I have a backlog of things I want to blog about, including a couple of things I have been sent, so I'm attempting to clear it whilst procrastinating from proper work. Two birds with one stone.
First of all, watching 'The Science of Sleep' for the first time last week prompted me to reinvestigate Michel Gondry's other masterpiece, 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind', and more specifically Jon Brion's sumptuous soundtrack.
If you have seen the film, listening to the score brings back all the emotions of the crazy, dream like plot and the beautiful images Gondry creates are echoed in the music.
Brion composed most of the piano-led score, but Don Nelson, Beck and ELO also add fitting contributions. It's closest in tone to the Terry Davies' soundtrack to Matthew Bourne's stunning ballet/musical/drama Play Without Words, which amazingly is not yet on youtube. So you see, the internet doesn't know everything.
Sometimes you get the feeling that certain artists just fit together - Lennon and McCartney, PJ and Duncan, Daphne and Celeste....I think Gondry and Brion deserve to join that illustrious group.
I could post mp3s of the whole album, it really is that good. But the Lars Ulrich might have something to say about that.
I wrote this back in June and it has been published in the October edition of Sandman Magazine.
As the dust settles on the farewell binge and all we're left with is blu-tac stained walls and awkward man-hugs, the time has come to reflect on three years as a student in Hull. Like the majority of wide-eyed, fresh faced first years, I arrived at the halls of residence carrying boxes overflowing with CDs (these were the olden days, before mp3s made music less of an object and more of a concept), and quickly found likeminded pals with whom to share the journey.
Living a bus ride away from civilisation in Cottingham meant that our exposure to the local music scene was limited in the first few months. We had a few outings to Asylum, the campus nightclub, where an early incarnation of Turismo was struggling against the horrific sound system, along with the likes of 59 Violets and The Blue Slide Circle. However, our regular gig haunt came from an unlikely source - The King William IV pub on Cottingham High Street. Every Wednesday, Mike and Danny from The Bonnitts would host an open mic night in the backroom, and a handful of scruffy indie kids - yours truly included - would bang out classic covers from Erasure to the Eagles, competing manfully against the pool tables and televised football. It was a bizarre introduction to the Hull scene, but remains an enduring memory of life as a fresher.
Making the move up to Beverley Road for the University equivalent of the difficult second album, I encountered an unopened wardrobe of musical goodies, leading to the enchanted forest of magical sounds and, er, overly elaborate metaphors. The Adelphi inevitably became my temple of worship, introducing me to local bands such as The Holy Orders, Alison Angus and Fonda 500, all of whom I have followed with both journalistic professionalism and unabashed hysterical fandom. The Lamp also quickly became a perennial favourite, the Sidekicks Lounge on Wednesday nights hosting some of the best gigs of my time here, including James Yorkston, Analogue Consumption, Park and Ride and exciting new Grimsby talents The Brightlights. There has been widespread criticism of Hull's inability to attract the biggest names of the moment, whoever they may be, but quality often outshines reputation and you'd struggle to find a more consistent line-up for sheer variety of style.
One of the biggest parts of my Hull experience has been the excitement surrounding the regular visits of out of town acts, particularly those from across the pond in the U.S.A. I have seen Thomas Truax three times at The Adelphi, and each time have been reminded of his sparkling unpredictability. Dufus [video below], Danielson and the ear-splitting Melt Banana will stay with me for a long time, and the legendary Jeffrey Lewis was as thought-provoking and witty as he is on record. When speaking to international jet-setting groups for whom this is just another stop on a lengthy tour, they all speak fondly of Yorkshire, and many of them are very aware of the musical history of the place. Long may Hull continue to attract such unique international artists.
