Thursday, 24 February 2011

Radiohead, 'The King of Limbs' - Album Review




Now that the world has had a week or so to live with it, a wealth of opinions have risen up surrounding Radiohead's latest, surprise release The King of Limbs. There's been as much speculation about the way it's been released - very little notice, no preview copies, no promotional singles, brought forward a day at the last minute - as about the album itself and the music within. The band haven't repeated the release strategy for their previous release, 2007's In Rainbows, which was released via download on a "pay-what-you-like" system. The average price ended up being about £4. However, the same innovative attitude was behind the album's release and served to make its arrival something that was genuinely exciting; people scrambling around on Friday to download the album, hear single "Lotus Flower" or watch its hilarious video.

The release strategy has been brilliant, and proven that Radiohead are a band who care as much about the way music is released as they do about the music itself. But how has the music itself panned out this time round? Divisively for sure. Differently to previous releases in many ways. But, I think, wonderfully - as we would expect.

The thing that becomes immediately clear when you listen to The King of Limbs is that it's a dramatic departure from In Rainbows. In Rainbows was so easy to listen to and love, returning to conventional song structures and instrumentation for the first time in a few albums. The King of Limbs is an experimental album through and through. We're back in a lot of the same experimental territory as Kid A, through there aren't lush, electronic based compositions like "Treefingers" all over the place. We end up with a synthesis of the band's electronic experimentation and their instrumental prowess, resulting in an album that sounds strangely organic, despite the fact that acoustic guitar only surfaces once and Thom Yorke's vocals are often heavily distorted.

Phil Selway has returned to drum duties with fervour after picking up the guitar for his solo project last year. His percussion is the dominant force throughout the album's first half. It shifts and skitters, scratches and ticks, creating a wonderfully textured and natural feel, like a forest floor. Standouts for this are "Little By Little" - which boasts the album's most infectious melodies also - and "Morning Mr Magpie", which also shows some stunning bass work from Colin Greenwood, reminding us that Radiohead boast one of the most genuinely innovative rhythm sections for decades. "Feral" however, despite showing a set of musicians clearly at the top of their game, probably sees the band disappear up their own arse a bit too much; the frantic and choppy rhythms mixing with random snatches of distorted vocals to create a fairly redundant piece of experimentation. Much as we love Radiohead, free jazz is not their thing. Ever.

The album's second half opens up wonderfully, coincidentally (though probably not coincidentally) starting with single "Lotus Flower", boasting the barely-a-chorus chorus of 'Slowly we unfurl, like lotus flowers'. There's a definite groove on this track, drums and bass gelling together underneath a classic Thom Yorke vocal. This is perhaps, as many people have been saying across the internet this week, the closest thing to a "Radiohead classic" going on on this album. It's followed by "Codex" which is arguably the album's strongest track. It proves that Thom Yorke is the master of wonky, muted piano ballads with creepy, unresolved chord progressions (think "Videotape" and "Pyramid Song") It's wonderfully downbeat and far removed from the clattering cacophony of the album's opening tracks, and highly likely to become a fan favourite.

It fades out with birdsong, before the gorgeous melody of "Give Up The Ghost" drifts in like a dreary, hazy traveller from the rain. An acoustic guitar appears, hugely unexpected, and we drift into a beautiful song which could very, very easily have been a Harvest era Neil Young track. This track proves that, as amazing as Radiohead's sonic experimentation and envelope pushing is, they are still at their best when they whip out the guitars, a fact which becomes further exemplified in the latter half of album closer "Separator". Both of these songs are beautifully arranged, but yoou can't help fight a little niggling feeling that you want more guitar, more classic Thom vocals, however bad that desire might be.

Lyrically, this album fully cements Radiohead as a band with overarching themes in their music. Since OK Computer, their music has always focussed on, in one way or another, living in tension and discomfort with modernity. They've sung about technology, consumerism, alienation and The King of Limbs seems to be focussing on nature. Or rather, it uses nature as a contrast to modernity (backed up as well by the "organic" feel to the album). Thom uses water a lot to represent life, safety and natural things. The album's first lyric on "Bloom" goes 'Open your mouth wide, universal sighs, and while the ocean blooms, it's what keeps me alive'. In "Codex" he sings about jumping 'into a clear lake', where 'the water's clear an innocent'. On "Lotus Flower" he sings 'Slowly we unfurl, as lotus flowers, and all I want is the moon upon a stick' and we get a picture of the beautiful potential we all have as human beings, which ends up being overshadowed by all of our cheap, shallow desires, robbing the natural world of its wonder. This definitely isn't some Greenpeace inspired, eco warrior sermon however, and you get the impression that the nature references are more of a metaphor than something explicit.

