It's All Gone a Bit Bollywood

Hare Rama Hare Krishna (1971)

Look, just don't ask why, coz I haven't a sag aloo. But if you were to drop by my place tonight, you'd see me dancing (badly) to this:

Asha Bhosle and Usha Iyer - I Love You (buy here)

Oh cobblers, I think I've torn my sari. And where did all those stinking hippies come from??

Pothead

And so, I'm back. Actually, I've been back for about a week, apart from this weekend when I was once again forth. But yesterday I was back again, but will go forth and back and forth and back in the coming weeks.

Oh dear, I think I've muddled it all up. Let me try again...

Last week I returned to town after two lovely weeks on Mayne Island. Lovely, but only partly restful; those of you with spawn of your own will know that children of single-digit ages are particularly adept at staving off peace & quiet. We also had the pleasure of dogsitting Dearest Father-in-Law's hound, a chocolate lab whose irrepressible happiness is largely offset by her incorrigible compulsion to alternately roll in or eat the foulest substance she can find. Which on Mayne means otter poo. Fret not, I shan't go any further into detail.

Dearest Wife, Little Man, and Darling Daughter are staying on on Mayne until Labour Day, which will give them a full six weeks of island time. For the kids, I'm hoping it'll be the stuff childhood memories are made of. Beach forts. Shells. Seaweed. Ice cream treats. For Dearest Wife, well, I hope she finds some soul-refresh time. I shall be joining them on weekends, temporarily locking the absurdities of finance in the boot of the car every Friday evening before stepping onto the ferry.

You might think that with both bride and bairns on the island I would be leading the life of a carefree, bachelor libertine. You know, leaving the toilet seat up because I can, going down the boozer every evening, frequenting discotheques, etcetera. Well, it's not like that at all. And why?

Because of flora.

No, no, no, not some floozy named big-eff Flora, but flora as in vegetation, greenery, things botanical. Goodness, where DO you get these ideas?

You see, Dearest Friends, Darling Wife is a keen gardener and I have been requested to ensure her plant empire remains watered and alive. Well, I say "requested," but the request came accompanied by a three-pages of instructions and the implication that should I neglect the plants I'd be better off buried beneath them.

To be fair, Darling Wife did set up a soaker hose on a timer for the back garden flowerbeds. And her instructions are written to cater for my horticultural illiteracy. But it's the pots that are killing me. You want to know how many she has? Guess.

Nope, more.

Give up? Just over one hundred of the buggers. Yes, a century of the things, ranging from tiddly seedling receptacles to a whacking huge ones in which you could hide a wombat, if there wasn't already a Japanese maple in it. There are some in the back garden, some in the front, some inside the house, some on the shower deck, and some on the top deck. And I spend ninety minutes each day checking and soaking them. Yes, an hour and a half.

Now bitching aside, I know both that Dearest Wife derives great pleasure and satisfaction from her horticulture, and that she's damn good at it. I also appreciate the results of her efforts and am pleasantly aware of the garden in general, but I really have little interest in the specifics. Which leads to many conversations like this:

Dearest Wife: "I'm really pleased with my Scrofula Scabulosa. Don't you think it looks marvellous?

FiL: (Engrossed in Betty Swallocks: The Memoirs of Lemmy Kilmister's Jockstrap) Mmm, yes.

DW: You're just saying that. You don't know which one I'm talking about.

F: Um, yes I do. It's the, er, red one. With the leaves.

DW: Oh, honestly (stalks out of room).

F: Sigh. (Returns to Betty, but enjoys it slightly less)

And so, Dearest Readers, that's why this little patch of blog garden is looking a bit limp and peaky as of late. I'll try to tend to it a bit better, most likely at night.

Love & Rockets - Yin & Yang (The Flowerpot Man) (buy here or e-here)
PiL - Flowers of Romance (buy here)
The Clientele - The Garden at Night (buy here or e-here)

Island Rain

View from Crane Point, Mayne Island
29 July, 8:30 PM

It rained today, the first time it has done so since we arrived on the island over a week ago. I awoke late to the sounds of raindrops pittering and pattering on the metal roof, and turned over to see a film of downy grey mist shrouding the Trincomali Channel. A lone, ghost-like fishing boat sculled across its waters.

I got up and decided to shave for the first time since we arrived. Why? No good reason. My scraggle was well within the realms of acceptable island tonsorial fashion, and the itching had stopped days ago. But shave I did.

After a long breakfast (granola, natch) and ablutions, to the "village" for errands with Little Man. At the Post Office we found out that the mail comes in and goes out at six A.M. on a special Canada Post boat that weaves its way around the islands. It's still raining softly as we walk to the Trading Post for local free-range eggs and then to the Gas Station to pick up a litre of engine oil. Dearest Father-in-Law's 1992 Toyota Camry station wagon (a.k.a. The Green Whale) seems to be guzzling through the stuff (oil, not eggs). We have to wait to pay, as the girl tending the station had to run down to the gas dock to fuel up a passing boat.

We stroll to the True Value to stock up on groceries --blueberries, freshly picked salad greens, and a side of salmon to be barbecued tonight-- and finish with a stop at the Bakery next door for fresh bread. Oh, and a Nanaimo Bar, that Little Man and I share at a damp picnic table outside, watching the world go by. It is still raining.

We drive back to the house, and the afternoon unfolds into puzzles, mugs of tea, story reading, games of checkers, and the occasional squabble of siblings who, if asked, would really rather be out beachcombing, bouldering, and being pulled through the water by Daddy in their kayak, Gumdrop. But they did like the stories, checkers, and puzzles.

Evening approaches, and the salmon is grilled, then enjoyed in the company of a visiting hummingbird and squirrel. And the rain finally stops.

And the sun comes out, just for a brief spell, before it starts to set, gloriously.

Rodney DeCroo - Rain Rain (with Sam Parton of the Be Good Tanyas)
Rodney has a new album out in September, but in the meantime buy his stuff here.

We Should Be Slowing Down About Now...

