than to sit and make a audio CD (if you can remember them) that contains all your most wonderlicious musicial moments from the 12 months past.

The idea of the compilation CD is thus: with 16000GB capacity MP3 players giving more music at fingertips than you’ll live long enough to listen to, it’s important to keep it frugal and force yourself to choose only the tastiest selection that will fit on ONE solitary audio CD (80mins or less). MP3 CDs are cheating.

The idea is to create your own CD and post the track listings here, swap CDs with pals and discover new music, or maybe just display disbelief that others have left off a particular song for that band you happen to like.

Make sure all your music selections ARE actually from 2009 (just sort your WinAmp / Media Player / iTunes into ‘year’ order).

Also, only one entry per artist please, but I suppose if someone is part of two groups, then that’s fine.

My 2009 Compilation CD (under 80 mins)

1. Mew – Introducing Palace Players » listen here
2. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Heads Will Role » listen here
3. Fever Ray – Triangle Walks » listen here
4. The xx – Islands » listen here
5. Beirut – My Wife, Lost in the Wild » listen here
6. Golden Silvers – True No.9 Blues (True Romance) » listen here
7. St. Vincent – The Party » listen here
8. Why? – Against Me » listen here
9. Blue Roses – I Am Leaving » listen here
10. Memory Tapes – Bicycle » listen here
11. Passion Pit – The Reeling » listen here
12. The Pains of Being Pure of Heart – A Teenager in Love » listen here
13. Bombay Bicycle Club – Dust on the Ground » listen here
14. Grizzly Bear – While You Wait for the Others » listen here
15. White Denim – I Start to Run » listen here
16. Camera Obscura – My Maudlin Career » listen here
17. Bat For Lashes – Daniel » listen here
18. Sufjan Stevens – You Are The Blood » listen here

What music have you been listening to this yeear? What’s your favourite song? Favourite album? Top 5 songs? What’s on your 2009 CD? Let me know below…

For anyone unfamiliar with Karin Dreijer Andersson; she’s what Kate Bush would sound like if she were a morose, malfunctioning Swedish robot. She is also one half of the electro-doom-pop brother/sister duo The Knife, whose 2006 album Silent Shout is regarded by many (including moi) to be one the most beguiling and addictive albums of recent years.

Fever Ray then, Karin’s solo project, wisely navigates the dark paths of Silent Shout, while giving the album enough of its own persona to send it on a refreshing, occasionally uplifting direction. In truth, it’s pretty darn wondrous.

Anyone who found The Knife’s last full-length too aggressive or dense to truly love may find Fever Ray to be a (slightly) lighter and more accessible affair. Not that Fever Ray at any point compromises on its beautifully creepy vision. Karin’s trademark ethereal vocals (both with and without the vocoder) still linger eerily among her innocent, child-like lyrics – lost in a landscape of mechanical blips and uneasy keyboards… yet there’s a hope to Fever Ray that has been missing perhaps from Karin’s other musical outfit.

First track and subsequent single If I Had A Heart recalls Massive Attack’s Special Cases or more recently, various tracks from Portishead’s Third – with its pulsating underpinnings and shadowy tone, it sounds less like a song, and more like a warning.

Fortunately though, the album’s mood shifts to lighter moments such as Seven and When I Was Young, displaying the purity and cordiality that is often concealed in the music.

It’s worth noting that; in the digital age and sale of the physical release declining, it seems album artwork is becoming a increasingly overlooked art form, which is a shame as Fever Ray’s album cover – reminiscent of the stark black and whites of cartoonist Charles Burns – is a cover that accurately conveys the mood and theme of its stuffing.

Where bands such as M83 / Crystal Castles / Air France / Cut Copy et al have successfully resurrected the synth-pop of the 1980s in recent years, Fever Ray and The Knife make a conscious effort to steer their synth-ships to darker territory. And there are few folk creating music as pretty as this.

- Listen to Fever Ray at Klicktrack.

Hello you. To commemorate the 12ish months that was 2008, I’ve put together some of my favourite music of the year onto one solitary audio CD (under 80 mins).

With 16000GB capacity MP3 players giving more music at fingertips than you’ll live long enough to listen to, I’m keeping it frugal (flick-snap the fingers) by forcing myself to choose only the tastiest selection that will fit on ONE solitary audio CD (80mins). MP3 CDs are cheating.

If you’re man enough to have a go at this then you certainly should. The idea is that people can view other people’s choices and discuss them and maybe discover more new wonderful music they otherwise wouldn’t.

Make sure all your music selections ARE actually from 2008 (just sort your WinAmp / Media Player / iTunes into ‘year’ then 2008).

