"then i was jostled by police to hand my wallet over"
the strange, zappa-esque, mildly self indulgent hat album has been in my cd rack for some time and i'm not entirely sure how and why i came to own it. im pretty certain i wouldnt have bought (or even lifted) a cd by someone i've still never heard of in any other context, i dont think i know anyone who would have lent it to me for me to forget (deliberately or otherwise) to give it back, and its not something most people would give as a present. but however it came into my life, its an album i fairly regularly rediscover having forgotten it and there are some real gems on it.
i was reminded of this song, with its bizarre narrative of repeatedly being stopped by the police who gradually steal everything he owns, when i saw 3 policemen pushing a young black guy against a wall. despite his protests, he had the resigned look of someone to whom this happened a lot. its ages since ive been stopped by the police, but when i used to walk home alone late at night a lot it was fairly regular. i felt a strange, if fleeting, sense of solidarity for the guy, and then i started to think that maybe hed actually done something to warrant this treatment which made me worry about the moral implications of siding with a criminal.
before id had time to think about it much though, i had walked past the situation and away, got distracted trying to remember the lyrics to the earworm and forgotten everything else.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Monday, January 08, 2007
"band you love to hate" - j church
"backstage passes for the both of you, again, what does it mean to you, you think you're writing wrongs with your old typewriter, but you haven't got a clue"
i was going to write about the best gig i ever went to, but ive done that several times in several places and can wait for this blog until im short of ideas.
the only person i knew with an old typewriter was the guy we only knew as "the cool emo drummer". i cant remember the first time we met, but the second time was at an open mic night where he was drumming for 2 drunken middle-aged characters playing glam and blues covers. i cant really think of a generous way to say they didnt suck, but sitting in his own happy world at the back in an old comfortable jumper, hair flopping from side to side with every head-dance, the cool emo drummer effortlessly held the enthusiastic row into something resembling musical structure. he oozed cool in a gentle, self-effacing way and speaking to him that evening left me with the impression of the best sort of quiet man.
im ashamed to say i dont think i ever spoke to him again, though i did see him around several times. he used to sit on the steps in the sunshine writing poetry on a beat up old typewriter. i was never quite nosy enough to try to read the stanzas over his sholder as i passed, so i cant say whether he wrote anything of any artistic or literary merit. but from the little i knew of him, i wouldnt be at all suprised
i was going to write about the best gig i ever went to, but ive done that several times in several places and can wait for this blog until im short of ideas.
the only person i knew with an old typewriter was the guy we only knew as "the cool emo drummer". i cant remember the first time we met, but the second time was at an open mic night where he was drumming for 2 drunken middle-aged characters playing glam and blues covers. i cant really think of a generous way to say they didnt suck, but sitting in his own happy world at the back in an old comfortable jumper, hair flopping from side to side with every head-dance, the cool emo drummer effortlessly held the enthusiastic row into something resembling musical structure. he oozed cool in a gentle, self-effacing way and speaking to him that evening left me with the impression of the best sort of quiet man.
im ashamed to say i dont think i ever spoke to him again, though i did see him around several times. he used to sit on the steps in the sunshine writing poetry on a beat up old typewriter. i was never quite nosy enough to try to read the stanzas over his sholder as i passed, so i cant say whether he wrote anything of any artistic or literary merit. but from the little i knew of him, i wouldnt be at all suprised
"somebody kill me" - adam sandler
"somebody kill me please. somebody kill me please"
i must have watched the wedding singer on video a lot. i was one of those films my ex-girlf would put on in her room to distract us from the fact that our relationship had long-since slipped from "romantic and physical" territory into "convenient, needy and habitual" - though i for one didnt really realise it at the time. there were several videos that fell into that category - but with hindsight tws was a notable example because it reminded us of early in our relationship when we had gone to see it. its a likable nothing of a movie with two real strong features. the first is the couple of scenes in which drew barrymore looks really cute, and the second is the soundtrack. sure if you feel like being a pedant it doesnt entirely conjure 1985 - but it consistently falls on the cool side of cheesy.
