Never take a gift you actually want and shove it back in the face of the giver. That’s rude. Instead, take it and enjoy it. Say thank you and be on with your day. The only exception to this rule is if the aforementioned gift comes with a bunch of attached strings including sex with an old fogey or smuggling drugs across state borders. It’s fine if its between boroughs, but state lines are off limits.
Sometimes a music site will go in for ages about acts that are forgettable and fairly unlistenable but when they get it right, they get it WAY right. Case in point: Popjustice is known for endorsing pure shite but then they strike gold and all is forgiven. Pitchfork is in the same boat. However, all that have give London Grammar any chatter have been justified and it is about time that they get even more.
London Grammar, an English Indie Pop trio, is like listening to one fuck all amazing jam session with The xx, Annie Lennox and Florence Welch. Its music seeps into your bones and weighs you down. The vocals replicates that feeling when you try to pick up spilled push pins and prick yourself: temporarily painful but a sudden, albeit annoying, reminder that you’re alive. At the end of each song, you want to replay it but know another 4 minute package of brilliance awaits you immediately following a brief silence.
If you’re in a good mood, you probably should stay away from London Grammar. These aren’t the types of gifts to leave you smiling. These are the gifts you open up when you need a moment of wallowing and we all need those moments from time to time. I personally need one of these moments at least once every three days and previously used TV shows like Grey’s Anatomy and Intervention to help me expunge those emotions but have since switched to this medium.
Don’t hate.
