Videodrome: The Click Five - Catch Your Wave

"Well every princess has her knight/ And I'm still in it for the fight/ Not giving in/ I'm gonna win/ Win/ Win."

Despite the dubious anthem of menstrual-love itself, there’s so much smugness here that needs to be forgiven. The hair, for a start. That white-suit sky-jump styling. And then the person who deemed crawling out of cupboard space to be a compelling video moment. But you know what? Just tell me the fact you can burst into ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’ over the chorus isn’t redemption enough! Ah, at last – the modern emo-pop derivation with a 60s melody I can get behind; because McFly are just too, you know, jangly.

Honestly, this band needs to accept that they are just a great covers act. ’Lies’? ’I Think We’re Alone Now’? Exactly.

Buy ‘Greetings From Imrie House; from Amazon


Happy Birthday to Me...

So it turns out that a year has passed since that fateful day when I first thought ‘Wouldn’t it be kind of fun to have somewhere to write about good pop?’ I won’t get all sincere and say how much this has actually brought into my life; instead, I’ll give you some of the songs and posts which I’ve enjoyed the most. Tis the season for those end-of-year lists anyway…

(All mp3 files are live)

Robyn – Be Mine
Clor – Love + Pain
Kelly Clarkson – Since U Been Gone
Laura Cantrell – 14th Street
The Faders – No Sleep Tonight
Ted Leo & The Pharmacists – Me and Mia
Willy Mason – Oxygen
Vanessa Carlton – White Houses
Jimmy Eat World – A Praise Chorus
Rachel Stevens – Negotiate With Love


Imogen Heap - Headlock

“You say too late to start/ Got your heart in a headlock/ I don’t believe any of it.”

I didn’t realise how much of life I lead instinctively until it was two am and words were falling from my mouth that a year ago, it would have been inconceivable to utter out loud. It’s not just that I trust my emotions, it’s that now I think I understand the cost of over-ruling them with reason and habit. Those structures of interaction we inherit and never seem to break free from; I know now the damage they do in a way that my teenage self was still figuring out.

So they way that I respond to this song – to Imogen’s music - on such an instinctive level makes it that much harder to vocalise. The way she builds that reality; so subtly layered with powerful cello undertone and the rush of synthetic bass – it just seems to trip along my neural paths in a way that goes beyond what can be analysed with an apt phrase or two.

Usually, when I can’t form the coherent thought to express myself, I ramble – hoping that my excess of words will somehow align themselves in the air in front of me, shaping some clarity from the confusion. But this pulls me back into silence; away from the words that build my world, into nothing but the ring of blood in my body and god, that sense of possibility.

Bonus: ’Daylight Robbery’
Buy ‘Speak for Yourself’ from her iStore


Nickel Creek - Best of Luck

“Don’t touch/ Don’t look/ Don’t feel/ Best of luck.”

I don’t forgive easily. Actually, to tell the truth, I don’t forgive at all. The past is such a messy place, weighed down with sum totals of emotion to be cautiously stepped around in path towards the elusive ‘letting go’. Each slight is an indelible mark I can only hope to scribble over; at least the further I get from them, the easier it is to melt away the memory. And every awkward evasion, every angry hiss is bound up in the way Sara spits “It should have ended there/ But I forgot I wasn’t eighteen.”

There’s such satisfaction when you feel a band has finally come of age; emerging from light musings with a fruition of jagged chords and haunting melodies that drive their hollow rage deep through you. Pinched notes ringing static; the crash of instrumental tide. Every note it pulled taut, a grind of cello base clashing the high pick of banjo. Their harmonies are always a joy, but this… This is so full of resentment and softly spoken rage, it’s delicious.

Bonus: ’Somebody More Like You’.
Buy ‘Why Should the Fire Die?’ from Amazon


Videodrome: Gwen Stefani - Luxurious

"We're luxurious/ Like Egyptian cotton/ We're so rich in love/ We're rollin' in cashmere."

No, no, NO!

Gwennie, darling, sweetie, dearest? Step away from the piñata!

See, I’d like to take you on a little journey through my ideal pop world. In that place – that special place – the current single is actually ’Bubble Pop Electric’. And instead of the land of acrylic nails and hideous fruity fashion, it’s the 1950s. The Harijuku girls are in poodle skirts; Gwen's makign out with Jonny Vulture in the back of a red convertible at the drive-in; there are waitresses on roller-skates. And, more to the point, the music is actually crazy-blissful good.

