Moogie Boogie in London - Euros is back in Town

It’s been a long time since the roogie boogie visited this part of town. I’ve been all caught up in suits and presentations and unable to get any thoughts down other than those that generate pay slips.  I haven’t been writing about music. And sometimes listening is not enough.

Where’s the fun gone in all of this?

Luckily Euros was back to revive the vibe. 

Euros Childs has been officially released from House Arrest and is now out and about to bring us light ( and some dark) in the winter evenings.  It’s been two years since he was last in this part of town. So it only seemed right that I should spend time in his company two times – and as luck will have it he decided to play two wonderfully storming utterly beautiful ‘shows’ in London.

So the roogie boogie is back. Well - a different type of roogie boogie

Double the time and double the pleasure.

And it’s always a pleasure when Euros is in town. His errant psychedelic left field skewed view of the world can’t fail to delight. And delight it does with the packed house in North and South London on a Sunday and a Monday evening this week.

Tonight Euros and Rosie are a two piece bent on giving us a rocking good time. It’s a different experience to the Roogie Boogie band but no less intense. The addition of a new Moog strengthens the bass and (rouche) rumble within the mix. 

Moogie Boogie.  

And at the Sebright it’s genuinely heart shaking –  the moog that is - although that might have been where I was sat – or where I’m at.

The stage is set up and is reminiscent of a low budget indie Rick Wakeman – lots of keyboards and wires (and a phone – for the drums  - well some of them) and a lonely two piece kit at the back. And whilst Euros isn’t playing a brand of noodling prog rock ecstasy there’s a nod to it – especially the wigged out psychedelia of Dust – heard on both nights in a mighty melee of sound and confusion  – all fingers and palms and repetitive bass. 

As ever Euros entertains – how can he not –  and there’s something magical when these songs come alive in packed houses – and both were packed houses.

The 'House Arrest' tour has only just begun – date after date in carefully considered venues across the land and Euros always seems to choose interesting venues  - both shows in London are in great places – I arrived early on Sunday to the Sebright Arms – a lovely venue – with fantastic sound- tucked away behind a main road in Cambridge Heath. 

Euros has a new long player to plug and sometimes you head into these journeys knowing what to expect – but this time I wasn’t sure – I had listened to the album once – in fits and starts – I had some idea of melody and lines but hadn’t yet immersed myself in Euros’s world. So there was that thrill of the new – the unexpected in the air.  

This was also Euros without the Roogie Boogie band  - it’s a new band I guess.

It’s the new thing. 

I also had my picture taken by a man who was convinced I was Vic Reeves. He wouldn’t let  it lie.

Rosie opened up for the main event ( at the Sebright) in the guise of 'Oh Peas' with soaringly tragic and introspective black anthems about loss and love. Not exactly cheery – but bleakly magnificent if you like to shed a tear on a Sunday. 

Then Euros arrived to the theme from Ski Sunday  (which is actually called “Pop Looks Bach’ pop pickers)  As you know by now a Euros concert is one underpinned by incredible songs and heartfelt laughs – he never misses a beat – the audience murmur to each other beforehand that seeing him always leaves you happy – that he makes you laugh ( in a good way) 

And that’s the Euros experience in a nutshell – I’ve been watching him in various venues for years now and always leave feeling some how happier. The set tonight is a mixture of the new and some old – but it wasn’t what I expected.  Songs are pulled from House Arrest, Refresh, Cousins, Bora da and Son of Euros – I think. I never got hold of the set list so I’ve been trying to piece it together in my head.

I wasn’t sure about 'Refresh' on first hearing – it was difficult and seemed to be facing inwards – explosive in the layers of samples and resamples. But if you keep on in there it is refreshing (see what I did there?) And 'Pick it Up' is exceptional in its airing on both nights – basically a rallying call to pick up the shit on the street, in the park, on the beach. It takes a mundane thing and transcends to the magically. It’s about shit – shit on your shoe, in your hair – it’s thoroughly far out.

On stage Rosie and Euros flit between synths ,drums, guitar ( well not so much the guitar)  and phone (for the drums  - there’s an App for that) to summon up melody fuelled monsters of delight. There’s that open honesty in the songs that is somehow infectious to the watching audience – creating connections from the darker end of the street. Songs about eating disorders – Euros needs a list tonight – hastily pushed to the side of the keyboard to name all the foods that 'Christy and Misty' get through  – not to mention the waiter who ends up on a spit  and with its tempo changes and refrain you get a sense of Sgt Pepper – especially Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite, or the obsessive 'Shower' taker – safe within the waters of his own home, the yearning ambition to pursue a 'Stuntman' career, the trials of being a bag – a 'yellow bag', an incredible version of 'Peanut Dispenser' - which surely must be it's first airing in years and years - and I haven't been able to shake it from my head for days - or just the bliss that it is to exist in a 'Happy Coma'. Which gets us all singing the chorus and empathising that not all things are bad. Well not until your life support is switched off.  

