The Birthday Party

hip young gunslinger, like the Queen and Cheryl Tweedy on Girls Aloud’s 2007 calendar, has two birthdays. The first, September 25, marks the very first time we posted ‘content’ on the blog. It was a lengthy (827 WORDS) rant about something Kasabian had said about Justin Timberlake.

Our second official birthday, December 5, represents the date we started posting stuff to the blog ‘full-time’ (ie every now and again). That particular piece was an in-depth analysis of the new Girls Aloud calendar. hyg: always tackling the big issues.

Today is the second second birthday of our little music blog. It has been a very nice two years. At times we have felt like not bothering and at times we have felt like not being here at all but that was always for different reasons. Overall, it’s been fun.

Here are some people we would like to say thank you/hello to on this momentous occasion. This lot have been brilliant in various help and support-based ways. Apologies to anyone we’ve missed out:

Peter Robinson, Danny McFadden, Holly Coy, Sarah Lord, Ian Jones, all the people who fixed up interviews, gave us stuff or got us into gigs for free, Melissa Rose, Justin Heaton, Damien Johnstone, Gary Ryan, various people at CityLife.co.uk, Rachael Burns, Jon Grant, James Morton, Mat Payne and everyone who has stopped by for a read.

Many happy returns etc

x

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Master Shortie: not very much like Adele

Here is the video for Dead End by Master Shortie. If you haven’t heard of Master Shortie, he is a 19 year old MC/producer ‘type’ from London. His real name is not Master Shortie. It is Theo Kerlin. In many ways, Master Shortie is the new Adele. Let’s have a look at some of those ways:

:: He is from London
:: He went to the Brit School for a bit
:: Um
:: He mixes fluoro indie, grime and pop to make thrustworthy party records
:: Probably not that last one.

So, as we have seen, Master Shortie is nothing like Adele.

Let’s have a look at the video for Dead End, then. The song is an upbeat indiegrime stomp, which is basically about Master Shortie reading far too much into looking at an attractive girl. He sees her in the first verse and spends the rest of the song going on about how he would quite like to have sex with her, but how he can’t have sex with her, because he’s got a girlfriend, for a start, and he lives with his mum and doesn’t like having sex when his mum’s at home.

Bonus feature: samosa-based simile.

Observe:



You might not like it at first but it does get better.

Visit the official Master Shortie blog.

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The Quietus' mime guy: we know him (sort of)

Some of you, particularly those of you that read Popbitch, the Daily Star, the Time Out Chicago blog or the b3ta newsletter, may already have seen this, but the Quietus have got a fun little game at the moment which basically involves looking at a mime and then guessing which classic album covers he is recreating.

You can play it by clicking the picture below.

So, did we mention that we know (sort of) the Quietus mime guy? He is a very nice chap. We stayed at his house once when we went to London, sleeping on a settee outside his bedroom. Apart from that night we got drunk and passed out on his bed and then got kicked out when he came home at 4am. Anyway. Very nice and a fine actor. He was also in this:



Fiery.

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Roisin Murphy live: amazing

We went to watch Roisin Muprhy live last week. It was amazing. Here is a review:

“Next time, more anarchy,” pouts Roisin Murphy from her position atop a heavily oversubscribed crowd barrier. And while her sentiment may be commendable, most of the audience would probably settle for “Next time, less jazz.”

Tonight sees the Irish electro psychopath giving textbook demonstrations of her best and worst sides. For the former, she wheels out seven-minute, kitchen sink versions of her biggest hits accompanied by kaleidoscopic rave visuals that both dazzle and terrify. For the latter, she sits on a stool and croons smoky lounge numbers towards a hat with a face.

While Roisin’s noodlier sojourns take her dangerously close to losing the crowd, the times she slips back into electropop superstar mode have them eating out of her wildly expressive hands.

Disco dancing with a huge reflective disc pulled down across her face, it’s easy to see why many people find Murphy’s visual style as captivating as her line in polished machine pop.

She opens the show with a salvo of Overpowered and You Know Me Better, tonight rendered as epic electro behemoths. Alongside mesmerising visuals, each builds until no one there – least of all Roisin – is quite sure what is going on.

After a regrettable BPM dip and several costume changes, Roisin blasts through some of her more uptempo numbers, including an encore featuring her version of Bryan Ferry’s Slave To Love, supercharged to the point where it sounds even more like the Doctor Who theme after a strong dose of poppers than normal.

She closes the set with a gingham deer strapped to her back, mock-fighting her dancers. If only all of the show could have been so entertaining.

Summary:

:: Ridiculous costume alert: basically two shop dummies strapped to her front and back.
:: Amazing dancing.
:: Disappointing jazz sections.
:: The good thing about Roisin is that, even with all the highly cultural performance aspects of her live show, you always get the sense she is having brilliant fun. Silly dancing, outlandish costumes and stomping around the stage like a little sparrow – you don’t get that at an Oasis gig.
:: This – minus the half hour of noodling balladry – is exactly how popstars should be.
:: Roisin is, let’s be honest here, incredibly fit.
:: Let’s have a video to celebrate:



Very good.

Read more stuff like this at this exciting music blog.