pogo a go-go

You Go, Grrlz!!

2010-10-10T22:06:00.000-07:00

Alright, I put it down to a looong, post-Joan Jett hangover. All that estrogen and all those chords pumping through major amperage, why, it's given me a crrraving for grrlz wot rock!!

Erm, what more to say? Well, I guess I could try and explain why grrl rawk entrances me so. Is it the inherent challenge of women appropriating a male artform? Possibly. Could it be the juxtaposition of the female voice and clangy gee-tarr?? Mebbe. Could it be that when they do it properly, they rock with in-yer-face growl & howl unmatched by any male? Quite probably.

Argh, enough with the floundering. Here's what I'm talking about:

Silverfish - Vitriola (buy here or e-here)
Not the creepy crawly that eats yer books, but the in-yer-face Camden noiseniks fronted by formidable feminist Glaswegian goddess, Lesley Rankine. Subsequent to Silverfish s-he swapped the shoutiness for downtempo trip-hop and formed Ruby. Last I heard she had taken time off to devote to another awesome female pursuit, i.e. motherhood.

Pack A.D. - BC is on Fire (buy here or e-here)
Ohh, yess, here's some awesome, home-grown, blues-n-garage rawk from Vancouver's own Becky Black and Maya Miller. Growly, gritty, straight-up goodness. Currently finishing up a US tour on the east coast.

Thee Headcoatees - Teenage Kicks (buy here or e-here)
And since we're on the subject of garage rawk, I doff my hat to these fine, fine, female acquaintances of Billy Childish. Although they started off as his backing band, make no mistake: Kyra, Holly, Ludella, and Debbie were no less loud & proud.

Voodoo Queens - Supermodel Superficial (buy here or e-here)
Back to Camden, then, to have a howl and a shout circa 1993 with Ms Anjali Bhattia, whose sentiments on mainstream fashion were --and still are-- spot on.

L7 - Just Like Me (buy here or e-here)
Donita Sparks? I wanna be just like her. Sigh...

I Love Rock 'n' Roll

2010-09-07T05:46:00.008-07:00

JJ courtesy of Lorena

Yes, well, I know it's been a while. Close to five months, actually. But Dearest Friends, I'm not going to spend oodles of e-screed explaining where I've been or where my blog-o-mojo went. It's all good, I'm all good, good to be back. But what brought me back, you ask? That's a fair question, and one deserving of an answer. Rock 'n' roll brought me back, Dearest Friends, and to be more specific: Joan "F**king" Jett. Oh, yessssss...

Back in May I watched The Runaways while I was 30,000 feet over the Canadian prairies. Suddenly, Air Canada booze and reheated chicken lost it's appeal; I wanted to rip my tiny screen out of the seatback, undergo a sex change, piss on the stewardess, and play whirling air guitar while belting out "Ch-ch-Ch-ch-Ch-ch-Ch-ch- CHERRY BAWWWMBB!!"at the top of my lungs. But I restrained myself, and consequently remain off the "No Fly" list. That said, the film became firmly cemented in my Top Ten faves and may well be the best rawk film I have ever seen. And henceforward I will never be able to hear The Stooges' "I Wanna Be Your Dog" without getting a warm, tingly,throbbing feeling down there. You have been warned.

My first exposure to Joan Jett (no, not THAT kind, you pervy lot) came in the early 80s with her & The Blackhearts's version of "I Love Rock & Roll." Pretty standard for all sniveling brats of my era, I supposes, but I was taken by JJ's attitude and snarl. Over the course of my subsequent musical education, I became acquainted with and appreciative of various bits & pieces of the Runaways story, hagiography, and oeuvre. But the film really pulled it all together and put everything into place; the lineage from glam to punk, the hard graft, the shit, the dedication, the insecurity, the passion, the attitude.

So when I saw that Joan Jett & The Blackhearts were playing the PNE in my Beloved Vancouver on 27 August, well, I just had to go, didn't I? So my chum Dearest Lorena and I and headed out to enjoy all that the Fair had to offer - landmines, pigs, newborn calves ripped from their mothers at Safeway Farmland (vegetarianism beckons), deep-fried Mars Bars, and the finest rock 'n' roll going. JJ took the stage looking small and tough in skinny black jeans and Chuck Taylors to a screaming audience comprised of small children, fortysomethings, lesbians, and me. The crowd went wild, and JJ greeted it by dedicating the show to her mother, who had died the previous morning.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Gasp.

Silence.

Pins drop. Clangingly.

And then she rips with no quarter into "Bad Reputation," followed by "Cherry Bomb." I cream my jeans, along with every little nobody shit in the crowd. Each number is a stormer, from the earnest, self penned "Change the World" to the plethora of covers on which JJ&B have built their kick-ass reputation.

The following day I found myself in Vancouver's mighty Neptoon Records, chatting with the owner while negotiating the purchase of a Fall album and some obscure 60s garage compilation. He relates that some friends of his who had attended the gig reported arsely that JJ really doesn't have enough original material to sustain a full show. I venture that they were fucking prog rock geeks who had missed the fucking point. Sure, much of what JJ & co played covered hallowed ground ("Crimson & Clover," 'I Love Rock & Roll"). But it was played with heart, verve, passion, and belief that exceeded everything the songs' progenitors had ever put into them. And her original compositions, while perhaps not always up to the technical perfection of those of her ancestors, were heartfelt, honest, and fully meant. So fuck you, friends of Neptoon Records owner. JJ means it, maaaaan.

When I got home that night, I picked up the dust-coated guitar my Dearest Father-in-Law had given to me two years ago, plugged it into my heretofore dormant amp, turned everything up to eleven, and for the first time ever strummed out a few discordant, uneducated chords. It felt electric good, like nothing else ever.

I love rock & roll. And Joan Jett.

Joan Jett with Evil Stig - Crimson & Clover (buy here or e-here)
Cover of a cover born of a benefit collaboration between Joan Jett and members of Seattle's The Gits in memory of the group's lead singer, Mia Zapata, who was raped and murdered.

Joan Jett with Steve Jones & Paul Cook of the Sex Pistols - I Love Rock & Roll (buy here or e-here)
I know, all you 80s brats out there think this here song was penned by JJ herself. Well, it was actually written & recorded in 1975 by a UK band called The Arrows. Joan wanted to record it with The Runaways, but her bandmates weren't keen. So in 1979 she partnered with Messrs Cook & Jones to record it. Though this version never got a release, it got heavy rotation and wild audience appreciation on the mighty 92.7 WLIR.

And finally, here's a tune I had clear forgotten about until Joan launched into it at the PNE. Penned by La Jett along with Paul Westerberg, it's a beaut:

It's Still Paul Haig Day Over Here

2010-04-06T23:09:00.005-07:00

By my watch it's 11:10 PM here in Vancouver, which means I'm still in time to add my voice to the second annual Paul Haig Day. The event was born out of a DMCA takedown notice received by the marvelous JC, aka The Vinyl Villain. Rather than retell the story, pop on over here to get the full meal deal. Indeed, I'm not sure I can really add much to what has already been said in the blogosphere to commemorate the event - heck, even the song I've posted I'm sure has already been tacked up by someone more prolific these days than I am.

So then, why do I care enough to take part, and why should you? OK, to distill it down to the key points:

Haig produced some of Scotland's finest indie pop, and continues to do so - sign up to his label's mailing list at Rhythm Of Life
Unlike many of his fellow musicians, Haig is a keen supporter of the blogging community and has been very gracious in allowing bloggers to post his oeuvre
His first band, Josef K, is named after the protagonist in Franz Kafka's The Trial, a masterpiece whose nightmarishly absurd story has similarities to the music industry's campaign against bloggers.

If you want more reasons (and it's in your interest to), then drop by The Vinyl Villain, read up, and visit the many fine blogfolk who've participated in Paul Haig Day II.

Josef K - Sorry For Laughing (buy here)
Paul has become quite disenchanted with his first band's output, but apparently he makes an exception for this track. Which is good, coz it's one of my favourites of his. And if you want to viddy the vid in all its jelly-belly goodness:

Let's Get Nekkid

2010-03-23T01:18:00.008-07:00

Oh my! I've been roused out of my torpor not only because Dearest Marcy and Dearest Tricia --two of the finest examples of female pulchritude and luminosity in the podcast/blogosphere firmament-- provided the ever titillating Contrast Podcast's most recent theme, but also because that theme happens to be: Naked!! I mean, if you can't get excited by the prospect of wodges of excellent choonz coupled with the heady, free rush of nudity, then your soul must be a dry, withered thing, indeed.

Speaking of dry, withered things, this CP reminded me of a little beach walk I took with my then-five-year-old Darling Daughter soon after we arrived in Vancouver. We happened to be up by the University of British Columbia and I vaguely recalled that there was a beach nearby. Sure enough, I soon found the steep, looooong flight of stairs that wound down the steep, wooded path to Wreck Beach. It wasn't until we had nearly completed the tiring descent that I ran into the sign posted at the top of this post. Ah, I had forgotten that this point at the westernmost tip of the university peninsula was bastion of naturism...

For a moment I considered retracing our steps, wondering if it would be awkward to continue on down with a child. But I swiftly thought better of it; meh, if she asks, I'll tell. So we continued on down. Sure enough, we were pretty much the only ones who'd exercised our option to stay clothed. But Darling Daughter was oblivious to both the drumming, fire-juggling hippies and the dry, withered, and wrinkly senior citizens out for their constitutionals. Instead, she was all about the shells and seaweed and sand - y'know, the beachy stuff. And I felt stupid for having considered, even for just a second, turning around...

Anyway, head over here if you want to catch last week's first installment of nudity, and over here if you want to bare yourself to this week's naturist offerings, a teaser of which I offer you below:

(00:00) Billy Mitchell - The bumble bee invaded a nudist colony
Tim from The face of today

(03:49) Iron and Wine - Naked as we came
Linda from Speed of Dark

(06:41) Vargas Blues Band - Striptease
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

(10:18) Judge Dread - Take off your clothes
The In Crowd from I’m learning to share!

(17:38) The Orb - S.A.L.T.
SAS Radio

(25:26) Artie Malvin and Lois Winters - Dressing myself
Mike from Wearedust

(28:45) The Weather Prophets - Naked as the day you were born
John Q.

(34:44) Depeche Mode - Stripped
Conrad from Eron Records

(38:56) Barenaked Ladies - Alcohol
James from Appetite For Distraction

(43:35) Hilary - Drop your pants
FiL from Pogoagogo

(50:04) Jesse Matheson - Nothing at all
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

My offering is a bit of New Wave synth naughtiness from Hilary that got me quite excited when I was a spotty teenager. But I also considered stripping off to these:

Class - We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off (off of the Double Agent 1980 compilation, which I've no idea where to find)
Peter Green and Leigh Tsai take a wistful, tender, indie-as-fuck take on Jermaine Stewart's R&B , erm, classic.

Velocette - Strip Polka (buy here or e-here)
Aww, these lasses delivered some lovely, bright, shimmery pop straight outta Camden in the late 1990s, when the rest of their Wiija labelmates were noisily lurching about.

And finally, as mentioned during my intro, while I was off skiing in the Swiss Alps this January, I lost my iPhone on one of the runs. Thankfully I found it a few hours later, but I quickly realized that someone had used it to record a video. I offer it up to you below for your consideration. Be warned, it deals with nudity and nakedness...

My First Purple Heart

2010-02-25T22:14:00.006-08:00

Well, quite frankly I'm surprised it hasn't happened before. After all, it's been nearly four years that I've been peddling my musical wares for your titillation, and up until now I've been pretty much left alone. But today I was whacked by one of those digital drone attacks that have become all-too-common in the blogosphere, a DMCA C&D, fully known as a Digital Millennium Copyright Act Cease & Desist order.

It seems I was wounded (hence the self-awarded Purple Heart) in the latest spring offensive launched by The Man in His attempt to crush the rag-tag band of music bloggers that he sees as a threat to his way of life. Now, it seems I got off lightly; Blogger merely took the offending post from 9 February offline and flipped it back into Edit mode, while informing me that I was welcome to republish it once the objectionable material was removed. Trouble is, while I was invited to visit Chilling Effect to see the details of the C&D, upon visiting I couldn't find it. Moreover, after perusing the other C&Ds listed, I'm not sure I'd be able to figure out which of the three songs I had offered up was to blame. Two came from PR sources with what I thought was pretty explicit permission to post, but there are Kafkaesque stories galore about bloggers getting blessing from the artist or PR to post, only to find themselves enmeshed in nightmarish battles with rekkid companies who have other ideas. So, having little time or inclination, I just removed all three tracks.

It is actually getting very serious out there; along with a squadron of others, Dearest Coxon of To Die By Your Side recently had his blog shut down. You can read about it all in this Guardian article. Now, I don't intend to add to the steamy indignation out there, largely because my energy is needed elsewhere - like Sunday's demonstration against the evisceration of public education by the BC Government. But let me go on record as stating that I abhor the persecution of bloggers --who by and large are music lovers dedicated to spreading the Gospel of Good Music and putting $$$ into artists' pockets-- by the big record labels and their lackeys. Moreover, the Holy Bible of Copyright that they allege to defend was originally crafted to promote innovation and the flourishing of ideas, not to lock intellectual property up in crates and milk them for decades. I would encourage you to listen to the podcast Who Owns Ideas?, a fantastic Canadian Broadcasting Corporation programme about this very subject. It's a war folks, a war for culture.

Anyway, I'm going to go lick my flesh wound, but in the meantime here are a few tracks to get you stoked:

Sex Pistols - Who was It [aka EMI] (buy here)
Taken from the Spunk bootleg, reissued by Castle, which is now a subsidiary of Universal Music Group. Say, is that the buzz of a drone I hear??

Max Romeo & The Upsetters - War Ina Babylon (buy here or e-here)
It's a war folks, a war for culture.

Ninja High School - It's Gonna Be Us (buy here)
Yep, that's right, we who love tha choonz shall prevail! Ninja High School was a Toronto noisenik outfit that sadly disbanded in 2007. Choose now, Babylon or Zion. IG-88 take the stand!!

Love Is Not A Commodity

2010-02-15T23:46:00.000-08:00

If you've been round here before on or about February 14, you may recall I'm not a big fan of the whole Valentine's Day schtick. It's not that I'm not all about The Lurve and romance - indeed, I'd like more of both, pretty please. It's just that I do not like our economic system dictating to us when and how we get and give it. And this year , thanks to all of the commercialism swilling round town due to the the Olympics, I was even more crotchety than usual.

That's not to say Dearest Wife and I didn't use the occasion to attempt to carve out for ourselves a quiet night in with a tasty, simple, home-cooked dinner and a mutually acceptable DVD. Try we did, but as those of you with offspring can attest to, nothing can kill romance dead like bickering, squalling children. By the time the dust had settled, we barely had time to eat dinner and get halfway through the film before bedtime beckoned. Bah and humbug - it's not just for Xmas, you know.

But despite my spite, I still do love you all, so here are a few apposite tunes for us to frug to in a cool-ass-funk, post-punk-with-extra-added goth stylee. Mwah, mwah!!

Gang of Four - Is It Love? [Extended Dance Mix] (buy here or get the album versh here)
Put on constant rotation at the mighty WLIR back in the days when it would "Dare To Be Different," this is one of those tracks that covertly shaped and sculpted my musical sensibilities as a wee lad.

Killing Joke - Love Like Blood (buy here)
When I was in 8th grade, I had a secret crush on Angela, the punky goth senior who would slip Killing Joke references into her submissions to the school literary magazine. Le sigh.

Gene Loves Jezebel - Desire (buy here or e-here)
I think the singer manages to stay on the correct side of sounding like a cat in heat. But only just.

Dalek i - Destiny [Dalek I Love You] (buy here but be quick!!)
Aww, those bumpy dustbins of intergalactic terror are quite sweet, really...

Throbbing Gristle - Hot On The Heels Of Love (buy here)
Everybody throb together!!

Sailing into New Seas

2010-02-09T00:12:00.006-08:00

NOTE: On account of me receiving a C&D order under the DCMA for something unspecified in this post, out come the song linky-linx and in go the YouTube feeds instead.

It's true, Dearest Friends, the good ship SS FiL has embarked on a brand new journey, leaving behind my musical doldrums of 2009 and sailing into a shining new sea of tuneful goodness. And speaking of goodness, well... GOODNESS! If you're still sticking around after that forced metaphor, then you deserve a reward.

So far the start of the year seems to be shaping up all fine and poppy. After the idylls of The Idyllists last week, I've got three bouncy bits for you. First up are The Sleepless Nights, four rather hirsute young fellows from Halifax who produce some fine, slackey pop that motors on by, stopping only to pick you up for a laid back, fuzzy, smiley ride. The band appears to have been driving around for several years now, and are currently touring the East Coast (of Canada, you Yankees! Yes, we have one as well.) in support of their latest EP, The Phone Booth Outside The Video Store. This is in fact the second of a planned three EPs which the band are GIVING AWAY!! Are you dancing right now? No?? Well get with the programme, coz everybody is!!

The Sleepless Nights - ~~Everybody's Dancing~~ (download e-here)

Oh well, no vid for this. I doubt this was the track wot did it, but since it's all getting very perverse out there, you'd best just go follow the link to where you can download tha shizz directly.

Next up are (shhhhh!!!) The Secret History. Y'know, every once in awhile a group comes by that manages to pull together all the really good bits of things that have gone before. So you look at them (one NYC indie cult god, a luuurvely lady singer whose dad is a glam-rock icon, and A.N. Other cute gal) and listen to them (think vocals by a Dusty Springfield/Kirsty MacColl/Morrissey genetic experiment wrapped in hooky, twee, glamness and underpinned by parping farsifa and jangly guitars) and you expect to be disgusted by how contrived it all is. But you aren't, because it's so lovely that you want to snuggle down into it and hug it and kiss it and call it your own.

The Secret History - ~~Johnny Anorak~~ (album comes out 22 March, but in the interim you smug Brooklynites can see them perform various gigs in your very own borough)

And finally, those superb Swedes, The Shout Out Louds are about to release their third album of shimmering, heart-plucking, pop beauties. They're supporting it with what seems to be a grueling tour schedule that puts them in Vancouver on 25 May. Yay!! Yay again!!

