Monthly Archives: January 2010

Transcript: Beach House

This interview is with Victoria Legrande from Beach House, and it was done in December for the January Totally Dublin which is still circulating around the place if you’re in Dublin and haven’t read it. I liked this one, except she didn’t like being called fuzzy, and being from Baltimore doesn’t automatically make a person a Wire fan.

I wanted to ask you how you feel about the reaction to your album leaking.

I feel positive about the album leaking, because it’s ultimately a really flattering thing when you feel like people are excited to hear your record, and they can’t wait till it comes out. That’s ultimately a really positive thing. It also generated a lot of excitement that otherwise wouldn’t be happening. So I think it’s ultimately a positive thing.

There’s almost an impression that you’re the band for 2010.

Really? That’s kind of intense. I think there’s so many bands, that’s kind of a grandiose statement. I hope that’s not the case, I hope we’re not the band for 2010. I just hope we have a really good year. We’re really excited about touring, we can’t wait to make these songs come to life. Thanks for the compliment.

What’s your impression of the differences between Teen Dream and Devotion?

One of the differences, I feel, is that we had a lot more time to work on Teen Dream. Devotion is a record we were writing on and off through periods of touring, so it was kind of a fragmented process, and then the recording process took about three weeks. It was a lot shorter. We’re almost lucky that that record happened because of how much time management was going on, whereas with Teen Dream, we toured a tonne, and then we returned last winter and we basically had nothing to do but completely be dedicated to the songs that we had stored up while touring. We had a month for the actual recording process, and we also had a bit more money to spend on taking our time. I think that also allowed us to be able to more fully realise the record, to really get what we envisioned out of it. So I think time has a lot to do with it.

I read in an old interview on an Irish blog [Musical Rooms] that your four track was the most important piece of equipment you had. Does that still hold true?

The four track is still important, and it’s still essentially the most important because it’s where we started. There’s always four track on our record. It’s a very important ingredient, it’s the spine, where things are grounded. But with Teen Dream, it’s not a lo-fi record like the first record which was foggy and really hazy. This is like a hi-fi record, there’s a lot more clarity. But the four track is still the heart of the band, definitely. One of the many, there are a few, our organs, the instruments we love. Beach House couldn’t be Beach House without these elements, so, one of the many hearts. We’re never gonna ditch things that have worked for us, but we’re always gonna try and challenge ourselves to see what we can make from what we’ve always used. My white keyboard that I had on the first record is still used on Teen Dream. We try and challenge ourselves.

In another old interview you said that you were tired of being called languid, and that when you made a new record there’d be new adjectives. What are the adjectives you’re expecting to hear for the next year, then?

New adjectives. Sexual. Obsessive, rhythmic. I think that there are a lot more dynamics to this record, and I think that the record has a lot of different motions to it. There are a lot of fluid elements to it that aren’t fluid the way Devotion was, where things are kind of all the same level, they don’t ever go very high or very low. And I feel like this record will give new adjectives other than languid and things like that because it is different. It’s got more life in it, and I think that’s a result of how much energy we put in. Creating a volcano basically, a nine-month long volcano. Words like languid, we’ve heard those before. But you know, we have a DVD with the record that I think is as important as the album, it’s not a bonus thing. There are ten different artists that we picked, we gave them each a song and what we got back is a curation of videos that are very exciting. They’re all different and they all give a completely new vision to go with our music. That’s also gonna really help contribute to people experiencing the record and coming up with new ways to talk about it. So, like I said, sexual, dark, obsessive. People are gonna have a lot of new words to think about.

Was that an intentional thing, to change perceptions?

The intent is not, you know, ‘let’s change how people think of Beach House’. It’s more, ‘let’s make this exciting, let’s open it up, let’s see what more we can bring to our world’. It’s not about changing people, it’s about giving something more to people, giving them another way of experiencing the record. So I think we’re opening it up, we’re growing. It’s not necessarily about trying to convince people. We’re not trying to not be the dream-pop thing, the dream word is something that’s always going to be part of our music, and it’s not something that we’re avoiding, we’re just trying to give new energy to people.

Do you see Beach House as part of a larger movement toward nostalgia or some kind of fuzzy memory in music at the moment? That would maybe include yourselves, The Antlers, Grizzly Bear and others.

