**PIC Blur-endorsed Icelandic duo move from techno to post-punk on an itchy claustrophobic debut
Dykehouse : Chain Smoking Ghostly International
Erectile dysfunction? Lung cancer? Who cares! 'Chain Smoking' is brilliant...
any robots. They had a drummer, not
a machine. And, generally, they spent
too much mid-tempo time playing guitars like grown-ups. Sure, they had lush melodies, but they needed discipline, urgency, a computer-processed edge. Which is where Michigan's Michael "yes, it is my real name" Dykehouse comes in. Formerly a leftfield electronics bod, Dykehouse now writes dreamy indie tunes… on computers. Most of them are pretty rich, but it's this simple, dog-eared anomaly which jumps out at you. A wry ditty about soured love and sexual frustration, it is hazily melodic but, crucially, rattles along atop distorted beats, cheapo synths and scuzz-guitars. Spunky.
The Californian garage king's T Rex covers album shows his melodic muscle
Johnny Depp plays a monstrous Boston gangster in a disguise so unsettling you’ll struggle to recognise him
An EP dedicated to victims of the Paris attacks shows the Foos are on defiant form
The Radiohead guitarist explores traditional Indian music, with mostly impressive results