Not Another One!

Ten minutes ago, I was drooling over this website. Specifically the shoes. And the waistcoats. And the corsets. Hell, all of it. But I was rudely disturbed from looking at clothes I will never have the money, or the style, to wear, by a certain little thing called the NME Awards.

Best British Band!

Arctic Monkeys
Bombay Bicycle Club
The Horrors
Kasabian
Muse

Who I Expect To Win: Arctic Monkeys - NME's Flavour Of The Month since 2005.

Who I Want To Win: The Horrors.


Best International Band!

Arcade Fire
Foo Fighters
Justice
Odd Future
The Strokes

Who I Expect To Win: Odd Future. God knows why, because they're...ah..generally unsavoury. But then NME loves 'em.

Who I Want To Win: Arcade Fire. It was a toss-up between them or The Strokes, but the cover of The Suburbs doesn't make my eyes go funny, unlike Angles.

Best Solo Artist!

Adele
Florence + The Machine
Frank Turner
Laura Marling
Miles Kane
Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds

Who I Expect To Win: Florence + The Machine. I can't see Adele getting an NME Award, not after all those (what is it now? 84?) awards she's won recently.

Who I Want To Win: Laura Marling. Again.

Best New Band!

Foster The People
Lana Del Rey
Tribes
The Vaccines
Wu Lyf

Who I Expect To Win: Ooh, tough one. I'm gonna go with The Vaccines, just because NME loves their Schrödinger's guitar music articles.

Who I Want To Win: Wu Lyf. Well, I like 'em, and they're from Manchester (same as yours truly).

Best Live Band!

Arctic Monkeys
Kasabian
Muse
Pulp
Two Door Cinema Club

Who I Expect To Win: Kasabian. Enter witty quip here.

Who I Want To Win: Well, I can't really say since I've never seen any of them live, but Jarvis Cocker is awesome, so I'm going with Pulp.

Best Album!

Arctic Monkeys – ‘Suck It And See’
The Horrors – ‘Skying’
Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds – ‘Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds’
PJ Harvey – ‘Let England Shake’
The Vaccines – ‘What Did You Expect From The Vaccines?’

Who I Expect To Win: Arctic Monkeys. Well, this is NME.

Who I Want To Win: Eh. I haven't heard any of them all the way through, I don't have an innate dislike of any of them, and I can't think of any band-specific jokes. Thus, a free-for-all.

Best Track!

Arctic Monkeys – ‘The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala’
Bombay Bicycle Club – ‘Shuffle’
Florence + The Machine – ‘Shake It Out’
Hurts – ‘Sunday’
Lana Del Rey – ‘Video Games’

Who I Expect To Win: Hurts. Well, the 80's revival has to be acknowledged sometime. 

Who I Want To Win: Arctic Monkeys. Yes, you read that right. I might have been gently poking fun at them, but I do rather like Hellcat.

 Moll x

From The Abyss...

Slowly, gingerly, something appeared on the edge of the abyss. Fingers first, callused from typing. Then an elbow, covered in ink, paint, and syrup sponge pudding. For a moment, that seemed to be the end of it. But no; with a noise not unlike an elephant stubbing its toe, up came a head. Finally awakened from her post-BRIT Awards depression, the creature known as Molly dragged herself back up into Blogland, where she promptly collapsed with exhaustion.

Hello! Long time no see! Have you done something with your hair? You look spectacular! What's that? I look like I've been carried through hell on the back of a hedgehog? I'm flattered. Although it was a porcupine, not a hedgehog, but then you're from the city and can't tell the difference, poor baby.

Best Male Solo Artist: Ed Sheeran. Well, I said I expected him to win, didn't I? Nevertheless (I love that word, it's three words at once and it rocks) nevertheless, I'm disappointed.

Best Female Solo Artist: Adele. Well, none of us expected that, did we? Because she's an eloquent, unappreciated young woman, who really needs the sales boost because otherwise she'll be having to crash at her friends house.