And of course colanders. Mine is rocking back and forth. How about yours?

The set tonight is wonderful – the sound is sharp, taut and visceral. And we get 'Look at My Boots '– at first a stuttering attempt at the end of the set that eventually becomes 'Jane (Not her real Name)' from Cousins – which is a bonus.

But then correctly in the encore.  A song of studied coolness about boots and fridges. 

Waiting for Euros to comeback on after lights down at the end of the set you can feel that energy he creates – the crowd are chanting – I’m clapping – they are clapping – we are all clapping and there really was a roar when Euros returned to the stage – he’s a well liked man – they are a well liked band in these parts.

But I’m out the door on Sunday - no time to wait in queues for CDs and signatures – but it doesn’t matter as I’m seeing Euros in Nunhead the next night – closer to home.  

Nunhead is a different affair – all knitting clubs and real ale. The venue is a community run public house and venue – it's a nice place – with gold lame curtains on a foot and half high stage – sort of ballroom blitzed.  Tonight there are two other turns before the main event – Garden Centre a fella and basically a neurosis belting out childlike squalls and screams about things I have little time to care about.  And then The Gentle Good who's worked with another Mynci  - all intricate picking and lilting songs of moths, birds, love and open water, the rightside of folk for me – not overly jumpers and roll ups.

Tonight the entrance is to the Monty Python Theme (actually called Liberty Bell – pop pickers). Now just so you know two nights of Euros really isn’t that excessive in my book – but I had been asked why I was going again considering I’d seen the band last night. I don’t think I need to explain it really – I’ve said it here before – being in a room with Euros makes you feel good. And I could see some familiar faces in the crowd – we’ve been standing in rooms with Euros for sometime.

We will continue to stand in rooms with Euros.

We like it that way. And I was only coming from down the road – I spoke to a Japanese woman – Fujiko (I think that’s her name) who I have seen at many of these nights – she had come from Tokyo. So let’s get it in perspective.

I like Euros Childs. Lots of us like Euros Childs. She really likes Euros Childs.

Tonight was just as brilliant. A set peppered with the same songs from the previous evening but mixed up a little. The sound was dense – and didn’t pack the clarity of the Sebright Arms ( ‘More drums’)  – if I’m being critical -  but there was still the beauty in the room.  ‘Turning Strange’ sounds magnificent on both airings over the weekend – in theory its 80s sounding chords shouldn’t work – but Euros weaves that simplicity and feeling through it. It has a Brian Wilson nod – like it could have been co produced by Dr Eugene Landy and ended up on Wilson’s first solo album.

It’s mesmerising. Full of harmony and warmth. 

It’s on the new album – you should buy it.

You probably have.

And then with a final flourish they finish with Godmalding (pronounced – God -Mal -Ding to help with the scansion – as it didn’t know it was going to end up in a Euros song) the night was over.  

I hope that Euros is not placed under House Arrest for another two years. 

He's been missed. 

But just so you know he will always have a welcome roof in this part of town.

You can buy the album from the man himself  from here  You can also get all the other albums too - and you know they are all worth a listen.

The House Arrest continues right up till mid December - see him before he returns home and gets locked back in again. 

Here are some videos from Nunhead The Ivy House - I can't find any from the Sebright Arms ( credit to the people who filmed them  - thanks) 

When the cider starts flowing

I’d quietly started sipping the apple juice in a boogaloo bar on the other side of the street – I guess they were still putting out the chairs in The Red Hedgehog – because I was uptown in Highgate to see the ever wonderful Euros Childs ‘in concert’.  A sudden blast to the end of 2014 – a new long player (well 32 minutes or so) from the man himself and a series of dates to accompany the release of Eillaaig. 

The Boogaloo bar was once the haunt of Shane MacGowan and his brand of roogie boogie - his picture was on the wall – he was by the fire – he wasn’t on fire – I guess that would happen though – accidentally set himself alight – on an any given night.

The cider was strong in there. And when the cider starts flowing there’s only once place we’re going. To see Euros Childs in an intimate venue across the road.