The King of Limbs has already proven itself divisive amongst Radiohead fans. Some may feel short changed and distanced from the band they fell in love with in the 90s. I think it's more fitting however to recognise this as a perfectly logical progression in Radiohead's sound - like I said, something of a synthesis of various elements running through their music. It's not the new OK Computer, and it's not got another "Paranoid Android" or "No Surprises", but it was never going to be. For a band as powerful, influential and downright awesome as Radiohead, I'm happy for them to have released an album that's not a masterpiece for once, one that's more of a progression. It's experimentation, but it rarely feels like experimentation for experimentation's sake, though it does occassionaly stray into that. We are all craving another OK Computer if we're honest, but Radiohead are definitely not one of those bands who write the songs people want to hear. Theories are rife now that new material is imminent, and that this album may be the first part of a larger album, or some sort of stop gap. Despite it being an eerily wonderful listen, you definitely leave with a feeling that there's more to come, as if the album is a moon orbiting a greater planet. Who knows.

There are a million and one questions and discussions to be had about Radiohead, their future and their impact and role in the music industry. Mostly good ones too. But for now, let's just enjoy The King of Limbs for its music; music that adds even more shades and tones to Radiohead's glorious career, and proves that they are still the most creative and innovative rock band on the planet.

7.5/10

Tuesday, 22 February 2011

NME Awards Tour - Crystal Castles, Magnetic Man, Everything Everything, The Vaccines - O2 Academy Brixton - 19/02/11



There are few things you could have crowbarred onto the poster for this gig to make me more excited. The most exciting new guitar band in Britain? A dubstep supergroup with a massive live reputation? An era defining band who, from all reports I'd heard, were one of the greatest live bands on the planet? And Everything Everything whose set I could have a little rest in midway through? Awesome.

This gig had nothing but "brilliant" written all over it. It was my first time going to Brixton Academy and I loved it as soon as I arrived, from the outside to the foyer to the inner sanctum. Despite a few hitches in the journey up there (which nearly involved a lift to Wimbledon from a pikey who's blown a speaker in his car from excessive dubstep abuse) my friends and I managed to perch ourselves just a little behind the barrier, slap bang in the middle of the pit.

I wasn't quite sure what reception The Vaccines would get, but I was hoping it was going to be a big one. They were the first act so of course the reception wasn't immediately amazing, it never is. But the crowd got better and better as set went on, and by the time we reached the brilliant "If You Wanna", the ground was alive with jumping, thrashing, flailing and singing. I was amazed that the opening act ended up with such a reaction, and it was clear that tunes like "Wreckin' Bar (Ra Ra Ra)" and "Post-Breakup Sex" had the audience enthralled. I've got a huge hankering to see these guys at one of their own gigs now.



I've never been majorly fussed about Everything Everything; their music's far too jam packed for me, they end up striking me as a cross between Herbie Hancock and a Klaxons tribute act. Having said that, they were a fantastic live act. Brilliant energy, a surprising number of big fans in the audience, it was great, even if the frantic, pernickety nature of the music didn't quite translate. The big sinalong choruses of The Vaccines were traded for mock scat singing where I was. I would probably have enjoyed their set a lot more if the crowd didn't decide to become a bunch of douche bags during it. I'm a huge fan of moshing and leaping around, but Everything Everything's whole set was just full of pointless, slow pushing, two idiots dressed in tiger suits shoving around like utter morons. The crowed spaced out for a dance off where I was and one dude casually whipped out a backflip which was pretty cool, but it sadly didn't make up for the immense douchebaggery of the rest of the crowed where I was. Still, never mind!

