I Envy, You're Jealous

Green-eyed monstah courtesy of Janice

This week Contrast Podcast goes green, and I don't mean tree-huggy and eco-friendly (though I'm sure our carbon emissions are refreshingly low). No, we're talking about reveling in yet another deadly sin, that of envy. Download the podcast here, listen to what our contributors covet, then tell everyone how envious you are over here. And let me also take this opportunity to say how thrilled I am that Dearest Brad, my ex-roomie and great friend, is making his third appearance on the podcast! Yay!!

(00:00) Intro from Mr G. Letch & Mr A. Thrub

(02:55) Damgok - Penis envy
Tim from The face of today

(05:41) The Dead Milkmen - Everybody’s got nice stuff
SiD from Too Much Rock

(08:58) Reel Big Fish - I want your girlfriend to be my girlfriend
Natalie from Mini-obs

(12:56) Joe Jackson - Is she really going out with him (live acapella)
Brad from Brad’s Blog

(17:33) Pulp - I want you
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(22:41) Jonathan Richman - No mas por fun
JC from The Vinyl Villain

(25:07) Cat Power - She’s got you
Linda from Speed of dark

(29:18) The Jam - David Watts
FiL from Pogoagogo

(32:20) Envy and Other Sins - Prodigal Son
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(37:03) Barenaked Ladies - Just a toy (live)
James from Appetite For Distraction

(40:48) The Hellcows - Jealousy
Eiron from A Blog of No Importance

(42:49) Bettye Lavette - I do not want what I haven’t got
Anna from the Music I-Quiz

(45:47) Ash - Envy
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(49:39) Elliot Smith - Jealous guy (live)
Dirk from Sacred Loser

At first I considered going with a track about jealousy, but then the pedantic old sod in me emerged from the fusty recesses of my brain and reminded me that jealousy and envy are not one and the same. Technically speaking , envy refers to the discomfort caused by fixating on and/or coveting something that someone else has, while jealousy refers to the feeling generated by a perceived threat to something or someone with which one has a relationship. So, for example, I'm envious of you when I realize that you're shacking up with PJ Harvey. You, on the other hand, are jealous when I begin flirting with her and she returns my attentions. Oh, just face it, you're not good enough for her! She really wants to be with ME so just fuck off and leave us to --

Er, ahem. Sorry, got carried away... Anyway, here are the two jealous tracks I was weighing up before David Watts came to me in a revelatory flash:

The Rapture - House of Jealous Lovers (buy here)
I'm telling you, Peej is MINE MINE MINE!! She and I will dance like mad fools to this Noo Yawk No Wave masterpiece. As an aside, I saw The Rapture live twice and both times they were absolutely superlative. Once was on an NME bill along with The Von Bondies and Franz Ferdinand (and headliners Funeral for a Friend, who were so middling I left halfway through). The second time was supporting The Sex Pistols at Crystal Palace. Also on that bill were The Dropkick Murphys, The Libertines ("Pete Doherty Shows Up For Gig Shocker!!"), and And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead (who I'm offering up as a free suggestion for next week's CP episode of "Bands With Ridiculous Names"). That was quite a long aside, wasn't it? And those italics can be hard on the eyes. So, where was I? Oh, PJ Harvey! MINE!!

Black Flag - Jealous Again (buy here or e-here)
Angry young man in seminal angry SoCal hardcore band singing an angry song about an angry girlfriend. There's a soap operatic story behind the recording of this choon, which you can read here. This version has vocal duties performed by Ron Reyes a/k/a Chavo Pederast, who is apparently now a born-again Christian living in my fair city of Vancouver. Ye gods!

You know, Dearest PJ isn't the jealous type. So say if I wanted to take up with Siouxsie Sioux, or a thirtysomething, not dead Audrey Hepburn, I'm sure she'd be cool with that. Don't believe me? Well, listen here:

PJ Harvey - Oh My Lover (buy here )

Tales From The Double Down, Part Two

Door to the Double Down men's loo, snapped by caseyville

Saturday in Vegas, my third day in that city. Already I'd grown weary of the glitz, the relentlessness, the Ersatz. Earlier in the day Dearest T had left on a jet plane back to the shores of Blighty, leaving me alone in this strange town.

What to do? Why, head on back to the Double Down. Duh.

Truth be told, I was a bit hesitant going on my own. Not because I'm shy, but because I worried (once again) about being the sad, old man at the bar. But what swung it for me was the promise of four bands playing live. Indeed, the Double Down routinely hosts gigs, mostly of the punk, garage, and raucous roll persuasion. There's no cover charge, the bands don't get paid much more than a pittance and some booze, and yet the roster is always full. Why? Cos the Double Down is awesome, that's why.

When I arrived, the place was hopping, again with the most marvelously eclectic mix of punx, tattoed love boyz 'n' girlz, college kids, and regular Joes & Janes. And I needn't have worried about being the solitary gooseberry; folks actually came up and TALKED to me! I had a most engaging conversation with Howie, an Elvis lookalike van driver from, of all places, Vancouver. Amongst other things, we discussed his penchant for corpulent women. And he bought me beers. I also chatted to a hipster dude in town for his stag do, who suggested that when discussing my profession I should refer to it as "BANG-KING" (equal stress on each syllable) so as to convey the idea that it's something vaguely edgy, perhaps even pornographic. A bit later I ended up refereeing a beer shotgunning competition. Dang, this really IS the "Happiest Place On Earth."

And then there was the music. What fun!

Shaun Kama took to the stage (such as it is at the DD) with his Kings of the Wild Frontier, looking like the bastard offspring of Nick Cave and Johnny Cash, all wiry frame, tattoos, careworn face, tight black jeans, and slicked-back hair. And together they belted out some righteous music. Though Kama's pedigree is steeped in punk and metal, the tunes were squarely based in the American West; twangy, country rawk underpinned by crackling energy. The songs spoke of roads traveled, dice rolled, cold hearts, phantoms, death, loneliness. It was all sincere, tight, and most excellent.

Shaun Kama & The Kings Of The Wild Frontier - This One Ends In A Murder (buy here)

Next up were LA's The Cheatin' Kind, and boy did they stir the pot! More country & western, this time served up sassy, trashy, and thrashy with liberal splashes of both honky and tonk. Brassy blonde frontwoman Babs McDonald's vibrant twang was amply backed up by the plucky pickin' of marvelous Miss Melanie Makaiwi on bass, and the gentlemanly duo of Chel T. Rich on skins and Paul Morris on gee-tar. The set was a stompin' romp through covers ("Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad," "Took A Lot Of Pills & Died") and originals, including their affectionate ode to the very bar we all found ourselves in that night.

