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Press Reviews

 

There have been millions of reviews and press features over the years, here are a few 

of our favourite and recent reviews... 

 

 

 

Shenaniganism (Tape Hiss & Other Imperfections)

 

Fuzz pedals and song craft to the fore as Lo-Fi beatniks set their name up in lights.

Handmade sleeves and affirmations that no studios were used in the creation of Beatnik 

Filmstars new record set you up for an album that really does transport the band into your 

front room. Conspiratorially British with song titles such as ‘The Affable Gaffer’s Drinking 

Club Song’, ‘Blackpool’, Devil Minkeys’ and ‘The Oldest Profession In England’, Beatnik 

Filmstars come across as a heady cocktail of Guided By Voices, pre ‘Shame About Ray’ 

Lemonheads and the Style Council. Trading on the fuzzed up cornucopia of staccato chords 

and rolling riffs that have been the fair of every band this side of Billy Childish to affix ‘Thee’ 

to their name, Beatnik Filmstars manage to take a well ploughed furrow and garner new 

growth from the much tilled earth.

The recording of the album without computers in various rooms across Bristol helps preserve 

the energy and innocence of the songs, injecting a quality similar to early Joy Division into 

songs such as ‘Madmen & English Dogs’ where distorted vocals slide over piercing keys and 

quasi Kraftwerk breaks. There are moments of quintessential English guitar pop that will have 

some thinking of The Boo Radleys or Wonderstuff with added quirk and minimalist production 

values.
Of course the minimalist, Lo-Fi production is the key to this album, but it showcases perfectly 

that money and fancy studios can’t buy you great songs. Bona fide filmstars never sound so good.
( Jonathan Sebire - Subba-Cultcha)

 

Flitting between gloriously shambolic art rock that sounds like it was recorded 

on a cheap tape recorder and played back in an aircraft carrier hanger and 

romantically inclined pure pop, veterans of the UK lo-fi scene Beatnik Filmstars 

return here with their latest record, SHENANIGANISM (TAPE HISS & OTHER 

IMPERFECTIONS); another LP flying the flag for ragged lo-fi glory.

Opener A MAN WITH A PURPOSE is a languid acoustic affair, a song that begins 

things with a whimper rather than a bang, suggesting the Beatnik Filmstars as 

fey indie singer/songwriter types rather than the more Sonic Youth meets 

Pavement esque noise rock the makes up much of the rest of the record.  LIFE 

MODEL for instance is a song that's all dirty guitar riffs and distorted vocals before 

taking a turn for electronica meets lo fi in its dying moments, sounding for all intents 

and purposes like the Aphex Twin being remixed by Polvo. MADMEN & ENGLISH

DOGS is another gloriously off kilter and awkward sounding slice of noisy art rock 

whilst the peculiar pop machinations of AIR STEWARDESS JACKIE HARRISON 

melds casio keyboard riffs to ragged guitars and skewed vocal whimsy.

DEVIL MINKEYS, finds Beatnik Filmstars delivering a pop song trapped in a sea

of sonic sludge, snappy guitar riffs and cheeky keyboard stabs creating a sound not 

unlike Bis courting The Fall.  

Continuing in the skewed pop tradition, BLACKPOOL is another shining beacon 

of bright neon light here - a glorious collision between Urusei Yatsura and Pavement.  

The new wave pop of LITTLE LOST SOUL is a song buried in enough sonic 

experimentation and fuzzy noise to put a smile on even the most jaded hardcore 

noizenik, the pummelling drum rolls and catchy melodies leaving you breathless.

SHENANIGANISM (TAPE HISS AND OTHER IMPERFECTIONS) is a record that reminds 

you of the power of messy, chaotic, noisy rock - the kind of music that inspires you to 

go out and form a band, that like minded folk and a bunch of cheap equipment is all 

you need to change things for the better.  

Beatnik Filmstars bring a sense of joy and wonder to the indie rock scene, creating 

songs that excite and inspire - a reminder that music can be experimental and noisy, 

frightening and inventive, yet inviting, warm and fun.   (  Mike Bond / UK Music)

 

The first track of the nineteen packed into this energetic melting pot of lo-fi 

experimentation could easily lull you into thinking this will be pleasant, easy-

on-the-ear, acoustic fare. But then the scruffy layers of 'Are You Doggin' I Up' 

introduce themselves like an Alka Seltzer fizzing in your cochlea (a note for the 

prudish: doggin' apparently means 'looking' in Bristol-speak and has nothing 

to do with sex in alleyways) and you know you are in for quite a ride.
 For an album that was recorded in just two weeks and without the aid of 

computers, this is not the stripped-down record you might expect. As well as 

the largely omnipresent crunchy guitar riffs, there is radio interference, looped 

samples of football commentary, a bit of saxophone here and there and, most 

bizarrely, I swear there is a six-year old boy playing PacMan during both 'Life 

Model' and 'Air Stewardess Jackie Harrison'.
Influences seem to stretch far and wide. There are echoes of the Kinks on 

