TinPanAl has written the following articles:
A story of two halves, then, but viewed on their own candy-striped terms, you’re only ever as good as your last 45, and on that basis The Sugars are still waiting to get born...»
Sick to the back teeth of rock’s eternally recurring leitmotifs? Looking for a way out that doesn’t involve pretending to dig freeform jazz? If your answer to both the above is “yes, but not as bored as I am with your rambling intro”, chances are you’ll need the heads-up on Domino’s latest signings, Wild Beasts...»
I hate comparing stuff to Neutral Milk Hotel. It’s like comparing light bulbs to the sun. But with their ability to write beguiling melodies over the most bog-standard of chord sequences, and an unmistakeable penchant for the judicious use of rousing, bittersweet horns, that’s exactly who Fanfarlo bring to mind on a good day...»
None of my business, I know, but maybe London post-rockers The Early Years should consider changing their name to The Zen Foetuses or something...»
It’s not going to win them any new fans, and they could still do with a bona-fide ‘choon’ to satisfy the more rhythmically impoverished among us, but otherwise this is massive, an ominous declaration of intent from the executive arm of the Leeds hi-hatocracy...»
Much as we enjoyed Karen O’s transformation into a pathos-peddling rock goddess of globe-straddling proportions in 2006, some of us were left itching for a rock ‘n’ roll fix dipped in the same glitter and spunk that made Fever To Tell such a brazen thrill. Thank Christ for The Noisettes then, who’ve gone and made a spangly pearl necklace of a debut that drips with more positive mental attitude than Sting having a tantric wank...»
It’s weird. We’ve all heard (and sniggered at) the one about New Yorkshire, but tonight that phrase seems appropriate in a way its scene-mongering creators couldn’t possibly have intended...»
Last seen reducing lovely-bit-of-assassin-crumpet Natalie Portman to gushing tears in Zach Braff’s indie whingefest Garden State, hopes were riding high for a third instalment of profoundly joyous, literate guitar pop from Alberquerque’s finest...»
