Wednesday 20 January 2010

xx

Right, I haven't exactly developed blisters on my fingertips, and yet I have to leave you, albeit temporarily, dear reader. I travel tomorrow to Palo Alto, circumventing San Fran as best I can, for I see there's a drug resistant strain of HIV sifting around (of all places...what's Pat Robertson going to say?), in order to face the menace, the scum, the enemy under whome we unite, Stanford. We only just scraped them from the deck and now they want revenge in their home pool. We'll endeavor as always, if you'll pardon the expression, to fuck 'em. News to follow.

In the meantime, I shall leave you in the very capable hands of The XX. I know some of you switch off when I talk about music but this is less specialised. Hailing from southwest London, The XX released their debut album under the same name about seven months ago to what seems like universal acclaim. Indeed, it appears they're impossible to dislike. (As an aside, for a word on the development of the word "like", see Christopher Hitchens here.) Just as The Guardian noted when they awarded their coveted Album of the Year award to the band, what you most admire is their restraint. I quite like the chap's voice, displaying a maturity beyond his years, and developing the record's sense of intimacy. May I go so far as to recommend it for a late night frisson with a certain someone (not that I've tried it myself)? Either that, or let it wash over you, surround you as you sit alone waiting for the night bus in an empty shelter. Hit this link and knock yourself out. But first, here they are:

2 comments:

Unknown said...

They're actually really good aren't they, hadn't really taken the time to check em out til now.

Robert Iddiols said...

They're onto something. The album has something about it - a sensual, whispered quality that reminds me of things like Fog and Hunting Bears. The album is definitely worth checking out in full. Laters xxx