Isn’t that world a better place than this?



Fan 3 - Geek Love

“I wouldn’t call him fly/ Suspenders and a bow tie.”

Ah, the universal woe of the geek. Mocked and derided for much of their schooldays, legend would have it that these boys emerge from the cocoon of alienation with strength and chivalry, ready to sweep in and rescue women when they finally tire of their Jordan Catalano’s and are ready for real love and intimacy.

Sure. Truth is, it’s the former geeks we’ve got to worry about most, since they’ve usually channelled every moment of hurt and rejection into misogynistic fury that gets unleashed in their eternal quest to rid themselves of those stood-up, let-down memories. If we dropped by to see what poor Brian Crackow was up to nowadays, he’d be a bitter shadow of his former (obsessive, stalker) self*; copy of ‘The Game’ in one hand, mirror in the other. Steer well clear, girls.

If only Fan were on hand to disarm the bastards-in-training with her sweet ode. She likes your straight As! She digs your lack of style! She’ll ignore her friends when they ‘behove’ her to abandon you! And all to dulcet tones of elevator mood music. Bless.

* Aside from the fact he actually is a muscular, Roswell lothario

Bonus: ’Boom’. Um. Yes. Odd, isn’t it?
Buy ‘Fan 3’ from the Fan 3 site


A1 - Same Old Brand New You

“You know it doesn’t turn me on/ Singing that same old song/ You don’t want to find me gone/ Gone/ Gone, gone, gone.”

Oh man, even though it’s only four years old, doesn’t this just transport you back into a blissful world of late 1990s pop? You remember: those days long before superior production and the superpowers of Kelly and the Girls and Rachel made pop a valid cultural choice. Back when it really was just pre-teens and gay clubbers who could legitimately consume this kind of crazy camp nonsense without shame. In the olden days, you really had to own your pop love without the handy, post-ironic veil. You were stranded in the deathly uncool domain of kitsch with no popstarz to save you; no underground mp3 collectives to validate your rebel status. There weren’t even any real blogs!

But, oh, you had A1! The bargain-basement punchy synth beats, those 90s-drenched harmonies – I can practically see the robo-god dance-thrust routines gyrating before me in a haze of coordinated denim and skintight vests! And damn, but they could construct a pitch-perfect piece of cherry-pop pie. (Think they’re unworthy of such alliteration? Take a listen, my dears, and think again).

Isn’t the bridge here an art form? Doesn’t the “Same old lie/ One more time/” quick repetition transcend the boundaries of traditional taste? And the vo-coders! The ‘Up a key!” two-thirds joy! Listen and weep, my friends; weep for the days when this kind of song actually got to number one.

Bonus: ’First to Believe’. Oh. My. God. This is pretty much the most exceptionally, joyfully, gaily fantastic epitome of divine dance disco-pop love. Ever!
Buy ‘The A List’ from Amazon UK


Something For the Weekend - Tyler James / The Dead 60s

Tyler James – Foolish

This guy manages to swing the whole nu-lounge-jazz-lite revolution thing with enviable amounts of style; mainly because he thinks he’s the spotlight-steady, swoonsome star of his own existence, rather than, say, the twenty-something with a questionable moustache and that redundant cover of ‘Your Woman’. Still, the pouting smirk of a vocal and jittering beat manage to outweigh those damn Xtina ‘I can sing, me’ gymnastics he throws in at the end.

Bonus: ’Why Do I Do?’.
Buy ‘The Unlikely Lad’ from Amazon UK

The Dead 60s – Riot on the Radio.

Do I like this…

a) Because it’s the sound of the new, authentic, and totally innovative ROCK REVOLUTION that’s sweeping my fair nation?
b) Because, like, omg, the singer is sooooooo hott!?
c) Because that jangle of riff and relentless pace is really rather spectacular?

Buy ‘The Dead 60s’ from CD Wow


Mindy Smith - Come To Jesus

"Child/ When life don’t seem worth living/ Come to Jesus/ Let him hold you in his arms.”

Years of stained glass sermons and disapproving glares drove the religion out of me. Hard wooden pews and endless repetition of phrases that meant nothing but somebody else’s control. I would sit in church and breathe the echoing calm before the tirade; beautiful buildings ruined by ugly words.

