30 - Entering The Wilderness Years

So I turned 30 and am being forced into embracing maturity in far too many ways and reflecting on all the ways my life has changed and the ways in which I have changed. Many people see birthdays as no different from one another that every year is just another year but I certainly do believe in the importance of milestones and that certain numbers or events can hold specific significance over us to imbibe them with extra gravitas. I can say with some confidence though that age and maturity do not go hand in hand as I am forced to deal with the immaturity of those much more advanced in years than myself. It’s a funny old game this life we lead and the different hands that it deals to people is the wonder that makes us such a diverse and dynamic species but that at times fails to deflect from what arrogant self involved pricks it can make of people. For me embracing the stories and lives of others is what makes us mature, detracting from yourself and realising there are other plains of understanding that are above our own petty needs and desires.  I remember being in middle school and looking at the sixth formers parading around their common room not having to wear the blazer which was making me look so geeky and uncomfortable, sitting in the library discussing UCAS applications and their plans for the future, I was so convinced that they had it all figured out and that when I reached that age my life too would make sense and be filled with a meaningful purpose. On reaching those same UCAS application forms and still feeling geeky and awkward I realised that this notion that I would have made sense of it all by now was far from the case and started to look at those finishing Uni, my elder brother and his friends, listening to their crazy stories of independence and bold shows of individualism and spontaneity, surely these people have it all figured out and that these lives had become full of the purpose I was yearning for, but again at that age I was left disappointed and still no closer to something I still can’t say truly exists. This forward look to a place that looks secure from the distance then feels just as fragile when you teeter on its edge yourself has continued through my years but has now become more comforting than un-nerving.  I have found great peace in my life, a knowledge of myself that I thought I would never have, I still feel geeky and awkward from time to time but maybe that’s just me, maybe that is just my way of dealing with my projection onto the earth. So as each milestone passes without revelation I think I now know that life is a constant revival that we will always be yearning for a higher understanding and I have the humility to hope that I never find it because the truth is really in the journey.

Although I have become distracted from the news of the modern world by long hours and the drama of peoples personal lives it is hard to escape the tirade of coverage and publicised excitement surrounding the royal wedding that will take place in two days time. So does this event fill me with nationalistic pride or send me into a blind rage of Bank holiday based fury. I am very proud to be English and although sometimes spouting the words of a would be Communist Anarchist I am at least intrigued by the Royal family and the sense of reflection they give us into the past magnificence of our nation. The attention and fawning that the Americans feel towards our royals is an indication of their knowledge that there is something lacking from the nation they often tout as being close to perfection and getting one over on the yanks certainly provokes my national pride. My annoyance does come from The governments notion that by making this day a public holiday it is a gift to the nation that will bring us together in shared pride, for as usual I will be hard at work in front of the stove helping to add to the enjoyment of investment bankers and other vacuous fuck-tard’s who will be enjoying their extra day not sitting on their ass looking for new ways to screw the common man. I am not only selfishly thinking of myself or my hospitality industry brethren across the nation but of all the others for whom a bank holiday’s often mean extra work for no extra reward and to add insult to injury have to endure targeted marketing constantly reminding them how much extra fun every other fucker will be having while they slave away, They are probably all sitting around laughing at us gullible mugs. On the whole I am pleased at the attention that we are getting even if it is for something archaic and outdated but I’m sure that on the day I will be cursing the names of every person I see with a smile on their lazy 3 day week smug faces.

I know I am posting this quite a long time since writing it mainly due to the post 30 malaise that I thought would hit really did and I have been left in a quite torrential rain of uncertainty and good old fashioned hiding from your worries with the ever present help of booze. I know that nobody ever really has it fully figured out and that it would be so dull if we did but that doesn’t stop every decision we are forced to make being harder and harder as the gravity of time grow longer and stronger. But before this becomes some sort of speech given as sharing at an AA meeting I must remember the ropes that save me from the pits I throw myself into, maybe my life is just one long quest to compile the saddest playlist of all time or to find the songs that can save me from any misfortune, this week I was greatly helped by ‘Directors Cut’ by Kate Bush always bringing back memories of inappropriate behaviour in low life drinking establishments in Australia this cool seductress pops into my sound waves with an album of exquisite eccentricity and beautifully controlled and poised sensuality. It’s a tour de force for an artist who knows how to use her voice to invoke a reaction that is both visceral and intoxicating. Lyrically tied up in a world all of her own as she always has been the album creates a world that you are left dying to be part of. Essentially these tracks are reworking and rein visioning of earlier pieces recorded in an analogue studio to recapture the eclectically original sound that first made her such an engaging and vital artist but paired down and laid bare for me it is the honesty and compelling nature of the lyrics and the fantastic use of vocal technique that make this release a compelling and engaging listen