The Shout Out Louds - ~~Fall Hard~~ (buy their stuff here and e-here)

Were I a betting man, I'd say I think this was the offending track. But who knows...

And speaking of live shows, I'm excited to say that there seems to be a whole queue of excellent folks signed up to play this fair city from now into the spring, starting with the Vivian Girls on 12 Feb at The Biltmore. This particular Olympic Scrooge may well find himself there instead of watching the opening ceremonies...

P.S. Aren't you glad that, despite my opening paragraph, I played neither Christopher Cross, nor Rod Stewart??

Happy New Year

2010-01-29T21:32:00.007-08:00

What did you say, Dearest Friends? It's almost February?? Gadzooks! How did that happen?? Oh well, I suppose it's not yet too late to extend you my heartfelt wishes for a faaabulous 2010, one full of everything that your wonderful hearts desire and that your beautiful souls need.

Truth be told, most of my January was spent confusing my internal clock by slinging myself from timezone to timezone. Indeed, as I type these words I'm going fast, 500 miles per hour, some 38,000 feet in the air over deepest, darkest Saskatchewan. Dearest Mentok, can you see me waving? No?? Oh well, I'd best shut the door before the stewardess gets mad. Only more two hours till glorious Vancouver...

Anyway, back to the New Year. Last year, contrary to my longstanding practice, I made some resolutions, and it would therefore only be right and proper for me to have a look see how I did vis-a-vis my intentions. So, let's have a reckoning, shall we?? And then I might even set some for 2010...

GET IN SHAPE FOR THE 2009 VANCOUVER SUN RUN

Actually, this one I met spectacularly well, if you will allow me to crow, Dearest Friends. I started training with trepidation early in the year, and in the space of four months I went from a wheezing sack of lard unable to run more than two minutes without respiratory, cardiac, and muscular arrest to a somewhat less lardy sack that ran the ten-kilometre Vancouver Sun Run in about 1 hour and 11 minutes. On top of that, I have developed a fairly hardcore addiction to running. Mind you, it has been enabled by the fact that I can run gorgeous routes along Vancouver’s stunning shorelines. That said, I have even set out on the gritty, grotty, grim streets of Toronto, so I suppose I am truly infected with the sickness.

At the same time I was getting hooked, I was following the trials of my aforementioned Dearest Friend, Mentok of Saskatchewan. He had embarked on the South Beach Diet and appeared to be meeting with remarkable success in shedding pounds. While the running was getting me fitter and had resulted in some de-larding, I still felt I could do better. Now I have always been a diet sceptic, but I was particularly intrigued since Mentok is an eminently reasonable chap, not given to flibbertigibbety flights of faddy fancy. So after consulting with him, I embarked on the same path. I shan’t go into the mechanics, Dearest Friends, but it worked. I stand before you some 55 lbs, three trouser sizes, and 1.5 collar inches less of a man than I was a year ago. My whole eating software has been rewritten and I feel great. Never better, in fact. At least physically…

START TAKING GEE-TARR LESSONS

Oh my, total fail on this one. The gee-tarr is still sitting in the corner, untouched, silently gathering dust. But this Christmas Dearest Father-In-Law gave me an amp and a wah-wah pedal to go with it. So this may very well be the year that I do it. In fact, why don’t I make it my first resolution of 2010??

LISTEN TO MORE MUSIC

Erm, another fail, methinks. Somehow 2009 seemed to largely pass me by. Yes, I realize that dabbling in music bloggery can make one unhealthily worried about keeping up with the musical internet Joneses, but I do feel I missed out on shedloads of good stuff. This year I’ll pay more attention. Promise. Another one back on the list...

VOLUNTEER, COS TALKING ABOUT CHANGE ISN'T ENOUGH

Oh dear, didn’t do too well on this one either. Yes, I did volunteer for the Vancouver Folk Music Festival again, and I did work my patootie off during the fest weekend. However, it was in exchange for the major perks of seeing loads of grand music and chatting with the sweet Basia Bulat. Hardly world-saving, is it?? Sigh, must try harder.

SORT OUT THAT THING I SHOULD HAVE SORTED OUT AGES AGO

Ah yes, this was the tough one. Facing a demon that, quite literally, for years caused my knees to go weak, my sweat to flow, and my guts to turn to water. For a while it looked like I wouldn’t be able to do it. I was too scared of my own failings. Then something happened that brought me right to the door of Room 101, so I seized the doorknob, twisted it, and went in. It was a stressful couple of weeks in there. Migrane-inducing stressful. Dearest Wife, Darling Daughter, and Little Man endured a crabby, cranky FiL. But I did it.

And it was OK. Yay.

On balance, then, two abso-fucking-lute successes, one miserable fail, and two not-quite-so-abject failiures. So the list for 2010 is gonna look pretty familiar:

Learn how to play the electric guitar. In a punk rawk stylee. Nuff said.
Volunteer. For something other than the Folk Festival. Also ‘nuff said.
Tell more stories. This blog was started in large part as an outlet for me to tell my stories, to write them up on a virtual bathroom wall for y’all to see. Last year, despite some very obvious highs, life unfolded such that my stories got all bottled up inside. And they’re sitting there uncomfortably, needing to come out…
More music.

Let me stop there, Dearest Friends. Oh, I could list more: be a good father/spouse/son, become authentic, etcetera. But in keeping with true corporate management indoctrination, let’s keep those goals SMART: Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, and Timely.

Right, let me get cracking on resolution #4:

Buzzcocks - Promises (buy here)
I hereby promise to keep my resolutions. If I don't, you can roger me sideways with a dead ferret.

The Idyllists - Let's Fly Away (buy the new album here or e-here)
I discovered these lads in my e-mail inbox, all thirsty and hungry as they'd been sitting there for several weeks. The least I thought I could do was give them a listen, and I'm glad I did, as they are a warm & bright pop tonic for the winter months. California goodness mixed with solid Brit sensibilities, with a dash of retro nostalgia for good (great?) measure.

Nothing People - Enemy With An Invitation (buy here)
Oh wow, this is grand - all stark and sweeping and relentless and loud with a burst of the old feedy-backy right at the end. Like an army of those wind-up Japanese tin robots. Only speaking English.

IT'S CHRIIIIIST-MAAAAASSSSS!!!

2009-12-24T12:29:00.005-08:00

Waitaminit, that St Nick looks vaguely familiar...

Dearest Friends, here's wishing you a very Happy Christmas and Season's Greetings (as appropriate). I can think of no better way to tell you how wonderful I think you all are than to share with you five of my all-time favourite Chrimbo choonz. If you were here in past years you'll know they're reposts, but enjoy them anyway.

May you get exactly what you want in your stocking. See you after the hols.

The Vandals - Oi To The World (buy here or e-here)
Peter & The Test Tube Babies - I'm Getting Pissed For Christmas (buy here or e-here)
Jacob Miller - All I Want For Ismas (buy here or e-here)
Holly Golightly - Christmas Tree On Fire (buy e-here)
Heat Miser - The Heat Miser Song (buy here)

P.S. There is no Slade here. Apologies to those who were deceived by the title.

The Christmas Invasion

2009-12-22T22:17:00.002-08:00

A Roswell reindeer. I barely escaped with my life.

Whoa, so, like, what is it about Chrimbo that makes folks do alien things? Like, drink appalling concoctions such as Baileys, eggnog, and gingerbread lattes. Or spend mind-numbing hours packed into sickening malls along with thousands of others? Or think that a Chia Obama makes the perfect gift??

It must be them space reindeer. Once they lull us into a holiday stupor, they'll laser us with their shiny noses and use us as fodder for their young.

But it doesn't have to be that way; the resistance can start right here:

Just say "No" to eggnog...

Shonen Knife - Space Christmas (buy here)
The Bellrays - Rocket Ship Santa (buy e-here)
Alien Sex Fiend - Stuff The Turkey (buy here or e-here)

Don't Need No Spirit

2009-12-12T00:20:00.007-08:00

So this is Christmas. No no, please don't scurry away, I promise you: no more John Lennon!! OK? Are we friends again? Have you stopped screaming?? Good.

I was looking back at my Chrimbo posts from last year and I was struck by how Grinchian and grumpy they were! My goodness, pre-visitation Scrooge had NOTHING on FiL circa December 2008. Much of that was due to circumstances; I shan't go into details, but it was one of those burdensome Yuletides where I knew no matter what happened it was likely to end in stress and tears. Paint that over my inherent dislike of the frenetic consumerism of the season and the overpowering imperative to get into the CHRISTMAS SPIRIT, and I think that just about explains my attitude.

This year it ain't so bad. Our plans are very simple and revolve around our nuclear family. Moreover, I've decided that if the spirit moves me, great. If not, that's fine too. What I'm trying to focus on instead is finding opportunities amongst the Xmas hubbub to share time and enjoy being with thems that matter to me. And so far it's been so good; last weekend I went shopping with Darling Daughter on one of my favourite drags, Main Street. We shopped here and here and here, then we went to the Rhizome Cafe where we had an excellent brunch and I told her about community activism and the power of art. Right on. Then tomorrow morning the whole family is ascending Grouse Mountain for a party thrown by my workplace. There will be lashings of pancakes and eggs and sausages and bacon, and Santa will appear and give out presents. And tomorrow evening Dearest Wife & I are off to a kids-free Chrimbo knees-up. Shit, this year is looking OK...

Since I'm of such good humour at the moment, Dearest Friends, may I invite you to share some noisy good cheer in the garage? I always like to venture in there at least once during the season.

The Dollyrots - (buy here)
Wild Billy Childish & The Musicians of the British Empire - Dear Santa Claus (buy here or e-here)
New Bomb Turks - Christmas [Baby, Please Come Home] (buy here)
The Chesterfield Kings - Hey Santa Claus (buy here or e-here)
The Fleshtones - Run, Rudolph, Run (buy here or e-here)

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Toystore

2009-12-05T19:50:00.001-08:00

Pieces of childhood

Little Man has been having a few issues at school as of late. An incompetent teacher with the organizational skills of a headless chicken. Work that's frankly waaay too advanced for 75% of the class. And classmates who've taken to taunting him so as to provoke a reaction that usually gets him into trouble.

Sigh. It's tough being seven.

At a meeting between Dearest Wife, myself, Mrs Headless Chicken and The School Principal (who is an awesome steel fist in a velvet glove), it came out that Little Man really enjoys playing with the class supply of Lego. So that got me thinking...

Back at home, I stood on my tippy-tip-toes and pulled down a large, dusty plastic bag from our bedroom closet. I called out to Little Man that he should shut his eyes tight, then I went to the playroom where he was desperately trying not to peek. I gave him the bag, and let him look. His eyes grew wide...

Inside was my entire childhood collection of Lego, a multicoloured jumble of plastic bricks 'n' bits with which I used to construct entire universes. I had brought the whole lot over to Vancouver from New York after years of nagging from Mother to "deal with my stuff in the basement." I had been long intending to pass it on to Little Man, but the right moment had never presented itself. Until now.

We immediately embarked on building a police station, complete with windows, swingy doors, and Lego homunculi. As I rummaged through the bag, looking for THAT precise piece, I began to find bits of unexpected flotsam from my childhood.

A quiver from a Playmobil Indian.

A wooden Tinkertoy connector.

A skipole from a GI Joe arctic warfare set.

A rocket from a James Bond "The Spy Who Loved Me" Lotus Esprit Sportscar Submarine.

Tokens from a London Underground boardgame.

Each unexpected artefact brought with it a concentrated shot of memories, nostalgia, and vivid feelings. It was all actually a bit disconcerting. Thank goodness I had Little Man and a half-built police station to keep me anchored.

Pianosaurus - A Funny Thing Happened On The way To The Toystore (buy here or e-here)
The Maccabees - Lego (buy here)

Tra La La La La I'm Not Listening

2009-11-14T22:43:00.001-08:00

Oh, for fuck's sake. I know I've been preoccupied with this 'n' that as of late (children - can't you put them on autopilot or something??), but I wasn't expecting this quite so soon. No, not at all. You see, I was starting to come to grips with the falling leaves and the falling temperatures and the early falling of darkness. I was falling into Fall. But just as I thought I had the fall under control, I was mugged. Most brutally and painfully.

Little Man & I had popped into our local Shoppers Drug Mart (yes folks, it's true, here in laid-back Vancouver we have retail stores selling weed, shrooms, and skag on open shelves) to pick up some codeine tabs for Dearest Wife and her irrepressible bronchitis cough. As we wended our way through aisles of pomade, unguent, powders and carbolic soap, my gaze was wrenched by a display of Toffifee boxes with smiling, rosy-cheeked fat men in red suits.

OMFG! IT'S STARTED!! THEY'RE SELLING CHRISTMAS!! ALREADY!!!

As I reeled in amazement, I was sucker-punched in the ears by a mawkishly mewled version of that bane of Yuletide music: Last Christmas. To make it worse, it was some dreadful cover version - The Cheetah Girls, I think. It were 'orrible, it were.

Sigh. It all seems so desperate, so tawdry: c'mon folks, get into the Chrimbo spirit! Do your bit to prop up global capitalism! Spend spend SPEND your way outta recession! Here, start with this delicious Toffifee...

And THAT song!! Argh!! Truth be told, there are some fine versions of it out there, which I suppose means that the tune itself has some merit. Shame Messrs Ridgeway and Michaels butchered it from the get go. Here, have a listen to these (if you've not been round here for Xmas before), whack one or two on your Xmas partee playlist, and watch Aunt Edna whizz it up:

Xmas Massacre - Last Christmas (buy e-here)
A pretty ripping take by a mysterious Norwegian ska-punk outfit

The Revolvers - Last Christmas (dunno where you can get it, but it looks like this)
Best. Version. Ever. Even if it's by some superannuated German punks.

Jimmy Eat World - Last Christmas (buy here or e-here)
We wish you an emo Christmas...

Sigh again. Christmas has always been something I prefer far more in theory than in practice...

Streaming

2009-10-16T21:21:00.004-07:00

6:50 AM, 16/10/09

So the past two weeks have been one blurry stream of numbers and anxiety and cortisol pump pump pumping through my screaming veins, sweeping all else aside. A bitter soup that fed deep, not wholly rational fears. A contrast medium that highlighted my shortcomings.

Heh. And just when I thought I was getting back on track round here.

But yesterday a high water mark was reached and the flow has subsided. For now. And I shall use the clarity afforded to consider those shortcomings...

But this morning, driving to work through a phosphene image of street light traffic light tail light against the a dark, rainy predawn of a dawn that ended up never really breaking, I could still feel the slightly sickening buzz at the back of my head. Twin Crystals provided a focus. Of sorts.

Twin Crystals - Children (buy here or here)

Champagne, Girls, & Hearts

2009-09-30T22:33:00.002-07:00

Ich trinke champers mit Herzfisch, sagt niddynoo...

I took yesterday's weather as a sign that it was finally time to purge the last of the summer backlog and get on with matters at hand. The day had started abysmally: suffocated by a smoky grey pall of clouds and drenched in the hard, cold rain that the Pacific Northwest does so well. By mid-morning I was convinced it'd never get truly light, and the subsequent fierce gritting of pea-hail that set off the car alarms outside seemed purely gratuitous. I was musing that summer was well and truly over, when the clouds and hail and rain were suddenly ripped off like a dirty bandage to reveal a newly healed blue sky and a defiantly bright sun.

So one more chance, then.

Lest you think from previous posts that the summer was spent in a hippy-folk haze, I'll have you know that I found time in my schedule for other popular beat combos, thank you very much. In late July I toodled down The Biltmore (a venue I like more in theory than in practice) to see The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, with whom I had fallen in love earlier in the year. I shan't wax prolific, but suffice to say that they were charming and lovely and wonderful. Their fuzzy dreampop washed off the stage and over the audience like frothy waves of happy ache and yearning, while the band members themselves were graciously sincere and seemed genuinely pleased to be playing to us. Big, warm hugs all round.

The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart - Young Adult Friction (buy here or e-here)

Then there were the opening bands. First up were TPOBPAH labelmates Champagne Socialists, who I mistrusted from the start. Several slightly awkward lads (one apparently of rather good Glaswegian gang Bricolage) strummed and drummed, while a singer with a passing resemblance to Amy Winehouse went through the motions in an uncomfortably am-dram stylee. Oh dear. So imagine my surprise when I downloaded their 'Teardrop Tattoo' and found that their meh stage presence seemed to have camouflaged a pop song that, while rough around the edges, was actually rather evocative and tweely catchy, what with its "woo-ooo-ooo-ooo-oohs" and all. Apparently in the last month or so they've decided to call themselves Neverever, should you be inclined to investigate further. I might be.

Champagne Socialists - Teardrop Tattoo (a 7-inch single for you here)

Next up we had Girls. No, not those kind - it wasn't that sort of a show. I'm talking about two fellows from San Francisco who spun some fine songs out of strands of dreampop, the 1960s, melancholy, bittersweetness, and shimmer. Truth be told, I was unimpressed at first listen. But as thes stood their ground and worked their magic, I was drawn in and found myself both liking it and wondering why I did, particularly since some of their songs did go on for a while. I guess it was all of those beautiful strands...

Girls - Hellhole Ratrace (debut album slated for release on 6 Oct and you can get it here)

Right, summer is now officially over.

Big 'n' Hairy

2009-09-19T08:00:00.004-07:00

Ladies & Gentlemen, whether you like it or not...HEDWIG!!

Dearest Friends, it's time to toss your tresses, shake your split ends, and fluff your fringes, coz this week Contrast Podcast has gone all hairy. Yes, this episode is dedicated to all things hirsute and hispid, so get ready for some Vidal Sassoon stylin' and download the grizzled goodness here.

The full range of tonsorial services on offer:

(00:00) PJ Harvey - Hair
Tim from The face of today

(04:20) The Heart Strings - Nina and her very long hair
Kevin

(08:31) Ron Sexsmith - Strawberry blonde
Jeremy from Fingertips

(13:35) The Who - Cut my hair
Adam from Pretending life is like a song

(18:12) The Pretenders - Don’t cut your hair (live on later)
Chris from Culture Bully

(20:49) Cinderpop - Blonder
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(24:02) Timbuk3 - Hairstyles and attitudes
The In Crowd from I’m learning to share!

