I hate the term ‘comeback’.” That’s Casey Spooner, one half of Fischerspooner, the iconic electro duo who’ve just released their third album (Entertainment) after a four-year gap in recording. “It’s not a comeback because we didn’t actually leave,” implores Casey. He’s right too. Fischerspooner haven’t been hiding after their last album, Odyssey, failed to ignite in the same way that electroclash touchstone #1 did, they’ve just been busy working on other facets of the Fischerspooner universe. “Releasing albums isn’t all we do, we’re performance artists so we could be working on stage shows, theatre pieces, ballets or installations.”
 
Yet for a duo that can work (successfully) in so many different creative arenas, there is something appealing about the musical side of Fischerspooner that lured Casey and creative partner Warren Fischer back for Entertainment. “I often wonder why we do it,” Casey remarks with a pause for contemplation. “This job can be terrible. I haven’t had a day off since the beginning of the year,” he moans. “But I think, in the end, Fischerspooner as a musical entity offers us a chance to incorporate a lot of different elements and open things up for collaborations. For us, it’s never just an album. There’s a stage show we’ve got to think about and with that comes choreography, costuming, design as well as art and image direction. We’re always thinking of new stuff to do and who we can do it with to make it work right.”
 
Whatever they’ve done in the last four years has worked, as Entertainment shows off a charismatic and invigorated Fischerspooner. One minute they’re swanning through some pulsating electro (The Best Revenge), the next it’s brooding dance music for androids (Money Can’t Dance) or fractured and futuristic pop (the stunning Danse en France). Entertainment is an album filled with unbridled imagination, but more importantly it’s an album that sees the realisation of all these ideas. “We worked really hard on this record, and we’re proud of it,” Casey says grinning. “I guess I don’t mind too much if people see it as a comeback. It just means that we’ve been through it all. First we were loved by everyone, then hated and now people are excited to hear from us again. I quite like that feeling.”
 
It’s good to have them back. – Dave Ruby Howe

It's hard to imagine any band that's able to utilise the studio as effectively as Grizzly Bear. The Brooklyn-based quartet seamlessly weaves instruments into textures, rendering music that is almost irrelevant to discuss in traditional terms of rhythm and arrangement. But Grizzly Bear's art is not something to be thought about, it's something to be felt; it sweeps through you, feathering imagination and unlocking emotion. While this is prodigiously modern music, the cleverness of its coordination and restraint of delivery makes it seem of a porous and playful past, leaving the listener lying on a hardwood floor in the 60s, reading Kerouac and smoking Lucky Strikes. A spectacular triumph, Veckatimest is as absolutely enchanting as it is thoroughly impressive. - Matt Shea

Death. Abuse. Illness. Heavy-handed subject matter that, in hands less-skilled than those of US indie outfit The Antlers, could have ended up sounding like a concept album scripted by the guy who writes the sad bits in Grey's Anatomy.

Sentimental, introspective indie music has produced some of the best and worst music of this decade and The Antlers - like forerunners Arcade Fire, whose aptly named Funeral also took in ruminations on death and isolation - manage to create an album in Hospice that pours out more like poetic diary entries than a ham-fisted attempt at a linear, tear-jerking narrative. Musically, The Antlers build on the tension between intimate and sprawling dynamics. Beginning with a textured drone that moves into the album's most openly vigil-inviting track, Kettering, The Antlers maintain an affinity with ambience and abstract noises that makes proceedings both more sinister and disorienting. The vocals are suitably thin and at their loudest there's still an underlying fragility to it all.

This could have easily resulted in a big mess, but it's in treading so close to that line and ultimately pulling it off that Hospice becomes that much more exciting and vital. - Matt Hickey

Having already released their first single on iconic Parisian label Kitsune, German duo Hey Today! are gracing another prestigious boutique imprint, Bang Gang 12 Inches, as spearheaded by notorious Australian party-people the Bang Gang. The result of this hookup is Wonderman, a mutant disco mess of spine-shaking beats and glitched-out vocoder tweaks. From the skyscraper-sized drums to its wild and wide-eyed breakdown, Wonderman is super-powered music from two super-powered producers. And now that Justice have jumped the shark with that U2 remix, we could use some new heroes. - Dave Ruby Howe

Poney Poney's latest EP is a glorious melting pot of French cool. The Parisian band - who've been touted as the scruffy, rock-inclined younger brothers to Phoenix - have cooked up a jubilant and unmistakably French slice of power-pop with When Do You Wanna Stop Working?

