Goodbye to the Normals

The week that music died…

Sunday evening was always about the charts – in the old days, Sunday sandwiches of cold roast, Songs of Praise on the TV – and me off to my raido to listen to the the Top 40 countdown. I never recorded the Top 40 like some people claim, and I never pretended to be the DJ – but I was always concerened with who had hit the top spot. Whipped into a frenzy by Radio 1 – I knew most of the tunes in the Top 10, unless an amazing new entry had stormed to the top. In the 1980′s the chart was actually released on a Tuesday – and on Tuesday evening you could get a run-down with Bruno Brookes. Ignoring possibilities of chart rigging, I used to believe this was the center of the music universe.

Slowly the sanctity of the Top 40 chart was eroded – moving to Sundays, competition from the Pepsi chart on Capital Radio, format complexities and the addition of downloads, but just occasionally the interest in the Top 40 would be rekindled…battles between Blur and Oasis would make the papers, or comparisons of sales between cleverly scheduled releases by Britney & Kylie.

But this week – it died, the British music reached its absolute nadir – the bottom of a seemingly endless trough of its own making – and the British music buying public must accept some of the blame.

Four celestial anti-bodies have aligned – and left us with a black hole in the fabric of our music pschye.

My evidence:

A man-band that retired ten years ago, shed (arguably) their most talented member and release a record that sounds very similar to a Nerina Pallot tune (strangely she was dropped by Take Thats record label) – they end up at number on in the singles chart.

Four oirish chancers – led by the man that puts the leper into leprechaun are at the top of an album chart that features only releases and best-ofs in its top 5. The other 4 slots are made up from ‘artistes’ that have to have long memories to recall their peaks. Oasis who spewed the remainder of their arrogant, creative juices almost 5 years ago, The Beatles – Love : a ‘remaster’ of an album by supposedly Britains greatest band. U2′s U218 : a hastily cobbled together greatest hits by the ‘worlds biggest rock group’. George Michaels – 25 - sugared soul held together with a couple of camp Wham hits. Its shocking, turgid stuff and we should be ashamed of ourselves for buying this crap.

Then somehow – there is enough public demand for Peter and Katie to release a record. Record company executives are generally not stupid people (dangerous and misguided maybe) – and so they must have had a ‘focus group’ or some market research that said : ‘Now, late 2006, just before Christmas…thats when the world needs to hear an album by a top-heavy model and a light headed aussie’. So here it is – like a musical dog turd.

And finally – and most tragically – a star gets snuffed out. Alan Freeman, the legendary radio broadcaster and DJ has left us. Maybe its better that he popped off this week – who could have stood another week of the shameful british music industry and the even more culpable british music buying public.

Goodbye pop-pickers

Camper than Christmas!

So apart from running round in his long army coat for Torchwood – John Barrowman has done loads of acting, helping people out on ‘Who wants to Solve a  problem like Maria?’ and popping up on TV shows like ‘Never mind the Buzzcocks’ (23rd Nov – BBC).  I would never have guessed, watching him be Captain Jack that he was camper than a row of pink tents! Hysterically funny, thats going to make Torchwood even funnier.

Pocky

Pocky

Originally uploaded by mattr.

This great packaging belongs to a Japanese biscuit (covered in chocolate) – we call them Mikado from France, but the Japanese call them ‘Pocky’ – I love the colour of the box, not an immediate ‘buy me – I’m chocolate’ colour, but really nice…

Lily Allen – Flashing!

So – whilst checking my blog stats, I can see that people have arrived here after searching for a picture of Lily Allens boobies…I’ve seen the picture – you can see it here – and frankly, its not really worth the effort of cranking up your favourite search engine and looking for ‘lly allen flashing’. I didn’t post it here because, well, its a bit weird, it was clearly taken back when Lily was a teenager, and she’s a bit more…err…rounded now, but I suppose, if 14 year old breasts is what you want – then, click away! Now, if someone has some pictures of her flashing NOW – then send em over, they’ll be worth all the bandwidth!

