For the last couple of weeks we have been in a lingering state of freaking out every couple of hours or so – medical professionals refer to this as a panic attack – and we’ve only today figured out that this was even the case in the first place. Denial can, in fact, be a powerful thing, both in the positive and negative sense. In regards to the former, for example, saying no to your 50th or 6oth consecutive night out in karmic exchange for (a) getting some rest and (b) not drinking (or socialising or whatever). In regards to the latter, by way of another example, not dealing and/or delegating an ever-growing mountain of workload that has land-slid upon you like the sneaky fucking mountain that it is over the last few months in the hopes that it will magic itself away is a surefire way to panic even the calmest of the Hindu cows. We have discovered the solution to the latter. It is called the phone. What this means is rather than typing out things to intended recipients for fucking ages – which is an accolade we’re becoming rather renowned for, according to the Pearse Grady’s of this world – you get this thing called a phone, put numbers into it, and then have an actual conversation with someone rather than having to deal with the lengthy back-and-forth whereby other shit gets in the way. Get behind this phone thing guys. Its like the new social network. We love it, and look forward to perpetuating this new golden era of trying to keep things simple. Look at this new guy (if indeed it is a guy) SAINT for example. He’s keeping it simple. You don’t see him fucking around with suffixes like Savoir. Or Raymond. Or Vincent. Nah. He’s just SAINT. Deal with it. SAINT arriveth atop a musical steed called Oy, which we have found ourselves hearing a lot recently due to our rekindled obsession with The OC given the assorted Hebrew references made therein, and also found ourselves shouting at people for things they have or have not done (we like to be satisfied you see). Oy is, quite frankly, a beautiful song and of course we’re not the only people in the world that think so. As to our boy SAINT – obviously the purveyor of such delicate sonics with the heart-breaking intricacies of say Keaton Henson, previous Track Of The Day’er Scout (fka Boy Scout. Maybe he doesn’t want to be a boy any more, which is his choice), Jack Garratt‘s I Couldn’t Want You Anyway, as well as a Draper track that we’re sadly not allowed to talk about just yet – we know bugger all about him. Literally nothing. We prefer it that way. Because we’re keeping things simple, aren’t we?


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