eops Top Ten of 2013
2013 was a vintage year for music full of unexpected returns and the inevitable shock of the new. I rather enjoyed the balance of new and old in this years list, feels like a rounded presentation but of course that is up to you - read on, dear reader, read on.First things first - there were a lot of great records that didn't quite make the list this year, so it only seems fair to give some of the best of them a quick #HaikuReview ...
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"Pirate radio,
Mix tapes, break-beats, warehouse raves.
That was our culture."
That was our culture."
"Feel a little down?
Don't put this on for fucks sake!
*Sad face forever*"
"Blame it on sunshine?
I blame it on the Moogy.
Downbeat abstraction."
"The rebel is back,
Celebration of jungle!
Jah! Rasta-Far-I!"
"Major energy!
This is ridiculous fun,
Not for the poe-faced."
So much for the also rans, here are my favourite ten releases of the year:
10. My Bloody Valentine - MBV
Finding a new My Bloody Valentine album was a bit like running into an old friend in the street. "Yeah so ... you remember mad Kevin? With the band and the fringe? Saw him earlier - looks great! Still sounds a bit mad; mumbling and droning on - but he is proper lovely is Kev". 20 years on and My Bloody Valentine haven't changed a bit, they are still the too cool for school indie band they always were. The only real difference is that they are truly 'Indie' now. So much so that the Mercury Prize disqualified them from their award for not having a digital distribution deal with iTunes or Amazon, because that's what matters right? They wouldn't have won in any case. 'MBV' is a sugar coated beef jerky of an album that could easily make the list but would always prove too sinewy for the soft palette of the 'Barclaycard Mercury Prize'. Those who appreciate the controlled dissonance of old will be blissfully rewarded but the casual Barclaycard user, looking for drive-time fulfilment will probably never get it. Thats OK - My Bloody Valentine aren't exactly headline hungry 'slebs' looking for endorsement, I expect Kevin Shields and company will happily dissolve into obscurity knowing they have left us richer for the slight return.
9. Kurt Vile - Walking on a pretty daze
Kurt Vile comes across as a very laid back kind of guy. He has a very chilled agenda; he likes walking, has long hair, writes ten minute pop songs and has that lovely American drawl about his diction. He sounds like a stoner but professes that he never touches the stuff, which is good because if he got any more laid back he would be horizontal. Maybe it was this slacker attitude that kept him off the radar for so long but now I've wallowed in 'Walking on a pretty daze' I feel like raiding the big fridge of Americana and chowing down on those cheese flavoured 'Goldtones'. This is an album for those mornings when you just want to enjoy the ride, not get too caught up in life and drift through the malaise.
8. Fuck Buttons - Slow Focus
A band so obtuse that their very name cannot be mentioned on radio. Their sonic smithery constructs a monster truck of noise riveted together with steely beats and teflon coated with a glaze of critic proof progressive rock styling. Theirs is not the hipster-induced minimalism that strangled all the fun out of club culture over the last few years, they work on a grand scale. Danny Boyle thought them sufficiently grand to feature in the greatest show on earth and 'Olympians' became the Shazam moment of London 2012 for many stupefied sports fans. It's all rather wonderful that this led them into the mainstream and indeed gifted them the number one album they richly deserve. Slow Focus is music that teeters on the edge of control; it drags the listener around like an illegal dog breed on a long leash - all you can do is to hold on and hope it doesn't catch whatever it is that it's chasing.
7. Charles Bradley - Victim of love
At this time of year we are encouraged to believe in all kinds of unlikely miracles but few can match the tear-jerking story behind Charles Bradley. Blessed with a rasping soul voice matured through years of hardship and grinding poverty, Bradley made ends meet as a James Brown impersonator. The likelihood of finding your own voice professionally in your mid 60s are very slim but a chance meeting with the Daptone label boss ushered in a minor Christmas miracle. Daptone are a 'retro' label but that's not to say they aren't pushing things forward in their own way. Like Amy Winehouse's 'Back to black' they use the familiar touchstones of classic soul but do so with a modern sensibility - forward looking lyrics and precision audio engineering. It's a throwback to quality rather than an attempt at retro kitsch. I mean ... Imagine finding out James Brown was back from the dead and ripping up trees again? Imagine no more, the understudy is stepping up and putting every ounce of his soul into these recordings. I cant stop listening to it.
