Records - Singles & Downloads
- Kirstin Innes
- 5 June 2007
Singles & Downloads
The first singles roundup of the summer is usually brought to you by the words ‘shimmery’, ‘jangly’ and ‘harmony’, and although it’s essentially a vitriolic, bitchy Dear John, Glaswegian quartet Le Reno Amps’ ‘Poison Letter’ (Pet Piranha, 4 Stars) ticks all three boxes. There’s a whole lot of underage action this fortnight, too: brilliant crazy punk kids Damn Shames have an articulate adolescent strop all over ‘Dancing in the Aisles’ (Golden Eagle, ●●●), while unsigned Gorebridgians Capstin Pole have bottled the sound of a teenager going clubbing for the very first time on their wide-eyed disco choon ‘In the Way You Move’ (●●●).
Let’s just skip past Editors’ dolorous ‘Smokers Outside Hospital Doors’ (Kitchenware, ●●), shall we? Quickly! I don’t think they saw us. Far more summery is ‘Generator’ by The Holloways (TVT, 3 Stars), a rollicking indie-ska barbeque of a tune tailor-made for festival sing-a-longs. Posh Aussie bohos Angus and Julia Stone have produced a quiet, sardonic charmer with the Nouvelle Vague-y ‘Private Lawns’ (Independiente, ●●●). Sweet relief to my ears after enduring Enter Shikari’s ‘Jonny Sniper’ (Ambush Reality, ●), a self-congratulatory, utterly pointless hotchpotch of screamcore, emo and mockney rave.
Oof, I feel better for that. The latest De-Fence EP, 10x10:04 (●●●●) pairs up Welsh weirdo Weasel Squeezer with Edinburgh’s own Found, who can currently do very little wrong as far as this magazine is concerned. Their bit’s lovely: all daffy bleeps and hazily murmured exhortations that ‘it’s time to make some music’, but the Weasel fella makes heavy work of some dated samples. Honourable mention to Blood Red Shoes: the girly, punky yowl of ‘It’s Getting Boring by the Sea’ (V2, ●●●●●) has an excellent call-response chorus, replete with shimmery (ding!), jangly (ding!) harmonies (ding!).
Then there’s Jape. ‘Floating’ (V2, ●●●●●) is a blissed-out, drugged-up, 5am love song about dancing all night and holding hands as you watch the sun come up. It’s cut through with Gregorian chants and a slowed-down raag that hypnotises you into believing it’s the best thing ever. As he got to me in a romantic, vulnerable moment, Jape nails it: Single of a Fortnight by a dreamy wee whisper.