The Cheatin' Kind - Double Down (Most kindly sent by Miss Melanie. It's not on their 2006 album Turned On Too Long, but you can and should buy that over here)

SoCal punks The Cosmic Creeps fired off some groovy ghoulishness a la Misfits, but to be honest your FiL was still in too much of a Western yee-haa frame of mind to truly appreciate what they had to offer. On top of that, he was hanging out with Howie by the men's room (see photo above) having his umpteenth Red Stripe. So once the Creeps finished sometime after 2AM, FiL called it a night, foregoing the charms of local hardcore outfit The Latchkey Kidz. But thanks to the magic of YouTube, I was able to see some what I missed. You can too!

And so once again I hit the bed in my hotel room, head all a-buzz, thinking about how to get back to the Double Down at least one more time during my stay in Vegas. I had become convinced it was the only way I was going to survive another four days in that town...

P.S. Miss Melanie did a stint with the brilliant Scarling, who recorded an awesome cover of the only Radiohead song I really like, Creep. I've been waiting for an excuse to post it, so now that I have one, here you go:

Scarling - Creep (buy here or e-here)

Have A Heart

Dearest Friends, rush on over right now to The Vinyl Villain. What? You're still here?? You need convincing?? Sigh...

Dearest JC has hatched a brilliant idea to raise money for Quarriers, a Scottish charity that supports children and families facing physical, emotional, and mental issues. Why the campaign? Well, his godson, Kevin, has benefited tremendously from the Quarriers' good work. See the video above.

You're still here? You want to know what's in it for you?? Sigh, OK. Dearest JC has promised that for every pledge of £6 he'll provide the donor with a customized 60-minute CD culled from his extensive collection of Orange Juice rarities. Just take your pick from the listing on his blog. He takes PayPal, so international borders and currency exchange is no problem. Whether you're in Afghanistan or Zimbabwe, you can contribute.

If you're still here, I worry that you may have no heart. Unlike Dearest JC...

The Jam - Solid Bond In Your Heart (buy here)
No, you ain't getting any Orange Juice from me, go pay JC yer £6 for that. But I will give you this delicious early version of Solid Bond, recorded before Weller The Jam split and formed The Style Council.

A Deep Fear Indeed

Scaaary picture courtesy of the very brave G-Na

"You asked me once," said O'Brien, "what was in Room 101. I told you that you knew the answer already. Everyone knows it. The thing that is in Room 101 is the worst thing in the world." -- George Orwell, 1984

Dearest Friends, this week the contributors to Contrast Podcast's episode 101 open up their psyches to reveal to all listeners that which they fear most. And the result is a list of terrors that would chill anyone to the bone, inter alia death, falling, sensory deprivation, and anthropophagic sea creatures with big teeth. Share the scare by downloading the podcast here.

(00:00) Corinne Bailey Rae - Steady as she goes
Tim from The face of today

(03:17) Maria Taylor - Xanax
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(08:59) R.E.M. - Walk unafraid
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(13:56) Tindersticks - Milky teeth
JC from The Vinyl Villain

(17:31) Morphine - Sharks
Anna from the Music I-Quiz

(20:10) Fear - Now you’re dead
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(22:32) The Jam - Down in the tube station at midnight
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(26:28) Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris - Falling down
Linda from Speed of dark

(30:03) Peter Gabriel - I don’t remember
Mark from Cinema Du Lyon

(34:07) The Cocteau Twins - Blind dumb deaf (peel session 1983)
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(38:48) The Sharks - Short sharp shark
FiL from Pogoagogo

(41:46) Nerf Herder - 5000 ways to die
Thom from Better in the dark

(44:55) Great Lakes Myth Society - Across the bridge
Natalie from Mini-obs

(50:00) Air (feat. Neil Hannon) - Somewhere between waking and sleeping
Eiron from A Blog of No Importance

(55:08) John Mayer - Stop this train
James from Appetite For Distraction

I'm a fretful, but not generally a fearful person. But I do have an irrational fear of sharks. More specifically, I don't like being immersed in an opaque, natural body of water. You see, I instantly begin imagining malevolent, fishy, toothy things swimming up from the dark depths to pluck my legs off like bananas. Curiously, clear, tropical waters (where I would probably be more likely to encounter a FiLeater) are OK. And I don't mind (in fact I thoroughly enjoy) being on dark waters in craft, from huge ferries to weenie kayaks. However, put me in the water and I have to focus on fighting the panic.

You can therefore imagine my unease when last summer I took a kayaking course that involved me regularly flipping my craft over in the murky waters off Vancouver to practice self-rescue. Truth be told, I got a lot more comfortable doing that over time. Rather, I managed to develop a wee rationalizing mental mantra which included the fact that there have only ever been two recorded shark attacks in Canada, and the one near Vancouver in 1972 involved a rather unimpressive spiny dogfish. All that said, I still need to actively manage the fear...

Dearest Anna from the Music I-Quiz appears to share my selachophobia (as the boffins call it), though since she lives in Australia I reckon she's probably more justified in having it than I am (Australia = great whites, Vancouver = spiny dogfish). She also has lovely taste in music, as she picked the tune I had originally wanted to submit. But here's the alternative version I had originally hoped to submit:

Morphine - Sharks Patrol These Waters (off of this)

Sharks definitely top my fear parade, though in the physical world scorpions come a close second, especially those big, black emperor scorpions. Yeuuchhh! But I was hardly going to go with that idea, since I'd have to post a track from a dreadful German soft metal band. In the realm of the less tangible, my top fear would probably be finding myself alone. That would destroy me.

Calexico - Alone Again Or (buy here or e-here)

Next week we return to the land of sin, and explore envy. Find out how you can take part over here.

Tales from the Double Down, Part One

The view from the bar, courtesy of beatnikside

Our first night in Vegas did not begin auspiciously. Dearest T started off the evening with some unimpressive martinis at one of he countless bars in the vast, glitzy bowels of Caesar's Palace. The barman, a smarmy cornfed boy with a monosyllabic name like Chip or Brett, had served them up with a nudge-nudge, wink-wink request to let him know if there was anything --ANYTHING-- else at all he could get for us. We didn't take him up on his offer, and instead migrated to Venice's St Mark's Square (or a fanciful facsimile thereof) for dinner. A post-prandial perambulation took us to some other bar in some other hotel, where we had more dreadful martinis.

