iPanicked

It's happened to me before. But those times I've expected it. I've prepared myself, in the quietness of my own heart and in the scope of the rest of life and the universe, for the heart wrenching, life changing inevitability. I had watched on helplessly, but confident and ready in the fact that, when it came to the bottom line, I could ultimately do nothing. But this time. This time it was so unexpected. So sudden. You just don't expect it to happen to you, do you?

My iPod died.

Mid-morning yesterday, the ol' girl just up and died. I've been through a few iPods in my time, but I've watched those gradually deteriorate over time, and reach their last legs with enough notice for me to go and purchase a replacement. But yesterday, my perfectly functional companion just conked out. Blank screen. No response. All communication with the mothership was lost. We were adrift in deep space.

I tried it all. Charging, plugging, tapping, hitting. At one point I got out one of my old discarded ones and had a dummy run on cracking it open, having Googled various DIY methods (I was left with a small pile of screwdrivers, kitchen knives, guitar picks and pieces of 1"x3" card. Don't ask about the last bit)

Finally, miraculously, the poor thing connected to my iTunes and I was able to restore all the settings and reload my music (HINT: 12,600 odd songs take a while) She's now back on her feet, pottering around in my pocket safely.

But yesterday, for about 12 hours, I will confess I was in total panic and disarray. I felt angry, sad, frustrated, cheated, disappointed, all in equal measure. The outlook was so bleak. I have no money to buy a replacement; the insurance and warranty have both run out. I've got a trip to America next week and my head has long been filled with visions of plugging in whilst coaching it across the Nevada desert with The Doors pounding my ear drums. But when that looked as if it were not to be, I was panic stricken.

I was thinking "what will I do when I'm working at school? What will I do when I'm walking places? I won't be able to listen to whatever I want in the car!"

But when the dust had settled, I began to think something else. I reflected on the situation and the large amount of wasted hours and energy and thought - "why? Why did the potential loss of my iPod for a prolonged but probably temporary period send me into such a flap?"

I'm generally becoming more and more short tempered and cynical towards the way we're enslaved to modern technology and the internet. More and more often I find myself begrudging how much of my time Facebook wastes and how I want the whole bloody thing to implode and I'm increasingly considering saying goodbye to the whole charade. I've become enamoured with vinyl and the physical value of music, turning scorn upon how the pick'n'mix culture of mp3 downloads devalues your relationship with music.

I like to think I'm quite astute and informed when it comes to being aware of the influence the modern world has on my life. But when my iPod died, I flew into an absurdly disproportionate panic. It truly unsettled me. I had no idea what kind of hold that little, nifty block of technology had on me. As a music lover, listening to music is a key part of my day to day life. I never go more than a few hours without listening to music and, if I'm out, it's obviously on my iPod.

But is loving my music an excuse for the flap I went into? My conclusion is no, not really.

I mean, what's wrong with a bit of silence? A bit of thinking time? I have noticed that when I constantly flood my ears with music, the whole practice can just get a little stale sometimes. I need a bit of to recuperate. Think about the rest of the world, the rest of life. If I'm always plugged in between doing other things, where does the time for thought go? Obviously listening to music inspires me to a lot of thoughts in a lot of ways, but sometimes it just becomes a bit crowded in my head. I've got to rest my mind. Think about life, read my Bible. As they say, silence is golden.

Even though I try to be considered in my approach to how I let modern things encroach upon my life, that doesn't mean that when I do end up under technology's thumb it's any less crass or unthinking than someone who nonchalantly surrenders their whole existence to time wasting on the internet.

For such a trivial and painfully middle class occurrence, my little iPod freak-out yesterday had a pretty big impact on me. I guess, now, none of us are ever really going to be totally free of technology. No, I'm not a Luddite or a technophobe, and I have grown up in the world parallel to the growth of the internet, but I hate the feeling of being at the mercy of a screen. I spent a vast amount of my early teens in the place and hate that fact now. So maybe I'll have a thorough rethink of how quickly I untangle my headphones every day. Come ask me in a little while.

