Scrapbook

“Imagine huge hole, a cave probably, the kind of thing that might feature in an action sequence in The Lord of The Rings, the kind of thing a Balrog might fall through. Imagine yourself falling through that space. That space isn’t made of rock or air or sharp formations or of stench and horror but of break-ups and hate and long walks through winter rain and of time spent thumbing through your contact list and realising - as much as you want to talk to someone - that you have nothing new to say to anyone and probably never will. Are you there? Good, so you’ve been dumped once then. Well done you. New year, a bit of money in pocket, a trip to Rough Trade/Avalanche/Ameoba/Tiger/wherever the locals go to get those beautiful vinyl records, you pick up music by a band flying in that exact same cave. Except they’re going up. Behind them is a jetstream made of shouting and hate. This is a brilliant thing. Titus Andronicus’ album sounds like it was recorded in a dustbin, the lyrics are barely within comprehension, and yet it’s so clearly urgent, so compelling, that it acts like rocket fuel. It’s ace. I put the momentum of 2009 down to the first new sounds reaching my ear being ‘Fear and Loathing in Mahwah, NJ’: A brief spell of mourning and wallowing before an almighty scream of “FUCK YOU” and an explosion consisting of all the pace in world. Anyone put off by that kind of opening can keep on falling. I will not miss them.”