Archiv – Singled Out – Missive 31 ….

Archive posting originally published on the losing today site …… February 2004 …

Missive 31
Singled Out 31

Mam….he’s playing them records again….17th February 2004
Need new input……………………………..21st February 2004

Dedicated to (as always) Kelly and Mark (always missing you, but never forgetting).

No news this week, well no that’s a lie, there was, of course there was news, otherwise there wouldn’t be papers and things, no I just can’t be bothered being bothered. No the fact of the matter is that the ever decreasing Losing Today (what was a shed, now a cloak room) record playing room has been beset by sub zero temperatures, in fact so cold is it that a family of squatting penguins have upped sticks and flipped their flipper things in search of more warming climbs, now if I didn’t know better I’d say our landlord had moved everything in to a reasonably sized fridge, which thinking about it might explain why the light goes on every time someone opens the door.

As you’ve probably gathered I’m kinda up to date with this missive, so make the most of this new found attention to making promises that I’ve managed to keep as this is bound to be a first and last, but we’ll see ye of little faith.

Okay magazine developments, well same as last week so if you’re a little mystified or might have missed something please feel free to check out the preamble to the last missive, although I have to say that I’ve seen experimental proofs and everything looks ring ding doodly doo, whatever that may mean. As always drop me a line at or Andrea at As said previously considerations for the cover CD are still being accepted so if you’d like to put yourself forward then please get in touch ASAP to either of us as we are collating material for the end of the month.

Currently setting the hi-fi on fire album wise are the new releases by left hand (their third long player no less and a killer it is too), merzbow (which incidentally comes with a lead lined helmet, or at least should do), space (remember them, Tommy and Co are back after a long weekend following the World Cup, 1998’s that is), two albums from the Purple Hearts (remember them, mods who were so cool that punks liked them), the Stands (who count as their biggest fan, a certain Noel Gallagher), Broadzilla (the female equivalent of Electric Eel Shock who are caning all and sundry within earshot of Detroit) and last but not least, Tacoma Radar (whose album is so beautiful we’ve been literally struck dumb). Also those Smiths completists among you could do yourselves no wrong by investing in the brand spanking new Matinee compilation entitled ‘Romantic and Square is Hip and Aware’ which collects together 12 swooning cover versions of old Marr / Morrissey favourites by some of the catchiest dudes around and featuring among other the delightful Pines, the Lucksmiths, Simpatico and the Liberty Ship, believe you will not be disappointed.

Okay without further ado the singles this is the first of two quick fire Singled Out’s the next is due first thing Saturday and then it’s a week or so off, starting just to be awkward with a magazine very close to our hearts…….

Ptolemaic Terrascope ‘Issue 34’. Now I’m a big kid at heart, aside wearing short pants and loitering around sweet shops reading comics nothing gets me excited more than the prospect of holding a spanking new copy of the very wonderful Ptolemaic Terrascope, without doubt the only thing you need when it comes to all things psyche and folk. The old Terra boys have been pitching their keen eyed observations in the form of well written, nay educational, articles for well over a decade now whilst managing to hang by their teeth juggling records and fending off the wolves at the door to provide the best ‘illustrated occasional’ that a shoestring budget can provide. This particular edition has features and interviews with Electric Prunes, Lazily Spun, Steve Wynn plus much, much more within the heaving contents of it’s 76 pages. Even if your not convinced the cheeky blighters even throw in a 14 track CD that includes two unreleased cuts from the criminally under-rated Bevis Frond and as though that’s not spoiling you enough three ultra rare live rehearsal tracks from 60’s San Franciscans Country Weather the latter of which ‘I am getting closer’ is a real bonafide corker, all this even before you get to considering the uplifting splendour of the spacey pastoral echoes of Jennifer Gentle’s ‘Verde Mostro’, divine is not a word strong enough to describe it’s beauty, alone worth the admission price. Available at all the hippest record emporiums, buy and help save an institution.

