Chairlift - 'Evident Utensil'

In truth I was a bit too young for The Slits the first time round. I've just googled 1979 and it looks like my favourite hits of the year were The Buggles' Video Killed The Radio Star and The Boomtown Rats' I Don't Like Mondays. Could be worse. But I've since come to love the warped, feminist reggae of Ari Up and co. I'm hearing a lot of that now in this tune by Chairlift, another in that seemingly endless wave of US bands - see also Vampire Weekend, MGMT and Yeasayer - who mix things up like kids who never heard of genres and wash up on these shores to great acclaim. There is no criticism here - all of those bands have much to commend them, and we have been so ill-served domestically these past few years by dull, pale British boys who all wanted to be The Libertines. Did I miss anybody out? Only the next five uber-cool bands I haven't heard of yet.

So yes, this Chairlift tune - and I can't confess I've investigated further beyond this immediate particular seven inch, although obviously it's on my gargantuan list of Things To Do once I've stopped wasting time putting in order sequences of words for an audience of five - puts me in mind of the Slits, and that, in my book, can be no bad thing. The less masculine we can make this thing we call music, the better - that's my view. True, with its daft lyrics about pencils it lacks the political edge of our correctly-chromosomed crusaders of yesteryear, but hey, don't we all? Anyway, one can stretch analogy too far. There are blokes involved in this too. There's one singing in the background, in a ludicrous, faux-sexy deep voice. For some reason the reference that popped into my head here was The Boys Town Gang, but then when I checked, their most famous tune doesn't have any male backing vocals in it, just some fabulous dancing - although you should not need any excuse to view this video. Instant Prozac, except this stuff works.

The b-side is the usual non-essential remix which isn't as good as the a side, this time by our new friends the aforementioned MGMT, although the backing vocals really come into their own here. The physical object, on Kanine Records, where you've previously found Holy Hail and Grizzly Bear, both revered in these quarters, is sold out at Norman Records, although Rough Trade or Pure Groove might have it, and remarkably for once, given it's something new, you can get it on crusty eMusic instead of giving Apple any more of your money. Remember, paying for music is the new getting music for free.

Munch Munch - 'Wedding'

A couple of weeks ago I worried that I was going through one of those dips in the road where music mattered less. Well, I appear to be through that now. Partly it's this new Vampire Weekend record, which I suspect is the sort of thing I'm ideologically not supposed to like, but with which I appear to be helplessly obsessed regardless, and partly it's seeing Art Brut a few days back for the first time in ages and them restoring my faith in rock and roll. True, I was drunk, but I somehow had a very good night indeed, for perhaps the first time this year.

And then there's Tomlab, again, they being very much the label of choice for anyone seeking something they can't automatically predict these days. I'd offer to marry them and have their kids, except that I'm a man, I'm already married, and they're a record label. Apart from that, I foresee no difficulties, and may well propose sometime when suitably intoxicated. On offer this time is the fractured glam disco of Munch Munch. This is fine, ramshackle fare, boasting a chorus so rudimentary that it doesn't contain any words as such, until that is someone with a sore throat decides he might as well get involved too and joins in. This is so DIY it's held together with gaffer tape, but at the same time it has a mirrorball surface sheen. Then two thirds of the way through it turns into another song, with a cheap organ sound that recalls early - i.e. good - Inspiral Carpets. It's as chaotic as a northern wedding, and much more fun than the last few I've been to.

Rough Trade - I like their new shop, although it appears to be mostly a place for people to drink coffee - would appear to still have this.

Fuck Buttons - 'Bright Tomorrow'

So, fucking Fuck Buttons, then. As I think we have by now established, there is currently an intriguing correlation between swearing and musical quality. As a rule it doesn't hold hard and fast, of course, but there would seem to be a fair degree of overlap between using what we might coyly call the f word and producing something worth listening to.

I'm increasingly told I swear too much, by the way, and occasionally make failed efforts to cut down. But swearing's as addictive as smack. At work, where I daily and increasingly interrogate the gap between effort and meaning, I have apparently infected my colleagues, and unwittingly introduced a culture of swearing which negatively impacts on the image of the organisation, or something. Like I fucking care. On one recent work trip I was advised the old swearing thing had slipped completely beyond the grasp of my control, at which point I instituted a day in which I would do my damnedest to watch my language, or each time I failed I would donate £1 to charity. This was a day in which I was excessively, maddeningly careful with my fucks. And it still cost me £25. Is there a support group I can join? Are there internet brethren I can socially network with to cure me of this ill?

Anyway, to this. It's all going along nicely enough as some kind of Spaceman Three - no, come back, but good - type of subdued drony thing, and then this ultra articificial, thin metallic guitar comes on over the top, and that's enough already to tickle the fancy of yer average Mogwai fan like me, until some bloke starts incomprehensively howling, indeed screaming, along as well. He's certainly venting, and possibly feels better for it afterwards. We may be listening to someone's catharsis here. The whole thing disappears as soon as it starts, via a quick bout of thudding drum, to leave you puzzled, wondering about meaning... but playing it again. This is all very avant-something. It's brill.

And wonderfully it's on a 7" picture disc, and as they seem to be a bit arsey about taking it off MP3 blogs which are seeking to share the good news, which I have mixed feelings about, it means you've got to go out and buy it and maybe support your struggling independent record shop in the process.

Now I may have to take time out from stalking Vampire Weekend, which is pretty much a full time job at the moment, to make good on this threat, but after this, I expect great things of this lot, and reserve the right to be disappointed and a bit disapproving if they don't go on to achieve them.