Hello dear reader of Vinyl Junkies. You are clearly a person of exceptional taste and somebody who probably spends slightly too long on the net. Nothing wrong with that, I just thought it best to tell you that you now need to waste a small fraction of your internet time in a different corner of the web from the one you're currently visiting. I've decided that Vinyl Junkies has reached the end of its life span. This site is looking quite tired now and the name is a little confusing as people think it refers to either a record shop in London or some club night or other. As much as I love vinyl, and I really do, the main thing I write about is music, not the format. And so, Just Played is born.
To visit, luxuriate in its (not especially well tinkered with just yet, but I'll get there) splendour and generally nosey about, please redirect your bookmark to the following address:
http://justplayed.wordpress.com/
From here on, it's highly unlikely that I'll be doing any updating on this site and I've carried over ALL of the posts from this blog to the new one, so it'll all still be there. Please visit!
There's a new email address for any comments you'd like to make but would prefer not to post on the blog: justplayed@hotmail.co.uk
Thanks for taking the time over the last five years of Vinyl Junkies - firstly on a makeshift website, then this blog - to have a read, post a comment or even visit your local record shop. You're a truly lovely person. Just make sure you follow, ok?
Well, it looks like I've found somewhere else to spout about records on a monthly basis after a lengthy hiatus. May say a little more when it's confirmed. It's a nice feeling anyway, after a couple of years of not being able to say, "I'm in WH Smith" to loved ones, friends and bemused strangers.
Anyway, it looks like I'll need to be even more concise with my words than I used to be. As if trying to write about music wasn't difficult enough in the first place, this is a right bugger because it pretty much guarantees that you can't set the scene. So, in an attempt to get myself back into old habits, I present the first offerings in a terribly exciting selection of 20 words reviews. Feel free to contribute some yourself. It might even be fun.
The Divine Comedy - Regeneration
National Express man loses orchestra, suit and raised eyebrow but gains long hair, weird noises and Godrich production. Oddly undervalued.
The Divine Comedy - Absent Friends
National Express man regains orchestra, suit and raised eyebrow but loses sense of fun and retreads past to limited effect.
Blur - Think Tank
Not much Graham, too much Fatboy Slim. Often chilled, sometimes heartbreaking and - whisper it now - actually Blur's best album yet.
U2 - No Line On The Horizon
Crap. Cack. Shit. Toss. Balls. Plop. Shite. Icky. Smug. Piffle. Cobblers. Codshit. And, just for variety like, absolute smoldering arse.
Suddenly that two years hiatus makes sense, doesn't it?
Good old Graham Coxon. Not only is he a member of one of the greatest bands of recent times, creator of one of the early contenders for 2009's album of the year and one of the few musicians willing to contribute honestly and openly to online discussion boards, but he's pioneering exciting and alternative ways to make money out of music. As huge fans of music, this can only be pleasing news for us, as the more that musicians develop ways to make releasing tunes into the current climate viable, the more great music we'll continue to be graced with.
Coxon's new single, 'Sorrow's Army', is available in one format only. An art print. Ok, that art print comes with a download code for that track, but the release itself is something you can't actually play. The print itself is rather lovely (click to see the image, as uploaded by 'salmon' from the Blur forum) and sets you back £4-£5 depending on where you purchase it from. Not bad for an art print and it's worth remembering that the song on its own would have sold for 79p. Not a bad mark up. Naturally, art prints aren't suddenly going to become the format du jour, but it's a great example of an artist adapting to the rapidly changing commercial nature of music selling. Graham's fans all seem pretty chuffed with the item and it'll be raking in the cash for his record label. It's certainly a more appealing alternative format than the USB releases that Keane and Ed Harcourt have attempted of late and, while I'd never have considered buying 'Sorrow's Army' as a single, having already purchased the rather splendid album, 'The Spinning Top', my five quid went winging its way to Transgressive Records quicker than, well, much quicker than they actually sent the bloody thing, but we won't dwell on that.
This seems like a good time to mention just how utterly terrific his new album is. I'm not sure what I was expecting from it - certainly not what I got. The Record Store Day exclusive 10" of 'In The Morning' gave a pretty decent indicator, with eight minutes of acoustic splendour, gentle vocals and a delicate touch not normally associated with solo Coxon.
Two immediate highlights are the aforementioned, 'In The Morning', and 'Look Into The Light'. Listen to both below.
See? Now go and buy the album.
What, you need more convincing and a more persuasive pitch?
'The Spinning Top' is Graham's masterpiece, lengthy but enthralling, beautifully sung and exquisitely rendered. There are touches of Nick Drake, particularly on 'Look Into The Light', and, as he's explained in numerous interviews, the music of Davey Graham sent him off in this direction in the first place. Gently affecting, hugely understated and unlikely to immediately strike you as a stone cold classic, 'The Spinning Top' slowly abducts each and every heart string until suddenly the one, almighty tug brings you on side and from that point onwards there's no looking back.