Depth Affect ‘Mesquin’ EP (Autres Directions in music). Okay this is the third release, or at least the third release that we are aware of, for the Nantes based internet label Autres Directions in Music, the previous releases in case you were wondering being a pair of wonderful albums from former Static Caravan stars Melodium and Dudley, reviews of which will be forthcoming shortly. All releases are downloadable gratis from the site or they can, for a very small fee, save you the job and do it for you, and let’s face it you can’t argue with that, almost like owning a gift horse let alone looking it in the eye.
Depth Affect the subject artists of the third release are French duo Remy Charrier and David Bideau and this delightful four track EP is their debut release having previously graced the electronic world with their remix of Melodium’s ‘Terminus’. Depth Affect’s approach to this ever evolving genre is to wrap electronic elements around hip hop beats, that may sound disturbing on paper, agreed, but it works perfectly as these quartet of cuts bear testament to. Opening with the dreaming collage ‘Mesquin Eye’ a lullaby-esque feast of twinkling celestial symphonies dusted and gently prized by bustling beats, initially shuffling icily with ISAN appeal it soon manoeuvres elegantly with verve into Yello territories, shimmeringly sweet. ‘Dialect’ provides a more tarnished edge to the equation; still belying nimble milky electronics, though this time forceful beats and the inclusion of rapping vocals take centre stage to instil a muscular presence to the proceedings. ‘Not Forgotten’ which is included on the CD in its audio and video form toys gently with an Arthur Baker / New Order vibe as though done by Boards of Canada being helped out by Plaid while the parting shot ‘Mesquin Eye’ as remixed by Vertigo imparts a superbly sheened take on KLF’s ‘Last train to Transcentral’ and imagines both Aphex Twin and Jean Michel Jarre in a studio face off. Certainly worth investigating.

New Tellers / EEM ‘Split’ (Static Caravan). Not content with being the most consistent label of last year, those Static dudes just don’t let up, refusing to give the competition a chance to draw breath they bound in not with one top of the drawer release but two, and damn their genius, both are housed on the same piece of wax, and pressed on red vinyl. Can we ask for more? Continuing the split series, Static deliver up the best double-barrelled pop fix heard round these parts in many a long year. The New Tellers described by Geoff Static as the ‘Soft Bulletin led by Gram Parsons’ is an assessment that isn’t far of the mark, it’s a warming vision of simplistic softened tones that breathe a timeless charm to floor and confound the listener. In short ‘No Control’ will dump you on the seat of your pants, ingenious stuff wafting in on a summer breeze conjuring a dizzying concoction of hazy mid 70’s American dreams while lazily snoozing heavily induced on the aroma of tingling high grade psych pop, think of a streetwise Supertramp doing ‘LA’ era Beach Boys. EEM or Electric Eye Machine to give them their full name aren’t content to sit quietly on the flip playing support slot. ‘Flashback Panic Attack’ is an admirable portrayal of sweetly tear stained melancholia. Recalling the magnificent and oozing grandeur of the Dream Academy as though on this occasion being left on slow cook by Lenola with Toshack Heighway in the background left working out exactly what sauce goes with such a smouldering dish, ‘Flashback’ is heavy on emotion and instant on the senses, a veritable slice of soothing ear candy. Strictly limited to 500 copies and pressed on blood red wax, as if you need any further persuasion. Deputy single of the missive.

Airport Girl ‘Salinger Wrote’ (Where it’s at is where you are). If we had our way Airport Girl would by law be forced to release a record every week, as it is we have to idly sit around counting the days between releases while pestering post men and such like. Airport Girl hail from Nottingham and hark back to the days of sensitive meaningful pop, their last EP ‘Do you dream in colour’ was such an emotionally breaking release that doctors up and down the country are still treating patrons suffering from the after shocks. This time around things are grittier, leaving behind the comforts of trembling pop the Airport kids seek out producer Rob Ferrier known for his work with Clinic, ‘Salinger Wrote’ starts out quite serene but soon mutates into a riotous collage of restless angular riffs and heart racing dynamics that are belted and hammered into shape by a soaring wall of sound backdrop, wounded and bitter and to these ears recalling a younger and roughed up sibling of Moose’s ‘Boy’. Flip over for dub-tastic ‘Emmaweg House’ and before you ask, no we don’t know what it means either. By far the superior side, mainly because it’s totally unexpected, imagine Dreadzone squaring up to the Modern Lovers and the Zutons to retread ‘Egyptian Reggae’ in the process leaving the Camels and Fez’s behind and instead instilling upon it a bass line so meaty it can be heard from here to Zanzibar. Rollicking good fun, essential as if you needed telling.

