As far as debut albums go, this eponymous release is a surprisingly accomplished effort from the Nottingham-born teenager Jake Bugg. Although he stares out from the album cover like a younger, long-lost cousin of the View or the Enemy, while those U.K. indie acts found their nourishment on a diet of the Jam, Oasis, and the Strokes, Bugg found time to explore pre-Beatles music from the likes of Buddy Holly and Richie Valens. These influences -- combined with a folk sensibility and moments of delicate acoustic fingerpicking that betray a love for Bob Dylan and Donovan -- make for an accessible, pop-focused record that doesn’t attempt to chase innovation. Much of the material here was co-written, produced, and mixed by Snow Patrol and Reindeer Section collaborator Iain Archer. When Bugg and Archer combine on “Taste It” and “Trouble Town” -- two of the album’s stronger, more raucous tracks -- it’s as if you’re hearing what the La’s would have sounded like if John Power had been their dominant force, as opposed to Lee Mavers. It’s the intro to “Taste It” in particular that apes “Feelin’” -- the Liverpudlians’ final single -- while “Trouble Town” comes across as a rewrite of their cautionary “Doledrum” with its skiffle-fueled tales of unemployment benefits and missed payments. The comparatively positive and sprightly opener “Lightning Bolt” didn’t do Bugg any harm when it was featured just prior to the BBC’s live coverage of Usain Bolt’s Olympic 100m victory and was heard by a U.K. audience of 20 million people. Built around a three-chord shuffle and a bridge that Noel Gallagher would be proud of, it’s another example of a Bugg/Archer gem. While it’s the analog-sounding upbeat tracks such as these that impress, it’s the mid-paced, digitally polished ballads and resultant formulaic pacing that underwhelm. It’s safe to say that those searching for experimental music should most definitely look elsewhere. “Broken” -- co-written with former Longpigs frontman Crispin Hunt -- takes Bugg into broad, “X-Factor does indie” territory, while “Country Song” tiptoes between James Blunt’s vocal quirks and John Denver’s suffocating pleasantry. Inoffensive and clean-cut as they are, both tracks signify a mid-album lull and sit awkwardly on a record that is littered with overt drug references and imagery from the street. To his credit, Bugg's too young by far to be a drug bore, and when he takes “a pill or maybe two” in “Seen It All” or is “high on a hash pipe of good intent” in “Simple as This,” it feels like social documentation rather than a misguided attempt at glamorizing their use. Elsewhere, Clifton -- the south Nottingham village that Bugg calls home -- gets what is possibly its first mention in song on the irresistible, Hollies-inspired “Two Fingers.” All in all, though Bugg’s debut may not share the wordy precociousness of Conor Oberst’s formative steps or the political astuteness of Willy Mason on Where the Humans Eat, it’s his sheer earnestness and rare gift for writing simple, hook-filled tunes that ultimately charm the listener.© James Wilkinson /TiVo

In the space of just a few years, the young Briton has become the darling of a public eagerly waiting for a revival of Britpop. Jake Bugg then endorses the beliefs of his fans, and has made the guitar his privileged partner on that mission. For On My One, the prodigy has, however, decided to take a detour outside of his regular comfort zone. With Gimme The Love, he delivers and edgy electro-rock sound where the acoustic guitar has no place, whereas with Ain’t No Rhyme, he wanders into rap with rock background (surprising given that he appealed to Mike D of the Beastie Boys, to assist in the recording and production of On My One). Having composed and produced the album almost entirely alone, Jake Bugg has shown a new maturity and proved that he has broad enough shoulders to carry the expectations placed on him. Recognizing the influence and will of his brilliant predecessors, Jake Bugg has big shoes to fill. © RB / Qobuz