Phew! It's all been going soooooooo faaaaaaast! And have I had time to tell you half the stories I want to? Of course not...

But today we're off to Mayne Island for a fortnight --that's TWO WHOLE WEEKS-- of downtime. I cannot wait until we board the ferry. It's like some sort of cosmic temporal transmogrfier; you can actually feel the time slow right down the minute you step on board. Glorious...

I will have my laptop with me, and plan to catch up with you all. In the meantime:

The Epoxies - I Need More Time (buy here or e-here)

Promise You'll Listen, Or Else...

Alright, head on over to the Contrast Podcast RIGHT NOW or else I promise you the kitty will get it...

Aw, shucks, you didn't think I'd really hurt the wee moggie, do you? Admittedly I am both a dog person and very allergic to felines, but never in a million years would I --could I-- harm Tiddles, let alone any beastie. Oh, and for the record, I think strong gun control is essential for a civilized society.

Right, were was I? Oh yes, this week the CP offers up both threats and promises, thanks to our current Thememistress, Dearest Greer. It's a lovely cast, well-balanced between the two options and full of excellent tuneage from contributors old and new. For a change, I've actually started to listen to the podcast before the weekend (the silver lining of having a longer bus commute while the car is in the shop) and the intro is a fantastically atmospheric, hiiilarious, noirish exchange between Greer and CP compere extraordinaire, Young Tim. You must listen, I promise you'll enjoy it!! Download it here, and leave your comments here. And the threats/promises made this week are:

(00:00) DAG - Ruin you
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

(04:31) Eric Clapton - Promises
Anna from Desert Island Jukebox

(07:57) Minor Threat - Minor threat
James from Appetite For Distraction

(09:42) Good Friend - It’s a deal
Eiron from The S+7 Method

(11:23) The Buzzcocks - Promises
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(15:49) Nellie McKay - Won’t U please B nice?
Matt from Perceptions Delusions

(18:35) Big Stick - A threat
Tim from The face of today

(22:01) Queen Esther - Promise me
Victoria from Muruch

(26:10) The Black Heart Procession - Not just words
Tricia

(30:40) Jeremy Warmsley - I promise
Adam from Pretending life is like a song

(34:45) The Tiger Lillies - Kill you
FiL from Pogoagogo

(39:52) SoKo - I’ll kill her
DC from The Waiting Room

(44:03) The Proclaimers - I’m gonna be (500 miles)
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(48:24) Current 93 - A sadness song
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

The Tiger Lillies it was by a mile, but I was tempted to make a few other threats and promises, to wit:

Volumizer - I Promise You Thomas (buy here or e-here)
Dishrag Jade Blade, Pointed Stick Bill Hemy, and J3RK5 Rodney Graham formed this little but loud Vancouver project back in 2002. The song apparently is dedicated to Jade's godson.

Gore Gore Girls - I'm Gonna Get You Yet (buy here)
Oh, what I wouldn't give for these gorgeous garage gals to aim that threat at me. almost makes me want to go to Detroit.

L7- Shove (buy here)
I know of no finer getthafukkouddahereorelse song. None.

CocoRosie - Promise (buy here or e-here)
I keep drifting back to CocoRosie's odd little reverie of an album, The Adventures of Ghosthorse and Stillborne. So rich and lush...

Next week Contrast Podcast goes through the Days of the Week, thanks to Dearest Marcy. Find out how to contribute here.

Monkeying About

Please, Dearest Friends, grab a vine and swing on over to the Contrast Podcast jungle post haste, and get ready for more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Yes, this week the CP goes all apeshit on us with an entire episode dedicated to humanity's simian cousins. The apesolutely fantastic selection of tunes is enough to make a monkey out of anyone, and Dearest Tim is, as usual, the masterful organ grinder. So get ready to do the funky gibbon and come join in all the baboonery by downloading the podcast directly here, then gibber and hoot about it over here (Stop it right now, the cliche police have been called - Ed). And here's all the monkey business (I said stop it!! - Ed):

(00:00) Hoagy Carmichael - The monkey song
Tim from The face of today

(03:37) Comsat Angels - Monkey pilot
Adam from Pretending life is like a song

(08:09) Free Kitten - Bananas
Ross from Just gimme indie rock

(11:10) The Pixies - Monkey gone to heaven (BBC version)
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(14:18) The Kinks - Apeman
Anna from Desert Island Jukebox

(18:50) The Mummies - (You must fight to live) on the planet of the apes
FiL from Pogoagogo

(23:31) The Bottle Rockets - Coffee monkey
Linda from Speed of dark

(26:01) The Specials - Monkey man
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(29:39) The Traveling Wilburys - Tweeter and the monkey man
James from Appetite For Distraction

(35:21) The Monkees - What am I doing hangin’ around
Natalie from Mini-obs

(38:26) The Intruders - Me Tarzan, you Jane
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

(41:46) John Hadfield - Robot monkey head
Rick from Are you embarassed easily?

(45:28) The Apparitions - God monkey robot
Andy from Circles of Concrete

(50:15) Bachelors of Science - Jungle monkey
Eiron from The S+7 Method

(58:13) The Czars - Killjoy

Tricia

There seem to be a lot of apes and monkeys inhabiting my music collection, and though The Mummies were my choice this week (since I was feeling a bit garagey), a few other tracks screamed for my attention:

Add N To X - Sir Ape (buy here)
I love these guys and the jarring electronic noises that they make. And yet I've never been able to listen to a whole album of theirs from start to finish, coz usually by track three or four my nerves are shredded and the low frequencies have caused my internal organs to collapse.

The Maytals - Monkey Man (buy here)
Dearest Dirk posted the storming Specials cover of this skankeriffic song, so here's the 1969 original from ska kings The Maytals. The Specials version has actually become a fast favourite of Darling Daughter and Little Man - they sing along perfectly to the line "beeg, beeg, monkey man" before dissolving into fits of laughter.

