12 Revolutions of 2017: moonweather – sit down, be small

Imagine taking a few months off in order to spend some quality time doing whatever you are passionate about. This is exactly how moonweather approached the making of their first record sit down be small: During the summer months last year, Colin, Bobby and Billy came together with local musicians and created something that has... Continue Reading →


12 Revolutions from 2017: Dan Auerbach – Waiting On A Song

We ease past the spluttering procession of trucks and Sunday drivers, wheels sliding across the smooth tarmac, the road stretching lazily in front of us as it undulates its way to the distant horizon. The world feels endless but narrowly defined, the vast tracts of tall pines on either side holding us in place, keeping... Continue Reading →

12 Revolutions from 2017: Jen Cloher – Jen Cloher

It’s difficult to talk about the Jen Cloher record without mentioning Courtney Barnett. Jen’s wife is woven through its fabric of confusion, contemplation, anger and hope. Yet, this is a natural by-product of Jen’s candid approach to song-writing rather than any attempt to replicate Courtney’s successful template. It’s a record of shifting moods, musically and... Continue Reading →

Enter, Joy Room

The crowd sparks and fires, rising as one to the beat. The people at the periphery wheel away with childish exuberance before lunging back towards the centre, so that it looks synchronised, pre-ordained almost, like a firework going off. Up on stage, Ned is slouched low over his kit, the machine-gun fire of drumsticks eventually... Continue Reading →

Introducing The Family Chain

We’ve all seen bands where the band are too cool to say anything, or too cool to give a shit about anything, and I hate that. I just want to be a band that shows that we fucking want to do this. It’s Friday evening and the street heaves and sways with anticipation. Loosely formed... Continue Reading →

An evening with Spy From Moscow

“So if that’s Ireland”, his fingers trace the shape of the glass, “and there’s Dublin, and there’s Belfast, then I’m from just here, in the North, but on the border.” Declan Feenan, better known as Spy From Moscow, leans across the table and gathers the half-full pint in his hand, his smile already on the... Continue Reading →

Down The Rabbit Hole, Part 1

The weekend is a broken ornament, a beautiful twisted relic lying fractured on the floor, glistening in the early summer sun. I stagger as I lean down to pick through the myriad pieces - the rabbit hole; the headphone dancers; the Strang man; the sunken wreck; the land time forgot; the synthetic dream; the funfair; and the rolling stone –... Continue Reading →

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