YOU LOOK ROUGH

2011

2011-11-11T13:38:00.001Z

PHOTO: LUCY TESCO

It's that time of year again, so without further ado, behold my 2011 top 10. (With an extra 2 notched on the end for kicks.)

1/ Frank Ocean - Nostalgia, Ultra
I think I've made my obsession with this record clear, more than once. 'Swim Good' being both my most played and most loved track of the year, I don't feel I need to say much more.

2/ The Weeknd - House of Balloons
Fucking and drugs and vocals oh so sweet. 'Wicked Games' is more than definitely the new 'Cry Me a River' (JT).

3/ Pure X - Pleasure (Acephale)
Heroin blast indeed. Fuzzed out and genteel, this is total blanket music, drown in it, smother.

4/ Alva Noto - Univrs (Raster-Noton)
Clearest production in this goddamn list. Hard and crisp, crystal stabs.

5/ Hype Williams - Find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting reel (De Stijl)
This record is basically taking ketamine and drinking red wine in a warmly lit yellow walled room.

6/ Zomby - Dedication (4AD)
Gunshots, melancholy and impeccable style from this mystery electronic maestro.

7/ Nicolas Jaar - Space is Only Noise (Circus Company)
Refreshing and new, drawing from undeniable jazz influences doused in high octane electronics from the past twenty years. Guess he had his ears pricked from birth then.

8/ Tom Waits - Bad as Me (Anti-)
No I'm not biased but this is the coolest man in the whole world.

9/ Drake - Take Care (Universal)
He's clocked on to where pop music is headed and this album paces itself perfectly.

10/ Cosmin TRG - Simulat (50 Weapons)
This was pretty much all I listened to for a time.

11/ Wild Beasts - Smother (Domino)
Flawless, constantly flawless.

12/ Freddie Cruger & Anthony Mills are Wildcookie - Cookie Dough (Tru Thoughts)
Jazzy! Excellent and entertaining lyrical content, perfect listening for a Sunday afternoon while you're prepping your roast. Shimmeh shimmeh.

HEROIN BLAST.

2011-11-03T08:54:00.000Z

PHOTO: NEMO KAZUMI

The light spun me like I was high. Too much concentrated, too little balance. The air grew thick and heavy, doused in feedback and ache.

Twisted Mirror by PURE X

PURE DELIGHT.

2011-09-22T16:43:00.001+01:00

DUST AND RATTLESNAKES.

2011-08-31T15:02:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: BENOIT GROGAN-AVIGNON

There was a time, a phase rather, where I listened to pretty much JUST garage band stuff. DIY groups were my thing - the less I could make out the vocals, the better. The more I felt I needed to strain to find the song, the greater deserving the band was of my appreciation. This phase was short lived.

But like all great loves, something remains. It's done something to broaden your sensibilities and you'll find yourself falling back on it, revisiting it from time to time. You remember why you liked it so much, despite the fit not being 100% right.

Boneyards are making some pretty sweet garage right now. Formed by ex-Easy Hips pioneer, James Burgess, the three piece sound like some dudes looking to have a good time. On a beach somewhere. In the sun. Soaked in fuzzed out guitars, Burgess' vocals, though drowned out, sound summertime sweet. It's early days for these guys, but Italian Beach Babes have just put out a cassette of stuff and their live show is getting to be pretty honed. Catch 'em while they're hot, even though the weather isn't anymore.

Human Nature by BONEYARDS

DO ME BABY.

2011-07-26T17:18:00.001+01:00

PHOTO: BENOIT GROGAN-AVIGNON

If you're someone who generally likes to be in the loop, then I expect the term “boudoir'n'b” will mean something to you. For those of you who don't really care what's going on and instead favour the more passive form of being “on it”, let me explain: “boudoir'n'b” is fucking music. But I guess you can't really plug it like that.

Brothers Andrew and Daniel Aged have not simply been pulled out of a hat (pulled out of the winning gene-pool); the two siblings have in fact been coming up on the inside for some time now, acting as session musicians for such big names as Elton John, Beck and Pharrel. Their debut ep for 4AD, 3, is an oeuvre wholly their own: written, produced, mixed and engineered by themselves, we know we are not dealing with just a boyband.

Because they do look like a boyband, it's just that their sound doesn't quite fit the mould. On listening to 3, you would have to be deaf not to draw immediate, nay, ode-worthy comparisons with the king of fucking music, Prince. First track, 'Swear', holds that same holy sensuality: the delivery of the vocals, the lyrics themselves – it's all a little familiar. The grand hook, “Do you... swear?”, breathless and desperate, holds a candle to tracks of the 'I Would Die 4 U' ilk. To say it sounds like a tribute does not render it contingent though; it is a fantastic slice of pop, synths and all. Stronger than second track, 'Heart Crimes', which feels a little like filler... like a weak glue holding 'Swear' to the final song, 'Millionairess'. It is this closing number which really takes the biscuit – again, echoing Prince-like themes, the title word panting, sweat oozes from the body. Hip pop-y, but ultimately, boudoir'n'b.

3 is a great introduction to Inc. It is clear where they are coming from, and seems even clearer where they are going. Let's just hope this direction doesn't lead them too straight down the Paisley road.

Inc. "Swear" by moderntonic.com

"I TOLD YOU I WAS TROUBLE{D}"

2011-07-23T23:20:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: LUCY TENENBAUM

It's so haunting when the news of a death does not surprise. In many ways it is this realisation that something so beyond us can be so concrete and certain, but then I suppose the individual has always got some element of control.

Amy Winehouse was a modern day icon. There's no point in trying to beat around the bush, claim that this status grew from her talent alone; it was her tormented, vulnerable persona that really cinched the deal.

The first time I came across her was when she appeared as a guest on Never Mind the Buzzcocks. It must have been 2003, around the time her debut album, Frank, was released. I was charmed. I was about 13. She was so cool.

Cool is a funny one, 'cause the fact of the matter remains that, yes, she really was actually very cool. Even by the end. It wasn't her penchant for all things detrimental, but rather her attitude toward the media, her wit and intelligence, and, of course, her undeniable ability to write some of the most honest and gut wrenching love songs of the 21st century. With Frank she displayed the empowered woman, she belted out "woteva"; belted it with smokey class and a double on the rocks. But then it was Back To Black.

Only her second album, and already she had succeeded in making one of the indisputable bests of the decade. No more shrugging it off, this time the pain was everything - the whole record was created out of it, built on a foundation of agony, both physical and emotional. You heard the bruising, the tears and the blackouts. While Frank rose a glass to the slamming door, Back To Black threw the glass to the floor and broke the fingers in the door.

There aren't many modern day sirens; we can't boast a sea of them, but we sure as hell can look to one. The one sprawled on the rock, slipping ever so slightly, half her face grazed and bloody, seaweed caught in her 'pit. She is grotesque and beautiful all at once, and you just can't look away: a perfect mess. But when you eventually do, it is the perfection that persists, for you need not see to love a voice.

O RAGE, O DESESPOIR...

2011-07-14T15:24:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: CATH SOUCY

Have always been a bit of a sucker for the melancholy.

I used to get called a drama queen quite a lot. Being reminded I was not living in a soap opera was a constant. Perma-reality checks. "She's very dramatic" never sounds so good; "passionate" or "imaginative" rings more positive, more gentle.

This softspot for the melancholic leaves me prone to falling for certain types of songs. The "happysad" tracks; those that, while not being characterised nor defined by their tragic dimension, strike a painful chord somewhere.

Zomby's latest, on 4AD, is an entire album of these "happysad" songs. Dedication plays like one of the great tragedies of Racine or Corneille. Beautifully crafted in melancholy. The echoes of voices, the almost despairing womp womp... Saddens this drama queen, moves her to silence.

ALL FILLER NO THRILLER.

2011-07-14T12:54:00.005+01:00

PHOTO: BRI SALMENA

This is a short review I had to do for a feature on the best albums of the year so far. I might just do mini bits like this for records I really dig throughout the year and then go back to them when I'm doing my compiling at the end of the year. Yeah.

The Weeknd – House of Balloons

The internet's our best friend in 2011; first the Odd Future bunch, now these Toronto-based babes. It's all so young, fresh... but maybe not so clean; this is a record about letting yourself get swallowed up by the night, about fucking and getting high. Whether it's the low rumbling bass on the album's opener, 'High For This', or the Justin Timberlake-esque echo on 'Wicked Games', the honeyed vocals of Abel Tesfaye make it near impossible for you to keep your clothes on. While House of Balloons generally gets flagged with the R'n'B tag, what the Weeknd succeed in doing stretches it far further. Every one of the tracks on this album holds its own. Every one of these tracks is guaranteed to get you hot.

EYEGASMSSSSSS.

2011-06-16T18:08:00.001+01:00

boy/girl from Jean Feline on Vimeo.

Check this clip made by the super talented Jean Féline. Watch this space - he's gonna be the next big director. No, I am not biased.

CROCODILE TEARS.

2011-06-15T13:39:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: LAURENCE TURNER

“Look into my eyes, can't you see they're open wide – would I lie to you, baby, would I lie to you?”

Well this is great. Who doesn't love a bit of Charles & Eddie on a Thursday night? A packed out venue, full of people who actually remember this coming out. Woon croons it, the song perfectly adapted to his sound; a sound which has, as of recently, been classed as 'post-dubstep'. It was inevitable, they had to give this non-genre a name sooner or later... It's just.. well 'post-dubstep' just sounds ridiculous. Now I could go on and on about how strongly I disagree with this new label, but this is a review about Jamie Woon, not the category you'd find his record in at Pure Groove.

It seems only a little over a year ago that Woon was coming up on the inside, buzzing under the radar, poised to break cover at any minute. “You guys should check out this guy Jamie Woon; like James Blake, bit Jamie xx... no it's not a joke that they're all called James.” Well, regardless, he is now filling a sold out O2 Shepherd's Bush. Quite a feat for such a recent breakthrough act.

On listening to his record Mirrorwriting, released on Polydor last April, his shtick seems evident: here's a guy with a wonderful voice who has decided to layer it over some beats, beats of the Mount Kimbie and James Blake ilk. The result? A perfectly competent and pleasant album, featuring some true as true pop songs such as 'Lady Luck' and 'Street'. And the sound? Well the sound actually fills your bedroom, your ears probably if you're playing it through your mp3.

This is not the case when stood in the Shepherd's Bush O2. If truth be told, the show comes off not unlike an awkward, overly prepared open-mic night performance. Woon's voice is certainly impressive: his vocal range is wide and he hits every note perfectly, but a good voice does not always constitute a good show. The overall music is sort of swallowed up by the space, it all ends up sounding a bit a capella.

I can't tell if it's just me, or if the sound really does pick up for Charles & Eddie. It seems as though everything is clear, as though all those onstage are giving their task that extra something. It's a big song shoe to fill, so I guess a half-arsed attempt wouldn't really cut it. It's a shame none of Woon's own songs garner the same importance, give off the same energy. And that's the overall feeling: it's a shame. His music is likeable, but maybe his breaking cover has broken his sound. What will happen to it if he has to play the Roundhouse? It makes one reticent to bother seeing him again. Had he planned for his music to be heard by this many people? If he had, he might need to work on it actually reaching them a little more for fear of losing their attention. One can only strain for so long.

TRUE TO THE YOUTH.

2011-05-18T14:12:00.002+01:00

PHOTO: LAURENCE TURNER

For a band like Columbus, Ohio's Times New Viking, getting to a fifth album is quite a feat. Here's an outfit that has continued buzzing, just below the current, making a ruckus and touring, keeping a following and most of all, keeping signed. They're one of those acts that you sort of forget about while they're recording and then oh, look! another record comes out and you sort of feel chuffed for them. Good on you, guys. Nice to see you still doing what you do.

Their foray into the music world, back in 2005, was brash and exciting. “What's this? Where's the melody? Oh wait, there it is, under all that fucked up distortion... cool.” By 2007, the lo-fi sound (and ensuing scene) was where all the cool kids wanted to be. The 2008 Shred Yr Face tour exhibited this trend with an exemplary line-up: Los Campesinos, No Age and TNV. This was the same year Rip It Off hit record stores, and everybody was all over it. 'Teen Drama' became a veritable anthem for this breed of youth, drowned in sound. Noise is what we wanted, and noise is sure as hell what we got from the Ohio trio.

Six years on from their debut and you wonder whether sound evolution is something the band have done good with. A label move (from Matador to Merge, represented over here by Wichita) and, it would seem, a melody move too. With Dancer Equired, it looks like the group has decided it's time to take down the curtain, bare themselves a little, quit hiding behind their wall of noise and push some songs. The melodies that were always present, just difficult to discern, come out to (be) play(ed). From the gentle harmonies of opener 'It's a Culture', to the more wastey and mellow 'Don't Go To Liverpool', TNV's fifth outing is, in all honesty, somewhat of a relief. Sure it's cool when a band stays “true to themselves”, but in some ways, this is still them, just a “them” that needed a little coaxing out.

For five years TNV stuck to their guns, churning out fuzzy record after fuzzy record, always welcome, so maybe it's about time they matured a little. Dancer Equired may disgruntle some die-hard lo-fi lover fans, but ultimately, it's a good record. The tunes are nice, and what's more, it's sweet to see them a little more naked, a little more grown-up.

RECYCLABLE ROUNDS.

2011-04-28T01:56:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: KIM MORLEY

In keeping with my recent habits of short sporadic posting and dancehall, my friend Dan Vogt put me on to this today: I never knew the backing track to my fave jamaican sex jam had been used by Busy Signal for his equally racy 'Tightness'. It's called the Miss Independent Riddim and is, effectively, an instigator of sexy, or rather, of the downright obscene.

"Tight tuh tuh tigh-tuh tight tuh tuh tuh tight-tuh tightest vagina"

Unlike Vybz though, Busy's vocals come off somewhat heartbreaking. Yearning, missing this tight gooch of his. It's all a lot more sensual than the rampant 'Ramping Shop' and the lack of female presence makes almost for a serenade.

Excuse my crude language, but it's only befitting of the context. Contextually crass. Situationally sexy. Makes for a welcome change from the vocabulary of ethics.

Busy Signal - Tightest Miss Independent Riddim by shannyboo242

PUT UP YUH FEET AN STOMP.

2011-04-24T14:19:00.002+01:00

PHOTO: LAURENCE TURNER

Spending Easter weekend in Toronto was the best idea. I got my first taste of summer yesterday; 19 degrees out, sun sunning, I didn't wear any tights. A leisurely stroll up to Kensington Market (it's just like Broadway Market except the people are friendlier), tofu scrambled eggs for Tom King. Milkshakes with Jenny and some finds in Badlands the clothes store. Not for me though, I was busy eating a shrimp patty.

This first really summery day, spent doing summery things, only reminds me that carnival is imminent. Carnival and my birthday (no I am not turning 12, I just look forward to these things). Beenie Man's new release dropped at the right time.

'Inna Di Gogo Club' is some good honest dancehall and I don't believe there's any way of listening to it without getting some booty shaking in, paired with a big ass grin. An injection of sun dripped energy for your mp3 player, it's time guys. Summer is coming.

Beenie Man - Inna Di Gogo Club by iFreShHMedia

NICOMACHEAN HANGOVER.

2011-04-16T01:05:00.002+01:00

PHOTO: RHIANNON JACKSON

Though my eyes are close to bleeding from all the reading, my eyes are still working pretty good. Good enough to feel the blood drip from Earl and Tyler's lips, spitting violence and aggression, easing some head pains.

