My Bloody Valentine
By the time you read this I will have seen MY BLOODY VALENTINE three times and having been lucky enough to see their comeback show at the ICA I was literally floored by the revival flavour of the month.  They’re doing “Slow” and somehow they have managed to make “Soon” sound even better, which is something I previously thought unimaginable.  Earplugs are for wimps (and those with hearing). [JGram]

Monotonix
I can’t remember the last time I saw a band where you would never buy a record but could never forgive yourself if you missed the live show when they rolled into town. At the Rose for England gig in  Nottingham they started their set by setting their drums on fire and finished by playing on the shelf above the bar. Absolutely bonkers. [Dave Stockwell]

The Night Marchers / Obits / Monotonix
Digging the post-Hot Snakes bands The Night Marchers and Obits a lot right now. The Night Marchers are far less immediate than Hot Snakes or even Rocket From The Crypt but reveal a more subtle, tuneful, hell – soulful side to things. Obits are awesome, matching Rick Froberg’s hoarse yelp to Creedence-esque riff-jams that bop along to the listener’s total satisfaction. Also liking new sounds by Broken Arm, Mob Rules, Helm, Awesome Color, Zun Zun Egui as well as some old sounds from Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Bo Diddley, Flower Travellin’ Band, Jimi Hendrix… Monotonix live were also an event that I cannot recommend highly enough. [Chris Summerlin]

Please
London 3-piece Please played an immense set in Oxford earlier this year; tribal riffs + messy Lightning Bolt-style yelps = MASSIVE TUNES. [Pascal Ansell]

Icebreaker International
Pretty much the only bonus of all the diskant reformatting work was re-reading some of the excellent and hilarious content from years long gone, and digging out the records for another listen. Icebreaker International are still one of my favourite interviewees – we went into it not having a clue about how much of what they claimed was truth and how much was audaciously ridiculous nonsense, and left in pretty much the same state. Their second album, Trein Maersk, was supposedly recorded on a container ship travelling between Yokohama and Halifax and is probably the only real musical documentation of globalisation. I’m a total sucker for lies, manifestos, uniforms and instrumental electro-pop so of course I love this. Sadly they never did much else after this and now seem to have parted company. Alexander Perls now writes Europop chart hits for a number of faceless acts. It seems right somehow. [Marceline Smith]

Shield Your Eyes
Very, very loud and very, very lo-fi brainchild of hairy maverick Steph Ketteringham (see Candles, Guns or Knives). Because I’m a lazy bastard, I’ll copy from my earlier review of them: “riotous, colossal noise… SYE employ the warped, reversible structures of Hella with the crunchy lo-fi sound of Lightning Bolt… Stef is an absolute maestro, teasing out grimy squeals with intricate fingerpicks and uplifting riffs aplenty” (Nightshift). Myspace. [Pascal Ansell]

Hot Club De Paris
Hot Club De Paris are only in their mid twenties but are at the core of Liverpool’s ever burgeoning musical output and exhibit an indefinable sound. If you had to try you might describe their work as two-minute tracks of elaborate quick-fire pop punk with American math rock tendencies, quirky barbershop style lyrics and racing harmonies. Their narratives often consist of surreal analogies and odes to inanimate objects.  HCDP are currently at the end of a nationwide tour promoting their second album ‘Live at Dead Lake.’ which was recorded in Chicago. From it comes the best song about a piece of masonry ever written, the single ‘Hey! Housebrick.’ Both are released on Moshi Moshi.  Highlights of the album include ‘Mr Demolition Ball’ with Soweto inspired instrumentation and lyrics as incisive as Billy Bragg, with odd stop start arrangements and chord progressions of the ilk of Field Music. ‘My Little Haunting.’  Is a ghostly tale ‘why do you wear these clean white sheets,’ their singer Paul Rafferty inquires. Imagine the scene, the suit of armour in the corridor; a skeleton tumbles down the stairs through cobwebs and over banisters – wooo hoo, spooky! ‘Boy Awaits Return Of The Runaway Girl,’ is about the boy with big ideas who sold them all for pizza and weed. Rafferty’s chanty chorus leapfrogs the fidgety guitars and tinkly keys. The two-minute tracks flow really well into one another and before you know it you’ve spent an enjoyable half hour getting re-acquainted with Liverpool’s hottest export. [Mandy Williams]

Sunnyvale Noise Sub-element
Because fuck it, it’s my band and we’ve got new product to sell. [Simon Minter]

(Originally posted October 2002)

Slowly, I lifted my third gin and tonic of the evening to my lips and took a deep sip.

