This is a question for State Champs - how on Earth do you do it? HOW.

I only managed to catch Northbound's last two songs, so I'll keep it short and sweet - just like them (the sweet part, I mean). Their catchy, slightly emo sound reminds me of a certain little band I like very much called Modern Baseball, and in the space of two songs, ten minutes at most, they managed to make me want to give them a more thorough listen, and to make me wish I'd seen the whole thing. Not too bad for just ten minutes.

In front of a sold out Boule Noire, As It Is take the stage. The Brighton pop punks have not graced our capital with their presence in two years, and since then, everything has changed. They now have two albums out and a full room ready to sing along to every word the band will sing. The bigger part of the set is dedicated to okay., which they have released a month ago, but golden oldies like Can't Save Myself or Speak Soft easily find their place and are met with the same amount of joy and enthusiasm as their most recent counterparts. The band managed to rise above the sound issues (their mixes got mixed up and none of them was hearing the right thing, if I got that right), and offered us, as always, a lovely and heartfelt moment in their company. A personal highlight was The Coast Is Where Home Is, written about their hometown, that made me tear up a little bit - I miss the place more and more every day. Closer Dialtones sees frontman Patty Walters crowdsurf and hears everyone singing along, and if that's not how you do a support set right, then, please tell me what is, I'm listening.





It's only the second time State Champs come to France, and the Boule Noire show, from the get go, is set to become the logical following to the absolute triumph the Backstage by the Mill gig had been. It seems every time the Americans set foot on a stage, they bring the party with them. It's no wonder why : their songs are full of sunshine and excellent dance moves material, and that's what you want at a party, right? The band themselves help the matter - when you're facing such an enthusiastic and cheerful group of people, the only thing you want is to join in. I've rarely, if ever, seen a band with that much joy in them, and it's so damn infectious as well. If I'm honest here, to me, State Champs are a bubble of happiness, a ray of sunshine, times spent laughing with your best mates in a sticky club in London or in a car park in Southampton, drinking cider and enjoying the last of the summer without a care in the world. Their music and gigs are linked to two of my favourite people on Earth, and just for that, they will always have a space no one else will ever have.


This tour is the first, proper European headline tour in support of 2015's Around the World and Back and, obviously, a big chunk of the setlist will be dedicated to the Americans' sophomore record. We get treated to Perfect Score, Shape Up, All You Are Is History or All or Nothing, and all these songs are a valid reason to put on your dancing shoes and a great way to realise that State Champs have a gift at creating songs that make it almost impossible to stand still. They know how to make every song the catchiest thing you have ever heard.





Contrary to what they had done on their last headiner, they offer us an acoustic interlude, a moment that shows us that frontman Derek Discanio doesn't just have the best dance moves in the building, he also has a pretty damn good set of pipes to his name. Old school State Champs fans rejoice at the rendition of 2010's Stick Around, and I kind of explode inside when I hear the first notes of If I'm Lucky. The track, featured on 2014's The Acoustic Things, is among my favourites by the band, and I've been dying to hear it performed since I first heard it. Last night, it was half-acoustic, half-electric, and I would quite frankly not say no to a studio recording of it - it was THAT beautiful.


After a bouncy encore composed of The Finer Things' Nothing's Wrong (FINALLY!) and Secrets, that will see a stage invasion taking place, the band leaves the stage on yet another Parisian success. One more time, they've shown me (and this scene) one thing : pop punk is definitely on the way up in the city of lights, and believe me, it was about time.

These past two days have seen me watch two of the most important bands of my adult years. On Sunday, there was A Day To Remember, and on Monday, Four Year Strong.

The venue isn't full yet when local band Atlas For Home takes the stage. Having lived outside of the country for over a year, I haven't seen them a lot, but I have seen their name on gig line ups regularly, and they have played alongside bands like Moose Blood and State Champs already. When they walk on stage, the very few people that have arrived are shyly standing up on the sides, clutching a beer and not daring making a move, but it's all forgotten in a couple of minutes, thanks to the Parisians' extremely catchy alt-rock tunes. They sound very tight and professional considering they are just getting started, and it seems they already have a knack at writing songs that get in your head and under your skin in a matter of seconds - closer Feeling Alive and the "Alright, alright" line of its chorus were echoed by the crowd as one, and it ended up being stuck in our heads even after the band was finished playing. Just writing about it is bringing it back to my brain in full force. Hello, Paris, support your local scene - I promise you, it's worth it.

