sexy's pop's back

Just when you thought it safe to switch on the radio. What is it with these reunion bands lately? Take 'Take That' back they came to a fanfare of noise and applause from the media. They were splashed all across the tabloids and interviewed by every radio DJ in the land. They scrabbled up a few rather large venues and sold tickets at 65 quid each. And everyone fell over themselves to buy them. Sell out. Success. But at no point the threat of the 'return' they didn't frighten us with more 'music' why? Because they have astute business managers who knew it would never work. Their hits album sold like hot cakes over Christmas and everyone remembered them in a haze of of reminiscent love. Even Robbie Williams was nice about it all... That probably helped a lot.
"So", thought all the other boy and girl bands everywhere. Those ones that had some minor success and folded. Why not us?
This week we see The All Saints back on the market. Reformed and putting all the bitchy nasty slagging each other off behind them (yeah right) and they 'love' each other. Back together. New single. Lots of interviews and lots of reassurances that they are now friends forever awwwww?
Come on, they HATED each other. The prima donnas that make up the Appletons (did you watch I'm a celebrity?) One of them married a Gallagher FFS. That must take some face.
Mel and Shaznay. Mel was always the 'nice' one but Shaz was a right cow.
But we are to forget all of that and look forward to a future with The All Saints.
Well personally I think the musical world was better when they were all hid in their respective million dollar homes and left us alone. The new single 'Rock Steady' is bland, insipid and leaves me cold.
It's sugar coated pop. There's so much good new music, exciting and fresh out there. Why rehash what was never good in the first place.
And this leads me suitably to the worst news to hit Tracks and Tracks this week.
In a North London Shopping centre a monster raised its ugly head once again today.
Yes.... The boyband with "The Power To Rock You". 5ive have announced their come back.
Be prepared for more 5ive tracks by next Spring.
Of course it's not all galaxy smooth chocolate in the 5ive camp. Apparently 5ive have become four with Sean not actually interested anymore. Give that guy a curly wurly. He probably has a real job in Asda by now.
5ive hit the charts at a time when we couldn't absorb enough crap. We LOVED crap. We were in Spice girl fever. We wanted as much glitter and candy as possible. We loved music by Lolly and A1. We all knew the S Club 7 dances. We had Spice world on video.
It was known as mass mental pop illness. Groups like Nirvana worked hard to break the candy M&M shell. As the millennium hit and as the Dome closed, music seem to thrust forward and the pop bubble burst.
So why after a mere 6 years is pop trying to once again sugar my tea?
I'm turning diabetic immediately.

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the art of being uncool

Some shots of the progress at Midsomer Norton on the famous Somerset and Dorset Railway, soon to become Britain's first new steam WORKING railway for almost a hundred years!

The S&D is effortlessly cool, but some people make such an effort at being uncool you wonder where they get the energy! Like the kids who have all the clothes, all the attitude and then spoil it all by shoving one of grandad's fags in their mouth! Tell 'em somebody ...

But this is a true story, Bristol, a few days ago. Me and Trin at the White Hart bash. Now we'd given 'em a blend of the better mainstream stuff, some real dance music, a few classics (from the 90s), and even Plan B. But then one 'grannie' comes off the dancefloor and says (stop me if you've heard this before) 'We like all the modern stuff, we know Coldplay, but could you play some seventies?'

Coldplay? Excuse me? You mean great grandad's favourite clean students, playing that quiet music where you can hear the words? You trying to impress us Gran? Don't try. Go back to the dancefloor, you were doing okay to 'Rock Lobster'. Don't spoil it ... 

never happened in the 70's

What was going through someone's mind when they named Beyonce's new Album B'Day?
Note Wiki

"A bidet is a low-mounted plumbing fixture or type of sink intended for washing the external genitalia and the anus".

There are several rather odd album names in the charts this week.
Scissor Sisters and 'Ta Dah'?
The shaky Shakira with 'Oral Fixation' and Pink 'I'm Not Dead' (was there some doubt?)
But B-Day takes the piss by far.

you make me feel like dying

Trin has already brought this up. Seventies music please ...

Now stop right there. The seventies were the Dark Ages for music. Why would any DJ, particularly cutting-edge ones, play music that was designed to celebrate the nuclear annihilation of the human race? Music from a decade when the height of fashion was the IRA tank top and flares. Where even my dad had long hair and a zapata moustache? When Railway Magazine was 20p and I earned £9 a WEEK??

