Home » Active Playlists » Music to Play in Your Vintage Mustang » People – Les Bods
I can’t believe that it has been just short of a year since Les Bods, a band out of Brighton, England, sent me their first single, “People.” I also can’t believe it has been a year since this COVID-19 shitshow began. It has been a tough one for so many people on so many levels, which is why the band’s song title (lyrics aside) seems apropos for me right now.
My heart goes out to those who have lost loved ones, whether to COVID or not. My thanks go out to all essential workers. And, to lighten things up, I’m especially grateful to my local grocers who’ve ensured that toilet paper is never scarce and hand sanitizer stays well below €1,00 per ounce. More surprisingly, I’m appreciative that having to switch gears from tourism writing introduced me to Kate Beckinsale’s pussy (nothing wrong with that), which always makes me laugh.
More seriously, though, I’m indebted to artists like Les Bod who send me tracks. The explosion of creativity this year has been overwhelming, and the number of songs submitted to me even more so. I have a hell of a lot to catch up to play, and work to do.
Thanks out to artists and listeners for your patience!
12 January 2022
2022 marks a decade since The Sueves began their rock journey (albeit with a slightly different band line-up) and they continue to pump out ripping garage/punk.
15 December 2021
It’s hard to believe another year has almost come and gone. It’s even harder to believe that it has moved so fast, considering all the pandemic lockdowns during the first half of the year.
15 November 2021
When you adore a band and practically everything they’ve done, it can be a bit difficult to decide on one single track to feature on a playlist, but “Drive Your Car” became a no-brainer.
When my mother wasn’t walking around the house belting out early 60s’ girl-band lyrics, she was collecting compilation albums, specifically from K-Tel. She may not have had the most refined taste, but she enjoyed variety, or at least that’s what I recall. I poured over them all, preferring some sounds to others. And when I found the perfect song, I’d play it over and over until ready to perform my latest theatrical dance incarnation.
With my family all gathered on floral grey sofas in our basement apartment, I’d set the vinyl on the turntable of a brown fibreboard stereo and not-so-carefully lower the needle. It would pop, screech, and crackle before any music spilled from the weaved-wheat speakers. My toes would press, lift, and sweep through the blue-green shag carpet, my arms would flail, and the music would bass and treble through my soul.
I’m no longer that 6-year-old doing private-audience interpretive dance routines, but my passion remains just as intense. I have no special superpowers as a curator — just my love of sounds and lyrics that transport, transform, move, and make your body groove.