...back tomorrow with a breathless, over-excited report.

(Or maybe on Sunday. Ahem.)

When linking to Goldfrapp's cover of Yes Sir I Can Boogie (see below), I had forgotten that possibly the only two remaining Baccara fans on the planet (Nixon and Zbornak) were also readers of this site. I trust that floated your boat, boys.

My father once turned down an invitation to have lunch with Baccara, I'll have you know. It was the early 90s, and times were hard, both for Baccara and for my father. He had been reduced to doing legal work for a chain of shit discos in Yorkshire, and they had been reduced to touring them.

He rang me at work the previous day to canvass my opinion. ("Now then Michael, you know all about pop music. Have you heard of something called Baccara? Are they any good?) And I proceeded to trash them. ("Nah - they had a couple of rubbishy hits, years and years ago, but they're all washed up now. Total has-beens. I wouldn't bother going if I were you.")

Sorry, Nixon. Sorry Zbornak. That was very wrong of me. I know that now.

Anyway. Today's weird and wonderful MP3 can be found at Fluxblog (page down to the end of the posting). It's a home recording of someone called Amy, who has made a touching - no, scrub that, terrifying - "customised" version of Prince's Kiss for her girlfriend Caroline, without realising that the resulting sound file could be picked up by file-sharing networks all over the world. All I can say after hearing it is: run for the hills, Caroline!

A busy weekend ahead. First and foremost, there's the Rolling Stones at Wembley Arena tonight, starring the man who links me to...no, I've said it before, you can do your own detective work on that.

I'll just repeat that, shall I? I'm only seeing the Rolling F***ing Stones tonight! This is the most excited I've been before a gig since Madonna in 2001. Apparently, they played Hand Of Fate at the Astoria this week, which is my favourite track off Black And Blue and my biggest Earworm of the last few weeks. If they play it tonight, then I might spontaneously combust with pure joy. Better pack a damp towel, just in case.

After the gig, I'll be heading down to a club called The Cock (yes, I know what that sounds like, and no, you're wrong), which is staging a one-off night at Crash in Vauxhall, featuring live sets from The Readers Wifes, Atomizer (featuring Jonny Slut from Nag Nag Nag), and The Scissor Sisters (plus a rumoured surprise appearance from...no, I'd better not jinx it by mentioning the name). Punk-funk and latter-day electroclash galore, in other words. (Are we still allowed to say "electroclash" these days?) I'll be the one "throwing shapes" to The Rapture's House Of Jealous Lovers. Probably.

Tomorrow afternoon (12:00-18:00) marks the return of the Nottingham Pride festival, which is returning after a gap of two or three years. The festival has now moved to the Arboretum, which is potentially the ideal location for it, and a much better choice than the disaster that was the Victoria Embankment. I like these smaller scale, local Pride events, as they retain a lot more of that original "community" spirit, untainted by the deadening hand of commercial sponsorship. Expect tombola stands, "tribute" acts, and a good-natured, sisters-are-doing-it-for-themselves feel, which always reminds me of a poofed-up village fete.

Oh hang on, what's this from the official site? "Handbag throwing competitions for boys, and flat-pack assembly competitions for the girls, as well as tea and cakes at the bandstand." You gotta love it!

As for Sunday...well, I appear to be auditioning for some sort of play. They're looking for a "camp stereotype", who will be taking part in a Reality TV show. Tough call, that. I shall be drawing on all my innermost resources.

Finally: if the film Goodbye Lenin is playing at an arthouse cinema near you, then I can recommend it without reservation. It's set in East Berlin, at the time of the collapse of the Wall and the subsequent re-unification of Germany, and is, for the most part, a fairly straightforward and affectionately nostalgic comedy, in which a devoted son goes to increasingly elaborate lengths in order to deceive his seriously ill mother (a Communist party loyalist) into thinking that nothing has changed. None of this, however, prepares you for the gently accumulating emotional intensity of the final half hour of the film - beautifully conceived, judged and performed, with a deceptively light touch that sneaks upon you and leaves you "profoundly moved", as you're supposed to say if you're a Proper Film Critic. Best film I've seen all year.

Right then. Where's my Exile On Main Street?

Since a number of you have been outing yourselves as Kraftwerk and/or Goldfrapp fans today (in the "We listen" comments box below), here are a couple of related links which might find favour:

1. Via Scaryduck, an interview which Kraftwerk recently gave to the BBC. Bearing in mind that Kraftwerk are known for never giving interviews, this is quite a scoop.

