Also, check out this new radio station www.strongroom.fm, they've only being going a month but have already secured radio shows from the Ninja Tune boys (featuring Coldcut, DK and DJ Food), Moshi Moshi, BBE, Wichita, Ross Allen, Dazed & Confused, Vice Magazine, Clash Magazine, Raf Daddy from The 2 Bears and Data Transmission to name but a few.
Wankers who go to Oceana making music for wankers that go to Oceana. Don't get me wrong, I used to love going to Oceana on a student night where a pint of Stella was two quid and if you didn't get off with an equally inebriated girl you could fight on the extra aggression the Stella gave you; win win.
This is music made for people who actually believe that the tunes in Oceana are alright, for people who think that The Script are the most emotionally important, socially relevant band of all time. Look at these tossers, they're basically tuneful Frankie Cacosa's without the cocaine and the tats.
They tick every box in the manufactured for tossers check list.
Shit, "straight-out-of-bed," hair that makes them look like a bloody lego character? Check.
Delicately styled, bum fluff beards? Check.
Nonsense, pseudo-poetic lyrics? Check.
Feined, cracking voice to try and kid you into think he actually gives a toss about anything else but where his next Bacardi Breezer is coming from? Check
Those horrible, skin tight, v neck t-shirts that are cut down to the wanker-who's-wearing-them's belly button, leaving plenty of room to see his oiled pecks and his TopShop brought cross, the cross of a man who's never been to church and if he really, really listened to the music he buys off iTunes for his one gig iPod shuffle, would realise that logically, there can't be a God? Check
I read a recent article in perhaps my
favorite supplement out of all the amazing supplements on the market, the
Guardian guide, which spoke of the rise of new funk, quoting Nite Jewel, championed here before, as being one of the
innovators of this.
The article complained about bedroom producers making largely sexless, electronic music, ironic considering the environment in which it was made. I found myself agreeing, it has become fashionable to make minimal, space-less, syncopated bore music, like some Hurst-esq conceptual art or Mr and Mrs George Osborne reading quarterly budget reports in a sexless bed before lights out.
What happened to the soul or the rhythm? I suspect many don’t have it but have been able to thrive thanks to this chastity belt currently frigiding music. Thankfully Jai Paul is here with the key, unlocking those rusty hips and making music the sexy slag it should be with this track, Jasmine.
The article complained about bedroom producers making largely sexless, electronic music, ironic considering the environment in which it was made. I found myself agreeing, it has become fashionable to make minimal, space-less, syncopated bore music, like some Hurst-esq conceptual art or Mr and Mrs George Osborne reading quarterly budget reports in a sexless bed before lights out.
What happened to the soul or the rhythm? I suspect many don’t have it but have been able to thrive thanks to this chastity belt currently frigiding music. Thankfully Jai Paul is here with the key, unlocking those rusty hips and making music the sexy slag it should be with this track, Jasmine.
The vocal echoes across itself, it's a simple panning technique in which it's only a millisecond behind in one ear but it's so effective and the repetitive nature is lullaby like and surprisingly tuneful.
Such a cool beat on this track, pretty hard to pigeon-hole it apart from being banging so I won't.
My SoundCloud pen-pall with yet another incredible mash-up, the beat is the instrumental version of The Recipe by Kendrick Lemar feat Dr Dre and the vocal coming from Pitbull featuring Trina and Young Boss in a track called Go Girl.
God dam it I broke my own rule and I've posted something by Ed Sheeran but this remix is something else, it chops the lyrics up enough so you don't have a chance to truly learn to hate the crass content of his lyrics, instead it replaces that processing space with fantastic strings, soothing bass lines and those chopped up beats. Thanks to Fred for pointing this one out, fuck you Ed Sheeran and all you stand for, Koan Sound has temporally saved you.
This builds in to something really magnificent, like waiting for a lift and watching the numbers on the screen slowly ascend until the door opens to reveal a group of synchronised peacocks doing a ritual dance whilst looking you straight in the eye and miming along in perfect lip sync.
I am always banging on about how important weird and interesting sounds are to me in making a song good and in this one it's the sound of echoes like those produced by a submarine, It reminds me of that final scene in The Hunt For Red October, when Sean Conory and what ever member of the Sheen family was good back then, are smoking a cigar up on the deck of the Submarine. They're coming into dock, Conory having defected himself, his crew and the submarine to the American side and he's looking forward to the prospect of settling in America.
Soon that green screen, sunset dream is to be shattered by the reality of Mitt Romely genuinely trying to claim, in the 21st century, that contraception is a bad thing. Even Putin and his brash nationalism is a better bet to that wanted, murderous stupidity.
If you haven't brought The School of Seven Bells album Ghostory yet, this expansively beautiful tune should be the reason why you should.
We've all been there, the end of some night where you've had a few too many pints, you get back and there is nothing on TV accept for the 10th re-run of series five of Family Guy on BBC three, all other channels are either off air or frankly boring, so you end up flicking to Babestation to see what the mostly unsexy girls are up to, it's nothing perverse, more like checking in on the live Big Brother stream to see what the gang are up to, these contestants are just willing to do more above the covers with the lights on and are upfront about wanting the camera to see them.
The auto-tune part of this song made me think of Cher, at which point any sexyness that can possibly be salvaged from Babestation was lost to the thought of her gyrating in squeaky leather on a red sofa, gargling "do you believe in love after love," whilst she beacons you with a long, witch like finger and you start to believe that love has never existed and never will.
http://soundcloud.com/cosmojarvis/gay-pirates
The best song about two pirates being gay for each other I have ever heard.
When I first heard this it reminded me of Baker Man Soul Clap remix, from a DJ point of view they'd go to well together. This is from Manchester's xxxy who's EP Everything is out on 16 April on Well Rounded.
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