It went down smooth, but couldn’t chase away the bitterness and resentment I was feeling. After three years as the chief record purchaser for McRainey’s Rock and Roll records, I’d been let go. I’d been replaced with a machine. The Xoltan 3000, a device that could give the blue book value of a record within three seconds, with an accompanying printout listing the musicians who played on the album cross referenced against their favorite groupies. It was a mechanical horror that didn’t take coffee
breaks, didn’t ask for raises and didn’t tell the customers they looked like a leftover squash that had been left to sit in the sun for three days and then sprinkled with acne. It had been with a swift boot that McRainey had shown me the door.

What was I to do? Records were my life. And truth be told, I had no other skills. I couldn’t mix an espresso, but I could tell you who played bass for the progressive blues band, Camel. (Dave Ferguson) I couldn’t deliver a pizza but I knew that Kansas guitarist Steve Morse had a career as an airline pilot. I was doomed!

Suddenly a strong hand gripped my shoulder. “Snap out of it, soldier!” a manly voice
commanded, and I turned to face a portly woman with a three o’ clock shadow,
dressed in the military greens. Several high ranking Army types stood behind her. “Your country needs you!”

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Geometry Wars: Galaxies / Super Mario Galaxy
Geometry Wars: Galaxies is sitting in my DS just now.  I’ve never played the 360 original so cannot compare it, but I’m finding it hugely enjoyable and the control scheme (move on the d-pad, fire with the stylus) works much better that I thought it would.  The DS needs more 2D shooters, so it’s a welcome addition to the library, and great for a lengthy session or a quick five-minute blast.  Also, Super Mario Galaxy on the Wii is a thing of pure joy, and more than makes up for last-gen’s disappointing Mario Sunshine. [Alex McChesney]

Mario Kart Advance / Tamagotchi Corner Shop 2
Having given up on the Phantom Hourglass for the moment due to RSI/intelligence issues, I have been turning to Mario Kart for some quick amusement. It somehow manages to take all the good bits of the Mario Kart series and none of the awful bits and yet be unimpressive. Still, any Mario Kart is better than no Mario Kart so I am still enjoying myself. I can only play one cup at a time though as the button combinations on the DS send your hands into painful cramps after about 45 seconds of play. I also enjoy playing the Sushi Bar shop in Tamagotchi Corner Shop 2, where you have to assemble and dish up the correct sushi and snacks to an endless stream of demanding monsters. The highlight is adding wasabi which has a sound effect that goes WAAAsabi! I can play this for hours. [Marceline Smith]

Coaster Rush 3D
I’m not much of a computer game player these days, but I did get Coaster Rush 3D for my mobile phone recently and it’s a whole lot of fun. Streets ahead of the older, 2D Coaster Rush. Is this too much of a specific niche of computer game? [Simon Minter]

Guitar Hero
I bought my parents a Wii a couple of weekends ago and the old biddies won’t let me on it yet.  Fortunately however my friend has introduced me to the wonders of GUITAR HERO and the appeal is just so obvious.  I rocked first time round with Sunshine Of Your Love but completely lost the crowd attempting Kool Thing.  Embarassingly though I regained face with Even Flow by Pearl Jam, if that is possible. [JGram]

Nothing
I have never ever had an interest in computer games. Sorry! Video.  [Chris Summerlin]

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What the diskant team have been watching this Summer.

Jandek On Corwood
Now on DVD is the by-now quite old documentary Jandek On Corwood. Although it means putting up with yet more American talking heads who insist on phrasing everything they say like a question, it’s a remarkably gripping film made with very little source material save for the aforementioned interviews. I can take or leave most of Jandek’s music and I have my own theories about what’s behind it but the documentary is incredibly watchable even for people who aren’t fans. Video 1 | Video 2. [Chris Summerlin]

In Search of a Midnight Kiss
In the same week that I took a lucky lady (ho ho) to the SEX AND THE CITY movie I really liked IN SEARCH OF A MIDNIGHT KISS, which I instead found myself watching on my own.  I am officially becoming more soppy with age as my demographic appears more lovelorn than ever but can still manage to be so in a cool, black and white way that is sharper and spikier than those two drips in Before Sunrise ever got. [JGram]

Blades of Glory
When I saw it recently at ATP I genuinely thought it was one of the funniest things I have ever seen. I like it when that happens. [Simon Minter]