The Flaming Lips and Neon Indian - "Is David Bowie Dying?"

You might remember a couple of months ago I wrote a post about The Flaming Lips and their plans for recording and releasing lone tracks throughout the course of this year. One of the biggest causes for excitement when the announced this was their intention to work with electro/chillwave producer Neon Indian.

After a couple of months of waiting in tacit excitement, the collaboration has finally arrived. It's as psychadelic and peculiarly titled as you'd expect.

The track is entitled "Is David Bowie Dying?" and, whilst it doesn't quite explore the subject matter suggested in its title, it's as bizzarre and sprawling as such a question might suggest. The track's one big freaked-out sprawl of occasional, massive guitar chimes, shifting drums and Wayne Coyne's beardy croonings over the top. More and more layers join in as time goes on; a backing choir arrives, static scrawls flare up like screaming animals. It all gets rather freakily noisy, and I quite like it.

I said in the post I wrote back in January that collaborations like this can keep artists on their toes and stimulate creativity. Sounds like that's what's been going on to me, both bands clubbing together to create some more cracking psychadelia. It's not world changing, but hey, it's weird and the sun's out where I am. Boom.

Click here to head to the page where the track is available to listen to.

Elbow - "Build a Rocket Boys!" - Album Review

The weight of expectation weighed heavy on Elbow’s shoulders for this album. They stole the nation's hearts in 2008 with The Seldom Seen Kid marrying critical and commercial success in a way which even the most cynical couldn’t sneer at. I discovered them through that album and investigated their previous three. Each one is phenomenally gorgeous. The Seldom Seen Kid was subtly different in a lot of ways from previous efforts. It opened up a more organic sound from the band, forgoing the delicate electronic blips and guitar whirls of previous albums.

So where could the band go? They'd fulfilled the underdog dream, what now? What could they sing about? Frontman and lyricist Guy Garvey himself stated "...when heartbreaking melancholia is your currency, success and contentment can be a problem". There were plenty fearing that the band would stray into Coldplay/U2 territory. What they've actually done is made their most intimate and nuanced record to date.

The album opens with "The Birds" - a shifting, whirling 8 minuter which belies any fears about commercialisation. The instrumentation of the track signals a trend which runs throughout the album, which is that the Elbow boys are further nurturing their prog-rock/post-rock tendencies. This has been a key part of their sound for years, originating from a love of Genesis, Talk Talk, Pink Floyd and Radiohead. When you post reviews as a normal listener rather than a professional critic, you have time to read plenty of other reviews before your own goes up. Lots I've read have commented on how most of the band seem to take more of a step back in favour of Garvey’s vocals. I think that's a criminal misreading - the rest of the band are at their most spry and involved, nursing their creative post-rock tendencies throughout. Being subtle doesn’t mean they’re not involved.

The opener is followed by "Lippy Kids" - the first track unveiled on Boxing Day. It's stunning and draws us right into the lyrical theme of the album - reflecting on your youth. Garvey looks on affectionately at a bunch of hoodies hanging round on a corner, nostalgic for his own days there. Some of his best lyrics to date drift effortlessly out of his mouth as he croons "the cigarette senate was everything then" and grins over how he "never perfected that simian stroll".

This is followed by the euphoric orchestral pop of "With Love". Built on handclaps, rows of backing vocals and an almost cheeky bounces and stabs from the bass and piano, this is an album track that stands up as strong as anything else here. Placing Garvey against the backing vocals highlights the aura that he's always given off that makes you feel as if you'd follow him into the darkest depths of Salford and back - and you would when he can sing about dentures and make it sound so glorious.

"Neat Little Rows" is the anthemic, stomping lead single - this album's "Grounds For Divorce". It's followed swiftly by the album's glorious centrepiece "Jesus is a Rochdale Girl". This is one of Elbow's rare truly acoustic moments, and Garvey definitely takes centre stage on this one. Listing fragmented images and memories from his early twenties, it bowls you over how he can put equal gravitas on the words "forty five CDs" as he does "nothing to be proud of and nothing to regret". The glistening cherry on the cake is the expertly placed, slightly off kilter keyboard stabs of Craig Potter.

