July’s always been a shitty month for music. All the good mainstream stuff comes out at the beginning of the summer and all the good indie stuff waits until the college kids come back in the fall. Or maybe I just had a shitty month? I don’t know. All albums scored on the World […]
HEY SO check out Tame Impala, huh. Check out that cover. A shiny silver sphere in a white/black void. It even looks like one of those post-prog 80s albums from Genesis or Yes, the whole “we’re modern now so we’ll have minimal geometric covers, hyuck hyuck.” Gotta hand it to ‘em for doing their homework. […]
As we all know, I’m just a hack when it comes to music criticism. Not one of those professional, illustrious NME editors at all. However, I can say that I know a thing or two more about sample selection and “science” than the self-righteous blokes ($10 wager that they’re ALL blokes) who compiled this so-called […]
Yeah, I listened to that first Tame Impala record, front to back. And the entire time, I’m thinking, “OK, this is from Cream. This is from Revolver. And this one’s Derek and the Dominoes.” Ya think I remember any one of those tunes now? Ya think I ever listened to that Tame Impala LP again? […]
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.
Critics have been falling over themselves to praise their special brand of retro R&B mixed with retro MOR and it will surely only be a matter of time before teenagers find out about them too.
It’s The Darkness rolled into the JAMMS isn’t it? But slicker and more disposable (not an insult).
Dum Dum Girls had a massive year — the Coke Zero of the indie world. You know, same taste as the original formula but not as filling.
It’s the psychedelia of sitting around your friend’s teenage bedroom smoking shitty weed, listening to people say the most banal shit, and wishing you could leave.
Guitars dissolve in smudged razors, pushpins hidden in your lipstick. There may or may not be a horror show lurking within your candyfloss.