I was incredibly excited for Magnetic Man. I've never really listened to them a great deal, but what I had heard I liked, and I'd heard they were a great live act. Needless to say, they exceed all possible expectations. They were one of the greatest live acts I've ever seen! The songs filled the place to the brim, the whole audience bouncing, swaying and jumping to their massive, sublime dubstep sounds. "I Need Air" and "Fire" were HUGE, the crowed were wild, and things reached anthemic fever pitch when they busted out "Getting Nowhere" and Jonathan from Everything Everything took to the stage to sing what would normally be John Legend's vocal line. Their whole set was sensational. The bass was overwhelming, made me trousers shake and my chest quiver. There were a few especially brilliant moments where me and those around me just went "OH!" when the perfect frequency rumbled through us. However, the thing that made their set was undoubtedly their guest MC, Sgt Pokes. Lollopping around the stage like some ghoulish, dreadlocked yeti, his banter with the crowd was sublime ("I SAY MAGNETIC, YOU SAY MAN!"), he had the crowed rapped around his finger. And he had the single most terrifying laugh I have ever heard. That man should be a Bond villain.



And then. Oh and then. Then came Crystal Castles. Crystal Castles' live reputation preceded them like an Aladdin style parade. With glowsticks. And trumpets, big ones. It was clear that everyone in there was ridiculously hyped. There were euphoric cheers as the backdrop was lowered, depicting their album cover. Frantic shoving flooded the pit, everyone vying for position. And eventually, inevitably, they arrived. Ethan Kath and the band's live drummer loomed out onto the stage, taking their place behind sound decks and drum kit respectively. Alice Glass, the oh so desriable and frickin' crazy frontwoman, was nowhere to be seen. The lights lowered, and a wiry, shadowy figure was discernible in the gloom. The distinctive sound of opener "Fainting Spells" began to pump through the venue. The lights started flashing. And there she was, stage left. Staggering on, on crutches because of her sprained ankle, like a Satanic marionette. One crutch soon disappeared, the grabbed the microphone and the greatest live band I have ever seen began to tear the place apart. The whole set was one intense, throbbing, terrifying assault on the senses. And it was amazing. Alice Glass hopped and thrashed around the stage, the only woman to ever make a foot brace look badass and terrifyingly sexy. By the time she was (admittedly inaudibly) screeching out the chorus to the fan favourite "Baptism", the second song of the set, we were already under her spell. She went from hopping to crawling around the stage, thrashing and bouncing on the floor, to finally leaning into the crowd in the closing number, where every hand within fifty metres started stretching out for her like zombies punching out of the grave. Exaggerated hyperbole you say? Perhaps. But I've never seen a frontwoman whip up a crowd like that. Ethan Kath remained as brooding and taciturn as one would expect, but I think I detected a wee smile playing around his lips at one point. Maybe. The harsh, glitchy noise didn't exactly result in cheery singalongs, and I think there were very few people who could tell exactly what song was playing at any one time. But that's irrelevant.

Every other act tonight was fantastic. But Crystal Castles. They were something else. During their set I was nearly pickpocketed by a fat guy with a scratchy beard. I had to put up with dome twattish Canadian guy who was trying to shove to the front at the expense of some poor girls at the front, before one of the security guys thwacked him in the head. I had every crowed surfer who got pulled out of the crowed smashing into the back of my big curly head. I got more battered than at any other gig I've been to. But I didn't care. They were the greatest live act I've ever seen. They were on another level. Before their encore, they finished with fan favourite "Not In Love", every person in Brixton Academy belting out "I'M NOT IN LOVE!" Well. I'd beg to differ. Oh I would SEVERELY beg to differ.

Monday, 14 February 2011

Radiohead, 'The King of Limbs' - A Token Blog Response



You've got to love it when a bit of genuine, totally exhilarating and unexpected excitement sweeps across the internet. In an age where even the spread of a viral video is something that's no longer remarkable, and where new music releases lose any and all mystique through months of leaks and grainy YouTube videos pulling a fast one on the internet is a challenge to say the least. But, in true envelope-pusher style, Radiohead pulled it off this morning.