By this stage we were cranky drunk, and sometime around 10PM Dearest T mooted the idea of retiring for the night. But damned if I was going to go out like that. For you see, I had a plan:

I wanted to go to the Double Down Saloon.

Dearest T took some convincing, but I cajoled, wheedled, and assured him that it was just a short walk off The Strip. He relented, then assented, and we set out.

A ninety-minute walk through Vegas's ripped backside and several blisters later (I had slightly miscalculated distance, direction, and location), we arrived. The Double Down is an unpreposessing one-story, white box of a building tacked onto a small, low-end strip mall. A shingled awning above the sngle-door entrance proclaims it "The Happiest Place on Earth." The grizzled bear of a bouncer (think Hulk Hogan) politely carded us as we entered. Unfortunately Dearest T had forgotten to bring any ID, but he agreed to the doorman's proposition that if the police busted he place, he'd be escorted by them back to the hotel to verify his age. All very pragmatic and amiable. We entered, slid up to the bar, ordered some beers, and looked around.

I liked what I saw, and loved what I heard.

Psychotically psychedelic and primitive murals featuring skeletons and wild women stared for ceiling and walls. A small, rough stage was stuffed into one corner, along with a couple of well-chewed sofas. In another corner some dykes were playing pool on a battered table. A tin plaque advised a capacity of 157. Two TV monitors played loops of vintage sleazoid horror films, seventies music videos, and clips of Japanese porn. A plastic bottle labeled "Hippy Spray" sat on top of a cooler. Hand-lettered signs hung around the bar: "$5 Bacon Martini," "Graveyard Shift Special 4AM-10AM, $4 Schlitz & Ass Juice," "You Puke, You Clean." And the jukebox --oh, the jukebox!-- belted out a divinely righteous stream of garage, proto-punk, hardcore, and, er, Frank Sinatra.

We chatted aimiably with a voluptuous, slightly pixilated sweetie named Fiona, who, having made an understandable yet erroneous assumption, asked Dearest T and I if we'd prefer to go to a gay bar. We declined the kind suggeston. The room was slowly but steadily filling up with a heady mix of tattoed punks, scruffy college kids, latino greasers, and Betty Page lookalikes.

Then it was time for the evening's featured entertainment: Szandora, the Hula Hoop Chick.

Sigh.

Magenta, pixie-cut hair. Curves like the Indianapolis 500. Skin of alabster.

Sigh.

Dearest T's tongue hung out all the way to the floor as she mounted the pool table and gyrated languidly, hoop spinning casually around her hips as the primal thudding of the Slits' "Heard it Through The Grapevine" pounded from the jukebox. "Such control!" he marvelled, as his eyes popped out on stalks. Then off came her bikini top, and T's tongue plus eyes emerged further. I was not immune to Szandora's multiple charms, but it was the soundtrack that blew me away; the Slits had now given way to the Dead Kennedys' "Police Truck." Absofuckingloutely marvellous.

I don't rightly know what time it was that we left, nor do I recall what time it was when we regained our hotel room. All I remember while lying on my spinning bed, listening to Dearest T puking up martini & beer in the bathroom, was thinking that at the Double Down I had found a slice of heaven amidst the hell of Vegas, and that I had almost a full week to get there again...

The Slits - Heard It On The Grapevine (buy here or e-here)
Dead Kennedys - Police Truck (buy here or e-here)

The 100 Club

Yes, it's official: Contrast Podcast has joined the 100 Club. Today Dearest Tim posted the hundredth episode and it's chock-full of songs celebrating the century. So come along and have a listen here to what HRH The Queen (it's true!) is getting so excited about!

(00:00) Sharon Jones - 100 days, 100 nights
Betty from The Royal Family

(04:34) Fun 100 - Computer
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(07:21) Love of Diagrams - At 100%
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(11:32) The Soundtrack of our lives - 21st century ripoff
Chris from Phosphorous.net

(15:35) Maxi Priest - Full 100
Mark from Cinema Du Lyon

(21:06) The Byrds - One hundred years from now
Brian from State Fare

(23:56) NOFX - 100 times fuckeder
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(25:59) Lyres - 100cc’s (Pure Thrust)
FiL from Pogoagogo

(29:11) Generation X - One hundred punks
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(33:03) Carlton Rees - 99 and a half won’t do
Matthew from Song by Toad

(36:35) Nick Lowe - One’s too many and a hundred ain’t enough
Anna from the Music I-Quiz

(39:30) The Anniversary - A hundred ships
SiD from Too Much Rock

(45:23) Shout out louds - 100 degrees
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(49:26) The Cure - One hundred years
Eiron from A Blog of No Importance

(56:25) The Divine Comedy - I’ve been to a marvellous party
JC from The Vinyl Villain

(01:01:00) The Offspring - One hundred punks
Andy from Circles of Concrete

(01:04:33) The Tragically Hip - At the hundredth meridian
Thom from Better in the dark

(01:08:17) The Pixies - Oh my golly
John from And you’ll never hear surf music again

(01:10:30) The Loved Ones - 100K
James from Appetite For Distraction

(01:13:51) Roy Harper - When an old cricketer leaves the crease
Stuart Dade

I was most surprised to see that no-one submitted those Wunderkinder of the 80s, Haircut 100. No, really, admit it, you're shocked as well. So here they are - hey, camisas! Indeed...

Haircut 100 - Favourite Shirt (Boy Meets Girl) (buy here)

I briefly considered submitting Sonic Youth's 100%, but decided that all that hipster talk about sticking knives in heads wasn't in keeping with the celebratory spirit of things. Have a listen, you'll hear wot I mean...

Sonic Youth - 100% (buy here)

OK, OK, here's where I come clean. The glib reference to the 100 Club above has given me the thinnest of excuses to post a clutch of the best punk songs evah! Why? Well, the 100 Club Punk Festival, that's why. Yes, I'm talking about those seminal (now legendary and mythical) two days in September 1976 where that London jazz club saw eight bands bring the white light/white heat of early punk out from the underground. Far more people claim to have attended than ever possibly could have. I certainly didn't and don't know anyone who did. But oh, in the words of Cher, if I could turn back time...

