© Alexander Middleton

© Alexander Middleton

© Alexander Middleton

© Alexander Middleton

The future of upstart painters can simultaneously be interpreted as both bleak, in the current economic climate, but limitless, in terms of creative possibilities. Ascertaining the middle ground between producing commercially viable, yet artistically irrelevant paintings on a windy English beach town, and aiming to become an internationally acclaimed artist is no easy feat. To create something for yourself, with creative vitality and individuality, while gaining public interest (a public who on the whole are reluctant to part with more than a fiver for any tangible image other than a Bob Marley poster), requires a stimulating composition.

Kollektivyne’s desire to find compelling images has often led an examination of undergraduate works, and has uncovered artists such as Rob Morris from Manchester, who Alec Dudson stumbled across last year. Considering this, I set about the University of Brighton’s Arts and design campus with a camera and an open mind. After assessing the broad wealth of paintings on offer, which presented various depths of both intellectual and aesthetic engagement, and complied with many different artistic movements, one painter’s corner of the studio repetitively requested my attention. I sat down next to Alexander Middleton, the 21 year old, grubby-faced painter hunched over one of his many vibrant, messy, and captivating paintings, to find out what he was up to and what his work was about.

Kollektivnye: What inspired you to start painting, and what inspires you now?

Alex Middleton: Everyone paints when they are a kid, but most people are educated out of it. There wasn’t any particular inspiration I just realised at some point during school that there’s nothing else I want to spend my days doing. And currently I’m always open to inspiration. Be it other art, direct visual stimulus, reading art theory, having new materials to use or new ideas and themes. When I’m working I get lost in the process but being surrounded by, and constantly looking for things which stimulate me artistically, means that there is a constant stream of inspiration which can filter through subconsciously and which I can look to consciously.

K: How would you classify your painting style?

A: One way of classifying myself is that my practice revolves around my studio. My work isn’t premeditated; it comes through the playful manipulation of materials. I love surprising myself and this is often how I know a particular piece is finished, when I see something in it that I wasn’t expecting. This means that my ‘style’ is always changing, I’m way to early in my journey as an artist to pin myself down and so long as I keep moving forward and surprising myself I will be happy.

K: What do you look for in a painting – either that you are creating, or that you are viewing?

A: I’m a sucker for colour and form, the pure materiality of an object – this is often what draws me in. Sometimes this is enough, but what really interests me is something which links to the experience of reality, of being human and existing within the world. For me good art doesn’t try and tell you too much, it should ask questions not try and give answers.

K: What recent exhibitions have you been involved in?

A: I’ve been involved in various group shows in Brighton and last summer I had a two-man show in Cawdor Castle, Scotland, as a result of a residency. Nothing over the past 6 months though as I’ve been working towards my degree show.

K: What happens after you graduate?

A: Well after this I’ve got a couple of things in the pipeline, so you will have to keep your ears peeled, but I’ll have to settle down in the real world first.

K: Who do you consider to be your current contemporaries?

A: Tal R, Mike Swaney, Kate Lydonn… those are some artists working now who I admire and could been seen as similar to my own. Browsing online I stumble across countless artists whose method or work is similar to my own… there is a lot of art available at the click of a button these days. I think its important to keep your head down and get on with it, be aware of what’s happening, but not worry about where you slot in with it all. In terms of my peers, Sam Meredith, Will Colley, Tom Beale and Clem Moyes are all amazing at what they do.

K:  What are your plans for your future art career?

A: As I’m about to leave the haven of university I’ll lose my free studio, so my aim is to just keep painting, and do as much as I can to promote my work to a wider audience. The plan is to one day be able to make enough money making art that I don’t have to do anything else.

Alexander Middleton’s graduate show:
1st – 12th of June
10am – 6pm weekdays
12am – 5pm weekends

University of Brighton,
School of Art and Design,
58-67 Grand Parade
BN2 0JY

Contact Alex and see more of his work here: alexandermiddleton.tumblr.com/

There are many young bands, born of the irresistible confidence of youth, who lose this upon their first encountering of the realisation of what it is to be a professional.

Thankfully, Coasts are no such band.

Comfortable in their populist leaning sounds, Coasts are a group whose emotional maturity belie their youth. The video to their debut single ‘Oceans’ is but proof of this.

Simultaneously a showcase of great shirts and songwriting prowess, Oceans follows the 5 piece on a journey through a windswept West Country, culminating in a flare fuelled frenzy on a secluded beach.