Produced by electro-maestro and countrymen Para One, and out on one of France's finest labels, Institubes , the single hits all the sweet spots, from the driving beat to the squiggly, erratic guitars. And the solemn-soul remix from Rob (keyboardist for Phoenix's live show among other projects) is just the cherry on top. Or the chocolate on the éclair, if we're really trying. - Dave Ruby Howe

Like a less rhythmically-complex Yeasayer meets the electro-psychedlia of MGMT, Apes and Androids are the latest in a lineage of downtown New York bands striving to meld digital and analogue elements and are blurring the high/low art binary of studio experimentation with the dancefloor. Since adding synth lines and MPC beats to guitar compositions is no longer edgy enough in itself to sustain interest, Apes and Androids have moved to make songs with hypnotic structures and arrangement fluctuations to compensate. 

Although the two piece may seem like the obvious culmination of their fellow Brooklynites, they have managd to produce an album (Blood Moon) with a unique stamp on the genre that's as exciting to dance to and as it is to grab some headphones and curl up with. Exciting stuff that belies the modest conditions in which it was produced. - Matt Hickey

It's only just hit April, but 2009 has already brought us a slew of big releases from heavy-hitters such as Animal Collective, Röyksopp and the Decemberists. But in our quest to be continually looking ahead for what's new and what's next, here's our forecast of acts who know will leave their mark on 2009.

BAG RAIDERS

Long seen as the secret weapon in the Australia vs. France electro-war, Sydney's party commanders, Bag Raiders, are hooked-up with the Bang Gang people and A-Trak and destined to shed the 'secret' part of that label this year. We promise.



EMIL & FRIENDS

While the hype swirling hoax that this was Emile Hirsch's musical side project drew initial listeners to New York's Emil & Friends, that audience has stayed for this mysterious band's addictive music.They mix MGMT's electro-fetish with the quirk of the Unicorns and the sample-heavy indie-folk of Animal Collective and Soft Tigers. So it's basically the best thing ever.



FENECH-SOLER

Although this three-piece are born and raised in the UK, they've absolutely nailed a French-Touch homage with their snappy indie-with-electronics style. And we're not the only ones who see big things ahead for Fenech-Soler, as Alan Braxe - the French disco icon -has picked up their next single for release on his boutique label, Vulture.



IRAN

Iran's six-years-in-the-making Dissolver, is getting a load of hype because band member Kyp Malone's other group - TV On The Radio - has gotten kind of big in the interim. Fellow TVOTR member and super producer Dave Sitek lends his golden touch and turns Iran's lo-fi freakout rock into a polished indie-meets-classic rock record that would be just as comfortable blasting in a small club as in a stadium.



JONATHAN BOULET

It's crazy to think that Jonathan Boulet's rich, floating folk-pop melodies took form in the Australian troubadour's miniscule garage studio. But I suppose that is Boulet's gift, after all the twenty-year old can turn subtle, humble campfire tunes into soaring epics. Next he'll be doing straw into gold and water into wine.



LOST VALENTINOS

With Ewan Pearson helming their recent singles, Lost Valentinos have been serving up great combinations of angular guitars, dark synths and heavy beats, taking indie rock out for a night on the dancefloor. But it's Lost Valentinos' oppressive and sinister aesthetic and their experimental tendencies that make them shine this bright. Big things are sure to be found on their debut album, Cities Of Gold.



SHAZAM

With Macbooks and Korgs in their hands, bedroom producers are getting younger and better all the time. But the star at the top of the list is Shazam, a 19 year old disco savant out of Australia's West. His glittering party tunes are pool-side bound and deliriously cool, simply demanding you have some fun.



SNOB SCRILLA

After a fantastic debut EP in 2008 that featured some of the most exciting hip hop tracks of the year, Snob Scrilla is prepping the release of his Day One LP. Street single 'Houston' boasts the same shout-along, intense choruses and broad, bold production strokes that made the EP enthralling and can mean nothing but good things for the full-length.



