The Blood Arm: amputate these muthas

In my recent Mike Nisbet post, I mention being sent a few albums to review by The Skinny’s music editor back in June. This write-up made it to the paper, but in a slightly bastardised form.  I state in the original piece that an endorsement from Franz Ferdinand “decreases in value with each passing year”. As far as I’m concerned, this is an objective fact; the group aren’t as popular or influential as they were in 2005. That you can buy their three albums for a penny each on Amazon speaks volumes. They’re still an alright band and I’d rather they were viable chart contenders than the tedious Tory Folk practitioners that are so popular right now. But they’re not and must be aware of this themselves. So why change the line to “an endorsement which may or may not be decreasing in value with each passing year,” making me seem like even more of a spineless shilly-shallier than I already am? I can only presume that The Skinny, which seeks to promote Scottish ephemera, feels that it owes the band some kind of debt. God knows The Blood Arm do. Original review here.

The Blood Arm 'Turn and Face Me'
**
 As one would expect of Franz Ferdinand's favourite band, an endorsement which decreases in value with each passing year, LA’s The Blood Arm are pop-loving art rockers. Staunch Anglophiles, they draw inspiration from the mainstream British New Wave and are happy to wear their influences on their sleeves.

'She's a Guillotine' opens the album with a tribal beat clearly intended as a nod to Adam Ant, before exploding into the kind of aggressively melodic, keyboard coated power-pop that was once Elvis Costello's stock in trade. Somehow the song finds room for an impassioned call and response coda in the vein of Dexys before its two and a half minutes are up. At its best, as on this track, 'The Creditors' and the more thoughtful 'Forever is Strange', the group's music is invigorating and cleverly constructed. Generally though, it's too cluttered and self-conscious to make much of an impression on the listener.

Lewis Porteous