More musical elder statesmen returning to the studio to turn out ‘Hot Sauce Committee Part II’ by The Beastie Boys returning from a health scare Ad-Rock, Mike D and MCA return to finish a body of work they started some time earlier and sound as vital poised and cool as they ever have. The sounds are reminiscent of the jazzier In Sounds from Way out but given a gruff dirty sound that sets them apart as dirty funk masters. How these aging hipsters don’t sound ridiculous I don’t know but they don’t possibly due to the humour and tongue and cheek attitude that they have always had towards an industry so full of fakers and people with small musical minds. Passing the mic to ‘Nas’ and delving briefly into a dub sound we see the boys not stuck in their ways without forgetting what endeared them to us in the first place.

That’s all for today folks keeping it short and sweet and trying to keep my head together, the broom cupboards of my life are being cleared out and I am trying to return to a more creative and inspirational place so watch out and keep it vaguely imaginary.

A Higher calling? Taste and Morality

Sometimes it seems as if the world is falling in on itself, and some of those times it gets you to thinking how it doesn’t happen more often, how the complex situations and tenuous bonds that we rely on don’t spiral into chaos on a more regular basis. The world itself seems to be giving us a continuing demonstration of its power over the lives we have built on its vast and varied surface and yet we as a race are still vying for control and are forced into positions where we feel we must risk our lives for the ideals of freedom. Think what you may about the increasing frequency of natural disaster’s spreading their destructive fingers through the world, think Mayan prophecy, think El Niño, think a vengeful god repaying us for our glutinous expansion or just think plain cold hearted bad luck, but please think something, please take stock and let it sink into our brains that maybe all we have isn’t a given and could well be taken away at any minute. Yet no, as a country we still seem resigned to repeating past mistakes and waltzing around another Middle Eastern country under the banner of democracy executing our own special brand of justice for all. Now I’m not pro or con war in general but I am fully against hiding behind one agenda to achieve another, if we want to go back to some good old looting and pillaging taking what we need from the people who have it with the fear of military might to bolster our claim then “fuck the morals does it make any money” but let’s not get in to another complicated deception trying to achieve a supposed good dead while reaping in the benefits through the back door, especially while the people of Libya are speaking of “needing to die for their cause” because that level of devotion to the fight for the most basic of democratic freedoms makes our petty whinging and complaining look pathetic.

From that straight to some whinging of my own which of course is totally pathetic and ultimately still very irritating, my gripe is with taste. Whenever you start a new job there are many things to learn and to get accustomed too, people’s names, where things are, how to make the best coffee and questions of actual work. There is a process of fitting in with the accepted norms of the new place and possibly starting to make your own. It’s easy to forget how the little things make up the feel of a place and how having to deal with something new can be quite a challenge. I am speaking primarily of the stereo. Now in The Three Tuns the little sanctuary of a kitchen Simon and I would always have the radio tuned to ‘Classic FM’, the sounds were inoffensive and filled the room with a comforting noise that would never really draw a line between us never really peak a change to our mood to add any inconsistency to the tone of our work, the same cannot be said for my new place of work. The I-pod dock that looms its musical dominion over the prep area has been an offense to my senses and definitely not a neutral and entertaining comfort. M People at 8am followed by an entire Robbie Williams live at Knebworth and without a hint of irony a “sticking with a live theme” Nickelback concert. Of course there are positives an afternoon making Crab cakes with Coltrane to while away the hours or peeling a sack of spuds with ‘Dub Side Of The Moon’ to help me through, but ohh the inconsistency. Is there such a thing as artistic superiority, I have always believed that there is, that while there are merits in all music we cannot deny that there is a higher artistic pursuit in the music of Radiohead than the approach of Take That, that while Jack Johnson may be bright and breezy he can hardly match the emotional significance of Bill Callahan. Here in lies the problem, music is drawing a line between people rather than being a unifying force, my musical snobbishness forces me to look down at the foolish cretin who just pushed play on James Blunt and they look at me with confused distain when I have finished playing a Frank Zappa album. Maybe the radio is for the best because no matter what rubbish blurts out at least it’s someone else’s fault.