2. A thousand thanks go to the gorgeous Gina Snowdoll, who has kindly posted an MP3 of Goldfrapp's extraordinary cover of Yes Sir, I Can Boogie (as recorded live in Berlin, earlier in the year). Oh, and that story about Strict Machine which I mentioned yesterday? Don't get too excited - it's a Poignant Childhood Reminiscence story rather than a Hot Insider Poop On Ms. Goldfrapp story, so it can wait a while longer.

Finally: a product endorsement from a Proper Blog Celebrity! Mike loves Quickos!

The exhibition divides up into three sections. The first section (rows 1 & 2 below, plus another one on row 5) consists mainly of "maquettes" - that is to say, small models of what would eventually become much larger pieces.

The second section (rows 3 to 5) contains Hepworth's white marble pieces, which are quite exceptionally well displayed and lit. (To whoever is in charge of indoor lighting at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park: you seriously rock, dude.) There was just one obstacle in this gallery: the sweet but ultimately distracting pair of standard issue Alan Bennett/Victoria Wood Comedy Yorkshire Ladies, who we couldn't quite shake off, with their running commentary on the pieces. ("Ooh, I could live with that one, Maureen." "They're quite textural, aren't they?" "Well I'm sorry, but that's just a bidet and a urinal.")

The third section - which is apparently the largest collection of full-scale Hepworths ever to be displayed together in the open air - is located in an area adjacent to the Park's permanent installation of nine Hepworth pieces, Family Of Man (row 6). Our favourite piece was the group of four, as shown on the bottom row, where the relationships between the four objects shifted as you walked around the group.

More information about the exhibition (which runs until September 14) can be found here and here.

(Click on each thumbnail to enlarge.)

1 (-) kraftwerk: tour de france soundtracks

Album of the summer round our way, by quite some distance. Utterly timeless, as if the 17 year gap between this and the last Kraftwerk album had never happened. Intensely, physically rhythmic, but subtly, organically so – no oppressive boom-boom-thwackery here! Because this is music inspired by the constant rhythmic motion of the lone cyclist on the open road, not the mashed-up clubber on the communal dancefloor.

It therefore follows that this album also makes for wonderfully atmospheric driving music. This became particularly apparent during a long trek through the Derbyshire dark peaks, en route to the Barbara Hepworth exhibition at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park. Although we had started the journey in blazing sunshine (sun roof down, sunglasses on), thick storm clouds enveloped us as soon as we were north of Buxton. Despite the light drizzle, we doggedly refused to put the roof back up – there was a bright patch in the far distance, which we were bound to hit once we were beyond the peaks. In fact, we became quite convinced that before the end of the album, we would suddenly cross back into the sunshine, and that this would somehow be reflected in the music.

As the end of the album approached, this was becoming a matter of some urgency.

The final track is a slightly tweaked re-release of the original 1983 Tour De France single, whose overall mood stands somewhat apart from the rest of the album: sweeter, more melodic, more major-key, like a resolution. Perfect sun-coming-out music, in other words. The patch of clear blue sky ahead had been growing bigger and bigger. We could see the sun lighting the fields over to our left, only a couple of fields away. Come on, come on! And then, finally, less than a minute into the final track, we suddenly flipped from chilly gloom into sun-drenched warmth. Seconds later, the radiantly lovely main theme started up. Beaming from ear to ear, we stretched back, leaned our faces into the sun, and began air-conducting the rest of the track.

(Oh, and the exhibition? Stunning. You must see it. If you need further persuading, I even have photos, which I’ll get round to loading up sometime soon.)

2 (-) rolling stones: black and blue

Second most-played album of the holiday, as picked up on a whim, and on the cheap, from Fopp Records. The only Stones album which I ever owned on vinyl, this provided a significant part of the soundtrack to the Long Hot Summer of 1976, mere seconds before the Autumn Of Punk blew my musical tastes out of the water. It’s the sound of a band stretching out and enjoying the peak of their success, with nothing left to prove, who are taking a sideways step into some of the other music which they love (funk, reggae, swampy New Orleansy piano-driven blues). Overlooked by the critics, who never seem to have fully grasped just what is so enjoyable about its easy-going swagger, this has always felt like my Stones album. Their greatest songs may be elsewhere, but in terms of overall mood, this will always be my favourite. (And did I mention that Dymbel and I will be seeing them this Friday at Wembley Arena?)

3 (-) norman jay & joey: good times vol.3

Released just in time for carnival, this is a delicious mish-mash of soul, funk, reggae, disco, rare groove, house, acoustic…and, ooh, anything else which might sound good on a smoking sound system in the late August sunshine.

