In 1977

This week the seventy-seventh episode of Contrast Podcast takes us back to 1977. Ah, what a year! You see, dearest Friends, 1977 was my Year Zero.

Twice.

I saw Star Wars for the first time in 1977 and my eight-year-old imagination was completely enraptured. Thirty years on, the film still gives me thrills and chills, which I'm hopefully imparting to my very own children. Why, just the other day Little Man and I watched Empire Strikes Back together and now we have a splendid little game where I wheeze like an asthmatic scuba diver and proclaim in a Vaderian rumble "I AM YOUR FATHER!!" Little Man squeals in delight, retracts his arm into his sleeve, and runs around gleefully shouting "AAAAH! You cut off my hand!!" Yes, the delight continues.

The second Year Zero dawned when I first heard 1977's Never Mind The Bollocks as a callow, Billy-Joel-fed teen. It was a lightning bolt; then and there I knew nothing would ever be the same.

And so, now have a listen to 1977 through the eyes and ears of the Contrast Podcast contributors:

(00:00) The Pockets - Doin’ the do
Tim from The face of today
(03:08) The Clash - 1977
FiL from Pogoagogo
(07:07) Jackson Browne - Nothing but time
Marcy from Lost in your inbox
(10:54) Elvis Costello - Watching the detectives
Lyle from Mentok the Mind-taker
(16:40) The Fall - Last orders
Chris from Phosphorous.net
(19:30) Fleetwood Mac - Never going back again
Anna from Music I-Quiz
(22:58) The Saint Orchestra - The Return of The Saint
Shaun from Cold Citrus
(26:28) T.Rex - Dandy in the underworld
Natalie from Mini-obs
(31:46) The Heartbreakers - One track mind
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away
(34:35) David Bowie - Heroes
The Duke of Straw from The Late Greats
(38:28) Led Zeppelin - Rock and roll
James from Jamesisadork
(42:26) Peter Gabriel - Solsbury Hill
Linda from Speed of dark
(47:53) AC/DC - Whole lotta Rosie
Dweller from Child without an iPod
(54:18) Ian Dury - Blockheads
Crash from Pretending life is like a song
(58:28) The Vibrators - You broke my heart
Mark from Cinema du Lyon

I'm thrilled to see that no-one deployed The Eagles' Hotel California, which is at the very top of FiL's least favourite songs EVAH list. I was also pleased to see a good dollop of punk - Vibrators, Heartbreakers, Fall, hooray! Given my preferences, I'd have loved to see MORE, but that's just being selfish. That said, over here it's MY blog and I want MORE PUNK!! So, herewith a few more choonz to pogo to, all of which were under consideration for this week, and all of which were born in, around, or of that magical year, 1977:

The Cortinas - Fascist Dictator (buy here or e-here or on eBay if you want the original 7")
Bristol band who wore their R&B influences on their leather sleeves. Picked their name cos it sounded cheap & nasty, just like the car.

Siouxsie & the Banshees - Mittageisen (buy here)
The lovely Siouxsie slid into punk as part of the Bromley Contingent, a group of fans who followed round after The Pistols. First Banshees gig was an impromptu filler slot at the notorious 100 Club Punk festival in December 1976, with none other than Sid Vicious on drums. They played a rambling version of The Lord's Prayer. Hallowed be their name...

The Damned - Neat Neat Neat (buy here)
Second single from these original editions, who are still going strong. They've been referred to as "The Beatles of punk" due to their longevity and influence. And if they end up like the Rolling Stones we'll never know, since gothy lead singer Dave Vanian has always brought an element of the undead to their performances (boom-boom, no, please hold your applause).

X-Ray Spex - Oh Bondage, Up Yours [Live] (buy here or e-here)
Fronted by the snotty, spotty, lippy, and formidable Polly Styrene, this lot made a righteous din and used sax to great effect. Here you have them loud & live at The Roxy, which for a brief, shining moment was one of the epicentres of London punk.

The Sex Pistols - God Save The Queen [Live] (again, try eBay if you're keen)
Surely you don't need me to explain who these lads are... Here for your consideration is a vinyl rip from a bootleg recording of a couple of 1977 Swedish concerts. The sound quality is crap, but listen for the feeling more than the sound fidelity. You'll get the point.

Richard Hell & The Voidoids - Love Comes In Spurts (buy here )
Ah, we cannot forget the Yankee cousins. Indeed, punk arguably started in the Yoo Ess ov Aaay, c.f. New York Dolls, The Ramones, et. al. Indeed, Malcom McLaren, the crafty impresario behind The Pistols, claims the Kentucky-born Hell gave him (and therefore his wife, Vivienne Westwood) the idea for all that safety-pin-and-torn-clothing gubbins. The Pistols say McLaren is full of shit.

Johnny Thunders & The Heartbreakers - Born to Lose (buy here or e-here)
Huzzah for ZB!!! He has most excellent taste!! Noo Yoiker Thunders started out as bassist for the incomparable New York Dolls before plowing his own punk furrow. Richard Hell was also a Heartbreaker for a while. Thunders made his guitar scream, hung out with The Ramones, and necked all sorts of illicit substances. In 1991 he was found dead under a coffee table in his New Orleans hotel room, contorted "like a pretzel." Rumours of foul play still abound.

Oh, and you MUST have a wee viddy of how it all was:

Those nice Sex Pistols:



Oh Siouxsie! Sigh...



Ms Styrene & her X-Ray Spex:




Next week, more numerical japery as Tim asks us to contribute songs that would have originally been released on 78 RPM records. We're talking real old school. How can you contribute? Well, find out over here.

Skool is Kool

Top of the class!!!

So, Dearest Friends, it's that glorious time of the year when those of us with offspring dance a merry jig of relief as wee Cressida and Tarquin return to the hallowed halls of edjikaishun. Hip! No more whines of "Daddy, I'm BORED, there's NOTHING to do!!" Hip! No more scraping young faces off of TV screens after multi-hour Babarfests. Hooray! No more negotiations over extended bedtimes because it's still light and we have no school tomorrow.