At 9am, it was announced via Radiohead's official website that their eighth studio album, entitled The Kings of Limbs, is soon going to be available. Wikipedia's going to have one hell of a time trying to pin down when the actual release date is however. Here's why:

- A downloadable mp3 or .wav version of the album is available through pre-order from this Saturday, the 19th of February. £6 for the mp3 version, £9 for the .wav version.
- The album is also available as a "Newspaper Album". If you're wondering what the hell that means, so is everyone else. It means that for £30 or £33 (due to your preference of either mp3 or .wav format) you can get the download, a CD, two clear 10" vinyl records, many large pieces of art work, 625 smaller pieces of artwork and a full colour piece of oxo-degradable plastic to hold it all together!
- It's available on standard commerical CD release from March 28th.

So they've spread themselves nicely across the next few months. After releasing their last album, the brilliant In Rainbows, under a "pay what you like" system, Radiohead had made it clear when they announced they had a new batch of songs ready that they had "begun to wonder about how to release them in a digital landscape that has changed again".

I'm guessing that if you're reading my blog you're probably already familiar with Radiohead to some extent, and most likely familiar with the details of release already. So I've just got a few thoughts to share about the nature of this release:


1. It's putting real value into the music
I've mentioned time and time again recently that music is so horrendously devalued in our culture. You can see it in the fact that pathetic and vacuous little scroungers like Bruno Mars somehow manage to dominate the charts and sell millions of records and win awards, simply by spreading their self-respect's metaphorical bum cheeks in front of a financially lecherous and predatory record label that's looking to pour malleable, liquidised flesh into a Chris Brown shaped mould and press it into a walking, warbling mess of musical spam within the shadowy bowels of their iron clad headquarters. You can also see it in the WE WANT IT NOW attitude to downloading music, where piracy is on the rise and physical music sales plummet whilst digital sales stall. It's so hard to be really excited by music and to really want to cherish it.

This model of release, however, shows Radiohead trying to get people to do that. They've given mere days warning prior to the album's release which has made genuine, underwear soiling excitement erupt shamelessly across the board. And the idea of the "Newspaper Album" is brilliant. The exact origin of the name is perhaps horrendously unclear, but that's besides the point. They're making a point that their music is something that they want to be special and collectible. They want it to be something that rewards their loyalest fans and gives them more than your average, more infrequent listener. And they've done it in a fresh, creative and brilliant way. And it's not like they're making it into a high end product, and definitely not as if they're turning it into an extortionate gimmick. They're straddling both the "digital landscape" they themselves had identified, as well as the physical plain of musical releases, valued highly by serious music lovers. It's a stand against the throwaway nature of a lot of music in the 21st century.

2. However, it's easy for them
Brilliant as this model is, and as strong a stand as it may be, it's easy for Radiohead to do. Not necessarily easy in a creative sense(though I get the impression that Jonny Greenwood has a small army of gnome slaves in his brain, whipped into building and rebuilding large, shiny musical pyramids inside his unsettlingly prolific brain) but easy in a financial sense. They're 8 albums into their career, clearly well off enough to be acting without a label and could probably live comfortably off of royalties if they wanted. I'm not saying "they prostituted themselves to the music industry and now they're turning round and criticising it". I'm pointing out that they made their money in the industry when it functioned a heck of a lot differently, and didn't suffer so much from the problems I've mentioned. When it became clear that the industry was going ethically south they decided to take a very valid stance against it, but they were only able to do so financially because they'd already made their money. New bands, or less successful bands, couldn't really echo this model of release. Please be aware though, I am far from calling them hypocrites or questioning their integrity.

3. The music press are going to snipe at them whatever happens
Even just from the few opinion based blogs and articles I've read about this today, it's clear that the musical press which keeps on purporting the value of innovation in the release of new music and spitting venom about the shallow and extortionate music industry, is the same musical press that's willing to take a pointless and defamatory stab at bands like Radiohead who are striving to preserve the value of music. They do it partly because of the overly sceptical and distrustful age in which we live but probably mostly because they want to get cheap laughs and lots of comments from their readers. It's pathetic really; and Radiohead, like any band with something special about them I guess, are going to attract a good number of embittered, small minded critics.

