Another of my little indulgence pieces for you today (although I suppose really, ALL of these articles are indulgence pieces) as I was thinking; “well, it’s been almost a year since I’ve written about Bob Dylan” and in my mind, that’s just not good enough. However, I hope to do more than just praise the music, as that’s been done to death already, not least by me. There is a specific point I wish to make about the nature of rock music, the direction in which Dylan’s music was firmly established by the time he performed this concert in 1966.
Regular readers of this blog will know I have an occasional affinity for videogames, and regular readers of my twitter (you poor saps) will have noticed I have a specific affinity for top-down neon murder activity playset Hotline Miami. Those familiar with Hotline Miami will know that the music is a huge part of the game, and as music in videogames is an undervalued resource it seems important to discuss one of the few times they have got it right. In Hotline Miami the music is foregrounded and is a crucial component in the game feel, so this will be a discussion of Hotline Miami as well, because the music doesn’t exist in a vacuum within the game.
At last! I am finally free from the straightjacket of revision and examinations, a day I have oft longed for, but scarcely thought would ever appear since I began studying for these exams waayyyy back in late March. One would think that in the time it’s been since my last article I would have accumulated a backlog of ideas, pieces of music I’ve just been itching to write about, but this isn’t quite true… I tend to eschew any attempt to acquire new music in this stage, merely relying on a few old favorites as my solace and reward for a hard day’s work. So I have no new work to write about. But enough of my non-problem. (I can read and write. That alone gives me an advantage over half a billion people in this world. This isn’t a complaint, just an explanation) Just because I’ve no new music doesn’t mean I have no music. Today I bring to you the delightfully quirky Do You Like My Tight Sweater? from Anglo-Irish duo-couple (at the time) Moloko. The title of the album is supposedly the chat up line used by the very beautiful Roisin Murphy, lead singer, to Mark Brydon, musician and producer. I for one am glad Brydon was amenable to her advances because it gave rise to the formation of this delightful duo, and this, their debut. One of those albums that refuses to be ignored, every time I think I’m done with it, the desire to listen to it overwhelms me once more.
Fifty years on, Detroit still rocks - Seeking pleasure with the Pleasure Seekers - IN SEARCH OF SPACE #173
Right, bannerhead time, right over this whole review in red and yellow stripes – police line, do no cross – warning to all readers, this blog is going to get blue and get pretty personal too so if you’re at all prudish, one, get over yourself, we all do things, alone and in various parings and the sooner you get over that the happier you’ll be and two, in the meantime you’ll be right turned off by this here piece of prose. You were warned. Any relatives accidentally clicking on this, please please please stop reading now.
This post has been languishing in one of my computer's less reputable digital orifaces, so if some of the references seem a little out of date it'll be because I haven't proofread it since I finished it. Deal.
I want credit for spotting Heliotropes. I wasn’t the first, I ain’t that big headed. But I believe if you track back the tag on this very blog you’ll find reference to the band being the Next Big Thing and the Cure For What Ails Us. Usually my predictions for the future come true because they’re pessimistic (although realistic, ‘cause they come true, geddit?) but I’m really overjoyed as I listen to the stream of their official debut (out on Manimal Vinyl, go forth and consume!) that Heliotropes have come of age. They have drunk of their milk and emerged more in themselves, more confident and more muscular in their instantly identifiable brand of ‘poppy doom’. Sadly now that Spin are ranting about them I realise they’ve grown up and don’t need internet gutter snipes like me anymore.