Sex Pistols - Nookie (buy here)
Vibrators - Pogo Dancing (try eBay)
Damned - Neat Neat Neat (buy here)
Siouxsie & The Banshees - Mittageisen (Metal Postcard) (buy here)
Subway Sect - Nobody's Scared (buy here)
The Clash - White Riot (buy here)
Buzzcocks - Boredom (buy here)

Oh, that's only seven bands? Er, heh heh, um, you'll let me get away without playing any Stinky Toys, won't you?? Here, have a look at The Clash. That'll take your mind off things...



Yes, I digressed, but you'll thank me for it later. Next week, CP gets all Orwellian on your ass and asks you for episode 101 to face your greatest fear. Find out how over here.

Waiting For The Plague To Move On

It's all disease and pestilence round our way, and has been to one degree or another for the past month. It's been coming in relentless waves of increasing intensity, and the body count as of today stands as follows:

• FiL pasted to the sofa for the past two days with a rotten, feverish head cold
• Dearest Wife nursing a fortnight-old, low-grade, energy-sapping bug of some sort
• Darling Daughter in bed for several days with a fever, congestion, and a raw throat
• Little Man confined to bed this evening after having thrown up spectacularly not once, but thrice

This too shall pass - sooner rather than later, please...

Les Savy Fav - Raging in the Plague Age (buy here or e-here)
Mudhoney - Here Comes Sickness (buy here)
Depeche Mode - Shake the Disease (buy here)
Taxi Taxi - Family Doctor (buy e-here)

P.S. Tales from the Double Down to come, health permitting...

Hope

Your mornings will be brighter
Break the line
Tear up rules
Make the most of a million times no

For Dearest Nico.

Bauhaus - Hope (buy here)

Make Mine A 99

Through the eyes of lazigaze

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream. Well then, it's a bloody good thing that the Contrast Podcast is overflowing with the stuff this week. Yes, Dearest Tim a.k.a. Mister Whippy has fired up the van and this week's Dearest Contributors have provided a delicious variety of musical flavours for your tasting. Go on, try the lot over here, and let everyone know what your favourite is over here.

The menu:

(00:00) John Brim - Ice cream man
Tim from The face of today

(03:16) Tom Waits - Ice cream man
Eiron from A Blog of No Importance

(06:45) Thao Nguyen - Bag of hammers
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(09:39) Michael Hearst - Where do ice cream trucks go in winter?
Linda from Speed of dark

(13:51) The Undertones - Here comes the summer
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(17:28) Sister Vanilla - Down
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(21:18) Dinosaur Jr - Feel the pain
JC from The Vinyl Villain

(26:26) Lee Konitz - Ice cream Konitz
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(29:23) The Dropkick Murphys - The rocky road to Dublin
James from Appetite For Distraction and
Andy from Circles of Concrete

(32:40) The KLF (featuring Tammy Wynette) - Justified and Ancient (Stand by the JAMS)
FiL from Pogoagogo

(39:32) Captain Beefheart & The Magic Band - Ice cream for crow
Chris from Phosphorous.net

(44:45) Joni Mitchell - Both sides now
Natalie from Mini-obs

For the benefit of those not versed in British cultcha, there's a reason Dearest Tim chose the theme of "Ice Cream" for episode 99. You see, a "99" is a cone of soft ice cream with a finger-length bar of flaky chocolate stuck in it. Indeed, the choco-digit is itself known as a 99 Flake, though no one is really sure whence the numerical nomenclature. So whole generations of British sproglets grew up asking for a 99 from dodgy men in rickety vehicles playing creepy music.

I chose my contribution for four reasons: it namechecks an ice cream van, it's awesome, it features Tammy Wynette, and it features the lyric "make mine a 99." So the first and last of these qualified it for inclusion. I didn't have too much else to scoop this week, but these might have ended up in the sundae:

Ariane - Ice Cream (on this CD, which I have but dunno where you can buy it...)
Yeah, yeah, yé-yé!! I was sorely tempted to dish up this bit of French (yes, I know she was Belgian, but give me some artistic license, willya?) vanilla, but I had already submitted it for CP's first birthday last year. Anyway, it recounts the story of an ice-cream-loving fille and her gin-swilling partner who have a thing going on, despite their differing appetites. All of this set, of course, to a hip, swingin beat, daddy-o...

The Dickies - The Banana Splits (buy here)
Silly punkiness a go-go!! For those who didn't grow up in the American idiom, The Banana Splits was a kids show from the late sixties / early seventies starring a beagle, a lion, a gorilla, and an elephant, all of whom were on some sort of psychotropic drugs.

Next week marks CP's 100th episode! Help celebrate by submitting something suitably hundredesque - find out how over here.

It's a Joke

I'm not very good at telling jokes. Really. My humour tends to be more situational, observational, absurd. But at least I'm not as offensive (I think) as Yuri, the deranged owner of Klub Ra-Ra-Rasputin who introduces my submission to this week's Contrast Podcast episode of joke intros. Download the hilarity here, but beware: some of the intros are very blue indeed.

Playlist:

(00:43) George W. & Tom Compagnoni - Imagine

Rick and Kristi from Are you embarassed easily?

(06:04) The Ms - Mansion in the valley

Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(09:24) Chumbawamba - Look! No strings!

SiD from Too Much Rock

(14:49) CSS - Alcohol

Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(17:51) The Jam - News of the world

Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(22:34) The Lucksmiths - I started a joke

Natalie from Mini-obs

(27:35) Simon & Garfunkel - At the Zoo

Mark from Cinema Du Lyon

(30:55) The Handcuffs - I’m not laughing

FiL from Pogoagogo

(35:39) Bowling for soup - I’ll melt with you

Linda from Speed of dark

(40:30) Gene Vincent - Who slapped John?