the reason the song is circling my mind with accelerating angular velocity is that ive just come to a shuddering realisation of just how bored i am at my job. dont expect me to do anything about it, mind.
i must have watched the wedding singer on video a lot. i was one of those films my ex-girlf would put on in her room to distract us from the fact that our relationship had long-since slipped from "romantic and physical" territory into "convenient, needy and habitual" - though i for one didnt really realise it at the time. there were several videos that fell into that category - but with hindsight tws was a notable example because it reminded us of early in our relationship when we had gone to see it. its a likable nothing of a movie with two real strong features. the first is the couple of scenes in which drew barrymore looks really cute, and the second is the soundtrack. sure if you feel like being a pedant it doesnt entirely conjure 1985 - but it consistently falls on the cool side of cheesy.
the reason the song is circling my mind with accelerating angular velocity is that ive just come to a shuddering realisation of just how bored i am at my job. dont expect me to do anything about it, mind.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
"body parts" - licking chocolate jesus
"i know a secret about you, touching yourself in the bathroom, watching yourself in the mirror, wishing that you could be near her"
i suffer from a strange sort of licking chocolate jesus tourettes. it affects me a lot less now than it did when i watched them gig a lot (trying hard not to be that fan who mouths the words along) but still from time to time i catch myself singing snatches of their lyrics aloud in far from appropriate situations. more than once this has led to scaring or getting disgusted looks from (or both) old ladies. most people thought that jungle was their best song, and i always had a soft spot for prosthetic limb, but every time i heard neil scream "you're a paranoid lover" it made me shudder.
lcj remain the best unsigned band i have ever seen live - and the gigs we played together were far too few since they always made m4G raise our game to try to compete.
i suffer from a strange sort of licking chocolate jesus tourettes. it affects me a lot less now than it did when i watched them gig a lot (trying hard not to be that fan who mouths the words along) but still from time to time i catch myself singing snatches of their lyrics aloud in far from appropriate situations. more than once this has led to scaring or getting disgusted looks from (or both) old ladies. most people thought that jungle was their best song, and i always had a soft spot for prosthetic limb, but every time i heard neil scream "you're a paranoid lover" it made me shudder.
lcj remain the best unsigned band i have ever seen live - and the gigs we played together were far too few since they always made m4G raise our game to try to compete.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
"shape of my heart" - the sugababes
"i know that the spades are the swords of a soldier, i know that the clubs are weapons of war"
this is my favourite sting song. i know to some extent thats a bit like having a favourite flavour of corrugated cardboard - it kinda tastes the same and its all very dull - but when pushed this was always my answer. it was a much cooler answer to give in the late 90s when this was semi-obscure and a lot of people hadn't heard of it, but the fact that thats no longer the case shouldnt be a good enough reason to stop it being my favourite - even though that cooler-than-thou-wannabe inside me still tries to insist it is. i remember this song being the background music to magic tricks on some inconsequencial kids tv show paul zenon appeared on - and it that context it had an air of mystery. this was before i had really heard of sting and started to disregard him out of hand for all the rubbish he comes wrapped up these days. atom and his package sang that sting cannot possibly be the same guy from the police, though i reckon he seemed to have a smug self-importance even before the whole rainforest thing.
sting, like a wasp, is a perennial annoyance - but he did write have a hand in writing both this song and "walking on the moon" for which you have to give him a little leaway.
this is my favourite sting song. i know to some extent thats a bit like having a favourite flavour of corrugated cardboard - it kinda tastes the same and its all very dull - but when pushed this was always my answer. it was a much cooler answer to give in the late 90s when this was semi-obscure and a lot of people hadn't heard of it, but the fact that thats no longer the case shouldnt be a good enough reason to stop it being my favourite - even though that cooler-than-thou-wannabe inside me still tries to insist it is. i remember this song being the background music to magic tricks on some inconsequencial kids tv show paul zenon appeared on - and it that context it had an air of mystery. this was before i had really heard of sting and started to disregard him out of hand for all the rubbish he comes wrapped up these days. atom and his package sang that sting cannot possibly be the same guy from the police, though i reckon he seemed to have a smug self-importance even before the whole rainforest thing.
sting, like a wasp, is a perennial annoyance - but he did write have a hand in writing both this song and "walking on the moon" for which you have to give him a little leaway.