I feel that this recollection of the live music that shaped my student life would not be complete without discussing the open mic scene around Hull. I have already mentioned my humble baptism in The King Billy, but closer to the city centre there is so much more on offer. The Sanctuary's regular slot, started by the newly formed band society in 2006, was too often doomed by lack of publicity from the student union, but when it clicked it really did showcase some of the best talent the student community had to offer. It's a similar story at Sleepers on Newland Avenue, which regularly attracts quality artists without reaching out too far beyond its comfort zone. The daddy of all open mic experiences is, of course, Monday night at The Adelphi. A free-for-all forum for all shapes and sizes, acts range from four-chord Fratellis clones to the sonic soundscape experiments of Misshapen Lodge and the technically brilliant love songs of Phil Wilson, a.k.a MyOneManBand. The Adelphi boss Paul Jackson does a tremendous job, not only providing such a prestigious platform for young musicians to perform, but also offering an encouraging word both to the regulars and the new faces. If you haven't tried it yet, give it a go.
Over the past 18 months of writing for Sandman, I have heard a wide range of opinions on the Hull music scene, and now seems as good a time as any to offer my own thoughts. To put it bluntly, the place is thriving - it just needs more people to realise it. The size of the crowds at the majority of local gigs simply doesn't do justice to the supreme wealth of talent on display. Nights such as The Gig That Exploded, The Sidekicks Lounge and The Sesh will be in danger of dying out if they don't get the support they deserve. 'You're preaching to the converted,' I hear you cry, so I'll bid you farewell for now. Thanks for the memories Hull. It's been anything but dull.
Charlotte Gainsbourg is one of those people you've always been aware of, but you never knew it until now.
You'll know her father Serge from his saucy and slightly pervy 1969 duet with Jane Birkin on 'Je T'aime...moi non plus'.
Madonna fans will know her from the sultry spoken-word intro to 'What It Feels Like For a Girl'.
You might even know her from Michel Gondry's surreal 2006 film,The Science of Sleep, among many other movies.
But it is her music that has propelled London-born, Paris-raised Gainsbourg into the consciousness of the hipster masses of late.
Her debut album, 5.55, (discounting an ill advised father-daughter debut in 1986) is a beautiful piece of work. With music by Air and lyrics by Jarvis Cocker, it's a dream come true for geeky, romantic francophiles.
The songs are floaty, seductive numbers, but with a bit of an edge thrown in. That's as far as my description can stretch, so enjoy for yourself.
I spent all my punning energy on that Joanna Newsom line.
Anyway while we're on the subject of 'anti-folk' heroes, Jeffrey Lewis is a guy who seems to continually slip under radar of the 'popular' music scene, whatever that is.
This week he released his 21st album, which is pretty impressive for a 31 year old. In fact, it's 0.67 albums per year of his life. Radiohead took 5 years and 4 months over their last album. That's right, I couldn't go a week without mentioning them.
Lewis' new album is called '12 Crass Songs', a collection of covers of songs by legendary punk band Crass. It's a strange choice given Lewis' incredible gift for writing songs of his own, but it really works.
At times he can soung like a genius capturing the zeitgeist of alternative underground New York life. Other times he can seem like the crazy old man on the corner ranting and raving about how things ain't what they used to be.
Either way, he's developed an unrecognisable style, and while the new album lacks some of the idiosyncracies of records like 'The Last Time I Did Acid I Went Insane' and 'It's The Ones Who've Cracked That The Light Shines Through', he's still flying the flag for prolific individual punk folk.
This week Ani Difranco released her 'retrospective', 'Canon'. It charts her 20 year-long journey of making music.
Unlike many 'best of' collections, it's not just a hastily assembled bunch of tracks taken from random parts of the artist's career.
The re-imaginings of classics like 'Both Hands' and 'Overlap' give a whole new meaning to these songs. Alanis Morrisette, Lauren Hill and others have done this before, re-recording old songs and breathing new life into them. It's an interesting idea, and much better than bashing out the same old stuff that all the fans know anyway.
Oh and she's playing at Shepherd's Bush Empire next Sunday, so if anyone would be kind enough to ask her to move the gig to a day I can make and buy me a ticket that would be super.