Headquarters ‘Let’s solve some crime’ (Unlabel). Limited to just 200 copies and by all accounts going fast with the first 50 pressings coming included with a personalised embossed metal plate, (don’t ask). Those of you who like your tunes a little more dislocated and detached would do well to find anything currently kicking around to top this damaged debut. Headquarters are a chirpy quartet from Tunbridge Wells and this two-track calling card is a certifiable bruiser of some measure. Blending, or should that be bleeding, a caustic solution that encompasses a gruelling math rock facet, ‘Let’s solve some crime’ is a fearsome cut bedevilled by a tensely drawn out dynamic, unfriendly and uncomfortable and courting with a seriously frayed stop start process that would give many of their peers operating within the same genre a massive seizure and that’s before we get round to mentioning the seriously edgy lead guitar thread that mooches ominously in the shadows. Flip over for the preferred cut the stinging ‘Surfin USSR’ which wallows in it’s own spiteful agitation, crooked arrangements rub coarsely against sparsely woven lulls endowing a friction based undercurrent that comes across not a million miles from Storm and Stress or maybe a more passive Shellac, a band to watch without doubt.

Jason and the Astronauts ‘Burn down the boys school’ (Unlabel). Again as with the Headquarters single this is strictly limited to 200 pressings each one comes with a unique band photograph showing the Astronaut kids out and about in their hometown of Tunbridge Wells. Currently finishing off their debut album. You probably won’t be to surprised to learn that we here know absolutely diddly squat about Jason and the Astronauts but then do you really have to know all a bands ins and outs, the record usually suffices, mind you that said its probably a good thing as we’d probably be inclined to kidnap them and have them do impromptu street concerts round our gaff in the wee small hours of the morning. ‘Burn down the boys school’ is math rock yes, well of a sort, ripped, twisted and hammered into submission math rock, imagine 5style kicked into touch by a particularly un-playful Fugazi and then scared shitless by the Cravats, close but then even that doesn’t get to the true heart of the Astronauts sound, (totally) wired and deranged I think we’ll settle on, oh yeah with malicious guitars to boot. Flip the disc and you get the daunting and cheerfully titled ‘Nice night for a knife fight’ kinda cheese and port party space jazz with Mark E Smith for the best part until someone realises they haven’t cranked up the guitars and then all hell breaks loose, troubled stuff indeed, but loveable with it. Best cut of the lot though is the spacey ‘Shuffle’ which furrows a similar austere post punk path as the very excellent Playwrights and which sounds to these ears like the naughty gremlins breaking in to Tubeway Army’s ‘Replicas’ sessions to cut a mean groove with the aid of XTC’s front line. Another for the perfect record collection methinks.

Stuffy / the Fuses ‘Evel Knievel’ (May Go Zero). A quick return for the label that thrilled us to pieces with the new Magoo single featured in these very pages last time out. This time it’s the turn of the equally effervescent Stuffy and the Fuses who mould pop soft centres to hardcore brittle shells, a killer of a single, ‘Evel Knievel’ rumbles into action with a bass line swiped from beneath the Pixies noses and then just runs in all directions all at once shedding fragments of Placebo and Bowie which hide cowering amid the almighty storm gathering that bubbles and pops throughout the songs duration, a dashing display of discordant events that’s likely to have the hi-fi smouldering and you the listener suffering from whiplash. Over on the flip side things get mellower by comparison with the brooding ‘In the River’ swelling with emotional turbulence it trashes both Travis and Coldplay in the loud / quiet stakes sounding as it does like a particularly intimately revealing ‘Sleeping Pills’ era Brett Anderson, quite beautiful all said and done. Both tracks will feature on the forthcoming debut album entitled ‘Join me or Die’ due out on Wrath records.

