Best Coast to beat the blues

Nothing beats when you're blue and you know you can go to a music shop for guaranteed cure. The other day, I was drawn to my nearest HMV and I knew which album I needed to buy:

 

The lead song from Fade Away didn't seem great when I listened to its premiere online. I thought it was a too slow and by-numbers-Best-Coast. But it has hugely grown on me to the point of delightfully addicted repeat plays. The moment this song speeds up and explodes is pop joy abandon, pure sing along.

 

I'm not drawn by much widely-aired indie anymore, I've outgrown it or it just sounds typical, jaded to me. But Best Coast are dear in my heart. True, there is simplicity, but enthusiastically and heartfelt. Not only in melody, but I've always appreciated Beth Cosentino's candid lyrics, not afraid to sing about feeling messed up (sometimes drugs or drink) or washed up or tired and old, often in relation to fame or being on the road and in a band. That makes them sound dour (haha, they're really not, and if you know them, you know this well! but read Beth's Twitter for her repeatedly mega drinking tales for assurance, for one), but they always have me singing along, and often have me feeling like I could run along with glee; bliss. They bring a lot of sunshine, true to their name.

 

Beth's voice has always sounded refreshing. The heavy marketing of faux Cockney, and/or pale-and-prosaic-offensively-inoffensive-voiced female singer-songwriters that seemed to come in a neverending wake after Lily Allen set the precedent, makes Beth Cosentino a very necessary heroine, to me.

It's nice to stop and appreciate that even if I get jaded by a lot of current guitar based music, there are still indie pop bands for me to feel aglow about - moreover, that I still crave and love to go into new record shops and by new releases and rush them home. It helps a lot that a release like Fade Away by Best Coast also looks so urgently pretty to own as well; cover and disc.

 

Something puzzling is how many fans seem to be hankering for the Best Coast of their debut album. For me, that second album last year was strides above and beyond the first; showed how the band had grown as songwriters, to perfection. This latest mini album is an between major releases affair, so here's looking to the next album, and more Best Coast at their best.

Devendra Banhart, tame imposter....

What do you do when you realise you've spent three days listening to a disc that you were led to believe was the new Devendra Banhart album - but is, in fact, by Tame Impala? This album that says Tame Impala on it came in a Devendra Banhart sleeve, and was sealed with cellophane when I bought it... from HMV.

Does this mean someone out there has a Tame Impala sleeve, with a Devendra Banhart disc inside? And are they as confused as me? And do they want to do a swap, jigsaw puzzle style?

This has never happened to me before! I've been buying music from record shops for 20 years. I'd be intrigued to hear any similar tales... It goes to show how music can't always be central to life as I get older, that I didn't notice.

I really do dig this album. From the first listen, I was captured by the very different direction Devendra Banhart had chosen to take. Drums so high and pounding in the mix, electronic sounds, and a very big, fuzzy, hazy, echoing sound that I bet would sound incredible and even more echoing and astoundingly all-encompassing on certain drugs. It sounds so 60s and so Beatles-y, that I just cruised along, merrily accepting that this was Devendra Banhart. The music is very plausible, in its Beatles-like 60s way - he's a huge hippie. It's the voice that I kept questioning. It sounds exactly like John Lennon, especially on the first track. I just ended up assuming there was some sort of John Lennon machine and Devendra had channelled his voice through it. His own voice is much deeper, so this album has been jarring with me a bit and making me wonder, it being so much higher... like it was a different vocalist.

I didn't look at the label on the actual disc much, only the album sleeve, until today. So when I picked the CD up today, from the player, and inspected it absent-mindedly for the first time, I suddenly realised what was actually written on it was Tame Impala. For a split second, I thought it must be a misprint, I'd gotten so used to this album being the latest Devendra Banhart release...

But now I'm in the position where I can't locate any receipt, and I'm wondering: do I want to go in and ask for the Tame Impala sleeve, then wait till I can buy the Devendra Banhart album... Or go and demand my copy of the rightful Devendra Banhart album and let them sort it out with the distribution company... Or keep my wonky, unique musical artefact... No proof that it is the mishap that I say it is, though...

You don't get this fun and serendipity with downloading music, now, do you?

Allo Darlin' @ The Half Moon, Herne Hill, London, 20th June 2013

The Half Moon in Herne Hill is a stone's throw away from Brixton. It's a stunning, historical pub, with a brilliant backroom for gigs. Last time I was here was for an all-day shoegaze/dream pop festival with a record fair. I was thrilled when one of my favourite current indie pop bands, Allo Darlin' announced a 'compass' tour of London - playing in four different corners, north, east, west, and here in Herne Hill: south (west). Tickets were instantly bought.

it's so nice to have a gig that is not in the typical, clichéd, 'cool' places of the moment like Shoreditch or Dalston - moreover, this was a pretty local gig for me, and travel was a joy.

