Missive 22
17-10-2003
Singled Out

Missive 22

Dedicated to: My father John.

Weighted inversely proportionate to mass and space on: 19th October 2003
Kaput, gone, bitten the dust by: 31st October 2003.

How these missives fly round these days, I feel like the proverbial mouse on the wheel without the choice cheese cuts or as though I’ve been dropped into the lead role of Groundhog Day only with better music (discuss) and without Andie MacDowell to wake up too. Winters approaching fast and the dark nights are ushering in, meanwhile we’re busy building the loft bonfire with an assortment of pop idol related paraphernalia in readiness for Guy Fawkes night and making Doc Fox masks to scare away the kids of the diocese on Halloween.

So what’s been happening in the record attic of late, sad to say nothing, the loft has been gripped with ‘Kill Bill’ fever, donning our replica dayglo ‘Game of Death’ track suits much to the neighbours amusement, at least we’ve been able to ride the Losing Today bike around at night without lights, mind you planes flying a 20,000 feet have been alerted.

Your socially starved scribe was persuaded on pain of death to visit the jubilations of Rough Trade’s 25th Birthday bash where upon we were regaled by the sounds of the very wonderful Fiery Furnaces and a superb set from Joel of the Hidden Cameras accompanied by a string quartet, though I have to admit that the sound was marred by that man Butler as in Bernard, as in McAlmont and Butler, as in Suede etc..etc…nice to see him keeping his hand in, shame it wasn’t in his pocket, only joking Bern. Also in attendance were the Libertines, who appeared more pissed than the majority of the crowd, rock ‘n’ roll, apparently now done with one chord. Among the liggers allegedly were Don Letts, Mick Jones and Morrisey, the latter I’m wildly suspicious about, photos anyone?

Word from across the pond also has it that Ms Love has fallen foul of the law again and could face a jail sentence. Now I’m not in the habit of condoning drugs, but Ms Love obviously has issues that she needs help with, maybe it is a craving for attention whatever, yet the fact remains that she is a mother and on her day one of the best female front women around, do you really need to do all this Courtney? Get back to what your best at, proving the critics wrong and ripping it up on record.

Current thrills on the hi-fi has to be a pretty daunting album by a Massachusetts band called, wait for it, Sunburned Hand of the Man. ‘The Trickle – Down Theory of Lord Knows What’ is an unusual exercise in off the wall shadowy folk, imagine Rock ’n’ Roll on a spiritual trip to Tibet to partake in a spot of psychedelic divinity, limited to 1000 copies, recommended for all who like their sounds a bit more cerebrally stretching and strange. And while we are talking must have albums check out the seriously warped pop antics of the Unicorns on Alien 8 and ‘Criminals and Sinners’ by Charlie Parr, believe me and seriously special release featuring some of the best purist country / folk / blues we’ve heard in many a while.

Enough. Boy have we got some fine and dandy, rootin tootin, spangling, sparkling slabs of wax this time

Meadow House ‘The Hermit’ (Jonathon Whiskey). I know absolutely nothing about this tasty three tracker release other than to warn the Syd Floydists among you that you might want to snap up one of these fairly sharpishly. Limited to 101 numbered clear vinyl lathe cut pressings, which for those that don’t know, means they jump joyously all over the hi-fi depending on how sober your stylus is. Grumbles aside this really is one of those odd little releases that cries for a loving well-ordered record collection. ‘The Hermit’ reveals that Meadow House have been spending an unfeasible amount of time with the ‘Barrett’ album on continuous play, macabre, creepy and fractured and overwhelmingly goofy sounding fried psyche, warped clockwork rhythms arch menacingly against a curious array of toy melodies and some of the most deadpan vocals your ever likely to clap ears to. The excellently named ‘Leper in a tumble dryer’ is straight out of the Half Man Half Biscuit / The Fall book of weird song titles, and sets about getting to grips with a classic meaty dub vibe but can’t resist a moment of comedic mischief making it result in Clint Eastwood and General Saint and the Clash c. ‘Guns of Brixton’ in a custard pie fight with Neil’s version of ‘Hole in my Shoe’. ‘Ending with ‘Doug’s piss up’ as the title suggests, confused, say no more.

