It's been a fair old while since Dots & Dashes juiced up the Magical Music Roundabout but then conversely, equally infrequently have a crop of slightly special acts seeped into our inbox. Weaning ourselves slowly but surely off of Monarchy's self-titled debut LP has authoritatively restricted the reception of *new music*, with its synthetic über-suaveness governing a perpetually infinite pile of promo acetate. The flag flies Monarchy atop the mound. Yet prowling base camp are the following...
Heartbreak never sounded as consolatory as it does in the warped hearts of Fourth Of July. Obviously not being of American origin, the date has little relevance pertaining to grievance, so from a personal, subjective and egotistical perspective, Self-Sabotage, a playfully naïve bumble through break-ups and breakdowns, is folk rock at its most beautifully bountiful, bereft of even the slightest artificiality. Barely contrived, it's as if Shout Out Louds never lost the plot and got, well, shit.
As elegantly simplistic as a Mondrian masterpiece, Parisian duo Mondrian disprove the (relatively truthful) urban myth that le Capital Français is capable of spewing out nothing more than hungover post-Ed Banger house Lite. Like a Francophonic Sufjan Stevens tumbling down the length of the Champs-Élysées with Tunng in tow, LHG is rather delightful. Twee as you like yet joyously so, une chanson pleine de mélodie magnifique, on écoute ci-dessous.
Set to revolutionise Italodisco and repatriate the genre from the cold, clasping hands of HURTS, Aeroplane reiterated on Without Lies the superiority of the cherry in comparison with the cake. Basically, Calm Palm Vapor, self-proclaimed boundary-smatterers (where 'space-Motown' meets 'post-shoegaze') are the most aurally pleasurable act experienced since, well, Monarchy really... So we're saving the most devourable for afters. Forthcoming long player Morning Pacific thrives on a melancholic majesty that blusters down your heart, before lovingly reconstructing it, artery by vein. A little like the sonic equivalent to Spike Jonze's Where The Wild Things Are, were it soundtracked by ambient apothecaries Air, its denouement filled with ceaseless resolution. Hate To See You Smile is I Am Kloot at their most anthemic, brimming with euphoria, whilst Everyday We Grow rattles with a rumbling discordance that recalls recent shoegaze underdogs Dirty On Purpose (R.I.P.), Golden Shoulders and Silversun Pickups. Rather splendid, really...
Let's go OTT, a little Wimbledon, crack the champagne and pour the cream - everyone loves a wildcard.
Dall'Italia, lo spirito punk risvegliato da un duo contestario... Piet Mondrianpresenta Apocalippo. Godetevi questo pezzo rivoluzionario e poi, dopo, provatevi a ricostruire la discussione dell'inettitudine della musica italiana.
