There are precious few inevitable certainties in life. Night generally follows day. The toast knife always lands butter-side down on the kitchen floor. The cute boy that you like, then love, then marry and then move to various parts of the UK for eventually tells you that he doesn’t love you any more* and eventually shacks up in your marital home with an impossibly cute woman from the Canary Islands who likes to dress up as a unicorn**. Actually, that last point probably lacks resonance for most of you. Apologies for the self-indulgence.
Anyway, the most inevitable certainty over the last few months has been the creation of this blog. For the past year I’ve been immersed in the lovely cardigan-clad, ukuele-wielding world of indiepop. I’ve been observing, photographing, laughing, drinking, occasionally crying but mostly being really bloody happy. And being a bit of a gobshite with too much time on her hands it was only a matter of time before the whole blog thing happened.
Indiepop’s only been in my life for a short time but it’s already proved to be a steadfast provider of joy and unadulterated happiness. Which is more than I can say for….no, Kelly. This is not the place.
Anyway, if you’re looking for a potted history of indiepop, an exhaustive knowledge of bands, sub-genres and musical influences, then it’s best that you go and find another indiepop blog. It’ll be tonnes better than this one, I promise.
However, if you have the remotest interest in how many chocolate brownies I manage to consume at an average gig (1.3), which band won me over with their exploding pineapples (The Thyme Machine) and how Dan from The Sweet Nothings really broke his clavicle (sorry, still classified), then you’re probably in the right place. And I bet, despite the sub-saharan temperatures outside, you’re still wearing a really lovely cardigan.
* Please don’t feel too bad for me. I did snog his mate once. Who then moved to Spain. So it’s probably karma or summat.
**No, really. I’m sure she’s dead lovely though.