Courtney Barnett - Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit

Personally, 2015 so far has been a bit of a sh*tter.
Musically, there has been plenty of fine sounds attacking my lugholes.

And this release is another to add to the "(Potential) Year End Top 10"*

* or whatever number I happen to think of

The debut album release from Australian Singer/Songwriter is a bright sound punctured with humourous, deadpan lyrics, bolted to a folk-ish, indie sound.  The music veers into Garage-Punk, and stabs of The Doors and The Stranglers along the way.  Her voice is reminiscent of Sheryl Crow, and the final track, the plaintive "Boxing Day Blues" featuring just an acoustic guitar and voices, evokes Suzanne Vega.  So, that's pretty much all bases covered then?

There is wit and humour in the lyrics and all delivered in an open narrative, often deadpan, style.  The choice of words and the detail used provide vivid imagery of the storyline of the songs, and there is often a turn of phrase which grabs attention.  Considering the lyrical construction as a whole, when she sings "I'm thinking of you too" in "An Illustration of Loneliness (Sleepless in New York)", you can't help but wonder is she actually singing "I'm Thinking of U2"?

Recorded in a two week period, where the songs were presented to the band only when they were finished, there is a freshness about the songs and the performances.
There are a variety of styles over the 11 tracks - indeed, if one track's style setting is not to your taste hang on, there will be something different along in a minute.

"Elevator Operator" has a touch of early Sheryl Crow, "Pedestrian at Best" is a fuzzed Garage Punk.  There is Indie Rock balladry on "An Illustration of Loneliness (Sleepless in New York)", and a full on near 7 minutes Blues Jam on "Small Poppies".

Thats 5 tracks and 5 different styles already.

And it don't stop there. From the naval gazing mundanity of "Depreston" to more Psych/Garage on "Aqua Profunda!".
The track "Dead Fox" has been doing the rounds of 6Music for a couple of weeks, and I find it difficult to get bored of it.  Bright, shiny, jangly pop - just right for the beginnings of Summer at the moment.  More indie/Garage on "Nobody Really Cares If You Don't Go to the Party", and a sort of Blondie/Stooges mash-up on "Debbie Downer".
"Kim's Caravan" comes along and seems out of place somehow - it is dark, almost haunting and bleak.  But it is an epic song and sequencing towards the end is the right place.

The album closes on the sparse (vocal and acoustic guitar) "Boxing Day Blues".

Debbie Downer

Dead Fox

Homogeneous Car Design

Car design has always been unique to manufacturers.
A particular manufacturer could be spotted a mile off by virtue of its particular character and style.
With one glance, you would never cofuse a Jaguar XJ12 ans a Skoda Rapide.

And then in the 1990s, car companies started joint-venture operations and the use common parts.  There were some minor stuling differences, and obviously the badge, but in essence it was the same panels, bolted together by the same robots, often in the same factories.

One of the first I noticed was the Ford Galaxy / Seat Alhambra / Volkswagen Sharan

The sharing of component parts and technologies is fairly commonplace.  But is usually limited to the bits you can't see.  Just about every small/medium sized Fiat is built on the Panda chassis and running gear.
In latter years, SAABs were basically Vauxhall Vectras with a different body.  And the Jagur X-Type and S-Types were built on a Mondeo chassis and running gear, with the bodywork and interior breathed on by Jaguar.

At a Motor Show in the late 80s, I was surprised when looking around an Aston Martin that the interior switches, indicator stalks and even the gear knob were straight out of a Vauxhall Cavalier.

When the Fiesta (and all other Ford Vehicles) were re-styled a couple of years ago, there was a noticeable similarity in the front-end to and Aston Martin DB9.

But, having recently changed cars to a Vauxhall Insignia, I am noticing more and more similarities between the front ends of a wide range of vehicles.
There seems to be a universal approach to the design of the front end of similar sized cars.  Indeed, at first glance, it is often only the badge that gives a clue as to what manufacturer it actually is.




And it's not just the front - the back (give or take a bit of chrome strip) and the profile view (particularly on Estate variants) follows the same formula.

Maybe the Design Studio is in Stepford?

