The Food of Love III

 Alvvays. Pure pop perfection that shamelessly exploits my pronounced weakness for witty lyrics. If Morrissey and Tracy Tracy of the Primitives had had a baby (hey, a man can dream) she would look and sound a lot like Molly Rankin. 

Alvvays. Pure pop perfection that shamelessly exploits my pronounced weakness for witty lyrics. If Morrissey and Tracy Tracy of the Primitives had had a baby (hey, a man can dream) she would look and sound a lot like Molly Rankin. 

 Kelela. Pure pop/R&B perfection. Actually, perfection period. Give a listen and dare to disagree? LMK.   

Kelela. Pure pop/R&B perfection. Actually, perfection period. Give a listen and dare to disagree? LMK.

 

 Cigarettes After Sex. Maybe it's Greg Gonzalez' sensual, sotto voce delivery, but he had me at "patron saint of sucking cock." Possibly the most aptly-named, post-coital sounding band to come (ahem) along in recent years.

Cigarettes After Sex. Maybe it's Greg Gonzalez' sensual, sotto voce delivery, but he had me at "patron saint of sucking cock." Possibly the most aptly-named, post-coital sounding band to come (ahem) along in recent years.

 Tove Lo. Specifically, "Disco Tits." If Cigarettes After Sex is post-coital, this song is pure foreplay. Plus, the Swedish singer-songwriter gets down-- way  down--with a muppet in the video. "I don't have a type" indeed. 

Tove Lo. Specifically, "Disco Tits." If Cigarettes After Sex is post-coital, this song is pure foreplay. Plus, the Swedish singer-songwriter gets down--way down--with a muppet in the video. "I don't have a type" indeed.