Unless you've been living under a rock, if you're into pop punk (and especially British pop punk), you've heard of Boston Manor. Their début album, Be Nothing, was critically acclaimed when it was released last year, and they've been on the way up in the scene for a while, now, just waiting to explode.  I'd seen them supporting Speak Low If You Speak Love a year ago, and their sensitive, delicate cover of Brand New's wonderful Jesus Christ had stolen my heart. Their electric set in support of Moose Blood at Koko had solidly got me on board, and it was nothing short of a pleasure seeing them on my side of the Channel.

The thing is, I never know what to expect from French crowds. To quote the famous Forrest Gump, we're like a box of chocolates and you never know what you're going to get. One day we will be the terrible, cold crowd that no one wants to play for, and the next, there will be moshpits raging from wall to wall. Boston Manor's first ever Parisian show luckily got the latter kind of chocolate, the crowd being all singalongs and limbs flying in the air. The band was fully deserving of such a reaction, of course - their set was absolutely flawless, energetic and engaging from the first to the last second, the perfect balance between a band who wants to make their mark and give the audience a good time and yet, make it seem effortless and easy to play for the country with the worst reputation. Thanks to this set, I've moved on from "solidly on board" to "full time fan searching for a nickname à la Moosey B, Trashy B and consorts for them", and it's exactly what I'm asking for from a support band. See you soon, and stuff.

I started listening to Four Year Strong some time in 2009, thanks to the pop punk masterpiece that is Rise or Die Trying. I suppose it isn't too hard to imagine my reaction when I found out they were doing a ten year anniversary tour - I hadn't seen it coming, and even if I had, I would have thought it would only happen within the borders of the United States of America, including maybe a short stint in Canada, but nothing I could attend. Imagine my joy.

It's hard to believe Rise Or Die Trying is a decade old already. While some albums and bands carry the weight of the trends that have stayed in the later part of the noughties, sometimes for the best (like waistcoats, neon sunglasses and unnecessary keyboards), Four Year Strong's early music is as relevant now as it was back in the day. If we're honest, if it wasn't for the Americans and if it wasn't for an album like Rise or Die Trying, there would be no pop-punk as we know it today, simple as that. They aren't the biggest band in the world and yet their influence is beyond compare.

On stage, Four Year Strong is a formula that works year in, year out. They are just themselves, no tricks, no trends. They are solid, they are a band that never disappoints and probably never will. They do their thing, and do it perfectly, they are masters at what they do. They play fast, loud and heavy, they interact with the crowd, and the only thing they want is for you to team up, team up with your mates to the sound of anthems Heroes Get Remembered, Legends Never Die or Maniac (R.O.D), but yet, they'd never ask you to open this shit up or keep this energy going. When they hear the first notes of opener The Takeover, the crowd opens this place up without being asked, and when Prepare to Be Digitally Manipulated kicks in, everyone spontaneously keeps the energy going - and they will during the rest of the show. For a little over an hour, the audience is relentlessly moshing, singalongs are being heard, there is an awful lot of crowdsurfing and a certain member of the public is writing this review with a sore right arm from too much angry finger pointing, in true pop-punk fashion.

After offering us the stunning album that made them famous on a plate, they bring us dessert in the form of five extra songs : 2016's We All Float Down Here, from the band's self-titled album, and four tracks extracted from 2009's Enemy of the World. Everyone was there to listen to Rise or Die Trying, but no one will say no to more music, and there is still so much energy in that crowd you'd think the gig has just started. It Must Really Suck to Be Four Year Strong Right Now is yet another explosion from both the audience and the band, and Wasting Time (Eternal Summer), sees guitarist Dan O'Connor calling everyone to the stage. It's safe to say I didn't stay nicely on my little bench and next thing you know, I was rocking out to my favourite song, on stage with one of my favourite bands in the world, alongside fifty other people or so.

Not a lot of gigs compare to what I have experienced last night. 

Nights like these are what I live for, no more, no less.

Despite being a band who tours relentlessly and announces European shows quite often, we hadn't seen A Day To Remember on a Parisian stage for almost five years (bar a couple of Hellfest appearances). It's safe to say their Trianon headliner was long overdue, and to make up for lost time, they brought us quite the party.