4. But could it change the industry?
Like I've said above, small bands and bands trying to break into the music industry can't possibly use the same model of release as Radiohead. At current they often have to simply dance to the record labels' tunes or, even if they're on a fantastic independent label with a lot of integrity, deal with the harsh realities of the world. So will this model of release directly change anything? I'm not so sure. But indirectly it could. It could set a precedent for other big indie acts to follow, and I think that it's with them that the future lies. If Radiohead started a label and began recruiting new, emerging artists then you'd have a label run by bosses with a clear passion and vision for putting out releases which give value to the music. They'd also be bosses with the money and, perhaps more importantly, the industry influence to make it happen. And if half a dozen other big, creative and honourable indie acts followed, we would be rolling in it folks.

So there you have it folks. A few thoughts from me on what is surely one of the biggest musical events of 2011, and (maybe, just maybe) of the early 21st century. Who knows. What I do know is that I'm bloody excited.

Here's a video of them performing for the awesome sessions website From The Basement. More of the same please boys:

Sunday, 13 February 2011

Those Dancing Days - "I'll Be Yours"




I'm a big fan of the cold and rain if I'm honest; mainly because I enjoy wrapping myself up warm against it, sticking my headphones in and trotting of carefree through the puddles like a gangly, oversized 6 year old. In this cold and rainy February weather, you can derive a beautifully satisfying feeling of warmth and contentment when you find just the right song to set against the grey sheets of heavenly piss blowing in from the north. And for the last few days, that aforementioned song has been, for me, "I'll Be Yours" by Those Dancing Days, a worryingly cute bunch of indie pop girls from Sweden.

I first found these girls a few weeks ago when the NME made their track "Fuckarias" their track of week. I investigated and enjoy, and made a mental note to follow it up. They remind me of Summer Camp, Belle & Sebastian, Shout Out Louds, that sort of stuff. Somewhat surprisingly they're named after a Led Zeppelin track, but all hail s wealth of influences. When I discovered this track and its video, I just melted like butter. It's so beautifully, hopelessly romantic. All the band members are pushing the Zooey-Deschanel factor to the max, stunningly and indie-ly gorgeous. It's not contrived or sickly sweet or overly twee though. It's just wonderfully adorable, excitable, romantic indie pop. And mesmerisingly catchy! It makes me feel moronically happy and I want find everyone I love and give them a big, shameless hug.

They're signed to the wonderful Witicha Recordings so I would have expected nothing less than brilliance. Their sophomore album Daydreams & Nightmares is out March 7th, and I think that it's going to enjoy some heavy rotation in my house this year!

Thursday, 10 February 2011

The Strokes - "Under Cover of Darkness"



Last night folks. Last night was it. One of the most important musical nights of the year. Perhaps of the last 5 years. No, it wasn't Marcus Mumford revealing he's now so rustic that his waistcoat has fused to his back and built a small stone cottage populated by Leprechauns smoking cork pipes. No. It was the premier of the first new material from The Strokes since 2006. I, like a lot of music fans across the UK, was hunched expectantly by my radio at 7:30, listening reverently to the mighty Zane Lowe and diverting my attention from the England match. Even though I'm not really old enough to have experienced The Strokes the first time, having become a fan since then and an advocate of them as the most important band of the 21st century, I was more than a tad excited.

The weight of expectation was massive. The relative disappointments of their second and third albums still hadn't shaken off the sublime quality of Is This It?, and deep down I, and I imagine everyone else, was desperately WANTING this new song to be brilliant. So much.

And as far as I'm concerned, it is.

"Under Cover of Darkness" is a flipping fantastic song. The opening riff is so bouncy, sunny and carefree; I fell in love with it instantly. Albert Hammond Jr's guitars have for too long been absent. It's immediately obvious that The Strokes aren't trying to abandon their classic sound, and it would be criminal for them to do so. The opening guitar parts are so recognisably Strokes-y, they're the perfect homecoming announcement. Julian's vocals sound a bit different than before, even from his 2009 solo album Phrazes for the Young; but it's still got the shambolic, slapdash, almost drunken drawl that we all fell in love with. He sings a chorus which is just sensational. Really. I've listened to it time and time again since yesterday thinking "is this chorus really as good as I think it is?" Yes. Yes it is. It might seem at a cursory listen that there's not really that much to it. But it's brilliantly understated. It's so melodic, so singalongable (yes, that is a word)I can just imagine Julian and Albert singing into the same mike with this, John-and-Paul style. I immediately started thinking about singing it in a massive sunny field with thousands of other people. So I better get a chance to see them this year...