Blue Jay Way ‘The Non-International’ EP (Electric Breeze). One of those kind of releases that simply fizzes and pops with each passing play. Blue Jay Way you feel place quality song writing over fashion statements which is fine by us, so it’s no hardcore, no post punk, no revivalist electro pop, no garage (punk or otherwise), so what are we left with now the cupboards bare, well good old fashioned songs that’s what, and before you start groaning just let me tell you that this is packed full of subtly honed jangling guitars that point visibly to very early Trashcan Sinatras / The High and okay maybe the more thoughtful moment from the LA’s superb canon with a spot of Aztec Camera thrown in for good measure. Formed at the start of 2002 and taking their name from a Beatles track, Blue Jay Way court with a timeless framework that has simplistic breezy pop marrying itself to feel good country folk rock, loaded with hooks galore this Hampshire based quartet certainly have a keen ear for a well paced tune. Leading off with ‘Non international nobody’ primed with skipping melodies that swerve and dip wave like and yet maintains a lazy eyed focus. Personally it’s on ‘How love should be’ that the band come into their own, Byrds-esque softness greets the start of the track laying a reclining summery edge that’s soon pulled apart as the pace hottens, lulling clipped 60’s vibes that recall the more sedate moments found looming large on old Stone Roses b-sides. Best of the set though is the run out cut ‘Wasted’ short sharpened chords rustle relentlessly reminiscent of the more visceral elements of the Sarah related stable in particular Hey Paulette / the Orchids and the Caretaker Race, one for the tender starry eyed lovers.

LKWRM ‘Thirty years of Concentrated Thought’ (Self Released). Described by the band themselves as ‘noisepostpoprockish’ and yes we know it was probably said with their tongues firmly in their collective cheeks, but all said and done there not far from the mark. To date this lot have managed to sneak onto the recent Claire records compilation ‘Several bands galore’ Volume 2 with a song called ‘Mogwai fear Lukewarm’ (chuckle you may but they could be right) as well as releasing a four track EP entitled ‘First little LKWRM in the world’ which hopefully is still floating in the ether otherwise I’m going to be mightily pissed for missing it. Add to that a prestigious call up to open for the mighty Einsturzende Neubauten next month in Copenhagen and before you’ve even heard any of the four tracks lurking on this EP, you instinctively know there’s something special here. LKWRM are based in Sweden, Malmo to be precise, and while it seems to the outside world as though everyone in a band from Scandinavia are doing garage punk to varying degrees of ability, this happy little lot trot out with their My Bloody Valentine hearts firmly on show and proud with it. The sounds as you can imagine are caustic, and yes, poppy, poppy that is if you patiently persist and scratch below the surface. To say this release is awesome is to call Everest a bit hilly, this is after all 23 minutes of unadulterated sonic pop that shimmers, screeches and gazes longingly shoe wise. ‘How about art?’ takes what seems like an age to appear, the distant sounds of drone waves usher in with an expectant guile before the rush of swarming guitars kick in to create a compelling and immovable wall of sound. Taking their cue from the Boo Radleys circa ‘Every Heaven’ LKWRM suffocate gently lulling pop motifs with sand blast effect feedback to teeter perilously by the thinnest of threads between safety and chaos. ‘Die, Satan, Die’ a title befitting bands with spandex aspirations, follows in similar pursuit perfect pop detuned, bleached and polluted amid rains of searing white noise, if anything this has a feel of Dinosaur Jr’s ‘Green Mind’ and provides if anything a more muscular and, dare I say it, grooving element to the bands artistry. ‘THMG’ provides a moment of calm amid all the angular attrition found elsewhere, a numbing droned out instrumental that acts as brief respite before the challenging noise core of the engaging and thoroughly demonic ‘Radiation is not the cause of the mutation’ flies in to flatten into submission whatever’s still standing. Without doubt the EP’s best moment as the LKWRM boys take the epic high ground to conjure up something that dips between the majesty of Led Zeppelin but with Kevin Shield’s sticky fingers all over it. All in all a scorching release.

