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Friday, March 02, 2007

Freelance Friday #2

Important! For those of you who don't come here for all this pop music nonsense, you might prefer to jump straight to this week's two non-music posts: Imminent ghettoisation alert and Inland Empire. One's a bit gay, and the other's a bit arty.

For this week's clutch of freelance music features, we have:

1. ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead - gig review.
2. Golden Afrique Vol.3 - album review.
3. The Musical Box (Genesis tribute band) - interview with "Phil Collins".
4. Los Campesinos! - gig review.

Another busy week, then. Next week will probably be a little calmer - and not before time, either...

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Los Campesinos! – The Social, Nottingham, Thursday March 1.

An edited version of this review originally appeared in the Nottingham Evening Post.

Although they have been playing for under a year, and are juggling their musical activities with full-time degree courses, Los Campesinos! have already built up the sort of grassroots buzz that other, more career-minded young bands would kill for. As yet uncorrupted by success, the Cardiff seven-piece radiates a shambling, unforced charm which is hugely endearing.

Their songs are complex, cleverly worked affairs, stuffed full to bursting with tricksy arrangements, unexpected changes and literate, articulate lyrics. Despite all this precociousness, the material remains accessible, catchy and melodic. Yes, it’s as indie as indie gets – but there’s none of the sullen dourness which so often mars the genre. John Peel would have adored them, without a doubt. As one song puts it, their aim is “to find the perfect match between pretentious and pop". You have to love them for it.

The band’s sound is propelled by fluid, chiming guitar runs, and augmented with violin, glockenspiel and melodica. Their short, energetic set climaxed with the crowd favourite and future classic You! Me! Dancing!, and the equally anthemic Sweet Dreams, Sweet Cheeks. These are still early days, but their potential is huge. Once those finals are out of the way, there’ll be no stopping them.

(Yup - as of yesterday, Los Campesinos! are my new favourite band. Download both sides of their new single for free from their official website, and download four more tracks from the BBC website.)

Update #1: Local blogger Lord Bargain was also there last night as well - good to meet you at last, Lord B - and his decidely more measured review can be found here.

Update #2: I have Ben at Silent Words Speak Loudest to thank for alerting me to the band in the first place - and here's an excellent interview which he did with them last month, for the final issue of a free magazine called Vanity Project.

Labels: eveningpost, gigs, popmusic

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The Musical Box: interview with Martin Levac.

This article originally appeared in the Nottingham Evening Post.

Unlike many tribute acts, whose sometimes embarrassingly creaky impersonations don’t tend to earn them much in the way of artistic respect, The Musical Box’s astonishingly accurate re-creations of Genesis tours from the mid-1970s have brought them wide acclaim – not least from the original members of Genesis themselves. In advance of their Selling England By The Pound show at the Royal Concert Hall next week, EG spoke to the band’s “Phil Collins” figure, the French-Canadian drummer Martin Levac.

The Musical Box are particularly known for the painstaking level of authentic detail which they apply to their performances. How did they set about doing their research?

“The original source material belongs to our artistic director, Serge Morissette. He’s a big Genesis fan, and he has been collecting things over the years: pictures, videos and live tapes. He put this all together, and we reproduced things as exactly as we could.”

Since video hadn’t really taken off in the 1970s, was there much footage available?

“Not much – but there are a couple of TV shows that they did at that time, with the Selling England songs, and also some footage from Shepperton Studios, where they recorded part of Selling England as a show. But for The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway, for instance, it was much more difficult to get all these things together. Because they didn’t film anything, we had to scratch down very deep to get all the details.”

When scoring the music, does the band look to the recorded versions, or do they use the live versions from the bootleg tapes, which are sometimes significantly re-worked?

“The concept of The Musical Box is that visually, it’s a re-creation of the live shows – but musically, we want to get as close as possible to the records. So the parts we’re playing are from the original records, because everybody knows them. If we used the bootlegs, people wouldn’t recognise the exact same sounds that are played on the records. Genesis changed things as they went along - especially Phil Collins, who was a very jamming drummer. He had a very jazzy approach, so he used to change his parts all the time. He never played the same song twice the same way.”

Was there much input from Genesis fans? Did they have information to impart?

“Our musical director Serge is in touch with many people who are as crazy about Genesis as he is, so that’s been helpful over the years. In fact, it still is – because after this tour, we may plan to do A Trick of the Tail. Serge is working on this right now, getting all the visual stuff together.”

Considering that The Musical Box have always concentrated on the “classic” period from 1972 to 1975, this news comes as quite a surprise. After all, many Genesis fans felt that the band were never the same after Peter Gabriel’s departure…

“Times change. Back in 1975, when Phil Collins took the mike and came to the front of the stage, there were many people who simply quit Genesis and said it was never going to be the same. But there were also many others who discovered them in 1976-77. I spoke with a lot of fans, signing autographs after the gigs – and with everybody I spoke to, the message is always the same. They would be thrilled to see the Seconds Out tour, for instance. So, Trick of the Tail, Wind and Wuthering… and maybe in five or six years they would be thrilled to see Abacab, I don’t know…”

As the drummer – and therefore the guy who represents Phil Collins – would Martin also leave the drum kit and take over lead vocals for the 1976-77 material?

“Yes I would. We would go through auditions, to find a guy who looks and plays like Bill Bruford in 1976. Then our approach would have to be changed, so as to adapt some of the live versions of the songs.”

On the current tour, the song More Fool Me at the end of Selling England was sung by Phil. Is that a song that Martin performs on stage?

“Yes I do. It’s quite interesting to perform that, because the reaction is very warm. We didn’t expect it at first, because of that original rage against Collins when Gabriel left – but that seems to have disappeared over the years, and people are very pleased to hear More Fool Me every night. When we don’t do it, they shout out for it!”

