Ed Sheeran is shit. Google translated into Spanish, Arabic, English, Albanian, Telugu and back into English

Ed Sheeran sucks.

Morrissey is shit

Morrissey is shit.

Bon Iver is shit

Bon Iver is shit.

Bono is shit

Bono is shit.

Billy Corgan is shit

Billy Corgan is shit.

Dave Grohl is shit

Dave Grohl is shit.

Chris Martin is shit

Chris Martin is shit.

Ed Sheeran is shit

Ed Sheeran is shit.

No Monster Club. Where Did You Get That Milkshake? In words. And a bit of postmodernism.

The first song reminds me of the Tronics, and its title references The B-52s. So does its sound, now I think on it. In a distorto, male way. 

Nicholas Allbrook. Pure Gardiya. In hyperbole.

This is the music that made me want to write about music.

Tough Tits. Anxious. In words.

Can’t help noticing that on the press release for this new single (‘Anxious’ b/w ‘No Know’) I don’t get a sniff of a mention. Line of Best Fit, Louder than War, Vice, The Quietus… oh yeah baby.

Foxy Morons. Foxy Morons. In words.

First thing you need to know is that there are a surprising number of bands called Foxy Morons or Foxymorons, or theatrical acts. 

The Moonbears. Let’s get nice with… In words.

Neil Kulkarni, yeah? His band from Cov, yeah? 

Red Red Krovvy. Red Red Krovvy. In words.

I was there. I lived it. No, fuck you. 

More great songs. And albums. From 2016.

Not to be confused with the previous post.

My albums. And songs. Of 2016

I sat in a convivial pub the other night as around me convivial sorts chattered and laughed. I could barely hear a word. Every so often, the sound of what appeared to be a band tuning up threatened to break down even that little of my personal space. I do not need, not REQUIRE an excess of noise. I love music but not when it no longer sounds like music. The first few in this list are walk-homes, and have been played in any number of situations – on the train, on the train, in a car, late at night, for comfort, for company, for challenge, for conversation. Sometimes, even my family has heard them. The rest fade into silence, or a default Anticipation Is So Much Better category where my imagining of their sound is always comforting than the sound itself (assuming I have heard it). Some of these are here because I wholeheartedly approve of them. Some are here as a nod to my lost community. Some are even here because they make me happy. If you still require a rating system, then using the one patented by Scott Creney several years back all of these rate One (out of One). I have provided links to where I wrote about the music in question, if applicable.

Biggest disappointment? Easy. Dexys.

the music crit as David-troll (FB)

The last couple of days, bored through inertia, I took to gently trolling my peers on Facebook.

star ratings in music reviews (0/*****)

I was sent the following questions from a music journalism student at Huddersfield Uni. I thought I would share my answers with you.

editorial to Careless Talk Costs Lives #1

This is the final issue of Careless Talk Costs Lives.

Giving me a million reasons; what I listen to when I hear a new album

I try to never focus too hard, first listen.

The greatest performance

“Go on, cry cry, your tears won’t change a thing”.

10 Bob Dylan songs you should die before you hear

You win. Again. All you bastards with your linear narratives. All you male bastards, writing entire worlds out of existence.

Bob Dylan wins the Nobel Prize for Literature ; some facts

Bob Dylan winning a Nobel Prize for Literature says nothing about the quality of Dylan’s work and everything about the age, ethnicity and gender of the Nobel Prize for Literature judges.

10 reasons I have not written about the new Jenny Hval yet

Once again, music critics fail to grasp magic. Fail to grasp music. They think that through describing music you can approximate an understanding or appreciation of music. No. No you can’t. All you can do by describing music is to appear Second Rate.

I want to write about Tough Tits ; no fucks given and none taken

I recall stories of Earth early on.