I went to California on Wednesday to join The Drums as they went about three busy days in the winter sun, on their way to becoming the most talked about new band on the planet.

Jacob (guitar, tamborine) and Adam (guitar) picked me up with thier manager Aimee from LAX airport. We drove straight from the airport to a town about an hour outside of Los Angeles called Riverside. There, Jon (vocals) and Conor (drums) were working on the drum tracks for their upcoming album with producer Jason Martin. On route we worked our way from A to F of the band's encyclopedia of twee eighties indie. When we got there we discovered that Jason lives in a special gated community, it was not like anything I'd really seen before.

In fact the only thing I've seen that compared to Jason's neighbourhood was the one in Edward Scissorhands

Once we got to Jason's we went up to his studio room and had a playback of some tracks. This was the first time anyone in or out of the band had heard recordings with actual live drums on them. Before they'd all been programmed. This is a brand new song called, 'The Future'. Jon said he wants it to end the album. If you listen carefully you can hear Adam clasp Jon's shoulder and say, "It's a great song." in a really cute buddy-like way and Jon reply, "Thanks man." It's actually a really touching moment.

The boys wanted to use Jason cos as kids they were all obsessed with his band Starflyer 59. They're a long-standing underground indie-rock institution in the States, and have gone through various incarnations over the years -some shoegazy, some more discordant, some more down-beat and lo-fi. They're one of the pillars of the Tooth & Nail christian label, who with bands like MXPX forged a vaguely credible christian music scene in the US. As both Jon and Adam were raised by devout christians, they were one of the few cool bands they were allowed to play at home. As we were leaving Adam brought over a vinyl copy of their first album that he'd brought specially for Jason to sign. Seriously, the cute-o-meter was going into overdrive by this point...

After we went to a place called Don Jose's for some food. Jon ordered some really noisy sizzling shrimp. I ordered something called the Ultimate Chimichanga - it's the intimidating looking log at the start...

Then everyone went back to the hotel. We all crammed into their backing singers' -Eren and Ruthy- room. The boys and girls had their bags to pack for tomorrow's midday outdoor university show. They actually have one giant communal 'kit bag'. Suddenly their was lots of clothes absolutely everywhere...

Ready to start feeling all gooey about homegrown grassroots indie? I know, it's been a while, right?

Frankie And The Heartstrings are the excellent Sunderland band who've been putting the lead back in the pencil of proper indie fans up and down this fair nation - a yellsome clatter here, a horsed Geordie swoon there.

Hey, Punka!

We were the first ones to do something on them back in March, so as to mark our loyalties, they gave us something back.

You know how all the idiots and fools 'blah' on about how these days the internet and downloading has devalued the concept of purchasing and actually owning music, and destroyed the collectability-factor in record buying? Well, lets not tell them nonces about this'un, ey?

Here's the latest in F&THS' series of limited releases on their own Popsex imprint. Cept yes it's a free download file- of various exclusive goodies specially constructed for NME readers. Think this is the coolest thing we've given away.

Click here to download Popsex 011

I immediately warmed to Sharks because our passport's bare the same place of birth. A small town in between Warwick and Coventry called Royal Leamington Spa. It's been famous for few things in music. My most residing memory of its link with planet pop being in the mid to late Nineties, when people still bought records, you used to get a CD-shaped mail-order form in nearly every CD single. The address of all of them was one depot in Leamington Spa. It always triggered a little pang of pride in my deepest cockles whenever I saw that address. Subsequently the biggest, and in fact, only band to have emerged from there was Nizlopi. Who oddly I actually once saw support Christina Aguilera. Sorry, I'm just thinking aloud now...

Anyways, Sharks are here to instill a new bite -arf, arf- to the sleepy midland's outpost. They're one of these punk bands with heady everyman rock'n'roll ambition that outstrips their 'rawk' canon, in a similar vein to Exter's Computers, but with less need for glycerin and honey drinking post-shows. They're on tour with Gallows soon, and that's a fitting pairing. Cept Sharks are rather more fond of slick Brylcream quiffs, and Nick Cave-dewlling croons. They also just covered a Wedding Present song. Which they gave us to give you.

Sharks - 'Brassneck'

Elizabeth Sankey is editor of Platform. Each week she’ll browse the internet's dustiest of corners, and trawl the dingiest of London’s venues to find new music for your listening pleasure.

When I was first asked to do this, I got really excited. “What?! I get to speak to that one from the Sugababes (mark II)? OMG!”
Sadly it wasn’t Keisha, the feisty little number, but America’s latest “alternative” female pop star, Ke$ha (don't you dare forget that dollar sign) who had just vaulted to the top of our very own top 4o hit-parade. For those of you who don't know she's a 22 year-old singer who prides herself on irreverent lyrics, messy blonde hair, ripped black leggings and Jack Daniels before breakfast. I rang her up to find out her top 5 metal bands, and chat about the time she broke into Prince’s house.

How are you Ke$ha?
Good. I’m in L.A. at this hotel, and they put me in the ‘Scarface’ room. The machine gun from the movie is on the wall. It’s kinda cool, really gross and cheap.

Is there fake blood on the walls?
Maybe. Probably.

Read more...

I saw Small Black a few weeks back at a weird warehouse/squat party thing during the CMJ music conference in their native Brooklyn.

See? Bar the bare-chested waistcoat catastrophe, all smiles.

I instantly warmed to them as they were the only local band that I'd seen in twenty four hours (baring in mind that was one of approximately 37) that didn't look like utter bell-ends. I loved the fact the lead-singer looked like he should be the DJ in a back-pack hip hop clique from Minnesota.

When they proceeded to churn out a wiry fabric of inertia-crunk grooves and husky, belly-tingling refrains, we realised there actually was nothing irritating about them in any way whatsoever.

There's a few tracks floating around online, but here are two that you shouldn't be able to track down elsewhere.

Small Black - 'Pleasant Experience'

Small Black - 'Lady In The Wires'

Hello Pyramiddd!

We've always quite enjoyed your pastel-toned rainbow ditties and the way they crackle in-between waify synthetics and Weezery power-chords.

Thing is, you used to have the worst name ever. Not like, 'ouch, that name sucks.' More like, 'There's no way I can even bring myself to write that in an article with my name on it'. It's so bad that we're not even gonna sully your potentially rebirthed legacy by mentioning it here... Let's just say: two syllables, first syllable rhymes with 'spa', second syllable rhymes with 'clucker'. It's all over the Myspace if anyone's really that interested.

But you changed it! Yey! So as a form of virtual sneaky thumbs-up and a wink, here's us posting up a video and a download...

Pyramid - 'Medicine'