(28:05) The Divine Comedy - Bernice bobs her hair
Robert Todd

(33:07) The Early November - Hair
James from Appetite For Distraction

(36:42) One Trick Pony - Scary hairy song
Tricia

(39:11) Barbagallo - Wait
Eiron from Casting the Net

(44:22) Mikrofisch - Bad hair days
Linda from Speed of Dark

(49:26) Fosca - The Millionaire of your own hair
John Q

(55:40) Hum - I’d like your hair long
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(01:01:31) Stevie Nicks - Gold and braid
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

(01:08:32) Still Life Still - Planets
Tart from Love Shack, Baby

(01:13:22) Queensryche - Almost cut my hair
Natalie from Mini-Obs

(01:18:42) Vini Reilly - Hairdresser on fire
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(01:24:04) Hedwig & The Angry Inch - Wig in a box
FiL from Pogoagogo

I had to go with my choice because I've long wanted to contribute a song from Hedwig, one of my most favourite films of all times. Fantastic music, a glorious plot, journeys, self-doubt, authenticity, inauthenticity, trust, love, betrayal - ZOMG, it has it all. And Hedwig herself is a personal hero of mine. Someday I hope to see it in its original staged incarnation.

But as usual, there were other potential choices:

The Locust - Hairspray Suppository (buy here or e-here)
In the end I figured this bit of speedcore chicanery from San Diego's wierdest might be a bit too much.

The Exploders - Put On Your Wig (buy here or e-here)
I seem to have been submitting a fair bit of garage punk of late, so these Toronto racketeers were denied.

Despite my limited output here on pogo a go-go of late, I never missed a single opportunity to submit to the Contrast Podcast. That's not meant as a brag, but rather as an indication of how wonderful I think the CP Nation is. The folks who contribute are a fantastic group of folks, and the eclectic musical joy they contribute is soul-enhancing. Dearest TiM is a demigod for putting it all together for an amazing three-and-a-half years!! And the chance it offers me to dig deep into the cluttered, absurd depths of my mind to pul out my intros has probably been lifesaving. Several of you have said kind words aboutthem, and it gives me unbridled pleasure to think that you might find them amusing. For those of you who find them tedious, I do apologize and hope that your podcast player of choice has an easily operated fast-forward function.

In celebration of the Contrast Podcast (BTW, in case you've never listened and are having difficulty catching the subtext: GO LISTEN NOW!!! THEN CONTRIBUTE!!!!) and in penance for my silence here, I offer you a smattering of tracks that were recently in the running for submission:

Shonen Knife - Cycling Is Fun (buy here or e-here)
Almost made it into CP 178. I luv Shonen Knife and their "Ramones-meets-Peanut-Sisters" vibe. Off to see them next month - w00t!! Peter & The Test Tube Babies - Banned From The Pub (buy here or e-here)
A contender for CP 180, coz you play darts in pubs, so some classic English pub punk would have been in order.

Stereolab - Outer Bongolia (buy here or e-here)
Possible destination for CP 179, as it was the closest I could get to Mongolia in song (Tuvan throat singing aside). But one day I shall visit for real, oh yes...

The Specials - (The Dawning Of) A New Era (buy here)
Though an old track, I considered it for CP 176. Well, I remember it sounding new and fresh to me at some point in my yoof...

Where The Hell Are You???

2009-09-12T01:06:00.001-07:00

Here I am, closer than I appear.

Dearest Friends, that's the question Dearest JC posed below. Short, sweet, and shot straight. And it's one I thought best answered by a comeback, plarticularly since he mentioned me in a very kind post of his a few days ago. But how to make my re-entrance? Where to begin?? What to say???

You don't want the litany of reasons, primarily because it'd be pretty banal. An uninspiring mix of work, laundry, garden watering, erranding, that amounts to the taxing reality of summer bachelorhood. Admittedly, there is also the running, which might be a story worth telling, but not now. Suffice to say I've wanted to spend more time here, and the evidence can be found in the half-formed bits of prose that are moldering in the corners of my Blogger "Edit Posts" box. And in my frustration - les visible, but most tangible.

So, I think I have it now -- it's time for a cleanout, a pump 'n' dump, a spray 'n' pray. They will necessarily be the abridged versions (and there still may be some mold stuck to them), but here's the first from the pile of what might have been over the past weeks/months:

I have a terminal weakness for compilation CDs. They make me feel all savvy & clever, getting a brace of killah-not-fillah tracks from multiple bands, all for the price --sometimes discounted-- of one disc. Yes, I know these days you can achieve the same by trawling the net and sampling its wares. Yes, I admit that often the killah to fillah ratio is low. But yah boo sucks to all that, I still love them.

The problem is that I usually get fixated on two or three tracks, and pay scant attention to the rest. Take the "Yes New York" CD that on a whim I tossed into the car stereo the other week. When I got it back in 2003, I locked in on Radio 4's "Save Your City," "Olio" by The Rapture, and DFA's remix of Le Tigre's "Deceptacon." So tracks 2, 8, and 14 got heavy, heavy rotation. Fast forward to 2009 and imagine my utter surprise when track 4 grabs me by the ears and shouts in my face:

I'VE BEEN HERE ALL ALONG AND I'M TOTALLY FUCKING AWESOME!!!

A squealy intro of feedback. Chugging guitar, Fizzing distort,. Shouty vocals. Densely erudite, eloquent lyrics that sliced straight through flesh to plug directly into my soul.

Today I woke up uncertain
And you know that gives me the fits
So I left this land of fungible convictions
Because it seemed like the pits
And when I say, "conviction" I mean it's something to abjure
And when I say "uncertain" I mean to doubt I'll not turn out a caricature

My God, in a flash I got this song so utterly, so completely. I made that trip. It was a pure epiphany, and the only thing the white light/white heat couldn't completely drown out was the little voice screaming "What the Hell took you so LONG???" at me.

So now I'm somewhat obsessed with this song. Somewhat? I mean totally.

Ted Leo & The Pharmacists - The Ballad Of The Sin Eater (buy here or e-here)

And so begins the return. Thanks, Dearest JC, for kicking me up the jacksie. It feels good to be back. To misquote another track that's had heavy airplay in the FiLmobile of late: I won't fade away...

Joy Division - Digital (buy here)

I've Been To The Folk Festival

2009-08-20T23:39:00.001-07:00

The Rev. Peyton & his lovely wife, Breezy
Vancouver Folk Music Festival, 16 July 2009
Picture nicked from bswift

Dearest Friends, you won’t believe what happened to me! There I was, minding my own business, when all of a sudden I was abducted by a gang of hippies and folkies! It’s true!! I was held captive for three days during which I was fed nothing but patchouli, quinoa, and Pete Seeger. But that was just the beginning! After they had their wicked way with my innocence, they sold me into the slavery of Real Life!! Oh, the horror!! For a brief while I escaped on holiday, but as I was beginning to recuperate, Real Life found me hiding on an island and once again shackled me to a grindstone. Not the least comfortable grindstone I’ve ever been shackled to, but a grindstone nonetheless. Now I’ve been given a ten-minute loo break, which I’ve chosen to share with you, my lovelies!!

Right, I promised last time to tell you all about the Folk Festival, didn’t I? Well, I had a fantastic time - but not really for all the same reasons as previous years. You see, when I first started going to the Fest, it was purely for the music. Then I started volunteering, and my motivation became 80% music and 20% the volunteer “experience.” Well, this year I was surprised to find that I was equally rewarded by both aspects. Upon reflection, this was partly due to the fact that I wasn’t as galvanized by the music as in previous years; some of it left me unmoved, most of it I enjoyed mildly, and almost nothing triggered an epiphany.

Probably what surprised me the most was Arrested Development, who put on a series of intelligent, uplifting, and storming performances. I had long thought that gangsta and corporate bling had exterminated the Daisy Age in the hip hop wars, but I was inspired to see that there is still a guerrilla campaign of positivity being waged. In addition to their stonking headline on Friday’s main stage, AD’s core participated in a soulful Saturday morning session with Jamaican word warrior d’bi young (whose raw, defiant broadside against sexual violence both chilled and inspired), reggae poet Mutabaruka (righteous, if occasionally heavy-handed), and lyrical activist / mother Lisa Garza (who nearly made me cry).

I had wanted to catch Basia Bulat, but scheduling meant I only saw her perform a couple of songs. However, I later bumped into her eating an ice cream (she likes vanilla, BTW) and had a sweet little chat with her about our common Polish heritage. You see, the Fest is like that: you just run into artists, moreso if you're volunteering. In the kitchen tent I had another nice conversation with veteran Glaswegian firebrand folkie Dick Gaughan (reference: he sings with Billy Bragg on 'The Red Flag' off of BB's 'Internationale' EP). I asked him if he was going to play 'Stand Up For Judas,' which a friend of mine gave me in high school on a compilation tape that was one of my earliest exposures to Billy Bragg. He replied that he no longer played it live after discovering years ago that fans were bringing their religious friends to his gigs to shock them with the song. Though he was critical of religion, Dick didn't want to insult for the sake of insulting, even inadvertently, so he dropped the song from his set. Alas, shift timing meant I couldn't listen to what is in his set these days.

Still in Scotland, The Proclaimers put in an appropriately energetic set on Saturday night's Main Stage. Yes, all the songs you'd expect at one of their gigs were performed, including (natch) 'I'm Gonna Be,' which set the folkie crowd dancing in a sorta gawky pogo-helicopter stylee. A big, crowd-pleasing performance it was, and one that I found pleasant, if largely for reasons of nostalgia.

So, what moved me? Well, I was seriously impressed by Matt Andersen, a mountainous bluesman from New Brunswick whose voice he summons up from somewhere elemental Down South. I only saw him for a few songs, but they were something else. I also enjoyed Kate Reid, but not for the reasons you might expect. Kate does a good line in dyke-folk, in a sorta Ferron-meets-Indigo-Girls-meets-Ani-DiFranco-on-the-edge stylee. Which isn't admittedly my favourite idiom. But what got me was that she has soul. By which I mean she was earnest, righteous, determined, vulnerable, uncertain, honest, funny, witty, direct, unabashed, and celebratory, all at once. After seeing her I wanted to go out, right some wrongs , and hug people along the way.

My one moment of pure epiphany came, appropriately enough, on Sunday morning when I attended the hootin' & hollerin' service of Reverend Peyton & His Big Damn Band. Oh yeeeeeaaahhhhh!! With Reverend P pickin' on gee-tarr, his brother Jayme on drums and pickle barrel, and his wife Breezy on washboard, the Big Damn Band pumped out an electrifying mixture of punk, bluegrass, delta blues, country, and moonshine. This was a stompin' revival meeting at which the Holy Spirit Of Music descended and whacked you upside the head until you spoke in tongues and became a true believer! And just to make the point, Breezy set fire to her washboard during the last song. Phew!!

But enough about the music. At least half of the reason I enjoyed the Festival so truly, madly, deeply was that I had a blast hanging out with, and basking in the glory of, all the wild, weird, and wonderful people I met while volunteering. I once heard the Festival described as a sort of Brigadoon: a magical community that appears once every while out of seeming nothingness, then disappears suddenly, leaving you wondering if you ever really had been there. Now, with few exceptions (i.a. Sweeney Todd, Threepenny Opera, Little Shop of Horrors) I despise musicals, but I think the comparison is entirely appropriate. So a big shout-out to the Chess Nut, Frank the Prof, Magnificent Mairghread and her Team Z Commandos (who came to my aid as I shouted for backup chasing a crazed rogue cyclist through the crowd), Jennifer the Space Station Tracker, Mike the Dipsomaniac, Wistaria, Pascal, all of Team G, and the rest of the exotic fauna I omitted to mention. Slumber well until next year.

Right, loo break over - back to the grindstone. But here, have a few of these:

The Rev. Peyton's Big Damn Band - DTs Or The Devil (buy here or e-here)
Are DTs AND the Devil an option? Cuz I think it's both...

Matt Andersen - Tell Me (buy here)
He deserves to be huge.

Arrested Development - Revolution (buy here)
Get on up!

Kate Reid - Uncharted Territory (buy here)
This is the song that sold me on Kate.

Dick Gaughan - Stand Up For Judas (buy here or e-here)
One of those songs that takes what you know and tilts it on it's end for a different view.

Liza Garza - My Everything (cannae find anything of hers for sale!!)
This is the song that choked me up at the Festival. She sang it acapella, and quite frankly I think the backing music lessens the power. Here, look at this instead - this is much more like it. And yes, she choked up at the Fest as well:

Folksiness

2009-07-14T23:18:00.006-07:00

The VFMF mascot, Pete Seagull. Can't beat folky humour...

Egads, where have I been all this time? Well, Dearest Friends, abroad for a good chunk of it. Abroad for me and many of you, in yer backyard for some. You see, I was in the good ole U.S. of A with the family, visiting Mother. Almost two weeks we were there, staying on the upper fluke of Long Island's tail like sea lice on a whale. And I had intended to tell y'all all about it, honest. But the whole trip became so wrapped up and impacted and encased in baggage that the story grew hard to tell without scratchy rawness and muddle and destructive emotions. I did try for the past week, mind you, thinking that forcing it out into the light of blog would disentangle it, make it easier to reconcile the strands. However, all my attempt just ended up in frustratingly tighter knots. Sigh, and fuckit...

So then, let's talk about shinier, happier stuff. And what's shinier and happier than MUSIC, hmm?? This weekend coming up is one I've been looking forward to all year, because it's that of the annual Vancouver Folk Music Festival!! Yay!! As you may recall from here and here, I've grown very fond of the Festival and is broadly stretchy definition of "folk" (Celtic fiddles? Check. Bhangra? Check. Dub? Check.) , so much so that this year will mark my third as a volunteer. In return for 12 hours of putting life & limb on the line as a security pig, I get to go for free and get fed mung bean soup! W to the O to the O to the T!!

Undoubtedly it'll be someone I never heard of who blows me away (cf Old Man Luedecke, Rodney DeCroo, and Abigail Washburn), but as usual there are a few acts in the lineup who I'm interested in seeing for one reason or another. Winnipeg's folk-funk-popsters The Weakerthans I've been keen to see for a while now. Likewise Basia Bulat, over whom many of my lovely blogobuddies have been drooling for some time. Los de Abajo promise to offer up a mix of Mexican mariachiness and ska - how can one resist that?? And it will be interesting to see Arrested Development (yes, Mr Wendel's friends) show off their daisy-age hip hop (remember: "broadly stretchy definition of folk") as they promote their first North American album in 12 years.

And then there are The Proclaimers. Um, yes...

Why the hesitation? Well, as a yoof I loved their debut LP, "This Is The Story" (especially the brilliant rant against linguistic fascism, "Throw the 'R' Away"), their frantically earnest singing, their Red politics, and their engaging live performances. "Sunshine on Leith" didn't do it as much for me, but I still enjoyed the album, particularly "Jean." From then on it all went a bit adrift; I found I didn't relate to their strong, overtly religious stuff, while their strident nationalism --like almost all of its kind-- left me uneasy. Then there was "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)," which, thanks to goddamn Benny & Joon, got stuck in the heads of mononeuronic eedjits everywhere as the beginning and end of all Caledonian lyricism: "Oh, I LOVE Scottish music! I listen to The Proclaimers all the time!! 'I would walk foyve-hundred moyles...' " Now I realise that all of this is my problem, and not that of Messrs Reid & Reid, but it is the monkey that I am bringing with me on my back. But I'm also bringing open ears and an open mind, in the hopes of (once again) being delighted. We shall see.

Dearest Friends, I'll give you a fuller report after the Fest, but in the meantime would you like a smattering of tunes?

The Weakerthans - Tournament of Hearts (buy here)
Los de Abajo - Joder (buy here or e-here)
The Proclaimers - Throw the 'R' Away (buy here)

And as is customary in the run-up to the Festival, please allow me to mock in advance all of the dirty hippies I'll have to endure with their tie-dye, unchecked body hair, sweaty-patchouli stink, and helicopter dancing. They're actually all quite lovely, but I have an image to maintain.

The Dead Milkmen - The Thing That Only Eats Hippies (buy here)

Cheese, Glorious Cheese!

2009-06-16T22:30:00.005-07:00

Dancing across the Stilton wall, Neal's Yard Dairy.
Snapped by semiotheque

Hello Dearest Friends, remember me?? You do??? How good of you!!! Right, it's time to (re)start this party right, it's time to (re)start it cheesy! Yes, Dearest TiM was gracious enough this week to turn this week's Contrast Podcast over to my favourite foodstuff, le fromage. I can't get enough of the shizz- mind you, I'm talking about tha good stuff, not your waxy Kraft slices toilet paper or Velveeta toejam. No, I mean the molten pungency of Stinking Bishop, the essential goatiness of a log of Golden Cross, the creamy prickle of a slab of Cashel Blue, the better-than-sexness of an Epoisses....

Findings songs about cheese seemed to pose a challenge for the CP Nation, but rose to it they did, and there was some excellent lateral thinking, such as Kevin's choice of the well matured Barry Manilow. You can dowload the whole cheeseboard here, or have a peek below at what's what:

(00:00) The Evaporators - (I’ve got a disease) I’m addicted to cheese
FiL from Pogoagogo
(06:20) Dick ‘Two Ton’ Baker - I like stinky cheese
The In Crowd from I’m learning to share!
(09:13) Chenard Walcker - Cream cheese
Eiron from The S+7 Method
(11:51) The Mouldy Peaches - Cheese
Tricia
(13:40) The UMCs - Blue cheese
Greer from A Sweet Unrest
(18:00) Gong - Dynamite / I am your animal
Chris from Phosphorous.net
(23:09) Heartless Bastards - Done got old
Tart from Love Shack, Baby
(27:13) Cheeseburger - Tiger
Andy from How Marvellous
(30:49) Exploding White Mice - Let the kids dance
Dirk from Sexy Loser
(34:40) Monty Python’s Flying Circus - Cheese shop
Tim from The face of today
(39:20) Bear Hunter - My nemesis the cheesegrater
Linda from Speed of Dark
(45:17) Lyle Lovett - Here I am
Jeremy from Fingertips
(50:00) Stark Effect - Bunnyrabbits, satan, cheese and milk
Rhiannah
(53:02) +44 - Make you smile
James from Appetite For Distraction
(57:48) Richard Cheese - Rape me
Stuart from The Accies Blog
(01:00:31) The Photographic - Millie rode to heaven on the back of an orca
John Q.
(01:07:37) Barry Manilow - Can’t smile without you
Kevin

My pick this week was obvious, I must admit; on top of it being about a cheese addiction, it's served up by local garage band Thee Evaporators, which is fronted by Vancouver's very own madcap, musical savant, Nardwuar the Human Serviette. Nardwuar's become something of a fixture in Vancouver, and indeed nationally in Canada, for his goofy guerrilla interviews with musical luminaries. Rather than explain, have a look at his pisstakey chat with Hilary Duff. Yes, I said Hilary Duff.