Fotomoto / The Workhouse ‘Split’ (Jonathon Whiskey). If previous Workhouse related releases are anything to go by then this is another record that’ll sell out fast yet that’s not to say that Fotomoto are anything like the poor relatives here. A Ukrainian trio who apparently have been catching the attention of a certain Mr John Peel and already have a self released full length to their name that I’ll have to track down. ‘Le sport, la musique’ is a bit of a strange one, utterly endearing yet spectral and hitherto frail sounding. To these ears it has warming Latin touches of Ana D’s ‘Satelite 99’ from a few years back, mainly due to the vocalist Olya Volodina yet spliced with some rudimentary swirling electronics that cast a wintry eye, very, very tasty stuff. Flip over for ‘Nancy’ by the Workhouse, which incidentally does not appear on their currently available debut album ‘The end of the pier’. ‘Nancy’ sees the atmospheric quartet in much more distantly reclusive moods, opening to the sound of a zig-zagging lone guitar, the layered textures begin to grow in density as the duelling chords trickle in longing formations culminating in the glacial backlash of a rapturous drone collage that elegantly sweeps all aside and bathing the whole thing in a blissful spectral haze of dreaming feedback ala early Moose / Chapterhouse. Simply beautiful. For both releases contact phil@normansrecords.com

The Land Of Nod / P.A.T.E. ‘Split’ (Ochre). The first two releases in the latest Ochre mail order subscription series, which over the coming months should see the release of seven 7” vinyl gems, all pressed on coloured wax and housed in a tasty looking generic die cut card sleeve. First instalment of the series pressed on blue vinyl features the key protagonists remixing each other. P.A.T.E. or Pop Art Tradition Experiment to give them their full title hail from Japan and set about giving Land of Nod’s ‘Eddy’ that originally appeared on the album ‘Inducing the sleep sphere’ a total makeover with startling results. P.A.T.E. give it the works though keeping in tact the original drone textures that still waver menacingly throughout underneath, they bring to it an earthiness with the use of docile pastoral chords that midway through take on an ominous nightmarish twist which soon evaporates to weaving spacey textures and 60’s folkisms, very strange. Ochre space cadets The Land of Nod for their part serve up some of their own brand of sonic surgery on P.A.T.E.’s ‘Shinkai Crusin #2’, refitting it with the strains of their own ‘Eddy’ and an tense macabre brushing and sinister carnival dynamics that suggest you oughtn’t stray to far from the light switch. Excellent stuff.

Neil and Iraiza ‘This is not a love song’ (Ochre). The second release in the series is pressed on green wax and is by Japanese duo Hiroshisa Horie and Gakuji Matsuda who go under the name Neil and Iraiza and have been delighting their native country with a few well-aimed releases on the Escalator label. This is their first release outside Japan and what a tempting gem it is. Both tracks featured on the single are taken from their current album ‘New School’. ‘This is not a love song’ sadly isn’t a cover of the old PIL hit from yesteryear but rather a jaunty childlike concoction that scatters about with a tender pop sheen inside nuzzling a sublime 60’s Francophile grace wrapped around the same kind of heart warming affection that made those old Bus Stop and Sarah releases such an adorable treat. Adorable stuff. ‘Oracle Noises’ on the flip side is very short and sweet and acts in total contrast yet nonetheless just as alluring, whirling electronics trip in all manner of fizzing lustre, delicately hypnotic with it’s repetitive groove and Spacemen 3 in the palace of the Wizard of Oz kind of vibe. Future confirmed appearances on the series from Will Sergeant, Longstone, Charles Atlas and Acid Mothers. For both releases contact ochre@talbot.force9.co.uk

