Sunday, February 25, 2007

Old News

So my fileden account got suspended, I suspect because I put up that Johnathan Rice track. So I now have a new account, but consequently a lot of old links won't work. Sorry. Fresh starts and all that, though.

Hot Chip

Look After Me

Hot Chip can, at times, be the essence of electro-beauty. Like poetry read in silence. Synths played with eager hearts. A postal service for the new romantics. The sounds of a letter being delivered through the letter-box. The letter is from a old lover. Your romance was painted in many colours. A full palette was used to describe the two of you and it ended sad but hopeful. There is still fondness in the memory. There is still beauty in the retelling. And if ever the two of you were to meet again you'd be best friends, old lovers with no history other than a history of hugs and more hugs. Affection.

Words can't describe the beauty sometimes. Sometimes a photograph truly is worth a thousand words. And sometimes music is worthy of no words at all. Imagine sign language to those with perfect hearing. Offer your friend a bed in your room and let him lie down... put on Hot Chip and provide him with tea and a biscuit, even if he's not sick, he'll feel better after listening. Listen. Listen. Listen. [Buy]

Text written 14th August 2006

Scala Choir & Kolacny Brothers

Teenage Dirtbag (Wheatus cover)

It's the quirky piano line. It's the staccato. It's the fact that a five-year old could play it with ease. It's the fact that it's youthful voices, full of purity, singing, in unity, about the youthful hassles of growing up. It's quirky, eccentric, popular, and pure. In its essence is happiness. Right beside the happiness lies silliness. It's novel. The novelty may wear out. But for now, it will do. [Buy]

Text written 12th September 2006

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