To set up this review officially, Justin's music and I go waaaaay back. I'm talking prepubescent "Mickey Mouse Club on the Disney Channel" back. I know ALL the EPs, the N'Sync albums, guest features, solo albums (have concert DVDs and everything) etc. If a hypothetical protest existed to get Justin back in the studio after 2006's brilliant Future Sex/Love Sounds (FSLS), I'd have been there in spirit. I was feening like a "Pusher Love Girl"  (a strong opening track) along with the rest of his fan base for more dance tracks and ballads like only he can deliver that are so ridiculously catchy, even haters can't help but sing along.

Gambling on the ballsy album format of 10 songs around six-eight minutes each instead of releasing 15-18 songs around four minutes each, the difference is felt immediately. I appreciate the risk-taking but I found myself fast-forwarding towards the end of songs around the four minute mark anyway so the additional minutes seemed superfluous. When I first heard "Suit &Tie", the first big-band Vegas Rat Pack visually inspired single, I was not overwhelmed. The horns and "fatty" discussions proved distracting.

Tag-teaming with his tried and true partner Timbaland once more, my fav tracks reflected  FSLS V2.0 style like trademark Indian influenced "Don't Hold the Wall" and "Strawberry Bubblegum" (including the beat that sounded like something I had on my Casio keyboard in the 80's). Straying from the rest, dance track tailor-made for da clubs, "Let the Groove Get In" made this Latina "Señorita" want to shake it and "Rock my body".

Seven years is a long time. It wasn't a complete music hiatus but it was significant enough. People grow, fall in love, get married and want to express their love. Yes, I get it. Did I expect to get the exact same albums as before? Nope, and even so, it would be worshipped and critiqued just the same. The lyrics (not finding "the alien in me" nor "my mirror staring back at me") just didn't land as effectively this time around (though I know there are choice ones on other albums). One thing that's crystal clear (pun intended), Justin's star power is undeniable as this will be rabidly consumed on global levels very few can reach-from "blue ocean floors" to orbital moons only reachable by "Spaceship coupes".

Ten of these songs are original, the other three are covers, including the title track which is originally a song by Seatrain.  He features his fourteen-year-old daughter Emma on one of the other two covers, "You belong to me," which as far as I could tell was first performed by The Duprees, but also covered by a host of others, including Bob Dylan.  And the last cover is a John Lennon song, "Grow Old With Me."  This is one of my favorites on the album.  A real soft and sweet acoustic number, with a nice guitar solo.

One of the main things I like about this record is how if one wasn't already familiar with the covers, there would be no way to tell they weren't written by Cannon, as his own writing and musical style blend perfectly from where his inspiration streams from.  I also love the sonic quality.  It's gritty and warm.  It actually feels like Classic Rock, which in my opinion, is a good thing in today's market. 

Out of all the original tracks, "The Busker" is my favorite.  It's acoustic with just a hint of orchestral accompaniment, and has the most singer/songwriter vibe to it.  "Courage To Be Kind" is a bluesy ballad that opens up with some much-appreciated harmonica that's sprinkled here and there throughout the song.  "Hypnotized and Occupied" says it all in the title.  Right from the first verse we hear these lyrics, "now we're down, we're outside, we're the last thing on their minds, that's how they love you: hypnotized and occupied."  It's apparent he's speaking to our times today, but with the fervor of a 60's hippie. 

Imagine a sort of reggae, rock, jazz crossover which is not - thankfully - anything like reggaeton. It has been a path which others have trodden, most notably the Police and Sting, to the latter of which there is a more than passing resemblance in terms of the voice, most notably, "One Thing" and "I'm All Yours". But whereas Sting, after he had struck out on his own, abandoned the infectious, up-beat pop he had hitherto released with the Police, to disappear, with each ensuing release, slowly up his own backside, Pilot Touhill has kept that infectious, memorable, hummable singalong quality in all of the songs on this EP.

Now, while this is something which is without doubt, admirable, there is a fine line between playing something memorable and unique and playing something instantly forgettable because it is not sufficiently distinct from those who occupy a similar musical niche. Pilot Touhill has, remarkably, managed to do both on the same release.

Take, for example, "I'm All Yours." There is something here which makes this track stand out head and shoulders above the rest. The refrain has a stronger rock feel to it, without losing the syncopation of the drumming, which puts it somewhere in the region of bands from the early eighties post-punk, something Americans call for some reason the Second British Invasion. This was a period of great originality and innovation, and Pilot Touhill lives up to the promise. Compare this with "Doin' Time" which comes complete with handclapping to reinforce the beat. On this track Touhill tries to slur his words a little in John Martyn style. At times, it almost sounds like something Sade would have done. Sure, your foot will tap, but there is little to recommend this, especially once it has finished.

Perhaps this is indicative of a split personality, drawn in different directions perhaps by the competing pressures of staying close to one's artistics ideals or pandering to potential wider success, possibly a more commercial outlook. If so, then the title track, which concludes the EP, offers probably the best way forward, combining as it does the best of both options. Pilot Touhill has managed to make a personal musical statement. There is opportunity within. What is needed is a clearer focus as to who, beyond himself, that statement is aimed at.