We are designed to forget that decade. The music celebrated the defeat of the human spirit. We were spiralling into terminal decline with Edward Heath, Leo Sayer and Marje Proops leading the collapse.

It's scary. Teenagers listen to the most awful pap, Daniel O'Donnell at 1 decibel. And people from 'our' generation for the most part seem to have stopped their musical development at the age of 19, hence their nihilistic nostalgia for the 70s.

Get this - discos are for DANCING. Dance music did not arrive till the late 80s, growing from Chicago House and Factory in Manchester, the rave scene and a return to basics.

But, to be fair, I'm game. There must be something from the seventies that just by chance uses a dance beat. The Sweet? Sex Pistols. It's a struggle. Slade? With a dash of irony and more than a dash of alcohol it might just work, so perhaps at the next gig a bit of seventies will get slipped in. But what's the betting it clears the dancefloor and we have to do a quick recovery?

But that's the beauty of DJing - unpredictability and having to think on your feet. Watch this space!!

superstar... you got any 70's?

I see Brassey has written a little review of our gig this weekend. I was so looking forward to it... But I was ill. Superstar DJ's don't get ill I hear you cry... Unless it's too much vodka and redbull or catnip.
I still managed to make a small mark for music though.
I still think it's a responsibility of a good DJ to play good music and try to enlighten the masses a bit. You can never please everyone. Everyone's musical taste is so different. We did ok with the youth. They seemed happy until Brassey played some of his stuff like New Order.
The worst bit was the over 50's. They came up several times and asked if we could switch to 70's music. 70's? Like the New Seekers? ShowaddyWaddy? Sweet?
We didn't have any. Then someone asked if I had Aga Doo by Black Lace. If I was forced to play that track I'd have to garrot myself.
Brassey got an excellent response to Kylie. I hate Kylie. She should have stayed in Neighbours.
We finished our gig and were packing up, when another 70's comment was made... 'disappointed at the lack of 70's'.
So Brassey thinks we might carry a few 70's cds for the future.
Ok... As long as this doesn't mean we are EVER going to start playing bloody Elvis Presley or any 50's crap.
Want a disco? Call us. We are very reasonable.... and awfully cute.

private party

lights ...



kiddies ...



kiddies and grannies ...



wulf finds it all too much ...

White Hart, Bristol, 16 September 2006.

Okay, so not every party can have international DJs providing the entertainment, but that's exactly what happened in Bristol last night, as Brassey Digger and DJ Trin answered the call of a friend and laid on a serious night's entertainment in the tiniest of venues. It was a surprise party so we've had to keep it secret on the Tracks and Tracks site.

Needless to say it was great fun and highly successful. Now to spend the proceeds on new CDs. Fopp in Bristol can expect us on Friday! 

lascivious laura

Don't get me restarted on the youth of today. You know it's my fav subject EVER. But FFS. Picture me, driving home tonight 8pm. The radio is on. They have this thing where you can send in your ultimate playlist. Tell them a bit about yourself. How cool trendy and interesting you are. Then they play three tracks you love.
Today was Laura. The lovely Laura. How many girls do we know called Laura. Are they all the same?
Laura is 20. She's 21 in a few months time. This weekend she's going with her BF Matt to see Robbie Williams in concert.
Then they play a Robbie track /yawn.
Then we find out that she goes out clubbing with her mates. They are 'COMPLETELY mental' /yawn.
Then they play Black Eyed Peas. My humps /yawn
Then we find out that she loves Dirty Dancing and has watched the video so much it's worn out. Tee Hee Laura.
Then they play The New Basement Jaxx track that always makes me laugh because of the line about going out on the town and having a chicken Fajita.
Then we find out that for Laura's 21st Birthday her and love of her life Matt have tickets to see Shayne Ward (no yawn just a large bile stained vomit)
Hang on a sec Laura. Are you hiding behind the few tracks that may have some street cred... But REALLY you have the musical taste of a Fruitbat?
Who admits on national radio to having tickets to see the man who puts chav into Manchester?
Plus how about this Matt character? Robbie Williams? Shayne Ward? You SURE he's straight Laura Love?
I really need a mp3 player in my car.......

window mix

It seems Trinity Towers is in need of new windows for her to view the world passing by.
At 9 am the van turns out and out jump a few burly window men complete with fag in mouths and baseball caps.
Now... How to keep men motivated enough to finish the job tout suite and professionally?
Of course. Trin's Disco mega "Window Mix".
So on goes the decks. I did ask if they had any particular taste in music. One mentioned Stevie Wonder and I immediately knew my job for the day was to fill his senses with music of less dubious trend.

