I’ll admit right here that I’m not the most qualified person to write this review. But then, you don’t read Collapse Board for qualified persons anyway, do you? I’ll also admit that, the third time I chugged down Sucker (for that is indeed how you consume Charli XCX – bottle held high over yr lips […]
Disclaimer: this is self-indulgent, but it has a bearing on my choices. You know the monster balloon in The Prisoner – Rover? Well just lately, there’s been an intermittent ball of sad (or anxiety or both) hovering nearby, just in my line of sight. Sometimes it’s come so close it’s jumped inside me, a tight […]
Everett True’s 100 Favourite Songs of 2013. Yes, one hundred, and every last fucking song is genius.
Maybe that’s why I’m increasingly turning to Tasmania. I know what it’s like to be ignored.
Judging Britney the same way you’d judge Dylan or Elliott Smith is like taking a baseball bat to a cricket game.
You’d have to have been found swaddled in a wicker basket in a forest clearing and bought up and reared by wankers to ever consider this anything other than time-marking bollocks of the most tedious kind. Legends.
In its obsessions with identity, fantasy v. reality, the feeling of being watched, it couldn’t be more of its time.
ke$ha aped Uffie and now Britney’s aping Ke$ha
The rhythms are hugely complex in how they build up and break down. It’s these wave-like swells and drops that dictate how your body is going to move on the dancefloor. For the brainless dancefloor filler, structure is everything.
I just wish I could sing “C’mon” like that.