The world and his wife did a collective poo this morning as Radiohead's 'In Rainbows' hit inboxes around the world. You know my thoughts on the band - added to the fact that everyone else has already blogged their reviews [see Alex Petridis' 5 star review] - but here are some words after my first listen.
First of all, it's good. It's kind of unfair to compare Radiohead's albums, because they change with every release, but initially I reckon its definitely better than Hail to the Thief. As Petridis says, Thom Yorke's gimmicky, petulant, word-playing lyrics have largely disappeared, to be replaced with subtle phrases which hint at emotions. This was always his strong point.
Highlights for me are Nude, All I Need, Faust Arp and Jigsaw Falling Into Place. What is really fascinating about this record is that despite the uniqueness of everyone receiving it at the same time, the majority of Radiohead fans come to it knowing 8 out of the 10 songs from the live tour last year. Nude has been a fan favourite since before OK Computer, when it was titled 'Big Ideas', but they have completely changed it around. The bass takes centre stage, but they've filled it out with beautiful strings, remeniscent of How To Disappear Completely from Kid A.
All I Need does what nobody expects Radiohead to do - sound cheerful and life affirming. Their best songs - 'Lucky', 'The Tourist', 'Street Spirit' - are all gloriously positive songs. They may not be lyrically optimistic, but the music lifts you a higher place [excuse the pretentious wankery.] Faust Arp is exciting simply because it's a brand new song, and initially sounds a bike like Elliott Smith.
Jigsaw Falling Into Place, formerly titled 'Open Pick', was my favourite song from the 2006 tour. It's urgent, and the crescendo to the final 'You've got a light and you can feel it on your back' is brilliant. One thing everyone seems to have identified is the drums - they're really noticeable. Phil Selway has always been one of the tightest, most innovative drummers around - see 'Morning Bell' from Kid A - and they do more than hold the songs together here.
There are inevitably some disappointments. For me, 'Bodysnatchers' sounds cluttered and bass-heavy. 'Arpeggi' is not quite as dreamy as it was live. And Videotape is nowhere near as good as it could have been. I think Thom's vocals could use a bit more reverb - he didn't use any on The Eraser, but Radiohead songs suit echoey vocals more.
However, my verdict after 1 listen is that it's a very good album, understated, beautiful and minimal. It's far from the complexities of 'Paranoid Android' and the experiments of Amnesiac, the songs are tighter constructed, there are only 10 of them, and there is very little flab here. The title 'In Rainbows' suddenly seems quite fitting - the album has moments of rain and sun, combining to make pretty colours in the sky.
So there. I'll shut up about them for 5 years or so now. We await the pitchfork review, and roll on LP8.
UPDATE: I gave it a 2nd listen. and a third. and a fourth. and a fifth. I feel like a child at the end of Christmas day who has over-played with his new toy and is now tired and smashy.
Every so often I come across a subject on which I feel compelled to write. This is an example.
Comedy has, to put it lightly, a chequered past in terms of political correctness. In the 1970s, English comedian Bernard Manning became popular for his style of comedy which involved jokes about ethnic stereotypes and minority groups. He was effectively gradually exiled from TV appearances before his death last year.
Since then, we have had Jim Davison, Roy 'Chubby' Brown and, more recently, Michael Richards making a living out of telling jokes about people of different religion, race or creed to them. More on this later.
One of Bernard Manning's most famous quotes is: "I tell jokes. You never take a joke seriously. We have to tell jokes about everything and everyone." It's a motto which may well be employed by the newest 'star' of the comedy world, Sarah Silverman.
I had only heard Silverman's name in passing before coming across an article about her in Saturday's Guardian newspaper. If necessary, you can get a clear, and much better written picture of her personality and upbringing from Katie Puckrick's largely partisan piece.
Having read the article, in which Puckrick quotes a couple of Silverman's most shocking 'jokes', I felt compelled to visit youtube and check out her stand-up for myself.
