The theme of today is things that explode in your face. No, not in that way, you filthy-minded plank. Metaphorically-speaking. We seemed to have lucked out for the last 3-4 months, particularly in Jaunary 2013, in terms of our made-up-and-now-suddenly-legitimised profession. While this is all well and good – and hands on our unbreakable hearts we’re still in a state of disbelief as to how well-received these artists we now find ourselves working with in some capacity are, as well as how these people have even heard of our crappy brand – it does come with a price of its own. Similar is the case of a few people around us. While we may be perceived to be showboaty and arrogant these days (to be fair, we’ve never got this far before), it is usually done in jest and a pinch of irony. We can’t escape a feeling that we’re somehow making those few people feel less of themselves (yeah, guess we are pretty arrogant then) and it’s not a great feeling. Anyway, this calls for some think-about-life shit right about now, and on that note, here’s new-ish bloke Bipolar Sunshine. We know very little about Mr. Sunshine, other than he is a man. A man with feelings. The only other information that we have available, given that we only became aware of this dude about 15 minutes ago, is that there was quite the industry scrum over this guy, which is just super because it is always nice to feel wanted. Listening to Fire for those 15 minutes on repeat is a little bit like attaching a rusty-yet-substantial tugboat to the invisible strings attached to one’s heart and revving that bitch into maximum overdrive. Take the bittersweet, agonising lyricism of the likes of Jamie T, Tim Armstrong (of Rancid fame) and mix it in with some guitar stylings that run the same course of the sad bits King Blues with some Oberhofer undertones, and just feel your soul melt away like little pieces of wet cake. Jeah.