Friday, January 05, 2007
"beautiful girl" - the gadjits
"she's using those number systems from reading blaise pascal. she's making babies for now"
i enjoy that show where noel edmonds asks you whether or not you would like to deal.
i am sure that the decision making process should be based on maths, but have always been frustrated by the fact that - since the deal offered is always less than the expected value of the game - simple probability theory states that you should always decline the deal. i have seen the show enough times to realise that there is almost always a point where the player should have dealt.
i am trying to formulate a strategy based on my new theory that - since the offer is a function of the expected value - the probability of getting a higher offer after the next round is the probability of the expected value being greater.
but the formula is getting more and more complicated and wasting more and more of my time - and i doubt if noel would be impressed were i to ask him to wait for a few minutes while i did some calculations before giving him my response as to whether or not i would like to deal.
sometimes i think that maybe theres an argument for thinking less. certainly the vacuous and thoughtless always seem to be ok, under their own limited definitions
i enjoy that show where noel edmonds asks you whether or not you would like to deal.
i am sure that the decision making process should be based on maths, but have always been frustrated by the fact that - since the deal offered is always less than the expected value of the game - simple probability theory states that you should always decline the deal. i have seen the show enough times to realise that there is almost always a point where the player should have dealt.
i am trying to formulate a strategy based on my new theory that - since the offer is a function of the expected value - the probability of getting a higher offer after the next round is the probability of the expected value being greater.
but the formula is getting more and more complicated and wasting more and more of my time - and i doubt if noel would be impressed were i to ask him to wait for a few minutes while i did some calculations before giving him my response as to whether or not i would like to deal.
sometimes i think that maybe theres an argument for thinking less. certainly the vacuous and thoughtless always seem to be ok, under their own limited definitions
"brain stew" - green day
"my eyes feel like they're gonna bleed"
the first 4 green day albums are some of my favourite records ever. even insomniac which seemed to mostly pass everyone by at the time. i remember how much i was looking forward to the release of nimrod - and even more clearly the numbing sense of disappointment when i heard it. how could a band i loved make something so mediocre?
remember kids - everyone lets you down sooner or later.
i really did wake up this morning with a strange kind of headache - the entire bottom half of my head (a bit like terry nutkins' haircut) - and throbbing eyes. the riff for this song was pounding round and round - occasionally getting to this snatch of lyric then sort of tailing off and starting the riff again.
the first 4 green day albums are some of my favourite records ever. even insomniac which seemed to mostly pass everyone by at the time. i remember how much i was looking forward to the release of nimrod - and even more clearly the numbing sense of disappointment when i heard it. how could a band i loved make something so mediocre?
remember kids - everyone lets you down sooner or later.
i really did wake up this morning with a strange kind of headache - the entire bottom half of my head (a bit like terry nutkins' haircut) - and throbbing eyes. the riff for this song was pounding round and round - occasionally getting to this snatch of lyric then sort of tailing off and starting the riff again.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
"no such thing" - John Mayer
"They love to tell you: stay inside the lines, but something's better on the other side"
I woke up with these two lines from the song in my head. Only these two - not the rest of the song, in which the melody is very different - so I wasn't sure which song it was. They're the kind of lines too, that you can sort of play backwards in your head, and they become all muddy and weird, or sometimes they sound like a broken record.A
So I must have hit the "snooze" button at least a dozen times, because I was supposed to get up at 9 and I only emerged from my dreams at 10.20am. Oh well.
I dreamt that my brother was in prison (originally it was my BF who was in prison for using the word "crack" in an email that he sent from work) and my mum and myself visited him. The prison was at the top of a sandy hill, in the middle of town yet in the middle of the ocean. We were wearing swimming suits and kept climbing up these hills to get to the top, but kept sliding off them (they then became wet), they were like huge tobogans! Once at the top we could buy some wooden dolphin-shaped hairclips made by the inmates themselves.