Joy Division
Written by Jon Savage, who reviewed ‘Unknown Pleasures’ in 1979 this is the story of the Manchester band whose music captured the post-industrial world of the late 70s and features all surviving protagonists. The grimness of their urban reality is captured via archive footage of high-rise flats that developed ‘concrete cancer.’ Bernard Sumner met Peter Hook in Salford and the story of the band really begins when they paid 50p for the legendary Sex Pistols gig at the Free Trade Hall and the ‘exciting mess,’ inspired them. Soon Ian Curtis answered an advert and Stephen Morris became their drummer. The film documents the transition from their early outings as Warsaw and their name change to that of the Nazi brothel. It details Gretton’s management, their signing with Factory. Peter Saville discusses the bleak cover art and on the road stories are interspersed with live performance footage. Throughout the film the lyrics to tracks such as ‘Digital’ and ‘Dead Souls’ are emblazoned on the screen as you are delivered to places such as The Electric Circus, their rehearsal rooms and the Russell Club, first home of Factory. Personal viewpoints come from Throbbing Gristle’s Genesis P. Orridge, Paul Morley, Anton Corbijn and Belgian journalist Annik Honoré who speaks for the first time about her relationship with Curtis. This documentary is at times laugh out loud funny. Darker moments are Curtis’s struggle with epilepsy, and the bands guilt about not realising his intent. The film briefly touches on their rebirth as New Order after this tragic event.  This will appeal to people who are Joy Division fans as unlike ‘Control,’ it tells the true story rather than the printed legend. It is all acutely real, depicted in technicolour thirty years on.  ‘The thing is, it was all very easy,’ says Hooky. ‘It only got difficult after he died.’ [Mandy Williams]

No Country For Old Men
I always say this but I don’t like watching films. That said, No Country For Old Men blew me away despute being a tense and unrewarding cinema-going experience thanks to the crowd as per normal. It’s just out on DVD so I will be picking through the details again in the comfort of my own home. Video. [Chris Summerlin]

Rambo / Cloverfield / Indiana Jones / Iron Man
For some reason I’ve really been missing out on any kind of ‘credible’ or ‘art house’ films at the cinema this year – I think Persepolis is the only thing I could be bothered with. But then I’ve also had a great time switching off my brain and revelling in the awful spectacles of Rambo (brilliantly bloody), Cloverfield (gets better with every annoying castmember offed) and Indiana Jones Checks Into The Retirement Home (flashes of brilliance, long yawning stretches of Lucas-inspired drivel). I even saw Iron Man the other week and it was pretty good in places (read as: Robert Downey Jr made the film), if annoyingly transparent in its attempts to set up yet another ‘franchise’. [Dave Stockwell]

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Daniel Radosh: Rapture Ready! – Adventures in the Parallel Universe of Christian Pop Culture.
I’ve always been partial to the writing of occasional New Yorker scribe and cultural critic Daniel Radosh ever since he penned some complimentary words about my website acidlogic.com.  My ears perked up when I discovered he’d written an analysis of the under discussed topic of Christian Pop culture in America.  I was particularly curious as to whether he could answer a long-running question of mine: why is Christian rock music so lame? Radosh does tackle that query (and actually points to some Christian rock that is really quite good) and surveys the totality of the modern Christian pop movement.  Those who view fundamentalists and evangelists* as part of a monolithic movement walking lockstep with itself will be surprised: there’s a lot of debate within Christianity itself as to how far it should embrace secular fetishes like television, comedy, rock music and wrestling to spread the gospel.  Radosh, a non-Orthodox jew bordering (in my opinion) on atheism, talks to Christians across the political spectrum and gives them a fair chance to express their beliefs while not being afraid to challenge them on points he deems questionable.  I found Radosh’s final conclusions on how the Christian and secular world can work to better understand each other a little murky, but that’s more due to the magnitude of this topic.  No doubt more books will be written exploring this subject in the coming years, but Radosh deserves praise for being one of the first through the gate.
* There is a difference between the two.  Read the book to find out what. [Wil Forbis]

Wil Forbis – Acid Logic
That would have to be Wil Forbis’ compendium of articles and columns. Truly great stuff, regardless of his exalted diskant friend status. His writing reminds me that there is real value in encyclopedic knowledge of pop culture and obscure things. He’s got that in bucketloads, along with a whole lot of style and inventiveness. [Simon Minter]

