Posts tagged Dent May.

'It was now a little bit ago that we first felt the becoming urbanity of satiny L.A. outfit The Gloss’ Words warming our under-collar area, and its suave charm has yet to cool off fully. And their newly issued The City EP is, if stylistically disparate as their Californian hometown, an otherwise neat collection more than capable of stoking the flames of intrigue, its second of two skyscraping high points the slinky Wish You Knew. Dappled with the joie de vivre of Darwin Deez, sprinkled with the glittery brilliance of Dent May’s Do Things and dripping in the terse stabs and louche drawl of Merchandise, it’s a quintessential slab of transatlantic sleaze that ought to brush off the otherwise ubiquitous comparison with The Strokes. Wish You Knew? Here’s hoping you now do…’

'One day, we'll cast a retrospective gaze back over the highly sublime lifework of Paw Tracks signee Dent May and realise we gravely undervalued one of the most evocative, and should be epochal songwriters of this day and age – the Elvis Costello of the link bait generation, if you will. And, having matured from gawky uke geek to swoonsome crooner on last year’s Do Things, May might well have found his truest of form as he here returns with the astoundingly glitzy Born Too Late – the sort of melodramatic belter that, albeit appositely, would’ve surely tied the United States of a now distant ’70s up in rapture for a decade or so. Replete with the lingering grandiosity once renowned of the tragically now extinct Super Furry Animals, blithe synth undercurrents and bingo hall grooves to have your gramma sashaying arthritically about the place, it’s an absolute tour de force of compulsively backdated genius.’



Born Too Late is lifted from May’s forthcoming third, Warm Blanket, which is anticipated next month on Animal Collective’s native imprint, Paw Tracks.

'Friday has this grim propensity to be a bit of a dry one: the persistent drip of emails touting largely drab wares in the inbox tends only to be sporadic at best, lunchbreaks more or less double in length, and this week the weather's still unremittingly dour. Though alleviating the gloom is this lustrous composition from Stockholm five-piece Alexandria, for Whatever is positively sodden with an inspiratory brightness: giddying as Dent May’s wondrously blithe Do Things and gleeful as Melody’s Echo Chamber, it’s gawky as it is graceful. And Friday just perked up a touch as a direct result!’

"I just kinda started asking myself these questions about what pop music’s role is in carrying these mass messages; these unconscious messages of mass destruction. Or mass salvation? It just depended on the song. For one of them, we were looking to channel the ‘Jonestown Massacre by way of the Bee Gees’ Stayin’ Alive, and that’s almost this message, you know, of survival. And I was like: ‘Well, if the world were to end this year, I wanna write the Top 10 singles album documenting whatever it was that was the number one hit at that particular time.’ I guess that’s kinda how it turned out."

Dots & Dashes talk the impending apocalypse, pop, and Paw Tracks with Prince Rama’s Taraka Larson…