Oh come on. Surely there aren't really such deprived people at large in the world? Seriously, humanity's lack of depth sometimes just levels me.  To catch you up to speed, the BBC has recently reported that the gravestone marking the grave of Ian Curtis, the late frontman for the legendary Joy Division, has been stolen. According to the Beebs, at some point between Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning, thieves removed the stone from the Macclesfield Cemetery in Curtis' hometown of Macclesfield, England. Authorities currently have no leads.

A Place To Bury Strangers.

Man, the distortion weilding noiseniks that form this incredible act have been treading the stage boards for a few years now, in various incarnations and lineups. Finally they're getting the cred and attention they deserve. For these guys are not fad musicians, this is the realio dealio. In fact they're so dedicated to their craft they even handmake their own guitar pedals of which tonnes of bands in America and the UK continue to order with gusto. Like, they just made a special, signature model for The Dandy Warhols.
Even though, live, they pretty much try to saw your head off everytime with a churning wave of  sound, you shouldn't be afraid. You should be in love.

The UK has far more than killer fish'n'chips and rickety piers on its southern coast.
No, not the White Cliffs of Dover or Fat Boy Slim. I'm talking British Sea Power.
They've just release their brand new record "Do You Like Rock Music?" and words can't describe how great it is. One could try though, how does "Jaw-Dropping" sound? Or maybe "Awe-Inspiring"? Get this record.

Not content with "renovating" half of London's East for the upcoming Olympics in 2012, the British capital's civic planners have just given the go-ahead for a giant, artificial wave machine to be built on their Thames.
By 2011, two metre swells are predicted to be heaving into a disused east London grains dock replete with a beach, palm trees, "fire pits" for barbecues and sunburnt locals.
Britain's hardly known for consistent surf, but now, at a flick of a switch, 560 tonnes of river water is going to be whipped up to create perfect waves for all those would-be Mick Fannings out there to 'cut sick in the pit'.
Should make that growing number of UK surfriders pretty happy.

So, as 2007 ran to a close I was lucky enough to attend a string of amazing free-wheeling Black Lips shows here in Melbourne. Those guys rocked my world. Big-ups Atlanta! Anyway, it was while hanging at the legendary Tote for their penultimate show when their bass player Jared pointed rather drunkingly to a poster and said, "See that band there Josh? They are the reason we exist. You HAVE to go see them". And see them I did. How could I not?!

Last night, amongst one of the most hardened rock scene crowds I've ever seen - think hoary beards, long unkempt hair, leather vests, sound engineers and psychedelic flashbacks - Pierced Arrows ,  a three-piece featuring the husband and wife duo from rock institutions Dead Moon, killed it. Toddy, the female vocalist/bassist, looked like she had lived life the hard way, though her smile of pure enjoyment cut through that tough countenance. Sounding and acting like the consumate rock goddess - think Patti Smith, Deborah Harry and Joan Jett rolled into one firey ball of zeal - she was more than ably backed up by a thumping giant on the drums and her partner, Fred Cole - a Grateful Dead-meets-Slayer-meets-Johnny Cash vox/guitarist - who churned out non stop swamp-blues pearlers.

At any moment these originators sounded like The Pogues, Bad Religion, The Stooges, MC5. Man, you name it, they had it covered. These guys are the real deal.

Thanks for the tip, Jared!

Buzz Bands. Yeah, there's always a list about as long as Route 66 of "Next Big Things". But that doesn't mean we shouldn't pay attention sometimes when we're prodded by the hype machine. Presently, in the US, the touted stratosphere visitors are Black Kids, a Floridian gaggle of infectious, crunking, party bashers. Now, call me an Anglophile, but as fun, and maybe promising, as these kids are, they kind of pale in comparison with one of the UK's current darlings. Across the pond, the cheeky lads of Joe Lean and the Jing Jang Jong have spent the better part of 2007 flirting with every major label and tastemaker with a penchant  for batted eyelashes and jangly, brit hooks. Given they're another band to borrow a little of the gilded legacy left by the dethroned Albion kings The Libertines it seems rather fitting that they've eventually settled on a deal with Vertigo, joining a roster that boasts one Carl Barat. Funnily enough, they've also just finished a nationwide arena tour with ol' Pete and his shambling babes. There you go then.
As you were.

Man you gotta love The Kills. VV and Hotel (Alison Mosshart and Jamie Hince, respectively) play such a dirty, evocative, minimal kind of rock, it makes you edgy just thinking about it. Their albums - Keep On Your Mean Side and No Wow - bristle with barely restrained vigour and a raw, well tapped sexual electricity. On stage, as they sweat and shout, they look like they're one step away from a hurricane like embrace that's half way between body crushing and some kind of damaging intimacy. Kind of scary really, but damn enthralling.

So anyway, they've just released a new single called URA Fever. This wee turn is a bit of a bleepy, dancy number, with none of the trademark buzzsawing guitars, but man, that level of red hot heat is still there. Ouch! Bring on the full record, I say.