I thought I had well and truly put my pen away after the ninth issue of Brain Bulletin. Having enjoyed putting together the zine for a few years I turned my attention to playing music but I truly take my hat off to Rich Thane for giving me a kind shove and a monthly task. Here, I’ll write about music, new and old and some recommendations. The first recommendation would be to look up a master brain and comic author, Anika Mottershaw, who first brought the band I’ve chosen to home in on, Scary Mansion, to my attention.

After giving Scary Mansion a listen a jigsaw puzzle began to piece together. The whispery, haunting vocals belong to Leah Hayes – the girlfriend of Michael Leviton who I had the pleasure of playing with two summers ago when I split a bill with him at a bar in New York. Ryland of This Is Ivy League pointed me in the direction of Leviton and his ukulele riches. I was looking for somewhere that I could play with my friends Magic Magic and Ryland thought Mr Leviton could help us out. It was a very special evening of music in Alphabet city at Mo Pitkins bar which is now sadly closed. A delayed flight and an almost lost guitar caused my folks and I to land in New York late, too late to join Michael & Leah at one of their monthly get-togethers at their apartment. Friends and locals join them, playing music into the ‘wee hours and I felt in my bones I’d missed something rare that evening as well as not getting to meet Ms Hayes.

I listened to Michael’s album The Perfect Place To Drown, for a good few months. He was quite the comic during his set at Mo Pitkin’s – tall, slight, sweet and curious like an Edward Gorey drawing. On record however, his songs are sentimental and dreamy. Ryland wrote a list of recommendations when he visited London last February and the highlight of the list, was Bad Lobotomy – Leah’s, he explained, latest project. The dark songs were curious, creepy and delicate. I didn’texpect anything less from one half of such a rare, creative couple.

These days, Scary Mansion seems to fill Leah’s time and I’m happy her and Michael’s creations keep weaving in and out of life and conversations.

Be sure to give Scary Mansion’s page a visit and excuse the pun, book a room early! Oh and it’s not all new – my favourite golden oldie at the moment is ‘Frozen Smiles’ by Graham Nash and David Crosby – have a look for it!

We love Rock Plaza Central. They’ve been a bit quiet since they released their previous album, Are We Not Horses, a couple of years ago, to critical acclaim not just on a very young TLOBF, but also on Pitchfork. They’ve shed a few members, left their record label, but have returned with …At the Moment of our Most Needing, a stripped back, inspiring slice of Americana that adds plenty of Brass to their ramshackle sound.

With the album released in the U.S. this month, and a UK tour and release being muted, we got RPC main man Chris Eaton to provide us with some insight to the tracks on his latest masterpiece… Continue Reading

Dan Mangan

Those of you who have been loitering around the security doors here at TLOBF Towers for a while now you have probably noticed the frankly phenomenal amount of great new music coming from Canada over the last few years. From the classics (Joni, Neil and Laughing Lenny), the big hitters (Arcade Fire/ BSS/ Feist) to the up and coming (The Acorn, Woodpigeon, Ohbijou) TLOBF has been committed to bring you the best of what the Great White North has to offer. So we figured it made sense to start a new column dedicated to uncovering the latest new talent emerging from Canada, to showcase some of the lesser sung acts, labels, and events that may not have shown up on the collective radar over here in the UK. So from The Acorn to Zumpano TLOBF brings you: Oh! Canada.

And what better way to start off our new column than a review of the Canadian Blast! showcase from this years recent Great Escape festival. Continue Reading

As Fanfarlo’s brilliant album Reservoir finally hit the shops this week (I got my lovingly made special edition via Rough Trade yesterday!), the band wanted to drop us a line and let us know what’s been played on the bus over the past couple of months.

Whilst passing time on the tour bus, their senses were peaked by the following…

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Before we run our extensive review of last weekends ATP shenanigans, we asked  John Brainlove’s to jot down some thoughts about the weekends happenings.

Look out for a full review plus a bumper photo feature coming very soon!!

All band photographs by Rich Thane.