You can make up your own mind about it (the video follows this post).
Silverman reels off a tirade of astonishingly crude, tastless jokes, seemingly experimenting with just how far she can go. "I love how Palestinians and Jews hate each other," she says. "It's so cute. Honestly, what's the difference? They're brown. They have an odour. It's like sweet potatoes hating yams."
She goes on to talk about how the most precious diamond in the world can only be found on the tailbone of Ethiopian babies who are de-boned in order to attain the jewel, and it is "so worth it."
You name the taboo, Silverman dives right in and attacks it head on.
In the Guardian interview, she is quizzed on the controversy surrounding her racist material. She implies, somewhat limply, that anyone who does not understand the irony of her statements simply does not understand the humour.
There are many comedians who play racist, bigoted, prejudiced characters or personas. The key to it all, however, is that the audience should always be able to tell where the line is. If a comedian is making a comment on society, making us laugh and then making us feel shame and question our morals, this is often a clever piece of social commentary. Anyone who has seen Pip Utton's superb 'Adolf' will understand this incredible feeling.
Questioned further, Silverman would probably argue that her onstage persona of 'Sarah', who she plays in her new TV show 'The Sarah Silverman Show', is not her. It is an extreme version of the views of society which are stifled by political correctness. I would argue, however, that the aim of the comedian does not make a lot of difference. To me, all Silverman is doing is standing in front of a microphone and telling racist jokes.
Bernard Manning, Jim Davison, Roy 'Chubby' Brown and co are frowned upon nowadays. They are considered to be bad memories of bygone era when these kind of jokes were ok. We are supposed to live in a tolerant, multi-cultural society of intelligent individuals. To me, what Silverman is doing is not very far removed from these guys. It is not just her, either. There is a worrying trend in the comedy of Ricky Gervais, Chris Rock and others who come onstage as themselves and say things which make the audience's jaws drop. Their defence is that it's 'ironic'. It doesn't wash with me.
There are the inevitable comments to accompany the youtube video, which sum up the counter argument: "You don't have to like her, but calling her a racist makes you sound like an idiot"; "She's making fun of racism. That's what makes it a joke. It wouldn't be a joke if she were just saying racist things"; and " I just love how she can make everyone with an IQ over 70 laugh and make everyone else get angry and call her racist."
Silverman has the last word, as is her wont: "I'm not afraid to say something if I think it's funny, even if it's harsh or racist," she says. "I really think everything is fair game". Look at that Bernard Manning quote again.
Are we going backwards?
p.s for more not at all libellous or defamatory opinions go to http://www.theboydone.blogspot.com
It was May 1997, and my mother had just returned from the supermarket having purchased Radiohead's 'Ok Computer'.
That evening I put the CD on my dad's old 4-tray LP player and listened to it on big headphones. I hated it, and remember feeling really disappointed. Earlier in the week I had watched the band playing 'Paranoid Android' and 'No Surprises' on 'Later with Jools Holland' and having my tiny little mind blown. But the album was too experimental and wierd for my tastes. I was twelve, remember. I liked Oasis and The Bluetones.
A few months later, on November 15, I went to see Radiohead live at the Birmingham N.E.C. I remember this gig more clearly than any other. DJ Shadow was the support act, at a DJ booth in the middle of the arena and nobody knew who he was. I bought an 'OK Computer' t-shirt. They opened with 'Meeting in the Aisle' followed by 'Airbag', and closed with 'Fake Plastic Trees'. I couldn't believe what was happening.
I rediscovered their first two albums, 'Pablo Honey' and 'The Bends, but neither came anywhere near my new-found adoration and obsession with 'OK Computer'. The original CD still exists somewhere, the sleeve battered to oblivion, as does the t-shirt, similarly worn out.
It was an agonising 3 years before their next effort, 'Kid A'. I've never known hype like the hype that surrounded this release. I don't remember how I bought it, but I know that this was the last Radiohead album I bought in CD format and heard for the first time that way. Simpler times.
