[Track Of The Day: The Bronze Medal "No Hospitals"]

 

 

Pretty, prettaaaaaaaaay lazy weekend folks. Obviously we don’t mean in terms of work – coaxing, confirming, and generally sorting out a shitload of journalists, some competition winners, certain radio peeps, a film crew  and various people who unsurprisingly the night before the show (having spent a good month watching us bang on about it relentlessly. Yeah, cheers guys) itself are now very keen to be sorted out for a now-completely-and-utterly-sold-out Festifeel isn’t actually as easy as we’re, y’know, clearly making it out to be – but rather in terms of the perimeter of our movements in the last 48-ish hours, which has been restricted to, oh, like a mile from our default location. Which, to be exact, is parked in front of the telly in our shorts and Chelsea shirt (when we chill out, we really chill out) with some kinda fast food and some kinda booze within our sit-down reaching distance. Admittedly, our sudden sense of national pride left us just as fast as it takes us to look out the window and witness the shiddy shiddiness pouring down outside. Not that we mind the rain that much, in isolation. It’s just that we’re very conscious of the fact that it makes basic functions, like walking, a lot more difficult than they have to be, and marrying this up with standing near a river watching a lot of boats (impressive as they were, judging from what we saw on the telly) just ain’t gonna fly. We’re just not built for that shit. We were, however, in light of our recent (in)activity and being able to watch the world go buy purely by sitting on our arse, treated to one of the best soundtracks we could have hoped for by virtue of being introduced to Bath fivesome The Bronze Medal. Who, under no circumstances, are to be confused with previous TOTD’ers from ages ago Bronze Medallists. They are different, ya dig? And how different indeed. The Bronze Medal come recommended to us from one particular source who are once again rendering us guilty of being aware of a particular act but being too fucking overwhelmed with everything else to actually get round to listening, nodding in rhythmic unison to the track in particular (not in a record-label-meeting-and-you’re-pretending-to-be-into-something-you’ve-never-heard-before-with-excessive-vigour, but for-reals-nodding, mainly because we’re usually by our lonesome when this happens so we’ve got no-one to show off our head-nodding abilities to), sourcing relevant pictures and social networking channels, and obviously writing a load of crap about it as we’re doing right now. We’re sorry. These guys have an EP out imminently on the 2nd July via New Music Club, from which No Hospitals is lifted. The music? Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes, Sigur Ros, Spring Offensive – basically any indie band that actually makes songwriting both an art form and their calling card in generally could be cited as influences here. We strongly recommend your involvement with these dudes.

 

 

ENCORE. Feel the Death Cab on this bad-boy.

 

 

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