In short, watch out for these guys in 2013.

Eels | Wonderful, Glorious | Vagrant Records

Bluesy and languid, the latest offering from Eels transports its listeners to the setting of the rawest of jam sessions, with buzzing guitar riffs and Mark Oliver Everett’s growl always tempered by the laid-back flow of one song to the next. In fact, this is exactly how Wonderful, Glorious came into being: jamming with no overarching concepts, lyrics taken haphazardly from Everett’s old notebooks. After Eels’ last epic trilogy of albums, this casual, “let’s-see-what-happens” approach must have been a relief to the songwriter, and perhaps it is this relief which has led to the optimism and playfulness that permeates Wonderful, Glorious.

The meandering playfulness is immediately apparent on “Peach Blossom”, the first single to be released from the album. As in many of the other songs, the pared-down instrumentation here allows the silences in-between drumbeats to complement the guitar hooks and create a more tribal sound than what you’ll find on most indie-rock albums – perhaps these catchy, rhythmic moments are the album’s real success. Nonetheless, despite its edginess the sound never becomes aggressive at any point, partially because of the carefully manufactured yet oh-so-chilled-sounding song structures, but also because of the abundance of slower tunes (like the introverted lounge music of “Accident Prone” or the superior folk-tinged “On the Ropes”), not to mention the casually upbeat lyrics.

It’s these last two factors that stop the album from achieving greatness. Right when the party seems on the verge of kicking off in joyous, thumping tracks like “Kinda Fuzzy” or “Stick Together”, the following song plunges us back into percussion-less, spacey tranquility. There can be no doubt that the originality on this album is to be found in the interesting beats and groove-inspired moments; the slower songs sadly hold the whole thing back. As for the lyrics: “Man it was brutal, with plenty of tissues / I guess you could say that I had issues” basically sums up the extent of the depth of feeling whilst providing an example of the offending rhymes themselves.

Despite these flaws, Wonderful, Glorious is an impressive (if not wonderful or glorious) work which deserves to be played extensively as background music at house parties, where it’s bound to have heads nodding appreciatively thanks to its innovative blues-rock. As long as you don’t listen too closely to the words, this is cool, colourful music to click your fingers to.

Yo La Tengo | Fade | Matador

It’s not that the past few Yo La Tengo  records have been bad per se, they just haven’t been great records. I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass was a disappointing schizophrenic slog which, for all its bright sparks and clever ideas contained twice as much that was instantly forgettable. Popular Songs struggled with similar difficulties and, if you were going to criticise the band for anything over the years it would be a lack of editing rather than any serious problems with songwriting or musicianship.

As is perhaps suggested by its stripped down title Fade clocks in twenty minutes shorter than their previous album and twenty-five shorter than I Am Not Afraid Of You… making it a much leaner and cohesive listen. Fade feels like an album that has been meticulously planned. There might barely be a song under four minutes long but each one appears considered and never outstays its welcome before melting into the next. There is still, of course, a wide range of styles between each of the songs but Fade is propelled by an overarching mood rather than a signature sound and it’s the mark of a mature band working at a creative peak.

The entire album is backlit by a low frequency streetlight throb which echoes the atmosphere which pervades their magnum opus I Can Hear the Heart Beating As One and that subtle drone really is the heartbeat of this album. The band never stray too far from previously travelled terrain with songs alternating between lilting downbeat acoustic numbers to the relative extreme of pulsating krautrock, John Peel’s famous description of the Fall comes to mind: “always different, always the same.” The use of brass and strings on a few of the songs are a welcome addition to the traditional Yo La Tengo set up of guitar/synth, bass and drums, transforming ‘Is That Enough?’ into an early contender for catchiest song of 2013, and augmenting the final track ‘Before We Run’ into a fitting crescendo.

All in all this is probably Yo La Tengo’s best album in fifteen years and could go on to be one that is truly loved, the ghosts of previous songs and even whole albums are evoked through a bar of slide guitar or a distant synth echo, reminding the listener just what a versatile and valuable band Yo La Tengo have been over the course of their long career. This album is as close to classic Yo La Tengo as it’s possible to get, showcasing their talents in a brilliantly compact and low key way, it gets better with every listen.

Salif Keita | Royal Festival Hall | 5 March 2013.

