Peter Singer was on telly last night, walking round Vienna.
on this morning's free paper he's calling Cheney possibly evil.
he gets around!
much like silverdollarcircle at Glasto
have you seen the guardian is to change to 'berliner' size? sort of the half-way point between tabloid and broadsheet, so it's not going full tabloid like the other broadsheets, it's going for the European press approach, size of le monde. could be a winner.
White Sox bossed the Cubs.
bah.
Wednesday, 30 June 2004
public figure hear hear pt.1
Europe is not the exclusive club of a single religion
_George W. Bush.
public figure hear hear pt.2
just trial, a fair trial
_ Iyad Allawi on his plans for Saddam Hussein (one story, charges).
worth a shout:
Oliver on universal fascism -
Colin Powell may get his arse in gear
Europe is not the exclusive club of a single religion
_George W. Bush.
public figure hear hear pt.2
just trial, a fair trial
_ Iyad Allawi on his plans for Saddam Hussein (one story, charges).
worth a shout:
Oliver on universal fascism -
Colin Powell may get his arse in gear
Tuesday, 29 June 2004
OMites might be interested in the Phoenix Folk Club's
event this Thursday (1st July), which features classical
Indian violinist and sometime Martin Archer collaborator
Kamalbir Singh. Nice chance to hear music from a different
improvising tradition. See ...
phoenix.lowtech.org/
The gig is at the Sheffield Royal Society for the Blind
in Mappin Street, near the Red Deer and just off the Glossop
Road end of West Street. Doors open 7:30.
event this Thursday (1st July), which features classical
Indian violinist and sometime Martin Archer collaborator
Kamalbir Singh. Nice chance to hear music from a different
improvising tradition. See ...
phoenix.lowtech.org/
The gig is at the Sheffield Royal Society for the Blind
in Mappin Street, near the Red Deer and just off the Glossop
Road end of West Street. Doors open 7:30.
I suppose it’s ‘father ted’ that’s the best of the 90s fare. In recent years, ‘the league of gentlemen’, arguably the office (the first season is mos def better; although gareth’s attempts to chat up tim’s shagpiece are joyous), and of course ‘phoenix nights’ have carried the torch.
Overheard this morning in the lavatory two blokes chatting about “African brothels”, and last night in the pub two chaps discussing someone they used to know, a young man, who had just committed suicide at Strangeways (there’s a piece of manc ephemera for you…); one of them had seen him at another pub the last time he was out one Christmas, where he’d been asked if he had any gear. Heart-rending, all told (the pub we were in had put up a lovely commemorative mirror – and a nice bench outside – to remember a lad, aged about nineteen who was a regular, who took his life early this year. One of the girls at work was close with him; pathetically they have to take the mirror down when they screen football games, as a precaution, because it’s done up in the colours of one particular club).
On to far lighter matters, and my young brother has purchased the anniversary edition of Viz. It’s a common theme to me that this Geordie rag is at least as actually sophisticated in its satiric intent as the likes of Private Eye, although a cursory glance – with its overt scatological tones – might dismiss that (although be that as it may).
There’s some undeniably witty material in there; I think my personal favourite thus far is The Adventures of Ian Paisley: ‘It’s the way I yell ‘em!’.
Trying to locate his usual “Stan Laurel hat” for a “march down the Guvakky Road” the good Reverend opens a threadbare cupboard only to find – shock horrors! – the hat has been decimated by “Papist moths”.
Klassic (there’s plenty more where that came from), and well worth five notes, any British newsagency denizens…
…right, I’m off to listen to the Klashnekoff album and contemplate having that banana.
Overheard this morning in the lavatory two blokes chatting about “African brothels”, and last night in the pub two chaps discussing someone they used to know, a young man, who had just committed suicide at Strangeways (there’s a piece of manc ephemera for you…); one of them had seen him at another pub the last time he was out one Christmas, where he’d been asked if he had any gear. Heart-rending, all told (the pub we were in had put up a lovely commemorative mirror – and a nice bench outside – to remember a lad, aged about nineteen who was a regular, who took his life early this year. One of the girls at work was close with him; pathetically they have to take the mirror down when they screen football games, as a precaution, because it’s done up in the colours of one particular club).
On to far lighter matters, and my young brother has purchased the anniversary edition of Viz. It’s a common theme to me that this Geordie rag is at least as actually sophisticated in its satiric intent as the likes of Private Eye, although a cursory glance – with its overt scatological tones – might dismiss that (although be that as it may).
There’s some undeniably witty material in there; I think my personal favourite thus far is The Adventures of Ian Paisley: ‘It’s the way I yell ‘em!’.
Trying to locate his usual “Stan Laurel hat” for a “march down the Guvakky Road” the good Reverend opens a threadbare cupboard only to find – shock horrors! – the hat has been decimated by “Papist moths”.
Klassic (there’s plenty more where that came from), and well worth five notes, any British newsagency denizens…
…right, I’m off to listen to the Klashnekoff album and contemplate having that banana.
Monday, 28 June 2004
got bad manners cause i’m from a bad manor
It’s been brought to me attention that the ninth and latest series of NYPD Blue slipped off British television screens the other day, and was still apparently doing the business in a ‘quietly wonderful’ way, so there we go.
For three pounds ninety of the realm you got a large plate of rice, piled high, a big nan the size of a dinner plate, and three curries nestling all over the rice: bucketloads of a saucy and tender chicken, masses of gorgeous chana, and a wealth of mulchy, lightly spiced spinach. Even though I was famished about one third or more was entirely untouched and then we didn’t eat again for about another twenty-four hours. That is why that place is one of my favourite eateries. All of it absolutely delicious, served up instantly in quirky if basic surroundings, and washed down with free tap water.