British Breakthrough: Ed Sheeran. Yes, him again.

British Group: Coldplay. Oh well. I'm not in the business of bashing a group simply because they're posh, so I'll leave it there.

British Single: One Direction, What Makes You Beautiful. AH HA HA HA! HA HA HA! Oh, wait they're serious.

Album Of The Year: Adele. FFS.

International Male Solo Artist: Bruno Mars. Must. Resist. Urge. To. Punch. Computer.

International Female Solo Artist: Rihanna. Proof if proof were needed that the official BRIT Awards dictionary does not contain the word "talented"

International Group: Foo Fighters. Ok, they can have it, I'm not that bothered. Davey seems to be a nice guy, and it's better they have it than Lady Antebellum.

International Breakthrough: Lana Del Rey. I quite like Video Games, so there's a turn up for the books.

Molly x

(And The Winner Is...) Music Monday

It's the Brits tomorrow. I am losing hope, but let's see...

Best Male Solo Artist: I'm going with James Blake on this one. Simply because I don't like Ed Sheeran (although I'm expecting him to win) or Professor Green. James Morrison is good, but a bit to MOR as far as I recall. And Noel Gallagher is just a bit annoying.

Best Female Solo Artist: Laura Marling. That's all.

British Breakthrough: The Vaccines, probably, but I don't like any of them that much.

British Group: Arctic Monkeys. They've been going a while; surely they're frozen by now

British Single: None of 'em. NONE OF 'EM!

Album Of The Year: PJ Harvey, Let England Shake. Not heard it all the way through, but you can kinda tell it's better than an album called "+"

International Male Solo Artist: Aloe Blacc. At least it's something a bit different

International Female Solo Artist: Give a half prize to Feist and Bjork, I can't pick! The only one where it's not obvious...

Int-; OH COME ON! COME ON, BRITS! I give up, dis is crap.

Mollx

Just So Molly Can Show Off...

One of the films I got from the library on Tuesday was Thor. So! As I consider myself a bit of a Greek/Egyptian/Norse myth buff, mythology songs it is! I haven't read any in a while though (despite owning several Icelandic Sagas), so this is a bit of a quiz type thing. Feel free to add your own in the comments, as always!

Cassandra, Emmy The Great. Cassandra, Cassandra. Rings a bell. Wasn't she  a prophet? *checks* YES! Rock on!

Isis, The White Stripes. Okaaay...wife of Osiris (her brother, don't cha know), queen of the gods? *checks* HALLELUJAH! Two for two! (although, to be honest, that was a pretty easy one).


Crane Song 1& 2, The Decemberists. I wanted to do a Norse one so I could make it three outta three, but I couldn't find any bar heavy metal. So I've posted this, which is based on the Japanese myth of The Crane Wife (had to look it up on wikipedia. Not nice).

Moll x

Holy Indie Music Batman!

Batman Forever is a terrible film. But I liked it, so there. I like this better, though.

KRUNCH! The Brunettes, Hulk Is Hulk

zzzzzWAP! The Ramones, Spider-Man

BAM! Queen, Flash. 

ZLONK! The Traits, Nobody Loves The Hulk

AWK! Black Lips, Spidey's Curse


Mollx

Valentine's Day, Mk II

It didn't really sink in that I'd been doing this a year until I looked back at last February to make sure I didn't repeat myself.

Unsurprisingly, the king of the bitter love song. Literally. The Mountain Goats, Standard Bitter Love Song #8

Ah, but is he? Not when Steven Patrick Morrisey is around, he ain't. Morrisey, You Have Killed Me (one of the greatest songs ever, I think you'll find)

I never thought I was that big a fan of The Cure, but to hell with delineating levels of fandom. The Cure, Boys Don't Cry

Moll

(Juno) Music Monday

It was the Grammys yesterday.

I hate the Grammys.

I like the Juno Awards*.


* said I before actually listening to the shortlist

So! To the Juno Nominees!

