This bit is such nonsense. In the US, B&S are distributed by Matador/Capitol Records. How much more corporate can you get?
But surely they are only distributed by Matador? And besides, as I understand it, all the publishing rights of the songs are owned by Sony anyway. Pretty big company, really. Mibby I'm just a little bit naive, but I reckon all this indie = good, not-indie = bad is a big load of horse shit. I don't quite see why good music can't come from bands signed to big companies. Ok, so there's a lot of Alanis/Celine/Mariah shit out there (and lets not forget that stuff floats the boat for some people) and most of it is on big labels, but so what? Did the new Beck album lose any of its soul because it was released on a bigger label than intended? Has the manics album gained any because none of the big American labels wanted it (which I find particularly funny - not even their own label wanted them. Serves the miserable welsh bastards right)? Bitches Brew. Kind of Blue. 'Round Midnight. Three Miles Davis albums that, in my opinion, piss all over just about every album released this year - yet they're on a huge label. Maybe that's not the point though - he is dead after all. I dunno. Just go and buy/copy an album, don't worry about which label its on, and enjoy the music. And leave the ordinary people listen to Alannis/Celine/Garth - its their choice. The only thing that sucks are music nazis. And Manic Street Preachers. And Oasis. Music snobs are ok, though (I've always wanted to know enough to be one). On a different note,
What does a hot desk smell like? Not a Zen mind-clearing riddle, just a personal question of mine. I can't imagine this smell or even any metaphorical connections. An odd phrase if I may say so, almost anti-evocative. I haven't heard the song yet, but thanks to our resident Isobelle fetishist I know the lyrics you mean. That smell, the smell of wood and ink, mixed with the smell of warm milk in little cartons, the ones with pictures of animals on (I always wanted a lion one), and paint and chalk - oh, I want to be a kid again. The days when colouring something in was considered work, when a long day finished at 3 o'clock and getting beaten up by a girl wasn't something you had to pay for. I wish we had wooden desks at work. I think I'll ask my boss for one. They were so practical too - look, its a desk, but lift up the lid and hey! it's a storage space!!
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