I think that all music is a memory trigger, except for maybe cash money rap. We all share that ability to make music that makes people feel… things… but I don’t feel fuzzy at all. I don’t think this record is a fuzzy record. I think it’s very dynamic and very intense, and it’s not just about nostalgia. And the title is not an ode to being a teen, or the past. It’s not a longing for the past. It’s like an open, abstract invitation to energy… it’s just open. They’re words that are very classic-seeming and that fit really well with the record. In that sense, I don’t feel connected to fuzzy memory. I feel connected to a much broader spectrum of feeling. I think it’s got every feeling in it. That’s why I’m so harping on the fuzzy memory thing, because I think it’s more than that.

Do you have any memories of playing Electric Picnic this summer?

Good God. Do I have memories of Electric Picnic? We had a great show, I remember that. But I remember not playing until like 3.30 in the morning and then leaving at 8 in the morning the next day. It was a really intense experience. I still don’t believe that it really happened.

It felt really dream-like, in that little outdoor amphitheatre, and you didn’t go on until so late…

Maybe I shouldn’t reveal the unglamorous details of music life, but they didn’t have the basic ingredient, which is a converter. So we couldn’t plug anything in. We had everything set up, but the festival didn’t have a convertor for us, so they had to find someone from all the way across the land, basically, to get one. It was kind of a nail-biting experience, whether we were actually going to get to play. So that was exciting. But it happened. Kind of like playing Russian roulette or something.

Okay, compulsory Baltimore question. Do you have a favourite Wire character?

I have only seen a handful of episodes of the Wire, actually, but I can tell you my favourite character is that murderous girl, what’s her name? Snoop?


This is not a Tumblr, but here is a quotation nonetheless #5

“Altbros are generally dead. They either morphed into relevantmusicbros or bro-bros.”

– Carles, ‘Whatever happened to popular nightlife electro DJ Steve Aoki?’ ( (24 January 2010)

Well thank fuck for that.

The Analogue Hour

As of 2010, I’m presenting the Analogue Hour on 2XM, alternating weeks with Bren. You can listen on Wednesdays at 7pm or Sunday at noon (but not both, because it’s the same show both times) on a DAB radio if you have one, or online on RTÉ’s website. The shows generally consist of some vague enthusiastic rambles of the sort you might read here, except interspersed with lots of ehhhs and short gaps while I try to remember why I was trying to say. In fact, it’s exactly like the podcasts I did for a while and then kind of silently gave up on. There’s also music. Here are the playlists of the ones that have gone out.

Analogue Hour 55:

  • Karen O and the Kids – Rumpus(Where The Whild Things Are OST, 2009)
  • Bear In Heaven – Lovesick Teenagers (Beast Rest Forth Mouth, 2009)
  • Christmas Island – Black Cloud (Blackout Summer, 2009)
  • Clues – Ledmonton (Clues, 2009)
  • Burywood – Northward (There Exists An Abstraction Ladder, 2009)
  • Of Montreal – Nonpareil of Favor (Skeletal Lamping, 2008)
  • Wavves – No Hope Kids (Wavvves, 2009)
  • Beach House – Norway (Teen Dream, 2010)
  • Kings of Convenience – Boat Behind (Declaration of Dependence, 2009)
  • Animal Collective – What I Would Want Sky (Fall Be Kind EP, 2009)
  • America del Sur – I Don’t Know You And We’re Not Even Friends (America del Sur, 2008)
  • Minutemen – #1 Hit Song (Double Nickels On The Dime, 1984)
  • Sunset Rubdown – You Go On Ahead (Dragonslayer, 2009)

    Analogue Hour 57:

  • Vampire Weekend – Cousins (Contra, 2010)
  • Surfer Blood – Swim (Astro Coast, 2010)
  • Funeral Suits – Acid Happy (Eye Spy, 2009)
  • Xiu Xiu – Gray Death (Dear God I Hate Myself, 2010)
  • Beach House – Take Care (Teen Dream, 2010)
  • Avey Tara and Panda Bear – April and the Phantom (Spirit They’ve Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished, 2000)
  • White Denim – Let’s Talk About It (Let’s Talk About It EP, 2007)
  • Best Coast – When I’m With You (Single, 2010)
  • Girls – Laura (Album, 2009)
  • Devo – Mongoloid (Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!, 1978)
  • So Cow – Runaway (So Cow In The Sitting Room EP, 2009)
  • Future of the Left – Chin Music (Travels With Myself And Another, 2009)
  • The Knife – Colouring of Pigeons (Tomorrow, In A Year, 2010)
  • Transcript: Sunset Rubdown

