Here’s a weekly splash of five songs I’ve enjoyed this week, for once necessarily London-related:
His Clancyness – Summer Majestic
There’s a certain joy to be had in screaming along to songs where you’ve no idea whatsoever of the lyrics. That’s not the only pleasure offered by this languorous beast from Ottawa’s His Clancyness, though; - no, you might also rejoice in the rejuvenative pause at the end of the first intense chorus, or exult at the bear-like guitars, chair-throwingly angry and spoiling for a fight, and yet at the same time as idyllic as sunset over a funfair with barbecue smoke in the air.
(more about this video here: http://is.gd/cGk4Y)
Donnis – Yup
This anthem much ticks all the hip-hop boxes. Pulsating chorus? To quote new talent Donnis, yup yup. Quality rapping, fizzing samples? Check, check. Sassy female voice? You betcha. Pointless namechecks, and liberal use of the the N-word? Course, bro. And brilliantly bonkers lyrics? Oh hell yes – none better than: “Even if you Jewish, I aint the one you should Passover.” That’s just genius, pure and oh so simple.
Tennis – South Carolina (demo)
It’s morning. You’re a little wobbly after last night, but you’ve risen early, showered away the worst of it and the day stretches ahead, pregnant with possibility. You shove open the front door, and it’s warm, oh so warm. The sky’s holiday-brochure blue. And onto your iPod comes South Carolina by Tennis: mellow and peacefully lo-fi, and led with a female voice so fresh and sanctifying it could be the Lady Sun herself. Yes, you think giddily, life really is okay right now.
Slow Six – The Night You Left New York
I like listening to jazz now and again, because the lack of vocals allow for a different kind of listening: a less intense experience, letting the waves come to you rather than crashing into them. Slow Six‘s violin-led instrumental number isn’t jazz but the same magic applies: close your eyes, listen to the careering strings, and a million scenarios can come to mind, or none at all, just a serene, empty-Spanish-square-at-midday bliss, a secret treehouse for the ears.
Silver Ripples – Hi It’s Laura
I hate it. I love it. I just don’t know. This edgy slice of minimal drum’n'bass by Brooklyn’s Silver Ripples features a girl called Laura phoning up a guy called Wendell, a high pitched male voice swooning about telephone etiquette and some keyboard loops hard and enigmatic as fork lightning flashes. It’s desperately quiet and desperately unusual, always beguiling, and quite probably wondrous in a certain kind of club at a certain kind of hour on a certain kind of poison.
MP3s via song titles