Gonga ‘Strato-fortress’ (Invada). Another record that I’m happy to announce I know absolutely nothing about though was half expecting some kind of theme play on Gong, geddit Gong / Gonga (why I bother I’ll never know). Limited to 300 hand numbered copies and pressed on clear vinyl, apparently this lot are billed as doom rockers though why is beyond me on the evidence of the whipping up a minor frenzy lead track ‘Strato-fortress’ which does have traits of a young ‘Bleach’ era Nirvana dicking about with the Deep Purple back catalogue and getting strung up with the effects pedals and a dense swamp like vibe, good rocking fun though. Things get slightly more disconcerting on the instrumental ‘Untitled #1’ on the flip side, if Gong’s music was for sound tracking various states of tripping then time to reach for all the contents of the bathroom cabinet, speed, hash, acid even laxatives the whole lot as the Gonga boys get to replicating the sound of my electric sander being possessed by the horned one, very uneasy stuff remember all the grind core things from years ago and how we all laughed and partied when it disappeared over the horizon, well seems like Gonga have gone and dug it up and now it’s looking for blood. Nasty but essential, why of course. www.gonga.co.uk

Puffin Boy ‘Short // Cut’ (Foolproof projects). More electronic hysteria from singled out favourites Puffin Boy. Wiggling starkly sparse synthesisers mooch in a stuttered groove to waltz over vocals provided by Domestic 4’s Kerry Davies to provide a really neat dislocated symphony that moulds a shrill early 80’s texture as though Cabaret Voltaire are messing with Devo’s head while strutting their stuff on an android version of Studio 54, very wired and very up for it. Devilish stuff on the flipside as ‘Off // Set’ moves the goalposts several pitches down the road and marginalizes the mood with a spacey comedic feel that almost recalls the loopy theme from ‘Get Shorty’. Wigged out beats erratically jostle menacingly without a care in the world against a dippy electronic canvas that midway through appears to lose the plot and has a seizure wherein blind lunacy it runs riot to racing to the post with the chasing irregular percussion in quick attendance. Dizzy stuff. For those of a more resolute disposition check out the website for some exclusive mp3’s from the warping viewpoint of Puffin Boy and label mates Braer Rabbit at www.poolproofprojects.co.uk

Astropop 3 ‘Anything’ (Planting Seeds). Been a while since we had the pleasure of Astropop 3 on the old CD player, and so we get way laid by this delightful two tracker, which turns out to be a four-track affair with two hidden tracks nuzzling in the background. ‘Anything’ takes a more considered tact rather than the effervescent twinkling pop sound that they courted with on ‘Lost in a Dream’. Drifting thoughtful melodies are the order of the day on ‘Anything’, heart-breaking pop that’s impeccably fragile worrying itself in the chill of an autumnal haze, imagine Clock Strikes 13 on steroids. ‘Never seen the Sun’ clocks up the ante several notches, a driving hook laden pop assault that fizzes and pops all over the place for reference points imagine the Teenage Fanclub Club getting to grips with the Vaselines back catalogue. The additional tracks feature the memorable rousing rocker ‘Forget tomorrow’ which sounds as though it’s been committed straight to tape live in the studio, all floor shaking grinding chords and possessing a real meaty Lemonheads vibe that exquisitely bleeds straight into some uncharacteristically explosive heaviness on the fourth and untitled instrumental which tails off the set, stunning stuff.

Sunday Smoke Kit ‘I love the rain’ (Planting Seeds). Another band who it seems have been missing in action for a considerable while. Last heard on our hi fi with the superb ‘Passing shooting stars’ EP from a year or two ago. Five more slabs of stately spring morning tears in the eyes trembling pop, starting out with the shyly sweet lush acoustics of ‘I love the rain’, a resolutely heartbreaking ode that seems to mooch around looking for emotions to snare. ‘Down’ cautiously deals with the trials and tribulations of life aligned to a tasty artillery of cascading pastoral chords, idly cute and distantly dreamy. The last trio of tracks are all live cuts recorded way back in 2001, more innocent wide-eyed loveliness to lose yourself in featuring the tumbling coolness of ‘The hardest things are often the simplest to unwind’ and the gorgeously hazy lazy Jesus Mary Chain-esque ‘Western Skies’. Can’t go wrong really can you? www.plantingseedsrecords.com