The evening was opened by one of my favourite bands, the beautiful Moose Blood. Last time they were in France, their gig at the Pop Up Du Label was sold out and packed from front to back, but tonight, they have to win over the capital and a full room all over again. They had the toughest spot of the evening, Moose Blood. It's still early, and their music is miles away from A Day To Remember's heavy sound. Yet, they still make magic, being the truly lovely and talented band they always are. They were just themselves, oozing loveliness and kindness, with frontman Eddy Brewerton thanking us all for spending a little bit of our evening watching them. They brought their sensitive and delicately crafted emo tunes to the stunning theatre, played them with all their heart and all their might, and it was different, of course it was, and there was about five of us singing along, but still, it worked. It was odd, if I'm honest, seeing Moose Blood without a singalong loud enough to deafen the whole town. But it reminded me of what their music truly is - comforting like a soft blanket, a warm cup of tea and rereading an old diary, and joyous and full of life like spending an evening with some of your best friends in the world, laughing and singing along like nothing else matters.




I've always known that Neck Deep were destined for greatness, but I don't think I was expecting anything quite like what happened in Paris. They are no longer the little unknown band who had accompanied All Time Low on tour. They have become successful, one of the greats, and the amount of people bouncing along to opener Gold Steps shows it. Quite quickly, we find our feet in the moshpit, jumping up and down, realising we all have the lung capacity of toddlers but carrying on anyway, because what else can you do when Neck Deep are on stage, themselves spinning around and having a blast? I can't think of anything more obvious than how delighted the Welsh boys were to just be here, playing for us and offering us a ray of sunshine in the cold of February. Their catchy tunes are played fast and loud, and are echoed by the whole crowd - especially songs that seem to be on their way to becoming bonafide classics (Kali Ma, Can't Kick Up the Roots). Quite simply put, Neck Deep are a joy to watch live, their set is solid happiness and it undeniably makes you want to join in. You could have believed it was their own headliner they were playing. I don't know of a lot of things that have come out of North Wales (and yet I sing along to Can't Kick Up the Roots like I've hung out at the Central Station my whole life) but it's safe to say Neck Deep are the very best.







It's Mr Highway's Thinking About the End and its iconic breakdown ("Disrespect your surroundings", anyone?) that will open the evening, and as soon as the first notes echo around the venue, the crowd is on fire. Running around in circles to Paranoia, arguably the heaviest track on the setlist, wasn't my smartest or strongest idea of the night, but at least, it showed me what a great crowd the band were facing. Whatever frontman Jeremy McKinnon asked for, whether it was a circle pit, a wall of death, crowdsurfing, people getting on their friends' shoulders or even using your mate as a surfboard, the audience happily obliges, wreaking havoc in the theatre from start to finish.


Just like Neck Deep, when A Day To Remember are on a stage, they make you want to join in. They have an unbelievable energy, never faltering from start to finish, and it feels like they're not even trying to get people's attention - in the best way, that is. They just walk on a stage, grab their instruments and start playing, and all eyes are on them, attention undivided, lyrics echoed by a thousand people hung on to their every word. When 2nd Sucks' "Just get the fuck over it" resonated in the room, it felt like there were ten thousand of us in there - the shouting along was that loud.


The Floridians are touring Europe to promote their latest album, the heavy Bad Vibrations, and the six songs extracted from it will get the same kind of reaction as older tracks. The circle pit during Paranoia sees a huge chunk of the venue involved, and bouncier songs like We Got This or Naivety will get the whole crowd singing (and me half-accidentally belting out the lyrics to Camp Rock's This Is Real, This Is Me during the chorus of Naivety. It works, you can try). Songs from previous albums are welcomed with open arms, like old friends you haven't seen in a while, because on this side of the world, A Day To Remember are old friends we haven't seen in a while. It's unsurprisingly that I find myself shedding a tear or five thousand to Have Faith in Me, or Homesick.







The first part of the set ends with 2010's All I Want (a classic among all classics) and The Plot to Bomb the Panhandle (from 2007's For Those Who Have Heart), and the band will come back for an encore composed of a lovely rendition of If It Means a Lot to You and bouncy tunes All Signs Point to Lauderdale and The Downfall of Us All. It's during moments like these that you can see the mark A Day To Remember have made on our little world - how many bands have THAT many songs to drive a crowd crazy. This band has got to a stage where they could safely play greatest hits gigs for the rest of eternity and get away with it, but it's obvious they want to go higher and they want to be bigger - and they should. They are one of these bands that have a fair chance at making it to the bigger leagues and the festival headlines, and I can't wait to see it happen.


What a difference five years made.
The last time A Day To Remember had come to Paris, they were shooting for the stars already but their set hadn't been met with the attention and chaos it deserved. Five years later, they have a packed room in front of them, over a thousand people ready to have a party, dance in the confetti and climb on giant inflatable orcas. I think that's what they call making it.

It's a story everyone knows. In the winter of 2013, The Wonder Years come to play Paris and there are forty two people including fourteen paying customers in the venue. This story is stuck to our feet like the page of a newspaper sticks to a dog when it rains. It's been three years of rain, now, and it's about time we change history.

The evening is opened by the Americans of Tiny Moving Parts. They are a band whose name I have seen lying around for ages, but haven't listened to - yet. Their set is enticing from the get go, partly thanks to an incredible crowd who will echo every word, and mostly thanks to a fabulous band. They have the catchiness I'm always looking for in music, the ability to unite people and make them singalong as one. They have the obvious enthusiasm and kindness, as they ask the audience to come meet them at the end of the show because "they love making friends". They have a little something special in the way they play music, the emo sound and the catchy songs meet some sort of almost prog-rock technicality, with intricate riffs and complicated (yet accessible) melodies. Their set was the success I wasn't expecting and it won me over in ways I wouldn't have imagined. That was wonderful.

They're not reinventing the wheel of pop-punk, Trash Boat. If you listen to them closely, you can hear various influences dotted here and there, and I'm pretty sure they'd be different for every listener. (Mine were The Story So Far, blink-182 and a hint of Far-Q era Lower Than Atlantis) And I've come to realise maybe that's why it works. Because in the end, Trash Boat have a certain magic that works. It's like all these influences, associated with truckloads of enthusiasm, excellent vocals and the desire to beat the curse they seem to be under everytime they set foot in the city of love and baguettes make up a puzzle that make it all work and sets them apart. The truth is, their set should have been met with a better reaction from the crowd, but, consider this - it took me two years to get it, to go from utter confusion to headbangs and smiles. Maybe Paris just wasn't ready for catchy pop punk tunes, English accents and talks of Disneyland yet. And you can't fault them for that, because they gave it everything. At least, they got me on board, which I'm not sure is that much of a blessing, but here we are. I'm now moving on to calling them Trashy B on a regular basis and knowing I'll see them soon, wherever that is.


It wasn't hard for me to fall for The Wonder Years. It took one song (Passing Through a Screen Door, a heartwrenching track about the expectations you have when you're growing up and all the questions that arise when you don't reach said expectations) and one support set, a year ago, in Alexandra Palace. I heard Passing Through a Screen Door, I heard a crowd sing along and I heard frontman Dan 'Soupy' Campbell saying he never played with his glasses but today he had to because he wanted to know what ten thousand people looked like, and I knew I was in for the long haul. It doesn't take a lot, sometimes.
The Wonder Years don't have in front of them the very own ten thousand people I hope they get someday, but the turnout in the Backstage by the Mill is a victory compared to the infamous Maroquinerie Disaster - forty two people (counted by Soupy himself, according to the legend), only including fourteen paying customers. There's now over a hundred of us in the room, ready for a singalong to some of the best pop punk songs ever released.

There are moments in a lifetime when you're supposed to say things the way they are.
The grass is green. The sky is blue. Humankind doesn't deserve dogs.
The Wonder Years are one of the best pop punk bands there ever was and there ever will be.

Not much compares to the quality of their studio work, but that's a story best kept for another day - even though it greatly contributes to The Wonder Years leading the pack of the most recent wave of pop punk.

But the truth is, not much compares to the quality of their live performance either. Their songs, as they are, already carry a heavy emotional weight, and I bet if you asked any fan, they'd find lyrics and songs they relate to, here and there. Live, all this emotion and all this sincerity explodes in your face and hits you hard, real hard. I thought I was going to bawl my eyes out to Passing Through a Screen Door and leave my lachrymal glands alone for the rest of the gig. Boy, how wrong was I. I ended up in tears during a big chunk of the gig (notably during Local Man Ruins Everything and Dismantling Summer, though I think the moment during which I felt my heart physically hurt me was Cigarettes & Saints. I'm too emotionally fragile for that kind of raw, pure pain), and the most ridiculous bit is, I didn't cry to Passing Through a Screen Door. I jumped around in my non moshpit approved shoes, angrily finger pointed and shouted the lyrics as if I was saying goodbye to all those fears and expectations I'm not reaching anyway, so why holding on to them.





