I can’t be arsed with numbering these any more. Doesn’t really matter, does it?
Here’s some more swoony Sunday morning fodder:
Is there a voice more perfectly gorgeous in the whole wide world than Hope Sandoval’s? I think not. If only there was a way I could contrast it with, say, a former junkie Glaswegian. Oh wait, there is…
…which of course, like it or not, is just an indie version of this:
I feel the need to make up for posting that last one. So here, have this:
I’ll always remember chatting to one of the “cool kids” at school who liked cool music (i.e. not Quo) about music whilst we were waiting for the bus, and he extolled the virtues of that one. My response, an attempt to ingratiate myself, was to talk about the lead singer fire-eating on Top of the Pops. Because I thought he meant this. Oh, the shame.
So allow me to finish, with one of the most beautiful records ever made, oft copied but never bettered: