There’s been a lot of talk about Scott Creney’s review of the Haim album. So in the interests of fair play, here’s an alternative review.
Haim’s pleasure, limited as even its enthusiasts admit, is the empty pleasure of an endless series of twinkies eaten over the course of 45 minutes. Fine enough in the beginning, but eventually destined to sicken.
People are re-evaluating Nirvana again, it being the 20th anniversary of the Olympia WA group’s third and final album In Utero. Here’s my contribution.
Music to bury your parents to. Music to shake yourself to sleep to. Music to make a traffic jam seem poetic. Music to make you a better person. Music to make you the worst person you’ve ever been. Music to stalk children to. Music to save the world to.
I say fuck youth when it’s this old, fuck fans if they’re this fucking stupid, and fuck happiness if it means the smug assurance that the middling will triumph whilst the revolutionary and revelatory will be impoverished & obliterated
The London dreamers have borrowed their favourite parts from music’s past to create a headrush of love and mysticism
Edgy, like pulling the wings off butterflies.
It seems this experience has totally renewed my enjoyment of all that other Flaming Lips stuff that I play in the daytime
A review of ‘Arc’ by Everything Everything that absolutely takes issue with everything the NME and the Tories stand for
The words come tumbling out of Jonathan Higgs’ mouth like so many bright bees, clouds and clouds of them buzzing about, so numerous and sharp such that their ingenuity, volume and ambition remind me of Joanna Newsom’s meticulous verses. He conjures up drone strikes, billionaires, footballers’ wives, broken war-heroes, landmines, volcanoes, rioters, pterodactyls, post-apocalyptic landscapes, revelatory visions. Not a waistcoat in sight.