I love this track. It's exactly what I wanted from The Strokes. How it will be received commercially and critically remains to be seen. Immediate fan reaction is pretty mixed. The face of guitar may have changed a lot since 2006, as I mention in a previous post about The Strokes. And I've been wondering if they've left it too long, as if they're part of a by gone age. But when the tunes are as brilliant as this, all my worries melt away.

So more of the same please boys. I want a mammoth indie rock band a bit more playful than Arcade Fire to be ruling the roost this year.

Click here to go to their website and download the track for free. Download ends tomorrow evening.

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Dum Dum Girls - "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" (The Smiths Cover)



I have been listening to untold amounts of The Smiths recently (and expect a post on that shortly) so I was pretty chuffed when I saw that Dum Dum Girls have covered "There is a Light That Never Goes Out" for their upcoming EP, He Gets Me High. The original is of course always coming up in "Greatest Songs Ever" lists and the like, and regarded by many fans as the band's finest hour. It's been covered umpteen times by a million different artists, but this cover really grabs me!

The girls give it a heavier, almost grungy twist, with Dee Dee's vocals drizzled like honey over the mix. Often with covers of big, famous songs like this one, the vocal delivery lacks any real emotional resonance, and the vocalist doesn't seem to be able to put any personality into lyrics that are embraced by so many (which is sort of peculiar) But Dee Dee's delivery on some lines is wonderful, and somehow manages to stay as seductive as she's sounded on everything else she's ever sung on! Genuine sex appeal on a Smiths track is something to be proud of. The line that springs immediately to mind is "to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die" (which is just a phenomenal lyric) The whole thing is urgent and frenzied, a buzzing and anthemic bundle of distorted guitars and thumping drums. Obviously it's not better than the original, I would never make such a heinous claim. But it's pretty darn good!

I'm looking forward to the forthcoming EP, and hoping that Dum Dum Girls end up as more than a flash in the pan badn from 2010. Click here to go and listen to the track over at Quarterwhipped.

Tuesday, 8 February 2011

6 Reasons Why I Love My Record Player



My 18th birthday present from my brother was a record player. I didn't actually get to use it until late November, my birthday being mid-October, due to some delivery issues and a broken needle. When the day finally came, I was overjoyed as I'd wanted one for quite a while, for a few reasons. My dad has heaps of old vinyl which were lying untapped in his office cupboard. Also, I was constantly hearing that the sound quality of vinyl is superior and wanted to really check it out for myself. I'd long been of the opinion that buying something physical when it comes to buying music is so much more important and wonderful than downloading, so getting a record player was a logical conclusion of that. Also, lots of singles and special releases by bands only come out on vinyl so I wanted in on where the action is.

So after a few months perusing old records and acquiring new ones, I sitting back and listening to my dad's old copy of Neil Young's Harvest - the case of which is just one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen - I started thinking about what had grown on me about the wonderful machine in the months I'd owned and used it. Here are the six reasons I came up with as to why I now love my record player:

1. I Stop Flicking Through iTunes
Now I'm someone who does purposefully listen to whole albums in one sitting and who's very against the consumerist attitude towards music in today's mainstream, where people's listening habits are conditioned to listen to lone hit tracks, not whole albums or bodies of work. But even I end up flicking aimlessly through iTunes or the internet sometimes, bouncing from track to track without really taking anything in, finding something new I want to listen to before I even finishing what I'm currently listening to, especially when I'm searching for loads of new music. Having a record player kind of frees me of that. I put something on and that's it, it's spinning and playing on the other side of the room and I leave it going, spinning onwards. It's a really liberating feeling when I've been used to trotting through iTunes for most of my musical life. And as a result...

2. I Get More Done!
A less artistic and conceptual note but it's true, I'm more productive when listening to a record on a record player. It's on the other side of the room, playing away. Not at my finger tips, beckoning me to fiddle and shuffle every three and a half minutes. This kind of belies the argument that people don't want to listen to vinyl any more because it's too inconvenient to put on and turn over half way through. What do you reckon is more time consuming - scrolling through iTunes for the duration of each song in order to find what you next want to listen to, or getting up once for about 20 second every 20 minutes to flip a record over?

