Personal Highlights of 2017 (aka more musical ones…)

You’re probably sick to death of these ‘Highlights’ blogs, but I love making lists and reminiscing…so get on board, or get over it.

I spend 99% of my time listening to, looking for, and writing lovely things about women in new music, but – contrary to popular belief – I love writing about men in new music too. WHAT?! A FEMINIST WHO LOVES MEN?! SHOCKING! *keels over from this unexpected revelation*

2017 was a turbulent and frightening year (and I’m not just talking about my Glandular Fever diagnosis), but it would’ve been far worse if I hadn’t discovered these bands/artists. So, if you want a quick distraction before you wave goodbye to 2017 soaked in gin and your own bitter tears, take a look at the musical offerings that made my 2017 so bleedin’ good…

Everything Twitcher Records released this year melted my mind.

The independent label based in Brighton has a penchant for all things strung-out and unsatisfied, and I smiled like the Grinch who stole Christmas each time an email holding precious musical cargo appeared at the top of my inbox.

If you’re in to scratchy guitars, delightfully droning vocals, and introspective lyrics, you need to check out the bands on their roster. It was hard for me to pick a favourite, but I listened to Collapse Of An Easy Sunday, the debut EP from the weird and wonderful Honey Creeper multiple times when I was hungover/bored at work. Check out Ezeikel Doo, Slabtoe., and Die Mauer too.

Wolf Alice’s ‘Yuk Foo’ was one of the first pieces of new music I heard after my 21-day-Glandular-Fever headache finally subsided.

I’ll never forget the sheer sense of simultaneous joy and relief I felt hearing Ellie Rowsell shout the words “you bore me to death!” the first time I heard this song. It’s since become a personal anthem.

Don’t think I’ve mentioned a band called Ho99o9 before? (LOL JK. seen them 5 times this year)

My anticipation for their album United States of Horror was palpable, and it sparked what most people would deem a borderline inappropriate obsession with the rap-punk duo. Their political, aggressive, racially charged lyrics align perfectly with the manic drums and thrashing guitar samples.

Each time I’ve seen them live I’ve emerged with all sorts of physical damage – a black eye, swollen knees, bruised hips, ripped fingernails – and I left their Sebright Arms gig topless. What can I say? They bring out the be(a)st in me.

(Ho99o9 also led me to find Bob Vylan, who is 10/10)

I listened to Bjork’s divine new album Utopia, thus keeping my 2016 New Years Resolution to “listen to more Bjork“.

NO, YOU’RE CRYING AT THE BEAUTY OF ‘The Gate’. PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER. FFS.

We launched the Get In Her Ears website alongside our radio show and live night, and it might just be the best thing we’ve ever done.

On the eve of the launch of the Get In Her Ears site, there was a part of me that felt genuinely concerned. What if people didn’t read the blog? What if no-one shared the link? Have we made a mistake branching out on our own? Fortunately, I’m glad to report all of these anxieties subsided within 24 hours. We’ve received so much interest, love, and support from bands and fellow journalists, that it’s wiped away all the doubts I ever had.

I hope 2018 is just as prosperous and proactive for us.

Advertisements

SUNDAY #91 – Dreams

Yesterday, I got dolled up and spent the afternoon with the ultra cool Dream Wife girls at their fake prom video shoot. Today, I scrubbed away the mould growing in the grout between the bathroom tiles and didn’t put any make-up on.What an eclectic weekend.

I replied to their call out on Facebook for people to get involved in their shoot for upcoming track ‘Let’s Make Out’, and before I knew it, I was in Dalston, slightly pissed at 2pm on a Saturday afternoon, wearing a dress I wish I’d worn to my real school prom back in 2006.

Walking in to the venue was surreal; the Dream Wife girls greeted me in costume with flame eye make-up, and there were balloons and streamers all over the place. I took a seat and watched a group of very trendy young things dancing around and making out with each other, and it felt like the coolest hallucination.

I didn’t have a make out partner (much like at my real Prom lolz), but I had a sparkly dress and a few sparkling glasses of Prosecco, so I was 100% loving life on the sidelines. Sod going back to reality.

SUNDAY #81 – DO IT

I’m searching my brain cells for something witty to start this post with, but you’ll have to make do with this pointless sentence because my Mum’s just cooked a cracking veggie lasagne and there’s no way I’m letting that bad boy go cold.

This is just a quick post to gloat about the success of the first ever Gigslutz / Get In Her Ears night at The Finsbury Pub that took place on Friday night. Mari organised four brilliant bands to play for us (Petty Phase, Tokyo Taboo, Young Romance & The Empty Page) and when my Spotify playlist went to hell (never underestimate the importance of a good Wi-Fi connection) Tash stepped in and saved the DJing day. I spent most of the night looking around in blissful disbelief, overwhelmed by how well everything had turned out.

In 2015, I tweeted Gigslutz asking if they were looking for a writer to cover The Great Escape Festival. Just over a year later, I’m part of the incredible Editorial team, and I’m helping to organise radio shows and live events. I could never have predicted how much Gigslutz would enrich my life. Not only have I heard so much brilliant and fascinating music, I’ve met some of the kindest, funniest, most motivated people who make the idea of replying to 100+ emails every week (alongside my day job) a total joy.

When it comes to chasing something you love, don’t give up on it or let it slip away from you. Hunt that elusive, bastard dream down and do what you have to do to make it work for you. Do it. DO. IT. DO. IT. Okay? Because you might end up getting everything you asked for, and you might write sentimental drivel like this in the hope that it might help someone else out.

Keep bloody chasing it. I double dare ya…