(Here endeth the Rigid Digit Text Audition to be the next presenter of Top Gear)

Cathal Smyth - A Comfortable Man

In  a past life, Cathal Smyth traded under the name Chas Smash, and was perhaps the nuttiest of the Nutty Boys (except maybe Lee Thompson?).  He was also the author, or co-author of some of the most exuberant moments of the bands releases, as well as some of the darker tinged moments.

The first obvious statement to make about the album is if you come to it expecting a 21st Century Nutty Boy shouting "Hey You! - don't watch that. watch this..." and prancing round the stage, then you're in for disappointment.
This album as a collection of stories from a man who has been through the mill, come out the other side, and is willing to share his experiences.
The past is represented by the involvement of Alan Winstanley, and particularly Track 2 "Shabat She Comes" which is perhaps the closest to later period Madness of all the songs here.

The songs on this album have been gestating and developing since 2005 (the time of Cathals marriage breakup, and followed by a life of hedomism, Ibizia, booze and stimulants).
This period led to a clearance of the mind (via a hallucinogenic experience with a Peruvian shamen, and the practice of transcendental meditation).
The album is plaintive, mellow, raw and introspective and personal.  No doubt there is a healthy dollop of catharsis mixed in too.
Opening with the eerie, almost funereal sound of a simple piano, and then Smyths cracked voice appears almost pleading.
The production is never "busy" with minimalistic  instrumentation and arrangement throughout even with strings and choirs layed over some of the tracks.
The lyrics are raw and tinged with sadness, yet delivered in a conversational style.  There’s a darkness and melancholy, yet a certain affirmation and redemption too - the term “bitter sweet” is probably too simple a catch-all term.

It is an album that should be properly listened to, ideally in one sitting, probably accompanied by a beer or two and a few moments of personal reflection.
There’s a darkness and melancholy, rawness and sadness, yet a certain affirmation too (dare I say “bitter sweet”?).

In short, it is a truly great album, and (I feel) an incredibly brave undertaking, knowing Chas Smash of the past - the man is now grown up, grown wiser, comfortable with himself, and willing to share his experiences.  It is difficult to say “enjoying it” because I’m not sure that is what you do?

You're Not Alone

Goodbye Jaguar

Exactly 3 years ago (I know this, because I've just made the last Finance Payment), I had the opportunity to ease myself into the drivers seat of an X-Type Jaguar.  My previous car had been effectively written-off - whilst still running fine, it was showing it's age and bits were starting to drop off, and the trim looking decidedly grimy and knackered.
Looking around for a new car, this vehicle was found on offer at the right price, right age and with Interest Free Finance.  Only drawback was it was in Hull - a bit of a trek, but I'd never been to Hull before.  The drive there was uneventful, if hard work due to the faceless, flatness of Norfolk, and the boredom that is the M1 and M62.  But the drive back would be in a Jag.

Jaguar, Jaguar, Jaguar - the one car that I always wanted to own, and here I was about to sit behind the wheel and lord it over other road users.

Apart from it being in Hull, there were two other considerations:

1. It was an X-Type, which is effectively a Ford Mondeo with a body kit, and
2. It was a Diesel - previous experience of Diesel was not great.  One car suffered a permanent oil leak seemingly from nowhere, and the other died completely with no warning, and never re-started

Mondeo-Schmondeo, Diesel-Schmiesel - this is a Jaaag, let me at it.

And yes, the drive home was a thing of relative joy, comfort and refinement.

I now owned a car with the badge I'd long coveted - what could go wrong now?

Well all was fine for a couple of months, and then I suffered two punctures in a fortnight (the first was due to driving over a bolt which became embedded in the tyre, the second due to a cracked Alloy Wheel which a local trader managed to get fixed up.

Then about a month later, the Turbo pipe split leading to a lack of power and a big white plume of exhaust under acceleration, and the EGR valve became stuck open causing a mis-fire at anything over 2000rpm.

