That Was the Song of the Week That Was

Friday 2nd December

2011-12-01T17:41:00.006Z

That's it. The big rush at work is over. Now it's time to kick back and enjoy the winter.

It's a season I love, and one that transforms the surrounding countryside into a blissful idyll. There's many a good walk to take on, either round the local marshland or across the fields to the areas where the deer roam. This time last year, the fields were covered in a foot of snow and I took a walk. I was a great moment, although it was absolutely knackering.

There were some great songs that day. The Lark by Kate Rusby and Moby's Wait for Me being just two.

However, there was one song that stood out from all the others. The album had only been released a month, so I was just getting used to it, but with the Bees you're rarely disappointed.

It's really beyond me why they aren't more popular. But anyway, that's nothing to do with me - back to the song.

Free the Bees is a properly outstanding album, with at least seven brilliant songs. Sunshine Hit Me and Octopus are also well worth owning. Last year, the Isle of Wight collective released their fourth album, Every Step's a Yes.

Even from just the first three songs I knew I loved it. I Really Need Love and Winter Rose are brilliant, but it is track three I'm obsessed with this week.

Music to me can be seasonal. For instance, at the first sign of summer I crack out the Nick Drake, winter is good for folk and other relaxing stuff.

However, Silver Line fits into all seasons. Listen to it and you can imagine lying on a sun-drenched field as shards of sunlight drift through the sky. Likewise, you can imagine yourself walking through the snow-covered fields. Either way, it'll make you happy.

Listen to it, love it.

Friday 25th November

2011-11-28T16:51:00.003Z

This is it - the arse end of November. This is when work gets tough. Well, as tough as my work gets. It's the time of weekend work, overtime every day and the monster night shifts.

And what for? Essentially it's so people can find out what time the Christmas edition of Strictly Come Dancing is on. Yup, that's right...

But it's not actually the work that I mind, I quite enjoy it. It gives me a sense that we're actually doing something important. Judge for yourself whether that's the case, but I expect I could guess the answer.

The thing that bothers me is - dare I say it - the people. All I want to do is crack on with my work and do it in something that resembles peace. I don't want to have to overhear a 20 minute rambling story about someone pinching someone's hat and then giving it them back. How can such a story be five times longer than the actual event yet with zero percent of the interest?

Yes, the hours are long and, due to the time of year, it's rare to see daylight. But give me that any day over hearing some goliath 15 metres away waffle on about the mountain of food it's consumed since it was last at work. Believe me, it takes quite some time to trot out that list.

Essentially, what I'm saying is I'm a grouch. I make no bones about that. Do away with open-plan offices and box me in a small room. I'll be happy there.

I might even be able to think of a song that isn't this:

Friday 18th November

2011-11-20T12:26:00.003Z

Does ecstasy actually work? Probably, but that's by the by. The reason I ask is that some acid house/rave songs seem to make me joyously happy despite being stone-cold sober.

This week's track is one of them. In fact, it's surely one of the best and most uplifting songs ever.

I'd known this song many, many years ago - back in the early 90s when I used to go round to a friend's house and listen to her older brother's vinyls. It was a good collection. Off the top of my head, I remember Insomniak by DJPC, Mr Roy's Saved, and later he had Smashing Pumpkins and Beck. But there was one I'd always come back to...

However, the years passed and I became more familiar with a different version of the song. That was, until last year when I rediscoverd it - somewhat fortunately. As Primal Scream were playing Glastonbury this year just gone, I was looking for some of their old stuff that had perhaps passed me by.

That's when I rediscovered the Terry Farley mix of Come Together. And Jesus, it's good.

When they came onto stage at Glastonbury, I was tucking in to some noodles. So there I was, dancing to Movin' On Up with a box of noddles in my hand. But things were going to get much better, somehow. Later on, with a carton of wine in my hand, the band merged Wetherall and Farley's versions of Come Together. It was fantastic, but it was Farley's part that really got me.

I've listened to it many a time since, but it was the other day that really brought it on home. Listening to music in the shower, I felt tired and bored of work. Then it came on and really brightened up my day. It's that good that it'd even make a brilliant wedding song.

There's one curious thing about it though - why the hell is it not on YouTube?

Anyway, here it is. Enjoy.

Friday 4th November

2011-11-04T17:40:00.004Z

A very melancholy song for a very melancholy week. The nights are drawing in; the weather is definitely autumnal (about time); and I'm drawn back to a song from an old favourite.

It's also a song that reminds me of someone I knew at university. I don't think I'll reveal her name, she'll remain anonymous...as the song isn't very complimentary - it's Jens Lekman's Psychogirl. A beautiful song still maintaining the wry humour the Swede is renowned for.

It's not an easy subject matter to make light of and Lekman doesn't. However, there are definitely brief moments that bring a smile to the old face. Perhaps it's the delivery.

I really can't explain how similar this song is to my experience. The first verse, apart from the post office bit, is virtually spot-on. It's quite unfortunate that this is the only song that I can truly relate to!

Oh, and don't worry, it's not eight minutes long, it's only five. Listen and feel as content as I am....

Friday 28th October

2011-10-30T15:30:00.003Z

Not sure where this one came from, apart from being a much-loved song from my teenage years. However, one of the final lines in the song realy seemed quite appropriate.

Again, I'm not entirely sure why. There's no reports in the news of mass racial unrest, even if it does appear to be simmering under at the moment.

The lines in question read "So go ahead and label me/An asshole cause I can/Accept responsibility, for what I've done/But not for who I am". I think it sums up how to solve a lot of potential problems in this day and age. Too many times we hear the phrases 'bloody Americans' or 'bloody Poles, stealing our jobs' and things such as those. But these generalisations are often as wrong as they are idiotic.

For instance, was it every American's decision to go to war in Iraq? No. Sure, some may have wanted to, but it was only the nation's leaders who had the ultimate decision. As the many protests in London revealed, it wasn't the UK's desire to enter the conflict either, yet we still did.

Likewise, why are Polish workers wrong for upping sticks and searching for work to earn a living and support their family? First of all, the generalisation of Eastern Europeans such as Latvians, Lithuanians, Romanians etc as "Poles" really grinds my gears.

Essentially what those lines are saying is, let's judge everyone by their own, personal actions, rather than the actions of people of the same race who have no other relation to each other.

Wise words from the 'clown princes of political punk'. I often wonder if the band's clowning around detracts from their otherwise spot-on messages. Then again, I'm thankful that musicians can be both serious and fun-loving.

The song, as you shall see below, is NOFX's Don't Call Me White.

Friday 21 October

2011-10-21T13:10:00.003+01:00

A "bumper" two-week edition of That Was the Song of the Week That Was this week.

I had something all set for last week, but news came to me that changed that, exciting news. News that I'd often heard before but never believed. Somehow, last week's news seemed more believable.

All I could do was wait.

It was definitely worth the wait. Tuesday's announcement was greeted with sheer delight on my behalf. However, this morning was fraught to say the least. I was right to be worried. Two gigs and 150,000 tickets sold in 14 minutes and I wasn't one of them. Fortunately, a friend was on the ball while I was at work and quickly snapped up some tickets for a third date - this one also selling out frighteningly quickly.

So who am I talking about? If you haven't already guessed, I'll give you a subtle clue...

What was that? The Stone Roses? Well done, you guessed it. Manchester here I come.

Friday 7th October

2011-10-07T10:44:00.003+01:00

James were always a bit of an enigma to me. They were part of the "Madchester" scene, but never struck me as one for some unknown reason.

In 1990, at the age of about 10, I remember first hearing my dad's eponymous Stone Roses album and Kinky Afro plus Step On by the Happy Mondays. I instantly loved them and was a firm fan of Madchester music

But James didn't seem to fit in with these. Shaun Ryder and Ian Brown had a swagger about them (that may be quite an understatement), but Tim Booth seemed to engage more with the listener. Born of Frustration and Sit Down were frequently listened to by me, yet they seemed at odds with the likes of Kinky Afro and I Wanna Be Adored.

Over the next few years I got into the Inspiral Carpets and the Charlatans. These immediately became lumped in with the other great Madchester bands. Tim Burgess had the swagger, while the Carpets had the lollopy music

The other big difference between James and the others was the tender songs. On 1993's Laid album, James took this to a new level. Sometimes is quite upbeat but still loving. Say Something is even more tender.

But the one that eclipses all others is the opening track, Out to Get You. It's a truly beautiful track: heartbreaking and blissful at the same time. It also contains a melodica - something not very common in traditional Madchester songs.

Friday 30th September

2011-10-01T17:08:00.003+01:00

This week has been quite odd musically. There have been many songs popping into my head, but only two that stayed in for any length of time. One of those - Too Much Pressure - has been pipped by a beautiful folk song.

The first version of Raggle Taggle Gypsies I heard was by Jim Moray when he played at my town's venue. It's a song that I instantly liked, but Moray's version isn't the one I've chosen this week.

I've gone for Mad Dog Mcrea's Raggle Taggle Gypsy after hearing it at Glastonbury this year. Despite playing to about ten people (including seven dancing stewards), the performance was such that it became my festival highlight.

It was made more special by the fact I'd stumbled on them by error. I left the Chemical Brothers' set with the intention to watch the Lancashire Hotpots. As is often the case at Glastonbury, time had become a foreign issue to me, so much so that days had also become foreign. It turns out I was a day late for the Hotpots, but did witness Mad Dog Mcrea's set - just me and a young couple waiting for the Beat.

The reason Raggle Taggle Gypsy has taken on an extra significance is because of last night's events. For the past few years, I've joined a group of mates who go away to a different European city on a *ahem* "cultural trip". Since last year, the decision on which city has been made by way of a vote. The 2012 trip's vote was last night. It appears we're going to Bucharest, Romania.

Now, I'm not suggesting all Romanians are gypsies etc, but I do enjoy Roma music and am excited about searching some out which in Bucharest.

While Raggle Taggle Gypsy is definitely not of the Roma genre, it does contain the word gypsy and had been in my head most of the week!

So, please enjoy Mad Dog Mcrea doing Raggle Taggle Gypsy.

23rd September 2011

2011-09-23T13:17:00.004+01:00

Picture the scene, if you will: It's Sunday, 6.45am, and I've just arrived in a European city by train. I've been travelling by train for 19 hours and have had little sleep. I'm by myself in a foreign country and exit the station as dawn is just waking up.

As I leave the beautiful station, I set out for a walk with a rucksack on my back. The first thing that hits me is how warm it is - a pharmacy sign reveals it is already 24degrees. The next thing I notice is that the youth of the city are just leaving the bars. People stagger around with glazed expressions.

I venture into the mammoth square in the centre of the city. There's just me stood in the middle of it as I gaze around. Then, a street sweeping van does balletic movements around where I am.

This happened to me in Toulouse the other Sunday morning. It gave me a beautiful feeling of serenity and set my holiday off to a great start.

What also helped was, as I had left the train, Alone in Kyoto by Air had come on my mp3 player. Not only was I in their country, but I was immediately reminded of a scene from a movie which featured the song.

Unfortunately, I can't embed the video, but please click the link to see Scarlett Johansson milling round Kyoto in Lost in Translation. It's a beautiful scene and very expressive of how I felt that early morning in Toulouse.

Alone in Kyoto

9th September 2011

2011-09-09T13:20:00.003+01:00

I knew this would happen this week. For the past nine months, I've been arranging to go on holiday to a small village near Toulouse, France. The name of the village, Escoussens, lends itself perfectly to a certain song. Add to that the fact I'll be spending 19hours on trains to get there, and it couldn't get any more appropriate.

Thankfully it's a song I like. It could have been much worse: I could have been going somewhere that only me and you know...somewhere "bedshaped". Ugh, perish the thought.

So, from the abomination known as Keane to the Shamen. Seamless.

Yes, LSI, Move Any Mountain and Ebeneezer Goode were...erm...good, but neither of those is my favourite. Destination Eschaton is. You see where I'm coming from now, don't you? Eschaton/Escoussens, they sound similar, no?

Thankfully though, I'll be heading to Escoussens - rather than the end of the known world - and, like it has been for the past week, this song will be my travelling companion.

As they say in la France, amusez-vous.

2nd September 2011

2011-09-02T11:33:00.002+01:00

Many earworms have come and gone this week. Some thankfully, others I have enjoyed. I didn't particularly like This Ole House by Shakin' Stevens, especially when my mind was bastardising the lyrics.

Where there should have been "Ain't got time to fix the shingles, Ain't a-got time to fix the floor, Ain't got time to oil the hinges, Nor to mend no windowpane," I had various other household chores. Ain't got time to sweep the chimney, ain't got time to brush my hair, ain't got time to brush the hedges, nor to reupholster the chair. That kind of stuff. And it went on for a couple of days.

Thankfully it stopped, but one song remained constant.

It all started last week when I was writing a little piece about Toots and the Maytals. During that I was dragged back to last summer. After the now infamous 27-hour road trip to Budapest, me and a friend set up camp for Sziget festival - exhausted and a bit dazed. After a night getting accidentally drunk, it was time for the first day of the festival - a reggae/ska day. Perfect. Acts included the Wailers, Toots and the Maytals and, unfortunately, UB40.