Genesis fans have always been a difficult bunch to please, in any case. There was even hostility when I Know What I Like became a hit single in 1974, as it was seen as too blatantly “commercial” a move. Even Selling England By The Pound was originally compared unfavourably to its predecessor Foxtrot – and yet it’s now considered by many people to be the definitive album from the band’s prog-rock period.

“Exactly, and it’s the same with A Trick of the Tail. Personally it’s one of my favourites, because I think they went so far into the music. Songs like Dance On A Volcano, Robbery Assault and Battery – musically speaking, it’s very interesting.”

Over the past few years, nearly all of the original members of Genesis – including Peter Gabriel – have attended a Musical Box show. On one occasion, Phil Collins even performed with the band on stage. Collins has since admitted to feeling terrified at the time, as he felt he could no longer play the numbers with sufficient accuracy.

“He was very nervous – but we had a chat together, drummer to drummer, and it was cool. He told me that his chops as a drummer were at their peak in 1977 with Brand X – but since then, he’s been concentrating on writing songs, and playing back beats, and that’s what he enjoys doing now. He told me that back then, he had to prove himself as a good drummer. He would listen to jazz and fusion stuff – but after that, he became a pop fan, listening to Motown and so on.”

“He ended the conversation by saying: well Martin, I’m gonna try and make you proud of me tonight. I said: you’re making me proud by just being here today! He was very kind.”

Having earned that kind of testimonial, it’s no wonder that The Musical Box have been attracting die-hard Genesis fans in their droves, at major venues all across the world. And if their efforts have been deemed good enough for one of rock music’s most notoriously picky fan bases, then perhaps that’s the ultimate accolade of them all.

Labels: eveningpost, interviews, popmusic

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Album review: Golden Afrique Vol.3

This review originally appeared as part of Stylus Magazine's new monthly world music column.

Following widely acclaimed historical round-ups of West African (Vol.1) and Congolese (Vol.2) musical styles, this exemplary series now turns its attentions southwards. Disc One traces the development of South African music from 1939 to 1998, covering all its best-known genres: Mbube, Kwela, Kwaito, and Mbaquanga, a.k.a. “township jive.” The emphasis is on dance grooves rather than song structures, and although over half the tracks rely on the exact same ascending three-chord sequence, the defiantly joyous spirit of the apartheid-era “shebeens” is equally all-pervading.

Disc Two, which splits equally between Zimbabwe and Zambia, is dominated by the sort of pealing, tumbling guitar lines which came to prominence in the mid ‘80s, via bands such as the Bhundu Boys. There’s less rawness and more fluidity, but the overall celebratory vibe is equally intoxicating.

(Samples from the album's 34 tracks can be streamed here.)

Labels: albums, popmusic

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...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead, Nottingham Rescue Rooms, Sunday February 25.

An edited version of this review originally appeared in the Nottingham Evening Post.

Judging by Jason Reece’s decidedly jaded, world-weary interview with the Post last week, you might have thought that the Trail of Dead were something of a spent force; ground down by the gruelling repetition of touring, and suffering from a cool reception and a lack of promotion for So Divided, their most recent release.

On stage, none of that cynicism was in evidence. The band, now fleshed out to a six-piece, delivered an impassioned, committed performance in front of a wildly enthusiastic crowd, which sported one of Nottingham’s more mature mosh pits. It was heartening to see that teenage “emo” audiences don’t enjoy a monopoly on having a raucous good time.

That said, tracks from So Divided were conspicuous by their almost total absence. Maybe it’s not just the critics and the record company who nurse doubts about its worth. Instead, we were treated to a retrospective set, largely drawn from 2002’s Source Tags and 2005’s Worlds Apart.

Although a far cry from the thrashy young pups who blew the roof off The Social and The Boat Club back in 2000, relative maturity suits the Trail of Dead well. This was an assured, powerful, controlled set, climaxing with a stunning rendition of old favourite Mistakes and Regrets.

(With thanks to Alan Sharp of Random Burblings, whose review of the band's earlier Glasgow show was of considerable assistance.)

Labels: eveningpost, gigs, popmusic

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Thursday, March 01, 2007

Which Decade Is Tops For Pops? - voting deadline.

"Closing date for voting will be in a few days time. I haven't yet decided when."

Um... sorry for being picky, but this is screaming SETUP! at me.

Will your decision be based at all on the decades you fancy looking like they're in with a chance? Hmmm?

Only joking. I know you wouldn't do such a thing. But maybe an early announcement would prevent any more unsavoury speculation...

Very well, Clare. Let it never be said that Which Decade is ever anything but whiter-than-white.

The voting deadline for this year's Which Decade is Sunday night (March 4, 2007).

Let the unsavoury speculations cease forthwith.

Labels: whichdecade07

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Inland Empire.

Yesterday, I attended a morning press screening of the forthcoming David Lynch movie, Inland Empire. An extravagant use of my precious annual leave entitlement, I grant you – but then I’m not often invited to these things, and it sounded like a fun little experience to tick off the list.

Although I make a point of never reading film reviews, in case they reveal more than I need to know, I was aware that Inland Empire is three hours long, complex, and plotless. I decided to take this as a challenge.

(Sitting on my own, in silence, for three uninterrupted hours, trying to concentrate on something impossibly complicated, without really having a clue as to what’s going on? Hmm, sounds familiar. Talk about taking a busman’s holiday.)

The film started with a few disconnected scenes, high on surrealism but low on tangible meaning. A needle on a scratchy record. A hooker and a john in a hotel room, their heads smudged out, speaking in an Eastern European tongue. A family of three, with rabbit heads, speaking in non-sequiturs, with an audience laughter track. That sort of thing.

