Say It With Garage Flowers

Yes, I know it’s the summer and I should be out enjoying the sunshine,
but to be honest I feel that my time is best spent alone in my flat,
listening to some seriously dark new music offerings.
 
You should be thankful – it saves you the effort and means you can go
to the park and do all those things that ‘normal’ people do in August
like having a picnic or sunbathing, safe in the knowledge that I’ve
found you some great new music to get you through the long, cold
winter ahead.  So, over the next few days, I’ll be posting details of
some of my fave new tunes up on Say It With Garage Flowers.
 
OK, so I admit I have made a sole concession to the hot weather by
listening to the album Summer of Hate by deliriously, scuzzy, fuzzy,
f***ed up, lo-fi indie-rock duo Crocodiles. Hailing from San Diego,
they sound and look like The Jesus and Mary Chain with their cool
shades, big hair, drum machine, feedback, droney guitars and
death-obsessed lyrics.
 
Their recent single I Wanna Kill is one of the best things I’ve heard
all year – a deliriously dumb, druggy pop tune that mixes the sound of
Phil Spector (on a track called I Wanna Kill, that is somewhat ironic,
don’t you think?) with Psychocandy/Darklands-era Mary Chain.

Just as you’re thinking it can’t get any better, they thrown in a
cheap, tinny organ solo that could have been half-inched from some
long-lost ’60s pop song – simply brilliant. It make you want to grab a
girl, get high and drive an open-top car down the freeway and off a
cliff, while listening to the Shangri-Las on the tape deck. Yep – it’s
that cool.
 
So, before you head out to the park, go and listen to Crocodiles. And
make it snappy.
 
Sorry.
 

 

So, it finally happened, then.
I’ve reached that age when I prefer Noel Gallagher singing Oasis songs
to Liam.
All through my twenties, I said that I liked Liam belting out the
tracks, but after the band’s recent iTunes gig at London’s Roundhouse,
I’ve decided that’s just not the case anymore.
In fact, I’ve drawn up my own, ahem, masterplan for the future of Oasis.
Sack Liam – he’s a liability and a parody of himself. At the
Roundhouse show, he sauntered onstage in a fishtail parka (yawn) and
proceeded to heckle the crowd, swear during songs and, sometimes, not
even bother to sing his parts.
Spending most of the set acting like a surly teenager who couldn’t
get his own way, he only seemed enthusiastic when he sang the songs
that he’d penned – namely Songbird and I’m Outta Time.
For the majority of the show, he sulked around and insulted the
punters. Nothing was sacred – we got tiresome, childish rants about skinny jeans,
pointy shoes and, even, living in Camden.
It was left to his big brother Noel to save the night – dissing Liam (“Someone’s in a bad mood tonight.”)
and coming into his own for superb semi-acoustic performances of The
Masterplan, Half The World Away and Don’t Look Back In Anger – Oasis’
unsung hero, Gem Archer, playing mean electric guitar and expertly
taking the solos.
Acting like a moody brat is oh so 1994, Liam – we’ve all moved on
since then. You’re in one of the best UK rock and roll bands of the
last 20 years, so, for god’s sake, show that you care. Just as the
Britpop Oasis versus Blur battle comes back to haunt us, Liam has
let the side down.
His band are, musically, better than they’ve ever been, but the
Roundhouse performance was tarnished by his sloppy, childish
behaviour. During My Big Mouth, he simply gave up singing and went to sit
on the drum riser, leaving Noel to take up the slack.
By the way, Noel, if you’re reading this, dump Liam, front the band yourself and become a Dadrock outfit in the vein of Weller
and his current musical cohorts. You may not be as rock and roll as
you were in the past, but at least you’ll maintain some dignity and
some musical credibilty – and perform some professional shows.
Liam – sorry mate, you’re outta time.