The Wailers came, went and were replaced by Toots. On a gloriously sunny Budapest evening with sand underfoot, it was perfect music. During Bam Bam, I remember looking round me. The sun was just high enough above the trees to add to the serenity afforded by the music.

Awaking from my reverie, I saw Toots were playing Leeds on Fri 2 Sep, and that's where I'm going right now.

Close your eyes while watching the video below and you could be there in the hazy sunshine. Enjoy Bam Bam, I know I will - despite the view in Leeds Academy not being quite as beautiful as that evening in Budapest.

26th August 2011

2011-08-25T22:57:00.004+01:00

There are some weeks when a certain event influences the songs in your head. Other times, a news story could trigger a reaction. Or it could even be something someone has said to you.

This week has not been any of those.

I first heard of the Avett Brothers a few months back when it was rumoured they may have been appearing at Glastonbury. That turned out to be a false dawn. However, it did turn me on to a band I'd previously not heard of.

Brothers Seth and Scott Avett have been making music together since childhood. Has there ever been a more pointless sentence? They are brothers, for god's sake. Anyway, that's what greeted me when I wiki'd them. Praise the lord for Wikipedia. But, it did also tell me that were from North Carolina.

When you look at other music acts from North Carolina - Charlie Daniels, Sparklehorse, Whiskeytown, Ryan Adams - you can understand why my eyes lit up. I don't know why I pay such attention to the geographical factors, but suspect it may have something to do with being born in Greater Manchester.

Anyway, back on to the Avett Brothers. The first song that struck me was Murder in the City, on their Gleam II EP. It's a beautiful acoustic track, and an ode to the family unit. From what little I know so far about the Avett Brothers, the theme of family hangs over them. But they do it nicely, and there is certainly a playfullness about it.

But this week's song is Kick Drum Heart. The thing that struck me most about this, is how percussion and piano works in perfect harmony. It's also a much more up-tempo track than Murder in the City, proving that the Avett Brothers are not a one-trick band. To draw comparisons, I'd liken them to a country-rock version of Mumford and Sons, but they somehow seem more real. Oh, and Seth Avett (I think it is...) has a much more likeable voice than Marcus Mumford.

Here's the song, from the album I and Love and You - the cover of which appears to capture Neil Young's audition for Hamlet.

19th August 2011

2011-08-19T11:22:00.003+01:00

There we were, in a really dark place at silly o'clock and slightly worse for wear. Relying on my hoofhands to try to find this song on Youtube. Predictive text didn't help. I was trying to convince my friend that this was one of the best pop songs ever written.

It could well be true, too. Certainly those at Eurovision 1965 agreed with me - it finished 1st and gave Luxembourg the win.

However, for those not fond of Eurovision or the little duchy, don't despair (although I can't imagine why you wouldn't be fond of either of those - both are excellent).

The partnership of composer Serge Gainsbourg and quintessential ye-ye singer France Gall was never going to be a happy one. Her, a fresh-faced innocent; him, a hard-smoking older man. Many of the works written by Gainsbourg for Gall featured strong sexual innuendo (Les Sucettes for one). The songs were so innuendo-laden, in fact, that Gall refuses to talk about that time in her career.

This song is one of those tracks. Gainsbourg described it thusly: "The songs young people turn to for help in their first attempts at discovering what life and love are about, are sung by people too young and inexperienced to be of much help and condemned by their celebrity to find out".

Poupee de Cire, Poupee de Son itself translates as Doll of Wax, Doll of Bran. However, that is just one interpretation as Son also means sound. It is this wordplay that characterises Gainsbourg's writing and causes the innocent Gall to come across as a Lolita-esque seductress. Her blonde bob, contrasting eyebrows and youthful voice lend to that image too, but it is the rollicking music in the background that really elevates this to greatness, in my eyes.

12th August 2011

2011-08-09T23:58:00.004+01:00

Well, this wasn't supposed to be like this, was it?

What a horrible week us Brits have had to suffer. When the news of rioting in north London first came about, my initial thoughts was 'oh god, this is another Rodney King'. It seems I overestimated my fellow countrymen. As has been the case recently in the UK, what started off as a peaceful protest has swiftly been overtaken my mindless yobs, or "feral youth" as they have been called of late.

Up until this evening, I was proud of my home town of Salford. Despite 'riots' happening in London, Bristol, Birmingham, Liverpool and (bizarrely) Nottingham, they hadn't spread to Greater Manchester. The comments on the Manchester Evening News website seemed to share my view: Manchester don't join in, we're better than this. Unfortunately, as the embarrassing events of Tuesday 9th August showed, that didn't last.

Manchester has had its share of troubles in the past: the race-riots in Moss Side in 1981, the drug wars of the late 80s, the Arndale bomb on 1996. Somehow, the city had grown and improved despite these horrible incidents. It had improved so much that, just months before, the Lonely Planet guide had called Manchester 'truly special'.

A side-annoyance to this petty looting was the patheticness of it all. Manchester is renowned for its gang culture and - without condoning rioting or looting - none of this was on show. Instead, it seemed to be 13-year-old kids on bikes breaking in to Bargain Booze. I suppose I should be glad really, it could've have been much worse.

Anyway, back to the music. There are only a few words to describe the looters. They are lowlives, purely out for their own gain. There's nothing political about their actions, no cause to back them up. They want material goods regardless of the damage to the innocent.

Snuff are a north London punk band, apt seeing as that's where the trouble started. Are the looters arseholes, fuckwits, gobshites, farts in a jar? Yes, they are all of these, whereever they are looting.

Thankfully, Snuff have just the song to soundtrack my inner thoughts whenever I watch the news of late.

5th August 2011

2011-08-03T19:49:00.003+01:00

I'm back, it's been a while.

I've decided to regress to my original idea and put up the song I've had in my head all week. It certainly should be easier on me to do it this way - I'll reserve judgement on the impact on you...

So, where to start my new(ish) adventure? Well, as is often the case with the start of topics, this week has been an easy choice.

The album version of Robyn's Be Mine isn't really my thing - it's uptempo pop, and the short stabs of violin remind me of music that was endemic in turn-of-the-century clubs and bars.

However, the stripped down version is beautiful. It takes on a whole new personality. Instead of the forthright angst of the album track, we hear a mournful Robyn. It's this change of attitude that helps Be Mine transcend from Friday night background music to emotionally charged enchanter. The Swede's voice and solo piano really captivate so much more than a drum machine and allow Robyn's words to strike a chord with the listener.

It might not radically change your life, but it'll make you pleased you heard it.

Week 28 - Half Man, Half Rock Musician

2010-05-19T00:01:00.006+01:00

Okay, so I've been away for a few weeks now. Soz, like.

The thing is, I've had a few technical problems. Technically, I've been pissed since late March. But now I'm back on the reasonably straight and narrow.

I've also wondered what the hell to write about, but, as has been mentioned in previous blogs, it's now a good time to unleash the beast that is Half Man Half Biscuit.

These Wirral lads should be our national musicians. They sing about all things British and their lyrics reflect that. Whether they are singing about "thin men, bin men" or "Zeal Monochorum", Nigel Blackwell's voice presides over all matter of brilliance.

It's hard to contain them to one subject, as I learnt from my first acquaintance with HMHB. It was thanks to Mark and Lard's Cheesily Cheerful Chart Challenge that I got to know and love the Wirral wordsters. Almost every day they'd be featured, mainly because they had a song and a lyric for every subject.

I once got mentioned on the show. They had a subject about Laurence Llewelyn Bowen and how he pretended to be gay to get girls. I suggested a cod-punk song by The Griswolds called Let's Pretend We're Gay. It was on your actual Radio One. Ace.

Anyway, back to HMHB. The first set of Half Man Half Biscuit songs I'm going to use is one about fellow musicians.

I have to admit, it's quite coincidental that the three songs I've chosen are some of my (many) favourites by HMHB.

First up is a parody song (more of those later). Any song that starts with "Give me Love, give me Can, give me Meatloaf" is good by me. The fact its bridge goes "Michael Ball or the Fall, I could listen to them all, in the twilight or the afternoon" only makes it better.

Irk the Purists is a parody of the religious Sing Hosanna and sings about a matter quite close to my heart.

As you will know from previous blogs, I really don't care if songs are cool or not - I like them if I like them! In Irk the Purists HMHB sing the names of random bands (some good, some not so) in the spirit that I have just mentioned. They don't care what the preconceptions are, they just enjoy good music.

The chorus (to the tune of Black Lace's Agadoo) is amazing: "Husker Du, Du, Du, Captain Beefheart, ELO, Chris De Burgh, Sun-Ra, Del Amitri, John Coltrane". Pick the bones out of that!

Next up is one of the first songs to get me into HMHB. It's a song about finding a tape my the Strokes guitarist's dad. Ironically, I quite like this guy's major song. It's a track called It Never Rains in Southern California, and is a lovely country-pop song from the 1970s.

However, HMHB suggest that having a track by this guy is an obsenity. In the song (live in this version), the man comes home to be greeted by his kids on the patio. They are warning him of a tape that's inside his house. It is, of course, an Albert Hammond Bootleg. The curious thing is, is it appears to have been brought in by a man claiming to be a former head of the FA - Stanley Rouse. The HMHB song is great though - no matter how much I love It Never Rains in Southern California (although I remember listening to Hammond's track in my LA hotel room, while it pissed itself outside. The rotter).

Finally, is a folk song about some of the 1980s chart hi-risers. Well, maybe not, but it's Climie Fisher. Oh yes.

This is a stone-cold beautiful track about the (made-up) resentment between the duo. In the track, it is claimed that the latter went on to gain a research job in the BBC and Climie went into the gravel business.

The twist is that Fisher has a hatred of gravel (and shale). The oomph of the track comes when Climie does an interview with a mixed aggregate magazine in which he criticises Fisher for a lack of recognition in their music career.

The fun starts when Fisher reads this article and swears revenge. Enjoy The Ballad of Climie Fisher here.

Anyway, next up is probably more HMHB, although I do have some other irons in fires, so who knows.

Irk the Purists.
Albert Hammond Bootleg
Ballad of Climie Fisher

Week 27 - You'd better rise up Janet Weiss. Sorry, I mean Jesus Christ...

2010-04-05T17:14:00.004+01:00

So this is Easter, and what have you done? Another fiscal year over and a new one just begun.

I think I may have just realised why festive songs mainly stick to Christmas. Easter songs just haven't taken off, have they? In spite of that, I'm going to write about three songs pertaining to this time of year - or at least have a bloody good go at it.

The first one is a 1974 glam rock hit from the British act Mott the Hoople. It's from their album entitled The Hoople, a follow up to, yep you've guessed it, Mott. Most people associate Ian Hunter's crew with the smash hit version of Bowie's All the Young Dudes, but they did do some other quality tracks, namely All the Way from Memphis and this one, Roll Away the Stone. You see, it does have something to do with Easter, as Jesus had to do what Mott say to escape from the cave.

Before I go on to the next one, some of the others I could have chosen for this would have been Mumford and Sons' The Cave, but apart from its title, it has very little to do with the Easter story of Christ. Likewise Belly's Judas Mon Coeur and Easy Star All Star's version of Radiohead's Airbag. The latter, I was going to use for the line 'I am back to save the universe', but I usually think they sing 'I am back to save the Univac', so I decided against that.

But anyway, onwards. I wouldn't say I'm particularly a fan of John Lydon. I don't mind the Sex Pistols, but they weren't a patch on the Clash or other contemporaries. I don't even like Public Image Ltd much either. Their This Is Not a Love Song grates on me. However, I do like the one I've chosen here.

What happened at Easter? Well, as far as I remember, Christ was locked in a cave, rolled away a stone and rose again - the resurrection.

So, we've had the rolling away of the stone and naturally this Public Image song comes next. It's called Rise and is pretty good, all the previous stuff considered.

No prizes for guessing the final song, especially if you've read the paragraph in which I recount the story of Easter. Also no prizes as it'd be really hard to dish them out.

This is a monster of a song. I've written about the album this comes from in the first part of my 10 top albums of the past 30 years. It's a song that separated the Stone Roses from their contemporaries. Full of self belief and that typical Manchester swagger, it comes in at over 8 minutes. There are radio edits out there, but the full version is true quality. Of course, it's I Am the Resurrection.

Enjoy and hope you had a joyeux paques.

Week 26 - Up, Up and Away

2010-03-19T00:14:00.009Z

So, here I am. I'm just a few hours before leaving for, what I consider, impending doom. I really don't believe that flying is this dangerous, but wouldn't it be fun and ever-so delightful if this was the last message to the 'world'*?! *By world, I mean the two or three people who read this!

But, on the other hand, this blog could serve as hope to poor fliers such as myself.

This is the recipe for success, or failure if it all goes a bit Pete Wrong.

First of all: I went to an Italian wine tasting evening. That was great, some beautiful whites and reds. Then there was a quiz where the first prize was a bottle of Italian red. Myself and two friends (Steve and Jim) acted as a team and, bizarrely, won. So, we drunk said bottle.

