singled out – missive 157

Singled Out
Missive 157

For Kelly and Mark

Singled Out – plays records, listens to records and writes about records – now how feckin hard is that?

No pre-amble this time not because we haven’t anything to say – which er – in fact we haven’t – except to say that this is an unintended trimmed singled out due a few PC problems which involved our computer deciding to mismanage a few reviews – so its apologies to the filthy little angels crew, the beat maras, kids love lies and lets wrestle – in the main – who will now feature (all things being well) within missive 159 – hopefully at the weekend.

Pocketbooks ‘Waking up’ (Make Do and Mend). Spring ushering tingle some guitars, softly shy eyed lilting melodies and hopelessly lovelorn boy / girl harmonies – how could we resist. With a debut release tucked under their collective arm in the shape of last May’s ‘cross the line’ which I’m ashamed to say we missed out on plus an appearance on the Smalltown America compilation ‘the kids at the club’ (again to much gnashing of teeth amiss in our gaff), London based quintet Pocketbooks have been steadily drawing admiring swoons from the clued up record buying fraternity. Sounding ripe to be plucked by the Fortuna Pop stable, ‘waking up’ features four nuzzling nuggets of exquisitely crafted thoughtfully idle some pop that slyly references the timid bashfulness of ’tigermilk’ era Belle and Sebastian (just tune into the cantering carefree-ness of the delightfully skipping 60’s piano motifs of the opening title cut) and the longing spring hued shimmer pop of early career Heavenly while serving evidence indeed that somewhere amid their ranks there’s a sensitive soul who bides away the quiet evening hours demurring to the sounds of Randy Newman, Gilbert O’Sullivan and Dean Friedman (those in disagreement should fall headlong into the bitter sweetening warmth filled embrace of ‘falling leaves‘). Pocketbooks delight in eking out brittle hand holding hosannas – lovers of back catalogues belonging to Sarah, early K, Bus Stop and Matinee should find themselves suitably rewarded, these delicate buttercup hopping treasures are love note tipped arrows aimed at the heart. Subtle traces of Teenage Fanclub’s ‘God knows its true’ delicately filter through the ether to grace ‘don’t stop’ (which incidentally you can download for gratis from the bands website at ) – this honey crusted beauty of breathless introspection is daintily teased with a breezily numbing countrified vibe that freewheels into moments of low level lo-fi Spector-isms all the time gathering stature to pepper shots against whatever defences your holding firmly onto. Best of the bunch though is the aching ’love is a stick you throw’ – braided with subtle calypso shades and what sounds like banjos (which regular readers to these pages will have you know are heartily welcomed here) – this world weary honey had us recalling some heaven sent studio collaboration between Hey Paulette, the Sundays and the Siddleys – but then why oh why do you need me to fumble around trying to persuade you that you need this (of course you do – but that’s besides the point) – take a chance and treat yourself you’ll be sorry when they’re massive. Deputy single of the Missive.

Lack of Afro featuring Steve Marriott ‘touch my soul’ (freestyle). Can we start by saying those of you who really dug that killer Andy White / Paul Weller cut ‘are you trying to lonely?’ that was put out by Acid Jazz a few months back are gonna go apeshit for this. For once the description ‘smoking’ is well and truly applicable. ‘touch my soul’ just oozes class – a sassily soul skanking behemoth this white hot babe has been putting blisters on our hi-fi since it dropped through our mail box earlier today. Lack of Afro is the alter ego of funk fiend Adam Gibbons who as the story goes started uploading home recordings on a friends website -the ensuing buzz generated across the underground scene had the Freestyle crew punching out the opposition in a bid to sign him as their own. An album ‘press on’ is lurking out there somewhere (which we’ll be hunting down pretty sharpish) while plans are afoot for a second full length shortly. Two shots of the title cut feature here – the radio edit and the full on album mix, the sample laden ‘touch my soul’ features the vocal of the late 60’s face Steve Marriott and utilises the Small Faces ‘afterglow (of your love)‘ as its underpinning guide groove whilst setting it against a blistering club floor crushing colossus of interwoven molten Stax, Northern Soul and zoot suited Mod accents all cast into a delirious funk strewn brew that to these ears sounds like an on fire and at the top of their game ’searching for the young soul rebels’ era Dexy’s re-branding the ’Italian Job’ score. Stunning in a word. While for the purists among you the sleeve pays homage to the Small Faces legendary ‘Ogden’s Nut Flake’ cover. Parked in the middle of this titans twin versions you’ll find ‘the outsider’ – a heady late 60’s early 70’s styled humungous hulking mutant funk mother ship that intrinsically draws its throbbing energy from the attending parts of Sly and the Family Stone, Edwin Moses, some neat dashes of chilled keys, a few pinches of freeform jazz interludes and some grinding brass corteges al sumptuously gathered up and polished to pristine perfection by a cool as f**k John Barry like arranged production. The first sounds of summer – all we need now is the bloody sun.

