I’m not entirely sure that Capua Collective are actually a collective. I mean, there’s two of them, which only really makes them just about plural.

Still, being the big-hearted individual I am, I’m willing to let this slide, simply because Capua Collective are frighteningly young (19) considering the kind of nuanced music they’re making.

Might As Well takes all the elements that usually guarantee a song to be a snore-fest – soft, shuffly sounds all merging together, vaguely World-music polyrhythms, neo-2-step drums –  and defy the odds to produce something quite tasty indeed.

I love any song that only introduces …

Well, why not name yourself after an all-time classic, epoch-shaping album? It’s not as odd an idea as it initially might seem.

I’ve long thought that we’re reaching a critical mass of new band names; soon, all that’ll be left will be scientific terms and quadratic equations. (Not that the Hype Machine charts would look that much different if it was suddenly filled with band names full of symbols…)

Anyway: LVLS, or Love Less, a band who are now indelibly linked with My Bloody Valentine’s (only) brilliant album. I quite like the guile of a band naming themselves …

Look, I tried to write a post without mentioning either the new Jai Paul songs that may or may not be Jai Paul songs, or the teaser of the Daft Punk/Pharrell/Nile Rogers über-super-group song, but look – I’ve failed in only the first sentence.

Hey, this is a music blog. I’m only human (or as human as music bloggers can possibly be).

Erk. Isn’t it unfair to showcase a new band after those two hotly-anticipated artists? Well, yes and no, as The Khanz‘ Wolves is perfectly capable of standing up on its own, thank you very much.…

I can’t figure out if the name of the band Inevitable Daydream is a brilliantly knowing insider joke based on a band’s likelihood to get lost in their thoughts, one of those names that is just a bit shaky, or whether the whole thing is simply another example of me focussing on the least important things again.

Anyway, Inevitable Daydream have made a record, in Clouds, that has a naiveté which leaves a charming and lovely aftertaste. There’s a lack of pretence and a feeling of insularity: the song has fed from itself and mutated as it has grown.…

Perhaps one of the more exciting things about the music industry having gone into financial freefall is that bands have started looking outside of the traditional streams for that elusive cash-money.

This has had a number of interesting consequences, not least that bands are now doing things for money that they would never have dreamed of doing before.

For instance – next week, music streaming people Deezer are getting The Ramona Flowers to play a gig in a secret location next week in Manchester from inside a perspex box, whilst the audience listens via wireless headphones.

Now, I think this …

Clarity is overrated. Purity of vision and approach is all well and good, you know,but nothing gets through to humanity’s sticky underbelly like a confused, suck-it-and-see tilt at life.

And here’s Bare Pale, blindly, lazily feeling their way around, proving that their lethargic grope in the darkness is paying sweet dividends.

What I love most about Bare Pale (the song) is the moment 10 seconds in: when the dragged-through-a-hedge, worn-to-a-nubbin, beyond-fuzzy drums lollop into the mix, a quarter of a beat out but catching up fast; a perfect introduction to Bare Pale (the band’s) methodology and reasoning.

Why re-record or …

Yesterday, Roger Ebert died. It would be remiss of me to write a post without mentioning how lucky we were to have him.

Easily the clearest, most insightful, sharpest, funniest and direct movie critic, his brilliant reviews drove me to try and be a better writer.

I’ll never reach the dizzying simplicity of his writing, but reading his words always filled my sails with the bluster of enthusiasm. If you’ve never read his writing, put half a day aside, and treat yourself. The world is so much poorer without a man of his wit and understanding.

Now, talking …

Gosh, remember all the fuss about Brother/Viva Brother? That was a fun trip down Chew-’em-up-and-spit-’em-out Lane, wasn’t it?

A quick recap for those that have forgotten (deliberately or otherwise):

1) Brother form after discovering Britpop at an I Love The 90′s club night;
2) Amidst much hype, the NME puts Brother on their cover as part of the ‘Return of the Great British Guitar Band’;
3) Six months later, the NME experiences a moment of clarity, and buries the by-then Viva Brother in a 5/10 album review;
4) Viva Brother fold (with a surprising amount of sympathy, considering), …

The last time I lived in a home with an internet connection was 12 months ago. When I tell people this, eyebrows involuntarily rise and the phrase, “but… how do you cope?” often pops out of their slack, incredulous jaws.

Truth is, it’s pretty easy to live a life without the internet at home. And in regards to listening to music, it’s – I feel odd typing this – preferable.

Maybe it’s probably important to point out that I haven’t voluntarily chosen to live without the internet as some sort of tiresome experiment with an eye on a magazine …

After all yesterday’s procrasturbation about applying the old and new; and splicing the loose and the rigid, here’s a band that glace at those concepts and run with them, wildly laughing at their carefree

Pregnant shovel their sounds, influences and ideas onto their songs all at once. As always, it oughtn’t work, but does.

Shuffling, hesitating (see headline for application of the obvious pun) and lolloping with abandon, Strangers is outrageously sun-filled, lazy and vague. And yet it’s whip-smart, razor-sharp and as brief as it needs to be.

This is a terrific song in every way, harking back to …