But then there's also the Yah! of no more long afternoons spent discovering beachcombing treasure. The Boo! of waiting another year until the next PNE. The Sucks! of no more leisurely barbecues that ignore prescribed lights-out time.

You can't win. Or lose.

Anyway, yes, this week it's Back to School of the bairns, and also for Contrast Podcast! The curriculum for this week looks, as usual, extremely varied and rich. So sit up, no talking, download the 'cast here, and write your essays here. Pay attention: the lesson is about to begin...

(00:00) Cocoanut Groove - End of the summer on Bookbinder Road
Tim from The face of today

(03:16) Thee More Shallows - Night at the knight school
Linda from Speed of dark

(07:45) Nirvana - School
Chris from Phosphorous.net

(10:43) Blackalicious - Chemical calisthenics
James from Jamesisadork

(14:16) Billy Bragg - The Saturday boy
Greg from Broken Dial

(17:44) Kraftwerk - Pocket calculator
Mark from Cinema du Lyon

(23:19) Suicidal Tendancies - Institutionalized
FiL from Pogoagogo

(29:41) Adam Franklin - Seize the day
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(32:13) Yves Montand - En sortant de l’ecole
English translation of this song

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

(35:29) Black Box Recorder - The school song
Matthew from Song by Toad

(40:01) Kid Harpoon - Childish dreaming days
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(43:07) Patty Larkin - The book I’m not reading
Anna from Music I-Quiz

(47:39) Rockpile - Teacher teacher
Natalie from Mini-obs

(51:16) The Odds - Love is the subject
Tom from Better in the Dark

(56:34) The Replacements - Fuck school
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

In packing my schoolbag, I carefully considered what ditty to bring to class. Here are the ones that almost made the grade:

GWAR - School's Out (buy here)
A cover of the Alice Cooper classic, soaked in GWAR's patented blend of bodily fluids. Dismissed on the basis that the theme was back to school, not school's out. But then again the lyrics do exclaim "School's out for-EVAHHHH!!"

Ramones - Rock 'n' Roll High School (buy here)
My Forest Hillz homiez teaching us all how it really is. ONETWOFREEFOAH!!! P.S. I love you, Riff Randell...

The Adored - Chemistry (buy here)
I hated chemistry, but our high school chem teacher was a scream. An unprepossessing dwarf of a Hungarian, he would regale us with low-key stories of being arrested as a lad for dropping boxes of sodium from Budapest bridges into the Danube (sodium + water = BOOOOM!). Oh, the Adored? Hollywood power pop punx in something of a 1977 stylee, and new best friends of Buzzcocks. Rather nice fellows too, even if ex-singer Ryan put a boot in my ear when I saw them support Messrs Shelly & Diggle.

OK, I know I missed teaching you the Moustache class last week. But I, er, um, have a doctor's note. Yeah, that's it. Anyway, your homework for next week: 1977. Learn how to submit your assignment here.

Through The Wars

Rodney DeCroo, Vancouver Folk Music Festival, July 2007. Thanks to Astro Guy.

I stumbled across Rodney DeCroo purely by chance. It was the morning of a July Saturday, the second day of the Vancouver Folk Festival, and I was hanging out with Darling Daughter. I thought the Brand New Old School session looked promising, with Old Man Luedecke on that bill. So we settled down at Stage Two.

Sharing the stage was The Trucker's Memorial, an unassuming duo consisting of a bewhiskered DeCroo and the bespectacled Rae Spoon. My friends, Dearest Daughter and I were transfixed by the lovely alt-country they spun. And when Rodney's aching, gravelly voice got two-thirds through the poignant "Blue Rooms," tears welled up suddenly behind my sunglasses.

When comes the day for me to die
Well, I hope no-one I know
Sits around and cries
'Cause I've just gone back
To my place in that sky

Darling Daughter, seated in front of me intently watching the stage, didn't notice. For that I was grateful; while I think I could have tried to explain how DeCroo had managed in one simple verse to tap into a reservoir of loss I'd filled over the past year, it would have been, well, awkward.

My festival volunteering commitments meant I was only able to catch a brief additional glimpse of Trucker's Memorial onstage that weekend. But I loaded up on a couple of CDs, since what I had heard had left me eager to hear more. So what do you get, Dear Friends, when you listen to Rodney DeCroo? You get honest, raw, gritty, lucid, songs set to paced, elegantly sufficient country strumming. Stories of disappointment, hurt, regret, longing, and realization. And to misquote Johnny Rotten, he means every single word of it, maaan. You want soul? You got it here in spades. He lays it bare for you to see and hear, but without the melodrama and airbrushing of mainstream C&W.

Alright, alright, I hear you all clamouring for comparisons, for waypoints, for metaphor. Sigh, how to do this without sounding trite? Oh well, here goes: take the absolute best bits of Johnny Cash, Steve Earle, Bob Dylan (yes, I know, even I can see there are good bits of Dylan), a handful of gravel, a lungful of cigarette smoke, and a bucket of pain and foibles. Mix them all up real good in a pair of battered cowboy boots, then pour into a six-string. And enjoy.

DeCroo's background certainly gives one a good idea of the rough grit whence his music springs. He grew up in a Bible-bashingly Baptist, blue-collar Pittsburg home. His Vietnam-vet father took the family to Canada when he was five so as to avoid a second tour of duty. However, the war had already damaged his psyche and DeCroo's mother took little Rodney back to Pittsburgh for safety. The teen years were (mis)spent up to no good, and at sixteen he fled the cops to Canada, where he joined his father drinking and brawling around the seamier, gothicky bits of the BC interior. After a few years bumming around Vancouver in a similar self-destructive vein and style, DeCroo found college and music, in that order. And things began to turn around, somewhat.

I was fortunate enough to chat with Rodney a couple of times during the festival, and what struck me most about him was his kindness and generosity. Indeed, his gentleness seemed at odds with his history, and I caught myself later on thinking that maybe the press releases and articles I had read after our meeting had exaggerated his past. But I think that through the another kind of grit, the kind that's synonymous with fortitude, he has shaped the man he is today out of the man he was.

