Singles for the week starting 26 September!

S.C.U.M
Whitechapel
(Mute)
* * * * *

Despite sharing their name with a film about the bone-splintering brutality of the prison system and a Society for Cutting Up Men, it's nonetheless a relief to know that S>C>U>M can still kick out the can and enjoy a good party tune. Here to help that assessment is this weirdly spectacular one off: we don't usually go bananas for euphoric disco numbers, but when there's a subversive, Church of Satan-style undercurrent hanging around? Hey, we just can't help ourselves.
S.C.U.M are both appealing and vulnerable because of their borderline religious dedication to their art; the band explained in a recent Artrocker.TV interview that their debut album had been driven by anthropomorphic fallacy, the placing of emotions onto animals or plants - in this case a field opposite the studio which seemed to be "in tune" with the music. ‘Sheesh!’ you might say, but it was this psychedelic-magical aura that intrigued Artrocker enough to place them on the cover when they first formed.
However, the S.C.U.M of 2011 are less indoctrinated in anti-convention than the vampish noise-mongers of back then. ‘Whitechapel' is the closest the group have come to pop music - and the results are exceedingly catchy, not to mention totally boogie-worthy.
T Bone Jones

John Cale
Extra Playful EP
(Double Six)
* * * * *

The narrative of the ageing rocker is to maintain dignity at all times by 'doing a Johnny Cash' - ie, by croaking into a microphone with as much wisdom as your grapefruit can muster. John Cale however, doesn't see things this way. John Cale has an avant garde jockstrap attached to his inner cranium. John Cale eats private collections of Salvador Dali paintings for breakfast. In short, John Cale is going to do whatever the blazes he likes - and considering he was always the buffest member of the Velvet Underground, you're not going to stop him either.
Not that you’d want to when he's making EPs like this: Cale's first recorded output in six years finds the great Welsh experimenter on fine form, with an accessible yet subversive batch of artrock.
Opener 'Castrofuk' has the smell of fresh-faced, early morning revenge to it. Cale reels off impressions of imploding relationships, money-obsessed maniacs and misanthropic transparency over a carpet bomb of distorted guitars, squelchy moogs and snappy beats.
'Whaddya Mean By That' is immediately more tender; "Teach me how to love/teach me how to hate/I'm your student/mustn't be late" comes the lyric over a melody that recalls Mercury Rev's tragic optimism. Then things start to get weird: 'Hey Ray' zooms out to the political, with Cale dismissing all the alleged threats to society that decorated the 20th Century, while 'Pile A'Heure' makes for mutant hip hop that recalls Paris Suit Yourself. It all ends in the European cannon with 'Perfection', an electro-rocker which feels aligned with Devo and 'Station To Station' era Bowie. The giant strides on.
Ric Rawlins

Darren Hayman)
I know I Fucked Up/Who Hung The Monkey?
(Belka Records/Fortuna Pop)
* * * *

This double A-side sees ex Hefner singer Darren Hayman collaborate to create two very different songs. ‘I know I Fucked Up’ is a beautiful, nakedly honest break-up ballad with Elizabeth Morris (of ‘Allo Darlin’) mourning a shattered relationship over a plaintive minor key guitar line. It will likely touch a raw nerve if you’ve ever sorely regretted messing things up with someone great.
The Wave Pictures collaboration ‘Who Hung the Monkey’ is a different beast entirely, being a decidedly jolly motorway travelogue that mixes cosy Kink’s-style Englishness with a Mouldy Peaches campfire singalong chorus.
Together, the two songs are a delightfully contrasting treat.
Mark Murphy