‘Ink and Incapability’, the dictionary episode of Blackadder the Third, contains that ten minute period or so where Blackadder is riffing on imaginary words to annoy Dr Johnson. A pal and I were watching that the other night and – acknowledging we’re all fans of ‘Porridge’, Fawlty, Rising Damp, prime-Fools & Horses, etc. – there can be few finer sustained periods in British sitcom history (well, Anglophone sitcom history, let’s be honest) than that ten minute flurry or so, between the Prince Regent announcing that that splendid brainbox Dr Johnson is coming to tea, and the gang (mistakenly, at the time) believing Baldrick to have burnt the dictionary, leading to Blackadder’s hilarious “pencil” declaration to Baldrick [also there’s that “Dictionary Two? The return of the Killer Dictionary?”].
It’s such a pleasure to see Vincent Hanna (“Country Gentleman’s Pig Fertiliser Gazette”), insistent in the politics episode when Baldrick is accidentally elevated to the House of Lords too, and the Macbeth joke in the actors episode never seems badly-timed or OTT. The first couple of seasons, and the fifth season, of Red Dwarf, were all class, but they can’t compete with, certainly, the last couple of Blackadder seasons (and the second one too, I’d argue). Granted, the first season of Blackadder is still pants-wettingly funny, but can be a bit more slapstick and clearly a lot less wordy at times (the fact Baldrick is the one with the brains in the first season, but only the first season, is probably supposed to be some sort of story arc like they have in expensive American drama shows, but it just seems bizarre in review), and clearly the operation was still feeling its way forward (the relative polish of the fourth season is quite a contrast to the wattle and daub efforts of the first season, if you come back to both of them after a prolonged absence).
Mind you, in the first couple or so of Red Dwarf seasons, because they were filming on a shoestring at BBC Northwest, they had those wonderful props like if Lister cracks open a can it’s just a grey tin with LAGER written on the side in white block. Marvellous!
Talking about a reissue (three compact discs on the Sanctuary label), below is a funny line about ‘Village Green Preservation Society’, from Stewart Lee (is that the comic?) in yesterday’s Times:
Like the Beach Boys’ Smile, the Kinks’ Village Green Preservation Society has latterly benefited from the efforts of a coterie of enthusiastic critics bent on reclaiming it as the great 1960s album.
the huge elephant in the South African writing room
_Anthony Minghella on apartheid.
Tell you what, in that second set, Henman was really trying wasn’t he? Some lovely tennis. Nina from ‘Neighbours’ was there, Delta Goodrem, like the Aussie Vanessa Carlton, looking lovely as per. Perhaps Phillopoussis (I admit, I can’t spell his last name) is ‘poking’ her.
Now my local wetherspoons it’s quite a posh area, so maybe it’s cheaper in your area, but they still have bottles of Staropramen on a Monday for 1.39, so two bottles for under 2.80: not bad like. quite good really.
It’s been brought to me attention that the ninth and latest series of NYPD Blue slipped off British television screens the other day, and was still apparently doing the business in a ‘quietly wonderful’ way, so there we go.
For three pounds ninety of the realm you got a large plate of rice, piled high, a big nan the size of a dinner plate, and three curries nestling all over the rice: bucketloads of a saucy and tender chicken, masses of gorgeous chana, and a wealth of mulchy, lightly spiced spinach. Even though I was famished about one third or more was entirely untouched and then we didn’t eat again for about another twenty-four hours. That is why that place is one of my favourite eateries. All of it absolutely delicious, served up instantly in quirky if basic surroundings, and washed down with free tap water.
‘Ink and Incapability’, the dictionary episode of Blackadder the Third, contains that ten minute period or so where Blackadder is riffing on imaginary words to annoy Dr Johnson. A pal and I were watching that the other night and – acknowledging we’re all fans of ‘Porridge’, Fawlty, Rising Damp, prime-Fools & Horses, etc. – there can be few finer sustained periods in British sitcom history (well, Anglophone sitcom history, let’s be honest) than that ten minute flurry or so, between the Prince Regent announcing that that splendid brainbox Dr Johnson is coming to tea, and the gang (mistakenly, at the time) believing Baldrick to have burnt the dictionary, leading to Blackadder’s hilarious “pencil” declaration to Baldrick [also there’s that “Dictionary Two? The return of the Killer Dictionary?”].
It’s such a pleasure to see Vincent Hanna (“Country Gentleman’s Pig Fertiliser Gazette”), insistent in the politics episode when Baldrick is accidentally elevated to the House of Lords too, and the Macbeth joke in the actors episode never seems badly-timed or OTT. The first couple of seasons, and the fifth season, of Red Dwarf, were all class, but they can’t compete with, certainly, the last couple of Blackadder seasons (and the second one too, I’d argue). Granted, the first season of Blackadder is still pants-wettingly funny, but can be a bit more slapstick and clearly a lot less wordy at times (the fact Baldrick is the one with the brains in the first season, but only the first season, is probably supposed to be some sort of story arc like they have in expensive American drama shows, but it just seems bizarre in review), and clearly the operation was still feeling its way forward (the relative polish of the fourth season is quite a contrast to the wattle and daub efforts of the first season, if you come back to both of them after a prolonged absence).
Mind you, in the first couple or so of Red Dwarf seasons, because they were filming on a shoestring at BBC Northwest, they had those wonderful props like if Lister cracks open a can it’s just a grey tin with LAGER written on the side in white block. Marvellous!
