Birmingham, that murky, grey metropolis. It’s easy to think of everything in the ’second city’ as indistinct and ethereal as a cloud of smoke, a no-man’s land slap bang in the middle of the country, not far enough south to have a snobby art streak, not northern enough to have that quintessential soul; just stuffed of kids filling their heads with dreams of London

Then moves on to to a pretty creditable look at the city’s music scene. Would be nice if there were people in the city writing this sort of stuff regularly but, if there are, I’ve not found em.

(Via Digbeth is Good)