The Danger Is are from Dublin. They sound a bit like the entire city knocking on your door at the same time, clamoring around at nine in the morning, wondering why you're not up, today of all days, when you're finally putting the finishing touches to whatever it is you've been at all these years. They have that kind of excitement to them, a pushing urgency, something to say that doesn't come out in words. Going by this song, they are very good.
The creator of one of the finest records of the year is back with a two-song vinyl, and it's a real stunner. The above track, 'Red Dust', seems to mark a break from the wilderness-bound landscapes of Early In The Morning, with a dim backing beat that sounds like the moon's heartbeat. All the notes seem to hang in the air, drifting to the ground in slow motion, until, with two minutes left, the sun seems to come up and show this half-lit world anew. It might well be the best thing he's done yet.
One of my favourite Irish bands have returned, and boy howdy was it worth the wait. The Gorgeous Colours specialise in upbeat pop that relies on doing old things so well that they sound new. They sing harmonies good enough and warm enough to put the sun in the winter sky, and their songs are full of the kind of happiness and sincerity that most bands don't dare attempt.
The above video is for their new single, the title track from their new EP, one of my favourite songs of the year, and while it perfectly exemplifies the cheeriness at which the band excel, it shows the darker side of their new material, the sadness that you can occasionally hear in a lingering word, or tense guitar arpeggio. It's beautiful, but slightly appalling at the same time. You'll see.
I've been terribly busy with my Real Life lately, so I didn't get a chance to mention that the band had organised a pledge system to fund their new EP, and didn't get a chance to contribute myself until today. Though the EP was launched this week, the site's still live, so don't let that stop you.
I think this makes most sense if you see yourself viewing Alexanderplatz as it might appear in a silent film, with everyone walking around fast and uneasy, in stocky clothing, the weight of an empire over their shoulders, secret police ahead of them, nobody showing any flashes of skin. This is slightly sped up though, the film accelerates and after forty seconds of black bodies milling in the square, colour appears: modern people begin to walk in, mingling like inks on a palette. Noisy Berliners with babies strapped to their young shoulders, punks with dogs, people on phones and skateboards, forcing themselves to be colourful for all their predecessors, for their quiet ancestors who kept their heads down. Alexanderplatz is no place to be quiet. Hauschka is as amazing now as he ever was. His new record can be streamed here, it goes on sale tomorrow.