Jake Bugg's eponymous 2012 debut was enough of a success to push him into neo-stardom across the Atlantic Ocean. He never had an actual hit in America -- the album did get to 75 on the Billboard 200, though -- but his reputation was strong, strong enough to gain the attention of Rick Rubin, who signed up to record the young British singer/songwriter's sophomore album at the producer's home studio. Literal guy that he is, Bugg named his second album Shangri La after Rubin's Malibu studio, and it's an appropriate title because it's a collection of 12 songs that were recorded at Shangri La. There is no greater theme than that, apart from perhaps how Rubin assists Bugg in going electric, accelerating the process that took Bob Dylan the better part of three years into less than 12 months. Rubin skillfully retains a veneer of authenticity throughout Shangri La, adhering to the Dylan in Greenwich Village vibe of the 2012 debut and never letting the electric expansion feel like exploitation, but all this care is applied to songs that are deliberately slight -- "Kitchen Table" and "Pine Trees" signifying country authenticity, while the Wire-inspired "Kingpin" signifies urban grit, the two tied together through picture books and cable TV -- and delivered in a voice that's the Bard channeled through Alex Turner. Here, Rubin is a help: he brings in Pete Thomas, one of rock's great unheralded drummers, to anchor this throwback to 1965 Dylan, a sonic achievement undercut by Bugg's adenoidal whine. At every turn, this high-pitch sneer acts as a reminder of Bugg's terminal adolescence, offering another opportunity to examine his sophomoric solipsism. Cut out Bugg's delivery, and Shangri La is a perfectly appealing singer/songwriter throwback -- an exercise in '60s folk-rock pastiche that is just pleasing enough on the surface. As this is music that is determined to be authentic, it's impossible to cut out the guy responsible for the tone, melody, and words, so attention is always drawn to Bugg, a songwriter who can cobble together melody but not meaning, a singer whose severely limited skills cripple whatever chance he has in communicating.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

“Virtuoso” and “artist” are the terms often used to describe footballer Ronaldinho, indicating his mastery of the game is known far beyond the sporting sphere. It was therefore only a matter of time before a documentary was made to highlight the Brazilian’s talent, with music to make his gameplay on the pitch look as elegant as ballet. The documentary was made by Andrew and Stuart Douglas, who called upon young British folk-rock singer Jake Bugg for the soundtrack. Ronaldinho’s speed and skill is reflected in high tempo tracks with a Latin flavour, such as Keepy Uppy and Perequito. But the soundtrack also includes more introspective songs, whether they have a folk-rock vibe (Sevilla) or a more synthetic sound (The Coronation, Real Madrid Theme). The guitars in the film’s opening track (Classical D Opening) and Copa do Mundo are incredible, as is the pure, bright piano in Joao’s Theme. As for the track dedicated to Ronaldinho himself (Ronnie’s Theme), it’s imbued with a surprisingly deep sense of melancholy, highlighting the now retired footballer’s darker side. To end on a brighter note, Samba Jazz will remind many listeners of the great Brazilian music of the 1960s (particularly the legendary album Sergio Mendes & Brasil’66). ©Nicolas Magenham/Qobuz

Ever since his first album released in October 2012 (at only 18 years old!), Jake Edwin Charles Kennedy a.k.a. Jake Bugg has been impeccably using his distinctive style: a mix of rock and 60s folk (in short, from Merseybeat to young Dylan), punk rock bubble-gum (notes of Buzzcocks), Britpop banter (his voice sometimes edging towards Liam Gallagher’s from Oasis) and contemporary eclecticism (do the Arctic Monkeys spring to mind?). The young prodigy from Nottingham provides amazing compositions one after another, ready to be hummed in the shower. With Hearts That Strain, Bugg confirms that he still knows how to surround himself with great talents. After Rick Rubin, the producer of his 2013 album Shangri La, he hired for this fourth album the very busy Dan Auerbach from the Black Keys, as well as the Memphis Boys, the famous band from the American Sound Studio, old outstanding musicians such as Gene Chrisman and Booby Woods who worked with Elvis Presley on some sessions for Suspicious Mind and took part in Dusty Springfield’s Dusty In Memphis. Indeed it’s in Nashville that the British musician recorded his album, a way to give it a different local flavour from his previous works. And it is clear that here Jake Bugg shows a completely innovative aspect of his art. Much more soul than previously. Less aggressive too, he displays the new depth of his writing skills. On Waiting, he even sings with Noah Cyrus (Miley’s little sister) for a delightful retro duo. All in all Hearts That Strain impresses with its maturity - the maturity of a musician who is only 23 years old and is just getting started… © MD/Qobuz