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So, we’re in Simon’s rickety car, screaming down the motorway, chasing the patch of blue sky that somehow seems to be constantly moving away from us. The moustachioed Major Matty Hall is our car’s co-pilot, having shotgunned the front seat, like a bastard. He is conducting a short seminar on the difference between nuclear and thermonuclear bombs. We are hurtling towards Minehead. The tape player is apparently frozen, so I am piping The Horrors’ new album through my tinny battery powered speakers.

It’s ATP. yayTP. The lineup this weekend was ostensibly selected by ‘The Fans’, or at the least the excitable ones who buy tickets in time to effect the voting.

Christopher Alcxxk of Internet Forever texts me. He has picked up ten of my favourite Portuguese custard tarts for me from the bakery near his house. We have a boot full of booze and breakfasts. I’ll be sleeping on a sofa in someone else’s chalet this weekend – ATP press tickets come sans-accommodation – and I’m gonna be doing some cooking to say thanks.

By the time we get onsite, we’ve already missed Grouper. Apparently she had an early slot because of travel arrangements (before people were even allowed into their chalets) and played a pretty grumpy set to a half empty room.

After some epic trundling around the chalet village with my luggage on a trolley, I make it into Casiotone For The Painfully Alone in time to catch a few highlights from his great new record, Vs. Children. I get a text – our chalet window has been smashed in while the others were at Tesco getting booze, and there’s glass everywhere, including on the sofa I’m sleeping on.

Andy Hung, Fuck Buttons

But before I want to deal with that, Jeffrey Lewis is downstairs plying his ever-engaging anti-folk, then HEALTH, who turn in one of the performances of the weekend: a battering, powerful, committed set. I’m a convert.

I pop back to the chalet to survey the damage. Butlins have cleaned up our chalet and boarded up the window. I sit down for a minute, and end up boozily sleeping through Devo.

Fail.

Back in the festival, everyone is talking about how good they were.

Double Fail.

It’s around this time that I bump into Andy from Fuck Buttons, who says their set is going to be 80% new, with a new beginning. The crowd is heaving. “The Fans” are, tonight, increasingly ‘messy’, dressed up kids staggering around with wide pupils. I’m still pretty straight at this point and feel a little bit old. Unusual for the famously ‘beardy’ ATP festival. Fuck Buttons launch straight into a new song, and don’t let up for an hour – their new set is more about beats and building momentum than their previous layered noise stuff. There’s a rhythmic, wriggling section with Andy squeezing sounds out of a Gameboy, an extended, dancey, layered up new song with softer drum and synth sounds than usual, and a new ending with some searing bassy bursts and powerful drumming from Ben. If there’s any criticism to be made, it’s that some of the transitions are a bit long, and let the build/release energy drop rather than peak, but it’s a good solid performance, and a great introduction to the new songs.

Rolf Klausener, The Acorn

Saturday morning, and I still haven’t got those damn tarts off Chris. We keep missing each other. It’s turning into an ongoing custard tart saga. Me and my chalet-mates play crazy golf. The Cave Singers are audible coming from the main stage. The golf isn’t at all crazy. It’s just small.

The Acorn is my favourite show of the weekend. They’re perfect on the pavillion stage. Their warm sound fills the space, resonant and embracing. The two-drummer rhythm section fill every space with sensitively played taps and beats, carrying along the wonderfully emotional and engaging songs. The hairs on the back of my neck go up, and my body feels suddenly ablaze with adrenalin, and I breathe in the sound. Connection: made.

We bowl. I win. Win!

Beirut play the electronic songs from the new album as traditional arrangements, and they stand up well. “Would you prefer it if I put on a donk on there?” asks Zac. I’m half surprised that my answer is no.

Sarah Pickles of team ATP is having a big wedding party on the Saturday night, so we head over. Marnie Stern is there! I croak out a feeble fanboy “hello Marnie Stern!”, much to the amusement of my so-called friends. The Pontin’s 5-0 descend at 5am and disperse us. Chalet parties till dawn, then the seaside for a blue light sunrise. A man with a musical backpack goes spinning past us, to the strains of “North American Scum”, wheeling down the beach and into the surf, followed by a flock of dancing hippy kids. I fall into bed satisfied that as much fun as humanly possible has been squeezed out of Saturday night at ATP.

