Just as the obsession has been with female vocalists in the UK from the music industry and those willingly lapping this up, the same pattern seems to be happening in Scandinavia or, more to the point, Norway where to be female and possessing a beautiful and ethereal vocal backed by an assortment of electronic pulses that have a habit of sweeping and soaring has become an obsession. The latest in an increasingly lengthening line regarding such comparisons is Elsa & Emilie who, through no fault of their own, churn out an album’s worth of all too familiar sounding material that could be any number of female artists to have graced the scene during the past few years. There is undoubtable talent present and the majority of songs are fine, with the solid opener ‘Endless Optimism’ and haunting beauty of ‘Run’ being two particular highlights, but overall, where this album would have benefitted most is a change in the creative process in order to set it apart from what has gone before rather than adhering to an overused formula. Take for example the meandering pleasantness of ‘All Our Money’ and saccharine ‘Firemaker’ as two prime candidates performing adequately at surface level, but after deeper exploratory fail to offer much in the way of substance. ‘Young and Beautiful’ patches up some of the deficiencies with more character in the vocals and complimented by the lone piano giving a source of inspiration for the duo’s next creative venture. Despite all of its professionalism, ‘Endless Optimism’ contains too much familiarity due to the current saturation of the market with similar sounding artists. On this occasion, Elsa & Emilie would do best to follow their own advice, “This could be anything, let’s find a place to start” because they need to find their own identity, which is more than viable considering the glimpses of talent evident here, and with time definitely on their side.

A long time in the waiting, Stavanger-based Frk. Fryd is finally ready with their first long player ‘Hjertebank’. Eleven tracks of punk-rock inspired energy that accelerates from the start with the rifftastic ‘Svart Sol’ and immediately followed by the shorter and sharper shock of electricity that is ‘Skyene’, which has a fine line in knitting together its vocals in wonderfully harmonious fashion (listen to those near howls blowing down the tunnels!). The influence of grunge and its associated big sister that was riot grrrl during the early nineties are additional reference points but not something overly obsessive here, as the tunes remain focused and a lot tighter with definitely less aggression when it comes to the vocals. Occasionally, this lack of ‘bite’ becomes irksome as there are periods where Frk. Fryd should be snarling at their prey rather than sounding a tad cute [‘Tok Meg Med’]. Normal service is resumed, however, with the grit of ‘Tyvens Dans’ serving up its remedy with a coarser set of vocal chords, which is then shared with the melodically tight and rockin’ ‘Blod og Honning’. The rawness of ‘Blikket Ditt’ adds a more natural edge and is possibly the closest indication of this all-female group’s live sound. Topping that, however, is the layered instrumentation of ‘Virvelvind’ with its memorable high step in the vocals during the chorus. While there is a lack of variation on one or two occasions, the overall feel of ‘Hjertebank’ is positive considering it’s the first major step for Frk. Fryd to a long and illustrious career if they desire it.

Having grown up on a musical diet consisting of American underground indie stalwarts Palace Music and Smog before soaking up the sounds of Howe Gelb, Matt Ward and Jeff Tweedy at a slightly later date, Rob Eelen considered it time to scribble a few musical compositions of his own and set sail for the life of a singer-songwriter. Forsaking his own moniker for the more appealing Wilderwolves – no doubt a ploy to avoid any association with the aforementioned singer-songwriter category despite this being a predominantly one musician affair – this debut album reveals an array of honest emotions, often steeped in plaintive lyrics with an intensely raw sound. With assistance coming from producer Geert Van Bever, Wilderwolves greets the listener with the bare minimum of acoustic guitar and a vocal claiming, “There’s no way back, I got stuck on you” and immediately you get an idea of where this album is coming from. There are other instruments added to the overall recording, with Eelen introducing piano during the somewhat subdued yet trying its hardest to sound upbeat of ‘Disco Dance’, which remains a masterstroke in song writing such is its dalliance with pop music combined with an overall sober side. The distant sounding opening of ‘Great Days’ assumes a brave face when inside there is nothing but ruin, which extends to the tragic relationship of ‘Danger Close’ that possesses a country edge as depicted by the shooting stars of steel strings illuminating the night sky momentarily, with the song drifting slowly towards its conclusion. A more robust and melodic sound lifts ‘Song For Now People’, which seems to spur the following ‘To Deploy’ into action with its choppy rhythm greatly exemplified by the fuzzy bass, staccato electric guitar and thumping drum beats. With there being a strong feeling of clinging to the past, the memories echoed throughout ‘Wilderwolves’ is something to revel in when they are presented in such an absorbing and intelligent manner that sets out this debut album as one to seriously treasure.