Then came logic and reason, arguments and awareness. Cynicism, even. If I couldn’t have faith in mere mortals, then what good would it do me to trust an abstract being? Philosophical texts undermining every argument; deep suspicion of such a destructive thing.

Explicitly religious songs make me incredibly uneasy; again, the dilemma of content versus form – hot beats and all. I can’t help but feel preached to, unable to immerse myself in the music because of my fundamental rejection of the message. But then there’s the child in me who prayed every night for eight years even though she knew she had no reason to. The part of me that longs for the comfort of belief – the certainty and resolution people seem to draw from foreign metaphysical realities. Castles in the air that somehow give such a solid foundation.

Somehow this song transcends my every objection and cuts straight to that spiritual need. Warmth, strength, security – every reassurance bound up in her poignant vocal and powerful refrain. I can believe in her vision of a God, the usual platitudes here ringing true instead of hollow, because her message here is the very essence of what religion should be about, before the fear and hatred infects it. Something beautiful, something precious.

Bonus: ’It’s Amazing’ (it is).
Buy ‘One Moment More’ from her web store


My Chemical Romance - I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

“What will it take to show you that it's not the life it seems?/ I told you time and time again/ You sing the words but don't know what it means.”

I’m late to the party, but I made it here in the end. They didn’t want me: chasing me away with their goth antics and scary eyes, so convincing in their ‘We’re alternative angry music, we are!’ act that I foolishly accepted their claims of wrath and misery. Oh how wrong I was! Not until I was bouncing around the room in crazy dance-mode that the pop genius of this song finally dawned on me.

That’s right, pop genius. With bounce and drama and hip-jaunt poise. Yeah, yeah – I know they want to be all tragic and serious and stuff, but alienation angst just doesn’t fly when the end result inspires such joyful leaping!

The melodic drive of the chord progression; the air guitar solo; that slow hand-clap section, it’s all so wonderously hyperbolic. They may well be wallowing in desolation, but by god they’re going to do it to excess! I don’t know if they meant for it to have this effect on me – like I doubt Cameron Crowe wanted to have his audience rolling in the aisles with inappropriate ‘E-Town’ laughter – but surely the unexpected pleasures are that much more precious?

Sing it with me: “All the/ Small things!”

Bonus: ’Ghost of You’.
Buy ‘Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge’ from Amazon


Miranda Lambert - Kerosene

“Forget your high society/ I’m soaking it in kerosene/ Line them up/ And watch them burn/ Teach them what they need to learn/ Ha!”

True anger and arbitrary cruelness are hard to find in mainstream media, at least with a female attached; sure, we get emotional and distressed, or righteous and principled, but where’s the reality? The rage. The violence. The regret-free vengeance.


The characters I find most compelling are always the women who deal with their darkness, who don’t run screaming from the concept that they might occasionally want to inflict pain without melting into a pool of guilt afterwards. The Faiths. The Veronicas. The women who may even take pleasure from it. Which is why this song is such a delight, cutting through her legacy of insipid balladry with a harsh nasal vocal you don’t find much in commercial country anymore – aggressive and sullen, and more to the point, ohso magnificently angry.

Underpinned with raw drum thrust and ragged banjo, the vitriol is clear and insistent. So seductive is her power that you barely notice there’s no chorus to speak of. Me – with my love of the crescendo, the surge of ‘You make me want to LALA!’ or “I’m not HOKAAAY!’ – is happy to take her ‘I’m giving up on love/ ‘Cause love’s given up on me’ caveat, not even more than a repetition and then the harmonica instrumental solo!

(It’s almost enough to make me forgive her for ‘Me and Charlie Talking’)

Watch the fantastic Video
Bonus: "If loving you's the death of me/I want to die".
Buy ‘Kerosene’ from Amazon


Lene - It's Your Duty (Shake Your Booty)

“Some people are born to shut up/ And sit behind a desk/ Some people are born to be safe/ And cannot take a risk.”

‘What’s the point of this?’ I get asked. ‘What’s the end result?’ The thing is, I’m not sure there is one. I don’t take ad money; I don’t tend to post what the labels want me to. Aside from the accidental odd freelance gig I’ve been approached for, this place is entirely about the mission of pop: the pleasure I get from knowing I’ve just introduced an amazing song into somebody’s life, despite the fact they may want to write off the entire genre wholesale out of misguided principle.