Slash – The Autobiography
Slash’s autobiography is an entertaining and often hilarious read. Value for money is low as I defy anyone to not plough through this in a couple of days it’s so unputdownable. The part where he runs naked through a plate glass shower door and out onto a golf course because he thinks tiny versions of the alien from the film Predator are attacking him is worth the cost of the book alone. Video.  [Chris Summerlin]

Daniel J Levitin – This Is Your Brain On Music
What is music? Why do we perceive certain collections of sounds to be musical and others not?   “This Is Your Brain On Music” attempts to answer these and other questions.  Levitin is a neuroscientist, but also an accomplished musician (and music fan), and handles the topic in an accessible and entertaining fashion without dumbing down the science. [Alex McChesney]

Al Burian – Natural Disaster / Wil Forbis – Acid Logic
Natural Disaster is the second volume collecting back issues of Al Burian’s zines – I got this a while ago but had to save it for my next holiday as it really is the best way to enjoy Burian. As expected, I pretty much devoured the whole thing on a 5 hour train journey to London last month. He’s a dangerous man, making a life of breadline loserdom, working in copy shops and hitching around the world sound like a totally awesome way to live. The chapter on the power of the non-stop party wagon to lead you on a fulfilling journey of crazy once-in-a-lifetime experiences is temptation itself. The whole book is hilariously funny and yet punctuated by some honest and thought-provoking incidents that round it out perfectly. It’s not unlike our own Wil Forbis’ excellent book, where absurd humour and outrageous claims only partly disguise his wealth of knowledge about underground culture. It’s your summer reading all sorted, right here. [Marceline Smith]

John Fante – Wait Until Spring, Bandini
I recently finished my first experience of John Fante, with his first book, “Wait Until Spring, Bandini.” You can really see the influence he had on Bukowski, but Fante’s style is so much more poetic, even when describing the most grinding of poverty and the basest emotions of men. Definitely worth investigating, if you can bear it. [Dave Stockwell]

The Damned Utd by David Peace
People have mocked and scoffed at me for reading this, referring to it as “your little Brian Clough book” but this is a truly crisp, albeit fictional, account of what it is to be an individual in management when working against your bosses, peers and colleagues.  Now why would this theme appeal to me I wonder????? [JGram]

Nabokov, The American Years – Brian Boyd
A fascinating insight into the author of Lolita, Pnin and Pale Fire. Includes details of how he sourced Lolita’s appearance and education, his hard-work ethic, frighteningly superior acumen and comic peculiarities. There is a great passage in the biography of how he collected bits and pieces which grew into one of his greatest characters, Lolita: ‘he took “one arm of a little girl who used to come and see Dmitri [Nabokov’s son], one kneecap of another”. He visited a school principal on the pretext of placing his little daughter.’ Probably not the most exciting read for a non-Nabokov fan, but for me this is massively interested as ‘Lolita’ is one of my favourite novels, and Nabokov one of my favourite writers. [Pascal Ansell]

Stuart Maconie – Pies and Prejudice
A love letter to the North from Britain’s treasure; It begins at Crewe station, where dinner is at midday, but is Burnley really the new Seattle? Following on from his rock memoir ‘Cider With Roadies’ Maconie gives us another pun based offering. Now Maconie writes a travelogue. He speaks as an exile, a Wiganer who considers supper to be a meal of milk and digestives eaten in a dressing gown but who now keeps his sun dried tomatoes by the cappuccino maker. Seeking to challenge regional stereotypes he rediscovers his own identity by taking a great train journey through Harrogate and Saddleworth taking in Wigan Pier and Blackpool Tower on the way. A whistle stop tour of the beautiful South leads him to the harder North of ‘soul, lights and rock,’ a landscape that changes at Crewe Station, where the ‘tarmac turns to cobbles. Maconie devotes large chapters to definitive Northern cities such as Liverpool, the ‘pool of life’ with its musical legacy and the Parthenon-esque St Georges Hall. Manchester ‘has fancied itself rotten for as long as anyone can remember,’ is home to Mark E. Smith, ‘the northern white crap that talks back.’ He writes of its blood red fiercely leftist past, and Working Class Movement Library in Salford. In a chapter about Lancashire dubbed, ‘Mills and Bhuna,’ the virtues of George Katsouris’s deli and Bury’s legendary black pudding are extolled. Wigan’s pie lovers hang out at Alan’s bike shop. Yorkshire gives us brass bands, and the Sheffield of Joe and Jarvis cocker. Leodensians include the old guard such as Freddie Trueman and Alan Bennett and new bands such as Forward Russia and the Kaiser Chiefs. While blue sky thinking from the late Tony Wilson led him to declare Burnley to be the new Seattle! The North of the screen from George Formby to Albert Finney is described with enthusiasm. Blackpool is The ‘Las Vegas of Europe and the Great North includes the architecture of Grey Street while Maconie’s love of the Lake District is touched on in loving odes to the Cumbrian Mountains. If you are on familiar terms with Greggs the bakers or rugby league you may see yourself somewhere within these pages. It’s nostalgic yet faithful to its subject matter and written with wit and passion. The author may have trouble working up the enthusiasm for a store cupboard snog with anyone who doesn’t love kitchen sink drama but he has clearly fallen in love with an entire region. [Mandy Williams]