Juno Fan Choice: Arcade Fire. Hands down. In a list with Justin Bieber and Nickelback (excuse me while I wash my mouth out), surely someone would have the sense to give it to Win Butler and co.

Single of the Year: The Sheepdogs, I Don't Know Best of a bad set, I'm afraid. They remind be a bit of The Eagles, so they can't be all that awful.

International Album Of The Year: I'll let Adele have this, I guess. Again, best of a bad set (Oh, woe is me. I started this post with such high expectations).

Album Of The Year: This is not simply a bad set. This is a set so bad it makes me want to go and lie down in a darkened room.

Artist of the Year: Finally I can have some faith in music again! Feist is having this one folks, no question.

That's me out, before my head explodes from all the rubbish music people are allowed to get awards for. See ya!



Moll x

SOTW: Strawberry Whiplash, Factory Girl

Listening to noise pop in February is like eating ice-cream at Christmas. Eccentric, quirky, and even better in the wrong season than it is in the right one. You listen to Factory Girl, even in this weather, and you can see it - the rain coming down on a deserted beach in, as Morrisey so eloquently put it, a humdrum town. There's a plastic bag billowing in the breeze, and the tide is sweeping in and out in time with the rickety drums. The gentle squawking of the seagulls blends with the Stone Roses guitar lines. You, leaning against the railings, sing quietly along, the only person in the world. It's a strange feeling. Like you're living in a dream.

7/10

Moll x

Foreign Friday: Israel

Or Label Day, depending on your preference of feature. They're both on Hiss Records, y'see.

I think there's a theme developing here. Sharon Van Etten. Cat Power. St Vincent. Shany Kedar, This House
There's not an app anywhere in Linux Fedora or Firefox that allows me to type in hebrew, but I'll try to cut'n'paste. If it doesn't work I'll have to rely on dodgy Google Translate.

ישי קיצ'לס,

מאבן לאבן (can't get them in one line, sorry.)


That's all I found, but if those of you who are actually in Israel could give me some pointers, that'd be great. Thanks in advance!


Moll x

Second-Look Thursday

I think I should do this, don't you? Especially since reviewing SVE yesterday and finding that I liked her after all, so much so that Tramp got the second-ever full score.

Clogs, Last Song. On first look, they were a mostly instrumental band that I didn't listen to because I didn't want my image of the Bryce Dessner as a brilliant, humble musician tarnished by possibly pretentious music.

On second look, WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING? It's the Bryce Dessner, you idiot, with Padma Newsome to boot. Of course it's beautiful stuff.

St Vincent, Cheerleader. I really wanted to love her. Come on - great voice, great guitar player, great lyrics - but, much like Sharon Van Etten, there was something stopping me from liking her. I think it was possibly money preservation. But to hell with the purse strings, it's not like I have rent to pay.

Charlotte Gainsbourg, Heaven Can Wait. This is actually more of a third look. First look, my mind process was as follows: Oh, I don't know her, she looks cool. Oh, she's an actress, and the daughter of Serge Gainsbourg. Cynicism raised its head, and I didn't bother with her. Then I saw The Science Of Sleep. Cynicism looked unsure. Then, after ten months after discovering her, I finally listened to her music. Cynicism slunk back to its lair.

Moll x

AOTS: Sharon Van Etten, Tramp

AOTS? On a Wednesday? Is the woman delirious? No. No, I'm not. Well, maybe, but not about this. I found out about this just two days ago, and I couldn't wait until Sunday to hear it. Besides, they might have taken down the stream by then, and if I didn't hear this for the sake of routine I don't know what I'd have done. Pretty standard reaction for someone addicted to music, you might think. But here is where it gets strange.

I never liked her that much.