Just when you thought the band might be slipping into lullabies, "The Night Will Always Win" gives way to the jazzy swagger of "High Ideals". They've got a surprising penchant for jazzy swagger do Elbow. Comes with the Mancunian territory I guess. They one-up many of their un-evolved, knuckle dragging Mancunian contemporaries (naming no names) however with the beautiful horn section and atonally inspired guitar chimes that lace this track. Elbow have displayed time and time again their ability to perfectly articulate male emotion without sounding crass or forced. The Seldom Seen Kid was a tribute to the band's friend Bryan Glancy, who died suddenly in 2008. Moments on that album capture male friendship in a way that I honestly wouldn't have thought was possible. The band continue to paint a nuanced, trembling picture of male emotion on this record as they look back on their pasts.

Not to suggest that they haven't got more heart bursting anthems up their sleeve. "Open Arms" is glorious and colossal without ever sounding overblown and hollow. The twinkles of piano, mandolin and strings all swell up around Garvey as he belts "WE'VE GOT OPEN ARMS FOR BROKEN HEARTS, LIKE YOURS MY BOY, COME HOME AGAIN!" It's the kind of thing that makes you want to run back home to all those faces from your past and tell them how much you love them. The bass thuds in the bridge will hit you in the pit of your stomach like a mallet, inducing that trembling, overwhelming joy and love of home that shakes makes you feel worryingly small in the big, grown-up world.

After an eerie reprise of "The Birds", the album bids au revoir with the ballad "Dear Friends". Garvey's lyrics are at colloquially elegant best - "Dear friends, you are angels and trumps, you are magi". It plays the album out like the final, drunken, heartfelt goodbyes at a wedding. When you're overwhelmed with sadness and joy in equal, teary eyed measure. All the faces you've known and loved and built your life on surround you and you can't even articulate the swelling in your chest. Knowing you've just experienced something indescribably beautiful. A landmark. Maybe not for the universe or the rest of the world. But for you. Your world. Your heart.

Rebecca Black - "Friday". Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

If by now you haven't listened to and watched the video for the song "Friday" by 13 year old American singer Rebecca Black then you, my friend, are what we call "out of the loop". Part of me wishes to apologise for what you are about to experience, but it's necessary:



This video went viral last (haha) Friday, March 11th. It's been a while since something that wasn't either purposefully hilarious or Lady GaGa related went full blown viral; and in less than a week it's gained close to 13 million views on YouTube. Why?

Everyone can tell you - it's bloody awful. It has received a universal bludgeoning. Within a week, the song has become the internet's favourite whipping boy (or girl...). I have literally yet to meet a single person who hasn't described it as the worst song they have ever heard. It has been verbally raped. Everywhere.

Now, I don't just want to spend a whole post ranting about the obviously crap things - that devilishly inane chorus, the single stupidest lyric ever in the bridge, the autotune poured on as thick as concrete on Chernobyl. Despite it being a vacuous modern pop husk and the fact that the world's greatest hope is to simply ignore it and hope it goes away, the song and video reveal some tragic truths about how pop music works today.

One of the biggest problems with pop music over the last couple of years is the way that it presents kids at a really immature age (about 12 to 15) with all these ideas about "partying" and being "in the club". I've lost count of the amount of times I've seen 14 year olds dolled up like Bratz dolls on smack, singing and gyrating along to Flo Rida like a bunch of orange, ugg boot wearing marionettes. Now I'm nowhere near saying that Rebecca Black's godless refrain of "partyin', partyin', YEAH!" has propelled a generation of youngsters into a sordid pit of moral abandon, but when someone somewhere thought it was a legitimate idea to have a 13 year old sing that, it proves that, in some way, things have reached rock bottom.

