Why musicians are twats

I really like music, but I don't like musicians. I idolise them, but I don't like them - I don't want to be friends with them, particularly the ones I actually do like a little bit. Sometimes I have been a musician, and I've probably been totally dislikable too. What does this mean? Well, when you make music, you're doing something that lots of other people are doing too. What makes you different? You might be quite good, or even really good. You probably look quite cool, or at least you think you do, and you definitely act like you do. Maybe you know someone who's going to get you that big gig. I know what you definitely do, though - you talk about all of this, all of the time. It's totally self indulgent, and because people constantly ask you about it, sometimes with some reverence, you begin to think that it actually means something. This isn't an original though, but you shouldn't meet your heroes - they will probably let you down. Honestly, I don't think I'd want to - maybe it's a weird, but I don't want to transgress the fan-idol relationship, I don't want to reach onto the stage and touch.

Where's all this going? James Murphy is the heart and soul of New York band LCD Soundsystem, and Mr Murphy has been all over the press recently - the band are currently touring, and releasing their third album shortly. I can't help but like James Murphy, because a lot of the things he says are true. He is obsessed with the idea of being cool, which I like because if they're honest, most people start bands because they think it's a cool thing to do. At the same time, Murphy speaks with the authority of someone who knows that other people are listening. Not just listening - hanging on his every word; LCD are probably the coolest band in the world at the moment. See, there it is, I'm conflicted. The stroke of luck in this situation is that LCD Soundsystem are brilliant. An interview in the Guardian at the weekend quoted Murphy saying that "I see this band as pure evidence that having a decent idea is more important than being talented." Why are musicians so disingenuous? When they're not telling you how good they are, they're telling you how bad they are. Because, of course, it's not true - LCD Soundsystem are fantastic. So far I've been writing about music which comes out of speakers in my room, but last Friday I had the pleasure of seeing Murphy and co. live, in the flesh, at Brixton Academy with my pals Harry (who keeps a regularly updated blog at http://forgedinsheffield.blogspot.com/) and Terry (off the telly). Arriving on stage just about on time, the band launched into US V Them, from second album Sound of Silver. Murphy walked on swigging a bottle of champagne, at which point the band were well into their stride. Unfortunately, the keyboard wasn't working, which was announced to the audience at the end of the song. What to do? Play it again! See, what did I say about musicians? I can forgive this indulgence when it's this good though. With the introduction of the thundering bass, spotlights focused on the glitter ball hanging half over the stage and half over the audience - bang! The room was spinning, and we were away. A personal highlight (probably so for much of the crowd) was hearing All My Friends, an epic narration or wanting and losing, also from Sound of Silver. I have loved it long time, and to hear it coming organically from the musicians on stage was a huge thrill.

Enough.

Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti

For once that's not some stupid title I've dreamt up, it's the name of the artist I'm writing about.




There isn't much information floating around about Ariel Pink, but I gather that he's been releasing very low-fi music on cassette tapes for over ten years, mostly made on a four-track recorder. The project is articulated around Ariel Pink himself (real name... jokes.) with the Haunted Graffiti providing a band element. The above single Round and Round will be appearing on an 'official' debut album, Before Today, sometime later this year on 4AD. In contrast to the previous releases, the production is very smooth, and there's a real 80s American FM-friendly sheen to it.


"Na na na naaaaaaaaaa...."


The chanted refrain and reverby guitar sounds very California - think the Mamas and the Papas - and ringing telephone in the middle is pretty psychedelic. Basically it all sounds BIG.


I bought one-time-massive-indie-crush Laura Marling's second album on Monday which I will probably write about in a week or two when I've read enough reviews to copy someone else's opinion.