    I do interviews for Totally Dublin sometimes. They go up online on their site so I don’t usually post them here, but I thought it might be fun to post a few unedited transcripts of full conversations, rather than the edited ones. This interview was with Spencer Krug a couple of months ago. Afterwards I felt like I was a little static with the questions, and I wouldn’t mind having this one back, given how long I’ve loved his music.

    tl;dr: interviews with the boring bits.

    Dragonslayer is a much more open record than Random Spirit Lover, were you trying to avoid making something as dense as Random Spirit Lover?

    We weren’t trying to avoid anything per se. I think we wanted to try working a different way. Well I know we did. So a different-sounding album came out. Random Spirit Lover was made in the studio, a lot of it was written in the studio, a track at a time, figuring things out slowly and layering things on top of each other, ending up with that lush, dense sound that you’re talking about. Dragonslayer was almost completely written and toured beforehand, we did it like a live record where you throw up mics and everyone plays their part and there are no overdubs. So it ended up feeling more open and more like a bunch of songs, less conceptual. Just sort of rock songs. It’s just a natural product of the way we were working.

    Do you think it’s more of a band record than previous Sunset Rubdown records?

    It’s a similar sort of mix. The other records are still everyone adding their own things, writing their own parts. The way it always works in Sunset Rubdown is that I’ll have a song, and certain ideas or rhythms or melodies that I’ll want people to do. But most of the time, people are making up their own shit, you know? I think maybe the difference in sound is down to us being more comfortable playing with each other, and maybe people in the band are starting to experiment a little more or be more confident in their playing? I think we’re just getting better at playing, as a band. Everyone’s that bit more confident in their creativity, you know what I mean? We also added a fifth member, which makes for a bigger sound.

    To what extent are your lyrics fiction? Or are they fiction at all?

    They’re fiction as much as any other lyrics are fiction I think.

    I was reading the lyrics to Dragonslayer on your website and the way they’re laid out, some of them read like short stories almost. Do you think of yourself as a writer?

    I don’t really think of myself as a writer. I do try to write short stories, and I’m not very successful, but when I’m writing lyrics… I’m not trying to write a short story when I’m writing lyrics, so in that way, no, they’re not fiction. They’re metaphorical ways of describing situations and my own feelings and experiences of life and friends and lovers. I think that’s pretty much what all song lyrics are. I try to have certain elements of poeticism in there, as bad it may be. I try to keep it interesting, for myself and for the listener and for me to sing and for people to hear. So for that reason I end up using a lot of metaphors, and it reads like some sort of weird, half-baked short story. Which I can totally understand, and it’s totally fine, but when I’m writing, it’s not like I’m writing poetry or anything like that. I would never call myself a poet. I’ve tried it, and I’m really, really bad at it. When I’m writing song lyrics, I’m just writing the emotions that the music is invoking in me. I’m thinking of the music as much as I’m thinking of the meaning of the word. Like, the melody, the cadence of the word as much as their literal meanings.

    The people in your songs tend to have mythological names, or there are a lot of animal names. What’s the idea behind that?

    Those are just concepts and images that… at a certain time they kind of interested me. They’re not meant literally. They’re figurative, they’re metaphors. I end up using a lot of animal imagery or mythological imagery because I guess they’re kind of fascinating or really lush. But I’m not literally singing about a leopard or whatever.

    How do respond to the accusation that you’re the hardest working man in indie rock?

    I don’t work that hard. It’s not really work. I think there are many, many people writing and putting out as much music as I am, but maybe for a smaller audience. I’m just in this great situation where different record labels are willing to put out records that I’m a part of. And I’m in a lot of collaborations, all these different bands have these really talented people that I get to work with and are kind of a lot of help with making music. Of course, if different labels are willing to put it out, then that’s cool, but there are hundreds of seventeen year old kids in their bedrooms making twice as much music as I am. This “hardest working man in indie rock” thing, there are so many parts to that sentence that are annoying to me. Even the indie rock part is annoying to me. It’s just bullshit, you know? I’m just making some records.