Did I mention it was my 6 year-old brother who was in prison?
I woke up with these two lines from the song in my head. Only these two - not the rest of the song, in which the melody is very different - so I wasn't sure which song it was. They're the kind of lines too, that you can sort of play backwards in your head, and they become all muddy and weird, or sometimes they sound like a broken record.A
So I must have hit the "snooze" button at least a dozen times, because I was supposed to get up at 9 and I only emerged from my dreams at 10.20am. Oh well.
I dreamt that my brother was in prison (originally it was my BF who was in prison for using the word "crack" in an email that he sent from work) and my mum and myself visited him. The prison was at the top of a sandy hill, in the middle of town yet in the middle of the ocean. We were wearing swimming suits and kept climbing up these hills to get to the top, but kept sliding off them (they then became wet), they were like huge tobogans! Once at the top we could buy some wooden dolphin-shaped hairclips made by the inmates themselves.
Did I mention it was my 6 year-old brother who was in prison?
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
"why can't you behave" - from the musical kiss me kate
"after all the things you told me and the promises you gave, oh why can't you behave"
i don't care how much credibility this loses me - i love kiss me kate. there is no doubt cole porter was a giant of songwriting. i love the campy 50s movie version with its ridiculous brightly coloured costumes. i have fond memories of pit-banding a school performance. i'm pretty certain its my favourite musical (though hedwig is great, and theres probably some others that come close).
in the context of the show this song is pleading and desperate - even in that painfully old-fashioned way that ann miller sings it. in the context of an earworm it appeared while i was desperately trying to make my baby daughter stop crying, which is stupid in a lot of ways. firstly because pretty much all the song's lyrics except the title were irrelevant or inappropriate to the situation. but mostly, i think, because she is far too small to know that she is misbehaving - she was just trying to express whatever was making her upset in the only way she knew how. sometimes i really feel like screaming about my hassles too. usually i just write about them
i don't care how much credibility this loses me - i love kiss me kate. there is no doubt cole porter was a giant of songwriting. i love the campy 50s movie version with its ridiculous brightly coloured costumes. i have fond memories of pit-banding a school performance. i'm pretty certain its my favourite musical (though hedwig is great, and theres probably some others that come close).
in the context of the show this song is pleading and desperate - even in that painfully old-fashioned way that ann miller sings it. in the context of an earworm it appeared while i was desperately trying to make my baby daughter stop crying, which is stupid in a lot of ways. firstly because pretty much all the song's lyrics except the title were irrelevant or inappropriate to the situation. but mostly, i think, because she is far too small to know that she is misbehaving - she was just trying to express whatever was making her upset in the only way she knew how. sometimes i really feel like screaming about my hassles too. usually i just write about them
"closer than close" - rosie gaines
"lets get close, closer than close, closer than you could ever imagine us"
i hate this song.
i hate that it was stuck in my head, just the hookline round and round and round.
i hate even more that i had to try to find out what it was in order to blog it
i do not wish to dignify it by spending any more time on it
i hate this song.
i hate that it was stuck in my head, just the hookline round and round and round.
i hate even more that i had to try to find out what it was in order to blog it
i do not wish to dignify it by spending any more time on it
"do you remember the first time?" - pulp
"but you know that we've changed so much since then, oh yeah we've grown"
when i was in junior school i had a thing for a girl named carly halpin [if you've just googled yourself, hi, its been a long time]. at the time i was far too young to know what love was, and probably too young to even know what fancying someone was in any significant way, but my memory of her is that she was really cool and quite pretty [is that the start of a life pattern?]. looking back more recently at an old class photo she seems, to my cynical adult eyes, a fairly unremarkable 11-year-old girl but at the time i was kinda smitten. not in that mawkish-ignorant-impression-of-a-romantic way that would, in my later high-school life, cause me to make a twat of myself repeatedly, but in a vaguer, perhaps truer, way of thinking she was great and wanting to be a better, closer friend with her.
