No Pain In Pop

Less oranges, more jam

Drought coming + apocaplyse due = fuck it.

MP3: No Age - It’s Oh So Quiet

Tags: fuck everything - let's skate, jg ballard, no age

2OO8 ≠ 32

Photo: Tom King

It’s hard not to feel berk or beast when attempting to cram 12 months into 700 words, so we won’t even try. This late in the day there’s going to be omission to an extent that outstretches the impatient collateral of memory loss, especially as the mind wanders back to recall a year of live music that’s without peer in my 23 on this earth.

So, there’ll be no divvying up of 2008 between movements and moods here. Just a necessary trawl through the shipwreck, flotsam fished from choppy waters and beacon buoys twinkling in the ocean of our terrible collective memory.

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Tags: 20jazzfunkgreats, abe vigoda, aids wolf, alice coltrane, apple pips, arch m, baby venom, bo diddley, bradford cox, darkstar, flowdan, flying lotus, harmonia, harvey milk, health, holy fuck, mark brown, martyn, my bloody valentine, nite jewel, no age, no shows forever, oneman, panda bear, primavera sound, ramadanman, rustie, sam butler, skull disco, teengirl fantasy, telepathe, terrence dixon, the bug, the dovers, the samps, theo parrish, trg, wild beasts, wiley, zomby

Saturdig

MP3: The Urinals - I’m a Bug

Or how dirt-nailed, vaccuum-pocket crate diggings disaffected to dredging Saturdays for bore cure. So for penury, A/V cider: ‘Teenage Genocide’, Urinals, ‘Silent Night, Deadly Night’, Harmonia, Bradford, Let’s Wrestle, ‘Love Caboose’, Messrs Randall and Spunt.

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Tags: bradford cox, harmonia, no age, saturdig, urinals

Soarers

Director Andy Bruntel asks that these videos be watched in tandem, though the one shot for ‘Keechie’ seems to be a sequel of sorts for the ‘Eraser’ footage. A ploy to hold the attention? No need. No Age…

Tandem dive after the jump.

‘Keechie’ is built from discarded moments, Bruntel bringing together bursting balloons, rescued T-shirts, fishing rods and deck shoes in a way that mirrors, to a great extent I think, what Dean Spunt and Randy Randall do so well with their music. A kind of grunge grown positive after (and perhaps because of) traumatic teenage years, the noise of ‘Keechie’ and ‘Eraser’ still seems to burn with the new bruises of youth, or at least smoulder with a memory of it that’s splintered kaleidoscopic.

It’s physical, this din - it’s an arm reaching out, veiny, a blow to the head of moping London bowl-cuts and bored, boring boar bars, a sucker-punch, a reflex axion, but boson-tied by the alloyed efforts of fresh sweat, talk that flows like a brook new and awkward but with given memories of April showers past and the time for ideas. The three come together momentarily to house a beam Providential, brains elevated loose to a vast landscape gazing back-to-back, sharing Siamese all the busy eye takes in.

Truly psyched, soaring sound… 4eva+eva+eva.

Tags: keechie, no age