By the time I’m capable of functioning again, the Sunday lineup is sparse. The headliners are repeated with both Sleep and The Jesus Lizard playing again, even though neither of them were full to capacity on Saturday. Doubling up the headliners was understandable when there was a queue around the block at the Camber Sands site for someone like Sonic Youth, but here it seems excessive, especially considering the ever-escalating ticket price.

Jason Pierce, Spiritualized

I don’t know if my mood is something to do with it, but Parts & Labour seem really weak. I can’t get into Killing Joke, but then I’ve never liked them much really. Spiritualized play a bludgeoning, unsubtle steamroller set of gospel-tinged stadium rock that sounds more Oasis than Spaceman 3. It’s a big, satisfyingly large and solid sound – but size isn’t everything.

It takes the sheer happiness explosion of The Mae Shi to get the blood pumping again – their odd mixture of jerky guitar lines and screamo, and their chubby-faced emo-tinged manboy 90’s pop-punk sound is accompanied by all kinds of ace theatrical stage antics, including their trademark move – covering the crowd with a giant rainbow-coloured cloth canopy. Fun times.

Custard Tart Saga

Chris finally catches up with me – the box of tarts has congealed into a solid mass of soggy pastry and warm custard. The rest of Sunday night is spent playing poker and making a dent in the last tray of beers. I’m too exhausted for the party/melee/dance-off/bro-down down at the Crazy Horse bar this time around.

The next day, I hang around a bit longer than usual as Simon steels himself for the drive after 72 hours of sleep deprivation. Within hours, the hall is full of extended families, and the shutters have gone up on confectionary stalls, and the bouncy castles have been blown up. The main hall is full of Lego-coloured plastic furniture, and the only soundcheck that’s happening is for bingo. I finally fall into the car, and fall asleep, and wake up back in London a few hours later.

Brainlove Records

Aloha from a sunny Gothenburg. Usually, a lot of good music gets released this time of year and ‘09 is no exception.

Not too long ago, Sincerely Yours (SY – home of acts such as Air France, Jonas Game etc) presented a new act called JJ. Not much is known about them but their first release, ‘JJ No°1′, consists of two great tracks to get spring started with beautiful vocals and a Saint Etienne kind of feel.

About a week ago, not long after releasing ‘JJ N°’ 1, SY surprised us by introducing another new artist, Avner. This time with Swedish lyrics. Avner is really something else – a truly interesting man. The first single is called ‘Bed För Mig’ (Pray For Me), a stunning track to say the least. I remember reading about him some months ago while he was still unsigned, and thinking to myself: “I hope someone understands this guy and sign him real quick”. And someone did, thank god. Continue Reading

John models his home made 'Anika t-shirt'

9th April : Glee Club, Birmingham
Back in the tour bus and up to Birmingham, not far from Nick and Christian’s native Burton-On-Trent.  The two of them played at The Glee Club when they first started doing shows as a duo so to return with the band feels good.

Bas’s motto ‘I can always eat’ is put to the test when we are shown a delicious buffet which he helps himself to with admirable zeal.  He manages to finish the last of the potato salad (new single?) just before we take to the stage.

The show is sold out and extra chairs have been moved right up against the stage area, so much so that Christian find himself repeatedly banging his left leg against the woman sitting right next to the Rhodes and Mike is genuinely concerned that his monitor may deafen the girl sitting right on top of it.  We feel exposed but happy and it is a great show.

John, the dedicated chap who started up the ‘Leisure Society for Christmas Number One’ group on Facebook is in attendance tonight and we’re relieved to find that he is not at all scary, but a perfectly charming and well rounded human.  He is wearing a self-produced Leisure Society T-shirt featuring Anika’s comic strip.  His enthusiasm is noted. Continue Reading

L-R: Helen, Christian, Bas

3rd April : Westgarth Social Club, Middlesborough
Hello again TLOBF. We’re back on the bus, zooming up the motor-way playing more Weetabix. Hunky Dory on the stereo, Mike and Will still adapting the rules of the game at their leisure (no pun intended).