Far from blurting rubbish we see the appearance of the much talked about, raised on the shoulders of the NME release of  ‘What Did You Expect From The Vaccines’ by The Vaccines  with last year’s explosion of Surf-pop/rock who would have thought that a bunch of young Londoners would have a pop and not only succeed but manage to imbibe the release with the sense of English pessimism and fatalistic grumpiness. The album is catchy, very catchy starting with the one minute excellence of ‘Wrekin Bar (RA RA RA)’ we are left pumping our fists in the air and eager for more. There are some lovely turns of phrase in the lyrical style that is honest and quite cheeky while the music manages to draw influence from up-tempo and the more morose end of Punk without seeming cliché. Big shouty choruses and flag waving rhetoric, coming to a summer festival near you.

higher up the bill at those same festivals but I’m sure with a more nonchalant attitude will be these won’t give it up ‘Angles’ by The Strokes  They possibly could be called Indie elder statesmen now but without any of the good charm of growing up or showing any sense of musically moving on. Heralded as the saviours of guitar music some 10 years ago now the band have been bickering and bitching through 4 albums without ever really capturing any of the exciting freshness of their debut while there are brief moments of plinky plonky face grinning loveliness on this album it really doesn’t gel together at all, very little cohesion between the songs and very few new sounds to make us think that these stroppy new Yorkers have anything more to offer. 5 years since your last release and let’s face it you’ve hardly re-invented the wheel, I didn’t hate First Impressions of Earth as much as everyone else seemed too but it would appear my patience has run out.

Coming back from a critical slating with much more swagger are the Canadian miserablists with their new offering ‘Degeneration Street’ by The Dears  after getting the old band back together again after a hacked together version of the band delivered a disappointing last album it seems the united front has learned from past squabbles and are back on form. Being labelled as miserable might not be the greatest accolade but The Dears wear it well and have always been a fan of melodrama and at this album they stretch it to its limits with songs such as ‘Galactic Tides’ a mammoth Muse esque titan of a song that soars higher and higher into the impossible eater but then is brought back down to earth with the uncharacteristic bounciness of the next track ‘Yesteryear’ which tempers the head over heels full on wackiness that they are prone to soar into. The band seems unified and has touches of Springsteen and The E Street Band about them and on a whole is a joy to listen to.

I’d like to finish with a short live review of ‘Elbow’ at The Brighton Centre   I had already laid down the warning to my girlfriend that this is not the most inspirational of venues but with an excellent weekend behind us we headed to the sports cavern with a smile on our faces after all this is the triumphant Elbow and my 14^th time seeing them live. The crowd are most certainly getting older although we do see some unlikely youngsters hanging around. It’s disappointing that we heard one women casting off the support act ‘Villagers’ as teenage angst as it reminds us that Elbow are now in the territory of the Radio one crowd of musical close mindedness, and the last I heard teenage angst didn’t include myopic tales based on ancient Greek myths but there you go. Garvey and the boys take to the stage and it is immediately evident that Garvey’s voice is stronger than ever as he effortlessly delivers ‘The Birds’ the opener from the new album with a charismatic clarity that is him all over. The Banter is great and the show is imbibed with a panto style to and fro between the audience and Garvey who is a natural at setting the tone and speaking of love without making you want to scratch your eyes out. Jutting into the crowd the stage allowed Garvey to interact and make the venue seem small and as Guy and Craig Potter decamped to a piano in the middle of the audience to play ‘Puncture Repair’ and ‘Some Riot’ back to back I could almost forgive them for not playing anything from the first album. This band clearly belongs to the people now but they will always have a special place in my heart.