d_rradio ‘Dust and Guitars’ (Static Caravan). More reasons to go wild with the bunting as the eclectic stable of those Static chemists flings open its doors for two more sides of spiffing waxed gems. This time the honoured spotlight falls on d_rradio who for those with long memories may recall debuted on the ever-wonderful Awkward Silence recordings reviewed in these very pages within missive 20. ‘Dust and Guitars’ quickly develops into a magnificently wide screened sounding epic that saunters across to the meeting point where the heaven bound symphonies of stately Morricone emblems and ‘Moments in Love’ era Art of Noise fluffiness converge, all serenaded joyously by prodding blips and pinball springs, totally loveable. Flip over for the mood evoking fog bound allure of ‘Radiowaves’, paving a crooked path that only Black Heart Procession without the creaking accompaniment know the directions to and resurfacing it with a stuttered jazz enamel, spooky. Ending with an all to brief spot of refinement the Erik Satie-esque ‘The most real’ and you have another chalk mark up on the Static blackboard of peerless releases.

The Beans ‘Sun is Shining’ (Northern Ambition). More madness from Manchester and a heap load of summer shine fun to gently ignite those approaching autumnal nights. Limited to 300 copies and as perfect a reason as any to have you scampering down to the local record emporium to pester the owner because this’ll fly out when word gets out. I have to admit to have been caught of guard by this sprightly four tracker, tunes that are so out of step with everything you’d consider current, the Beans you suspect have their radios permanently tuned to the 70’s, diligently crafted pop motifs that really are inspired by the more acknowledged MOR musicians past and present, its like imagining what might have happened had Dexy’s swallowed the quirky English pill as opposed to the celtic soul tablet or the Style Council had have swapped their boaters for tweeds and very much continues a trend already set alight by the Carousels. Quietly effervescent stuff, ‘Sun is Shining’ does give off the whiff of Right Said Fred, but its done with such upper most cool that you just have to stand back and admire the audacity. ‘Me and your mother’ mixes spring freshened brass arrangements with laid back melodies that have been idling, one thinks, too long under the shade of an overhanging tree on the riverside listening to McCartney. ‘Save the Cake’ dallies with barbershop harmonies and shimmers with a distinct edge of early Commodores and, dare I say it, Wet Wet Wet. Favourite of the lot though is the loopy off centre parting shot ‘Fishes’, which almost comes across like a giggling Rutles parody of the Beatles, fusing without a care in the world grooves with glimpses of ‘I am the Walrus’, essential as if you needed reminding. www.northernambition.com

The Broken Family Band ‘At the back of the Chapel’ (Snowstorm). Snowstorm are another label that seem to have their fingers in the cherry picking tree with a roster that boasts the awesome Candidate and Wolf amongst its clientele, add to that list The Broken Family Band. Stands to reason doesn’t it that any band having a B-side with a title like ‘You broke my fucking heart’ was always going to get a mention come hell or high water. Coming from a perspective that recalls in parts early Hefner and more importantly the much-missed Orson Family and the Violent Femmes, ransacking the precious Nashville sound and propping it up with enough misery to keep a team of councillors trained in dealing with trauma in full time jobs for years to come and several pharmacies blitzed with orders for valium yet investing a cruel loathing to its cause that sounds like Will Oldham with a serious chip on his shoulder. Flipping over to the lead track, ‘At the back of the Chapel’ which just ducks and dives, swerves and swaggers with such amazing elasticity as to have you swooning feverishly, drop dead infectious hooks and a melody that’ll haunt you long after the stylus takes up its resting place. Single of the missive unless I’m very much mistaken, which I ain’t. www.snowstormrecords.com

