Fruit & Flowers – Drug Tax

fruitflowers

As if by magic, the floor was clean. Kevni was a fairly average specimen for a lifeform of his ilk, though moderately and comparatively more powerful than his brethren, for reasons not immediately obvious. This was because his ancestors had ballooned into this sphere several significant generations ago and now Kevni and his kin controlled all they surveyed, progressing the natives according to a thing they called a doctrine, whereby one must always seek constant growth of an imaginary consequence. Now, whilst the average reader might immediately grasp the possibilities of implementing such a philosophy for a predominantly spiritual quest, and indeed some families did indeed follow this path, the overall outcome was the most influential were Kevni’s forbears who established what you might term a monopo-fucking-ly and controlled much of the communication. They playfully allowed different modes of conduct within their framework, worded in such a way as to seem intractably opposed when their intended ends were still the same, and these usually resolved into seeming dichotomies of one system demanding that all worked together centrally controlled toward a supposed group growth, whilst their ‘opponents’ utilised the same small number of elite although they made them appear as if they were changeable, and these could then use their people in a much more insidiously exploitative manner. But the object of both was to grow, and grow they did, so Kevni’s dynasty was happy. Naturally, this became troublesome to their landscape, which acted as though irritated. Eventually a glutinous fog descended their world, slowly at first, then gradually more thickly and menacingly. Naturally, there were varied explanations. Those in favour of the perpetual growth model said it was symptomatic of something called a ‘climate change’ and urged everyone to buy replacement products that were ‘environmentally-friendly,’ which actually had no effect on the fog but allowed more of a substance called ‘money’ to change hands ultimately into the hands of Kevni and the gang. Others claimed that the fog was just part of a cycle in the environment that would happen anyway, species-led or not, and that they should just sit it out and not give in to any of this scare-mongering tactics. However, the fog really was quite toxic, and eventually they all died fighting each other for the last habitable bits of land that had resources for living off, which eventually dwindled to none. Not even the family Kevni survived.
Kevin had just applied a cream to a troublesome spot on his shoulder which had begun to bother him recently.

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The Wharves

Dear The Wharves,

I’m really, really struggling to write this post. Maybe I should just suffice it to say that I really, really like the ‘At Bay’ album. It reminds me in ways of the awesome Sleater-Kinney, maybe a bit less mono-riffic but a bit more catchy. Apparently your earlier stuff is heavier? Me go check out. Update: not noticeably heavier, but I still like it.

Gringo Records‘ description is frankly different to what I’d put. Also I have seen the words ‘psych-pop’ and ‘folk-rock’ used. I don’t like those as descriptors, either. Others have mentioned The Breeders – on that, I cannot comment, because I only ever heard that Cannonball song. Dancing about architecture, indeed. I mean, how would you describe yourselves? Ah yes, ‘alternative mid-fi.’ You know, I think I like that the best. It could work as a whole genre description – functionally meaningless and yet, when you hear the music, you can’t say it’s wrong.

However, I am flat out jealous of ‘Faultline’ which is one of the dirtiest riffs I’ve heard in a long time, and has resided in my head all week. And I am also chock full of admiration for the vocal approach you take. The harmonies are very often outrageous, but in no way unnatural. And I don’t normally like songs that interrupt a perfectly good groove in order to chuck in a new chord or two. Your songs do that, and I still like them. You clearly have something going on.

I’m off to find some architecture to dance to.

Yours  etc,

Flipdog

p.s. I don’t normally write letters to people I’ve never met before, particularly not in the digital public. This goes to show how desperate my lack of imagination was in writing this post! But the fact is, I had to do it anyway. So I did it.