The Knife ‘Kino’ (Rabid). And the Swedish backlash continues to gather pace and time to dig out those swoon mats while your there. Just when you think it’s safe to play records again along comes this little curio. The Knife are Swedish brother and sister duo Karin and Olof Dreijer, who’ve been described elsewhere as creators of ‘emotional electronic punk pop’. This mighty damn fine 4 track 10-inch is their first foray outside their native homeland and acts as a taster for their eponymous debut album to be released next month. A deeply satisfying and sometimes unsettling array of wayward arrangements with an unhinged pop pretext, sometimes dippy, sometimes haunting yet overall beguiling, the Knife plough the abstract linear margins of pop’s over-mined grotto, notable in the main for Karin’s engaging breathless vocals which wispily float above the melodies imparting a charm pitted between madness and magical and acting as a centre point between Kate Bush and a particularly animated Bjork. ‘Kino’ is deeply set with an Far Eastern vibe that sounds like the Frank Chickens exchanging blows with Pop Off Tuesday over a soundtrack borne out of a cross mutation of Anneka’s ‘Japanese Boy’ and McLaren’s ‘Madam Butterfly’ with the brothers Mael creased up in the corner stifling an overwhelming desire to laugh themselves to death, as bad as it might sound on paper this dippy ditty soon manifests into the best slice of Euro disco put to tape since Front 242’s ‘Masterhit’, a devil of a track all said and done. ‘Bird’ is another cut of oddball electronica that swerves and dives glazed by a deftly plucked lead guitar itself found grazing serenely above a minimalist rumba drum machine beat which leaves Karin’s vocals to chatter surreal babble. ‘N.Y. Hotel’ if pressed, with a pistol to my head, I would have to admit is my favourite cut, an all to brief haunting ode that features by the sounds of things, the much under used theremin which admittedly always goes down well at our gaff and supplemented by a Nico-ish vocal, testy and tasty stuff. Essential as though you didn’t gather and with that the Single of the Missive.

Paul B. Davis ‘Enter the Mystical Faggot’ (Frank Wobbly and Sons). Following the curious with the quite frankly bizarre. This is release number three for the newly formed splinter project from Wobblyhead records. Six 7-inch singles are planned for this short and brief series, each limited to 250 pressings only and housed in generic company die cut sleeves. Paul B. Davis takes time out from 8 bit construction set to go playing with his Atari and Melodica and returns from the playroom with this exotic platter entitled ‘Enter the Mystical Faggot’ a soothing, albeit warped and loopy appraisal of early 70’s lift music, okay that’s unfair, shall we settle for lounge electronica wherein the memories of the soundtracks that used to accompany the old television test-card are re-run and endowed with a jazzy space vibe that’d make Stereolab weep and which for all intents and purposes sounds like Raymond Scott locked in Gerry Anderson’s toy cupboard. Delightfully eerie though keep an ear out for the speeded up nod to Heaven 17’s ‘We don’t need this fascist groove thing’. And just when you thought music couldn’t have you scurrying for the safety that the back off the sofa could offer flip over for the menacing ‘The mystical faggot shops organic’ which has the presence of Penguin Café Orchestra being hunted in the night by the Cybermen doing daring dance moves to a soundtrack that has all the resonance and grit of Add N to X struck down by the groove bug. Purchase on sight.