A mere inconvenience - the car is 7 years old after all, and these sort of mechanical issues are to be expected.  A short visit to a local garage fixed the problem, and I was back owning the road.
So, that was that sorted and for the next 6 months or so, nothing disrupted the sheer driving pleasure (even taking into account the Diesel engine).
And the it happened - my  near side wheel found a deeper than average pothole, and changed shape from its usual 100% round to a sort of wobbly oval.
Fortunately it was only one wheel, so I was able to replace with the spare wheel and continue on my way.  Except the Spare Wheel was a skinny space saver, good for 80mph, but absolute;y rubbish at retaining ride comfort and cornering ability.
A visit to a local Wheel outlet was arranged, where I was informed that those particular wheels are not easy to get hold of, and aren't manufactured new anymore.
Bugger!  More expense, but it has been 6 months and the Tyres would need replacing soon anyway.
OK, four new wheels and a set of boots for each corner - and it was a worthwhile purchase, because the new wheels were markedly better looking than the originals.

The vehicle ahd already had one MoT in my ownership, and it passed with flying colours (no reported issues, no advisory statements. no "just keep an eye on that").  So why would the second MoT be any different?  It now had new wheels and tyres and had been running trouble free for nigh on 12 months.

Oh how wrong was I - "Rear Suspension bushes are excessively worn, they'll need replacing".  My immediate response was: "At least its not the front ones as well".
"Funny you should say that" was the reply.

Result: more open wallet surgery

Leastways, I now had (relatively) new wheels and tyres, no mechanical issues, and the whole thing felt tight, strong and responsive,  There can surely be no more issues on the horizon.

Tyres are renowned for wearing out, it is after all what they do - and a proper set should always be there (sensibly boring and safety obvious, but it has to be said - from experience, having nearly killed myself several years ago driving round on virtual slick tyres, I can't emphasis the importance enough).
I knew I needed two, so went down to the Tyre Fitters and bought two "name brand" tyres.  It was during the fitting, that the state of the inner walls of the other two tyres were highlighted - so they would need replacing to.

Any more, for any more?  Oh Yes!

In Autumn last year, om a cold dank wet night, the key fob decides to give up the ghost.  This is not just a battery issue, oh no, the whole fob has decided for reasons best known to itself to lose all programming and signalling capability.  Yes, I can open the car, but I can't get in the boot.
And the only place that repair these things is the Main Dealer.  On the plus side, I wasn't fleeced, and got a full valet out of the deal too.  An unwanted expense, but with a positive result, as I managed to secure a full service and MoT for less than I ever thought possible from a Main Dealer.

In retrospect, I think the Main Dealer Service was the most expensive Car Wash I've ever had.  When the vehicle was returned, it just didn't "feel" right.  Starting from cold became an issue, and the acceleration seemed stunted and the gearchange far "notchier" than I remember.
Driving to work one morning, I put my foot down and the dashboard lit up like a Christmas Tree.  Just about every Warning light was illuminated.  In true IT style, turning it off and on again seemed to cure the fault, but it re-occurred a week or so later.

I took it to a Specialist Garage (having first approached the Main Dealer to be told "This has nothing to do with us"), and failed Injection system diagnosed.
Yet more expense, but I was running again.  The car felt strong, and pulled like a train.
And then, reversing into my driveway one day, I noticed a trail of water on the road.  I've seen this before and it is usually a result of condensation from the Air Conditioning system.  Driving to work next morning, there was no heat coming from the Air Conditioning.  On further investigation the Header Tank for the Radiator/Cooling System was empty.  I refilled it, but when I checked it again later that day it was empty again.

Oh dear, this ain't looking good.

This time, the diagnosis was far more severe - the Head Gasket has blown and all the water is being sucked into the engine and ejected through the Turbo (odd, because I have seen no white smoke, or water in the oil, which are the usual tell-tale signs).

The blown Head Gasket is the Death Knell - I have read it it's Final Rites, and will be disposing of it somehow (Spares and Repairs at a fraction of the prospective re-sale price probably).

I admit to have a tear in my eye when final sentencing was pronounced.

Fortunately, as it is now paid for, the saving that would of been had from the Jaguar Finance is now being diverted to the purchase of a new car.  So now it is a case of:

Goodbye Jag - Hello Vauxhall!

3 years of (sort of) trouble-free, comfortable motoring has now gone (it was running more than breaking down, honest!).
The Car of my Dreams fairly rapidly became a nightmare.  But, in a couple of years time, if I was offered the chance of another Jaguar, despite the experiences outlined above, then I would jump at the chance.