These songs don't become more emotional just because they're being played live. It's not down to the mere fact that you're getting to hear them played by the musicians that make them as opposed to your stereo (or any electronical device the cool kids use to play music in 2017). They get more emotional because the band who plays them for you gives their all. Campbell is sick and the setlist has to be cut short because of it, but if you didn't know, you wouldn't have guessed. His voice is just as impressive live with an illness as it is on record, and just a glance at him tells you he lives every word and every note. What had moved me in February was their sincerity. They did it again. They gave the crowd those songs with everything they had and everything they were, and it won me over like it was the first day.

The excellent set is closed by the equally excellent Came Out Swinging, one of the band's earliest hits, and as the lights are turned back on, I have to face the facts.
Like I said, there are moments in a lifetime when you have to say things he way they are and not sugarcoat it.
The Wonder Years, despite having a sick frontman, gave their all and gave one of the best live performances I have ever seen.

Almost two months after seeing them destroy Birmingham's Barclaycard Arena and London's O2 Arena, I am in Paris to see Biffy Clyro play in a completely different setting : a small venue. If, in the UK, the Scots are used to festival headlines and arenas, in the rest of Europe, the rooms they play are much more intimate, and the theatre of events tonight, the Olympia, only has a capacity of a thousand and seven hundred people. 

After waiting for what feels like five hours, Frank Carter and the Rattlesnakes grace the stage of the Olympia with their presence. There is only one existing word for what happened during those forty minutes : triumph. After only one song, the audience is on board and a man near me turns to his group of friends and shouts how good he thinks this is, large smile on his face. Of course, when you start with a song as energetic and straightforward as Snake Eyes, people are bound to find you good, aren't they?
Frank Carter's talent is not just about the songs - even though he is quite alright at making decent ones. Lullaby, which he dedicates to his young daughter Mercy Rose, is a jam and a half, and I Hate You is poignant and explosive. His ability to instantly make people who don't know him hang to his every word and every note lies in the quality of his performance, how incredible a frontman he is, and how much charisma he has (a truckload). Bouncing up and down the stage, jumping into the crowd during Lullaby (and celebrating the "strong women" carrying him with heartwarming joy) - you name it, he's done it. He's also excellent at interacting with the crowd, finding the perfect balance between getting his point across, going a little personal and yet, involving the audience and giving the thousand and something people in front of him a night to remember.
Frank Carter and the Rattlesnakes' set ends under rapturous applause and, as the lights are turned back on, the woman in front of me tells her friend that it has been a long time since she was that impressed by a support act. Triumph, I told you.





After a twenty minute wait, it's Biffy Clyro's turn to play. They are in France to promote their latest record, Ellipsis, released in 2016, but what is mostly in the trio's mind is that they haven't played a Paris headliner in a very long time - since March 2013, actually. They will extensively apologise for it, and make it their mission to make up for it, too.

When you go from a twenty thousand capacity arena sponsored by a bank to a classic two thousand capacity theatre in the heart of Paris, your stage settings are bound to be a little different. Gone are the fancy lights and the platforms everywhere. If you wanted to see pyro, you're not in the right place, wait your turn until Download or TRNSMT. This show (and these smaller European gigs in general) are all about Biffy Clyro's excellent musicianship and showmanship. The setlist is slightly different than during the first leg of the tour, and numbers such as Victory Over the Sun and God and Satan are brought back to the stage. Despite the difference in venues and crowds, every single song is performed with the same perfection it always is. Living Is a Problem Because Everything Dies or Stingin' Belle sound as impressive and intricate in smaller rooms as they do in arenas, and slower songs like Machines or Medicine are just as delicate and intimate.






Speaking of songs that are delicate and intimate, let's mention Many of Horror for a minute here. The stunningly written ballad, extracted from Only Revolutions, had made me shed a tear (or five thousand) during the arena tour due to a crowd of several thousand echoing its every word behind me. It has easily become one of my favourite songs to hear live - I'm always partial to a good singalong, as you will know by now, and the Parisian crowd didn't disappoint me in that regard. One of Biffy Clyro's most recent singles, Re-Arrange, another beautiful, heartbreaking ballad, gets to my heart in a matter of seconds. (I also did the little clap during the chorus, accidentally got the people around me to follow suit, only for them all to start clapping at the wrong time. Together. What a confusing three minutes for me).
My favourite song to hear live, though, isn't a ballad - it's the bouncy, cheery Bubbles. Also extracted from Only Revolutions, it always sees me dad-dancing like there's no tomorrow, and its characteristic riff makes me happy beyond belief.