    So when you’re writing, do you just write songs and bring them to different projects, or do you write for Wolf Parade when you’re writing for Wolf Parade, and for Swan Lake when you’re writing for Swan Lake? Do you divide the songs up in advance?

    It’s more like, if Wolf Parade are active that day, then they’re somewhere in the back of my head when I’m writing music. So when I bring ideas to them, they’re ideas that, when they were formed, I knew that they were probably going to end up being Wolf Parade songs. And then we write as a group, and Sunset Rubdown writes as a group and Swan Lake writes as a group. I come up with the skeletons of songs, with the structure and the lyrics… I try to write these songs so I can sit and play them by myself, and if they sound okay that way then you know they’re probably not going to get a lot worse if you add these other instruments. But somewhere in the back of my head is what band I’m going to be working with next and what they’re good at. Like, Wolf Parade is good at being a rock band. I hate talking about it, because I hate deconstructing it and analysing it. It’s always something that’s happened very naturally, that I’ve been able to be in these different bands, and be an active songwriter in two or three bands. It’s not something that I’ve ever had to struggle to try to split up my creative energies. It doesn’t take a lot of conscious deliberating deciding where songs will go. When I get asked about it I have to start analysing it, and it sounds clinical and kills the magic.

    Do you ever see yourself doing an album like the first Sunset Rubdown album again. Like, demos, or at least just by yourself?

    I see myself doing solo stuff again. But hopefully it would sound nothing like the first Sunset Rubdown album. I don’t see myself working in that way again or putting out an album like that again.

    But you would write and record something with just yourself?

    Sure. Probably. I’m definitely not against it. But hopefully I’m moving forward and not backward. Like that early Sunset Rubdown stuff… I haven’t heard it in years but when I imagine what it sounds like, it’s so very very different to anything I would want to be doing now. You know what I mean.

    I didn’t mean aesthetically. It’s just that you’re involved in so many different things, but you have done a solo album in the past, and I wondered… is Sunset Rubdown your outlet for that kind of creative control? Or do you need that even?

    Do I need what, to work alone?

    Yeah, or do you want to?

    Yeah, I think the same as any other musician it’s fun when you’re… it’s very different to work alone. It’s much scarier because you’re not bouncing your ideas off anyone, so you don’t actually know… there’s no-one to rein you in. That can be scary and it can be a negative for the music, but it can also be a really exciting way to work. And it’s also just less formal I guess. You can just be sitting around in your underwear at three in the morning. Music is still a hobby, a passionate hobby, as well as this formal thing I do in bands, you know what I mean? So Sunset Rubdown has moved beyond the realm of me doing a lot of solo work. I recently did a 7” record that was under the moniker of Sunset Rubdown, that was just me, but it was more like me just putting out a couple of demos. One of them has already turned into a full band song that will probably end up on our next record. Because it changes so much when you add these things. It becomes such an entirely different song. It’s interesting to have access to different ways of working and to see how much the results differ. Both are rewarding and both can create music that’s hopefully worth listening. So to answer your question, I totally plan on doing more solo stuff in the future. I kind of never stopped. It’s just a question of finding the time I guess.

    You mentioned in an interview vague plans to collaborate with Jamie Stewart. I was wondering, two years down the line, has anything come of that?

    It’s still a big plan. I was actually just talking to him in June on a Sunset Rubdown tour in Carolina where he lives now. He came to a show and we were talking about it. We’re both just really busy. It’s something we would both love to do. It still stands at the exact same place. A vague plan.

    You seemed to enjoy playing Dublin with both Wolf Parade and Sunset Rubdown. Do you have any impressions of Dublin as a place to play?

    People are very warm in Dublin. We have a few friends there too. A warm little crew of people over there who have us over. Dublin is probably the only place I’ve ever played in Ireland. The first time I went to Dublin with Wolf Parade I really loved it, and I’ve loved going back every time. It’s got a chill atmosphere. I love going to the pub and seeing fucking high school kids, sitting around smoking and drinking. It’s not something you really see in America. There’s a sense of community or tolerance or something. Tolerance for partying I guess. That isn’t really prevalent in other places. It’s just this accepted thing, we’re all going to party and have fun together and there’s going to be drinks… that’s a pretence a lot of places try to nurture, but it doesn’t really feel true. It feels true in Dublin.