The total running length should be 80mins or under, because if not, you’re a rule breaker and you stink.
And only one entry per artist please, but if someone is involved in two different groups / side solo stuff, then that’s all gravy.

My 2008 Compilation CD (under 80 mins)

1. M83 – You, Appearing | listen here
2. Crystal Castles – Crimewave | listen here
3. Black Francis – The Seus | listen here
4. Why? – The Hollows | listen here
5. Magnetic Fields – Zombie Boy | listen here
6. Elbow – The Bones of You | listen here
7. The Walkmen – On The Water | listen here
8. Cut Copy – Out There on the Ice | listen here
9. Sigur Ros – Gobbledigook | listen here
10. Beck – Chemtrails | listen here
11. Fleet Foxes – Tiger Mountain Peasant Song | listen here
12. Shearwater – Home Life | listen here
13. Department of Eagles – Around the Bay | listen here
14. Xiu Xiu – F.T.W. | listen here
15. Vampire Weekend – One (Blake’s Got a New Face) | listen here
16. Wild Beasts – Devil’s Crayon | listen here
17. Women – Black Rice | listen here
18. TV on the Radio – DLZ | listen here
19. Portishead – Machine Gun | listen here

What music have you been listening to in 2008? What’s your favourite song? Favourite album? Top 5 songs? What’s on your 2008 CD? Have your say below…

It’s depressing describing the sound of band in the digital age, as by the time you’ve thought of something original or witty, or managed to draw some illustrative and elaborate comparison… the person you’re informing has already been on MySpace, YouTube or last.fm and judged them for themselves. Suffice it to say, they’re worth a million of The View, The Enemy or any other dreary, creatively deficient band Radio 1 or NME have been pedalling of late.

Their sound, if you haven’t heard by now, is most complimented by the fact there aren’t many obvious similarities. You can hear Johnny Marr in some of the jangling guitars, you can hear a whimsical playwright in the lyrics and you can hear a madman in the vocals. The singing – by frontman Hayden Thorpe – is what first grabs, and it fluctuates between fairytale falsetto and guttural screeching. They have song titles such as ‘Vigil for a Fuddy Duddy’ and lyrics such as ‘…take these chips with cheese as an offering of peace.’ They’re difficult not to love.

Originating from Kendal before moving to Leeds in 2005 (a decent live scene and cheapish housing, apparently) Wild Beasts released their excellent debut album Limbo, Panto in 2008 on indie behemoths Domino Records; and have been championed by such luminaries as Marc Riley, Pitchfork, and even The Guardian have shortlisted them for their Best Debut Album of the Year accolade.

Wild Beasts are sincerely one of the most exciting bands I’ve heard in a long time. And I struggle to think of any other recent British bands with both a bucket-load of originality as well as undeniable commercial appeal. The last band to pull this off, perhaps, is label mates Arctic Monkeys. Thankfully though, they sound nothing like.

But anyways, they’re truly great, their album is magic, and they’ll be touring again soon. So go and pour the splendour down your head holes and let me know what you think.

Check out Wild Beasts at: www.myspace.com/wildbeasts

Hello you. To commemorate the 12ish months that was 2007, I’ve put together some of my favourite music of that year. With 16000GB capacity MP3 players these days giving the ability to have more music at fingertips than you’ll live long enough to listen to, I’m keeping it frugal by forcing myself to choose only the tastiest selection that will fit on ONE solitary audio CD (80mins). MP3s CD are fucking cheating.

If you’re man enough to have a go at this… then why the fudge don’t you? We can discuss (praise / snigger) at each others’ choices and in many cases this could lead to marriage.

Make sure all your music selections IS actually from 2007 (just sort your WinAmp / Media Player / ITunes into ‘year’).

The total running length should be 80mins or under, because if not, you’re a rule breaker and you stink.

Only one entry per artist please, but if someone is involved in two different groups or songs, then that’s all gravy.

My 2007 Compilation CD (under 80mins)

1. Interpol – Pioneer To The Falls
2. Liars – Plaster Casts of Everything
3. Blonde Redhead – Publisher
4. Radiohead – Weird Fishes / Arpeggi
5. Beirut – In The Mausoleum
6. The Clientele – From Brighton Beach To Santa Monica
7. Deerfhoof – The Perfect Me
8. Grinderman – No Pussy Blues
9. Band Of Horses – Cigarettes, Wedding Bands
10. PJ Harvey – Grow Grow Grow
11. The National – Mistaken For Strangers
12. Patrick Wolf – Magpie
13. The Shins – Red Rabbits
14. Richard Hawley – Tonight The Streets Are Ours
15. Iron & Wine – Boy With A Coin
16. Panda Bear – I’m Not
17. Battles – Ddiamondd
18. Of Montreal – The Past Is A Grotesque Animal

If you’re good enough to do so, please post your 2007 CD listing below :D

Why do they bother? They thank the audience, they say goodnight and they walk off stage, knowing all too well that in less than 5 minutes they’ll be back on the stage doing the exact same thing. Do they really believe that modern audiences, as savvy as we are, can’t put 2 and 2 together and see that – even though the band have said goodnight, the house lights still haven’t come on? And, do they really think that having guitar techs run around the stage tuning the guitars not give away the fact that… the band might use them again?