Kids that age have never been in a club! They haven't even been to parties that aren't supervised by mothers voraciously handing out overwhelming amounts of Wotsits and those little biscuits shaped like fish. And yet in this video, you've got a 13 year old and her friends DRIVING A FRIGGING CONVERTIBLE. Then she turns up at some party where all her pre-teen friends are dressed up like slags (with braces) and there are massive, shiny 4x4s parked outside, seemingly being supervised by a bunch of pre-pubescent little waifs whose balls have very low prospects for dropping in the near future. I mean, watch the video and look at the guy she talks to at 1:43-44. Really?

A whole movement of pop songs over the last several years have accelerated the unhealthy preoccupation that kids have with behaving like adults nowadays. They're presented with an adult world and told "this is what you guys should want". They don't know how to deal with it. They're nowhere near ready! They have no idea who they are, and yet they're suddenly surrounded by this inescapable philosophy of waht you should act like, dress like and talk like. Those songs have always been sung by older artists, they just end up marketed at kids and young teenagers. This however is something different. This is actually a kid releasing the track. I hope that the sensory perceptions of even the most repugnant 13 year old can work out that this song is bloody awful, and so this won't inspire kids to think that their fantasies of spending the whole weekend (including Friday) partying are any more attainable. But someone, somewhere thought that it would. Record label bosses somewhere think that the market for pushing adult material (and it doesn't have to be porn to be classed as adult material) onto kids is at a point where it can be exploited at the next level. This may very well not be the last we hear of Rebecca Black. And if the internet achieves the (clearly laudible) feat of destroying the career of a doe-eyed 13 year old girl, there will soon be another on to take her place.

I'm sure plenty of you are going to say "dude, you're reading way too much into this". Maybe. I'm also sure plenty of people are going to say "well, why should I care? Just get on with life!" Maybe. This song's already gone viral and has also already broken the iTunes Top 100. Any popularity it gains however, I think will be purely for ironic amusement. Something of a reverse "Rage Against the X Factor". It's not going to have a sincere cultural impact. But the fact that someone, somewhere thought this was a good idea, that creating a younger, female Justin Bieber (she's been called that as an insult and a compliment) was an appropriate business move, has me worried. And not just because it's sodding awful.

And what's the deal with the middle aged guy rapping, checking his watch and driving along? He's not even with the kids at the party. What the hell is he doing? Going to pick them up I imagine. What a douche.

Alex Turner - "Piledriver Waltz". Hope Restored!

In my last post I was pondering whether there's cause for concern about the musical future of Arctic Monkeys after the release of their worst track to date. I've been nursing knots in my stomach ever since, and - being part of the generation whose introduction to indie music rests almost solely on the band - the fear of them disappearing up their arse hasn't been far from my mind since.

However, over the weekend I was gifted with a tasty - if small - morsel of hope which I have since been nibbling affectionately.

It was announced some months ago that Arctic Monkeys frontman Alex Turner would be making his first foray into a solo career by providing five songs for the soundtrack for British comedy film Submarine, directed by Richard Ayoade (best known to us as Moss from The IT Crowd)

Ayoade and Turner have come together several times before, Ayoade having directed the music videos for "Flourescent Adolescent", "Crying Lightning" and "Cornerstone" (the former is just one of the best music videos in the last few years)as well as the videos for "My Mistakes Were Made For You" and "Standing Next To Me" from Turner's side project The Last Shadow Puppets. For someone who plays such a supremely inept geek like Moss in The IT Crowed, Ayoade has a formidable indie rep - he's directed for Vampire Weekend, Kasabian, and Yeah Yeah Yeahs too. Never underestimate the geeks folks.

But back on track, over the weekend I came across one of the trailers for Submarine , soundtracked by the song "Piledriver Waltz". Have a cheeky listen why don't you:



I can't tell you how much I loved hearing that track. It's drawn me right back from the brink of my doubts for the new Arctic Monkeys album. Obviously it's not an Arctics track, and as The Last Shadow Puppets showed, Turner can deviate pretty strongly from "traditional" Arctics fair when he wants to. However, it proves that Turner's still got it. He's got it in spades. The song just oozes that indefinably sensual nature in his songwriting which has been growing cheekily since Favourite Worst Nightmare and really flowered on Humbug. The drawl, the croon, the delivery. Gorgeous. It send shivers up my spine. And I'm a bloke.