THE ELEPHANTS

Denmark’s The Elephants sound like the long lost children of Brian Wilson, such is the sweet and sandy inspiration that flows through this quintet’s languid pop music. Currently wrapping their second album, you can expect to be head-over-heels by the time the northern Summer rolls around.



THE HUNDRED IN THE HANDS

With only one single under their belts (the instantaneous joy of Dressed In Dresden), Brooklyn duo The Hundred In The Hands could go anywhere from here. Who knows? Dressed In Dresden could be an enormous fluke and the pair could decide they only want to make reggae or black metal or a frightening hybrid of the two. But going on that single's love of Gang of Four guitar-slashes and driving, distorted bass lines we think they're a pretty safe bet.



THE SOUND OF ARROWS

Sweden's finest indie imprint, Labrador, uncovered pop-boffins, The Sound of Arrows last year. With two singles of skewed candy-coated indie-pop under their belts we're expecting things to get even better this year.



THE TEMPER TRAP

The Temper Trap make music that will break your heart and shake your soul. A steady momentum built on the Australians' shimmering single, Sweet Disposition is now gathering pace (including a spot in the Zooey Deschanel indie-bait movie 500 Hundred Days Of Summer) and getting set to explode with their guaranteed-classic debut.



WALE

As if releasing one of the most widely-spread, highly-acclaimed and generally entertaining mix tapes of last year wasn't enough, Wale has assembled a dream team of producers for his debut disc (see: Cool & Dre, Green Lantern, will.i.am, Dave Sitek). If the US MC maintains his ear for good beats and knack for great lyrical turns then the hype should translate into a very solid debut.



WILEY

London grime master, Wiley, cuts his skills to record like he has a belt of dynamite strapped about his torso. Having just unleashed the blazing aural onslaught that is See Clear Now, Wiley is now gearing up to global release of another hip-breaking long player, Race Against Time. By Matt Hickey, Matt Shea, Dave Ruby Howe and Oliver Queen

The reports of the demise of Nick Zinner’s guitar have been greatly exaggerated. While the band’s new found admiration of Giorgio Moroder and the synths-and-sequencers party vibe of lead single Zero led many to think that the Yeah Yeah Yeahs had ditched their signature guitar-drenched sound, it’s not the case. Zinner still wields his guitar like a pro on It’s Blitz!, yet it’s used in such measured and considered strokes throughout the album, complementing the richer sense of space and detail than we’ve yet seen from the band. It’s a more artful, rather than arty, version of Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

That's not to say that the band still don't rock, because they really do like on the afore-mentioned single Zero, or Dull Life which gallops at full speed aboard Zinner’s tumbling riffs. But the NYC trio truly shine when they push themselves and their sound headlong into unexplored territories. Take the gorgeous Hysteric, with a skeletal synthesis of organic and programmed drumming, and sparingly used guitar atmospherics, it’s the band at their most tender, before they decide to throw everything at their disposal — horns, trumpets, whistles — into the song, only making it sound bigger and more poignant than before.

Such slow-burning tracks have quickly become the band’s strongest suit, and accordingly It’s Blitz! (a deceptive title it turns out) is dominated with layers of trembling synthesizers and Zinner’s rich guitar-mist. It's a fairly staggering leap from the bratty rush of Fever To Tell and the polished-rock-sheen of Show Your Bones, but the Yeah Yeah Yeahs sound so comfortable and assured of themselves while they jump from sound to sound that you shouldn't hesitate about jumping off with them. - By Dave Ruby Howe

Jack Brown is used to having labels stuck to his band. In twelve short months, White Lies — which Brown drums for — have been called many things, from the next big thing in indie rock, to slavish Joy Division impersonators and all ‘round miserable boys. And although White Lies can deal with the incessant hype-storm that’s been whipped up in the wake of their debut LP To Lose My Life, it’s those last two that Brown doesn’t care for. “That’s something which we’ve heard of a lot in the last year, that our music is so bleak we must be the most depressed people in Britain, but it couldn’t be further from the truth,” Brown says. “I know that we’ve got a sound which is quite darker than a lot of other bands going around right now, but that itself is a reflection of us as a band and as people. We’ve grown up and these songs represent that maturity,” Brown says of the band’s debut disc. “Listen to the title track of the album, it’s about being so in love with someone that you stay with them until the very end of your lives, I mean, how romantic is that? I feel like there’s so much color and energy to what we do, that to compare us to a band like Joy Division is just absurd, because that was a band concerned with making music that was as bleak as possible. That isn’t us.”