I thought I'd start with some very charty stuff like 'Sexy Back' and 'Maneater' by Nelly Furtado. Within 2 minutes I heard the noise of a window frame being dropped from a great height. It was working. Then we had a touch of the Editors, Panic at the Disco, The Automatic and Pussycat Dolls (window fitters are BIG Pussycat Doll fans)
Then Arctic Monkeys and the fantastic Bob Sinclair whose fast becoming a firm favourite here at Trin Towers.
As an old frame was being pushed out over the cats sat in the front, I turned up The Kooks 'Naive' and hoped for the best.
I'm going for the kill now with Brassey's favourite boys Plan B.
I'm sure a spot of well planned swearing will shift them to actually put glass in the frames.
Watch this space...................
Soon to be found in Woolworths complete with large security patch over track Listing....
DJ Trin's Window Mix. (With free J cloth).

I love my chick

Being top notch Dj's doesn't come easily to me and Brassey.... Ok it's fun but keeping on top of the best tracks for our punters to get their freak on with is a real task.
Wherever we go we're on the look out for that one track that will make the difference between a gig and a party.
Today we were in Woolworths, hardly cutting edge but they sometimes have some real bargains. They had cd's for 99p a few weeks back.
They had a lot of compilation albums, and very reasonable too.... Except the stupid idiots had placed the huge square security tag over every single track listing. Unbelievable. When I go next I'm taking my camera and I'll blog it.
I approached this sales assistant and explained my predicament. She was totally unhelpful. She said that's how they're TOLD to place them.
She refused to even acknowledge that it was stupid. Guys, Woolworths staff REALLY need some lessons on Customer relations.
So we bought nothing. I will not buy a cd there again..... I'd rather patron the fantastic FOPP in town. Keep the decent small businesses going.
Getting ready for a gig has really highlighted the lack of decent dance music ATM. There's a lot of really good older stuff but the new stuff really isn't hitting my G Spot at all.
Maybe I'll make an exception for Justin Timberlake. He's a nice guy. His comeback track Sexy Back is ace. Insistent beat. Yeah. No crap. Yeah. Straight in for the kill. Yeah.
An instant dancefloor filler. Ignore it at your peril.

"Dirty babe

You see these shackles

Baby I'm your slave

I'll let you whip me if I misbehave

It's just that no one makes me feel this way"

And at the other end of the scale we have the BBC's fame academy contestant Lemar with his new track 'It's Not That Easy' . It's had a lot of radio air play. Lemar, home grown. Nice voice. Nice guy, easy going boy next door type. But dull as fuckery. As Brassey puts it. He's Marvin Gaye minus the talent and charisma. I'd rather loop Justin Hawkins singing 'Get your hands off of my woman Mother fucker' over and over on the disco set than play this pile of tross.

tross everywhere

Trin coined the word 'tross' quite by chance, and it perfectly describes what I'm listening to at the moment. I'm trying to track down just a few killer tracks to add to my DJ repertoire, looking for little unknown gems on compilations etc, but to find 'em you have to trawl through loads of tross.

What other business would allow so much rubbish to be produced? I'm not just talking about pop, but you find it in everything, reggae, dance, soul, classical, jazz. Couldn't these trossers get the message that they just weren't up to the job of producing enduring, killer music? You'd spit most of this out if it were a sandwich.

I blame the kids and old folk, 'cos they've either got no discrimination or taste, or their brains have turned to powder. Yet they still buy tross and perpetuate the market.

I haven't found a thing worth playing today ... 

I don't feel like buying actually...