As I'm setting off from my home at 8.15am and flying at 2.45pm (with 2 hours' drinking time at the airport - Stansted), I decided to partake in a few Italian beers - Peroni. This is all part of my manic masterplan: Get drunk, wake up early - tired, then drink some more at the airport, planning to be so tired and leathered by the time I get on the plane that I won't even notice it's setting off. Perfect!

My back-up plan, however, is the tried and tested method of music.

I have a couple of certain songs that see me through a flight. They are quite unusual, but it seems to work for me. I've been told they are overly morbid, but what the hey!

The first (and newest, in terms of success) is a cracking tune that really inspires me because of a movie scene. Oddly, it's the end of Fight Club. Edward Norton realises he's Tyler Durden (oops, SPOILER alert, maybe a bit too late, mind). He's sat in a tower block, with half of his brain shot out and there's the Pixies' Where Is My Mind playing in the background. If that's not cerebral, and at peace with death, I don't know what is.

Next is one of the best voices in music. Ever. I was tempted to make a whole blog about the most beautiful voices in song. I still may do. However, Hope Sandoval has it tied up. She was the vocalist in the early 90s' band Mazzy Star. There are so many gorgeous songs, but Fade into You is just lovely. I can almost imagine myself falling from a plane and singing this - with a smile on my face! Check out the singing though, how awesome is that?!

Finally, and the only one that is proven to make me happy while the plane is setting off, is this kind of twisted track. By itself, it's very much an old-fashioned spiritual, but made with very modern instruments and vocals. Spiritualized's Lord Let It Rain on Me contains the lyrics 'Lord let it rain on me, let it all come down. I'll sell my soul to let it roll, and I'm about ready now". That pretty much sums up how I wish to be at one with mortality, as does the slow beat at the start.

I'd love to think this helped nervous flyers. For all I know it may put them off to...erm...billy-o. Who knows, I could end up here next week describing something else. Let's hope so, eh? But this is, I hope, an insight into what I'd like to believe is a stream-of-consciousness blog.

Maybe it could be prophetic, or maybe just pathetic. Ah well, we'll see!

Week 25 - The Final Curtain

2010-03-15T17:19:00.003Z

I'm going on a long-weekend break in a few days and, as I'm a bit of a poor flyer, my mind has turned to mortality. There's a cheery thought, eh?

As such I've been hastily planning my funeral. Well not really, that's a bit too much (hopefully). However, I have come up with a few songs I think would be great to be played at such an event.

I thought I'd got this sown up years ago with Pearl Jam's Alive, Reef's Come Back Brighter and Harold Melvin's If You Don't Know Me by Now. They are quite comical and would probably be better suited to a TV show or film. I certainly think there is a place for rye humour at funerals.

The humour is evident in my first two choices.

First up is a track from a guy who, I've just found out, spent most of his childhood in Knaresborough, North Yorkshire, despite being from Maryland, USA. Famous for his lo-fi sound, Bill Callahan is Smog. He's responsible for some great tracks, Cold Blooded Old Times and Let's Move to the Country being two. However, it's from his 2000 album, Dongs of Sevotion, that my first track is from.

Dress Sexy at My Funeral by Smog is a hell-raising plea from beyond the grave from Callahan to his wife. The title gives away pretty much all you need to know, but the lyrics are as good as you'd hope. He instructs the widow to dress provocatively and flirt with the minister, and to speak about their love-making. Towards the end he sings: "Also tell them about how I gave to charity, and tried to love my fellow man as best I could. But most of all don't forget about the time on the beach."

I love the idea of the next song being chosen by a supposedly grieving widow/widower. It's quite a cheery song as it is, but if you put it in the context of a funeral, it takes on a really twisted meaning.

I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better by the Byrds is the Californian folk/pop/rockers at their best. It's impossible to listen to this without smiling. The chorus takes the title and adds a couple of key words: I'll probably feel a whole lot better, when you're gone.

Finally, a true funeral song. It's brilliant. What's not to like about folk, cricket and a morbid subject such as death?!

Manchester-born singer-songwriter Roy Harper is something of a one-off. There are few contemporary folk musicians who can claim to have inspired Led Zeppelin - most of their inspiration came from dead American bluesmiths...and Jake Holmes. Harper is also the lead vocalist on Pink Floyd's Have a Cigar. He's also no stranger to humour - Exercising Some Control is a laugh riot about the scrapes a man got up to with his dog, called Some Control.

But his masterpiece is When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease. It's full of cricketing puns about death. It conjures up beautiful imagery of hazy English summer days, with the faint thud of cork on willow. It's also incredibly contemplative and sad, but there's something in the lyrics that, no matter how depressing the underlying message, always leaves me with a slight smile. That's also how funerals should be, I think.

Week 24 - Ode to Humberside

2010-02-26T11:15:00.004Z

A cheeky little blog this week. It's pretty much a way to crowbar a new discovery into it. But anyway, let's carry on with the charade as usual!

Although I was born in the north-west, I've grown up what was previously known as Humberside, which encompassed what are now the snappily titled East Riding of Yorkshire, North Lincolnshire and North-East Lincolnshire. Humberside covered from Bridlington in the north to Grimsby in the south, from Goole in the west to, erm, Withernsea in the east. Two of those towns will feature later on...

But first up is a town that I grew to know and like when I worked there for 18 months a few years ago. Known ironically as Sunny Scunny, it's a steel town and quite often the butt of jokes. It's actually quite a nice group of towns. The first song is from a comedy punk band from Sunderland renowned for their chart smash in which they regaled the story of a elephant who packed her truck and said goodbye to the circus. The elephant's name was Nellie. Trump, trump, trump.

This song, whoever, is a parody of the Charlie Daniels country classic The Devil Went Down to Georgia. The Toy Dolls altered the title. Hear it here: The Toy Dolls - The Devil Went Down to Scunthorpe.

Next, we head to the coast and the old harbour town to the north of Humberside. This track is bizarre. It's beautiful, but I can't figure out how the hell this title came about! It's by John Darnielle and Mountain Goats. Bear in mind they're from North Carolina, how did they come to write a song that references a small town on England's east coast?! Enjoy it here: The Mountain Goats - Going to Bridlington. I love the line 'the moon was rising over Bridlington and you had blood all over your hands'.

Finally, from a small harbour town to the centre of the fishing industry - and back south of the Humber. I wasn't looking for this track when I found it, but by Christ I was happy I did! He's not everyone's cup of tea, but he's defnitely no Phil Collins. Thankfully. From his glam-rock ditties, accompanied by outrageous glasses, this guy has also had one of (if not the) biggest ever singles - the saccharine ode to Diana, Princess of Wales. I'm sure everyone will agree that if he can write a song about her, the least he could do is write one about Grimsby...!

Thankfully he has. Off his 1974 album Caribou - the one that contained The Bitch Is Back and Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me - is a track called simply Grimsby. There are too many great lyrics to quote, but my favourite two are: 'Oh England you're fair, but there's nothing to compare with my Grimsby', and 'Take me back to your rustic town, I miss your magic charm. Just to smell your candy floss, or drink in the Skinners Arms'.

Hear it and love it here: Elton John - Grimsby.

Week 23 - Freaky Laughter

2010-02-23T18:03:00.007Z

After the seriousness of the past few weeks, I'm going to get a bit more light-hearted in this blog.

I'll be combining two of my favourite genres which I didn't think went well together. Until I thought about it. Those two genres are comedy songs and psychedelia.

I like humourous tracks, be they downright silly or those that contain lyrics to make you smile. However, I also like psychedelia - in particular mellow, trippy psyche. So yeah, why shouldn't there be some songs that fit into both categories?!

Thankfully there are a few, otherwise this blog would be thankfully short.

When you think of comedy songs from the psychedelia era, you probably think of the Bonzos or the Rutles - Neil Innes at least! So did I. However, arguably the Bonzos' best psyche track, Keynsham, isn't particularly 'comedy' - apart from the ending: "Tell me more about Keynsham.... 'I don't want to talk about it'". Probably the finest purveyors of the chanson comedie are Half Man Half Biscuit (surely, more on those in a forthcoming blog). Again though, they don't really touch psychedelia, prefering to stick to indie, folk and post-punk.

The comedy song genre has been ridiculed in the past - quite rightly in many circumstances - but in the past 15 years or so, it has seen a revival. A couple of TV shows and some Radio 1 DJs have overseen this. Don't worry folks, the DJs don't include Chris Moyles.

Those DJs were the original (and best) saviours of the breakfast show - Mark and Lard. I was never a fan of Radio 1, but these two were a huge reason to listen to it. Their afternoon show was simply a must-listen-to, packed full of nonsense segments and good music. Lard, who was a one-time member of Mark E Smith's The Fall, and Mark Radcliffe, who had spent many years trying to gig round the Manchester area, formed a 'band' - The Shirehorses.

The premise of The Shirehorses was simple enough. They were the true creators of contemporary hits and the acts that had seen chart success with the tracks had ripped them off: John Squire's Seahorses being a rip off of The Shirehorses, and the former's hit, Love Is the Law (containing the lyric 'now we know where we're going, baby') being a rip off of the latter's Now We Know Where We're Going, Our Kid. Both The Shirehorses albums are worth getting, indeed the second one (Our Kid Eh?, which was later 'ripped-off' by Radiohead) contains a brilliant spoof of Eminem's Stan, called Tony.

But it's from the first album that my first track is taken from. Sir John Mills begat Hayley Mills who, in turn, begat the lead singer of Kula Shaker - the leaders of the 1990s' Indian psyche revival. Actually, they were the only ones in it, weren't they? Kula Shaker had a hit called Tattva. But, according to The Shirehorses, they had a similar song first! Judge for yourself - here's The Shirehorses doing Ta La. It involves the duo mucking around with sitars, so that's a good start, and also contains the lyrics: 'Shall we take a pilgrimage to our spiritual Mecca, oh bollocks to it let's have curry and rice'. Brilliant.

Next up, an all-consuming cult (I said cult, I wasn't on about Chris Moyles again) TV show. I stumbled upon The Mighty Boosh when it was still being shown late at night on BBC3. I couldn't believe the BBC had commissioned it, it was hilarious, surreal and had bizarre but good songs.

Noel Fielding and Julian Barrett's show originally saw two zoo keepers getting up to all manner of odd scrapes, but in the second series they moved in with their shaman friend, Naboo, in Dalston, north London. Barrett's character, Howard Moon, is a pretentious oaf who is convinced he's a jazz supremo and adventurer.

It's in his guise as the latter that the crew visit the wilderness. Howard is desperate to photograph the yeti, but he gets entranced by them, leaving Fielding's Vince Noir, Naboo and his familiar, a gorilla called Bollo, to save him from 'yeti magic'. See how that goes here - The Mighty Boosh, Yeti Magic.

There's some similarities between the Boosh and the next lot. Fans of each seem to put themselves firmly in one camp or the other. Why?! I'm a fan of both. Just because something you've been waiting for has finally happened twice, why just like one of them?

You've probably guessed who I'm on about. This lot are a duo from New Zealand. In fact, they billed themselves as New Zealand's 4th most popular guitar-based digi-bongo acapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo. I think the main difference between the Boosh and Flight of the Conchords is that the latter started off with the comedy songs and then went into television.

In the show, Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie are two innocents abroad. They've gone to New York in search of fame and fortune, but have found it hard to come by - largely thanks to the incompetence of their manager Murray (the excellent Rhys Darby). Like I said, they are quite innocent, which segues quite nicely into details of the next song.

At a gig, the duo are wooed by two hot girls and go back to their flat. Bret is given an acid tab, but only swallows a tiny amount. However, this has an effect on him and we get to see his velvet-clad psyche alter-ego: The Flight of the Conchords - Prince of Parties. I love sitar in psyche, and the reversed loops are great too. I've had a certain bit of this in my head all week, the bit where it goes a little like this (hit it): 'Rava shalank a lank a Ravi Shankar'.

Enjoy!

Magic Crazy as This – a Valentine’s Special

2010-02-12T21:15:00.003Z

February 14: a date that’s in the heart of everyone - especially those in the greeting card and floristry industries. But this isn’t a snide sneer at St Valentine’s Day. It’s aimed at showing, musically at least, there’s more to romance than Whitney Houston, Celine Dion and Steve Wright’s Sodding Love Songs.

I’m sure I’ve already stated my dislike for the trilling shriek of Houston. To me, anyway, that’s not romance, that’s the result of 15 years’ spent locked in a room with only a Chihuahua and a rubber mallet. Maybe an egg and cress sandwich too, in one of those triangular plastic packets.

Anyway, I’ve managed to narrow down my favourite ‘romantic’ songs to just three. Tracks like The Beatles’ I Need You and Ed Harcourt’s Apple of My Eye miss out, but that’s the kind of stuff I’m on about, rather than the latest jazz vocalist to rip the remaining soul out of Have I Told You Lately.

Quite appropriately, the first track is Bright Eyes’ First Day of My Life. I went to a wedding last year and they played You & Me by the Wannadies as they left the church. A good choice I thought as it was lively and everyone left with a smile on their face. However, I’d forgotten about this track. I can’t think of anything better as you leave the church than this. “This is the first day of my life, swear I was born right in the doorway”. You know, like the doorway of the church. Good, eh?

