well, I suppose there's no way around it.



even if you've probably already seen it--hey. It's one of those things you can't leave alone.

one of those things--explosions of exclamation marks and instrumental joyous furies and lyrics name dropping Amelia Fletcher and Calvin Johnson. Sure, Los Campesinos! may claim to have never cared about Sarah records, but with a song that proclaims the joys of the international tweexcore underground (and oh oh oh how you'd love to be a part of that underground of kids who look just a little too indiepop to be cool but who rock out on keyboards and guitars and violin! with individual exclamation marks bouncing above their heads) they sure are the start of something. Something wonderful, something worth dancing and shouting and smiling endlessly about.

!
!
!

Labels: dancing, internationaltweexcoreunderground, POP

It's not just procrastination. Or the lack of anything to say (or ways of saying it). Although, yes, those come into play, somewhat, always.

It might simply be fear.

Because when you settle down, reach a decision, finally make a post that details your mission in a blog--not to listen to every promo song ever and hand pick the ones that are mediocre to relatively good, to only share those songs that are worth something, something personal, it's a decision to reveal a lot more of myself.

Revealing myself has been a constant in my life lately--but only to a diary no one will read, to a mind no one can see through, to people I'll never truly meet.

Songs have become something more, again. Every line resonates within something personal, something I'm afraid to explore.

So. Stop speaking in abstracts. Stop thinking in vague terms.

Here's a song, a delightful song, a catchy song, a stuck in your mind, chorus repeating, singalong, upbeat, Swedish indie pop song. A song that seems to represent so much of my life, at least some aspects of it. At least enough to become more than just a catchy pop song.

Maia Hirasawa-And I Found This Boy

It sums it up, all too well. Those cheery trumpets, that snapping melody, the fickle piano, Maia's voice, self assured, sass tinted...except for those few lines, of course. Those few lines of honesty, of revealing vulnerability, truth underneath this outward whatever. The exclamation marks of stopping points, climatic moments in a conversation. Don't say I'm desperate, I'm not! But she is. And no matter how hard the righteous chorus, the girlfriend at home, the pleas from the boy, the drinking all night long...it's all too simple, it's all too apparent. I wish I had not been here before.

Labels: fears, POP, pretend, regret, swee

WinterKids-Tape It

What is this. What is this!

It sounds like gee-tars, the sort of pop-emo riffs and mini solos fitting for a My Chemical Romance song (but don't fear...it's indie). It sounds like vocals, like the Shout Out Louds, that sort of British nasally cutesy white rawker voice. It sounds like repeating verses and choruses and lyrics that include "she said we're just friends". It sounds like a bridge! A clapclap, snapsnap, poppop bridge. It sounds like a chorus that leaps into unsuspecting ears and minds, and stay there, hooked and raging for some recognition and some SINGING, damn it. It sounds like keyboards! A toy piano! It sounds absolutely irresistible. It sounds...like your new favorite brit pop band (and maybe all your old ones, too).

Labels: POP, rawk, sing

Patrick Wolf-The Magic Position

I can't help it. This song is infectious, in every sense of the word. This prancing, stomping, clapping, dancing, song. This explosion! of happiness! of hope! of new! beginnings! This glammed out, rocked out, orchestrated, exaggerated, theatrical, powerful anthem to strut on the street with a grin and a wink. Spinning red and white melodies, and a chorus, oh, what a chorus, what a driven, listener singalong/clapalong/dancealong required, punches of melody stuck if your head, chorus! Because yes, finally, there is light, and dazzling explosions of brightness for the future...he's singing in the major key.

Labels: anthem, glam, indierawk, POP, sing