So jaded am I with the furious machinations of the entertainment industry’s PR machine, I actually entertained the thought “I wonder whether the new band Dolfinz are actually surreptitious blog PR for the kids’ movie Dolphin Tale?” for a moment longer than is really feasible.

In reality, the Venn Diagram displaying a correlation between Dolfinz and Dolphin Tale wouldn’t have a huge overlap, but hey: if the conniving team behind Lana del Rey‘s perpendicular shot at startdom can dupe a whole world of bloggers, anyone can.

Still, if songs like Hot Pants are the result of such Machiavellian manipulation, then I’ll …

I’ve been doing this for too long.

It was confirmed the moment when I posed myself the question “hey – are Tropical Popsicle Trop Pop?”, as if tenuously connecting a band’s name with a micro-niche music genre I’d only really encountered once before is enough to make a question valid.

They’re not Trop Pop, by the way – this sub-sub-meta-genre is Cold Wave, of course – but let’s not get bogged down in the ludicrous world of pigeon-holing, and prise open a song like The  Beach With No Footprints, where tinny zing!s of noise punctuate the thoughts …

Ah, the hilarity to be found buried deep within the minutiae of legal disputes.

Yoofs should have been on ANBAD a week ago, but they promptly vanished from the internet on the day I was to write about them, and I was left hanging like a damp dishcloth over the cold tap of pop.

The reason behind their sudden departure from the internet? They had to change their name because someone else was already using it.

And what was that band-name causing such all-round grumpiness? AC Slater.

Yes, AC Slater, the character from heinous, preachy 90′s kids’ TV show Saved …

The way that the slacker pop of Dinosaur Jr. et al has crept back into pop has been heart-warming, to say the least.

It shouldn’t, however, be too surprising, as the reappearance of the inaccurate but somehow more satisfying sounds of these bands is just part of a logical progression.

Really, it’s just the next step from the uptight, mono-rhythmicality of the bands that followed in the Strokes’ wake: bands that were all style and little function, where super-precise drum beats and accurate guitar playing were  desired ahead of song quality.

So bands like Daily Life, where a warm fuzz not only …

Funny how people will obsess over the minutiae in life.

Just look at typographic obsessives, for whom the world of typefaces is much more exciting than you might think.

Stop yawning at the back. Where you and I regard scrolling through the drop down menu of fonts in Microsoft Word as a minor distraction on our route to selecting Arial, they see it as a delicious opportunity to revisit some dear old friends.

The fact that there is a movie entirely dedicated to the Helvetica font tells you as much about our confused times as it does the people it …

There’s a certain boldness – bravery, even – in releasing a single that has not a single lyric for the first two minutes or so. Well, boldness or insanity.

Hey – it worked on Blue Monday, although that song was such a nailed-on classic from the moment it was born that Bernard Sumner could have farted semi-rhythmically throughout and it would still have sold enough copies to bankrupt Factory Records forever.

Musical flatulence is not the shared link to All Cannibals, though the predilection for long intros and outros is what they and New Order have in common.

The danger …

You know when you think you know someone, but you can’t swear to it? It’s a bit like when you accidentally catch a glimpse of your own reflection and momentarily think you’re looking someone completely different, but with all the social agonies of not knowing whether to head on over and say ‘hi’.

So, I’m sure I’ve seen Piran around and about in Manchester – I know his face. But I’m equally sure that this is nonsense. There are millions of people in Manchester. Stupid brain. This has become a weird exercise in non-existent stalking. Time to move on.

If …

Today, the rarest of treats: the chance to find enjoyment in the actions of Coldplay. Brace yourself.

No, I wouldn’t normally believe it either. But here it is, as plain as day, on their otherwise po-faced website – a joke! From Coldplay! Fetch the (Fair Trade) smelling salts, quick!

As far as April fools’ day jokes go, this was a good one: self-effacing, fun and – by using the classic indie no-hoper’s ‘We just do what we do and if anyone else likes it, that’s a bonus’ line of doom -  razor sharp.

Begrudging respect now earnt, perhaps …

Watching a band evolve is one of the more enjoyable facets of Indie life. It’s proud parenting for those of us who haven’t delved into the real and complicated world of family life yet.

Look at Los Campesinos!, for example. As their career progressed, I’ve experienced unbridled, novel, joy (their first, dazzling, frantic releases); anxiety at their bratty teenage years (when the once-fun Tweecore sound became grating); and finally, most recently, joy and pride again as maturation has arrived in the form of their new, brilliant, single, Romance Is Boring.

The pay-off for this journey is why so many …

That’s a mysterious apostrophe isn’t it? A taunting, curious interruption, that begs half a dozen questions, not the least of which is, ‘Who is Pengilly? And just what is it that belongs to them?’

Hopefully it’s (geddit!?!) presence will irritate the crap out of Lynne Truss, the only woman to ever make an extended book career out of being a grammar pedant. Imagine how much fun she’d be at a dinner party.

Pengilly’s, vicious apostrophe and all, however, would be a delight. Especially if they cooed and fluttered their way through the floaty-light Ivan Splits In Two right …