As I have made pretty obvious, I'm a big fan of another of the Odd Future ensemble, Frank Ocean. Not only is the guy a total babe, but he's also part of the current rebirth of r'n'b. Yay! Let's saddle him up then with Toronto's The Weeknd. His House of Balloons is blending in nicely with all the OFWGKTA; more electronically friendly, but soulful all the same. Free too. Free love.

All of this is interspersed with Dear Sister's self-titled album, available via Bandcamp here. Also super hyped by me and also from Toronto. So it all ties in really. Really beautifully.

DOWN WITH SCHOOL!

2011-04-13T05:20:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: ADRIEN COTHIER

Maybe it's North America, or maybe it's a desire to feel guilt-free and justified in what I do, but the stress is getting to me. I don't think I've ever felt an academic pressure quite so strong, and yet this year means fuck all for my overall degree.

Maybe I'm buying in to all my Canadian friends' head fuxx. Maybe I wanna be Canadian. Like Jack Kerouac (fun fact) (never read 'On The Road'). ##

Regardless; fast paced, urgent rock is on my mind. Alternating between Ramones and Runaways, Joan Jett and Johnny Thunders. Junkies and Junkettes. My brain may actually be hanging upside down, and I feel I'm on a losing streak. Departure is so very imminent, and an unwillingness to leave is disturbing. My dining room and school cafe seem like more of a home than my own bedroom; like I'm avoiding, like a known STD. Don't wanna be infected, damaged by idleness.

Mind's turned to mush.

Brain's vomming all over the keyboard.

Still, I worked out how to do a footnote. And a Powerpoint.

That's a power point.

Ramones - My Brain is Hanging Upside Down (Bonzo goes to Bitburg) by SydVisqous

JUKEBOX PT.2

2011-04-05T05:49:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: JONJO HANCOCK FELL

So I hear Spring has most indeed sprung in the British Isles. Mind wanders to Brighton in the sun... London too. All the crazies come out to play, cans on street corners, barbecues in the park, bare legs and bruised knees. Cocktails beneath the beams and unnecessary suppers in the sunlight.

The temperature has now settled to above zero up here. Feels like Spring. Possibly the first Spring I have ever truly noticed arrive. Sometimes I feel like Judy Garland's Dorothy; I've been living in Black and White for the past five months and have all of a sudden discovered Technicolour. Sometimes like Bambi ('cept my Mum's not dead. Woops.).

As warm (ha) as it is, the days flit between light and grey. Rainy snow, snowy rain, and a lot of soft & subtle bass.

Warpaint one minute, Nicolas Jaar the next. Play it slow, ease it in. Often the best things take a little time...

Undertow by warpaintwarpaint

Nicolas Jaar - Keep Me There by CircusCompany

SET OUT FOR THE SUN.

2011-04-04T15:10:00.002+01:00

PHOTO: NOA GRIFFEL

In a constant state of flux. My return to the UK is imminent and am somewhat confused as to how I am supposed to feel about it.

Not so confused about Burial's triumphant return.

Since 2007's Untrue, we've all been on tender hooks, so tender, and so very irritating: what's he coming back with? Is he gonna come back? The odd bit here and there... never anything concrete, no signs. But here we have it. 2011 is the year he returns to us, and W O W. Worth the wait for sure.

'Street Halo' was released in the UK a little over a week ago ('scuse my lateness... must admit, I have been a little behind lately) and it's no wonder the record flew out the shops. Okay, so the below bit is dotted with frustrating Radio One interference, but the tune carries over. Breaks cover and what a track. Incredibly excited for the ensuing album. The prince of dark dub is back. Bow to him, almighty.

Burial - Street Halo by ListenBeforeYouBuy

London, I'll be seeing you soon.

TRACK-BY-TRACK: II

2011-03-22T16:46:00.003Z

PHOTO: NOA GRIFFEL

Frank Ocean is the soul connection in California's OFWGKTA collective. At 23, the guy has self-released a solid gold debut of top class r'n'b. The album is made of original numbers interspersed with a couple original adaptions of well-known tunes. What draws most with this record though is Ocean's lyrical prowess, delivered by his beautifully affective (affected?) voice. It is these words, his stories that have pushed me to take a closer look. The stories, and the fact that I have been incapable of listening to anything but this record for the past 3 weeks...

'strawberry swing' – As the song builds, so do the images in my head. Driving in the springtime, looking out as the trees blur into one another. It's all green. And I'm in an orange car, like the one on the cover. Feels like I'm leaving somewhere, but this is the opener. Leaving to head somewhere. Yet I can't see the ride slowing down any time soon.

'novacane' – And so his ability to draw up story boards before your eyes continues. Boy meets porn star (but with a “brain like Berkley”, mind). Porn star gets boy high. Boy fucks porn star. Attention's drawn to the boy's need to “numb the pain”, his inability to feel anything. Beautifully simple, yet beneath lurks something more sinister. (*Kubrick ref #1: “I'm feeling like / Stanley Kubrick... this is some visionary shit / Been tryin'a feel pleasure with my eyes wide shut”)

'we all try' – This plea-like track opens with a touchy issue: “I believe a woman's temple gives her the right to choose/ But baby don't abort”. This theme of pregnancies, mistakes, baby-daddies, is somewhat recurring. An insight into the guy's understanding?

'songs for women' – How nerdy a seductive crooner can be... Once you got the girl, how the hell are you supposed to keep her? I mean, if I was the chick in this particular story, I wouldn't be running off with no other boys. Dumb bitch.

'lovecrimes' – Rolling rhythm, set to the backdrop of a pissed-off Nicole Kidman straight outta Kubrick's “Eyes Wide Shut”. Why all the Stanley? I dunno, maybe Ocean too, is prone to the obsessive three week binge. The result? Dark and moody, black and broody. (*baby ref #2: “Is it really wrong that I wanna be the baby-daddy?”)

'there will be tears' – While Mr. Hudson's irritatingly monotonous voice proves somewhat uncommunicative, Ocean makes for a swift save. To the sound of clocks winding back, the heartfelt confession of a fatherless son unravels. “My friend said it wasn't so bad, you can't miss something you never had / Well I do, I'm sad.”

'swim good' – The hook sinks in deep, instantly caught. Images of a smartly dressed Romeo, à la Baz Lurhman. Romeo cruising, cruising into the ocean. Hearts keep bleeding, things turn black, breath turns cold. Smoothly, softly, pleasant and peaceful.

'dust' – The tortured (song)writer returns. An issue of intimacy comes to light. To what extent should one allow oneself to be an open book? Risk taking... all that jazz. It's rubbish but it has to be said; sometimes keeping one's thoughts to oneself is best. (Yeah, I use the term 'one'. No, I am not the Queen.)

'american wedding' – A truly innovative example of “music recycling”. While the original 'Hotel California' wove a sinister tale, Ocean's take on l-o-v-e in the US presents a much sadder story. Like a well scripted play, perfectly executed.

'nature feels' – Another example of how Frank Ocean makes songs better than the originals he's lifted the samples from. This one's all about the wonders of fucking in the great outdoors. Mmm, feel that? Yeah, fresh grass. Soil. Soiled. Mother nature sure knows how to set the mood. Frank's just gotta say the words.

Nostalgia, ultra comes off like a portfolio; carefully constructed in its messiness. The odd bit-link pours light on the seams, an insight into the composer's mind. A mind so tortured and romantic it's really very hard not to be drawn in, sucked in, drained.

NO SLEEP 'TILL MANHATTAN.

2011-03-03T17:33:00.005Z

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

Buzz buzz buzzing in the big apple.

Plans of galleries and good times. A Berghain night at the Bunker here, a bop down to the Bronx zoo there. Lunch in Brooklyn and drinks uptown. No real direction though. Let's just hang out.

Hang out and fall in love with Frank Ocean. Part of the Odd Future collective from way out west, this kid is making some of the smoothest tunes around. Coming off as straight up, no nonsense soulful r&b, it makes out so sweet, so fresh, soft sounds to my ears. His whole album washes over like a velvet wet dream. Coarse and kind all at once.

Get the record here. Listen to it all at once. Then come (back) again and again and again... 'Swim Good' is my song right now. Now and forever possibly, I think it's love. City and sound. It's the double whammy.

Frank Ocean - Swim Good by getfamiliar

TRACK-BY-TRACK: I

2011-02-14T21:42:00.006Z

PHOTO: TAM TOPOLSKI

This year, I decided to get in the spirit of Valentine's Day. Okay, seriously, I know there is no spirit to the holiday, but in light of all the red heart-shaped balloons and pink cakes in the shop windows, I thought it fitting to listen to Purple Rain, and only Purple Rain, for a little while. And no, I haven't got sick of it; aside from being perhaps one of the greatest albums of all time,Prince's oeuvre remains also one of the single greatest testaments to love. From the excitement of 'Let's Go Crazy' to the heartbreak of 'Purple Rain', the king of pop succeeds in tracing almost perfectly the lines of an infatuation. A sexy infatuation.

'Let's Go Crazy' – You know when you start dating someone you like, you just wanna party all the time. Party vibes right here. Nailed it.

'Take Me With U' - There is contentment. But of course, we're only getting one side of the story, the side that's really chuffed, really... blissfully ignorant?

'The Beautiful Ones' - “Why is it that all the pretty girls think they can treat you like shit?” A question as old as time. Springs the paranoia amid candid nudity.

'Computer Blue' – It's rubbish, on my part, but I have a really hard time with this track. On the one hand, all I wanna know is who Lisa is, but on the other, WUT does it all mean?

'Darling Nikki' – Post break-up sex and if Nikki's game, why not? A sex agenda of nymphomanic proportions. A stripped down song for a “strip down” occasion.

'When Doves Cry' – Through love lost, love lingers. This is not a swan song, people. There's life left in this mutha.

'I Would Die 4 U' - As great and as perfect and as wonderful as this song is... Oh man, this is just great.

'Baby I'm A Star' - Always feels strange, just like that stage. You know the one... "faux acceptance". Right? Hm. Maybe not really.

'Purple Rain' – The most upsetting love song ever. Persisting love, an ode to good intentions. Accepting defeat, this track sums up failed romance perfectly. Not to be sung to Nikki...

While Purple Rain is not an album imparting the joys of love, it is without a doubt an album entirely dedicated to love (& fuck). Oozing sex, paranoia, elation and fuck-ups, Prince drops us into the ever confusing realm of loving out of love. As heartbreaking as all this can be, one thing's for sure: this, this love of mine for this record, this is the greatest love of all time.

L'ETRE ET LE NEANT.

2011-02-11T21:24:00.000Z

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

Older is better right? Generally yeah, I mean if we're talking about cheese, or wine, or techno. Electronic music in general is the throne of the experienced. We marvel at the godfathers of the genre, marvel and respect. Any fan of house or techno will recognise the importance of the more mature beat makers, tracing their progress, their evolution. So whaddya do when the artist everyone's most excited about is barely two decades old?

Nicolas Jaar is quite a specimen; only just 20 and he's already releasing a record on his own label, Circus Company. Space is Only Noise sits in a league of its own; Jaar's now trademark unorthodox approach to techno comes off sounding fresh, so pleasant. This is not a party record, this is something to stick on at the end... Drowned in exhaustion, unable to keep up, it's an effort to move, but you wanna. Tracks 'Too Many Kids Finding Rain in the Dust' and 'Problems with the Sun' echo Massive Attack, all slowed down beats and wound down vocals.

'Space is Only Noise If You Can See' is, like the most part of the record, a slow burner. It builds further than the songs before it, introducing the second half of the album, a half that's a little more Cafe Del Mar than purple drank techno. The harmonies, mostly piano driven, exhibit Jaar's impressive tastes, and his even more impressive background knowledge. A self-proclaimed fan of Mulatu Astatke and Erik Satie, his sensibilities lye outside the realm of the electronic, all the while keeping one foot on the inside. This is effectively, a successful balance.

Beware of the valium lull, and stick about, stay alert, for 'Variations', the penultimate oeuvre, rings minimal at last. But of course Jaar has not betrayed his nature and the track oozes a foreign charm. This is the new sound, but perhaps one that will forever remain a solo venture, a personal mission, one that we must feel privileged to have shared with us.

GOTTA TAPE I WANNA PLAY.

2011-02-08T12:32:00.001Z

PHOTO: JESS CECILLON

The difference between a recorded track and a live track resides in the intimacy. You're in a recording studio, no one's there to hear you fuck up: you can do it over and over again (time permitting, of course). The 'do-over', that quest for“getting it just right”, will in time be ultimately rewarding. When you're playing to a crowd of people you don't know though, well you can't fuck up. Those rave and rewarding reviews you got for all the hard work you put into your record can be forgotten if you don't do it right live.

So is this to say that a live show lacks entirely in intimacy? Well that all depends on the band doesn't it? The intimacy of space is transformed, internalised in favour of the intimacy of minds. Okay, maybe that sounds lame, but it's really important. A group of musicians who can communicate by a look, or the way they play, tilt their instrument, or any other weirdo sign known only to them, that's a real intimate band. And a real good collective of musicians.

Tom Tom Club released their eponymous debut exactly thirty years ago (Shit! The 80s were thirty years ago?!) and its unique sound stands relevant today. Their impressive mix of early day rap, afrobeat and funk made for an innovative record, a new sound, something so fresh... Their signing to Chris Blackwell's Island Records must only be deemed a match made in heaven: his Compass Point studios in the Bahamas provided the perfect setting for Frantz and Weymouth's wonderful production. 'Genius Of Love' and 'Wordy Rappinghood' remain to date two of the most incredible pop songs ever made; instantly recognisable, Tom Tom Club truly succeeded in crafting a sound identity.

In 2001, Frantz and Weymouth got a gang together and put on a small show in their home studio, the Club House. 'Genius Of Live' is on the one hand a resurrection of this live gig recording (originally released in 2003 as 'Live At The Club House'), but on the other, it offers some new innovation in the form of a second disc of remixes.

A live album is a tough one to nail. It's gotta sound different to the record, all the while retaining some raw quality. And the best thing is, well, the Club House recordings do just that. The fact of the matter is, the band's debut was a true feat of masterful originality, and this only becomes more evident on listening to the live versions of the songs. It's hard not to smile, feel all warm and fuzzy when, at the end, Frantz and Weymouth introduce one another: “The queen of all bass players... Tina Weymouth!”

“Stick around the party's not over yet...”

It sure ain't, Chris. 'Genius Of Live' is a two part affair, and disc two sure does bring the party. With remixes ranging from dub to afrobeat to electro, the sheer diversity of the original track is only further apparent. While this is all very positive, there is some discomfort in listening to the same song over and over again. Okay sure, it's been tweaked and re-tweaked, stretched this way and that, but it ultimately remains the same song. A collection of remixes of various tunes might have been a little less harrowing... I suppose the second disc could be used for DJing... You know, drop in the occasional killer remix... done by someone that isn't the Field or James Blake.

BLOODY HELL.

2011-02-01T03:39:00.003Z

PHOTO: LAURENCE TURNER

It's February.

Cheeky January.

Wreckin' Bar (Ra Ra Ra) - The Vaccines by gregkent

V A L E N T I N E V O I C E S .

2011-01-20T23:27:00.011Z

PHOTO: SINAN JOHN-RICHARDS

Valentine's Day, I've always thought, was more a holiday aimed at a winning a box office smash, rather than the number one slot in the pop music charts, but every now and again something comes around that reminds me that the musicians feel love too.