By the time 'Kid A' came out, my judgement of the band was blurred. I was dangerously obsessed, and I loved this record just because it was Radiohead. I had been following the online diaries kept by Ed O'Brien on the agonising recording process, and felt like I knew the songs inside out before I'd ever heard them.
Looking back, it is the most complex, beautiful and misunderstood album Radiohead have ever made. Listen to it on headphones in the dark with your eyes closed and no distractions, and you'll see what I mean. 'Everything in it's Right Place', 'The National Anthem', 'How to Disappear Completely' - fragile, terrifying, end-of-the-world pieces of music - it seems somehow trite to call them songs.
A second live experience followed, in a tent in a field in Warrington. 'Clinic' supported, but I don't remember very much about them. What I do remember is being quite far back, leaning on a railing listening to 'Motion Picture Soundtrack' closing the show. It was muddy, and I bought an official grey hoodie and a knock-off 'Kid A' t-shirt outside.
'Amnesiac' followed in summer 2001. I bought this album when I was revising for my 'AS' Levels, and was underwhelmed. Exciting as it was to have new material, this seemed like 'Kid A' outtakes to me, coming as it did from the same recording sessions. There are highlights - 'Pyramid Song', 'You and Whose Army', 'Like Spinning Plates' - but I think they went too far towards what a dissillusioned acquaintance once called 'electronic keyboard noodling'.
A period of quiet, and then a pirated copy 'Hail to the Thief' came through the post from a friend in Spring 2003, weeks before it was due to be released. Welcome to the modern age. I remember being very excited as I travelled to college with the disc on my portable cd player. It turned out to be an unmastered version of the album, which had been stolen from the studio and leaked onto the net.
I bought the record when it came out, and still don't really know what I think about it. It's their most disjointed album, and I don't think they knew what they wanted it to be. There are short, energetic, punky songs like '2+2=5', experimental 'noodling' on 'The Gloaming', and beautiful piano led ballads like 'Sail to the Moon'. 'A Wolf at the Door' is just rubbish, however.
I saw them live a third time on the 'Hail to the Thief' tour, at the Manchester Apollo. I was impressed with how tight they had become, how many more instruments they were using and Thom Yorke's vast stage presence. This is also the best venue I've seen them at.
A fourth gig followed quickly at Earl's Court in London, which I will always remember primarily for missing the last train back to Birmingham and standing outside Euston station all night in sub-zero December temperatures with wierdos stalking the streets.
'Hail to the Thief' could have been the end of Radiohead. They seemed to have reached the point where they didn't really know what to do next. They effectively broke up and reformed - something they seem to do after every album - and then Yorke returned with a solo album in 2006, entitled 'The Eraser'. It was an interesting diversion, no more. All it did for me was prove that Radiohead is more than just one man, talented and fascinating though he might be.
And so, we come to the present day. My fifth, and to date final Radiohead gig was in May 2006 at Wolverhampton Civic Hall, when they premiered songs which will be released next week on their 7th studio album, 'In Rainbows'.
It's hard to tell what the album will be like, despite the fact that most hardcore fans already have an intimate relationship with most of the songs. 'Arpeggi' is already in line to be the most beautiful song they've ever recorded. 'Videotape' likewise.
The discussion about the band choosing to release the album online for a voluntary donation is for another blog, in another world.
Apologies for the rambling. I'm sure it makes no sense whatsoever. My obsession grows, coupled with the fact that I am spending all day every day writing 120 word news stories about cats stuck in jars of marmite.
Meanwhile, we await the new record. Here are a few gems to tide you over.
This is a video of agonisingly short clips of the new songs:
All mp3's are posted for a short time and are for promotional purposes only. This is music I love and think you will too, so if you hear something you like, please support the artists. Buy their albums and go see them in concert. If you represent an artist featured on this site and would like your songs removed, please contact me at samblackledge@yahoo.com
