The Orielles might call Halifax (which is as middle England as you can get) their home, but their hearts sound deeply rooted in California. Replace the cobblestone hilltop roads with miles of flat asphalt running alongside the beaches and piers, replace the woolly sheep with dogs wearing sunglasses, replace the nonstop rain and overcast skies […]
Music like Pins comes dressed in layers. It’s chilly out there: chilly and unwelcoming, and we all need some form of uniform against the furnace of cold and disinterest.
It’s a most welcome cliché, this sound. An always welcome cliché round these parts.
Summer is on the horizon, and Burnt Palms are just about the most perfect band to spend it with.
Sun, fun, shorts, shades, the beach, the party never stops and the caring never starts.
Best Coast’s cover of ‘Rhiannon’ flung me into a sort of crisis the other day. When I heard it, I felt like crying. I felt really bad.
I wasn’t expecting much from the new Best Coast album, but god this is fucking awful.
The music, I like – but you have to appreciate that these people are not my people.
Authenticity, pah! It’s as bad as real music! No such thing.
Yes, I get it. It’s West Side Story re-imagined as an American Apparel ad