Released on the 7th of February this year (strategically placed), and put out on pink heart shaped vinyl, Young Turks give us a duet. Londoners Jessie Ware and Sampha croon, all velvet like. I swoon. Didn't at first.

While 'Valentine' is indeed a beautiful vocal feat, it remains somewhat unsatisfying. I, now, really enjoy this song, but feel almost as though my need to listen to it more than once in an hour stems more from the fact that it doesn't end sufficient than because it has "H I T" written all over it.

Both Ware and Sampha's voices are perfect and really something quite remarkable, but the track seems to get to the point where you follow and then that's it. It's over. It doesn't feel like two minutes, it feels like a lot less. A two minute song works in punk, but just doesn't seem right here. An extra sixty seconds couldn't have done any damage, surely?

Delicate and light, 'Valentine' is lovely. Yeah, L O V E, lovely. But it feels like a simple aperçu. A quick insight into what something, had it taken more time and put more in, could have been. How perfect it could have been. It's so nice, but why do I feel like this when it's over?

Oh, maybe that's why it's such a good V-day tune.

LUV LUV LUVVAH.

TASTES LIKE DECADENCE.

2011-01-14T16:44:00.008Z

PHOTO: SINAN JOHN-RICHARDS

W O W .

I loved the last Hercules & Love Affair album, still do, and I am totally looking forward to their next outing. Blue Songs, from this little taster, looks set to be somewhat of a corker! Watch this video for single 'My House' and tell me it's not got c l u b a n t h e m stamped all over it. I just can't get over how well done the clip is though, points for effort. On top of all the ones already garnered by the killer vocals.

Love this.

THAT WAS A VERY LONG SILENCE.

2010-12-29T23:54:00.010Z

PHOTO: LAURENCE TURNER

The end of year round up....

Well, the weird thing about 2010 is that, for a lot of people I know, it was a shit year. That moment, clinking glasses at yet another anonymous "do".... "Here's to 2011, lord knows it's gonna be better than twentee ten...!" ... ehem, err yeah.

My year weren't so bad. It was this year I saw some pretty special things, met some pretty special people and made a pretty special move. All the above resulting in some pretty interesting musical moments.

Preeeettyy, pretty good. (Yeah, Christmas with the Tescos meant a lot of Curb re-runs.. Larry's rubbed off on me.)

So here goes...

Best gig of 2010:

LCD Soundsystem @ Brixton Academy, April

Maybe I feel too much for him, maybe James Murphy is overrated, but I don't care. A friend once said to me "You don't listen with your heart, you listen with your ears." and I quite lamely replied "But my heart is in my ears." Srs. This show was something quite special for me, and for everyone else present I believe. 'Spesh when the big white balloons fell down from the ceiling during the epic last moments of 'New York I Love You'. A swan song is a beautiful thing, James.

Best band of 2010:

Jamie xx

Ok yeah so he's not a band per se, but he's been all over the shop this year, it's undeniable. While the xx's debut album and neverending tour were establishing the group as a worldwide phenomenon, Jamie's constant sideline productivity proved that the band's beatmaker would not be resigned to just the one project. The release of his first solo single, 'Far Nearer', alongside countless remixes and the invitation to reproduce Gil Scott-Heron's XL record have only ignited the fires of my interest. So while everyone's getting hyped about Clare Diamondz and Ruff Maguire, I'm gonna be keeping my eye on Jamie, watchful and knowing.

Best festival of 2010:

ATP May curated by Matt Groening

I don't remember a lot of it but it was great.

Best audio-visual moment of 2010:

Chris Cunningham touching up the already incredible 'New York Is Killing Me' off of this year's I'm New Here. I don't think I blinked once the first time I watched this. It's the haunting image of the center frame: Scott-Heron's profile is lit in the slightest way, merely hinting at his skeletal features...

I'm just gonna link it to you, 'cos I don't know how to make a vid fit. Make sure to get it full screen for the full wow-factor.

Best album of 2010:

The National - High Violet

After years of listening to people go on about how great they are, nodding politely and saying I'd give it a listen next time I had nothing better to do, well... I was wrong to be so complacent.

Winner of Big Boi versus Kanye:

Big Boi

I don't know if this is actually a real thing, but I felt the need to pit 'Chico Dusty' against the 'Dark Fantasy' and, well, Big Boi's record is that bit better. Two very good modern hip hop albums, but the former doesn't feel quite so forcedly marvellous. Big Boi wins. Kanye, a close second. But I'm sure he doesn't care what I think cos Pitchfork gave him a friggin' 10 out of 10.

SAYONARA, BITCHES.

2010-12-16T08:33:00.009Z

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

Goodbyes are a weird one. Not gonna lie, Griffon, Boreale, Smirnoff and *new best friend* Belle Geule have helped this particular episode along.

The above segment was written under the influence of far too much festive cheer. So, editor's note #1: it was Absolut, and #2 I don't like using '*'s normally.

The first stretch of my french canadian adventure has come to an end. Prince's Purple Rain is on high rotation (I always find it holds some Christmas cheer). Too early for New Year's resolutions, but time to look toward what I can plan on doing out here in 2011:

- See Bri Salmena & her lovely band, Dear Sister, play a show in Montreal (http://www.myspace.com/thebackporchsingers)

- Go to the states

- Go to Toronto and Vancouver

- Rent a chalet

- See more gigs

- Go ice fishing

Skiing not really, but après-ski, why not? I can cosy up to some unsuspecting Quebecois and whisper the lyrics to Wham's 'Last Christmas' in his ear, post-Christmas sure, but totally fit for the ski resort vibes.

This all obviously presupposes I won't be discouraged by the disgusting cold.

UNTITLED.

2010-12-04T22:41:00.006Z

It's like being sat in a doctor's lounge, oustide a club. The beats, the sounds seep through the walls, comforting in their closeness, but still you're not there. It's all so dislocated. You're not where they are. You're waiting to be called up, prodded and poked, but still, you've got these minutes, this short space of time beforehand to let the walls bleed out and drip all over you.

London/Berlin based duo Hype Williams are on the other side of that wall. You can't see them, and you can make out their sound, it's all a little hush hush. How many of them are behind that wall? Is anyone else there with them, or are they just zoned out, honed in on what it is they're doing? And what is it exactly that they're doing?

...Find Out What Happens When People Stop Being Polite and Start Getting Reel is not the first you will have heard from this elusive project. It's been a while now that they're been piecing together various bits of sound, sampling modern day hip hop superstars (hey, Drake) and twisting it just enough to make it different. Hm, 'just enough' isn't right. It's very different. The inspiration is palpable but when you layer on awkward beat after awkward beat it tends to get lost in the mix.

Clocking in at less than 25 minutes, Find Out... is not a uniform piece of work. Some parts waver on for four minutes, others buzz aimlessly for less than one. It is an oeuvre void of shape and form, but it all comes together like nothing you're ever heard before. 'The Throning' comes off like some familiar late 80s tv theme, drowned out by elevator music like beats. 'Jesus to a Child' (mk. I and mk. II) hold a sense of urgency in their drug like drones. Oh yeah and then there's the opener, 'Rescue Dawn 2' coming at you with the wailing of that autotune baby to then drop fast into a tune not unlike Teengirl Fantasy's 'Portofino' doused in the slowed down lyrics of the Pokemon theme. Still with me?

It's being asleep and awake all at once. Copious amounts of ketamine and a heavy, earthy red wine. Lacklustre and exciting. Wanna get to the other side, wanna be on the other side of that wall, but maybe I shouldn't. The thick set distance- hang on, did my phone just ring? Oh. Where was I? Where are they? It's over, it's all over. And still I haven't a clue. But that doesn't seem to matter anymore, I like it the way it is. I don't want to know, but I want to listen to it again. I'd rather be sat in that lounge, air thick and weighty, getting' bled on.

NOW HEAR THIS PT. 8

2010-11-30T04:41:00.005Z

A voice is something very particular. Like a person, it has its own heart, its own weight, its own age. And these elements don't always seem to fit with the singer. Yeah, a voice is a particular thing, it can be surprising.

I knew Bri sang.

"Our friend Bri's coming over. Yeah, Duncan plays in her band."

I liked Bri. She came round, she'd just bought Carole King's Tapestry.

Hey, that's cool.

We talked about the latest Stones documentary, about Tales From the Big Pink and Neil Young.

At a Hallowe'en party about a month later I actually heard her sing. It was surprising- not because I doubted her capacity as a vocalist, but because I wasn't prepared for what it was.

See, everybody knows somebody in a band, but not everybody knows somebody with a voice like Bri Salmena's. Like Carole King and Karen Dalton, Salmena's has depth, beautiful and weather-beat all at once. It's mature, but it ain't heavy.

There is an inherent charm in each one of her songs; like Alela Diane, the seemingly effortless instrumentation dances with the vocals, the latter sometimes doubled up with a lighter, higher backing. Unlike Alela Diane though, Bri is entertaining and interesting. She's bright and she has a lot to say. I haven't known her for long, but I doubt a Bri Salmena show could be dry. (Sorry, Alela.)

Four songs on the internet, four wonderful pieces of music, and four stories. I reckon she's got a lot more up her sleeve, but until she's got them worked out, settle into these. 'Cocaine Lady' and 'Caitlin's Song' are ridiculously catchy- wait, that's not the right word... They got me though, hooks dug deep into my conscience.

"Oh, what a mess I've made..."

Yeah, hooks dug deep. We've got a live one here.

GO TO THIS MRK. 8

2010-11-23T20:38:00.004Z

How is No Pain In Pop so bloody on it?

This is a line-up hard to come across at any self-proclaimed festival, so if you got a spare eight quid and fancy a real good time, this is well worth it. The lads have done it again, compiling possibly one of the most interesting London based events of the year.

And I'm missing it.

GO TO THIS MRK. 7

2010-11-20T17:32:00.003Z

The hottest ticket in town tonight.

Please go for me.

10 OUT OF 10 OUT OF 10 OUT OF 10 OUT OF...

2010-11-18T03:41:00.004Z

PHOTO: CELINE MARTEL

Things are well under way out here. I have just given the get-go on a new move: no more halls of residence; it's off into the wild, not so wide (or populated for that matter) world of living properly IN Quebec City.

With this new and, quite frankly, very welcome and exciting news draws the end of the year. I know 2010 hasn't even reached December, but in the terms of the music biz, it might as well be up. Rough Trade shops have already announced their 2010 top 100, it's gone live on the site proper and everything. With this brand spanking new list comes obviously my top 10. I still, as I do every year, find it very hard to compile and it generally alters somewhat significantly a year after it's been published (mine, that is, not that of Rough Trade...)

Let's take a look at my top 10 (wait, it was an 11... maybe a 12) of last year. Now I can now safely say that Mos Def's The Ecstatic, Fever Ray's self-titled debut and Bat For Lashes' Two Suns would all now figure, replacing some. This I put down to my most played (head nod to iTunes' registering system...) I hadn't really listened to any of those albums this time last year, but I guess that was down to a serious lack of time, a lack, I reckon, I have yet again fallen victim to this year.

But here, again, is my time-pressured top ten of twenty ten, which I will amend this time next year, in routinely fashion.

1 - The National 'High Violet'

No doubt my most played record of the year, and I only discovered it properly toward the end of July. After my wonderful séjour in the woods at Latitude. Thank you, Dave Argent.

2 - Big Boi 'Sir Luscious Leftfoot - The Son of Chico Dusty'

This record deserves all the praise it gets. 'Shutterbug'. That is all I have to say.

3- Zola Jesus 'Stridulum II'

Dark and beautiful- I got totally into the whole operatixx vibe, even if the show in Montreal was awful.

4- Four Tet 'There is Love in You'

Hebden makes it for the masses, and so ruddy well.

5 - Warpaint 'The Fool'

What a beautiful find and what a beautiful band. Every time I have seen them live this year has been a treat. Well done Rough Trade for snapping these ladies up!

6 - Active Child 'Curtis Lane'

I know it's only an ep, but 'When Your Love is Safe' has been a fave pretty much all year long. Maybe it's cos the opening chords sound like a 5ive song... nostalgia, I'm not gonna lie, is key here.

7 - Yeasayer 'Odd Blood'

Only 'cos I wanted to make my best friend happy did I give this band a second chance, and I am super glad I did.

8 - Tame Impala 'Innerspeaker'

Sentimental value in that it reminds me of Chris Summers. Otherwise, it's just an awesome record to get stoned to.

9 - Terror Danjah 'Power Grid'

This guy has the power to get you moving, get you in the vibe to drop a load of e's and get your ass down to some dutty basement.

10 - The Black Keys 'Brothers'

Though Blakroc was not a bad effort, Brothers is a true oeuvre d'art. Soul cuts deep.

(The two that only just didn't make it:

11 - Beach House 'Teen Dream'

Very late discovery, but so very welcome.

12 - The Dream 'Loveking'

I love this. I bloody think it's great.)

...LIKE A FAT KID ON SHROVE TUESDAY.

2010-11-10T02:42:00.003Z

PHOTO: CELINE MARTEL

One of my all time favourite records is A Different Class. I love it, everything about it, every single track, every lyric, the artwork, the way it's structured... I could play that record over and over again for a whole summer and not get bored. I have done. Despite the fact that I was too young to "get it" the first time around, my discovery of it during my formative adolescence marked me somewhat, branding me a Cocker enthusiast for the rest of my life. That and the fact that my mother has and always will have the hots for him. Majorly.

So it comes as no surprise I'm sure, that, right now, I am beside myself with excitement. Cocker & co. have announced that they will be reforming and going on tour in 2011, starting with the O2 Wireless festival in July. I will of course be there. There, and any other venue I can worm my way into.

Though Blur did it in 2009, these reformed live shows in 2011 will mean so much more to me. Just thinking about Jarvis saucily hissing the lyrics to 'F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E.' gets my spine tingling and my insides doing back flips.

We're all meeting up in the year 2011, and it won't be strange now that I'm all fully grown.

My love for this band is the stuff blogs are made for.

Thank you, Pulp. Thank you.

HOW TO BE A GREAT POPSTAR.

2010-11-04T03:45:00.002Z

Just basically be Robyn.

It's so hard not to like her. Just listen to 2007's 'Handle Me' and tell me the girl ain't got style.

"But you're a selfish narcissistic psycho freaking / Boot licking Nazi creep and you can't handle me"

She deserves to span another decade.

SHAMELESS. (?)

2010-10-14T04:59:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: LAURENCE TURNER

For all my talk of Montreal, guess there should be some tangible (readable?) proof that I was really there, huh.

I know I didn't do (see?) as much as I coulda, but I certainly drew some metropolitan comparisons. I suppose that's what I noticed (cared?) most about.

HURTS JUST ABOUT RIGHT.

2010-10-11T11:18:00.001+01:00

PHOTO: JEANNE SALOME TASMA

Antony is one of those musicians you just don't want to see a change in. You can't deny, taking a long, hard listen to his back-catalogue, that every album pretty much sounds the same. But this 'same' is not to be taken the same way the Oxford dictionary would want us to take it. To make myself clear, Antony's 'same', is our 'trademark'. Our “just right”. You wouldn't want him to be any other way. You can't really see him winning his 2005 Mercury all over again, but it's pretty clear his well-deserved recognition and praise won't fade away. It's justified. It's done.