First up for new artist on the block Surfalot is the bright and breezy debut single ‘My My Oh My’. Having built up his credentials via a stint in Liverpool working with producer Tarek Musa (Transgressive Records) before a return to more familiar surroundings of his home in Norway, Surfalot, real name Bendik Johnsrud, is ready with his brand of indie synth and guitar pop that should, if there’s any justice in this world, appeal to a broad number of music obsessives. The single itself arrives at a time when the final days of summer are fast receding, with the simple demands of the song’s narrative sensing such change when it could still be cause for celebration if only the other half of this partnership would agree to slip on their dancing shoes. ‘My My Oh My’ is built for such moments, however, with its infectious melody having a spring in its step with a slight scent of the early 80s looming just around the corner. If Surfalot can ride out this summer season with emotions still intact, then the next issued release from this Norwegian looks set to be an intriguing prospect.

A quick turnaround from the Manic Street Preachers after the critical success that was last year’s ‘Rewind The Film’. Back with a thirteen-track album that marks a significant change of direction for this Welsh trio by drawing on a number of electronic influences ranging from Kraftwerk to early Simple Minds, due to a longstanding affection for such musical reference points but also as a result of a previous road trip throughout Europe when touring that proved inspirational. That is not to say that ‘Futurology’ is not without the various ticks and nuances of a typical MSP album because there are signs of their post-punk sound via a number of guitar riffs and lead singer James Bradfield’s instantly recognisable vocal that still amazes with its ability to navigate its way around complex and jagged lyrics. Another notable difference is the role Nicky Wire’s bass performs as it pushes to the fore during a number of songs with a real authority (‘Walk Me To The Bridge’, ‘Misguided Missile’) à la Derek Forbes and provides a solid spine to the band’s more adventurous urges. While there is suggestion of a certain level of bleakness considering the trip back in time, there is light between the covers as suggested by the immediacy and breezy nature of the title track and furthered exemplified by the rousing chorus of ‘Walk Me To The Bridge’ with its golden splashes of electronica. Politics and a sense of detachment is portrayed to great effect during the machinelike ‘Let’s Go To War’, only to be usurped in the futuristic mechanical stakes by the hypnotic electronic pulses of ‘Europa Geht Durch Mich’. There is no doubting the Manics’ love affair with music as ‘Futurology’ continues a previous trend of guest vocalists with Scritti Politti’s Green Gartside’s wondrous touch on ‘Between The Clock And The Bed’ being one such highlight. Such affection, however, also gets the better of them and is best illustrated by the instrumental ‘Dreaming A City (Hugheskova)’ as it is no ‘Theme For Great Cities’. Thankfully, this remains the only hiccup in what transpires to be a monumental leap forward for the Manic Street Preachers, without completely ditching their past, as the barely audible intro of the krautrock-inspired ‘Mayakovsky’ raises much curiosity, if you know a thing or two about the Manic Street Preachers history, by ushering in a bit of The Beatles ‘White Album’. It appears the Manic Street Preachers is entering a rich vein of form and one that is opening up to the possibilities of experimentation. Hopefully, the band’s next endeavour will continue along a similar path as ‘Futurology’ because it is definitely among their finest works but, more importantly, it’s the first signs of a fresh start.

Naming your latest album ’48:13′ suggests that time is beginning to catch up with Kasabian. Not that this five piece from Leicester has anything to prove, of course, after a succession of critically well-received albums and legion of loyal supporters championing their cause, but the signs of a band struggling for fresh ideas is slowly beginning to reveal itself. This latest album, however, begins in fine fashion with the humming static of electronics and subdued fizz of guitars that is ‘(shiva)’, before flowering into the thunderous beats and tripped-out psychedelia of ‘Bumblebee’. The film score inspired entrance of ‘Stevie’ would not sound out of place in a Bond film as it eventually catches up with an exhilarating rhythm that gives a fine impression of a song moving in transit as there is a real sense of one car pursuing another, hence the Bond reference. ‘Mortis’ is a mournful and brief instrumental that directs the listener to the first lacklustre effort in the ideas department, both musically and lyrically, with ‘Doomsday’ and followed by the all too familiar ground of yet more pounding beats and boastful comments running throughout ‘Treat’. A change of tempo and style is welcomed with the intriguing ‘Glass’, that is more considered in its use of electronica and fleeting standard instrumentation but then, surprisingly, takes an even greater twist in its strategy by closing out with a spoken word passage that contains the telling line, “When the biggest criminals I ever met wore a suit and tie”. ‘Explodes’ continues the more restrained approach and owes a slight debt to Gary Numan, before returning to tried and trusted ground with the pounding ‘Eez-eh’ that skewers the usual suspects of Primal Scream, Happy Mondays and Stone Roses in one fell swoop. Not without its faults, ’48:13′ warrants enough attention for the sometimes weird and wonderful and one or two forays venturing into classic Kasabian territory. However, it’s the latter category that requires considerable tinkering if, next time around, Kasabian is to enter a whole new era.