Now go and buy the album.
Long time readers of this blog will remember how I used to get ever so slightly too excited about Bank Holiday Monday trips to my local indie emporium when, with literally no logic to back this up, I used to spend without impunity, somehow convincing myself that money spent on a bank holiday doesn't count. Actually, now I think about it, what with it being a day when banks have a holiday, that's not quite such an idiotic idea. Still quite an idiotic idea, mind.
Anyway, said days are long since gone, what with most of the record stores in the whole world having closed down. I'm now left to take my chances with whatever I can find. And so I found myself in a hotel in Derby this morning, flicking through boxes of mainly second-hand vinyl. Most of it, it must be said, was toss. If you ever need a battered copy of any Tina Turner album, a record fair's the place for you. In fact, if you ever need seventeen battered copies of any Tina Turner album, a record fair's the place for you. Sadly, it also appears to be the place for people who get so lost in the supermarket that they never quite find the aisles for soap and deodorant. Sadly, despite the late, great Joe's claim, they can still shop happily. Still, there should be a little corner of the world for everybody and, just like the New Year Sale in HMV is the place for the chronically flatulent, record fairs seem to be the place for the slightly unwashed.
Not me, I hasten to add. I smell perfectly fine, thanks. Anyway, after flicking through the aforementioned tat, I alighted upon a stall selling new stuff. It dawned on me how infrequently I actually get to physically hand over the cash for vinyl these days. The charming bloke I ended up buying a few records from, whose name I can't remember - something like Dave, told me that the record-selling business is so shit these days that he's just resorted to record fairs and "my Vauxhall Cavalier." As a result of these circumstances, most of my record buying occurs online. Not through choice, so much as lack of options.
This neatly dovetails with a request from a rather splendid chap (who has recently directed people to this site from his own rather fine corner of the interweb) for a general guide to picking up vinyl at decent prices. So, provided you don't all start buying everything I want before I can get it, I present:
The Vinyl Junkies guide to buying vinyl
I know, imaginative title, eh?
1. Indie stores online
First and foremost, if you're after new release vinyl that isn't just the latest overly-loud, overly-pompous and overly... well, shit, U2 album then you'll need to identify a few indie retailers who cater for tastes similar to yours.
My chosen benefactors are the splendid people at Norman Records, who I've mentioned previously.
They stock pretty much all the new release stuff you could wish for and, almost always, at the best price you'll find online. They ship the items in very sturdy packaging and turn around orders pronto. Their communication is second to none and often rather amusing. Decent sized orders tend to come with a few sweet - works for me - and they publish weekly reviews of an irreverent nature which carry the following advisory message:
Warning: stay away if you're going to be all offended by us slagging off your favourite artist. We reserve the right to hold an opinion!
The one thing to bear in mind is postage. Vinyl is heavy and bulky and will always require a few quid bunged on top of your order. That said, order more than £50 worth in one go and shipping is free!
There are a few other indie retailers I frequent:
Action Records - The shop in Preston is lovely, the web service is quick and pretty competitively priced. I use them for reasonably recent back catalogue stuff. If you're after something from the last five years, and it's not already super-rare, Action are a good bet.
What Records - Now online only. Vast stock, lots of upfront listings in order to ensure you can get hold of very limited pressings and very secure shipping. Neither particularly keen on obscure stuff nor the cheapest, What is pretty dependable for the rare stuff.
Leaning more towards electronic music than Norm, but covering similar ground, Boomkat is another place to go to for the very limited indie store only pressings and it also does a nice line in flac downloads - not that that's what this post is meant to promote!
2. Catching the big boys getting it wrong
I do so love benefiting from a mis-price by Amazon or HMV. It's double satisfying: knowing you get a bargain and that bargain is directly linked to one of the indie-slayers not making so much money. As a technique, it only really works on pre-orders and you'll need to get in early. Online retailers, or etailers if you will, try to outdo each other in terms of getting things listed first in a bid to get extra sales. As a result, this doesn't always lead to entirely accurate listings. HMV listed the Oasis vinyl box set for 'Stop The Clocks' as a single vinyl at £12.99 delivered for a month. Amazon were gladly flogging the recent Aidan Moffat and the Best Ofs vinyl/CD/bonus CD/7"/Valentine's Card/board game box set as a piece of single vinyl at £13.69 delivered. Peter Doherty's 'Grace/Wastelands' vinyl pressing was £7.98, the same as the CD, delivered for a month. It's all about luck and it's not a guaranteed route to bargains, but it throws up some decent stuff.