For Antony's voice is an instrument in itself. It is its own star. To hear him hit all those notes that seem so unreachable, so tough, so painful... well it only makes it hard. It makes it hard to listen to; 'cause there's some pain, there's some effort behind it all. But at the same time it seems so effortless. Funny, this music, this artist makes me muddle my words, confuses me. It cuts deep, but velvety like. It's such beautiful agony.

This review is not going to be a track-by-track piece à la Quietus. I guess this review is going to be and is much more led by primitive feeling. It has got to be said, up front and honest, that Antony must be recognised first and foremost for being the only current worthwhile vocalist of the 21st century. Many will think I take this éloge too far, but just play 'Hope There's Someone' to your mom and see if she doesn't cry. Yeah, that's right, he really moves people. Purchasing an Antony & the Johnsons record is like buying a ticket to the most wonderful and heartbreaking opera you could imagine. Each and every one of his releases succeeds in drawing emotion; tears, smiles... and that's only on the obvious front.

Swanlights, it has got to be pointed out, is most definitely not a swan song. At least I hope not. Antony Hegarty has consistently, over the past decade, provided the music-loving public with a sonically open book. Or at least it seems that way. Whether or not the previous is a completely accurate statement, it feels as though every one of his albums is a direct link from his heart to your ear. Corny, perhaps, but undeniable. Hegarty's emotion is so very present in every chord, in every change in tune, in every lyric. From the optmistic opener, 'Everything Is New', to the dark title track, 'Swanlights', this fourth outing exhibits perfectly the ups and downs of Antony's music. Of his emotions...? There's no 'Shake That Devil' on this record; the happier songs don't reach those heights. This time around, the merrier tunes seem almost superficial; lucky they're sparse.

Swanlights doesn't sound as though it's looking to really connect with the listener. If it does so, it feels almost unintentional. Is Hegarty branching out? This time around, could he be throwing caution to the wind in favour of musical experimentation (see aforementioned title track)? If so, he does it well. So well, that even unwillingly, the listener becomes so involved it's hard to remain objective.

After all, it's always hard to stay objective with an Antony & the Johnsons record. The narrative always seems outward reaching, the voice so vulnerable... like a desperate friend. I could even go as far as saying family member. It's all so familiar, so intimate. You don't want to be left out in the cold. Neither does Antony, it would appear.

There's a french verb, décortiquer, which fits just right here with what I wanna say. The literal translation, I guess, would be 'to shell' but it doesn't ring right. It doesn't even come close to what the favoured word looks to say. Trying to décortique this album is really tough. Antony's voice and his accompanying delicate piano are but just two elements of the most affective, to the truest sense of the word, album of the year. Björk's cameo on 'Flétta'... well it seems even weird calling it a cameo; it feels more like an anonymous guest vocal. Such is Antony's force. Trying to 'shell' this album is pointless. It's all that is to be expected of an Antony & the Johnsons record: it sounds like every other, but, and I mean this in the best way, like every other album, Swanlights hits you deep deep down, making you wanna hole up in your room and think of Antony. Think of him, 'cause with this quality of music, he's sure as hell thinking of you.

FURTHER NEAR.

2010-10-05T22:39:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

The obvious, stare-it-in-the-face pang of London nostalgia has come and gone.

It was Friday night. My second night out in my new favourite (London comes a metaphysical first) city, Montreal. Didn't take long for me to feel at home there; never in my short life have I been in a truly bilingual place. This case of bilingual being of the French-English kind. I was like a fish to water - being able to walk into any shop and speak whichever language I fancied only to know that I would be understood is a feeling I can't even begin to describe. I guess, in this case, you gotta do it to get it. Felt so good, like the first drag on a morning cigarette; fulfilling, intoxicating. Good. Yeah.

On this second night, I had gone to see Zola Jesus, Warpaint and the xx play in an opera house. I was sat down for the whole show and I didn't like it. The bands were fine, it was the vibe that wasn't. A new-born montrealais Parisian called Sam informed me Jamie xx would be playing a set at Le Belmont afterwards, a hot spot club I had yet to visit. Once I had gathered my ladies who'd been getting wooed by Macy Gray, I took 'em along, stopping off at some weird-ass house party on the way.

The queue outside was mad, but we pushed our way in, flashing a press pass and a bit of cleavage (the latter not on me, obviously). Le Belmont was filled with young xx fans, unsurprisingly. Jamie's set went down a storm and I got to spend a good hour and a half dancing like I was at Yoyo on a Thursday, or in Brixton any night of the week. UK sounds in a UK colony.

What really did it though, was talking to Jamie and Katie Young Turks, first two London voices in a while. It was all a little disorientating. Had it happened in Quebec City, things may have affected differently. It was probably the knowledge that I was in a real buzzing town, with a tube and a general all-night drinking feel.

The pang came and went, now all that remains is this. It's so nice.

CRACK, SNAPPLE & POP (sic)

2010-09-30T04:48:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: CELINE MARTEL

Headed off on a first continental excursion tomorrow. Gotta be up and out by 8am tomorrow morning if I wanna make it to Montreal for free. Things are packed, addresses and numbers writ down, eyes wide open - yep, I'm about ready to get back to a big city.

Pop Montreal has opened its arms to me, and I am jumping straight in, nose first, lips puckered. I wanna see what it's like to really be in a bilingual town, ehem, city. I wanna see the souterrains (or the underground city), I wanna bitch about somebody in a language only to find out they speak it and are really really mad... I don't know if I can get it all done though, I gotta see some bands too, y'see.

Now let's look at what we got: Liars... Municipal Waste... Negative Approach... Bear In Heaven... Holy Fuck... the xx... Zola Jesus Warpaint Babe Rainbow Mount Kimbie OH GOD. There's a lot going on. And quite frankly, I am 100% certain I won't be seeing all of these outfits.

Let's pray I get half way though.

TELL ME A STORY...

2010-09-24T20:17:00.005+01:00

I love a man that can weave a good tale.

Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band - Thunder Road (Live in 1978)

SONG TO THE SIREN.

2010-09-15T00:50:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: CELINE MARTEL

Zola Jesus' latest outing is a thing of true beauty indeed. Nika Roza Danilova's voice is as haunting as it is warming, drawing you in with one hand, pushing you away with the other.

Stridulum II is an opus of sheer heartache and woe. The tone of the record is dark and foreboding as a result of both Nika's voice and her lyrics. It's hard to find optimism with a track listing of songs titled 'I Can't Stand' and 'Run Me Out'. The artwork only serves as visual enforcement; a singular, lonely figure stands drenched in oil. Bust alone, but bust enough. The white background suggests a nothingness, an emptiness vast and maddening- no limits but bound nonetheless in some sort of tragic purgatory of naked abandon. It's an unpleasant image, deeply saddening yet, when teamed with the audio, it transforms, nay transcends into some hauntingly beautiful vision.

'Trust Me', 'Run Me Out' and 'Lightstick' reach out like ghost hands, looking to grab onto something tangible, something solid. The whole record seems transparent in so many ways, dark yet see-through, like the black oil that covers Nika's face. It sounds as though she's desperately searching for some redemption, some pillar of certainty. Unhappy alone.

Stridulum II is such a heart breaking listen, but it's so hard to break away. It drags you down. Drowning in her upset, you hope to resurface, hope to bring her with you, all the while knowing you won't. Her body is weighed down, much like her wearied voice.

(Get your copy now at Rough Trade and nab a free bonus disc mixtape featuring some ace stuff. £10.99)

HEART SKIPS A BEAT.

2010-09-11T01:26:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: SINAN JOHN-RICHARDS

So the xx won this year's Mercury Prize and I couldn't be happier.

I know this has got to be the millionth time I praise the London trio, but xx still has such an impact on me, a year on, and I honestly don't think that feeling will ever go away.

And while I know many who deem their live show to be somewhat dull and uneventful, thinking back to the times I have seem them play sends shivers down my spine.

Gets me weak in the knees.

This band has probably got to be one of the most private bands, taking private as a 2 way street of course.

The intimacy of their sound calls to the listener's own interpretation of it.

It's lame, but hey, isn't that what pop music is all about?

"I totally get this band."

"This band really speaks to me."

"I think this band is the only thing in the world that gets me right now."

Here's to a group that can make you feel like a lonely teenager, no matter your actual age, all the while never really being truly alone.

TOP 5 : WHALE ON THE DECK(S).

2010-09-06T21:16:00.007+01:00

PHOTO: SINAN JOHN-RICHARDS

Being in Quebec is interesting, does things to you. I do outdoorsy stuff here. I'm going kayaking with whales tomorrow. Top 5 in honour of this momentous event? Uhhh, yeah!

Gavin Bryars 'The Sinking of the Titanic'

So beautiful, so sad; just think how scared the whales must've been.

Active Child 'Wilderness'

It's mostly Grossi's high pitched and drowned out wailing that puts this track in here. Layered 'neath the falsetto vox, the deep, dark bass echoes sea(,)like.

Modest Mouse 'The Whale Song'

I don't think I really need to explain this one.

A Grave With No Name 'Open Water'

This is for the happy whales. Picture them swimming about, all grins and sparkling eyes. Yeah, this one's for the whale who just got a date with his crush.

Wooden Shjips 'Aquarian Time'

I reckon any WS track would do; fuzzy psych-rock, marred with its own distortion... It's big yet you feel it getting washed over. Just like a whale.

SWIMMING IN VODKA.

2010-08-31T00:24:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: JOE GREEN

WORDS: TOM WEBB

It is dark and I am drunk, and not in a 14 year old two-shandys-bed-time way. In fact, I have seriously over estimated my adult tolerance for a certain russian spirit. Surfer Blood, a group I have admired from afar (the other side of the Atlantic, to be exact) have just finished their first and perhaps only ever show in South West London's Kingston Upon Thames at the much bemoaned yet ever popular New Slang. The only appropriate thing for me to do, I infer, is to charge back stage and demand an interview. Surprisingly, this approach works very well. The singer/guitarist and MySpace proclaimed “mastermind” of the band John Paul Pitts and percussionist/keyboardist Marcos Marchesani take time to have a cigarette with me; enough time to talk about their album Astro Coast and their up and coming appearance at Reading and Leeds Festival. Even with my obnoxiously stating that, had the conversation on the merging of american “surf rock”(both East and West Coast) and echo rampant british new wave sounds happened in 2007, I would have stolen both the idea and Kingston's finest gals (doing their best to “ride” the “band” wagon), the fact that Surfer Blood are playing in the UK obviously pleases them. Encouraged, I start the usual patter

So do you like playing in the UK?

MM: Yeah, it's a great audience... so lucky to have people so open to new sounds...

Oh really?

MM: Umm yes, really...

And I hear the albums doing well.

JPP: Yeah, we're thinking of re-releasing some of the stuff we put out last year.

Oh really?

JJP: Yuh.

And what are you doing here so far from home?

MM: We're playing Reading and Leeds Festival, the Drums are too. We plan to tour with them soon.

Oh really?

JPP: Yup.

...

But seriously, regardless of my awful and intoxicated attempt at interviewing them, all credit to Surfer Blood; even for a first early slot they tear the place up, ripping through 'Twin Peaks' and 'Take It Easy', impressing with the Asia-style hair rock new wave cocktail 'Swim'. With the "This is England '86" advert audience baying for the "deeeeejaaaayyy!" to play 2008, Surfer Blood more than keep their cool. Any band whose lead singer answers the question “Why don't you sing your parts like you do recorded?” with the retort “Because I don't want to.” is a keeper in my books.

NOW HEAR THIS PT. 7

2010-08-25T21:17:00.003+01:00

Well these guys are causing quite a stir.

The Vaccines, formally known as Young Mothers, are a London four piece impeccably clad and providing the choons to boot. It's all good quality short-sleeved shirts, pulled up jeans and mocassins. Cute. Their sound is pretty tightly kept too: think 50s ice-cream parlour, Buddy Holly themed pop songs dipped in a light coating of Jesus & Mary Chain feed back, sped up and spun out, made for the teeny boppers.

I guess if you're looking for a more recent comparison, I suppose something like Best Coast could work... If you traded the 'california cool' lady vox in for a more upright, drowned out and british 'matey' voice. It's sunshine nice, but still the rain echoes. Cloudy. Like that posh apple juice. English in all the right ways. Mmmmmm.

Lead single 'If You Wanna' is so bloody addictive, it's so very hard to resist these guys' cheery-yet-melancholy sound. Have a cheeky little listen here: thevaccines.co.uk and make of it what you will, but I challenge you to not wanna play the song three times in a row or more.

NOW HEAR THIS PT. 6

2010-08-03T12:27:00.005+01:00

PHOTO: SAM HAILEY-WATTS

It's nice to see that the voice is beginning to be used as an instrument again. We've seen it with Dirty Projectors and more recently with Pat Grossi (Active Child); taking both these examples into account, we can all agree that a great voice can make the difference between a pop song, a blues song, a big song or a small song. Even without all the make-up of rapid note-switching and perfect pitch, just the voice, how it sounds overall, just that can mean so much more than anything else. No frills.

Austin's Love Inks seem to fit in with this view. It's hard to find much on this female duo, other than a good number of links to their self-released (through BandCamp) ep, Love Inks. Type this name into google, and I tell you, you'll be hard pushed to find any particularly insightful piece on the pair. Doing my research, the most I could find was a bizarre three lines on dontdiewondering: "Was spitting as a black cat crossed the entrance the other day, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine a career would come out of it. But there he was crossing the entrance and there I was spitting and all of a sudden - a career blossomed." Intriguing, sure, but where's the insight?

(I was evidently swallowed whole by this intrigue.)

All I can truly stress about Love Inks is that their sound is so pleasantly sweet and simple, you wouldn't ever want anything to change. You almost wish nothing happens to them, that they remain this strange & elusive outfit no one really talks about, no one properly blogs about and no one looks to master. But, on listening to the pop subtleties of 'Blackeye', how could you not want them to do well? It'd be like denying two of the cutest kittens you'd ever seen a hug. That's just wrong.

The ep is essentially made up of five simple pop songs. But, coming back to what I was saying about the effect of the voice, some of the tracks don't come off quite so pop-like. 'Rock On', favouring the lower of the two voices, comes off like a southern take on New York 1980s post punk. Needless to say, it's pleasing to the ear. Closing track, 'Too Wild' (...you're too wild, you're too wild...), seems to fit in with the whole dream pop aesthetic; a less complex Memory Tapes perhaps. I like it more though. Simplicity is often underestimated nowadays. It fluctuates, this understatement and right now, I reckon the beatmakers, like Love Inks, who favour this simplicity, are humming beneath the radar.

But then maybe they like it there.

EVERYONE'S PISSED OFF ALL THE TIME.

2010-07-27T18:33:00.005+01:00

PHOTO: LUCY TENENBAUM

I thought up this little rant a while back now, back when this year's Mercury Prize nominees were announced, and I guess the argument, or rather comment, still has time to be expressed/discussed.

So what have we got this year? Well, of course there's Dizzee, he has to figure, cos all his other records did, since he won it back in... 2003! Jeez, I mean 2003's Boy In Da Corner definitely deserved the prize, but a nomination for this year's Tongue 'n' Cheek seems a little OTT. The guy quite unabashedly has made it openly clear to us that he has found the "number 1" formula and has decided to do a Timbo and rinse it 'till there's nothing left to rinse. 'Holiday', 'Bonkers'... these tracks, aside from being incredibly irritating, don't, in my opinion, reflect some outstanding contribution to music for 2010. If the record deserves some sort of recognition, it's for having made up the majority of playlists blasted out of mobile phones at the back of buses all over the capital. Thanks, Dizzee. Thanks.

