Released 10th November 2016
Released 10th November 2016
‘I think the music business will eventually crush me…’
To quote Frank Turner, ‘Let’s begin at the beginning’. What is the point of music? What is its purpose? You might want to make yourself comfortable for this one…
Music can be all things to all people. A shoulder to cry on, an old friend, or simply something to dance to. But can it also be a devil on your shoulder? There are certain artists who are so intertwined with teen angst that they feel like a rite of passage, part and parcel of coming of age.
How many teenagers believe they have found a kindred spirit in Morrissey or Kurt Cobain? For the most part we grow out of these obsessions as we emerge on the other side of adolescence. With Conor Oberst however, and more specifically his main musical project Bright Eyes, I still find myself plummeting down the rabbit hole of his music even now. When the old familiar darkness does hover at my door, it sometimes feels that I have a devil on each shoulder, Oberst and Tom Waits, with the angel seemingly missing in action.
Music is universal. There are, however, nuances and details that attract different people to different aspects of the art of song. Some people are drawn to the music themselves whilst others are infatuated by lyrical proficiency. Some like minimal sonic soundscapes whereas others just want to dance. I’d like to think that all those elements have influenced my musical tastes over the years. All of this pales into insignificance when compared to the most fundamental reason for enjoying music however. Do they fucking mean it?
Tom Hingley was the lead singer of legendary Manchester band Inspiral Carpets. After writing an acclaimed book of his time with the band and performing live across the country for years, he is back playing all the Inspiral Carpets hits with his backing band the Kar-pets. I caught up with Tom to preview his upcoming free gig at Social Bar on 24th September.
I have spoken before about my undying love for Oasis, Nirvana and Weezer. More than any other artists, those three shaped my life in untold ways and they continue to influence me even now. Even with that in mind though, there is a nagging feeling that they were never truly mine. I was 7 in 1994. The year that saw the release of Oasis’ Definitely Maybe, Weezer’s The Blue Album and the tragic suicide of Kurt Cobain. At 7, I was more interested in finding a free transformer in a box of Coco Pops than Kurt Cobain’s shotgun.
Arcade Fire are one of that rare breed of bands who manage to maintain their cult status and independent spirit despite being a global success. Until their most recent album I would probably have said they are the best band in the world but Reflektor was huge misstep for an otherwise excellent band.