I was going to say “the day that satire died”… but that’s long gone.
I didn’t know this. I’m not a fan, but I like his old stuff. Perhaps he was hard up, but who cares? Sounds like he’s properly happy to be taking tea with the tillerman again.
Clearly not builder’s tea. Or Cadbury’s Highlights.
Would it be:
1. Spring rain 2. Angel’s tears. 3. Methadone
OK gang, I know we did this a few years ago but that was a few years ago. Things move on, new stuff gets made, time passes, Pinkerton does not return.
Here is a summary of my requirements.
1. Sound quality obvs. Fat kicks, sweet strings, everything between, I wanna hear – and feel – the lot.
2. Less than two hundred sovs please. I know this is the Afterword but I live in Hull FFS, it’s a different economy here.
3. Durability. I’m a klutz with a big head and fat fingers. As little plastic as possible.
4. Detachable cable. See 3.
5. Limited sound-leakage would be nice. Not essential though.
6. I won’t be wearing them in the street. I don’t care what they look like. (Come to think of it, I go out in the street and I don’t much care what I look like either)
7. Wireless would be nice but again not a dealbreaker.
Landscape’s “The Hell Holes of Your Anus” album is a brilliant piece of work, containing as it does more musical invention than most artists have in their entire catalogues. Hidden away on side 1 is something called Sisters. I’ve always thought of it as the theme tune to a TV show about a pair of feisty crimefighting nuns.
Do you have any tunes/bits of music that are basically theme-tunes in waiting?
Picture the scene – Monday morning – grey, windy, and I’m arriving at work. The building where I work is of an architectural grimness that Eric Honecker would have approved and is in a particularly scuzzy, litter-blown part of town. That town being Hull, by the way. On a Monday morning.
So when the jaunty, hippy-dippy Marrakesh Express came up on my shuffle, I actually laughed at the magnificently absurd incongruity. So it was that I arrived at work with a smile on my face thanks to Graham and his hairy chums.
Any occasions when shuffle has done something inappropriate in your life? Stopped by the cops and NWA comes on just as you’re rolling down your window? Amuse me.
Onlookers in London’s busy Holborn district at around 12.30pm today were bemused by the sight of a podgy, wild-eyed man tearing across two lanes of traffic towards Richer Sounds, where * he burst in and roared in a voice like thunder, “Bring me the cheapest earbuds in the shop! This is an emergency!!”
Cool under pressure, the young man behind the counter turned to his assistant and said, “You heard the man. Code red!”
….yep. that was me (the fat bloke, not the two guys with proper jobs, natch). My earbuds had died somewhere on the Euston Road and I had to snatch ten minutes in my lunch break to replace them as quickly and cheaply as possible, lest I face the unimaginable horror of a 3+ hour train journey home without music.
What have been your musical emergencies?
Here’s a clip of Hard-Fi… sorry, 999 to give you thinking time.
I’m having a problem with Opera browser. Every time I put my laptop on in the morning Opera has vanished and I have to reinstall the bastard. This has been happening for the last four days. Wot gives?
With this knowledge I can become an Olympian!!
Wass ist das?
5.1 mixes? Any ideas?
…and, like everything else in the world these days, it’s on blimmin’ Parlophone!
Friend of mine messaged me yesterday to say he’d just seen of our mutual heroes, Bernard Butler, on the tube.
This seems subtly wrong to me. Brett Anderson is okay using the underground, certainly in his sickly mid-90s Death of Chatterton mode anyway, but the Bernster should be flying a matt-black helicopter to a secret compound in the mountains, not sharing a DLR with the great unwashed.
Any other instances of seeing famous people on the Clapham Omnibus, the last train to Auchenshuggle and the like?
Inspired by an exchange about Bragg on one of @markg ‘s threads recently and the even more recent “bad entry points” thread, what about some great songs that are magnificently atypical?
While the Billster’s vocal is unmistakable, the overall style and production of this track is unique in his canon as far as I can tell.
…and assume that you were trolling/taking the piss.
…of the “Never Let Me Down is Bowie’s best album” variety.
Here’s one of mine:
Much as I like the Pixies, none of their albums give me as much pleasure as Frank Black’s Teenager of the Year.
Think I’ll start with this…
To me it was a marginally above average British TV drama… slightly silly and implausible… Hugh Laurie as a cartoon capitalist villain… oh look there’s Tom Hollander and Olivia Colman yet again…. certainly not worth a second look – in fact the location filming basically made it seem like a hardback version of Death in Paradise. But ever since it was on, the BBC website have been referring to it as pretty much the greatest drama in the history of television. Whah?