Those who’ve laid such claims against White Lies are seemingly missing the point of To Lose My Life. Yes, it’s a dark sound, and yes, it’s focused on narratives of lost love, betrayal, social and familial dysfunction, and of course death. But it’s really about passion. White Lies’ lyricist Charles Cave utilizes these emotive themes to compel both band and listener, and as a result, To Lose My Life is an equally exhilarating and ambitious record. It’s also one that makes the band befitting of the other label mentioned earlier, the one about being the next big thing in indie rock.

“When people say something like that about you, you’ve got to step back from it all, otherwise it’ll effect you,” Brown admits. “We never wanted to play any games with the band’s hype. We avoided it. We spent over two months rehearsing before we played any shows, we did extended studio sessions for the album and we never released any information about ourselves or our music online. And it worked for us,” he explains. “If the press had started saying those kind of things about us before we finished the album, we never would’ve got anything done. We’re terrible at actually finishing things. That’s why we’ve only got like two B-Sides. We’re rarely satisfied with everything we do and that would’ve made it so much worse.  Thankfully we weren’t under the immense pressure of the hype machine during recording. And when it finally caught up with us, our album was finished and ready to come out, so it didn’t get to our heads. We got really lucky,” he says before beaming widely. And so they should be. — Dave Ruby Howe

Solo albums suck. Well, most of the time they suck, because most of the time they're lousy and ill-considered cash-ins that end up shedding little light on this new side of the artist and just end up damaging our opinions of the original band. History (and record store discount bins) are littered with failed solo-grabs and side projects. How many jokes end with a punch-line about David Bowie's Tin Machine experiment? Was anyone even awake for Nicole Scherzinger's lone-Pussy Cat Doll phase? And really, who wants to listen to an hour's worth of material from the drummer from Weezer? But people do get it right every once in a while. Like Victoria Bergsman's split from the Concretes, or Nick Littlemore's work with Teenager and Empire of the Sun outside of Pnau. This is not to forget someone like Marvin Gaye's creative peak after leaving the Moonglows or even the obvious work of Michael Jackson once he broke free of his brothers. And while Morrisey never quite matched the lightning in a bottle after the Smiths' end, his has been one of the most consistent and enduring solo careers in memory. So here's two fine examples of how to make pretty great solo record.

It’s best to get this out of the way early, otherwise it’ll just distract us later. Yes, Telepathe are very cool. They’ve got a wealth of New York City style, hookups with labels like Merok and Isomorph Records and their upcoming Dance Mother LP features friendly assists from !!! and TV On The Radio wunderkind Dave Sitek. But don’t let the hype of all that get in the way of Telepathe’s music, because that’s where the real magic lies. Coming together like an art-school student’s wet dream, the NYC three-piece cook up an exhilarating brand of tribal dance music, complete with boom and doom drum circles, séance-channelling vocals, a mess of fluttering synthesizers mixed with a nice touch of stuttered hip-hop production aesthetics. It’s all sorts of weird, but equally wonderful, of course. — Dave Ruby Howe

Trying to describe Tacoma’s Mono In VCF makes you feel like a tongue-tied fool attempting to convey a transcendental experience. This is music quite unlike anything you’ve heard before, perhaps best imagined as a young Suede camping on a rooftop, watching storms clouds with Phil Spector. It’s on Masha, lifted from Mono In VCF’s self-titled LP, that we witness the band’s finest hour. It’s a song born of the cold sea, with guitars that shudder like crumbling icebergs and synths that brush a transpacific wind across the nape of your neck. Bang in the middle of the mix sits Kim Miller’s voice, an exercise in beguilement that could seduce a fleet of sailors into the abyss. Stupefying, soul-tickling stuff. — Matt Shea