Adam And The Ants - Car Trouble

The Thrill Of The Hunt

OK, we live in world of multiple-connections, and everything is available at your fingertips with just the aid of a few mouse-clicks.
On the one hand, this is brilliant, because anything we need to know, want to hear or see, or fill gaps in our knowledge is all stored in a massive database called the Interweb.

But the grumpy old git inside me says: do we no longer need to learn and retain knowledge, when we can just Google it?
And what of the basic "Hunter Gatherer" instincts?  Do we still retain the urge to hunt down records, films and books that are not easily findable on the high street?

This affliction started many years ago, when you would try and out-do your friends by finding more interesting stuff than they had.  For example, they may have procured an a copy of Iron Maiden's "Sanctuary" in an uncensored picture sleeve, but did they have a Greek version of "Flight Of Icarus"? There is no distinct difference between the UK and Greek versions, but it is just a case of smug one-upmanship.  And so the hunt continues ...

To increase your chances of finding the "best" stuff, it was necessary to make pilgrimages to London, spend hours stuck on trains or stuck in traffic trying to find Record Fair venues, or spend Sunday mornings at Jumble Sales and Car Boot Sales - all in the hope if finding something that no-one else has got.  Or even better, were un-aware of its existence, or had never even heard of.
When you did get something new and interesting, whether it be record, film, book of video of "unseen" footage from foreign TV, the shout would go out and all would gather round for the unveiling and congratulations.  Copies may be produced, and a "Conditions Of Borrowing" contract drawn up.
And this competition as not just limited to music - films, videos of old TV shows, books, even Football Programmes were sought out, displayed proudly and generally coveted by on-lookers.
I once bought a pile of old 8-Track Cartridges, purely on the basis that "no-one else has got these!"
(Interestingly, a similar set of rules applied to videos and books of distinct "Gentlemans Interest" often found under hedges in the local park).

Visits to Record Fairs and Jumble Sales also taught the art of haggling.  You're obviously not going to get a first pressing of The Beach Boys 'Pet Sounds' for £1, but you may baulk at the £40 price-tag and offer the seller a lower, but still sensible, price.  Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose - but it's all part of the game.
There are of course other times, when you will pay the marked price because (a) it is an absolute bargain and the seller obviously doesn't know what they are doing, or (b) you any never see another copy, so will gladly handover a weeks housekeeping money to ensure you own it.

This was a time when you were judged by your ability to hunt down and procure the interesting and (seemingly) unattainable.
In the early 80s, a friend of mine had a complete set of Monty Python Videos (not recorded off the telly, the proper, pukka ones only available in Video Rental Shops) - he was like some sort of God in our eyes.
Another friend had the first pressing of The Beatles 'Please Please Me' album - highly desirable, but it was not Monty Python was it?
I played my part in this "willy waving" contest by owning a copy of Johns Children "Desdemona" single (bought for £20 in 1988).
Another friend claimed to have a copy of "God Save The Queen" on A&M, but no-one ever saw it, and he was a lying git anyway.
Any new town or city I visit, I retain the ability to sniff out local record shops and/or second hand shops where I try to find collection fillers, and often stuff I never knew I wanted.
There is little to compare to the thrill of stumbling across a long sought after album or single, or interesting, yet possibly unnecessary, memorabilia.

But now, it's all too easy.
I can be taking care of my morning ablutions whilst browsing eBay looking for more copies of Stiff Little Fingers "Suspect Device" (I already have 4 different versions/variants), or driving to work and listening to something on the radio, and by the time I have logged on to the work computer have just bought the new stuff from Amazon.
No more the need to write it down and/or remember, no more the need to plan a weekend away to coincide with a Record Fair (I still do, of course), no more trawling second-hand shops in the vain hope of finding a gem.
Well, none of the above is actually true - both worlds co-exist quite happily, I'd just rather live in the former world where it is more of a challenge and hence more of an achievement when The Undertones "Teenage Kicks" EP (on Good Vibrations) is found and filed away on your shelf.