This was all fine. The scenes were slow-moving, and I was primed for weirdness, and so I purposefully committed all the details to memory, for future reference. Weird bits at the beginning have a habit of making retrospective sense, don’t they?

And then, lo and behold, a story started developing. An odd story, to be sure – but rooted in narrative logic, and with properly drawn characters, and an absolute doddle to follow.

The story was about a successful movie actress (played by Laura Dern) being offered a lead role in a movie, and commencing rehearsals, and of an ambiguous relationship developing between her and her male co-lead. There was a supernatural mystery/suspense element, and some nice interplay between the outer story and the plot of the film-within-the-film. This being David Lynch, there was also a vague sense of looming peril. It was all rather enjoyable. Jeremy Irons was in it. Harry Dean Stanton played an amusing cameo role. William H. Macy made a fleeting appearance. There were even a couple of scenes where I was able to successfully predict what was about to happen.

At around the thirty or forty minute mark, I had a flash of insight, as the inevitable arc of the story suddenly became clear. This was followed by a stab of disappointment. Two and a half hours to go, and I basically knew what was going to happen, and why. How on earth were they going to fill the time?

Minutes later, the chaos kicked in, as Laura Dern’s character began to wander between different realities, with ever-decreasing connecting logic. Locations and time scales dissolved. Dern’s personal circumstances altered, as did her mannerisms, and indeed her whole character. Certain familiar faces re-appeared, in varying guises (but not Irons, or Stanton, or Macy, all of whom disappeared). The sense of looming peril ratcheted up a good few notches. All certainties vanished, to the extent that I found myself longing for the film to return to its original story. The longer that the chaos continued, the more my nostalgia for the opening thirty or forty minutes increased.

This bewildering entropy went on, and on, and on, for two and a half trippy, dream-like hours. My concentration lapsed, badly, to the extent where I kept chastising myself for my inability to keep a grasp of the details. If only I could have committed that scene to memory, then this scene might have made more sense.

However, for all the wheels within wheels and world within worlds, all the earlier dramatic tension was lost. Dern’s previously subtle, compelling performance was reduced to a clutch of stock expressions – in particular, an expression of uncomprehending, open-mouthed terror, which became progressively more irksome.

I stopped caring, and started yawning, fidgeting and clock-watching. Hours passed.

There was a fun little formation dancing scene, set to Little Eva’s “The Locomotion”.

Etta James’s “At Last” popped up on the soundtrack. It was nice to hear it again.

There was a suburban barbecue scene, slightly grainy and oversaturated, like an old home movie. Something happened at a circus. I forget what.

There were occasional pieces of relatively straightforward dialogue or monologue, which teased me into hoping that they might explain something or other. I would prick up my ears for a while, before slouching back into itchy exasperation, or glazed ennui. These sometimes took place in a grimy, low-rent office, with Dern explaining her plight to a man behind a desk, who never spoke.

Was there ever a resolution? Of sorts, yes. But only a partial one. I’m saying nothing else.

For about half an hour afterwards, as I ordered and consumed my late-lunchtime coffee and sandwich in the Atlas deli, I felt disorientated and spaced out. Everything had a slightly surreal sheen to it, as if I wasn’t quite physically present. I went shopping, caught a cab home, then mooched about on the computer for a bit.

My prediction: critical panning, commercial flop, cult longevity – especially with the sort of 19-year stoners who delight in spotting and swapping arbitrary and entirely accidental “clues”. (“But the number on the door was 47, man! Think about it!”)

No, I don’t recommend it. Glad to be of service.

Labels: films, journal

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Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Which Decade Is Tops For Pops? - Year 5 - the Number 1s.

What a eventful Which Decade it has been thus far. As we enter the final round, all eyes are on the mid-table tussle between the 1970s, 1990s and 2000s. It already looks certain that our most recent two decades will, for the first time ever, not occupy the bottom two places - but more excitingly than that, there's a very real chance that one of them might end up finishing in second place. Just how consensus-busting is that, pop-pickers?

Shall we crack on? Bring 'em out - it's the Number Ones!

1967: This Is My Song - Petula Clark. (video, in French)
1977: When I Need You - Leo Sayer. (video, in a tree, with Muppets)
1987: I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me) - George Michael & Aretha Franklin. (video)
1997: Discotheque - U2. (video)
2007: Grace Kelly - Mika. (video)
Listen to a short medley of all five songs.

As with the Hump, so with Our Pet. Sitting at Number One in 1967, we find - possibly to our slight dismay, given the excitement of the lower positions - a second consecutive Forces Family Favourite, performed by that doyenne of the Light Programme, Miss Petula Clark.

To further underline its pre-rock-and-roll credentials, "This Is My Song" was composed by none other than Charlie Chaplin, who had originally envisaged it as the instrumental theme from his final movie, A Countess In Hong Kong. Having penned some English lyrics to sit over the top, Chaplin was all set to offer the song to Al Jolson, unaware that he had passed away 17 years earlier. Thus thwarted (and it allegedly took a photo of Jolson's grave to convince him), the song was next offered to Chaplin's neighbour in Switzerland, the aforementioned Miss Clark.

Never exactly thrilled with the English lyrics (and who could blame her, for with all its beatific talk of smiling flowers, one wonders whether Chaplin was conducting some era-appropriate psychedelic experiments of his own), Clark soon took to performing the song in French as much as possible - as evidenced by the video which I've linked to above. Meanwhile, a rival version by Harry Secombe entered the charts in March, overtaking Petula's version a few weeks later, and eventually peaking at Number Two.

All of which is a lot more interesting than "This Is My Song" itself. Good grief, 1967. What were you thinking?

"Everybody loves Leo!" (Leo Sayer, 2007)

My Crypto-Maoist Year Zero Punk Rocker fifteen-year old self might have been wrong about "Daddy Cool" and "Boogie Nights", but he's not about to make any posthumous concessions to "When I Need You". Boring then, boring now. Next!

