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.