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White Noise, John Fahey’s disciples, and our new home

Forgive the constant references to domestic business at Uncut these past few days, but it's been hard to review much music when we've been in the throes of moving office. We're now firmly established in our luxurious new building just behind the Tate Modern, and have spent the morning trying to understand the new phones and get used to the decor: roughly MODE magazine, redesigned by IKEA, but a damn sight nicer than our old place.

Waiting for the great leap forward

It's a very risky manoeuvre to pull off successfully -- that is, graduating from TV to the movies, from the relatively parochial world of the Channel 4 sitcom to the bright and shiny universe of multiplexes, ancilliary revenue streams and premiers at Leicester Square.

Uncut has left the building (nearly)

OK I've just packed the stereo into a crate, so it's a bit hard to write a proper blog today. Uncut is moving to our palatial new home this afternoon, and I'll hopefully get back to proper blogging action next week.

Spider-Man meets The Flaming Lips and Black Mountain. The Arcade Fire and the Bible. And introducing Paul Duncan. . .

Very quick post today, because the Uncut move has become rather pressing here . But a few things that you might be interested in. Firstly, the Spider-Man 3 soundtrack turned up this morning.

Dungen, Wigwam and Robert Wyatt on the horizon

For some reason, I've been struggling to write about the new Dungen album for a few weeks now. They are, if you're in the dark, a pretty rampant Swedish psych band who had a fair bit of success with their "Ta Det Lugnt" album a couple of years ago.

Fennesz, Sakamoto, the Queens Of The Stone Age/Jack White connection, and lots of removal men

General mayhem here today: Uncut is moving office on Friday, so we're trying to finish the next issue while battalions of removal men swarm around us, emptying our cupboards and leaving great piles of magazines in their wake.

Queens Of The Stone Age live

The first time I saw Queens Of The Stone Age, if memory serves, they were playing London's Garage venue just after their debut was released. It's strange, then, that nearly a decade later, they're in front of me at an even smaller venue, the historically sticky 100 Club. In fact, Troy Van Leeuwen is directly in front of me, flicking nonchalantly at his pedals with white strappy shoes.

Pissed Jeans, Interpol, Graham Bond and the Queens’ Sick! Sick! Sick!

So this lunchtime we tried being responsible and put on a bit of the Crowded House album in the Uncut office, but quite soon we just had to listen to the new Pissed Jeans record instead. It seemed logical, at the time.

This summer’s Beach Boys comp

Corny fool that I am, today the hot weather's driven me to put on a forthcoming Beach Boys comp. "Compiled and sequenced by Al Jardine, Bruce Johnston, Mike Love and Brian Wilson," claims the press release, and while I'm morbidly suspicious of anything sanctioned by Love, this is a cracking selection.

Meg Baird’s Dear Companion

Since I blogged about the Espers live gig last Friday, I've been playing the Meg Baird solo album to death.
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