Pure Heroine

Lorde being compared to Lana del Ray is a pretty obvious step - they sound similar, and sing about similar things, the main difference being just how young Lorde is. But this album would be good no matter how old Ella is, and making too big a deal of her age makes the praise sound verging-on-patronising. It's ennui-ridden synth-pop, and credit has to go to Joel Little for the musical production that I think really elevates the album from bored-teen to something worth listening to on repeat for a couple of days.

It almost feels like a reaction to the 'YOLO' spirit of a lot of music - instead of glorifying party culture, Lorde declares that she doesn't want to put her hands up in the air. If I'm honest, I can't help that imagine/hope that some of the songs will find greater resonance with people older than Lorde, if just because I doubt she has much experience of the lifestyle she seems to be critiquing.

It's the beats that really get you on this record - it's as though the xx produced a del Ray record. It's not a flawless offering; a lot of the tracks blend into each with a samey-ness that could quickly get old. The vocals are hypnotic, and although there might not be anything especially new about any of the themes or tricks she uses, that doesn't mean she should be written off. In Lorde there is something that it is increasingly difficult to find - a 'pop' star who doesn't seem so overly manufactured and bubble-gum pink that she becomes someone we love to hate, just someone we love.

Back to Breakaway

 
I talked a while back about my efforts to grow out my hair, but I've given up on that at last and got my crop back. It's been less than 24 hours, but I'm getting back used to it pretty quickly. Of course, all the people I've met since moving to Bristol are having to go through a period of 'oh wow, you cut all your hair off', but since everyone (so far) has been very complimentary, I don't mind too much!

Bakewell Tart

Bakewell Tart is pretty much my favourite thing - frangipane, fruit, jam, glace icing and flaked almonds is a combination that I'm never able to resist, even more than chocolate.But of course, I'm hopeless at actually making it, my sponge is always too dry, so I'm slowly becoming a connoisseur of bakewell tart from coffee shops and bakeries. At the moment my current favourite is from Boston Tea Party (who also do excellent coffee and soup). It's just the right amount of balance - not too much jam, generously applied icing, and the picture above is of half the slice I picked up this morning, no skrimping here.

The Preatures

Sometimes I find a new band, do a quick internet search, and feel like I'm a million miles behind the rest of the world. Take The Preatures for example, a five-piece rock band from Sydney - it turns out they were The Guardian's 'New Band of the Day' back in August, and they've already lined up a couple of London shows that I'm crying inside a little for not being able to go to. With an EP released in the past week, a music prize under their belt to boost their finances, and their first international shows upcoming, I'm hopeful that the Northern hemisphere will get more exposure to The Preatures soon.

The Guardian described The Preatures as 'post-Haim', and the sunny, slightly 'surfy', slightly 70s-esque rock they produced is certainly the sort of sound we've all come to associate with bands from the West Coast of America - but given Australia's similar surfing pedigree that isn't hugely surprising. Isabella Manfredi's vocals have that slightly eerie quality that I find incredibly appealing and that's pretty common these days, with just enough of an air of Stevie Nicks rather than Kate Bush to have rock-swag.

They list their influences as The Patti Smith Group and The Pretenders, and that late-Seventies punk influence is certainly there, but softened somewhat with occasional touches of 'pop' strains and country vocal turns. They send songs out into the ether that cannot fail to make you want to dance around your room, and then drag all your friends around for a dance-party, tempered with a smattering of 'slow' songs perfect for sitting and looking out of the window on train journeys listening too.

There's a chance I was supposed to be studying this afternoon instead of falling down a music hole, but then when the results are this good, it's 100% worth the mad cram on Wednesday night. I'm going to go listen to 'Is This How You Feel?' a few dozen more times...


I discovered The Preatures via Wonderland Magazine

I'm a Bore, Mostly

Shirt: Gap, Skirt, Topshop, Tights: M&S

I've found a positive to my current use-your-phone-as-a-real-camera game - when you're wearing about the grungiest outfit you ever wear, it's really easy to edit the poorer quality shots to look like slightly gritty film shots. And let's be real, that's what all the 'hipsters' are doing now anyway, so going with the theory that hipsters are really just the In-crowd now, that makes me cool*. The skirt is actually one of those pleated, chiffon-y, see-through-y ones that were everywhere a couple of years ago, and the little mini skirt that's supposed to stop me sharing my knickers with the world is a right pain, so I don't wear it much, but every time I do I swear I'm going to wear it more (I went into every Topshop I saw for at least 2 months hunting for it, so the effort deserves recognition in the form of number of times worn).



*Don't laugh too hard

The Bones of What You Believe

Indie synth-pop is having a moment, to borrow a fashion phrase that needs a time-out. With London Grammar, and now Chvrches, the air around me is filling with catchy hooks and a smattering of Eighties influences that for once aren't punk related.