The encore, composed of Machines (acoustically played by frontman Simon Neil) and the explosive Animal Style and Stingin' Belle, close another triumph that has just taken place in the Olympia. Biffy Clyro have more than made up for their four year absence (and promise they won't leave it that long until they come back). They have attitude, they have talent, they have confidence, they have charisma, they have a unique style - it's not rocket science to figure out why they have won the UK over, and it's probably the same recipe that will see them win over the rest of Europe soon.

I had wanted to do those monthly music reviews for a little while, and, well, doing it in the new year seemed like a good idea. January 2017 has been a strong, solid month for music with great albums, exciting new tracks and even excellent tours announced. (I need to win the lottery now, but, you know).

TOURS 

The first half of the year will see some quite frankly brilliant tour line-ups. It all started when You Me At Six announced Australian outfit Tonight Alive as main support for their UK tour, alongside Exeter natives Black Foxxes. There will be tears everywhere, let me tell you. I can't make it through a Tonight Alive set without crying my eyes out at some point, and I have a feeling You Me At Six will become one of these bands that I can cry to at the most unexpected moment.

Brits Deaf Havana announced Dinosaur Pile-Up as main support for their upcoming UK tour, taking place next month, and that's a combination that will probably work like a house on fire. Come to think of it, I struggle to remember a time when Deaf Havana didn't have incredible supports on their tours? 

Finally, the tour that will be like Christmas and my birthday rolled into one this spring will definitely be While She Sleeps alongside Australian metalcore band In Hearts Wake. I was desperate to see In Hearts Wake announce shows around Impericon Fest, and this tour is beyond my wildest dreams. (Also, shout out to Fizzy Blood. May this tour be the time I see them with decent sound) Someone send money my way, please and thank you.

Reading & Leeds Fest have also announced their next wave of names and... Jimmy Eat World! The Amity Affliction! And that's it. I think that was probably my reaction when I saw the list. I'm not too massively fond of the line up at the moment, and I think I was hoping for something less predictable and more exciting than Kasabian for a headliner. It seems like the holy trinity of "we're headlining every single festival, ever" (Kasabian, The Killers and Kings of Leon) is back. I don't know how I feel about that. 

ALBUMS & EPs

Five albums have stood out for me this month.
You Me At Six haven't changed that much. They're still able to produce extremely catchy songs (Plus One, Swear), Night People undeniably sounds like a You Me At Six album and Josh Franceschi still has the strong set of pipes you know he has, but now, they're a band who wants to take on the world (no pun intended). Night People is a no bullshit, straight in your face record, with big choruses, enticing intros and saturated guitars all over the place. The London boys are slowly but surely saying goodbye to the scene that made them famous and are embracing their new alt-rock sound with conviction and confidence. It's a really good, really solid album with stand-out tracks (Spell It Out followed by the tearjerker Give are a wonderful way to close a record) and it feels like great things are to come for You Me At Six. At their Dingwalls show, Franceschi announced the band would be headlining the next Reading & Leeds festivals. Maybe they're not exactly there yet, but thanks to Night People, they'll definitely be on their way.

Brighton pop-punks As It Is have released their sophomore album, okay. From the über-catchy get go, it's a deceiving album. Yes, it's bouncy and sugary-sweet, yes, you're going to have a boogie to the bonafide bangers that are Pretty Little Distance or Okay, yes, the artwork is really pretty and pastel, but you're also going to sing along to lyrics about mental illness, family issues and ending relationships. The band's obvious early 2000s influences allow them to steer away from the traditional pop-punk sound of their previous work, and because it's As It Is we're talking about, everything you will hear during the thirty-six (quite frankly great) minutes that okay. lasts is heartfelt and genuine. (There's also a nod to their hometown, full of nostalgia and longing, in The Coast Is Where Home Is. I've rarely missed Grand Parade that much before)

Four years after Old Souls, Deaf Havana come back with their fourth full-length, All These Countless Nights. It's Deaf Havana at its finest, quite simply put. Frontman James Veck-Gilodi is baring his soul and dealing with his demons (namely depression and heavy alcohol consumption), but the album is far from being depressing - it ends up being quite comforting and uplifting, as if the most beautiful things could come out of that much pain. Veck-Gilodi hasn't lost his knack with words and his talent as storytelling (Seattle, Pensacola 2013), and his lyrics are honest and real, sensitive and relatable, yet not cliché. All These Countless Nights is a wonderful piece of work and a beautiful evolution in the band's career. It's everything that makes Deaf Havana "Deaf Havana", with a lot of riffs added to the mix. It's utterly and completely Deaf Havana, and yet it's nothing like they've done before. 