I wasn't always a cheese addict, you know. Though I was fond of the curd, it wasn't until I moved to London in the mid-1990s that I became exposed to the full panoply of fantastic fromagery. It started with an epiphany: a visit to Neal's Yard Dairy in Covent Garden. I fell in love instantly with the stacks of Stilton truckles against the wall and the deep, rich smell of dozens of fine British cheeses that suffused the tiny shop. Several years later we moved to southwest London, and my local train station happened to be right next to The Teddington Cheese, another tiny Tardis packed with cheeserifficness from across Europe. I lost my virginity to Stinking Bishop in that shop. I fretted that my move to Vancouver would strip me of ready access to decent cheese, but Providence smiled when She gave me a job within walking distance of Les Amis Du Fromage, and then did so again when two brothers named Benton opened up their labour of love within striking distance of home.

But my Dearest Friends, it is rather paradoxical that this podcast has come out during a time when I am off the cheese and will be so for the next few weeks. You see, as I have begun my journey past the big four-oh, I decided the time had come to take matters corporeal in hand and get myself fit. So I started this running lark (about which more soon) and decided to pay closer attention to what and how much I was stuffing in my gob. With Dearest Mentok as my bodhisattva, I embarked on the unthinkable and started a diet, the South Beach one. I tell you, it's working a treat; I feel miles fitter, have dropped a waist size, and shed around 15 lbs so far. Yes, I miss the cheese, but the regime offers enough diversionary food to allow me to power on through. And I know it'll be waiting for me soon...

But back to the music. Had it not been for Nardwuar, I would have had to think laterally. And this is where my mind would have gone:

Fatima Mansions - Blues for Ceausescu (buy here)
Perhaps he would have fancied a nice gorgonzola, or maybe a sharp Picos blue. BTW, I have been known to run around shouting in falsetto: "I am Nicolae Ceausescu and I want my country back!!" Long story.

Jenn Grant - Blue Skies (buy here or e-here)
An antithesis to the previous song, performed by the wonderfully ethereal, PEI-born Jenn Grant. I really took a shine to her when she played last year's Vancouver Folk Music Festival (more about 2009's fest coming up soon). I think she'd like a more subtle Beenleigh blue.

Stereolab - French Disko (buy here)
I like French discotheques, cos they dance around to synthy pop while noshing on fromage. I think I could quite happily bop to this while enjoying a Mimolette Vieux.

Deen - In The Disco (buy here if you are loaded)
Speaking of discos, let's face it: nothing smells more strongly of cheese than this, Bosnia and Herzegovina's dancetastic entry for the 2004 Eurovision Song Contest. Finished in 9th place - they wuz robbed!!

Eat The Rich

2009-05-28T10:45:00.000-07:00

Overheard recently:

"The fundraising drive for the construction of the community centre tennis courts was very successful. There's even $20,000 left over which can be used to resurface them in a few years time."

"Oh, I resurface mine every year."

Motörhead - Eat The Rich (buy here or e-here)

Shragadelic

2009-05-24T00:15:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes, I know it's been ages since we've gotten together. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. Now look, I can fritter my time away explaining how I was held prisoner by Morlocks in the wastelands of Mississauga, then besieged by small people and forced to work in the salt mines, or I can get on with what I came here to do, namely draw your attention to some fine music. The choice is yours.

What's that? You're going for the music?

You sure??

You have chosen wisely...

Dearest Friends, I suppose it was almost three years ago that I came across Shrag's debut single, "Pregnancy Scene," while frolicking through the meadows of the interwebbynet. The dang thing stuck to me like a burr, what with its eerily parping synthline, stalking guitar, and SHOUTY vocals. Rather than pick the thing off my woolly jumper, I left it there, hoping it would grow into more tunes. Alas, though this Brighton-based quintet have released a total of five singles over the past two-plus years, all of them have been on lovely, yet postally inconvenient vinyl. And thus I have had to make do with what I had. So imagine my joy when I discovered the other week (only four months late, I'm sooo cutting edge) that Shrag had finally bundled their singles together, thrown in a couple of extra tracks, and released the whole scrummy, squirming mess on an eponymous album available both as a see-dee AND in newfangled digitalese. Hooray!!

So what will you find when you dig down? Rich, crystalline veins of angular post-punk riffage, dense deposits of bolshy pop attitude, and a mother lode of sardonic savvy. Gems include "Talk To The Left," which sets us all straight on matters of ardour (Did he really say "baby, now I'm heading south"? / Funny, I was almost there / And then he opened his mouth) and "Mark E Smith," which makes a helluva brain-churning racket. But go beyond the upper crust of sarcasm and shoutiness, and you'll find caves full of emotion and feeling as well; "Hopelessly Wasted" is an aching break-up song, while the marvellous "Forty Five 45s" drips with melancholy memories of a relationship entwined with a singles collection. Le sigh.

Then there's their name itself - how deliciously succulent! Go on, say it: "Shrag." Can't you just taste the juiciness? And its very sound brings to mind cheesy 70s carpets, immensely satisfying copulation, shrubbery, goofy sea birds, corrupt elections, and soulful dancing. Oh yes, what a combo! Just forget the prosaic fact that it's actually an acronym for Sussex Heights Roving Artists Group - an in joke, apparently.

In June they'll be playing several UK dates supporting The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, and I'd give vital parts of my anatomy to see one of those shows. But alas, anatomy is no substitute for time and money...

Right, enough verbiage, here's some tuneage:

Shrag - Forty Five 45s (buy here or e-here)

Oh, and while we're at it you might as well also have the ooer, fnarr fnarr video of "Talk To The Left:"

Bad Experience

2009-04-23T20:10:00.008-07:00

Origami cleverness from here

When I first saw it, I didn't believe it. I thought it was a joke, something crafted by a latteklatsch of ultra-cool, web-savvy, hyper-ironic hipsters with designer haircuts.

But it's not.

It's real.

And it made me nauseous.

Step right up folks, you too can have the ultimate Rock & Roll Experience. Yes, for a mere $7,999 you'll get to play in a rock band with "world-famous musicians!" Jam with "iconic rockers!" Attend private workshops with "platinum rock stars!!!" What's more, the price of this 5-day package includes luxury hotel accommodation at the four-star Hotel Renew in Honolulu!!!! You will be "treated like a celebrity and catered to accordingly!!!!!" Confirmed rock gods participating are Glen Matlock (he was always the weediest Pistol anyway), Gerard V. Casale (Devolution, indeed) and Wayne Kramer (say it ain't so!!).

Dearest Friends, this is a travesty. This is not rock 'n' roll. This is balding, fiftysomething, system analysts with their remaining strands of hair scraped behind their heads into dork handles. This is Euro trustafarian brats decked out in Bench and Von Dutch. This is the annoying, botox-injected fucker who cut me off today in his Porsche Boxter. This is whore meets john.

Oh my, I think I need a cocktail of proper music on the rocks to clear the taste of sick from my throat...

Chuck Berry - Johnny B. Goode (buy here or e-here)
Subway Sect - Different Story (buy here or e-here)
Dead Kennedys - Pull My Strings (buy here or e-here)
Sex Pistols - The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle (buy here or e-here)

In The Mood For Ska

2009-04-17T22:45:00.001-07:00

It's been a lovely Friday, what with it being the end of the week and a glorious, late afternoon burst of sunshine apologizing for the rest of the day's rain & gloom. When it's lovely outside, I feel lovely inside - call me shallow, and I will plead guilty. And so it is I find myself in the mood for some old time ska. Come along, Dearest Friends, the rude girls have cranked up the dansette and as the glorious sunset fades into starry evening, it's time to skank the night away.

Lord Tanamo - I'm In The Mood For Ska (buy here )

The Ethiopians - Train To Skaville (buy here or e-here)

Shenley Duffus - Rukumbine (buy here)

Dandy Livingstone - Rudy, A Message To You (buy here)

The Bleechers - Check Him Out (buy here)

Derrick & Patsy - Housewife's Choice (buy here or e-here)

Resolution Revisited

2009-04-15T22:39:00.000-07:00

Dearest Friends, you may recall that back in January I was rash enough to put into cyber-print my resolutions for the year. Ignore for the moment items two through five, which are still in various stages of completion (er, like between 0% and 20%), and let's focus on the first resolution, namely getting in shape for the 2009 Vancouver Sun Run.

Well, roger me sideways with a sweaty ferret, but the run is this coming Sunday and methinks I'm going to be set for it.

Hear that slapping? That's the sound of my gob being smacked.

You see, I've tried many times over the years to get into this running lark, but I've always ended up hating, loathing, DESPISING it. I never understood why; it's something you can do alone or with company, it involves no real prep or planning, and I love walking round in The Great Outdoors (urb or rural). But no, no, no, a thousand times no.

This year I was helped along by the lovely Miss J, a work colleague who kindly offered up her running expertise twice a week to lead a training clinic for the Sun Run, which has become something of an institution in Vancouver. I also had an attack of bloody mindedness; dammit, this is something I CAN and WILL do. Finally, I was heartened by the dashing exploits of JaG, who overcame her own inertia to run like the wind (and will do so again, once she sorts out her iron will)!!

So, some ten weeks ago I strapped on my running shoes and set off on my first training run: three minutes running, two minutes walking. I just about died and dissolved into a heap of cramp, asthmatic croaking, and sweat. Fast forward to today, when I finished my second 10K run in a series of 10 minute intervals separated by one minute of walking. We're not talking Chariots of Fire timing here, folks, but I did it and actually felt (gasp!) rather good at the end. Inbetween then and now it's been a mixed bag of bloody fucking pain and flashes of pride.

Now, please excuse me, but I'm going to break out the can opener and open up a tin of corn. You see, Dearest Friends, I've actually learned a shedload from this whole exercise. I'll spare you most of the zen insights, but allow me to relate two:

First off, the pain is manageable. Almost every outing something went wonky: my hips ached, I got a stitch in my side, my calves cramped up, my right knee got all wobbly. At first I focused on what was going wrong, which was, well, wrong. But over time I developed my own sort of R2-D2 in my brain. You know; R2 would sit in the back of Luke's X-Wing fighter and deal with all the bits falling off ("I'm hit, but not bad. R2, see what you can do with it." "R2, try and increase the power."). Well, my R2 tends to all the shit that goes wrong with me so I can stay focused on the run. If my shins cramp, R2 tells them to relax. If I accelerate up a hill, R2 shortens my stride to maintain my pace. So now the discomfort is secondary. Moral of the story: get yourself your own R2 unit.

Second, I'm my own worst enemy. For years I talked myself out of running coz simply because I believed I couldn't do it. And, since we've already strayed into Star Wars territory, let me quote Yoda: "That, is why you fail." I can't afford to forget this lesson.

So now the Sun Run is but four days away, and I'm confident that I can do it. But y'know, even if I don't, I've already won on this resolution.

Right, you'll be wanting some music after all that. So here you go, a clutch of fine running tunes:

Messiah - Temple of Dreams (buy here )
They weren't the messiah, they were two very naughty techno boys named Ali and Mark.

Tones On Tail - Go! (buy here or get the club mix e-here)
Post & pre-Bauhaus goodness. Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-yaya-ya. You get the picture.

GBH - Race Against Time (buy here )
Kinda hard to run in your 18-hole Doc Martens and levver jacket, but the punks don't care.

The Vivian Girls - Where Do You Run To (buy here or e-here)
Righteous grrl noise straight outta Brooklyn. Eruditely named after a mammoth 15,000-page magnum opus by outsider artist Henry Darger

Markus James & The Wassonrai - Far As I Can Run / Majirica Samba (buy here or e-here)
Think Tom Waits playing those old time blues in Timbuktu. Yes, it's that good. Another one of my favourite discoveries at the 2008 Vancouver Folk Music Festival.

No Star Wars music, you'll be happy to hear, but have a look at this and larf until the banthas come home:

A Walk

2009-04-07T22:24:00.000-07:00

Walking man courtesy of mag3737

Dearest Friends, Saturday afternoon I wasn't so fine in either mind or spirit or body. In fact, I was feeling rather crap. I was still emerging, thanks to some heap powerful antibiotics, from a bacterial infection that for two days had drained me of all energy and replaced it with a foul cocktail of chills, aches, and fevered dreams. That day I had also received some rather nasty e-correspondence from a Usual Suspect; it matters not what the content (which was legitimate), but rather the evenomed barbs in which it was wrapped. And finally, we were all absorbing the Friday news of the apparently random murder in broad daylight of a woman out jogging in the forest but a few blocks from where we live. Dearest Wife was rattled; not only does she often walk/jog past the scene of the crime, most recently earlier that day, but also she was followed down that path a few months back and had been sufficiently concerned to file a report with the local Mounties.

And so I moped. "Why don't you take Little Man for a walk?" suggested Dearest Wife as the clock dragged towards 5:00 PM. And so I did.

I was surprised to see that since my last foray outside early on Friday spring seemed to have definitivey sprung; the sun was out and warm, buds were budding, and the grass needed mowing. We wandered for a few blocks talking nonsense and giggling. Passing a front yard, we met a waggy old black lab named Ruby, whose owner invited a happy Little Man to throw a ball for her. We stopped at the supermarket and bought a plump cantaloupe for dessert, then we picked up a yummy, steaming hot pizza and delivered it home for us all to sup on.

That evening, even though I was still too delicate to go see The Beat as I had been planning for months, I felt a whole lot better.

Go for a walk, Dearest Friends. You'll be surprised what a power of good it can do.

Right, some nice 'n' happy music:

The Lovekevins - Happy Happy (buy some of their stuff here)
Jane - It's A Fine Day (buy here or e-here)
Pizzicato 5 - Happy Sad (buy e-here or here)

And this one is for having missed the show... :(

The Beat - Ranking Full Stop (buy here or e-here)

P.S. More joy - Contrast Podcast is serving up eggs this week!! If you can't wait to scramble on over, go ahead and crack it open here.

Let's Face The Music And Dance

2009-03-27T23:25:00.004-07:00

This is for a Dearest Friend, actually more of a Dearest Brother. The trouble ahead may be trouble now, and there may seem to be no moon. Indeed, there may even be teardrops to shed. But still you must face the music and dance, always dance.

And I'll be pogoing away like mad, right next to you.

Ella Fitzgerald - Let's Face The Music And Dance (buy here)

Τὸ χόβερκράφτ μου εἶναι γεμᾶτο χέλια

2009-03-23T22:46:00.005-07:00

OMD during their rebetiko phase

OK, lemme just say that I don't care what you think, Dearest Friends. Well, actually, let me qualify that: I hope this will give you as much headbanging, horn-throwing, arse-shaking, eighties-worshiping, improbably covertastic pleasure as it gave me when it came, unbidded, on my FiLPod TWICE in two weeks at times just when I needed it most. But if it doesn't, then mock all you want, I don't give a damn. Coz it doesn't get any more ridiculously sublime, any more chalk-n-cheesy delish, than a Greek power metal band doing a motoring version of the fantastic Enola Gay by 80s synth-gods Orchestral Manoevers in the Dark.

Wolfcry - Enola Gay (buy here or e-here)

Reasons to be Cheerful

2009-03-20T22:23:00.000-07:00

Cos nothing says "cheerful" more than an otter...

Dearest Friends, if you're feeling less-than-perky, then listen up: I've got a bagful of goodies guaranteed to lift the most flaccid of spirits. No, it's true, hold your cynicism at bay!!

First up, there's Contrast Podcast! Always a cause for yay!! This week our intrepid guide, Young Tim, takes us on a dizzying alpine trek through songs about mountains. Lofty heights are scaled, thanks to our brave contributors, and I'd urge you to get yourself and your crampons, pitons, and carabiners over here to get some mountainous goodness. If you can't wait, download the podcast directly from here.

Now, as I mentioned a few posts back, I ain't gonna tell you what I submitted, though I will let on that it was both the first and the obvious choice for me. Truth be told, I never really considered any other tunes, though had I been more flexible of brain I might have given you this ditty from Vancouver's own poppily whimsical and melodic Cinderpop:

Cinderpop - Vesuvius (buy e-here)
The album cover has a Victorian octopus on the cover. How ace is that???

The second cause for cheer is my serendipitous discovery of the lovely Hooded Fang. You see, I was noodling about the web trying to find something about Herald Nix and clicked through to his page on the CBC Radio 3 website. So I'm reading the blurb, but the music playing doesn't really sound anything like Herald Nix. That's when I realize the page is streaming a playlist of indie-schmindie stuff and WOW, whatever this non-Nixian track is, it's lovely!!

So, long story short, it turns out that what grabbed me by the ears was none other than Hooded Fang, six boys & girls from Toronto with a fetish for Mordecai Richler's off-kilter children's books, jangly guitars, tinkly xylophones, sweet vocals, and fluffy dollop of twee. A perfectly serendipitous find for springtime, dontcha think??