4 (-) 4 hero: life:styles

Obscure jazz-funk gems from the 70s and early 80s, which will convert nobody (it’s all a bit niche) - but if this sort of stuff is your thing, then this will do very well indeed. Contains Music Is My Sanctuary by Gary Bartz, which is one of the best jazz-funk tracks ever, as any fule kno.



5 (re) ibrahim ferrer: buenos hermanos

Best enjoyed with early evening cosmopolitans in the PDMG, this album suddenly started making renewed sense all over again while we were on holiday. Funny, that.

6 (5) steely dan: everything must go

Much better than their previous “comeback” album (Two Against Nature), this is Ver Dan sounding immaculately timeless, as only Ver Dan can, man. Does this make them the Kraftwerk of AOR, one wonders?

7 (17) goldfrapp: black cherry

Perv-glam-electro-disco-meets-smoky-torch-song wondrousness that refuses to go away. I’ve got a story to tell about Strict Machine (the most recent single), but it will have to wait. Again.

8 (1) mariza: fado curvo

The Platinum Blonde Amazonian Goddess Who Is Mariza will be playing a few UK live dates in the Autumn. I think a trip to Birmingham might be in order here.



9 (-) super furry animals: phantom power

A great album for pruning the massive pink rambling rose which sprawls all over the corner wall overlooking the street below - an operation which took me three afternoons, leaving me with an impressive array of Richie Manic-style cuts up both forearms, and the most extraordinary sense of personal satisfaction. During the course of this exercise, my discman wedged into the pockets of my shorts, I quickly discovered that neat and tidy little three minute guitar-band songs made for the most efficient and effective soundtrack. Something to with concentration levels, I expect.

There’s something very carefree and summery about the mood of this whole album. Even though the lyrics are probably all about, I dunno, Particle Physics or something. I really should have listened more carefully by now, shouldn’t I?

10 (4) radiohead: hail to the thief

Another classic pruning album. The thing for me about Radiohead is this - whenever they bring a new album out, I always start by thinking: ooh dear me no, they’ve lost it this time. But then something keeps me playing it, and after about two or three months I end up loving it. As such, Hail To The Thief is rather taking its time – but I’m slowly getting there.

11 (-) dizzee rascal: boy in da corner

Parts of this album make me want to scream “This is GENIUS!” at the top of my voice. However, there always comes a point, about five or six tracks in, when my head fills up and I start to think: yup, had enough Genius for now, thanks. Like Gentleman’s Relish, to be savoured in small, concentrated doses.

12 (2) ulrich schnauss: far away trains passing by

Been playing this for months and months. Still love it. Relaxing and stirring in equal measure.

13 (-) audio bullys: ego war

This didn’t go so well with the pruning. Too edgy, too urban. Good, very good, but absolutely not a summer album. I’m waiting till the weather turns before getting into this one.



14 (-) swayzak: fabric 11

Those Fabric mix CDs really are awfully good, aren’t they? And just as I had finally stopped buying mix CDs, as well. This starts off with sparse, tickly, atmospheric “micro-house”, before getting significantly beatier in the second half. It also contains my new theme tune, LCD Soundsystem’s Losing My Edge, in which an aging uber-hipster laments being overtaken by an impeccably clued-up younger generation, cataloguing all his best hipster credentials in the process (“…but I was there!”) The fact that this single had been out for a full year before I had ever heard it only serves to compound the irony.

15 (-) kings of leon: youth & young manhood

The NME’s band du jour deliver an enjoyable enough pastiche of Southern boogie, which will do nicely for the next couple of months or so. I’ll be amazed if I’m still playing it in six months’ time, though.

16 (-) various: sniffin' glue

As compiled by the editor of the “legendary” punk fanzine (Mark Perry, later of Alternative TV), this is probably the most accurate soundtrack of the punk “explosion” that I’ve yet heard. But then, I bought every issue of Sniffin’ Glue from #3 onwards, reading it from cover to cover, over and over again, as if it was the literal, revealed truth. For me, the punk fanzines were every bit as important as the records back then. In fact, The Clash became my official Favourite Band purely on the strength of their interview in Sniffin’ Glue #4, months before I had heard a single note of their music…

17 (10) red hot chili peppers: by the way

Yes, I’m still playing it. This album is so thoroughly unhip that enjoying it almost feels like a subversive act. But I just can’t help myself. It works, dammit!

18 (6) grandaddy: sumday

K hates this. (“Who is this weedy little git who wants to be Neil Young?”) I’m quite partial, but then again, I could quite happily never hear it again. The Sophtware Slump was much better than this.