A thirty minute stop off at BBC Tees where we perform ‘Cars’ and ‘Bonafide’ and do a quick interview. Arriving at Westgarth Social Club we are met by THE NICEST PROMOTER IN THE WORLD, Andy Carr from ‘The Kids Are Solid Gold’. Soundcheck is not without its challenges, but everyone is so darned lovely we don’t really mind.

The place starts to fill up as we hang out in our little dressing room. There is a handheld snow-machine which we all eye excitedly until Will breaks the tension and lets fly with it. It sounds like a chainsaw biting into an anvil. The idea of spraying snow into the front row’s faces as Nick starts the opening bars of ‘Last Of The Melting Snow’ is mooted, then quickly dropped.

The show is a beautiful thing, we get the impression that the crowd are just pleased someone made it out here, it would certainly explain the profound level of warmth we receive from the moment we take to the stage. The highlight undoubtedly is the moment Christian’s step-father Russ Field (ex Showaddywaddy guitarist & local hero) joins us for ‘Matter Of Time’ on ukulele. We play numerous encores until we run out of songs. No-one leaves. We are invited to various houses and flats and hotels and asked when we are coming back. Seriously – these people are beyond friendly.

Travel Lodge. 1am. We order beers and ciders and ice from the recalcitrant night attendant. Christian proceeds to drop the ice all over the floor and is viciously heckled by a slurring bar-stool-sloucher in a football shirt. Demonstrating surprising restraint, Christian pretends not to hear. Night night. Continue Reading

The Leisure Society at The Luminaire. Photographs by Anika Mottershaw.

Currently on a TLOBF Sponsored tour of the UK, The Leisure Society are selling out shows left right and centre. No suprise really, not only are they one of the best new live bands in the country, their debut album The Sleeper [review] (out now on Willkommen Records) is already contender for album of 2009. Whilst idling away the spare hours travelling up and down the nations motorways, the band are keeping us up to date on the tour in the shape of a diary… Here’s the first installment: Continue Reading

El Perro Del Mar, by Johanna Hedborg

Pop music is a strange little thing, isn’t it?

Swedish music is really popular these days; American magazines write articles about Gothenburg, Air France get to tour in Russia, English kids write about The Tough Alliance in their blogs, journalists write about the Swedish renaissance in pop.

Where do you think acts like The Embassy, The Tough Alliance and Studio got their inspiration from? That’s right. England. Madchester, Post punk, indie pop, acid house – all British influences.

So, it’s kind of strange that Swedish bands listened to English music originally, tried to sound like them, and then some years later the English found Swedish pop music and fell in love with it.

That’s the really simplified version. It’s not quite that straight forward, though. The interesting part is that Swedish pop music doesn’t sound that British at all. And perhaps that’s the attraction.

It’s like when the old explorers saw an unknown animal, like a seal or a whale, they told their families and friends about it when they got home and for every person that re-told the story, it got worse. Years later, the description that started off as a seal, turned into some kind of hideous beast with ten heads and wing… or somthing. You catch my drift.

The bored Swedish kids, that later became pop bands, listened to New Order and Happy Mondays and tried to sound like them, but they couldn’t. Instead, it became something else. It evolved and got mixed with a tradition of Swedish music and that’s where I’ll begin today.

One of the most criticly acclaimed new acts from Sweden is Dan Lissvik and Rasmus Hägg, also known as Studio. They’re a great example of the above theory.

Studio is by far one of the most interesting bands ever to come out of Sweden. They build their world of pop just the way it’s supposed to be done. If you listen carefully, you can hear echoes of their old record collections, but it’s the context that’s changed, and has become extremly contemporary – aware of the past but gazing at the future.

Dan Lissvik of Studio released his first solo album not too long ago, called 7 trx + Intermission. It’s an amazing album. Rasmus Hägg and El Perro Del Mar have just released an album called Love Is Not Pop (out now on Licking Fingers), and for those who haven’t yet heard it, it’s just beautiful. Also, Dan just gave away a previously unreleased song for free called ‘Practise’, and as if that wasn’t enough, he also just remixed Fever Ray’s fabulous ‘When I Grow Up’. Look ‘em up.