The cider was flowing there too. All bottles from off licences sold at twice the price for a good cause. In fact a heady mix of strong cider and the eternal waft of a lit joss stick greeted my arrival to The Red Hedgehog. For some reason I chose a seat which pretty much meant I was looking at Euros’ back for most of the night. Just like the poster advertising the tour.

It would have felt a little odd to be seated right in front of him. You know Mark Chapman like.

Now - you know my unwavering bias for Euros Childs. So this review of sorts will simple tell you to go see him – buy his new album – and ask him to make another one – so we can all do this again next year.  So here goes – as I said the cider was stronger than me – I hope to recall the night the best I can.

The support act for tonight was Euros Childs – so it was two sets for the price of one. Never knowingly undersold is Euros. So the first set was the new record by. An odyssey (and oracle) of piano and words – like watercolour brushes dipped in water – trails and swirls. The new album -  Eillaaig – which I presumed was welsh – well he’s from another land this man – is actually a made up word – there is no translation there is only it’s fixedness to this album. It doesn’t translate to any world language – but then again Euros seems otherworldly at times – all angles and twitches – spreading utter joy wherever he lands.

This album is other worldly.

The album has this Satie/ repetitive/ Brian Wilson/ Mozart triads (that’s not a gang – I’m talking about the notes) discordant subtlety throughout it – mixed with sentiment and feeling. Of walks and old buildings – wood and smoke – it kind of conjures up the air – you feel like you’re outside when you’re listening on the inside. The piano is taut – crisp like winter mornings – but slowly filling with warmth as your cheeks begin to glow in icy sunshine.  Simple bass notes – holding the ethereal floating top end in place – not letting it drift away.  It’s full of honesty – and reminds me of arriving in halls for ‘singing practice’ dusty floors and piano masters (sorry that makes me sound so public school – it was comprehensive schools in Scunthorpe I’m referencing here – just so you know – I mean it maaaaaaan)

It’s classical in so many ways – possibly conceptual.

The Red Hedgehog was probably the right place to play. It had this awkward honesty about it to – all woollen hats and slight confusion. Euros seated at the far end surrounded by red chairs and candles and general tat – pushed to the back. The majority of the new long player is instrumental – you don’t always needs words. And besides we’d get those in the next half.

Suffice to say – It was great to hear this – without already hearing it first – a bold move on Euros’ part?  Not really – I think his audience – and it’s always growing – this night was sold out after all – I think his audience can take the risk too. You are always pleasantly surprised/ satisfied by his music making and I’ve been playing the album every morning since hearing it that first time.

It is my winter warmer.

So with the album played and hands clapped – Euros departed in readiness for the second set. It was costume changes and roadies testing equipment whilst we waited.

It wasn’t. It was an empty piano and more joss sticks. 

I don’t think there was a costume change – but there was an ‘entrance’. Appearing from the back to rapturous applause Euros was back (and of course my view was his back) to play some more – to put the soul in the rock and roll (or was that Denim?) This wonderful set mixed the old and the new – with his usual humourous insight and meandering tales we are accustomed to as part of the Euros audience – as I said there’s a gentleness to this star performer – that comes out in a humble manner – but he does make me laugh. He could do an ‘in conversation with…’ evening and it would be just as fun. Ok – well nearly as – because when Euros breaks into Ursula’s Crow (can you break into Ursula’s Crow – he’s not Elton John milking the masses?) you remember that it’s the songs that make you sing and grin.

He has that touch – light and airy meets well timed delivery. With a run through of some of the wonders of Situation Comedy (Second Home Blues and Tete-et-Tete)  and Summer Special (That’s Better ) and the majestic Ends (the Open Window, Spin that girl around, Parent’s Place – you can find how that song gets me elsewhere in my writing about Euros) And a thankful  outing for Bread ( I don’t mean we stopped and popped to Gregg’s) all baroque and crust – one day Jonny will release a second album – Euros said so – it might be the Joe Meek one.  There was How Do you Do from Son of Euros, Dust from the Cousins album and a wonderful version of Pretty Ballerina by The Left Banke that nearly rounded off the night. Euros should do a covers album at some point. You know it would be beautiful.  Euros even waited for a member of the audience to get back from the toilet. Well that was me – I told you about all this flowing cider and where it leads. And besides there was only one toilet – the other was screened off – for the rock stars I guess – or possibly because of the plumbing.

Euros finished off the night’s proceedings with a glorious uproarious Poodle Rockin’ finale. And that was it. Huge applause and shuffled chairs. Out into the bracing night air with a (miracle) grin and a wide eyed stare.