Don Ho - Shock The Monkey (buy here)
Yes, you read right. That's the late Hawaiian kitschmeister himself doing a luau-lounge version of the Peter Gabriel standard. If that isn't enough to make your grass skirt flip, you MUST visit his website...

The Wynona Ryders - Bang Bang Orangutan (buy here or e-here)
The only punk song I know that namechecks this splendid beast.

This podcast got me musing: what is my favourite primate, not counting man? I decided that while I am rather partial to howler monkeys and do have a very soft spot for the pygmy marmoset, it's the aye-aye that I hold most dear. Yes, there is a certain depth of character to this nocturnal beast, considered unjustly as a harbinger of death by the humans who inhabit its home of Madagascar, that other monkeys and apes cannot match. So, what's your favourite ape, lemur, or monkey??

And then there are the fictional primates. The clear winner for me there is Magilla Gorilla, the TV cartoon ape with whom I spent many a childhood hour. To this day I'm prone to singing the theme song at random. Here, let me introduce / reacquaint you:




OK, I think I'm rapidly losing the plot here and I'd better stop; I was about to tell you a story about proboscis monkeys and mistaken subtitling in Dutch films. Next week's CP theme is "Threats & Promises," so get thinking of a submission and submit. Or else...

Back into Summer

And so, Dearest Friends, I'm back. Still rather wobbly on my feet, but back nonetheless...

My trip to New York went acceptably well. There was much dark matter; accusations, bitterness, spite. But there were also brief flashes of light; gratitude, shared enjoyment. I also found myself spending an inordinate amount of emotional time reconciling the present summer with summers past. As mentioned previously, Mother has moved to a part of Long Island where I spent much time as a child. Several times during this last visit memories would scream around the corner, doing twenty-years-plus per second, and smack right into me. Nothing traumatic, but rather discomfiting. But the trip wasn't about me; it was about Mother, and I am thankful that I managed to stay (largely) centred and do what I set out to. However, the visit, bookended by disrupted redeye flights, left me drained. I'm still trying to refill...

I'm also still having difficulty shaking out the causes of and working through the implications of my car prang. Truth be told, it's still dragging me low. It's as if the incident suddenly turned on a bright light, revealing a host of less-than-comfortable thoughts and emotions that need to be caught before being they scurry away back into the darkness.

But soft! There have also been moments of great fun, most prominent of which was a visit by Mentok the Mindtaker and his family. He and I have been blog buddies for over 18 months now, and this year the trajectory of his summer holiday took him through our neck of the woods. We spent the evening hanging out on one of our local beaches, dining on pizzas and chatting while our kids did all that normal kids do in sand and surf. Then back to chez nous, where they spent the night before striking out the following morning to their ultimate destination. It was a wonderful transition from the virtual to the real - Mentok, his wife Library Mama, and their three boys are all absolutely lovely. And completely housebroken. So I can unreservedly recommend that you all welcome Clan Mentok into your homes, should the occasion arise.

Oh, and it seems summer has finally arrived. I know many in the blogosphere have already welcomed it with song, but given my equivocal state, I think it'd be a good, optimistic tonic for me to follow suit...

The Style Council - Long Hot Summer (buy here)

The Divine Comedy - The Summerhouse (buy here)

The Sea Urchins - Summershine (buy e-here)

Oh, and here's the video for "Long Hot Summer." Why, you ask, when it's sooo posey? Well, cos it shows Mick punting Paul down the River Cam, something that your FiL spent much summer time doing many years ago. And yes, it was just like that. Well, minus the bongos. And espadrilles. Oh, that bridge you can see between 1:19 and 1:43? That's the Bridge of Sighs, and it holds a most special, bittersweet place in my heart...

Trying To Tell Me Something

The universe is trying to tell me something.

It's been hectic around here.

First there is the general underlay of family life. Little Man, Darling Daughter, and all of their demands, both the delightful and drudgeful.

Then the flow of work. Eminently swimmable, but nevertheless requiring a constant stroke.

Then mother. I'm off this evening again to New York for five days to help her out. And though I'm trying to stay calm, I'm tight and tense about what barbs might be flung my way.

Then Dearest Wife, with whom, thanks to the aforementioned underlay and her own workflow, it has been ages since I've had a proper talk. I mean, a real howyadoin', howmidoin', heart-to-heart, ebb-and-floww conversation.

Then my tendency to squeeze out sleep to squeeze in the fun stuff, such as preparing Contrast Podcast episodes for this week and (as I'll be away) next week.

Then this morning. Scrambling to leave the house. A testy quip from Dearest Wife about priorities, formed of words that I imagined (unfairly? fairly?) might have flowed from Mother's mouth. A quip that prompted a surge of anger that I suppressed. It festered quickly.

Into the car. A totally ill-judged left turn on my part (I thought she was stopping), one that take away the stress and the anger I would never have made. A collision - thankfully no-one hurt, apart from my detached front bumper, the front of my unfortunate crash-mate's CRV, her nerves, my ego. Details exchanged, cars drive away, insurance company informed, premium rises.

Yes, the universe is trying to tell me something.

Slow down. Anger is not an energy (apologies to Mr John Lydon). It is a destructive emotion. Refocus. On yourself. On those around you. Show them all --yes, yourself too-- compassion. Sort it out.

Yes, Universe, I'm listening. And trying to learn.

See you all sometime next week, Dearest Friends.

Buzzcocks - Wake Up Call (buy here or e-here)
The Equators - Learn My Lesson (buy e-here)

Questions, Questions...

Good advice courtesy of dullhunk

What? Is it that time of the week already? Goodness, what was I thinking? Where's my head at? Is this thing on? Is anybody out there?