19 (-) bent: FABRICLIVE.11

There’s a point about halfway through this mix, when K will always get up and close the connecting door. It’s the point where the beats kick in, and things start getting unequivocally clubby…before mellowing back down at the end, in particular with Jean Carn’s classic Was That All it Was.

20 (re) gotan project: la revancha del tango

Disappointing when we saw them live at Somerset House, for three main reasons.

1) They reproduced most of the album exactly, note for note. I’m not denying the technical skill that must have gone into this, but it doesn’t exactly make for a thrilling live experience.

2) Lovely as it is (and it’s certainly our most played album of the last two years), it’s still, in the final analysis, music for talking over the top of. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but when the entire audience continues to hold loud dinner party conversations with each other all the way through the set (“I know Delia always says Tuscany, but we like to take the flavours a little further south…”), then one’s enjoyment is, shall we say, a little constrained.

3) Spending the first two-thirds of the set playing behind a gauzy screen onto which arty visuals are projected, so that all we can see of you are a few vague, shadowy outlines, might work down the ICA, darlings - but not at a large open-air concert on a fine summer’s evening, when everyone wants to kick back and get into the, uh, groove. Could you manage a little more sweat, spirit and spontaneity next time, please?

21 (21) blur: think tank

At this stage, a comfortable old pal of an album.

22 (-) various: channel 2 (a compilation of output recordings)

Hipster electro of varying degrees of quality, but it does contain that LCD Soundsystem track again.

23 (-) kevin ayers & the whole world: shooting at the moon (original recording remastered)

Loony psychedelic whimsy from the cult hero of my early-to-mid teens.

24 (7) morrissey: under the influence

The Diana Dors track isn’t that great, Moz. Interesting choices none the less.

25 (11) justin timberlake: justified

King of Pop! Probably the one album on this list that will be the most fondly remembered in ten years’ time.

26 (re) duoud: wild serenade

Blah blah world music blah blah innovative fusion of influences blah blah seamless blend of traditional and contemporary blah blah. Floats my boat, any road up.

27 (14) kevin ayers: joy of a toy (original recording remastered)

If you’re going to buy just one Kevin Ayers album, then this is probably the one to get.

28 (20) madonna: american life

Some days, I love it. Some days, it irritates the f**k out of me.

29 (-) broadcast: haha sound

Only played a couple of times so far. You like Saint Etienne? You like Stereolab? You like fractionally out of tune girl singers doing sixties-style “ba ba ba’s”? Then you’ll love this.

30 (8) various: the best northern soul all-nighter... ever

An absolutely definitive selection. Get the talc out!

31 (-) kevin ayers: whatevershebringswesing (original recording remastered)

And if you’re going to buy two Kevin Ayers albums, then get this as well. Or maybe Bananamour instead. No, this one.

32 (-) various: rough trade shops - post punk vol 01

Again, I’m waiting for colder weather before getting into this.

33 (-) richard x: presents his x-factor vol.1

Hate to be so superficial, but this is at least six months too late. Plus, too much advance publicity has killed off the essential surprise factor.

34 (3) zongamin: zongamin

I’ve throroughly enjoyed playing this album over the last few months. But you know sometimes, when you put an album on which you’ve been playing quite a lot up till then, and you suddenly think: OK, I’ve heard this enough times now? This happened to me last year with the Cornershop album, and it’s happened again this year with Zongamin. Thank you, it’s been lovely, see you around sometime, OK?

35 (-) colder: again

I’m putting this at #35 as an Awful Warning. Dreary whiney semi-trendy half-baked tosh, and he can’t sing his way out of a paper bag. So there.

In her later years, my paternal grandmother would often compare her brain to a washing machine - in that random memories would, for no particular reason, suddenly be churned up to the top of the machine, and into her mind's eye. As for me, there were certainly times over the last two or three days when my brain also felt like a washing machine. Albeit one which had become stuck on Spin and Rinse.

Maybe this is genetic. Or maybe there was some other reason. Who knows?

No matter. Let's put the machine back on for one more spin cycle, and see what we come up with.

1. At a considerably smaller but no less delightful London Blogmeet, the table was awash with rumour, intrigue, and cute stuffed animals (which had apparently been brought along for identification purposes). Did I know that this blogger was dating that blogger? (No, I didn't.) Did I know that a certain much publicised and decidedly controversial Blogging Event from last year was due to make a return sometime soon? (Bring it on, I say.) Did I know that Acerbia was being relaunched today? (Cartoon nudity ahoy!)