3. The Sound Quality IS Better!
It really is, and I'm so glad this argument proved true once I started listening to vinyl. Everything is noticeably clearer and sharper, especially if I have the tracks on iTunes or CD as well and compare them. The constituent parts, individual instruments etc. become a lot clearer and more obvious (even if my record player's built in speaker does lack a lot of bass) yet the tracks seems stronger and more vivid as a whole for it. It's wonderful. I bought a 7" reissue of The Smiths' "The Boy With The Thorn In His Side" from the sublime Banquet Records in Kingston, slapped it on when I got home and the the sound that came out just blew me off my feet! It's a song I've listened to umpteen times, and also a song which I've always loved for the sound and production; but on vinyl it was just made even more brilliant. So much richer and more vibrant, more alive and brimming with SOMETHING which I just can't put my finger on. And the romantic crackle of old vinyl is something that just melts my heart so often. It's interesting to think that loving that crackling sound is something which people for whom vinyl was/is the primary/sole means of listening to music don't really experience because it's totally normal to them. But for me it's something nostalgic and romantic which logically I guess shouldn't colour how I treat the music. But it does, and I'm glad.

4. I Think About The Structure of The Records More
I'm a huge lover of slapping on an album and listening to it the whole way through as one piece of work, but it's sometimes a lot more difficult to do that when I've got iTunes in front of me or the CD case, and I'm glancing at how long each track is, what the name of each one is, when the singles you like are coming up etc. And it's easy to just pause it, toddle off to do something and then come back and pick up where you left off. But when I listen to an album on vinyl, there's none of that. It all flows seamlessly, and it feels so much more adventurous. It's another thing that makes it quite liberating to own and use. You get more lost in the whole thing, you don't always know exactly what track it is or what it's called, which makes you even more keen to listen. I experienced this when I got a vinyl copy of The National's 2002 album Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers and I just loved fading into a whole new set of songs that I had no idea about, unaware of what was what and where was where. This album also highlighted the significance that the final track on the first side of an LP can have. The first side ends with the song "Murder Me Raechel", one of the most thunderous and heavy moments on a record that veers from the most tentative, fragile moments imaginable to heartwrenching screams and guitar thumps. When it finishes and there's silence halfway through the album before you turn it over, I was just left blown away by that song and how it marked a sort of peak in the album; and it contrasts wonderfully with the much gentler track which follows.

5. I Get to Go Into Record Shops!
Proper independent record stores are so much better than entertainment franchises like HMV. I'm not going to hate on HMV because there's plenty good to be said for it, but when it comes to buying independent music, independent stores are (surprisingly) the best place to go; specifically for vinyl in this case, seeing as pretty much nowhere else sells vinyl any more. It cwas quite daunting when I first started frequenting record stores as you get the feeling that these beardy music fan boys behind the desk are looking down on you and judging you for every record you linger on, but once I got over that I discovered that most record store staff are actually reall, really nice guys who are genuinely glad to see you in their store; not because you're spending money, but because you're buying new music! I've had some great chats with record store workers and most of them really know their stuff - who's who, what's where. And then you find out about gigs, in store performances and other cool stuff like that. I've already mentioned the wonderful Banquet Records in Kingston, and they have the wonderful habit of putting rather cheery and personal notes into anything you order from them. You don't get that from the fat girl in HMV.

6. It's A Conversation Starter.
As you can imagine, very few people my age (18) have record players nowadays, and I'm certainly the only one of the vast majority of friendship groups who uses one. So raising the topic and talking about the benefits of it, and subsequently talking generally about music, is something I really enjoy. I especially enjoy the fact that it's given me a lot to talk about with my parents, my dad especially, as well as my brother. As soon as I got my record player I raided my dad's huge stacks of vinyl and picked out stuff in their that I liked the look of, already knew about or that he recommended. It was so interesting listening to him talk about when and where he bought stuff, why he bought it, what he remembers about it, things like that. I hope I'm like that with my kids one day!

I understand that buying a record player sadly won't be for everyone. But if you're really into music and love it lots then I thoroughly recommend it. It's been great just over the last few months and I hope I have many years of record spinning to come!