3. Caiman on Amazon Marketplace
If it's an album that's getting a release in the US, then a good source of cheap, new vinyl is Caiman USA, Caiman Zone, Caiman Bargain or whatever they're calling themselves at the exact moment when you order. Often charging £8-9 per item, with the stock £1.24 postage on top of that, you can get some real bargains. They tend not to list items until a week or two after release, and those prices don't stay around for long, but they're worth checking for on most new releases.
As for second hand stuff, I can't really offer much more than you already know. Track down your nearest second-hand retailer, keep an eye on eBay auctions that finish in less 'busy' times and search via places like Gemm and Musicstack. That said, car boot sales and record fairs remain the best places to pick up second-hand bargains.
Feel free to leave a comment correcting me, adding extra info or simply sharing your experiences. I enjoy reading about this sort of stuff, honest!
Oh, one last thing. I write a reasonably well-followed blog (which has already been visited by the rather splendid Thomas Pugwash) and yet I've not been sent a promo of The Duckworth Lewis Method's new album to review. I'm naturally quite hurt. That said, a rather positive review will be appearing at the aforementioned splendid chap's aforementioned site shortly.
EDIT: The Duckworth Lewis situation has picked up. Yay.
The new Pet Shop Boys album, 'Yes', sounds utterly tremendous on vinyl.
It's not too shabby on CD either, like.
The Maximo Park album is not as bad as it first seems but not as it good as it really should be.
2009 already has rather a lot of top notch albums:
and there's still stuff from Massive Attack, The Divine Comedy and Richard Hawley to come. Lovely.
Blur are back together and this particular Cinders is going to the ball. A bit giddy, truth be told. Listening to lots of b-sides at the moment. Those waltzy instrumental numbers are ace, aren't they?
Apparently, Selectadisc isn't dead. It's been bought and will be back soon. Good.
Yet more proof that supermarkets are killing music. Fuckwits.
Northern Portrait are wonderful. I may well have said this before. Go and listen and then buy their EPs from the nice people at Matinee Records.
The new Maps single doesn't sound like much at first, but after a while it takes over your head.
I know it's in the list above, but you really do have to listen to the new Graham Coxon album. It's beautiful.
The new Wilco album has a silly cover.
Doves are better live now than ever before. They've gone from being a slow band that does the odd fast one to being a fast band that does the odd slow one. I know, I know, that's what they were in their previous incarnation, but still.
Mondays aren't the same without Stewart Lee.
So, this, I guess, is what Twitter is like. Only, I'd have had to click submit after each and every mildy-interesting comment. How exciting!
I'm supposed to be working. That's why I'm here. If you like, you can imagine the traditional apology for a delay in posting. Feel free to inset it about here. Done? Splendid.
If you like buying records from people then you will soon be officially 'odd'. It's not possible, apparently. Even the odd record shop still going - yes, HMV, I'm talking about you - doesn't appear to actually want to sell music anymore. Branded 'listen' or 'hear' or something equally patronising, music is gradually being shunted into the small section previously reserved for 'special interest' DVDs and magazines. In the last couple of months, we've had the demise of Woolies, Zavvi and, more personally, the news that Nottingham's Selectadisc is shutting up shop at the end of this month. I've written about this topic many times on here, so I'll try not to witter on about the same-old, same-old, but I'm genuinely pissed off at the fact that my record shopping will soon be done almost exclusively online. Where's the fun in that? Anyway, Selectadisc has always been a shining beacon of how to run a record shop - I've said as much here and Nottingham's Left Lion folk have a tribute here too.
The other thing I felt compelled to mention - admittedly, once again, fuelled by work avoidance - is the new project from Neil Hannon and that fat beardy bloke from Pugwash, called Thomas Pugwash. While his voice is largely unremarkable, the splendidly, well, splendid voice of Mr Hannon delivers the goods aplenty on the Myspace page for this new venture, charmingly called, The Duckworth Lewis Method, as in cricket. The album'll be out around the time of The Ashes for prime cash-in factor. They appear to have forgotten that neither of them sell many records, but it's quite sweet logic, nonetheless. Anyway, whatever the sales figures, the track they uploaded yesterday, 'Gentlemen and Players' is sublime. I've not been able to stop playing it since I first heard it. I'm playing it now, actually. Go listen yourself. Click here.
Should probably do some work now.
Oooh, it's lunch time.
One of the many splendours of Sky + is the way in which it invites you to record even the most minimal and insignificant fluff, just because it's no effort at all. For me, the clearest example of this is the Channel 4 tendency to show exclusive first plays of new music videos at some time around midnight. Can I be arsed making sure I'm watching the telly for that precise five minute window? No. But give me the chance to press a button, forget all about it and then come back to it another time, and I'm in!