Those of you near a book store may do well to pick up a copy of the latest Clash magazine #24 – inside this particular Hot Chip cover fashion / arts / music journal there are spots on the bustling Liverpool scene, stuff about the Norwegian new wave, the Envelopes the usual ones to watch featurette and a rather sweet interview with the ever gorgeous Alison Goldfrapp whose new album ‘seventh Tree’ (bollocks – we’ll just have to buy) is out or about to come out (hey fingers on the pulse and all that nonsense) is pre-heralded by this quietly cascading gem of pastoral eloquence entitled ‘accident and emergency’ – just check out the end bit with the kettle coming to the boil – had us creased up but then we have been known to laugh at the sight of Charlie Drake on the gogglebox… accounting for taste eh?

Next up a brace of goodies from the esteemed enterprises known as Static Caravan – well it would have been three but the Accidental 7” was mislaid in a posting out cock up and may well feature at the arse of this missive who knows….when it comes it will feature that’s all I’m saying….

Yellow Moon Band ‘Maybach’ (Static Caravan). We initially mentioned this at missive 146 wherein we espoused ecstatically as to its merits and why you should have it installed immediately into your record collection. We’ve now got ourselves a finished vinyl copy and it looks well dandy – only 500 of these babies around all replete and housed in dinky looking die cut ’Harvest’ / ‘Deram’ inspired facsimile labels and company sleeves. Well smart. We needn’t repeat ourselves about the delights of this inspired 70’s styled stoner folk three track nugget, though ’maybach’ it has to be said is a fringe flickin’ and wig flippin’ boogie-some bastard of the highest merit – think Mountain in a face off with Hawkwind with Jimmy Page refereeing. One for the prog purists methinks.

Ass / Blood Music ’Split’ (Static Caravan). A Scandinavian head to head of sorts that sees Static regulars Blood Music paired with Ass and each devoting two tracks apiece on this limited red / blue splatter wax 7”. As said Blood Music should need no introductions to the Static faithful – loosely mentioned in these musings a few years back (missive 90 to be precise) – Karl Jonas Winqvist (for it is he who is Blood Music) and friends caused a fair amount of chattering among the whispering classes of the music underground networks following his debut full length ’sing a song fighter’. Winqvist’s unique style and idiosyncratic approach to melodic development is perfectly exemplified on the gloriously up beat and radiating ‘don quite’. All at once crooked and trippy, there’s a kind of cinematic sheen that lends itself throughout this little nugget that suggests attention has been paid to Morricone’s unusual playfulness as found on the individual character scores within the monumental ‘once upon a time in the west’ especially the clumpishly inebriated scene stealing aspects applied to Robards’ Cheyenne. Dsh this with a delicious mexicana dialect add in some withering tomfooling brass arrangements and a skanking underpin and you have something that to these ears sounds like the work of a session collaboration between the much missed L’Augmentation and Gulliver. Elsewhere you’ll find the torturously brief but dusty ‘problematique’ stumbling and sighing its way into your affections sounding not unlike a happy pill popping Will Oldham overdosing on breezy banjo pirouettes after a night in blissing out on Ivor Cutler records. We know Geoff Static has been raving about Ass for a while now since sending over a copy of his self titled debut full length via the Headspin imprint a few weeks back which we thoroughly recommend a truly captivating debut awaiting appreciation and the term classic to be deservedly bestowed upon it – think Archer Prewitt meets Oddfellows Casino and then some more – Static are planning a limited vinyl release of said album while next month should see Ass’s second full length ‘my get up and go just got up and went’ hit the racks next month. For now though something of a taster via ‘it’s in the galley’ and ‘turn the boat, turn the boat’. Admittedly not as flowing as the seven cuts found gracing the aforementioned self titled full length this brace of beauties adopt a reflective nautical air to them that’s so slender and unassuming you feel obliged to draw up close in almost reverent fascination. ‘it’s in the gallery’ – in our humbled opinion the best of the twin set is touchingly tender – as it softly bobs and weaves assuming a spectral demeanour, in some respects not a million miles in terms of sound effectiveness as those early Inch Time releases with their pastel hued picturesque pastoral portraits, the detail is in the texture as it slowly gathers depth and wraps you rewardingly, the delicate unwinding acoustics caressed by pining shanty spectres and dinky braids of nursery room twinkle bells. Scrumptious. Equally inspired and introspective is the piano and string led ‘turn the boat, turn the boat’ – a melancholic and noire-ish gem that takes its cue from those quieter moments before the climatic storm gatherings as found on those early and crucial godspeed releases – in short you need this – limited to just 500 copies.