Salif Keita wasted no time in bringing out his exhibitionist side – dropping to his knees within the first minute on stage, exalting in the moment. With an exuberant persona, perhaps only matched by his raspy, formidable voice, Keita came clothed completely in white, save for the tip of a black headdress. He is a notable man of the moment. Little surprise then, when he had a slightly-confused, yet excitable audience singing happy birthday to him, when it clearly wasn’t.

Keita’s only concert in England this year took place in the spacious, architectural wonder that is the Royal Festival Hall, which provided a surprisingly cohesive venue for Keita, and the group of musicians in support. His new album, Talé, has had a mixed reception, though the album itself probably fares better in live performance. The Afro-funk sat well with a strangely festival-like vibe of the evening. Or perhaps the dodgy bass sound belied that feeling, with synthesisers preferred to a real bassist.

It was in the 1960s that Salif Keita first emerged, with the Rail Band of Bamako, so perhaps it is a little less surprising when Keita opted for prolonged periods of upbeat fusion. Nonetheless, the well-packed, but not-quite full venue responded on the whole with larges swathes of them taking to their feet and dancing. Truth be told, Salif Keita drove through his performance with a pacey intensity. Yet some awkwardness did remain, from a notably bespectacled, white and middle-class audience. The demographic for “World Music” perhaps does not stretch much further than Europe as we may think.

Like his new album, the performance was slightly over-produced, though it was certainly still entertaining. This was no night for the puritans. However, Keita’s pastiche of rock, funk, jazz, with a sprinkling of griot-tradition may be more authentic than they claim. Grouped chants, and purposeful enunciation folded into 80s jives and free-flowing scat. The influence of Philippe Cohen Solal, of Gotan Project was unmistakable, but effective.

Harking voices, and unified harmonies were backlit by powerful spotlights that aimed to dazzle. Though there was able support from the backing band. Ngoni player Harouna Samake, Prince on calabash and Africa Express member Morike Keita, controlled the synths, where there was a surprisingly tigerish performance from backing vocalist, Gladys Gambie. Unfortunately, their exploits were kept on a leash. Samake’s compelling, metallic solo was limited to the beginning of “Yala” from Keita’s classic 2005 album M’Bemba, while Gambie was at her best, invoking the refrain of “C’est Bon, C’est Bon” from the latest album.

By the end of the performance, order dispersed. Eccentric dancers and enthusiasts were dragged up on stage and the songs blurred. Smiles and laughs were abundant, none more so than the man of the evening. As in the whole of his career, Salif Keita does what Salif Keita wants.

dir. Terry Gilliam (1984), UK

Since the publication of George Orwell’s 1984, the year itself has become synonymous with negative utopias. The novel was written in 1948, at the start of the Cold War, and is widely regarded as an important literary critique of totalitarian political systems. Although Orwell’s chilling vision of total state surveillance and control had not actually materialised by the time the eighties began, his scenario was nonetheless the focus of intense interest at the time.

Released, significantly, in 1984, Terry Gilliam’s Brazil is an intelligent and idiosyncratic variation on Orwellian themes. Set “somewhere in the 20^th century”, in an imaginary but credible oppressive state that combines the worst features of 1940s British bureaucracy, McCarthy era paranoia, Stalinist totalitarianism, and the ills of the 1980s (such as an obsession with plastic surgery), the worst aspect of Gilliam’s ostensible Orwellian dystopia is that it doesn’t even really work. The plot is kick-started when a swatted beetle in a typewriter farcically leads to the murder of a decent, law-abiding and completely innocent citizen named Harry Buttle – instead of Harry Tuttle (Robert DeNiro) a subversive heating engineer wanted by the law for carrying out illegal instillation work. On Christmas Eve, Buttle is snatched from the bosom of his family and tortured to death deep in the bowels of the all-powerful Ministry of Information.

Like 1984’s Winston Smith, Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce) is a humble mid-level functionary of the state. When we first meet him, he seems resigned to the grotesque and merciless world he inhabits. It’s all he can do to hold out against his interfering mother Ida (Katherine Helmond), determined as she is to further his career and marry him off to a friend’s neurotic daughter. Reality is so bleak that Sam spends much of his time escaping into daydreams, in which he figures as a radiant, angelic hero, fighting off monsters to win the heart of his ethereal ladylove. He doesn’t realise, however, that his dreams are just about to come true. For when he’s asked to close the file on Buttle, whom should he encounter living above the widow but the same woman who’s been systematically haunting his dreams. Jill Layton (Kim Greist) is a witness to the brutal arrest of Harry Buttle, and is now trying to find out exactly what’s become of her unfortunate neighbour. Sam knows just how risky this plan is, and having just met the woman of his dreams, he has no intention of losing her.