At the other side of the spectrum, this year's list offers up a whole load of singer-songwriter-folkey music à la Villagers and Laura Marling. Don't get me wrong, the Laura Marling record is an incredibly beautiful oeuvre; with I Speak Because I Can, it seems the new-folk starlet has truly found her voice. The simple softness of her debut transpires and blends seamlessly with a new found weight; with the voice followed a body. A deserved nominee is she.

Marling's bezzies appear too: Mumford & Sons, arguably this year's greatest success story, were obviously gonna be on the bill. Regardless of what you think of Sigh No More, the fact that these guys were able to come up so quietly on the outside, without some outrageous PR campaign to back them, was a pretty refreshing 'happening' to witness. A Mercury nomination can only have been the cherry on top of their phenomenal record sales cake.

Of course, Weller (wellah uh!), Biffy Clyro, I Am Kloot and Corinne Bailey Rae are all but new faces. Out of the three, it's Rae who stands out the most, albeit tragically so. Like Marling, the evolution and transformation from her upbeat, nonchalant debut to this darker sophomore album is evident. But with Rae, this transition was made all the more blatant by the news of her husband's untimely death being splashed all over the presses. The album's praise was not reflected in its sales and so, with this nomination, whether she wins or not, you can't help but hope The Sea finds itself pouring into the ears (and hearts) of at least a few more people...

Another pair to charm with their second studio outing would be Foals and Wild Beasts, who both saw their follow-ups widely acclaimed. Of the two, I'd have to opt for the latter; Two Dancers was in my top ten of 2009 and the record still works for me every time.

But, and I know everyone saw this coming, I gotta save best for last. It's difficult for me not to be happy for the xx: never has this young London trio appeared to be anything else but touched, and very much overwhelmed, by how their eponymous debut has been received. It is a record which, when loved by its listener, becomes an incredibly personal thing. And I guess that's 'cos of the environment in which it was conceived. Night time music. Alone music. But yearning to be shared. I've got my fingers x'd for them.

So sure, I have my issues with some of the acts chosen for the list, but then why wouldn't I? It's not the Lucy Prize now is it? So many people get so worked up about the Mercury do every year, it's just getting silly now. The 'Prize is just a top 12 compiled by someone that isn't me or you and that has money to make a big deal out of it. There you go.

Ps. Totally forgot to mention the token jazz band. But they're just not really worth mentioning anyway.

WHAT'S DUB GOT TO DO WITH IT?

2010-07-27T17:52:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: JEAN FELINE

It's hard to say whether or not Hot Flush Recordings' anti-piracy scheme is a stroke of genius or the worst idea ever. Now they're obviously not the only people to apply the mechanism, but it really is quite difficult to actually enjoy a record when an irritating automated woman's voice is dotted all over it. I know who put this record out, I'm reviewing it, I like music- this shit ain't going online, no chance.

Since the release of the 'Maybes' ep at the start of 2009, Mount Kimbie have been the hot flush everybody's hankering for. Being linked to the electronic scene's sweetheart, James Blake, only helps matters; his remix of the ep's title track had music nerds creaming themselves, and justifiably so. His collaboration with the Peckham duo has only upped their street cred, not that they're particularly lacking without.

The sound of Crooks & Lovers is the new sound; that slow, ebbing, watered down sound. Bizarrely, it's still penned as dubstep, a matter which should be up for much debate. Sure, the pulsating, steady basslines hold the pace, like some more artful and intricate take on Joker's early stuff, but the boot doesn't quite fit. What to call it then? I'd opt for “submarine sounds”.

The main flaw with the record lies not in its misled genre classification, but more in the direction it takes. Rarely does a track seem to climax; it's like having ok sex- nearly there, but not quite. It needs more work, more effort maybe? It's hard to tell with such a burgeoning style. The current climate appears to demand that no one hates on any artist producing this “submarine sound”, but it just doesn't quite feel as though it has yet come into fruition.

The highlights on the album, 'Before I Move Off' and 'Mayor' being two, seem more certain, confident. Like the sassier kids at school, these tracks seem to know their identity, but the fact that the record doesn't begs the question: do Mount Kimbie know theirs? I guess it's now just a matter of waiting for them to surface to air.

A COLDNESS OF WOODS.

2010-07-21T12:01:00.013+01:00

PHOTOS: DAVE ARGENT

I also wrote a review.

DARK HORSE.

2010-07-20T19:57:00.010+01:00

PHOTO: LUCY TENENBAUM

This year I have been lucky enough to see three of my favourite bands EVER. Glassjaw and Brand New even played together- jackpot. But Converge, who seem to be emerging as the Black Flag of our generation, headlined a show with three other bands that I did not see, because I didn't want to stand up from 6 p.m. and be tired for what might be the defining moment of my gig-attending career. Going by hardcore odds, the support bands probably won't last much longer and will break up, members forming new bands, incestuous hybrids. Picking three names out of a hat- someday there will be a band called My Left Foot- and spiralling deeper into the old band abyss of hardcore. But not Converge. They're not going anywhere.

I have come to realize that when writing about a hardcore show- or any type of music that defines itself by the heaviness of its sound- it is not enough just to write about the music. There are politics at play in this realm. There is also the longevity and perseverance of Converge, a band started by holy Jacob Bannon when he was 14, all of nineteen years ago. That is outstanding and also means that they could pick and choose from a sprawling back catalogue. Although this was one stop on the 'Axe To Fall World Tour', there was as much time given to their new material- more grandiose than before, but still with the same urgency- as there was to beloved older material from their defining albums Jane Doe and You Fail Me. In their final song, 'Last Light' from You Fail Me, every voice in the old ballroom that is Concorde 2 chanted into a swelling unison, 'THIS IS FOR THE HEARTS STILL BEATING... BEATING... BEATING' and you realize why you stare through the sweat and forego earplugs, to have that glorious connection with everyone in the room.

But what happens when not everyone in the room realizes why you're there? I went to the show with a male friend, who stood a few places behind me. I was the only woman that I could see who did not have a man cradling his arms around her when I inadvertently found myself in the middle of a triangle of couples. And this suited me fine, until some dude in the crowd picked up on my lack of partner and seemed to think I needed to be rescued. "So do you like Converge, then?" he shouted into my ear, an ear that was trying very hard to listen to this fucking awesome band that I love. No, I don't like Converge, I just really like tattooed men so I paid £12 to come in here and find one to take home. "Yeah, they're my favourite band", I replied. Now, this really excited him, as he persistently placed his cold can of Red Stripe against my back, hoping I'd turn around and tell him to stop (but of course he'd charm me with more dumb questions.) He was ignored for the rest of the show. For this guy and many, but not all others, the fact that many beautiful, strong and feminine women enjoy listening to hardcore immediately emasculates them. Surely there can't be women at this show who enjoy the screaming and the shoving, because women aren't 'hard'. They can't be part of the 'brotherhood'. What could they possibly feel from listening to Converge? A lot, my friend. We have problems with our dads too, guys!

So amongst a constant chorus of bass and tenor voices, craning my neck and utilising my tip-toes to see an obscured Jacob Bannon- it was vital I saw him- I used my voice to sing along to my favourite lyrics of all. 'I need you to be as brave as widows and soul survivors. I need you to be as fearless as new mothers and new fathers.' And if those words don't cross boundaries, I don't know what can.

...AND THE CULTURE.

2010-07-08T18:25:00.002+01:00

PHOTO: ED LILO

Sure, Latitude is a music festival, but feast your eyes, and ears, on these alternative options of what you can treat yourself to over the course of the long weekend...

Adam Buxton presents BUG

Of course Adam Buxton, comedian, writer and general music video geek, can be trusted to put on possibly the best showcase of new music video talent, ranging from the familiar to the downright bizarre. This is an absolute must, especially if you've never had the joy of attending one of the ICA versions of this event.

When You're Strange: A Film About The Doors

The reviews for this documentary are of the scale! It chronicles the Doors from their very inception right 'till their bitter end, or Jim Morrisson's death, all the while showing the leather trouser wearing frontman in all his pompous (arse) glory. Catch it before you have to pay a tenner to.

Phill Jupitus & Friends Improv Show

It's undeniable, Phill Jupitus is a funny man. And not just funny either, he's witty. His humour is sharp and intelligent, a refreshing pillar he stands as what it is to remain a well-respected and successful comedian.

Lyric presents A Midsummer Night's Dream

Try and at least catch one of the two performances of this latest serving of newly interpreted Shakespeare. I'd go for the open air show on the Saturday, but you may be busy, oh I don't know, watching something GREAT like the xx, Archie Bronson Outfit or Active Child, but fear not, they're doing it on the Friday too.

Guilty Pleasures / Smash & Grab / Swap-A-Rama

And of course, some of London's greatest soirees will be taking place, supplying you all with top notch tunes, dressing up and scenesters in the mud... or dust. Nice.

HERE COMES THE SUN.

2010-07-08T16:45:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: DAVE ARGENT

Latitude festival is upon us again. Set in a surprisingly lovely place, considering it's so close to Ipswich, the event favours the arts as much as it does the charts. Here's a couple must-see suggestions. Oh and a little reminder of the perfection that is 'Stillness Is The Move'.

The National

Not gonna lie, I have only recently discovered the wonder of the National. I misjudged, assuming them to be as dull and banal as their artwork, band name and album titles, but man are they great. New album High Violet is a treat and a half, and what with a reliable source having pinned them as one of Glastonbury's highlights, their live show should provide further wonderment.

Archie Bronson Outfit

Godfather's of the fuzzed out guitar sound (of this generation, anyway), ABO's latest outing Coconut has wowed the critics and the fans. Having left three years between this and their last release, pursuing side projects (see the Pyramids), it's great to see the guys back on the circuit. ABO, oh how we have missed thee.

Dirty Projectors

With the re-release of 'Stillness Is The Move', undoubtedly 2009's single of the year/summer anthem/best thing ever, Dirty Projectors may just win themselves that same title, second year running. With a live show that's renowned for being as beautifully grand as it is intimate, they're sure to garner some appellation, mainly that of loveliest festival performance.

Charlotte Gainsbourg

Spawn of Serge and Jane. It's basically like seeing them, just rolled into one. Need I say more?

Oh yeah, her Beck-tinted record's pretty much awesome.

Rodrigo y Gabriela

These guys kick ass! Their sound is generally thrown into the “yeah...world music...” category, but they're totally into Metallica, and if we're lucky, they may give us some covers. Scrap that, they most probably will. I'd say it's about as likely they will as it is Spain winning the World Cup, which, right now, is looking pretty good.

Dirty Projectors - Stillness Is The Move

NOW HEAR THIS PT. 5

2010-06-10T18:45:00.007+01:00

From Bordeaux, with love.

Thanks, Nita Keeler at Gold Star Press for putting me onto these dudes.

A surprise ep in my inbox, a pleasant little treat on a sun-drenched afternoon, Alba Lua's The Ballad of Joseph Merrick comes on soft, all lady-like vocals and slow rhythms.

Compiled of three tracks, this mini taste of what's to come sure is a nice gift! Leading track 'The Ballad...' sounds like the soundtrack to a cinematographic panning of an east coast college campus in June. The whole ensemble works like a true college soundtrack actually; it smoulders hazy dayz, all a swirl in a midst of short term crushes and cigarette smoke. The three songs waft breathlessly into one another, and it's really the second, 'Sungaze', and third, 'Valley Of Abra' which nail, what I can only assume to be, the band's sound.

Influences of this lot scream Dandy Warhols and all that early indie stuff which people make fun of now but which they also forget was actually quite good first time around.

So fuck you.

Here's the band's myspace anyway. Do with it what you will.

AN EYE FOR AN EYE PT. 1

2010-06-09T15:59:00.005+01:00

PHOTO: PAOL KEMP

Everyone's a photographer in the 21st century.

This particular art form has fallen prey to the digital age, fallen harder than most. The self-portrait can now be taken, and taken again, right up until the take is good. No more ugliness, just sheer perfection. Or matte perfection, whatever appeals.

There are still those that care though, and this goes out to them. Those that, in every shot, put time and effort, blood and sweat, tears... The labour of love is not lost, just misplaced.

Paol Kemp takes photos. Real photos. He measures the light and does all that stuff that i can only dream of understanding. Does all the stuff that I am far too lazy to even consider learning. Why appropriate the skills when the machines can do it for you?

These 'eyes', people who still feel that a photograph can capture so much more than the now proverbial "Kodak moment", it's these eyes that we still need to see through. There is beauty in the mistake.

With a style that just as easily recalls the first days of the industrial age as it does the constant movement of the NOW, Kemp's talent is undeniable, and very well travelled.

See more of his work here.

DISCO DAZE.

2010-06-06T16:05:00.002+01:00

PHOTO: LUCY TENENBAUM

A recent abundance of disco rarity compilations has inadvertently set the tone for the summer.

The Disco Discharge series reared its gorgeous head back in September with its first four-part installment, starting with the classily named 'Classic Disco' and ending with 'Gay Disco and Hi NRG'. Perfect bookends really, but not enough to quench the thirst. While the people behind these masterful collections have evidently done the homework, 1-4 can only be described as the tip of the iceberg; there's so much more to come!

Number 5 is now out and what a babe it is! 'Diggin' Deeper' is a double cd party, serving up such delights as Mick Jackson's 'Weekend' (instrumental mix, might I add, ladies and gents) and Dan Hartman's 'Countdown/This Is It'. Next in line is '[the] European Connection', with two more to follow in the next month. Why are these particular comps so great? Well where else can you find such feel good lyrics as "You sexy thing you turn me on / You got me starin' all night long" to the sweet sound of Disney like harps and orchestral strings, all glued together by that classic driving disco beat? There's a sense of urgency about every track, despite the fact that, being more often than not the original 12" extended mix, each tune really takes its time to seep in. Mmmm.

In the spirit of great lyrics, be sure to get your mitts on the first volume of the 'Digital Disco Deviance' collection. Sure, you may have all the edits on their respective 12" releases, but if you don't, treat yourself to this little gem. Less obvious than the Disco Discharge sound, the Deviance comp plays a little more with the instrumentation (well, I guess that's what you get with edits). Look out for Eddie Tour's 'Afrodesia/Coco Kane' reworking- stellar.

"What's his name? Coco Kane! / What's his game? Driving you insaa-aane..."

MY BODY H8S ME ROUND 2

2010-05-13T10:34:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: ROSA BURGESS

So the Great Escape is back again. And this time, my coverage will be more compact, but much heftier. Mmmm, small and chunky.

So for my choice of the '5 to Catch', take a look here.

And well, otherwise, I'm only bloody doing a LIVE blog over the next three days. Srsly.

So stay tuned, folks.

MEMORIE(')S LOST.

2010-05-13T10:02:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

"Lost my mind, think it must still be somewhere in Somerset."

"You didn't have a mind in Somerset."

Maybe not, but I definitely powered on through regardless. This time around, it was different, this time around, I knew what I was in for. No lost days spent blowing my nose in bed and wishing for a quick and painless death. No, the fear only kicked in once it was all over.

Friday, in some ways, is lost to me. 'Pon arrival, the TESCO supplies shop is made- this is, in some respects, one of my favourite parts of the whole weekend. Perhaps because nothing else has really happened yet, and on thinking back to these moments, I recall the completely over-the-top childlike excitement I feel, running around the isles desperately looking for baby leaf salad with the best part of a litre of beer already soak'd up in me.