' Blackpool ', perhaps the most obvious choice for a radio single, as a playful 

xylophone teams up with plenty of alcohol references to create a great summer 

tune. The bright guitar riffs of The Hives drive the superbly titled 'Inside the 

Mind of Sam (The Breakfast Serial Killer)' while the vocals veer from George 

Harrison to Kasabian and back again.
But the Beatnik sound is very much their own, creating layers and textures that 

sound unlike anything you will hear on a commercial radio station. The lyrics and 

tunes are strong and varied, even on the gentler numbers like 'Awake?' which is a 

very decent brass-infused ballad squeezed in before another Kinks' inspired number 

'Psychedically Inclined Man About Town'. Closing stomper 'The Affable Gaffer's 

Drinking Club Song' affirms just how good Beatnik Filmstars' eighth album is. If this 

is what can be achieved with two microphones in a house in Bristol , who needs 

recording studios?  (TASTY)

 

 

 

Boss Disque

 

Arriving with a tirelessly eclectic mixed bag of powerful hooks, spacey keyboard sounds, moody 

strings and every single home recording trick and tactic known to man, Beatnik Filmstars aim 

to confound and surprise the listener at every step. And now that I can't rightly compare them 

to The Fall or Guided By Voices anymore, they've made my job considerably more difficult. 

Watch for them on tour if you know what's good for you. (SKYWAY)

 

There is life beyond Trip-Hop in Bristol and Beatnik Filmstars are the proof. Producing some of

the most delectably flawed gems in all of pop music, the Filmstars read lke some insidious 

concoction of the Boo Radleys, Beach Boys and Guided By Voices. Boss Disque represents a 

beautifully twisted amalgam of all things hummable. 'I Can Tame Lions' catches you with it's 

harmonica hook, 'Consolation To A Bar Room Socialist' could fit nicely on the Boo's 'Everything's 

Alright Forever' (a high compliment) and 'Less Than One In Ten' thrashes in away that will make 

college radio programmers cream. And the best part: here's 19 other equally beguiling offerings. 

(CHART, Toronto)

 

 

Fans of lo-fi 4 rack pop music like Guided By Voices will most likely find these lads appealing. 

Extremely appealing. The Filmstars pack more into their CD than most bands would dare to. 

With 22 cuts of multi-tracking pop, the band isn't afraid to delve into the many facets of the genre. 

Short ones, long ones, any kind of song ones; Beatnik Filmstars deliver more pop wallop for your 

dollar than any commercial rock out there. the British invasion continues. Get It!  

(Greg Barbera   SPECTATOR)

 

 

Phase 3

 

I used to have this really old clock radio and this Panasonic tape recorder that I used to tape 

cool stuff off the radio. The set-up was really basic - lo-fi, if you will. I had the tape recorder 

placed right next to the clock radio so the built in mic would catch as little outside noise as 

possible. Then whenever I heard anything that sounded promising, I'd push record. 

The mix tapes that resulted from that period contained fuzzy AOR radio hits, Dr. Demento 

bits, ends of commercials, snippets of DJ's talking, accidental bumps and pauses but I still 

listened to them over and over until they became familiar and comforting to me. Those tapes 

have long since disappeared or worn out. Thank goodness Beatnik Filmstars came into my life. 

Beatnik Filmstars are pure sonic euphoria. They record their randomized pop ditties every 

which way but right then tape it together and make them all better. Drums sound like guitars, 

guitars like drums, organs like vocals, vocals like organs. It's dizzying. And when you're done 

you'll swear the ever present static is just someone humming. (GRID MAGAZINE)

 

 

Bristol, England's Beatnik Filmstars are like the disorganized and ill dressed but clever kids in 

school: from all appearances, they don't seem to have their act together, but when it's time to 

turn in a project, they assemble a surprisingly impressive piece of work that reveals their ultimate 

brilliance. Akin to those kids term papers, complete with bad penmanship and entirely lacking a 

bibliography, 'Phase 3' the group's fourth album, is a scrappily recorded collection of songs which 

are actually quite cogent and tuneful. Talking an everything but the kitchen sink approach to 

recording works in the Filmstars favor, as they capture their raw musical ideas without any studio 

hands ironing out the wrinkles, exposing the melodies and clanking percussion in all their glory. 