That isn’t to be underestimated. There are people – a hell of a lot of people – who don’t know who Robyn is. Haven’t heard Rachel Stevens’ album tracks. Wouldn’t recognise a Clor song; or refuse to listen out of a notion that mainstream pop is nothing but a genre of Westlife crap. Sure, they aren’t the majority of you reading; you are the fluxogram early-adopters. But finding it is half the battle – Petridis went in search and all he found was Pitchfork and MySpace. The hot party is harder to find, but worth the search. This is the good stuff – the joyful, transient moments that enrich and inspire me. I think about how much this music has brought to my life, just by being there to soundtrack my existence – and I don’t even listen to the pop for most of the time. Pushing these songs out into the ether is for my personal satisfaction alone. Never heard that Broken Social Scene before I posted it? Derive even the tiniest amount of pleasure from it? Then my work is kind of done.

Take Lene. She should be known – after all, there was Aqua. There was writing the masterpiece of 'No Good Advice'. There was a video with neon and secretaries and red leather. But no, her songs languish in the forgotten realms of pop, even magnificence such as this. Oh, relish with which she smirks! The thrust and slow drive of purpose and flippant pointlessness! So… She’s my gift to you today. And you probably won’t be changed forever by these four minutes, but maybe the song I post tomorrow will do it.

Bonus: ’Surprise’.
Buy ‘Play With Me’ from CD Wow for ridiculously little. Like, ‘£5/$8 with free delivery’ ridiculously little.


Something For the Weekend - The Futureheads / Lady Sovereign

The Futureheads – Area

Stopgap single before the next album, it’s simply laden with the ‘do do do’s’ and trademark harmonies that make these chaps one of the more interesting ‘wohoo, angular British guitars!’ acts out there. Jaunt! And shouty bits! And general goodness!

Buy ‘Area’ from iTunes

Lady Sov – Addidas Hoodie

"Look that young woman, Lucinda, She’s so cute! How tiny, how adorable! See, not all the youth of today are foulmouthed, corrupt young… But, isn’t that a hooded jumper I see? And, now that I think about it, doesn’t she look… poor? Like one of those filthy council estate children we have to pass on our way home? RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!" Ahem. I’ve got to applaud the girl for distilling Middle England’s fear of the underclass into a song that’s actually about having a lil’ dance despite the fact people don’t like your clothes. Don’t you see? Not just anti-ASBOs as a tool of class oppression, but a rallying cry against scenester preoccupation with club aesthetics over musical experience! Or, something like that.

Bonus - ”Get Random’ with the laziest vocal.
Buy ‘Hoodie’ from iTunes


Rosie Thomas - Pretty Dress

“Everyone will laugh/ They’ll point fingers at you/ And be cruel/ But come a few years and they’ll listen/ Because you’ll know much better than them/ Someday.”

I don’t think we ever outgrow our former selves, as much as we might desperately try. That vision of the person we used to be will always linger in the back of our minds, pushing us on to be so much more, or holding us back with whispered insecurities. I cling onto things long after I should; years have passed since that friendship or this betrayal, and although I might have managed to put them aside – drain them of their pain or significance – they’re still there. Shadows; barely alive; but still there. Another motivation to succeed, more hollow than the rest, because I will never see acceptance or praise from those people in my lifetime – no matter how much I want them to validate the person I’ve struggled to become.

I love Rosie unconditionally as an artist because I find her songs always make me believe in a different world, just for a little while. The world where cruelty is punished, strength rewarded, and everything really will be alright in the end. The lilt of soft melody; the elegant sweep of strings. Her voice soothes me with promises of justice and precious emotion, an almost maternal voice of reason wiping tears away and lulling hopeful children to sleep each night.

This song is fuller than most – a more confident vision that backs her fragile voice with rich composition – but still, it spins that myth and cocoons me in a warm shield of rightness. Because these are the Great Lies that kept me going, back in the weeping, mournful years of my childhood. And if I hadn’t at least believed that they was true, that “Nice little girls grow up to be homecoming queens”, then I don’t know if I would be sitting at this old wooden desk now: manuscript pages at my left, view of the deer park to my right, and an untouched stack of metaethics reading tucked away in the corner while I focus on more important things.

These things may be untrue, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a reason for believing them.