Another motif that runs through my choices is odd lyrics. Bright Eyes uses the line: “These things take forever, I especially am slow”. Not particularly hilarious or mind-blowingly prophetic, but I like it. Having said that, it’s no: “I sing bad poetry in to your machine”.

Nice segue, eh? Yeah, that’s right. My next choice is REM’s At My Most Beautiful. At the time this song (and album, Up) totally passed me by. It's a fine line between romantic and creepy and REM tread that line expertly in this. If you take the song to be the start to a successful courtship of a person, it's a lovely track. However, if the wooing failed, it was probably because Stipe was perceived to be stalking the object of his affections!

Thankfully I choose to believe the former and the line “I’ve found a way to make you smile” is lovely. It also backs up my theory.

Finally, it’s my favourite romantic song. It’s one that I’d like to be my first dance if I were to get married. Nick Drake’s Northern Sky is beautiful and kind of revolves around a pre-nuptial agreement: “Would you love me for my money,
Would you love me for my head,
Would you love me through the winter,
Would you love me 'til I'm dead.
Oh, if you would and you could,
Come blow your horn on high.”

However, the first verse is the one that gets me:

“Never saw magic crazy at this,
Never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea,
Never held emotion in the palm of my hand,
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree.
But now you're here,
Bright in my northern sky.”

It’s poetic and never has a more beautiful song ever been written.

Happy Valentine’s Day, I feel quite touched.

30 Years, the Final Part

2010-02-10T11:43:00.007Z

This is it then. My top three albums of the past 30 years. Like I said at the start, these may not be the most influential or the most well known, but they are the three that I can put on at any time and enjoy. I also said I was quite surprised by the results, and I stand by that!

First up is Wish We Never Met by The Gadjits. They were a ska punk-ish band (with a touch of rockabilly) from Kansas who, through differences and a lack of recognisable success, have split up - which is a shame. Their sound is underpinned by a quality organ and lead singer Zach's brilliant voice. The subject matters revolve around the seedy underbelly of midwestern life.

The first time I came across them was on a compilation album from Hellcat Records, founded by Rancid's Tim Armstrong. On that was the brilliant Bad GaDJit. This is a great starting point when trying to discover the Gadjits.

In Angel and a Devil they sing about the choices you make when growing up with regards to drugs. It's also a track that conjures up memories of Sublime, with cool guitars and rhythm.

A cheeky track is Manuhkin, which seems to be about having sex with a blow-up doll with the faces of famous people grafted on to it. It's quite tender, but always with a glint in its eye.

There's so many good songs on here that it was so hard to pick out just three. Somebody's Wife, Outsider and Cowboys Always Win are rollicking, organ-heavy tracks; Carnival Sense is a rock 'n' roll-style fun track; and Jenny Jones (Leave the Death Rock Kids Alone) is a choral ribbing of US chat shows like Montel and, obviously, Jenny Jones, that see a teen dressed differently and automatically presume they're evil.

Do try to get this album, it's just pure enjoyability. And cool as hell.

I mentioned Tim Armstrong in the Gadjits' write-up, and he's back here in my second favourite album.

Rancid are often compared to The Clash, which is praise of the highest order. However, in the self-titled album and And Out Come the Wolves, they were White Riot era Clash. They didn't seem to have anything to suggest they could come up with a Sandinista or London Calling.

How wrong that assumption was.

Life Won't Wait is a full blown punk classic. While contemporaries NOFX were goofing around (brilliantly, I may add!) and Green Day seemed to be going faux-political, Rancid went serious - and it paid off massively.

Not that you'd know from the start. The Intro is straight from the early albums and could easily be pinched from Rats in the Hallway. Bloodclot is a 'hey-ho' thunderbolt, but again, not radically different.

Hoover Street signals that something new is going on here. It's polished, political and powerful. There's plenty of quieter sections to hear Armstrong's lyrics about Salvadorian immigrants living in dire conditions. The chorus is basic, to say the least, but it works. Black Lung lets the listener know that new inspirations have been sought. This album was partially recorded in Jamaica, where the band struck up a friendship with ragga/dancehall star Buju Banton (who features on some tracks). The mix of these styles takes this album to a new level. Despite not being a particular fan of Banton's style, I really love the result.

Rancid? Ragga? Revolution? Perfect! The title track, Life Won't Wait is simply stunning. It mixes ska, ragga and punk to such a degree that it even outshines stuff by The Specials. It was co-written by Rancid with Banton and The Slackers' Vic Ruggiero and features Banton singing in a few verses. It's just sublime and very danceable too. This is a call to every musician - more of this kind of stuff please!

New Dress is a beautifully political song, with kicks. Lyrically it's involved with the break down of Yugoslavia and how the West helped in the independence of those states. However, with independence, the West also brought capitalism to unstable economies and countries, so the result leaves confused youngsters in Nike shoes and what-have-you in a new war-torn nation. Warsaw also offers a view on the rapid spread of capitalism to eastern Europe.

Think of Rancid and there's no chance you'd think of this next track. Crane Fist features rinky-tinky piano a la Jools Holland and samples. Don't take my word about it though, listen to it yourself.

Despite me saying this is a rapid departure from form, Rancid show they still can rock in the style to which their original fans were accustomed. The likes of Leicester Square, Lady Liberty and The Wolf are pure punk - power chords and raucous, soaring choruses. The latter being one of my favourites, rivalling The Clash's White Riot and NOFX's The Brews.

For a 22-track album, it flies by in a flash (well, 60mins) and I'm struggling to think of a track I don't like. Life Won't Wait was released in June 1998. So was 5ive's album. Christ.

Next up is my favourite album. Woo! This was one of the easiest choices I've made. I could probably tell you this decision in my sleep. Quite out of character - especially considering my past nine choices - this band are my favourite. Uncoincidentally, it also contains my favourite song.

It's Levelling the Land by the Levellers from 1991. It kicks off with the anthemic One Way and also contains Liberty Song. There are also a few political songs such as Another Man's Cause, which reveals the futility of war, particularly the Falklands, and how it's the soldiers and their family are most effected, not the decision-makers.

First up for my choices is the campfire-tastic Boatman. It really speaks to me as it's my ideal live, a rover, a boatman and whatever. Plus I love the campfire singalong style of it, but more of that later.

My next choice is another campfire singalong blast, apart from mishearing 'weir' and 'wee'. Have a listen to it - Far from Home. Again the imagery conjured up really appeals to me - a nice, honest life on the road.

The last song on the album tells the not-so-glamourous side of being a traveller. It's a true tale too, and incredibly heart-breaking and anger inducing. The Battle of the Beanfield was a real event in 1985 as a convoy of travellers converged on Stonehenge for a free festival. The police tried their hardest to stop them, laying down exclusion zones and roadblocks. What resulted was disgraceful, view the unedited ITN footage here. The Levellers' song narrates brilliantly.

My final song is a lot more cheerful, it's about the fearlessness of youth. Drinking and smoking and taking 'a drink of the Rev Jimmy Jones' and setting 'the table for the barber Sweeney Todd'. It's The Riverflow and easily my favourite song of, well, ever I think. Upbeat, rollicking and pleasantly lairy.

So there it is, I've quite enjoyed it.

30 Years, part two

2010-02-03T12:07:00.005Z

So, here we are. Another week, another run-down of my top 10 albums from the past 30 years. Last time I told you of the first four in chronological order, and I'll carry on in that vein - for this one anyway.

Onwards, but staying in 1997 with one of the coolest bands of the era.

Taking inspiration from the Velvet Underground amongst others, the Dandy Warhols were arguably America's most successful band of the BritPop era as their sound fit in perfectly. However, their suave and occassionally humourous outlook saw them stand heads and shoulders above most of the other artsy bands.

The Dandy Warhols Come Down is their best album. It starts of with the monsterous shoegaze track Be-In, but really kicks in with the fabulous Boys Better. With a rollicking backing and excellent keyboard riff, this tune could go on for ages before I get bored of it.

The Dandies really got noticed over here in the UK when Not If You Were the Last Junkie on Earth got plenty of airplay. The chorus of 'heroin is so passé' really caught the ear of many fans. As did the anthemic Everyday Should Be a Holiday.

With songs like Minnesoter, I Love You and the somewhat controversially titled Hard On for Jesus, Come Down is a quality album, but it's a song about another idol of theirs that really takes this into my top 10. Pixies bassist Kim Deal was an idol to most indie rock kids of that era, she just exuded cool, and their song Cool as Kim Deal saw them take a sideswipe at the posturing indie rocker scenesters: 'I'd rather be cool than be smart', 'I'd rather be cool than be loved', 'Just wanna girl as cool as Kim Deal'. It's a bit of a weird message considering many of their fans would be those that they were having a dig at!

As you'll have noticed, the word 'cool' has featured prominently in this. Quite rightly too, the Dandies are cool, they conjure up images of bohemian apartments in Greenwich Village.

I was listening to Guy Garvey's excellent 6Music show the other week and he played a song by the next band. He said that if you didn't have their debut album, you were missing out. He's right. Sunshine Hit Me by the Isle of Wight's The Bees is excellent - certainly considering it was recorded in a shed.

However, their follow-up album was recorded in the slightly plusher Abbey Road Studios. It's no less good though, in fact it's better. The songs on 2004's Free the Bees are, to a track, brilliant.

It's hard to pick just three songs from this, but I'm going to give it a blast. The trouble is, the styles are quite radically different. There's the fun freakout of Chicken Payback; the Beastie Boys-ish organ-tastic Russian; the trucking Wash in the Rain; a garage rock blast in No Atmosphere; the hazy meander of Go Karts and others.

But the three I'm going to include start with the first track. Beginning with a garage rock version of the Beatles' Hard Day's Night intro chord, These are the Ghosts is beautiful, combining indie rock and hints of psychedelia - something the Bees do brilliantly.

Next up is the album's penultimate track - a superb indie-folk-psyche dance tune about asking a girl's parents if you could take her to a hootenanny, or is it a hoedown? Listen to One Glass of Water and I'd be amazed if you weren't dancing around the room. It also contains the lyric: I'm no King Kong, I may be hairy but not quite as strong. One of the most joyous songs ever!

Finally, in this sense and also on the album, is surely Britain's answer to Woody Guthrie's This Land Is Your Land - mainly because the title is similar. This Is the Land makes me think of a super-speedy trip through the roads of the country. Either way it's great.

Anyway, on to the final album for this week. It's the most recent of my ten favourite albums of the past 30 years too, being, as it is, from 2007. I've done quite well since my early blogs in avoiding this artist, but there's no avoiding him here.

So, what is the best Ryan Adams album? Let's face it there have been plenty. Gold? Rock'n'Roll? Demolition? Cold Roses? Cardinology? All great, but it's Easy Tiger for me. The album cover should tell you all you need to know about it: Ryan Adams sat, almost with his head in his hands, and a cigarette on the go. All that's missing is the bourbon, but he'd given up the drink by this stage.

I've already used Halloweenhead and Sun Also Sets in previous blogs, so I won't go there again - despite them being utterly brilliant. There's also the country rock ballad Two, on which he sings alongside Sheryl Crow, and the cheekily monickered Oh My God, Whatever, Etc. The album's final track is bewilderingly sad. I Taught Myself How to Grow Old is a tale of lonesomenes and being distant from love and life.

From the end to the start. Easy Tiger kicks off brilliantly with Goodnight Rose, which harks back to Adams' Cold Roses era, vocals of anguish and quite harsh country rock music - in a good way!

Next, I've chosen an unusual Adams song, Pearls on a String. It certainly dabbles more than its toes into bluegrass, even if it's not fully submerged. It's an uplifting tune about hope (which makes it more unusual for Adams!). Plus, it's got a great chorus to sing along with.

And finally...back to Adams at his typical best in These Girls. Talking about 'bad' girls and how he can't help himself sometimes - 'god bless all the late night girls' and 'I get hypnotised and I wanna go to bed. There's also two cracking lines in this: 'One Christmas I got a funeral and they handed me the reciept' and 'how many lies I tell without my tongue'. The former is a great example of bad luck and getting kicked when you're down. The latter could either be lying to yourself, or using your eyes to convey something to one of these girls. I dunno, I didn't write it. But I do enjoy listening to it!

Week 19 - 30 Years, part one

2010-01-24T01:46:00.016Z

So, the Brit Awards celebrates its 30th this year - the awards ceremony that seems to have done less with its life than I have.

I watched Mel B present the highlights of previous years. Obviously, the one that stands out is Jarvis Cocker rubbing his ass at the crowd in protest at Michael Jackson celebrating allegations of child dodginess by surrounding himself with children. But, like the awards of late, this programme managed to edit out any semblance of interest by not showing Jarvis. Not content with this, they had Trevor Nelson and Cat Deeley (seriously) lambasting Cocker for this in such an inane way that even the commentators on the I Love.... series of shows would wince at the vacuity of it all.

But anyway, to celebrate their 30th year, one award the Brits will be dishing out is the Album of 30 Years, which honours the best British album of the past 30 years. Supposedly.