Tim from The face of today

(44:39) Beth Orton - Someone’s daughter

Anna from the Music I-Quiz

(49:53) The Shop Assistants - I don’t wanna be friends with you

Dirk from Sexy Loser

(52:36) Dolby’s Cube - Howard the duck

Thom from Better in the dark

(57:26) Edward Dade - Concertina Medley

Stuart Dade

(01:02:29) Puzzled Panthers - Now I hear the laughter

Eiron from A Blog of No Importance

(01:09:13) The Smiths - That joke isn’t funny anymore

JC from The Vinyl Villain

(01:13:31) Islands - Where there’s a will there’s a whalebone

Brian from State Fare

(01:18:22) Ozma - Apple trees

James from Appetite For Distraction

(01:22:27) The Dandy Warhols - Cool as Kim Deal

John from And you’ll never hear surf music again

(01:26:21) Blind Lemon Jefferson - He arose from the dead

Pieter from Two tramps in mud time

(01:31:10) Tante Felipe - haahaaAA

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

OK, so what other songs of mirth and merriment almost made my laugh track? Well, these:

Josef K - Sorry for Laughing (buy here)
Yes, Dearest Ally posted this track not three weeks ago, along with a gorgeous bit of Postcard Records literature. So go over and have a look.

The Adicts - It's a Laugh (buy here or e-here)
A right knees-up from everyone's favourite old-tyme droog punks.

The Wedding Present - Don't Laugh (buy here or e-here)
Any excuse to post the amazing Weddoes.


Oh, alright. Just one joke: Why is the mushroom so popular? Because he's a fungi to be with.

*Wind whistles, tumbleweed tumbles, crickets chirp*

Fine, have it your way. Watch this instead:

Unmoored in Vegas

Not mine, but his

What a long, strange trip it has been...

I think it was last Sunday evening that it realy hit me, when I had already been in Vegas for four days (or four nights, as it seems more appropriate to measure Vegas time in terms of nights). I was wandering The Strip, on my way to somewhere, when suddenly I came unmoored. The ching-ching-ching-whoop of the slots, the all-permeating stench of stale cigarette smoke mixed with cheap air freshener, the swirly-whirly carpets, the tight-lipped and desperate hunched like carrion crows over the gaming tables, the cheap buffets of all-you-can-eat / nothing-I-want-to-eat "food," the totalitarian architecture of Fun, the crablike Mexicans swaddled against the desert cold flick-flick-clicking cards that promised you your own private dancer (a dancer for money). And at that point I could no longer conceive of a time before or a place other than Vegas. I was adrift.

Suicide - Goin' to Las Vegas (buy here or e-here)

Indeed, seven days in the belly of that city was too much, waay too much for me. It was my second visit, and I still couldn't buy into the myth, the sacred narrative of a city where everything is possible, where you can sin without censure, where Big Brother says You Will Have Fun. To me it was all so contrived, and I couldn't help but see the manufactured sinews and muscles that held it all together, like the flayed, plastinated cadavers on display at The Tropicana. The heart of Vegas has no soul.

But Dearest Friends, don't think that I did not enjoy myself at all. Oh no, I had some good times on my trip - they were just around the edges. For the first 72 hours I had the unalloyed pleasure of Dearest T's company. As I mentioned below, we had planned on indulging in a few excesses, and I would be lying if I said we didn't enjoy a few nice meals and drank a wee bit too much (Gluttony), drop a few dollars in very half-hearted gambling (Avarice), sleep in a tad (Sloth) and admire some pulchritudinous ladies (Lust). But we enjoyed ourselves most when we were off The Strip - the further off, the better...

We escaped frequently in our big, fat rented Dodge Avenger, first to the legendary Hoover Dam. We stopped en route at Boulder City's Southwest Diner for a proper greasy brunch, and Those Potatoes were delish. The Dam is an impressive monument both to human engineering and to the socio-historic context that caused it to be built. The police checkpoints on its approach were a monument to present day politics. From the dam we drove into Arizona, then back again and around the peculiar, man-made contours of Lake Mead, reaching the astounding silence and stunningly improbable rock formations of the Valley of Fire State Park around sunset. Then we drove back in inky, velvet blackness, able to take bearings only when the neon grid of Vegas hove back into view.

Another foray to the fringe of the city saw us explore our inner Rambo at a Rent-A-Popgun range. Nevada is a gun freak's wet dream; all you need to get your own little piece of lead-spitting death is a state driving license. And for $150, anyone can have the Combat Special experience: one magazine of ammo through each of a silenced .45 pistol, two 9mm full-automatic submachine guns, and a 12-gauge semiautomatic shotgun. Well, why not, we thought? When in Rome...

The Clash - Tommy Gun (buy here)

The episode left me, a believer in Draconian gun control, somewhat perturbed. Our rangemaster, a cubic hunk of muscle with a buzz-cut, commented on my weak grip as the pistol jammed round after round. I'm sure he thought my liver was carpeted in lilies. The submachine guns were frightening for two reasons. First, they were rather fun, in a Boy's Own way. Second, it was terrifyingly easy for Lily-Livered FiL to put a spray of bullets into the chest area of the paper silhouette some 21 feet away. When it came to the shotgun, Dearest T warned me that I'd feel it in my shoulder. Mister Cubic guffawed, then commented that he'd put 300 rounds through just such a scattergun and had felt nothing. He admitted, however, that he had been distracted by the people firing back at him. Ye gods!! Well, suffice to say my shoulder ached for days after, and my faith in stern firearm laws was reinforced tenfold.

Gang of Four - Armalite Rifle (buy here)

Overall, my Combat Experience left me feeing rather sordid, as if I had just partaken of some degrading yet titillating bit of pornography. I was therefore rather pleased when we got back in the Avenger and decided to drive towards California, with no particular goal in mind. We drove across the Mojave Desert on an arrow-straight, satin-smooth blacktop that unrolled in front of us from here to the horizon. Dearest T, having had a proper English upbringing, couldn't share in the cheesy perfection of the moment when Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" popped on the mp3 player several miles past the Californian border. But I did rue omitting The Normal's "Warm Leatherette" from the playlist. We eventually ended up in Baker, CA (population 914), home to the World's Tallest Thermometer and The Mad Greek Diner, who's questionable claim to serve the best gyros in America was more than offsett by the blue, vinyl booths and in-yer-face expressions of Hellenic supremacy. After (yet another) greasy meal, we hopped back into the car and red-lined it through the evening back to Sin City, where we caught a shabby but entertaining magic show at The Greek Isles, a frayed hotel just off the edge of The Strip that had, like its patrons, seen far, far more glamourous days.

Journey - Don't Stop Believin' (buy here)
The Normal - Warm Leatherette (buy here)

Dearest Friends, you would be excused if, after reading this, you were to think that my trip to Vegas was largely tolerated rather than enjoyed. But that would be incorrect. For I have neglected to tell you about the place I discovered where my spirit found comfort amidst a smoky haze, strong beer, fine folk, and righteous music.