Elbow - With Me Through Thick & Thin

Reading festival 2001 was a scorcher of a weekend, right slap bang in the middle of my Ecstasy honeymoon, when chemicals where never far away from my person and I was surrounded by like minded drop-outs trying our best to live the bohemian dream. This weekend all my groups of friends would collide in one sweaty field and life would never be the same again, the metal heads, the indie kids, the dance fiends and the grunge crew all raised to another level with the help of amphetamine and alcohol, some people for the first time, and all united in a desire to push the limits and embrace life as hard as we could. Friday afternoon I had literally rubbed shoulders with the great Iggy Pop as he hurtled through the crowd, nobody can inspire the pursuit of excess like this die hard party survivor, for me the weekend really kicked off then and I tested the level of my bodies resilience to intoxication to the very limits and by Saturday afternoon I was a bedraggled mess, my heart was beating irregularly and the chills where running down my arms as the powder blocked the effects of the liquid and allowed me to drink rum continually. And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of The Dead... on the main-stage blew my mind, transported me to another cosmic place that I have long been trying to revisit. I was with my girlfriend at the time who pleaded exhaustion and the need to lie down, now many would have taken this as a nudge nudge wink wink and jumped at the chance to return to the camping area intent on getting intense in a tent but my devotion to music exceeded my sexual desire and I suggested we go and lie down at the back of The Radio One Evening Session Stage and listen to whatever was happening there. Musically this was the start of a love affair that has continued to thrill and excite me ever since, the sounds entering our tired and drug addled brains as we lay in a daze at the back of that stage that seems to conjure darkness even in the middle of summer played in my mind for the rest of the week, even through the intense craziness of System Of A Down the next day and my ridiculous antics prior, during and after Queens Of The Stone age’s set the music I had felt a dreamy part of in that tent struck me as the most poignantly beautiful music I have ever heard. I vividly remember checking my program post festival when the come down had finally finished and realising who the band where then trudging into town to buy their album, then to find out the album was called ‘Asleep In the Back’, that was me! Half asleep at the back of a tent witnessing this music for the first time. Since then the words of Guy Garvey and the music of Elbow have felt intensely personnel to me and as is their talent they have tapped in to the personnel and the beauty in the simple and have become a wonderful part of my and many other people’s lives, each one believing the songs where written for them and them alone. This close, intimate relationship with the music has lead this band to be with me through some of the deep lows and dizzying heights of my life and I can link many situations in my history directly and pointedly with lyrics and themes in the band’s music. As the band have gained critical and popular applause over the years I have been rewarded with the opportunity to share that experience with crowds of varying sizes from the up close and intimate of under 500 in ‘The Angel’ in Islington to nearly 13,000 fans in the Wembley Arena and each time spied the look on people’s faces, eyes closed, voice raised, hands in the air revelling in the effect these tunes have had on their lives. I have stumbled down the hill from my Brighton flat in the dark days of living alone, sat with my fourth bottle of wine of the evening  staring out at the sea wallowing in ‘Powder Blue’ wondering how I will carry on. I have sat on the front of a boat at sunset staring across The Timor Sea and soaked up the beauty and the memory of being’ five years ago and three thousand miles away’, And now I am facing the impending approach of my 30^th birthday with less trepidation as before as I am reminded to remember my glory days fondly and be proud of the person you are by the not surprisingly wonderful new album ‘Build A Rocket Boys!’ by Elbow  After finally gaining the recognition for their work with the massive critical and popular acclaim of their last album ‘The Seldom Seen Kid’, Elbow have become a household name, so much so that if you’re watching the BBC and the program producers wants to convey triumph and/or jubilance then you are probably listening to ‘One Day Like This’. The band are now a stadium act and have supported Rock heavyweights U2 and thrilled crowds of thousands at premium festival slots, so as the band retreat to write an album they know will sell for the first time expectations run rife between die-hard fans as to what direction they will take, how they will cage or exploit their new power as their ability to write anthems has been taken so close to the great British public’s heart. Garvey had mentioned in interviews that it seemed some fans would rather they fail than become an act churning out a full album that would deliver purely on chest beating and fist pumping musical leviathans. We need not have feared.