Further reading –

Future Caravans to keep your eye out for – aside that AWOL Accidental 7”, there’s what promises to be a rather sweet CD looming on the horizon from Smile Down Upon Us – who are a three piece built around the engaging talent that is Tokyo vocalist Moomlooo who along with messrs David Sheppaerd and Keiron Phelan (Phelan Sheppard, State River Widening, Ellis Island Sound et al) – you can sample some of the wonders in store via – gorgeously trippy daydream freeform pastoral folk is what’s on offer, Moomlooo throughout it all hazily coos, purrs and seduces while lost in the moment – think Bjork meets Mum trekking in some mythical enchanted woods – best thing here though is ‘a girl of skin colour blanket 2’ – don‘t ask us. Apparently there‘s an album doing the rounds put out by Clay of Japan – think we really need to nab ourselves a copy. Elsewhere Robin Saville of ISAN fame has his new album due for admiring listens early May – he album follows in quick pursuit his recent back to front split with Dollboy. Last up and certainly worth getting orders in early for to save disappointment – new recordings from Serafina Steer to coincide with her Japanese tour – only 200 of these all housed in (we are led to believe) a Ben Javens (see ‘Binary Oppositions’) designed book styled sleeve with obi-strips. Don’t say you weren’t warned. Further info from

Silverfall ‘for you’ (tired horse). Hells bells – we’ve actually managed to lose both the press release and the sleeve for this one – so no juicy information to be had here – but then when the tunes are this good the last thing you need are pointless anecdotes as to how the band always floss after eating and which trendy coffee bar they all met at to encourage a scribe to pad out a review of a record that has about as much relevance to the music as train spotting lists to a non geek. Ah well we appear to fallen off the path somewhat – back to the job in hand. Silverfall. We must admit to being somewhat smitten by this their debut release, the Yorkshire based trio craft out emotion engaging sumptuous folds of noire laced tender pop on ‘for you’ – adopting the silken motifs of the early 90’s Bristol scene – most notably Portishead, this nocturnal love note coos sophisticatedly amid disarming frosted sheens of Edwin Moses styled 70’s accented strings while simultaneously investing a rear guard lushness of achingly demurring subtle jazz nuances all seductively betwixt in chilled out and laid back environs. One for the shy night owls we think. ’Waiting’ disposes of the caressing studio arrangements to apply a more organic indie rock persona, coolly strummed riffs, coiling rhythms which after 3 minutes of slowly lulling you in hypnotically suddenly flick on the switch at 3.17 and get tastily funked in a Charlatans type of way though ultimately it’s the Cranberries whose records it’ll have you reaching for in a flash.

Herzoga ‘nice car’ (we like danger). Le bollocks – as the French would no doubt call it. Initially appearing on our radar following their stunning split with To the Bones via Org (see missive 145), the Stoke based trio and self described ‘wrong poppers’ return to the fray with this stunningly caustic retuned late 70’s three tracker. Formed just over a year ago these angulated dudes are already causing a fair amount of buzz amid the underground cognoscenti for their fraught and frantic wired austere funk grooves. The frayed monochromatic sheen applied to the grittily grinding ‘nice car’ superbly shoulders its way into territories more associated with Bristol’s Playwrights and with that ostensibly comes the tension torn dialects of the Gang of Four, wire in the dislocated and detached persona of early career Mark E Smith, the sapping numbed drudgery of a head drilling corkscrew bass groove that anxiously anchors the flotillas of septic bleached white funk riffs, some neat nods to classic era Pere Ubu and Swell Maps and then at 2.22 onwards smother it all with some nifty pinches of Joy Division’s ’dead souls’. Really can it get any better – in a word – yes. On the rampant ‘blood school’ the underlying template is still the same only racked up several notches in terms of aggression and panic strewn divisiveness, rounding up on you like a stalker catching its pray in a dead end, both volatile, visceral and agitated ’n’ austere, this blistering baby is an overloading mass of tension wrapped paranoia set to a crunching rapid fire regimental underpin and playfully braided by some loveable Colin ‘XTC’ Moulding styled piss taking Stones harmonies and deftly applied ‘Doolittle’ era Pixies touches. The darkly wearisome drip effecting ‘it takes an age’ rounds up the set, a glowering fusion of disturbed Fall-esque waywardness metered into the angular matrix of the much missed Left Hand and laced with a hefty side served wrapping at the finale of some stunningly parched wig flipping post punk pyrotechnics. How can it be anything other than the joint single of the missive.