Last night, Channel 4 played out the new video from Morrissey, for ''I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris'. This morning, feeling a bit fluey and equipped with a strong cup of tea and some Nurofen, I settled down to flick through the telly. As I watched this particular video, I could only think of one thing. Doesn't Morrissey look old? Let's be absolutely fair to the chap - he is actually getting on a bit. It's not like he looked 25 last week and now he looks like he's smoked Amy Winehouse, but he just seems to actually be looking his age or even a little older.
It's no great surprise, people get older after all, but my first proper exposure to Moz was his Nineties Britpop incarnation and he was still rather spritely then. Even his most recent albums were supported by performances that suggested a man full of energy, passion and natural charm.
Watch this and see if any of that is still there now:
See? I'm not imagining it, am I? Now, I should confess that the reason why I'm so struck by his aging appearance is entirely selfish. I can't help thinking that time must have seriously moved along if 'my' generation of indie legends are starting to look a little rough around the edges. Noel's greying, Supergrass have the sideburns of a randy farmer who, in times of loneliness, has been eyeing up the goats and Moz looks like he's been cryogenically frozen and is now being operated by strings. I'm getting ever nearer to dropping out of the traditional 'new music' demographic and it feels odd. Of course, there are self-imposed boundaries that don't exist in the real world, but it still feels a bit strange to look at the figureheads of my youth and find them appearing more than a little lived in. Still, doing an impression of a Weeble trying to seduce a small dog is nothing compared to this silly old tart.
As for the song, it's quite good actually. It's Morrissey-by-numbers, but after 'Ringleader Of The Tormentors', which was about as much fun as an aneurysm, I'll happily take that. After all, that's what made us all like 'You Are The Quarry' so much, wasn't it?
***
As this blog is actually called Vinyl Junkies, I should take this moment to point you in the direction of your nearest Zavvi. They're currently flogging all of their vinyl at half price. Provided your local shop had a reasonable range prior to their administration issues, they should have plenty for you to pick up at rather splendid prices. Ok, they're not exactly giving them away, but anyone used to buying plenty of vinyl is used to fairly robust pricing, so getting it at half price is quite a big deal. I'm quite happy to tell you this as I've already cleared out the two stores nearest to me! Get there while you can.
This is, of course, the precursor to a potential repeat of the recent insanity found in Woolworths stores, as stock was cleared prior to closure. Nobody's saying anything about how secure Zavvi's future is right now, but it's hard to imagine any single buyer coming in and keeping the chain as it is now. While I picked up a fair old number of CDs and DVDs in the Woolies clearout, it was a rather depressing affair. Plenty has been said in the media about the demise of this much-loved chain, but anyone who loves music has their own precise memories of the Woolworths music section and it still seems odd that it's not there now. I was in one store a few hours before it closed and it was very odd. Imagine that Britain is at war, everything - even pick'n'mix and large plastic replicas of minor characters from Doctor Who - has been rationed. Sprinkle in some paranoia and desperation and that's a little bit like how it felt. Still, cheap CDs, eh?
***
And finally, it's been such a long time since I posted here that I never did anything about albums of the year for 2008, so I'm just going to re-post the list that I submitted to the end-of-year lists on the various music sites I frequent.
1. Elbow - 'The Seldom Seen Kid'
2. Laura Marling - 'Alas I Cannot Swim'
3. Tindersticks - 'The Hungry Saw'
4. Joan As Police Woman - 'To Survive'
5. Pete Molinari - 'A Virtual Landslide'
6. Bon Iver - 'For Emma, Forever Ago'
7. Portishead - 'Third'
8. Malcolm Middleton - 'Sleight Of Heart'
9. She & Him - 'Volume 1'
10. Paul Weller - '22 Dreams'
11. Our Broken Garden - 'When Your Blackening Shows'
12. Helios - 'Caesura'
13. James Yorkston - 'When The Haar Rolls In'
14. The Last Shadow Puppets - 'The Age Of Understatement'
15. Jamie Lidell - 'Jim'
16. Fleet Foxes - 'Fleet Foxes'
17. Elvis Costello & The Imposters - 'Momofuku'
18. Calexico - 'Carried To Dust'
19. Glow - 'I, Yeah!'
20. Ladyhawke - 'Ladyhawke'
Honourable mentions to: Beck, Nick Cave, Jenny Lewis, The Dears, R.E.M., Max Richter, and Ray LaMontagne
Even looking at it now, I'm fairly certain I'd shuffle a few of them round, but it's a moment in time and nobody really cares anyway, so that'll do. Feel free to post your own via the comments section, should you be that way inclined.
With thanks to Phill and Phil, hosts of the rather wonderful 'Perfect 10' podcast, for the tip-off.