6. Snow Ghosts - A small murmuration
Snow Ghosts are an anomaly in the genre obsessed world of 'dance music' (if indeed that is the world in which they belong). This is some seriously moody music. The sultry vocals sing of lost love, crows, hangmen and the sort of unhealthy fascination with death usually associated with black metal. Fittingly, it's the darkness of dub-step that underpins every line, which, in the capable hands of Ross Tones (Throwing Snow) has a striking precision and musicality to it. In the summer I had the pleasure of seeing Snow Ghosts play live in a small gothic church; the perfect venue for their haunting sound. They appeared resplendent with a string section and gave a spirited performance worthy of those hallowed walls - it was damn near perfect. Gong winning 'label of the year'; Houndstooth, deserve a lot of credit for supporting such a left field project with a set of uniquely disturbing videos and a beautifully presented physical release that adds a Cthulhu like quality to the artefact. Despite the Fabric connection, Houndstooth have allowed their vision to flourish unsullied. It's a million miles away from the dance floor but remains squarely on target for all the label stands for: innovation and risk taking.
5. King Krule - 6 feet beneath the moon
Sink estates, stale cigarettes and the endless grind of day-to-day survival in the capital provide the subject matter of King Krule. Gruff disappointment is evidenced in every line by a keen eye for the most mundane details of modern life. The delivery is equally rough edged and it's a voice that sounds wise well beyond it's years. The slight frame of the ginger haired Archie Marshall looks incapable of producing a sound so powerful - but it is definitely him. At just 19 years old, his competence as a songwriter suggests the birth certificate may have been dabbed at with Tipp-ex. The secret may lie in his schooling, he is 'a product' of the 'Brit School for Performing Arts' that brought us Amy and Adele; he has definitely honed his skills. Whatever you think of hot housing talent like this, you would have to admit that they did a marvellous job of not ironing out his personality. 6 feet from the moon contains poignant songs, barbed with melancholy and truth - the promise of another 20 years of development is tantalising.
4. Grumbling Fur - Glynnaestra
Music journalism is a dying art - gone are the days of 4-5 weekly publications vying for space on the shelves of WHSmith. Instead we now have 4-5 million bloggers (myself included) throwing opinions at the internet like so many monkeys having a dirty protest. Very little sticks to these virtual walls but there is hope for those of us looking for something a little off the beaten track. The Quietus run a distinctly uncommercial website where personal taste is celebrated and catch all genres are treated with the distain they deserve. So left field are they that when I initially saw their review of a band called 'Grumbling Fur' I presumed it was an in-joke for hipsters - far from it. Daniel O'Sullivan and Alexander Tucker have been making experimental music in a variety of guises for some time but the stars have truly aligned with the release of 'Glynnaestra' their 3rd album as Grumbling Fur. It offers a series of intriguing soundscapes and futuristic folk songs that defy categorisation. This album is best approached with no preconceptions but if you need something to get a foothold on then I recommend the lyrical repurposing of the Bladerunner script on the glorious 'Ballad of Roy Batty', it's a peerless reinvention that manages to sound as if it's always been there - much like the rest of the album.
3. Savages - Silence yourself
OK, lets get this out of the way as quickly as we can; the lead singer does sound a bit like Siouxsie Sioux - get over it! Theres only so much DNA in the world. They do share a female perspective and post punk sensibilities but the Savages have their own manifesto and sound. In the age of 'Indie-Landfill' it's been a long time since I heard a band sound this angry and articulate. Silence Yourself is a maze of sexual politics and cultural criticism. The music acts as the angry mob agitating for change, smashing windows and glass ceilings alike. The album itself is skilfully recorded, turn it up and you are right there with them - from the spoken word intro of 'Shut up' to the rodeo thrash of 'Hit me' Savages stampede across your stereo only to leave you considering the wonderfully detached lament of 'Marshall Dear'. Live they make even more sense, I expect a lot more to come as Savages continue their mission to make this clamorous society shut up and listen for a second.