Martin Hwasser is a young man who last year released a single called ‘About That Promise’. A fifteen minute long adventure that takes us above the mountains, down the hills and through the jungle. Driven by a slamming piano, ‘About That Promise’ is an impressive piece of soundtrack-like pop. Martin is also a member of the more indie pop oriented band Most Valuable Players. Having only released this one song, Hwasser definitely sets a high standard for his coming releases. Although I have no doubt that he will deliver songs even better in the future.

Sebastian Hedberg and Victor Nilsson, both members of MFMB, (who I wrote about last time), have a project called Private Stash that takes off where Hwasser left us, but with a slighly different angle. Less mountains and more Hacienda. Some time after ‘About That Promise’, Private Stash released their first piece called ‘When My Condition Is Alright’. They too have only released one official song, which is as frustating as it is exciting. Hopefully Private Stash will release more material this summer.

Sometimes, Private Stash remind me of my old favourites Tangerine Dream. Which brings us round nicely to one of the most exciting new labels in Sweden who just happen share their name with one of Tangerine Dreams best albums – Force Majeure.

Force Majeure have currently three acts signed; Bandjo, Nhessingtons and Museum Of Bella Artes. Bandjo just released a new 12” called ‘Fátima’. A record that, honestly, has some of the most impressive and ambitious work I’ve heard in a long time. The title track, ‘Fátima’, starts off in a post-punk fashion before moving on to a cosmic disco vibe, over to a 70’s kind of feel and then back again. This record is a must have. It’s a stunning piece of work. Remember their name, because these guys will be big. In the meantime, I’m waiting for new releases by the mysterious Nhessingtons and Museum Of Bella Artes.

And, finally, a quick recommendation for those who enjoy Studio. I highly recommend ROOS. One of the members from electro pop duo Cat5, Christina Roos, solo porject. Definitly worth checking out.

There you are. Now, I leave you with a quote until next time: “Try making a ring-tone out of this you bastards”.

(Last update: 28th May)

Ah, the great British festival. Pay over the odds for a ticket, camp on a damp incline in a field that turns brown at the first sign of drizzle, clump what seems like miles between stages past people who still think loon pants and glowsticks are fashionable, get fleeced for drinks and listen to a clodhopping post-landfill indie band through a murky sound system. Can’t beat it.

This is TLOBF’s list of every festival this summer in the UK worth bothering with. All prices given are for full weekend camping tickets and all details are correct at time of going to press.

We will update this as and when new acts get confirmed making it (hopefully) your one stop shop for all Festival shenanigans.

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My Bloody Valentine. Proof in practice that occasionally reunions can be a good thing.

It’s a tricky one. Reform. The (banking) world is in unutterably dire need of it, The Stone Roses, less so. It’s funny innit. You’d think with bands, it oughta be a Golden Rule. It certainly used to be. Whatever it was you had when you were young, a gang, and hungry – well, chaps, you don’t have it now. Not that old people don’t get hungry. Or form gangs. But it is never the same. It’s old news. So, the somewhat logical but clearly bollocks argument goes, it ought be to make more art. To create. They are artists, right? Do us a favour though, old guys: DON’T. With the exception of (half of) Springsteen’s Magic, and a good bit of Bowie’s  Heathen, who makes anything consistently good 20 years on? And don’t say Neil Young and Dylan, cos smart men, crazy heads and sometimes fiery curmudgeons they may be, but you know what you want to hear them play when you go see them.  And don’t deny it, bitch. But I guess as each album passes, adding one ace tune to the canon is good enough for the old guys, although the same strike rate woulds doom a novice band.

And is a good, if less crazed, rendition of an old song such a crime?  Or is it just pop music done really well? Continue Reading

Abba, Henrik Larrson, vikings, dirty great metallers, Sven Goran Eriksson, Ace Of Base, meatballs and, erm… nope, that’s it, I’m all out.

When I first started to plan ‘Svenskt’, a compilation of Swedish music we released via Big Scary Monsters Records in October 2007, I must admit my knowledge of the country was fairly lacking. We’d previously put out a couple of Jeniferever CDs and through them I’d discovered a small number of other incredible Scandinavian bands, but as it turned out, the surface had barely been scratched.

