This week’s Toadcast has no theme at all because, erm… well, frankly they’re difficult to come up with and therefore seem just a tiny little bit like hard work.  So given I’m podcasting once a week now, I am not going to be arsed coming up with some immaculately scripted (ah ha haaa!) arrangement once every seven days, so this week it’s really just a brief tour of inbox fodder.

This weekend there are loads of good things happening, not least a performance by Mumford & Sons at the Voodoo Rooms, and a first look for me at what could potentially become an excellent new venue in Edinburgh.  That’s a secret though, so no more details than that.

So, for now enjoy the Soulcast, so named for no better reason than that the first couple of songs have the word soul in the title.  Piss-poor excuse really, isn’t it.

Toadcast #41 – The Soulcast

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01. Nat Johnson – Dirty Rotten Soul (02.39)
02. Maxwell Panther – Lost Soul on a Roll (06.21)
03. Deerhoof – Chandelier Searchlight (11.40)
04. Aberfeldy – Claire (15.01)
05. Hot Lava – Blue Dragon (21.11)
06. Deathbot – The Cold Wind Revival (23.20)
07. Lambchop – Sharing a Gibson With Martin Luther King Jr. (28.41)
08. Wilco – Company in My Back (35.45)
09. Woodenbox – Twisted Mile (39.17)
10. Pale Young Gentlemen – There is a Place (46.33)
11. Japanese Motors – Spendin’ Days (54.52)

Jesusmarymotherofgod I am in nasty, nasty shape this morning. Afternoon, I mean. Urgh, whatever. I feel like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are engaged in a running battle with the Hounds of Hell inside my head.

After the successful conclusion of that big nasty project at work we all went down the pub and, at the expense of the company, got absolutely battered. I actually forgot to eat anything all day as well which probably made it worse. Anyhow, having not slept all week I promptly staggered home in the early hours of the morning and passed out on the sofa. This morning I feel quite apocalyptically bad, but we have another big project starting immediately and a sketch review tomorrow, so there is little chance of a rest in sight. Oh for a sofa, a blanket, a teddy and some Irn Bru.

Well I turned to my inbox for solace this morning, given my complete inability to do any productive work – there’s really no noticeable difference, needless to say – and I found some good things to share with my interbloggery compadres.

The good things are in the form of Deathbot who are, in their own words: “the product of two kids (Justin Schnitzler and myself, Robert Conn) from California who are armed with too much time, a roomful of instruments, and some basic recording gear, trying to knock out some songs that faintly resemble the indie and alt-country bands that we love listening to.” This is a pretty good thing for a band to be, if you ask me, and I like their stuff. Pale is particularly good – it reminds me a little of the likes of Preston School of Industry and The Folk Implosion in some ways – with a excellent piano thread running through it and a fine indie rasp from Mr. Conn.

The rest of their stuff is more like the Americana side of that song than the indie side, but it bodes well for their forthcoming EP. Given the rather sparse nature of their myspace and their webpage I suspect I may have to remind you again once it’s released, but that’s fine. I know what you’re like, you lot, honestly you’d lose your heads if they weren’t attached to your shoulders. Sheesh.

Deathbot – Pale
Deathbot – Patiently

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