2. Factory Floor - Factory Floor
From the outside, the synthetic ramblings of Factory Floor might seem mechanical, devoid of humanity even. I think that is just what comes from being so devoted to an idealised sound. They make no concessions and ask no favours. In an age when Ministry of Sound compilations regurgitate dance culture over supermarket shelves and America embraces EDMs garish post Ibiza trance-step honkery, Factory Floor bring a much needed punk attitude back to the dancefloor. This is warehouse music. It may sound empty to those raised on a high calorie diet of Tiesto and Guetta but stick it on a sound system and it will rattle your teeth out just as effectively. Less really CAN mean more. If Skynet made techno instead of Terminators, they would sound something like this. However that suggests that this sort of music is simply generated but there is, buried deep inside of it - a very human heart. The truth is synthesizers don't program themselves, it takes a very precise and disciplined imagination to create such rigurously structured music and still imbue it with life. Factory Floor strip everything back to basics and in doing so remind me why techno is still a vital and deeply primal sound.
1. David Bowie - The Next Day
Hello old friend, I started to worry you would never return. As a disclaimer I had better admit that I have always loved 'The Dame'. I've bought every album, (often more through hope than expectation). That said I am under no illusions - I may have bought them all, but that's not to say I've liked them all. Bowie fans accept the odd stinker because what we love most about Bowie is that we never know where he is going to take us next, so rest assured this isn't just a blinkered fanboy salutation. I was more than ready for crushing disappointment after a decade of silence ... in fact I was half expecting it. Well, I say I was expecting it but the jaw dropping thing was that *nobody* was expecting it - it just dropped like a star-man's meteor onto a velvet cushion. 'Where are we now?' was such a low-key first single that it wrong footed almost everyone. Some critics jumped to the conclusion that his rocking days were over, his voice had gone and by returning to Berlin he had possibly run out of ideas - oh boy did they get a crinkly mouth. Everything about it confounded expectation, the stripped back nature of the band, the jarringly simplistic cover, the total lack of promotion, the suite of excellent videos showcasing some of the best new artists and film makers alongside a stellar cast of cameos, but the real boon was in the songwriting. Tunes that burrow deep into the subconscious and lyrics that reveal layer after layer of surprisingly contemporary subtext. All of this set against a summer in which the 'David Bowie is ...' exhibition sold out the V&A all summer long. The Thin White Duke is back, all hail The Dame! Now David - lets have a tour and make 2014 a very happy new year indeed.
Gig of the year:
Loop - ATP End of an Era
The returning kings of noise destroyed All Tomorrows Parties last UK hurrah at Camber Sands and reminded all present of their searing psychedelic majesty.
Reissue of the year:
Aretha Franklin - I never loved a man like I love you
Repressed on 180 gram heavyweight vinyl and remastered with due care and attention this album captures all that is good about soul music and the vinyl format.
Compilation of the year:
V/A Trevor Jackson presents Metal Dance 2
A celebration of EBM, Industrial and Post Punk Electronica, this left field compilation marks a period of invention often overlooked by clubland historians.
One to watch:
East India Youth
Looking something like a dapper young Doctor Who, East India Youth writes mesmeric pop songs that beam in and out of existence like the TARDIS being bump started on a cold day. It's hard to put your finger on why this music resonates so much but all the signs are good with critical support from the likes of The Guardian's Alexis Petridis and The (aforementioned) Quietus. William Doyle (for he is the East India Youth), is now signed to Stolen Recordings and has a publishing deal with 4AD (the legendary indie label that brought us the Cocteau Twins and Bauhaus amongst many others). An album is expected in January and I have high hopes for the youth.
Any other business?
Look, if I've paid £20 for a gig ticket the least you can do is shut the fuck up when the headliners are on. I've done a bit of research and I reckon that the optimum price of a gig is about £8. Any less and people chat all over it because they haven't invested in the experience. Any more and they just don't give a fuck. In fact the worst gigs of all are the really sodding expensive ones full of day trippers who have no idea who they're going to see. I paid £70 (seven - zero), to see Kraftwerk at the Tate Modern only to have to listen to some woman asking pertinent questions all the way through such as: 'Oh was that the sound of a real car?' ... "Was that a Eurostar train?" ... "Sounds just like a bike now eh?" ... "Is Space Lab real?" and on and fucking on like a toddler at the zoo. As the Savages say - 'Silence yourself', or I will.
