How about this SUNNSSSSSHHHEEEEEEEIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNUH London? Hot innit. Hotty burney sweaty weather. We should know; we’ve elaborated on our own personalised bronzed-god status in terms of our preferred skin pigmentation by managing to sit in a park for several hours yesterday, in the company of Draper, our special ladyfriend, Label Assistant Matt and his special ladyfriend Alex (the latter of whom we learned Matt hadn’t invited to Reading Festival yet. He claims he didn’t know. But he fucking knew. He knows a lot of stuff this guy). That’s a hell of a team, we’re sure you’ll agree. Indeed, it was our first time to Citadel Festival, which generally resembled Field Day to a large extent – mainly given that it is also situated in precisely the same place Victoria Park – but clearly with a lot of Live Nation money pumped into its metaphorical gas tank. With the addage of Communion being de facto promoter (we think. We’re not sure of anything anymore post-Brexit, as you all should know by now), we also took great delight in situating ourselves with our kind of crowd. The ones that aren’t fucking pogo-sticking all over the shop being all MDMAzing, and on top of that will respect personal space during highlighted live performances by those befitting our lah-de-dah constitution without bringing their sweaty man-flesh (although there was a god-awful amount of man-flesh on display) into our situation. We’re the sort of people that actively enjoy laying flat on the perimeter of a bright pink canopy, with someone literally reading The Observer aloud on a reasonably-leveled PA. Funnily enough, that’s exactly what happened yesterday, other than Caribou and Sigur Ros of course. Anyway, the point is we got some rest, and right now feels like our week is off to the best possibly start in contrast to the rather dim view on shit that we perhaps succumbed to a bit too much last week. Let’s see if new Track Of The Day person Woodes can do the same for us in terms of her latest musical offering The Thaw, which perhaps helps describe our more positive outlook today title-wise. Yep. Yep she can. Woodes is the chosen monicker for 23 year-young Elle Graham, who lives in a city called Melbourne, in a land called Australia, on a planet called Earth. We guess she likes forests and the like, the landscapes of which liter the plethora of social media outlets we currently have open. She also likes to produce ambitious ethereal electronic music and layer her voice over the top which feels as sassy as it does delicate. Think of a profound concoction involving elements of Laurel, Jessie Ware and previous KM compilationee BRY (who we now understand goes by the name Parker, so there you go). Look like our hero Elle has been going for a little bit having released another single and a collaborative EP in the past 12 months or so, which gives us the firm indication that there is indeed a lot more where this came from.