Today I just ended up walking through that cold November rain – singing/humming these songs:
Long Walks On The Beach – metaPhysical (mp3)
A song as instantly warm and familiar as a woolknit jumper or new book by a favourite author. This is jangly rock with a faintly regal air; a three-minute breeze with fuzzy, autumnal verses prior to a blow-out chorus.
Four Tet – Circling (mp3)
Wandering round the Natural History Museum yesterday, I found I was happiest listening to music: drowning out the noisy kids, and soundtracking my structured learning. This Four Tet tune would have been perfect: it’s dreaminess perfect for my recurrent awe, and it’s simplicity enough not to distract me too much. It’s also, like the museum, unexpectedly touching in places.
The Suzan – Paranoid (mp3)
A slowed-up Strokes cover with a hint of Aled Jones and all sorts of sass.
Candy Claws – Sunbeam Show (mp3)
Marvellously unclassifiable, this is a mesmerising storm of throbbing, thrashing, sampling, whispering, floating and showboating, all sounding faintly mischievous. I like to think of it as the song a record player puts on once everyone’s gone to bed.
The Levellers – Leave This Town
Right now I’m very tempted to quite my job, my flat, my life, and lines from this old firecracker of a song - utterly beloved in my childhood - seem to ring truer every day. It’s time to leave this town; the world keeps turning round. No matter just what window you look out of; the view just never ever seems to change. These feel like my sentiments lately – but perhaps it’s just another lonely winters’ day.
Monday Music’s a weekly post where I abandon my London focus for five songs from artists anywhere that I’ve enjoyed in the past week
You seem to really know your stuff!