Plasticities

Dear James,

In my search for half-decent music on Argentinian TV, I recently came across I-Sat's Basement Recordings, a half-hour program of hip musicians recording songs in what we are led to believe is a dingy cellar, but in all likelihood is a ground-floor TV studio with no windows. No matter, I-Sat is now officially my favourite channel, if only for their Friday night comedy feast of Peep Show, Extras and The Mighty Boosh. Yes, the Mighty Boosh. Maybe it's just my excuse for not going out on a Friday night.

So the other day we had Andrew Bird making his Argentinian TV debut, probably. Many people consider Mr. Bird to be the best rock whistler since Axl Rose chirrupped all over Patience, and I for one am not about to disagree. Sadly, Axl Rose never worked out the whole pizzicato violin sampling thing, and Guns N Roses' music has always suffered for it. Sometimes I like to think I could be a professional musician, then I see Andrew Bird doing things like this and think "Nah..." Sadly, such videos have no similar effect on Axl Rose.

Then this other band came on singing lovely harmonies and arcane lyrics. Good as the I-Sat show is, they do tend to neglect to display the name of the artiste and song title in any prominent position, making them perhaps the Led Zeppelin of the TV world (Led Zeppelin didn't put their name or album title on their first four albums, or release singles in the UK). This means I have to memorize lyrics while enjoying the bands, then google them and see what comes up. Turns out it was Fleet Foxes.