John Stammers ‘Ivy and Dennis’ (Garden Sticks). Another Mancunian from what I can gather, though information is a bit sketchy, in fact non-existent would be closer to the truth. Both the debut for the artist and the label and a pretty nifty ding dang doodly do of a disc it is. Limited to just 500 pressings and if this don’t sell out in record time then there just ain’t any justice in the world cause these three tender tracks are the frailest and most haunting compositions that the singled out attic has had the pleasure of hearing in many a long time. ‘Ivy and Dennis’ almost breathlessly canters with an unassuming eerie grace, stripped down lo-fi acoustics very much in the mode of early Twisted Nerve releases but evoking the heart aching elegance of the lonely resonance captured time and time again by those endearing gems put out by the Fence collective. ‘Baggis and Neeps’ on the flip is almost briefly throwaway, wrestling with a slow down rumba rhythm and possessing the same kind of Continental twee charm that many of the Siesta releases so adorably languish in. ‘She thinks she knows’ with its rustic charm and ambling pace has an early morning sharpened spring time dew feel to, tranquil and longing yet dogged by a production that makes it so alarmingly fragile that you scared to breath in its company for fear of breaking its subdued spell. Available from www.gardensticks.co.uk

Annalise / Gunmoll ‘Split’ (Boss Tuneage). Winning the award for best looking coloured vinyl by several streets for it’s eye catching orange splatter on clear vinyl. Equally smart are the toons inside. Two tracks each as these pop fuelled hardcore heavyweights go head to head. Annalise kick off their brace with the energetic ‘Look at you. Superhero’ that re-jigs about with a loose riff based around Stiff Little Fingers ‘Listen’ and in the process speeds the whole thing up into a seriously catchy hook laden melodic pop that recalls early Snuff grooving with a more sedated Leatherface with Wizz from Mega City 4 overseeing the mix. ’16 bottles empty’ is my personal favourite, cheekily employing terrace style harmonies and razor sharp serrated electrics that are sure to have you bopping around the music system to your hearts content, very early Alarm which is always a good thing round these here parts. Talking of Stiff Little Fingers, flip over to Gunmoll and you’ll find that in their ranks they have a singer who sounds a dead ringer for Jake Burns. Gunmoll’s approach is all the more grittier than Annalise’s melodic threads, although saying that ‘In my place’ is a sly one that shifts with a daunting slow / fast dynamic that makes it alarmingly contagious. ‘Fantasy’ is packed brimming with chugging riffs and riotous menace, needless to say one of those tracks that begs to have the volume cranked full on for maximum damage. www.bosstuneage.com

Various ‘Anatomy of a …. (Extra Ball / Jealous Butcher / Vinyl Warning / Johnny Cat). Time to get wasted and to nail down the loose furniture for this ripping four track joint release by four bands and four labels currently terrorising Portland, Or. The Triggers serve up the raucous ‘Trigger Finger’, a furious barn stormer that is made all the more remarkable by a lead vocal who sounds like a hybrid early Siouxsie mixed up with prime Debbie Harry and Beki Bondage howling sadistically over a searing three chord noise bleeder. ‘Razor Eyes’ by The Hunches is the best cut here by far, sounding so raw, dirty and packed with enough primal hooks to give the Hives a collective coronary and have them running in the opposite direction fearing for their sanity. Good rocking punk fun as The Hunches take several leaves from Generation X’s ‘Perfect Hits’ demo tapes and melt onto wax a hybrid Heartbreakers / Dolls groove. The Electric Eye offer up the speed thrilled ‘Jim Shooter’ that recalls the Ruts and Sham 69 in their youth in a back alley razor blade duel with Joe Strummer holding the leathers and administering the occasional well connected kick. Captain Vs. Crew stray towards a definite wired and wayward Fall veneer on their ‘Cut the Pocket’, unrelenting and almost anthemic sounding which manages to do the near impossible by steering itself from moments of melodic lucidity to organised chaos in the blink of an eye, very smart indeed. www.jealousbutcher.com , www.vinylwarning.com

X-Ray ‘Issue 9’. Definitely the cosiest 128 page A5 music magazine currently strutting it stuff down the local paper stands. This issue features the shy guys and gals of Belle and Sebastian and Muse’s Matt Bellamy under the spotlight, while the Human League are subjected to the Rock ‘n’ roll heretics obligatory critical eye. Cover mounted CD could be one of the best so far, exclusive session versions by the Cooper Temple Clause and Jet and a host of showcasing cuts from the likes of the very excellent Franz Ferdinand (must get that album), The Bandits, Ambulance LTD and M83 among others.