Talking about a reissue (three compact discs on the Sanctuary label), below is a funny line about ‘Village Green Preservation Society’, from Stewart Lee (is that the comic?) in yesterday’s Times:
Like the Beach Boys’ Smile, the Kinks’ Village Green Preservation Society has latterly benefited from the efforts of a coterie of enthusiastic critics bent on reclaiming it as the great 1960s album.
the huge elephant in the South African writing room
_Anthony Minghella on apartheid.
Tell you what, in that second set, Henman was really trying wasn’t he? Some lovely tennis. Nina from ‘Neighbours’ was there, Delta Goodrem, like the Aussie Vanessa Carlton, looking lovely as per. Perhaps Phillopoussis (I admit, I can’t spell his last name) is ‘poking’ her.
Now my local wetherspoons it’s quite a posh area, so maybe it’s cheaper in your area, but they still have bottles of Staropramen on a Monday for 1.39, so two bottles for under 2.80: not bad like. quite good really.
Sunday, 27 June 2004
The new Olympic stadium in Beijing looks just glorious.
Something that is a glorious prospect is Robert Hughes on the telly, interviewing the likes of Koons and Rego for a documentary this coming weekend. Could be good fun.
Yes, and that is that.
First weekend back in manchester and I got slapped in town, was nearly caught up in a mini-riot at the end of me street (well, about fifteen scallies causing shit and battering people, including a bloke with a pool cue), we got thrown out of a pub due to some Oldham fan acting up, and my mate had his record shopping nicked (just as well we didn’t plump for all those Starship compilations…).
Wonderful.
On the plus side due to drinking so much lager and an impressive array of some very nice continental bottles yesterday (my mate had never had Erdinger!) today was time to subsist on a palatable Bombardier and a great-as-ever IPA (and draught Red Stripe in Brian Robson’s local, and Spandau and other assorted greats on the jukebox). Wetherspoons seem to be selling abbot and spitfire at the same price, which seems a bit odd to me, as although spitfire is a fine drink, it is no abbot. I for one would certainly not begrudge a few pence more on the price of an abbot (over the costing for a spitfire). In my absence from good ol’ Blighty I note ‘spoons are also selling Staropramen bottles for a reasonable fare. The Hogshead chain has been rebranded to The Place (though one gathers there are certain individual outlets that have been more sympathetically and individually named) though still seems to suffer in the shadow of ‘spoons and their gloriously eccentric (and Euro-sceptic innit) churmun.
I saw a lad wearing a Red Sox hat 48 hours before finding out ‘funnyman’ Phill Jupitus (is that how you spell it?) has a Red Sox tattoo, having fallen in love with Fenway Park on a Bostonian vacation.
I note that the Cubs beat the White Sox in the Chitown derby but lost earlier to the Cardinals. Paul Morley reviews Jamie Cullum for the telegraph and on the one hand it’s just not a very good review, it only seems well frankly it seems lame and pedestrian but maybe that is due to the subject matter or it could be because Morley for all one knows might not be bothered and this is clearly not his main gig so if he is getting paid for a little tossed-off thing then that’s probably fair enough for him, so that is something.
AA gill says the most depressing sentence you can hear in the English language is “red or white?” (quoting Kingsley Amis) which is quite amusing, in a way (Chilean reds or somewhat overpriced Rioja all the rage in my local it seems, if you’re asking Mr Gill).
We know this because one got a copy of the times today for the first time in ages (it was all wrapped up still and on the floor so I picked it up and it complemented the telegraph quite well, with an interesting portrait of Francis Fukuyama by Bryan Appleyard, a fairly persuasive account of Tuymans at the Tate Modern by an unimpressed Waldemar Januszczak, a good piece from Christopher Catherwood about Churchill’s calling Iraq into being in 1921, an entertaining interview with Simon Schama, a good piece on Leonara Carrington’s artwork, a quite good portrait of Michael Moore, a superb interview with 17-year-old Raad Awisat, the only Palestinian swimmer at this year’s Olympics, and a monumentally rubbish piece by Minette Marrin: thesis, diverse immigration is a chief reason why inner London children suffer from so much increasing violent crime, and if only Dear Tony would realise this and do something about it, ignoring racism catcalls, we could all sleep so much sounder at night).
Marrin’s column is indeed written in the wake of the utterly appalling murder of that 15 year old lad for his (it seems) mobile phone (a robbery gone wrong) in southwest London last week but I’d have thought the headline “murderous mix in our inner cities” was, taken as an amplified whole, a bad joke (well, at least a parody). Apparently not.
It seems the incomparable Loaf might be onto something with his conservative immobility line…
…in the wake of the simplistic claptrap Polly Toynbee spouted recently in the guardian, about inequality and obesity in developed economies, you don’t admittedly have to be way out on the left to at least acknowledge that in the USA and Britain (dunno about other western countries, but it’s well-known in these two places), the cheapest food and therefore most plausible place to get your groceries for people on low incomes is the shitty processed crap that is going to of course not do your waistline any favours (if memory serves, Toynbee recognised this, which no one sensible should quarrel with as an observation, but went a lot further…). Hence in some places you can’t get to a supermarket and there will only be an offy selling cigs and full-fat milk, whereas if you traipse off to the Selfridges food-hall you’ll be forking out 85 quid for a fancy cucumber that admittedly does your heart the world of good.
be that as it may, the below is a fine (and poignant, certainly if you read the whole article) quote about these sorts of issues):
actually bollocks can’t find it but it basically said something about economic deprivation yeah, granted, but also cultural impoverishment.
Anyway.
Just wanted to say there was a debate at k-punk once about the guardian and the times and stuff and IIRC Mark said he preferred the times to the guardian (I for one am not about to go overboard on defending the guardian, it must be said) because he found the guardian irritatingly bourgeois or something. well judging from all the times’ supplements today, including holidays in Paris and lots of home stuff, depressing kids supplements, and Cosmo Landesman’s arch reviews, it seems if you wanted to, the same sort of (admittedly vague the way I’ve levelled it, so both either easy to embrace or simple to refute) mix permeates the times, so if you wanted to, you could make a similar ‘charge’ there. so not too sure about that one right there.
