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The Feelies – Glenn Mercer talks about Here Before (Static, 2011)

By |May 12th, 2011|Categories: Interviews|Tags: , , , , , |

An act that many have been holding their breath for the return of for as long as they've been absent from the stage are Haledon, New Jersey's The Feelies. Arriving in the late 70's, and releasing one of the first great new wave/post-punk albums of the early 80's (truly. no hyperbole here) in Crazy Rhythms, The Feelies were the Velvet Underground and Television's geeky Jersey cousins. An enthralling percussive ride, full of jerky rhythms and wild, melodic guitar interplay, the sound of The Feelies would evolve over the years, drifitng away from the arty CBGB crowd toward a more refined pastoral 'college rock' sound that typified an era when bands like R.E.M. and Camper Van Beethoven loomed large.

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Who The Hell Is… Joel Edmondson?

By |September 17th, 2010|Categories: Features, Who the Hell Are|Tags: , , , , |

Originally known to us as one of the curators of the Hangar venue and lofly label in Brisbane we shouldn't have been surprised that Joel Edmondson had a musical project -- the collective have more fingers in pies than Georgie Porgie after all. What we weren't expecting, seeing as his label mates lean more towards the electronic and experimental side of the musical spectrum, was the polished pop and rock awaiting us on his MySpace page. We fired off our standard 15 questions to Mr Edmondson and his swift response proved wry and illuminating, much like his songwriting.

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Webcuts Favourite Tracks of 2010 – Part 2

By |January 3rd, 2011|Categories: Features|Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

So that was 2010. What does Webcuts remember most about it? It's hard to say, really. The landscapes shift, the memories flickr and 365 days blur into one long unending soundtrack. One thing our favourite tracks of 2010 all had in common was that they appeared like one night stands that lingered a little longer than usual, almost all of them attached to a singular memory of the song being performed, either from a distance or elbows resting on the stage in mute admiration, or maybe just there emanating from a speaker aimed direct into our inner consciousness, refusing to budge.