Poor old Aretha Franklin. Having been roped in by Annie Lennox to add a bit of weight to "Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves", she was now doing the same thing for George Michael: another early 1980s pop star who was busily trying to swap delusions of Style and Subversion for delusions of Authenicity, Passion and Commitment. "I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)" is an OK enough tune, but it doesn't half sag under the weight of its own "meeting of the giants" self-importance, what the Ross/Turner-invoking references to "rivers", "mountains" and "valleys". Don't be blinded by nostalgia, Voters Of A Certain Age!

Let us now turn to the vexed question of U2: a band whose lumbering earnestness turned me right off in the 1980s, and whose equally lumbering attempts at corrective "irony" turned me off equally in the 1990s. (Although I will concede that the not-too-earnest, not-too-silly synthesis of their 2000s work really hasn't been too bad at all.) Come on, now: "Discotheque" is basically a collection of admittedly quite groovy noises in search of a song, isn't it? Well, can you remember how it goes? Thought not.

And so, finally to Mika: an act upon whom I have resisted Forming A Position for quite long enough. Having been perfectly vile about all of our other Number Ones, it would only be fair to be equally vile about "Grace Kelly".

However, not only I am absolutely f**king desperate for the 2000s to come second, I am also quite fond of this arch little show-tune confection, which makes a pleasingly theatrical Grand Finale to this year's offerings. It communicates little beyond "I Am The Fabulous Multi-Talented Mika, And You Must Love Me As Much As I Love Myself" - but in pop, we can allow that. For the course of a single, at least.

(As for the album, I'm with Pete: rarely has an act got on my tits as rapidly as this uppity charlatan. Oh wait, I forgot about Joanna Newsom.)

My votes: Mika - 5 points. George Michael & Aretha Franklin - 4 points. U2 - 3 points. Leo Sayer - 2 points. Petula Clark - 1 point.

This is it, then. The final vote. Unless late votes on the other rounds throw a spanner in the works - and they still quite easily might - the 1960s would appear to have it in the bag, although I'm forecasting last place for Pet. Meanwhile, the nostalgia factor might well give the 1980s a final shot in the arm. But whither the 2000s? Where do you stand on Mika? Or will you defend U2 against my heinous slurs? Or does everybody really love Leo? Over to you.

Running totals so far - Number 1s.

2007: Grace Kelly - Mika (119)

Absolutely love this - a perfect pop single. Still haven't tired of it after hours of over-exposure. (Sarah)

Best by a mile. Always makes me smile. I have even been known to dance round the kitchen to this song. (Clare)

Until Sarah played me this on Saturday night, I had so far completely avoided this record. I hated Mika entirely on the basis that his album cover screamed "SWISS, YOU ARE GOING TO DESPISE THIS RECORD" to me. I found him irritating in the extreme after about 5 tracks, but I have to admit that this record works for me. Top marks! (SwissToni)

I haven't heard the Mika album and have no intention of doing so. But as a one-off, the return of pomp and circumstance to the charts that is "Grace Kelly" is very welcome. I think it's a bit unfair that everyone seems to have latched on the "Why don't you like me?" line and translated that as: Mika just wants everyone to love him. I'm prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that the sentiment is directed only at the significant other of the song's narrator. Above all, however, "Grace Kelly" is great to sing along to - which I always do when it comes on the radio, even (especially) the falsetto bits! (jeff w)

First time I heard this, not so long ago, I did think it was Scissor Sisters for a moment, then, ooo there's a touch of Freddie M there. So I went to find more. Big mistake. But this has an ascending notes earworm quality that's catchy enough. (asta)

So this is the latest hot thing of 2007? That's neat that's neat that's neat, I really love your Tyger Feet. Not sure what it's got to do with one of the icons of the 20th century. A bit worrying that I like it because of its resemblance to Mud...Don't feel a need ever to hear it again, though. (Gert)

This could just be one of those infectious pop songs that I love at the time, and then spend a decade avoiding until its rehabilitation in WDITFP (so what's going to happen to it if WDITFP will be retired by then?!?), but this is its time, so today it wins. (Adrian)

Reprises some of the sounds of the sixties and seventies that we've heard in these charts. (Amanda)

Who else could marry Ben Folds and the Darkness? (Geoff)

Takes away the Scissor Sisters' classiness and chucks in the kitchen sink. (betty)

He has one other good song - "Relax (Take It Easy)". I'm quite shocked at how bad - and how derivative (the Scissor Sisters should sue) the rest of the album is. It's nicely arranged, but talk about polishing a turd... (mike)

The worst song of the year, completely hideous. Like a nightmarish cross between The Darkness and Scissor Sisters – the “so I try a little Freddie mmm” bit is particularly cringeworthy. This is one earworm I’d rather be without! (loomer)

1987: I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me) - George Michael & Aretha Franklin (96)

Not exactly a classic, but so much better than the competition. I like this a lot. It's well written. I'm not a big Aretha fan but she's a talented professional. And George! (Gert)

Well, at least they can both bloody sing. (betty)

At the time, I think he needed her more than she needed him. (diamond geezer)

I can't quite believe that Aretha did this song, but that voice is just sensational, even on this material. They're not a terribly believable pair either are they? (SwissToni)

I haven't thought much of anything recorded by her since, oh, 1972. She coasted on her Queen of Soul wheels all through the 80s and it's evident in this song. Still. It's Aretha. Oh yeah, there's somebody else on this song too. He doesn't muck it up too much so, yes second place. (asta)

Regardless that it's a bad song and has a typically bad eighties production, it's still Aretha and she's still got the greatest soul voice ever. (Alan)