After standing in a hot, sweaty venue for a couple of hours (depending on the price you paid for the ticket, but invariably it will be hot and sweaty), having beer spilled down your back and having your feet trodden into the ground… do the audience really have to go through the encore pantomime again? Oh wait… they’re leaving… maybe if we shout loud enough, and show them how much they mean to us in our pathetic little lives… MAYBE THEY’LL PLAY AGAIN! COME ON GUYS!! I MEAN, THEY MUST LIKE US, THEY MENTIONED OUR CITY WHEN THEY SAID ‘HELLO [insert town here]’. Pssh. Come on… they’ve already planned their set list. It doesn’t matter if the band like you or hate you. It doesn’t matter if the audience hate the band, they’ll still be back… and you’ll still cheer as if it was a surprise.

Isn’t it entertainment gospel that you should always leave the audience wanting more? It’s cheating slightly if you just walk off mid-set. How about, instead of the tired theatrics, you just play an amazing hour long set, packed with amazing energy and excitement, leaving out the songs that people probably won’t like, and then you just fuck off? Hmm?

Those familiar to with Sigur Rós’ previous albums will already understand the incredible emotional connection the music has with the listener, you can throw a plethora of superlatives at them and you’re still left trying to do them justice. Honestly, the only thing better than listening to their music, is watching them play it. (Note: you still have to listen.)

An odd silence hangs in the Philharmonic until Sigur Rós walk coolly on stage; they splash a few piano notes around the room, and then Jónsi Birgisson approaches the microphone. Out of his undernourished body comes the most heart-wrenching gorgeous collection of noises you could ever wish to hear. Fittingly, Sigur Rós employ veils to project luscious filmic landscapes, complementing the music and allowing the sound to be the centre of attention, rather than the band themselves.

Surely, if there is a heaven, Sigur Rós would be the in-house band, and ol’ J.C. would be down the front row, throwing the sandals of approval at them

It is impossible to think of a high point to the night (the ominous piano riff to Sæglópur comes close), even so; you come out feeling dizzy and utterly elated, like you’ve been slapped in the face by something wonderful. If this review seems excessively flattering, it isn’t nearly flattering enough. If there is any way you can get to see Sigur Rós live (sell your kidneys / children) I wholeheartedly suggest you do so.

The Beatles went from ‘clean-cut youngsters’ to bearded, acid-scorched hippies; Bowie became an alien, Madonna went from hairy-pop starlet, to S&M-endorsing nymphomaniac, and then cockney. Even Blur’s Damon Albarn became a 2-dimentional representation of himself, and then became a cartoon…

Alison Goldfrapp, originally a shadowy purveyor of soprano-seeped ambience as with debut album Felt Mountain, soon decided that hiding behind a poignant voice wasn’t nearly as appealing as becoming a full blown sleaze-pop glam diva. A risky move, but trading a critically acclaimed album in for a pair of stilettos seems to have paid off; Goldfrapp slapped on the make-up and hasn’t looked back since.

As a part of XFM’s Access All April, – which includes Embrace, The Charlatans, Elbow, The Go! Team and Feeder – Goldfrapp hit The Ritz. As do the support acts. Vib Gyor, like many 3rd billed acts, seem slightly misplaced. Despite the lead singer’s unfortunate beanie they produce chiming guitar crescendos which softly and frequently rise above the venue’s balconies and confusingly labelled lavatories.

Shortwave Set on the other hand, have taken Goldfrapp’s shape-shifting on board, they have kazoos, banjos, perverted-harmonicas and are somewhat like sitting on a suitcase full of Spaniels, just when you think you’ve got them sorted, their sound jumps out and runs around, barking, only through a megaphone. But Shortwave Set aren’t that interesting, their sound is confused and schizophrenic, and each song is like a new adventure into tedium.

If this was the dark ages, they’d burn Goldfrapp as a witch.