With its countless optical illusions and labyrinthine plot, Brazil is first and foremost a reflection on the nature of perception and deception, on the place where dreams and reality meet – albeit with some distinctly Pythonesque black comedy thrown in. At the same time, Brazil is also a political film, a claustrophobic vision of the future and a parable about human stupidity. Because we never catch a glimpse of those who truly wield the power in this hellish regime, Brazil’s bureaucracy is particularly menacing.  We encounter mild-mannered torturers like Sam’s friend Jack Lint (Michael Palin), who play with their children while still wearing their blood-spattered butchers’ apron, and jovial old gents like Mr Helpmann (Peter Vaughn), so secure in their unassailable power that they can afford to indulge in the pantomime of human kindness. These are the representatives of a State power that hides behind a lacklustre army of flunkies and civil servants.

Visually, Brazil is an orotund, baroque feast. It was shot, for the most part, with extreme wide-angled lenses, which lend the paranoia-riddled story a real sense of speed and urgency. The wide-angle style also captures every detail, emphasising how much each frame is filled to the brim with information. This is all tucked away within an overarching production design that mixes 1940 noir themes with kitschy gadgetry of the atomic age and futuristic elements – the whole mix could be categorised as ‘retro-futurism’.

The reception of Brazil was ultimately polarised, with critical opinion varying as widely as the film’s audience figures. Too big for the arthouse, yet too sophisticated for the multiplex, the VHS became a treasured object, and much of Brazil’s cult following originated in student rooms where the tape would become the subject of intense political debate. Inspired by a wide range of genres and formats, particularly David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, Brazil functions as a sort of bottleneck for science fiction: channelling all of sci-fi’s history and redistributing it through the numerous styles (such as steampunk) and films it has influenced.

It was on a train journey back from Edinburgh that I read about an artist whose music was described as a “hypnotic fusion of bass music, intricate beats, ethereal vocals and shoegaze guitar”. I felt like they’d nicked my favourite adjectives. Stumbleine was the subject. One third of Bristolian post-dupstep trio Swarms, Stumbleine calls his work “glo-fi”, which is a fitting description with its connotations of dreamy ambience and warmth; characteristics which Spiderwebbed, his sophomore record, has in abundance.

Cherry Blossom kicks off the LP, available on Monotreme, using vocal samples and playing with rhythm in its own way; Stumbleine has a stamp. We should champion this type of new, boundary-pushing sound as a general maxim in order to provide the encouraging foundations we ought to already have in place to support those who need it. The callous remark of “it’s just another Burial tribute act” is an outdated phrase for those that have nothing original to say who are only hampering the boom of new blood we have seen in the realms of electronica and beyond over the last few years.

Like many, Stumbleine gained experience beforehand before putting his own solo moniker onto his work and it is clear how these influences are shown here. Previous self-released EPs were full of vitality and vibrancy while exhibiting experimentation in pitch, time-warped voice, irregular beats and suffusions of synth-noise, all of which feature in Spiderwebbed. What is perhaps most exciting however, is the use of guitar that comes in and out of focus, alternating between background substance and bridges that allow the songs to really flow. Consequently, Stumbleine is the kind of artist you file next to the likes of Balam Acab or Slowdive. The indie-rock roots are essential to what makes Stumbleine Stumbleine, spelled out by the calling of himself by the name of a Smashing Pumpkins’ B Side.

And yet, this is not a one-man solo mission. Collaborations are featured on Spiderwebbed with CoMa, Steffaloo and Birds of Passage, while another regular “featuring” is Asa, who has worked on a number of singles with Stumbleine which can all be sampled over at his Bandcamp. A further element to this almost-anonymous musical voice is the visual aspect he hopes to incorporate into his future live shows. In an interview with Scotland’s The Skinny, Stumbleine outlines this philosophy: “It goes hand in hand with the sound,” he explains. But that day is still a way off: “I’ve got no plans to gig at the moment, I produce for headphones mainly.” On headphones, his tracks evoke a particular feeling: “They’re all based on the idea of fading memories and nostalgia,” he says. This love for nostalgic images and childhood perspectives is echoed in the artwork for his releases, with “layers of images trying to tell a story,” he explains. “It seems to match the lo-fi dreamy sound.”

