In Photos: Green Man 2009
Our rundown of snaps from 2009's Green Man Festival featuring Andrew Bird, Emmy The Great, Gang Gang Dance, Wilco, Jarvis Cocker and more.»
Our rundown of snaps from 2009's Green Man Festival featuring Andrew Bird, Emmy The Great, Gang Gang Dance, Wilco, Jarvis Cocker and more.»
Green Man 2009 finally saw the sun shine gloriously upon its little corner of the Brecon Beacons, heralding an extraordinary assemblage of talent and perhaps its finest year yet. DiS had a ball...»
This weekend sees DiS hotfoot it to Wales for 2009's Green Man Festival and boy, we can't wait. Here's a Spotify Playlist celebrating some of the festival's finest, as well as a few words on some acts you might do well to take a punt upon and the festival itself...»
Primavera Sound 2009 had one of the best bills we've ever seen, with an eye-boggling array of talent on offer. Here's what our intrepid writing team came back babbling excitedly about.»
Plenty of goodness to choose from this week, we've had a whole raft of albums reviews, mostly well received records and then the Brand Neu! compilation. Phoenix and Future Of The Left both scored 9s, as did Camera Obscura. Funny what a little sunshine does to people's moods, eh? Anyway, in the time honoured tradition of representation of DiS's content - both editorial and board-wise - here's the week in the form of a Spotify playlist. Get it here.»
When you’re dealing with a band like New York's creators-of-1000-foot-waterfalls-of-colour Gang Gang Dance, who intuitively blend genres with no regard for boundaries, it almost makes sense to dissolve the interview/gig review/album review format...»
After years on the outskirts contentedly beating away, Gang Gang Dance have suddenly provoked some interest around their noisenik carcass. For almost two years now the New York outfit have struggled to record and release the follow-up to 2005's God's Money, so DiS met up with Tim DeWitt and Liz Bougatsos ahead of their performance at Cargo and the release of new EP Rawwar...»
It's like a festival having been circumcised, serving a purpose but lacking in providing anything much in the way of true enjoyment. With reams of tickets going spare in tight pockets, curling like thin-cleaved skin we begin the joyless, 12-hour odyssey home to bed. No sleep on concrete, no sleep on trains, with little to rationalise the ache...»