As you can see from the nominees (right), there's the banal, the expected and the just damn bizarre. If (What's the Story) Morning Glory, why not Definitely, Maybe or Blur's Parklife?! If Sade, why not, well anything else?!

This selection did one thing for me, it got me thinking of my 10 favourite albums from the past 30 years. I'd planned on doing something of this ilk for a while.

First things first, I don't want this to come across as muso's list where I'm trying to score points by choosing little-known or controversial albums. I'm not saying my list is better or worse than the Brits. It's personal. Click on the links to hear the songs.

Secondly, there are no compilation albums - which is a shame for the likes of the Smiths, Madness, the Specials and Carter USM.

Finally, I'm really surprised by the results. I thought the 90s were rubbish, but the majority of albums have come from then. Whether it's because that's when I grew up I dunno, but I doubt it as I bought more music during the 2000s. Odd.

On with the show.

This first of three installations will contain the first four albums, chronologically, with the exception of any to be included in my top three - that's part three. Exciting, eh?!

So we start with a bona fide classic. As far as debuts go, this is up there with the best. In fact, as far as albums go, it's up there with the best. The Stone Roses' 1989 self-titled release got a 10-year-old me in to music.

Chugging into your ears, the intro to opening track I Wanna Be Adored reminds me of Manchester's Piccadilly Station, with the train wheels scraping on the metal tracks as they come to a halt and the people depart onto the pimpled concrete (I have very strong memories of that concrete for some reason!). It's a stunning opening track and signalled to the world the intent of the precocious band who would help change the of the city, and the style of British youngsters.

But it wasn't all swagger with the Roses, they could produce glimmering, cheeky songs too. Songs about getting hands stuck to their jeans and the likes. (Song for My) Sugar Spun Sister is a beautiful track and expertly ambiguous. Is it about love, drugs or prostitutes? Who knows, just enjoy it.

There are reasons not to like This Is the One, well Man Utd come out to it, but it's such a good song I can bypass that. I absolutely love this song, it's just ace, it wouldn't get outclassed on any album. It is one of my all-time favourite songs and not putting this album in my top 3 was really hard, but I think it's become more of an old friend than an album!

If those three songs aren't enough, there's also the likes of She Bangs the Drums, Waterfall and I Am the Resurrection. Now that's great!

From Madchester to sunkist LA for the next one. People will say the Red Hot Chili Peppers have done better albums than this - Blood Sugar Sex Magick and Californication for two - but this 1995 album doesn't have a bad track among it.

One Hot Minute is one of their more experimental albums and often goes on about drug addiction and whatnot.

Warped is a dark and muddy intro to an album, but Aeroplane is more serene, even containing Flea's daughter and her classmates singing. Typically, the cheeriness hides something sinister - probably drugs, what with the mentions of spikes and sitting in his kitchen, overcoming gravity. Also, the slap bass is phenomenal, not that I'm usually into that stuff. My Friends also fits into the serene bracket, whereas Deep Kick is more like Warped.

Coffee Shop is a funk rock track to dance to, and Pea is just beautifully bizarre! One Big Mob kicks off with a punch but then mellows into a trippy haze before going full circle, lovely. This is the time when the album shows some semblance of order and the rest of the tracks are more accessible especially Tearjerker. Towards the end the Chilis vent about religion.

This is showns perfectly in the funky and somewhat angry Shallow Be Thy Name. "I was not created in the likeness of a fraud" and all the talk of being heretical. It's a rollicking good ride anyway, unless you're of a vehementally religious persuasion.

To sum up One Hot Minute: Drugs may be bad, mm'kay, but they lead to some excellent music.

For the penultimate album of this installation, we have some more from a rocky ilk.

Mention Reef to people and they'll immediately picture their biggest hit, Place Your Hands. But there was a time when Gary Stringer and co were serious contenders to the Led Zeppelin throne.

Their 1995 debut Replenish brings out the surfers in them and, couple with the Zeppelin-style riffs, makes this a criminally overlooked album.

Starting with the stellar Feed Me, Dominic Greensmith's drums conjure up a stormy sea and Stringers somewhat affected vocals add to the buffeting nature of the opener.

Next up is the riff-alicious (!) Naked which reached number 11 in the charts, unsurprising considering the guitar work of Kenwyn House and Jack Bessant, and Stringer bellowing "I'll blow you away".

Taking it down a notch and conveying a tranquil bay is the obviously titled Mellow. It's a great track to put on and drift away to sunny Cornish shores. As is the rest of the album, containing the rocky single Good Feeling and the title track.

Finally for this week, it's a totally different style of album, although it does allow you to drift off into another world, like parts of Replenish.

Moving on to 1997 and an album that - coupled with the Stone Roses - must surely be in most 'best album' lists. Following the disbandment of the hugely influential Spacemen 3, Jason 'J Spaceman' Pierce formed Spiritualized. He struck gold once more.

There weren't too many acts in the 90s that could blend strings, gospel and preposterously loud guitars and have commercial and critical success. Maybe it's because pillheads had a load of money! Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating Through Space is an amazing piece of work, from Kate Radley's low-key announcement at the start to the Dr John vocals on the bluesy Cop Shoot Cop. It's an emotional ride and no mistake, guv.

To start with there's the title track with the Kate Radley's aforementioned mutterance. Done entirely in loops, Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating Through Space is a sublime piece of paradoxically uplifting melancholy - mixing heartbreak with hope.

That's a theme that resonates through Spiritualzed's work, and it's employed perfectly in All of My Thoughts. Another theme is sonic surprise. In this track the beautiful music is interrupted by ferocious freakouts.

But the incredible track on here is the utterly heartbreaking Broken Heart. Having heard it many times, I should be immune to it now, but tiny beads of water still find their way to the corners of my eyes!

There's not a bad track here, and I haven't even mentioned Come Together, Electricity or Cool Waves.

Anyway, that's finally it for this week. The next two weeks' installments should be shorter!

Week 18 - When Good Vocoders Go Bad

2010-01-15T17:28:00.007Z

Firstly, an apology. As you can probably tell, I didn't get round to doing a New Year blog and, as the one I had in mind was various, exotic versions of Auld Lang Syne, I thought I'd better leave it for another time. Like August.

But anyway, onwards into a new decade.

As the season of goodwill is far behind us, I thought I'd serve up an abhoration of a blog. Yes, that's right, it's this blog's version of When Animals Attack, but more terrifying.

I was listening to an album recently, Bossa N Ramones, and was overwhelmed by how good it was. In general. Even some of the Ramones songs I'm not massively keen on work well, and there's a beautiful version of The KKK Took My Baby Away (if you can get past the weirdness of it!). However there was one that made me pull a face usually associated with a pungent whiff. But more on that later and onwards to the vocoders.

Let's get this straight, the vocoder isn't totally evil. Air, Daft Punk, Super Furry Animals and (ahem) even Peter Frampton use it well. But some people take a bone and run with it. However, like kindly dogs, they don't bury it away from human eyes/ears, these musicians decide it's the best thing in the world and they must make an entire song with it.

First up is the obvious one, but I'll just do a YouTube link to it as I don't want the police to find it on my hard drive! Hello Cherilyn Sarkisian, aka Cher. She say she believes in life after love, but she also believes in murdering the hell out of the poor vocoder that some lackey probably found while looking in the bins trying to find clothes for Cher. Yes, it's that travesty from 1998, Believe.

God, I hate that more than I remember.

Anyhoo, next up is another trip back in time, further on this occassion. There's no worse recipe than a dash of funk added to a modicum of R&B, sprinkled too liberally with vocoder and served up in the cracked bowl of the 1980s. This didn't stop Larry Blackmon and co. In 1986, Cameo slapped their culinary abortion onto our plates and we, amazingly, lapped it up. There's still some leftovers available for the chav-tastic 80s clubs. Prepare to screech 'Aw' like a cat suffering from diarrhea: here's Cameo with Word Up.

And finally, the song that inspired me to hurt your ears. Remember I was saying about Bossa N Ramones? There's a version of Pet Semetary on there. It's kind of charming, but there's no escaping the vocoder (or it might be a custom made dsumi, apparently. Either way it's an overused vocal enhancer).The perpetrator of this is Yasmin Gate and I wish her no ill, but...well, oof.

So, I'll leave you with Yasmin Gate doing the Ramones' Pet Semetary.

Week 17 - Dub a Dub a Dub Dub (The True Sound of Christmas)

2009-12-26T12:41:00.003Z

Yes it's Christmas, yes it's a blog about Christmas songs, and yes there are some less traditional ones in it. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?

Anyway, ridding myself of the true spirit of Christmas for a minute and pretending to be oh-so jolly, I'll wish everyone a Merry Christmas, but hold off extending those sentiments to the new year as I'm hoping to have done another blog by then.

For me, Slade, Wizzard et al are beyond the pale when it comes to Christmas tunes. They're so deeply imbedded into the festive fabric that I can't begin to consider them songs. They're like the chill wind blowing through the aisles of supermarkets and shops selling yuletide tat. As such I can't really hear them anymore. Although I do still hear Noddy scream "It's Chriiiiiiiiiiiistmas", oh yes. I hear that as if I'm in Alabama State Penitentiary and Bubba's just crept up behind me and whispered "I'm gwine-a make you my beeeatch". I don't much care for it. It's not that I don't like Slade, the rest of the year their songs are great.

Another 'traditional' one that doesn't make my best three is Fairytale of New York. I love this, whether it be Kirsty and the Pogues, Christy Moore or even No Use for a Name. The problem is that I can listen to this at any time of the year, and quite often do.

But onwards.

First up is a song from 1965, but you really wouldn't know it. It sounds much later. It's the Sonics doing Santa Claus. I'm not a fan of saccharine sludge and this really puts the claws into Santa, proper fuzz guitars from a garage band. Considering the lyrics revolve around getting nothing for Christmas, it's remarkably upbeat. Rock on.

Next is a wonderful track by a band I've always struggled to get in to. It's Just like Christmas by Low. A lovely voice and sleigh bells means it just oozes festive cheer. It seems to be about a tour of Scandinavia and how the band find their seasonal spirit in Oslo. Oh, and it mentions snow and wintery places. All good.

Finally, I suppose this is by far the most 'traditional' song on this list - it's on those 100% Christmas! albums you see. It's a song about war, and perhaps cynically added a bridge and sleigh bells to make it Christmassy. Still, it has one of the most recognisable intros ever. It's perfect music for nodding your and playing the imaginary trumpet and is ripe for a dub cover version. Word to the wise though, don't put it on repeat on a jukebox boozer, publicans don't always appreciate it.

It's Jona Lewie's Stop the Cavalry and I love it!

Ho ho ho, merry Christmas and all that.

Week 16 - Scandimania part two

2009-12-09T17:43:00.003Z

I don't think it will be much of a surprise to find out that this is a follow up to last week's Nordic love-in.

Therefore I won't disappoint you.

This week ventures deeper into Scandinavia than just the Polly Tones, but thankfully not into the regions of Abba, A-Ha and the Rasmus. Instead it's a mixture of haunting folk covers and awesome modern psych, just the way I like it!

But anyway, on with the show.

Remember German synthpop act Alphaville? If you do, you'll definitely remember this, practically their only hit - certainly their only one of note. This version, however, is a beautifully chilled cover by Norwegian singer/songwriter Ane Brun. She's got a great voice and this version of Big in Japan sounds like it could almost have been done by Joanna Newsom. But it wasn't, and Brun does it very well indeed.

Next up is another track that the Bees inspired me to listen to. It's on their wonderful Sound Selection album, on which they present a load of tracks which have inspired them, from funk to rock and reggae to psych. It's the last category that this song falls into.

This time we move to Sweden, with Gustav Ejstes's Dungen.

Jämna Plågor is a rollicking dark psych tune that stunned me when I first heard it, not least for the fact it was created in Sweden in 2005 and not Brazil in 1968! It's one of those songs that you kind of forget is instrumental as you get sucked in to the beats. Cracking, and once again, thank you Bees.

You know I said some would be haunting folk covers? Well, two are. Also, you know that John Lewis Christmas advert with the nice cover version of Guns n Roses' Sweet Child O' Mine? Yeah? Well, my final song is not that.

However, it is by the same artist. From Mr and Mrs Bergsman came Victoria Bergsman, from her came The Concretes and from them Victoria split and named herself Taken by Trees.

Digressing a tad, The Times voted Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion their album of 2009. Animal Collective are one of those bands like Flaming Lips, for me anyway - the songs I like, I love, but the other stuff I can take or leave. One of the tracks on MPP is My Girls, and that is good.

But what is better than the original is Taken by Trees' version of it. She changed the title to apply to her gender and called it My Boys.

Week 15 - Scandimania part one

2009-12-03T17:27:00.005Z

Every once in a while something comes along that stops you dead in your tracks. You can't quite believe what you've heard and you want to know more.

Reading a piece by Paul Lester in the Guardian, I followed up his excited suggestion and listened to The Polly Tones' reworking of Brian Wilson's SMiLE.

Malin and Viktor moved from a small town in northern Sweden to London to build a career in music and, judging by this attempt, it's only a matter of time before it happens.