Speaking of his generosity, Rodney was kind enough to share with me a few unreleased tracks, which I can't wait to share in turn with you. All of them are simply fantastic. But first, if you're keen to get your mitts on his material (and you SHOULD be by now!), you can start with his 2004 album, Rodney DeCroo And The Killers (no, not those Killers, silly!) which you can e-buy here or purchase here. His 2006 release, War Torn Man, you can e-buy here or get in hard copy here. Then there's the magnificent Trucker's Memorial CD, which you can get from here . Finally, he is frequently on the road, so drop by his Myspace page to find out when he's next in your neck of he woods. Then go see him. Vancouverites, take note: he plays the Red Room on 27 September.

Right, onto the music - enjoy!

Rodney DeCroo - War Torn Man
Alternate version of the song from the live album of the same name. A stark, powerfully haunting track about DeCroo's scarred father. "Once I heard my daddy cry / I was six and I didn't know why / All alone in the living room dark / With a bottle and a shotgun and a bombed-out heart."

Rodney DeCroo with Sam Parton - Rain Rain
Unreleased duet with Sam Parton of local Vancouver bluesy folksters The Be Good Tanyas. The released version can also be found on War Torn Man.

Rodney DeCroo with Sam Parton - Black Earth Green Fields
The Be Good Tanya lends her talents on this track as well. Apparently a DeCroo/Parton collaborative album is due out sometime this year, which, based on these two tracks, is indeed something to look forward to!

Rodney Decroo - Mocking Bird
Another beautifully sparse and unsettling track of withered love and betrayal.

I'm mighty pleased to have made Rodney DeCroo's acquaintance. Even if he did make me cry like a wimp.

I Love The Smell Of Bagels In The Morning

One of those bagels and that coffee

The phone rang at six-thirty this morning, the first of the Labour Day long weekend.

Six. Thirty.

Dearest Wife answered it, but it was for me. A colleague in Ontario, some three hours ahead, who needed something urgently and was taking me up on my kind offer, made yesterday in a fit of sympathy, to help her out should she need it, seeing as she was working on a Saturday.

So I hauled my arse out of bed, showered, and drove to the office, all a-grumble.

But you know what, Dearest Friends? It all turned out good. In fact, MUCH better than good.

It was a sunny morning.

I had a pleasant natter with the security guard at the office, who told me a thrilling story about the time he escaped just before his truck was flattened by the payload of a Martin Mars water bomber.

It took me an easy fifteen minutes to sort out my colleague.

On the spur of the moment, I decided to swing by Granville Island, pick up a bag of fresh, hot bagels, and score a delish JJ Bean latte for myself and Dearest Wife.

The barista complemented me on my cool t-shirt.

And on the way home, I slipped some crucial dub sounds into the CD playah and had a rare connect-the-dots moment somewhere around Dunbar and 21st when it all came together, it all made sense, and was all crystal-clear, despite (because of?) the windscreen vibrating from all that bass.

It's going to be a fantastic day.

Max Romeo & The Upsetters - One Step Forward (buy here)

Epilogue:

Dearest Friends, it was a fantastic day. Little Man, Dearest Father-in-Law, and I first headed to Gastown to see a classic car concours d'elegance. My dream car is probably now a 1937 Packard sedan, though I'd have to retrofit it with a hybrid engine and airbags.

While ogling autos, we stopped at a Starbucks for refreshments. As we sipped, Billy Bragg and Wilco came on the stere-ere-ereo singing California Stars. And dammit if I didn't have another one of those moments of clarity. Two in one day, eh? I must be using up my quota.

We drove to Granville Island via East Hastings which, Dearest Friends, thronged as usual with the damaged, the afflicted, the addicted, and the destitute. But as we stopped and started past boarded up shops and abandoned buildings, I could clearly see (more clarity!!) the ragged outlines of community. People chatting. People laughing. People helping each other. And my sorrow/shame was tinged with hope.

At Granville Island, a lovely lunch, though admittedly one tinged with thoughts of East Hastings. Next, a whip round to assemble the ingredients for a belated anniversary dinner: fresh spinach, purple potatoes, and fresh Haida Gwaii halibut.

And now home.

Billy Bragg & Wilco - California Stars (buy here)

All Antsy

Hello, Dearest Friends. Things workish continue at a pace most hectic and my blog presence has suffered accordingly. All thanks, as I previously intimated, to those pesky Yankee bankers chasing mammon by lending scads of money to people they shouldn't have. At least I'm working with a bunch of good, decent folk.

Anyway, I was working with one of those folks this afternoon when my cellphone rang (ringtone: Buff Medways' "Troubled Mind," much to my co-worker's bemusement). It was Dearest Wife, in something of a tizz. Apparently the house had just experienced a sudden and robust infestation of flying ants, and what was she to do about it? For the sake of marital harmony, I resisted the temptation to suggest that she look up "Aardvaark" in the phone book. But I really couldn't offer any constructive suggestions. By the time I got home, Dearest Wife had partly denuded the horde with chemicals, and the remainder had dissapated as mysteriously as the swarm had formed.

Oh, let's not beat about the bush. I know you know what I'm about to post:

Adam & the Ants - Antmusic (buy here)

Speaking of pesky, annoying things, today is is Contrast Podcast day. Well, the podcast itself isn't annoying, but what's on offer this week might well be. You see, Bob from Gimme Tinnitus (I have a spot of tinnitus in me left ear, thanks to an overly loud Ned's Atomic Dustbin concert in 1992) has suggested this week's theme of songs that get stuck in your head. So go get it lodged in your brain right here, and don't forget to comment here. Want a preview of what you'll be humming days from now? Here you go:

(00:00) Laromlab - Around the world
Tim from The face of today

(03:47) Lou Reed - Satellite of love
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(07:37) Plugs - That number
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(11:53) Soul Coughing - Circles
Jon from Your moment of Zen