Elbow’s strength has always been tempered by the fragility and with the core of bittersweet and wonderful lyrics they have managed to resist the saccharine lure and produced an album that again is deeply personal and instantly engaging. Throughout the album the melody is strengthened by its repetition and underpinned with simple yet effective harmony, the band run along with Garvey’s silken voice to show a unified group singing and sounding out proud of their hometown and looking back on their lives and to the future with a mature approach that it is so easy to forget.

The album is thematically strong and imbibed with a very strong sense of Englishness that although is in this case a very direct homage to the bands Manchester home’s, we can all draw from and take stock against the stories presented to us, demonstrating brilliantly the bands ability to wear their hearts on their sleeves but have the listener wanting to wrapped those sleeved arms round them in a hug rather than pushing them away as smug or sanctimonious.

The large sound is still present with rich vocal underscoring but then there is also the fragile sound of a whistle making us feel like we too are walking the northern streets with a poignant glances seeing things now that surely would have been invisible at the time we were the same age and in the same position as those we are now viewing. The album is about growing up, about all the warmness that perspective can give us, about the conquering of teenage angst and about being achingly proud of the person that you are, so much so that you want to be pointing your fingers to the sky and telling these stories till your old and grey. It’s an album that encourages you to go up to your best friends and grab them and tell them how much you love them and how much they enrich the life in which you are proud to live in.

The album has really delivered on all fronts calling on musical nuances from the bands earlier career and coupling this with the notion that these are songs that will be filling large auditoriums very shortly. There is a strong sense of story and place to all the pieces of music and the album is tied together with a strong bond of love that is impossible to miss whatever environment it will be played in.  My musical love affair continues and I am once again strengthened in my resolve by having this music in my life. Thanks guys!

Empathy & The Head

This week I was struck with a worrying and relatively uncharacteristic bout of empathy, a near 'Amnesty International’ fit of concern for the welfare of my common man. Ranting and raving about the woes committed unto us is more a vitriolic spill of anger for me than anything rooted in any sort of actual concern for others, so this lapse into the world of the international heartfelt worrier was quite unsettling. The catalyst for this was what initially seemed like quite a hum drum television program on the BBC where a London bus driver journeyed to Manila, the capital of the Philippines, to live the life of a bus driver in this sprawling mega-city and live with this man’s family to get a measure of his life. My Communist spirit was distressed by the notion of the effort to reward ratio of these two men the lack of equality of opportunity available to global citizens and the ugly reminder of what lazy, pathetic, whinging pricks we have become in our comfortable society. Seeing families of 14 living in shanty housing measuring less floor space than that of my bathroom and eating stew made from the leftover bones of other people’s chicken dinners soon starts to put my little gripes into perspective. I very nearly actually voiced the annoyance that the water pressure in our Kitchen sink is less powerful than I would like – I mean what an unimaginable prick I am.  But don’t worry it didn’t last long, this blog is not about to become a wanky love letter trying to buy your concern for one disenfranchised nation or another, good old fashioned cynicism soon prevailed as I realised what a great distraction pill I was being fed by the popular media box. Try to make me feel bad for being unhappy with my lot while you bury your un-lubricated fist further up our rears.

And as usual there was plenty to try and distract our attention from this week, mainly the Melted wax figure of John Travolta ranting about the evil oppressors as his country burned, his people became as revolting as his face and Mr. Cameron popped into the region to sell some guns. The Middle East is something I’m never going to understand, I try to follow but the reasoning’s are as complicated as they are shallow. All I can see is legions of brave and tired people who have taken it and taken it for far too long and have risen up to try and claw back some dignity and democracy whatever the cost, the question that vexes me is why are we there. Why do British Politicians feel they need to head to this country in turmoil what are they really bringing to the table except another example of how you can fool the population into believing in the democratic lie that you are force feeding them. Enough of this endless toil and human oppression there is far too much to say about the wonder of music to get bogged down with despots.

