A God-awful Small Affair

Prior to 2011, the idea of anyone creating anything worthwhile inspired by/named after Torquay, my hometown, seemed pretty laughable (I mean, sure, Agatha Christie's works and Fawlty Towers are both fantastic but it's been a while, guys). It may look pretty on a postcard but for the past ten years now it's been in rapid decline to the teenage pregnancy capital of the country (maybe Europe?), deserted high streets (the loss of HMV, Burger King and Blockbusters to discount stores and charity shops) and soaring drug use. So it took something quite special to make me feel wistful and nostalgic about it whilst at university, and The English Riviera was just that. It seems to have had a similar effect on many others, as the backlash against Love Letters - their fourth album now - seems to suggest. I suppose there's a large leap for listeners to follow merely on an aesthetic level; back in 2011 they were dicking around on Torquay pier and licking tarmac , and

As the noughties' most perpetually underrated queen of pop, Kelis' career has already been through as many genres and revivals as Rihanna's had albums. It's going to take an awful lot of resolve for this reviewer, however, to move on from her last one: 2010's Flesh Tone and its gloriously produced barrage of club hits such as Acapella , Home and 4th of July (Fireworks) was the perfect marriage between the music du jour (Guetta's prime year) and a unique, highly defined individual style. Why, the outfits from the Acapella video alone made more of a visual impact than the entire ARTPOP experience. So when, way back in April last year, there came quiet release of 'Jerk Ribs' - perhaps owing to the fact she was inbetween huge American and modest British labels - one couldn't help but feel a little bit concerned. Going back to a soul sound fifteen years into a career often has all the hallmarks of an artist giving up, after all. But

For those of us of a gayer disposition, the slow realisation of a new Wild Beasts record, whilst exciting, does initially make one yearn for a new Antony & the Johnsons record instead. Whilst Hegarty toys around with live recordings, greatest hits, and Hercules and Love Affair, his vocal kindred spirit Hayden Thorpe will have to do . If 2011's Smother was anything to go by, however, then I should probably ditch the sulking; not to mention the fact that it was being partly recorded just around the corner from my university, being such the fan of irrelevant, vaguely personal trivia that I am.   Where Smother settled down with its shoegazing, serene melodies, Present Tense takes care to open boldly and with a snarling, John Grantesque synth. Much seems to have been made of their subtle digs at other bands here but I can't quite find much to support that; instead it seems to tear apart obnoxious 'worldly' folk who're bragging to Thorpe, whilst the syn