Automatic for the presses

So REM are the latest band to harness the awesome power that the internet has granted publicity-hungry rock bands in perilous danger of being past their prime, letting technology-savvy freeloaders listen to fourteenth album Accelerate at no expense at all until Wednesday (at which time the world will wait in sombre silence for its proper release on April 1). Streamed in its entirety through the iLike service that can currently be found residing on many user's Facebook accounts, super-serious singer Michael Stipe has said that: "We wanted to do something superfast and super real... Accelerate is our turbo-charged response to the times we live in."

Coming as it does after The Raconteurs' recent decision to rush their new album Salute Your Solution on to the shelves, and the obvious example of Radiohead's canny record label-defying manoeuvres last year, the urge to get music out to 'the fans' is starting to seem less like an altruistic gesture than a macho sprint to the finish line - where a frenzied media just happen to be ready to adorn them with adoration and some much-needed attention. What can we expect to see next: Bono barely able to finish his final vocal for the new U2 album before he has to sprint solo over the North Atlantic Ocean to personally stock copies of the resultant release in stores, carried along only by the goodwill of the world's eternally grateful citizens? (Walking on water should surely be little trouble for a star of his stature...)

Though it could be absurd, at least it would be entertaining (just imagine the sunburnt singer midway through his trip, trying to beat away baying sharks armed with nothing but his trademark sunglasses and an inflated sense of self-worth), which is at least partially the remit of the music industry.

What better way for Jamie Oliver to combat our nation's obesity problems than by getting 10 up-and-coming bands to try and produce a full album in record time, the winner alone receiving an ever-so-enticing recording contract. Any overweight musicians participating wouldn’t dare eat a chicken dipper for fear that their lacklustre work rate could cost them the competition. Such will be the excitement at the super-speedy turnover that few people will care when the resultant LP is about as listenable as two gigantic jackhammers being juddered into your unprotected ear drums.

After all, a lot of pop music is so instantly disposable that we can barely look at many of the genre's acts for even the requisite 15 minutes without our eyes becoming very, very heavy and our brains suddenly wondering whether it was Jennifer Aniston or Courteney Cox who appeared in that Bruce Springsteen video - you know, that one where she gets on the stage in wacky fashion and bops along innocently? Why not just get it over and done with as soon as possible, so we can move on from the inevitable disappointment of another subpar release and instead enhance even more our almost delusional expectation levels over some other album, one which has yet to let us down by making the miserable leap from a wonderful world of idealistic fantasy into the grim gutters of rock 'n' roll reality.


Track of the week:

Over The Wall - 'Grand Defeat'
http://www.myspace.com/overthewall

Electronic music always used to centre on such a menacing mechanical clank that it was mostly reminiscent of horrific futuristic nightmares - if it was to assume a physical form then it would be the skinless Arnie skeleton from the end of the first Terminator, clawing and clambering its way towards you with a grinding, gurning insistency.

Thankfully Over The Wall are one of those new breeds of bands who embrace technology with a big warm hug and a mug of hot chocolate, and thus they should remind you more of the super-sweet android Haley Joel Osment from A.I. - though hopefully with a longer-term career in front of them, and without any jaw-droppingly dull extended endings.

For the moment we can revel in the Glaswegian duo's latest musical offering for public consumption, Grand Defeat, which sinks its initial plaintive guitar plucks into a sorrowful sea of mournful synths and oddly moving lyrics about 'the Holy Ghost burning his toast'. One of the most likeable live bands you can witness in Scotland at the moment, their touching lo-fi electronic nuances give us all a reason to look to the future with a glint in our eyes. (At least until the new Terminator movie gets us all depressed and paranoid again. Or just plain depressed, if it turns out as abysmally as its director's effort Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle.)

That all-important first post...

Okay, so a friend said that I couldn't just fire into my main post, that I need a starting point. Something for you all to read so you can get some sort of handle on where I might head in future.

Personally, I think it's a bit pointless, especially as I'm terrible at mission statements (I can't handle too much sincerity without stooping into sarcasm). But here we are, so I must have thought he was on to something. This will at least follow the next post I'm about to make soon afterwards, so you'll know I'm writing about music. I like some of that, though it might not always appear like that. I live in Scotland. I like some of that, though it might not always appear like that. That's pretty much the basics. Apart from the fact that I might not always write about music. I'm unsure as yet. So yes! Hope you enjoy everything that follows...