Lenny Kravitz is a very talented musician, make no mistake. He, like only a handful of artists, records his albums almost completely unassisted. He is also a good songwriter. He just seems to be having a problem finding his own place musically. Certainly he has achieved a huge amount of commercial success. So, he doesn't need me to tell him what he is or is not doing right. However, in many ways he still seems to be too connected to his musical roots. His sound seems not to have really grown over the years, at least in part because he has not been able to let go and be himself. All that said, I don't think there is a bad Lenny Kravitz album on the market. Every one of them will certainly entertain, and this one is no exception. It just seems that he could be even greater than he is. The albums that he has put out, this one included, would be fine in most artist's catalogs. It just seems that maybe he has stopped reaching for more. That would be a shame because he is capable of so much more.

For an example of just a glimpse of where he could go, one needs look no further than the song "You Were In My Heart" on this very disc. That particular song starts off feeling like dramatic soundtrack music, then an electronic percussive groove takes the cut. It seems to merge R & B with techno, but the screaming rock guitar that punctuates the piece and cool dramatic arrangement elevate it to near high-art levels. That song alone is worth the price of admission here. Another highlight is the opener, “Battlefield of Love.” Starting with the sounds of war, this one comes in with a screaming hard groove. It showcases Kravitz at his best, an artist who combines modern hard-edged sounds with a retro texture. The guitar solo on this piece feels a bit like Robin Trower.

Looking to the other end of the spectrum, the two weakest cuts on the set are “Pay to Play” and the closer, “Let’s Get High.”  “Pay to Play” rocks out just about as hard as anything Kravitz has ever done. It's a little raw and underdeveloped, though. It's not bad. It just doesn't hold up that well in comparison to the rest of the music here. “Let’s Get High” is a pretty typical Kravitz rocker, but not especially significant. No, the title is not a drug reference, but actually an invitation to get high on "this feeling of love.” Of course, when the low points are as good as those two, it’s easy to see that this is still quite a successful release.

Yet, I have to say despite the criticisms, it is full of excellent material, with "Kill The King" being a better version than the studio version, as is "Man On The Silver Mountain" and above all "Catch the Rainbow" which really does come into its own live and is a vast improvement on the rather tepid version which is found on their debut studio album. Nevertheless, what this album lacks is content, and would have benefited by having a few more original songs on it. That could only have happened if the album had come out later in the band's career.

THEORY 2

In my view, had Rainbow released this album any later it would not have been a success. As it was, rumours that the band were planning on releasing a live double album so soon after the release of their successful second album, Rising, sparked a rush of anticipation among fans. Coming on the back of what was, without doubt, their finest album, made it perfect timing to release a live album as, had they released it any later, the poorer quality material of subsequent albums may have resulted in a loss of momentum.

For example, Long Live Rock and Roll, their third studio album, was a huge disappointment. It had a cheesy title, silly art work and lacked punch throughout. There is scarcely a single decent track on the album and had Rainbow released a live album after its release, not much of the material would have made it. Later even than that, and it would have been worse still. By releasing a live album straight after the epic Rising they managed to create a classic before they began their slide downhill. Any later, and the album would have been swallowed up in the wake of the punk movement which swept away all the established patterns for musical success and the rock dinosaurs, such as Rainbow, which personified it.

The trouble is, I cannot decide which of these two theories is actually the more plausible. When I like this album, I find it classic rock material. Proof, if ever one needed it, when listening to the live versions of tracks which appeared on the first album, that the best live albums sound better than their studio counterparts. But when I dislike it, I really do dislike it. I resent paying so much money for such a lack of material. I resent the fact this seems to have been rushed out to grab market share in time for Christmas sales. I resent the fact that Blackmore felt all he had to do was issue an album and it would justify all that he had done. Even now, thirty years later, my ambivalence has not decreased.

Witt's unhurried and methodical delivery harkens me back to troubadours like Jonathan Richman and the sing-song style he popularized as the strumming narrator in There's Something About Mary. He has a deep and at times booming voice that is reminiscent of Alex Kapranos from Franz Ferdinand. Oh, and he even looks a little like another millennial musician, Ty Segall. Pardon the pun, but while Witt's material is "rooted" in folksiness, he's not unlike Segall or the aforementioned Richman in that he has quite a bit of punk in him. Case in point is his very loose cover of "You Are My Sunshine". Actually, I dare you to resist the urge to slam-dance to some of the faster cuts on Sterling Loves U such as "You're the One V2". When I listen to Witt's songs, I can't help but imagine the band many would argue are the pioneers of folk colliding with punk, that being Violent Femmes. I wonder if Witt has thought of making the pilgrimage to this year's Coachella Festival, where Violent Femmes will reunite for the first time in over five years.