Aretha was quite rubbish in the 80s wasn’t she? A long way from either’s best, but catchy enough 80s pop. (loomer)

The soundtrack to a bad St Elmo's Fire rip-off. And that's very bad. (David)

1977: When I Need You - Leo Sayer (79)

I like the pared-down sound of this. It's a bit schmalzy, but the simple instrumentation doesn't overpower the vocals and I think that results in a well-executed love song. (Adrian)

Even at age 11 going on 12 and too young really to notice much of what was going on, I still felt instinctively that this ballad was aimed more at my parents' generation than at me. What saves it now, as with a couple of other singles in the '77 top 10, is the superb craftsmanship of the recording. The song may be a bit of a turd, but it's a highly polished one. (jeff w)

A soppy classic, was this Carole Bayer Sager? Remember it more now for Will Mellor singing it in Hollyoaks and taking it to the charts Robson & Jerome-style, a telling fate. (loomer)

I rather liked him up until this point. Indeed I own "The Show Must go On", "Moonlighting" and "Long Tall Glasses" on 7". But I think he wrote those ones. But not this. (NiC)

Re. earlier Leo Sayer: "One Man Band" was the one for me - and I agree that "When I Need You" marks the moment where he ceased being interesting. (mike)

There's a video of Leo singing You Make Me Feel Like Dancing wearing a skin tight cap sleeved t shirt and disgusting jersey trousers, through which you can see his nipples, his navel and the not very enticing Sayer crown jewels. I've just checked it on YouTube and the picture quality isn't good enough to see the full horror. Thank God. (betty)

I bet they'd have featured this on Crackerjack (I don't think this stands in its favour). (diamond geezer)

Whining and annoying. Okay, it's not totally bad, but I could happily live a lifetime without ever hearing this cheesy contraption again. (Gert)

This song annoyed me for months when it was released. It still has the power to make me grit my teeth. (asta)

How could the muppets descend so low? Yuck - I've always hated this whingey whiney dirge. (Hedgie)

An artist I hated from the very word go. Didn't you just love it on Celeb Big Bruv when he said "I was like Rod Stewart and Elton John, I played in the same league." No, Leo luv, you really didn't, you squeaky-voiced little shortarse. (Alan)

1997: Discotheque - U2 (69)

Loved this and still do. Bless - hooray for them for trying to loosen up. (Hedgie)

It's not prime U2 by any means, and it's off a pretty poor album, but I have to say that I love the swagger of the Edge's guitar on this song. Bono's a burk, but the Edge alone puts this song above the rest of this stuff. I love that sensible Larry Mullen was forced to wear a lyra muscleman top for the pop tour, and that he usually covered it up with a black vest! (SwissToni)

Although I love some of their tracks (and the early albums) - I've never been an obsessive follower of their work. This one just passes me by. (Sarah)

The U2 song has interesting things going on in the background, but by this stage of their careers the band stood for everything that was rotten in the state of pop and thus, even now, must be discouraged at all costs. (jeff w)

I am a U2 fan, but this was about the time they lost it for me. I couldn't understand why such a talented group of rockers was producing commercial pap, without the self-aware irony of the Pet Shop Boys. (Gert)

I actually bought this album on the strength of this single. What strength? I could swear I have never ever heard this track in my life. (David)

This was a single? How did that happen? This would have been the end for most bands. (asta)

They've made a bit of a comeback in the last few years. This was what they came back from. The absolute low point of their entire career. (Alan)

The most overrated band of all time, this is just a rubbish retread of “The Fly”, and I suppose “Vertigo” is a retread of this. Fairly horrible, especially the video, god they’re ugly. There was a Morales mix though, so all is not lost. (loomer)

That bit of guitar on the extended version of New Year's Day. That's the only thing I've ever liked by U2. (betty)

Discotheque? I'd love to dance to this. On Bono's head. (Geoff)

1967: This Is My Song - Petula Clark (57)

I know someone who said her voice was better than Dusty, which I thought was total sacrilege. But she is rather good I suppose. No surprise that there’s a French version, it’s very reminiscent of Piaf. Quite like it, but hardly the most memorable of no 1s. (loomer)

Sounds like it comes from the fifties rather than the sixties. (Amanda)

I don't remember this version, I do remember the Harry Secombe one. Chaplin's songs were always sickly sweet and syrupy, and the only way to pull them off is to sing them with a hefty dose of world-weary cynicism (Smile is the classic example). Petula is just too nicey-nice for it. Actually, Piaf would have been perfect. (Alan)

I like the tune, but words should never have been added. (z)

The instrumentation is deeply irritating. Pet's voice is fine, but she's no Dusty for me. (SwissToni)

This is an earworm of the worst kind. My Dad, whose taste in music was in all other respects admirable, had a weak spot for Petula. I think he had a crush on her. Whatever. Downtown I could handle, but this was beyond the pale. As a point of trivia-- Petula performed in Montreal last March. She's still adored here. Her concert was almost entirely in French. No, I didn't go. (asta)

Although she has a good voice, I was never really aware that she'd released anything other than 'Downtown'. If they're all like this - she probably shouldn't have bothered. (Sarah)

Shame it's not a song, just an arrangement of black dots on a stave. The intervals are all wrong. I think I once wrote a song like that. And the balalaika (or whatever) accompaniment is just incongruous. (Gert)

Decade scores so far (after 9 days).
1 (1) The 1960s (33) -- Flowers are smiling bright! Smiling for our delight!
2 (4) The 1970s (28) -- I never knew there was so much love, keeping me warm night and day!
3 (2) The 2000s (27) -- Should I bend over? Should I look older, just to be put on your shelf?
4 (2) The 1990s (24) -- You can reach, but you can't grab it! You can't hold it, control it, you can't bag it!
5 (5) The 1980s (23) -- When I think of all those disappointments, I just laugh! I just laugh!