Ridiculous hype of the year
There is only one candidate for this award - Daft Punk. Much as I love Nile Rogers and reluctantly accept that 'Get Lucky' is a catchy bit of disco by numbers, I was utterly appalled by the hype-driven, cash in the envelope, 10/10 reviews this record received. A score of 10/10 suggests the record is *PERFECT*, that it deserves a place amongst the all-time greats and crucially that it pushes the genre forward. 'Random Access Memories' has none of these traits. How anyone can label this pompous pile of over produced 70s revivalism as the 'future of dance music' is simply beyond me. There is nothing new on this record. It's a 6/10 on a good day but the industry loves a big commercial hit and regrettably far too many erstwhile 'trusted reviewers' decided that sucking on corporate cock was more important than actually giving an honest appraisal in context. *Oh no's - now you has the sad face*? I know, I know ... you like it! It's fun! The robot voices are SO COOL! Well that's as may be but its certainly not a 'great' LP worthy of a perfect score, really, it just isn't. File it alongside all the other 'Ministry of Sound' compilations you buy to prove you are still 'down with the kids'. Then take a long hard look at yourself. In the interests of fairness I shall offer another #HaikuReview - 17 more syllables than it deserves really.
No. YOU shut up.
I feel much better for getting that off my chest - go buy; Gold Panda, Faulty DL, Zed Bias or any number of far more impressive dance LPs released this year.
Thank you for reading, please buy your music - and if you can, re-employ your record player (or buy a new one), and enjoy the feeling of music on a physical format again.
Feedback/abuse welcome,
eops
8. Fuck Buttons - Slow Focus
A band so obtuse that their very name cannot be mentioned on radio. Their sonic smithery constructs a monster truck of noise riveted together with steely beats and teflon coated with a glaze of critic proof progressive rock styling. Theirs is not the hipster-induced minimalism that strangled all the fun out of club culture over the last few years, they work on a grand scale. Danny Boyle thought them sufficiently grand to feature in the greatest show on earth and 'Olympians' became the Shazam moment of London 2012 for many stupefied sports fans. It's all rather wonderful that this led them into the mainstream and indeed gifted them the number one album they richly deserve. Slow Focus is music that teeters on the edge of control; it drags the listener around like an illegal dog breed on a long leash - all you can do is to hold on and hope it doesn't catch whatever it is that it's chasing.
7. Charles Bradley - Victim of love
At this time of year we are encouraged to believe in all kinds of unlikely miracles but few can match the tear-jerking story behind Charles Bradley. Blessed with a rasping soul voice matured through years of hardship and grinding poverty, Bradley made ends meet as a James Brown impersonator. The likelihood of finding your own voice professionally in your mid 60s are very slim but a chance meeting with the Daptone label boss ushered in a minor Christmas miracle. Daptone are a 'retro' label but that's not to say they aren't pushing things forward in their own way. Like Amy Winehouse's 'Back to black' they use the familiar touchstones of classic soul but do so with a modern sensibility - forward looking lyrics and precision audio engineering. It's a throwback to quality rather than an attempt at retro kitsch. I mean ... Imagine finding out James Brown was back from the dead and ripping up trees again? Imagine no more, the understudy is stepping up and putting every ounce of his soul into these recordings. I cant stop listening to it.
6. Snow Ghosts - A small murmuration
Snow Ghosts are an anomaly in the genre obsessed world of 'dance music' (if indeed that is the world in which they belong). This is some seriously moody music. The sultry vocals sing of lost love, crows, hangmen and the sort of unhealthy fascination with death usually associated with black metal. Fittingly, it's the darkness of dub-step that underpins every line, which, in the capable hands of Ross Tones (Throwing Snow) has a striking precision and musicality to it. In the summer I had the pleasure of seeing Snow Ghosts play live in a small gothic church; the perfect venue for their haunting sound. They appeared resplendent with a string section and gave a spirited performance worthy of those hallowed walls - it was damn near perfect. Gong winning 'label of the year'; Houndstooth, deserve a lot of credit for supporting such a left field project with a set of uniquely disturbing videos and a beautifully presented physical release that adds a Cthulhu like quality to the artefact. Despite the Fabric connection, Houndstooth have allowed their vision to flourish unsullied. It's a million miles away from the dance floor but remains squarely on target for all the label stands for: innovation and risk taking.