By the start of October I’d assembled a cast of 18 varied and wonderful bands, discovered that Sweden is 53% covered in forests and that King Carl Gustaf XVI ruled it all. Oh and the equivelant of 577 football pitches would fill the worldwide area covered by IKEA stores. That’s a lot of cheap furniture. Just before the release of the CD I travelled to Stockholm to deliver copies to some of the bands, attend four gigs including one in a mental hospital, meet many amazing people and eventually end up being interviewed on national televesion, much to my dismay when I noticed they’d misspelt and mis-pronounced my name!

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Folk super-group Lau are one of the best live bands around, melding influences outside of straight folk music to create something fresh and exotic. Here, we asked the band to recommend some of the best new folk acts to hit the scene as part of the recent renaissance in folk music.

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Robin Pecknold, Fleet Foxes / Photograph by Rich Thane

What a strange year it’s been. A few months before I signed Fleet Foxes to Bella Union in late 2007, I was all of a muddle…

*Cue swirly time-warp visuals*

Our european licensing partners (who distributed our records in Europe), suddenly went bust without warning leaving us without much lead in our pencils. Our office, which was a whole railway arch that vibrated noisily every time a Tube train went overhead (the vibrations would also curiously make the light in the toilets go off if you were sat in there reading the Beano), became overrun with friendly (they just walked slowly and most casually across the floor while we were chatting or listening to music) though rank-smelling, mice. They were way too nice (”nice mice”) to kill, but way too prolific to control. Continue Reading

Their second album, The Law of The Playground, was released on Monday. What better time to hear all about the inspiration behind each of the tracks! We caught up with The Boy Least Likely To and asked them to give the low-down on each of the tracks.

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MFMB / Photograph by Emma Hartvig

The first in our new series all about the burgeoning Swedish music scene; Nya Vågen (or The New Wave) sees Victor Svedberg disect what is happening right now in Gothenburg, Stockholm and Malmö.

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What’s that noise? It’s the sound of young Sweden. A Sweden more creative and alive than it’s been for a long time.

Ok, really. What IS that noise? Well, it’s Pistol Disco, of course. A duo consisting of Alexander Palmestål and Mikael Enqvist. Their kraut-rock influenced music is a facinating experience. Listening to them is a journey through history, passing acts like Neu!, Spacemen 3, The Jesus and Mary Chain and Silver Apples but it all leads to something truly unique and beautiful. A dreamy world of noise and rhythm. Continue Reading

It’s sold out? Already? Of course it’s sold out, and I don’t mean that in a ’stick-it-to-the man’ kind of way. Clearly Mr Eavis’ latest method of ticket flogging has worked to great effect, and the gradual, trickling leak of headliners has only served to increase that.

There’s something for everyone at Glastonbury: the variety of music is astounding and, combined with the vast collection of street (or in this case, field) art and general mad shenanigans conjured up by the attendees – it makes for one of the very best festivals in the world. The ideal place to shed that city stress and learn how to circumnavigate with the use of a tiny, wet Guardian lanyard.

Unlike 2008, there are to be no hip-hop superstars taking the piss out of Oasis treading the Pyramid stage’s boards this year. Instead, it’s going to be the more traditional, humourless, politically-inspired pop legends of : Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen and Blur…

Oh, I’m sorry – I must’ve nodded off.

After returning from Glastonbury last year, tired, stinking and looking rather like I’d just been shat out of a cow; Michael ‘ye olde King of Glastonbury’ Eavis started whining that too many older people were changing the ‘feel’ of the festival.

Say what? I beg your puddin? Hex-squeeze me? Did you just infer that I is too old to part-ay? Hey, I didn’t know that 30 to 40 year olds weren’t your target audience – I mean – just look at this year’s headliners. Wow! Well they’re just set to appeal to dem mad yoof, yeah?

Now, I don’t care how bad the weather gets down on Worthy Farm, though the rain can make things an awful lot harder when it comes to dancing and generally ‘getting around’ the billion acre site when your wellies are caked in 2 kilos of mud; I’m not bothered that the PA on the main stages can be shoddy (remember the Arctic Monkeys’ headline slot when the sound was only coming out at one side of the stage? Ummm – wooops!); I’m quite happy to use the long-drop toilets and drink beer and cider that tastes like Michael’s flavoured, carbonated piss, but I absolutely refuse – REFUSE to be part of Glastonbury’s problem.