What an odd week it's been. On Wednesday afternoon, I was sitting in Dublin airport, a sizeable snowstorm visible through every window, sipping what was alleged to be tea and flanked on all sides by the moral outrage of the British press. The TV in hotel had Sky News, so I'd caught moments of the scandal as it unfolded by, even now, I can't quite believe how it was escalated so quickly by the delightful, intelligent and well-rounded individuals who work for the Mail.
If I might just, briefly, focus on the point that I believe to be key to the whole situation. Prior to the papers getting hold of the story, there had been five complaints, and only two had come immediately after the show had aired. Now, it's also worth stating that what Brand and Ross got up to in that particular programme should not have been broadcast. But, I think it says a great deal about what that show must have been like that such content only provoked two complaints from its actual listeners. Thus, the people tuning in for that particular programme were, almost entirely, untroubled by that incident and felt it was in keeping with what Saturday night on Radio 2 offered.
I could spend several days writing about the people who are willing to be engineered into moral outrage by the very people who claim to want to protect our delicate little minds from such filth, but I'll try and keep it brief. If what was said was humiliating for Andrew Sachs' granddaughter, then why on earth did the Mail decide to take something that had only been heard by a little under half a million Radio 2 listeners and reprint it for the benefit of the masses?
That Russell Brand, he's outrageous. The things he says aren't fit for the good people of Britain to hear. Why not read them instead?
It's typical Mail reportage.
So-and-so went to a film premiere last night looking really slutty. Here's a fucking huge picture of her so that you can examine exactly how slutty she looked. Hands on the table at all times, please.
As someone who struggles with the notion that God guides us all through our daily lives, I'm tempted to try and organise 10,000 complaints about Songs Of Praise. I find it offensive to my beliefs and, although I've never seen it, they sing songs about God and bang on about him being a redeemer and stuff. Honest, I read it in the paper. Then again, I could engage my brain for, ooh, maybe five seconds, and realise that this programme isn't for me. That's why I haven't watched it and it's why it hasn't actually offended me. There, that was a really unnecessary crisis averted, wasn't it?
On Thursday night, Newsnight gave over the first thirty minutes of the show to this story. Thirty minutes! Still, it's not like a super-power is about to appoint a new President or anything, is it? Emily Maitlis appeared to want to leave Mark Thompson as close to death as her sense of humanity allowed during her interview and actually bothered to quote a fairly typical Frankie Boyle crack from Mock The Week at him twice, in the hope that he would condemn that and give the hacks something else to find some fake ire over.
I know that this blog is essentially about music, but I get a lot of my musical info and awareness from some of the BBC's outstanding broadcasting. The Beeb means a lot to me and the access I have to it is something I cherish. The thought that this story will lead to an even more timid BBC than we already have, post-phone-in scandal, genuinely troubles me. Not as much as Fox News does, mind you.
I will gather my thoughts in due course, but Tim Shaw does a pretty decent job of summarising how insane the week in media has been.
The first time I heard 'Asleep In The Back', a winter's night towards the end of 2001, I found it almost too dense to get my head around. These beautiful, ethereal tunes, simultaneously complex and yet understated, have since taken up residence as old friends. 'Cast Of Thousands' took even longer to make sense, and it didn't really click until after I'd heard the rather wonderful, 'Leaders Of The Free World'. This latter record contains one of my all time favourite songs; 'Great Expectations'. Musically, it's pretty great, but lyrically is where it gets me. Guy Garvey tells the story of a marriage that happened only in his mind, as he imagined nuptials with a regular passenger on the late bus.
"A call girl with yesterday eyes
Was our witness and priest
Stockport Supporters' Club kindly supplied us a choir
Your vow was your smile
As we moved down the aisle
Of the last bus home."
And then, 'The Seldom Seen Kid' arrived and it all changed. It's another beautiful album and it may well be their best to date - certainly, songs like 'One Day Like This', 'Friend Of Ours' and 'Grounds For Divorce' support that theory - and yet, finally, the great British public have come on board. I talk, as it must have become clear by now, about Elbow.
I had the pleasure of their company at Leeds Academy last night and I'm still smiling. I don't think I've ever heard such clear vocals at a concert before as the sound for Guy's mic last night. The track, 'Leaders Of The Free World' is one of the most gigantic sounding songs I've ever heard live and there wasn't a moment in the whole show where the band were anything other than imperial and, frankly, fucking brilliant. It's right up there in my top five gigs; I only wish I'd gone to see them sooner. They played 'Great Expectations' last night, at which I entered an almost trance-like state and stood their swaying like a ninny, completely lost in that beguiling song. Until, that was, the twerps behind me decided to revive a conversation they'd been having intermittently throughout the gig.
