The Bats vs The Go-Betweens

Look. I've been sent the new album from The Bats. Frances threw it in with the new Plan B, a speech bubble pasted on top stating that she was sending it on on the condition I should write about it somewhere. Where to write about it, though.



My blogs at The Guardian and Village Voice are both long gone (the latter after a standard enquiry about 16 weeks of missing back-payment was met with repeated silence). I hardly think JMag or NME are going to be interested. This very blog isn't read by anyone, far as I know. It's beautiful, recalls trawling the rainswept streets of Dunedin and Christchurch in search of the spirit of Shayne Carter, is full of pastoral sentiments and elegant harmonies, the way The Go-Betweens always were (still are, because the music hasn't ceased to exist). Doubtless this music is appreciated by the new generation of bloggers, the same way Mekons once were: not exisiting anywhere near enough the mainstream to assure any sort of critical shrug (ie: the only folk who are going to be discussing The Bats in 2009 are those who already know, appreciate and love The Bats in 2009), and realised in a way few post-Television, post-Richman bands are realised. All those C86-heads cluttering up my peripheries should be mouthing old Stone Roses album tracks as they listen in, wonder in their faces. Will they?

Only those who already know, appreciate and love The Bats in 2009 will be appreciating and loving them in 2009, surely? Someone prove me wrong please.

It's a lonely life here, separated from all my platforms.