Shit year for music. Well-named then.
- INXS were always shit. Do not let the rock revisionists try to convince you otherwise. Doubtless Hutchence was pretty. Not my type though.
- Nik Kershaw always was shit, not for his rhythms though.
- So were Duran Duran.
- Calling someone ‘indie’ in 2016 is like calling someone ‘grunge’ in 2016: just another synonym for a male rock band with guitars. Lazy journalese that reflects badly on all concerned. How are The 1975 indie?
- Nothing wrong with going shirtless or having a privileged upbringing, per se. Just thought I would throw that one in.
- The idea that music journalists in 2016 still get off on the notion of twentysomething singers following the Rolling Stones template (failing that, The Strokes) is nauseating. Should know better, do not know better.
- Never trust a band described as ‘haunting’.
- Healy cites “D’Angelo, Roberta Flack, Boards of Canada and Sigur Rós” as major influences. How fucking rad. The most obvious of all worlds.
- Jim Morrison was a twat.
- Obvious, so obvious.
- Now’t wrong with a little Frank Ocean.
- I ain’t so sure The Police’s fourth album is a template I would’ve chosen for my second album (or, failing that, Vampire Weekend). Bieber is better, for sure.
- Get past the twattish vocals and the precious self-regard and yawn-inducing “life on the edge” mock-rebel brat antics, and the second 1975 album is a surprisingly decent pop album. Better than the new Kanye, for sure. I especially like the way they ain’t rock, they ain’t indie, they ain’t bothered with authenticity in any guise. The teenage girls always understand.
I look forward to Matt Healy’s inevitable slide into his generation’s Sting, come 2025.