Month: January 2006

I’d like to start things by first asking the question: why isn’t Stephen Duffy the most famous and the most eagerly celebrated artist in Britain right now? Even without recourse to his skewed and lyrical intellect, his astonishingly elastic wit, his impossibly tight trousers and his effortless romanticism, Duffy is a man who can whittle a golden, delicious pop tune from a lump of old timber and still have enough left for a pair of bedside cabinets and a keepsake Continue Reading

You could maybe think of stranger musical partnerships, if you tried really very hard and weren’t distracted. That weird ginger one from Girls Aloud and that chap with the inverted crucifix branded on his forehead from silly satanic rockers Deicide. There’s one, just. But this, with a serious face on, is proper beauty and the beast stuff. Nick Cave & Kylie odd at least. But like that particular example of odd, this one dispels its differences to find a tastefully Continue Reading

It’s unclear why Jenny Lewis felt the need to do this right now – the mentioned Twins are a shot of extra flavouring, for all intents and purposes this is her first solo record. Her band Rilo Kiley, after years of belting out tweaked, bittersweet alt-country, finally achieved what MTV call breakthrough last year with their sumptuous major label debut ‘More Adventurous’. They toured the world with Coldplay, Bright Eyes and alone, very much led by Jenny’s infectious, radiant waiflike Continue Reading

It’s inevitable that in a media environment cosseted by nostalgia and pastsickness Bristol’s relentlessly foppish Beat-Poets, the Blue Aeroplanes should find themselves slipping loquaciously through a wormhole into a cold, hard new century, hurdy-gurdying around with a handful of daffodils like it was only yesterday, and bursting out of the archive in a flowery, firework display of lilting folk romance and a very earnest demonstration of love. Remember that 1984 Argos Catalogue you placed a bid against on Ebay? Or Continue Reading

Why do we love Chan Marshall so? Because love her we do. Who doesn’t? Because of her beauty certainly, inside and out, and its juxtaposition with her brazen imperfections and blind cathartic strides. Her louche demeanour and sometimes arrogant way. Her unpredictability and the sense that everything hangs by a thread. The fact that she’s been known to let people down, but for you, when she’s alone in your ears, inside your head, in the corner of your darkened bedroom, Continue Reading

They’ll want their own unions next! Is it, we ask, completely out of the question to expect two representative forces at loggerheads over the introduction of guaranteed regulation encore breaks at BSS gigs, to be enforced with immediate effect lest there be strike action? With specific expectations for uncramped performance conditions left open for continued discussion. Probably? Maybe not? Either way, cheap speculation aside, the evolution of ‘the band’ over recent years has made for fascinating viewing. And right now Continue Reading

There’s usually a reason why bands seldom get signed with unsolicited demos: they’re usually crap and the reason they’re unsolicited is because nobody, not even the band themselves, can be arsed taking half an interest and going to the effort of making a call or arranging a gig on behalf of those nice, well connected A & R people who turn up late in a taxi and spend the greater part of the evening thinking up ways to exploit their Continue Reading

‘You rely on someone else to make you feel alright. As far as I’m concerned that’s no kind of life.’ If ever there was such a thing as an awkward silence following a lyric on a record then I lay claim to experiencing one of the most awkward, embarrassing, shuffling, shoegazing silences on record. For a man who has relied consecutively on the the vocal and nascent indie habits of Blur’s Damon Albarn and a whole list of other A-List Continue Reading

First impressions of ‘First Impressions…’ aren’t great. Sorry. But that’s not to say ‘First Impressions…’ actually isn’t, in the end. Just that it’s hard to accept that it might be, sometimes. Truth be told, we’ve been bickering like a battle-weary married couple for the three weeks since we met. We were friends, The Strokes and us, some time ago. We were floored by their impossibly impeccable cool, they were the Fonz of post-post-punk no less, if you didn’t like them Continue Reading