At some arbitrary point, I regret everything I say Between a dull mind and a loose tongue Lie the tricks of memory So I’m thankful for your forgetfulness Thankful for each new day Very Good are an 8-piece collective from Brooklyn led by Sean Cronin. Stylistically, they're hard to pin down (think minimalist post-folk,... Continue Reading →
The first half of June in Leeds has been dominated by wet socks, blue lips and grumpy faces, shiny streets reflecting the low and heavy clouds in pond-sized puddles. Calm oceans that look like magnified rain drops, melting together to a torrent of tristesse. Gloomy creatures pulling their hoods up hastily while eschewing their obstacles.... Continue Reading →
Two minutes in and the basement spins, the crowd slewing from back to front, people running like a river from the sides to the centre. We are happily trapped within the seething mass of movement, drawn in by the measured chaos unfolding on stage. There are gloriously screamed waves of sound. There is an eternity... Continue Reading →
The second encounter between crowd and band was the perfect shift of scenery and led the Quiff into an obscure, subterranean world, crowded with arty students and middle-aged nostalgists. Their shared thrill of anticipation appeased by Hotel Lux’ raucous, perfectly poised appearance – working class undercuts met navy coats, a German football tricot and a... Continue Reading →
It's Hubby's birthday today and the Quiff just wants to say thanks for the incredible music. Here's one that requires no words.
The glass roof pulls away Shedding the years of accumulated grime and dust To let in the glorious downpour of afternoon sunshine The band pull us back in with nonchalant discord, with unforeseen yelps And we undock, floating away from the grey, grey earth Skewed Quiff saw Bull at the The Dry Dock Leeds for their Live at Leeds side... Continue Reading →
If love is a flame Then hope is its oxygen Too little and it wanes Too much and there's explosion https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPCbboUGFtg Loyle Carner's new record Not Waving, But Drowning is a meditation on growing up, on falling in love, on trying to hold on when the world moves too fast.
The wind lashes at my face The taste of saltwater lingering on my lips A distant piano sways with malevolent, melodious turbulence And the voices whisper so low I can barely catch them I’m the captain of my ship I’ve created a monster Captain by Fog Lake has arrived in the Quiff cave on delicious... Continue Reading →
The world creaks and aches like an old boat An ancient mariner drunk on seawater and solitude Strides across the bending and bowing tables Dances from sliding stools to slipping chairs Holding his guitar hypnotically high He binds us in his beauteous, melodious imaginings Set sail and travel to one of the most magical places... Continue Reading →