The ‘holiday season’ was surprisingly survivable. The nut roast didn’t poison anybody. I doubled up the recipe quantities, and had exactly 50% left after dinner was done. The main problem I had was getting all the vegetables evenly done. There was much shuttling trays in and out of the oven, and from shelf to shelf, but everyone went away fed and uncomplaining, so I’m going to chalk that up as a success.

It turns out that having a 1 year old daughter is an excellent diversion around this time of year. Most of my time seems to have been spent chaperoning her around various relatives’ houses, where she excelled in capturing the centre of attention. She’s unsurprisingly done terribly well for presents. Typically, her favourite seems to be something inessential; a tiny gift teddy bear that was part of a seasonal book bundle.

I have a nice new coffee mug with a picture of Moominpapa on, of which I am already fond. Also notable, a comic strip book that frames the life and work of Bertrand Russell as an analogy to a classical greek tragedy. Better than it sounds, it’s quite a fascinating piece.

2010 has been a pretty good year I’d say. Mostly full of Ada, who has grown from being a rather sickly baby whose inability to keep food onboard, or sleep to rule frazzled nerves, to a largely reflux-free, sleep-friendly and entirely enchanting toddler. I think my Ada high-point of the last year would be when I taught her to high-five people, whenever she was being carried at shoulder height. She’s currently showing signs of becoming a precocious chatterbox. Other than that, there’s been the career gear-change, moving to work for last.fm, which has been almost entirely awesome. The new job brought a house move to London, which took me through the stages of ambivalence, active dislike of the place, right through to my current state of mind, which is settled back into an easy enjoyment of the appeals of city living. The fly in the ointment there is the lingering unsold Bristol house, dealing with which is going to feature heavily in the new year, I suspect.

Usually, at this time of year, I’d do some sort of summary of the year in music. 2010 has been a year where I’ve been kept pretty out of touch, because I’ve simply been too busy with other things. So most of the new discoveries I’ve made have been anything but current. Like everyone else, I became briefly overexcited about Janelle in the middle of the year. Standouts would be finally getting around to listening to Spirit Of Eden, and falling for it predictably, discovering The Books and Field Music, and my most unusual acquisition Sia’s ‘Some people have real problems’ album, which I wouldn’t have expected to have been my thing, but really captivated me. Luckily last.fm did a chart thing of my annual listening(a subscriber-only feature).

Having an infant at home has really curtailed the gig-going, so I had to focus on quality, not quantity. I did Primavera again, and I don’t seem to be tiring of that yet, I’ve already bought tickets for 2011. I saw an astonishing Dirty Projectors show at the Barbican, performing ‘The Getty Address’ completely, accompanied by Alarm Will Sound. I finally got to see the New Pornographers with Neko, which was good enough to keep a stupid grin on my face all the way through the first hour, even though I was coming down with a stupid cold. I think I’ll probably get more opportunity to see things in 201, but surprisingly I’m not really complaining.

Here’s to 2011. Still sounds wrong.

Suggested listening

• Janelle Monáe: Tightrope performance on Letterman
• Field Music: Each time is a new time from Measure
• The New Pornographers: A bite out of my bed – Horns!
• Sia: Academia – featuring Beck
• Talk Talk: Spirit of Eden – just listen to the whole thing.

Here’s a lovely interview with Carl about it. I have a ticket for Thursday night in my INBOX.

Rather excitingly, the recording sessions featured St Vincent, Will Sheff, and slightly less excitingly, the Dap-Kings horns, and Zach Condon. The album title is ‘Together’.

The New Pornographers are due to play this year’s Primavera Sound, although I suspect I will be giving it a miss this time around.

Barcelona is still a marvellous city, and Primavera is still my favourite rock festival. While we were out there, Barcelona FC won the champions league. I can’t pretend that I have any sympathy, interest, or even understanding of football, but I really enjoyed the electric city-wide atmosphere on the day; silent, tense and concentrating, as countless viewers watched the televised match, suddenly punctuated by sighs and unison cheers as chances were missed, and goals won; culminating in the riot of celebration erupting from every door and window onto the streets when the final victory was realised.

The festival was another success. The personal highlight, for me was the chance to finally see Lightning Bolt, unusually for them, an on-stage performance, that was one of the most exhilarating live shows I have ever seen. Shellac, playing again on the same ATP stage as last year, as good value as always, another chance to see Oneida, and sample some of the “heritage” acts, giving it some legend, like Sonic Youth, Throwing Muses, and Neil Young. A suprisingly energetic Michael Nyman band set in the indoor auditori was an unexpected highlight, as were a couple of new-to-me performances from Andrew Bird, and Gang Gang Dance. I was amused by Sunn O))), but sadly unable to persuade either of my companions to stay and watch more than ten minutes of their set.

More disappointing were Marnie Stern, who I’d been looking forward to seeing again, seemed to be suffering from terrible sound and equipment problems, Deerhunter transforming a great album into a weak coldplay-lite live experience, an uninspired and frankly routine Art Brut performance, and a generically dull Jarvis set.