Answer me this. Please. Why the hell would you pay for tickets to a concert only to talk through the gig? I expect a little chat during the support act - that's life. But during the main act? You know, the ones on the fucking tickets you had to give up to get in to this venue? The people you knew you were coming to see and, presumably, at least quite like. Why go to a hot, sweaty building, with a suspiciously sticky floor and speaker stacks that could destroy hospitals to have a conversation about hats and trains? I know this might be coming across as something of an over-reaction, but what goes on between the ears of these gibbering fucknuts? If you don't know many songs, but still decided to buy a ticket, presumably you're expecting to like the songs you've not heard? Thus, perhaps, you'd actually want to hear them?
Having completed a brief assessment of how likely they were to be knife-wielding maniacs, I opted to turn round and frown sternly at them. This caused a cessation of idle chit-chat for a song or two at least, but it's an ever-increasing problem. Towards the end of the gig, as the band were performing some of the afore-mentioned, dense but beautiful material from the debut, an exasperated male voice could be heard yelping, 'Shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up." He made a fair, if not especially eloquent, point.
Anyway, Elbow were utterly fantastic and I cannot recommend them highly enough. I'm sure the people behind me would too, except of course they've no idea if they were any good or not.
***
Had a quick skip through The X Factor this morning. Yeah, I put it on Sky +, so what? Alexandra kicked things off with a terrific, 'I'll Be There'. The one who always starts in Spanish didn't, and then got told off for not doing so, despite being reasonably good, while even Pontins managed a respectable, if utterly unremarkable, stab at 'She's Out Of My Life'. Why Michael Jackson songs, by the way? In what way is he relevant to the modern music scene, that is so frequently a reference point in much of the judges' critical opinion?
Girlband's 'Heal The World' was hilarious. Properly bonkers, that one. The little Irish Lego man was overcome with enjoyment during the performance, suggesting that there is, actually, at least one person who likes that song. Their fate was sealed.
Talking of shit Michael Jackson songs, 'You Are Not Alone' got a reasonable going over by Bo-Selecta, even if the start was a bit mediocre, only to be eclipsed by an opinion-dividing performance from Austin. I was actually quite taken by his version of 'Billie Jean'. Who cares if that version's been done elsewhere? Isn't that essentially the basis for pretty much every performance on The X Factor? It'd be fantastic if each show was filled with new music performed by the wannabes, but it's never going to happen.
David Brent - leave the joke alone, Louis, or I'll tape your hands to your sides - was coma-inducing at his best and completely shit at his worst. Strip his story away and you've got nothing. If it's done on merit, I'd imagine he'll be in the bottom two next week.
JLS brought a West End show feel to 'The Way You Make Me Feel' and made me feel quite queasy. It was very late-eighties, New Kids On The Block-lite, and one of them has a hideously nasal voice that detracts from the half-decent work of the others. Louis' only remaining shot at the title, and thus it's easy to say that the-over-excitable-Girlband-dressing-room-loiterer is screwed.
Diana was, naturally, tremendous. The novelty 'wow' factor from last week had worn off, but it was still a wonderful rendering of 'Man In The Mirror' and her voice remains the most compelling on the show by miles.
Macy Gray was up next. In addition to the tinge of madness displayed last week, there was an undercurrent of menace and desperation added to the mix this week. Perhaps she'd been getting performance tips from Ringo Starr. That said, creative Brian - you know, the one they couldn't fire after he turned out to be a shit judge, so they labelled him the 'creative director' - really did fill the tissue of ego-wanking with the truly bizarre concoction that the mad one was ensconced within.
Little, squidgy E-Owen was up last with, the not-especially shocking song choice, 'Ben'. He was rather good. Nothing more, nothing less.
Girls Aloud popped up for the results show and delivered a reasonably strong performance of their marvellous new single, 'The Promise'. It really is good. I make no apologies.
Girlband and Not-so-Spanish-now contested the bottom two spot and, having gone to 'DEADLOCK', Girlband were told to go away. Quite right really. Not quite as entertaining this week, but then what was I really expecting?
So, the live shows return. I love music. I know that there's every chance that the majority of The X Factor will make me angry, and yet, every year, I return for more. Every so often someone great actually makes it through. It may well have happened this year.
That said, I'm not sure any of the acts are ever good enough to justify watching Louis' simpleton-at-a-Radio-1-roadshow clapping on a regular basis. (By the way, did Simon try to out Louis tonight? Sorry, I digress.) There were some truly awful performances tonight, some mediocre offerings and a couple of decent vocals.