It was great to have Jay-Z headline last year. Amongst the many cow pats of crap that the Eavis’s managed to drop in, here was something so very different – and it showed just how adventurous people with CBEs can be. And then, like Commanders of the Order of the non-existent British Empire tend to, they go and spoil it with witless comments and return to their traditional, aged-rocker fayre – and all in time for all the ‘kids’ who they hope will have bought all the tickets on that new, goofy micro-credit system created to recreate that alleged bygone Glastonbury vibe.

Well, balls to Glastonbury and balls to your stupid, crinkly line-up, Eavis! As exciting as Shangrai-La was, and as brilliant as the fires of the magnificent Trash City were – Glastonbury 2009 sounds like it’s set to be more of the same bleeding bollock-ache of a traipse that it always was. Only, this time, and much like they did to Paul McCartney, the kids you so deeply value will be yelling “You’re shit!” at Bruce Springsteen. Which is, of course, what anyone with at least one functioning ear would say.

We all know that Manchester is England’s second city, if not in terms of population then at least culturally- The Smiths, Joy Division, The Fall, The Chameleons, New Order etc etc supply a rich musical heritage that is complemented perfectly by the town’s often strikingly beautiful Victorian architecture. Nowadays if you only got all your music news from newspaper supplements you’d probably think The Courteeners and The Ting Tings are the only thing Manchester has going for it but that’s where you’d be wrong- not only are both those bands actually from London and its only an elaborate fiction that they have any connection whatsoever to my adopted home, but in fact the really big stars are these 6 bands featured here. Continue Reading

Ah, the Brit awards. That bastion of musical knowledge has finally rolled round once again. I remember lapping up the awards when I was 14 or so. I was round at a friend’s house – we were playing Bloodwych on his Amiga – and he had the Brits double album of the year (on tape) playing. 

Like every other year – it’s awful stuff on display. It’s the kind of moronic theatre on a world stage that is surely detested by the rest of the world. I mean, does anyone actually care about these awards? Do they have any prestige whatsoever? Surely, this ‘British’ equivalent of the Grammys is just an excuse to rake in some cash, see Kylie’s arse and for good artists to not show up.

The best British male awards includes Mike Skinner, Ian Brown, James Morrison (?) and Paul Weller. Who lines this stuff up? Is it the public? It’s only Weller who’s released anything half-decent recently – and he should’ve stopped when The Jam ended.  He should ditch the haircut and retire immediately. Maybe I’ll start a Facebook campaign.

Radiohead should win the best band award - In Rainbows is possibly the best thing they’ve ever done. They’re pretty much the only band in the world who keep moving forward, musically. I reckon Elbow or *shudder* Coldplay will win. Coldplay, because they sold the most albums last year, and Elbow for that huge riff on Grounds for Divorce.  I love it that Girls Aloud and Take That are even in the same catogory – it’s a mockery of an award.

Best International Male is an interesting category Jay-Z, Kanye West, Beck, Neil Diamond and Seasick Steve. Seasick Steve, who was hideously (and quite incorrectly) lambasted by a certain NME journo  late last year, would be an interesting win. He’s as much an outsider as Neil Diamond. The BBC Seasick documentary  ‘Bringing it all back home’ was excellent in terms of its breadth, delivery and content.

The Scientologist Beck won’t win – leaving one of the big hip-hop hitters who’ve both collaborated with UK artists. Did you see Jay-Z chumming it up with Coldplay at the Grammys? The lovely and unique Beth Rowley should win best Female but it will probably be Estelle in light of ‘American Boy’.

All in all, my feelings towards the Brits (and awards ceremonies in general) have changed as I’ve aged. BAFTA, Oscars, Grammy, MOBO and the plethora of other self-flagellating excuses for congratulating ‘artists’ make me want to pick up my TV, barge my way into the ceremony and smash it down on every winner’s head as they come to collect their bloody trophy.

Art created by artists is for appreciation – not for simple tokenistic trinkets and plaudits to stick on CD cases to shift more units. Sadly, that’s all these awards truly represent.