I worry for anyone who ever doubted Miami Horror. No really, because when Miami first appeared on the scene almost two years ago, sporting an unrestrained love of everything ‘80s and a healthy night-club tan, the people who dismissed him then had no idea of his potential for greatness. Shame on them. Since his humble beginnings, Miami Horror’s broke out of the basement beat factory to hook up with esteemed company like Fred Falke, Pnau, Gameboy/Gamegirl and Midnight Juggernauts and also polished off the extremely strong debut EP, Bravado. It’s on the EP that Miami Horror really shines, whether it’s with the Prince-esque strut of Don’t Be On With Her, the crunch of Summerfest ’86 or the shimmer and pulse of Bellevue. It’s filled with more style, vigour and thoughtfulness than your normal producer’s debut EP, but trust me, Miami Horror is far from the norm. - By Oliver Queen. Bravado is OUT NOW

The marching beat surges forward, where it’s met by a chugging bass line, rattling guitars and a menacing vocal. It’s the opening bars of a new single called Bismarck, which among other things is the signal that Lost Valentinos are back from the wilderness and want to be heard again. And it’s hard to fault them for coming back so fiery, after all, the last two years have seen Lost Valentinos in what can only be described as band hell. Riding the buzz from two successful EPs, the band spiralled as their label fell out from under them, they got sued by Bobby Womack, changed their name (from 'The' to 'Lost') and lost a drummer to Midnight Juggernauts. Emerging at last with Bismarck, a taste of their upcoming Ewan Pearson-produced record, it’s clear that Lost Valentinos have something to prove. They have a statement. They’re back and they haven’t missed a beat. — Dave Ruby Howe

Bismarck is OUT NOW

Much like designers, musicians are continually swinging through history, cherry-picking the best bits from long-forgotten eras and reinterpreting them with a modern slant. Recently, we’ve trudged through nostalgic New Order clones and the post-post-punk boom with bands like Interpol and Editors, but now it would seem that the much maligned genre of disco is coming back. So break out the bellbottoms because disco is about to be cool again.



FAN DEATH
Fan Death are the princesses of new-disco strut. Their stunning debut single, Veronica’s Veil, sounds like it was recorded in the early hours of the morning after the Canadian duo stumbled out of an all-nighter at Studio 54, their breath gone from dancing and their heads ablaze with dreams of disco stardom. From the ever-so-perfect string sweeps, the throbbing bassline, the shimmering production courtesy of Erol Alkan (Mystery Jets, Late Of The Pier), and the hollow-eyed vocal, it is truly thrilling stuff that manages to breathe life back into disco.



SISTERS OF TRANSISTORS
Not content with leading the genre’s renaissance, UK revivalists Sisters Of Transistors seem to have carved their sub-genre in the resurgence of disco, with what we’re calling mystery-disco. Not only does the group have a fondness for capes and shooting their videos in 3D, but there’s also a hint of unseen orchestration behind this twisted organ quartet. Pulling the strings is Graham Massey of 808 State fame, and the only person on this list who’s old enough to remember the heights of disco. Massey and the ‘Sisters create some brilliantly dark yet oddly danceable disco, with undeniable grooves working under the looping, hypnotic organ swirls. It’s mesmerizing and dramatic, and exactly what disco should be.



HEARTBREAK
Fan Death traverses a more traditional, platform-boots and mirror-balls era of disco, but UK-by-way-of-Argentina two-piece, Heartbreak, reaches back to somewhere between Giorgio Morodor’s arrival on the scene and the eventual death of disco when the synths-‘n-eyeliner crowd of the 1980s broke out. Heartbreak is more Human League and early Depeche Mode than Chic. They’re all about waves of bubbling keyboards and the bombastic production gloss of an ABC record. But beneath this there is a clear debt to disco, from their would-be Moroder arpeggio fetish, to the group’s penchant for Bee Gees-like falsettos. It’s scarily good music. — Dave Ruby Howe

The Death Set make music akin to being mauled by an enraged pitbull. It's a messy, violent and bloody mix of rabid gutter-dwelling punk and frenetic electronic noise that's consistently in your face. So when the Baltimore via Sydney group decided to link arms with infamous Australian party-starters the Bang Gang Deejays for a remix release on their self-established Bang Gang 12 Inches imprint, it was safe to assume that the final result of the hookup would be as twisted and terrific as the source material.

