Slowgress

I'm still slaving hard on my end-of-year lists and, album-wise, it's a real eye-opener.
It's only now you start to realise how much your taste is dictated by the usual suspects on the internet.
But, that said, the sheer quality of stuff I have heard this year is top notch.
I disagree that it was a bad year for music or albums or whatever people are saying out there. It really wasn't. There has been a huge amount of brilliant albums, songs and (also) films. I have had album after album on repeat in my headphones and this was the year that the glorious Fucked Up got me back into listening to punk, the music genre it all began with for me, listening to Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, Lard, Crass, NOFX, Rancid, Sex Pistols, No Use For A Name et al.
The 14-year old me would have hated me now though, with my dubious penchant for Bon Iver, Final Fantasy, Fennesz, Horse Feathers and the like.
There was a time in my teens I wouldn't even listen to the words Led Zeppelin being spoken aloud. But such elitism is behind me now and my spikey, bleach-blond haircut is but a wonderful memory.
I'll press on anyway. I'm a sensitive soul deep down under the hairy, drunken exterior (as my mother, my best friend and my girlfriend all like to remind me when the mood takes them) so here is the celestial, gorgeous, wondrous strains of Peter Broderick of Efterklang and Horse Feathers fame with the song Games Again from this year's Home album.
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