To read more from this interview, head on over to TheSkinny.co.uk or to listen for yourself below…

Off Festival | 3-5.08.2012 | Katowice, Poland

OFF Festival, Poland’s answer to large-scale independent music events such as Barcelona’s Primavera, is held annually in Katowice’s Three Ponds Valley, a welcome juxtaposition to the region’s dominantly industrial landscape. Combining a truly incredible line-up with an intimate atmosphere, OFF is aimed at attentive listeners rather than groups of drunken teenagers, a festival designed first and foremost for the experience of music. Still, one of the event’s primary strengths is its ability to appeal to a varied audience, mixing local residents and their children with connoisseurs, year after year.

It is perhaps the only event where sporadic spells of rain do not act as an obstacle – quite the contrary. They offer an invitation to hide beneath one of the two tents hosting the Experimental and Polish Radio Three stages, which, due to their relatively small sizes, bring participants and performers together, almost suspending the usual festival experience. This condition was fully exploited by Colin Stetson, a touring member of Arcade Fire and Bon Iver yet relatively unknown as a solo musician, one of the first artists to appear at OFF this year. Equipped only with his computer and bass saxophone (the effort required to play it was clearly visible on Stetson’s face, even from the other side of the tent), he was able to create a hypnotising experience. The minimalist, repetitive sounds seemed as much artificial as completely natural, both complex and oddly simple, and combined with a heart-breaking story about the loneliest whale in the world (which I suggest you look up) proved incredibly moving. Another notable solo performance in the Experimental Tent was Pennsylvania’s Daughn Gibson whose stage persona complements the catchy albeit dark combination of recycled country music and electronic beats.

Outdoors, The Forest Stage, which presented a spectacular variety of musicians, from Polish up-and-coming acts such as Enchanted Hunters, through the hip hop artist DOOM, to established groups including Mazzy Star and The Wedding Present, provided a refreshing setting. Appropriately dark and surrounded by trees, it acted as ideal scenery for all sorts of audience reactions, from energetic dancing to sitting down in silence. Paradoxically, the Main Stage proved to be the least interesting of all locations – legendary artists such as Iggy and The Stooges or Swans certainly lived up to (high) expectations yet the line-up itself left little space for a sense of surprise which seems to me the most crucial aspect of OFF Festival. With fantastic acts such as Kurt Vile and the Violators performing in broad daylight due to their comparatively low status, a slight impression of unfulfilled expectations prevailed.

Nevertheless, along with Kraków’s Unsound, OFF Festival certainly makes Poland the top European destination for music lovers around the world. My fourth year at the event did not disappoint; given the fact that three-day passes cost only around £45, there really is no excuse to miss OFF in 2013.

Peace | The Lexington | 30th October 2012

Adorning the front cover of a recent NME issue was a retrospective gaze at the decade that has passed since The Libertines’ ‘Up The Bracket’ was released. It was supplemented with an album of cover tracks; the first of which was provided by Peace and their fuzzy, wah-wah take on the classic ‘Vertigo’. Yet, while many comparisons to the likes of Foals have been over-cited, what struck me more was their sort of postmodern charm delivered with a cheeky grin, last offered by The Libertines themselves. For their music video of Bloodshake, they wanted to create a religion deifying John Cusack, and it was at the point of seeing a group of their friends passed out on the floor, and frontman, Harrison Koisser, playing a Spice Girls song, that their A&R scout decided to take them on.

That being said, my more relevant concerns lay with their sound. High production was found en masse on their debut release with Columbia, EP Delicious, however, focus was too wide for a real coherence and fluency. Perhaps, this is symptomatic of a shorter release, and their full-length album produced by Arctic Monkeys’ Mercury-winning producer Jim Abbiss will alleviate these issues. Nonetheless, their performance at the Lexington served to further my impression of a band who still finding their voice, whilst being propelled by industry support.

The re-appropriation of cultural signs and styles that is clear with this group who at times evoke The Horrors, WU LYF and Nirvana (‘Follow Baby’), Klaxons and The Killers (‘Bloodshake’), and even a pastiche of Britpop and gentle Zeppelin (‘California Daze’). Nothing appears safe from consumption, not even their apparently symbolic name goes to suggest more than a naive and slightly insincere philosophy. In their words, it is ‘music to fuck you in the heart’. Peace resemble a mongrel with various technicolour layers and appendages of zeitgeist influences, but at the heart of it all, there is a lack.