I always thought she was good, certainly, I loved her voice, loved her guitar playing. But there was something missing. Maybe because I hadn't listened to enough of her music. Well, here I am, listening to Tramp and wondering where this album has been all my life. It starts slowly, sneakily, in clouds of electric and acoustic guitar, and the kind of voice an angel would have if it started gargling gravel. Give Out is normal enough, apart from the soft, powerful melody that takes it from unremarkable to the most beautiful song I've heard this year. It feels as if you're standing behind a locked door, listening to the songs of a woman who has no idea you're there, and is all the more glorious for it. Gentle and chilling, beautiful and tormented, both Kevin's and Leonard make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, make you shiver. How is it that something so simple, so common as the words "I loved you" can freeze the blood in your veins? And there's a tragedy in every "And it hurts too much to laugh about it" a tragedy that still holds on to its dignity, its hurt pride, instead of letting go and wallowing in self-pity. The feeling flows through the whole album, covering every quiet word with a strength that is hard to find within yourself, let alone make an album from it. It's been a long time since anything this bare has been so enchanting, and that's the surprising thing, the proof if proof were needed that music like this is more than the sum of its parts. From the all-consuming piano-guitar-drums-vocals of All I Can, to the understated We Are Fine, it seems wrong that there are people in this world, making music right now that is stronger and sharper than anything so many hundreds of bands and artists can dream of creating. It embodies so much, and yet Tramp is an album unaware of its own grace. My only hope is that the rest of the world can see it.

10/10

Moll x

Label Day: Suicide Squeeze Records

"Summer, 1996. The Pacific Northwest. Modest Mouse’s debut album, “This Is a Long Drive for Someone with Nothing to Think About,” is released by Up Records. The underground - still swooning - holds its collective breath as Built to Spill signs a deal with Warner Brothers to record their follow-up to “There’s Nothing Wrong With Love.” Pivotal times. The Riot Grrrl movement had re-claimed “the personal as the political,” heralding another wave of feminism and burgeoning movement that went beyond musical expression; yet, genres and subcultures still quarantined the conversation… All the while, Elliott Smith had begun to sing, alone on stage, acoustic guitar in hand.  

Enter Suicide Squeeze Records.

A label operated out of a basement - an effort and an adventure - in the mid-nineties (when K and Kill Rock Stars really thrived). This was a prolific period for regional music. Even as the national spotlight burned off elsewhere, inspired sounds rushed from the suburbs and the capitol, and swelled in Seattle. There were countless exciting bands, and near as much noteworthy music - much more, in fact, than indie labels could have hoped to document…"

I can't say, after reading that, that this is what I expected to hear. But there is something, something quiet and indie and..well, eighties about it all the same. Headphones, I Never Wanted You

I love this band so much. Never before has bratty punk been quite so adorable. The Coathangers, Trailer Park Boneyard

Picture this. You're walking along a street in a black-and-white B-movie. This drags itself up from the gutter like the the werewolf from the alley on your left. Then the lone camera closes in on your scream. Dirty Beaches, Lone Runner.

Moll x

(Catch Up) Music Monday

Where have I been? Well, on Wednesday I was abducted by the crew of the USS Enterprise. Yes, it's true. It IS. Ok, you got me, it's not. I just forgot and thought I could get away with blaming on Kirk and co.
Anyway, I owe this guy a review. So, without further ado (you can tell I've won poetry competitions, can't you*), here it is

SOTW - Harsha Iyer, I Find You Boring

I often wonder about the influence of Western music on other parts of the world. You can certainly hear it here. Sometimes the glint of pop vocals, sometimes the just-plain-weirdness of Child Bite. It's pacey and hard to pin down, but simultaneously as catchy as hell. There's a hint of ska rumbling through the background, a wavery bass line has more in common with a raucous childrens party than mainstream music. His vocals rival the speed of REM's It's The End of the World As We Know It and that "Dooby-dooby-dooby-do" is just adorable. The drums have been stolen from the circus, and the piano sounds like a hyper child. It's all great, every last bit of it.The only bit that  grates is a slight wayward American pop squeak, but that is probably more debut album syndrome than a sign of things to come.

8/10


* Not to brag, but I actually have.