Broadcast are first. Spectacle of elusive imagery and lights, the colours green and red dominating and hypnotic. Boy and girl face one another, playing to one another, but never singing to one another. No, the voice is for the crowds, the sounds are what's special.

As I said, the rest of the day is fuzzed up. Cold Cave rings in my ears still, Iggy's face looming through the crowd, his hands old and worn, desperately reaching out. Liars. Well, at least I bought one of their tee's.

Saturday is the busiest day. It's a special day; Boredoms play Boadrum. Zach Hill (of Hella and possibly the best drummer in the world) joins them, aswell as various other of the weekend's percussionists. What a sight! There's the guitar tree, a drum-vehicle and just some of the most incredible improvisation you could possible imagine. Deerhunter, Konono no.1, She & Him, Amadou & Mariam, Ponytail, Panda Bear... All seen, but aside from Boredoms, the only other stand-out acts are the Residents, who put on a show that is probably more theatrics than anything else, and the xx.

The xx, like Boredoms, are seen twice. I just love nighttime music. And drummers, clearly.

Sunday is Spiritualized day. Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space... Yes, yes we are. Jason Pierce puts on a show of epic proportions, making use of a full-sized gospel choir, a horn and string section and a fuckload of lighting. Mesmerizing. A religious experience.

Or maybe that's just what I put my body through, twice a year, on my pilgrimage to Minehead.

... I LOVE YOU, BUT YOU'RE BRINGING ME DOWN.

2010-04-27T21:26:00.007+01:00

PHOTO: ROSIE H LOWE

LCD Soundsystem are headlining Wireless festival this year. You know, that one in Hyde Park that nobody really seems to care about since Daft Punk last played it back in 2007? The one that is generally pretty hit and miss, ie. one of the two days gets all the best acts while the other just looks like the less attractive twin sister. I digress, the real point to the above statement is that back in 2005, they played pretty low down on the bill and this year, well this year they're headlining. Let's just take a moment to think about that.

I saw James Murphy and his equally cool bandmates play that show back in 2005 and they already felt like superstars. Maybe it was just the fact that they were sorta doing something no one else really hip was at the time. Maybe it was an early fascination with all things 'New York'. Or maybe I'd already developed my completely over the top crush on Murphy, either way, it's nice to think back to that show from time to time and reflect on just how big they got.

The second time I saw them play was at Reading 2007. It was the last night of the festival, my birthday. I'd just met up with a love interest, a romancer, we had just been making out when 'North American Scum' rumbled into my brain and tore my lips away. Crushed, in more ways than one, my feet barely touching the ground, I noted the considerable rise in attendance, echo of a rise in popularity; Sound Of Silver had hit the shelves that year. Their sophomore album to this day remains one of my all time favourites.

I guess this brings us to now. LCD are about to release their third and final record, This Is Happening. Their swan song. And it's perfect. Applying the punk of LCD Soundsystem and the funk of Sound Of Silver, this farewell oeuvre is fitting. It's great. But then I'm biased. I've grown up with this band; I sing every line, every chorus, from the "Oh ooooo-oh" of 'Tribulations' to the "Advantages! Advantages!" of 'Pow Pow'. I don't want to stop singing.

The show at the Brixton Academy was wonderful. Every record was covered, white balloons were released onto the crowd at the climax of 'New York, I Love You...', the whole band was perfect. They were loud and tight. They opened with 'Get Innocuous!' - incredible.

There was an element of tragedy about the night though; I'm sure I wasn't the only one to wonder whether or not this would be the last time I'd see them play. It's hard to come to terms with it, like seeing a dying friend for the last time; you know it's over, but it seems natural to leave it on a "See you later" and not a "Goodbye."

But then maybe no one's quite ready for that yet, I mean, the record hasn't even come out and we still have the summer... So "See ya", I guess.

HOT & BOTHERED.

2010-04-26T21:22:00.002+01:00

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

It's now been a year since the Strange Boys signed to Rough Trade, and even less since their last UK show, but it would seem that a lot has changed in such a short period of time. The first to mention is their new drummer, Mike La Franchi. We like Mike.

The 'Boys second album Be Brave was released over here at the end of February, little under a year after their debut ...And Girls Club hit the shelves. Sounds of said debut still ringing in our ears, Be Brave was a bit of a gear change; moving into slightly darker territory, blues-ier maybe, the band's sophomore record is a step aside from the clangy uptempo, seemingly carefree, rock and roll of their debut. A sign of maturity? Perhaps. Or maybe echoes of a new outlook; after all, a lot has happened in one tiny year.

Taking into account the Strange Boys' sound, the Brighton Freebutt is a perfect venue to put them in: dark, small and hot, the result draws parallels with the Crawdaddy Club. For a change, the girl to guy ratio is pretty just, and a bump 'n' grind feels fit. Feels good, don't it. Tight, hot and sweaty, pressed up against some stranger and moving with the twang of the guitar and the rumble of the slow and steady bass. That's got the groove going.

This crowd reaction is unsurprising; the band created a similar effect at their summer shows of 2009, transforming their tiny packed out venues into southern state blues parties. The greatest part of it all was that all they had to do was play, and the fans took it upon themselves to dance and be the entertainment. It worked back then, as a justifiable shyness seemed to come over the 'Boys as they played. But this time around, they're more confident.

Ryan Sambol, frontman and founder of the group, chats freely between songs. He makes jokes, teases and compliments the ladies: “Brighton seems to have the prettiest girls.” His swagger and ease draws out the confidence in the crowd too: one chick gets up onstage and adjusts his t-shirt sleeves, rolling them up to make him look more like what she'd want. He thanks her and, one song later, rolls them back down. I guess she's not gonna get into this one's pants.

The whole show is leaps and bounds ahead of their last tour. Their comfort reflects upon the audience: it takes two to tango. They seem happy, and bang through their set merrily, alternating between record one and two. No one wants it to end. I doubt even they do. But I reckon that for now, there's no end in sight.

MOVING IN THE SHADOWS.

2010-04-26T18:32:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

Betting on what the turnout at a Wooden Shjips gig will look like won't get you much: it's pretty self-explanatory. In fact, rarely does an audience resemble so much the act; the dish of the day, in this case, is hair. Lots and lots of hair. And in that respect, I must say, I definitely fit in. But then that's about as far as my similarity in looks goes.

The crowd at the Freebutt tonight, as expected, is mostly made up of thirty-something record enthusiasts, and occasionally their girlfriends. It's hard to tell whether the girlfriends are bothered or not about being there, but the guys certainly don't seem phased that their ladies are with them. It's all quite bizarre. Everything about the evening is bizarre, actually, and in the best kind of way.

The broads never really say anything, but the beards definitely talk; in and around every track, and the whole set, random facts are mumbled, statements made and private in-jokes chuckled at.

“I've got an original first pressing of In The Court Of The Crimson King at home.”

That's nice, dear.

The fact that the crowd is so very entertaining does not however deflect from what's going on onstage. It's just that it all works together, in some sort of natural harmony.

California's Wooden Shjips are an incredibly calming band to watch. Their sound washes over like some psychedelic space rock wave, salty. The moving sensation was furthered by the ongoing light show, projected on to the wall behind them. Black and white prints, showing us images of scaffolding, industrial scenery, the odd tree. All the photographs are saturated yet it's easy to make out what they are. They seem to be moving at a speed wholly dependant on the rhythm of the music, while still almost sucking the band into them.

It feels like alot's going on, and we haven't even got to the sounds yet.

The set covers everything you'd want it to: some of the earlier stuff off of Wooden Shjips such as 'Losin' Time', as well as bits from Dos including 'Motorbike'. Clearly, the new record Vol. 2 is plenty visited and all the material chosen feels instantly recognisable. The balance is flawless. Between tracks, a cassette Walkman, plugged in with all the electric organ equipment, plays snippets of watered down speeches. Of what, it's hard to say, but the effect is one of unease; this talking is weird, and sounds like drowning.

While the band are a pleasure to watch, especially when each member visibly goes off into their own “special place” (we're talking closed eyes, funny concentration faces and secret smiles), the audience acknowledgment is slight. Sure, a thank you is cool, but a little more talking wouldn't go amiss. Are the drowned out cassette conversations actually there to drown out the band's?

Despite the lack in banter, the gig is a rare gem, leaving one very stoned individual. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

GIN & TRONIC.

2010-04-15T19:55:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

OK, so can we please just talk about how great the new Joker track is? I know everyone is yapping on about it, but really, it's pretty great.

Joker - Tron

NICKI MINAJ IS MASSIVE.

2010-04-15T10:48:00.007+01:00

On the Guardian music blog, there is currently a piece about female rappers and their need for sexual appeal. Though very correct, the only thing I have to add is that I can't get enough of Nicki Minaj. Ace.
Here's a link to the piece anyway.

HARLEM SUNRISE.

2010-04-12T10:09:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

Harlem. Not New York, but Austin. Tucson to be precise, now relocated to Austin, Texas and causing a stir. It was Rich Walker at 4AD who first put me onto this duo back in March this year. Their press release, like most press releases, was positive, pinning the band as some new super interesting “it” group. Having self-released their 2008 debut, Free Drugs, a first comparison could be drawn to Black Lips; they too put their garage music out themselves, and hey! it's all southern states!. This comparison is ignorant though.

Now signed to Matador, Harlem's second outing, Hippies, is as endearing as it is clangy. The duo, formed of Michael Coomers and Curtis O'Mara, communicate via a medium of messy clarity. Moving away from the now highly trendy, and subsequently common, lo-fi sound, their sophomore album fits in whilst keeping an outsider steez. Sure the result gives off a fuzzy noise, but also making out lyrics and rhythm is like having the cake and eating it too- something that has become a somewhat rare occasion on the current “scene”.

This praise of tune is in no way an attack of all things lo-fi; I for one am still a great fan of rubbish production and garage recording, but Hippies, it has to be said, does sound fresh. It's clean, it's clear- it is pleasant. A polished turd, in the best possible turn of the phrase.

One of the record's strengths lies in its accessibility, further aided by the welcome fact that every track on the album is a song. From the steady beat opener, 'Someday Soon', through to the rock'n'roll a la Stones-esque closer, 'Poolside'. With enough listens, Hippies could indeed become a true sing-a-long. Indie-oke, anyone?

INTRODUCING SUMMER(S).

2010-03-29T19:27:00.007+01:00

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

This week I have mostly been listening to:

DAUGHTERS - s/t

As my friend & colleague Chris Summers pointed out so correctly: great music, slightly ill-fitting voice. Just not strong enough for the brilliance of the rest of the sound. Still, this record rocks pretty hard.

BREAKAGE - Foundation

Chris, again, calls this "whiteboy music". Yeah ok well maybe I happen to like this whiteboy music. Think Shy FX - oh wait, he worked on it, didn't he?

NIRVANA - Bleach

A classic. Like any decent outfit, a decent 'recent playlist' must contain a timeless piece de résistance.

FOUR TET - There Is Love In You

Definitely definitely definitely in my top ten 2010. Definitely.

THE TIME AND SPACE MACHINE - s/t

Rich Norris of Beyond The Wizard's Sleeve ventures out solo. No more Erol, and that's detectable. Positively delectable, in my opinion, negatively in Chris'. Think cosmic disco kraut wonder.

And then we can throw the forthcoming Trash Talk album in there too. Damn, it's good.

BYE BYE BUDDIES.

2010-03-29T18:54:00.008+01:00

2010 so far looks set to rival 2009 for the "Best Dead Celebs" award. In the small space of three months, J. D. Sallinger, Alexander McQueen and even bloody Corey Haim have kicked the bucket. We can now, with great sorrow, add Alex Chilton and Sean Stewart to the squad.

The former, I am certain, rings more tragic bells: founder of the Box Tops and Big Star, Chilton was a pretty talented and far reaching man about music. The Replacements even bloody wrote a song about him. (see 'Alex Chilton' by the Replacements.) For me, however, it was his early stuff that really touched base. On listening to 'The Letter' for the first time, I couldn't believe or even begin to understand how a sixteen year old was capable of such musical dimension (talking lyrics and vox here). His singing on the track seems tired and weary, the lyrics reek of mature heartache. But then maybe Chilton was just ahead of the crowd. Lord knows he always seemed it.

Sean Stewart's name shouldn't ring quite as familiar. Bassist in the Australian band HTRK, Stewart was not a household name, and neither is HTRK, but the news of his death comes as no less of a shock. Having seen them play only a month or so ago, it seems odd to think of them as changed... Farewell, Mr. Stewart.

GO TO THIS MRK.6

2010-03-22T20:52:00.002Z

7.30 pm - The Monarch.

MOLE steps up for its 4th time. Bands, dj's - all generally noisy.

I'll be joining in. With sounds.

GO TO THIS MRK.5

2010-03-10T00:11:00.004Z

EASY HIPS, some of the best fun I (and you, probably) will & have ever had.

Worth every penny, every ruined item of clothing, every last shred of dignity.

MAKE IT.

LOVERS' ROCK.

2010-03-09T20:12:00.003Z

PHOTO: ROSIE H LOWE

It's hard to not wonder whether or not the xx's cover (remix, really?) of Florence's rendition of 'You Got The Love' can take credit for their packed out venues. Komedia's larger room is full to the brim, heaving with young teens to forty somethings, all feeling this 'love'; particularly evident when the track is played once the band have left the stage. It is the first time, in all the gigs I have seen, that a crowd sticks around to enjoy, perhaps even waiting, the post-live sounds. A first. An intriguing, interesting and impressive first.

The xx can take great pride in the knowledge that they appear to have mastered the art of “first hit, winning hit”. Their self titled debut came top in the majority of 2009's round up lists, picking up praise across the board. Few and far between are those this threesome (formerly foursome) have not managed to enchant. Having nailed their signature sound by their second single, it's safe to say these young bucks are gonna be ringing in our ears for a while yet. Timeless? That's to be seen, but ageless seems to fit.

The Komedia crowd, bursting at the seams, sure is a mixed bag; had there been no age limit, tickets would probably have sold out faster than the week or so it already took. This sound reaches far and brings people together. And I'm not talking ages; couples are everywhere. The soft spoken vocals of Romy Madley-Croft and Oliver Sim tease and tickle the ears, chill the bone, call for warmth. Heat. By encore and closing number 'Stars', the (sexual) tension reaches its peak. Time to go home? Night time love.

The intimacy of the xx's album translates perfectly onstage. From the opening chords of 'Intro', an introverted silence softly settles, sort of like a silk sheet would. The lights are right down low, even on the performers, leaving sight to the imagination, in favour of sound. Sweet sights? Surely, to accompany the sweet sounds. Even lingering beer on lips takes a sugared turn.

As their more than familiar set lays itself bare, well known album tracks such as 'Infinity' come to us differently. A rendition of the “made-famous-by-Supermode” 'Tell Me Why' introduces us, melds into the standardly favourite tune. Much like the entirety of xx, 'Infinity' holds a special place; this track, echoing Chris Isaak's 'Wicked Games', is the true peak of intimacy and desire. Tragic want.

Now down to three, the xx succeed still in making one feel both alone and intimate. Could it be the duo-like vocals? Or maybe just the comfort one finds in hearing the lyrics. There's nothing wrong in being alone. “Sometimes I still need you” ( 'Heart Skipped A Beat')... And there's nothing wrong in wanting. In wanting comfort.

DUM DUM DIDDY (,GIRLS).