5. King Krule - 6 feet beneath the moon
Sink estates, stale cigarettes and the endless grind of day-to-day survival in the capital provide the subject matter of King Krule. Gruff disappointment is evidenced in every line by a keen eye for the most mundane details of modern life. The delivery is equally rough edged and it's a voice that sounds wise well beyond it's years. The slight frame of the ginger haired Archie Marshall looks incapable of producing a sound so powerful - but it is definitely him. At just 19 years old, his competence as a songwriter suggests the birth certificate may have been dabbed at with Tipp-ex. The secret may lie in his schooling, he is 'a product' of the 'Brit School for Performing Arts' that brought us Amy and Adele; he has definitely honed his skills. Whatever you think of hot housing talent like this, you would have to admit that they did a marvellous job of not ironing out his personality. 6 feet from the moon contains poignant songs, barbed with melancholy and truth - the promise of another 20 years of development is tantalising.
4. Grumbling Fur - Glynnaestra
Music journalism is a dying art - gone are the days of 4-5 weekly publications vying for space on the shelves of WHSmith. Instead we now have 4-5 million bloggers (myself included) throwing opinions at the internet like so many monkeys having a dirty protest. Very little sticks to these virtual walls but there is hope for those of us looking for something a little off the beaten track. The Quietus run a distinctly uncommercial website where personal taste is celebrated and catch all genres are treated with the distain they deserve. So left field are they that when I initially saw their review of a band called 'Grumbling Fur' I presumed it was an in-joke for hipsters - far from it. Daniel O'Sullivan and Alexander Tucker have been making experimental music in a variety of guises for some time but the stars have truly aligned with the release of 'Glynnaestra' their 3rd album as Grumbling Fur. It offers a series of intriguing soundscapes and futuristic folk songs that defy categorisation. This album is best approached with no preconceptions but if you need something to get a foothold on then I recommend the lyrical repurposing of the Bladerunner script on the glorious 'Ballad of Roy Batty', it's a peerless reinvention that manages to sound as if it's always been there - much like the rest of the album.
3. Savages - Silence yourself
OK, lets get this out of the way as quickly as we can; the lead singer does sound a bit like Siouxsie Sioux - get over it! Theres only so much DNA in the world. They do share a female perspective and post punk sensibilities but the Savages have their own manifesto and sound. In the age of 'Indie-Landfill' it's been a long time since I heard a band sound this angry and articulate. Silence Yourself is a maze of sexual politics and cultural criticism. The music acts as the angry mob agitating for change, smashing windows and glass ceilings alike. The album itself is skilfully recorded, turn it up and you are right there with them - from the spoken word intro of 'Shut up' to the rodeo thrash of 'Hit me' Savages stampede across your stereo only to leave you considering the wonderfully detached lament of 'Marshall Dear'. Live they make even more sense, I expect a lot more to come as Savages continue their mission to make this clamorous society shut up and listen for a second.
2. Factory Floor - Factory Floor
From the outside, the synthetic ramblings of Factory Floor might seem mechanical, devoid of humanity even. I think that is just what comes from being so devoted to an idealised sound. They make no concessions and ask no favours. In an age when Ministry of Sound compilations regurgitate dance culture over supermarket shelves and America embraces EDMs garish post Ibiza trance-step honkery, Factory Floor bring a much needed punk attitude back to the dancefloor. This is warehouse music. It may sound empty to those raised on a high calorie diet of Tiesto and Guetta but stick it on a sound system and it will rattle your teeth out just as effectively. Less really CAN mean more. If Skynet made techno instead of Terminators, they would sound something like this. However that suggests that this sort of music is simply generated but there is, buried deep inside of it - a very human heart. The truth is synthesizers don't program themselves, it takes a very precise and disciplined imagination to create such rigurously structured music and still imbue it with life. Factory Floor strip everything back to basics and in doing so remind me why techno is still a vital and deeply primal sound.
1. David Bowie - The Next Day
Hello old friend, I started to worry you would never return. As a disclaimer I had better admit that I have always loved 'The Dame'. I've bought every album, (often more through hope than expectation). That said I am under no illusions - I may have bought them all, but that's not to say I've liked them all. Bowie fans accept the odd stinker because what we love most about Bowie is that we never know where he is going to take us next, so rest assured this isn't just a blinkered fanboy salutation. I was more than ready for crushing disappointment after a decade of silence ... in fact I was half expecting it. Well, I say I was expecting it but the jaw dropping thing was that *nobody* was expecting it - it just dropped like a star-man's meteor onto a velvet cushion. 'Where are we now?' was such a low-key first single that it wrong footed almost everyone. Some critics jumped to the conclusion that his rocking days were over, his voice had gone and by returning to Berlin he had possibly run out of ideas - oh boy did they get a crinkly mouth. Everything about it confounded expectation, the stripped back nature of the band, the jarringly simplistic cover, the total lack of promotion, the suite of excellent videos showcasing some of the best new artists and film makers alongside a stellar cast of cameos, but the real boon was in the songwriting. Tunes that burrow deep into the subconscious and lyrics that reveal layer after layer of surprisingly contemporary subtext. All of this set against a summer in which the 'David Bowie is ...' exhibition sold out the V&A all summer long. The Thin White Duke is back, all hail The Dame! Now David - lets have a tour and make 2014 a very happy new year indeed.