Josh Homme has big white arms but did you notice that Coltrane had fair-sized arms, never really noticed that until the other day.
The College Dropout somehow does sound different and to me even stronger in the UK than it does in the USA, it’s made me cry at times listening to it over the last few days, it is starkly affecting on occasion as well as most enjoyable.
Anyway, one thing I wanted to clear up which was written in The Reader: a usually fine Chicago free weekly, some geezer going on about how the long skit at the end of the College Dropout is a huge mistake, because it’s only alluring the first time you hear it, then it palls.
While this listener disagrees, it seems charming and lovely time after time, as Ingram (gorgeous txt blog of Matt’s innit? and how wonderful is Luke on New Zealand?) observed IIRC about the stuff to do with having his mum help him move house, well the bit about his landlord being a jerk, that’s great that is.
Speaking of Luke, I’ve been listening to one of his pirate tapes in particular a lot recently the last day or so (will have to write about the pirate tapes he sent me last year when one finally gets round to posting one’s favourites list of 2003!! Gonna definitely do it as a joke now though cause it’s so late, cause when I had a homepage the year before last I was able to write up my 2002 favourites on time).
Anyway it’s all truly fine, the way a hoover sound and PlayStation tones are mixing with the most delicate melodies or urgent emceeing, if I was one of these bloggers that was actually a proper internet writer on one of those websites about music I would definitely say that Simon R.’s review of the So Solid album in UNCUT a couple of years ago was influential, that was a great review that, the line about the ambulance sirens and stuff, “talent squeezed through an aperture” (re. ’21 Seconds’) wasn’t it.
Bought Wiley’s album on CD FINALLY and keep replaying the (all too brief) ‘interludes’ of his three riddims that are there. they’re so tantalising for a neophyte like myself and something about Philip Sherburne’s recent reviews in the Wire (especially about Kompakt 100 and his review of Rephlex Grime, where it was nice to see him namecheck Jess H.) is chiming with me, especially his spring-loaded pistons etc. point for the Rephlex LP, the way the listener gets a bit of these instrumentals, a tantalising glimpse, it’s as exciting as reading your way through Pamuk or Machiavelli or choosing a good bunch of flowers for a lover.
Also GRATE in the wire was Matt’s review of some album. not so cool some tedious type trying to slate Geeta in the letterspage.
Incidentally because I’m back at me mam and dad’s gaff on our relatively speaking crap shared PC this is why these posts have capitals going on a lot more cause I’ve had to write this out on a Word file (!) because it’s too expensive to do it whilst online. Not that I’m a huge ee cummings fan (though there is another controversy about that anyway) but there we go.
OI! BARMAN.
Heard some of the new Beastie Boys album the other day, must say from what was heard it was – frankly – fairly crap sounding.
Bought really cheap Duran Duran, Brand Nubian, Souls of Mischief, and TLC albums on CD quality that! also red headed stranger for about raey cheap yes better make sure I’ve got the entire back catalogues of Gary Wilson & the Blind Dates and Can in a cheap reissued way soon eh what a boring canonical twat! hoho, I’ll be turning in me upturned chinos soon…
My man at the council house assures me it was Chicks on Speed’s arty visuals that inspired such ire among the Chili Peppers/James Brown crowd; there’s no accounting for taste eh (Ed DMX, gentle folk-tronica, or various Kompakt releases are undoubtedly nice but if one had to choose descriptive words for the music being enjoyed most round here at the moment it’s still grime, and so descriptive words would include exhilarating and inspirational).
One other exciting prospect is the new season of ‘The Shield’ I didn’t use to rate this show at all, having seen it a few times and been singularly unimpressed, thinking the violence unnecessary and wanting the sharpness of the script to more than compensate.
Well deffo I’m now converted and if I still don’t reckon it could touch the early days of NYPD Blue or the run of Homicide: Life on the Street or the force of nature that is ‘The Sopranos’, I would definitely look forward to catching it. the character of Mackey (doesn’t Chiklis look a bit like Gravesen of Denmark??) is so interesting and such a nutter with a good human side that you can’t take your eyes off him, it’s like watching Sipowicz and Simone working together in the early-mid seasons of NYPD Blue before that show went off the boil-big time, you remember the first season of that programme when Sipowicz was an alkie, and
THAT DIALOGUE!
THAT DIALOGUE!
Fantastic, all that “so help me Kelly or I’ll clean your clock”, lining that bourbon up in the bar, I’m convinced the scriptwriters just eavesdropped on genuine New York City detectives, there was some great stuff going on over there.
Anyway Mackey and his colleagues they’re all great characters and I love watching them with that same queasy feeling you have in your stomach as a car drives over a particularly steep hill or perhaps if you’re a small child being driven to an appointment you are dreading and you are aware all too obviously that the more tarmac eaten up underneath the smooth and inexorable progress of the wheels and vehicle is nearer the appointment when all you want to do is to be FURTHER away from that fucker.
Anyway.
I shall look forward to the Armenian mob going to war with a white slaphead who wears a Notre Dame tee-shirt in promotional photographs.
One thing in favour of Pete Doherty of Libertines (apart from being a smackhead which makes for entertaining rock’n’roll copy) is he’s a QPR fan, I didn’t know that, long-term readers may remember somedisco announcing Sarah Cracknell (from St Etienne) is a Brentford fan, well I think Brentford win that one, but chin up Pete at least you’re in ‘the Championship’ eh lad!