Hooded Fang - Land Of Giants (buy here or e-here)

And finally, the most important reason to be cheerful: Merz is back. HOORAY!! Those of you who've been around for a while and already know him don't need me to tell you why this is such a joyful event. For those Dearest Friends who've not had the pleasure, Merz runs the excellent blog Mars Needs Guitars, which was one of the first ones that I ran across while taking my first, tentative steps into the interwebbybloggynet. If you're looking for fine music, delivered straight up with lots of honesty and not a trace of bullshit or ironic, hip pretense, then you need to get yourself over there right now. And he is a brave fighter; he's been dealing with some very heavy issues for some time now, issues which led him to take an 18 month hiatus from blogging. But Merz has returned - go show him some love.

Merz would be the first to admit that he has a serious shoegaze fetish, so in honour of his return let's have a bit of that stuff; from the poppier end of that genre, here's Berkshire's finest, Chapterhouse, with a wee gem from 1991:

Chapterhouse - Pearl (buy here or e-here)

And sorry, no Ian Dury this time. Don't want to overdo it now, do we??

FiLPod

2009-03-13T23:01:00.004-07:00

Yes, well, it's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry, dog ate my homework. Leaves on the tracks. I couldn't on account of my asthma. I didn't have the exact change. I thought it was every third Friday. All circuits were busy.

Er, whatever.

So let's get this party (re)started, right? No heavy-heavy the first night back. Keep it light and airy. And I have just the thing.

The other week I finally broke down and got myself an iPod Nano. My old empeefree playah, a 512K Samsung mini-Mars bar YP-MT6, had been giving me grief ("Oh no, I'm not playing that song again! No siree, I'm just going to keep resetting my wee self.") and I actually became rather infatuated with the Nano after fondling a co-worker's. So thin! Yet so vast!! Hook. Line. Sinker. Done.

I've wrangled iTunes onto my PC, populated it with my muzak (do I really have over 28 days of the stuff??), and have started constructing playlists. Now, one of the first lists I composed was a part-tay one, to reside on the FiLPod just in case. In case what? Well, in case I find myself asked to DJ a wedding at a moment's notice. Or perhaps at a a morning-after-a-white-night breakfast in Sweden (happened once). Or maybe in the Fish Bar in the wee hours. Who knows, you need to be prepared.

Anyway, the list is full of random stuff, though there seems to be an overrepresentation of eighties cheese. Ah, well. But it does work! Driving to & from work today I had a party in my car! Just me and FiLPod!! We danced!! And here's some of what made us boogie:

Intaferon - Get Out Of London (buy here)
For a while in the early 1980s I was infatuated with this, one of the three electro-clattery singles released by flash-in-the-pansters Intaferon. Oh, the lyrics! "My mother was the queen of tarts my baby was a sex slave / Pa's selling weapons to the Red Army Faction / I burn myself in public just to get a reaction." What does it mean?? I still don't know!! But does it matter??

Shinehead - Chain Gang Rap (buy here)
A bit of "gee willikers" reggae here that manages to make me feel nostalgic about riding the NYC subway. And that, Dearest Friends, is pretty hard to do.

Jim Carroll - People Who Died (buy here)
A deathlist you can dance to, all rollicking punky-punk and anthemic and poignant and celebratory and hilaarious at the same time.

Quando Quango - Love Tempo (buy here or e-here)
Um, some of that 80s cheese wot I told you about. But it'll get you a-boogie, or my name isn't "Body Motion."

Brilliant Corners - Meet Me On Tuesdays (buy here if you're loaded) OMG! Bags and bags of lovely HORNS!! And angsty lyrics!! Le C86 swoooon! It's become particularly poignant of late for reasons I cannae go into.

Time is Out Of Joint

2009-02-17T23:42:00.011-08:00

Non-linear

Sod it, the time has come. Blow off the cobwebs, crank up the loudspeaker, cos an announcement is in order here at pogo a go-go:

FiL is hereby abandoning linear time.

What? You thought I was packing it in? Not a chance, Dearest Friend. Yes, yes, I know postings have been rather thin around here as of late, but it's a trickle, not a drought.

I still have stories to tell, it's just that I can't get them out in a timely manner. So if time is the problem, then time must be removed. Abolished. Spurned. So the stories will come when they come, in the order they choose.

There, I feel better.

Speaking of time, this week's Contrast Podcast urges us to go back to when we were 21 and share what music we hear back then (See? I'm messing with the tenses. Woot! Fuck you, time!!). The theme was actually suggested by my Dearest Friend Brad, who was one of my roommates at college. I'm actually going back to Washington, DC for a long weekend of catching up with him and other close friends. Ostensibly it's a late 40th birthday celebration. Well, I'm happy for that to be the excuse; it's been waaaay too long since I spent proper time with Brad et al, and I am looking forward to it something fierce. I just hope I'll be able to remember it all after all the alcohol...

Drop by here to download the CP Nation's collective reminiscence, and stop here to leave your comments.

As I mentioned in my intro, the song I chose (not gonna tell you what it is - new policy chez FiL: go have a look/listen on the CP website) nailed a particular transition point as I navigated into my 22nd year. During those 12 months I finished up my undergraduate studies, spent a couple of months backpacking around Europe, then started graduate studies in England, where I didn't quite reckon I'd spend the next 15 years. But there were a lot of musical currents swirling around, and so my choice could just have well been one of these:

The Pixies - Wave Of Mutilation (buy here)
I lived & breathed this album...

De La Soul - Jenifa Taught Me (buy here)
Awww, bay-beh!!

Mudhoney - This Gift (buy here)
They dumped me headlong into grunge. Been there, done that, still got the flannel shirt...

Pop Will Eat Itself - Wise Up! Sucker (buy here)
I forget too often how good the PWEI's brand of screeching pop fusion often was.

The Soup Dragons - I'm Free (buy here)
There's always been a baggy dance element to FiL..

Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine - Sheriff Fatman (buy here)
Jimbob & Fruitbat - what a duo! A cleverly anthemic, socially scathing piece of pop goodness, this is. And did you know that CP compere Tim once boasted a stringy, Jimbob rattail hairdo? It's true!

Ned's Atomic Dustbin - Kill Your Television (buy here)
Noisy boys with a thing for multiple t-shirts and loose shorts. I've had tinnitus in my left ear ever since going to a 1992 Ned's gig. Fact!

Lush - Sweetness & Light (buy here or e-here)
I've been gazing rapturously at my shoes for hours. Can't stop.

So I'm off to DC tomorrow evening for the weekend, then I jet to Toronto for a couple days of work. No idea when I'll be back around here, but, well, it'll be sometime. Until then, Dearest Friends, stay excellent.

Indigestion

2009-02-05T00:07:00.001-08:00

I ate for them...

So last week I found myself of an evening in a Vancouver hotel ballroom breaking bread amongst a swarm of financial types. The occasion was an annual dinner put on by an august association that bestows a TLA on those hopeful youngsters who've crunched numbers, sweated blood, and scribbled under time pressure to the requisite standard. I am not among the blessed ones, but I was invited to attend anyway. Not sure why, but there you go.

Now apparently every year over dessert and coffee a panel of financial experts what knows about how this money thang all works gives its predictions for the year ahead. But before that, last year's predictions are reviewed. The whole production is supposed to be wrapped in humour, presumably to demonstrate that, hey, bean counters can be wacky, off-kilter types. This year the humour was distinctly of the gallows variety. Hoots of laughter applauded the TLA in the audience who won a chunk of lucite for "Best Stock Pick:" XYZ Industries, down 43 percent year-on-year. Yes, I said down. Hoots of laughter.

Yet something sat not quite right about all of this. It was probably around coffee that it struck me; despite the frightful whipsawing of the markets, the credit crunch, and bleeding investment portfolios, all of us folks in that ballroom had jobs and were relatively alright, Jack, if a tad nervous. We dined on seared tuna (a bit peppery that crust, but still nice) and steak (obviously nuked prior to a finishing grill, but quite a tasty bit of flesh), quaffed red, red wine (only one glass for me as I'm driving, but the fellow over there seems to have passed out in his chair), and laughed at it all rather than shed crocodile tears. Elsewhere, a record 4.78 million Americans are receiving unemployment benefits, and are struggling to make ends meet. Some are sinking deep into despair, and taking their loved ones with them. Home foreclosures are gutting communities. Canada, largely spared to date, is starting to feel the hot breeze of the firestorm to the south. People will be hurt here as well.

And that's what it's all about: real, live people. Not numbers, not graphs, but people.

As I left, I felt angry. And part of that anger was directed at myself; I ate at that table, I'm alright, Jack. So I asked myself: whatcha gonna do about it?

Well FiL? I'm waiting...

The Neurotics - This Fragile Life (buy here or e-here)
Public Image Limited - This Is Not A Love Song (buy here)
Wild Billy Childish and the Musicians of the British Empire - Thatcher's Children (buy here or e-here)

Kicking It around

2009-01-27T21:45:00.004-08:00

It's the fourth down on the ten-yard line...Rick flicks it to John Q, who heads it to Steve...oh, and the Vinyl Villain dribbles it down the left and passes it to Tricia...who throws it to Tim...Tim lines up on the goal...he shoots...the goalie dives the wrong way AND ITS A GOOOOOOOAAAALLL FOR TEAM CONTRAST PODCAST!!!

Yes, this week it's a mix of pigskin and pitch as the CP nation explores football in all its musical permutations. Come listen to the match over here. The team roster:

(00:00) The Rosebuds - Push it
Rick from Are you embarrassed easily

(05:03) The Hitchers - Strachan
John Q.

(11:00) Colourbox - The official colourbox world cup theme
Steve from Domino Rally

(16:32) Fountains of Wayne - All kinds of time
Thomas from Better in the Dark

(22:00) ¡All-Time Quarterback! - Cleveland
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(25:02) Cock SParrer - Trouble on the Terraces
FiL from Pogoagogo

(31:48) Outkast - Morris Brown
James from Appetite For Distraction

(36:36) Billy Bragg - The boy done good
Charles from Heartache with Hard Work

(40:28) The 1982 Scottish World Cup Team with B.A. Robertson and John Gordon Sinclair - We have a dream
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(46:20) Shawn Lee - The big game
Eiron from The S+7 Method

(52:37) Chixdiggit - I should have played football in highschool
Chris from Culture Bully

(55:24) The Housemartins - We’re not deep
Tricia

(58:41) Jiskefet - Mijn club
Rhiannah

(01:05:25) Mel and Tim - Backfield in motion
Adam from Pretending life is like a song

(01:08:21) The Meat Puppets - Touchdown king
Natalie from Mini-Obs

(01:13:37) Ballboy - Sunday league (acoustic)
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(01:16:59) Alex Constantino, Danny Baker and Danny Kelly - Bohemian Rhapsody
Stuart from The Accies Blog

Now I must admit that I am not a fan of any of the various species of football. Indeed, I'm not much of spectator sports aficionado at all. Growing up in the US, I had plenty of opportunity to watch the American variety, but it just bored, bored, BORED me to tears, especially when the final five minutes of a game would telescope into an hour, what with all the time-outs and ad breaks.

Despite my looong stint in the UK, I am similarly lukewarm towards The Beautiful Game. In the office I was regularly teased for not having a team, so much so that I finally told my colleagues that they could pick a team for me to follow if it would make them happy. Alas (thankfully?), they could not decide who I should support; I think it had come down to Charlton Athletic, QPR, and Liverpool (the last because I am rather fond of the late John Peel, who was a keen Liverpool supporter), but the lengthy debates never reached resolution.

I suppose what really turns me off team spectator sports is the tribalism; the "us-versus-them" mentality, the trash-talking, the jeering. Yes, yes, I know it's usually all in the good, healthy spirit of friendly competition, but even then I just can't see the point of investing emotional capital in it. And then you have the occasions when the tribalism gets ugly. It would be facile of me to tar all sports with the brush of hooliganism, but that distasteful element does rear its head far too often for my liking.

Perhaps what cemented my dislike of football (soccer) in particular was my Leeds experience. In the late nineties Dearest Wife was living and working in Leeds while I did likewise in London. Every Friday I'd endure the Great North Eastern Railway service from Kings Cross to Leeds, and every Sunday afternoon I'd endure it again in reverse. However, the journey back was most often rendered much more of an ordeal by the drunken football fans returning home to their ratholes after the fixture of the day. The puke, the chants, the verbal - it was awful. It got so bad that eventually I started taking the Monday dawn train back to London instead. It meant getting up at around 4:30 AM, but at least I could sleep for a couple of hours (sometimes more, if there were leaves on the tracks) without being bothered by bovver boys...

Despite all my kvetching, I must admit to going to the odd Canadian football game as of late. Why? Well, the Canuck version of the American game is faster paced, as it isn't quite so commercialized and it boasts one fewer down. The fans are better behaved in general , although I have seen police intervene in the stands on occasion. But the real reason I go? My Fantastic Father-in-Law quite likes the game, and I quite like spending time with him.

What's that? Oh yes, the music. Here are the two other tracks that I almost submitted:

Tribe Called Quest - Can I Kick It? (buy here)
Football? Kick? Geddit??

The Adicts - You'll Never Walk Alone (buy here or e-here)
Everybody's favourite clockwork punks do their version of Liverpool FC's anthem.

Next week, it's all about Sizes. Pop over here to find out how to contribute.

They Say The Tardy Fruit's A Fuller Wine

2009-01-24T17:03:00.008-08:00

Abigail Washburn with Bela Fleck
Vancouver Folk Music Festival, July 2008

Dearest Friends, we are experiencing a rare moment of calm and downtime round Chateau FiL. Darling Daughter is somewhere up the Sunshine Coast enjoying (we hope) her weekend at Girl Guides District Camp. Dearest Wife is upstairs preparing her lectures on Celtic gods & goddesses for the upcoming week. Ginadawg is curled up in front of the fire. And Little Man & I are ensconced on the sofa watching The Wizard of Oz. There's no place like home... there's no place like home... there's no place like home...

Things have been a bit quiet round pogo a go-go way of late. You know, the whole offline life thing. But I won't whinge about it, cos it's just how it is that's not what you've dropped by for. Here, why don't you join us on the sofa for a mug of hot milk & honey and a bit of a catch-up??

I've been meaning to tell you for some time now about Abigail Washburn. How long is "some time?" Well, um, since this past summer, actually. I know, pretty crap of me, but better now than never, because she sounds as wonderful today as she did six months ago when I saw her play the Vancouver Folk Music Festival with The Sparrow Quartet. While I was perusing the Fest's programme she caught my eye for three reasons. First, she plays the banjo. Ever since I saw Old Man Luedecke play the thing at the previous year's Festival I've been a fan, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Played well, it can be by turns marvellously evocative and pogoliciously rambunctious. Oh, and she plays the clawhammer banjo; dunno exactly what species that is, but it sounds hardcore. Second, Abigail narrowly escaped being a lawyer. She was on the verge of treading down the path of international corporate law when a fortuitous encounter with an agent at a bluegrass convention resulted in a demo and ultimately a decision to follow the music rather than Mammon. Third, she fuses her love of old-time pluckin' with her love of China. Yes, you heard right. While a student, she developed a deep respect and passion for Chinese culture during a trip to that country, and went so far as to learn Mandarin. She now composes and sings in both idioms.

If the programme whetted my appetite, seeing her left me hungry for more. I was spellbound, and the shivers danced up and down my spine, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. Dearest Friends, whenever that happens I KNOW what I'm hearing is magnificent. I was watching her and the Quartet with Dearest Father-in-Law, who commented that her banjo-playing, while good, wasn't particularly complex. Maybe that was true, particularly when compared to quartetite Bela Fleck, who is widely regarded as the finest banjo meister alive. But there was something so pure and clear and gorgeous and evocative about her plucking and singing that relative technical prowess seemed irrelevant. She flitted from old skool Appalachian tunes to Chinese folk songs with wondrous ease, her seamless weaving supported magnificently by fiddle and cello, as well as Bela's second banjo. On top of all this she is lovely, both on stage and off. I chatted briefly with her on the second day of the Festival and she was most gracious. Afterwards I thought that maybe I had been bewitched by the setting; in the past certain artists who I enjoyed at the Festival seemed slightly less fabulous upon subsequent listenings. Not so Abigal; I saw her and the Sparrow Quartet perform brilliantly a few months later at the more intimate Rogue Folk Club and I realized that I had been bewitched, not by the Festival, but by Abigail and her music (but you should have guessed that, since I only tell you about those artists who truly ARE fabulous). As she sang and picked, the shivers returned; they were particularly electrifying on this sublime song:

Abigail Washburn & the Sparrow Quartet - A Fuller Wine (buy this splendid album here or e-here)

Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet are currently on the tail-end of a long spate of touring that has taken them all over the US, Europe, and China (see Abigail's Myspace page for a brilliant set of thoughtful, erudite, and eloquent blogposts about that visit). If you're in Kentucky, Colorado, Washington DC, or New York, do go prepared to be spellbound:

4 Feb: The Oriental Theater, Denver, CO
5 Feb: Colorado College, Clorado Springs, CO
6 Feb: Fox Theater, Boulder, CO
7 Feb: Wheeler Opera House, Aspen, CO
10 Feb: National Geographic, Washington DC
11 Feb: Joe's Pub, New York, NY (N.B. two shows on one night)
15 Feb: Comstock Hall (University of Louisville), Louisville KY

It was lovely chatting with you, Dearest Friends. Stop by again for a hot mug of something.

Gitarre Verboten

2009-01-23T13:16:00.000-08:00

No guitars, no dogs. I don't want to go here, but Jan did.

By order of The Vinyl Villain, Dearest Tim has banned all guitars from this week's Contrast Podcast. Other than banishment from the episode, I'm not sure what the penalty would have been for not respecting the Guitar-Free Zone. But I wasn't going to find out. Download the 'cast here to find out how good music can be without axes of any sort.

Guitarless goodness:

(00:00) Neil Young - Like a hurricane (unplugged)
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(07:35) Mark Kozelek - Around and around
Linda from Speed of Dark

(09:49) Geoff Berner - Drunk all day
Ross from Hummin’ Cummins

(12:35) Hermine - Blue angel
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(15:43) Ella Fitzgerald - Sunshine of your love
Chris from Phosphorous.net

(19:33) Rory Mcleod - Love is like a rock (in a stormy sea)
Adam from Pretending life is like a song

(23:43) Cat Power - Wild is the wind
Natalie from Mini-Obs

(28:03) Tobacco - Gross Magik
Diana from Lipsynchsuck

(32:33) Deretraum - Zikabender
Eiron from The S+7 Method

(34:50) Jamie Lidell - Multiply (Gonzales remix)
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(38:50) Laura Barrett - Robot ponies
Jim from Quick Before it Melts

(43:30) Ben Folds - One down (live)
James from Appetite For Distraction

(48:04) Regina Spektor - Samson
Agnes from It all started with carbon monoxide

(52:50) Mr Hopkinson’s Computer - Fake plastic trees
John Q.

(57:43) Tiger Lillies - Banging in the nails
FiL from Pogoagogo

(01:02:38) Markéta Irglová - The hill
Rhiannah

(01:07:40) Laurie Anderson - From the air
Tricia

(01:12:53) Dead man’s bones - In the room where you sleep
Chris from Culture Bully

(01:17:46) Interbellum - 6EQUJ5
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(01:23:15) The Roy Hargrove Quintet - Strasbourg / St Denis
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

I decided fairly swiftly that I wanted to submit a Tiger Lillies track, primarily because they are ace and secondly because they operate off of accordion, upright bass, and drums. I then reckoned that in order to get the full effect across, I needed to offer up one of their more shocking songs. You see, seamy, sordid, saucy, and sacrilegious is what these Brechtian cabareters do best. Finally, I wanted to go for something punchy and punky, despite the guitar prohibition. So you got what's probably their most outrageous number, but I also considered this one:

Tiger Lillies - Hell (buy here or e-here)

Now I did briefly consider going with a spot of electronica, so you might have gotten this dose of 80s minimalist Eurokitsch, only I was afraid you'd all hunt me down after it had been stuck in your head for a month after the podcast:

TRIO - Da Da Da (buy here)

And had I not been in such a rammy mood, you might have been treated to this lovely piece, which always fills me with an odd sense of yearning...

Orbital - Belfast/Wasted (this version is from the excellent third edition of Volume magazine, which I think is now best found on eBay)

Next week, the CP celebrates Football. Pick your side, pick a song, then learn how to submit it here.

Feet First

2009-01-15T23:04:00.007-08:00

Ask Nick where he gets his shoes

Right, this week Dearest Tim's really put his feet in it. Well, his feet and those of others. And the "it" he's put them in is this week's Contrast Podcast. Yes, Dearest Friends, the current episode is given over entirely to matters podiatric: tootsies, boots, shoes, walking, and the like. So move your feet over here to download it, and don't forget to comment here.

What's afoot:

(00:00) Mud - Tiger feet
Tim from The face of today

(04:32) Kirsty MacColl - In these shoes?
Natalie from Mini-Obs

(09:29) Starlet - When the sun falls on my feet
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(14:10) Hello Saferide - Get sick soon
Agnes from It all started with carbon monoxide

(17:32) Cinerama - Heels
John Q.

(21:29) Bernard Bresslaw - You need feet
The In Crowd from I’m Learning to Share!

(24:58) Moonbabies - Walking on my feet
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(29:51) Quincy Jones & Bill Cosby - Toe jam
Chris from Culture Bully

(34:52) Patrick Macnee & Honor Blackman - Kinky boots
FiL from Pogoagogo

(39:33) Jean-Paul Sartre Experience - Own two feet
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(44:05) Nobody & Mystic Chords of Memory - Feet upon the sand
Rachel from Untitled Records

(49:07) Bleep - Dipping toes
Eiron from The S+7 Method

(54:50) Good shoes - Small town girl
Adam from Pretending life is like a song

(59:44) Clinic - Second foot stomp
Jim from Quick Before it Melts

(01:03:07) Catch-22 - As the footsteps die out forever
James from Appetite For Distraction

(01:07:33) Oh Susanna - Forever at your feet
Rhiannah

(01:11:38) Billy Connolly - If it was’nae for your wellies
Tricia

This particular body part seems to provoke a strong reaction; folks seem either to really, really like them or to find them utterly revolting. So where do I stand? Somewhere in the middle, I suppose. I find a well groomed, well proportioned female foot can be most aesthetically pleasing. Conversely, when the weather warms up I'm always amazed at how many folks insouciantly bare their yellow-nailed, dragon-skinned, taloned paws. And why is it that whenever one talks about feet in a non-clinical/medical manner it seems rather pervy??

As an aside, methinks Dearest Wife isn't too fond of my tootsies; for Christmas I got a gift certificate for a pedicure. Actually, I'm rather looking forward to the experience. D'oh! Here comes that pervy feeling again. Quick, onto the other songs I very nearly submitted:

Adam Ant - Goody Two Shoes (buy here)
Nowt to do with feet, really, but a bloody good slab of 80s pop. Fill yer boots, as they say here in Canada...

Helen Love - Put Your Foot On The Fuzzbox (buy here or e-here)
More to do with the fuzzbox than the foot. Fast, loud, and mad!!

Clifton Chenier - Long Toes (buy here or e-here)
You can't beat a good dose of Zydeco. No way, no how.

And then there was "Footloose." No, not the Kenny Loggins film ditty, but this tight bit of hip hop from Toronto's own Wio-K. It's dope, da shizz, & all that. It may well have made it, but for timing. You see, I caught the tail end of it on the telly late on Monday, by which time my choice & intro had already been put to bed. But I was snaffled by That Bassline and that sharp ragga hook by Tasha Rozez, Mizz GunznRozez. Omigod. So I offer it up to you here, Dearest Friends. But before I do, I want to dedicate it to Greer. You see, on last week's CP she told us about her late brother, his love of hip hop, and her consequent appreciation of the genre. And it really touched me. Folks, it's what music and people's love of it is all about.

So here you go, Dearest Greer. This one is for you and your bro.

Wio-K feat. Tasha Rozez - Footloose (buy on iTunes or Napster)

And that video...

Stories

2009-01-11T08:17:00.001-08:00

gordonr

I omitted a very important resplution from my list below:

Tell more stories...

Little Man and I have just seen my Mother off at the airport. We exchange hugs and promises of next visits while around us others spin out their own tales of departure and separation with tears and smiles and laughter. I tell her I was glad she had come; she replies with a smile and thanks, followed by a sudden, sharp mugging with the memory of a perceived slight. We then stand and wave our last goodbyes as she slips through the opaque sliding doors that separate the secure from the unsecure. My mind stings like a slapped cheek. Why does each chapter always have to end this way?

I turn away, planning to head for the car and home to our own home story. In front of us a jade canoe heaves into view, frozen in bronze yet seeming to glide forward, towards the unknown. The Spirit of Haida Gwaii is one of my favourite sculptures. I ask Little Man if we should go have a look, and with an impish grin he speeds off towards the massive craft, crowded with a fantastic, mythical crew. I catch up with him and he begins asking questions. Who's that? Is that an eagle? What are they doing? Where are they going? I reply that the sculpture tells a story, and ask if he would like to help me tell it.

I take him to a plaque off to the side and begin to read to him about the Spirit of Haida Gwaii. As I describe the craft and its crew, he races off eagerly to find each creature. Sitting in the bow is Bear, staring resolutely backwards at a past he refuses to abandon. Next to him is his human wife, Bear Mother, who clutches her cubs while looking for the future. Trusty Beaver paddles steadily ahead, as does the Reluctant Conscript, the everyman who is both taken for granted and the reason for it all. Then there is the alluring Dogfish Woman, who exudes a mystical desire as deep and dark as the ocean, despite her hooked nose, gill slits and wild piercings. The sharp-featured Mouse Woman huddles in the stern, hiding under Raven's tail; she is the guide between worlds. Wolf digs his claws into Beaver's back, while chewing on Eagle's wing. In turn, the noble Eagle's pride compells him to bite Bear's paw. Frog sits partly in the boat, bridging the land and sea. The cunning, charming Raven sits in the stern, steering the canoe wherever his trickster fancy takes him. Finally we come to the Shaman, who sits stoically in the middle of this tumultuous vessel, clutching the intricately carved staff that represents the world view of the Haida. A story within a story.

Having met all the creatures, Little Man's attention turns towards a promised hot chocolate. We sit in comfy chairs as travellers pass by, sipping our drinks. I tell Little Man that stories are important, so very important. They help us understand ourselves and others. They record what must be remembered. And they help us make sense of what we don't understand.

He looks at me for a moment, then busies himself with exctracting the dregs of chocolate foam. My mind stings a little less.

Pothole Skinny - Stories Locked In Time (buy here or e-here)

The Clock Work Army - Read Me A Story (buy here or e-here)

Resolved

2008-12-31T17:17:00.006-08:00

KayVee.INC

Alright, time to dig out. Chrimbo has come & gone, and I'm trying to figure out why I had such the allergic reaction to it this year. There must be something to learn from it. In good time...

So, it's New Year's Eve. There must be something in the air --odd vapours, peculiar plasms-- because I'm feeling the inclination to make resolutions.

Seriously.

You see, ordinarily I don't hold with That Type Of Thing; you know, gin-fuelled, ill-considered attachment to unreasonable goals, followed by disappointment and self-criticism when they're not met. But of late I've been bouncing a few ideas off of mental walls. Weighing them up. Poking them. Prodding them. Nothing life-transforming, you understand, but I suppose this is as good a time as any to stop molesting them and adopt them. So, without any further ado, I resolve to:

Get in shape for the 2009 Vancouver Sun Run
Start taking gee-tarr lessons
Listen to more music
Volunteer, cos talking about change isn't enough
Sort out that thing that I should have sorted out ages ago

I would be grateful if you could see your way to helping me stick to them... A very happy, compassionate, and rockin' 2009 to you all, Dearest Friends!

Camera Obscura - Happy New Year (buy here or e-here)
The Bodines - Decide (only available on the original 1989 12-inch, methinks. Try here.)
Asobi Seksu - New Years (buy here or e-here)

Piss Off

2008-12-26T18:47:00.006-08:00

It's over, so just go away. That's right, push off, and take your commercialism and unrealistic expectations and forced bonhomie with you. Oh, and don't forget all that bloody snow - you can stick it in your sleigh as well. I'm sick of shoveling it.

Jack White - Christmas Time is Nearly Over (buy here)
The Stuck-Ups - Piss Off (buy here or e-here)
Blackavar - Heart of Winter (buy here)

Christmas Conspiracy

2008-12-24T22:25:00.005-08:00

Well, according to NORAD, Father Christmas is currently over Brian Head, Utah and is heading north. You see, I finally figured it out: Old St Nick is in cahoots with the military-industrial complex and is using alien spacecraft technology adapted by the US Air Force to travel the globe at high hypersonic speeds (see the photo above for PROOF!), distributing gifts in support of the reification of Christmas and general commodity fetishism, which in turn compels people to spend spend SPEND, thereby propping up the Capitalist system.

Shockingly fiendish, isn't it?? But now you know the truth.

Anyway, here are a final few seasonal tunes without which for me Chrimbo would be zilcho. Happy hols, Dearest Friends.

The Kinks - Father Christmas (buy here)
The Waitresses - Christmas Wrapping (buy here)
Holly Golightly - Christmas Tree on Fire (buy here)
Shonen Knife - Space Christmas (buy here)
St Etienne - I Was Born On Christmas Day (buy here)
Jacob Miller - All I Want for Ismas (buy e-here)
Bullette - Blue Christmas (buy her stuff here)

Silent Night, My Arse!

2008-12-21T20:30:00.009-08:00

Dearest Friends, I find the holiday season is SO much more enjoyable when it's noizeee in a punk rock stylee. Don't you agree?

Easy Roy & The Flux Capacitors - Little Drummer Boy (I know nothing about the band or this song!)
The Vandals - Oi To The World (buy here or e-here)
New Bomb Turks - Christmas [Baby, Please Come Home] (buy here or e-here)
Celibate Rifles - Merry Xmas Blues (buy here or e-here)
Crucial Youth - X-Mas For The Skins (buy here or e-here)
Didjits - Under The Christmas Fish (buy here or e-here)
Exhumed - No Presents For Christmas (buy here or e-here)
S Punk 7 - White Trash Christmas (buy here or download more e-here)
Mistreaters - Santa Stole My Baby (buy the Flying Bomb Surprise Package here)
Devil Dogs - I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day (buy here or e-here)

Last Christmas

2008-12-18T23:57:00.005-08:00

Dearest Friends, you may recall that last Christmas Santa FiL got a bit too full of seasonal spirit(s) and utterly disgraced the red suit. It's true. However, I'm relieved to say that this year he's stayed off the egg nog. Well, not entirely, but he hasn't dissolved his brain in it. That said, there's still Christmas itself to get through, and a bottle of medicinal vodka in the freezer. Just in case...

Peter & The Test Tube Babies - I'm Getting Pissed For Christmas (buy here or e-here)
Dwarves - Drinking Up Christmas (buy e-here)
Lord Beginner - Christmas Morning The Rum Had Me Yawning (buy here)

Speaking of last Christmas (WARNING: FACILE SEGUE ALERT), what about that damn song?? Truth be told, with a skinful in me I can just about appreciate the campy cheesiness of the original by Messrs Ridgeley & Michael. But hearing its insipidness while sober and in a retail establishment in December makes me want to do unspeakably harsh things to shop mannequins. What surprises me, however, is the sheer number of cover versions there are out there of this tat. And while some of them are as bad (if not worse) than the original, I've actually come across a few that, erm, are quite good, actually...

Gordon Campbell - Last Christmas (buy here or e-here)
No, not the Premier of BC (at least I think so), but a devotee of the pan pipes. God, how I hate pan pipes. I'm convinced that there's only one Peruvian pan-pipe band in the whole world, but it follows me around everywhere I go, tormenting me on random street corners. But I digress - and I listen with prejudice. OK, this is the only truly awful version here, promise...

Le Sport, Montt Mardié, & Mr Suitcase - Last Christmas (no idea where to find this)
If you're off to Ibiza for a bit of a Chrimbo boogie, you might very hear this one. Loungey & housey all at once. Methinks the vocalist must have very tight underpants. Actually, all three of them are Swedes.

Animal - Last Kristmess* You Burst All My Warts (download it and others here)
Oboy, this is reeeealy something special. All skippy and trippy and jagged and ragged. Truly glorious in its abomination.

The Revolvers - Last Christmas (buy here)
These German punx rock! Dearest Marcy put it up already last week, but I love it soooo much you're going to get it again!! In fact, she's got a few other Last Christmases up, including a very good one by Jimmy Eat World. Please drop by!

Punk People - Last Christmas (buy e-here)
Mysterious cover artistes. Chugs along rather nicely (if predictably) & does exactly what it says on the tin - wuntoofreefwarrr!!

And if you want more covers, pop on over here.

A Filthy Little Christmas

2008-12-16T01:38:00.005-08:00

I made this...

So Dearest Wife whips up a batch of lovely gingerbread homunculi, which she and the Delightful Children decorate in a manner appropriate to the season. At my request, they leave me a couple to embellish. After all, it's the family togetherness wot makes this time of the year special, right??

My first attempt results in a rather unconvincing zombie; it was hard to get the exposed brain just right. But my second baked golem turns out rather better; Dearest Friends, I give you the anatomically (more-or-less) correct Ginger Bready, the most sensuous erotic artiste ever to be formed out of pastry. OK, the kids think she's wearing a bikini and holding a cellphone, but y'all know it's really boobs 'n' pubes 'n' lube...

Actually, I blame all this filth on Dearest Tart. Yes, I was lured into the sultry world of Chrimbo smut by her provocative posts here and here. There oughta be a law against this sort of thing, but I'm glad there isn't, because I'm about to drip some seasonally saucy sounds all over you...

The Bellrays - All I Want To Do Is Shag For Christmas (buy e-here)
Dear Santa, for Christmas please can you bring me Dearest Wife with a ribbon (and nowt else) round her waist? Just mind where you put her, the tree can get a bit prickly. I've been too good all year. Love, FiL.

Ms Jody - Humping Santa (buy here or e-here)
Well, I think the bluesy Ms Jody got EXACTLY what she wanted from the man in red.

The Soul Sisters - Wreck A Buddy (buy here)
OK, strictly speaking this isn't a Chrimbo tune, but these Jamaican lasses do get all rude to the tune of Little Drummer Boy. So it counts.

Broken Social Scene - Handjobs For The Holidays (buy here or e-here)
A specialty item - you don't see these advertised at Wal-Mart...

And What Will Be Left Of Them? - Have Yourself A Filthy Little Christmas (from the 2006 Filthy Little Angels Xmas album - go download the magnificent 08 edition here)
Not the smuttiest song under the tree, but a rollicking tune with the best title! And I hope you do, Dearest Friends, I really hope you do!!

Can't Stop the Revelry

2008-12-09T00:03:00.004-08:00

Until now I have been able to avoid it. I looked the other way when Dearest Tart started in on it obscenely early. And I plugged my ears when Dearest Ed started spinning his seasonal discs back at the arse-end of November. But December has ushered in the relentless tyranny of green and red and bells and fa-la-la-la-fucking-la. I cannot escape it and so I grudgingly accept an egg nog latte made with two parts schmaltz, two parts tension, and a diluted shot of cheer.

Christmas is coming.

Let's get one thing straight: I'm no Scrooge. I want it to be all about generosity and kindness and compassion. And I try very hard to make it so. Always have, always will, this year no exceptioin. But what Chrimbo inevitably turns out to be is stress and conflicting expectations and strained diplomacy and arguments and obligatory, joyless socializing and mutually unsatisfying compromise and orgiastic consumerism. Oh yes, the screams to buy buy BUY that are louder than ever this year as the keepers of the capitalist beast shame and guilt and exhort the financially stressed to spend so as to feed their starving pet.

But there is the music. Yes, there's quite a lot of good Christmas music about, in amongst the shite and tripe. Let's have us a bit of music, shall we? Accentuate the positive, and all that.

Maybe this year will be different...

Oscar the Grouch - I Hate Christmas (buy here)
I grew up hanging out with Oscar in his trashcan. Do you think he's the same species as Yoda??

Shrag - Stop the Revelry (I downloaded it here a couple of years ago)
A magnificently bittersour tune from these mighty Brighton artrockers. With parping Chrimbo keyboards to boot!!