Sneaking in early and quickly throwing the music press in a spin is the long awaited new release‘The King Of Limbs’ by Radiohead I can remember when I first bought a digital cd player, spending far more than I really should compared to what I earned and having that guilt in my stomach as I unwrapped it from its protective casing, the people I owed money too would surely demand an explanation for this shiny silver disc I was now clutching in my hands. I can also remember the first CD I listened too on that player, it was ‘Kid A’ and as the music bleeped into my headspace in delicious stereo all guilt was gone and I was transported to another musical plane that Radiohead have delivered me too on so many occasions prior to that. As with so many avid fans this band have a special place in my heart and to all intense and purposes I think they can do little wrong.

The Album is a deliciously dark blend of syncopated beats and soaring tender melodies that twist a bitter tale and transport us to the artistic world that the band have been creating and working towards for twenty years, it’s dystopian governments, it’s ancient tree’s, it’s English customs and folklore, it is eerily wonderful. Short but perfectly formed the album creates a sonic sound space that has been evident in their last three releases but whereas the guitars and gritty crunch had returned on ‘In Rainbows’ here we see a smoother tide and it is the melodic tide of the vocals that really pull you in.  The drum beats dart quickly between machine and man and flick between styles, at times promising ‘a drop’ something from a modern dance genre and then delighting us with its jazz syncopation and fractured edginess. The band clearly have nothing to prove and this has freed them up to produce music that defies expectations and can concentrate fully on the warmness of the sound and creating something that represents men who have been playing music together for most of their lives and have grown with their success rather than grown to further their success.

I feel I must address the doubter’s because this has made me angrier than the ranting of Gaddafi not only at the shallow mindedness of the music listening public but at the cretins who get paid to review music and somehow manage to listen to everything else except the album itself. The release of the album was early and relatively unannounced, there is initially no physical format and yes it is not a guitar album. Most reviews initially concentrated on these facts rather than the music and when it did talk content it was more in a context of comparison to earlier works and telling us all what we wanted from a Radiohead album that somehow what we really wanted from the group was ‘Karma Police II’.I think it is true Irony that a band that at the same time can have foolish dullards make comments about their 'off the wall lack of tunes' and then be called predictable. Radiohead have amassed a body of work that will dwarf the creativity and ingenuity of most recording artists in the last 2 decades, this is a continuation of the cosmically organic growth of an ego free group of Oxford legends. A true definition of irony is somebody who doesn’t know the difference between a definition and an example.

If Guitars and simple melodies are what you want then this band has given them to you, if it’s an indication and insight into what is happening inside the heads of these musical maestro’s now then here it is laid bare. This is everything I could have wanted from them and more and although its slightly galling maybe it makes me happy that it has pissed some people off because they don’t deserve it, what do they know and after all, ‘Anyone Can play Guitar’

All this musical drama in a week that also gave us the much more timed and media friendly release of           Let England Shake’ by PJ Harvey this album is much more than media friendly it is a part and tied up in the reporting of facts in a poignant and poetic way, written as if it was war correspondence. “Can anyone write a protest song?” they asked, well apparently this chameleonic indie icon most certainly can. This is a pointedly honest and straight look at War’s carried out in the good name of England that has the duality that Harvey’s work has always produced being at the same time damming and harsh and also being achingly proud. Quoting words written by soldiers at the sight of their fallen comrades may sound like the album will be heavy and morose but it is quite the opposite it deals with the dark with light touch that is much more revealing than the bulldozing approach. The mature way in which the subject matter is handled is embroiled in the spirit of Englishness in the album. This is not a look at what you wish had been but a reflection of what truly was and what we can learn from that. I think she has really come into her own on this album but at the same time don’t expect we will see anything remotely similar from her again as is her way.

And finally for me and apparently for him in this guise we have ‘The People’s Key’ by Bright Eyes As a scratchy voice begins to deliver a monologue about extra terrestrial beings in the shape of reptilian monsters invading our history strangely we feel to be stomping familiar ground.  The theme of earth and humanity as a small and inconsequential dot is one that seems to weigh heavy on Conor Oberst’s mind and while the cosmic gate of the previous album ‘Cassadaga’ was balanced with pithy folk songs with a balance of swagger and frailty I just don’t feel this offering has the heart to pull it off. Conor’s voice can be disconcerting but in his earlier work while it was heartbroken and forlorn or as part of a big band folk revival it blends nicely but here it seems jarring and stunted. I’m sure that this album will be received well by the many faithful who see that this Nebraskan Folk Pixie can do no wrong and I do believe that he is making music that he loves and is raw but for me I feel that a break would at least do him well to embrace this other worldly image more fully and who knows maybe return as the next Ziggy Stardust.