Modern Ruin, by Frank Carter and the Rattlesnakes, is possibly everything I've ever wanted from an album of the heavy side of the spectrum. It's hardcore, but it doesn't follow the traditional structures of hardcore songs. It's punk, but it's modern, it's not trying to be something it's not. It's rock n roll, but it's not outdated, and it's not trying to revive something that is long dead. It's heavy and it's moshing material, but it has a whole lot of heart and words that aren't clichés. Wild Flowers, about a love story that ends badly, is a masterpiece and miles away from the classic break-up songs. Thunder, written about the wars and the evils of our world, is insanely powerful. There's a sense of longing all throughout the record, drums that build up into something big and massive, and closer Neon Rust is the pinnacle of everything, a pure explosion that ends on something hopeful.

Irish duo Greywind have just put out their début album, Afterthoughts, and it's quite frankly hard to believe it's only a début album. I'm not going to beat around the bush : I am fully in love and I find it flawless. Frontwoman Steph O'Sullivan's voice is heaven, strong and powerful at times yet delicate and intimate. Every song is carefully crafted and precise, and it makes you feel like you're on top of the world, or in a car driving at full speed, or in the middle of a storm, or maybe watching a forest catching fire - feelings brought to you by the incredibly vivid songwriting. Afterthoughts is a unique album, going against all the trends, it's unlike anything I've heard before, and it's surely unlike anything I've heard recently. Every song is an explosion of sound, of colour and of sensations. I fear I'm running out of positive words. I'm in love.

An EP I loved was Dashboard Confessional's Covered and Taped. Emo legend Chris Carrabba dropped it as a surprise on the 20th of January and gives us his interpretation of Sex by The 1975, Sprained Ankle by Julien Baker, Love Yourself by Justin Bieber and, my personal favourite, Using by Sorority Noise. It's stunning from start to finish.

The two albums that left me with a "meh" taste in my mouth were, first, Red, Green or Inbetween by WSTR. I'm usually on board with pop-punk and brush off the naysayers that call everyone generic, but this time, I'm the one calling it a little too generic to my taste. Most of it feels like a Neck Deep tribute act, except for Eastbound & Down, which reminded me too much of Your Best Friend by Seaway.
I also felt compelled to give a listen to Selfish Age, As Lions' début album. The band, born from the ashes of metalcore outfit Rise To Remain, is growing fast and making their mark, but on my end, I feel it lacks the originality, the enthusiasm and the sharp edge I loved so much about Rise To Remain.

MY FAVOURITE BAND

The band I've listened to the most this month isn't a band that has released music in January - it's just a band I'm slightly late to get into. Ever since YouTube recommended me their feel good pop-punk track Voldemort, I've been on the obsessed side when it comes to With Confidence, spinning their début album, Better Weather, pretty much on repeat, day in, day out. Their music is upbeat, catchy and positive, which is pretty much everything my life needs, those days. 

The truth is, even though I love my gnarly, I hate my hometown, give me some pizza pop-punk, there isn't a day I don't miss the times when the most popular kind of pop punk was the happy, upbeat one à la We The Kings or Hey Monday. I'm glad a band like With Confidence has exploded in my life out of nowhere, thanks to a Harry Potter reference, because their feel good music (with a little twist, still) was exactly what I wanted to hear. 

THE PLAYLIST

This month's playlist includes :

• a taste of the "albums that stood out"
• some of the "album that knocked me off my feet thanks to a Harry Potter reference"
• old favourites making me excited for their upcoming albums
• that one Ed Sheeran song that sounds like Ace of Base. I mean, I love Ed Sheeran (and he seems over his "airing his dirty laundry in music" phase), I love Ace of Base and nineties throwbacks, this is the best of both worlds.
• some sassy pop music in the form of Little Mix's newest single and Nelly Furtado's come back.
• the single reason why I live a lifetime of defending Jonny Craig. 
• the French track I have wanted to hear since 2008.