Tuesday, January 29, 2013
I could paint the walls but I'd have to buy paint, then I'd have to set a special day aside in my schedule for when I moved all the furniture into the centre of the room, and this time, I think I'd put masking tape on the skirting boards, but I'd rather not. Ideally, I'd make it just like Roy and Moss' office in the IT Crowd with posters to cover the marks and avoid the rollers, the brushes and the white spirit, but unfortunately, my education in Guided by Voices is lacking and I sometimes show a modicum of professionalism.
I'm going to spend some time listening to Guided by Voices. Today, I am considering the new song 'Copy Zero'. Lasting under two minutes, this wistful ditty ponders the everyday paper trails, I picture scenes that might happen in floors above Roy and Moss' basement computing sweatshop.
Asseverators of Retrofitted Heroes,
Everyday I mourn the loss of Clor. They existed for nearly
no time – they released one album and one EP and disbanded in 2006. That
self-titled album was quality from start to finish, it exemplified what indie
music should be. They used some guitar riffs, lots of synthetic beeps and some
snappy lyrics. My attachment to Clor is quite ridiculous, in the grand scale of
things, they will be forgotten. I heard Gary Numan’s We Are Glass the other day
and my ears perked up, sounds like Clor, I thought. I knew this was the wrong
way round, Gary Numan is a superstar of electronic music and Clor are nothing,
but if a band can sound as good as or better than the genre’s flag-bearer, then
they can be entitled to legendary status, at least with me.
The video to Love & Pain must be one of the best ever. I
will learn the dance.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Hypnotised Sightseers Budging Little,
When discussing the television comedy of today, it is fair
to say that the sitcom has changed hugely from decades ago and that the
situations are no longer physical but social. There are very few comedies where
the setting may be identified by location; most of today’s comedies are simply
defined by their characters that are of a group of people: Peep Show, Friends,
How I Met Your Mother, Spaced, My Family, Mrs Brown’s Boys, Not Going Out etc.
I don’t necessarily care for all or any of these but none of these are
dominated by their setting.
I think my own taste in comedy favours those shows with a
well-defined location or situation, typically, these are shows from the past. When
the setting is more prominent, the comedy is stronger as the characters do not
only interact with each other, they also react against their situation or
plight.
Father Ted would be nothing if they weren’t three priests
isolated on an island. Like the pub of Early Doors, its incongruent characters
would never meet. The Office is dominated by strong characters but the
competition that exists within the workplace is at the root of most of its
laughs. The Royle Family is really just a group of people but the crowded room
and the fact that its characters never leave the glare of the television is its
essence, this is similar to The Smoking Room (a comedy series that was sadly
curtailed by changes to the law), where the characters are placed on top of
each other in a single room (could it ever be revived at an outdoors smoking
shelter?).
Once the setting is in place, the characters take over. One
of my favourites is Dad’s Army, as it is set in the past, it can never go out
of date and so it proves week after week on BBC2. The characters have no modern
day equivalents; no comedy boasts a Mainwaring, a Fraser or a Jones. The comedy
of Jones is simple: rambling, irrelevant yarns, mistaken choice of words, his
catchphrases and bungled drill and exercises. There are no Joneses today, the
best similarities might be limited to sketch shows. The mistimed coming to
attention never fails to raise a laugh, the direction is quite stunning; the
timing of the late stomp always interrupts Mainwaring’s next announcement.
Beyond the main cast, The Verger is the unsung hero of the
show. As little more than the church caretaker, his gimmick is a misplaced
sense of importance. After uttering his gratuitous statements, he puffs out his
chest and pulls a face that suggests that he thinks the conversation is over
because he has spoken. One such example is in The Royal Train, the platoon are
trying to keep the king’s arrival secret, yet the vicar, the mayor, the warden
and the verger descend. The Vicar starts, ‘I represent the church, his worship,
the mayor represents the council. The warden says, ‘I represent the ARP’,
leaving the verger to boldly state with pride and to pull his face, ‘And I’m a
sightseer.’
Who are the vergers of today? The bit-part players, who
appear in every episode, but would be missed considerably if they didn’t exist.