Thanks for reading and do join me again as I get to blush and swoon at the appearance of a new album from my very favourite band ‘Elbow’ and hope that it can carry me through the pains of returning to being a working man.

New Cat's & U-Turns

So there is a new cat in Downing Street, let’s hope for his sake that he has a healthy appetite for rats because that place seems to be crawling with them, but then again The Fat cat and the Political Rat usually end up getting on famously. It’s been another week of U-turns half measures and distraction as we are goaded into some sort of caring attitude where we will shoulder the burden and basically keep quiet and turn the other cheek for a constitutional bitch slap.

I really don’t know if it’s in our genetic background to be caring for our fellow man and have strong minded community spirit, some will say that we have evolved past the survival for the fittest pattern of self preservation and have developed a moral obligation and the ability to share the wealth’s of the world, to be giving of ourselves. This might be a well and good notion to put forward if we are operating in a fair and meritocratic society in some sort of pluralist quasi reality but for the current administration (it’s getting hard to call it a government) to suggest we band together in some kind of unexplainable sizeable society is too put it quite frankly a fucking insult. This is not blitz Britain where the brave and noble came together to get through hard times, to unite against a shared enemy that was creating the problems that were facing them, because this time the enemy, the problem isn’t a fascist dictator intent on world domination it’s a fascist organisations that we technically own crippling us financially to aid their aims of world domination. Capitalism has created an unfair society where some will have and some will be forced to do without and instead of trying to level the playing field those with the power are taking more from us and then telling us to band together and take it with a smile on our face, all filling our ever dwindling free time involved in community minded projects. The unemployment in the country is forcing people into competition with each other with the youth suffering the hardest, it’s dog eat dog for personal survival and yet the comfortable elite are suggesting we do more to lend a helping hand to be quite frank again, go fuck yourselves.   

Maybe we have some power though maybe we have more than our pointless vote to make a difference maybe protesting and direct action can make a difference as we see a complete U-turn on a policy set out to sell public forests, or maybe it’s a tactical rethink to make us think we have an understanding and open eared government, pick your fights because they will certainly pick their moments to show compassion.

Maybe the answer is to reform the way our voices are heard through voting, to appropriate a system that increases our choice and clarifies our way of expressing our political desires. Or maybe we are having the ropes that bind our democracy pulled like strings on a marionette and the utter futility of it all blatantly paraded through the notions of choice and free will before it crumbles in a sad and tired pile in front of us, leaving its supporters more angry and defeated than ever and giving those in opposition strength to their fraudulent claims of operating in a true democracy.  We can’t seem to motivate the people of this country to get to the ballot box let alone give a hoot about what happens when they actually get there and giving the average Jo more things to decide seems like a pretty poor way of getting more people of getting more people involved. Make it more fun more sensational make it more like ‘It’s A Knockout’ or get large foam cotton bud, physical violence and the noise aghhhh-woooogha! Involved, that's the voting reform we need. Given the chance to have a democratic vote on the multi million pound football transfer deals that take place I’m sure we would have a much greater queue outside the local primary school than that for one to be involved in the multi-trillion pound deals being made with our money, made by people masquerading under the notion that they fairly won the job of making the decisions on our behalf. Democracy is a joke and one that will always be protected by those who can dangle its notions of fairness and morality in our faces as it selfishly serves their interests.