I'm afraid the night was tinged with a little sadness, though, since - whilst looking online for stage times - I had come across a website noting the possible plans to convert the gig room into flats ! This trend - and the trend for converting pubs into mini, big chain supermarkets - is heartbreaking to a music fan like me, who thrives on tiny gigs. So I made the most of being in the venue with the utter privilege of this wonderful, fun band tonight. I took photos of the venue, although sadly it was too dark to capture the golden stars and chandeliers adorning the ceiling. I got a nice red-lit shot of the stage before the bands came on. And those plush, turquoise velvet curtains surrounding the stage too.

It was such a fun gig. This was my third Allo Darlin' gig, and the band always put a smile on my face. Elizabeth Morriss's own smile, and her pure, obvious enjoyment in singing and playing is so infectious. The new song sounded so strong. Since I didn't have names to note down set-list style, I, er, just wrote down the themes of the new songs: being stronger, nostalgia, Australia, living in a cupboard. The Allo Darlin indie pop songwriting skills are at work, so much melody, energy, and genuine emotion. Elizabeth Morris has one of my favourite singing voices, lots of warmth and feeling.

Sad for the blurriness of these photos, but we are lo-fi here.

The Wave Pictures were in support, with Darren Hayman style vocals, and songs of Johnny Cash's shoes, and whisky, and tales of the heart.

I had a good time, chatting to the Fortuna Pop people, who were kind to put the paper zine of The All Thrills No Frills Music Bill on their merchandise stall. Allo Darlin are featured in two issues! Another Fortuna Pop band, Tender Trap are also interviewed in issue two of the zine. Nice to bump into two people that were dining with Tender Trap and us the night we interviewed them, including a sound engineer for various bands including The Wave Pictures and The Lovely Eggs, and a DJ from Atta Girl club. I passed some zines on to be sold at the next Atta Girl club night, in Birmingham, which is this coming Saturday 22nd, at The Hare and Hounds pub. Wish I could go!

Rounded off the night by transporting myself back to my youth and trying on band t shirts for size in the gig venue toilets! Came home with a bright orange, sunny, lovely Allo Darlin' t-shirt, plus replaced our digital version of the recent, very excellent Tender Trap album, with a physical CD version. And that's how gigs should be, amazing venues, full of community, supporting independent bands and labels and promoters who work damn hard in really harsh times, and where you come away smiling.

Record shopping joy / Robyn Hitchcock heaven again

I'm on a post-record shop high. I've come back with original 80s vinyl albums, a recent-ish vinyl single, and a live CD album, plus various flyers and free music magazine publications that I otherwise would not come across - plus importantly, I feel much cheered up.

In the current times, I was half-wary that I might walk up London Road to find Collectors Records shutdown, but thank god it was still there. Some good chat with Keith the owner as usual. When he consults his Record Collector book to assert facts, it's kind of humbling and wonderful - because young people would just whip out their mobile phones and hit on the Wikipedia website. It's sad to think that actions like that might not live on many more years. But you cannot beat in-person knowledge that you also get in record shops, and the click of like-minds.

I'm afraid I can't boast an eclectic roster of purchases to dazzle you with, as the allure of the H section of vinyl led to surprise finds of original Robyn Hitchcock albums, and I was hooked as usual. It's funny that for a stretch of a couple of years I could not track any of his albums down, even on CD, but in the last year they seem to be like psychedelic painted buses. I hadn't intended to spend as much as I did, but I know that had I turned my back, they would be gone by my next visit. I'm well aware that all these songs were re-released digitally via his site, and I even own a run of three or four songs from the first of the tracks here - but damn, the vinyl sound, all the tracks I don't know (for it is a compilation and not a standard album), the splendid artwork, and the mad liner notes which I will later get a certain person to read out to me perfectly later....

The album cover in its vinyl-size glory bowled me over to prove irresistible too. Robyn Hitchcock offering me a bunch of radishes, how can I refuse? AKA, they don't make overwhelmingly imaginative pop stars like this no more:

I also took up Groovy Decoy, a revised version of (plus bonus tracks) Groovy Decay, the latter being one which I had been thinking about needing recently. The album art for Groovy Decoy isn't nearly as marvellous as the original Groovy Decay, and I need to hear it as it orignally was, so that shall have to be bought up at some point too, despite how its seen by author, and others.

Listening to the above now. Getting giddy about the next Robyn Hitchcock gig again - his 60th brithday celebrations.

There are countless ingenius song titles from Hitchcock. Favourite tonight is: Point it at Gran.

The other records I bought were Nighthawks at the Diner, a live album by by Tom Waits, which is jazzy, mellow but amusing so far. And I took a risk on a new release seven inch single, because I needed change for the train machine! Not a convincing excuse, but... I always try to buy even just a little something when I am near Banquet Records in Kingston, a fanzine, a single... This was by Teenagers in Tokyo, which sounds so Cure-like with its sweet pop keyboards and perfect bass, I love it, the b-side of Long Walk Home, mainly.

Robyn Hitchcock is yelling: Kevin! Supper's ready! now, so I've got to go....

www.collectorsrecordskingston.co.uk

Further thoughts on music buying/HMV

Here's a genuine overheard person on a mobile phone - the location was a little secondhand book shop:

'I'm in a book shop'
[pause]
'I'm old school - I still buy CDs!'