Stay tuned for stories from the Double Down Saloon...

P.S. Oh yes, the conference. Well, the gist was: the US economy is ropey, house prices will continue to plunge, it'll take three to four years to recover, no-one is quite sure what to do, capitalism is bankrupt, and we need to find a replacement fast. Well, OK, maybe the last two points were my fanciful additions.

Standing Proud

Right, this week Contrast Podcast puffs out it's chest, fans out it's tail feathers, and struts about like the cock of the walk. In other word, it's fully indulging in the mortal sin of pride. And CP sure has a lot to be proud of! Well, more specifically, those fine folk who contribute do. So download the podcast here, listen to it, and don't forget to tell everyone here how proud you are of us all.

Here's the f'ing awesome playlist:

(00:00) Intro from Mr G. Letch & Mr A. Thrub

(02:29) Cassius Clay - I am the greatest
Tim from The face of today

(04:57) The Fall - MC5
Chris from Phosphorous.net

(08:50) A plus D - I’m really Hot! Hot! Hot!
The Professor from Old fridges can kill

(12:48) The Beach Boys - Hang onto your ego
Brendan from The Rising Storm

(17:10) I, Ludicrous - Preposterous tales
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(23:09) The National - All the wine
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(26:35) King - Love and pride
Mark from Cinema du Lyon

(30:18) Pride tiger - Let ‘em go
FiL from Pogoagogo

(34:12) 1990s - Pollockshields
JC from The Vinyl Villain

(39:29) Ringo Starr - I’m the greatest
Natalie from Mini-obs

(43:17) The Decemberists - The apology song
SiD from Too Much Rock

(47:03) Neil Young - River of pride
Linda from Speed of dark

(50:40) Zebrahead - I’m money
James from Appetite For Distraction

(55:12) Pieter Spealman - Some song I made
Pieter from Two Tramps in Mud Time

(59:55) Hüsker Dü - Pride
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(01:02:14) Roxy Music - The pride and the pain
Conrad from White Car Records

(01:06:57) The Lightning Seeds - Three Lions
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

I was rather fortunate that the appropriately monikered Pride Tiger recently released a stonking album from which I could offer up a most excellent track. Actually, I was kinda surprised that I took to them; these four Vancouver lads worship at the altar of seventies vinyl rock; you can sure hear the Hendrix, Sabbath, and Thin Lizzy leaking through. And that's generally not my favourite idiom. However, each of those three acts have one or two songs that I think rule. Paranoia. Boys Are Back in Town. Foxy Lady. And Pride Tiger manage to sound like the best bits of those songs all scuzzed together. What's more, their name comes from a freak collision of a Dio video and Okanagan apple cider. So, awesome local band + theme-appropriate name = no brainer. And I'll even take the uncharacteristic step of posting my contribution:

Pride Tiger - Let 'em Go (buy here )

What else was under consideration? These tunes:

Vice Squad - Stand Strong, Stand Proud (buy here or e-here)
Vintage 1978 Bristol pop punks fronted by the tough-as-nails, glam-as-fuck Beki Bondage. The band sort of dissolved into messy factions in the early 80s, but now Mizz Bondage is once again leading a reconstituted Squad with herself as the only original member. This song is from 1981, the year the band signed/sold out (delete as you feel appropriate) to EMI. It's a good stomper, but could do with being louder, faster, and more in-yer-face, IMHO.

Dayglo Abortions - Proud To Be A Canadian (buy here or e-here)
Another local(ish) band. The DA's hail from BC's provincial capital of Victoria and have been churning out their gross-you-out, sophomoric thrash punk (c.f. Argh Fuck Kill, I Killed Mommy, Fuck Satan To Death) for over a quarter-century now. Long may they continue.

Speaking of sin, I'm off tomorrow to Las Vegas for a full week of the stuff. Actually, Vegas isn't my favourite place on earth. Too much fake, too much materialism, too much too much. And yet it fascinates me - I can't help but see it a uniquely American 1920s mashup of Weimar Republic decadence, Versailles Palace just before the French Revolution, and The Shopping Mall. But despite my ambivalence, I plan to try and go with the spirit of the place (purely for reasons of anthropological research, of course).

The latter four days of my stay will be spent at a work conference, so the debauchery content of those days should be rather low. However, for the first four days I will be off duty, so anything might happen. I am actually meeting up with Dearest T, who occasionally visits and comments round these parts. He is one of my closest friends, and I'm looking forward to a stonking time. We've discussed which sins to focus on, and have agreed to ditch Envy, Anger, and Pride. That leaves Greed, Gluttony, Lust, and Sloth. The actual proportions of the mix we'll leave to chance. Après nous le Deluge.

So, I suppose I should post a few songs to get us in the mood for Vega$$$. But before I do, next week Contrast Podcast celebrates the year 1997, coz Tim likes it. Get thinking, and get submitting.

Right, music.

The Beat - Jackpot (buy here)
Roy Batty - I'm Too Sexy For Sex (no idea where to find more of this mashup goodness)
Duran Duran - Hungry Like The Wolf (buy here)
Sex Pistols - Seventeen [Lazy Sod] (buy the now-official Spunk bootleg here)

Fifteen Minutes of Fame

Oooh, is that Angelina Jolie who just dropped by for a visit? Or maybe Parker Posy?? No? Oh well, I suppose I just got carried away by this week's Contrast Podcast theme of "My Brush With Fame." This episode sees a veritable gala of podcastic stars sashay down the red carpet to take the stage and recount their various dalliances with The Famous. Oh, and the soundtrack is bloody ace, as usual. Download the whole thing here, have a listen, and scribble your fanmail here.