Yes, the latest episode of Contrast Podcast is out and this week Dearest JC aka The Vinyl Villain has got it asking questions. So if you fancy finding out what musical queries the awesome CP Nation has posed, head on over here or download the 'cast from here. Want to know what's up? Have a look:

(00:00) Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Do you love me?
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(06:57) The Donnas - Do you wanna hit it?
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

(10:36) Cheese on Bread - Where the fuck are they?
Shaun from Cold Citrus

(13:52) The Pointed Sticks - What do you want me to do?
FiL from Pogoagogo

(17:59) The Magicians - Why do I do these foolish things?
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(21:35) Jody Wildgoose - What can I do?
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(26:49) The Shirelles - Will you still love me tomorrow?
James from Appetite For Distraction

(30:15) Gashead - Why do you treat me like a tramp?
Michael from The Yank Sizzler

(33:43) The Feelies - What goes on?
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(37:49) Billy Bragg - When will I see you again?
Sir Timmy Saville from The face of today

(41:16) Love of Diagrams - What was I supposed to do?
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(44:27) The Dears - Who are you, defenders of the universe?
Linda from Speed of dark

(48:30) Camper Van Beethoven - Where the hell is Bill?
Natalie from Mini-obs

(51:30) Trout Fishing in America - Who are these people?
Anna from Desert Island Jukebox

I had long been waiting for an opportunity to submit a track by the mighty Pointed Sticks, so "What Do You Want Me To Do?" was unquestionably (no, please, no applause) the shoo-in for my contribution. A while back I mentioned the band in a post on Buzzcocks, since both bands shared a similarly bright, frantic, pop-punk sound. The Pointed Sticks formed in Vancouver in 1978 when singer Nick Jones returned from a stint in England, all hopped up and ready to go on account of all that Clash/Pistols stuff that he absorbed while working in a record store. Jones teamed up with his mate Bill Hemy on guitar, enlisted a drummer and bassist, and together named themselves after a Monty Python sketch. No joke.

There followed victory at a local battle of the bands and persistent touring on the West Coast (including a support slot with Buzzcocks), which built up an enthusiastic fanbase. They had both the thrill of being the first Canadian band signed to Stiff Records and the disappointment of the label failing to crystallize their debut album. Eventually it was re-recorded and released by a Vancouver label, but hassles continued to dog the band and eventually they split up in 1981.

It was a brief, white-hot run, but it left lasting scorch marks; some material was re-released in 1995, and in 2005 their debut and sole album, Perfect Youth, was reissued along with a compilation of singles and b-sides. The band somehow became Very Big in Japan and reformed in 2006 for a tour of that country. There followed a well-received re-enactment (they refused to call it a reunion) back in Canada, and the 'Sticks continue to gig - there's even talk of new material.

And y'know, I must declare a personal connection. I had become acquainted with The Pointed Sticks and their legacy in the late 1990s during my visits to Vancouver. Then, one hot summer's day in 2005, shortly after we moved to Vancouver, my kids ended up buying lemonade from guitarist Bill Hemy's kids, though I didn't realise they were Bill Hemy's kids until after the fact. Now my Little Man is in the same kindergarten class as Bill's youngest. And to top it off, Dearest Wife recently ran into Bill's wife, who herself fronted seminal Vancouver punk band The Dishrags, at a medieval studies conference in town. How these weird and wonderful webs are woven...

Oh, I can't resist - here's a short Pointed Sticks track for you. But promise you'll go listen to the podcast, then buy the record, OK? OK.

The Pointed Sticks - Somebody's Mom (buy here or e-here)

Anyway, did I consider any other tracks? Well, only in passing. And they were:

Gracie Fields - Will You Love Me When I'm Mutton? (buy here)
Aww, Our Gracie - the pride of Rochdale. What a warble!! Gorbless'er.

Sultans of Ping FC - Where's Me Jumper? (Gosh, hard to find now! buy here)
Actually, this was a submission on one of the very earliest episodes of the Contrast Podcast. I tell you, these lot were as mad as bag of ferrets. I still do an odd, whippy sort of dance when this vintage 1992 single comes on the gramophone. But I rather think they lost the plot after this moment of brilliance; I saw them support The Ramones in 1995 and was most disappointed by the experience. But they are touring again...

Next week CP goes all broody with the theme of "Babies." Please do contribute!

Revealed! Conspiracies & Mysteries

So it goes something like this: sometime back in the mid-1970s, the benevolent aliens who had been watching over humanity undetected for ages finally felt compelled to intervene. Genghis Khan they could tolerate. The Black Death, though distasteful, was mildly interesting. Stalin had no dress sense and was a boor, but they let him slide past. However, when they saw the cultural havoc being wreaked by the likes of Barry Manilow, Captain & Tennille, and naugahyde, they decided it was time to act.

Using centuries of knowledge gained through the judicious application of anal probing, they synthesized a small child and imbued him with wit, humour, mad technical skillz, and groovy taste in music. This boy was to be their gift to humanity, a saviour. They surreptitiously inserted him into a rather normal English family, and hoped that he would germinate before the world went all Sonny & Cher-shaped. Thankfully, he did.

That child was Tim Young, and his creation, Contrast Podcast, is what saved the world.

Of course you won't find this account anywhere "official" because "They" don't want you to know. But if you download this week's CP episode from here, your eyes will be opened to a whole host of mysteries and conspiracies. Like these:

(00:00) Big Dipper - Faith healer
Thom from Better in the dark

(04:22) Kitchens of Distinction - Cowboys and aliens
Linda from Speed of dark

(10:10) The Higsons - Conspiracy
FiL from Pogoagogo

(13:45) Interference - Psycho Jill
Victoria from Muruch

(16:30) The Wedding Present - Kennedy
JC aka The Vinyl Villian

(22:17) The Foo Fighters - Down in the park
Miss Wired

(26:22) Del Shannon - Silently
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(30:36) Hüsker Dü - Books about UFOs
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(34:33) Wipers - Mystery
Ross from Just Gimme Indie Rock

(36:37) Zebra - Who’s behind the door?
Natalie from Mini-obs

(43:00) Muse - Exo-politics
Lyle from Mentok the mind-taker

(48:00) Sean Lennon - Mystery Juice
James from Appetite For Distraction

(53:27) Le Tigre - Phanta
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(57:03) Chris Whitley - Something shines
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

(01:01:08) Philip Glass - Secret agent & roast beef
Nuno from Undercover songs

(01:07:04) Joni Mitchell - Amelia
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

This week I felt compelled to offer up The Higsons for two reasons, namely a) I felt the need for some groovily parping horns, and b) I really wanted to come clean on the whole bongos/Albania/Moonies thing. But I also considered the following mysterious tracks:

China Crisis - Tragedy & Mystery (buy here)
I never managed to classify these Merseyside marvels of the eighties. If pressed, I'd say they were most overwhelmingly pop, but with large lashings of postpunk sensibility. So poppostpunk, perhaps? This track, though appropriate for the theme, was never my favourite of theirs, as methinks it sails a bit too far into the syrupy seas of mawkish melodrama. But there are plenty more tracks to possibly post at a later date...