The Sonics - Don't Believe in Christmas (buy here)
Vintage Seattle garage rawkers calling it as they feel it.

Jet Boys - Merry Christmas, Fuck You (buy here or e-here)
A younger vintage of Japanese garage rawkers calling it as they feel it.

Velodrome 2000 - Christmas Sucks (buy here)
Defunct Sheffield indiepop outfit flies the anti-hols flag high...

Wild Billy Childish & The Musicians of the British Empire - A Poundland Christmas (buy here or e-here)
Back to the garage with the legendary Wild Billy Childish, with an all-too-relevant tune for this year. But maybe that's just what we need: spend less, give more.

P.S. Now that I've started, I'm sure there'll be more Yuletide music to come...

Bangers & Mash

2008-12-04T00:09:00.005-08:00

Oh, good Lord, it's been a bloody age, hasn't it? Look, I promise to tell you all about The Trip, but right now my time is all mashed up with work, kids, and that bloody pain in the arse known as Christmas. So please let me be glib and say: "Speaking of mashed up..."

The ever faaabulous Contrast Podcast this week serves up a steaming plate of delicious mash(ups), with a few bangers thrown in for good measure. And Dearest Tim's even gone and made his own delectable dish!! Download the whole heap of potatoes here, and tell us how tasty you find it all here.

What's on the menu?

(00:00) DJ Marcel Dejeune - Drop it like your heart and brain are done in (Bonzos vs Snoop vs Death Cab)
Tim from The face of today

(04:12) Brat Productions - Easy heaven (Commodores vs The Cure)
Natalie from Mini-Obs

(08:14) IDC - Hey mug (The Streets vs Outkast)
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(12:52) DJ Lobsterdust - Baby Arrow (Marvin Gaye vs Mary Wells vs The
Carpenters vs The Album Leaf)
Chris from Culture Bully

(18:36) Go Home Productions - Ray of gob (Madonna vs The Sex Pistols)
FiL from Pogoagogo

(23:31) DJ Schmolli - Wicked wedding (Chris Isaak vs Billy Idol)
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(28:17) A plus D - An honest M.I.A. (M.I.A. vs The Bravery)
Eiron from The S+7 Method

(31:25) Bobby Martini - Too busy thinking about the magnificent seven (The Clash vs Marvin Gaye)
Tricia

(34:47) The Illuminoids - I’m a girl U want (The Monkees vs Devo)
Ross from Hummin’ Cummins

(38:14) The Very Best - Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa (ft. Vampire Weekend)
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(42:39) Aggro1 - Wonderwall Tribulations (Oasis vs LCD Soundsystem)
Adam from Pretending life is like a song

(47:10) Norwegian Recycling - How six songs collide
James from Appetite For Distraction

(53:31) 65 Days of Static - I’m dreaming of a white noise christmas (ft. Christina Aguilera)
John Q.

There are those who say the mashup has had it's day, and that even in its day it was the province of geeky, middle-class, white boys with too much time and money on their hands who shamelessly plundered hip-hop tunes. Well, if that's true then some of those white boys whipped up some arse-shakingly good stuff. And if as a result little Tarquin of Teddington discovered the joys of Jay-Z mixed in with his Hot Chip, then so much the better!!

The track I submitted is my all-time favourite serving of mash, but there are a whole slew of others that get my booty going. And here they are:

Jay-Zena - 99 Luft Problems (Jay-Z vs Nena)
Lady Sovereign vs Ministry - Love Me Or Hate Me Every Day
Silence Experiment - We Will Rock You In Da Club (50 Cent vs Queen)
2 Many DJs - No Fun & Push It (Salt-N-Pepa vs Stooges)
DJ Tripp - Jumping Someone Else's Freak (Missy Elliott vs The Cure)

Speaking of mashups and potatoes and white folks (and in honour of Tim putting some Snoop in da mix), here's Martha Stewart vs Snoop Dogg mashing potatoes together. For real.

Goodness, I hope regularly scheduled programming returns soon...

Holiday in Seattle

2008-11-20T20:19:00.005-08:00

Dearest Friends, I'm so excited. And I just can't hide it. You see, tomorrow morning early I set off for Seattle. But this is no ordinary weekend jaunt, oh no. Why? Because I finally get to meet en chair et en os our Dearest Colin. Isn't that splendid?? Colin was one of my first ever bloggy friends, and I'm delighted that finally we will be breaking the electron barrier.

So, what are our plans? Well, first we'll be visiting Dear Old Aunt Lucy. We're not sure what to bring such an aged relative; perhaps some Yardley's Soap, maybe a Cadbury Milk Tray. After that, I'm tagging along to a sociology seminar to observe Colin in his professional capacity. Possibly inbetween, but certainly thereafter, we will find time to down a jar or five. And I'm sure there will be music, sweet music. There'll be music everywhere. Singing and dancing, records playing.

Not enough? Well, on top of that we'll be meeting up with Dearest Juan and hopefully Dearest Nico. More? Dearest JaG is driving down to join in the festivities! It'll be a true blogger jamboree. As an aside, I wonder what the collective noun for a group of bloggers is? A blogspot? A screed? Answers in the comments, please.

And finally, to top it all off, Colin is accompanying me back to Vancouver so he can sample its delights for a few days. Careful, we might like him so much up here that we won't give him back...

I suppose you're going to want some music to go along with that. In fact, you're probably expecting me to post some hip Seattle bands. Maybe some vintage Subpop, or Fatal Taxi for Sweetie. Well, forget that, but you will get some appropriate choonz:

Public Image Ltd - Seattle (buy here)
The Business - Holiday in Seattle (buy here)

Since my heart is going pitter-pat in anticipation, I thought it'd be appropriate to tell you about this week's Contrast Podcast, which kicks off a new series on parts of the body. And where do we start? Why, the heart, of course. I fear I'm in too much of a rush tonight to post the tracklisting like I usually do, but trust me, it's a cardiac-arresting lineup this week. Download it here and post your comments here.

Actually, this week's CP links nicely to tomorrow's meetup in that my intro was a joint one with Dearest Mentok, and we recorded live in a Winnipeg hotel room. Fact. You see, Mentok was in town for a political shebang, while I was visiting for workish reasons, and we managed to overlap by a day. What fun! He's a grand fellow, and it was lovely to see him, even if he did abandon me at the Heart of Gold...

Truth be told, we picked our track a) for kitsch value, and b) because Neil Young hails from Manitoba; neither one of us especially likes "Heart of Gold." Now, "Only Love Can Break Your Heart," that's altogether a better song. Especially these versions:

Psychic TV - Only Love Can Break Your Heart (buy here)
St Etienne - Only Love Can Break Your Heart (buy here)

Anyway, I must be off. Seattle or bust!!

Whistling in the Dark

2008-11-12T23:27:00.006-08:00

Whistling over here

I can't really whistle properly - just never properly mastered the combination of lips & tongue & breath. I can do a reasonable approximation, but I sound like a sickly air mattress leaking air. My Father had a tremendous taxi whistle; with his two fingers in his mouth he could hail a cab from Jupiter. But alas, he never taught me how to do it...

OK, so I have some whistling baggage, I'll admit to that. Nevertheless, I think this week's Contrast Podcast theme is grand; Dearest Tricia (of no fixed blogabode) challenged contributors to come up with songs that make use of use sibilancy, and the result is indeed sooooper contrasty. You should really download the 'cast here, and feel free to comment here.

Here's something to wet your whistle:

(00:00) DeVotchKa - The enemy guns
Tricia

(05:58) Alfredo Linares y su Sonora - El Pito
The In Crowd from I’m Learning to Share!

(10:10) Alphabeat - Public image
FiL from Pogoagogo

(15:11) Paul K and the Weathermen - Golden opportunity
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

(18:33) Loose Fur - The ruling class
Natalie from Mini-Obs

(22:44) Rammstein - Engel
Adam from Pretending life is like a song

(27:07) DJ Riko - Whistler’s delight
Chip from Atomic Ned

(33:54) Geert Chatrou - Basilique de la bicyclette
Tim from The face of today

(37:32) Morgan Manifacier - I lost my dog
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(42:19) Lenlow - Bjorn slippy
Chris from Culture Bully

(47:50) Jan Turkenburg - Water
Eiron from The S+7 Method

(51:51) Less than Jake - Malt liquor tastes better when you’ve got problems
James from Appetite For Distraction

(54:43) Half Man Half Biscuit - Reasons to be miserable (part ten)
John Q.

(59:23) Elliott Smith - Jealous Guy
Dirk from Sexy Loser

This week I went rather contrarian and offered up a song that I really don't like. It's not that I feel that my beloved 'Public Image' is somehow too sacred to be covered, it's just that I think Alphabeat have done an exceptionally dreadful job of it. They eviscerate the song of all its snarly venom (sidebar: "'Public Image' is not the first Public Image Limited single; it is really the last Sex Pistols single. Discuss."), they flay it of its throbbing bass and jagged chaos of guitar, and replace it all with a deadpan, humourless delivery, tepid pop instrumentation, and that bloody annoying whistling. Argh. Fuck. Kill.

Before deciding I had to expose this travesty to the cold, harsh light of truth, I considered a few other whistly tunes, though none I considered awesome enough to deploy. I figured if I couldn't do ffabulous, then I'd do dreadful. See? I was feeling contrary. Crotchety old man syndrome, perhaps. Kids these days, no respect. When I were a lad, it were all wax cylinders and Morris dancing...

Happy Mondays - Step On (buy here)
Original Madchester über-baggy. I actually saw the Mondays open for The Pixies in NYC back in 1989. Talk about a dreadfully mismatched pair of bands; we indie kids had no clue what to make of Bez with his thousand-yard stare, freaky dancing, and maracas...

J Geils Band - Centerfold (buy here)
OK, I'll admit it: I thought this song ROCKED! OK, I did when I was about 12. Ply me with drink and I might sing you the entire song, though with air-mattressy whistling.

The Monochrome Set - Jet Set Junta (buy here or e-here)
While maybe not an awesome tune, had I thought of this ditty by these London post-punks before I sent off my submission, I might well have spared you the dreadfulness of Alphablech. Oh well...

Next week is the start of another series, this time focusing on body parts. And we kick things off with: The Heart. So get submitting! How? Like this.

P.S. It's time to start thinking about Christmas! Tim's preparing another Festive Fifty episode, and he wants you to list your top songs of 2008 in order (up to 50, but top 10 is OK as well) and send them to him at contrast.podcast@gmail.com by Sunday, 16 November. Zoiks! That's only four days from now! Get moving!!

God What A Racket!

2008-11-11T02:15:00.004-08:00

FiL, post-GWAR

How to tell if you're at a GWAR concert at the Commodore Ballroom in Vancouver:

Despite a widely advertised smoking ban, a fug of pot smoke hangs over the audience, more pungent than you would find at any hippyfest.
There are large demons onstage with instruments, musical and other.
They play screamingly fast & loud thrash metal with a satirical (if juvenile) edge.
The show revolves around a storyline that pits GWAR against various contenders for the Intergalactic Wrestling Championship Belt.
Within the space of fifteen minutes two of the contenders, Barack Obama and John McCain, are beheaded and flayed/disemboweled, respectively.
As a direct result of point 5 (supra), you are covered from head to toe in blood. Plus you get some in your mouth because you’re laughing.
You find yourself singing along to “Bring Back The Bomb.”
You keep tripping over shoes lost in the mosh pit, and you’re grateful for your eight-hole Doc Martens.
The nice people who fling you into the mosh pit are only too glad to pick you up when you fall. They even offer you their joints, which you have to decline on account that you need to drive home.
You can’t wait until GWAR come back next year on their 25th anniversary tour.

GWAR - Bring Back The Bomb (buy here)

Greeks in the Edicule

2008-11-09T11:16:00.007-08:00

So this Sunday morning while eating my (non-holy) bread I came across a BBC story about a skirmish earlier today between Orthodox Greek and Armenian monks at Jerusalem's Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is built on the alleged site of Christ's crucifixion. Apparently one of the Greek monks insisted on standing in the Edicule, said to house Christ's tomb, while the Armenians were trying to process through it in order to mark the supposed discovery in the 4th century of the cross on which Jesus was crucified. Words were exchanged, punches were thrown, and religious paraphernalia went flying. With their elaborate garments, the holy men looked rather like professional wrestlers.

There, in a nutshell, is everything I find ridiculous about organized religion. Petty tribalism masquerading as faith and spirituality. It's all rather silly, as is this:

Chumbawamba - Look! No Strings! (buy here)

And this:

Ch-Ch-Changes

2008-11-07T00:12:00.000-08:00

Barometric reading taken from here

Alright, let me try to get this thing restarted...

Yes, yes, I've been away from here for a bit. Life. Rats. Leaky windows. Plumbing. Global financial meltdown. Kids. That's why...

But enough of that - what better way to get restarted than with me waving the flag of Contrast Podcast, which this week experienced Change thanks to Dearest Adam's theme. There's certainly much about metamorphoses on offer, but what hasn't changed is the fine mix of clever intros and rock-solid music choices. Download it here, and comment here, if you please. And if you want to see what you're getting:

(00:00) Dudley Moore - Goodbye George

Tim from The face of today

(04:23) Billy Bragg - Days like these (DC Mix)

Adam from Pretending life is like a song

(08:08) Steve Forbert - The change song

Natalie from Mini-Obs

(13:38) The Faint - Agenda suicide

FiL from Pogoagogo

(19:04) Julie London - There’ll be some changes

ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(21:53) Moloko - Remain the same

Chris from Phosphorous.net

(27:05) John Betram - Change

Linda from Speed of Dark

(31:09) The Red Guitars - Good technology

John Q.

(36:16) The Charlatans - Everything changed

Tricia

(40:04) Rancid - Tropical London

Eiron from The S+7 Method

(44:04) Pink Nasty - Don’t ever change

Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(48:07) Fountains of Wayne - New Routine

Thom from Better in the Dark

(52:47) Ruut - Changes

James from Appetite For Distraction

(56:54) Lloyd Cole and the Commotions - Are you ready to be heartbroken?

Greer from A Sweet Unrest

(01:00:33) The Low Scores & MF Doom - Change the beat

Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(01:04:40) Dean Whitbread ft Danny Payne on drums - The other side

Dean from Pod of Funk

(01:09:02) Mildred Bailey and her orchestra with The Delta Rhythm Boys - There’ll be some changes made

The In Crowd from I’m Learning to Share!

(01:11:36) Billy Bragg - A change is gonna come (live)

Dirk from Sexy Loser

(01:16:29) Leonard Cohen - Democracy

JC aka The Vinyl Villian

Given the then-upcoming US election, I figured there'd be many contributions inspired by the electrifying campaign of now-President-elect (oh YEAH, that feels so GOOD to type!!) Obama. I toyed with the idea of following suit, but opted instead for a story of personal change, and how music was its handmaiden. You'll have to listen to the podcast to hear the tale, but suffice to say it involved the near death of the soul and how a suicidal song helped forestall its demise. Another song that assisted was "I Am A Revenant" by LA punk outfit The Distillers. Singer Brody Dalle's harsh screams of rage reminded me that although I might be walking dead, I was still walking...

Distillers - I Am A Revenant (buy here)

I also considered posting an aptly named Style Council tune, and using it as a trope for describing how my love for The Jam changed to indifference during the career of the Council, then accelerated into derision after Weller frolicked into the wild Wildwood of Dadrock and wooden beads. But Dearest JC and Dearest Adam both had already echoed similar sentiments here and here, so I spared you my polemic.

The Style Council - My Ever Changing Moods (buy here)

Finally, had I decided to wax hopeful about the election, I would have pinned my passion to an wholly apposite track by the multicultural marvel that is Cornershop.

Cornershop - Change (buy here or e-here)

Dearest Friends, I was indeed thrilled that the promise of change triumphed this past Tuesday. But my joy was tempered somewhat by change of the wrong kind: the passing of Proposition 8 in California, which removes the recently granted right of same-sex couples to marry. For goodness sake, why shouldn't two folks who love each other be allowed to commit themselves to each other formally and legally, regardless of their sex? What's that you say, Cardinal Mahoney? It's not "God's plan for people living upon this earth throughout time?" Well then, I hope you're following all the rest of God's plan, including banning cheeseburgers (Exodus 23:19 "Thou shalt not seethe a kid in his mother's milk"). Folks, there's still change to be fought for...

So at the risk of being rude, this one's for the 5,424,916 Californians who voted for Prop 8:

The Senseless Things - Homophobic Asshole (buy here)

Spinning Around

2008-10-31T00:10:00.005-07:00

Photo taken by this talented lady

I was going to post something tonight. One of the many stories that have accumulated and jammed up both mind and soul.

But I just couldn't.

I feel like I'm going around and around on some infernal carousel, sometimes awake, sometimes asleep, sometimes a bit of both. At times the ride is thrilling, but mostly I just want to get off.

Sigh.

Red Lorry Yellow Lorry - Spinning Around (buy here or e-here)
Music for Zombies - Carnival of Souls (buy here or e-here)
Christian Death - Sleepwalk (buy here or e-here)

Seven in a Row

2008-10-17T23:32:00.001-07:00

Typical. It's like the bloody bus; you wait ages for one to come by, then several show up at once. However, in this case it's not a curse, but a blessing; right now there are soooo many fine shows coming up in Vancouver that I just couldn't sit in the bus shelter and watch them drive by.

Recently I've been to see The Wedding Present and Abigail Washburn (about which more at a future date). Then over the next six weeks I'm off to with Frightened Rabbit supporting The Spinto Band, gory thrashers GWAR, garage noiseniks King Khan & BBQ, and finally the delightful Holly Golightly.

Phew!

And last night, Dearest Friends, I finally got to see The Legendary Pink Dots, whom I've long wanted to experience. It was a bit of a dilemma, for Wire were also playing that same evening, supported by the mighty Japandroids. But The Dots it was. LPD have been floating around the fringes, in the ozone, and underground for the past twenty-eight years, during which time they've prolifically released thirty-six albums plus a clutch of LPs. How to describe them for the uninitiated? Um, with difficulty. But here goes: LPD weave a dense and vast musical mesh of fairytale whimsy, surreal mysticism, and unsettling menace out of strands of electronica, goth, krautrock, folk, techno, dub, and psychedelia. Think (WARNING: Facile Artist Comparison Mishmash Alert!) early Pink Floyd meets Skinny Puppy meets Hawkwind meets Nurse With Wound meets Gorkys Zygotic Mynci meets Joy Division. I was hooked many years ago when I first heard frontman Edward Ka-Spel feyly singing of etchings and licking wax off moustaches in "A Day At The Dreamies."

