Preceding the release of My Days of 58, the Americana legend once known as Smog discusses his Yorkshire youth, why Spotify is like the mafia and the bleak state of AI

We got married to [Smog’s] Our Anniversary. When you write songs, do you think about how listeners might carry them into their own lives, or do the songs stop being yours after they are done? Vanearle
When I wrote [2019’s] Watch Me Get Married, I thought maybe people would have that as their wedding song. But mostly it’s inconceivable what people are gonna do with a song. I don’t think about it too much because there are 100,000 places where it’s gonna live. Have I ever heard about any inappropriate uses of songs? I think having Our Anniversary as a wedding song is a little surprising, but maybe they’re realists.

As an appreciator of dub, if you could spend a week in a studio to collaborate with any dub artist at their peak, who would you go for? albertoayler
I’d have to say Lee “Scratch” Perry just because he was so crazy. He was like a little kid – just infectious excitement. I think that he would have been easy to hang out with. But also, King Tubby was such a minimalist and I’d be curious about how he determined when enough was enough – investing so much power in the fewest elements. Have Fun With God [the 2014 dub remix album of 2013’s Dream River] was very traditional – all the moves were taken from 70s Jamaican records. Maybe once is enough. But I do like the idea of recycling recorded things to make something else – that’s what initially attracted me to dub. If I did [a new remix album], I may do a chopped and screwed record.

The house will be meticulously restored to its early 1960s appearance and feature a never-before-seen archive

Pop star and former Disney Channel darling is currently tangled up in celebrity mom drama after Ashley Tisdale penned a scathing op-ed about the group’s ‘mean girl behavior’

South London house to feature never-before-seen archival items and creative workshops for young people

On the evening of 6 July 1972, thousands of young people across the UK had their lives changed when the sight of David Bowie performing Starman on Top of the Pops was beamed into their living rooms.

Come the end of 2027, Bowie fans will be able to walk the very floorboards where the young David Jones had his own Damascene cultural conversion, when his childhood home in south London, is opened to the public for the first time.

(Warner)
In this recording of the eight Impromptus, some of Schubert’s most profound music, Lu cements his place as a serious talent

Eric Lu was a worthy if controversial winner of the Chopin international piano competition in October, having won the Leeds event seven years ago: how many springboards should one pianist seek? What is certain is that this latest Schubert recording, following on from his release of the late sonatas late in 2022, reveals a rewardingly mature, un-egotistical approach to the eight Impromptus, some of the composer’s most profound music.

Lu is very much attuned to the way in which Schubert creates overarching structures, conjuring a mesmerising feeling of stasis with music that’s alive with detail under the surface – in his performances of several of them, time really does seem to stand still. Right from the lonely opening of Op 90 No 1, he draws the ear in with the scope of his phrasing: even though his playing can be weightier than some, his lines go on and on into the distance and corners are smoothly turned, with the dramatic passages growing out of what has come before. Perhaps these performances aren’t yet quite distinctive enough to make this recording top choice in a crowded field, but they certainly back up the Chopin judges’ decision: Lu is a serious talent.

(PIAS)
The Jarman brothers’ ninth album adds a little 80s pop sheen to their distorted guitars and confident songwriting, while always sounding exactly like the indie stalwarts

Last summer, the BBC broadcast an eight-part podcast called The Rise and Fall of Indie Sleaze. Its third episode heavily featured the Cribs’ bassist and vocalist Gary Jarman talking about his band’s first flush of mid-00s fame. It centred on their 2005 single Hey Scenesters!, from which the episode also took its name. It was a curious choice: on close examination, Hey Scenesters! wasn’t a celebration of what some people unfortunately dubbed the New Rock Revolution so much as the sound of Jarman and his bandmate brothers poking fun at it.

There was the peculiar dichotomy of the Cribs in a nutshell. They were a band so of the mid-00s moment that they were nearly signed to a record label founded by Myspace. But they always seemed slightly apart from the scene. They were certainly less voracious in the pursuit of mainstream success than contemporaries Razorlight or Kaiser Chiefs: “A cash injection, a nasty infection – don’t regret it,” offers a song from their ninth album, Selling a Vibe, with the pointed title Self Respect. They were more in tune with what their sometime-producer Edwyn Collins called “proper indie” from a pre-Britpop age, when “indie” indicated not a predilection for skinny jeans and trilby hats, but something set apart from the mainstream that viewed the attentions of Top of the Pops and the tabloid press with deep suspicion and balanced limited commercial ambitions against artistic freedom. It was a point underlined by the kind of artists who gave them co-signs. Quite aside from the former frontman of Orange Juice, there was Sonic Youth’s Lee Ranaldo, Johnny Marr – who briefly joined the Cribs, co-writing 2009’s Ignore the Ignorant – and the late producer/engineer Steve Albini.

Somewhere between record label and artist project, False Aralia harks back to microhouse and dub techno with its deep, detailed productions

From San Francisco
Recommended if you like Rhythm and Sound, Ricardo Villalobos, Vladislav Delay
Up next Double LP from Topdown Dialectic released in spring

False Aralia disappears into a misty gulch somewhere between record label and artist project. It’s ostensibly a label, where each EP has a different named artist, and each sleeve, designed by Nick Almquist, features a different abstract expressionist monochrome doodle. But all the tracks are numbered, not named, and each EP is actually the work of just one producer, Izaak Schlossman (credited as IS), joined by a changing cast of collaborators.

The musician’s elegant electropop marked him out as one of the ‘cool French dudes’, before an attempt to literally crash the Song Contest fell badly flat. Now back with an adventurous new album, he talks about the man who stole his identity and why he doesn’t care for ‘good taste’

A few years ago, a stranger stole Sébastien Tellier’s identity. The impostor – sporting the musician’s trademark sunglasses and beard – posed as the Frenchman at fancy parties, nabbed free clothes from Chanel (Tellier used to be an ambassador for the brand), and even held meetings with bosses from Hollywood studios (Tellier has dabbled in soundtrack work). “He [also] took a lot of drugs like ketamine in front of a lot of people,” Tellier continues with perfect nonchalance from his Paris home, sunglasses and beard present and correct. The crime was only rumbled when a confused woman got in touch to tell him she’d been partying with “Sébastien Tellier” in France only to see on Instagram that the real Tellier was playing a gig in Belgium.

This experience has been alchemised into pop gold via Copycat, a sparkly synthpop workout on his upcoming eighth album, Kiss the Beast. “My name you steal it / Hat and success,” Tellier croons for the song’s chorus over a chunky bassline, disco strings and synths that crackle and spark like fireworks. It’s typical Tellier, mixing the serious – things got so bad with the impostor that Tellier was briefly forced to show his passport at the school gates when collecting his two small children – with the playfully naive.