Wogan drinking Bailey’s half-cut announcing, ‘And here’s Holy Fuck, with Lovely Allen…’ The stuff dreams are made of. Terry Owen roots around in the singles bin.
Late of the Pier: The Bears are Coming – Single of the Week
What’s going on here then? Bleeps, bloops and if I’m not mistaken, is that Flat Eric in the background?
A fine jumbled up quirky mess of a record which would have been better tagged as a duet with Pacman if the last 30 seconds are anything to go by. Weirdness abounds throughout with the occasional slash of guitar and unexpected changes of pace. At times it sounds like they’ve been let lose in the BBC sound effects department.
Good on ’em. Can’t wait to hear what their new demo Piss Hands sounds like. One for Terry Wogan.
Black Kids: I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You
A jolly jaunt from Florida’s brightest young things. Produced by former Suede guitarist Bernard Butler, youngsters up and down the land will be climbing over each other to grab a copy of this infectious offering of shouty riff laden pop. You have to take for what it is – simple lyrics, loads of keyboards and a playground chanting chorus which all add up to a perfectly harmless but irritatingly catchy pop nugget.
You know that feeling you get when you suddenly wake up in the middle of a sinister dream and you’re not sure if you’re still living the nightmare or you’re actually awake? Nude sums up that feeling perfectly with it’s meandering flow of being in a place you probably don’t want to be and in fact, if you’re actually there at all.
It’s a hauntingly wistful arrangement and is sure to satisfy diehard fans but those hoping for another Paranoid Android should look elsewhere.
Holy Fuck: Lovely Allen
Another I’d love to hear Wogan introduce this record on his breakfast show. However, it’s a massively frustrating instrumental effort that threatens to break out of its shell but ultimately keeps returning to the same Genesis-tinged keyboard refrain.
The Observer describe them as ‘a real one off,’ while those bastions of broadsheet coolness, The Times, hail them as ‘chaotic, grungy and very hip.’
Maybe they’ve just picked the wrong track to release from the album but after 30 seconds you may as well switch off because the remaining four minutes are exactly the same. You’d be better off digging out a battered old Yes album instead. Utter balls.
The Whip: Trash
“I wanna, I wanna, I wanna be Trash.” Pretty much the sum total of the lyrical database for this single from Manchester’s latest great promise.
Comparisons to the likes of New Order are a little ambitious but there’s much to admire here with echoes of early 90s indie hedonism while the lyrical style is not too far removed from Ian Brown‘s trademark talking whisper. A fast-paced effort driven along by a meaty bassline, it deserves to make an impact.
The Rushes: Corners EP
The press release describes them as ‘Keane with bite.’ Make of that what you will. It’s a bog standard 4/4 time indie pop offering with all the predictable chord sequences that one would expect.
The press release also states that their songs are ‘designed to be played to huge stadium audiences.’ You may have seen them at Liverpool JMU on March 6.
PJ Harvey: The Devil
The gorgeous Polly Jean returns with her third offering from the highly acclaimed White Chalk album. Just short of three minutes, The Devil is an etheral gallop through the wilderness on horseback as Polly pounds out the minor chords on the piano. It yearns, it aches and most of all, it satisfies.