The song itself, disregading for a moment any Arctic Monkeys related speculation, is gorgeous. Once again, very Scott Walker/Burt Bacharach like in the vein of The Last Shadow Puppets, but quite similar to "Cornerstone" from Humbug. The lyrics are, as we'd expect from Turner, sublime. A lot of people have found his ability to write ballads like this something of an anomaly, but he's been cracking them out since day one. Their early EP Who The Fuck Are Arctic Monkeys? contained the two beautiful ballads "Despair in the Departure Lounge" and "No Buses", tracks which were knocking around back when Andy Nicholson was still playing bass. And since then we've had the gorgeous "Only Ones Who Know" - one of Turner's best ever songs as far as I'm concerned - as well as brilliant B-side "The Bakery" and a few others.

I can safely say that the new Arctic Monkeys album won't sound like this track, but that's not the point. This track has reassured me beyond any doubt that Turner still has a firm hold on his songwriting and lyrical abilities - something which "Brick by Brick" knocked my confidence in. This isn't necessarily a universal indicator that the new album will be brilliant. But there's hope.

I'll definitely be getting a hold of the rest of Submarine's soundtrack. Might even give the film itself a whirl.

Arctic Monkeys: Cause for Concern?

It's been pretty much non-stop excitement for Arctic Monkeys since 2005. They become one of the first bands to truly make their name on the internet. They sell out the London Astoria before they even release their debut album. Their first single, "I Bet You Look Good on The Dancefloor" goes straight in at #1 and showed that indie music in the UK was alive and kicking. Their debut Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not become the fastest selling UK debut in history and gets a 10/10 review in the NME. Instantly, they were the biggest and best band in Britain.

Second time round, their album Favourite Worst Nightmare received almost unanimous critical acclaim, even though most people were saying it wasn't as strong as the debut (something I flagrantly disagree with, and struggle to understand in a lot of ways) Then they headline Glastonbury. On their second album.

The mood changed on their third album Humbug however. It was an even stronger departure, a lot of folks said, than Favourite Worst Nightmare. Alex Turner revealed that during the recording process they'd been listening to Hendrix and Cream, and were decmaping to the Mojave Desert to record with Josh Homme. There was a palpable change in the wind in the British music press - the NME especially. It was full of spiteful accusations of the band disappearing up their own arse. "Fans" all over the place were infuriated that the band had "betrayed" their original sound and aesthetic. I was livid at that. Anyone who had listened with any thing approaching an attention span to Favourite Worst Nightmare would have seem Humbug coming a long way of - a stunningly natural progression of the band's sound, which also saw some of Alex Turner's deftest and most eloquent lyrical turns. Matt Helders' highly publicised bromance with P Diddy may have put a few off but hey, let's keep our eyes on the prize here.

So I have utterly adored everything Arctic Monkeys have ever turned their spry little northern hands to. If you'd asked me a few weeks ago, I would have said the band had never written a bad song. They're one of those bands, as far as I'm concerned, where even the B-Sides are of unspeakably good quality.

Then... this happened:



Now, on numerous levels - by the band's own standards and as a song on it's own - that is crap. Genuinely crap. It's not the worst song ever - it's not Justin Bieber or Cliff Richard. But by the standards of one of the most adept, eloquent and able bands of my generation, chanting "I WANNA ROCK AND ROLL" over mediocre thumping just does NOT cut it.

I have no issue whatsoever with the band further maturing and adapting their sound; I've never been someone who refuses to move on from the first album. As far as I'm concerned, the band have gotten better with each album. Also, I have no problem with them being influenced by classic rock acts like Hendrix, Cream and The Doors. Sure, there's plenty of bands around who influenced by those bands and suck like a malnourished calf at it's mother's glorious teet, but there's also been an unhealthy aversion to being openly influenced by those kind of bands in modern indie music.

