Eliot was wrong, I think it’s March that is the cruellest month. Had they released the album a couple of days later, then I wouldn’t question a great poet. Actually, you’re better off reading a couple lines of modern verse, as it’s heavily anchored in rhythm, which I can’t say about the Guillemots’ new album, Red.
Most of it is heresy, and this isn’t about selling out. Pop is good, but not if the first chords of a choice song remind me of a certain Mika. There’s pop, and there’s pop-that-back-where-it-came-from. What else is there to be found? Who knows, my head’s spinning from this over-produced thing. Fluctuating wildly, looking for a Top 40 slot, with soul stripped of its soul, electronica that’s half-baked and clumsy. This is madness, and not the kind of musical madness that dislocates and enhances your inner world- actually I want to either hide from fear or pull a Van Gogh. Some remnants of the jazzy experimentations are there, but in quite unsatisfying shape, and reverting to more formulaic sounds.
Makes you shed a tear for the past glory of those wondrous EPs, “From The Cliffs” and “Of The Night”. Alright folks, we do have a couple of good songs on this big red yarn of heterogenous. But here I am, wondering, are they good only because the rest is quite awful? Or maybe they just remind me of what they used to be. Call me a reactionary.
Compare and contrast,
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and the like. So why didn't she appreciate Stone Roses? Why did she sort of like Jamie Lidell? Only sort of.
dubbed the hardest working band in indie rock by Filter Magazine, with a cheery downer of a song that strums its way through highs and lows like heartbeat on acid.
