Wednesday, 18 March 2009

hatcham social - you dig the tunnel, I'll hide the soil

toby has got a wonderful voice, he sings properly and he doesn't shout like most of the people out there, me included. in this first LP of them he needs to shout something thou: "what's mine is mine all mine and mine". key sentence of the album, essence of the band. listening to them you can tell the records they used to have on the shelves at home, you can tell the album they pick up at the charity shop and the ones they have to move when they are looking for the keys before going out.
but the loudest side of this "you dig the tunnel, I'll hide the soil" is theirs, all theirs and theirs.
that's what made me fall in love with them two years ago. in a seasick panorama where a generation of bands shout out who they want to resemble, I fall in love with the few who learned from the past and are not afraid of "not resemble".

Hatcham Social buy mostly records that are cheap to buy in London.
Hatcham Social can catch unusual frequencies from across the ocean.

Cheap records in London are into the boxes of unusual shops and either they sold millions of copies or they sold few thousands.
when unusual frequencies cross the ocean the signal is strong and everlasting.
I don't want to analyse the songs or the mixing because I think a review is not a suitable place to do so.
when in a record is possible to read all this and the identity of the band is still clear and strong... well... we are talking about a great album and a great band.

Just bloody listen, will ya?

ps- check out Dave's blog every now and then.

Monday, 9 March 2009

time is an artist

Time wears out the key in the hole. No matter how hard, no matter who's turning it. Time is working in silence, when the town is asleep or when you're miles away with your mind. It doesn't forget, for it's always there. At work. It apparently never leaves anything undone, unaccomplished. No no. Time modifies friendships, moulds consciences and shapes skylines. In silence. At work. You weren't there when time was already there, and you weren't aware when it was no longer there.
There are just a few who can recognize its masterpieces: a worn out book, a yellowish old polaroid picture, a rock that faces the Ocean or the sign of a canvas that used to hang from a wall. Nobody lives there. But time does.
So, let's recognise it: time is the most talent-gifted, solitary and patient artist. And probably the less paid.
The next time you do something special, take your time.