Bonus - ”2 Dollar Shoes’ to match that dress.
Buy ‘If Songs Could Be Held’ from Subpop
Visit Rosie


Videodrome: Shakira - Don't Bother

Funny how the presence of a half-naked man convulsing to his death as our pop goddess coyly grins in the background can lift a good post-break-up vow of sufficiency into the league of awesome joyfulness. Instead of strings or un-IDable production squiggles, She of the Transcendent Hips employs a haunting electric riff to underpin the track with a gentle coherency; trademark beat-style and vocal layers lending their distinctive touch. And as always, the lyrics born from her strange mind command adoration.

“For you, I'd give up all I own/ And move to a communist country/ If you came with me, of course/ And I’d file my nails/ So they don’t hurt you/ I’d learn about football/ And loose those pounds/ To make you stay/ But you won’t.”

Watch the Video. Pink guitars and murder always being a good combo.
Buy ‘Oral Fixation vol.2 from Amazon


Hilary Duff - Beat of My Heart

"I want you to see/ I'm not scared to dance."

Damn those teen starlets! You – being a truly dedicated fifteen-year-old – put in the time with the dermatologist and vocal coaches, painstakingly nurturing your tumble-dried brand identity of wholesome delight until the adolescents of America clasp your anthems of empowerment and purity to their under-developed bosom. But a few years down the line, what do you find? Your fluffy, parent-friendly guitar pop has paved the way for their TV/movie-music crossovers! If it wasn’t bad enough that Lindsay stole your man (the tragedy of loosing Aaron Carter obviously causing sleepless nights and many a tear-stained pillow), now she and Ashlee are robbing you of your sound and teen angst fanbase with their risqué Leto-swapping, Ketel-fuelled shenanigans!

What’s a girl to do?

Why, embrace the uber-cool edge of the eighties synth-rock revival of course! You can’t expect mid-West pre-teens to know their Bloc Party from their Bravery, so roll out the bubbling, ominous electro guitar riffs; let rip the stuttered beats! In selecting only the finest sugar sprinklings instead of pesky self-importance, your Killers-lite is laden with enough sparkle and glee to drag even the most mournful Smiths fan away from his ‘Meat is Murder’ moping*. Bursting with lyrics of utter irrelevance and irritation, the loop drills into my mind until I’m dizzy with mindless swirl.

*In my ideal world, that is.

Bonus: ’The Math’ - “If you can’t do the math/ Then get out of the equation”!
Buy ‘Most Wanted’ from Amazon


Busted - Thunderbirds Are Go

“It always looks so cool/ When space-ships come out of the pool.”

The joyful amp-stack guitar riff leaps are no more; the boyband pop-punk crown hath been passed on, but in my mind, this trio shall live on – forever in a state of crazy prank-pulling and totally unrealistic self-perception. “But we’re a serious rock group!” they pouted, failing to make even the smallest dent on America – Charlie with his ferocious eyebrows, Matt with his Billie-Joe worship eyeliner, James with all the song-writing royalties.

Serious? I think not. And why would you want to be, with such triumphant anthems to offer the world? Bouncing with playful jaunt from the very first movie voice-over intro, I leap, I bound. Mattresses, couches, passing strangers, none are safe from my pogo antics! Oh, the frenzied string section! My, the shout-out chorus!

This is delirious pop joy of the highest order: enough to reanimate even the strung-along Thunderbirds themselves. (Anthea would be proud.)

Bonus: ’Air Hostess’ - “I messed my pants/ When we flew over France”!
Buy ‘A Present For Everyone’ from CD Wow


Something For the Weekend - S Club Juniors / Gretchen Wilson

S Club 8 – Sundown

Things I miss about the early ’00 pop scene:

Synchronised dance routines I always secretly wanted to learn.
Matching outfits with a two-colour scheme that rotated for every song.
Group acts with the prerequisite demographic blends of the cute one, the closeted one, the ker-azeee one.
19 Production productions
Evil svengalis who made you question parental sanity. I mean, leaving your children in a room alone with Lou Perlman or Simon Fuller?
Slick, meaningless pop that actually charted in the top 5… instead of, like, 12.
Pre-reality stage-school training grins.

Buy ‘Sundown’ from Amazon UK
Bonus: ‘New Direction’ - dated but darling.

Gretchen Wilson – All Jacked Up

The girl knows about rhythm, that’s for sure. Rollicking along with jaunty twang and hip-swivel pacing, this breezes through a hard-drinking night on the town with general hi-jinx, debauchery and slick country production. Don’t drink and drive, y’all.