What could easily have been an embarrassing hash has turned out to be a jaw-dropping effort that deserves its place in musical history. The duo have pared down Wilson and Van Dyke Parks' mind-altering orchestrations to just voice, guitar and editing. It's hard to explain just how well it works. Yes, there appears to be layering and a couple of other instruments, but it's clearly a bare, yet sumptuous end product. Malin's voice is great and Viktor on occasions sounds uncannily like Wilson, and their arrangements are spot on. It makes you wonder how long they've worked on this project. But who cares, it sounds great!

Heroes and Villains, by far my favourite track on SMiLE, is simply inspired. The final of the 10 songs they've done is Surf's Up and that too is brilliant. Even though I almost feel dirty saying this, I found The Polly Tones' version easier to listen to than Wilson's!

So, without further ado, I give you The Polly Tones' SMiLE.

Part One - Our Prayer/Gee, Heroes & VIllains
Part Two - Roll Plymouth Rock, Barnyard, Old Master Painter-You Are My Sunshine, Cabin Essence
Part Three - Wonderful, Song for Children, Child Is Father of the Man, Surf's Up

I'll leave the final word to Paul Lester: We'd like Mr Wilson to hear their SMiLE. It would blow his giant mind.

Week 14 - Talkin' Different Genre Blues

2009-11-22T23:05:00.004Z

Now, don't let me mislead you from the start. This isn't about Blues. This is about songs with Blues-style titles that are anything but.

I'm never sure what to think of Cat Power. On the one hand, I admire her as an artist, but on the other I can't get into her style. I don't necessarily mean that with regard to different songs, sometimes it happens within one track. However, from her Jukebox album, Blue is a stunningly soulful piece. Lovely sounds complemented by, rather than topped off by, her vocals.

One female artist I do like is Joanna Newsom. Her voice isn't everyone's cup of tea. Some people may say it's like a cat being strangled on a washing machine, but I like it (the voice, not laundry-themed feline murder). The harpist's This Side of the Blue is a stunning dreamscape of sounds. One of the most beautiful songs I know of, plus it's about time I put a folky track on here. Trust me, there'll be a lot more to come!

The Coral are a great band. They burst onto the scene in 2002 with their eponymous album, containing tracks like Goodbye and Dreaming of You. Since then, they've had a mixed output. Magic and Medicine was a great album - Don't You Think You're The First, Pass It On and Bill McCai. However, Nightfreak and the Sons of Becker was a quite dodgy album. It was a modern psychedelic work, but a bit too piecemeal for me. The Invisible Invasion contained In the Morning, a quality song, but little else. Fortunately, their most recent album, Roots and Echoes, is possibly their best since their debut, containing She's Got a Reason and Put the Sun Back.

But enough of the biographical stuff, the song I've chosen this week is a beaut off Magic and Medicine.

It's called Talkin' Gypsy Market Blues and its lyrics go thus: Talkin' gypsy market blues, I was too late and I never got to choose.

As you may know, there are many Talking blah-blah Blues song titles throughout history - whether it's Woody Guthrie's Talkin' Dust Bowl Blues, Townes van Zandt's Talkin' KKK Blues or Bob Dylan's Talkin' Hava Negilah Blues.

Now, to try to tie this back together, when I first heard Talkin' Gypsy Market Blues, I imagined The Coral as a bluesman in modern times. I figured they wanted to do a song in the talkin' blues spirit, but because all the good titles had gone they were stuck with a song about a gypsy market. Hence "I was too late but I never got to choose".

A lovely story, but hopelessly inaccurate! Instead it seems like a holiday in Portugal gone wrong. A man wants some boots, goes into an Al Stewart Year of the Cat-style haze, then decides he doesn't want the boots anymore. But, it's still a cracking song.

Enjoy!

Week 13 - Ode to Ewar Woowar

2009-11-16T23:16:00.006Z

Very sad news came out on Monday from Cornwall. The actor Edward Woodward died at the age of 79. For a man who hasn't particularly been full-on in the public eye for quite some time, he's certainly never been off my screens for long.

This is due to the quality of his roles. Arguably his finest moment came in 1973 when he teamed up with Britt Ekland and Christopher Lee in the Wicker Man. The film is fantastic for many reasons. Without giving too much away, it's all about suspense, symbolism and eerieness. And the soundtrack's awesome.

It wasn't all big-screen adventures. Woodward was perhaps best known for playing Robert McCall in the 80s American crime drama The Equalizer. In the 90s, after the high octane rollercoaster of The Equalizer, came a very British drama. Common As Muck was a wonderful BBC comedy drama about the lives of northern binmen. Sounds odd, but Woodward was exemplary as the leader of the group, Nev. It ran for two series, but has stuck in my mind as a pleasant, down-to-earth and occasionally very funny piece of TV-friendly drama.

But, Woodward's last great role was as a busybody Neighbourhood Watch enforcer in the Simon Pegg/Nick Frost film, Hot Fuzz. I'm sure he was cast as a tribute to The Wicker Man. The plot of Hot Fuzz follows the Anthony Shaffer's cult classic somewhat, but is a brilliant film in its own right.

As I'm sure you'll have guessed, this week is all about songs to do with the great man, Woodward himself.

First up is a surprising one. It's Woodward singing.

He released an album or two in the 1970s and his swing-style voice is surprisingly good. Check out him singing a beautiful, relaxing version of The Way You Look Tonight.

Next is one from the soundtrack of the last film I mentioned, Hot Fuzz. It's quite easy to see why I chose this - it's got 'fuzz' in the title. This has been in my mind quite a bit this week, as I've thought about Woodward and Hot Fuzz, but Supergrass's Caught By the Fuzz doesn't quite nudge the next one off the top of my mind.

The reason why I've not included the original of this song is because I thought I'd included it in the Halloween blog. Turns out I didn't! Anyway, this is another unexpected track. There's not many (my guess is none) Madchester bands who released an album that included a cover of a Wicker Man song on it. However, in 1991, Mock Turtles released Turtle Soup. It contained their standout hit, Can You Dig It?, plus a final song called Wicker Man. But, the song of the week is their version of the track which featured in The Wicker Man as Britt Eckland stripped off and banged and wailed on the walls of the room next to Woodward's, Willow's Song.

RIP Edward Woodward.

Week 12 - Verifique o nível da óleo

2009-11-06T18:42:00.004Z

Bom dia! As they might say in Portuguese-speaking nations.

The other week, a strange thing occurred to me: Apart from songs in English, my favourite language for music is Portuguese. I'd always assumed it was French (Jaques Brel, Serge Gainsbourg, Sylvie Vartan) or Welsh (Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, Super Furry Animals). However, if you take the 60s psychedelia boom and couple that with the cool jazz of bossa nova, and various other oddities, Portugal and Brazil have supplied some truly

First is arguably the greatest introduction to Brazilian psychedelia you could ever wish for. There's so much wonderful Brazilian psych out there, from the Beat Boys' O Meu Tamborim to, well, there's too many to mention. Check out some Nuggets albums!

But, top of the list is Rita Lee and Sergio Dias's group Os Mutantes. There's so many styles of music in the Mutantes' back catalogue - bossa nova, tropicalia - but they're best liked by me for their fuzzy psychedelia. There's no better example of this than A Minha Menina. The Bees covered this too and Os Mutantes' influence is easy to spot in their music...and it's all the better for it!

The quirky Wes Anderson film The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou brought to my attention a Portuguese musician called Seu Jorge. He starred in the film and provided some cool musical interludes. Most of these were Portuguese language cover versions of David Bowie songs. The best is probably the chilled out take on Life on Mars.

But the song that's been in my head all week is from an odd source. I first heard it on 2009's Eurovision! The stage show was lush - as if designed by Lemon Jelly. Have a look at it here. It was such a happy and musically interesting song I fell in love with it. How it only finished 15th I'll never know. That's not true, I think we all know why it finished there!

I've heard that Flor-de-Lis, the band behind the song Todas As Ruas Do Amor, are releasing an album in December. It's a strange time to release what will hopefully be a sunny slice of tropicalia, but I'm certainly looking forward to it. I like Eurovision, but there are songs that are just too good for it, this is one of them and Sebastian Tellier's Divine was another.

* In case you were wondering, the title means 'check the oil level'.

Week 11 - Celebrating Samhain

2009-11-06T18:38:00.005Z

So, this is Halloween and what have we done?

Well, quite simply, I've put together a few top spooky songs. Not all of them are necessarily associated with Halloween, but they all have eerie undertones.

Halloween is a great time of year - apart from the trick or treaters. People get dressed up in weird and wonderful costumes, there's a blitz of excellent films on TV and it's the proper start of dark and dangerous winter. Ooh, frightening eh?

First up is a bit of a jokey one. It's the Benzedrine Monks of Santo Domonica doing their version of Nirvana's Smell's like Teen Spirit. I've never really heard of them (BMoSD) before, but I've just checked on t'internet and apparently they did a film called Chantmania. I'm going to have to hunt it out as Smell's like Teen Spirit is great. Like I said, it doesn't really link to Halloween, but monks chanting are definitely a bit eerie. Especially if you're wandering around the historic East Riding town of Beverley...

Next is the Killer Tongue by Spanish rock group Fangoria. It's from the film of the same name (or La Lengua Asesina in Spanish) - not that I've seen it - but it's a beautifully cheesy horror rock song with a great dance-like intro.

Finally is a song that will really take quite some time to leave your head. It's the one and only Gonk. Created by H Chappell for George A Romero's Dawn of the Dead, the Gonk is a fantastic rollicking instrumental number. If you've seen the film, you'll recognise it from the end credits as the zombies wander round the shopping mall.

Listen away to arguably the greatest incidental film music and then try to get it out of your head. It'll take quite some time.

Week 10 - Beneath the Covers

2009-10-29T23:36:00.002Z

Interesting one this week. A lot of people are interested in fun cover versions of songs, but what about those who, as Blazin' Squad may say, want to flip reverse it?

This week's blog is about the original songs behind cover versions, but the cover versions are much more well known than the poor originals.

Also, you'll be pleased to know, this is another 'cut to the chase' blog. So, let's get down to brass tacks...

First up is Eminem's My Name Is. You remember the cool soul beat before Marshall Mathers kicks in with his woefully misogynistic and self-centred lyrics kick in? Well, that is a sample of Labi Siffre (yes, he of It Must Be Love and Something Inside So Strong fame). His tune, I Got the Blues, starts off with a beat redolent of Primal Scream's Vanishing Point album. It's so cool, dammit. Thanks Eminem for drawing this to my attention.

Next up is such a tragic case, and one I feel totally compelled to support.

Jake Holmes was a jingle writer - he of 'Gillette the best a man can get' anonymity. But he also penned an absolutely awesome album. If you haven't got it, please get your grubby mitts on The Above Ground Sound of Jake Holmes (if not just for the title). The tracks on it include a version of the Frankie Valli song Genuine Imitation Life.

However, that's not where I'm going with this. Rumour has it that a certain Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin saw Holmes one night perform a ditty by the name of Dazed & Confused. Legend, not rumour (!), has it that Page forgot about it, but suddenly remembered it during a jam by the awesome rockers.

As brilliant as Led Zeppelin's version is (and I must say, I think this whole 'ripping off of black music' thing is a bit harsh), Holmes' version is much better for pure desperation and psychedelic angst. God bless you jingle man.

The next one is the song that's been in my head all week - indeed the song that inspired me to wrestle these unfamous chaps from under the covers.

The Happy Mondays may seem like a bunch of scallies from Little Hulton, Salford. Actually, they are. However, they managed to inspire themselves through a bizarre love of almost unheard of 1960s and 70s songs. They loved Donovan so much one of them married his daughter. But, Mr Leitch isn't where I'm going - he's not so obscure.

Step On was a massive hit for the baggy boys in 1990. Ok, so the original by John Kongas may have been a Top 10 hit in 1971, as He's Gonna Step On You Again, but most people will have forgotten it by the time Factory Records' most profitable fun boys released it as Step On.

Listen and enjoy the early-70s bagginess of it all. Brilliant.

Week 9 - A Tale of Three Cities

2009-10-17T17:13:00.007+01:00

Songs about cities, eh? Is this another excuse to crowbar a Ryan Adams song into this blog? Well, no.

I could've very easily put his New York, New York into here as I do love it, but there's only so much Adams one blog can take! For now, at least.

So what will it be? Paris in the Springtime? London Calling? LA Woman? Again, all good, but nah, too easy.

Instead I've gone for songs about Las Vegas, Chicago and Manchester by artists from Georgia, Detroit and, erm, Eccles.

The first, as mentioned, is about Sin City, the gambling capital of the world, neon Mecca, or if you're Spanish, The Meadows.