? and the Mysterians - 96 Tears (buy here)
Yes, a well-worn standard, but this is truly terrific 60s garage stuff. And don't forget that the Mysterians were one of the first Latino rock groups to make it big. But pity poor Question Mark himself, whose Michigan house burned down in 2007, taking with it his collection ofrock memorabilia, four Yorkshire terriers, and a cockatoo. I bet he shed more than 96 tears over that. Sorry, that last comment was utterly tasteless. So go out there and buy some of the man's albums, willya??

Fabienne Delsol - Mr Mystery (buy here or e-here)
And speaking of garage rock, here's a faaabulous slice of the stuff, dripping with retro girl group vocals. In 1996 the young Mademoiselle Fabienne Delsol crossed the English Channel and hooked up with a couple or rosbifs to form The Bristols. The band released a couple of albums on the stonkingly good Damaged Goods label before splitting up in 2003. Thankfully Fabienne decided to continue on solo.

Orouni - The Perfume Conspiracy (buy here)
I can't recall how this ended up in my collection; indeed, I only rediscovered it when trawling for potential podcast contributions. And so very thrilled I am to remake its acquaintance! It is lovely, lilting, and lifting, tremulous, touching, and twee. In other words, perfect summer fare. Orouni himself is a quirky Parisian musician, but it seems his name has expanded to encompass a shifting collective of the like-minded. I have no idea who is singing on this lovely track, but she melts my heart and pours it into an tiny, art deco perfume bottle. Sigh.

For next week, Contrast Podcast is looking for songs whose titles are questions. Want to contribute? Find out how to over here.

A Letter To Billy Bragg

Billy Bragg, St Andrew's Wesley Church, Vancouver BC, 5 June 2008

Photo by Richelle Akimow

Dear Billy,

I've been wanting to write to you for a while now, but couldn't get past the idea that it would be a bit of a daft, fanboy thing to do. But after seeing you this past Friday at St Andrews Wesley Church in Vancouver, I figured it really was time to put (virtual) pen to (virtual) paper. The only complication is that I also decided to make this a blog post, so goodness knows what sort of a mess it will turn out to be. I've got the dustpan and rubber gloves ready, just in case.

I was a bit taken aback upon seeing the logo on the sleeve of the t-shirt I bought after the show: "Life's Still A Riot 1983 - 2008." Has it REALLY been twenty-five years? I suppose it has, and I suppose it was just under a quarter-century ago that I first heard "A New England" hometaped onto a C90 by a mate. Discovering your music was as significant to me as seeing The Clash at the 1978 London Rock Against Racism gig was to you. You see, I was the "Saturday Boy" and though I knew the meaning of "unrequited," I couldn't articulate its feeling as you did. And in so doing, you helped a hormonal, teenage FiL cope. On the political front, the short, sharp shocks of "To Have And To Have Not," "It Says Here,and "Like Soldiers Do" helped channel my roiling ideological waters. You see, I was actually a rather conservative lad, but your thoughtful lyrics and kerranging gee-tarr helped convince me to tear up my Reaganjugend membership card. I'm happy to report that I'm now a staunch liberal (with a small 'l'), who cries in front of the TV.

I think I've seen you in concert five times now, which ties you with The Ramones for first place in the "Popular Beat Combos FiL Has Seen The Most Times" sweepstakes. So congratulations on that achievement; you must be very proud. The first time I saw you play was November 1986 at the 9:30 Club in Washington, D.C. I clearly remember sitting right up against the stage by your feet, much like the youngsters did last Friday (this time I was in the sixth row of pews, on the left, natch). I was thrilled that night when you joshingly rebuked us "fucking New Yorkers" for singing too loudly. That was the first time I experienced your fantastic gift of making everyone in the audience feel like you've come along just to hang out with them. Like the lad lying in the aisle between the pews, the one you nicknamed "Lazarus" and on whose state of life or death you commented throughout the show.

Indeed, I've always admired your ability to connect, and to share your vulnerability. Though let me make it clear that you're not the "tuneless bastard" you claimed to be while quaffing Throat Coat tea in the cold confines of the church. When you finally got through "Price I Pay" after wrestling with the capo, I think the applause was of admiration and not relief, as you suggested. With Billy Bragg, what you see/hear is what you get. He does exactly what it says on the tin. No artificial sweeteners or preservatives. You get the crunchy with the smooth. And it's all delicious.

I was struck by the nifty mix of folks who showed up to the church on Friday: hipsters and hippies, pre-adolescents and pensioners, and loads inbetween. At one point I spied a few rows ahead of me a rather rotund, balding man in his sixties nodding and shaking his head with vigour and abandon while you played. I guess he was pew moshing. Then there were the kooky-kool kids dancing in the aisles to "World Turned Upside Down." They impressed me; I never managed to figure out how to boogie to that particular tune. I must admit to myself that I fall into (the young end of) that group of oldies you mentioned; you know, the ones whose grandkids will put "White Man In Hammersmith Palais" or The Specials on the gramophone, just to see Nan and Grandpa do their funny dancing. As an aside, now I'll never be able to listen to The Specials without snorting with laughter while visualizing you doing that creaky, decrepit skank you did. Cheers for that, mate. No, really.