Gig of the year:
Loop - ATP End of an Era
The returning kings of noise destroyed All Tomorrows Parties last UK hurrah at Camber Sands and reminded all present of their searing psychedelic majesty.
Reissue of the year:
Aretha Franklin - I never loved a man like I love you
Repressed on 180 gram heavyweight vinyl and remastered with due care and attention this album captures all that is good about soul music and the vinyl format.
Compilation of the year:
V/A Trevor Jackson presents Metal Dance 2
A celebration of EBM, Industrial and Post Punk Electronica, this left field compilation marks a period of invention often overlooked by clubland historians.
One to watch:
East India Youth
Looking something like a dapper young Doctor Who, East India Youth writes mesmeric pop songs that beam in and out of existence like the TARDIS being bump started on a cold day. It's hard to put your finger on why this music resonates so much but all the signs are good with critical support from the likes of The Guardian's Alexis Petridis and The (aforementioned) Quietus. William Doyle (for he is the East India Youth), is now signed to Stolen Recordings and has a publishing deal with 4AD (the legendary indie label that brought us the Cocteau Twins and Bauhaus amongst many others). An album is expected in January and I have high hopes for the youth.
Any other business?
Look, if I've paid £20 for a gig ticket the least you can do is shut the fuck up when the headliners are on. I've done a bit of research and I reckon that the optimum price of a gig is about £8. Any less and people chat all over it because they haven't invested in the experience. Any more and they just don't give a fuck. In fact the worst gigs of all are the really sodding expensive ones full of day trippers who have no idea who they're going to see. I paid £70 (seven - zero), to see Kraftwerk at the Tate Modern only to have to listen to some woman asking pertinent questions all the way through such as: 'Oh was that the sound of a real car?' ... "Was that a Eurostar train?" ... "Sounds just like a bike now eh?" ... "Is Space Lab real?" and on and fucking on like a toddler at the zoo. As the Savages say - 'Silence yourself', or I will.
Ridiculous hype of the year
There is only one candidate for this award - Daft Punk. Much as I love Nile Rogers and reluctantly accept that 'Get Lucky' is a catchy bit of disco by numbers, I was utterly appalled by the hype-driven, cash in the envelope, 10/10 reviews this record received. A score of 10/10 suggests the record is *PERFECT*, that it deserves a place amongst the all-time greats and crucially that it pushes the genre forward. 'Random Access Memories' has none of these traits. How anyone can label this pompous pile of over produced 70s revivalism as the 'future of dance music' is simply beyond me. There is nothing new on this record. It's a 6/10 on a good day but the industry loves a big commercial hit and regrettably far too many erstwhile 'trusted reviewers' decided that sucking on corporate cock was more important than actually giving an honest appraisal in context. *Oh no's - now you has the sad face*? I know, I know ... you like it! It's fun! The robot voices are SO COOL! Well that's as may be but its certainly not a 'great' LP worthy of a perfect score, really, it just isn't. File it alongside all the other 'Ministry of Sound' compilations you buy to prove you are still 'down with the kids'. Then take a long hard look at yourself. In the interests of fairness I shall offer another #HaikuReview - 17 more syllables than it deserves really.
Daft Punk - Random access memories
"Coffee table dance,
Self indulgent retro kitsch,
Overrated? Meh ..."
No. YOU shut up.
I feel much better for getting that off my chest - go buy; Gold Panda, Faulty DL, Zed Bias or any number of far more impressive dance LPs released this year.
Thank you for reading, please buy your music - and if you can, re-employ your record player (or buy a new one), and enjoy the feeling of music on a physical format again.
Feedback/abuse welcome,
eops
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