However - "Brick by Brick" sounds brainless and crass. It sounds like something off the new Beady Eye album. It sounds lazy. It's Matt Helders singing the verses, not Alex Turner, but when a band containing one of the generation's greatest lyricists releases a song containing a refrain of "I WANNA ROCK AND ROLL!", I'm not having it. It's not a carefree, youthful expression of energy and abandonment. It's crass, pure and simple. The chorus is catchy and a tad lush, I'll give them that, but beyond that it's formulaic and makes you think that there may be such a thing as too much Queens of the Stone Age. At the end of the day, they're still a bunch of skinny white northern lads from Sheffield, not drug addled lone rangers traipsing through the American West, re-enacting Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas with LSD naturally running in their blood (a lesson someone should probably taught Kasabian a couple of years back) If they delve into the kind of territory I'm worried they might, I quite simply don't think I'll be able to take them seriously.

But let's remember of course, this is just one song. A song that isn't even going to be a single. And a song that's not even led by the band's lead singer (and may bot have even been predominantly written by him). I desperately, desperately hope that it's not indicative of the overall nature of the album. I have a strong suspicion that the band are on unfathomable cart loads of drugs, which could result in a terrifying lack of quality control or a psychadelic masterpiece. I have a deep rooted faith in Arctic Monkeys, and I hope that this track is just a forgettable album track (even though, in my mind, they've never written one of those before) I've loved watching the band's progression, and even if this album is crap, I hope it won't herald the end of them, but that it will become a mediocre building block in the legacy they should end up leaving behind that makes me appreciate the other blocks all the more. Or maybe it will be awesome. Again.

Scattered Black and Whites #2 - "Panic" by The Smiths

I've been through a fairly long and protracted process in my relationship with The Smiths. I knew my dad listened to them, and he's generally pretty solid for someone who has purposefully made a note of buying each Snow Patrol album. Then when I started reading the NME, I would see their name mentioned in reverence, which had a pretty strong impression on my malleable 15 year old mind which was striving pathetically to work out what was worth listening to and what wasn't.

Then I became aware of passing references to Morrissey. As a massive twat.

Then I started seeing references to The Smiths as a bunch of pretentious, miserable, flower waving fops.

So I was in two minds before I even got round to listening to them. And when I did listen to them (finally) I fell straight into the "well what a bunch of gloomy gits" camp. Any time I saw Morrissey pop up in the musical press, I felt like slapping him.

I remained this way for some time. A couple of years in fact. Then I started listening again. I thought "there HAS to be more to them. They can't be hailed as the most influential indie group of all time and be as crap as I think they are".

So I did. I listened. My ears and my brain were doing some intense wrestling. And finally, there was a breakthrough. I don't know exactly why, or why it happened when it did, but it did.

Listening to "Panic", the chorus lyrics just smashed right into my brain.

"Burn down the disco
Hang the blessed DJ
Because the music that they constantly play
IT SAYS NOTHING TO ME ABOUT MY LIFE
Hang the blessed DJ
Because the music they constantly play"

I can fully understand why those lyrics, to the uninitiated, look a bit self pitying and drastic. But for me, they are hilariously true! Listening to this I just suddenly started picturing all the times I've walked past clubs or cars or listened to radios blaring out utter, UTTER crap. "Panic" articulated that in a way that I've never fully been able to without feeling like a self righteous douche. And it's the first time that I'd ever really heard anyone SING about how vacuous the popular music around them is. Plenty of artists SAY it, but SINGING about it struck a chord in me. I get a bit sick of people who listen to good music but are quite happy to sit back and let other people be lulled into listening to vacuous, shallow and extortionate musical spam and not say anything about it; about the people listening or the talentless and self interested cons making and producing the stuff. That final chorus is just, in my mind, irresistible. "HAND THE DJ, HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ! HANG THE DJ, HANG THE DJ, HAND THE DJ - HANG THE DJ!"