Goldfrapp appear in single file. First, there’s the archetypal gay man, sporting a brilliant white beret, a golf outfit with a tight sweater (he plays bass), a Siouxsie Sioux lookalike with strapped-on keyboard, a drummer, and then there’s the caveman, in a flowing grey robe, playing violin. Alison, dressed in simple navy jeans and black top, appears strangely understated until she opens her mouth and unleashes the ‘OooohoooohAAAAAAGHS’ of Utopia. Her voice, beneath the canopy of blonde locks and pouting lips, is Goldfrapp’s biggest weapon. Ominous green lights and smoke leak onto the stage, and she twists and turns her arms and fingers as if her haunting voice is breaking them; if this was the dark ages, she’d be burnt as a witch.

There are two wind machines located under Alison’s microphone to which she seems smitten, constantly crouching down to blow her hair in all directions. One of the highlights of the evening is the addition of Goldfrapp’s legendary dancers; their first incarnation is of wolf-beasts, the second; Visage-inspired dolls, the third; sparkly horse-heads and the final instalment looks something like that Blue-Man group, or more geekishly, like X-Men’s Mystique. The biggest crowd rousers of the evening come with their later singles; ‘Ooh La La’ as well as most songs from Black Cherry and Supernature, Alison’s voice ranging from operatic to a sexually-charged pant.

If this was rock music, and not sleazy electro-disco, it would all be a cliché. But in Goldfrapp’s world, they’re successfully bringing back spectacle to performance, and doing so with enough dexterity to avoid ridicule themselves in the process.

he is not, it seems, a happy chappy. But wait, what’s that? You already knew? Of course you did, but still, for those who weren’t entirely convinced, we have a nine-tracked collection of dark, unsettling electronica, malevolent synths, cryptic, hopeless and beautiful songs; otherwise known as The Easer.

You may also be aware that, somewhere between 1997 and 2000, Radiohead imploded; tired of touring, tired of media attention, tired of each other, tired of being labelled the ‘best band in the world’, the ‘head, (spearheaded mostly by Yorke), decided to pull up and make an announcement: “Would passengers hoping for another ‘Creep’, ‘High and Dry’, or ‘Just’ please exit the vehicle.” The Oxford boys then headed on blindly, with their usual un-ease, toward Kid A. The result was one that confounded as many as it compelled, an album that looms large in their legend, and possibly their finest achievement; it was dark, ambient, unsettling, cryptic and doom-laden, hopeless and beautiful – sound familiar?

Despite Radiohead’s exodus to darker territory, the people who got off at OK Computer were still waiting, albeit impatiently, for Radiohead to return and pick them up, all things forgiven. Except Radiohead, stubbornly yet correctly, refused to turn around. Driving on until 2006 where Messrs Yorke, Greenwood, Greenwood, Selway and O’Brien, working hard on their 7th album, now argue over who gets to drive. With The Eraser (Thom’s album, that: ‘couldn’t have been done without the support and belief of Radiohead’) seems to let everyone know who steered Radiohead to Autechre-ville in the first place.

Those hoping for a glimpse of Radiohead’s 7th album will be disappointed, but for others, Thom Yorke’s scratchy, electro nuance frequently produces brilliance

No surprises, then, that The Eraser sounds exactly like you’d think it would, it will again enrage some and elate others. It seems that Thom, gifted with the knack for downbeat melody and a voice that could make even the most stoic weep like a baby, too often locks his songs beneath a barrage of delirious bleeps, ticks and blips; where Kid A sounded majestic and atmospheric with its electronics, The Eraser often sounds small and insignificant. Album closer Cymbal Rush sees Yorke building steadily into a crescendo, but then suffocates himself in a bubble-wrapped laptop gurgle. As with most post-Bends Radiohead, repeat listenings reward greatly; the tight, folded songs seem to unravel themselves with each listen, revealing depths, anger and to-the-point-ness that had been lacking. When Thom drops the masquerading and gives the simple home-truths, it’s stand to attention arm-hair time; album highlights: Black Swan: “This is fucked up… fucked up.”, The Easer; “I never gave you any encouragement… and it’s doing me in.” and Harrowdown Hill; “We think the same things at the same time, we just can’t do anything about it.” – Thom displays more emotion in those lines than a million electronic drum loops ever could.

Where there are hits with The Easer, Atoms for Peace is another gem, there are also misses, Skip Divided being the biggest; Thom almost rapping the lines: “Like a dog, like a dog, like a lapdog, I’m your lapdog, yeah.” – doesn’t exactly ring true. The previously mentioned Harrowdown Hill is The Eraser’s most pertinent moment, named after the stretch of woods where the body of Dr. David Kelly, the Iraq WMD Inspector, was found following his suicide. Yorke, surrounded with paranoid electronic bleeping and mournful synths, haunts: “Did I fall, or was I pushed? Where’s the blood? In the Harrowdown Hill, that’s where I am…lying down.”