So, on to the credits:

(00:00) Oasis - Don’t look back in anger
Anna from Music I-Quiz

(06:49) Bill Haley & His Comets - Rock around the clock
Natalie from Mini-obs

(10:26) Revolver - Heaven sent an angel
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(16:30) Henri Salvador - Monsieur boum boum
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(20:33) L7 - Hanging on the telephone
FiL from Pogoagogo

(25:54) Charlotte Hatherley - I want you to know
Chris from Phosphorous.net

(29:13) Thurston Moore - Fri_Emd
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(34:16) Filter - Hey man, nice shot
SiD from Too Much Rock

(41:02) Five For Fighting - Superman
Alex from Totally true tales from Texas

(46:22) Spike Milligan - Knees
Tim from The face of today

(50:00) The Builders And The Butchers - The gallows
Pieter from Two Tramps in Mud Time

(53:58) The Hotknives - Holsten boys
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(01:00:42) New Order - Ceremony
JC from The Vinyl Villain

(01:10:08) Haircut 100 - Fantastic day
Mark from Cinema du Lyon

(01:13:34) The Magnetic Fields - Famous
Linda from Speed of dark

(01:16:48) Tanya Donelly - Acrobat
Thom from Better in the Dark

(01:20:57) The Delgados - Everything goes around the water
Steve from Domino Rally

(01:26:30) U2 - Sunday Bloody Sunday
Brad from Brad’s Blog

(01:31:45) Mighty Mighty Bosstones - Noise brigade
James from Appetite For Distraction

(01:35:41) Math and Physics Club - When we get famous
Andy from Circles of Concrete

(01:38:20) Talking Heads - Mind
Greg from Broken dial

The bristles of fame have brushed me lightly several times over the years, so I had several anecdotes to choose from. In the end I went with the story of how Marcel Marceau trapped me in a London phone booth. It's true - he did. But as for the rest of my story, well, let's just say it's somewhat impressionistic. Among the other anecdotes I considered were:

• Almost getting run over at Heathrow Airport by baggage trolleys being pushed by the Fun Lovin' Criminals. They apologized.
  
  
• Standing RIGHT behind the legendary John Peel in a queue to pick up tickets for a Therapy? concert at the Cambridge Junction. I was too petrified to speak to him (so I can empathize, Dearest Ross).
  
  
• Leslie Ash, a toilet, and me.
  

As for alternate musical choices, I almost went with two songs about fame itself. But in the end I decided not to be so damn meta...

Momus - Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous (buy alternate version here or e-here)
Now please don't go confusing this track with the one by pop-punk chancers Good Charlotte. Think instead Pet Shop Boys meets Pulp for a clever conversation about Divine Comedy. This Scottish scoundrel describes himself as "ultraconformist, voyager, timelord, tennis and ping pong champion, tender pervert, poison boyfriend, hippopotamus, philosopher, folk singer, star forever." Which actually makes a whole lot of sense.

Sheep on Drugs - Fifteen Minutes of Fame (this is a remix, but you can buy alternate versions here or e-here)
Born out of a techno miasma of sleaze and sarcasm while everyone else was too busy raving and getting loved up. Original frontman Duncan X is now a tattooist, while his partner Lee continues to occasionaly whore the band around (and I mean that in the nicest possible way).

Next week it's back to the next deadly sin: Pride. Don't be too proud to contribute...

Smoke Gets In Your Ears

(Koff koff koff) Hello, Dearest Friends, (hack, splutter) and welcome to the smoking (koff) section. Yes, this week Contrast Podcast is indulging in all things related to that filthy habit: cigars, cigarettes, pipes, cigarillos, etc. Who would have though that the clean-cut Dearest Marcy could come up with such a theme??

Anyway, light up by downloading the podcast from here, and don't forget to leave your comments here. So, what does Tobacconist Tim have on offer for us...?

(00:44) Sarah Vaughan - No smokes blues
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(03:46) The Toy Dolls - I’ve got asthma
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(07:10) The House of Love - Soft as fire
Stuart

(12:34) Patsy Cline - Three cigarettes in the ashtray
FiL from Pogoagogo

(17:10) The Replacements - More cigarettes
Natalie from Mini-obs

(19:17) Otis Redding - Cigarettes and coffee
Crash from Pretending life is like a song

(23:56) Scarce - Glamourizing cigarettes
Linda from Speed of dark

(26:35) The Pogues - Bottle of smoke
JC from The Vinyl Villain

(29:37) K.D. Lang - Your smoke screen
Rick from Are you embarassed easily?

(33:30) James Hunter - No smoke without fire
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(36:40) Serge Gainsbourg - Les cigarillos
Tim from The face of today

(38:50) David Bavas - Cigarettes and bourbon
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(43:06) Hot Snakes - Paid in cigarettes
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(47:33) The Coconut Monkeyrocket - Smoky smoky
Mèden O. Zephyr from Old fridges can kill

(53:00) Marah - Coughing up blood
Lyle from Mentok the Mind-taker

(58:30) Bubble puppy - Hot smoke and sassafrass
Pieter from Two Tramps in Mud Time

(01:02:09) The Alarmists - Light a smoke
Andy from Circles of Concrete

(01:06:08) Hefner - The Hymn for the cigarettes
SiD from Too Much Rock

(01:10:13) Ben Folds Five - Smoke
James from Appetite For Distraction

(01:15:32) Nick Drake - Been smokin’ too long
Conrad from White Car Records

(01:18:51) Sam Cooke - Smoke rings
Anna from Music I-Quiz

I've never been much of a smoker; when I was younger I used to have the occasional cigar or cigarette on special occasions, but frankly never puffed more than three or for times a year. That said, I do still have a wee scar on my left palm where I once stubbed out a smoke, but that's another story. As is the wacky baccy.

The last time I smoked was in a North African restaurant in London about two years ago. After indulging in a tremendous meal, I noticed that one of the dessert menu offerings was a hubble-bubble. After some encouragement, my fellow diners agreed to join me and an elaborate hookah was brought out. Yes, the gurgling of the water did cause titters, but the resulting smoke was cool, silky smooth, and frankly delicious. (Sidebar: will we see hookah smoking catch on in the US? Will Johnny come marching home from Iraq with a hubble-bubble in his kit bag? Will chewing tobacco disappear to be replaced by cowboys puffing on water pipes? Just a thought).

But enough about me. Well, OK, almost enough. Patsy Cline was almost pipped at the post as my submission by Sheffield spiky electro-art rockers, Smokers Die Younger. So download it now, coz it's absolutely brilliant. Even if it's not Patsy Cline.

Smokers Die Younger - I Spy Dry Fear (buy here)

The only other contender this week was Mister Smokey Robinson. And this is the track wot I'd have offered up:

Smokey Robinson - Going To A Go Go (buy here)

And speaking of smoking, happiness is a cigar called Hamlet...



Next week's CP theme is "My Brush With Fame," so dust off those stories of wild, celebrity one-night stands and get submitting...