La Herzoga video goes something like this……

The Conspirators with Judy Dyble ‘one sure thing’ (Transcend). Now here’s something really special for the folk purists out there, yes you weren’t misreading the guest presence of Judy Dyble – blimey even we had to rub our eyes after a few double takes. Seems Ms Dyble has been back on the scene for a few years now with word of her return quietly spreading – there’s been a new album in the shape of ‘enchanted garden’ which we’ll have to check soon-ish. For those of you wondering who the hell Judy Dyble is – well during the course of the happening late 60’s Brit folk movement she was one of the leading female vocalists around flitting (though often not of her own choice) from group to group – associations with Fairport Convention, Trader Horne (a band named after the late John Peel’s nanny), a pre King Crimson outfit with Fripp and the Incredible String Band to name just a few ensured her legend. Enter North Yorkshire based five piece the Conspirators whose cover of ’one sure thing’ – the old Fairport Convention nugget – had been a staple part of their live shows. Arrangements were made through a series of contacts and calls pretty soon coming to fruition on this spanking baby. Still possessing that mystical quiver (and sounding not unlike Curved Air’s Sonja Christina) Dyble takes centre stage on this indie-cized retread of the 60’s folk pop classic, sounding not a million miles in terms of texture and appreciation for the retro as Richard Green’s Somatics, from the initial dissipating pastoral flurries this baby soon sheds its skin to reveal a superb blending of razor sharp indie instincts (with its panic stricken urgently up-tempo riff jabs) lushly dipped and braided by the softening psyche shimmer tones and the bountiful harnessing of preserved flower pop sensibilities which sumptuously coalesce to provide for a walloping display of radio jarring frenzy. Though it’s the flip side ’take me to your leader’ that proves to be the main obvious choice cut here here. Featuring Genevieve resuming lead vocals and Dyble applying backing harmonies, this storm laced and strutting sci-fi b-movie blister bomb recalls the candy coated power pop prowess of the much missed London quartet Brand Violet, a humungous rattling rollercoaster of a cut that shimmies and swerves with a mutant twang forcefulness that literally leaves scorched tyre marks across the turntable all despatched in dance floor decimating detail. Quite crucial really. ’connected’ rounds up the set and without doubt in our humbled opinion the strongest and most touching cut of the trio. Ghostly and spectral, this silken hazed slice of soft psyche witchcraft achingly unfurls revealing a rarefied milky and mercurial beauty that taps directly into the more measured and introspective affairs of the aforementioned Somatics back catalogue while suggestively nodding towards latter career Quickspace, replete with an abundance of effects laden shimmers (Autumnal Leaves anyone?) this cutie like some enchanted spectre whispers its love lorn mantra in your ear and in a flash is gone. Irresistible stuff.

And here’s some archive footage of Ms Dyble with the legendary Fairport Convention……