I don’t think I can make the later London shows – it feels treacherous – but there are young ones to look after and presents to buy and wrap and turkeys to feed and crackers to stuff or something. You never know – I just might find myself there.

An evening with Euros is somewhat irresistible.

Buy his album.  Buy all his albums. You even get a note from the National Elf himself. And elves like to make us happy at Christmas (or summat like that) 

I haven't got a video of the night - so here's a link to Euros' sound cloud site: 




And a lovely version of The Open Window

Here's a couple of Likely Lads - Grin and hear it (see what I did there?)

Grin and bear it. A smile to fend off the ills of the world.  You get those feelings sometimes as you work through the final days of a long old haul at work – roll on the break. Chin up old man – we’ll see it through.

So here come The Wellgreen to spread their ever changing scene to the masses. It’s a new album see – another long player from the best players. Song number one – Grin and Bear It – sets the tone - like an updated Bay City Rollers with swagger (and there’s nothing wrong with that)  – you can feel yourself transported back to housing estates and blurred photographs of the family – with that boogie woogie backing – a sudden transmission from 1974 – similar to The Beach Boys rocking rocking chugging chugging roll of LA (Light Album) messed with a Wild Honey moment.  I think one the Rollers came from Prestonpans  - the other side of the Scottish tracks from these lads – and I get that sense of concrete and glam(our) melded in this stomping sure fire starter.

Like the opening to a sit-com scheduled just after The Likely Lads – there’s a flutter and smile in it all – I guess the album mines some of those Macca moments that run through With the Beatles right up to his last album – but as always - I can hear those Beach Boys chords and changes playing with my expectations – with fluid bass lines and familiar patterns - this long player feels like I already owned it – and that’s a good thing. The familiar (feel) flows through the nine songs on this lovingly crafted second album. I know my references will be obvious and not the ones that are clearly playing a part in the development of this set of super songs. (But tolerate them if you can) What I love about this album is that I can’t put my finger on the sound. As I said before – it’s the familiar. And that’s comforting.

There’s a whole heap of style – delivered with wit and honesty across this second album. Less sprawling than the final parts of their first. The songs sit well together – it’s a player – you know those days when you’d put a record on – play side one – turn it over and play side two. It has that feel – even down to the CD print (it looks like a record – you see’ll that when you buy it – and you will buy it – come on its Christmas for fuck’s sake – treat a friend – they’ll be your friend for life)

And the second song’s a smasher too – still with the feeling of flares and scuffed  shoes comes Sunday – not quite Monday – but I don’t like Mondays – shall I tell you why – it’s because I like Sunday – here’s the simple soundtrack written in glam high notes and pauses. Saying that, it has a feel of The Who’s  A Quick One – observational and sing-a-long . Quickly followed by gig staple Ants – hemmed into a Merseybeat sound – with sudden stops and descends – Ants scurries around the mind and sticks there – like the wee bastards in the houses. I don’t mean the The Wellgreen are wee bastards - just in case you mis-read me – I also picture them as red ants in the song ( another throwback to my seventies youth) And so to further the journey comes Train Song like a Simon and Garfunkel (with a hint of Freddie of the Dreamers – it’s the simplicity of that Casio beat) coupled with arpeggios courtesy of the MT100. With Marco and Stu lamenting that they just weren’t  born at the right time. Well they were. Because it means we have this music now and not in the past as nostalgia – it sits right here in 2013 as a testament to the fact that they can just write songs that aren’t affected and processed in a bombastic manner to knock the feeling right out of them.

I’ve said it before  - the fragility of The Wellgreen is there in the space and harmony. Which leads aptly into Counting  all these moments - one for the road – in the middle of the album - this isn’t looking back - this is the result of writing beautiful songs in homes late at night and into early mornings – it’s dancing with your partner through the days. It’s looking into eyes and falling in love – its casual glances and shared looks - it’s heartfelt and honest.

Then up pops Remember opening with a Zombies flourish and Hal Blaine snare rolls – coupled with those simple – yet always effective harmonies from Stu and Marco. Oh and how we wish for a harmony in the modern world. I was talking with a friend sometime ago and we were discussing how every boy band of the modern age ( you can define that) has failed to recognise that harmonies are what made the Beatles great – and now they just belt their parts in the same key and inflect everything in the same old fucking  manner (Ladies and gentlemen I give you Take That – I mean come on Gary – have a listen to The Wellgreen) Now with The Wellgreen there’s a measure to the mix  - sound complimenting sound – this is music made to be  played on the radio – you know -  the big radio – all over the country – harmonies like this sound wonderful through small speakers.

