I have some highly irritating neighbours. I daresay that in my insomniac days, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but now I’ve learned to sleep I don’t really appreciate being woken up at 2:30 in the morning when they all spill out of their post-club taxi on a Monday night and race up and down stairs banging doors and squealing all that much. So on the nights they go out I tend to sleep with the radio on.
The other morning, I woke around 6 to a song that sounded, through my groggy haze on the edge of wakefulness, rather interesting. I had no idea what it was, and the duvet muffled whatever it was the DJ said before the next track. And that was that.
This morning, I received a bundle of CDs to review, including this one. I had no idea who Emiliana Torrini was, but I was immediately sceptical. After all, the press release was largely given to a list of gushing reviews from Q, Mojo, Uncut, Metro and... the Sun. Perhaps reading the press release before hearing the CD is bad practice, but I like to get an idea of what I’m letting myself in for. Still, point is, anything that receives such universal acclaim is, generally, in my opinion, cack.
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So imagine my surprise when I threw the disc into the player to hear the song that I’d woken up to only a couple of days previous. And it’s still interesting. There’s a primitive edge to it that only adds to the catchiness of the instant hook, and at only just over two minutes long, it not only does its job quickly and efficiently, but subscribes to the classic old-school pop formula from back in the days of mono whereby a song was short and to the point and instantly memorable. Not bad at all, and infinitely better than the noise of drunk students.
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