More than anything, Friday night reminded me that your songs are at their most potent when they are infused with the passion and feeling of you playing them live. Every tune was a stunner, even the ones that on vinyl/CD/mp3 don't move me as much as the others. In particular, "The Space Race Is Over" has never been in my top ten, but on Friday I found it utterly heartwarming. And then there was "I Keep Faith," which I am ashamed to say I didn't even recognize as yours when I first heard it played on CBC Radio some months back. But hearing it performed live with such commitment and fervour was electrifying. As for my favourites (i.e. all the rest), well, I thought I had died and gone to heaven with you and Johnny C(l)ash. I think "Waiting For The Great Leap Forward" has become my favourite live song, not least because each time I've seen you perform it it has been tweaked to be bang-up-to-date. Smart bombs in the hands of dumb people scare me too. And I thought singing the late Kirsty MacColl's stanzas during "A New England" was a wonderfully kind tribute

It has been fascinating to watch you, through listening to your music, grow from angry young firebrand into someone exploring the complexities of life, love, politics, and what it means to be human. Each time I have checked in with you over the past twenty-five years, I've found something in your journey that has resonated in mine. I know that becoming a father has been a profound influence on you, as it has on me. When my Dearest Daughter was born, I found myself singing "I Don't Need This Pressure, Ron" to soothe her to sleep. Why that song? Well, because a) I knew all the words, b) "Anarchy In The UK" seemed inappropriate, and c) I was sick and tired of singing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Bloody Star" over and over. And you know what, it worked like a charm. It did too for my second-born, Little Man. Indeed, both children refer to it now as "The Banging Song" (after the first line, "What was that bang...") and I still sing it when emotions flare and calming is needed.

But in the end what I am most grateful to you for is your inspiration. Every time I have seen you perform live, I have walked out of the venue feeling re-energized, with my cynicism and apathy left stuffed in a wastebin by the exit. And this time was no different. Probably what galvanized me most was the storming "Old Clash Fan Fight Song" and the story of how a skronky rental amp, with it's sole setting of "First Clash Album," led you to the epiphany of that righteous song's creation. Thank you for reminding me that the world is indeed full of possibilities that we can, and indeed need to seize. Thank you for keeping faith, and for helping me to keep mine. Indeed, thank you for everything.

Yours faithfully,

FiL

P.S. You were right - it's on You Tube already. See below...

Billy Bragg - Old Clash Fan Fight Song [live @ SxSW 2008] (buy the 7-inch here)

Billy Bragg - I Keep Faith [live @ SxSW 2008] (buy the new album here or here)

In the Back of the Van

Ladyhawke herself

On the surface it didn't seem like my kind of thing. Not at all. But because Quinn admitted to blowing it out his speakers con mucho gusto, I thought I'd give it a try.

Well,, wrap me in spandex and tease my hair into a Heather Locklear mane. It's brilliant.

It starts of with a bit of Van Haleny, Jump-esque synth. Then it adds a thump-thump-thumpy beat circa 1979. Then about thirty seconds in Stevie Nicks starts to sing. Well, it's not really Stevie Nicks, but Ladyhawke, who sounds uncannily like that seventies boho icon. And there's not a whiff of a post-modern, aren't-we-so-clever attitude. So by rights I should have rolled my eyes, shaken my head, and chortled knowingly into my sleeve.

But I didn't. I danced. Then on the next play I sang along. "You set me on / You set me on / You Set me on fye-yuuuh!"

Pure, unashamed, guilt-free fun, fun, FUN!!

Ladyhawke - Back of the Van (not sure there's anything for sale - yet...)

And the video - gadzooks!! More of the same sparkly, swirly, 70s-80s mish-mosh. With dry ice too. It's all SOOO BLOODY GORGEOUS!!!



I'm off for several days on a business conference junket over here. I will try to stay in touch, but in the interim, Dearest Friends, behave yourselves (well or poorly, I don't mind which).

Air Guitar 2008

Darling Daughter informed me yesterday that her school will shortly be holding its annual air band competition. Apparently each year this event is assigned a theme and a list of eligible songs is furnished to all the wannabee axe heroes/heroines.

And the theme this year?

The eighties.

I just about withered and died of old age when I heard that.

After recovering from my sudden and rapid decrepitude, I discovered that my street cred with Darling Daughter was increasing as I recognized and provided

both artist and useless facts to flesh out the names of their potential performance pieces. The menu included such hoary old chestnuts as The Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go," Kenny Loggins' "Footloose," and Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." The last of these ended up being chosen by

my progeny and her gang of Grade 3 grrlz, primarily because of the title. At least it wasn't "Footloose."

But it got me thinking: if I had my druthers, what other eighties tracks would I put on the airband list? As I pondered, I realized this could get tricky; after all, cool as it might be to stick "Debaser"on there, Daddy FiL winced slightly at the thought of 7-year-olds miming along to "Got me a razor / Aaah haaa haaa haaah / Slicing up eyeballs..." You see my point. Anyway, below are a few ditties that I thought might fit the bill. And I would be most interested to hear your suggestions...

Adam & The Ants - Antmusic (buy here)
Oh my, this is just fun, fun, FUN swimming in a pool of edgy, pop sensibility.

Siouxsie & The Banshees - Christine (buy here)
Coz it's never too early to get your kids into goth, especially when it involves banana split ladies and turtles.

The Brilliant Corners - Teenage (buy here)
The eighties weren't all big shoulder pads, Madge, and synthopop, you know. But I'm pretty sure Miss Teacher didn't have this sort of C86 thing in mind. It might also be a bit precocious and hormonal for the bairns, but it does have a fat, charmingly innocent streak running right down its middle. Aw, bless, it's lovely.