Labels: whichdecade07

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Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Imminent ghettoisation alert.

After spending over five and a half years sitting at the same desk (no, let's not even think about it), I am shortly to be moved to a new location in the same office. Nearer the entrance, nearer the reception, nearer the kitchen. You know, nearer the action. Dead hip spot to be in, probably.

This is to allow all the people who work for one particular client to be grouped at the far (unhip) end of the office, so that the rest of us don't get to snoop at them when we walk past. It's a client confidentiality thing. We're thinking that maybe they could wear T-shirts with the client's logo on the front, to remind the rest of us to bow our heads when passing them. That way, we'd minimise the risk of instigating any potentially compromising form of social contact - which could only lead to troublesome questions like "How are you", "How's it going"... and, fatally, "So, how's work?"

Over in the Hip Zone, I'll be sitting at a bank of six desks. One desk will remain unallocated. Two others have been assigned to co-workers who are on permanent secondment in other cities. Another belongs to a colleague who is on maternity leave for the next few months. (She's just dropped. Congratulations, S!)

Which just leaves me and JP, The Pair Of Poofs, all alone in our own fabulous little ghetto. Talk about exclusive!

I'm seeing major accessorisation here. Kylie posters! A mirror ball! A dry ice machine! Multi-coloured rope lighting! A podium! A door-whore! ("Sorry love, but you just wouldn't Fit In.")

Ooh, ooh, and all the heterosexuals will have to run our Fashion Gauntlet, on the way to and from the kitchen.

"State of 'er!"

"Is she wearing that for a BET?"

"LOVE the hair, LOSE the belt."

F**k it. We've had nearly six years of assimilation. Time to unleash the stereotypes.

Labels: gay, journal

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Monday, February 26, 2007

Which Decade Is Tops For Pops? - Year 5 - the Number 2s.

The Beatles. The Rolling Stones. The Monkees. Donovan. Cat Stevens. With that kind of line-up, is it any wonder that the 1960s have been steaming ahead?

With just two days to go, that might all be about to change. Without wishing to get all Gillian McKeith on you, shall we examine the Number Twos?

1967: Release Me - Engelbert Humperdinck.
1977: Don't Cry For Me Argentina - Julie Covington.
1987: Down To Earth - Curiosity Killed The Cat. (video)
1997: Where Do You Go - No Mercy. (video)
2007: Ruby - Kaiser Chiefs. (video)
Listen to a short medley of all five songs.

As played at the wedding of some dear friends of ours (anyone remember the story of Ron and Yvonne?), Engelbert Humperdinck's "Release Me" famously kept The Beatles off the Number One slot, in an act of pop injustice which rivals only the "Vienna"/"Shaddup You Face" debacle of 1981 and the Rod Stewart/Sex Pistols scandal of 1977 for the levels of froth-mouthed outrage which it has inspired. And as epoch-defining chart battles go, The Fabs versus The Hump in 67 easily tops the minor local skirmish that was Blur versus Oasis in 1995. (Hell, it even tops Girls Aloud versus One True Voice in 2002, and that's really saying something.)

Epoch-defining? Hell, yeah. This was Hipsters versus Squares, long-haired layabouts versus Forces Family Favourites, the post-war "never had it so good" generation versus the pre-war "we didn't fight the Battle of Britain for this" generation. And The Hump walked it.

Personally, I can't listen to "Release Me" without experiencing certain olfactory side-effects: Mister Sheen on teak veneer, Blue Grass by Elizabeth Arden, over-boiled cabbage, and the faintest top notes of stale urine. But maybe that's just me.

Sir Andrew Lloyd-Webber's second contribution to this year's Which Decade comes as a salutary reminder that occasionally - not often, but occasionally - he is capable of knocking out a bloody good tune, and "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" stands as his greatest achievement. Or does it? Perhaps the song's greatness is more attributable to Tim Rice's lyrics - sorry darlings, libretto - and most particularly, to Julie Covington's absolutely spot-on performance. She doesn't overdo it, you see. There's a controlled, un-showy integrity to it. She serves the song, not the other way round.

In my tortured teenage years, I managed to twist most song lyrics around so that they became All About Me And My Unique Unrequited Suffering, and "Argentina" was one of the prime examples. God knows how I did it. But, y'know, it still means a lot. Let's not delve further.

Lloyd-Webber is not the only svengali figure from our Number Nines round to make a return in the Number Twos, either. Step forward Frank Farian: the man behind Boney M in the late 70s, Milli Vanilli in the late 80s... and in the late 90s, No Mercy, a Latino three-piece vocal group from Miami. "Where Do You Go" is unashamedly corny Europop, what with its Eurovision-esque Spanish guitars and its 1980s Italo-disco "woh-oh-ohs", and I vaguely seem to remember being massively irritated by it at the time. Ten years on, and the kindly, forgiving Eurovision fan in me finds it perversely enjoyable.

Last time round, Frank from Germany whupped Our Andrew's sorry ass. For this re-match, I'm confidently predicting that the tables will be turned.

During the latter part of 1985, Curiosity Killed The Cat had enjoyed a good deal of attention in the all-important "style press" of the day, leading eager style queenlets such as I to expect something rather special. Plus the band - with the possible exception of gangly lead singer Ben Vol-Au-Vent Poltroon - were droolsomely gorgeous looking in a clean-cut smoothie kind of way, which always helps.

You can therefore imagine my disappointment when "Down To Earth" was revealed as yet another drippy, ploppy, piddling little piece of clueless yuppie-pop nonsense, which communicates nothing but its own everything-just-SO self-satisfaction. "You're shattered by the final frame of the movie scene that generates your every aim." Whatever you say, Mister Vol-Au-Vent Poltroon.