I hate driving to work. I hate the mindless following the same route day after day and the irritation at any car who dares to be in front of me. I also hate the radio. I've often had conversations with people who live in different parts of the country who seem to have good radio station. Down here we don't.
But I hate driving with the fear of an audible rattle in the car and worry that it's about to explode. So I crank up crap radio and hope for the best.
The best however is not the Scissor Sisters. I have their first album. I'm still not entirely convinced by it but taking the Pink Floyd classic 'Comfortably Numb' and Gaying it up was brilliant.
They've been away a while and now they're back. The front Gay guy Jake and his side kick Ana. Lots of showmanship and colour. But talent?
The new track (I don't feel like Dancing) is an embarrassing Bee Gees type rehash. I've heard it several times and each time I hate it more. It has no substance, body or flavour. It's high pitched noise that would drive next doors Dog out of it's cage.
So why is it number one in the download charts?
I was always convinced that those intelligent enough to use downloads and mp3 players wouldn't buy into the crap tracks like Shayne Ward or Ronan (fucking) Keating. So for Christmas this year do not buy your old Grannie an Ipod. If I see Daniel O'Donnell in the download charts I may Implode.
Maybe I'm being unkind to the Scissor Sisters. They don't pretend to be something they aren't. They are basically entertainers. Their talent is their stage persona. Groups however cannot sit on their laurels and fire out tracks to us based on reputation. U2 are especially to blame for that kind of behaviour. They think we are U2 . Everything we do is brilliant.
Umm wake up check Bono. Retire... Go on. Do the whole world a huge favour.

switzerland's surprising seetalbahn

A modern unit on the roadside track.



Why this line has the worst accident record on the SBB.



One of the famous Crocodiles pulling a short train through Seon, 1960s.



Probably the best book on the line.

I discovered the Seetalbahn back in the late 80s, on a four month trip around Europe. I was camping at Mosen and the line ran right by the campsite. The key feature of the line is its roadside running, unusual for a standard gauge line and unique on the Federal Railways. There was a good variety of freight trains, also regular passenger trains in both directions. The trains were very well patronised.

The line was originally titled, in English, the Lake Valley Railway. It's been under fire for years because of it's poor safety record, though all of the accidents have been caused by idiot car drivers! There are, of course, hundreds of level crossings, mostly unprotected. However the Swiss very rarely close railways and in fact the line has benefited from a lot of investment recently, mainly in the form of modern tram-like rolling stock.

The route is pastoral and flat for Switzerland, but with excellent views and runs alongside the lakes which give the Seetal its name.

Well worth a visit! The trains run from Luzern to Lenzburg.

the dj's friend ...

Can you keep a secret? We are gigging again with gigs coming up in September and October. I hate requests, but the irregular disco-goer who last shagged in 1983 always appears and asks for some idiot tune that reminds her/him of his/her youth. One of the DJs in the Vag had the right idea - he insisted that requests were written on paper, and as soon as they were handed in he'd set fire to them. This was before Health and Safety and in Switzerland of course.

Now no bugger can have everything in his/her box/iPod, but the above are the next best thing. I pick 'em up at charity shops for a few quid, so I've always got some old tosh on hand for the occasional nostalgist. These five aren't too hot, but there are a few good tracks within, including Cameo's Word Up and Colonel Abrams Trapped, both of which I have in 12" but not, till today, on CD.

showaddywaddywaddywaddywaddy

The Wads on stage, limping and knicker-dodging ...



A final glimpse through the smoke as we walk away in silence ...

It’s a Friday night on the scary Somerset coastline and two international Djs are looking for action. The bingo’s closed, shutters rattling in the wind, the restaurants have ‘No Irish, Gipsy's [sic] or Vegetarian's’ signs up and the sand is rattling off the dunes and turning our faces into 1:1000 representations of meerkats’ colonies.

Then the magic lights of Pontins beckon, offering warmth, cheap beer and chavs! Who could resist. By some strange psychic power we are drawn to the murky depths of the camp cabaret arena, three acres of pulsating 70s lights, Brummie accents and acrid stale cigarette smoke, mingling with microwave hot dogs and clothes you last saw on the cover of Jackie, circa 1974.

The house lights sparkle and onto the stage come ... Showaddywaddy! It’s pants down time as the ladies whip themselves up into a rock ‘n’ roll frenzy as five be-draped apparent stepdads arthritically stagger around the stage carrying outsize musical instruments. ‘That’s not Showaddywaddy’ complains the lady next to me, ‘where’s Les??’ And indeed I couldn’t spot Les either, the one member of the ‘Wads’ as we call ‘em that even Terry Waite would recognise.
A murmur goes around the arena as fags are stubbed out in anger on those with received pronounciation. ‘We want Les, we want Les’ shout the crowd in one huge Brummie voice.
Suddenly the spotlight hits stage right and he’s there!! Les! Les, of the curved lip and waggly hips, and he starts singing, the crowd (including to her eternal shame, DJ Trin) join in!