In other news, this week's Contrast Podcast is now out and it slaps you right in the face with a halibut-sized serving of the best choonz of 2008 (so far). Given the excellent taste of the CP Nation, you can be sure that what's on offer is indeed among The Best of the year. You can download the podcast here and fawn over the music here. In case you want to look before committing to download (I don't know, kids these days) here's what's what:

(00:00) Flight of the Conchords - All the ladies of the world
Tim from The face of today

(03:05) Royal Bangs - Cat swallow
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus

(07:45) These Modern Socks - Where I came from
Linda from Speed of dark

(14:14) Japandroids - No Allegiance to the Queen
FiL from Pogoagogo

(21:47) The Cure - The only one
Adam

(26:24) DeVotchKa - The clockwise witness
Marcy from Lost in your inbox

(31:14) The Weepies - Old coyote
Natalie from Mini-obs

(35:41) KaiserCartel - Okay
Duke of Straw from The Late Greats

(39:31) The Wedding Present - Spider-man on Hollywood
Jim from Quick Before it Melts

(42:48) Be Your Own Pet - Becky
Dirk from Sexy Loser

(46:45) Blind Melon - Wishing Well
Chip from Atomic Ned

(51:17) Counting Crows - Cowboys
James from Appetite For Distraction

(57:29) At the Stars - Forget
Andy from Circles of Concrete

(01:01:49) Stars - Take me to the riot
Miss Wired

(01:06:10) Religious Knives - The sun
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away

(01:12:27) Sun Kil Moon - Unlit hallway
Greer from A Sweet Unrest

I submitted the mighty Japandroids, about whom I posted here. What else did I consider? Not much - this track immediately suggested itself and kicked away any other contenders before they came to my attention. Actually, one other song was in the running, from Vancouver neo-shoegazers, Hinterland:

Hinterland - Detwiler Pavilion (buy here )
A catchy ditty about, of all things, obsessive-compulsive disorder. From the album Pan Pan Medico.

Next week we're back to sinning, so think thoughts of Greed and get submitting by following the instructions here.

Run Up That Hill

Today I come to you, Dearest Friends, with a request to do some good by helping someone else to do good. To generate karma, or mindful action. To do the right thing. I'm sure y'all will rise to the occasion...

One of our Vancouver friends, Dearest Michelle, is preparing to run her first full marathon: the the San Francisco Nike Women's Marathon in October of this year. Her primary motivation for doing such a daft thing is to raise money for the Canadian chapter of the The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS). The LLS fights cancers of the blood both by funding research and by providing support services to patients. Yep, it's an undisputed Fine Cause.

Now Michelle is an emergency nurse by training, so she's used to doing these sorts of medicky-shmedicky good deeds. Indeed, it were she and her upstanding orthopod husband who helped get a sozzled Santa back to his grotto last December and made sure he wouldn't drown in his own effluvia. But recently the wisdom of charity choice for the run became much clearer when her sister's husband was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a blood cancer for which there is currently no cure. He's gone through a round of chemotherapy, and had his first bone marrow transplant in March. So now it's personal.

Anyway, Dearest Friends, I implore you most sweetly to head over HERE, have a gander at the enchanting photo of Michelle and her most excellent dog, and (if you can find it in your hearts & wallets) make a wee donation. Her fundraising goal is $6,000 (gulp!), so every little, tiny bit helps. Tell her FiL sent you. Or not. Up to you. And you can leave her an encouraging comment below, even if you've no dosh to slosh her way.

On the off chance that you need some more enticement to support this worthy cause, then hopefully this themed pack of tracks will do the trick...

Blitz - Fight To Live (buy here or e-here)
Coz that's what it's all about, really. In-yer-face bolshiness. Oi Oi Oi!!

Thee Headcoatees - Run For Your Life (buy here or e-here)
A bit of garage grrrl power to spur things along.

Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers - Roadrunner (buy here)
Telling it like it is, in a proto-punk, golly-gee-willikers stylee.

Belle & Sebastian - The Loneliness of a Middle Distance Runner (buy here or e-here)
Scotland's finest troubadours of twee keep you going when you're about to hit the wall.

Camera Obscura - Marathon Not A Sprint (buy here or e-here)
Just in case it wasn't obvious, Traceyanne & Co make the point in a fey, strummy kinda way.

Placebo - Running Up That Hill (buy here)
Betcha there'll be a fair few hills in San Fran. Good thing we've got gothy little Brian Molko to help evryone get up them.

Max Romeo - Chase the Devil (buy here )
You get the metaphor, do you not? A masterpiece from Lee "Scratch" Perry's Ark...

A Flock of Seagulls - I Ran (buy here)
Or to be grammatically accurate, "she will have run." Seagulls. It's a growing-up-in-the-80s thang. And I have a soft spot for cold synth.

Cake - The Distance (buy here)
Oh yeah, she's going THA DISTANCE!! She's going FOR SPEED!!

Mötley Crüe - Too Fast For Love (buy here)
Nope, methinks the LA heavy metal glamsters got it wrong this time. Here it's about both speed AND a labour of love.

And if you don't offer your financial and/or moral support? Well then, your pets will desert you, you'll become scrofulous, you'll develop chronic halitosis, romance will be an eternal alien to you, children will run screaming at your approach, and you will find you have a socially debilitating fondness for Christopher Cross. Probably. Maybe. Perhaps I exaggerate.

Only Ones

Dearest Friends, I'm back! I hope you didn't forget about me during my absence. Sigh, it has been ages...

So, where have I been? To New York and back, yes, but elsewhere as well. To my pasts (plural intended) and back. And to those of my parents. And back to my Mother's present. And to her future.

It could have all gone so badly, but it didn't. In fact, it went quite well. It wasn't easy at times, but, yes, all went quite well. Largely because my three wishes were granted: compassion, calm, and a night out or two. Actually, compassion and calm get most of the credit.

But there's much to digest. And I've only just started.