2010-03-01T18:51:00.003Z

PHOTO: ED BRIAL

“Is this the right gig or have Ipso Facto reformed?” This is a matter of ignorance versus the unexpected. From the overplayed demos of yore, it can only be assumed that Dum Dum Girls should carry a look not all dissimilar to that of the Vivian Girls, but then who should be the judge of looks here? We're talking sounds.

Bathed in light, past a sea of, let's just say it, baldness, Dum Dum Girls stand tall (literally), clad in black dresses and quirky tights. Three dark haired, one ginger... ring any bells? However the emanating sound is not nearly the same as IF; live, DDG sound, well, altogether 60s. The steady and rarely changing drum beat bats for the Shangri-Las and Ronettes of today. Wall of Sound-esque guitars, leaving us expectant of a Spector spotting, drown front woman and founder of the band, Dee Dee's vocals. There's a hunch that it may not be down to the strings though: is the mic turned on? Such a shame, she sings so sweet.

Upset aside, the set is tight and pleasant. Dee Dee and her lead guitarist bop about merrily, overshadowing the bassist's sulky demeanour. The songs keep everyone's toes tapping, and tracks such as 'Yours Alone' and 'Catholicked' are veritable floor fillers, hips swinging and arms flailing. The crowded room is a happy one and it's hard to begrudge the girls' lack of charisma. They smile, sure, but apart from a couple sheepish “Thank you”'s, the banter is scarce. It weakens the effect of the music. How to separate one track from the next; they're falling over each other. Slipping into one another. A little verbal punctuation wouldn't go amiss. Are they scared of us? We sure as hell won't bite. But it seems that neither will they.

MARRY ME(,) TONIGHT.

2010-02-17T17:09:00.003Z

PHOTO: LUCY TENENBAUM

Ignorance is most definitely not bliss. Not in this case, anyway. To think that HTRK (prononcé Haterock) have been knocking about since 2003 and that I had never heard (of) them 'till this past week is upsetting, to say the least. But it would appear I was not the only one with my head so fervently foraging in the dark. Since they announced these few diamond dates, their name has been everywhere, appearing in various industry mail-outs and magazines; four black, bold, brute letters, a grid, locked into place. Like the beats themselves.

The Freebutt is empty this time. As empty as a decent show can be. Onlookers dot the room, enough space to lean and still see. At ease. The stage somewhat reflects the spectator spot: three tall statures, immobile, thin. Founding members Yang & Stewart (bassist & guitarist respectively) flank vox and sultry siren, Jonnine Standish. All long legs and short skirt. Her single drum reaches somewhere between the top of her knee and her inner thigh. Brandishing her toughened maracas, she stands upright and stiff, in military style. Her steps and her drumming wreak of army precision, each stance carefully planned. Or so it seems.

The set is like a loud and disconnected lullaby. Standish's vocals soft and indecipherable in their inarticulacy. The distortion of the machine rules the roost, drowning out the sounds of the live instrumentation. It all works together, the harmony is still there, sunk deep, deep down underneath the watery criss-crossing of the electronics.

Urgent and cutting, tracks such as 'Rentboy' and 'Fascinator' hypnotize and make one's toe tap. Desperately keeping the rhythm, the eye never drawn away from Standish's stature. She does nothing more than play her part, and she plays it beautifully. Some beatnik babe, unwilling to utter a word outside of the lyrics. None of them speak. It's all very choreographed, but seamlessly.

As the final song comes to its close, awkward shuffling and confused looks spread across the stage. Then, almost as quickly as they came on, they are gone. HTRK, like ghosts, vanish and the room empties. It's like nothing ever happened, but it's so hard to forget that something did.

(IN) FOR THE WIN.

2010-02-01T13:46:00.004Z

PHOTO: MARION CANDY

Currently obsessed with:

Usher ft. Nicki Minaj - Little Freak

Freddie Gibbs - Murda On My Mind

Where did Usher go? None of that really matters anymore, 'cause this is gold. It's like when he had his last comeback with 'Yeah', but about ten times sweeter. Massive crush on this track.

'Murda On My Mind' recalls hazy late summer afternoons. About the time it came about really. Sunshine nostalgia. Big tune.

... WE MEET AGAIN.

2010-01-18T18:21:00.003Z

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

“Who came to see us play here a year ago?” I raise my hand. I mumble “I did.” No one hears. Unsurprising really, as the place is full to the brim. Had I mumbled something similar at the December 2008 show, I would have entered into conversation with one of the New York nymphets on stage. But it's January 2010, and the girls have come a long way. Two well received albums down and several successful tours to boot, Vivian Girls can now boast a strong live talent with a catchy back catalogue to prove it.

The room is made up of about 10 females (including the 3 taking to the stage), 1 unfortunately placed pillar and rather a lot of young excitable males. Again, unsurprising; here we have three good looking young women, who know how to play their instruments, at touching distance. Needless to say, the crowd was not so much dancing as drooling.

Classics from the self titled debut dot the otherwise heavily “new” set. It really is a bit of an awakening: a devout to the 'Girls first record, their live set opened my eyes to the wonders of Everything Goes Wrong. The band are gifted with song after song, from the grrrrl rock of 'Walk Alone At Night' to the Spector sound of 'Tension'.

The most tangible, aural evolution to be recognised is the general tightness of their play; while still retaining their DIY attitude, the Vivian Girls have clearly mastered their noise. Their set is honed and tweaked to perfection, and the show is without flaw. From here, nothing can go wrong.

SILENT NIGHT, HAUNTED NIGHT.

2010-01-08T00:03:00.003Z

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

It's a cosy situation, this. The “big freeze of 2010” has barely just begun. The first snowflakes of Soho start to settle. Baby, it's cold outside. And Madame Jojo's is so appealing.

Fingers burning with warm sensation, lips doused in vodka tonic and chapstick, the calm emptiness fills the low ceiling'd club. Void of sound, but not of body. There's a crowd. Drawn in by the velvet red temptation (promise)? Maybe, but then Esben + The Witch are taking the stage, and that name is more than familiar to the current cosmopolitan muso.

Listed as “one to watch” from The Guardian to the NME, EATW are the perfect seasonal discovery. Haunting, cleverly eerie, they dub their sound “nightmare pop”. Gives off an image, doesn't it? Oxymoron, anyone? It's hard to comprehend, dark pop.

The trio do what they do well though. Vox, Rachel Davies is darkly beautiful; a treat to the proverbial young male adult. Long, messy hair, skinny legs and drumsticks. She beats the drum hard but sings so soft. Her deep, well articulated voice carrying across the room like a velvet lullaby. Winged by Daniel Copeman (electronics, guitars) and Thomas Fisher (keys, guitars), she is the centre of attention.

The pairing of Davies essence and the very music makes for a zombie crowd. Hypnotized. Pleasantly drifting off into a horror fairytale. A cosmo-goth fairytale. This sound echoes only that of other recent young London bands (see This Tawdry Affair, and Ipso Facto – the latter now dismembered). Some attempts at weak comparison consider Cocteau Twins and Portishead, but it's softer than that, clearer.

Best known track, 'Skeleton Swoon' is tweaked and honed to perfection. In fact, the band should be lauded for their smooth performance. Maybe a sense of comfort brought on by the outdoor weather; a snowy coma takes hold. The red velvet of Jojo's... It's like the poppy scene in The Wizard Of Oz movie... Only darker, much darker.

A HEAVY FAREWELL.

2009-12-31T16:02:00.004Z

PHOTO: OONA BEAT

Last day of the decade and all that.

Playlist of the day:

THE DEAD WEATHER - Horehound

HEALTH - Get Color

A PLACE TO BURY STRANGERS - Exploding Head

GRINDERMAN - s/t

SLEEP - Holy Mountain

PISSED JEANS - King Of Jeans

SONIC YOUTH - Goo

I got the no pussy blues.

'THE FUCK?

2009-12-31T15:38:00.003Z

Where the hell am I?

Anyway, this is coming. It's gonna be good.

For a better, more genuine (perhaps) guarantee, see here.

GO TO THIS MRK.5

2009-12-30T22:39:00.002Z

I will be playing records, alongside several other musically competent people.
What you don't like doesn't matter; what you do like is sure to be played.
Y'hear?

IT'S A COMPETITION.

2009-12-11T11:09:00.003Z

This is a t-shirt Diplo has designed exclusively for Topman. Only 50 have been made, and so you don't have to spend a bomb buying one, this one right here is being given away.

So this is a competition, that means imma call on your imagination, intellect and great wit here. What I want you to do is:

"Using the letters D.I.P.L.O. give me a reason you should win the shirt."

The sentence doesn't really need to make sense. I just wanna see what you guys can come up with that is either real funny or real clever.

If you're in it to win it, just comment your answer or, if you're a shy one, email it to me (lucytesco@gmail.com).

Winner will be notified Monday.

For more info about all this Diplo/Topman comingtogether-ness, take a look at the Topman CTRL website. Diplo's taken over, so the site features an interview with the main man, soundtracked by all his choicest bits of music. There's also info about the gig he's curated at Fabric on the 16th, featuring Primary 1, Benga, Micachu and the Shapes and Mumdance.

DECLARATION OF A FIRST LOVE.

2009-12-08T11:44:00.004Z

PHOTO: LUCY TENENBAUM

Before anything is said, yes, that is Warren Ellis. And yes, Dirty Three were fuckin' awesome.

Coming back from ATP is like coming back from the American Disney World (and not the lesser french one) when you're 7. Butlins is the magical world of Walt and, in this case, My Bloody Valentine and their selection of chums are Mickey and his posse.

The weekend is wet, both in and out the pool, but that doesn't matter. See, nothing outside of the crowds matters. One of the great things about the ATP festivals is the people who go to them. Unlike most others, pretty much everyone there is 25 and over. More importantly, everyone there likes music. A mutual, unspoken respect lingers in the soggy air. It is a pleasant atmosphere. Pleasant damp.

The Friday saw a number of wonders take to the stages. I started drinking too early and was only able to truly appreciate De La Soul (one of my certified top 3 of the weekend) and Primal Scream. Two very attractive bands, might I add. Gillespie was looking particularly snazzy in his two tone suit and leopard print frilly shirt. I managed to lose my voice somewhere during 'Ring, Ring, Ring' which meant my appreciation for the rest of the weekend was mute.

The first night was then spent at Crazy Horse enjoying the sounds of Declan Allen and Cherrystones. Godsy's set ended with a nice dose of modern hip hop, including one of Jay Z's tracks about how ruddy great New York is.

Saturday was spent in bed. Attempted Sun Ra, but eventually gave in and headed back to the comfort of my chalet. I emerged at about 10pm to witness Bad Guys make a guerrilla appearance outside Tim Biskup's pop up gallery. It lasted one song, but was well received, and well defended with fervent booing at the dude shutting it down. I managed to stay up for Lightning Bolt (another addition to the ATP 1,2,3), No Age and Fucked Up. I probably should have seen Ariel Pink instead of Dean & Randy, but they were a laugh. Fucked Up weren't though. They put on probably one of the most disappointing performances of the whole weekend.

Sunday was a good day. Swimming in the supermegafun play pool was followed by a pop quizz. Sixth from last out of 28, 2nd in funniest name. "A Place to Bury Strudel" only just lost out to "Cheer Up, Kevin Shields", I guess the intellect of a topical name was bound to make the cut. A Place to Bury Strangers were loud. Not as loud as MBV, but they rocked harder. Th' Faith Healers were shit, but Dirty Three picked up the slack, with Warren Ellis and his marvellous facial hair making my knees go weak. EPMD were the last addition to my tip top 3. Lightning Bolt were the TBC, but weren't as good as the first time.

So I guess I didn't see all the 6 I'd planned to. My Bloody Valentine freaked me out and I had a public nap in the Pavillion.

ATP, je t'aime.

SOON TO BE TOMORROW.

2009-12-02T17:56:00.006Z

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

Anticipating All Tomorrow's Parties, curated by My Bloody Valentine. So excited my back hurts. It's been a long time coming, what with having bought the ticket in late May. With a line up fit for a king, a music mogul like me can barely contain herself.

Here's my pick of the top 6 (5 was too tough) bands playing, the six I hope and pray to see, assuming I can fit them all into the odd, hectic schedule:

E.P.M.D.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OC1psGZXZlw

ROBIN GUTHRIE

Not Woody Guthrie's kid, but one half of the Cocteau Twins. Beautiful one man show of ambient perfection.

MY BLOODY VALENTINE

Hello? It's My Bloody fucking Valentine.

PRIMAL SCREAM

I've been practising my hand clapping a la Gillespie.

FUCKED UP

Best band live. Ever.

A PLACE TO BURY STRANGERS

I hear they're the noisiest band on the planet. Have got my earplugs ready.

Tough to pick only six, but then, despite having already seen one of them (Fucked Up, might I add are my live act of 2009), I have attached a sort of personal meaning to seeing each and every one of these.

Let's keep our fingers x'd and hope I'll be able to write up a little something on them.

LOST BUT NOT FORGOTTEN.

2009-12-02T15:34:00.005Z

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

In late July of this year, a guy called Sam emailed me about his band Battle For Paris. He sent me their EP, telling me I should give it a listen and that if I liked it, would I mention it on the blog. I did like it. But like the idiot I am, left it to a later date, a date which got lost somewhere in my filofax.

It would appear now that the guys are getting somewhere on the pop punk&thrash scene. Mumblings of their EP release on Brighton based label Tangled Talk Records added to a good number of shows in the pipeline, mean that I sort of missed the boat on pre-empting the singing of this lot's praises. My bad. My loss.

Battle For Paris are indeed a solid, vibrant hardcore outfit if ever there were one. With guitar fiddling reminiscent of Shellac and Rolo Tomassi, their songs are instantly accessible, and grow better and better with every listen. The EP itself is made up of three songs: "Fuck Your Deja Vu", "Baby, You Are My Ammunition Dump" and "I Have The Jigsaw Man's Hands". The tracks seem to have been arranged in the perfect order; working their way from the simple to the more complex (if the word can be fit to the genre). They are tight and loud, just what you want from a group of young lads making noisy music.

As much as I appear to now be jumping on the bandwagon, it's gotta be stressed that I am leaping with both feet.

Battle For Paris MySpace

GO TO THIS MRK.4

2009-11-25T11:01:00.004Z

$$$FREE$$$

IT'S IN A WAREHOUSE, THERE'S AN ART EXHIB BEFORE IT &&& I MIGHT BE PLAYING SOME RECORDS... MAYBE.

TWO THOUSAND & FINE.

2009-11-24T22:27:00.005Z

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

Like every year, I have a really hard time with compiling a top ten.

Surely a top ten should be sorted long after the year has passed? I could arrange a decent one for 2008 now. In fact, I reckon I could compile a very confident top lot. But for 2009...

I suppose I must keep up with everyone else, and jot down my 2009 best. Even though I am pretty much 100% certain that, a year from now, perhaps even 3 months from now, it will change.

So, here is my pressured, super tough, difficult FAVE RECORDS OF 2009.

(Not a top 10.)

THE PAINS OF BEING PURE AT HEART - s/t

Their influences are evident, but since when has an influenced band been a bad band? The way they put their inspiration to use is flawless- what a debut! A real feel-good indie-pop gem.

KURT VILE - Childish Prodigy

A surprise in the top, considering I only gave the record a proper listen a week ago. When I played the album to a friend of mine, his only reaction was: "This guy sounds like a psychedelic Dylan."

HEALTH - Get Color

My favourite of the year. Best noise. Best pace. I just love it. See "We Are Water".