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(Originally posted August 2002)

I hadn’t slept for three days and I was jonesin’ bad when I met my source at a dilapidated record store in south Los Angeles. “I need something, man,” I told him, my voice shaking. “Give me anything, as long as it packs some punch!” My source nodded and led me into the back room. Lest you think I was merely pining for some some junk, let me correct your feeble-minded assumption. I kicked the horse long ago and was in total agreement with Keith Richards’ observation that “heroin is for pussies.” I had a new monkey of my back now… music! I craved it with every fibre of my being, but only the good stuff – the crazy stuff. You can take your Britney Spears, your P.O.D., hell, even your …Trail of Dead, and stuff it up your socks. I wanted something that spoke of the lost generation of now, the reckless angst of modern youth. Like an empathetic vampire, I thrived on such musical cacophony. “Check this out,” my source said, removing a long play album from its plastic wrap and placing it on the turntable. The needle hit the groove and suddenly the room was fill with sweet, wonderful music. It was sound unlike any I had ever heard and it filled my soul like a Truck Stop waitress filling a mug with the murky black. “Yesss…” I said, feeling the driving hunger in my soul subsiding. “This is it, man… I’ve never felt this high before… don’t stop… don’t stop… oh, man, whatever you do, DON’T STOOOPPPPPPPP!!!!”

My source, a longtime music addict himself, knew what I was going through. He held me in his arms as we listened to this musical ambrosia over and over into the night. I question whether I should reveal the identity of this album to you. It may well convert you into a music fiend as well, my friend. I may be creating a generation of night travellers that walk the record shops in vain, looking for a greater high. But my journalistic integrity demands that I must reveal it to you. I cannot hide from you what is the greatest musical collection ever. It is… SESAME STREET: THE BEST OF ELMO!

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Pissed Jeans – Hope For Men
I think pointing out that bands have done this before is missing the point somehow. I don’t think even the Sub Pop bands of yesteryear summed up the total dismay of being in the middle of utter averageness as well as Pissed Jeans do. Luke Younger described them as perfectly encapsulating the myriad of feelings that come with a really depressing wank. It’s nice to see a band make so much noise about such close-to-home, mundane stuff. Some footage of them in Nottingham. [Chris Summerlin]

Nicole Atkins: Neptune City
I seldom find myself browsing aimlessly for records – usually I base my purchases on live shows or recommendations from friends – but t’wasn’t more than a few months ago that I was milling through a major chain record store, wasting time before a movie, when a particular album caught my eye.  Thus began an obsessive love affair with Nicole Atkins’ “Neptune City” album.  It’s an intensely melodic, ornamental almost symphonic collection of 10 pop songs, each drenched in wistfulness and melancholy.  The album clearly tips its hat towards 60s girl groups like the Ronettes, but the backing music sounds more like something you’d find in musical theater – the best comparison I can make is the soundtrack for “Moulin Rouge.”  Most striking about the album is its cohesiveness.  Ignoring all conversation about the rise of the MP3 in the death of the album, Atkins has created a collection of songs that live perfectly together.  This is one of those “the whole is greater than the parts” situations.  Each song is good, but it’s made even better by the fact that it’s coexisting amongst such complimentary siblings.  The result is a sonic experience that allows the listener to transcend the limitations of his/her humanity and embrace the all encompassing magnitude of the omniverse.  (Two or three listens may be required for this effect to take hold.) [Wil Forbis]

Human Bell – S/T
Essentially a duo of Dave Heumann from Bonnie Prince Billy’s touring band / Arboureteum and Nathan Bell who played bass in Lungfish for my favourite 3 albums from them. So, I was never going to ignore this one. But it delivers more than I thought it would do. Again, they won me over live where they weaved a dense sheet of intertwined guitar sound that recalled Lungfish’s economy and throb but with a more primitive and direct blues and Americana influence. Some dark and fuzzy film of them in Nottingham. [Chris Summerlin]