Gram Parsons is rightly achieving the notoriety he deserves. From his time in the Byrds, to his death and alleged burial in the Joshua Tree National Park, Parsons never led a straight-forward life. He pioneered 'space country' and lived the archetypal West Coast rockstar life. Indeed it was his death in 1973, at the age of 26, that really fuelled his legend. Passing away from an overdose of morphine and alcohol, his manager, Phil Kaufman, decided to carry out Parsons' request. It appears Gram had asked his manager that, should he die, he wanted to be cremated in the Joshua Tree National Park. Parsons' body was due to be flown to his parents' in Louisiana, so Kaufman and a friend stole it from LA Airport and, in a borrowed hearse, drove it to Joshua Tree. Obviously they were being chased by police, but managed to outrun them. Once in Joshua Tree, they tried to cremate his body by pouring gallons of petrol into his coffin. This resulted in a huge fireball in the middle of the desert.

Anyway, the song about Vegas is Ooh Las Vegas. Having been to the city, it's a wonderful evocation of the glimmering lights and clanging slot machines...and the booze.

Secondly, and moving to the end (or start) of Route 66, we are welcomed by the ecstaticly blissful Chicago by Sufjan Stevens. Devotchka may be the main artists on the Little Miss Sunshine soundtrack, but Stevens' mix of triumphant strings, brass and emotional vocals is one of those songs you can't fail to love. Beautiful.

But, and a little closer to home, is the song of the week.

A lot of you may not know Aidan Smith, but he's a singer/songwriter and multi-instrumentalist from Eccles, Salford. He first came to my attention when he was signed by Badly Drawn Boy's record label Twisted Nerve. I went to see his first gig, when he supported Mr Gough at the Comedy Store, and his first solo gig at Matt n Phreds in the Northern Quarter. I've met him a couple of times and he's such an unassuming character, seemingly bemused by the life of a recording artist. Although I never met this guy, Aidan Smith reminds me of Nick Drake - some excellent and touching songs, but Smith adds wry humour to his songs (see the lyrics to John Peel favourite Song for Delia Smith)

Song for Manchester is a typically humourous track, in which Smith sings about how his songs aren't particularly popular in places like London and Nottingham, but he doesn't really care. However, when performing in Manchester he wants people to like them and, in turn, the audience gives him a renewed energy for songwriting.

Enjoy.

Week 8 - The Melbourne Supremacy

2009-10-15T20:24:00.006+01:00

It's not all INXS, the Wiggles, Jason and Alf from Home & Away, Australia you know. To be quite honest, I've only just discovered this too.

While our Antipodean chums might not be all that bad, they have struggled to make much of an impact over here with their music. Sure, there have been bands Midnight Oil, Wolfmother, Silverchair and AC/DC, but there seems to have been a distinct lack of top quality bands. You may argue that Nick Cave, The Church and Pendulum are good and I'd agree. They are excellent. But for every one of those there's a Savage Garden.

But, in a time when Australia is more renowned for 'midget horse races' and ill-advised tributes to Michael Jackson, I want to concentrate on the good things to come from the island nation, namely one city in the south - Melbourne.

It's strange, but I acquired two albums last week and both artists were from the same city. This came a few weeks after I discovered another Melbourne resident.

Temper Trap's Sweet Inspiration is a tune that's taken me ages to get in to. I first heard it on an advert and it's fair to say I detested it. Then, a week or so later, I saw 500 Days of Summer. It's got a great soundtrack, but when Sweet Inspiration came on I tutted with apathy. But, last week I heard it somewhere and it clicked. I rather enjoyed its seering guitars and melodies.

Cut Copy are an act I've admired for a while. I heard their set at Fabric (on CD, not at the club unfortunately) and thought it was an excellent playlist (check out Ciccone Youth's electro-rock version of Madonna's Into the Groove). However, it's only recently I came across one of their albums - In Ghost Colours. The opening track of that is Feel the Love. It's a wonderfully dreamy tune that brings with it thoughts of New Order being remixed by Lemon Jelly and Avalanches.

Now, on to Jens Lekman. Okay, so he's Swedish, but he's made Melbourne his home. This guy is simply outstanding - one of the best things I've come across in many years. Coupling lovely tunes with excellent rye humour, some of his subject matters are brilliant. He's seemingly obsessed with Rocky Dennis, the poor disfigured guy who became the subject of the film Mask - no, not that one (probably). He's so obsessed - making three songs and an EP about Dennis - that at one of his first gigs in Australia he was billed as Rocky Dennis. Another great songs revolves around mishearing a girl say they're only make believe. In the song, Lekman thinks she's said their love is only maple leaves.

But the song that's been in my head all week, and periodically for a few months, is Black Cab. Starting in such a jolly way as "oh no god damn, I missed the last tram. I killed the party again, god damn god damn", it contains the lyric that is also the name of his excellent compilation album - Oh You're So Silent Jens. Plus there's talk of taxi drivers being psycho killers, which is all good.

I think I may have discovered Lekman earlier, but my mate's recommendation fell on, erm, tired and emotional ears after our return from Glastonbury. However, all was not lost as my discovery of him was sure to happen at some point, and I sincerely hope yours does too.

Week 7 - Sup Up Your Beer

2009-10-01T22:21:00.003+01:00

There's something about drinking songs that really inspires. I'm not necessarily on about the 'di-de-di-de-ho' type where flagons are waved and sprayed. I suppose I mean the ones that you listen to before a good night out, ones that get you 'in the mood'.

My selection is obviously personal to me, so it tends to have evolved from situations in my life. Oh, sod it - instead of explaining, I'll cut to the chase!

First up is Stand By Me by Ben E King. Picture the occasion - seven drunken late-20-year-olds in a sheep-infested field in the Peak District. They go a-wandering up the hills, down the dales and so forth. They remember a film they saw in their youths. That film was Rob Reiner's 1986 coming-of-age drama Stand By Me (how did you guess?!). In it, a group of youngsters take a walk into the wild, down the railway to see a dead body. There was a railway where we were, but we didn't see any dead bodies. It was dark.

The next song is Sally McLennane by The Pogues. It was a St Patrick's Day in about 1996, I'd just acquired some bottles of Guinness, by hook or by crook (but mainly the latter). I was in my bedroom reading Dubliners by James Joyce and listening to Pogues songs. No idea why, I haven't got a shred of Irishness in me, and thankfully I've long since stopped that lunacy! But it was a great moment and a song that's long lived in my mind - one that I quite often listen to before stepping out on the town. It fills me with a sense that the night is going to be a good one, and that fun shall be had by all. It also took on a new resonance when myself and a drunken friend tried to rewrite it - I'm sad to say, I must be Darren Day - and so forth. It ended as a tribute to former Croation footballer Davor Suker. I've no idea why, but I think drink had been consumed.

The final song is from a time similar to the first one. It's from an awesome drinking game that is sure to set you on your way...to oblivion. It's called Ring of Fire. Now, I bet you can't guess what song I associate with it?! It's become its theme tune. So much so that we cannot begin the drinking until we've parped along with the intro to Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire.

The reason that's my song of the week is because that's pretty much what I'll be doing this weekend. I thought I'd better get it out of the way in case something awful happens to me. But if it does, this blog will take on a strange meaning. God, now I really hope nothing happens! Enjoy.

Week 6 - A Week of Departures

2009-10-01T21:37:00.009+01:00

So, Patrick Swayze, Keith Floyd and Felix Bowness all gone. What a depressing week. Although it did take me a while to realise Swayze wasn't like his character in Donnie Darko - a child abuser. But, after I got past that, I was quite upset that in such a short space of time three people who had a large influence over my youth were no longer with us.

As I've mentioned, Swayze, apart from starring in Dirty Dancing, was also in Donnie Darko. A great film that, although relatively recent, has left its mark on my psyche. There's also some great music in it. Not just Mad World, but mainly Under the Milky Way by 80s Australian rock band Church.

Next was Keith Floyd, the maverick chef who arguably changed British cooking programmes for ever. Even as I write this I'm watching his influence on TV. Jamie Oliver's getting down and dirty with rednecks and African Americans in Georgia - going somewhat off the beaten track to discover real food that doesn't always get its 15 minutes of fame. This is what Keith Floyd did. Instead of standing prim and proper in front of the studio camera, he could often be seen cooking a Thai curry on a little boat, or whipping up a creamy desert in a provincial French kitchen. All this to a soundtrack of the Stranglers. Fanny Craddock eat your heart out. (I'm very glad I didn't mis-type that sentence).

But, for me, the saddest of the aforementioned three was Felix Bowness. Felix played grouchy jockey Fred Quilley in classic sitcom Hi-De-Hi. I loved Hi-De-Hi. A proper homage to holidays past - not for me, but for thousands of Brits. Good old fashioned comedy. It also had a great theme tune: Go, go, go do the holiday rock...yeeeahh! Brilliant.

However, I can't help feeling I've led you all down a blind alley here. Even though there are enough good songs mentioned previously to fill a blog, this week's song of the week is nothing to do with anything that has gone before.

Instead, I have gone for another sad departure from that week. While they may not have wriggled from this mortal coil, they have stopped touring and called it a day - after 34 incredible years.

They may not have a lengthy back catalogue that fits in with their long career, but what they do have are songs that everyone knows and surely loves.

Yes, that's right, Chas n Dave. I had the pleasure of seeing Messrs Hodges and Peacock at Glastonbury. It was in a bursting tent, with thousands of festival-goers outside. It was also the time when Michael Eavis and Bob Geldof were telling everyone to 'Make Poverty History'. Chas n Dave did their piece too. They said 'Make Poverty History' and then did the Cockney intro, saying 'Oi' at the end. It's the thought that counts...

So to honour the Cockney rockers, here are my three top Chas n Dave songs.

3) Snooker Loopy
It's educational, alright! Everytime I play snooker I sing it in my head to figure out what to pot next. Plus, who can argue with the line 'cos I wear these goggles'?

2) Rabbit
Ever tried doing this at karaoke? Don't. even with two people, it's nigh on impossible.

1) Sideboard Song
Scruffy little teds? Arcane furniture? Beer? Perfect! Ok, so it conjures up the image of Alf Garnett, but it's still a corking song. Oh yeah, god knows what the video is about, but it's summat to watch eh? Enjoy.

Week 5 - Three Degrees of Jeff Mangum

2009-09-18T18:48:00.008+01:00

A funny thing happened on the way to this blog. I was looking into a band who I'd been listening to and realised he'd played some part in two other bands I liked. That man, as the title suggests, is Jeff Mangum. Perhaps shamefully, up until last week I didn't know who he was.

For those like me, he's the singer from Neutral Milk Hotel, the 1990s American indie/rock/psych-folk band. While they never hit the heights of stardom, they certainly flirted with it. Their second album - 1998's In an Aeroplane over the Sea - has become an almost cult recording. Some great offbeat tunes ranging from psychedelia through folk to quite heavy rock.

Neutral Milk Hotel, I've just discovered, were my second introduction to Mangum. The first was Apples in Stereo.

Now, while he wasn't a member of these, Louisiana's NMH are intertwined with Colorado's Apples in Stereo. The latter's Robert Schneider first met Mangum in Ruston, LA, having moved from South Africa at an early age.

The pair went to school together, but Schneider packed up and attended college in Denver, where he formed Apples in Stereo. It was here Schneider set up the Elephant 6 recording company, alongside Bill Doss, Will Cullen Hart and Jeff Mangum. So, four friends from school set up a recording company and, in doing so, also created some of the toppermost American indie bands of the 1990s.

Mangum, along with Doss and Hart, were also part of Olivia Tremor Control, a band I have only just recently discovered - thus being the third part of the Mangum trilogy. Olivia Tremor Control are an intriguing and quintessential American 1990s indie/college rock band formed in Athens, Georgia.

So, there we are. And for those interested, you can now download a song by each of the Elephant 6 artists mentioned.

The first is The King of Carrot Flowers, Parts Two and Three by Neutral Milk Hotel. What a great introduction! "I love you Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ, I love you." From quite an odd and quavery beginning, the song then launches in to a fantastically uptempo rock number.

Next is Lucky Charm by Apples in Stereo. I first heard this when it appeared in an episode of Teachers in the early 2000s. A pleasant, simple ditty that repeats itself in your head.

Finally is Hideaway by Olivia Tremor Control. Not very typical of the band, but this song is a wonderful example of blissful English shoegazing music taken across the pond and given the college rock treatment.

Enjoy.

Week 4 - I've Got a Feeling You'll Have Heard of These

2009-09-11T17:45:00.007+01:00

It may not be a surprise what this week's blog is about. Go anywhere this week - newspapers, magazines, music shops, computer games, tv shows - and you'll have been bombarded by this band.

I love the Beatles. For me, they're a world apart from anything else. So much so that, when people ask me who my favourite bands are, I never mention the Beatles. I think it's a waste of words as most people will admit to thinking the Beatles are one of their favourites.

In under a decade they totally changed modern music and their influence is still so apparent today - not just in bands such as Oasis. In fact, I find it quite poetic that, a few weeks after the Gallagher brothers called it a day, the Beatles will have up to 12 of their albums in the charts!

For four guys from Liverpool, they have had a quite preposterous impact, they even introduced Britain and the western world to sitars, reverse tracks and yoga.

But all the technical and cultural stuff aside, their music is what they're best known for - and quite rightly.

Just going through a list of their tracks is like looking at a 'best songs of all time' list. And all done in under ten years.

