Meursault’s fourth album might actually be haunted, and I don’t just mean by that spotty bed-sheet on the cover. Or maybe it’s something to do with my continuing to listen to it whilst walking past The Meadows, often around 2am. Either way, it feels like there’s a definite ghost story at its heart.Read More
Prize for the best audience member at last night’s Celtic Connections gig goes to the fellow with the not-so-surreptitious flask who couldn’t help but give out with a thoroughly supportive ‘fuck off, mate!’ at the end of Tissø Lake’s set. When the praise is so violent it sounds like a threat, at least you know it’s genuine.Read More
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