The Janitor or Ted from Scrubs might be considered prime examples: of course,
these two are from a sitcom dominated by its physical setting, the hospital. In
conclusion, the best comedies, to me, are in well-defined settings, removed
from my reality. The alternative is that the comedy is close to reality,
involving a bunch of people - I can join a bunch of people and I am the
funniest person I know, so why would I need to watch any other show?
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Creators of Their Own Taxonomic Class,
One of my major mistakes of 2012 was not following music so
closely. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I dedicated some hours to KEXP, a
station that I listened to for hours on end during my time as a stewdent -
those hours were quite magnificent. When music is of a certain standard, hearing
a piece for the first time and making my mind up is one of my favourite
pastimes, everything is brilliant on first listen.
I heard the Stereophonics new one the other day, I did not
enjoy this, it was horrific – a wall of grey – so, my rule doesn’t apply to
everything.
By the end of 2013, Teleman should be established, after an
album release and some festivals, even the non-investigative journalists should
have become aware of their brilliance. Teleman are led by Tom Saunders, the pop
genius from the defunct Pete and the Pirates. The first single, Cristina, is
instantly recognisable as belong to Saunders, it could easily be a Pete and the
Pirates song, although, in this instance, it is a little more mellow and
slower. I regret comparing this to Belle & Sebastian but the song has the
narrative, the character and the fragility that Stuart Murdoch’s voice often
carries.
My top 70 from 2012 is already unravelling; I don’t know
where I was when Randolph’s Leap were singing Hermit. They've become part of
the Fence Records gang; they’re not out of place there either.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Ostlers Without Worries,
Today was the day that Burger King saved my life. The
tastiness of their fast food averted potential despair yet I did not sample it,
I never have and likely never will. I do my best to eat healthily, I would not
say that I have a good diet; it is precariously balanced and I know what I have
to consume to keep feeling well and I know what will make me ill. One burger
would tip the balance and, thankfully, today that burger was eaten by someone
else.
It snowed intermittently today, accumulating to a couple of
inches deep. In clearing the road, someone had built an embankment of snow,
parallel to my car, that I had to drive over to leave the car park. As I
descended the ramp onto the main road, I applied the brakes but entered into a
skate. I began sliding slowly onto the road and panicked when I saw two cars
approaching. I panicked only for a brief second because I quickly resigned
myself to the fact that I was going to have a minor bump with one of these cars.
Then, I was saved as they both turned into Burger King. Pumping the brakes, I
managed to stop just past the line.
My brakes seemed in good working order a few moments later,
I think I had somehow picked up a block of compacted snow when I crossed the built
up snow around my parking space and it forced my brakes to lock. I speculate,
of course, as I know little about brakes. Tomorrow will be another day of
terror on the roads as motorists tackle the snow that has frozen over their
freeways.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Searchers in Your Own Time,
David Bowie’s new single is everywhere. This Sunday, it has
even gone slam-dunkin’ into the top ten of the UK singles chart. From breaking
news on Tuesday’s BBC Breakfast, Mary Anne Hobbs regurgitating an archive
interview on Saturday’s 6music breakfast to C4’s Sunday Brunch, it hasn’t
escaped me, nor the cereal-eating public. Also, on Sunday Brunch was Dr
Christian, the lad who helps the serial eating public, he didn’t start dancing,
nor should he have.
Where Are We Now? demands a few quiet moments of
contemplation and often when a song grips us like this, they instantly take on
iconic status as an anthem of wistfulness and poignancy. Really, it’s quite a
simple song, Bowie doesn’t really have to say anything too complex to have us
pondering the trials of life, ‘where are we now?’ is a timeless question. I
spend my life dwelling on it and longing for change, but Bowie leaves even me
with a sense of hope.
Thinking back, over 40 years ago, Bowie sung Five Years, for
me, the reflection in Bowie’s lyrics is of an equally high quality – therein
lies the size of achievement that Where Are We Now? represents.
Sunday, January 06, 2013
Hoary Ears and Quills Awakening,
As I researched a recent project, I was listening to a
compilation of the best of the year’s pop albums; I had already begun
constructing my list of favourite songs of 2012, so I used the radio countdown
to inflate my own. I’m quite proud of my list, which I intend to use as a point
of reference for future decisions on whether to buy an album or buy a ticket.
To create the list and the project’s output at the same
time, I was relatively pleased with myself, but I know that I really should
only have used up half the duration and arrived at the latter.