It is awful!!!

I’m spiralling back to the 70s, tank top heaven, as the familiar chords of ‘Angel Eyes’ cut through the smoke to reach my complaining ears. ‘We thought this era was forgotten’. ‘Arrgghhh - I feel violated’ and ‘I’m shagging that tonight’ battle for supremacy amongst us, the forgotten Chav-Gestalt of the Council Estates of England. DJ Trin is staring into space, on another plane.

Awful it is!!

And, when I recover later in the street, I try to work out why. You see the Wads were never cool, even in the 70s when tank tops and Susan Stranks and the Tomorrow People were. Yet here they were, in the 21st centuy, in the same suits and playing the same songs, entertaining the chavs at Pontins. Had I entered a parallel reality, or had I imbibed an off Grolsch? Why?

Why? My Nan’s boyfriend took her to see them in Portsmouth in the 80s and I’d wet myself with mirth then! And here they were, two decades on, still doing it. Why?

Rock ‘n’ Roll was always crap - except in the raw and exciting early months when it was almost revolutionary. It was an evil visited on us, it led to nightmares like the Beatles, Pink Floyd, Dire Straits and Tom Robinson. Yes, the Wads latest album includes a cover of 2-4-6-8 Motorway, lovely Tom’s seminal 80s anthem to ... roadbuilding. It’s getting worse, uncool piled on uncool, and the oversize knickers are still flying over our heads to land on Les. Does uncoolness guarantee immortality? Perhaps. Perhaps it fills a need for the uncool majority that will vanish from the earth with nary a trace. Perhaps the Chavs are right all along, not troubling their empty heads with thoughts but with pure experience - wake up, fag, change nappy, eat grease, argue, watch telly, hit kid, fag, yorkshire pud, pub. John Smiths’, raid leccy, fag, punch mum, fall asleep on sofa ... and put on the Wads for entertainment. Perhaps it’s me who’s wrong ...

I’ll sleep on it.

wicked wicker

We wangled four free tickets for The Wicker Man so wandered along to the Multiplex for an evening's entertainment.

Nicholas Lyndhurst takes the role made famous by Edward Woodward in the classic 1972 version. He plays a shy virginal vicar/policeman who can fly a seaplane, juggle bibles and talk in tongues, whilst secretly fiddling with his privates in an almost perverse manner.

He flies to Summerisle. The locals all say 'ooo ahhh' in Wurzel accents, whilst displaying their naked bottoms to ward him off.

'Aim looking for a wee lassie called Rowan, do any of you ne'er-do-wells know her?'

'Oo arr, nae we dinnae ken wee missy.'

'Ye cannae land here wi'oot the laird's permission.'

'So fuck off sassenach.'

Nicholas sets his jaw firmly and goes onto the island anyway, despite the locals flashing their genitalia at every opportunity.

'You see we're all Pagans here. We don't like yon christian and we're likely to do something barely legal if you interfere with us.'

'I'll interfere with whom I wish,' he laughs.



Later he spots a number of naked teenagers dancing by Stonehenge (the Scottish one) and after watching closely for eight hours says 'Disgusting!' and tells the Laird, played by chubby barrel of lard David Hasselhoff, off.

'I'll have you know I'm Lord Summerisle and I'll fain dae whatever I want on my own island you christian fuck!' is his riposte.



Lord Summerisle - calls christian a 'fuck'.

Nicholas sulkily goes into town where he is (unsuccessfully) seduced by Britt Eckland (played by Stephen Fry), and hides under the covers with a bible and a couple of fish.

He still can't find Rowan. He goes to the school where all the girls have beetles on leads but nobody has heard of her.

'Ai've hud of Rowan Atkinson,' volunteers one of the kids, who receives a hearty kick up the arse for her troubles from the burly ex-Fools and Horses star.

Later he sees naked ladies in baths and teenagers humping in a graveyard, but still no clues except for a hare in Rowan's grave.

He's getting cross. 'Ai'm getting cross,' he groans.

It's carnival day. All the islanders are dressed in masks and stuff, the Laird is wearing a wig and dress, but Nicholas is still cross and not really getting into the whole thing.