Anthony Atkinson ‘Mental Notes Aplenty’ (Heliotone). This release just missed the cut on the last missive by a whisker and a bit. Debut release for the newly formed Heliotone label which is borne from the ashes of the much-missed Emmas House Recordings. This release as with forthcoming discs (which we are advised will feature Kimonophonic and Mundane Music ) is limited to just 50 lathe cut 8 inch clear poly carbonate records via mail order only, strictly on a first come first served basis, so consider yourselves warned in advance. Release number one is taken up by the modest sounds of former Mabels man Anthony Atkinson who offers up three well crafted vignettes pulled from his debut album ‘Come home for Autumn’ currently available on Australia’s Candle records. Atkinson’s greatest ability is the way he is able to formulate tempered musings of everyday life about the intimate things that make us tick on the inside and arms them with non obtrusive melodies that empathise with rather than depreciate the moods of the unfolding story lines within. The breezy ‘Half an hour in the afternoon’ sees sweetly flowing melodies and softening strings vexing themselves to the aching lyrical settings while the run out track ‘Summer’s Out’ could melt the iciest peak with it’s emotion sapping dynamics. Yet its on the moving lead track ‘Mental Notes Aplenty’ where Atkinson comes into his own. Reminiscent of a thoughtful sounding Kevin Tihista crooning out with Rufus Wainwright, Atkinson seamlessly bridges countrified gentleness with a pulsing pop backbone and executes with tear forming aplomb and a toe tapping brass drenched exit. Quite sweet indeed. www.onoffonoff.org/heliotone

Crazyface ‘Free Coke’ (Bearos). A band propped on the edge of greatness if this CD single is anything to go by. Crazyface are a quintet hailing from Birmingham with a bag of tunes, hooks and a firm understanding of the chemistry of power pop even if their delivery is an scathingly erratic display that takes more turns and twists than a factory of corkscrews. ‘Free Coke’ is an adrenalin packed arse kicker of a track that begins by moonlighting with a crooked riff re-reading of the strutting psycho trans-sexual ‘Timewarp’ from Rocky Horror Show before soaring with brazened wild abandon and shredding up a path of pop attrition that’ll cause your ears to smart and your feet to tap wildly and a sonic assault that just never lets up. ‘Good cop, bad cop’ is excellent if only for the vocals of Simon Pearce that wander with an urgent hush one minute to possessed malevolence the next across the razor sharp melodies beneath. Ending with ‘No place like home’ the best track here, plays with a cute rough / smooth dynamic, stalking riffs stutter and spit against Pearce’s theatrical incisions smoothing out in curvaceous style to support Lucy Moxon’s additional vocals, try imagining the Somatics jamming with Quickspace. Excellent stuff. www.bearos.co.uk

Elliott Smith ‘Pretty (ugly before)’ (Suicide Squeeze). After a long hiatus Elliott Smith returns with his first recorded fruits since ‘Figure 8’. ‘’Pretty (ugly before)’ is both simplistic and beautiful revealing that Mr Elliott has lost none of that creative charm in weaving lasting melodies. ‘Pretty (ugly before)’ cleverly fuses together subtle drifting paisley pop sounds with the essence of Gilbert O’Sullivan, deceivingly sedate as the melodies dreamily amble nonchalantly. Better still is the flip side ‘A distorted reality is now a necessity to be free’ which is almost drowned in a seriously lo-fi production, slightly eerie with a spangly psyche edge that manages to court with a neatly suggestive ‘Strawberry Fields’ texture and some sunny Byrds-esque moments, quite cute if you ask me. www.suicidesqueeze.net