did the following happen in real life or did i dream it? it seems simultaneously so ridiculous and so plausible. perhaps some of it is truth and the rest embellishments. perhaps theres no such thing as truth anyway.
in my memory it was the summer after i left junior school on yet another saturday evening i was sat in with my family - trying really hard to enjoy watching noel's house party (which was pretty new at the time) or something similar - when the phone rang. at this time it was a sound that barely touched my consciousness since it never heralded anyone wanting to speak to me - except that this time my mum shouted that it was for me. still mostly stunned at the fairly alien concept i pressed the receiver to my face - and was promptly nearly deafened by background party noise. amidst the kerfuffle a voice i couldnt be sure i recognised said something like "is it true you fancy carly? do you want to go out with her?" my emotional immaturity - amplified by shock, confusion, disbelief, fear that it was some sort of trick and fear of looking stupid - could think of no appropriate response except to mumble something incoherent, gently put the phone down (in my memory this happens in slow motion - like a really bad horror movie cliche) and walk back to the lounge to continue numbing my brain with tv pretending the whole incident hadnt happened.
the more i try to remember it, the more certain i'm becoming that it really did happen.
i'm pretty certain she has changed as much since then as i have, though i have no idea whether she went on to be something great or just another girl with a croydon facelift, and i have no idea if it was a cruel trick or some genuine offering of an opportunity, and i have no idea if she will ever read this. but
carly, for the record, i'm sorry.
when i was in junior school i had a thing for a girl named carly halpin [if you've just googled yourself, hi, its been a long time]. at the time i was far too young to know what love was, and probably too young to even know what fancying someone was in any significant way, but my memory of her is that she was really cool and quite pretty [is that the start of a life pattern?]. looking back more recently at an old class photo she seems, to my cynical adult eyes, a fairly unremarkable 11-year-old girl but at the time i was kinda smitten. not in that mawkish-ignorant-impression-of-a-romantic way that would, in my later high-school life, cause me to make a twat of myself repeatedly, but in a vaguer, perhaps truer, way of thinking she was great and wanting to be a better, closer friend with her.
did the following happen in real life or did i dream it? it seems simultaneously so ridiculous and so plausible. perhaps some of it is truth and the rest embellishments. perhaps theres no such thing as truth anyway.
in my memory it was the summer after i left junior school on yet another saturday evening i was sat in with my family - trying really hard to enjoy watching noel's house party (which was pretty new at the time) or something similar - when the phone rang. at this time it was a sound that barely touched my consciousness since it never heralded anyone wanting to speak to me - except that this time my mum shouted that it was for me. still mostly stunned at the fairly alien concept i pressed the receiver to my face - and was promptly nearly deafened by background party noise. amidst the kerfuffle a voice i couldnt be sure i recognised said something like "is it true you fancy carly? do you want to go out with her?" my emotional immaturity - amplified by shock, confusion, disbelief, fear that it was some sort of trick and fear of looking stupid - could think of no appropriate response except to mumble something incoherent, gently put the phone down (in my memory this happens in slow motion - like a really bad horror movie cliche) and walk back to the lounge to continue numbing my brain with tv pretending the whole incident hadnt happened.
the more i try to remember it, the more certain i'm becoming that it really did happen.
i'm pretty certain she has changed as much since then as i have, though i have no idea whether she went on to be something great or just another girl with a croydon facelift, and i have no idea if it was a cruel trick or some genuine offering of an opportunity, and i have no idea if she will ever read this. but
carly, for the record, i'm sorry.
"Maybe tomorrow" - Stereophonics
"Maybe tomorrow... I will find my way home"
So I was going to talk about how last week, on the long journey from Shrewsbury to Ipswich (or was it from Soham to Bristol?), Noel Gallagher was on radio one and my boyfriend and I had a discussion about who was who in Oasis. We couldn't remember, you see. "I'm sure Liam is the leadsinger, cause this one (on the radio) doesn't have much of a nasal sound to his singing". The discussion went on for, oh, at least 20 minutes, before the boyfriend admitted he knew NOTHING and I won. Little pleasure in winning that one, as who cares about Oasis nowadays? Probably quite a number of people still, but I'm not included in the lot. Oasis is so last century.
