Time for the quarter-year check-in: are you still listening to m b v?

After all the fuss surrounding its shock ‘n’ bore release, when the surprise of My Bloody Valentine finally releasing a new album seemed to trick a lot of people into a state of frenzy without much thought towards the, you know, actual content of the LP.

It was as if a certain breed of music fan suddenly mutated into the One Directioners of Shoegaze.

But not a ton of people are chatting about m b v now; not in the same way they still talking about …

Even though Manchester’s Strangeways prison has long been named the significantly less poetic HM Prison Manchester, it is still known widely and colloquially by its former, creepier name.

It has snagged the attention of musicians before, of course, and in some respects is such a powerful, engrossing name that it steamrollers all around it.

Few people will focus on the first part of Dexter Strangeways’ name, for instance, even though Dexter is one of the most satisfying and unusual English names, but such is the power of words.

Still. All this chit-chat about band names, again. What of the …

One of the fascinating and enjoyable parts of watching 2013 unfold is the wait as it becomes clearer that 2013 is not, as promised by every lazy outlet in January, the Year Guitar Music Came Back, but the year guitar music kept sort-of-threatening-to-become-mainstream-pop-music-but-didn’t-quite-get-around-to-it?

For those who desperately need to sate their guitar fix, confusion awaits: you could go and see the Rolling Stones strut their stuff in an enormodome, or you might grab a handful of smaller gigs from eager up-and-comers. Which most accurately describes guitar music today? Both? Neither?

Hell, if you’re going to be fibbed to about …

Octapush are one of those bands that I just assumed I had already written about.

The fact that I haven’t suggests a number of things: that they are simply and effortlessly excellent (they are); and that I really ought to get on top of things (I really should).

So, anyway – Octapush have made a terrific song in Françoise Hardy. As in; it demands an instant replay once it’s over.

What struck me about this song, and a bunch of other stuff by these Liboan brothers, is the complex-simplicity of their music. Most dance/bass/whatever-step music ground out by two-bit …

A minor case of musical miscatagorisation  today, with Boardwalk pegged as “shoegaze”, and yet are about as closely connected to Slowdive et al as they are to, I dunno, Mazzy Star, another wistful band who were lumped in with the Shoegaze lot.

Still, this is a lesson in ignoring labels and listening anyway, as Boardwalk make gloriously luxuriant and golden songs.

If you need a visual, imagine a machine churning warm, glossy caramel whilst you’re listening to I’m To Blame, and you’ll be in exactly the right mental spot for what follows.

Gosh, this is a lovely song …

I suppose being in a band is harder now than at any time previously, assuming you want to pursue any path slightly different to what has gone before you.

Are the rash of same-old-same-old bands that punctuate our musical lives at the moment a product of narrowing opportunities for innovation, or simply the careerist approach of nice middle-class boys wanting to be pop stars?

I dunno. Anyway, my point is that Febueder are at the very least trying to find something new from the morass.

Frankly, they’re succeeding too - Alligator chops odd sounds, stops and starts and sprinkles curious loops …

My, oh my.

When was the last time you heard a voice quite like this? Spouting lyrics like these? Over such beautifully confusing sounds like these?

Honestly, the last time I could remember my curiosity was prickled in this way was when I heard Seward, about this time last year. And then I remembered I said the same thing about Sturle Dagsland about three weeks ago.

Maybe it’s the month of May. Maybe I’m wrong.

Maybe The Warp/The Weft are brilliant. Who can say?

Chances are, The Warp/The Weft are, in fact just brilliant – …

Whilst ANBAD tries to be as international in its outlook as possible, it’s often hard to reach beyond the noise of the UK scene.

This is especially true when there are just so many guitar bands all fighting for attention, and all peddling their near-identical Indie-lite Career-Rock.

And dance music is, on the whole, just as un-daring: there’s so much gentle, MOR, safe dance music in my inbox, it sounds like the changing rooms of a high street clothes shop.

The real thrills within new variants on a dance music theme are almost always found in the rough and ready …

One of the many interesting experiences that emerges when listening to the new Daft Punk album is the inner turmoil that takes place: a fight between the part of your brain which recoils in revulsion at the 70′s/80′s soft-rock stylings employed, and the part that just wants to get on and enjoy the great songs.

This dichotomy is the genius of the album – and the enjoyment doesn’t immediately reveal itself because if this. It’s also more enjoyable as a result.

I experienced something fairly similar with Honey Wild – which, I suppose, is wholly to their credit.

I have to confess …

ANBAD, as you know, is committed to bringing you the newest music… from six months ago.

This happens a lot – or rather, every time I have a clear out of my spam folder and find nuggets lurking in there – and this time it was Pagan Moon who had apparently written something innocuous that my over-zealous filters had thrust deep into Spammageddon.

Still, this exercise of sifting through pill-mail and scam-mail is almost always worth it, and Pagan Moon prove to be full of intrigue and teeter on the precipice of absurdity – yet survive through sheer sincerity and forcefulness.…