Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Vertiginous Peers,

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.


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