As far as debut albums go, this eponymous release is a surprisingly accomplished effort from the Nottingham-born teenager Jake Bugg. Although he stares out from the album cover like a younger, long-lost cousin of the View or the Enemy, while those U.K. indie acts found their nourishment on a diet of the Jam, Oasis, and the Strokes, Bugg found time to explore pre-Beatles music from the likes of Buddy Holly and Richie Valens. These influences -- combined with a folk sensibility and moments of delicate acoustic fingerpicking that betray a love for Bob Dylan and Donovan -- make for an accessible, pop-focused record that doesn’t attempt to chase innovation. Much of the material here was co-written, produced, and mixed by Snow Patrol and Reindeer Section collaborator Iain Archer. When Bugg and Archer combine on “Taste It” and “Trouble Town” -- two of the album’s stronger, more raucous tracks -- it’s as if you’re hearing what the La’s would have sounded like if John Power had been their dominant force, as opposed to Lee Mavers. It’s the intro to “Taste It” in particular that apes “Feelin’” -- the Liverpudlians’ final single -- while “Trouble Town” comes across as a rewrite of their cautionary “Doledrum” with its skiffle-fueled tales of unemployment benefits and missed payments. The comparatively positive and sprightly opener “Lightning Bolt” didn’t do Bugg any harm when it was featured just prior to the BBC’s live coverage of Usain Bolt’s Olympic 100m victory and was heard by a U.K. audience of 20 million people. Built around a three-chord shuffle and a bridge that Noel Gallagher would be proud of, it’s another example of a Bugg/Archer gem. While it’s the analog-sounding upbeat tracks such as these that impress, it’s the mid-paced, digitally polished ballads and resultant formulaic pacing that underwhelm. It’s safe to say that those searching for experimental music should most definitely look elsewhere. “Broken” -- co-written with former Longpigs frontman Crispin Hunt -- takes Bugg into broad, “X-Factor does indie” territory, while “Country Song” tiptoes between James Blunt’s vocal quirks and John Denver’s suffocating pleasantry. Inoffensive and clean-cut as they are, both tracks signify a mid-album lull and sit awkwardly on a record that is littered with overt drug references and imagery from the street. To his credit, Bugg's too young by far to be a drug bore, and when he takes “a pill or maybe two” in “Seen It All” or is “high on a hash pipe of good intent” in “Simple as This,” it feels like social documentation rather than a misguided attempt at glamorizing their use. Elsewhere, Clifton -- the south Nottingham village that Bugg calls home -- gets what is possibly its first mention in song on the irresistible, Hollies-inspired “Two Fingers.” All in all, though Bugg’s debut may not share the wordy precociousness of Conor Oberst’s formative steps or the political astuteness of Willy Mason on Where the Humans Eat, it’s his sheer earnestness and rare gift for writing simple, hook-filled tunes that ultimately charm the listener.© James Wilkinson /TiVo

As far as debut albums go, this eponymous release is a surprisingly accomplished effort from the Nottingham-born teenager Jake Bugg. Although he stares out from the album cover like a younger, long-lost cousin of the View or the Enemy, while those U.K. indie acts found their nourishment on a diet of the Jam, Oasis, and the Strokes, Bugg found time to explore pre-Beatles music from the likes of Buddy Holly and Richie Valens. These influences -- combined with a folk sensibility and moments of delicate acoustic fingerpicking that betray a love for Bob Dylan and Donovan -- make for an accessible, pop-focused record that doesn’t attempt to chase innovation. Much of the material here was co-written, produced, and mixed by Snow Patrol and Reindeer Section collaborator Iain Archer. When Bugg and Archer combine on “Taste It” and “Trouble Town” -- two of the album’s stronger, more raucous tracks -- it’s as if you’re hearing what the La’s would have sounded like if John Power had been their dominant force, as opposed to Lee Mavers. It’s the intro to “Taste It” in particular that apes “Feelin’” -- the Liverpudlians’ final single -- while “Trouble Town” comes across as a rewrite of their cautionary “Doledrum” with its skiffle-fueled tales of unemployment benefits and missed payments. The comparatively positive and sprightly opener “Lightning Bolt” didn’t do Bugg any harm when it was featured just prior to the BBC’s live coverage of Usain Bolt’s Olympic 100m victory and was heard by a U.K. audience of 20 million people. Built around a three-chord shuffle and a bridge that Noel Gallagher would be proud of, it’s another example of a Bugg/Archer gem. While it’s the analog-sounding upbeat tracks such as these that impress, it’s the mid-paced, digitally polished ballads and resultant formulaic pacing that underwhelm. It’s safe to say that those searching for experimental music should most definitely look elsewhere. “Broken” -- co-written with former Longpigs frontman Crispin Hunt -- takes Bugg into broad, “X-Factor does indie” territory, while “Country Song” tiptoes between James Blunt’s vocal quirks and John Denver’s suffocating pleasantry. Inoffensive and clean-cut as they are, both tracks signify a mid-album lull and sit awkwardly on a record that is littered with overt drug references and imagery from the street. To his credit, Bugg's too young by far to be a drug bore, and when he takes “a pill or maybe two” in “Seen It All” or is “high on a hash pipe of good intent” in “Simple as This,” it feels like social documentation rather than a misguided attempt at glamorizing their use. Elsewhere, Clifton -- the south Nottingham village that Bugg calls home -- gets what is possibly its first mention in song on the irresistible, Hollies-inspired “Two Fingers.” All in all, though Bugg’s debut may not share the wordy precociousness of Conor Oberst’s formative steps or the political astuteness of Willy Mason on Where the Humans Eat, it’s his sheer earnestness and rare gift for writing simple, hook-filled tunes that ultimately charm the listener.© James Wilkinson /TiVo