MAJOR LAZER - Guns Don't Kill People... Lazers Do

Funny AND it makes you dance- what's not to like? I've been criticised for loving "Keep It Goin' Louder", featuring Nina Sky. Why? 'Cos it's mainstream. Best track on the album though. The fact that it sounds like Akon may have something to do with it...

ANIMAL COLLECTIVE - Merriweather Post Pavillion

On its release, this record became a contender for album of the year. Although it didn't quite make number 1, it still held a place in my top however many of 2009 and for many reasons. Mainly because of its incredible sound. That and "Summertime Clothes".

WILD BEASTS - Two Dancers

This album makes my colleague, Cherish, bawl.

PISCES - A Lovely Sight

Off the Numero Group label, favourite label of the year. This is a fascinating archive discovery; 60s psyche miracle!!

STRANGE BOYS - The Strange Boys & Girls Club

"You'll like them, they're like Black Lips." Like Black Lips? Screw you! They're wayyyy blues-ier.

GHOSTFACE KILLAH - Ghostdini Wizard Of Poetry In Emerald City

Killah's lurrrrrve album. Mine too.

TINARIWEN - Imidiwan - Companions

This outfit are so friggin' rock'n'roll they put the Stones to shame.

NITE JEWEL - Good Evening

Off the ever growing No Pain In Pop label, Nite Jewel's debut is a true disco diamond.

THE XX - xx

Undeniably one of the most talked about releases of the year. And rightly so.

RECAP.

2009-11-03T12:52:00.002Z

PHOTO: CHLOE(SKIP)

So a month of silence. A whole month of writer's block, no internet and no home. All three are reinstated in my person now.

So this week I have mostly been listening to: Ghostface Killah - Ghostdini: The Wizard Of Poetry In Emerald City

Killah's back with the lurrrrrve album. Rammed with songs about making babies and what the ensuing newborn will be like, about falling in love, about puppies and shit, Ghostdini... is a tru gem. With cameos from the likes of Estelle and other smooth singing ladeeeez, the record is nothing other than a sexy accompaniment to a candle-lit soiree.

Of course the occasional track about fucking hos makes an appearance. Wouldn't be a Ghostface album otherwise.

Klassik Killah.

GALLIC PRIDE.

2009-11-03T12:34:00.003Z

PHOTO: CHAR HALL

The Welsh keep a tight posse. Underestimated and overlooked, acts such as Cate Le Bon have been slowly coming up the outside for a while now. Her name may seem new and exciting, but the gallic siren has been kicking about with Super Furry Animals' Gruff Rhys for more than a couple of years.

Stirring guts and pricking ears, she caught the public's eye back in 2007 supporting Rhys on his solo tour. The hugely productive SFA frontman got her on board for his 2008 Neon Neon project, using her as guest vocalist on the single 'I Lust U'. In Rhys she must trust, for it is he who, on his much talked about label, Irony Bored, has chosen to put her debut record out.

And what an interesting record it is. Le Bon's distinctive voice recalls Nico, with its capacity to reach incredibly low, almost masculine-like, notes. But unlike Nico, this voice can hit high too. On tracks such as 'Hollow Trees House Hounds' the majority of the song sees her voice at a permanent peak, always in tune.

There is no denying Le Bon's wide ranging talent (we have been informed that aside from all her psyche-folk, she also has a riot grrrrl punk band), it's merely a matter of whether or not Me Oh My is the right kettle of fish for you. The record comprises of ten heavily freaked out folk songs, some of which work and some of which.. not so much. Opening track 'Me Oh My', probably the best one to sum up the overall sound, is a real treat. With Le Bon's haunting deep voiced lyrics, “Me oh my, my oh me, I fought the night and the night fought me”, the ensuing psyche out seems nothing but perfectly placed in a song that advocates the bizarre and the inexplicable.

Despite being able to list possible influences and similar sounding stars, Cate Le Bon is in her own league. She is different, and we get a feeling that there will be a lot more to expect from her in coming years.

BEAST DIVINE.

2009-09-23T10:48:00.002+01:00

PHOTO: LUCY TENENBAUM

My 2009 ULTIMATE TEN is starting to shape up sure. Hundreds of small bits of paper with various drafts of it are strewn around the place, at work and at home. A definite feature, in amongst POBPAH and Pisces, will be Wild Beasts' latest. A stunning oeuvre it is indeed, giving an everlasting nod to frontman Hayden Thorpe's faultless falsetto. His voice, which seems to be the deal breaker for most prospective listeners, is a masterpiece, and combined with Chris Talbot's driving percussion, it makes its mark. Who else, really, is doing this right now? I suppose you could associate Anthony (& The Johnsons), but then it's still not quite the same thing.

Wild Beasts have broken cover, in a sense, by gaining a 'young & trendy' status. I guess they are young, and look good, but it doesn't seem to equate. Keeping out of the limelight, keeping to themselves, it really is about the music. Any other band of their generation and popularity would be appearing on the odd gossip page, hand in hand with a model-type minor celebrity. And I guess the fact that none of WB does adds to their enigma. The enigma of the wilderbeast.

So get Two Dancers and listen to it. If you don't get it the first time, that sounds about right. But whatever happens, do not dismiss. You might just work it out someday.

DO US A FAVOUR, WOULD YER?

2009-09-22T17:05:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: JEAN FELINE

So Q-Tip's new record came out last week. And by "new", I mean it got made at the turn of the century, ie. 90s. "What the fuck?" I hear you ask. "It's not new then, dumb bitch. It's a re-release." Well, actually, I think you'll find it's not.

Kamaal The Abstract was supposed to be the Tip's follow up record to his 1999 debut, Amplified, which shocked all the old school fans, those who had followed him on from A Tribe Called Quest. See, 'cos now I'm sure you all remember the sex hot 'Breathe And Stop', Amplified was just not what Quest had been. Q-Tip had attempted to transform himself into one of those pimped-up sex symbol rapstars, which he just wasn't. Clearly the criticism got to him, cos he then immediately went to work on Kamaal...

Funnily enough, scheduled for a 2000 release, his then label, Arista, pushed it back to 2002, all the while doubting its commercial potential. By the time 2002 came around, still no Kamaal..., and it was evident it just wasn't going to happen. The record was shelved, and to many, forgotten. The Renaissance came out and hit 11 on the Billboard chart (it was released on Universal Motown, thankfully, sparing those Arista fuckers any dollar). And so, with renewed confidence, 2009 is the year of Kamaal The Abstract. It came out last week and wow, is it jazz-y. Good though. Doesn't even sound too out of date, considering it was made ten years ago!

So do Q a favour, whilst at the same time sticking two fingers up at Arista's ignorance, and go get the damn record. No more sexy panting, just jazz flute now.

THE VELVET TOUCH.

2009-09-22T16:58:00.005+01:00

PHOTO: LUCY TESCO

With 'Velvet', we have a real contender for S.O.T.Y. '09 (that's Single Of The Year 2009) on our hands. Released back in April of this year, the track had an effect on the ears, not too dissimilar to Swine Flu's effect on our paranoia. Wow. What A Track. Emotive, dramatic, with an intense urgency about it, the song grew to be an obsession for all those fortunate enough to hear it. However, the following single, 'Dominos', was a step down from its predecessor. So as the first promos of the Big Pink's debut, A Brief History Of Love, began to appear, the question on everyone's lips could only be: velvet or domino?

After several listens, in an attempt to understand, there can only be one deduction: 'Velvet' was a one off, super special moment of genius. So the fact that the synth loving duo placed it slap bang in the middle of their eleven-track opus makes perfect sense. Like a sort of wonky tent, propped up by the strongest pole.

The songs seem to blend and fade into one another, in a turbulent mess of drummed beats and bizarre bleeps. All the while, singer Robbie Furze's distinguishable voice wails over the top, in a northern drawl reminiscent of Ian Brown, had the Stone Roses been more Pet Shop Boys than, well, Stone Roses. The magic hypnotism of 'Velvet' seems out of place, wedged between MBV-esque 'At War With The Sun' and the TVOTR-style 'Golden Pendulum'.

That isn't to say that the whole record is completely lacking in charm. Whilst on one hand being quite grating, Furze's voice, particularly on 'Love In Vain', echoes a sort of strangled pain. Touching, really. Added to machine maestro Milo Cordell's fiddling, it does work, but feels disconnected. With the release of 'Velvet' now long gone, and nothing but their underachieving debut to show for it, all that can be said is that they peaked to soon. The tent won't hold forever. The pole will.

EVERYTHING GOES NOT-SO WRONG.

2009-09-15T19:24:00.005+01:00

PHOTO: JEAN FELINE

Nostalgia is one of the most truly disabling sensations. A new bed will never be the same as your old one; so what if it was too big to get into your new apartment? There must have been a way. The new one sucks, isn't as comfy and looks shit. But it's the only bed you got, so you gotta make do with it. Eventually, you fall for the new bed's charm. It isn't that bad after all. I mean, some great things have happened in the new bed. Great things.

Brooklyn's all girl trio, Vivian Girls, won us all over with their first, self-titled release last year. Racking up an astounding twenty minutes, the painfully good looking and talented (see live reviews) ladies showed us that DIY was not only for the lads. And that they could sorta do it better too. With cunning lyrics ('No' in particular), this debut stole the hearts of skinny ass dudes and super impressed chicks all over the place. Finding a position in Rough Trade's 2008 top 10, they had succeeded, with their first shot, at producing an album that would get played over and over, and over again.

So now there's a new record. Huh. Apprehensive is the first word that springs to mind. Surely, a new album can only be a let down? I mean, come on! Who can top what they just did? They sure as hell can't!

Well, like the new bed, Everything Goes Wrong has a cheeky charm about it. At thirty-six minutes in length, we're already looking at a new level of maturity.. Or could it just be that the threesome have each found a new and greater confidence in their playing power? They must've, 'cos they are tight as a chicken's asshole. Longer tracks means more room for musical prowess, right?

While Vivian Girls was pure punk, riot grrrl stuff, Everything Goes Wrong has got a more doo-wop-y sound to it. Think more modern, harder Shangri-Las. Tracks 'Can't Get Over You' and 'When I'm Gone' hold that pop riff magic that only sixties girl group and Motown nailed. The band haven't totally abandoned their original sound though; on 'Survival' and 'I Have No Fun' we're reminded just why their debut was so special. Why they are so special.

Vivian Girls deserve all the praise they get. Here's a band that can maintain it's primary stance while still developing. Just listen to closing track 'Before I Start To Cry' if you need any more proof. 'Cos after all, it's all about what's happening in the new bed that's really important. You can still adore the old one though.

DOUBLE ACE.

2009-09-08T17:31:00.003+01:00

PHOTO: CHLOE(SKIP)

Pop punk ain't dead. I may be now though, seeing as I don't reckon Male Bonding or Eat Skull consider their sound quite so cleaned up.

Tough Love Records have chosen the two DIY dieux to star on the first in a new series of double a-side splits. Sweet, no? Both bands mirror one another over the Atlantic: one an established London good times trio, two thirds no-wave reprobates from PRE and fully rad. The other a West Coast noise pop quartet, with two albums already under their belts and boasting an important fanbase including No Age and Times New Viking. Both totally awesome.

The two tracks draw similarities in their fuzzy production and toe-tapping wholesomeness. Male Bonding's song holds a catchier riff, with a true pop-punk sounding refrain of “Yeaaaaaaaarr's not long.” Eat Skull, however, have a more elderly stance. Their song echoes late 70s punk; shorter, sweeter(?) and clearly more jammy. But that isn't to say better. Both groups have naturalised and firmed their sound, and it can only be a good thing that they ain't identical. What would be the point in it being a double a-side otherwise?

NOW HEAR THIS PT. 4

2009-08-28T12:41:00.005+01:00

PHOTO: CHLOE(SKIP)

Out very soon and incredibly heart-warming (huh), the Very Best is Malawian born Esau Mwamwaya and the Radioclit production boys. This equation makes for a rather interesting baile/global grooves/world music type result, appealing to all you lot out there who have absolutely NO interest in world music, but reckon you should. It's the crossover.

Sort of.

The Very Best - Warm Heart Of Africa (ft. Ezra Koeni)

BLAZZZT FROM THE PAZZZT.

2009-08-24T10:51:00.001+01:00

PHOTO: AMY BROWN

What would you get if you threw the Modern Lovers into San Francisco in the 21st century? Nodzzz is what you'd get. I know it's somewhat cliché comparing them to Richman's motley crew, but they really are the best and pretty much only comparison worth making. 'Cos Nodzzz aren't doing what all the other kids are. Except for maybe having a good time.

Their self-titled debut is, in essence, a true punk record. Compiled of ten songs totalling at a running time of 16 minutes, the record whizzes past in a haze of jangly sounds and intelligent lyrics. The topics span from karaoke to road trips, all the while communicating an underlying boredom. Observationalism is a la carte today: “In the city there's something to prove/ But no where to move”, they offer lazy observation but no solution. Stateside sunshine beating down on pro-activity, yeah?

'Highway Memorial Shrine' is an early highlight; cheap and cheerful, rolling music, driving music. Self-sufficient and satisfied. '(I Have) Bad News' is equally fun, with short sparky rhythm and rhyme. The entire record is the perfect summer wind-down. Picture slow sunsets, seemingly eternal warmth and comfort- putting off the knowledge that it'll soon come to a bitter end of introversion and anger. But in owning this record, it'll all drag on a little while longer.

PSA.

2009-08-15T17:58:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: SUZI BAKER

The xx album is out now.

Buy it.

(£10.99 Rough Trade with a bonus disc too!)

No regrets.

STRANGE DAZE.

2009-08-14T10:06:00.004+01:00

PHOTO: JAMES BURGESS

It doesn't really make sense that I, whilst everyone else dances, throws themselves and just generally has a good time, am stuck next to an incredibly intimate couple. Kiss, kiss, cuddle, kiss- elbow. They shove it aside, only makes me plunge it deeper between them in a desperate attempt to “make a hint”. This is all to no avail, as the gruesome twosome, who, it has to be stressed, are standing right at the front of the crowd, seem more preoccupied with one another than with the four Texan 'Boys onstage. Bummer.

In fact it's a real shame as the band are causing quite a reaction. As they glide through the best part of their album, seasoned with a couple new bits and bobs, a mini mosh pit forms at the very front of the audience. Let's not forget that Barden's is a true live venue: a venue that holds nothing back, ie. a venue with no big scary security guys to pick you up and throw you out the crowd for merely jumping. Nope, none of that. In fact as their set advances, so do the feet of all the young ladies near the stage. The Strange Boys eventually disappear behind the strange girls, dancing, some nearly grinding on the instruments, mic stands, etcc.. The band, however, keep calm and carry on.

The lighting, the smells, the general mugginess of the room all add to the effect of the show. The 'Boys sound fits the scene; twang and laze. Twist and shout. Wipe the sweat off your face and jig a little more. Frontman Ryan Sambol's voice (howl?), deep and earnest, brings the swagger. The four guys put on a great gig, effortlessly. The Strange Boys have been compared to Black Lips countless times, and, on record, one can sometimes see why that would happen, but live, it's a whole other vibe. While Black Lips are renowned for going mad onstage, The Strange Boys seem to leave it up to the crowd. A good thing, really. Without even a curse or a chucked can, the band succeed in transforming the Stoke Newington 'Boudoir into a grimey blues speakeasy.

The new Rough Trade signing make their mark with their first London show, and so the newest must-see band has arrived.

The Strange Boys MySpace