Innerstance Beatbox / Cash Bishop ‘Split’ (Frank Wobbly and Sons). Release number 4 in the same series features a split between Innerstance Beatbox and Cash Bishop. IB kick in with ‘I am a truck’ and when I say that those of you with kids under the age of five years old should beat a hasty path to track this down because the little ones will lap this up, then I do not mean that derogatory. Incorporating scratch techniques and underpinning the whole set with the most bouncing rumble not heard round these parts since the infamous circus escape of Nellie the Elephant, the IB boys get under way with a bit of playground sampling and find Mr Ed moonlighting as a talking truck, daft as it may seem but its addictive as hell. A modicum of normality returns on the flip side where lurk Cash Bishop who on ‘Promise’ treat us to some stuttering hip hop rhythms and 80’s Art of Noise-isms with the Belle Stars and McLaren’s ‘Buffalo Girls’ caught haunting the mix, a bit of grower to be honest.

The Pony’s ‘Prosthetic Head’ (In the Red). More kids with guitars except in this instance one of them has managed to remember soul. The Pony’s hail from Chicago and could just be, I say, could just be the best Detroit sounding band not actually from Detroit. With an album in the pipe line produced by the eminent Jim Diamond and due any day entitled ‘Laced with Romance’ along with two well received singles for Contaminated and Big Neck under their belts (both of which we’ll have to track down) the Pony’s whip up the ante several notches with this double barrelled killer of a single (both tracks incidentally not on the forthcoming long player). ‘Prosthetic Head’ starts out with a snaking guitar that’s more at home in the Sun Studios backed by what appears to be Roy Rodgers sound effects, this cutie just kicks ass for the fun of it, nasal vocals that veer from calmly spoken to a manic screech at the drop of a hat, drenched in swirling 60’s fairground keyboards and fuzzing guitars and marking itself under the bracket of agitated pop serrated to pieces by jabbing new wave hooks, kinda like Richard Hell doing the Cars or maybe the Motors only better and clipped with the type of monumental hooks that just scream play me again. The far superior ‘How does it taste?’ on the flip sneers and snags like prime time Bunnymen losing the plot big style, part ‘Monkeys’ being spliced with ‘Rollercoaster’, a coarse angular distillation of head shredding psych pop at it’s most splendid. What your hi-fi been crying for.

Textile Ranch ‘Girl with numbered heart’ (Lykill Records). The first of two releases for French label Lykill Records who return after a more than reasonable sabbatical, the other being by Swiss ensemble Velma, which boo hoo hoo we haven’t got. Still we managed to secure our copy of the latest offering from Piano Magic founder Glenn Johnson’s off shoot project, Textile Ranch, and a nifty thing it is to. Pressed on snow white vinyl and almost certainly limited, to how many who knows, but if you aren’t setting currency aside for its imminent purchase right now as we speak, then shame on you. ‘Girl with numbered heart’ unless my copy has an unlisted track, is split into two movements, both are splendidly affecting electronic instrumentals, the former at times to these ears sounds like a triumphal baroque re-tread of Add N to X’s menacing ‘The Regent is Dead’, all elegantly woven into a superbly executed processional like sheen, while not to be out done movement two incorporates a vibrantly buzzing dippy edge, alarmingly happy stuff that waltzes non-chalantly in it’s own Prozac fuelled haze, quite delicious. ‘Boys climbing skull’ over on the flip chills as much as it soothes, a bit like a grooving ISAN with winter warmers that soon morphs as if by magic into lullaby-esque territories with child-like glee, disarming to say the least and irresistible with it.

Vessel ‘Fold’ (Expanding). Fresh from his last appearance in these pages as part of the acclaimed ‘ExpStatic’ compilation which saw both Static Caravan and Expanding going head to head and doing their stuff on a rather fetching 10-inch picture disc towards the tail end of last year, Gavin Toomey AKA Vessel returns with three more slices of delectable electronic minimalism as part of release number two in Expanding’s second series of the 7” singles club. Pressed on heavy duty blue vinyl and housed in a thick luxurious clear gabardine plastic wallet and limited to just 400 copies, Vessel plies us with three more delicately charmed mood swells, a world apart from the hustle and bustle of loud guitars and being tagged this weeks latest fashion accessory, Toomey orbits a genre that so often touches briefly, lives so adapted and pressed for everyday existence, offering a safe passage, a passing moment in which to recline and absorb, momentarily, the fleeting romance that these enchanting sound-scapes convey, ‘Fold’ mooches dreamily, subtle beats flicker and pop as the tempting ethereal melodies float wispily encouraging the listener to settle back a drift amid their longing spoils. ‘Crowd Control’ over on the flip side is a short composition that snoozes goofily, however it’s ‘Kerna’ that offers the releases finest moment, dwelling on the same austere chill that so admirably graced the ‘Wall Street’ soundtrack, Toomey toys with an ominous wide screened presence chopped and underpinned by prowling trip hop beats, the haunting vibes forced to rub at odds with warming electronic chimes, rather special if you ask me.

