Imagine pop music being a weird housing estate where some roads are lined with gold and others are flowing with sewerage. There you’ll find everything from small two bedroom Victorian terraces (Sam Smith has just been given his key and moved in after initially shacking up on Disclosure’s sofa) to mansions (mainly owned by Beyoncé) with extravagant marbled floored basement swimming pools.
It’s on the streets of this estate where the homeless pop people and pop wannabees also lurk. Some were once comfortable in standard three bedroom semis but have now been kicked out after failing to pay the rent / mortgage and are now having to self-build their own (they call them Kickstarter and Pledge houses), whilst others are sleeping rough trying to find a door or even a window to sneak through. It’s impossible for everyone to get through these windows or doors, often the landlords of pop only keep them open for very short spaces of time.
It’s why Florrie is somewhat an anomaly, having been bashing on them for a number of years, never finding them fully closed, but as yet not having prised one open enough to get her own pad.
2014 finds Florrie once again trying to rip the shutters apart. She returns with Seashells, a song from her new Sirens EP. It booms and bounds along with Bollywood instrumentation, repeated tongue twister repeated chanted lyrics and plenty of door kicking enthusiasm, which works rather well. Maybe there’s still a chance of her finding a place.
Florrie - Seashells
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