Conil ‘strange part of the country’ (great hare). We’ll say right from the outset that this release is exceptional. Okay there I’ve got off the fence and hung my hat up on the post. Conil are a London based quartet who craft out momentous slabs of bruised and blistered overtures of sapping forlorn introspection. These songs emerge from secret drinking dens untraceable in daylight to nestle in the shadows of woodland glades shyly recoiling from sunlight. An album under their belts in the shape of the recently released ‘a strange part of the country’ which I’m certain we’ve just received and if not will be no doubt suffering sleepless nights until we source as our own. Featuring a guest appearance on double bass from Danny Thompson – itself a coup – Danny was of course part of Nick Drake’s assembled cast of musicians and produced by Tchad Blake whose credits include working with a positive who’s who of the entertainment industry including American Music Club, Pearl Jam, Bonnie Raitt, Elvis Costello and Tom Wait’s the latter of whom lead singer Conil has oft been compared vocal wise. Sounding as though his larynx has been distilling in kegs of age old bourbon, his dusted blues meets seasoned travelling countryman intones add a matured depth and a sense of gritted resonance to the melodies that beautifully brood away beneath – lying somewhere between Steve Earle, Tom Waits and Gabriel Minnikin its provides a distinctive feature that is immeasurably fused superbly by the darkly penetrative arrangements within. A curious release it has to be said that is simultaneously able to be withdrawn and lonesome and yet celebratory and exhilarated at the spectacle of the wide open vastness of prairie lined landscapes. ’strange part of the country’ is a smoking gem – a disquietingly beautiful and dignified Appalachian campfire hoe down of sorts that could easily be envisaged as slipping out into the rain sodden night time streets of a members only jazz bar. Nothing around right now compares to its pensive, punctuated mercurial elegance, this babe sighs amid a delicious brew of classically calibrated country, gnarled punch drunk jazz and intoxicating noire-esque hybrids – absolute class. The free-forming ’dog meat stew’ loosens up on the tension to exact some sumptuous 70’s motifs that veers not so far from a subtle woodland inspired country blues jazz tinged axis though sprightly littered and laced with some prime cut kernels of wig flipped acid dipped riffing though for us it’s the mellowing and emotionally tortured ‘yours between’ which rounds up the pack that proves to be the best moment of the CD. A simply crushing masterpiece, sparse and Spartan in texture but cut to the bone in terms of intensity that nurtures a nocturnal still of the night thoughtfulness and piercingly dwelling introspection. Will floor all oncoming listeners. Joint single of the missive.

Severe: zero ‘weapons grade’ (self released). No beating about the bush with these dudes. Severe:Zero are a Devon based trio who it seems have a devilish knack of nailing down punk styled pogoing nuggets at the drop of an hat. ‘weapons grade’ is the trio’s official debut release though there is a gig only album ‘dead air’ kicking about – a few tunes from which are currently being showcased on their my space site. ‘weapons grade’ sees them comfortably at home on the melodic end of the emo (how I hate that term) punk pop scale, more Mega City 4 than Green Day this unrelenting razor sharp power charged cutie is awash with tear arsing guitars, staggered stop start dynamics and an anthem styled presence replete with a chorus hook that – once heard – insidiously pings around the headspace like a demented pinball. That said though its not even their best track – that honour goes to the tear welling bitter sweet ‘global disaster’ which you’ll find on the aforementioned my space site had us fondly scurrying for our copy of Chron Gen’s ‘nowhere to run’ full length which regular observers to these musings will attest are in our eyes the bollocks.

Pete Brame ‘the alcoholic’s love song’ (impact music). Introducing himself to the record buying fraternity via the snazzy and deceptively catchily cool ‘wake up’ in the summer of 2006 (a record we sadly missed out on), Mr Brane has spent the time since diligently honing his craft in the studio laying down a body of tracks that will soon see the light of day via his debut full length ’my secret suicide’. this three track taster – which features two versions – (’radio edit’ and ’album edit’) of ’the alcoholic’s love song’ reveals a sharpened maturity at play with Brame’s song craft. ’the alcoholic’s love song’ aches with a murmuring passion, both mellow and majestic, this bitterly scarred ode to a love lost draws its obvious symbolism to the plight faced by a sobering tee tolling ex alcoholic. Measured, refined, touching and tearful, this wounded acoustic beauty resonates with the same elegiac softness as David Bridie’s ’tender trap’ and Stillman’s ’weightless’ EP. Though awkward as we are the releases most defining moment comes in the shape of ’lost for good’ – braided with a more upbeat disposition but nevertheless still armed with an exacting emotional poke in the eye, this freewheeling crisply crafted breezily tumbling cherry stone comprises a gorgeously conceived melodic treat of interweaving and intertwining canter like piano follies and shuffling acoustics silkily decorated with delicately whispery aspects that to these ears are not so far removed from the tender turns of the much missed Pellumair – certainly does it for us all said and done.

And those of you wondering what David Bridie’s ‘tender trap’ sounds like, this little babe caught our attention via an episode of the Aussie adult soap ‘secret life of us’ a few years back…..