LPD did not play that tune last night, but concentrated instead on their latest album, the excellent Plutonium Blonde. The show was, like the curate's egg, good in parts; the surrealy twee "My First Zonee" and the stalking, malevolent "Torchsong" were particular highlights for me. Oh, and I was particularly tickled when Niels van Hoorn, the mad saxophonist, went walkabout in the crowd, his instrument blasting out a fierce light from its bell with every bleat. However, I fear that overall the LPD live experience fell somewhat short, at least on this occasion.

Perhaps it was the venue; Richards on Richards is a rather soulless box, and last night it was only about a quarter full - perhaps everyone else was at Wire. But that aside, LPD's albums are glorious, grand, sweeping, immersive, mysterious things, and the group wasn't able to replicate that on stage. The three insistent strobe lights and the rather feeble pfft-pfft-pfft of a dry ice machine were a bit embarrassing, and the enigmatic Ka-Spel, clad in a black robe with a pink pashmina, looked like a cross between wee Ronnie Corbett (Yanks: see video in previous post, bloke on the right), Ozzy Osbourne circa 1971, and the singer from The Polyphonic Spree. While it was all quite endearing in an am-dram sort of way and the crowd was fiercely appreciative, it left me all rather underwhelmed.

Driving home in the rain after the show, I slipped Plutonium Blonde on the car stere-ere-ereo. As its otherworldly magnificence unfolded, the car brakelights in front of me became skittering cosmic paramecia and the windshield wipers the flapping wings of a mothlike pixie that sprinkled comet dust on my windscreen.

Now that's more like it!

The Legendary Pink Dots - Torchsong (buy here or e-here)
The Legendary Pink Dots - A Day At The Dreamies (buy here or e-here)
The Legendary Pink Dots - Princess Coldheart (buy here or e-here)

P.S. Here's a splendidly wibbly video of "Rainbows Too?," another fine track from Plutonium Blonde:

I Know My Place

2008-10-13T12:37:00.004-07:00

There's stuff in the works, Dearest Friends, believe you me. In the meantime, I was tickled to within an inch of my life by my discovery of this absolutely stunning gem from 1966. Featuring a young, pre-Python John Cleese and The Two Ronnies, this Frost Report sketch sends up the British class system something wicked. Quite possible one of the cleverest, most biting, ninetysome seconds ever committed to celluloid.

The Monochrome Set - The Ruling Class (buy here or e-here)
Hello Saferide - Middle Class (buy here or e-here)
Ringo - Working Class (buy here or e-here)

Tidying Up

2008-10-06T22:51:00.007-07:00

No, I'm not going to crap on about how busy things have been and how I really want and intend and promise to post more frequently. Although I just did and I do.

But it is time, Dearest Friends, for a spot of housekeeping. You see, my blogroll has been in dire need of updating for some time, but I've been most negligent in attending to it. So this evening I invite you to join with me as I slip on my pinny and rubber gloves (did you hear that lovely latex Snap! as they went on??), pick up my mop, and get ready to tidy things up...

First, it's time to part with a couple of blogs that seem to be no more. The Roaring Machine has not roared for many, many months, and I can but hope that Her Highness Dearest Liz, Queen Supreme of Tweegoth, is happy and serene on the Isle of Man with her Spoilt Victorian Child consort. Likewise, the Diary of a Contemporary Dandy has not been e-scribbled in since January. The blogosphere is a poorer place without Dearest Gayest Neil's frothy and hi-LAAA-rious prose.

Fret not, Dearest Friends, for as I sweep clean with mop in one latex-enrobed hand, so I restock with my other. And so, my shelves heave and groan with the addition of not one, not two, but SIX blogs! Who knew tidying up could be such fun (snap!)??

Pretending Life Is Like A Song is not actually a new blog round here, but the splendid reincarnation of an old favourite. Dearest Adam has been back with us for some time, and his wonderfully scribed reflections on songs picked out of his Bag of Excellent Taste are well worth your and my whiles.

A Stubborn Mule's Perspective isn't really a music blog per se, but please don't let that put you off. Dearest Sean from Oz explains things ranging from the financial to the mathematical to the interwebby in language that thickoes like myself can understand. Moreover, he and I go waaay back and have shared stories (which you'll never hear) involving bums, welts, grease, vodka, hospitals, cinema seats, Ministry concerts, dissolute coyotes, and gas masks.

It All Started With Carbon Monoxide, according to Dearest Agnes, who's also from Down Under. And from there it moved on to stories about music and other compelling matters, all with a refreshingly Aussie slant. And no jokes about shrimps on barbies; they're actually called prawns. And koalas are just koalas, OK? Not koala bears.

I Correct Myself, I Mean All The Time says Dearest Tart, but I don't believe her since there's nothing at all correct about her blog. Which is what makes it so delish. Drop your inhibitions and drop on by for heads of bread, music ranging from Motown to electrosleaze, and libido a go-go.

Dearest Mulrine is indeed extremely Pop Cultureddd, so you should visit chez elle in the hope that some of her cultcha may rub off on you. And you might get a dollop of sociology on the side, along with the main course of yummy words and fresh, hot music.

The Roman Empress reigns over a most stylish blog whose empire encompasses, inter alia, London, timeless music, priests, and, er, moustaches. She is a most benign monarch, and worthy of your adulation.

There, that's looking proper spic 'n' span now!! Now just a quick rubdown with some appropriate tuneage:

Echo & The Bunnymen - Do It Clean (buy here)
George Formby - When I'm Cleaning Windows (buy here or e-here)
Eminem - Cleanin' Out My Closet (Jacknife Lee Mix) (This RAWKS!!! Buy some Eminem here)

Mockingbird Bible

2008-09-29T22:34:00.011-07:00

Dearest Friends, you will recall that last year I was captivated by the songsmithery of local country-western-folk-blues singer/songwriter Rodney DeCroo. Well, he has a new album out, Mockingbird Bible, and I got religion.

As a quick recap for those of you who weren't listening the first time around, he's been variously compared to Steve Earle, Bob Dylan, Kris Kristofferson, Neil Young, John Prine, and even Bruce Springsteen. But don't let yourself get lazy and think that with that you've got him pegged; he's kinda sorta like the best bits of them all stitched together, with more on top.

At the core is a man with a superb talent for crafting poetic stories out of words and experience. Stories of people carrying burdens of regret, shame, fear, trauma, and self-doubt; of loves and relationships gone askew; of difficult memories and difficult questions; and also of beauty. They are sung in Rodney's supremely evocative voice; it's neither a polished nor a perfect voice, but its gritty and gravelly imperfections convey an honesty and authority based on hard experience and emotion. The songs are carried forward by Rodney's acoustic guitar, which he plays with an an elegant economy, and are embellished on the album by contributions from some fine Vancouver musicians; sweet backing singing by Sam Parton of the Be Good Tanyas, Ida Nilsen's tender vocals and piano, and the rich pluckings of stringmeister John Wood.

Mockingbird Bible is shot through with an introspective sadness and bitterness. The album's quasi-title track, 'Mockingbird,' is downright harrowing; Rodney picks at the strings as if they're his nerves as he sings an tense, high-pitched blues story of rejection and betrayal that leaves me exhausted each time I hear it. 'Loneliness Has The Heart Of A Spider,' which is just a fantastic metaphor, is mellower, mournful tale redolent of self entrapment. 'Shooting Stars' seems to lament the loneliness of a life on the road, with Rodney singing of "lonely girls in heartbreak bars / they love the way you play your guitar."

But it's not all gloom and doom and bleakness; if you want that, just stick to your Joy Division, you miserable gits. For in amongst all the angst are islands of spirituality. Now rest assured, I'm not talking about old-time, tub-thumping evangelism or kumbayah hippy-drippiness. It's a less-focused faith in grace and redemption, one that brings a sense of hope, however grubby. Nowhere is this more in evidence than on 'Spinning Wheel,' which sits roughly in the middle of the album's sadness: "I stand at the razor's edge / as these lights burn through my head / and despite every word I said / I praise this spinning wheel."

Probably what I find most powerful about Rodney's music is how it often it will sneak up and suddenly stab straight through my outer hide and pierce some damned, dammed up pool of emotion that I didn't even realize was there. Heck, that happened the first time I ever set eyes or ears on him, and it happened again while listening to the album. Twice, in fact. And though sometimes I can figure out why it does ("Oh my mother / Oh my father / Will we ever be reconciled? / Though I went out and I wandered / I am still your only child"), often I'm not really sure. "Deep waters, they don't run dry" - why does that bit from 'Black Earth, Green Fields' twist my heart in a knot??

I've been trying to figure out why the album is called Mockingbird Bible, which is odd because usually I'm fairly accepting of whatever an album is dubbed. Life's A Riot With Spy Vs. Spy? Yeah, sure Billy, cheers. Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? Um, right, WHAT-everr. I even asked Rodney, who gently encouraged me with a twinkle in his eye (well, there probably was one while he typed the e-mail) to decide that for myself.

So what did I come up with? Well, I was reminded of Miss Maudie's declaration in To Kill A Mockingbird: "Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy ... , they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us." In the book the bird becomes a symbol of innocence, and of innocence tarnished. I think Rodney just wants -perhaps needs- to sing his scarred heart out for us. And this album is his Bible, chapter and verse.

To top it all off, folks, Rodney is an excellent live performer. To mark the release of Mockingbird Bible he played a packed Railway Club with the robust backing of his three-piece Convictions. Interestingly, the band punched up the songs to a rockier-n-rollier pace, which traded in some of album's sadness for a greater sense of urgency. All of which was grand; after all, if a band just plays their repertoire note-for-note on stage, why bloody bother going out & staying up late??

Bottom line, Dearest Friends: buy the album, and go see him live. If you're in western Canada, you may well have the chance to catch one of the shown on his current tour of BC, Alberta, and Saskatchewan. If you do, take it. Pop over here to check out dates.

Rodney DeCroo - Shooting Stars (buy here)

Torn Covers

2008-09-19T21:43:00.005-07:00

Quilt by Lisa Visser, photo borrowed from here

Yes, yes, I know I'm late again. My excuse this time is that I'm nursing a cold. Forget rats or mosquitoes, kids are without a doubt THE most efficient disease vectors...

Anyway, I'd still like to draw your attention to the Contrast Podcast, which this week dove back under the covers to bring you a slew of cover versions that are very different from the original. In fact there was so much coverage that Dearest Young Tim only managed to bring us half this week; the rest will be forthcoming this coming Tuesday. Download it here, vent yourself here.

What's lurking beneath the covers:

(00:00) Polysics - My Sharona
Tim from The face of today

(03:41) Hands on Heads - School
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(05:02) Erroll Garner - (They want to be) close to you
Chris from Phosphorous.net

(10:45) Rats with wings - Hungry like the wolf
Matthew from Song by Toad

(16:34) Cake - I will survive
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(26:13) Jill Sobule - Hot in herre
Agnes from It all started with carbon monoxide

(29:56) La Perversita - (I can’t get no) satisfaction
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(32:57) The Cardigans - Iron man
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

(37:41) The Postal Service - Against all odds
Andy from Circles of Concrete

(42:28) Giant Bear - Head like a hole
Natalie from Mini-Obs

(47:05) TV on the Radio - Mr Grieves
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(51:33) The Secret Machines - Money (that’s what I want)
The In Crowd from I’m Learning to Share!

My contribution is coming up next week, so I'll wait until then to share with you what almost made the cut. But while perusing my covers collection I remarked how many versions of Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart" I seem to have amassed. Indeed, if "Yesterday" by The Beatles is the most covered song in history (as the Guinness Book of World Records tells us), then I think "LWTUA" must be hot on its mawkish heels. Now plenty of others in the blogosphere have remarked upon this, so this ain't no big revelation. But truth be told, I think the original meets John Peel's definition of the perfect song: "There's nothing you could add to it or subtract from it that would improve it." And that, Dearest Friends, is why I didn't consider submitting any covers of it for the CP.

But that won't stop me sharing a wodge of them with you tonight...

Vitamin String Quartet - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy here or e-here)
A stringy version performed by Vitamin Records' anonymous house quartet. From The Gothic Wedding Collection, but I recxkon that if you're playing this at your nuptials then you're pretty much doomed from the start...

Rebecca Hancock & The Prison Wives - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy e-here)
A sorta acoustic, C&W, folky take by Aussie singer-songwriter Hancock. Wouldn't be out of place on your local honky tonk's jukebox.

P.J. Proby - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy e-here)
Oh my, here the vintage Texas crooner/friend of Elvis/JD-swiller/ex-shepherd takes stab at it. Surely it should have been Love Will Tear My Trousers Apart Again?? No, please, hold your applause till the end of the show, folks...

Paul Young - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy here)
A fairly characteristic version by the eighties white soul boy. I always thought he sounded a bit like a strangled bullfrog.

Bis - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy here)
The now-separated Scottish DIY rascals give it the electro-indie treatment.

Tiger Baby - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy here)
Less bleep, more ambient electronica and breathiness from these dishy Danes.

Boy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart (from the Zick Zack Records sampler "Bis Auf Weiteres eine Demonstration - Geräusche Für Den Tag Danach" which I have no idea where to find)
No, this isn't queercore. Boy Division are a shouty trash-pop-spielart cover band from Hamburg, Germany whose singer is given to broadcasting his vocals via megaphone.

The Cure - Love Will Tear Us Apart (don't think there's a versh to buy, but correct me if I'm wrong...)
Does exactly what it says on the tin.

The Shanes - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy here or e-here)
Ye gods, another German cover version, this time in a Poguesian, Eastern European, squeezbox stylee. Recorded live in Serbia, apparently.

Calexico - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy here)
A fine, motoring interpretation from Arizona's finest alt.country collective.

Albert Kuvezin & Yat Kha - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy here or e-here)
Oh yeah, a Tuvan throat-singing version. This sort of mix-n-match gets my juices flowing...

Swans - Love Will Tear Us Apart (buy here or e-here)
Seminal NYC noiseniks have a go, with The Living Jarboe on vocals.

Oh, there are more, but that's all you get right now...

I'm gonna try. And I mean what I say.

2008-09-16T22:15:00.006-07:00

Dearest Friends, once again I find myself in a horribly vexed position. I've got scads to write about, but no time in which to write it. My hyperactivitied offspring have conspired with AIG and Lehman Brothers to suck up all free time. Curses, foiled again!!!

But let me try to start the clawback...

Recently I fell in love with Havana Guns. "But FiL," you cry, "they're old news! So passe! So oh-five-oh-six!" Yeah, well, I'm a couple of years late, so fucking what. The fact is that their single She Always Goes Down made its way onto my computer and I've been utterly smitten by its aching, yearning, uber-catchy pop. "But still we danced all through the night / the DJ could not save our lives / the record stops then starts again." Gaaaah! I'm not sure why, but those lyrics cut me right through to the heart.

So, first I rushed over here to buy the only available vinyl single. Then I did a bit of snooping around on the interwebby to see what I could find about The sound comparisons are sound: The Strokes meet Blondie having a ciggy with the Jesus and Mary Chain while The Long Blondes play a set up on the pub stage. They call it "motorcycle pop." The band formed in 2004 in London, had some indie success with She Always Goes Down, and released NYCS in 2007. Most of the Guns seem to have recently coalesced into Rock City Sixteen, which seems to have added a big smear of post-punk into the mix and amped up the shoegazy guitar fuzz. I bought that single as well - told you it was love...

Havana Guns - She Always Goes Down (buy here)

Rock City Sixteen - Antarctica (buy here)

And here's a wee video of the brilliant NYCS for you:

Cheese, Glorious Cheese

2008-09-10T22:34:00.004-07:00

A platter of pure loveliness: (clockwise from top) Stinking Bishop, Epoisses,
Chabichou de Poitou, Beenleigh Blue, 5-year gouda

Last week the craving returned. I tried to resist, for the sake of both my wallet and my body. I tried manfully, but ultimately to no avail. By Friday morning I was desperate.

I had to have ... CHEESE.

And so round lunchtime I hopped, skipped, and jumped the few blocks from workplace to my main local dealer, Les Amis du Fromage, and dropped an embarrassing amount of money on some fine dairy product.

At home that evening, I realized with much disappointment that I had left my swag in the fridge at work. I managed to sweat through the night, and the next morning Little Man and I made a Hail Mary run to the office for salvation. After discharging some ancillary errands, we returned to the house for lunch. And we ate our cheese.

I was uncertain whether Little Man would share my enthusiasm for any of the ponging, pungent pieces that huddled on the cheese tray, but I needn't have worried; his favourite was the butterscotchy five-year-old gouda ("Almost as old as me!" he declared), followed by the wrinkly, goaty splendour of the Chabichou du Poitou (or "Chubby-chew," as he dubbed it). The sweet mouldiness of the Beenleigh Blue he found pleasant, but he was less keen on the the in-yer-face strength of the Epoisses and my favourite, the delightfully fetid Stinking Bishop. Give him time...

Dearest Friends, I nearly wept for joy. Joy at the sight, smell, taste, and texture of my beloved cheeses, and joy at the fact that Little Man loved them too

Les Trois Fromages - La Tartiflette (buy e-here)
French pop-punk whippersnappers sing the praises of cheese. Straight up.

P.S. Since 'tis once again the season to automotively schlep the kids from activity to activity, I burned a CD for inflight enjoyment. So here are three of the tracks that Daddy FiL and the bairns currently bop to en route:

Althea & Donna - Uptown Top Ranking (buy here)
Thee Headcoatees - Teenage Kicks (buy here or e-here)
The Real Tuesday Weld - Bathtime In Clerkenwell (buy here)

And if you've never seen the Bathtime In Clerkenwell video, you need to do so right now.