(15:24) The Pixies - Debaser
FiL from Pogoagogo

(21:00) Radiohead - Inside my head
Chris from Phosphorous.net

(24:49) Sister Rosetta Tharpe - Up above my head
John from You must be from away

(28:33) Silverchair - Straight lines
Anna from Music I-Quiz

(33:19) The Darkness - Dinner lady arms
Cindy from Adzuki Bean Stash

(37:03) Jona Lewie - You’ll always find me in the kitchen at parties
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(40:42) Sally Shapiro - He keeps me alive
Dweller from Child without an iPod

(44:59) Jazz Butcher - Nothing special
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(48:26) Motion City Soundtrack - The future freaks me out
James from Jamesisadork

(52:28) Gina G - Ooh aah, just a little bit
Mark from Cinema du Lyon

(55:51) The Who - Baba O’Riley
Natalie from Mini-obs

I chose to go with a song that I'm pleased to have stuck in my head. When Frank Black & his Pixies pop to the fore of my mind howling about un chien andalusia, it makes me a very happy FiL indeed. But I did consider inflicting one of these on you instead:

Trio -Da Da Da (buy here)
Ah, the Teutonic Casiotone classic. Sticky/catchy/annoying (circle one) as fuck. All hail the Neue Deutsche Fröhlichkeit.

Mortiis - Fanget i Krystal (buy here)
One day, Mortiis decided to pack it in as bassist for infamous and legendary Norwegian black metallers Emperor, don a prosthetic nose and pointy ears, and make beeply, synthy electronic dungeon music. I dare you to shake this groove from your cranium. I'm a fan.

Next week's theme: Musicians with Moustaches. Get a-waxin' and a-twirlin'.

This Will Hurt A Bit

These teeth belong here

Dear Friends, tomorrow morning I'm off to the dentist for the first of two sessions to crown a molar that fell victim to grim British dental care.

It is good to be back in a land of tip-top dentistry, but I can already feel the needle in my gum...

Therapy? - Teethgrinder (buy here or e-here)

Drained

Oh, Dear Readers, it has been an unexpectedly exhausting week. Work has been hectic, thanks ultimately to those greedy enough to have cultivated the reprehensible and irresponsible practice of subprime mortgage lending. But let's not go there.

I'm tired, I'm spent, I'm emotional. So when I saw this I just about wanted to cry.

Sod it, all I want is to give peace, love and kisses out to this whole stinking world...

Have a lovely weekend, and be excellent to each other!!

Carter USM - The Only Living Boy In New Cross (buy here)

Island Time

Family FiL at Oyster Bay, Mayne Island, August 2007

Hello, Dearest Friends, I'm back. Happy as I am to be chatting with you once again, I will readily admit that I'm missing Mayne and the family, who are staying on for another fortnight. I'll be back on the forthcoming weekends, but that's just not enough...

Actually, it was a funny old break. Thoroughly enjoyable, but slightly out-of-phase way, as if not everything was in its proper place. Much of it has to do with the odd summer we've been experiencing in this part of the world. You see, normally August would see the island aloft in high summer. Hot hot heat tempered by cool ocean breezes, parched grounds dressed in golden grass, sun resolutely shining. But this year the mercury was wibbling from comfortable to chilly, rains earlier in the season left vegetation lush and the aquifer well stocked, and the blue blue sky was colonized by fat, sheepy clouds.

Then there were the animals. Our beloved orcas did not make a single appearance during the day, nor were we woken at night by the huffing and splashing of a nocturnal visit. However, we did see a normally elusive otter cavorting just offshore. And we were inspected unusually closely by a seal during one of our boulder-hopping, tidal-pool-exploring, crab-chasing (well, at least for our Ginadawg) coastal walks. In addition, and rather unnervingly, we were advised via flyer by the Mounties (well, the sole resident Mountie) of a cougar sighting. We subsequently chatted to a local who reported that a mother cougar with cub had been seen swimming (yes, swimming) to shore in one of the island's bays, and had also been spotted prowling near a road. Speculation is the beast either island-hopped from Vancouver Island, or hitched a ride on a log boom being towed past. Mayne is rife with deer, so the hope is Mama Cat will prefer venison to long pig and avoid a clash of cultures. Still, it all added a certain frisson to our walks in the woods (Aside: see what Mentok has to say about cougars over here, and have a listen while you're at it to the most excellent Vancougar track he's posted).

And so I'm trying to get back into the swing o' things. To switch from island time to city time. To move from kayaking on gentle swells to riding the waves of work. And with that in mind, let me remind you that today is Contrast Podcast day! Yay! I neglected to tell you about last week's Significant Other episode, so have a listen here if you've not done so already. This week sees the fruition of a CD swap most excellently suggested by Ross and most ably coordinated over a couple of months by Tim. Basically folks signed up to make compilation CDs for one of the other participants assigned at random. Discs were exchanged via snail mail, and this week you get to hear the cream of the collective swap. Download it directly here, look at the delish pictures here, go comment here, then figure out what you'll contribute for next week's theme of "Shapes. "

So, the meta-compilation CD would look like this:

(00:20) The Jolts - Caffeine heartbeat
Ross from Just gimme indie rock who got his CD from FiL from Pogoagogo
(02:50) Asylum Street Spankers - Beer
SAS Radio who got his CD from Cindy from Adzuki Bean Stash
(07:09) Tanner Walle - But then
Colin from And before the first kiss who got his CD from Marcy from Lost in your inbox
(12:13) The Modern Lovers - Roadrunner
Crash from Pretending life is like a song who got his CD from Natalie from Mini-obs
(16:44) Oxen of the Sun - The shoes of Monsieur Bourdin
Tim from The face of today who got his CD from ZB from So the wind …
(19:07) The Awkward Stage - Heaven is for easy girls
Chip from Atomic Ned who got his CD from Jim from Quick before it melts
(22:37) Moonbabies - Take me to the ballroom
Liz from The Roaring Machine who got her CD from SAS Radio
(27:11) The Evil Queens - Ditchdigger blues
Coxon from To die by your side who didn’t get his CD from Chip from Atomic Ned
(30:38) Laika - Badtimes
Cindy from Adzuki Bean Stash who got her CD from Tim from The face of today
(36:00) Dexys Midnight Runners - Seven days too long
Jim from Quick before it melts who got his CD from Crash from Pretending life is like a song
(39:31) Wayne Jarrett - Brimstone and fire
ZB from So the wind … who got his CD from Colin from And before the first kiss
(45:55) The Boggs - Arm in arm
Natalie from Mini-obs who got her CD from Coxon from To die by your side
(50:05) Bombay Bicycle Club - Sixteen
Marcy from Lost in your inbox who got her CD from Ross from Just gimme indie rock
(55:01) The Brilliant Corners - Meet me on Tuesdays
FiL from Pogoagogo who got his CD from Liz from The Roaring Machine

