Bucket Playlist Update— Andy Close -
We have a playlist. It updates every month. It’s done mainly by Andy so we ask him every month to write an article about the playlist. For once he’s done what he’s fucking told:
I’m still smarting from the dressing down I received last month for straying off brief, so have tailored this introduction to align more closely with the Editor’s vision. The tyrannical little shit.
For your delight, five vivid word paintings which will leave you with a perfect impression of tempo, melody and genre without you having to click on the Spotify link. Bit like the opposite of audio description. You could just listen to the playlist but that’d be too fucking easy and who wants to ruin the party the two regular listeners are having, bless them.
This one turned up in a previous month, but I feel it got swallowed up so I’m putting it in again. Imagine heating the last thirty years of dance and pop music in a crucible until all the nonsense evaporates and your left with a viscous black substance that sounds like the Talking Heads re-mixed by Andrew Weatherall. Single of the year so far.
The producer tapes a sub-woofer to a child’s jewellery box and flips the lid. Meanwhile the rhymes pile up like parcels on an exhausted Amazon employee’s conveyor.
Fey cowboy frees his herd and, struggling with the sudden and all-consuming solitude, laments bitterly. He puts out his campfire with a shower of Swarovski tears.
Grace harvests organic pop genius and re-pots it over a beat that skitters like my Grandad’s pacemaker used to when his rheumy old eyes drank in that day’s page three. Dirty old man.
You’ve just put on that jolly new Vampire Weekend single and you’re heading to the garden to watch your bonnie, bright eyed children bounce on that trampoline you bought them last week. Your heart is warm and full and your children’s excited shouts dance through the air to greet you as you step through the back door. But something’s wrong, the children have fallen silent.
JESUS CHRIST, THE SKY IS ON FIRE! ASH SWIRLS IN THE AIR AND THE LAWN IS LITTERED WITH DEAD BIRDS! THE FRUIT ON THE APPLE TREE HAS TURNED BLACK AND PULSES LIKE TINY, DISEASED HEARTS AND THE KNOT ON THE TRUNK IS NOW A LEERING, DEMONIC FACE DOING A GREGORIAN CHANT! WORST OF ALL YOUR CHILDREN ARE GONE - REPLACED BY A WITCH! Still bouncing admittedly, BUT A FUCKING WITCH!!!!!
And as you stagger back into your front room, you realise that Spotify is now playing this song and will NEVER play anything else.