Most importantly though, aside from being a great song for me on its own terms, it opened a big ol' floodgate of appreciation. It started me off on a turnaround which turned into a love affair. I fell in love with The Smiths and it's been increasing exponentially over the months since.



I can appreciate that not everyone's going to get The Smiths. There are lots of things people say about them that I can argue against but I can understand that for some people they still don't click. And however erudite, insightful and wry Morrissey was in the 80s, he's one of the biggest twats on the face of the earth now. But let's not talk about that.

Elbow - "Jesus is a Rochdale Girl" and "Neat Little Rows"

I won't try to up my indie cred by pretending that I had heard of Elbow before they released The Seldom Keen Kid in 2008. I was a little too young to have done so but, like so many people, I feel in love with them. I went off ASAP and bought all of their albums and they are now, inarguably, one of my favourite bands.

Their forthcoming album Build a Rocket Boys! is one of the albums I'm most excited about for this year, and I've written a couple of posts over the past few months about the few things that they've revealed.

Well here, first of all is a live performance of their new song "Jesus is a Rochdale Girl" - apparently a highlight from the album, from the reviews I've read. It's as beautifully Elbow like as ever. The lyrics and vocals sound wise and sentimental, the rhythms soft and restrained, the broken piano parts punctuating gently every now and then with breath taking precision. Here it is:



Also, here's their lead single, "Neat Little Rows". It's Elbow at their anthemic best - thumping bass, a piano riff with the size and power of a whale riding a double decker bus through your bedroom wall and Guy Garvey belting it out as if his life depends on it. He has a stunning knack for combining his own words and common, every day turns of phrase - "neat little rows". The album's all about nostalgia for their youth and life at home, inspired by moving back into the parts of Manchester they grew up in. It bowls me over and make me grin to hear Guy asking for his bones to get laid down their "in cobblestones" or "in neat little rows", just like the houses back where he lives. One of the greatest living lyricists, without a doubt.



Also, click here to watch their appearance on this week's edition of The Culture Show. It runs from around the 18 minute mark to 24 minutes. Enjoy!

Top Records - January/February 2011

Goodness gracious I can't believe it's March already. It's been an eventful couple of months. Exams, blogging, gigs, the whole of North Africa deciding it's time for a new world order. It's all been going on. But I thought I'd take this opportunity, now that a sixth (A SIXTH! That's like 16.5%!) of the year has passed, to share with you the 5 main records from this year that have been dominating my listening habits. There's plenty of tracks I've been listening to as well, and albums that I have yet to buy, but here's what I've had my hands on especially:

The King is Dead by The Decemberists


I'd never really listened to The Decemberists a great deal before this year, but I got my hands on this album through my involvement with the awesome music blog Tympanogram. This is such a lovely record. It bagged a surprise #1 spot over in America and, whilst that might partly be because it was available pretty cheap on Amazon, it is a record that you can fall in love with. It's lush, sweet, heartfelt and with a disarming charm, and sounds like a cross between REM and early Neil Young. I think that disarming charm is key and it's what keeps me listening even when I know parts of the album sound embarassingly countryfied or like a Randy Newman offcut for Pixar. Colin Meloy's voice is just so lovely and uncomplicated, and he's a pretty deft lyricist on this album - humble, honest, insightful. And he comes across as a genuinely nice guy (and not in a pathetic, "would you like some of my cous-cous", Chris Martin style way). Favourite tracks on the album have to be the fantastic stomping opener "Don't Carry It All", the beautiful acoustic ballad "January Hymn" and the anthemic penultimate track "This Is Why We Fight", which uses that good ol' reliable chord sequence.