The Dudley Corporation ‘What a human does’ (Scientific Laboratories). The Dudley Corporation are a three piece based in Dublin, Ireland who describe their music ‘as romantic rock songs that encourage weak knees to shake with abandon’, couldn’t have put it better myself and to be fair to them they don’t lie either. The Dudley Corporation provide intimately set personalise dramas, it’s almost as if your snooping, a strange feeling is to be had from observing as an outsider another person’s outpourings of frustration and erstwhile contentment. This three track CD EP was released sometime last year as a limited ‘available only for a week’ kinda thing that we’ve only just managed to get our thankful mitts on now. Leading out with the title track ‘What a human does’ a racing pop fuelled heart-acher that fuses briskly snapping hooks and stuttering melodic heavy math rock dynamics, one of those cuts that simply overtakes your space dragging you close rather than politely inviting you in, for reference points take a ‘George Best’ era Wedding Present doing strum happy tear fillers in a twee stylee while underneath itching just to let rip. ‘Count me in’ oozes tragedy, coming across like a seriously morose Radiohead, that is when Radiohead used to play straight songs, well straight by their standards anyway. Utilising loud / quiet dynamics superbly with the inference on the quiet, the longer this goes on the more your aware of the fact that your normally steely complexion is beginning to fall away and the old bottom lip is becoming a quivering mess. A scarred love song no less. Capping it off with the delicately withering ‘Aliens’, slowly wrapping brooding swells with slow core mechanics reminiscent of an eerie Codeine being slowly teased by Archer Prewitt, brief, beautiful and beguiling. A thoroughly wounded release.

Thread ‘Done got died’ (Static Caravan). Literally just hot off the presses and soon to be one of those releases in months to come that we’ll snigger smugly and say we told you so. Not out for a while, though I’d be heavily inclined to start firing off those email orders now. A total shift of perspective for the Static boys, how this barnstormer got through the normal quality control checks is anybody’s guess, perhaps a tot or two of hard pop has made the usual tinkers of tiny terrific tunes a bit more malleable than usual. Thread kick in with their second single, the first being last years debut for the very wonderful Victory Garden label. The scenario is still the same, walloping good time tunes of the spiked pop variety that culminate in a furious crash that brings together a supergroup made up of Wall of Voodoo and Television being fronted by a particularly coolly sneering Iggy Pop doing tunes arranged by the Fall. ‘Done got died’ is all meaty twanging bass lines that dig deep and twist unmercillously, snagging riffs and wearily packed with hooks that not only pick you off with their razor sharp teeth but rather take it up themselves to mushroom and envelop your whole listening space, the new wave of old new wave starts here, or should that be the new old new wave, whatever, the warning that its a throbbing humdinger of a single is all you need concern yourself with.

Okay that’s it for a day or two, next Singled Out will be ready, pressed and looking sharp as a new pin and waiting eagerly for Saturday online duty. As usual thank you to all the labels, press reps and pluggers who’ve made these musings possible and a really big thank you for you for reading these ramblings.

Next Singled Out will feature the Barbs; Special Needs; the Stills; Nerine; Indofrumbah; the Features; Fiery Furnaces; Bessetti; Sixty Mile Smile; Along Came Man; Harvest of Souls; Melaleuca; Silver Ray; Surferosa; Dogs die in Hot Cars; Riley; Scarling and Carina Round.

Goes without saying any comments, threats or general chit chat readily welcome and as always, take care of yourselves and have fun


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