I was lucky enough to receive a super-smashing see-dee from Dearest Liz & Dearest Simon of Spoilt Roaring Victorian Machine Child. It was all so lovely, that I was nearly driven mad by having to choose but one track. Also in the running were:

Ratcat - Don't Go Now (buy here)
Jingly-jangly-fuzzy indie pop from Down Under, circa 1988.

Shout Out Louds - Tonight I have To Leave It (buy here)
The Swedes are a fine race who make beautiful music and fierce alcoholic beverages (c.f. Skane Aquavit, brannvin). This is swoony stuff, and is that I cowbell I hear??

BMX Bandits - Islands In The Stream (I think this was only issued on a flexi)
OK, I wasn't really considering offering this as the CD's ubertune, even if it's performed by these legendary Scots. The original version of this song, by Kenny Rogers & Dolly Parton, is in my Top Five loathesome list. However, that doesn't stop me from knowing all the words. By the way, remind me to tell you one day why Kenny Rogers owes me $20.

As a rather belated musical afterthought, today it hit me what song I should have submitted for the DJ Russian Roulette episode: La Bamba. You see, I was in a local produce shop and the song came on the tinny store transistor. I kid you not, I saw three separate folks singing along and hipswaying absent-mindedly: a soccer mom, a computergeek girlie, and a hipster dude with an obscure t-shirt design. Damn, coulda saved my life...

Ritchie Valens - La Bamba (buy the big one here )

Wait, wait, another afterthought. I'd best post another Vancougar tune, coz that feline presence did rather freak us out ever so slightly.

Vancougar - Down On Me (buy here or e-here)

Briefly

Village Bay Ferry Terminal, Mayne Island, July 2007

Dearest Friends, we're off shortly to our beloved Mayne Island for a week-long summer family holiday. We're looking forward to pootling about on the shores, communing with the orcas, evening barbecues overlooking the sea, and a spot of camping on nearby Saltspring Island. I am feeling rather tired and drained, so the slowdown to island time will be most welcome.

I had both intended and hoped to post much more over the past couple of weeks. Really, I did. So what happened? Work. Fatigue. Absence of muses. Summer doldrums. Sigh.

But I do have much to write about, and I promise I will do so upon my return and that of the muses. So, what do you have to look forward to? The compelling music of Rodney DeCroo. The slam-poetic urgency of The Fugitives. A film portrait of the incomparable Lisa Gerrard. Stories from Warsaw and New York. I hope you will find some of it interesting.

But two brief items before I bugger off. First, for Dearest Marcy who expressed such delightful joy at hearing the Lords of the New Church cover of "Like A Virgin," a bit of a history lesson. The Lords were fronted by Stiv Bators, who started out as the singer for NY punk progenitors, The Dead Boys. To be completely accurate, the group actually started out in Cleveland, Ohio as Rocket From The Tombs in 1975, thus disproving the assertion that nothing worthwhile ever came out of Cleveland (Actually, this theory was already debunked by the fact that Marcy herself hails from that urb). In 1976 they moved to New York, where their nihilistic, frenetic, and occasionally violent shows were a stark contrast to the artier strand of the city's burgeoning punk scene, characterized by Television and their ilk. Bators himself was given to slicing and hanging himself on stage, though occasionally he was content with just contorting himself into sinewy knots.

Apart from having one of the best titles ever, The Dead Boys' first album, Young Loud and Snotty, kicks off with the blistering jet of steam that is "Sonic Reducer." With Cheetah Chrome and Jimmy Zero on gee-tarrs, Johnny Blitz blitzing on drums, Jeff Magnum firing big bass bullets, and Stiv 's throatily shouting at you and me that he "Don't need no pretty face / Don't need no human race," this song really is the dog's bollocks. Or the cat's pyjamas. If those pyjamas were soaked in sweat and spit, slashed, then safety-pinned together.

The Dead Boys - Sonic Reducer (buy here)

Oh, sod it! You really need to see Stiv in action to get the full picture:



You can read a much fuller account of Stiv's story here, and get a few more tunes here. But let me give away the sad ending: in 1990 Stiv, allegedly inebriated, was struck on a Parisian sidewalk by a laundry van. After being checked out in hospital, he was allowed to go home, where he died in his sleep as a result of undetected head injuries. Rock 'n' roll.

Second brief (literally) item: I went shopping for underwear earlier this week and found this. Now, tell me, which manly man could resist an item with such a moniker? Not me. So now I'm a proud owner of a pair. OK, maybe not proud, but amused.

Pulp - Underwear (buy here)

Dearest Friends, do stay well and I will see you shortly.

Gimme Gimme Gimme Some Russian Roulette

Photo nicked from here

Even though Tim's off getting set to wed, he's made sure that we've been taken care of this week. You see, he's prepared the next two Contrast Podcasts in advance so we would not go without. Hooray for Tim! Hooray for forward planning! Hooray for automation.

And this week, hooray for Crash, who enjoys pretending life is like a song! For this week's episode is his idea: DJ Russian Roulette. The idea is this: you're a DJ, there's a loaded gun pointing at your head, and it will go off unless the next song you play gets everybody up dancing. Gulp...

So, come hear what this week's contributors have chosen to save their sallow, computer-screen-irradiated skins. As usual, you can download the carnage here or else subscribe using this RSS feed: http://feeds.feedburner.com/ContrastPodcast

(00:00) Talking Heads - And she was
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(04:53) Julian Cope - World shut your mouth
Chris from Phosphorous.net

(08:52) Party Ben - Chic franzie boys
FiL from Pogoagogo

(15:32) The Meters - Just kissed my baby
Ally from dustysevens

(20:01) Mode Selektor - Weed wid da macka
Mark from Cinema du Lyon

(24:39) They Might be Giants - Istanbul
Rick from Are you embarrassed easily?