While you can catch samples of Stillman’s work via

Wojtek Godzisz ‘Beltane’ (tiger trap). Been a while since we cause to hang out the bunting for either a Tigertrap release or something new from ex Symposium mainman Wojtek Godsisz, so you can imagine our immense delight when just this morning this must have two track affair dropped through our letter box. The exhilaratingly windswept and wide screen effected ‘Beltane’ is a storm rushing Gaelic crusade charging over the hill, featuring furious fiddles and a traditionally sourced bracing medieval hoedown persona replete with turret towering triumphant fanfares of mulled wine soaked battle scarred euphoria that to these ears sounds not unlike New Model Army in a face off with the Fatima Mansions nibbling ever so subtly at the melodic frame of ’God rest ye merry gentlemen’. ’Silbury Hill’ features on the flip – if this doesn’t give you palpitations and an insistent desire to tap your foot frantically then nothing will, lush with corkscrewing fiddles (which may or may not be accordions or balalaikas who knows – we’ll check) this throbbing barnstorming eastern bloc folk banshee is rooted with regimental wraps and an infectious Cossack like free spirited persona that should at the very least strike a chord or three with those who were much smitten with the Wedding Present off shoot the Ukranians. Quite essential if you ask me.

And here’s the Matthew Sanger produced video that accompanies the single –

Magazine wise – blimey we’ve gone magazine mad this month

Clash #24 – features scallywags Hot Chip on the cover, inside its your usual music, fashion and style gubbins with an extended section on bands to watch for (yawn) – a spotlight on Liverpool la Capital of Culture don’t you know and something Norwegian New Wave. Elsewhere the delectably dippy Alison Goldfrapp is interviewed, Madness are covered and those cutely formed imps the Envelopes feature within. Oh yea a rare and very brief Q and A with the mercurial Sparks and ‘12 things you didn’t know about Radiohead’ (the latter of which I bet has got you gagging and planning to camp outside your local Borders awaiting their opening tomorrow – you know you people are strange). No cover mount CD I’m afraid which personally was a sure fire inducement to have us purchasing even if they were a little hit, miss and obvious with the selections.

Classic Rock #116 – fast becoming one of our favourite reads at the moment, this issue features a rare interview with the Cult’s Billy Duffy, an even rarer one with Michael Schenker talking about his battle against booze and the road back to legend – while elsewhere there are features on 60’s lost boys Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels and an extended and excellently written piece on Moby Grape.

The Word #61 – Nick Cave cover marks the 5th anniversary of this consistently entertaining read that always manages to shy away from being insistently forceful in terms of what you should listen, watch or read. Five years – phew1 Remember issue one like it was yesterday, the self depreciating journal – which incidentally in this issue – even takes le piss out of itself via its regular 20 best / worst feature which for one month only recalls the back slapping merits and wincing ‘did that really happen’ highs and lows of the magazines back issue catalogue. Elsewhere there’s the usual broad spectrum of talent to be found on their regularly informative cover mounted CD’s – this issue includes offerings from Magnet, Beach House, the Autumn Defense, Luther Russell and much, much more. Within the magazine itself there are features / interviews with comic writer Alan Moore, a spot focusing on the plight of EMI and the major record industry in general, film critic Mark Kermode, found in the attic focuses on the much missed ‘alternative‘ music rag Sounds, the reclaimed B-52‘s hog the centre spot with a five page spotlight, Nick Cave, all your usual trusted books, DVD‘s and CD reviews while the parting 99% true gathers together 19 anecdotes about radio deejay‘s. .

The Wire #289 – in sharp contrast to the Word’s laid back casualness the esteemed Wire still requires the aid of an encyclopaedic knowledge going back to the year dot and a hefty dictionary with which to decipher the reviews with – even their letters page is perplexing. This issue has saxophonist John Butcher peering from the cover, inside there are interviews with Valet, Autechre (a bit of a rarity in itself) – Andrew WK chances his hand against the pitted wits of the Invisible Jukebox and emerges from the other side relatively unscathed – the Primer takes a short savbbatical while epiphanies has Simon Hampson extolling the virtues of those imps Atari Teenage Riot and with good reason. Next months issue features the celebrated 19th instalment of the ongoing Wire Tapper series – leaked details suggest appearances by Talvin Singh, XA Cute and Illusion of Safety among the usually stellar cast of below the radar tweakers.

And that young people is your lot for a few days – back at the weekend with another my space special featuring loads of tasty gear strangely enough mostly from the Ghost Box imprint – how strange. Anyhow thanks to all those who’ve made these ramblings possible – I could name names but we feel the protecting of the innocent is duly called for. As per usual sporadic updates via – don’t be offended if you don’t get an immediate response to friend requests – I do listen to everything and pack it off with a review though the latter sometimes takes a while.

Till next time take good care of yourselves and remember a record is for life unless of course it’s a Robbie Williams one in which by applying some neat creativity it can double as a tasty wax ashtray
(really did I just say that – must be that bang on the head)


aired February 2008

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