At his absolute peak…

Well I held you like a lover
Happy hands, and your elbow in the appropriate place
And we ignored our others, happy plans
For that delicate look upon your face
Our bodies moved and hardened
Hurting parts of your garden
with no room for a pardon
In a place where no one knows what we have done

Do you come, Together ever with him?
And is he dark enough? Enough to see your light?
And do you brush your teeth before you kiss?
Do you miss my smell?

And is he bold enough to take you on? Do you feel like you belong?
And does he drive you wild? Or just mildly free?
What about me?

Well you held me like a lover
Sweaty hands, and my foot in the appropriate place
And we use cushions to cover, happy glands
In the mild issue of our disgrace

Our minds pressed and guarded, while our flesh disregarded
The lack of space for the light-hearted
In the boom that beats our drum
And I know I make you cry, and I know sometimes you wanna die
But do you really feel alive without me?
If so, be free…if not, leave him for me
Before one of us has accidental babies
For we are in love

Do you come
Together ever with him?
Is he dark enough?
Enough to see your light?
Do you brush your teeth before you kiss?
Do you miss my smell?
And is he bold enough to take you on?
Do you feel like you belong?
And does he drive you wild?
Or just mildly free?
What about me?
What about me?

Accidental Babies – Damien Rice (from ’9′ – 2006)

iDalek?

ipod_dalek

Originally uploaded by wizard of olz.

Seeing as at least 66% of my household is currently obsessed with Doctor Who and the daleks, I smiled when I saw this over on Flickr…

Lily Allen – Astoria – 7th November 2006

I wonder what the collective noun for a group of chavs is? A ‘burberry’ of chavs? A ‘nova’ of chavs? I think I’ll stick with ‘burberry’ – there was definately a critical mass of crop tops and giant hoop earrings at the Astoria last week as Lily Allen dropped in for the last night of her UK tour. Certainly as Lily bounced on stage, most were expecting her to be in her trademark ballgown and trainers, but she’d ditched that (‘cos I was vomiting all day’) and strode on in a grey nike tracksuit which seemed to fit the music and the audience just perfectly!

Definately NOT chav was the band line up, coupled with a bad-ass skanking horn section the sound in Londons Astoria was superb, bottom heavy, funk led and full of bouncy energy to get the crowd going. Lily opened with LDN, and quickly strode through all the tracks from her debut album ‘Alright, Still’ – she stopped in between to berate the audience from Cambridge the night before, and to exchange banter with the adoring myspace crowd – who seemed to be about 40% of the audience, but she fired on through the hits – Smile – and the not so hits – Windowshopper from the mixtapes, and the cover of The Kooks – Naive which was a nice acoustic break.

She certainly didn’t seem phased by the TV cameras in her face, looks like they were recording for the forthcoming brits show – and delivered some great singing whilst bouncing around the stage removing a ‘stupid fitted cap’ and opening the trackie to show off the tum. She finished up saluting her family (I think i could see the Sherrif of Nottingham in the house) alongside her brother Alfie – the subject of the final encore, pumping and honking its little fairground riff into the rafters as we all shuffled off with a smile on our faces.

Great stuff…were you there? Let me know – hit comments and tell me what you thought…

Every word a story…

If it be your will, that I speak no more,
and my voice be still, as it was before
I will speak no more.
I shall abide until I am spoken for,
If it be your will

If it be your will, that a voice be true
From this broken hill I will sing to you,
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring

If it be your will, to let me sing
From this broken hill, all your praises they shall ring
If it be your will, to let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell

If it be your will, to make us well
And draw us near, and bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light
In our rags of light, all dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will
If it be your will.

Leonard Cohen – If it be your will (from ‘Various Positions’ – 1984)

I knew it would take something shocking…

I have been having a hiatus, I think writers say that they are “trying to find their voice” or something, but I knew that it would be a great album or a great movie or a fucking great big RANT that would get me back onto my blog.

I’ve been using public transport quite a lot recently – whilst working in Liverpool I have discovered that the train is the best way of  getting to my trips.

The nice thing (or the problem) with the train is that people speak to each other much more than on planes – normally its OK, I don’t get disturbed, i plug in – do some work or read.

And yet today – as I write – there is a hideous, loud, wizened woman telling her clearly weak and obsequious colleague, all about the great work she does.

Please. Shut. Up. Now.