Joanna Newsom

Young girl sings in strange screech-voice, wears renaissance outfits and plays harp. Not sounding like the latest hipster phenomenon? Well, it's precisely this inability to predict the next trend that makes the wearers of skinny jeans so effortlessly cool, and me (and you) left gasping in their uber-nonchalant wake. For reasons entirely too complex to be grasped by my behind-the-curve brain, it has been decided that Joanna Newsom is "in". While I quite enjoy the featured song, I'm having real difficulty getting on-board a whole album of 12-minute harp/vocal tracks. But seeing as how Erasure have featured in my recent posts, my opinion probably don't count for shit.

The Beta Band

Last night I watched It's all gone Pete Tong, a mockumentary about an Ibiza DJ who overcomes deafness and a mammoth drug habit to rise to the to of his game. The metaphor for cocaine addiction is a giant badger that makes Godzilla-eqsue noises. What's not to like? Anyways, the point is that The Beta Band did a good chunk of the score, and I was reminded of how much I loved their blend of laid-back indie/electronica.

The Essex Green

Oooh, I'm so excited, I could crush a grape. A week on Saturday (the 27th) I'm off to see The Essex Green play at Paradise. They're supporting the excellent (and previously covered) Camera Obscura. Unfortunately, The Essex Green appear to have been concentrating on honing their music craft at the expense of making videos. Instead, here are links to two mp3s from their latest two albums.

The Essex Green - I don't know why you stay (mp3)
The Essex Green - Our Lady In Havana (mp3)

Erasure

My mp3 player thinks I’m gay. I keep it on random, but it insists on playing only Erasure, Pet Shop Boys, Frankie Goes To Hollywood and Madonna (which make up less than 1% of the music on there. And those are purely for nostalgia sake. Honestly). It’s not the first object to question my sexuality - that would be my dad. I remember him sitting me down and telling me that he and my mum would love me just as much if I was gay (an extremely progressive stance for a forty year old guy from North Wales. I suspect my mum’s influence in his choice of words: My dad has never before or since used the “L” word). At the time I was baffled. But looking back, all those days when my dad returned from watching my little brother play rugby to find me locked in my bedroom with my best mate (Howard), singing and dancing to Love to Hate You, may have given him the wrong impression. Howard, dad, this one’s for you…