Hold on now youngster, this is a good thing to look into the maw of the void, but let's not be excessive, there is still Los Campesinos!. And one day you will wake in the middle of the night and the water on your face will not be from the cold sweat that your dreams of impending doom have produced but from tears of joy squeezed out by a lingering melody, a droning violin, a haunting mantra or a panic attack brought on by a song so tight and serene and messy and polished and dense that it suffocates you like the fumes of the paint that made your favourite album covers. Actually, it's just pop music.