Culminating in this utterly bizarre item on the BBC News website which lays all editorial balance aside to claim that Bafta’s nominations are “baffling” in excluding TNM. “Look! Tom Hiddleston! Hugh Laurie!! People have heard of these actors in America!!“
The assumption that this is based on, ie that British TV – particularly BBC Drama involving posh actors – is the greatest in the world, is twenty years out of date. It’s as out of touch as BBC1’s insistence that Gary Baaaalow is regarded as a national treasure – another meeting I certainly missed.
I know the BBC has to big itself up in these harsh times, but equally sometimes they need to come out of their silo » Continue Reading.
Girl uses a playlist to dump her boyfriend. In my day you did mixtapes at the start of a relationship (or something you hoped would become one)
Given that one of the songs is by Ed Sheeran, I think he’s had a narrow escape.
Now that the dust has settled, I’m in the market for some highlights from the Zimster’s monster Live 1966 set. I have absolutely no intention of trawling through the whole lot so would ideally like to hear about one to two hours of what’s worth hearing more than once, bearing in mind that I already have the Free Trade Hall set.
Also, I would like someone to do my job for me tomorrow while I stay in bed.
And the moon on a stick would be nice, if it’s not too much trouble.
So over in Nigeria, the great King Sunny Ade has been appointed Change Begins With Me Ambassador by the government. Intriguingly this is partly because “has reigned in the music industry for over 50 years without blemish”. I suspect “blemish” doesn’t mean “ill-advised bluegrass album” in Nigeria. I’ll leave it at that, though.
Who from the UK music “scene” should be nominated as our Change Begins With Me Ambassador?
I bet you’ve got some a-ha-ha-ha HILARIOUS suggestions!!
(….kill me now)
Rough sods, pop stars.
Sometimes they hit you at the top of an album with a pair of songs so breathtaking that the rest of the record could consist of the sound of someone eating mint jelly and you wouldn’t notice.
One such example is 16 Lovers Lane by the Go-Betweens, which is a great album through and through, but the first two tracks are absolutely staggering when heard one after the other. Here’s number one:
Mrs Moose is, as you will imagine, a very patient and long-suffering woman.
There are many, terrible reasons why this is true, some of which are too awful for you to contemplate, but my taste in music is one of them. Actually she positively likes a good 80% of the music I do. Another 15% she tolerates. Then there is the 5% which she will tell me to turn off.
Today a thankfully rare instance of this came up, about seven minutes into this jolly wee ditty.
What is your partner’s musical breaking point?
Not that it makes any difference to old cloth-ears here, but I’d be interested to know what y’all think are the best remasterings – particularly in the light of the late, unlamented Loudness Wars* and the fact that there are now many competing anniversary editions of many of the albums we hold dear.
You may want to use the words “Steven” and “Wilson” in your answers.
(*In my house this is what happened when Mrs M and I both started taking statins, Parrrp!)
Got any stories about Mick Ronson?
These folks would like to hear from you. Turn and Face the Strange is a Hull 2017 project by the Centre for Contemporary Storytelling about Rock’s greatest Hullensian, starting with a “story gathering session” this Saturday 11th, with a launch event next Friday 17th, leading up to a big multimedia show in the summer – “Mick Ronson Is…”, in effect. It’s all on the FB page (hope the link works)
I think the intention is to focus on his Hull beginnings rather than his (presumably heavily documented) post-1971 life, but I’m sure if any of y’all have personal memories it’ll all be grist to the mill.
Here’s some Southern poof talking about Mick…
Earlier today I made a joke about the Bee Gees (aka The Artists Formerly Known as Les Tosseurs) which fell on deaf eyes. Yesterday I made a jokey reference to Ayers Rock so obscure that even I would struggle to explain it to myself.
Last weekend we were at a friend’s house. Mrs Moose noticed in the hallway what later turned out to be a modern (rubber) hula-hoop, and I told her that it was a spare tyre for a penny-farthing.
The stoniest of ground!
This happens all the time… could it be that my jokes fail because my imagined audience is basically me and the people I knew at college when I was seventeen (who were, as you might imagine, a bunch of drunken wazzocks)?
Could it be that a joke that you have to explain in infinitesimal detail just isn’t a good joke?
… or am I just too good for you all?
Whatever, deposit your failed jokes here and let’s have a good laugh. Maybe.