As you can see – I’m going track by track – I don’t usually but I wanted to put something down about each one. Because I said before without the writing how would we know – so next up is Impossible Love – mining those country roots all Gene Clark going solo  with The Fanclub for his backing band. It’s melting harmonies time and somewhere in there is a touch of Mike Nesmith going it alone.  I guess the whole album has this emerging seventies sound – a nod to what the sixties produced but taking it somewhere else and of course updating for the now.  Saying that, Summer Rain with its Bacharach moments and the return of the Everly Brothers should be sound tracking an eighties teen coming of age flick. Sublime. There’s music for every decade.

Leading to the finale of On Our Own, this heartfelt tribute to just being in love – you know the feeling – we’ll take the world on – together – just you and me. It has a Wings feel to it – now I’m no Wings fan – I couldn’t name another song other than the hits – but it’s the structure and the tone – lovely. Soaring stuff. 

So The Barne Society have done it again – this ever growing collection of beautiful tunes, wordsmithery and risk all packaged in their unique way. I’m glad The Wellgreen have a new album out. And it is an album. All killer – no filler. So to put it in a most simple way – it’s good that Stu and Marco find time to sing – to write – to record - to release it -  because it pleases other people.

It makes me grin. It will you too. 

This is Summer Rain 'off the new album' in Glasgow - with added guitar

There's also a stream of the whole Barne Society Christmas shindig - but I can't find the link again - so google The Wellgreen, The Barne Society or go to soundcloud and find The Wellgreen, or Marco Rea or Stuart Kidd - basically click stuff and listen - you know it's worth it. (I'll sort the links soon)

This is the new record by

There was a chance twitter feed – a facebook post – and suddenly there was a new album – new sounds from the past. Existing out there in spite of the industry - maaaan. A rush and a push and the songs are ours – they just threw them up on the net. This is not how things used to be done. The times they are a changin’. Everyone has gone a little Bowie – a touch Radiohead.

You used to have to live with the anticipation of something emerging – hints that the band were recording – that they’d played a new song live in someplace in Norfolk. You might find a bootleg cassette at a record fair in Doncaster with the track listing saying ‘New One’ on it. Could this be on the new album – would it sound like it did on the tape – would the lyrics have changed?

I saw The Smiths in 1985 – in Scotland – a short tour of the isles – an intimate thing before the onset of superstardom – if you count getting to number 14 a blast of the big time (mind you  - you did have to sell more records then – to be in the charts) and they played Frankly Mr Shankly and Bigmouth Strikes Again – two new ones – real things played for our very ears. A glimpse of something fresh coming our way. It made the wait that much harder – us – that is my Scottish counterparts and I knew that The Queen is Dead would already have two wonderfully lyrical ditties that we could fail our arms and look effete to. What I’m getting at is that the wait and anticipation of the ‘next’ album was both exhilarating and frightening.

Or seeing Smile performed by Brian Wilson in the Royal Festival Hall. These familiar songs all fitting into place as Wilson let us all share in his vision – his sound and vision. It wasn’t released at that point – it was bootlegged and shared and discussed and whispered about  - this long lost long player – and now we we’re hearing it. And we knew it would be released. It built the anticipation. It filled the waking hours. Okay – not quite – I had a newly born beauty at that time and she was taking up most of my thoughts – they tend to take most of them these days too. I do remember buying SMiLe though – I was so worried that the local shops wouldn’t be stocking it (this is in London mind) that i left work – boarded a train to the centre of the city and purchased my copy in HMV on Oxford Street and then zoomed home – to the loft to listen and feel the psychedelia (do you get me?)

Our two bit rock n roll band once played some merry dates with Primal Scream and I remember Gillespie playing Automatic by the JAMC over the PA – it was just out and he was digging it. This new record (well cassette) in his hands. Was it living up to expectations? In Bobby’s eyes you could tell he was happy – you could tell that this third record by his friends was a beauty – full of scowl and growl – tight drums and loud guitars. There’s something beautiful and tangible in a new release – a new record by.

