Summary
You'd probably think at this point that I don't like Blueberry Boat. But if so, you've missed an important point: I, too, have spelt out, in this review, the cabbalistic number for an ancient, forgotten word for "genesis." I, too, have found that. "It's sad and it's cold at the bottom of the sea / but at least I got my blueberries with me." The musical ocean of the 21st-century Western world is deep and slimy, and a limey's gotta cling onto whatever snippets of beauty one can find, even if they're not songs but time markers: "3:35 to 6:42 on 'Chief Inspector Blancheflower' is one of the best passages in indie music this year so far!" If you've got to dig a little to translate "Quay Cur" from the Inuit, given the alternatives, let's dig and dig.
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Extract
The Fiery Furnaces; Blueberry Boat
Fiery Furnaces rumors which turn out to be true: Start Blueberry Boat at the exact moment that The Wizard of Oz clicks into Technicolor, and the album plays as a perfect-fit soundtrack. Take the first letter of ever...
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