Buy ’All Jacked Up’ from Amazon


Will Young - Switch It On

"Got to/ Got to/ Got to go crazy!"

At last! No more fireside jazz-lite, no more balladeering; for one blessed single at least, the idol has rejected his crooning fall-back position in favour of crazy camp dance domination. What with the Blunts, Cullums and Jameses of the British scene stealing his Radio 2-friendly, housewives-favourite territory, the boy finally has seen the light, stripped off his cardigan and revealed the glistening, baby-oiled pecs of pop stardom lurking beneath.

So what if all he’s done is appropriate George Michealtastic riffage to serve his devious pop ends? Bouncing with furious abandon, the pared-down chords are every bit as infectious as in the original, while the chorus is underpinned by smooth bluesy notes which totally amp up his faux-whine voice. And lo! The crowning glory of a true 19 Productions track: the third verse repeat that goes up a key! My god, it’s like late nineties boyband structures all over again. Layer it on, with a speeding sax frenzy and breathless drumming until…. Well, I could just make tasteless puns about climaxing, but I’m a girl of refined linguistic tastes. Obviously.

Download. (And yes, there are 10 secs of silence at the start of the file. Patience!)
Pre-order 'Keep It On' from Amazon UK
Watch the Top Gun homoeroticism befitting an out-and-proud young man.


Videodrome - Natasha Bedingfield / Son of Dork

Natasha Bedingfield – Unwritten

There was a brand meeting, of that I’m sure. Flow charts and powerpoint presentations and laminated handouts with focus group polling. Because of course this piece of corporate motivation nonsense couldn’t have been born from an actual, creative mind. Right?

“So we’re launching her stateside. What image do we want to push for this sweet, middle-class British woman?”
“It’s about keywords. Demographic appeal. Emotive performance values.”
“Yeah, yeah. So, like, she’s fun!”
“Frolicking in corn-field fun.”
“And she’s chaste!”
“Totally Christian – so no hot make-out action.”
“But, like, flirtatious looks to some hot guy. Make her relatable!”
“And diverse! Sure, she’s making lily-white acoustic girl pop, but if we put an urban choir in, it’ll show how inclusive she is.”
“Don’t forget the children and old folks!”

Watch the horror ensue at AOL music
Buy ‘Unwritten’ from CD Wow

Son of Dork – Ticket Out of Loservile

So, like, this is totally a ‘reinvention for the USA market’ week! A song that isn’t so much influenced by Blink 182, as built from their bouncingly nasal skate-rat-pop-punk detritus, plus a good dose of the Busted ‘one-two-three-four!” glee. 'Lil' James has certainly learnt his lesson from the 'Busted Do America' debacle of yesteryear: the suburban, middle America-set video is nought but a homage to Star Trek geekery, jocks, cheerleaders and prom. The pesky kids rock out in their garage! They get beaten up by football players! They wear NFG shirts! They’re from Southend-On-Sea! In, like, Essex. Oh well, dude’s totally rocking the aesthetic.

Watch here.
Visit the Son of Dork homepage and see the vision of world domination in flash graphics.


Broken Social Scene - Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl

“Used to be one of the rotten ones/ And I liked you for that/ Now you’re all gone/ Got your make-up on/ And you’re not coming back.”

Sixteen was hard. Eighteen was better. But seventeen, oh seventeen. The year of finding my utopia and sinking as low as I hope I’ll ever know. Discovering the steel it turns out I’m made of; the everyday failings in everyone else.

Scribbled short stories. Citrus sweets for exam hours. The Northern Lights trilogy in two summer days. That strapless, striped cotton dress. California. Darkrooms and bright sun. Carpeted hallways and layered bodies. My first red lipstick. Skipping economics class to take the train to the city and sit with friends, bagels and Elle magazine aspirations. Crushes on boys that never went anywhere, because they were seventeen too. Abandonment and unimaginable loneliness. A world filled with other people’s words, but no conversation. Mugs of tea in the afternoons. Feeling on the verge of tears, all day, every day. Silence. Sick, hot bouts of weeping. Unexpressed anger at men who will never knew.

Soft and slow, this song says it all. Change, loss and quiet promises; I can feel the naïve energy and simple insistence in every hushed melody.

Bonus: The Big Ticket has a live version of ‘Major Label Debut’ from the new limited edition EP
Buy ‘You Forgot It In People’ from Gallery AC