Then again, if Witt keeps making quirky cool music like this, it won't be long before HE'S the one drawing big crowds. The album title again is Sterling Loves U, and to prove his appreciation (and solicit interest), you can sample it for free at http://sterlingwitt.bandcamp.com/album/sterling-loves-u.

In truth, innovative though it was at the time, the idea of bringing church music into rock has been done since - most notably through Enigma in the early nineties. Yet at the time this was so innovative that it really caused a mighty stir. The Catholic church itself reacted none too kindly to this either, particularly as the Third Vatican Council was in the process of ditching the Latin Tridentine Mass in favour of mass said in the vernacular. Yet this was no gimmick. The band was totally serious with this project. What you get is psychedelia meets God in no uncertain terms. And a lot of it is sung in Latin too!

Truth is, it works. Strange as it may seem, the Electric Prunes manage to pull it off. Each song opens with plainsong chanting in Latin, often backed only with little more than an organ tuned to make it sound like it sits in a church, leading into a jumble of sounds straight from the drug-induced state which the Electric Prunes were in most of the time. Then back to some more chanting and onto the next part of the mass. Strange as that description sounds, it is nothing compared to what it actually is. This simply has to be listened to - several times - to get a full appreciation of what is going on here. Whether or not the band were attempting to use modern instruments to spiritual effect, or whether they were just taking the undeniable simple beauty of Latin plainsong and using it to create an effect is impossible to tell. But the more you listen to this the more you realise this is something special.

Sadly, the album is not all good. Of the eight tracks on the album two are bonus tracks and have nothing to do with the overall theme. As a result those two songs, "Hey Mr President" and "Flowing Smoothly" are completely out of place and can only be described as pointless filler. It is a pity that the band could not have either extended the six tracks they had or added two more to complete the theme. The best thing you can do is switch off after "Agnus Dei" and not bother with the two final, secular tracks.

Long deleted and rarely available even in second hand stores, I had to scan the evil satanic interweb to find this. I ended with a mixture of straight downloads from Limewire and bits of torrents from across the net in order to piece the album together. It took a while to assemble all the components, but in the end it was well worth the time and effort involved. It was only much later, when the US reissue became available in the UK, that I managed to find a copy of this in one of the little independent record shops on Berwick Street.

Internal struggles lie beneath the surface, "crashing and breaking things", threatening to disturb the peace on "Pins". Lead singer Deidre Kroener shines, a combo of Kimbra, Hayley Williams and Florence from Florence and the Machine, knowing instinctively where to crank up the intensity and dial it back down for emphasis. It's no wonder she won a Best Vocalist award back in 2010.

Showing Bowie, Zeppelin, Weezer and 90's grunge influences, Grown Up Avenger Stuff comes  to the rescue in the nick of time with "Sparkleton" to potentially save your boring, musical dreary day. "Do ya want it?" Yup and so should you.

Yet it is hard to figure out why this should be, particularly when listening to what is probably their least commercial release, The Death of Cool. The melodies are strong and memorable and the layers of guitars are at times luscious in their profusion and vitality. Unlike earlier releases, this was not aimed at the commercial market, but more at hardening the cult following the band had developed thus far. It may be that Kitchens of Distinction had decided not to continue to strive for commercial success and this may explain why they have been overlooked.

That is a shame, for there is some excellent music here. However, the album is rather inconsistent and if I have one general criticism it is that the voice of Patrick Fitzgerald does not seem to fit the style of music very well. Maybe it is a personal idiosyncrasy, but his vocal style sounds more appropriate for the Britpoppers Kitchens of Distinction never were instead of the dream poppers from which they derived some of their inspiration. The nearest approximation to another vocalist I can think of is The Psychedelic Furs' Butler, but Fitzgerald manages to hold a key better than Butler ever could. Yet whereas Butler often wrote nonsense lyrics, Fitzgerald wrote from the heart, and many of his songs reflect the tribulations of a young gay man in a changing London.

But the voice aside, you can't fault the quality of the music and the lyrics. There is a mixture of short, punchy songs, and longer songs which offer greater flexibility. Of the former, the angry attack on homophobic violence in "Breathing Fear" and the snappy "Smiling" stand out. However, the longer tracks are what really defines the quality of the album, and come as something of a relief after hearing the two opening and, it has to be said, rather disappointing numbers, "What Happens Now" and "4 Men".

"Gone World Gone" sees Fitzgerald's voice pushed to the back of the sound mix as layers of guitar dominate the mix. "Blue Pedal" is more mellow and philosophical, both in terms of tempo and content, but the real highlight is the magnificent "Mad as Snow". A quiet intro comprising a single guitar while the lyrics speak of the joys of a relationship looking back from a position of nostalgia, tinged with regret. As the lyrics end, the volume and quantity of the guitars begins to increase until you find yourself in a luxurious bliss-scape of swirling guitar interplay which takes up half the length of the track.

It is a matter of regret then that the music of Kitchens of Distinction never got them more recognition at the time. Perhaps in retrospect it is time to re-evaluate their position in the music firmament. If so, then one could do worse than starting with The Death of Cool.