I loved the first few iterations of ‘Detroit trap pop’ that came out of Jamaican Queens surrealist minds. As soon as I heard Kids Get Away I tracked the band down for an interview. But when the album rolled out last year I ended up giving it one cursory listen, making up my mind and moving on.
But this cropped up in among my youtube subscriptions today, and it’s convinced me to give them another go from a new angle of thinking. So i’m off to take a load of drugs and listen to Wormfood again. Laters.
I’ve done it again… I start off by telling myself I’m only writing for myself, that I can write however and whatever I want. And then all too soon I’m writing as if I’m trying to inform some imaginary audience. Usually when I start writing for a new blog/website/whatever…
I don’t even care about the writing that much, I just like the cathartic feeling of writing out my own 12am thoughts on how a piece of music leaves it’s imprint.
I’m stuck with a constant natural attraction to homogeneity that, despite my general apathy, irritates my consciousness. And it’s only songs like this that help me brake the spell.
Return of the Mac! More hazy lazy rock ‘n’ roll from the dishevelled rogue we all love. The album is another month (and a bit away) so there’s this slim morsel on offer to satisfy the hunger and it’s a good ‘un.
There’s no denying that when it comes to sunshine-led garage rock there are certain names that instantly take up residence in your thinking, any band that joins the pool-party this late is going to have to get used to walking around with the likes of Best Coast, Bleached and Wavves sticking to them like chewing gum. Fortunate then, that Sherbert more than hold their own alongside the garage pop kings and queens in the kingdom of eternal summer. Acting as a vehicle for Michelle Sullivan’s creativity, each track is a brief window into hazy days filled with boys, booze and narcotics in Nashville. Set to a forever 21 vibe of fuzzed-out garage guitar and narrated by Sullivan’s charming Tennessee drawl, it’s hard not to wish you were the arsehole she was singing about.
Outside of electronic music, it can be a real struggle for new European artists to have their music heard within the UK, especially those that choose to sing in English. Excluding the obvious Icelandic exception, if you want to break out of your homeland it’s time to start brushing up on your English skills.
So after picking myself up from the floor having heard the patient sonic evolution of ‘Hex’ for the first time, I was surprised to find that Xul Zolar weren’t the young Oxford band I so readily assumed. Forgoing their native Germanic tongue for a softly spoken neutral English tone means that their labour can be loved across borders.
With very little material online, in fact, in over a year they’ve only made three tracks available digital, ‘Bedouin Man’ being the latest of these. It takes a more immediately infectious route than the slow invasion of your senses that made up their last single, but no less enveloping.
You slack off from the music game for a couple weeks and one of your favourite emerging artists goes and releases one of his greatest tracks to date. I’m not angry at myself, I’m just disappointed. You, on the other hand, can just vibe with it. Click play and groove away you lucky thing.
There’s nothing remarkable about this track; It’s not by a young and upcoming band, It’s not a new track and it’s not even their best. But for some reason that hook won’t leave me alone, whenever i’ve a spare moment of headspace ‘I’m exhausted by romance / I was lost in the languages' drifts into my consciousness and pulls me out of whatever I was doing.
Sometimes it’s astounding what a band can do with so little. Though saying that… the ill-advised organ solo does make my toes curl in pain.