With an enviable selection of technically and stylistically diverse remixers on board, each artist’s revision on the vinyl-only collection somehow manages to remain faithful to the Death Set's vicious energy and style, so much so that the partnerships between band and remixer seem believable and ultimately natural. From the squeal and bounce party-funk of Bonde Do Role's take on Distressed, to the robo-disco of Treasure Fingers' mix, and the glitch and grind of the G.L.O.V.E.S. remix, each wildly different remix still screams Death Set. The whole package is an impressively warped look through the eyes of the Death Set and into their raucous sound-meets-wall/face-meets-bitumen world. - Dave Ruby Howe

You kind of have to feel a little bit bad for Foals. When everyone else was out getting girls, each and every member of the band was most likely holed up indoors, listening to Gang Of Four's Entertainment! and doing their philosophy homework. Their tracks are such focused lessons in tight, mathematical indie rock that’s there’s no doubt in my mind that they perennially struck out with the ladies. But we mustn’t feel too bad for Foals, after all it lead them to harness all that angst, awkwardness and romantic dysfunction and stuff it inside the Antidotes LP, which is still dripping out tantalizing singles, the latest of which happens to be the standout Olympic Airways.

While the remixes from minimal royalty Supermayer and disco revivalist Ewan Pearson are a big draw, we can’t forget the original Olympic Airways which has got the same scrupulously constructed rattle and hum you'd expect from UK group, from the fret-choking guitar work to the nod-'n-jerk chorus. And that soaring build midway through is like a fringe-swinging cherry on top. It's the band doing what they do best with an air of total effortlessness. And it's not getting old anytime soon. - Dave Ruby Howe

Foals MySpace

Watch Olympic Airways directed by Dave Ma

It’s difficult to find a new world culture that's as musically rich as that of New Zealand. Picking up your brother’s guitar and starting a band with your best friend and his sister is a rite of passage for most Kiwis. The Cool Hunter finds three grown-up versions of these backyard operations who are now taking the music of New Zealand to all corners of the globe, and that's just scratching the surface.



Liam Finn is very much a product of his genealogy, but that only partly explains the appeal of his beguiling music. Finn plays through a memory of family holidays and kids toying in the backyard while his delicate arrangements cast you into a spell conducted only by your own reminiscences.



Equal parts fastidious and inspired, there is barely a hip-hop album coming out of New Zealand that doesn’t have P-Money's production and DJ nous behind it. The epitome of the quiet performer, P-Money keeps schtum and lets the stomp of his gleaming productions blow your headphones.



In a world plagued by the manic, Fat Freddys Drop stand back, holding up a ‘hi-tek soul’ elixir.  This is music to be shared by close friends over a quiet cookout that runs from the long breezy summer afternoon into a warm, star-lit evening. By Matt Shea

Empire of The Sun. Little is known - no bio, no press kits, no explanations. The vital components are Nick Littlemore (Pnau) and Luke Steele (Sleepy Jackson) and the music is a precise dovetail of the two. The silky strings, tight-strums and cheeky hi-hats give 'Walking On A Dream' a distinctly French-house flavour. In stark contrast, the accompanying clip in all its weird and colourful glory was shot entirely in Shanghai. In the words of the song, this is the sound of two men at the peak of their powers 'pushing up the hill, searching for the thrill of it'.

Download the Sam La More remix here - Nick Christie

Alan McGee, the man who gave the world Oasis and The Libertines, has found the latest diamond in the rough. Scottish band Glasvegas are a four-piece that manages to combine all that was good from the Ronettes-era with all that is bad from modern-day Glasgow to brilliant effect.

Despite their obvious influences that range from Phil Spector to Elvis, what they come up with is so remarkably unique that they sound like The Jesus & Mary Chain getting drunk and having a go at covering the Grease soundtrack.

They draw you in with euphoric and unbreakable walls of sound but there is something so unmistakably bleak - something so unmistakably Scottish - about their sound that, in 2008, they manage to say a hell of a lot more about the state of things than sweaty, prepubescent boys with guitars ever could.

Lead singer James Allan has done for a thick Glasweigan accent what Alex Turner did for Sheffield and what Mike Skinner did for Mockney.  And singing along in cod-Glaswegian is all part of the Glasvegas experience, as it is live where they excel. - Rob Facey