The lovely companion and her organisation was all on the Pride march in Chitown today, part of the parade (float and all!). I had a look around and this URL seems to be about Chicago Pride so that’s worth a shout.
just had a fairly satisfying dump actually, thought there was a bloody great spider by me foot but turned out not to be.
Something that is a glorious prospect is Robert Hughes on the telly, interviewing the likes of Koons and Rego for a documentary this coming weekend. Could be good fun.
Yes, and that is that.
First weekend back in manchester and I got slapped in town, was nearly caught up in a mini-riot at the end of me street (well, about fifteen scallies causing shit and battering people, including a bloke with a pool cue), we got thrown out of a pub due to some Oldham fan acting up, and my mate had his record shopping nicked (just as well we didn’t plump for all those Starship compilations…).
Wonderful.
On the plus side due to drinking so much lager and an impressive array of some very nice continental bottles yesterday (my mate had never had Erdinger!) today was time to subsist on a palatable Bombardier and a great-as-ever IPA (and draught Red Stripe in Brian Robson’s local, and Spandau and other assorted greats on the jukebox). Wetherspoons seem to be selling abbot and spitfire at the same price, which seems a bit odd to me, as although spitfire is a fine drink, it is no abbot. I for one would certainly not begrudge a few pence more on the price of an abbot (over the costing for a spitfire). In my absence from good ol’ Blighty I note ‘spoons are also selling Staropramen bottles for a reasonable fare. The Hogshead chain has been rebranded to The Place (though one gathers there are certain individual outlets that have been more sympathetically and individually named) though still seems to suffer in the shadow of ‘spoons and their gloriously eccentric (and Euro-sceptic innit) churmun.
I saw a lad wearing a Red Sox hat 48 hours before finding out ‘funnyman’ Phill Jupitus (is that how you spell it?) has a Red Sox tattoo, having fallen in love with Fenway Park on a Bostonian vacation.
I note that the Cubs beat the White Sox in the Chitown derby but lost earlier to the Cardinals. Paul Morley reviews Jamie Cullum for the telegraph and on the one hand it’s just not a very good review, it only seems well frankly it seems lame and pedestrian but maybe that is due to the subject matter or it could be because Morley for all one knows might not be bothered and this is clearly not his main gig so if he is getting paid for a little tossed-off thing then that’s probably fair enough for him, so that is something.
AA gill says the most depressing sentence you can hear in the English language is “red or white?” (quoting Kingsley Amis) which is quite amusing, in a way (Chilean reds or somewhat overpriced Rioja all the rage in my local it seems, if you’re asking Mr Gill).
We know this because one got a copy of the times today for the first time in ages (it was all wrapped up still and on the floor so I picked it up and it complemented the telegraph quite well, with an interesting portrait of Francis Fukuyama by Bryan Appleyard, a fairly persuasive account of Tuymans at the Tate Modern by an unimpressed Waldemar Januszczak, a good piece from Christopher Catherwood about Churchill’s calling Iraq into being in 1921, an entertaining interview with Simon Schama, a good piece on Leonara Carrington’s artwork, a quite good portrait of Michael Moore, a superb interview with 17-year-old Raad Awisat, the only Palestinian swimmer at this year’s Olympics, and a monumentally rubbish piece by Minette Marrin: thesis, diverse immigration is a chief reason why inner London children suffer from so much increasing violent crime, and if only Dear Tony would realise this and do something about it, ignoring racism catcalls, we could all sleep so much sounder at night).
Marrin’s column is indeed written in the wake of the utterly appalling murder of that 15 year old lad for his (it seems) mobile phone (a robbery gone wrong) in southwest London last week but I’d have thought the headline “murderous mix in our inner cities” was, taken as an amplified whole, a bad joke (well, at least a parody). Apparently not.
It seems the incomparable Loaf might be onto something with his conservative immobility line…
…in the wake of the simplistic claptrap Polly Toynbee spouted recently in the guardian, about inequality and obesity in developed economies, you don’t admittedly have to be way out on the left to at least acknowledge that in the USA and Britain (dunno about other western countries, but it’s well-known in these two places), the cheapest food and therefore most plausible place to get your groceries for people on low incomes is the shitty processed crap that is going to of course not do your waistline any favours (if memory serves, Toynbee recognised this, which no one sensible should quarrel with as an observation, but went a lot further…). Hence in some places you can’t get to a supermarket and there will only be an offy selling cigs and full-fat milk, whereas if you traipse off to the Selfridges food-hall you’ll be forking out 85 quid for a fancy cucumber that admittedly does your heart the world of good.
be that as it may, the below is a fine (and poignant, certainly if you read the whole article) quote about these sorts of issues):
actually bollocks can’t find it but it basically said something about economic deprivation yeah, granted, but also cultural impoverishment.
Anyway.
Just wanted to say there was a debate at k-punk once about the guardian and the times and stuff and IIRC Mark said he preferred the times to the guardian (I for one am not about to go overboard on defending the guardian, it must be said) because he found the guardian irritatingly bourgeois or something. well judging from all the times’ supplements today, including holidays in Paris and lots of home stuff, depressing kids supplements, and Cosmo Landesman’s arch reviews, it seems if you wanted to, the same sort of (admittedly vague the way I’ve levelled it, so both either easy to embrace or simple to refute) mix permeates the times, so if you wanted to, you could make a similar ‘charge’ there. so not too sure about that one right there.
Josh Homme has big white arms but did you notice that Coltrane had fair-sized arms, never really noticed that until the other day.
The College Dropout somehow does sound different and to me even stronger in the UK than it does in the USA, it’s made me cry at times listening to it over the last few days, it is starkly affecting on occasion as well as most enjoyable.
