The difficulty with electronic music is that, being easily tweakable to within an inch of its creator’s idea of perfection, the need for vocals is almost completely disposed with.
No further explanation is needed: the music inherently explains everything it wants to.
Mere words are in danger of becoming a further, wanted layer of complexity sitting on a finely-honed stream of soundwaves.
So how does Ana Lola Roman tackle this quandry? The sensible way, which is to closely integrate the words with the sounds: Klutch is the result of symbiosis between the two.

Over two nights, I’ve seen two awful gigs. This will not do. The first band I will not name; they were young and new, and will surely improve.
But in the meantime, I will offer this nugget of advice: it’s fine to swagger about the stage like Ian Brown and Liam Gallagher’s proto-lovechild, but only if you can back up your cocksure braggadocio with, you know, good music.
Oh, and never introduce another mindlessly drab U2-lite number with the words, "This one’s a fucking tune! Come on!" unless you enjoy the sight of a roomful of people raising quizzical eyebrows.

I already did a fairly comprehensive rant about last year’s Brit Award nominations, and when I first saw the Brit nominations for this year, I just expelled a huge sigh and asked myself, why bother wasting my energy again over a year that clearly mirrors last year’s nominations and many of the preceding disappointing years? Then I had another think, and figured "because it could be funny."
So, I was watching the news a few nights ago and this year it seems the Canadian news has bothered to report on the UK Christmas number one. Apparently, it’s newsworthy this time because three versions of Hallelujah are competing for the top spot: the original by Leonard Cohen, the cover by Jeff Buckley and the cover by Alexandra Burke, some woman from X-Factor. The saddest part of the story was the fact that the X-Factor version was winning.
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