Author: Ally

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Mew And The Glass Handed Kites at 15 “From a dance hall there met me as I passed by the strains of lively jazz music, hot and raw as the steam of raw flesh. I stopped a moment. This kind of music, much as I detested it, had always had a secret charm for me.…

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Goethe wrote that “music is liquid architecture; architecture is frozen music”. That being the case, it’s fitting that part of my 15th anniversary with Frengers is diaried to take place at the Barbican Centre in London. The Big Smoke, the Great Wen, Londontown, the city where plenty of the record was germinated; Mew‘s quintessentially non-British opus. And…