He's still looking for Rowan when he sees a big Wicker Man on a hill. He climbs up into it and locks the door behind him. 'Lovely view,' he mutters, 'shame aboot the fog.'

Suddenly he notices that the Wicker Man contains hundreds and hundreds of frightened animals. 'I'll wager yon critters are sacrifices by these heathen pagan terrorist fucks. Why these unbelievers are bad enough to burn a christian ... gulp ...'

The flames continue to rise and he breaks into a sweat. I won't ruin the ending but it involves a fleet of US helicopters, Steven Seagal, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jean-Claude Van Damme.

uncool teenagers, the letter from the government and why they ain't ever going to get it

Picture the scene - a party full of teenagers gently sipping alcopops and chatting about their courses and future careers. They huddle together whilst their parents sprawl around unselfconciously.

Who gets to do the music? Well the kiddies try, but their taste is so appalling you are keen to phone ‘Rent-a-Serial-Killer’ to put them out of their misery. A procession of pop pap, chart drivel and manufactured middle-class bands, none of which have a clue.

So the grown-ups surreptitiously stage a coup-d’etat of the CD player and put some good music on. How do the kids react? ‘Wow, what’s this?’ ‘You know this stuff?’ or even ‘Turn it up!’?? No, it’s hands over the ears time and little calls of ‘turn it down’. And they’re not being ironic - these buggers mean it!

I really feel sorry for this batch. I’d hate to be seventeen today. Music is either chart rubbish - Sandy Thom, James Blunt or similar cloned vomit-inducing half-bred lunatics or identikit ‘indie’ cloned sleep-inducing half-bred lunatics playing guitars, posing and - LOL - smoking!.Watching kids today is like looking at photos of Wigan, 1931, hangdog featureless squibs puffing away on feeble roll-ups, coughing up phlegm and mumbling ‘no future - whatever’.

So the poor sods not only are so charisma-free that they like stuff like Green Day but they really don’t have a future, because nobody’s preparing them for the scenario that’s now unfolding at breakneck speed - Climate Change grappling with Peak Oil. These buggers will never drive, own property, live beyond thirty, earn more than a pittance or ski. And they’ll never know what music can do, because they’re so dead from the neck up and waist down that they’ll like anything they’re told to by the morons, lemmings and half-bred lunatics that have decided they’re running the country now ... and just happen to own the music industry. 

Mum Tia's out of her cage!

You ever thought that kids might be ruining music? The kind of teeny pocket money wielding nutter that votes for Fanatical Christian Pete to win Big Brother?
We seem to have got past the boy band obsession, there's a few still hanging on to their Busted tee-shirts. Somehow it's worse when the boyband's dam bursts and we get little random tumours growing in the corner of the charts. Matt Willis, now he's a prime example. Cheeky chappy from Busted. He's the one who wore the wedding dress in that crashing wedding jolly video. Remember him? Now he's back with his brand of 'no longer teen but still young and so handsome and hey see I can Rawk' persona.
He seems to have enough street cred to get past the Festival organisers schedule.
He had this big time slot at V. Luckily we couldn't hear him due to man on mobile phone arranging to meet his mate down the pub.
Suddenly there isn't one boy band but Hundreds of little ex members of running around. Some of them just will not go away.
Ronan Keating is really the worse thing to have been exported from Ireland (since Daniel O'Donnell). Boyzone ended but Ronan seems to go on and on. This week sees him at number 15 in the chart with 'Iris' Iris is quite obviously a song about his crush on his grannies best mate. How he likes to bring her tea in bed and sniff her bunion pads.
The charts really are quite disturbing. I always check them then feel like slitting my rock chick wrists. If only I wasn't frightened of pain.
With the demise of boybands comes the rise of the reality TV star.
Shayne Ward that vomitous lump of Manchester Chav who won X factor last year seems to be waning... ie; no-one wants to buy the fuckers music anymore. Never was his music anyways. Covers r us.
This week has Maria Lawson in at number 20 with 'Sleepwalking' and that chirpy monkey Chico with battery operated symbols in at 24 with 'Disco'
I am unable to give you any idea about either of these songs as to listen to either is illegal, as you all well know.
X factor is back on our TV's. I beg you not to be drawn into this charabang of talentless freaks. And take those teeny texting terrors cell phones away.
No more credit for you little Miss Chardonnay-Varicella. 'Off to bed with a copy of The Famous Five'. Worked for Brassey anyways.