But enough about me, and onto some music! I (belatedly) draw your attention to Contrast Podcast episode 111, for which the theme was Number Ones. Now the intention was to get folks to submit their favourite chart-topping songs, which many did. However, as is usual and wonderful about CP, some contributed songs somehow related to the number one. Like Dearest JC, who gave us a song about wee. You can download the podcast here, and this is what you'd be getting:

(00:00) Althea and Donna - Uptown top ranking
Tim from The face of today
(04:44) Little Peggy March - I will follow him
ZB from So the wind won’t blow it all away
(07:43) The Chemical Brothers - Block rockin’ beats
Chris from Phosphorous.net
(14:14) Herman’s Hermits - Mrs Brown you’ve got a lovely daughter
Natalie from Mini-obs
(17:38) Joan Jett - I love rock and roll
FiL from Pogoagogo
(23:29) Kanye West - Stronger
Bob from Gimme Tinnitus
(29:38) Julie London - One for my baby
Greer from A Sweet Unrest
(35:17) Billy Bragg - She’s leaving home
Adam
(39:12) The Wannadies - Piss on you
JC from The Vinyl Villain
(42:47) Jimmy Cross - I want my baby back
Mark from Cinema Du Lyon
(46:33) The Motors - Dancing the night away
Dirk from Sexy Loser
(52:32) Pearl Jam - Once
Brian Stoos
(57:03) Foo Fighters - The Pretender
James from Appetite For Distraction
(01:02:37) José González -Remain
Eiron from The S+7 Method

Now usually I'm pretty loose with my approach to the Contrast Podcast theme, but this week I decided to restrict myself to picking a number one from the American Billboard Top 100 charts. Why? Well, because the US is where I spent my adolescence and young adulthood, and I didn't want to get all esoteric and pick some alternative chart to plunder. Besides, I felt up for a challenge. Though the pickings were slim, I was delighted and proud to put forth Joan Jett as my submission.

I briefly considered picking from the WLIR Screamer of the Week archives. 92.7 WLIR was the radio station that pretty much defined my musical tastes as a callow youth. I spent many hours with it, finger on the "pause" button of my cassette deck as I waited to pounce and record choice tunes. It was something of an oddity; a commercial outfit based in suburban Long Island, its tagline was "New Music First" and it delivered it by the bucketload. New Order, The Jam, B-52s, Love & Rockets, Dead Kennedys, Ramones, The Beat, Billy Bragg, TheSmiths, The Cure, Orange Juice, and sooo much more. It was literally a spring of lifewater for me. And every week you got to vote for the best new song of the week - the Screamer. Though the station has had a storied, twisty history since I was a listener (including a three-month format change to "jazz/chill") WLIR continues to broadcast today on 107.5 FM. But anyway, this is what you might have gotten this week instead of Joan:

Comsat Angels - Will You Stay Tonight? (buy here, but only if you have $100 and a record player)
This is just lovely pop. Very much of its era, and a departure from the Sheffield combo's early post-punkness, but still simply lovely. Screamer on 3 September, 1983

Ministry - All Day (buy here)
Though Al Jourgensen cringes in disgust these days at the memory of Ministry's synth beginnings, I loved and still do love the cool, stark, vaguely glam-goth aura of the early stuff. Mind you, I like the bone-crushing, industrial incarnation as well. Screamer on 1 September, 1984.

I also considered submitting my favourite number one from the UK Top 40 chart. And you may be surprised by what it is. The song isn't my favourite chart-topper for musical reasons, but mainly because of its context. The track was released on 24 December, 1990, when Sir Cliff "Bloody Flippin' Heck" Richard was at number one with his dreadful caterwaul of a song, "Saviour's Day." The timing was cunning; the week after Christmas is traditionally the slowest selling month for singles in the UK, which allowed the disciplined hordes of Iron Maiden fans to rush out with their pocket money and propel "Bring Your Daughter To The Slaughter" straight into number one on 30 December, 1990. Who says there's no justice??

Iron Maiden - Bring Your Daughter To The Slaughter (buy here)

And finally, for one fleeting moment I gave thought to submitting Olivia Newton John's "(Let's Get) Physical." As I've admitted and previously, a pubescent FiL had the hots something baaad for this songstress back in 1981. Be thankful the moment was just fleeting. Yes, yes, I know I posted it before, but I'm going to do so again, if only for the memory of my younger self.

Olivia Newton John - Physical (buy here)

These days I far prefer the working-over that The Revolting Cocks (Al "Ministry" Jourgensen's side project) gave the song in 1989. Originally it was going to be a pure cover, but after threats from Olivia's lawyers, they reinterpreted it. Imagine that, the RevCo boys cowering before ONJ. Who'da thunk it?? Again, I've posted this before, but in case you missed it:

Revolting Cocks - (Let's Get) Physical (buy here)

And finally, since we're talking about RevCo and covers, I simply adore their skanky cover of Rod Stewart's "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" So I'm going to post it and the accompanying skeeeery, skeezy video right here. Just 'cos I love you all.

It's good to be back!!

Revolting Cocks - Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? (buy here)

Wings and Prayers

The view from 26F, AC 548, somewhere over Canada
3 May 2008.

Dearest Friends, I didn't mean to skip out on you like that. No, really, I didn't. But things got hectic, time got slippery, and it all slid out of my hands like a greased eel...

I'm in New York, you see, and will be for the rest of the week, helping Mother prepare for her move.

I'm trying to keep my expectations simple. So I'm only asking for three things:

Compassion to dilute anger.

Calm in the face of destructive emotions.

And just one night when I can f'ing tie it on and rip up the city.

Oops, don't think that last one's in the dharma.

So, Dearest Friends, until we meet again, here are three random New-Yorky songs. Make of the selection what you will, but I hope you will enjoy them.

The Moldy Peaches - NYC's Like A Graveyard (buy here or e-here)
Johnny Thunders & The Heartbreakers - Born To Loose (buy here)
New York Dolls - Jet Boy (buy here)

P.S. Contrast Podcast is out tomorrow, showcasing songs with talky bits in them. Do drop by to see what's on offer. And following on from last week's episode about the deadly sin of sloth, this one's for Dearest Marcy, specially by request:

The Orchids - Striving for the Lazy Perfection (buy here or e-here)