A Belated New Year's Post

2007 fades, Mayne Island

Yes, well, here we are one week in 2008. Is it too late to look back on what has gone before, reflect on where we are now, and ruminate on what might be to come? No? Alright then...

2007 has been a funny old, by my reckoning largely good, twelve months. We are now two-and-a-half years (OMG!!) into our life here in Vancouver, and things are comfy. Those of you who've pogoed a go-go for a while are probably sick to the back teeth of me gushing about this fabulous city and my beloved Mayne Island ("Smug bastard!!" shout the assembled chorus). Both Dearest Wife and I are gainfully employed, and I had what one can define as a successful year (brace yourselves: the programme that your FiL is managing now stands at $1 billion; isn't that crazy scary? I'm crazy scared.). Bairns are thriving and not psychopathic, so a pass mark on the parenting front as well.

Despite the foregoing, I find myself starting 2008 in a small, greyish cloud tinged with dissatisfaction. Over he past few years I've shed the teleological idea of finding an end-point or goal; frankly I don't believe there is one. The trick is to reflect on (and ideally rejoice in) the journey. However, it's all been rather hectic around here of late, so much so that I've been finding it difficult to ascertain the path. I'm being a bit of a spoilt brat here; during my final years in London I lived largely like a pithed frog, ground down by city and City life, while here I have a most acceptable work-life balance. But I'm still finding it extremely hard to be as mindful, reflective, discursive, and creative as my soul tells me I need to be. So the plan for 2008 is to rediscover that path. Goodness, is that the time? Right, must move on - I'm sure you don't want to gaze at my navel any more...

One of the most cockle-warming developments of the past year has been how his blogging lark has evolved. You are all fine, wonderful folk and I stand gobsmacked with awe and wonderment when I consider the friendships and connexions that we have woven. Dearest Wife, who remains robustly uninfected by the blogging virus, still occasionally refers to my imaginary friends. Let me assure you that each time she does I counter with lengthy, well-supported arguments to the contrary. You are all very real to me, and I'm thrilled and grateful that my Dearest Friends --both those with whom I have long offline history and those who I know only as electrons-- choose to visit. I could list all those requiring special mention, but my finger (yes, I'm a monodigital typist) would be worn down to a stump before I got through you all.

Did someone say "list?" I'm hopeless at compiling year-end "Best Of" parades. But as we're on the subject, and seeing as y'all realy only come here for the music (I know you do, stop pretending it's cuz you like me), here's an incomplete, messy rundown of some of the tunes that rocked my world in 2007. Not all were released last year; there's old, new, borrowed and blue in the pile. But I love them all, as I do you!!

Old Man Luedecke - At The Airport (buy here or e-here)
One of the fine, fantastic treats of 2007's Vancouver Folk Music Festival. Here's what I had to say about him at the time.

Rodney DeCroo - War-Torn Man (buy here or e-here)
Another fine Festival discovery. This is a haunting, unsettling, raw track. I've tried and failed to see Rodney again during one of his many gigs around town, but maybe in 2008. Pop over here if you want to find out why he grabbed me so.

The Fugitives - Shiny Plastic Bags (buy here)
Yet another gem I came across at the Festival - now do you believe me when I say it ain't all about tie-dye, granola, and dirty hippies?? These kids are simply astounding, and they weave yards of stunning musical cloth out of multi-instrumental genius and rich, textured language. Some labels flung at them include slam-folk or folk-hop, but those tags don't do them an iota of justice. They've been peppered with awards and nominations in the arenas of both poetry and music, and frankly they're a fucking Canadian national treasure. Barbara Adler is a shining lyrical goddess. In fact, I'm kicking myself right now for not having posted about them sooner. FiL, yer a goddamn lazy eedjit. Listen to this track, let it swell in you till you almost burst, then go back and listen again to try and understand why your eyes are damp with tears and all the hairs on your body are standing at attention. Repeat.

Les Breastfeeders - Ostrogoth A Go-Go (buy here or e-here)
Groovy garage rawk goodness from Quebec. I tell you, there's a whole lotta Francophone shakin' goin' on back east. I especially love this cos it namechecks those East Germanic Goths (as in ancient tribe, not Bauhaus)...

Verka Serduchka - Danzing Lashai Tumbai (buy here)
My love for Verka knows no bounds. The Ukrainian diva was ROBBED of her rightful Eurovision title by the underhanded Serbs. A truly guilty, trashy pleasure - call in the Ostrogoths for a boogie...

Tranzmitors - Is Your Head Hollow (buy here or e-here)
These local garage-mods are my Heroes of the Year. Fast, tight, and catchy - as I told you here and here.

The Out Cast - You Gat A Call Me (buy here)
Back in October I met up with Dearest JC while he was stationed in Toronto. During a boozy visit to a small-but-perfectly-formed record shoppe I stumbled across a CD of Japanese Group Sound (GS) garage bands from the sixties. I had to make it mine - listen to this mighty track from The Out Cast and you'll understand why. It also does a lot to explain Shonen Knife and the 5.6.7.8's...

Gore Gore Girls - Astral Man (get some Gore Gore here or e-here)
They're from Detroit, they're grrrlz, they make a rammy good sound, and they've been on the empeefree playah frequently over the past 12 months. This track is a freebie off of their myspace page.

Rai Ko Ris - Nepal Bandh (download more here, buy from this guy)
OK, here's an example of that connexion thing I got all weepy about earlier. After submitting a Nepalese ska-punk tune to the Contrast Podcast, I noodled around the internetty to see if I could find any more Kathmandu noise. Long story short, I came across these fast 'n' loud hardcore punks with heart and principle and was galvanized. After a lovely exchange of e-mails with guitarist/bassist Sareena (that went far beyond music into parenting, life-values, and politics), I got hold of some more of their stuff from German world punk champion Ingo at Punkdeluxe. Watch this space - you'll be hearing more from me about them.

We Are THE PHYSICS - Less Than Three (buy here when they have any in stock)
I got switched on to these frenzied Glaswegian lads early on in the year and remain mad for them.

CocoRosie - Japan (buy here or e-here)
It were Dearest Toad wot turned me on to these two eccentric sisters. Quirky, dreamlike, trippy-hoppy, and mesmerising.

Palomar - Bury Me Closer (buy here or e-here)
One to play at my funeral. Bright, shiny, heartfelt, and sad all at once.