Wow, orange writing on a white background? What is wrong with you people? Hidden behind that impossible writing is a fantastically in depth article on the underground music scene in Ireland. Thank god though, it starts with somewhat of a definition, for as-with-it-as-a-tesco-kettle people like me:

What defines ‘underground’? Is it a lifestyle, a fashion, regime, attitude? Is it post-rock, punk or psychedelica? A promise on a flyer? Does underground extend above and beyond pogoing bruisers, stage-diving, moshing? Is it the frisson that comes with breathing the same air as three hundred other frenzied be-boppers at the Saturday night hop?
I think it’s the creeping sensation of secretive smugness when a band command every fibre of my being via soundwaves and I screw up eyes, wishing they never make it big, stay wonderful, obscure and untainted forever. But that’s no defining angle to write from: that’s just me.

The article goes on for almost two thousand words. I read it all, and now my eyes are sueing my brain for putting them through it.

Read it: The Real Underground Scene by Naomi McArdle.