2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 3

I've been thinking a lot about this blog recently. Why do I do it, who is it for, standard existential concerns. I am enjoying this extended schedule of posting, not least because it has made me think about form and style; I have tried to do something different with the end-of-year model and as a result, I'm also scrutinising the way I write on here. I am happy for the few readers that I have on this platform, but ultimately I write for myself and I have allowed a more personal edge to come through (while at the same time trying to unlearn many bad habits of music writing that I have accumulated over the years). Basically, this has become less of a polished Music Thing and more of just me rambling on about records that I like. And I'm OK with that. 

FOSTER THE PEOPLE - SUPERMODEL

Never in a million years did I think that a Foster The People record would make it onto any best-of list of mine, and yet I have to scold my former self for being so close-minded. Having had 'Pumped Up Kicks' forced down my throat by every media outlet possible in the summer of 2011, I had developed a kind of negative Pavlovian response to any mention of the trio. In fact, when I first heard Supermodel I didn't know who it was by; it was one of many records put on at work by my colleagues in the name of pure curiosity. About halfway through the record I checked out what was playing and, rather than turning it off, I turned it up and went back to work. 

Like with many good albums, Supermodel can be enjoyed on a number of levels. What caught my interest was the sheer amount of groove: see 'Are You What You Want To Be?', 'Best Friend'. What kept me coming back was Mark Foster's understated delivery on tracks like 'Goats In Trees' and 'Fire Escape'. Lyrically this record gets pretty introspective, and it imparts what I've found to be a rare gift, giving the illusion of singing, and indeed speaking, to me and only me. And then of course all on its own sits ' Pseudologia Fantastica', a behemoth nestled in the middle of Supermodel, charging and snarling for 5 and a half minutes straight with next to no relent. As a once staunch critic, consider my socks charmed off.