(28:01) Jean Knight - Mr big stuff
Tim from The face of today

(30:45) Daft Punk - Digital love
Alex from Totally true tales from Texas

(36:09) The Rakes - We danced together
Andy from Circles of concrete

(40:06) The Faint - Take me to the hospital
James from Jamesisadork

(44:33) The B52’s - Rock Lobster
Natalie from Mini-obs

(51:33) The Happy Mondays - 24 hour party people
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(56:23) Ben Westbeech - Hang around
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

Having done some DJing in past lives, let me tell ya it's hard to get everyone up on the floor. Either the indie kids are pouting or else the fiftysomething dweeb is asking for Neil Diamond or frat boys are demanding Blink 182 or the skinheads are screaming at you for more ska (the last of these scenarios did actually happen to me once, and it wasn't pretty). So apart from my contribution, chosen with tongue half-planted in cheek, here's what else I was considering:

Pixies - Debaser (buy here or e-here)
Simply coz it gets me dancing like un chien andalusia every singly flaming time.

The Donnas - Dancing With Myself (buy here)
The Billy Idol original is a credible floor filler, and it was also the first 7-inch single I ever bought. However, methinks I prefer The Donnas' tight, punchy cover - it rocks!!

Verka Serduchka - Dancing Lasha Tumbai (buy here)
Guilty secret: Eurovision puts the boogie in my butt. And though I posted this back in May, here it is again - a best-of-breed slice of Eurotrashcheese from the lovely Verka that should have won this year.

Lords of the New Church - Like a Virgin (buy here)
This CD arrived in the post only yesterday, otherwise this would have been my submission. Madonna covered by punk-goth-glam supagroup Lords of the New Church, bound to please all the punters. And to round it all off, I was delighted to rediscover the following, entirely a propos, track nestling on the same disc:

Lords of the New Church - Russian Roulette (buy here)

Next week we'll get to hear songs picked by our significant others. Not quite sure what to expect there...

What I Have In Common With Audrey Hepburn

"I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it."
Audrey Hepburn

Alas, it seems that the enemy of affection is the schedule, the chore, the job, the duty. Le sigh.

Do feel free to set a spell. I'm here...

Comsat Angels - Will You Stay Tonight? (out of print, but you can find the vinyl on eBay)

Eating Out

Photo courtesy of this man

I fully intend to wax excited about more of my Folk Fest discoveries, but today is Tuesday. And that means it's Contrast Podcast day! To celebrate the sixty-ninth episode, SAS Radio served up a theme that's laden with double entendres: Dinner for Two. I think this is a meal that's best not shared with the kiddies. But if you do care to dine with us, help yourself to the buffet over here, or else place your order via the helpful RSS feed: http://feeds.feedburner.com/ContrastPodcast.

Bon appetit!

(00:53) Gary Duncan - The cunnilingus song
SAS Radio
(04:56) Goldie Lookin’ Chain - You knows I love you
Dweller from Child without an iPod
(10:05) Belle & Sebastian - Dirty dream no.2
Jim from Quick before it melts
(14:40) Eve Boswell - Pickin’ a chicken
Mark from Cinema du Lyon
(17:14) Caia - Afterwards @ the bar
Marcy from Lost in your inbox
(21:52) Dogs Die in Hot Cars - Eat me, don’t eat me
Linda from Speed of dark
(24:30) The Beatles - Please please me
Crash from Pretending life is like a song
(26:45) The Bloodhound Gang - Foxtrot uniform charlie kilo
James from Jamesisadork
(30:11) James Hunter - People gonna talk
Ross from Just gimme indie rock
(33:41) Tim Young - Amour for sure
Tim from The face of today
(36:38) Ben Webster - You’re mine you
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away
(40:12) Thee Headcoatees - Fish pie
FiL from Pogoagogo
(44:20) The Jam - Going underground
Greg from Broken Dial
(47:49) Aimee Mann - Driving with one hand on the wheel
Tom from Better in the dark
(51:20) BOB - Convenience
Ally from dustysevens
(55:21) Rufus Wainwright - Dinner for eight
Hiram from The Harvey Girls
(01:00:18) Tom Waits - Goin’ down slow
Steve from Domino Rally
(01:03:30) Unrest - Food & drink synthesizer
Conrad from 4AD 4EVR

As usual, I had trouble choosing from the menu. So here are the other dishes that I considered serving up this week:

Kiss - Room Service (buy here)
Baby, I could use a meal!

The King Khan & BBQ Show - What's For Dinner? (buy here or e-here)
Why, BBQ, of course...

Consolidated - The Sexual Politics of Meat (buy here)
Meat is murder? If only it were so simple; meat is the expression of patriarchal oppression, therefore each carnivorous act is at best an acquiescence to, and at worst a conscious reaffirmation of the dominant masculine societal hegemony. Cor, I could really go for a grilled sausage right now. Oh, bugger, that's torn it...

As Tim will be away, the next couple of Contrast Podcast episodes have already been crafted. Next week, come listen to a game of DJ Russian Roulette...

Old Folks, New Folks, Young Folks

Old Man Luedecke pickin' it in a new old skool stylee...

My Dear Friends, I finally have a chance to breathe. The work week has been worked out, the sproglets are tucked up in their respective beds, the dogs (Dearest Father-in-Law's pooch is visiting) are snoring lustily, the washing-up is washed up, and Dearest Wife is out with her father at a Michelle Shocked gig. So here I am, a virtual mug of Horlicks in hand, ready to sit a spell and chat.