    So in summary…

    1. Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavilion
    2. Dirty Projectors – Bitte Orca
    3. Sunset Rubdown – Dragonslayer
    4. Clues – Clues
    5. The Pains of Being Pure At Heart – The Pains of Being Pure At Heart
    6. Grizzly Bear – Veckatimest
    7. The Antlers – Hospice
    8. Patrick Kelleher – You Look Cold
    9. Hunter-Gatherer – I Dreamed I Was A Footstep In The Trail Of A Murderer
    10. Burywood – There Exists An Abstraction Ladder
    11. Christmas Island – Blackout Summer
    12. HEALTH – Get Color
    13. Camera Obscura – My Maudlin Career
    14. Jeffrey Lewis and the Junkyard – Em Are I
    15. Times New Viking – Born Again Revisited
    16. Future of the Left – Travels With Myself And Another
    17. The XX – xx
    18. Jay Reatard – Watch Me Fall
    19. BATS – Red In Tooth and Claw
    20. Port O’Brien – Threadbare
    21. Fuck Buttons – Tarot Sport
    22. Karen O and the Kids – Where The Wild Things Are OST
    23. Sky Larkin – The Golden Spike
    24. Girls – Album
    25. Wavves – Wavvves

    This is what the list looks like all in one place. Do you ever get the feeling the ending is set before you even begin? Well, I’m sure if you’ve been around, you knew it was going to MPP all along. I think I kind of knew it was going to be MPP since about Christmas 2009. But predestination didn’t stop puritans banning dancing, so I didn’t let it stop me. Hope you enjoyed skimming the reviews 1% as much as I enjoyed listening to the albums.

    Thanks to the three guest bloggers, Ana, Aidan and Hardcore For Nerds, who came all the way from fashion-blogging, lo-fi and Tumblr respectively to do what they did. All were genuinely interesting to read, and took time they didn’t need to take, so I hope you enjoyed them.


    Irish: 12% (2008: 12%)
    By bands I was already into before 2009: 36% (2008:40%)
    Saw live: 64% (2008: 48%)
    Reviewed for print: 52% (2008: 32%)
    Interviewed for print: 12% (20% including Interview Project. 2008:12%)
    Owned on CD or vinyl: 48% (2008: 40%)

    More Stats

    Average Pitchfork rating of top 25*: 8.03
    Average Pitchfork rating of top 5: 8.38
    Average Metacritic score of top 5: 8.08
    Average State score of top 5: muddy brown**
    Overlap with top 25 of NME’s 50 Best Albums: 36%
    Overlap with top 25 of Pitchfork’s 50 Best Albums: 28%
    Overlap with top 25 of State’s 75 Best Albums: 28%

    * Five albums (BATS, Burywood, Hunter-Gatherer, Patrick Kelleher and Sky Larkin) were not reviewed by Pitchfork.
    ** This is a mild joke.

    The Year. 1. And the ecstasy turns the writhing light through our windowpane.

    1. Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavilion [US]

    It starts out slow, like a wave washing on a shore. Geometry gradually appears in the swells, and Avey Tare shows up to meander and sway through two verses of In The Flowers. Then it happens. The sky cracks open. Like God reaching down through the frescoed roof of a cathedral, but with industrial strength strobe lights, Merriweather Post Pavilion arrives and announces its presence.

    It’s stunning. The building blocks are sounds that haven’t been heard before, but the end results are feelings as familiar as can be. Rhythms cascade into each other, with syncopation undercutting the burbling top level, and the melodies seem conjured from some deep subconscious, the songs you hear as you’re falling asleep, or as you are asleep and dreaming, coloured in with the fluorescent paint of plot-free imagination.

    Of course, Animal Collective have been one of the best bands around for nearly half a decade. So what’s new? Well, not unlike the career trajectory of Genesis, their drummer found his voice. Panda Bear had songs on Strawberry Jam, but it was still quintessentially an Avey Tare record, like all preceding Animal Collective albums. But his influence on Merriweather Post Pavilion is apparent, and vast.

    Panda Bear paints in broad strokes. Avey’s songs are subtle, sometimes wordy, and often fairly complex, but Panda keeps it simple. He wants to build a house for his wife and child. He wants to lie in. He wants to masturbate less. He wants to perk up his brother after their father died. But unlike his solo material, where the swathes of space between his block capital theses are filled largely with sonic wandering, on MPP he has the enviable advantage of a genius and a bearded man to shade the shapes in subtler colours.