But like I always say there’s always the music. Don’t let the fuckers grind you down, although for one artist it will grind to a halt as he ends his four album reign of thug-laureate in his last outing ‘Computers & Blues’ by The Streets I remember very clearly where I was when I first heard Mike Skinner’s voice invading my ear-space and being instantly dismissing of it but remember it slowly making its way into my musical conscience and as I see the lyrics play out in situations in my own life falling for this loveable rogue. The sound he in part helped to create has gone through a lot since the original pirate material locked down our aerial’s  but Mike has stuck to his guns and delivered an album of tidier but definitely personal sounds with a rare funk that gives him space to use his skill of making the inane seem poetic.  Facebook love affairs and the ever present use of Google to solve all our problems may seem shallow but it’s real and as all his music has been it’s of the moment and full of the heart on your sleeve honesty it’s hard to mock. While so much music gives youth twisted ideas of attainment and a warped sense of values the moral of Skinner is admirable yet always infused with a sense of mischief and fun. “Sometimes you have to find out for yourself, Sometimes you need to be told, Sometimes you never find the answer”, comforting and realistic.

Another group who did a lot to push a sound into the mainstream return to the with their star studded aggressive second album ‘No More Idols’ by Chase & Status the dirty sound of dub-step has invaded the bastions of aggressive dance like a plague, a bass driven vomit of power that leaves those swept up in it slightly mocking of everything that came before like Drum & Bass is the cute bunny that has been torn apart by this bull mastiff of new noise. But dance music fans are fickle and the market moves fast, too much of the same and you’re not with the scene, don’t give them what they want and the toy’s are quickly thrown out of the pram. Lots of big names help to keep the attention and though it at times sways well over into melodrama the album has the punch and anger that it needs to push you towards the inevitable drop. I believe there is an appropriate time for most types of music and possibly unfortunately the volume required to do this music justice is rarely appropriate for my life at the moment but this outing certainly makes you yearn to crank up the speakers, I’m sure it will be the soundtrack to many a speeding ticket. The inclusion of a Jim Morrison sample is bordering on sacrilegious but then again the gravely pith of the lizard king’s voice can quite easily brush aside the brash swagger of Mr.Tempah or the high speed ranting of that balance challenged Rascal, and if Morrison could be returned to us I’m sure he would be hugging the speakers and begging for the jump off.

At another side of the trying to make you dance floor giving you some intense eye contact is this offering ‘Blue Songs’ by Hercules & Love Affair  from the first beat this album is very gay, not the happy go lucky, look at me bounce around gay of ‘The Scissor Sisters’, or the high camp super sexy ‘Kylie’ gay this is the two dry fingers straight up there super butch gay, though the strings bounce along nicely there is a cool directness  in the voice that can’t be ignored and is quite intimidating. I’m not using the gayness as a negative it’s just highly evident and hard to ignore, unfortunately the music is as confused as the sexuality and the album tries to be bitter and touching while wanting you to bop your head. With ‘Anthony Heagerty’ the last album was given the validation in the sadness that it needed but the beeps of the house sound are in so many ways just not for me. Reach for the poppers and listen in a dizzy headed state of aural arousal and maybe it’s right up your street but I’m not sure they know where their heads are at anymore which decade, which hole and what sound.

And finally something that is definitely right up my avenue of angst and prompts me to turn up the volume despite of what the neighbours think ‘Tao of The Dead’ by And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of The Dead.... The pomp and circumstance of the guitar opera sound get’s dusted off and thrashed around for another dark mystical tale, slaying all in its path. I have loved this band since I first heard them swagger and crunch perfectly time their soar to capture you in the racket and then deliver the pointing finger at just the right time. Swirling grandiose power throws us around like we are being battered by a musical storm and being dragged down into the mind of a deranged clown. Listening to this album makes me think of the strange power in the sky that two star fleet captains are attracted to in the film ‘Star trek – Generations’, I saw AYWKUBTTOTD live once and listening to their music now is like a personal endeavour to get back to that feeling of being there locked inside the experience. ‘The Who’ tried too hard to get their point across and ‘Mars Volta’s’ story was too convoluted for anyone to pick up on it, but with this you can feel the noise or get trapped in the nuances. ‘Muse’ ruined themselves in the waves of the popular and made that space rock sound a dirty word but these guys will take you to the heavens and into the afterlife.

So I’m getting towards a routine and should be connected back to the warming information fountain of the world wide web very soon so I can make up for lost time and keep my finger a little closer to the pulse. Some musical big hitters on the table next week, lot’s to live up too. Keep yourselves beautiful.