The Trouble with Streaming

Yesterday, Spotify - presumably fuelled by the fear of Apple Music stealing all their users - rolled out a new feature called Discover Weekly. What this means is that, every Monday morning, Spotify will give each user a two-hour 'mixtape' (read: playlist) of songs it reckons that user will like.

Now, I don't use Spotify (or any music streaming service) very much, so I don't suppose I'm the target audience for this new feature. Bear that in mind as I tell you why I dislike it.

Day-Glo Dreams & The Art of Depressing Me

I've long thought that the most depressing music is that which doesn't immediately announce itself as such. The work of Radiohead, for instance, is often dismissed as 'music to slit your wrists to', but it's not like Thom Yorke et al make any secret of that; nobody is going to mistake No Surprises for a happy song, and for me, that obviousness kind of dulls the emotional impact.

Conversely - and this is an example that I've used previously - Jonathan Coulton's Shop Vac sounds upbeat and chirpy the first time you hear it, and only later do you realise how depressing the song truly is.

To wit: the narrator and his partner have become almost completely detached from each other, to the point where they never spend any time together any more. Still, it doesn't matter if she cries about it, because he'll be downstairs, and her sobs will be drowned out by the Shop-Vac (whatever that is).

Have you ever seen a movie or a TV show where one of the good guys unexpectedly turned out to be a baddie? Remember how shocked you were when that person revealed their true loyalties? Well, that's similar to what I'm talking about here - Radiohead don't make me feel depressed, because I'm not expecting their songs to be anything but misery and doom. The truly upsetting songs, the ones that really make you feel hollow and horrid inside, are the ones that let you get close to them; the ones that let you listen several times and believe that you've found the feel-good hit of the summer before they spin you around and plunge a knife into your back.

All of which brings me to Day-Glo Dreams by Helen Love.

Surely these Scott Pilgrim-esque funsters don't have anything depressing to say? Right...?

At first, this record sounds like the soundtrack to Super Monkey Ball or something. There are shiny synths and catchy choruses and all sorts of sparkly sonic bells and whistles that hide, for now, the album's true subject matter.

Wilco: A New Hope

Upon discovering that Wilco were giving away a surprise new album for free this morning, my first thought was: "Why the heck have they called it Star Wars?"

Having downloaded the album and listened to it twice, I'm still none the wiser on that front. Perhaps Jeff Tweedy is just really, really excited for The Force Awakens.

However, titular concerns aside, I'm pleased to report that Star Wars is actually a dang good album - certainly better than a free giveaway has any right to be. When I heard the news, I kind of assumed that this would just be some undercooked, mostly improvised 'gift to fans' that wouldn't really count as a proper Wilco album, but happily, Star Wars is a million miles from the tossed-off rubbish I feared it would be.

10 Questions for ESKA

ESKA is the woman behind one of the most beautiful, challenging, and original records of the year so far.  Her self-titled album blends its creator's spectacular voice with a dizzying array of musical genres, including funk, folk, psychedelia, experimental music, soul...I could go on.

This mesmerising musical stew has been rewarded with deafening hollers of critical approval (at time of writing, ESKA has a Metacritic score of 82, indicating 'Universal Acclaim'), and after years of co-writing and featuring on other people's tracks, Eska Mtungwazi has finally stepped into a spotlight of her own.

I recently sent ESKA a few questions about her amazing album, and she was kind enough to supply me with some answers. So, without further preamble...

Why did you decide to name the album after yourself?

It has taken over 150 released titles (as a co-writer or featured artist) for me to arrive at this album. 'ESKA' felt like the most appropriate title for a work that finally reconciled my artistic and cultural identity.

Is there a narrative or theme that ties these songs together?

On closer lyrical inspection there's a city and a river, the colours blue and red, references to mythological characters. The work as a whole sets me up as a heroine in my own quest. I suppose the quest was my journey making this album - I drew those conclusions once the record was complete.

Get Powerless with The Burning Hell!

Here's an album that I've been wanting to tell you all about for quite a while. I discovered Canadian indie funsters The Burning Hell at a gig in Cardiff last month (I was mainly there to see support act Quiet Marauder), and so rad were their jams that I was compelled to buy one of their CDs.

The CD that I bought was Flux Capacitor, and friends, it truly is a rare gem. Great tunes, fantastic and frequently hilarious lyrics, fab brass/wind arrangements...this one has it all. I've never known another album to be so beautifully sad and yet so joyously celebratory at the same time.