    It works the other way too. Avey can still go on lyrical wanders alone from time to time, but on Also Frightened, they’re locked into almost telepathic step with each other for the entire song. And even on Avey’s tours de force like In The Flowers or Summertime Clothes, the fluid, bathyspheric sound on the album as a whole is the result of synthesis between two creative forces. And also, obviously, synthesis of actual sound.

    In The Flowers is the set-piece opener, sui generis and almost physical in its assault, but the closer is just as impressive. Brothersport arrives, a slab of iced pop, after No More Runnin’, MPP’s only true pretty meander in the old AC style. There’s no mystery about this one. “Open up your, open up your, open up your throat”. Shuffling, quasi-“world” rhythms underpin some oscillations and celebratory singing for about a minute and a half before the screaming section, which lasts just as long again, building up drums and angular synth oscillations until finally the clouds of misty mystic haze first unleashed on In The Flowers clear, and Merriweather winds to a close with two minutes of carefree dancing.

    I could write a 33 1/3 book about this album. Maybe some day I’ll try. But I need to pick an arbitrary point to shut up about it here, so this might as well be it. It’s been a year since Merriweather Post Pavilion came out, and persistent listening hasn’t worn it out yet. It’s the best album of 2009, for the purposes of this list, but put any arbitrary time period in front of me and I’d make it the best album of that as well. Desert island or wherever, MPP’s coming with me.

    Throwaway Alternate Choice Music Prize Reality Post

    Today the Choice shortlist came out. Here’s what was on it:

  • And So I Watch You From Afar “And So I Watch You From Afar” (Smalltown America)
  • Bell X1 “Blue Lights On The Runway” (BellyUp)
  • Codes “Trees Dream in Algebra” (EMI)
  • Adrian Crowley “Season of the Sparks” (Chemikal Underground)
  • Dark Room Notes “We Love You Dark Matter” (Gonzo)
  • The Duckworth Lewis Method “The Duckworth Lewis Method” (1969/Divine Comedy Records)
  • Julie Feeney “Pages” (Mittens)
  • Valerie Francis “Slow Dynamo” (VF)
  • Laura Izibor “Let The Truth Be Told” (Atlantic)
  • The Swell Season “Strict Joy” (Plateau)
  • Here’s what I would have put on it:

  • Patrick Kelleher – You Look Cold (Osaka)
  • Hunter-Gatherer – I Dreamed I Was A Footstep In The Trail Of A Murderer (s/r)
  • BATS – Red In Tooth and Claw (Richter Collective)
  • David Kitt – The Nightsaver (s/r)
  • Drunken Boat – Plumb The Depths (s/r)
  • Super Extra Bonus Party – Night Horses (s/r)
  • David Turpin – Haunted! (s/r)
  • And So I Watch You From Afar – And So I Watch You From Afar (Smalltown America)
  • Adrian Crowley – Season of the Sparks (Chemikal Underground)
  • Holy Roman Army – How Light Gets In
  • That’s a taste thing though, obviously.

    I understand that getting mad about the shortlist is in part a product of having wrong expectations of what the Choice actually is, and what it’s supposed to do.

    But what IS it supposed to do? It’s not supposed to support the starving artist, apparently, and that’s fine. That’s not what England or Canada’s versions do either. If it helps out a struggling band, well and good, but that’s not its function.

    And it’s not an annual benchmark for groundbreaking Irish musical talent, we’ve established, because Jim Carroll said it wasn’t in his comments section.

    So what is it?

    Nialler9’s Irish albums of the year has shown what the relatively well-versed public thinks, democratically. So what does the Choice do? Picks a panel of judges who are evidently quite a bit more conservative than the average Nialler9 reader, and gets them to come up with a consensus album of the year? What purpose does that serve? What does that even tell us?

    Last year Adebisi Shank were left off. This year Patrick Kelleher and Hunter-Gatherer were left off. Maybe they’re not consensus material. Or maybe it’s just time to get it straight in our heads that the Choice isn’t there to reward musical risks that pay off.

    Next year I won’t get mad. Well I will, but I’ll try not to be on Twitter when the shortlist comes out.