Sometimes this means that the band emerges with melodies as sweet as a stick of rock candy, as 

on the bouncy 'Milk', the Teenage Fanclub-ish 'New Jam Shoes' or the ballad 'Rumpus Throw' and 

sometimes it turns out clanking, energized, highly percussive romps that could be the product of 

The Fall's kid brother (see 'Favourite Stuff' or 'Wing Off A Plane' among others). But what's most 

enjoyable about Beatnik Filmstars is that they're unpredictable in all ways but one; they

consistently turn in excellent work and reveal  a startling amount of creativity with each successive 

project. (Lydia Anderson / CMJ WEEKLY)

 

 

 

If imitation is really the sincerest form of flattery, Mark E Smith should get a restraining order 

slapped on fellow Englanders Beatnik Filmstars pronto. If you can get through this album 

without jumping up and shouting 'Hit The North-ah' you have some serious repression. 

Phase 3 is a fantastic album nonetheless, rotating wildly around the indie-art-noise axis with a

scuzzy charm and vicious attitude that've been missing in British music since, well, the last 

release from The Fall, or maybe Gallon Drunk. This is definitely a low tech recording. 

Songs ending halfway through and jumping boots first into new tunes, radio static, and 

deliberately messed with instrumentation trailing streamers of white noise across  the already 

distorted vocals, and an eight dollar Bontempi piping up on practically every track. And yet 

Phase 3 doesn't fall into the rut of white-boy-in-the-bedroom lo-fi. With three guitarists, 

Beatnik Filmstars have a big sound and Jerry Francis' killer bass rumbles like a flying fortress. 

Beneath the chaotic surface, Phase 3 is packed with  clever pop songs and sharp lyrics, stand 

out tracks being he surprisingly gorgeous New Order-ish  love-rant 'Disco-Tech' and the acidic 

clang-a-thon 'White Bloke With Skin' where the two vocalists Andrew Jarrett and John Austin 

list vaious ways to "Put yourself under pressure This is Beatnik Filmstars fifth album. If they're 

news to you, it's time to catch on (and plan a fun excursion into their back catalogue) 

(Michael Hukin - PUNCTURE)

 

 

Beezer

 

Like driving a bulldozer through a Hatton Garden window. Like dynamiting a hologram of Sonic

Youth. Like the Northern Lights on the Isle Of Wight. Like a dolphin in Peckham Rye Pond. 

This is an incongruous, sparkling, fractured gem of a record. These are out-takes and singles 

and things. That means there are proper LP's somewhere. That means I've got some phone calls 

to make. (Mark Luffman / MELODY MAKER)

 

Apathetic English Swine

 

Great song title! This is shockingly sexy in a 'makes you want to go out with a sharpened coat 

hanger and stab policemen to death' sort of way. It's about the sort of person who'd rather stay 

in and watch Rumblefish on video again with a pizza, a spliff and a can of Diet Tizer than go out 

and set fire to the House Of Commons. This is up there with Senser's 'Age of Panic' and 

S*M*A*S*H's 'Kill Somebody' A clattering stick-a-pencil-in-your-ear piece of petulant tantrum 

pop that, rather than reflecting the zeitgeist, hunts it down to it lair, and chucks in molotov 

cocktails, waits until it runs out screaming with it's fur on fire and then destroys it with a well 

aimed barrage of white phosphorous, high explosives and napalm before shagging the still 

smoking corpse. (Steven Wells / NME)

 

Difference Engine may well be the worst band in the world. Beatnik Filmstars are the second 

worst band in the world, even worse than Gutless. They do things with their guitars that hurt 

your ears, scream loudly in your face and then go all coy. This is the work of males who will 

never grow up to be men but just big boys. Put them in a pit and cover them with fast drying 

cement. Quick! Before they contemplate releasing another record. (Sarra Manning / Melody Maker)

 

 

 

Astronaut House

Consider this: Beatnik Filmstars were originally featured in 'On' in the spring of 1991. Almost 

half a decade on, as the commercial world spins on in blissful ignorance, the Bristolian  

fivesome could be forgiven for sinking into a morass of resigned cynicism, sobbing over their 

guitars while the likes of Gene gently sweep into the arse-end of the nation's charts. 

Not so. Astronaut House is in fact the kind of crazed barrage of underground noise all too 

infrequently made by insipid British sorts, with angst in their proverbial pants and a frenzy of 

frustration feeding the Beatniks collective psyche. The splendidly named Arthur Jarrett howls 

and grumbles through a table-thumping collection of gripes and utterly gripping sonic blasts. 

