“Shelter Song”

We’ve been reliably informed that we waffle way too much on this here blog. That we write how we speak. We’re sorry. We don’t know how to write properly, is the christgod’s honest truth, and as a matter of consequence we clearly don’t know how to speak concisely enough. We’re under-learned. See, we spent all our time at school learning about science-stuff (not so smart now are ya? You Higgs-Boson aloof sons of bitches) and a discernable (i.e. not all, but some substantial) amount of time at University learning about the law. The RULES. Anyway, we we’re doing it again. Waffling we mean. Instead of waffle, here’s a breakdown of what today involved:

Eye Emma Jedi shit. And by shit, we mean good shit.

– The biggest meeting of our lives.

– Sitting down with a cool bunch of guys who happen to be a cool band and drinking Guinness whilst simultaneously debating the nice and not-so-nice bits about the ostensible music industry in tandem with mirco-breweries (that’s not waffle. It’s a FACT).

– Seeing our best mate from school who is back from Ethiopia and shooting the shit when really we should have been working in light of the sheer amount of additional work that we’ve somehow created for ourselves. Welcome home, Maximus.

– The big Music Robot announcement. We’ll explain more about this when (a) we’re not quite so shattered, (b) we can figure out how to resize a decent screenshot of the bugger that is equally as flattering to us as it is unto our new bloggy bretheren, and (c) we’ve learned to write properly.

– O2 playing silly buggers and not allowing us to make phone calls and thus relegating our iPhone to an iPod. In their defence, we’ve had the best 3G access today than any other point since records began. So we can tweet or email you. But a phone call is quite out of the question.

So there it is. Manic. Crazy shit. Good thing that new kids on the block Temples seem to miraculously soundtrack what has been a mind-warping day with equally mind-warping music. Self-proclaimed as both psychadelic and also a duo, we have no doubts about the former description yet plenty about the latter – for this, ladies and gentledudes, sounds much bigger than two space-rockers simply having a “ride”. But hey, that’s just what we thunk. Temples, if we’re getting serious for a spell, to us sound like what Miles Kane would were he really left to his own devices – perhaps teaming up with our favourite American space-riders Chappo and having a real good time at it too. This might just be the summer soundtrack that we’ve been waiting for, and at the very least provides a vitalic injection of energy into British indie music that is both innovative and refreshing at the same instance. Have a goosey.




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