Anyway, I was going to talk about Oasis, then when I looked up the lyrics for "maybe tomorrow" I realised that the song was actually by Stereophonics. The voice singing in my head changed slightly.
I used to like Stereophonics a lot.
So I was going to talk about how last week, on the long journey from Shrewsbury to Ipswich (or was it from Soham to Bristol?), Noel Gallagher was on radio one and my boyfriend and I had a discussion about who was who in Oasis. We couldn't remember, you see. "I'm sure Liam is the leadsinger, cause this one (on the radio) doesn't have much of a nasal sound to his singing". The discussion went on for, oh, at least 20 minutes, before the boyfriend admitted he knew NOTHING and I won. Little pleasure in winning that one, as who cares about Oasis nowadays? Probably quite a number of people still, but I'm not included in the lot. Oasis is so last century.
Anyway, I was going to talk about Oasis, then when I looked up the lyrics for "maybe tomorrow" I realised that the song was actually by Stereophonics. The voice singing in my head changed slightly.
I used to like Stereophonics a lot.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
"goodbye yellow brick road" - elton john
"when are you gonna come down? when are you going to land?"
i love south london. theres a part of me that worries that that might be a shameful thing to admit, but to me there has never been a question mark over it as a place to live. i carry its accent on my voice and its fingerprint in my brain. if only there were more tube stations it would be perfect. no, actually thats rubbish - its actually a bit crap, though i am convinced that pretty much everywhere else is at least as crap. its a homely sort of crap. you forgive its many flaws because it seems to hold you comfortingly and apologetically in its figurative embrace. i'm not trying to come over all "under the bridge" but lets face it, its better than la.
but despite this affinity, when it came to moving back to the smoke after those years of living away from it there was more than a flutter of trepidation. maybe this was because moving away had symbolised a break for freedom - freedom from parental control, freedom from becoming a local stereotype, freedom from all the haunting memories of the negativity of high school experience. like the baby pterodactyl in those mawkish "land before time" movies or the sheep in the monty python sketch, maybe i hadn't been flying so much as falling, plummeting with my eyes shut to convince myself that the wind rushing past my ears was the result of glorious forward momentum, destined to crash land back where i started while the face of gravity mocks me for failing to avoid my destiny of failure.
or maybe theres a sort of success in finally being able to admit:
i love south london
i love south london. theres a part of me that worries that that might be a shameful thing to admit, but to me there has never been a question mark over it as a place to live. i carry its accent on my voice and its fingerprint in my brain. if only there were more tube stations it would be perfect. no, actually thats rubbish - its actually a bit crap, though i am convinced that pretty much everywhere else is at least as crap. its a homely sort of crap. you forgive its many flaws because it seems to hold you comfortingly and apologetically in its figurative embrace. i'm not trying to come over all "under the bridge" but lets face it, its better than la.
but despite this affinity, when it came to moving back to the smoke after those years of living away from it there was more than a flutter of trepidation. maybe this was because moving away had symbolised a break for freedom - freedom from parental control, freedom from becoming a local stereotype, freedom from all the haunting memories of the negativity of high school experience. like the baby pterodactyl in those mawkish "land before time" movies or the sheep in the monty python sketch, maybe i hadn't been flying so much as falling, plummeting with my eyes shut to convince myself that the wind rushing past my ears was the result of glorious forward momentum, destined to crash land back where i started while the face of gravity mocks me for failing to avoid my destiny of failure.
or maybe theres a sort of success in finally being able to admit:
i love south london
"everything's just wonderful" - lily allen
"ba ba ba ba ba ba. ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba"
sometimes a song runs out of words and you have to say what you want with a solo. sometimes you need to keep singing but dont have the words to continue the thought - but if you go "ba ba ba" in the right way it still means something. sometimes you just sing noises cos its fun. sometimes you get a song stuck in your head but cant remember the lyrics - which is ok if the bit stuck there doesnt have any.