Portishead – Third
The new Portishead album is the first new record I’ve listened to in ages that’s really captivated me. They’ve managed to do once again what they did with their first album – create a whole world of sound that seems to have always been there, but which you’ve never heard before. Spooky and rhythmic and weird and excellent. [Simon Minter]

Washington Phillips – What Are They Doing In Heaven Today?
A reissue of some ancient private press LP called “What Are They Doing In Heaven Today?” by a guy called Washington Phillips, who played some bizarre instrument that has been lost to the mists of time, but was probably a dolcea – an ghostly-sounding cross between a piano and a guitar. Phillips’ voice is pleasantly reedy and his conversational tone in some really reverential songs is totally awesome. “What are they doing in heaven today?” he asks at the start of the title track, “I don’t know, but it’s my job to sing about it.” Totally cool and strangely reassuring despite its haunting, distant sound. Mississippi Records have been cutting  and reissuing a slew of amazing LPs in annoyingly limited editions over the last year or so (their “Lipi City Yodi Council” and “Life is a Problem” compilations were two of the best things I heard last year) and this is just the latest little miracle they’ve unearthed. [Dave Stockwell]

The Enablers – Output Negative Space
Quite oldish now but they’re touring again later this year. Loud and aggressive, yet exceptionally subtle and trimmed of all unnecessary fat it’s a real grower in the old sense of the word that’s undoubtedly helped by seeing them play live where they are an utter force. Video. [Chris Summerlin]

Paulo Angeli – Tessuti
One bloke producing a wild variety of sounds with a large upright Sardinian guitar. I saw him play a few months back and rushed to the cash machine to buy his album. ‘Tessuti’ is a mix of covers including Björk (‘Unravel’ in stunning) and Fred Frith plus some of Angeli’s own compositions. Attached to his guitar are little foot pedals which correspond to each string. While stomping on  these he bows and taps his guitar, setting off a flickering string device; general mayhem but absolutely beautiful. Review | Video 1 | Video 2 [Pascal Ansell]

Errors – It’s Not Something, But It Is Like Whatever / Blood Red Shoes – Box of Secrets
On the one hand you have heart-tugging melancholic electropostrock and stupidfun danceable tricksy electroPOP. On the other, you have sharp-edged, super-catchy singalong indie rock. Together, you have a soundtrack for any Summer day the UK might bring you, and two of the best upcoming bands in the UK. [Marceline Smith]

Harvey Milk – Life… The Best Game In Town
Just getting to grips with this one. “Heavy” doesn’t even do it justice. It’s King Crimson-heavy but utterly non-po-faced. Plus, any band with an album named after Dusty Hill’s finger is good by me. Looking forward to seeing them live…Video. [Chris Summerlin]

Death Cab For Cutie – Narrow Stairs
Their seventh album follows up on their critically acclaimed album ‘Plans.’ To begin Gibbard’s high tenor emotes plaintively ‘I descended a dusty gravel ridge beneath the ‘Bixby Canyon Bridge,” on the superb opening track, which mixes hard ass percussion with the melody. Next up is the hypnotic eight-minute single, ‘I Will Possess Your Heart.’ The spooky instrumental has a ‘Riders on the Storm’ feel. It possesses a relentless quality, which is appropriate for the subject matter of stalker and prey. The gorgeous ‘Cath’ is a standout track on an album of standout tracks. Melancholy lyrics create images in your mind. ‘And as the flashbulbs burst she holds a smile like someone would hold a crying child.’ It’s lump in your throat stuff, which is dominated by some very creative drumming by Jason McGerr. ‘Grapevine Fires,’ is a masterful piece of tranquil understatement. ‘The firemen worked in double shifts with prayers for rain on their lips.’ is whispered over electric piano chords and insistent drumbeats. On ‘Long Division,’ ominous verses lead into sing-along hysteria. ‘His head was a city of paper buildings and the echoes that remained of old friends and lovers. Pessimism goes pop with ‘No Sunlight,’ and on ‘Pity and Fear’ tablas take centre stage. ‘The Ice Is Getting Thinner’ is about a relationship in decline and replaces the live piano with an electric guitar. This album is less produced than ‘Plans’ but it has the usual remarkable mix of literacy and orchestration. After a three-year hiatus Seattle’s finest produce another tour de force. [Mandy Williams]

