HEY YA HEARD ABOUT THE FOOTBALL, IS REALLY REAL GOOD MANG. Or something. Hey, we like football. We used to hang out with a lot of football dudes at university a million years ago. They knew how much we knew about football. They knew that we knew the rules; the underlying concept; the glory days of the player-manager, where Vialli and Ruud Gullit were masters of finesse both on and off pitch (sort of). They also knew that, in every boy’s ascension to ultimate manhood, a kid’s gotta make a choice. And that choice is between whether you become fully invested in football, or music. We didn’t think it was possible to have near-encyclopaedic knowledge of both. Well, turns out it fucking is, upon the realisation that several years ago that – coinciding with the rise of the music industry football 5-a-side tournaments that Big Scary Monsters would put on (still haven’t had an invite), or that thing that Matt Hughes would pretty much emotionally blackmail all his Mile End buddies into at Victoria Park (literally everyone tried to bail, without fail, on the morning of the game itself. For it was a Saturday. And as everybody knows, Saturdays in the post-student lifestyle are for sleeping) – we are surrounded by a music industry largely populated by men who know about this shit. Like all the names of all the players in all of the transfer thingies ever. They’re all sweating facts and shitting stats. But don’t you worry. We’re getting involved. Actually we’re throwing a whole party about it with our family at Turn First Artists and our may-as-well-be-family at Live Nation, where we will make merry and sing the chanty bits and stuff. It’ll be great. As you can imagine, we’re still a little hyper at the moment. It’s all these sugary drinks you see. Rumour has it that we’re rarely seen without a bottle of Lucozade in our busy hands these days. So, somewhat uncharacteristically, we need something to take the mood down a notch, lest we joygasm all up in this shit. Enter the suitably down-beat and mournful guitar music of Copenhagen crew Shiny Darkly. A guy called Bjorn emailed us about em the other night. We have verified with our resident Scot that Bjorn is also an additional Scottish man, which makes us happy. Do Shiny Darkly make us happy though? In a way, yes. There’s elements of the scuzzed-out lo-fi that seem to dominate our ostensible residential area back in the aforementioned day of football re-indoctrination. Shoreditch, basically. It’s like a nice supplement to the whole nostalgia thing we’re dealing with right now. Other than that, to coin some horrible management-speak, this has some rather lengthy proverbial “legs”. We imagine legs similar to those that Joy Division, The Fall (fronted by Joe Strummer, says Ben) and perhaps Arcade Fire are known or have been known to don. Which is nice.