Firstly, from me to Peanut Butter Words: I have to be better about harnessing you, little foxes. You come to me in daydreams and float away as the sun sets. Something villainous, I’ll get you next time.

There has been a lot of pilfered grime (of the Brit-beat variety) both in and between the ears lately. Most good, some not as good. “Singalong” by Crazy Titch is the best klezmer song I’ve heard in ages, enough bastardized Hebrew bomp and harmonic minor scales to last me until my sister’s bat mitzvah in September. On the whole, what’s happening in London seems to be outrunning most everything I’ve heard lately, innovation-wise.

Speaking of homophonics, my girlfriend recently shared her thoughts on the Futureheads’ cover of “Hounds of Love”:

“It sounds like braids.”
“What do you mean braids?”
“Like braided hair; it sounds like braiding and braided hair.”

You think music sounds like braids. Where the fuck is my imagination?