Snow Patrol vs Simply Red

I had a bit of an odd conversation this morning, and I thought I'd share it with you, because I'm (a) nice like that, and (b) a little self-important.

Essentially, a friend announced that she'd had the opportunity to go and see Snow Patrol at the O2 Arena (or whatever they're calling the dome nowadays) last night, hadn't been able to, and had thought of me. She knows my views. She was joking. I find it hard to joke about Snow Patrol. I should probably get over myself. But I don't particularly want to quite yet. Moving on...

I suggested gently that there might be more exciting opportunities around than going to a point in London about as far away from where I live as possible to watch one of the worst bands ever - she took this as a challenge, quickly suggesting that to label Snow Patrol as the worst band ever was a touch harsh. She cited M People and Simply Red as evidence.

We quickly dismissed M People as a disease rather than a band (What have YOU done today, Heather? Seriously? Now sod off.), but the Simply Red argument detained us a while longer. Yes, Mick Hucknall is an incorrigible twat (Jerry, I know you told me not to swear, but it's Mick Hucknall) but dammit all, Simply Red are a better band than Snow Patrol. Song for song, album for album, pound for pound, it's a walkover for the ginger Manc and his assorted bored-looking session musicians. Even when Hucknall's dancing.

Which got me thinking - how many other bands that you instinctively think of as utterly dreadful are, in fact, when you actually stop to think about it, better than Snow Patrol? All thoughts welcomed...

Klaxons - Myths of the Near Future

I've always been fascinated by music-writers' fascination with where bands come from. Rarely an in-depth Q Magazine interview goes by without the interviewer drawing a parallel between the personality/style/sexuality of the singer/group in question and the town where they grew up. It all feels a bit like Horoscopes to me - if that's what growing up in Athens, Georgia does to you, why isn't everyone REM? Or, to look at it another way, Klaxons are from the midlands - so are UB40.

Klaxons are part of the NME-embraced (sponsored) Nu-Rave wave, the movement that (as they put it) "started as an in-joke and became a minor youth subculture". Two of them went to school together, and they all grew up in the same place, but I'm listening to Myths Of The Near Future as I write this, and dammit, it's not from anywhere. And if it is, it's certainly not the fucking midlands.

The opening track, Two Receivers, is relentlessly, stubbornly spiralling, embracing and enthralling you before you've even realised what's happening. The whimsical, breathless harmonies put you in mind of a balletic punk - too beautiful to avoid, but too fucking stubborn to do it properly.

And once you're in, you're in - the remainder of the album doesn't let you go, from the angry vibrancy of Golden Skans to the anthemic crowd-pleaser that is "It's not ever yet", which brings to mind the Dandy Warhols kickin' it for Vodafone. This is an album of contentedly angsty pop songs - three minute encapsulations of aching 'what the fuck?'

It's too joyous to be angsty, and too panic-ridden to be happy - it's like they're as caught up in it all as much as you are, and just can't stop what they're doing. This is pop music on the edge, with the electro-wall constantly threatening to overwhelm the often tremulous vocals, before suddenly the roles are reversed - gaily furious pop songs of attrition.

And no, it's not perfect. It sometimes feels too studied, a little like Bill and Andie's fifteenth first date in Groundhog Day, but it feels somewhat churlish to criticise for that. So what if Klaxons have called all my mates to find out exactly what I like? (And who the fuck told them about The Bangles, by the way?) If only all bands cared that much. This album feels like it was recorded by a school rugby team that decided to beating the shit out of the choirboys, and record some tracks with them instead - it's the glorious battle of extremities that lifts the best songs towards somewhere remarkable.

And I'm seeing them live in just over a fortnight - if they're as liberated and explosive on stage as I'm led to believe, and they can unleash all the energy this album threatens, it's going to be quite an experience. I can't fucking wait. I may even forgive them for using the phrase 'minor youth subculture'.

Anyway - what do you think?

What Dan Did Next

Ok, just a quick one - I have a plan.

In the run up to T, I'm going to do a series of album reviews of some of the bands I'm going to be seeing at Balado. That's the tenuous theme of the next few posts. I hope you're as excited as I am.

T In The Park

This weekend has been astonishingly exciting. And it started with one of those 'Royal Mail attempted to deliver...' cards. I fucking hate them. But that's not important right now.

What is important is that I received one on Thursday. In fact, I'll be honest, that's not even that important. What IS important is what arrived once I'd rearranged delivery; two camping tickets for T In The Park - two tickets that I'd ordered nearly a year ago, and completely forgotten about.

I love surprising myself.

And so I'm going to T In The Park, which is, as everyone knows, AMAZING - the best of the festivals, and one of the few that manages to remain joyfully grubby. It's in such a beautiful place, nobody loves drinking and music quite like the Scots, and the line-up is just awe-inspiring. Arcade Fire, Camera Obscura, Brian Wilson, Mr Hudson & The Library, Rufus, The Klaxons, CSS, The Kings of Leon, Scissor Sisters, Gogol Bordello... Fuck me, it's just silly.

The only downer is the final act on the main stage on Sunday night - yes, as if to spite me, those winsome Scottish troubadours Fucking Snow Patrol will be closing the festival. But the joy of T is that there will be someone INCREDIBLE playing somewhere else, and I'll be too drunk to care anyway. Bring it. The only thing to be aware of is that the last time I went to T I got over-excited and booked tickets to see Elton John in Las Vegas; I then woke up the next morning and realised that I was going to have to go to Las Vegas. But that's probably a story for another post...

So there we are. I've got tickets and a tent - now I just need time off work, transport to Balado... oh, and someone to go with. Easy.

I don't post enough

And I apologise for that. It's rubbish of me.

I've been listening to Gogol Bordello. They're awesome.

I'm going to write more soon - I promise.

Most exciting news is that a friend of mine is at the Isle of Wight Festival this weekend, and has promised to kill Snow Patrol. Well, she didn't exactly promise. In fact, she said she wouldn't. I'm texting her constantly though - I live in hope.

I'll keep you posted.