And so to cheeky chappy Britpop revivalists the Kaiser Chiefs, serving up the sort of cheery knees-up that you could easily imagine as the opening performance on TFI Friday in 1997. "Ruby" isn't really about anything much, other than a vague sense of emotional nothingness at the end of a seemingly insignificant relationship. It's a kind of extended shrug; a "so that was that then, now I'm off out with the lads". And that's only if you listen closely - when actually, the track is nothing more or less than another sloshing-about-at-the-indie-disco party tune, to stick on the same playlist as "Same Jeans". For some of you, that's not nearly enough. For me, it'll do nicely for now.

My votes: Julie Covington - 5 points. Kaiser Chiefs - 4 points. No Mercy - 3 points. Curiosity Killed The Cat - 2 points. Engelbert Humperdinck - 1 point.

Over to you. With three first places and one second place over the last four rounds, the 1960s are surging ahead - but will The Hump stop them in their tracks? The 2000s are still looking useful, and I'm expecting the Kaiser Chiefs to keep them well in the game. Having sagged badly in the middle rounds, the 1990s are staging a major comeback - but could La Covington lead a rear-guard action for the established order? And at this late stage, can anything to be done to save the 1980s? Mister Vol-Au-Vent Poltroon and your sorry Stu-Stu-Studio-Lined lackeys, you're letting not just yourselves but your whole decade down.

Running totals so far - Number 2s.

1977: Don't Cry For Me Argentina - Julie Covington (122)

I haven't heard Julie's version for years, but it is still the version all others are measured against. My recall of its superiority seems to be justified. And I'd like to think it's thanks to Rice and Covington too and not the sqitty Webber bloke. (NiC)

I'd like to share a thought about the lyrics to DCFMA. Well, more a story wot I heard on the radio once. See, I never thought those lyrics made much sense, and although that may be OK for Noel Gallagher it's not something Tim Rice ever did. Well, you can't much in a musical can you? The song was originally called "It's Only Your Lover Returning" a lyric which stood in place of the first line of the chorus each time until the end. Which makes sense of the second line "the truth is, I never left you". ALW liked the Argentina line better, and one blazing row later they all went back to the studio the next day and inserted the other line, every time. Partly a lyrical choice but also because the musicality of the line is different. "Don't" fell on beat one but "It's only" fell before the bar line - hence weaker to ALW's ears. And let's face it his ears are his strong point. Try it. (robin)

This has been part of my life almost as long as Tina Charles' 'I Love To love' - I think Elaine Page first introduced it to me, or was it the Argentine Fans at the world cup final when I was a kid? Anyway, I've sung this in the shower more times than any other record I think (i'm sure it pip's Abba's 'Waterloo' and Robbie's 'Angels' to the top of the shower chart!) Oh, the number of times i've been on that balcony in Buenos Aires - with Head and Shoulders in my hair... (Simon & The City)

I think I'm voting for some of these songs on the strength of a memory-jogging emotional response. I'm taken straight back to a cosy 70s childhood, tea in the kitchen with radio 2 on in the background. (Sarah)

"Don't Cry For me, Argentina" isn't my favourite slice of Lloyd Webber it must be said, but who after reading this essay by Tom Ewing wouldn't give it maximum points? (jeff w)

A timeless classic; ALW's best moment. I enjoyed Madonna in the movie, but Julie Covington's is still the definitive account of this song. (Hedgie)

Somehow she makes it 'her song', and not even Madonna can wrest that away from her. (diamond geezer)

Better than Madge's (but what isn't), though not as good as Donna or Sinéad, but probably the definitive straight reading of what is perhaps shclokmeister Andrew Lloyd Weber’s best tune and at least she isn’t Elaine bloody Paige. Btw - check this "obituary" of Andrew Lloyd Webber, not very kind! (loomer)

This voice is too pure and clear to ever sell the line ' Couldn't stay all my life down at heel'. Give me Patti Lupone any day--Elaine Paige in a pinch. This was the last ALW production I have had any time for. Once he and Tim Rice parted ways it was all shlock. (asta)

I loved the 'Rock Follies' tv show. Asta's right about this one. Julie's all wrong for the Evita role. (Amanda)

I agree it's not as good as Sinead's version. But she was one of the Rock Follies and thus one third of a great deal of my teenage masturbatory fantasyland. (Alan)

Sure, good voice, but some of those vowel sounds really grate and I agree that the voice doesn't fit the song. Vastly overhyped at the time and I still don't like it. (z)

I really dislike her voice; that swinging between little girl breathiness (but no Marilyn) and that harsh grating metallic sound. A memorable tune, especially a stupid Goodies sketch - 'Don't Cry for Me Marge and Tina'. I do so like the David Essex 'Oh What a Circus'. Possibly because I fancied David Essex? (Gert)

Her singing makes me shudder in a really bad way. Good song by all means, but not like this. (Simon C)

2007: Ruby - Kaiser Chiefs (102)

Now I'm not a huge fan of the current music scene, but this song is alone in this selection with passion. Well, IMO anyway. (Lionel d'Lion)

I really liked their first album, it was quirky and unpredictable. This is just bland. From "I Predict a Riot" to rubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyruby, there's no comparison really, is there? (Alan)

They are something I only ever read about in free papers, much like Paris Hilton and Kate Moss. F-k knows what they're about. Still sounds like pop though. (Simon C)

It's by numbers Kaiser Chiefs, and they were never really that good were they? (SwissToni)

Not the Kaiser's best, IMHO, and tarnished with by my knowledge of Chris Moyles' Donny, Donny, Donny, Donny... parody. (Adrian)

Considering the large number of pre-existing tracks with raucous guitar accompanying an over-produced thin reedy unexpressive voice, I'm not really sure what this adds to human existence. (Gert)