Well, where to start? How about the Vancouver Folk Music Festival? Well, goodness me, it was an absolute hoot. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment. Though this is my third year attending the fest, it was the first time I had volunteered, and I really found it far more enjoyable than simply forking over my dosh to see the shows. Now, you must understand that the weekend is a thoroughly civilized affair. First, it's attended mostly by Canadians, who by and large are an affable bunch. Second, pretty much anyone who chooses to stimulate themselves artificially (though note that intoxicants are officially not permitted) does so with weed, not booze, and we all know that stoners are far more pleasant to deal with than drunks. Third, you don't get screaming moshpits, but fields of folk doing whizzy, woozy hippie dancing. So my safety gig was quite a doddle, with my most harrowing moment was a mild harangue from an aged ex-flower child trying to get in for free, cuz that's what the spirit of folk is all about, maaan. But a swift Tazer shot soon put paid to his mewling (JOKE! JOKE!).

The real perk of volunteering is feeling that you're part of the very fabric of the festival, that you're helping it to happen rather than just attending it. The volunteers I met were all wonderful, and I had good natters with a whole range of lovely people. In addition, volunteers and performers shared the backstage area and dined in common, so there was ample opportunity to meet and talk. I shared popcorn with folk music's Grand Old Man, Utah Phillips. I spoke briefly with legendary producer Adrian Sherwood about turning on folkies to dub. I chatted with the eclectically enigmatic Hawksley Workman about Bauhaus, and almost got him to perform a cover of "She's In Parties." I had a lovely, semi-inebriated, but heartfelt conversation at the festival afterparty with Old Man Luedecke about heroes, authentic lives and leaps of faith. And more, much more.

And of course there was the music. Remember I said that what I was most looking forward to was being surprised by stuff I'd never otherwise have considered listening to? Well, that's exactly what happened. Hawksley I was keen to see and he didn't disappoint. Sherwood pumped out some heavy, heavy monster sounds that took some time to sink in, but when they did they prompted some well freaky dancing. And Ndidi mined the bluesy, soulful depths I thought she would. But the real delights were those unknown to me. I was transported by the aching, gritty, alt.country of Rodney DeCroo and Rae Spoon. I was utterly blown away by the unpigeonholeable, urgent indie/folkie/jazzy poetry of local wunderkinder The Fugitives. The bold, brassy braveness of Bitch & The Exciting Conclusions made me come over all celebratory & righteous. And the complex virtuosity of the West African griot powerhouse that is Toumani Diabate's Symmetric Orchestra was simply stunning.

Whew. And that was just some of it.

I promise, Dearest Friends, to bring you more from some of the aforementioned good folks in posts to come. But now let me introduce you more formally to Canada's own Old Man Luedecke. At 31 years of age, Old Man (a/k/a Chris) isn't really old, but part of him seems to hail from another era. A time when people told each other their stories, when they sang each other songs crafted from their experiences and varnished them with what came straight out of their hearts. And when cool referred only to temperature. For you see, he plays the banjo. Yes, that's right, the banjo. Probably no other instrument apart from the accordion gets so little respect. And I'll admit it, heretofore I myself accorded it precious little of that commodity. But when I heard Chris pick away at that thing and sing with an honesty and perception that shimmered like a deep forest lake on a sunny day, I was transfixed. So please, listen to this tune, which plugged particularly deeply into my own soul:

Old Man Luedecke - I Quit My Job (you must buy his latest CD here or directly from the label here)

And a brief footnote: speaking of old, the theme for this week's Contrast Podcast was simply "Young." I'll confess to not having downloaded it yet, but it looks like a rager. You can have a listen right here, then you can think about what you might contribute over the weekend for next week's Dinner for Two. And I was most surprised to see that Crash hadn't picked The Jam's "When You're Young." So here it is:

The Jam - When You're Young (buy here)

And another footnote; Dearest Wife just got back from Michelle Shocked and reports that it was a wonderful show. Just her, a guitar, and a mike in the converted church that is the Vancouver East Cultural Centre. She apparently played for nearly two hours solid and was by turns witty, engaging, soulful, and powerful. At one point Michelle even borrowed an audience member with cellphone got her to ring a certain John, the new man in her life, so he could hear her sing a new lovey-dovey song she had written just for him. Awww, schweeet. So, you want some Michelle Shocked? OK, here you go, here's the song with which she kicked off:

Michelle Shocked - When I Grow Up (buy here)

Well, that's about all from me for now. Old Man FiL has finished his virtual Horlicks and needs to get to a real bed. Nighty-night...

Forward the Revolution!!

OK, maybe I'm being a tad melodramatic. I mean, it isn't an event on par with the Bolsheviks seizing control of Petrograd's Winter Palace in October 1917. It pales in insignificance next to King Camp Gillette's introduction of the safety razor. But it's an important day for me nonetheless. You see, I finally got myself my own host. At first I'll only be using it to store my mp3 posts, but I'm sure sooner or later I'll move the whole damn pogo a go-go over.

I feel so grown-up.

And so to my first properly hosted file, which is one I buggered up before and promised to repost. Dearest Friends, I give you the old Clash standard, "Garageland," performed live in 1986 by Billy Bragg, Attilla the Stockbroker, the mighty Wiggy, and the Neurotics onstage in East Berlin. Ripped it myself I did, from old skool, working class vinyl...

Billy Bragg et al - Garageland (buy the CD rerelease of "Wake UP!" right here)

And since y'all liked the videos so much, here's an odd one for you: Billy Bragg backing an Echo & The Bunnymen cover of The Velvet Underground's "Run, Run, Run." On The Old Grey Whistle Test, natch!

Something Squiffy

Dearest Friends, there's something squiffy going on with Fileden, my file hosting provider. Since about a month the bandwidth use has shot up astronomically out of proportion to my site traffic. For instance, today I have had 90 visitors so far but Fileden tells me I had over 1.5 gigabytes of downloads. That makes no sense. I know other Fileden bloggers have had similar issues and Filden itself seems to be unwilling to help get to the bottom of this matter.

The net result is that I'm over my bandwidth quota for the month with two weeks to go. I will start shifting files to a dedicated host over the next few days, but until then, have a shifty at these and let your heart smile:

FiL & The Folk

I really meant to post a lot more over the past fortnight. You see, I've got stories waiting to be told. But alas, all that was pushed aside by more worldly demands. Sigh...