Anyway, one thing I wanted to clear up which was written in The Reader: a usually fine Chicago free weekly, some geezer going on about how the long skit at the end of the College Dropout is a huge mistake, because it’s only alluring the first time you hear it, then it palls.
While this listener disagrees, it seems charming and lovely time after time, as Ingram (gorgeous txt blog of Matt’s innit? and how wonderful is Luke on New Zealand?) observed IIRC about the stuff to do with having his mum help him move house, well the bit about his landlord being a jerk, that’s great that is.
Speaking of Luke, I’ve been listening to one of his pirate tapes in particular a lot recently the last day or so (will have to write about the pirate tapes he sent me last year when one finally gets round to posting one’s favourites list of 2003!! Gonna definitely do it as a joke now though cause it’s so late, cause when I had a homepage the year before last I was able to write up my 2002 favourites on time).
Anyway it’s all truly fine, the way a hoover sound and PlayStation tones are mixing with the most delicate melodies or urgent emceeing, if I was one of these bloggers that was actually a proper internet writer on one of those websites about music I would definitely say that Simon R.’s review of the So Solid album in UNCUT a couple of years ago was influential, that was a great review that, the line about the ambulance sirens and stuff, “talent squeezed through an aperture” (re. ’21 Seconds’) wasn’t it.
Bought Wiley’s album on CD FINALLY and keep replaying the (all too brief) ‘interludes’ of his three riddims that are there. they’re so tantalising for a neophyte like myself and something about Philip Sherburne’s recent reviews in the Wire (especially about Kompakt 100 and his review of Rephlex Grime, where it was nice to see him namecheck Jess H.) is chiming with me, especially his spring-loaded pistons etc. point for the Rephlex LP, the way the listener gets a bit of these instrumentals, a tantalising glimpse, it’s as exciting as reading your way through Pamuk or Machiavelli or choosing a good bunch of flowers for a lover.
Also GRATE in the wire was Matt’s review of some album. not so cool some tedious type trying to slate Geeta in the letterspage.
Incidentally because I’m back at me mam and dad’s gaff on our relatively speaking crap shared PC this is why these posts have capitals going on a lot more cause I’ve had to write this out on a Word file (!) because it’s too expensive to do it whilst online. Not that I’m a huge ee cummings fan (though there is another controversy about that anyway) but there we go.
OI! BARMAN.
Heard some of the new Beastie Boys album the other day, must say from what was heard it was – frankly – fairly crap sounding.
Bought really cheap Duran Duran, Brand Nubian, Souls of Mischief, and TLC albums on CD quality that! also red headed stranger for about raey cheap yes better make sure I’ve got the entire back catalogues of Gary Wilson & the Blind Dates and Can in a cheap reissued way soon eh what a boring canonical twat! hoho, I’ll be turning in me upturned chinos soon…
My man at the council house assures me it was Chicks on Speed’s arty visuals that inspired such ire among the Chili Peppers/James Brown crowd; there’s no accounting for taste eh (Ed DMX, gentle folk-tronica, or various Kompakt releases are undoubtedly nice but if one had to choose descriptive words for the music being enjoyed most round here at the moment it’s still grime, and so descriptive words would include exhilarating and inspirational).
One other exciting prospect is the new season of ‘The Shield’ I didn’t use to rate this show at all, having seen it a few times and been singularly unimpressed, thinking the violence unnecessary and wanting the sharpness of the script to more than compensate.
Well deffo I’m now converted and if I still don’t reckon it could touch the early days of NYPD Blue or the run of Homicide: Life on the Street or the force of nature that is ‘The Sopranos’, I would definitely look forward to catching it. the character of Mackey (doesn’t Chiklis look a bit like Gravesen of Denmark??) is so interesting and such a nutter with a good human side that you can’t take your eyes off him, it’s like watching Sipowicz and Simone working together in the early-mid seasons of NYPD Blue before that show went off the boil-big time, you remember the first season of that programme when Sipowicz was an alkie, and
THAT DIALOGUE!
THAT DIALOGUE!
Fantastic, all that “so help me Kelly or I’ll clean your clock”, lining that bourbon up in the bar, I’m convinced the scriptwriters just eavesdropped on genuine New York City detectives, there was some great stuff going on over there.
Anyway Mackey and his colleagues they’re all great characters and I love watching them with that same queasy feeling you have in your stomach as a car drives over a particularly steep hill or perhaps if you’re a small child being driven to an appointment you are dreading and you are aware all too obviously that the more tarmac eaten up underneath the smooth and inexorable progress of the wheels and vehicle is nearer the appointment when all you want to do is to be FURTHER away from that fucker.
Anyway.
I shall look forward to the Armenian mob going to war with a white slaphead who wears a Notre Dame tee-shirt in promotional photographs.
One thing in favour of Pete Doherty of Libertines (apart from being a smackhead which makes for entertaining rock’n’roll copy) is he’s a QPR fan, I didn’t know that, long-term readers may remember somedisco announcing Sarah Cracknell (from St Etienne) is a Brentford fan, well I think Brentford win that one, but chin up Pete at least you’re in ‘the Championship’ eh lad!
The lovely companion and her organisation was all on the Pride march in Chitown today, part of the parade (float and all!). I had a look around and this URL seems to be about Chicago Pride so that’s worth a shout.
just had a fairly satisfying dump actually, thought there was a bloody great spider by me foot but turned out not to be.
