New Year wheezey soaking you to the molecule

Christmas and NYE go together like a hand up a fist. If your flex is appropriately prepped, then once you've stuffed yourself stupid over the festive period, you can dance yourself thin less than five days later. We journeyed to Sheffield to do exactly that in an arch deep in the guts of the city. Kabal was the flex featuring Pipes, FMG and Chris Welch who kept the arch reverbertaing until well into the next morning. Predictably we spunked our fun load a little too early in the club but made up for it by attempting to drown ourselves in liquor back at the (borrowed) ranch. Props to the Kabal committee. As expected, it was big, bad and heavy. And ring a ding ding to the Off Me Nut Crew, who were also repping. Hard. Sheffield past meets Sheffield future somewhere near Niche. Hello 2011. Let's be having you...



Fetching the late night mince



#justsayin'



Ready



Chimney bizness



In the heart of the Kabal



A blurry FMG



Fucking squire



Double chin flex



Oooof



Pipes. On it.



Early doors



Bass



Pipes and the FMG getting a lather on...



Supplies



Map

You wouldn't want it any other way...

Christmas this year was a lot. The language around the snooker table at my rent's gaff was similar to that used on the touch lines of amateur league football pitches. We lost £20 on the Euromillions draw. The hostess trolley was murked within an inch of its ever decreasing life. We watched Mr Bean goes on holiday. We learned about Great Uncle Len (RIP) who went inside before jumping in front of a train. Some ducks got feed. One robin got dubbed "a bastard" by one rent in particular. Props to the folks for putting up with us. You were too kind...



Hot ball action



Goddess



It's a post dubstep kinda ting



Custard trifle flex



Totally locked on it



Christmas dins - done



Live hostess trolley action



Wibbling rivalry



It's a pinot grigio type o'ting



Best meal of the year



Breakfast



Bench pressing

Claus - Pass the peri peri mate...

Santa was kind in 2010. Especially him of the secret variety. Unfortunately he wasn't on hand after the work do came crashing to a vicious close several hours later. It transpires that travelling from Hounslow to Hackney at half one in the am can take upwards of four hours. Especially if you get distracted by a bunch of scallies and stella on the way back. One of this year's resolutions is to spend less time asleep on public transport. Fingers crossed...

It's Christmas

Last minute non-festive review flex

Ahhh - nearly fucking made it to Christmas. Almost there. Let's cut to the fucking chase. Here's a pair of reviews recently knocked out - one's on the above Brandt Brauer Frick's debut album. It's like techno made on classical instruments and stinks of Matthew Herbert's under arm. Which is a good thing innit.

Brandt Brauer Frick You Make Me Real album review

The other is on Sheffield's new guitar heroes, Starlings. I know!

Check that over here...

Starlings Weight in Gold review

Breton go Hemlock...

Breton are one of the many bright new hopes having their name bandied around by those who put great importance on lists - best of the year charts and big tings are cooking for next year charts are annual bookends for music lovers. You can't move for the fuckers. And, as you get older, and a little more weary, you find yourself seeing similar faces and similar sounds. I guess that's just the way it rolls...

Breton are one of those acts, who, right this minute, would probably give every A&R man in the universe a mad lob on. They possess an indie wail, a dubstep bounce and plenty of Foals-esque angles. You can check my review of their debut on Hemlock below...

Breton - Counter Balance EP review

Jacques and Jamie meet each other and head uptown

Get out the umbrellas. Suddenly big tunes are raining down faster than you can say 'cats, dogs and student protests'. It's suddenly pouring with bigness. Or I've just been slow on the uptake... I've been playing these on repeat for the last seven days. Jacques Greene is releasing shit on the likes of Night Slugs and Local Action. Jamie XX is the XX's steel pan head - Can't stop the rock...









Bonar Bradberry may have the best name in wide screen, cosmic disco but he's also got some serious music up his sleeve...



And although Kanye West posted this earlier in the year, I've only just found it...