Remember when the EMAs mostly consisted of VJ Simone on the red carpet in some ludicrous latex affair being crushed by various members of Die Toten Hosen? She’d slur something terrifically intoxicating into the camera, it’d cut back to an unawares Ray Cokes having a scratch before finally treating us to Jovanotti and his three…

It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch. Whilst Cheryl was busy rhyming ‘bars’ with ‘cars’ hanging on the every monosyllable of charisma void, triangle of cheese head Will.i.am, back combing her barnet into the size of Ohio, and generally living out the plot to a terrible rom-com much to the tabloids glee,seemingly unassuming…

Yes, MTV still hold award ceremonies no, not for ‘Best Pregnant 16 Year Old’ , ‘Most Vacant Stare (Hills Cast Special)’ or “Negative Stereotype of the Year” but for actual music videos, y’know the ones they never show anymore…
The VMAs are supposed to be ever so controversial, ever so punk rawk. It’s the anti-awards…

With the newly invigorated penchant for white blazers, gold jewellery and spongy slip-on loafers infecting many a callow youth these days it’s no wonder the universe has vomited up the soundtrack to match it. The hazy melodic pop classicism of this year’s golden boy Twin Shadow, and now the arrival of the equally fugged-up debut…

Since Beyoncé shimmied her shiny legs up and down the stage at Glastonbury there has been a worrying rustle throughout broadsheet land and the chatter of music elitists alike: is pop now ‘legitimate’? Is it okay to snack on the silly fluff in between your guitar/keyboard-crunching meals? It’s this terrifyingly misguided, empty-headed belief that resigns…

Sandwiched between the hysteric glamour of their debut and the breezy listening of Coming Up is the dark core of Suede. Dog Man Star… arrived as the unwelcomed antithesis of the ‘London Fields’ brandishing barrow boys squealing about their nights of oikish debauchery. It was a telescope on a bitter world, one threaded with blood,

So this is it. An album that has arrived in a chaotic whirlwind of over-digested, over-wrought, over-thought opinions. Every note, lyric, dance move, visual presentation pored over, to be subjected to such intense scrutiny it became farcical. ‘The album cover is terrible!” (Hee-Hee!). ”The lead single is silly’ (Ho! Ho!). “She can’t dance!” (Arf! Arf!).…

Would the Manics of old have charged the stage on a night like this, with Garda helicopters buzzing overhead to the strains of ‘Repeat’? Probably. If they tried it in Bangkok with Nicky Wire doing scissor kicks dressed like a cracked-up Hilda Ogden in front of armed Thai guards then Dublin would have been a…

SINGLE OF THE WEEK
Gruff Rhys – ‘Honey All Over’ (Turnstile Records)
No, the title is not a comment on his dulcet tones or a naughty statement about (ahem!) love juice a-la Mariah at her most minxy. Although if this tune had reached its intended musical destination of one Britney Jean Spears (true story), Lord…

Single of the Week…
Junior Boys – ‘Banana Ripple’ (Domino)
MMMMM. Just what we need in these unseasonably pleasant days, a new deliciously sweet sounding tune from those beardy bop-merchants Junior Boys. This tune has the potential to be the summer ‘sneaker-upper’, a song that seems to lack the instantaneous knock-down effect but then manages

Single of the Week…
Lady Gaga – Judas (Interscope Records)
So this is what it feels like to be beaten about the face repeatedly with a leather-studded crucifix (if such a thing does not exist it will by the time the video has wrapped). Thank Easter it’s Gaga! Having already exhausted the egg motif months

Apparently a concept album about sexy happenings and with a title that’s like porn Blankety Blank… these Oklahoma racket makers are not for the prudish. No wonder Wayne Coyne, a man who litters his Twitter (not a euphemism) with pictures of his naked wife, is a fan….the saucepot.
These kinky goings on are not the

Single of the Week
Fever Ray – ‘The Wolf’ (Rabid Records)
Beginning with a brown-note siren hum reminiscent of the bit in Carrie… where she eyeballs everyone before seeking her neck crushing revenge on prom night ,you know this is going to be a peep-from-behind-the-couch kind of song. Howling repeatedly like a lupine banshee, she

It is strangely fitting and rather comforting that on the day when diva extraordinaire Liz Taylor exits stage left, leaving the last vestiges of old school mystique, charisma and dubious hair-dos behind her, that we gather to watch the Trojan show pony that is Kylie Minogue attempting to unite Dublin in a festival of ludicrous…