From their sludgy and studied eighties prelude, proletariat choruses, leather jackets and skinny jeans, to their handpicked cover over Binary Finary’s trance track ‘1998’, it seems as though they benefit from an informed whisper in the ear. They describe themselves as dark, melodic, indie techno with more than one eye on their future. However, this youthful cunning is certainly laudable, and positivity should surely be gleaned from this emerging Birmingham scene, alongside both Swim Deep and Troumaca.

During their performance, Peace were generally engaging and intermittently compelling, especially with their chunky distorted chimes and voguish Afro-pop beats. Besides the reputed fireworks and giant painted peace signs of previous performances, we were even treated with a shower of paper-heart confetti. But ultimately, the performance felt somewhat anti-climatic. It is the personality that they evidently have that – on this occasion – failed to translate to their music.

One of the stand out albums of last year was Days by Real Estate, which made it to a lot of 2011′s ‘Best Of’ lists. In the same year The Drums released Portamento, a sophomore record that successfully served its purpose, with praise heaped on the band from blogs and magazines all over the world. While there have been bands who have regularly contributed to the world of guitar music with excellent releases in the last few years (I’m thinking Arctic Monkeys, Foals, The Black Keys, Bombay Bicycle Club and The Maccabees), we are starting to see a new take on the 6 string sound: an indie rock heavily influenced by Americana and vocal elements of the The Smiths-led shoegaze era.

The new wave of sound is being led by the Captured Tracks trio DIIV, Wild Nothing and Beach Fossils, following on from the foot-in-the-door provided by Real Estate. These are bands worth keeping an eye on, and you’ll soon see why there’s a reason to start anticipating great things for the future of guitar music.

First up is DIIV. Their debut album Oshin got Manchester based promoters NowWave excited, playing them on their Beatwolf Radio slot as soon as they got their hands on a record. Led by Beach Fossils guitarist Zachary Cole Smith, who started DIIV (or ‘DIVE’ as it was then known) in his bedroom, their particular brand of ‘indie’ is full of americana inspired chord progressions, with a shoe gazing vocal laid over the top, but most interestingly is the citing of Malian guitarist Baba Salah, amongst others, who stimulated the project for Cole, taking it in a different direction from Beach Fossils. Fortunately, the resulting sounds are an invitation to get lost in tangly, sepulchral labyrinths far from this modern era, where you’re encouraged to focus all your concentration on something you can ‘like’ or re-tweet.

To continue our quest on Zachary C. Smith’s musical timeline, we must stop, get off and look at the view comprised of Beach Fossils. The staccato jangles, roller coaster bass lines and riffs filled with summer romance, they’re a band I like, quite a lot. Founded by Dustin Payseur as (yet another) solo recording project, we’re again glad this left the musical confines of the bedroom, producing an LP and an EP, Beach Fossils and What A Pleasure, with a host of singles dotted in and around each major release. Payseur is heavily influenced by poets, artists and philosophers alike, with the artist page on the Captured Tracks website listing Don Cherry, Ravi Shankar, Rumi, Lao-Tzu and Jean Cocteau as key influences. These inspirations are part of a writing process where collaborations with other band members from other bands like DIIV and Wild Nothing are also an integral part; a process which is ongoing with their sophomore LP penned for a late 2012 release.

The third and final member of this musical love triangle is Wild Nothing, overlapping with Beach Fossils, with main-man Jack Tatum contributing to the song “Out in the Way” on Beach Fossils’ What A Pleasure release. There are in fact two Wild Nothings, the solitary Tatum: one man in a studio, and his touring live band, which you can see play HMV Ritz on the 30th of this month supporting the Walkmen. New release Nocturne garnered deserved plaudits of a similar ilk to début Gemini, but one area where reviews haven’t been so positive is their live performance. If they’d only look at the audience once in a while, seeing them play and listening to the album might start to be a different experience. However, ultimately, I feel like I have to finish on a positive note, Wild Nothing is one shy guy, surrounded by a few shy guys, making incredible C86 singles and records that are helping to define the role of the guitar in the indie music scene.

To leave the Captured Tracks trio behind, introducing two new, British guitar bands should now be priority. Father Sculptor. Pale Seas. The former very Smiths esque (not necessarily a bad thing, but a claim that might just overshadow them) and the latter that is much more ambient, and having been featured last week on BBC Radio 6, are starting to climb the desired rungs in the business.

If you want to see what all the fuss is about, Wild Nothing play HMV Ritz on the 30th October, and DIIV frequent the Deaf Institute on the 20th November.