i think it's voltaire's "candide" that deals with the philosophy that we live in the best of all possible worlds (i'm not sure though, i gave up well before the end - if books were only 1 page long i would be incredibly well read). it seems to me to be obviously rubbish, but from time to time all of us, like lily allen, need to belive some positive rubbish to get us through
incidently - why no third l?
sometimes a song runs out of words and you have to say what you want with a solo. sometimes you need to keep singing but dont have the words to continue the thought - but if you go "ba ba ba" in the right way it still means something. sometimes you just sing noises cos its fun. sometimes you get a song stuck in your head but cant remember the lyrics - which is ok if the bit stuck there doesnt have any.
i think it's voltaire's "candide" that deals with the philosophy that we live in the best of all possible worlds (i'm not sure though, i gave up well before the end - if books were only 1 page long i would be incredibly well read). it seems to me to be obviously rubbish, but from time to time all of us, like lily allen, need to belive some positive rubbish to get us through
incidently - why no third l?
"magic johnson" - the red hot chili peppers
"[dum-dum-da-da-dum] MAGIC JOHNSON"
before they were a yawnfest band serving ignorant preteens the same one ballad and one funkpop bounce over and over, before either of the albums that could justifiably claim to be their best - but slightly after that whole socks-on-penises thing - this song was a minor album track that most people forgot about as soon as "nobody weird like me" kicked in. but theres something about the chorus riff that is ear glue.
as a palace fan, i was always slightly disappointed that this never became a chant for andy johnson whilst he plied his trade with us. i guess too few of the holmesdale end faithful were aware of late 80s alternative rock. the poor ignorant fools.
before they were a yawnfest band serving ignorant preteens the same one ballad and one funkpop bounce over and over, before either of the albums that could justifiably claim to be their best - but slightly after that whole socks-on-penises thing - this song was a minor album track that most people forgot about as soon as "nobody weird like me" kicked in. but theres something about the chorus riff that is ear glue.
as a palace fan, i was always slightly disappointed that this never became a chant for andy johnson whilst he plied his trade with us. i guess too few of the holmesdale end faithful were aware of late 80s alternative rock. the poor ignorant fools.
"teenage rampage" - the sweet
"come join the revolution, get yourself a constitution...."
the power of historical hindsight renders this one of the least effectual rabble-rousing songs i've ever heard. maybe im well past teenagerampaging now, but even when i was a teenager i liked the idea of a teenage rampage far more than i liked this song - but like many sweet songs the chorus is a catchy beast.
it amazes me that my yearning for things to be different - my sympathy for revolution - only manifests itself in the most ineffectual of ways. in that sense i guess i'm a long way short of a teenage rampage. my revolution is barely prepubescent and my rampage fairly embryonic. i care but im too lazy to do anything about it. its the modern social disease.
the power of historical hindsight renders this one of the least effectual rabble-rousing songs i've ever heard. maybe im well past teenagerampaging now, but even when i was a teenager i liked the idea of a teenage rampage far more than i liked this song - but like many sweet songs the chorus is a catchy beast.
it amazes me that my yearning for things to be different - my sympathy for revolution - only manifests itself in the most ineffectual of ways. in that sense i guess i'm a long way short of a teenage rampage. my revolution is barely prepubescent and my rampage fairly embryonic. i care but im too lazy to do anything about it. its the modern social disease.
Monday, January 01, 2007
"a girl like you" - edwin collins
"this old town's changed so much, don't feel like i belong, too many protest singers, not enough protest songs"
when this was one of those pleasant-enough-but-radio-saturated indie songs that characterised the mid 90s i could take or leave it, but when i heard him play it acoustically for an xfm session, where he dumm-ed the guitar riffs, it was strangely haunting - especially this third verse.
and its still true now - maybe it always was
when this was one of those pleasant-enough-but-radio-saturated indie songs that characterised the mid 90s i could take or leave it, but when i heard him play it acoustically for an xfm session, where he dumm-ed the guitar riffs, it was strangely haunting - especially this third verse.
and its still true now - maybe it always was
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