Pollocks, what a cheap pun!

If you google Emma Pollock you'll find a lot of pictures of a slightly (but artfully) grumpy looking woman -eyes downcast, mouth down turned and obviously deep in though. You'll also find that she was a founding member of The Delgados, but has been a solo artist since the band split.

She's not going to smile.

Emma's 'I Could be a Saint' is getting a fair bit of airplay at the moment courtesy of Six Music's rebel playlist vote, and I'm jolly glad is it is too. I was so smitten with the song that I went out and got hold of Miss Pollock's first album, 'Watch the Fireworks', which is really rather good too.

Emma Pollock is a little Polly Jean-esque, by which I mean she's not an insipid warbler, churning out run of the mill 'angry woman with piano/guitar' nonsense. Whist she's not quite as heavy as PJ, Emma's songs cleverly combine fermenting intensity and lowfi values with distracting melodies. She's a little bit of the exception to the norm and the highlights on her first album are very high indeed.

Here's one of my favourites-

• If Silence Means So Much To You: Emma Pollock

What a Swell Party It Is

The slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune are whirling around with frenzied abandon - brand new iPod in the sink, the hard-drive gives up the ghost (if anyone mentions the word back-up I shall almost certainly cry blood); on a personal note it's been the end of a tempestuous era (for the best though), and to top it all there's the ignominy of getting just that slightly bit older. And celebrating said aging by getting a fringe cut in - so I look like a disgruntled Vulcan. It could all be worse, I suppose.

It's not all doom and gloom; some good things have come my way - I've discovered I can earn a living off Deal or No Deal on quiz machines, and I went to see the excellent live podcast recording of Collings and Herrin at St David's hall where I became indoctrinated into the black arts of 'secret dancing'.

Secret dancing is a wonderful thing indeed; the basic tenant is -if people can see you movin' and a groovin' (when you're on a train, bus or public non-dancing area: somewhere that no public displays of rhythm are allowed by law) then... you aren 't doing it right!

Give it a try; I can confirm there's something strangely satisfying about surreptiously patting your pockets to to a hidden beat, scratching you ear when a high note plays... that is if you have a working mp3 player, and earphone obviously. However, since I don't I'm forced to make my own entertainment, this includes whistling annoyingly, and occassionally talking to myself like the mad old woman I am.

Still like I said earlier it could all be worse: I could be the person sitting next to the Vulcan be-fringed, gibbering, whislter on the bus. Ho-hum.

Fyfe Dangerfield

I'm rather looking forward to 'Fly a Yellow Moon', the upcoming album from Guillemots front man Fyfe Dangerfield; he of the slightly crazy whooping noises, bags of envied talent, and heart on sleeve. If the first two singles are anything to go by it should be a joyous affair.

The second single 'She Needs Me' is getting a fair amount of radio play at the moment, rightly so; it's a throbbing, sweet little melody, and incidentally mixed by Bernard Butler. 'She Needs Me' is a pretty pop song, and one that isn't shy of adding the odd flourish of strings, brass or synths into the mix, though nothing is wasted, or (shudder) deliberately kooky.

Dangerfield pulls off the same trick as crazy, grin coaxing, uncles everywhere - "is that a smile I see? I think it is, isn't it? It's a smile."

Go on, have a listen...