Free Kitten – Inherit / Paul F Tompkin – Impersonal
I have genuinely tried to find a record I have truly loved this year but alas I have failed.  That said INHERIT by FREE KITTEN became the first record that ever prompted a fellow passenger to request I turn my iPod down.  Personally I didn’t think the volume was too high so perhaps it was the piercing and meandering shrieks of Kim Gordon’s offshot that upset the grumpy fat cow.  I have also found myself listening to PAUL F TOMPKIN’S comedy album IMPERSONAL on repeated plays, super funny.  Oh and BOOTY LUV of course, they rule the world. [JGram]

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Pifco are brilliant. I just wanted to get that out of the way right now.

A fantastically unique two-piece from Leeds, they consist of Ste (clanging guitars and yelping vocals) and Mary (super-motorik drums and keyboard drones) and this is their first release proper after some compilation appearances and a self-released tape that was dead swanky. I can’t even recall how long Pifco have been going any more, but they always seemed to have been ‘around’ and have perked up many a live show I’ve attended. Kudos then, to Run of the Mill, for getting them to finally release something.

It’s a pretty tasty package too, with a full album’s worth of tunes squashed down and packed into barely more than half an hour. Pifco songs rarely get as far a bridge or coda, but then Pifco really don’t follow any musical ‘rules’ – they are a perfect example of a band that exist entirely in their own universe and, by God, it’s a great place to visit sometimes.

The official press release for this album, fantastically named “Pifco A Go Go”, mentions Sonic youth, the Fall and the Coachwhips, but to my mind they’ll always make me think of those early Stereloab records (you know, the really good ones, before they went all cafe pop). It’s probably the Roland keyboard drones that Mary tends to use as a bass guide for Ste’s rambling, jangling guitar lines, but there’s also something of that killer combination of Neu!-style droning motorik with simple pop hooks that works so well on so many songs on this killer of a little album.

Reputedly, Pifco have three more albums’ worth of material good to go. They’ll probably record them in their cellar, as this album was. I, for one, can’t wait.

http://www.myspace.com/pifco

http://www.runofthemillrecords.co.uk/

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WUKj0VuCBl8[/youtube]

Given strict instructions to write about A RECORD, A BOOK, A FILM OR DVD, A COMPUTER GAME, A FANZINE/MAGAZINE/COMIC, A TV PROGRAMME, A BAND, A PLACE OR EVENT and/or A WEBSITE, I nearly fainted from the wealth of options on the table. I knew I had to have my finger on the pulse, write about things that matter to the kids, and pull it off in a fashion that leaves me looking cool as fuck in the eyes of the reader. A role model, a deep thinker… maybe even an Idol.

So I was going to write a paragraph about A BOOK, and wax all philosophical like about the release of Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition, the pointless focus on game balance and oversimplistic mechanics overhaul at the expense of backstory & other fluff on player races and a shift of focus away from collaborative storytelling and toward MMO style XP grinding, but fortunately for you guys, something exciting happened in my life, so you’re all spared.

Instead, I’m writing about AN EVENT, that event being my getting arrested for the first time. What can I say? Being arrested sure isn’t what it was in the old days. I always figured it’d involve handcuffs, a night in the cells, blagging a “snout” where and when I can, and an eventual court appearance, which, let’s be honest, would be a near perfect excuse for buying some clothes that look like they should be worn by a grown-up. Fortunately, I was spared this indignity, and can continue dressing like a badly informed 19 year old for the foreseeable future.

This is how it “went down”:
My band played a show last night, our first for like two years. Needless to say, it was a real return to form, what with my late arrival for soundcheck, typical tuning problems and a heaving crowd of around twelve people once all the emo kids had gone home to bed, just in time for the headline act. After the show, the spirit of rock & roll clearly pumping through my veins, I managed to obtain a small amount of the smelliest weed I have come across in years. Thing is, I don’t really smoke anymore. Rarely touch the stuff. But as I say, this night was clearly all about the power of rock, and with no groupies in sight after about 10pm, I was destined to take a ride on the Children’s Plastic Slide with A Badly Formed Snake’s Head of the “slippery slide” of the drugs world: weed.

Heading back to my illegally-parked car with a spring in my step, closely followed by despair on my face, I noticed I had acquired a new decoration on my windscreen; a bright yellow flyer advertising a band called “Fixed Penalty Notice”, with an eye-catching yellow and black logo. This was truly going to be a night to remember.