Friday, 25 June 2004
dirty city pigeon
i liked it, anyway.
obviously, i loved it a lot, and i love Somalian curries, and scoffing inerja and drinking San Miguel and semi-skimmed milk, and although i love Chelle more than anything, i certainly love her family, so therefore i love SLOVAK CUSS WORDS.
shout to all CUSSING MANCS.
big up LOGAN SQUARE and all CHEETHAM CREW and all BESWICK BOYS and all lads from MILES PLATTING and alla types from HANDSWORTH.
i liked it, anyway.
obviously, i loved it a lot, and i love Somalian curries, and scoffing inerja and drinking San Miguel and semi-skimmed milk, and although i love Chelle more than anything, i certainly love her family, so therefore i love SLOVAK CUSS WORDS.
shout to all CUSSING MANCS.
big up LOGAN SQUARE and all CHEETHAM CREW and all BESWICK BOYS and all lads from MILES PLATTING and alla types from HANDSWORTH.
I'VE BEEN LISTENING MOSTLY TO COMPACT DISCS - ESPECIALLY JOHNNY CASH, various five percenters, PASTOR TROY, DIZZEE RAS, FADO COMPILATIONS, VARIOUS MOTOWN, VARIOUS MOTOWN TEKK, various country, TURKISH PROG ROCK, CLIFF RICHARD, VARIOUS WEST COAST RAPPers, RAEKWON etc.
if anything, the college dropout sounds monumentally stronger in the UK than it does in the USA.
remarkable.
the other day i was chatting to a bloke about Kanye, Nottinghamshire rappers, Birmingham (NOT Alabama) rappers, UKG, the Streets, graf, and such, to some bloke.
his (admittedly not all there) URL is next.
if anything, the college dropout sounds monumentally stronger in the UK than it does in the USA.
remarkable.
the other day i was chatting to a bloke about Kanye, Nottinghamshire rappers, Birmingham (NOT Alabama) rappers, UKG, the Streets, graf, and such, to some bloke.
his (admittedly not all there) URL is next.
Monday, 21 June 2004
out on Planet Earth meantime, 10,000 DRC troops are reported to be heading east, whilst 86400 seconds deserves a large nice-up for his totally ace dissertation suggestion: the construction of authenticity in music via reissue sleeve notes.
more thanks to the ever-reliable Iain (unexpected that the Daily Express should be complaining about the European constitution) because we simply must put a link to something he links to, namely this brilliant article from The Chronicle of Higher Education.
if you can't be arsed to click, in a nutshell it's a somewhat pompous American academic who - especially so in a breathtakingly snobbish closing paragraph (dig the tired attempt at wit: or should that be humor?), though the whole article is largely absurd - is calling for British English expressions to be disdained in American public life/reportage/etc.
(unintentionally) hilarious guff from a winningly pretentious snark-meister.
more thanks to the ever-reliable Iain (unexpected that the Daily Express should be complaining about the European constitution) because we simply must put a link to something he links to, namely this brilliant article from The Chronicle of Higher Education.
if you can't be arsed to click, in a nutshell it's a somewhat pompous American academic who - especially so in a breathtakingly snobbish closing paragraph (dig the tired attempt at wit: or should that be humor?), though the whole article is largely absurd - is calling for British English expressions to be disdained in American public life/reportage/etc.
(unintentionally) hilarious guff from a winningly pretentious snark-meister.
apparently Chicks on Speed were bottled at the recent Chili Peppers show
other blogs have been discussing, w' pace & verve, the Observer's 100 greatest British albums special (to be fair, nos. 2, 8, 10, 15, 27, 77, and 95-6 all seem probably worthy of a place, among undoubtedly many of the i'm sure excellent others on that list, if somedisco had voted) so it's almost not worth any comment being expended upon all that here too, as everyone's objections or alternatives are always going to be at least as valid and interesting as the published canon.
but a few points stand out for me that i hope i can be forgiven for thinking about out loud.
(1) Paul Morley deserves some props for an interesting point about Astral Weeks {"the real thing people are looking for" from Norah Jones and the Corrs...unsure what to make of that [possibly unfair in a very fashionable sort of way; Sasha writes positively on Jones and he is often persuasive], but it's enough to make one catch one's breath anyhoo}, but he really shouldn't worry hisself too much about Four Tet.
(2) Alex James is fair and reasonable (perhaps a slight surprise for Met Bar/Ivy-ligger caricaturists), and Miranda Sawyer also deserves props: perhaps you think their too-broad brushstrokes are so shrill and obvious as to be plain offensive, but rather that than - in general - Morley's comfortable warm soup.
(3) no need to rag on the Stone Roses making the best British album ever (to be fair, that's surely a 'better' record than Definitely Maybe - Hello Q Magazine!), suffice to say as someone who went to the same school as Squire and Brown i would hope one is allowed a little leeway to slag 'em off...
(4) the only thing that's half-wrong and worth getting a little peeved about is something DeRogatis says: though he's joyously funny (and basically accurate) on the Roses, by the by, if a little unfair on old Kylie (and by extension, the odd Kylie moment; what would Morley say to that?) and terribly unfair on Mike Skinner (who i admit i'm not a big fan of), and we should give him as much in that he is kind and polite.
BUT.
PJ Harvey's "improved [upon our sounds]" with that West Country "take on the blues".
?
i assume that is an ironic passage (after all, he is a writer for a Chicago {Chicago! Chicago!!} newspaper, and as well as the OBVIOUS to be found in Chitown, there is plenty of humour and comedy in that fine city).
that is what i assume.
otherwise, my one alloted sentence (via a lawyer if need be) runs, roughly, thus:=
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON ABOUT?
I MEAN, WHAT THE FUCK?
other blogs have been discussing, w' pace & verve, the Observer's 100 greatest British albums special (to be fair, nos. 2, 8, 10, 15, 27, 77, and 95-6 all seem probably worthy of a place, among undoubtedly many of the i'm sure excellent others on that list, if somedisco had voted) so it's almost not worth any comment being expended upon all that here too, as everyone's objections or alternatives are always going to be at least as valid and interesting as the published canon.
but a few points stand out for me that i hope i can be forgiven for thinking about out loud.
