Moving Pictures by Rush (1981)
Just to nail my colours to the mast; I don’t like prog rock, I find its overly long, meandering song structures and autistic twenty-something-never-felt-the-touch-of-a-woman lyrics
Just to nail my colours to the mast; I don’t like prog rock, I find its overly long, meandering song structures and autistic twenty-something-never-felt-the-touch-of-a-woman lyrics
I grew up in the late 90s, and every weirdo rock band that my 14-year-old-self listened to – Nine Inch Nails, Marilyn Manson, Placebo –
I’m internally conflicted about punk. Its abrasive, bile-spewing nihilism is compelling; its wilfully obstreperous lack of melody and musicianship less so. I want to like
The “battle of the bands” marketing gimmick had its roots in the 1960s, in the manufactured confrontation between the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, and
Bryan Ferry – surely one of the biggest prats in the history of rock – actually comes from oop North, the son of a farm
I saw Simple Minds live in 2015, in the German city of Kassel, and the memory of it haunts me to this day. The audience
Nu-metal is exceedingly naff – this much is clear. But there’s no room for musical snobbery here at Drunkenness and Cruelty, where the likes of
Continued from part I. Norman Fucking Rockwell! (2019)Norman Fucking Rockwell! signals the beginning of the second act of Lana Del Rey’s career. Her previous records
I more or less stopped listening to music by new artists in around 2010, resigning myself thereafter to releases by bands already familiar to me
Continued from part I. Blur (1997)The second half of the 90s was punctuated by a succession of Britpop hangover records, in which the scene’s buccaneering