This song of the day came to me via their PR company. I usually just find my own songs without trying, but this track found its way into my inbox, and without a press person pitching this I’d probably never have heard it, and that would have been a real shame. Mandy is the band […]
I’m more familiar with this type of music than I ought to be, but that’s hardly Twerps fault. Which leaves me in somewhat of a quandary. How should I describe this, without resorting to a list of names that would bore even me? (Some way too obvious, some The Pastels, one Twelve Cubic Feet.) That doesn’t […]
They don’t describe forests, or even trees, but the feel of bark and the sound of leaves and then leave the rest for you.
Imagine Flight Of The Conchords in a long passionate embrace with a dazzling diaspora of Clean fans.
It’s like having your own personal Bats, your own personal Clean, your own personal Jesus, in your living room
I have a total soft spot for the Breeders-patented formula of sweet female vocals over crunchy guitars
We’re talking The Vivian Girls stripped of the 60s West Coast stuff and with layers of mid 80s Dunedin stuff added in its place.
If The White Stripes had been obsessed with Flying Nun instead of the blues and Led Zeppelin, it would have sounded like this. For someone like me, it’s absolute heaven.
Songs are sweet minutiae are sweet inspiration.
I doubt if there’s a single person here who undervalues The Clean’s beauty, their vivid guitar storms punctuated by trebly guitar excess and bursts of down-home, deprecating humour.