Is there any band around just now more loathsome than the so-called Kaisers? I don’t hate this half as much as their previous ubiquitous fare like “I Predict A Riot”, but give it time. (loomer)

The modern day Tremeloes? (betty)

Sounds like a football chant (but only suitable for a lower league Spanish fishing village) (diamond geezer)

No No and No. Deeply turgid, despite the best efforts of the chorus to pep things up. This sort of thing needs to be much more chipper, tight, and en pointe to work. (Hedgie)

1987: Down To Earth - Curiosity Killed The Cat (85)

Wow, 1987 was the last great year in the 80s for glitzy pop wasn’t it? Before acid house and SAW came to spoil the party. This is much like their other hit “Misfit”. The singer guy with the double-barrelled French surname was on a Pop Years programme most recently and is still quite hot. (loomer)

Hey, I liked Ben Vol-au-vent Poltroon. I went through a phase of going out wearing a blazer, stripy T-shirt and a beret. (David)

Brings back great memories of the 80s, probably because I haven't heard it since then. It's aged well. (Adrian)

Boasts that same quirky soulful wanderingness that good jazz melodies have. (diamond geezer)

Vaguely finger-clicky, but basically soulless. (Clare)

It sounds like the music they played in restaurants with pink and light green colour schemes and white wicker furniture. (asta)

I'm going away to look up the lyrics in a minute. A high point for incomprehensible, pretentious '80's nonsense? (betty)

I too vaguely remember this band being sold as "cool" to the gullible public. How hilarious. Compare this to Pepsi and Shirley's effort - underneath quite respectable vocal performances both songs have identikit production values. Vile vile vile. Conclusive proof the 80s were the "style" decade. (Hedgie)

I was never into the Curiositys back then. I thought they were a low-rent Wet Wet Wet. This hasn't changed my view. (Gert)

You have made me realise how DONE i am with 80's music. (jo)

1967: Release Me - Engelbert Humperdinck (78)

I'm old enough to remember this but young enough that the controversy passed over my head. Well, the Beatles will have to take their chances like any other pop band. I'm with the wrinklies on this one. I like his voice and the solid if rather stolid melody. (Hedgie)

I'm firmly on The Hump's side re this alleged Outrage you refer to. Those baby boomers, eh? Cry baby boomers more like. (jeff w)

I'm not sure how to score this. It's terrible but in a memorable, strong kind of way. (Amanda)

I like this when I'm drunk; or rather I like singing this when I'm drunk. I know it's a classic, I know it's well put together as a song etc etc but it just doesn't float my boat. (Gert)

Oh boy! Me and my mate always used to sing this at the top of our voices in the car on the way home from the pub on a sunday night (in the 1990's not the 1960's I might add...!). I was always drunk, he was always just up for a good time (and still is...) (Simon & The City)

Awful at the time and I didn't understand why fawning women thought it was a love song when it was full of spite. And blimey, isn't it slow. (z)

I like the mention of Proustian olfactory side effects. This reminds me of the smell of Cherry B and Park Drive cigarettes, because it was played over the PA in a club my parents used to take me to (they let kids in, for reasons I've never understood). It used to rival Tom Jones' Delilah for getting all the drunken blokes singing along in the pub style. (betty)

Just awful. MOR dreck for wrinklies. Most infamous chart injustice of all time. I remember it more for being The Fast Show theme. (loomer)

Doilies, lemon spray furniture polish and silk flower arrangements. Shoot me now. (asta)

I've never understood the chart longevity of this tedious syrupfest. (diamond geezer)

*must-fight-urge-to-make-poor-please-release-me-from-listening-jokes*... (Adrian)

1997: Where Do You Go - No Mercy (63)

I'm flabbergasted I'm giving this 4 points. Utterly forgotten, but still fresh on rehearing. I love the soulful latino vocals and twinkly Spanish guitar on top of that dance-friendly beat. Fun and unpretentious - yet beneath the gossamer-light fluff this has precise German engineering. (Hedgie)

This track reminds me of fabulous nights in Euro Discos - and the latino boys are lovely... (Simon & The City)

Very Club 18-30s. Cheerful but tiresome. (Clare)

The reference to Peter Sarstedt's "Where Do You Go To My Lovely" tantalises but the song fails to anything interesting with it. (Amanda)

I remember this being a carbon copy in every sense of Everything But The Girl’s “Missing”. (loomer)

Halfway through listening to this I started thinking that a version by the Wurzels would be really cracking. (betty)

mmmm... after watching the video of this cute Latino threesome, my head was pounding like rolling thunder too. However, since you said we're meant to be voting based on merit and not shaggability, bottom of the heap I'm afraid. (Oliver)

This will forever be a Saturday Night Live skit of the ever obnoxious Roxbury Brothers head dancing to their 'signature' song for me. (jo)

I'd probably enjoy this if I could get rid of the mental picture of Doug and Steve Butabi bouncing their heads in time to the beat. I know, different song, but not that different. (asta)

Sounds to me like the illegitimate child of Boney M and Black Lace. (Stereoboard)

Horribly formulaic. No merit. I was bored after 20 seconds, the thought of a full length song makes me shudder. (Gert)

Not even the cheerfulness and happy-party-vibe of it can disguise what an utter dog of a song it is. (Simon C)

Decade scores so far (after 8 days).
1 (1) The 1960s (32) -- Release me, and let me love again!
2= (4) The 1990s (23) -- Just like a river flowing to the sea, you're running back to me!
2= (2) The 2000s (23) -- Do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya! Ahaa-ahaa-aaaa!
4 (2) The 1970s (22) -- And as for fortune, and as for fame, I never invited them in!
5 (5) The 1980s (20) -- You're shattered by the vital pain, that is needed now to tell you not to go insane!

Labels: whichdecade07

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