In some ways I’ve known this record was coming for years – we knew Kevin hadn’t given up on music – on sonic experimentation – on turning his amp on and making a racket. No he’d continued that trend since the inevitable collapse/ demise/ retirement of My Bloody Valentine in the early 1990s. There where snippets and gossip – map references that led us nowhere. So Sugar given away with a magazine was a song buried in layers of dirt with squirming guitars and rolling electronic drums – a continuation but a difference. Then suddenly nothing. Rumours on pages and casual conversations that heralded Shields as the new Lee Mavers – obsessed by ancient equipment and elusive sounds that couldn’t be drawn from his head to his strings – from his hands to his amps. It was as if we forgot that Belinda, Colm and Debbie also played a part – they have ideas too. So over the years Shields became this revered thing of sonic manipulation of playing with the very foundations of pop music. Ephemeral and concrete – loud and soft – right there with you but dancing in the distance. I have downloads and bits from ballets and outtakes but what I didn’t have until Saturday was the new record by My Bloody Valentine.  There was a fading hope that there would never be a new record by My Bloody Valentine – but here it is.

And already there’s disappointment floating and filling cyberspace – oh if only it had been more like this – or I think it should have pushed the boundaries more. You know as if the valentines were a contrived thing like Sigue Sigue Sputnik – out to unite the pointless and facile. They weren’t making music that they considered new and dangerous they just happened to forge out this sound – you could see it building from This is your Bloody Valentine – it’s already there – visceral, pounding and in your face. They are a band who make music. Some of it sounds similar. Christ, The Beach Boys put out an album last year – it kind of had harmonies and eulogies to God on – maaan that’s so 67 – soooooo Petttt Sounnnds. It was bound to be. And this is My Bloody Valentine – the guitars take off like aircraft and shimmer like the heat on the pavement – they are loud and the words are not clear. What did you want a fucking U2 meets Radiohead type of vibe?

It’s music – and it’s very good music too. M B V is a wonderful modern album – an extension of and looking back at the past. Why? Because it was always going to be like that. And I’m alright with that. I do think the sound has changed though – it sounds more live in its feel. Guitars are scratched and strummed – they feedback and jar at times. Nearly drag the song to a standstill. They sit on top of the mix – they are instruments in themselves – not the wash and blur of Loveless. It feels a little hurried – which is ironic – you know twenty years in the waiting all that. Perhaps it is the download copy I have - but the songs stop and start – they explode into sound whereas Loveless just felt like it floated along – these songs were there to breathed.

But it isn’t Loveless – and that’s fine.

I’ve already found myself singing along with the opening tune – making up sounds like a male Liz Frazer to fill my lack of real words. It takes off from where Loveless ended – it skips around the houses – pops to the shops and ends back where it started – with flanged double speed breaks and stuttering guitars.

There’s always been a beauty in the noise that the Valentines create, something aching at the heart of it. And it’s there tucked inside every tune – a fragility covered in bombast – as guitars breakdown and seek therapy. This post shoegaze psychedelic melee – this unique sound of a band as an army – taking down the enemy through sonic prowess. I fucking love ‘em. Once again I trawled the comments and barbed quotes about waiting 20 years to post a review because that’s how long it took to release the album and someone on The Guardian debating whether Throbbing Gristle were the real experimentalists – of course they were – but we’re not all listening to them on a regular basis. They hurt your ears. Someone even managed to get into a spat about whether Ned’s Atomic Dustbin really had pushed the boundaries in the 1990s rather than My Bloody Valentine. There was no irony – or a knowing wink – it was all genuine.

The thing is – Shields and co have released a beautiful noise ridden long player – it isn’t polished – it is neither contemporary nor rooted in the past  - bar those early 90s drum and bass riddim breaks. It sounds like the valentines – it has new songs on it. Brian had to follow Smile – Jonny Carson on Fifteen Big Ones was not a step forward – so why are we wanting and expecting more from this? In some ways I wish there was more of the ambient textures of Loveless – that unif(r)ied sound that captured waking in a dream. I used to listen to the Tremolo EP at New Cross Station – up for work and travelling to Euston - on a cassette player from Boots – kind of a walkman – but you could record with it – and those songs used to merge with the outside world – sounds swapped over – cars, birds, trains and announcements, conversations and shouts, bleeps from ticket machines and the very thoughts inside my head mixing in the spaces and shapes that they created. I used to drift to work.

So here drums are buried and sounds layered – except this time you can seem to tell when Belinda’s axe is riding over Kevin’s – this is a guitar band writ large. There’s the sound of computerized bass – but with added feeling – and tremolo guitars in a song like ‘new you’. Or synthesised organs, like a futuristic ‘Meant for You’ and heartfelt honesty in ‘if this and yes’. Then grinding repetitive posturing in ‘nothing is’. It’s like Panda Bear got angry. If you understand what I mean.

This is the new record by My Bloody Valentine. I like the new record by My Bloody Valentine.