My heart sank. And I just felt the really strong urge that I am not of these times. It was someone not that much younger than me. Something like that makes me feel so sad - it's so odd and alien to me that buying any kind of physical music product can be seen as, what, kitsch? A stylistic choice? Or just plain old fashioned.

I enjoyed Stuart Braithwaite's addition to the great HMV debate, recently.

He has a good point about extremely low pricing making CDs seem disposable when once they were £15. I remember paying £15.99 for CD albums that weren't even new release, and I remember cassette albums in their last days in the album charts being £15.99 too, which is pretty shocking to look back on. The in between always seems fair to me - and a lot of independent record shops have got that right, eg new releases at anywhere between £8.99 and £12.99.

And the below is too true to:

'As a trusted brand, HMV could quite easily have used its position to establish digital music sales far earlier and far better than it did. Filling its shop floors with iPods was surely an act of cutting one’s own throat, and I had a discussion with someone working in Waterstones recently who felt the same way about its stores selling ­Kindles.'

It will be interesting to see what changes get made to the stock/store policies should a buyer take over HMV.

It's incredibly hard for me to comment or get my head around any potential for there to be a next generation who expect all their music free and therefore for music buying to end totally, as I don't know anyone that feels that way, and the most hardcore music fans I know all adore and use record shops in towns and cities - they also tend to see the urgent need to support bands direct, buying albums and t-shirts at gigs so the band get the money direct, and so on. The thought occurs that new music is so much more ubiquitous now than when I was a teenager, there is almost no escape, and TV shows and advertising in particular have gone indie soundtrack in a way that baffles me that would not baffle those growing up now - a song by Clinic in a Weetabix advert is still beyond comprehension to me! Music seems to mean much less in many ways, too - it is fashion, it is commodity more than ever.

I was recently excited to visit a new shop in the provincial town I grew up in, which specialised in band t-shirts (I'd harboured dreams about opening up a record shop there, selling albums and merchandise, as I didn't think just albums would be a success, in such a shopping-centre-driven place). Then I realised the horror that it was all in the name of fashion - it was all stuff that is worn more as a logo of cool/identity than fervent music fandom - a Ramones t-shirt now can sit alongside a Jack Wills one, it is just a style choice. I'm not the first music fan to find themselves seeing band t-shirts in trendy high street stores, and to see people wearing them in the street, and find myself wondering if they even own albums by this band. I once had a flatmate who worked for a major record company but whom owned about 20 CDs, and I once saw on her packing list for a festival trip - 'Rolling Stones tee'. There wasn't a Rolling Stones record in the house, and no other reference to them to be seen/heard from her either. And there is huge peril there that that's a big part of how music has come to seem disposable to people...

On a brighter note, the staff at HMV Curzon Cinema seemed positive about the cinema remaining functional, due to the part ownership by Curzon - which is such a relief. Had some drinks there and celebrated. Also, bought a few items in the actual HMV store.

I leave the mini free versions of this 'zine in there regularly, but I do wonder who is picking it up, and I do wonder if there are that many 'old school'(!) music fans out there that are bothered about/interested in such a thing as a printed music fanzine anymore. Unless it becomes fashionable via an article in the mainstream press and is generally seen as some hip current phenomenon, it does seem to be a niche/dying art for a perhaps soon-to-be-lost generation - and it makes me very reluctantly... twee.

Another of my CD racks has collapsed. I had to smile to see that the Chris Morris album landed face up and was looking up at me (from the stack of stuff that was balanced on top of the shelf). It's not really amusing though - I wish I knew a carpenter. I wish I knew carpentry! I seriously want to learn. I want to be able to build my own super-shelf. The age of flimsy, shitty flat-pack furniture. I can't even afford that at the moment.

 

Best thing I have turned into a CD shelf - a wooden vintage wine box that some fool was throwing away. I also rescued this huge white shelf with all different compartments to it that someone has left up for grabs in the street - it's perfectly sized for LPs, then DVDs underneath. I'm very John Peel about my music collection. One day I want a special room just for it. I'm also a geek for filing, and keeping things nice, neat, ordered. It actually fills me with huge lament that my collection has to lie strewn in an out of order mess, all chaotic and unloved, until I can sort out a better shelving arrangement. I did see a lovely handpainted wooden shelf in a junk shop in Greenwich - but I didn't dare attempt to wield it on any train.

 

Anyway, points for shouting out the albums you can recognise. More points for recommending affordable decent shelving. Even more points for volunteering your carpentry skills...

 

Currently listening to a handmade compilation tape that I bought for a few pence. And it turns out I like This Mortal Coil. Or at least, I like the song 16 Days. Also enjoying hearing the full version of Is This the Life by Cardiacs. You know, I had bought the single on 12 inch vinyl, from someone's front garden sale in Hampstead (bizarrely came across it one afternoon a few years ago), only I left it at someone's place and their cleaner has thrown it out - or is a secret fan, hmm.