Take the seismic slacker mentality of 'Apathetic English Swine' (cue Arthur bellowing "I don't 

wanna go anywhere!") as your starting point, and then stand sensibly aside as the Beatniks 

sprint you through a clanging cavalcade of machine gun drumming, battered strings and 

squabbling Fall-style stampedes. Clichés are twisted . Tempers are frayed. Fingers are pointed. 

And then 'What Goes Around Comes Around' decides to take the foot off the belligerent pedal, 

armed as it is with a smart jazzy intro. Ultimately, stuffed with an eye-widening assaults or not, 

'Astronaut House' is a frantic, FUNNY, punk-tastic by-product of some seriously scrambled, 

hyper-active imaginations. As Arthur points out so succinctly amidst the caustic whiteout bursts 

of 'Protein +' "I've only been in love once / It left me full of hate..." One of the chewiest records of 

the year. Obviously. (Simon Williams / NME)

 

Revolt Into Style

Three guitars! In these days of recession, it can hardly be responsible to have three guitarists. 

There are plenty of unemployed flautists out there. There are hundreds of recorder players on 

the breadline, as Lush so wonderfully proved at the 4AD celebration last week. This record is 

loud. It has no tune. But that didn't stop me from giving U2 Single of the week. 

(Caitlin Moran / MELODY MAKER)

 

 

Laid Back & English

 

Now who's for an English Pavement then? Alright go on, hide behind the sofa, but the Bristol 

based Beatniks will probably get you in the end. This second album contains a value for money 

16 tracks, at least half of them packed with the kind of intelligent, guitar driven whimsy that 

most indie bands would give the right side of their brain to think up. Sadly the other eight are 

total bollocks. (C.C / SELECT)

 

It has a sleeve you could stare at for hours. Highly enjoyable. Tangibly experimental and often 

brilliantly funny.  'Kick It In The Head' makes a self pitying melancholic wallow into a superb 

angst anthem, and the addictive 'Tearing Apart My World' shows that they are more than 

capable of the pop masterpiece. It's not often that the word 'innovators' doesn't go hand in hand 

with the words 'tedious', 'annoying' and 'bollocks', so extra marks for that. (CATHARSIS)

 

 

This album, it has to be said, does not make for an initially enticing prospect. A childish collage 

sleeve, a clumsy, over-mannered title and an opening track that is little more than a clueless 

racket. But from there on in the second LP from these Bristolian indie-poppers improves 

dramatically. The 'Niks take what is essentially an over used formula - clanging guitars and 

dreamy vocals - but give it a sufficiently idiosyncratic twist that it sounds as fresh as an entire 

field full of daises. And when they couple their guitar swirl with that elusive beast known as the 

Great Pop Song, the angst flows like Tizer, and they're little short of magnificent. So 'Clean' is a 

striking juxtaposition of driving, urgent guitars and whispering, melancholic vocals and 'Tearing 

Apart My World' a fantastic chugalong anthem, while 'Orange' proves their ability to slow down 

and go mournful with some aplomb. Ironically, what lets them down is their desire to transcend 

the obvious Ride and Wedding Present influences. The chiming pop songs are interspersed with 

way too many attempts at art school weirdness that simply don't ring true. If they hadn't 

overreached themselves (16 tracks is undoubtedly value-mungous, but not if you can live without 

half of them), Laid Back & English' would be right up there with the high numbers. As it is they'll 

have to settle for a potential-drenched 6. (Mark Sutherland / NME)

 

 

 

Maharishi

 

While you're still holding on to your hats as prog rock makes it's comeback, here is prog pop: 

a piercing melancholic guitar sound alongside the quiet and loud shuffling rhythms and 

deadpan vocals sung with sublime wit: " Who needs a life when you've got a TV", mutters vocalist 

Andy during 'Ian Day'. The Beatnik Filmstars plan to be ragged intellectuals who do their 

washing up in the bath and wear baggy sweaters in dark colours with holes in. 'Maharishi' 

is their debut LP. Printed boldly on the label are the words 'Play Loud' which no doubt refers 

to the simple, laced guitar harmonies of 'Breakable', the hot and cold of 'More' with it's biting 

countdown of a guitar solo almost exactly like Galaxie 500's very last single and even the drifting 

tempo of 'Down', which seems to be slipping away from itself. Are you getting the hang of this? 

At times things seem to go a little slow and you want to hurry them along. But this is a band 

who wear their L plates proudly on their sleeves. (Ngaire / Melody Maker)