Yuck by Yuck

I've been quite excited about Yuck and their debut for a while. With music press hype as well as brilliant material thus far, this album was set to be a big listen. And after living with it for a good few days, it hasn't disappointed. They've been the subject of endless comparisons to 90s grunge acts like Nirvana, Dinosaur Jr and even Sonic Youth - which hasn't been entirely misplaced. However, the album is a lot mellower than you might have expected. It's not a return to the stripped down nature of their gorgeous Daughter EP, but tracks like "Shook Down", "Suicide Policeman" and "Stutter" are warm, engrossing, wonky indie rock ballads in the vein of some of Pixies softer moments. Even the discordant fuzz of closer (and fan favourite) "Rubber" is something you can just blissfully lack down into. They still deliver a hell of a punch on the heavier tracks though - "Get Away" and album highlight "Georgia", I'm looking at you. Lyrically, it's honest, youthful teenage stuff which, despite the endless grunge comparisons, often comes off as hazily romantic. This album is full of texture, heart and - most importantly - fantastic songs. My favourites are "Georgia", "Get Away" and "Shook Down".

Hunger by Frankie & The Heartstrings


Well what can I say about Frankie & The Heartstrings. They are one of the most criminally happy bands in the world. Frankie Francis is one of the most outrageously camp frontmen around. I saw them live last week and they had more playful energy than any band I've seen in a good, good while. "Gingerbread men on crack" was the comparison I used that evening, I believe. And all of that has translated into an album that full of shamelessly joyful, hyperactive indie pop gems. "Hunger", "Photograph, "Possibilites", "Tender" (heck most of the album) are all irresistibly bouncy and jangly. I keep feeling as if I should find Frankie Francis' colourful and flamboyant vocals vulgar, but I just fall more in love with them every time. It's just so fun! And when things slow down and we get serious, such as the massive six minute ballad "Fragile" in the middle of the album, it's just as easy to listen to. Every song is full of killer hooks and melodies, making an album that you just can't help but shamelessly enjoy. Favourite tracks have got to be "Tender", "Photograph" and "Don't Look Surprised".

The Kings of Limbs by Radiohead

I wrote a review of Radiohead's latest album, as well as some thoughts on the way they released it, so you can see a lot of my thoughts there. I just want to say that, when I stop thinking about the experimental nature of the album, to context of it within the rest of Radiohead's work, what it means for their future and all that malarkey, I realise that I find this album so immensely enjoyable to listen to now. It's not exactly one of those "difficult" or "challenging" albums, but, as I've said, it's not as easy to fall in love with as an album like In Rainbows. But after numerous listens, I am totally in love with it. It's beautiful, nearly every twist and turn is enchanting, and I get a real sense of how the band were clearly inspired by nature in the creation of the album. Also, the strength of each song has struck me more and more with every listen. The album doesn't use conventional song structures, but that doesn't mean the tracks aren't killer examples of song writing, especially in the latter half of the album. This is now an album which I can just drift away into and feel safe and peaceful. Favourite tracks are undoubtedly "Codex", "Give Up The Ghost" and "Separator".

Kiss Each Other Clean by Iron & Wine

Iron & Wine is, again, one of those artists whom I hadn't listened to a great deal before, but whose most recent release I got into through my association with Tympanogram. Everything I had heard from him I'd loved, and I've since gone and investigated it a bit more, so know that this album is quite different from his earlier, more "classic" material - something a lot of fans have taken issue with. But I love this album. It's got so much going for it. The instrumentation and arrangements are fantastic, even if there are moments where things seem a tad cluttered and end up sounding like free jazz. The songs underneath are killer, and Sam Beam's lyrics and vocal delivery are beautiful and nuanced throughout the whole thing. There's a whole range of textures and emotions, from the frantic "Rabbit Will Run" to the much mellower "Half Moon". My favourite tracks have got to be "Godless Brother in Love", "Tree By The River" and "Walking Far From Home".

Honourable Mentions:
Zonoscope by Cut Copy
James Blake by James Blake

Also, some of the older stuff I've been revisiting have been:
- all of Radiohead's back catalogue
- Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers by The National
- The Queen Is Dead and Meat Is Murder by The Smiths
- hefty amounts of Los Campesinos!
- equally hefty amounts of Crystal Castles
- Frank Sinatra, as always
- All We Grow by S Carey

So there's a little update on my listening habits over the past two months, if you care at all. Should make for interesting reading one day, when I'm older, wiser and deafer. God bless folks - keep listening!