Driving home with my windows down, the breeze in my hair, and the reassuring pungent odour of cat’s piss filling my nostrils, my attention was drawn to flashing blue lights in my mirror. I pulled over to the side of the road, expecting them to just pass right by, but to my dismay, it was me they were flashing.

I was taken to the rear of my car, and told that my brake lights weren’t working. I expressed genuine surprise – I keep my car in decent order, and am always up to date with tax, MOT and insurance. It was at about this moment that I started feeling my age – policemen are usually such cliches, it must be part of their initiation or something, but this time, I was the damn cliche. I kept looking at the officer writing out my ticket, and all I could think was “god damn, you young”. It also seems he was a young man, most likely a non smoker, with a keen nose. He told me in no uncertain terms that my car did indeed smell like an elderly male lion had decided to mark it as his own, and to be perfectly honest, he was right. On being pulled over, I had cleverly removed the offending article from my pocket and placed it in the super-secret compartment known to the criminal underworld as “that bit in the door where you throw your change and sweet wrappers”.

At that moment, perhaps noticing that I was suffering a little from the cliched thoughts going through my head, the young officer decided to take the weight off my mind and run out a few for himself. As he was searching me (very thorough, though not as intimate as I was hoping), he basically told me that if I co-operated and just told him where the weed was, this would all go very smoothly for me, but if I gave him a hard time and made him actually work for it, my night was going to be over. I held out for a couple of minutes, but as soon as they requested backup in the form of a couple of female officers to search my female passengers and a gosh darn, full fledged dog unit, I decided it was probably best to come clean. I handed it over, and the dog unit and backup duly arrived to search my companions and car.

I was put in the back of the police car, and told I was being given a “Cannabis Street Caution”. Now, this was pretty impressive – I like that they throw in the word “Street” there. It makes it sound cool and edgy. But this is the confusing part – they told me I was under arrest, read my rights etc, but I was merely getting this caution. So basically, I was under arrest for about half an hour while they filled out some forms, which were delivered by yet another officer in the fourth police car of the night, which I now fondly refer to as the “Forms-mobile”. They asked me a bunch of not-very-thorough questions, and transcribed every single word of my answers. This was one of the cooler parts – I noticed they were doing this, so rather than saying “yes” every time, I mixed it up a bit to make it exciting for them. I broke out “Indeed”, “I understand” and “very much so”.

All things considered, they were actually pretty cool about the whole thing, and they completely upheld their end of the deal, which I didn’t expect. They did spell out exactly how it would have gone down had I not cooperated – night in the cells, blood test, followed by court appearance and loss of driving license. Dude even pulled my trousers up for me while he was searching me, though I did have to point out that he was the reason for them nearly falling down. A few cliches later (“Needless to say, we’re not going to give you your drugs back” and “so, this is what ‘no cannabis’ looks like”) and after being forced to sit there and listen to them chat about how they were lucky to be “back on their patch” and not have to “go back into town” (this was the only slightly unsettling part – they were vocally really pleased that they were dealing with me rather than stopping people being knifed and bottled in the town centre) and I was free to go.

Five officers, four cars, two dogs, one bag of weed. Result!

Now something about A TV SHOW – if you don’t watch LOST, you’re insane.

I’m off gallivanting yet again, this time to Bangkok to visit my good friend Claire and escape the horrible weather forecast for the UK. However, thanks to the wonders of WordPress, there will be new content nearly every day of my absence, even if no-one else at diskant lifts a finger. It’s a bit like when the school holidays rolled round and the TV schedules were suddenly full of Why Don’t You? and terrible Australian dramas, only even better!

Wil Forbis’s Bargain Bin Culture
diskant will still bring you a fresh dose of Forbis every Tuesday and Friday around 10am, ready for your morning coffee break. Try not to spit it all over your computer screen.

diskant Summer Catch-up 2008
This was going to be an article but it got way out of hand so instead every day at 4pm you’ll get a new blog installment of what the diskant team have been enjoying this Summer, starting with records and continuing with books, films, video games, bands, television & radio, zines, places & events and websites. It all starts properly tomorrow but look out later today for a special introductory offering from the legendary Greg Kitten.

And that’s not all!
I also present the first Talentspotter interview in approximately 15 years; a chat with Stonehaven’s finest export, Copy Haho. You’ll be hearing lots more from them soon, I predict, so why not read up on them now and you can make yourself look cool. They’re quite amusing too. Go go go >>