Kelis
In Depth
Isle of Wight Festival 2012 - The DiS Review
As you enter the festival grounds through the main entrance you pass through a series of coloured banners emblazed with song titles. It feels appropriate that ‘Teenage Wasteland’ greets you with a campsite awash with abandoned tents sprawled out like castaway boat sails – and this is on the first day. However, it’s also clear that everyone is determined to have a good time and if you need a constant beer jacket to make a mud bed bearable then needs must.»
Bestival 2011: the DiS review
Bestival’s reputation for fun has been earned once again.»
Spotifriday #108 - This week on DiS as a playlist ft. St. Vincent, Summer Camp, Kelis
This week's Spotifriday playlist featuring Summer Camp, St. Vincent. Memoryhouse, Big Deal, Jens Lekman...and then some! »
Drowned in Sound's albums of the year 2010: 50-11
The albums' of the year countdown hots up with the main body of the list. The top ten follows tomorrow but for now, some thoughts from site founder Sean Adams who compiled this list... Somewhere, somehow, there is a link to be found between the rhyming i»
The Big Chill 2010: the DiS review
Those pining for the old festival will probably have to accept that those days are gone now, and that this new incarnation actually appeals to a lot more people even if – although there’s now more of almost everything – there’s also now less that’s truly unique. Still – that’s progress for you.»
Glastonbury (Saturday): The DiS Review
Glastonbury Part 3: Saturday Much like Gorillaz', my Friday night was a bit of a squib, passed out as I was by 2am, feet poking out my tent. The weather’s playing hardball today and some acts are preferred by dint of them playing in the shade - look re»
Hunting mammoths in the city of iron: Melt! festival, day two
Up we went, lead by Mammut, jumping the security fence. Stole in and bounded all stealthy over to the machine, the biggest machine in the park, over by the lake. We clamber over the gate and start our ascent, buoyed on dust and wander up through its rippling, rusty guts like monkeys in a metal thicket; ‘til we’re right up, legs dangling 100 tingling feet off the ground, grinning and half-gurning in the canopy...»
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