you don’t have to be fashionable – volume 7

I’m certain we’ve about our person, a message from the with a messy head folks of Paris, France a note announcing the imminent release of their annual head hitting hip hugging ‘you don’t have to be fashionable’ compilation. Typical of these these things that was a few weeks ago, the set is out in the public domain right now hopefully picking up decent interest, as for us, why we are still scratching around for the message, knowing us we’ll probably find it just in time for next years appearance. Anyhow, as said Volume 7 is upon us, as ever a wonderful gathering of the disappointed, the disaffected and the mildly damaged, kind of like a disconnected and broken Sarah records feast if you must and an all the more attractive listening feast as a result. Okay so here’s the deal, because we’ve thus far been a let down, we’ll split this review in two, with a promise to return later in the week, all of which means we mention six track now and the rest, say Friday, agreed? Where to start then, well I’m guessing no better way than with the parting Wonderflu, whose ‘singalong’ is pretty much just that, all the time blessed with a slightly out of focused wonkiness that has you thinking that maybe the master tapes have been a tad slightly overcooked and mistakenly left out in the sun to warp, over course the sounds a very much on the Nick Lowe / Jonathon Richman spectrum in their scuffed lofi power pop appeal. I’m thinking our summer playlist has its first entrant in the guise of Bing Selfish’s delightful shoe shuffling sortie ’14:15 In Off-On-A Tangent Park’, something that really does whiff of they might be giants in cahoots with white town being retooled with an airy summertime trippiness by John Lurie. Another one pressing for inclusion on our summer listening tape is the rather catchy and affectionate tropical sea drift of Kou Keri Kou’s lazy eyed laid back lilt ‘Al Infierno’ whose joyful chiming radiance had us much minded of those late 80’s nights pews pulled up to the transistor listening to Peel n’ Kershaw playing the 4 brothers. What can we say about Tampopo’s ‘Bobsleigh Bop’, an utterly disarming distillation of the Ramones ‘blitzkrieg bop’ given a fuzzy one two that’s seasoned with a Jesus and Mary Chain tang where it they were fronted by a somewhat downcast Ted Chippington. Listen out for the little ‘whoops’ on this ‘un, really is quite adorable, by the excellently named Greetings From The Beloved Ghosts, this be ‘Out Of Sight’ a gorgeous slice of casual indie rambling which in truth to these ears, has a repeat button appealing that has you imagining some secret thought lost studio soiree happened upon back in the day by an after the pubs close Hefner and Pulp. Rounding up this particular visit with a little something that ought to suitably wrap you in a lulling sleepy headedness, this is the utterly beguiling ‘the spectral king’ by Eiyn Sof, a woodcut folk fancy seductively trimmed in a misty mystical wooziness the type of which that draws beautifully and breathlessly, an adorable romancing kinship with a youthful Stealing Sheep.

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