Girlband, who kicked off the show, have a truly shit name. Weirdly, they ended up being the better of the two girl groups that the little Irish nutjob is looking after this time around. It was a solid enough performance but never going to win in a million years. The remarkably different looking Austin followed, with a competent version of The Police's 'Every Breath You Take'. The panel seemed to love it, but I'm not entirely sure why. It was alright. It was safe. It did the job, I guess, but who the hell made the backing track? Was it from one of the karaoke nights we saw him running in his little film before the performance? It was utterly chronic and sufficiently diverting that I ended up quite ambivalent about one of the few I reckoned might be quite good.
Alexandra was very good. There was definitely a risk of a wardrobe malfunction, and Whitney tunes always know how to rub me up the wrong way, but she has a fabulous voice. Cheryl clearly has the best group and appears to be bloody good at mentoring, what with her rather successful song choices. More of which, later.
Daniel followed. As he was singing, I pointed out the similarities between the performance and this:
However, ol' cymbal hands himself made a similar, if less accurate, comment directly afterwards, thus ruining the moment a little. It was very poor. Big heart, big arms, poor performance. If a judge's review begins with words like, "I just want to say that you're such a nice guy..." it's pretty obvious that the vocal wasn't up to it. And it wasn't.
Ricky Gervais' dad ( © Dermot O'Leary) has one chance of winning this year, and it's JLS, whose performance of 'I'll Make Love To You' was 50% quite good. They'll get better, and they're one of the better acts in the twelve. Quite a disappointing start though.
Pontins was up next. I'm not sure what his name was, actually. Might be Scott. Who cares? By the time you read this, I'm fairly certain he'll have been kicked out. At least Simon, who I have to say talks the most sense out of the lot of them, was honest enough to say out loud what everyone else was thinking. He screwed up. Pontins' version of 'Yeh, Yeh' was toe-curlingly bad. I imagine there was more entertaining wakes occurring at the same time as that performance.
Macy Gray was on next. Or at least, that seems to be who Rachel is using as the basis for her stage persona. A not-as-bad-as-the-judges-seemed-to-think version of that song by Robyn was hijacked by some of the most disturbing bumping and, if you will, grinding since the most recent Austrian dungeon clearout. Then, she coined her catchphrase, "taken on board." Take this on board too: stop playing your arse a different song to the rest of the room.
And then, for me, one of the very best performances ever seen on The X Factor. No, really. Diana's version of 'With Or Without You' knocked me for six. It made me think of Emiliana Torrini and Frida Hyvönen. Even once I realised that it was a U2 song she was singing, it didn't automatically summon a Bono-rage. It was magnificent. It was controlled. It was different. And, crucially if you listen to what the judges always bang on about, I'd buy her record. I may be proved wrong by some shocking performances in the future, but I thought she was great. And I'd expected to find her exceptionally annoying. So, that shows what I know.
Although, I do know that Bad Lashes were crap. To paraphrase Boyzone, I didn't get it. It was a mediocre song, it was a mediocre performance and (pulls trousers up to tits) it sounded like a drunken hen night. Apparently their image was good. Not so sure myself.
Little Irish boy who doesn't spell Owen as Owen was next. I really, really don't like 'Imagine', but it was hard to deny that it was good. Good enough, in fact, that BT are currently altering their network to ensure that if you press 1 on the keypad of all mums' phones, it automatically registers a vote for little Owen with an E at the front.
I would imagine that singing the first couple of lines of every song you do in Spanish, before going back to the English language original, would get pretty bloody annoying after a while. Oh wait, it already bloody well has. Ruth - or Rachel, as Simon called her whilst mid-orgasm - makes me angry. It's not even a gimmick, it's just stupid. Sing the bloody song and get off. Decent enough voice, but the novelty act schtick needs to go.
Bo Selecta closed the show and proved she has a much bigger voice than anybody had expected. I was quite surprised at the choice of an Alicia Keys song, but, by the end, I had to admit that it was a very impressive performance. Cheryl must have the winner in her ranks and she certainly outclassed the others on song choices tonight.
One last thing. Dermot makes it a much more enjoyable watch. Kate Thornton was, as she always is, diabolical as the host of The X Factor. She had no personality and very little ability when it came to presenting. Dermot's enthusiasm is contagious and, whisper it, I actually find myself quite enjoying the programme. Anyway, got to go. Time to watch Leon (I know, I know. Who?) before Pontins gets told to bugger off.
EDIT: Pontins got the sympathy vote in the end and it was Louis' girl-group showdown. The right group got binned, although neither 'bonus' song was much cop. Watching the Sarah Harding-lite girl in Bad Lashes go to bits was a little unsettling although Dermot's school master impression, "Now's not the time for petty squabbles," was wonderful.