Blackcube ‘Breve’ (Genepool). Debut release for this North London based quintet who thankfully still know a thing or so two about the art of trail blazing sounds amid a scene that seems insistent that the mere donning of a leather jacket, a ragged barnet and the ability to play 15 songs with the same two chords is the new rock ‘n’ roll, my arse. Blackcube mightn’t appear to be the full shilling given reports of their off stage activities but then what’s the point of youth when you can’t piss people off. Music wise it’s a different take, three tracks here that pack the kind of incendiary only found in an arms factory, admittedly on ‘Breve’, in my view for what it’s worth the weakest cut here, they still prove that even when the all the cylinders aren’t firing they can still roast the backside of any souls foolish enough to have a go. Yet it’s on the two flip tracks that things go mental big time. ‘SuicIdol’ is a fully loaded high voltage head charger that displays an electrifying union of rampant rocking out and vicious metal licks served at velocity and bled with enough attrition as to have sparks flying furiously. Ending it all with crushing ‘Beauty b4 me’, primed and armed with hooks galore and a resolute fuck you attitude, how touching. www.genepoolrecords.com

The Vacation ‘They were the sons’ (Fierce Panda). Another band who you feel don’t suffer fools gladly or for that matter take prisoners are Hollywood based quartet The Vacation. Side stepping the main track for a second, things kick off with the up for it raucous friction pop of ‘Make up your mind’, one of those kinda tracks that you’d imagine a lot of guitar bands go to bed dreaming about making, tightly wound and left to tic-toc like a pocket bomb, a bastardised concoction of 3 parts gritty MC5, 1 part Cramps, 1 part spiked Heartbreakers, stupefying and as addictive as hell and packing into three minutes more vicious riffs, hooks, sleaze and raucous good fun as the whole of the current New York scene can ever hope to muster. ‘White noise’ the lead track takes its cue from the Breeders ‘Cannonball’ and imbues it with a sense of menace and Foo Fighter style grinding dynamics. ‘Liquid Lunch’ should excite all those who prefer their sounds akin to having their skulls drilled, all wired fun as the Vacation set about to nail your ears to the stereo. Starting out fairly moderately it soon festers up in true demonic fashion, crooked twists and stutter fire riffs that sounds to these ears like the Pixies and Mudhoney punching the hell out of each other in a studio brawl with Nirvana stoking the flames in the control room. Can it really get any better? www.fiercepanda.co.uk

Repairman ‘Here we are now’ EP (Long Lost Brothers). Another band causing a constant buzz on the CD player of late are duo Repairman currently to be seen out and about supporting Athlete around the UK. This EP features three more sumptuous cuts following on from their gorgeous ‘Orange Room’ EP from earlier this year. Opening with the title track ‘Here we are now’ a curiously jiggy fusion of laptop electronics and rambling folk, I’d be tempted to say folk-tronic but there’s something more textured happening here, little flashes where very distant elements of the Beatles drift in and out and the seemingly restless shifts in the arrangements and the celebratory hymnal quality all around, oh yeah and the cute tumbling country vibes. Flip side features the even more complex sounding ‘Georges Empire’ that’s fired on a sublimely hollowed twist of melancholic musings and happy go lucky melodies, if it’s clues your after try to imagine Radiohead being tutored and given a make over by XTC c. ‘English Settlement’, believe you me that good. ‘Poor’ rounds up the pack splendidly in intimate fashion at the initial outset before getting groovily dippy, yet why oh why do I keep singing ‘Fe Fi Fo Fum’, strange that. Essential purchase of course.

That’s it for this missive, back before Halloween with a box load of goodies that will feature the latest from Primal Scream featuring Kate Moss doing the old Lee and Nancy classic ‘Some Velvet Morning’; a storming release from Autodrone; a Left Hand album sampler featuring the last recorded work of Mary Hansen; Homescience; the long awaited Spacemen 3 release on Earworm; some tasty releases on the Zeal and Hi-Fidelity labels, Blanche featuring Jack White and a mid life crisis goodie from MJB oh yeah and whatever else turns up in the next 10 days.

As always eternal gratitude for those who’ve made this possible, labels, artists, PR’s and distributors too many to name but you know who you are, not forgetting a big thanks for reading these musings, hopefully among this little lot you’ll find something that’ll change your life or at the very least make your record collection the envy of the neighbourhood.

Good hunting and see you all before the 31st, take care of yourselves and remember ‘a record is for life not for the moment’.

Mark xx