The Radio Times ran a feature a few weeks ago in which Paul McCartney spoke candidly about the longevity of the band, and his relationship with John Lennon. Also in this feature was a section where celebrities - including Sue Johnston, Michael Parkinson and Stuart Maconie - chose their favourite Beatles tracks

What a question to ask! As Maconie said, it's like asking someone to pick out their favourite line from Shakespeare - there's so much to choose from. The excellent Maconie being the main exception, most people chose the George Harrison number 'Something'. Now, I love that song: it's so laid back, romantic and blissful. However, I also love other perennial favourites such as She Loves You, Can't Buy Me Love, Ticket to Ride, Strawberry Fields Forever, All You Need Is Love... I could go on!

This week, I've decided to list some classic Beatles songs that never, or rarely at any rate, get mentioned as 'favourites'. Again, ending with the song that's been in my head most of this week.

Here goes:

Across the Universe
I think this might be my favourite Beatles song, full stop. But then again, I say that about most of their songs at times! Generally being a McCartney man, there's something magical about this Lennon number that just relaxes me and makes me happy. Plus Sanskrit is welcome in any song. I thought long and hard about putting this one is, as it is arguably the most popular of my choices and may be seen to be a cop-out. However, in my opinion it's not loved as much as it should be - so go on, start loving this more.....More, I said!
Blackbird
A brilliant McCartney number this, done well by Crosby, Stills & Nash too. When I saw McCartney play at Glastonbury in 04, he played this to an almost silent crowd of 90,000. A truly amazing moment - although not quite as good as the singalong to Hey Jude which took over the entire site and lasted for a good few hours after Macca had left the stage.
Carry That Weight
For some unknown reason, it's only in the past few years that I've really listened to and got into the later Beatles albums such as The White Album, Let It Be and Abbey Road. God knows why! Carry That Weight is part of the medley which ends Abbey Road and is rumoured to be about encouraging the band to carry on after the death of their manager Brian Epstein.
For me, it's just a glorious anthemic sing-song that could go on for hours if it wanted. It's also arguably one of their most influencial pieces that glam and BritPop certainly took to heart.
I'll Follow the Sun
I first came listening to this when I found a copy of an album by The Quarrymen - the Beatles in a previous guise - and loved it. After a few listens it occured to me that I'd heard it loads of times while growing up, as it's on the 1964 album Beatles for Sale. A melancholy little McCartney ditty with a great guitar twinkles, it's a beauty of a song.
Things We Said Today
For Christ's sake! This was a B-side and recorded just because they needed music for their film, A Hard Day's Night. For how many other acts would this have been the pinnacle of their careers?! Great harmony between Macca and...well, Macca. Double-track heaven. It's also a bit heavier than the other ones I've chosen.
I've Got a Feeling
With an intro Shed Seven have ripped off, this raucous rooftop song from Let It Be is just glorious late-60s rock. A lovely feelgood tune to rock out to. I love Lennon's verses in this too. Brilliant. Enjoy this footage from their rooftop concert on 30 January, 1969.

Beatles fans, also take a look at the Music Makes Me blog, you'll see a link for it on the right. There you'll find a great project - re-creating all Beatles albums, but using unusual cover versions of the songs. Check it out...!

Week 3 - The Death of Summer

2009-09-05T17:06:00.013+01:00

So, judging by the weather, it looks like summer's gone and that's what I've been mourning this week. I've been remembering those glorious days spent with the grass and sun.

However, I don't mind - to pretend I do seems really dumb.

It amazes me how many good songs relate to the passing of the seasons, and the eagle-eyed among you may have already picked up on one which fits this past week nicely.

But more on that one later...

Firstly, I'd like to run down some other songs that pop into my head during the year.

So, let's start at the beginning, eh?

Death Cab for Cutie - New Year
There are so many songs celebrating Christmas, but what about the other festival seven days later? Not so many, just this one, New Year's Kiss by Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, and New Year's Day by U2. However, the last one seems to be an anthem for Solidarity rather than a celebration of the start of a new year.
But this song by Death Cab for Cutie is a belting little number, with fierce chimes and lyrics revealing a dawning realisation that, even though a new year may have dawned, very little changes.
Plus they are named after a song by the Bonzos - never a bad idea - and Ben Gibbard has arguably one of the best voices in indie rock, as he also demonstrates with The Postal Service.
Bangles - Hazy Shade of Winter
There are two songs that sum up winter for me: this and I Smell Winter by The Housemartins. Of course, I could have gone for that, or even the original Simon & Garfunkel version of this song, but this is a shameless excuse to see Susannah Hoffs on video. No contest is it? Art Garfunkel, complete with Marie Antoinette hairstyle, or Susannah Hoffs?!
Anyway, on with the song...
But look around, leaves are brown now
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Look around, leaves are brown
There's a patch of snow on the ground...
It conjures up a wonderful image of slush on busy streets near rusty brown railings separating the urban hustle from the brown, sleeping park the other side, complete with crisp air and the freezing smell of winter. However, the song itself tells of homelessness and dispair in the fierce winters of New York.
Screeching Weasel - First Day of Summer
Ah, you can't beat this. Feelgood US punk from the Chicago-born band and their Bark like a Dog album from the excellent Fat Wreck Chords stable. It's fair to say NOFX's Fat Mike and his record label soundtracked most of my teens, but I didn't get into Screeching Weasel until I reached university, where I also got into The Queers.
These last two bands were obviously very much inspired by The Ramones, and it shows.
This hi-tempo and anthemic number really sums up the time around mid-May when I look ahead to barbecues, Glastonbury, trips to Bridlington/Scarborough beaches and long days sat drinking, overlooking the Ouse in York.
This optimism of a great summer is obvious in the lyrics here, but comes with a nice warning not to take those sunny days for granted:
Come on now it's the first day of summer
please don't let it slip by just try
to squeeze all of the life out of it
Ryan Adams - Halloween Head
I've written plenty about Ryan Adams already, so I'll keep this one relatively brief.
I love Halloween - the smell of bonfires, the hint of magic in the air, and the fancy dress parties where people dress up in all manner of weird get-up.
Now, that picture to the right isn't the kind of Halloween Head Ryan Adams goes on about. He mentions having a head full of 'tricks and treats', a great image suggesting a mischievous mind.

But anyway, back to the summer-ending song that's been in my head all week.
It's a great slice of happiness from the Wirral four-piece who took their name from a character in Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird.
I heard somewhere that the arrangement in this song is reported to increase serotonin and release endorphins so you feel a rise in happiness. I'm no chemist, but I'm not sure about that. It certainly is a happy little ditty nonetheless.
The Boo Radleys remained underground for quite some time, recieving critical praise for their album Giant Steps. However, it was their 1995 hit Wake Up Boo! that shot them into the charts, peaking at number 9.
Anyway, have a listen for yourself and see if you can spot the quotes I ripped out of it at the start.

Week 2 - All-Time Top 5 Break-Up Songs

2009-08-25T17:43:00.012+01:00

Websters dictionary defines 'break-up song' as 'a short musical composition intended to soothe one's soul after the unfortunate ending of one's relationship and that'.
Obviously that's Billy Bullcrap, but I've always wanted to start a piece with a quote from Merriam-Webster, but have never found the use.

Break-up songs are an odd kettle of fish - everyone's got their perception of what a good break-up song should be, and what image it should conjure up.

I read somewhere that The Smiths' I Know It's Over was voted the all-time greatest break-up song. I'm not sure I agree, it's a cracking song but a bit depressing - as unbelievable as that is coming from Mozzer, Marr, Rourke and Joyce.

While doing some research about this depressing genre, I came across a suggestion of Broken Heart by Spiritualized. Now, I love this song, but it's never popped into my head when thinking it's all over. However, it's a top suggestion and can see why people while away those solitary nights listening to Jason Pierce's heartbreaking voice.

However, if I was to split up, the last thing I'd ever want within a 50-mile radius of me is Bobby Brown's wailing scag-hag screeching her head off about how she-ee-ee will always love me-ee-ee.

For me, it's not about crying on a bed of satin sheets and roses, it's more a case of sitting stony-faced in some dark bar in Georgia, Carolina or Nebraska, drinking whisky and reflecting on where things went wrong. For this reason, it may explain why a certain artist features twice in my All-Time Top Five Break-Up Songs.

So, let's get on and have a butchers at them, in reverse order, naturally.

5) I Know It's Over - The Smiths
Ok, so it may not be my number one, but it's hard to ignore this depress-a-thon.
The line 'because tonight is like any other night, that's why you're on your own tonight' really gets at you, nevermind the suicidal sounding lyrics.
If anyone's ever split from a girl after being told they're not 'nasty' enough, they will appreciate the line 'it's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate, it takes strength to be gentle and kind'.

Overall, a great example of post-split depression, but a bit too on the 'down' side for me!

Check out a video of it at Youtube. It's a strange video, with images of a Smiths performance not of I Know It's Over, spliced with clips from what appears to be a film about Ukrainian lesbians.

4) For No One - Beatles
From Revolver, my personal favourite Beatles album, this McCartney song of faded love really tears at you.
'And in her eyes you see nothing, no sign of love behind the tears, cried for no one. A love that should have lasted years.'
Musically it's great too, with the clavichord and french horn adding to the downbeat air

For No One at Youtube

3) Harder Now That It's Over - Ryan Adams
Quite a dark song that seems to be about people a couple who got into a fight and the woman got nicked. 'I didn't feed you to the cops. When I threw that drink in that guy's face, it was just to piss you off cos honey it's over'
Then the typical rye humour of Ryan Adams claiming 'it's harder now that it's over...now that the cuffs are off'.
Also a theme Adams returns to quite often is something I mentioned earlier - sitting in bars drinking: 'I'm the one between the bars and lost forever now, cos it's over now.'

This song is from his 2001 album Gold. If you haven't got it, please do. It's an almost phenomenal work.

Hear the song here.

2) Days - The Kinks
I love the idea of this song being a break-up one. It's lovely and almost worth splitting up just to play it to your former lover - almost!
'Thank you for the days, those endless days, those sacred days you gave me. I'm thinking of the days, I won't forget a single day, believe me.'
And later, this bit: 'But then I knew that very soon you'd leave me, but it's all right, now I'm not frightened of this world, believe me.'

The emotion in this one is much more content than the other ones. There's no regret, no pleading for more, just an appreciation of what's gone before. However, there's still the trepidation of spending nights alone. 'I wish today could be tomorrow. The night is dark, it just brings sorrow anyway.'

God I love the Kinks, and this 1968 song is wonderful. Watch it here.

1) Sun Also Sets - Ryan Adams
Wow. Just wow. Feel the pain, the angst and the bewilderment of how things 'faded out, faded out so fast'.
A quite astonishingly good song about a love that suddenly went wrong. There's still the theme carried over from the Kinks:
'When you get the time, sit down and write me a letter. When you're feeling better, drop me a line. I wanna know how it all works out.'

This 2007 song from his Cardinals album, Easy Tiger, takes its title from Hemingway's novel Sun Also Rises.

Now, it's stupid to say Ryan Adams is a good a writer as someone like Hemingway...but!
No, but the imagery used in 'there it is, we were only one push from the nest' is great.

It also talks of how with every difficult split, you lose something. Something which was a positive personal trait, but you maybe now don't believe enough in yourself to still see it.

A rock'n'roll ride of emotion that's been in my head all week!

Awesome. Enjoy.

Week 1 - Displacing talk of coconuts on Fridays

2009-08-22T23:08:00.006+01:00

A very busy week. Friday afternoon at work. Extremely tired, counting down the hours, trying to stay awake. Idiots talking incessantly about coconuts and other ridiculous things. Anger growing. Need to find a happy place.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere this classic came into my head and all was good in the world.
From 1962 New York to 2009 East Yorkshire, this Carole King and Gerry Goffin penned tune was something I hadn't heard nor thought about in quite some years, but it was certainly a very welcome reunion.

So, purely because it rescued me from very dark times, that's why it's my song of the week.
Although, it could quite easily have been anything by jazzer George Shearing after a Kerouac-inspired hunt for songs by the old blind English-born pianist.
Likewise, it could so easily have been Atlas Sound's Recent Bedroom as I finally figured out it was that song which featured on the conclusion of Johnny Vegas' sitcom Ideal.
But no, it's Up on the Roof by The Drifters, and here it is:

One thing that strikes me about the video is the releasing of doves from the coop. It brings to mind Will Ferrell in the remake of The Producers.
That Was the Song of the Week That Was, ta!

Introduction

2009-08-22T22:44:00.001+01:00

So, something I've often thought about doing is a musical diary; something to sum up my week in music - like a Top of the Pops for my internal jukebox.
It occurred to me I could do a weekly blog about the song that has played a large part in my week - about one of those songs that sticks in your head for days, or just acts as the soundtrack to your week.
So that's what I'll do.
Each week I'll stick up an mp3 of said song and tell of why I've chosen it, and maybe a little bit of info on the song...if I can be bothered. Who knows if I'll stick to that last bit, it may turn out to be a dull lecture on songs no-one really cares about. What I will try to stick to is the weekly update and upload.
There you have it. Hope you enjoy and feel free to leave comments about your songs of the week and why it is.
That is That Was the Song of the Week That Was.