Jake Bugg's eponymous 2012 debut was enough of a success to push him into neo-stardom across the Atlantic Ocean. He never had an actual hit in America -- the album did get to 75 on the Billboard 200, though -- but his reputation was strong, strong enough to gain the attention of Rick Rubin, who signed up to record the young British singer/songwriter's sophomore album at the producer's home studio. Literal guy that he is, Bugg named his second album Shangri La after Rubin's Malibu studio, and it's an appropriate title because it's a collection of 12 songs that were recorded at Shangri La. There is no greater theme than that, apart from perhaps how Rubin assists Bugg in going electric, accelerating the process that took Bob Dylan the better part of three years into less than 12 months. Rubin skillfully retains a veneer of authenticity throughout Shangri La, adhering to the Dylan in Greenwich Village vibe of the 2012 debut and never letting the electric expansion feel like exploitation, but all this care is applied to songs that are deliberately slight -- "Kitchen Table" and "Pine Trees" signifying country authenticity, while the Wire-inspired "Kingpin" signifies urban grit, the two tied together through picture books and cable TV -- and delivered in a voice that's the Bard channeled through Alex Turner. Here, Rubin is a help: he brings in Pete Thomas, one of rock's great unheralded drummers, to anchor this throwback to 1965 Dylan, a sonic achievement undercut by Bugg's adenoidal whine. At every turn, this high-pitch sneer acts as a reminder of Bugg's terminal adolescence, offering another opportunity to examine his sophomoric solipsism. Cut out Bugg's delivery, and Shangri La is a perfectly appealing singer/songwriter throwback -- an exercise in '60s folk-rock pastiche that is just pleasing enough on the surface. As this is music that is determined to be authentic, it's impossible to cut out the guy responsible for the tone, melody, and words, so attention is always drawn to Bugg, a songwriter who can cobble together melody but not meaning, a singer whose severely limited skills cripple whatever chance he has in communicating.© Stephen Thomas Erlewine /TiVo

Jake Bugg's 2014 EP, Messed Up Kids, showcases the rising British singer/songwriter's ebullient, melodic, folk-rock-inflected sound. The mini-album follows up Bugg's lauded 2012 self-titled debut and 2013 sophomore effort, Shangri La. As with those albums, Messed Up Kids does nothing if not reinforce the idea that Bugg (20 years old at the time of this release) is an immensely gifted artist with a knack for delivering immediately catchy, universally relatable songs that still retain a very personal point of view and sense of authenticity. As he sings on the anthemic title track, "Lights are smashed/The streets are closed in the town/Places no one really goes to hang around/Give up on us long ago with no hope/All you hear's the cold wind blow and get stoned." An earthy, literate songwriter with a voice that combines Bob Dylan's bluesy, nasal twang with former Oasis frontman Liam Gallagher's throaty swagger, Bugg is a true amalgam of cross-Atlantic influences. One minute he's strumming his way through the bright, uplifting guitar sparkle of "A Change in the Air," and the next he's delving deep into the Southern acoustic blues of "Strange Creatures." In that sense, Messed Up Kids brings to mind a combination of the work of such similarly inclined British musical mavericks as Billy Bragg and Paul Weller. Similarly, the title track, with its ringing guitar lead line and driving chorus, sounds a lot like a lost cut from the cult '90s British outfit the La's. Ultimately, Bugg, much like his predecessors, embodies a love of earnest, confessional folk, American blues, and '60s rock -- all of which is evident and in grand abundance even on this short, superb EP.© Matt Collar /TiVo