Those hoping for a Thom Yorke solo album (that according to Thom, isn’t) to exhibit some of his more stand alone-ish / dazzling live efforts (Like Spinning Plates or True Love Waits) or those hoping to be given an indication of where Radiohead’s pending 7th album would sound like… may be disappointed. But for those willing to free themselves of the parable that surrounds Yorke, then The Eraser may just be a melancholy slice of electro-glitched genius.

Josh Davis (that’s his real name, see) had something of an epiphany. Shocked by a near-death experience involving a London taxi journey, and the news of potentially life-threatening complications during his wife’s pregnancy of his two (as then unborn) twin-daughters, the Sampler / Turntablist / Navel Gazer decided things would have to change. And nothing brings out the hard-core rap fan like death-experiences, as they say.

Shortly after, DJ Shadow’s third album, The Outsider, was born, and is a literal reminder of his indifference to expectation, or as he puts it tonight, complete with his Americanised white-b-boy gesticulating: “The rap crew always ask; why do you put that soft shit on your rekid, and the indie boys always ask; why do you put that rap shit on your rekid?” Pronunciation aside, not since Sir Bobert of Dylan has an artist split his audiences so absolutely. To explain…

Bob Dylan (or Robert Zimmerman, that’s his real name, see) – everyone’s favourite folk-messiah, performed each one of his gigs drug-addled belly of the 1960s to equal parts boos and exuberant coos. For with Highway ’61 Revisited, Bob had done the unthunkable, he’d put down his trusty acoustic and decided (*gasp*) to use an electric guitar. ‘Traitor!’ ‘Judas!’ ‘Bastard!’ seemed to be the ad hominem. 50 years on, music has changed somewhat. With The Outsider, everyone’s favourite tip-hop-messiah DJ Shadow decided *gasp* to stop sampling and hire a crew of hard-hitting ‘Hyphy’ rappers (it’s all the rage in California’s Bay Area, apparently). Judas! Traitor! Whatthehellisthis?! shouted DJ Shadow’s usual clique of mild mannered musos / stoners.

Despite splitting audiences with the ‘hyphy rap’ section of new album The Outsider, DJ Shadow proves he not only has balls, but mad skillz.

Looking around this evening, his partisans seem a little confounded with both the music and each other. We have the long-faced music braggarts rubbing shoulders with chain-smoking American Football fans (or are they? hmm). Perhaps DJ Shadow can claim to be the only contemporary artist who can attract audiences of such opposing jean-bagginess. Josh Davis mulls over his crowd and his new musical direction, again: “It’s all me!” he concludes.

There’s an interesting if not always enjoyable resemblance to the football crowd mentality for spells of the evening; one section cheers at one song (others boo), and then the roles are reversed for another. Interesting to both, however, is watching the juxtaposition between man / machine / music and visuals. Josh Davis (and his visual team) demonstrate just how far ahead electronic music has gotten from standard rock ‘n’ roll in terms of the live ‘spectacle’. There are only a number of times one can see a band jump at choruses and hunch at the verses before it becomes pantomime. While few things will ever be cooler than a wailing guitar solo, DJ Shadow comes close with this constant nob-twisting, head-bobbing and button pushing, all dwarfed under a huge acid-trip screen.

Stateless’ Chris James has made the effort to come out an sing a few ditties for us tonight, which is handy as his haunting collaborations with DJ Shadow have been, for some, the standout tracks from The Outsider, an album that tackles folk; indie; psychedelica, electronica, motown as well as the aforementioned rap departure. Chris James singing the addictive Erase You and the uplifting You Made It, awash with blood red lights and a kind of squat-dancing makes him look rather mesmerizing.

Lateef The Truth Speaker also makes the transition from album collaborator to live performer, standing in for Q-Tip on the impressive Enuff as well as on The Private Press track Mashin’ On The Motorway. What’s most imposing though, is not DJ Shadow’s false modesty with the recurrent chants of ‘Shaaaadow’ ‘Shaaaaadow’ (just take the compliment, man!) its his solo trickery. He finishes with a fuzzed splice of some of his early Endtroducing… classics as well as the monolithic U.N.K.L.E / Thom Yorke collaboration Rabbit In Your Headlights.

The critical and commercial reaction to The Outsider has proved to be something of a test of faith for his long term fans, but the upside is this; even in making music that is alien to most of his fanbase, he’s still managing to connect them through, his admirable love and respect for all music, regardless of race or communal boundaries. A risky move, but it proves the boy not only got balls, but also a large dollop of mad skillz. He did start his set too early though. Bastard.