2. A first-hand story about Westlife (not mine for the telling), which revealed all but one of them to be utter, utter cnuts. Sorry Chig!

(Not that all popstars are such utter, utter cnuts...not by a long chalk. A friend of mine was recently telling me about the newly anointed Reality TV Pop Star who was staying in his hotel, while performing on her first major tour. On the morning after the show, she rang reception to ask for some Ajax and a scouring pad. These were duly delivered to her room. When asked why these were needed, she replied "Well, I've got nothing to clean the bath with." Ah, bless!)

3. Having a full-on Late Seventies Paradise Garage Classic New York Disco Moment with the lovely Marcus down at Queer Nation, to the strains of No One Gets The Prize by Diana Ross. This must have been my fourth or fifth visit to Queer Nation over the years, and I have yet to hear them play a bad record.

4. Getting a cheeky text from Nigel the (formerly) Invisible Stranger, shortly after purchasing my wristband for the RVT. "Nice checked shirt..." (OK, now I'm freaked out.) Less than ten minutes later, we were chatting away on the filthy clump of fag-butt-strewn wasteland which is euphemistically referred to as the "grassy knoll". A full twelve hours later, we were still (just about) coming up with new topics of conversation. I think this is known as "hitting it off".

5. Nigel getting a phone call from a friend, and explaining that he was sitting outside the RVT with Mike of Troubled Diva. "What? Troubled Diva? You're with Troubled Diva?", she exclaimed. "But I read him! And I even have one of his coffee mugs! Let me talk to him!"

(Well, words to that effect, at any rate.)

(And have you got your Troubled Diva coffee mug yet? And if not, then why not?)

6. A perfectly enjoyable, but still somewhat less-than-classic performance from the D.E. Experience, whose singing voice none the less pisses all over every single one of this year's Fame Academy and Pop Idol contestants (although I'm keeping tabs on Alex, the "Queen of Angst"). It takes a brave soul to attempt to re-create Aretha Franklin's rendition of Respect (especially if, like me, Ms. Franklin is your official Favourite Singer Of All Time), but you know what? She pulled it off, she really did.

7. Some fantastic mixing from Andy Almighty, who uses the tools available to CD DJs to great effect, often dropping little teaser samples of tunes into the mix ages before playing them in full. In particular, he kept me in eager anticipation of Sheryl Lee Ralph's old chestnut "In The Evening (the real me comes alive)" for a good twenty minutes or so...

8. Realising that, for all their many and obvious differences, the RVT shares one major characteristic with the Golden Age of Trade. It might be fast, frenzied and full-on - but it's also mellow and relaxed at precisely the same time, with the same sense of "family" about it, right down to the way that all the regulars keep to their same little spots every week. It's for people who have been around the block a few times, who have largely grown out of the more irritating attitudes, game-playing and general falsehoods of the mainstream commercial gay scene. Meaning that Seasoned Playas turned latter-day Country Mice such as myself can feel very quickly at home there.

9. Nigel turning to me - I think this was after a particularly spirited word-for-word "interpretive mime" session to the strains of the cheesy Almighty disco cover version of "Life On Mars", although my memory is a leetle woozy at around this point - and observing, with some fair degree of wry amusement, "You're actually quite camp, aren't you?"

10. Standing on the pavement outside the pub with a hundred or so similarly sweaty queens, when a double-decker bus emerged from underneath the railway bridge, full of revellers returning to Brixton from their annual outing to the Notting Hill Carnival. The entire top deck - and believe me, I do mean the entire top deck - is on their feet, jumping around, blowing whistles, waving, whooping and cheering at us, while we all whoop, screech and wave back at them. I think this is called "two communities paying their respects to each other". Whatever it is, it's the single most fabulous moment of a singularly fabulous weekend.

Breaking news: It would seem that I am linked to one of the female bloggers on my sidebar by a grand total of seven bonks, including three major celebrities - and to one of the male bloggers on my sidebar by six bonks. But if you want to find out who, and how, then you'll have to do your own detective work. Because we're not quite that tabloid...

Finally, my Interviews And Photo Shoots posting has won this week's coveted Make Blue Witch Laugh Award. So do I get a jar of honey, then?

(I nearly forgot the obligatory annoying Linky Love round-up: Karen-and-Pete, London Mark, Stuart Hg, D, Ann (aka Pix), Aquarion, LoneCat, Kevin, city_slacker, Marcus, Janne, Pano, Nigel, Jonathan, Steve, Dave, Guy, and Kerching, and Crusher, and, erm, did I miss anybody? Oh, and Hi to Garki, if he's reading this...)