'Writing To Reach You', 'Selfish Jean', 'Closer', 'More Than Us', 'Driftwood', 'Flowers In The Window', 'Re-Offender' and 'Something Anything'. All of these are wonderful songs by Travis. I know, as a 'serious music fan', I'm not supposed to rate Travis but they're great. Let's get the mudslinging out the way first. '12 Memories' is quite poor and its effect on their sales may never be reversed. However, it's pretty much their sole aberration.
I've got 'The Man Who' on as I type this and it sounds marvellous. The sound is rich and warm and the songs are, at worst, gently charming and, at best, genuinely affecting. Balls to the fact that plenty of bands have tried to do this since, (go on Lightbody, fuck off) it doesn't make these songs any less great. The album was a sneaky success when it came out, gradually gathering momentum until it was virtually compulsory to buy it in order to be allowed to purchase bread and milk for your hungry family. And, like so many others, 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me?', got on my nerves after the billionth play during Glastonbury footage, but I'm even rehabilitated towards that song now.
My return to Travis' bosom came about as a result of hearing their utterly splendid new single, 'Something Anything' for a second time. When I first heard it, I wasn't convinced it. It sounded a little bland and, well, chuggy. The second listen enabled me to hear the wailing backing vocal in the chorus. Now, regular readers will know that the bit in Radiohead's 'Weird Fishes/Arpeggi' when Ed comes in, wailing as a counterpoint to Thom's main vocal is one of my absolute favourite musical moments. This isn't quite up to it, but it is similarly powerful, but in a different way. I don't know why, but it gives the song more heart. There's a real sense that somebody's giving everything to that song and suddenly the chorus comes alive.
Furthermore, it's short and sounds tremendous at unacceptable volume levels. Shit cover, mind. Anyway, the new single led me back to the last one, 'J Smith' which is just bizarre, flicking between shuddering rock and a dramatic choir on the edge. From there, I ended up digging out their last album, 'The Boy With No Name'. The lead single from this, 'Closer', is the sort of track that is as inextricably linked to 'the Travis sound' as 'Imitation Of Life' is to 'the R.E.M. sound', but that doesn't make it bad. The list I started this post with demonstrates that a number of their best songs come from their most recent albums, and how many long-lasting bands can you say that about?
The 'Singles' album went on next. Why do I even own it, when I have the album? Not sure, it must have been cheap. But it's got a new song! I was amazed by how, when almost every song started, I kept thinking, "Oh good, I like this one." I got the new singles collection by The Coral yesterday and I thought that was pretty impressive, but this, while less musically creative, made me smile more.
Obviously, if they've never done anything for you before, then it's unlikely they ever will, but if they've faded away, lost in the middle distance, then give 'em another shot. I can almost guarantee you won't be disappointed.
Can't embed 'Closer', for some reason, but if you go to Travis' Last.fm page, you can listen to it, and many other tunes, in full.
Elbow win the Mercury Prize. Justice is done. If you don't own it, sort yourself out now. It's wonderful.
Wooooooo again!
Still obsessing over the music of Tindersticks so, instead, here's a classic bit of digging from the truly wonderful Jon Stewart and The Daily Show in relation to the Presidential election.
Don't waste your money on the new albums by Bloc Party or The Verve. I've tried to listen to them a few times now, but with no joy. Each time I find myself skipping to the next track to avoid torturing myself. I'm sure some of you reading this will like one or both if you spend long enough with them, but, fuck me, there's better stuff out there to be spending your cash on and filling your time.
I was going to write a long, and quite possibly pretentious, dismissal of these two records, but what's the point? I think they're both a bit shit. I quite liked the single, 'Love Is Noise', but most of the album is six minutes plus drones with fuck all in the way of lyrical quality and utterly inoffensive music. As for Bloc Party, it occasionally piqued my interest but then, just as quickly, pissed me off.
Don't you wish broadsheet reviews were like this?
As the last post was thorough, structured and even vaguely factual, I reckon I can get away with something a little less coherent this time out.
I mentioned Tindersticks the other day. Seriously, how have I not found this band before now? They're just the right amount of...different to be utterly beguiling. It's that kind of quality sentence that will ensure that none of the big names in music publishing ever come calling, but how do you express this kind of music in mere words? I know this sounds like one of my usual attacks, whereby every couple of months I shit out hyperbole until I'm dehydrated, but I oh-so-definitely mean it this time.
If you ignored my call to arms the other day then I now present you with a few more useful resources to help you as you fall in love.
Firstly, last.fm has loads and loads of Tindersticks tracks available to stream in full; thus the love affair costs nothing! Click here and turn the speakers up.
Secondly, Tinder.info has a wealth of great Tindersticks info, interviews and reviews and I've found it invaluable as I've been trying to slot their back catalogue into place. It hasn't been updated for a bit, so it doesn't cover the recent album, 'The Hungry Saw', but pretty much everything else you'll need is there.
That is all.