Chvrches, with all their super-catchy dance-around-all-day hooks, their deliberately low internet presence (less so now, but you have to know to find them) and a sneak-attack on the airwaves of glorious proportions, are the current faces of a not-so-new sound that's replacing moody guitars as the soundtrack of choice to peoples' teenage angst. Not so much of a teenager anymore, and not so full of hormonal angst, and Chvrches are still a part of my musical horizons. 'The Bones of What You Believe' is fun, it's happy in that happy-songs about heartbreak way, it's a welcome contrast to the pop-punk that the walks home in the cold dark autumn air has been calling for.

Self-produced and recorded in a basement, Chvrches are clearly doing what they want to be doing - this is their sound, and the whole image of the album is what they must have intended from the off-ing. In a time when so much is being said about the way that labels are trying to manipulate their artists to fit what they want to sell*, a new band taking their music into their own hands in such a way is refreshing and reassuring.

Glasgow is a music scene that I often forget about, until something like this blows up and makes me wish that it was easier to highjack other cities' hidden music scenes without having it all being so far away...

*see statements by Lorde, and the story of why Futures decided to leave their label and start their own

Victory Over the Sun

Jumper: Topman, Shirt: H&M, Shorts: H&M, Leggings: ASOS, Socks: Accessorize, Boots: River Island

Heading back to the world of classes, I seem to be heading back into full boy-mode as well. So much so that despite the 'effort' that's gone into growing my hair, part of me wants to chop it all back off again. I've also managed to add my camera to the list of things that I've misplaced in the move, which is a pain and means that the above was taken balancing my phone on my bedroom mantelpiece, which is not the best way to do things.

It's starting to get cold now, which my American friends are lamenting (they're from Southern California and Texas, so this is a push for them), but I'm rejoicing the turn towards layers, boots, and coats. There's something very comforting about wrapping up in coats and scarves, digging your hands into your pockets and stomping on fallen leaves that makes me a little warm inside.

Not Acceptable in Suburbia

Yesterday, I sat down in a cafe, ordered food and, for the first time in what felt like weeks, breathed. I didn't have any schoolwork with me because I was only going to do one shift until someone called in sick. I didn't really have anything with me, other than a jumper and a change of shoes. No notebook, no music, just me, sat in front of a veggie burger. It was a relief, I won't lie. Even when I'm not at work or at my desk studying, I've been socialising or running errands. At first it was nice to be doing so much after a long summer of inactivity, but I needed to stop. And really stop, not call a friend to catch up, or snatch 5mins in a quiet park, or walk the long way round for a quick break. I'm tired, and I need to switch off more often, or I just know that I'm going to crash, hard, soon. This blog is for my downtime, to ramble about things I love and the places I'm discovering around Bristol; now that I'm starting to settle into a routine, I'll have more time for this sort of thing.

The song below is pop-punk, so different to other things I've posted here, but after the EP's pay-what-you-want release a couple of days ago, this is a song I've listened to a lot. Mostly for the lines "'cause I'm a hero after fi-ve" and "burning daylight at both ends", which seem fitting lately, but also because I feel somehow stronger when I'm running around Bristol listening to something with so much conviction and badass-ery.

If You Wait

Even though this album has been out for as long as 'AM', with the move and the accompanying need for musical hot water bottles, London Grammar have taken a backseat in my listening habits, which I regret after introducing new friends to the band last night (this morning? it's all a happy blur of time).

At the beginning of the summer I explained London Grammar to a friend as being like a more up-beat version of The XX. It might sound like an unoriginal comparison, ignoring the full range of indie-synth-pop around at the moment, but I stand by it. Part of what makes both bands so enjoyable to listen to is the way that they use silence as part of the music - there are whole beats without any sound, which could be jarring but I find interesting. It's almost as though they've approached composition in the same way that you would a 'classical' piece; the silences fill out the music a bit and in a way that you don't often hear with 'modern' music.

Reid's haunting vocals (I seem to use this adjective a lot lately, sorry...) and the depth of the sound make a pleasing counterpoint to a lot of 'pop' music now. The trio also manage to bridge the gaps across a couple of genres in my mind, edging towards trance at times and their previous collaboration with Disclosure only serves to highlight their versatility, especially in comparison to their nearest musical cousins in The XX.

Sometimes I have a slightly take-it-or-leave-it attitude to flyleaves and CD cases, even the slightly 'arty' ones, but the blurry, long-exposure, warm tones and the feel that this is a record very much a part of the London landscape (thankfully, considering their name), and the mini-poster included is already earmarked for a space on my bedroom wall, once I get round to such things...