It turns out that I edited and uploaded my photos to flickr shortly after returning to the UK, but what with all the busying and rushing around re-organising and home renovating, I seem to have forgotten to switch the set to public, at least until now.

Last night I went to see Fever Ray. Fever Ray is the assumed band name of Karin Dreijer Andersson, one half of the strange and compelling Swedish brother-sister art-electronica duo, The Knife.

The ticket price for this one was fairly steep. Seventeen pounds is a lot to ask for an debut act, on a Bristol weekday evening. Knowing the Knife to have something of a penchant for staginess and performance statements, I figured that the cost of admission might indicate a more elaborate performance spectacle than the routine Academy show. It wasn’t a terribly full crowd, which may have also had something to do with the ticket price. Luckily my expectations of an interesting presentation were met, more than satisfactorily.

A stage swathed in as much machine-made fog as I’ve seen since I last watched the Sisters Of Mercy, decades ago. For readers unfamiliar with the Sisters’ stage ouevre, let me clarify; this means a lot of fog. The five-piece band only identifiable as bizarre silhouettes suggestive of a dark circus. Improbably tall hats, shadowy pierrot faces, frock coats, hunched shoulders. Karin, stage center shrouded in an enormous cowled cloak, the headress simultaneously suggesting fur and antlers and briar-hedge basketwork, her peculiar outline only really humanised by oversized white gloved hands. During the second song, she cleverly unfurled her cloak a little, a sudden backlight creating a surprising stained-glass panel effect that seemed to shine from inside her.

The whole performance was a meticulously staged progression, slowly opening up the initial murk. At the start the overhead fog was scissored dramatically by a pair of slow moving laser beams. By the second song, they’d each expanded to a pair of fan shapes. Later on these picked up oscillating movement, and eventually traced out colour shifts in the waves of fog. Within the on-stage gloom, the odd sight of a dozen or so standard-lamps, pulsing away in time to the beats through thick lampshades. I didn’t have my camera with me, although I expect it would have struggled to capture any of this well. Quite a few people have submitted photos of previous shows to flickr.

As the show progressed, the stage was slowly up-lit from the back with soft blue and yellow glows. The cloak was shed, placed on a stand just behind front of stage, it still loomed, like some kind of shadowy spirit-familiar. Gradually we could see a little more of the performers, jigging around, wildly shaking shamanistic totem-sticks, pounding away on congas and toms, yet still the lighting and smoke effects kept them essentially obscured and anonymous.

The short set stuck solidly to the album, without encores, which was fine by me. My attention didn’t wander, nor did I tire of standing in place. My only complaints would be with the slightly murky sound, which isn’t that unusual for the Academy, and that the music didn’t really connect as terribly live, aside from the vocals; pitch-shifted, yet weirdly still human and very real. I think this was probably down to a combination of the very programmed sounds, and the distancing effect of the theatrics. It was something more like watching a stage-show display set to a musical playback, than a rock music show. I took it as an opportunity to watch something a little out of the ordinary, and enjoyed myself.

The album is ace, and I recommend it to anyone. You can find it on spotify.

The video for “Triangle Walks” gives an impression quite close to the live show. There are some other videos available on the band site which give a good sense of the Fever Ray aesthetic.

Triangle Walks from Fever Ray on Vimeo.

Even better, their first release is a Christmas single : ‘Countdown to Christmas / Baby Jesus was the first Glam Rocker’. Better still, they’ve made it available as a free download ‘as an antidote to the credit crunch’. It sounds pretty much like you’d expect, and the first listen brought a seasonal smile to my face.

Now I’m old and cynical enough to realise that very few things are truly never-to-be-repeated one-off exclusive shows in the world of Rock n’ Roll, but I am keen on Sleep, and ATP surely know how to run a memorable event. I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of one of their Minehead weekends, it seems eminently possible that it’s a great deal more civilised than the more traditional tents, rain, and cider circuit. It didn’t take me that long to make the plunge and book a chalet for two. Team Strickland are going to Butlins!

Aside from Sleep on the bill, we have long-time house favourites Spiritualized, crazy art-rockers Devo, experimental hip-hoppists AntiPop consortium, post-punk legends Young Marble Giants, and several others I don’t yet know adjectives for. The more interesting thing about the lineup is the fact that 50% of the lineup will be chosen by popular vote by the ticket purchasers. That means me!

There’s a cunning twist. No doubt intended to mix things up, and keep it fresh. You’re not permitted to vote for acts that have played an ATP UK festival before, at least not initially. This makes life decidedly more tricky. Lots of my no-brainer instant first choices are on the exclusion list. I shall have to work a little harder.

dEUS and A.C. Newman have to be definite votes. St. Vincent would be good. Angels of Light, Midlake, Wolf Parade, Swan Lake ? Ratatat ? Sufjan might be a populist choice. I’d love to see Morton Valence again. Black Affair or the Aliens? Maybe I could gamble a vote on a reformed Beta Band. Decisions, decisions…

It’s all linked. I henceforth predict the Flight of the Conchords will support the forthcoming A.C. Newman tour.

Kate was right, that’s clearly a cardboard theremin. Not often you get to say that.