V is for Crap

V festival 2006. Thousands couldn't get tickets. But panic not guys. E4 was showing it LIVE all weekend.
Live the atmosphere with E4. Right.
Dave Berry (who?) presented, probably to his best ability, but for me he was as interesting as a cardboard box. No charisma and no evident musical knowledge.
E4's coverage was hampered by their keenness to cram in as many advert breaks as possible. Last night between 'Girls Aloud' and 'Beck'
(did you see the camera shots of Cheryl Tweedys crutch?)
We had an advert for Canesten Cream (vaginal thrush) ... "Be healthy inside and out" and Senna for constipation 'Natural and gentle' way to shit
We wondered what they thought their target audience was exactly? Do E4 even know what festivals are all about?
The main coverage sadly lacked any atmosphere. Where were the sweeping shots of the crowd singing back to the bands? The little shots of the drummers and bass players talking to each other? We had mostly the lead singer shots and nothing else. Then there was the cock up with the sound. Saturday had a guy talking on his mobile phone over a lot of the bands. It was fecking crap and I almost switched off as it was so irritating. Sunday had a football match commentary over the bands. Resignedly I tried to ignore it until they scored a fecking goal.
The Bands were cut mid song to pan over to another stage constantly. Then we were told we were seeing one band and another appeared. Dave Berry (who who?) ran around like a total wanker needing a piss.
I know live festivals are fraught but have they never watched the BBC do a Glastonbury coverage? Class and quality and even if something does go wrong it's handled with humour and professionalism.
E4? Stick them in the festival Loo's.

festival of wick.... nah V

Me and Brassey love each other. Well whatever feeling that word evokes anyways. We have an understanding. We like each others company. We respect each other.
But when we first met, and the first time he met my iPod, he had words to say about the music on it. My ipod tends to be full of stuff that makes me feel good at this particular moment.
Some of it is pretty dire... Come on I have the soundtrack to 'A Star is Born on it'. But it means something to me. It evokes a strong response, either makes me emotional or happy or angry even. When I need to revisit these emotions I play the tracks.
I was a bit put out by his comments. He laughed that I lived in the past. Nowadays I'd never take offence at him. I'd debate and it would be fun. It's important to have music from the past but it's even more important to move forward and listen to what's being said today. Because some of this stuff is fucking good.
V festival is on TV. It's my attempt to hide the shame I'm not actually there. I went to Reading four years ago and it was worth the hour it took to walk there from the car park, worth the hideous toilets and worth the soaking I got from the English bloody weather.
It has given me more to remember, talk about and think about than any gig. If you get a chance for one of these festivals bloody get and go. Do it.
I saw the White Stripes before they hit it big, Weezer, Janes addiction, The Strokes, Feeder and so much more. I bought a German army jacket from the surplus store and wore it with pride. I sat in a huge field at night with hundreds of small bonfires to keep us warm.
Maybe it wasn't as good as I remember, maybe at the time it was cold and miserable.... But I just remember the atmosphere and the crowd and the music. Yes, the music.
Pulsating across the fields, permeating every single ear. The crowd at fever pitch. All moving in one huge bounce and all in slow motion.
Hmmm maybe I was on something?
V is on E4. Bloc Party are on. I remember the NME front page proclaiming them the saviours of Indie Rock. I turned to the guy next to me reading some fishing magazine and said "saviour's of Indie? I think not" he moved away pretty quickly.
Bloc Party do nothing for me. Never have done. They are tight and edgy and professional but dull.
I watched Xavier Rudd earlier. They showed him doing three tracks. He's little known but has a huge underground following and comes from Canada / Australia... Which figures seeing they are so close together.
I didn't expect to like him at all. One man band with diggery-doo's and harmonica and chimes. But I really liked him. I liked him enough to want to hear more.
Hey, isn't that what music festivals are all about? You hear something new and different and check it out after?
Then you get the band on last. The one you worship and will stand in a field without peeing for 12 hours to watch. Make me 18 again. But 18 and a head for wanting to listen to new stuff, and not just bloody Spandau Ballet.
Shit Girls Aloud are on now. Time to feed the cats.

My favourite lyric today

"Tearin' off tights with my teeth
But there's no relief, I'm wide awake"

Faithless Insomnia (1997)