Dancing with myself about architecture

I’m an autumnal soul at heart. There’s little choice, really. Spring makes me sneeze, summer makes me sweat and winter just makes me more awful. While declaring my allegiance is all well and good, it still leaves me with three unsatisfactory seasons to contend with. It occurred to me recently that perhaps appointing an uplifting soundtrack for summer might offset the onset of pit stains and “Hot enough for you?” refrains.

As an aside: The object of my affection recently enquired what the happiest song I’d ever written was. After much deliberation, I decided on “Summer Cold” – an ode to being ill. I later revised my selection to “Trapline,” which features an animal chewing off its own leg. That was the answer I stuck with. Point being, I have a tough time letting the sun shine in.

Consequently, my immediate infatuation with Lucky Soul’s unabashed bubble gum stylings came as a surprise. “Struck Dumb” introduced me to the Londoners and left me appropriately gobsmacked. In search of aural insulin to temper the saccharine onslaught, I tried “Lips Are Unhappy” on for size. Alas, the moment vocalist Ali Howard cooed “Shake! Shake! Shimmy!” I found myself pondering, “I wonder if this band has any Kool Aid that needs drinking?” Revelling in Motown and Northern Soul influences, the group’s gloriously overwrought debut, The Great Unwanted, can anticipate a long tenure on my headphones.

However, just as Lucky Soul suggests that “One Kiss Don’t Make a Summer,” one album doesn’t constitute a soundtrack. For nighttime accompaniment, I’ve turned to The Clientele, whose recent God Save The Clientele fulfils their longstanding promise to deliver a “60s sunshine pop” album. Whether it be the lilting “Here Comes the Phantom,” slinky “Bookshop Casanova” or acid-washed “The Garden at Night,” these are the ideal melodies to guide one’s twilight wanderings.

Of course, what would summer be without a little disappointment over unfulfilled promise? Months ago, I would have wagered my entire allowance on Voxtrot’s self-titled debut being this summer’s institution. Instead, the band seems in danger of fulfilling their own lyric: “I used to be your biggest fan/Now I find that you are slipping in my estimation.” With one exemplary song (“The Start of Something”) and three solid EPs already to their credit, the twee Texans simply seem stretched a little thin creatively on their first full-length record.

At the very least, “Kid Gloves” features the plum line: “Cheer me up, cheer me up/I’m a miserable fuck.” Now that’s a summer sentiment even an autumnal soul can get behind.

The 8 Track

Hear it for yourself! Visit www.the8track.com and feast your ears on Lucky Soul, The Clientele, Voxtrot, The Pipettes and Monster Bobby.

Without a word to (Music) Waste

Kellarissa: Eerier than expected. Well (and weirdly) played. Bible Belt: Born again! Best banter of the festival. Precious Fathers: These strapping daddies aren’t afraid to discipline. E.S.L.: Kicking it old country. Remind me of when I was a dziewczynka in Warsaw. Blackberry Wood: Festival founder Kris Mitchell gets his boots dusty. The Choir Practice: Further portents that a Godspell revival is nigh. The Public or the Press: Maybe my maki was just off but I’m pretty sure Mike White is in this band. The National Shield: If Malkmus and Nilsson bred, it wouldn’t be pretty but it sure would be poppy.