Ah, good old Moz. As I mentioned in a previous entry, I'm on a bit of a Smiths/Morrissey kick at the moment. I'm currently reading bits of Johnny Rogan's 'Morrissey - The Albums' and Simon Goddard's 'Songs That Saved Your Life', both of which break the analysis down to individual songs, although the first of the two also deals with the solo releases of our man. They're both engaging books, and while the hardcore fans seem to hate Rogan with a passion, his comments on the solo stuff have spurred me on to go back and listen to ignored, and critically unpopular, albums like 'Southpaw Grammar' and 'Maladjusted'. While I may not agree with everything he has to say about the songs, it's given me a chance to listen to them in a fresh light. What I've particularly enjoyed about the experience is noticing just how splendid Morrissey's voice can be. It's unique, it's distinctive and occasionally compared to a malfunctioning foghorn, but at times it can floor you. 'Vauxhall & I' is getting played a lot at the moment, and it only serves to point out how bizarre it was for the Britpop scene not to hold their natural royalty aloft. Weller was the appointed guv'nor of Britpop, but Moz was certainly deserving of a similarly elevated position. Anyway, a more critical approach to the man and his tunes will appear here once I've got my thoughts in order, but I thought it was worth posting this so that anyone who might class themselves as a regular reader can do some homework and then may even join in via the comments option. T'would be splendid to hear from you. Here's 'The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get', from 'Vauxhall & I'
The home site for the whole Vinyl Junkies idea is available by clicking to the right of this post. Recently the nature of the original site has moved in a more blog-like direction and I figured that it might be worth firing up the old blog that I'd created alongside the site. I will cross-post between the two sites and will aim to keep posting to this site regularly. The random musings will be mainly concerned with music and will frequently be doing no more than advising you to buy a certain record. I can assure you that these recommendations are simply as a result of liking the record, and not receiving back-handers in brown envelopes. Or white ones for that matter. Or any envelopes. Or indeed, any back-handers. Should you wish to get to grips with my writing style and decide whether or not it's going to be worth returning here, I would recommened you visit the main site and have a look through what's currently available over there. It'll pass the time at the very least. Right then, the latest site post is below this one but let the random musings begin.
The Good, The Bad & The Queen is the name of an album - not, repeat not, a band - according to cheery chap Damon Albarn who fronts the supergroup of sorts. Regardless of his desire to maintain the mystique surrounding the group this album remains one of my favourites of 2007 thus far. I returned to this record today as a result of the constant rain (see post below). It's an album that I think suits rainy British days perfectly, in a way that no band have managed since The Smiths. It's melancholic, occassionally glum, but full of shimmering melodies and musical touches that betray the calibre of the musicians involved. If you're ignored it because of a sniffy aversion to Damon Albarn or if the singles haven't quite grabbed you, I urge you to give it another chance. It takes a few listens, but once it's got you, it's near perfect. Here's the slightly bizarre video for 'Kingdom Of Doom'
As a footnote to this, I should point out that the vinyl edition sounds much better than the CD. The CD appears to be yet another victim of the 'loudness wars' that people with odd hair and no friends spend far too long talking about. In other words it's a bit mashed up and distorty (heh! I invented a word!)