I just listened to the new Portishead album, Third
It's awful.
There are three listenable tracks on it; the rest is just mournful rubbish, badly enough written that you remember that Beth really can't sing. It didn't matter with the material on Dummy and Portishead, but this material does her no favours. The whole album smacks of desperation, and not the angsty torch-song desperation of past glories but the desperation to get something out there and be recognised again.
I'm listening to Diamanda Galas now to cleanse my ears.
Jewellery talk and more from Dauvit Alexander, The Justified Sinner.