(1) Paul Morley deserves some props for an interesting point about Astral Weeks {"the real thing people are looking for" from Norah Jones and the Corrs...unsure what to make of that [possibly unfair in a very fashionable sort of way; Sasha writes positively on Jones and he is often persuasive], but it's enough to make one catch one's breath anyhoo}, but he really shouldn't worry hisself too much about Four Tet.
(2) Alex James is fair and reasonable (perhaps a slight surprise for Met Bar/Ivy-ligger caricaturists), and Miranda Sawyer also deserves props: perhaps you think their too-broad brushstrokes are so shrill and obvious as to be plain offensive, but rather that than - in general - Morley's comfortable warm soup.
(3) no need to rag on the Stone Roses making the best British album ever (to be fair, that's surely a 'better' record than Definitely Maybe - Hello Q Magazine!), suffice to say as someone who went to the same school as Squire and Brown i would hope one is allowed a little leeway to slag 'em off...
(4) the only thing that's half-wrong and worth getting a little peeved about is something DeRogatis says: though he's joyously funny (and basically accurate) on the Roses, by the by, if a little unfair on old Kylie (and by extension, the odd Kylie moment; what would Morley say to that?) and terribly unfair on Mike Skinner (who i admit i'm not a big fan of), and we should give him as much in that he is kind and polite.
BUT.
PJ Harvey's "improved [upon our sounds]" with that West Country "take on the blues".
?
i assume that is an ironic passage (after all, he is a writer for a Chicago {Chicago! Chicago!!} newspaper, and as well as the OBVIOUS to be found in Chitown, there is plenty of humour and comedy in that fine city).
that is what i assume.
otherwise, my one alloted sentence (via a lawyer if need be) runs, roughly, thus:=
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON ABOUT?
I MEAN, WHAT THE FUCK?
Warmest congratulations to The Rambler.
meanwhile, a big huzzah for the return of a Woebot-place. the blog (and the txt actually looks really good) has started with two note-perfect entries, kudos.
meanwhile, a big huzzah for the return of a Woebot-place. the blog (and the txt actually looks really good) has started with two note-perfect entries, kudos.
Friday, 18 June 2004
some good letters in the guardian about asylum aid and the legal system (and Ted Heath defending himself), and i love how the matchless Finney dismisses the tedious and wrong mainstream narrative subtexts around the Neptunes/OutKast that's apparently been building in Oz before launching into the real business.
The Interfaith Alliance:
good people (celeb fan: Walter Cronkite) standing against the machinations of the Christian right in the USA.
Our goal is a Christian nation. We have a biblical duty, we are called by God to conquer this country. We don't want equal time. We don't want pluralism.
-- Randall Terry.
Women are less physically equipped to 'stay on course' in the brawling areas of business, commerce, industry, and the professions.
_Pat Buchanan.
You say you're supposed to be nice to the Episcopalians and the Presbyterians and the Methodists and this, that, and the other thing. Nonsense.
I don't have to be nice to the spirit of the Antichrist.
+ Pat Robertson
apparently North Carolina Republican Walter Jones ["Jones Warns Massachusetts Same-Sex Marriage Law May Soon Be Forced On North Carolina" - my emphasis] has re-introduced a previously defeated bill (H.R. 2357 'Houses of Worship Political Speech Protection Act') as H.R. 235 'Houses of Worship Free Speech Restoration Act' [text, 235 homepage].
it's not all as fluffy as the 235 homepage makes out...
good people (celeb fan: Walter Cronkite) standing against the machinations of the Christian right in the USA.
Our goal is a Christian nation. We have a biblical duty, we are called by God to conquer this country. We don't want equal time. We don't want pluralism.
-- Randall Terry.
Women are less physically equipped to 'stay on course' in the brawling areas of business, commerce, industry, and the professions.
_Pat Buchanan.
You say you're supposed to be nice to the Episcopalians and the Presbyterians and the Methodists and this, that, and the other thing. Nonsense.
I don't have to be nice to the spirit of the Antichrist.
+ Pat Robertson
apparently North Carolina Republican Walter Jones ["Jones Warns Massachusetts Same-Sex Marriage Law May Soon Be Forced On North Carolina" - my emphasis] has re-introduced a previously defeated bill (H.R. 2357 'Houses of Worship Political Speech Protection Act') as H.R. 235 'Houses of Worship Free Speech Restoration Act' [text, 235 homepage].
it's not all as fluffy as the 235 homepage makes out...
Wednesday, 16 June 2004
thanks are due to Da Weaver for alerting us to the news that the UK's television regulator (Ofcom) has found Fox News in breach of British broadcasting rules for an on-air, er, moan, from one of its anchors concerning the BBC [story, Ofcom report].
interestingly there's an article at the BBC site about this, but i can't find anything at the Fox site yet {at time of writing a search for "Ofcom" in their own engine only produced this result}.
however, in the interests of being fair and balanced, it's worth remembering Fox News is based, where?, New York? i think, so it's at least six hours behind the London-based BBC. so let's give 'em the benefit of the doubt, i'm sure things will a'right themselves.
interestingly there's an article at the BBC site about this, but i can't find anything at the Fox site yet {at time of writing a search for "Ofcom" in their own engine only produced this result}.
however, in the interests of being fair and balanced, it's worth remembering Fox News is based, where?, New York? i think, so it's at least six hours behind the London-based BBC. so let's give 'em the benefit of the doubt, i'm sure things will a'right themselves.
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