I shan't be able to catch up this weekend either, for I'm volunteering at the 30th Vancouver Folk Music Festival. You may recall me waxing lyrical about last year's edition here and here. You see, folk is not really my preferred musical genre; though I do enjoy significant chunks of the oeuvre, I'm not really a tie-dye-and -birkenstocks kinda guy, as my immediately preceding post makes clear. But what I find most appealing about The Festival is that it takes a very broad view of what constitutes "folk music." Indeed, Dearest Wife and I recently had a lively academic debate as to what exactly the term encompasses. I argued that a lot of punk music could be considered folk, while she maintained I was full of crap.

Anyway, my point is that although I'm no folkie, there are always a few artists performing who I'm keen to see, plus I always find myself positively surprised by someone who I otherwise never would have considered paying attention to. Last year I was especially keen to see ex-Slit (and John Lydon's stepdaughter) Ari Up (who cancelled at the last minute, unfortunately) and Feist, but was blown away by Ndidi Onukwulu and Mihirangi. This year Ndidi and Mihirangi are back, and I'm also keen to see On-U Sound dub guru and Tackhead Adrian Sherwood. But what I'm most looking forward to is once again being blindsided by the unexpected!! If you are in the Vancouver area, I'd urge you to come along - you will not regret it! Find out all you need to know right here.

Volunteering is a good gig; I'm on Safety (read: a kind, gentle, smiling version of Security) duty for twelve hours over the three night/three day fest, and I get free admission plus grub. I should add the setting is also fantastic: Jericho Beach Park, right on the water. In fact, yesterday evening after work I was kayaking off that beach as the final touches were being put on the set up. As the sun set over the distant mountains of Vancouver Island, the main stage sound system pumped out Michael Franti and Spearhead over the gently swelling water. I mean, it doesn't really get any better than that...

Hae a lovely weekend, Dearest Friends, and I'll see you all next week, with more stories to tell and hopefully more time to tell them.

Michael Franti and Spearhead - People In Tha Middle (buy here)

Never Trust A Hippy

Artwork by Stephen Youll

Like, faaaaar out, maaaaaaannnn....

Sorry, couldn't resist. The latest Contrast Podcast is out, and since this week marks the 67th episode, Dearest TiM has decided to take us back to the year 1967. Yep, back when it was all long hair, kaftans, free love, patchouli, psychedelia, be-ins, and all that hippy-dippy stuff.

Actually, the contributions this week are very balanced, with only a smattering of hippydom. Yay! That said, when I think 1967 I think flower power & all that, so I'm going to continue in this vein. At any rate, Dearest Friends, tune in, and drop out all at the same time either by downloading the cast here. After listening don't forget to comment here! You can also spiritually meld with the podcast through this magical, mystery RSS feed: http://feeds.feedburner.com/ContrastPodcast.

(00:29) Jefferson Airplane - Somebody to love
Ross from Just gimme indie rock
(03:33) Erma Franklin - Piece of my heart
Michael from The Yank Sizzler
(07:00) Dusty Springfield - The look of love
Linda from Speed of Dark
(11:18) The Turtles - Happy together
Natalie from Mini-Obs
(14:51) The Impressions - We’re a winner
Ally from dustysevens
(17:12) Kaleidoscope - Dive into yesterday
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away
(22:43) Louie Prima - I wanna be like you
Crash from Pretending life is like a song
(27:34) The Stooges - Search and Destroy
FiL from Pogoagogo
(34:03) Green Day - 86
Andy from Circles of Concrete
(37:13) Dave Brubeck Quartet - Take 5
Marcy from Lost in your inbox
(43:07) John Coltrane - Everytime we say goodbye
Alex from Totally True Tales from Texas
(48:39) R.E.M. - Femme fatale
Kristi from Are you embarassed easily?
(51:47) The House of Love - The Beatles and The Stones
Tom from Better in the Dark
(56:20) Prince - Alphabet street
Greg from Broken Dial
(59:06) The Adult Net - Incense and Peppermints
SAS Radio
(01:02:15) Chris Coco with Nick Cave - Sunday Morning
Matthew from Song by Toad (YAY! Toad's debut! YAY!)

So, why my distaste for hippiedom? Not sure... Perhaps it's because when I was a wee lad it was all I heard on the radio (that plus 1970s soft rock), and it said nothing to me about my life. On top of that, I cringe when I hear people say the sixties (read: mid-late sixties) were all that ever mattered musically. Why, only last week I had a tedious conversation with a rather pompous fiftysomething who crapped on about how nothing musically worthwhile came after Cream, The Beatles, The Doors, Pink Floyd and all their ilk. I begged to differ. I mean, shite attitudes like that are what prompted the Punk Wars of the mid-late 1970s.

But I digress, and over-simplify; after all, Nancy Sinatra released the sublime Sugar Town that year and my personal construct of a hippy hegemony fall to pieces in the face of "I'm a Believer" by The Monkees. 1967 was actually an interesting year, for it saw the swelling of a reaction against all that psychedelia, folk-rock, and happy poprock; The Velvet Underground, Electric Prunes, and, yes, The Psychedelic Stooges (as they were known then), who played their first concert on Halloween, 1967. So that's the story behind my choice, even though the song itself was released six years later. Don't blame me, blame the drugs...

But I did consider a couple of other songs, which I will share with you:

The Second Helping - Let Me In (buy e-here)
Even before 1967 a guerrilla war was being waged by an army of garage and surf bands. One such outfit was The Second Helping, which, amazingly, was fronted by Kenny Loggins. Yes, he who later defected to the dark side and pumped out soft dreck in the 1970s before penning the atrocious theme to the 1984 film Footloose.

The Polyphonic Spree - Light & Day/Reach For The Sun (buy here)
Why? Cos they're neo-hippies. But I really, really like them. They make me happy, though I can't explain why.

Ten Pole Tudor - Who Killed Bambi? (buy here)
Cos it's got the lyric "never trust a hippy." Ripped from my vinyl copy of The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle.

Next week Tim asks us to think "Young." To find out how, look here.