I keep making a grade-A tit of myself in front of members of Anathema. The first time was at Bloodstock festival last year. I’d decided on a whim that I’d interview them because I was a bit drunk, and thought coming back with more than one garbled interview would make me look pretty ace in front of my editor (I was doing a write up for a site with a naughty name, called metal as fudge).
Anyway it was my first real interview (I’d interviewed Die Apokaliptischen Reiters a day earlier, but that doesn’t count because they fucking suck) and I was nervous, because I actually like the band. So, sunburnt to fuck, wearing a stupid hat and dying for the loo, I sat down with the singer Danny Cavanagh and tried to conduct an interview. It didn’t go too badly, and I don’t think he wanted to give me a slap, but I did seize up more than once, and babbled incoherently about Mike Patton and wanking. Well done me. He was very nice though, so I thought I got away with it. Soooo, as soon as I got back, I set about trying to transcribe it…
FORGOT TO PRESS RECORD DIDN’T I?
Fuck my life.
The next time was at Damnation Festival. I didn’t interview them, but I did bump into the bass player (who is another Cavanagh. They’re like the fucking Baldwins). I started doing the drunk fan bullshit, and he couldn’t hear a word I was saying because Lock Up were playing, so he politely excused himself as I kept garbling on. Not as bad as talking about wanking, but still, I look back and cringe. I bet the next time I encounter them they accidentally cop a look at my ballsack or something.
Aaaaaaaaanyway, their new album. It’s gorgeous. Anathema started out as a doomy metal band, but unlike certain peers who shall remain nameless (coughmydyingbridesplutter), they’ve actually managed to evolve and stay interesting. They’re basically alt rock now, which is brilliant for me because I find metal so unutterably depressing at the minute. Seriously, I’ve had some shocking promos recently that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get round to reviewing because they’re that fucking awful. One of them was for an album called Death Race for fucks sake. I hear so much as a pinch harmonic ever again I’ll shoot myself.
No such nonsense on We’re Here Because We’re Here though. I can honestly say I’ve played the living cum out of it. In my exclusive chat that you can read nowhere but in my head, Danny Cavanagh told me he loved Radiohead, and you can tell. The emaciated wonky-eyed ghost of Thom Yorke seems to float a wee bit through these songs, although there’s none of the millenial paranoia that he’s famous for. These are romantic, windswept songs that you could play to your girlfriend/ spouse/ whore after a blarney, and she would fall back into your arms and you could make love like sea otters on the beach after eating lobster or something. So really I shouldn’t be listening to it, because I cannot exaggerate how utterly and completely I detest women at the minute.
Searing misogyny aside, this is really nice and good and you should go buy it and stuff I dunno. Also people from Stirling are thick as FUCK.