An just a couple of curmudgeonly observations to finish:
* A quick note to sellers on EBay (et al):  Most people ain't daft and can spot a re-press/re-issue or dodgy copy a mile off.  Don't go sticking stupid price tags on what is essentially cheap crap
* Charity Shops/Jumble Sales (and EBayers again) - just because it is on vinyl and released more than 10 years ago does not immediately mean it is valuable.  £30 for 'War Of The Worlds' or 'Now Thats What I Call Music 7' just means you will be left with a pile of unsold records.
A Charity Shop I used to frequent had a fairly blanket pricing policy of 50p to £1 for singles, and £3 to £8 (£12 if a double) for albums.  And then someone either looked on EBay or bought a copy of Record Collector ...
* There is no such thing in the world as "having too many records"

Happy Hunting!

Noel Gallaghers High Flying Birds - Chasing Yesterday

The two biggest facets that Oasis had in their locker were Liam Gallagher's wild man of rock frontman schtick, and Noel Gallaghers songwriting ability.
Beady Eye provided an outlet for Liam's frontamn persona, and the first High Flying Birds album housed Noel's latest batch of songs.
Of the two, Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds produced the better album, containing a clutch of songs that developed, and in many ways enhanced and possibly eclipsed, the latter days of Oasis.

And so to the second album.

• Will it continue to show growth in Noel's songwriting.
• Will the influence of the planned (but now indefinitely shelved) collaboration with Amorphous Androgynous have a bearing on the song construct and overall sound
• Will the songs contain elements of the promised "stretch" and use of unexpected instrumentation

The answer to all the above is "not really" (well, "no" if I'm being blunt).

What you get is 10 tracks (14 on the Deluxe Edition) of the tried and trusted, with the odd musical diversion.  What it is a second collection of songs that are written for Noel Gallagher's voice and are very familiar and reminiscent of the "partially solo" stuff released on Oasis records.

NOTE: This is not a bad thing

The familiarity (and the plagiaristic tendencies) are there right from the start with "Riverman" (which is not (perhaps unsurprisingly) a cover of the Nick Drake track).
Commencing with another approximation of the "Wonderwall" riff, before continuing in an almost melancholic tone, this track sets the scene for the record.  Despite the inclusion of some nice greasy Pink Floyd-esque saxophone, the familiarity is most welcome, and keeps you wanting more (possibly in the hope something new/unexpected comes along).

The same tone of comfort continues through "In The Heat Of The Moment" and "The Girl With The X-Ray Eyes".
"Lock All The Doors" bounds in like a proper rocker from the Oasis debut.  "Dying Of The Light" returns to the melancholic delivery, complete with a continuous stream of rhyming couplets that you can see coming a mile off (but this is what we expect from NG, so this is not a criticism).
"The Right Stuff" offers a welcome diversion in sound and pace - almost droning, Eastern in intent.  Its very laid back and jazzy.  It is a track rescued from the Amorphous Androgynous collaboration.  Its a great track, with a great feel.  For me though, this one track is enough - I'm not sure I want a whole albums worth of this (each to their own I suppose, but not for me).
"While The Song Remains The Same" offers a quasi-religious opening, and just rolls along without ever really engaging or changing gear, but you come away from it knowing you've just heard something good.  Always restrained, it feels like its being held back - which may be for the best as it would to too obvious (and too messy) if it were to explode in a cacophony of thumping drum, bass and guitar soloing.  Probably not single-fodder, but would sit nicely in a Live set - maybe with lighters in the air.

"The Mexican" is a melting-pot of Led Zeppelin riffage, cowbell, synth noodling - theres an almost psychedelic-funk thing going on here.
"You Know We Can't Go Back" opens on a Pink Floyd sounding shrill arpeggio, before banging into a relentless plodding rocker that really was/is what Noel (and his previous band) did best. 

The narrative of the song "While The Song Remains The Same" re-visits his past in Manchester (a theme seemingly apparent in other tracks to (whether by design, or not, who knows?).  On album closer, "The Ballad Of The Might I" re-visits a time a lot closer with a vague re-tread of "AKA ... What A Life" from the debut High Flying Birds album.  What sets this offering apart is the inclusion of Johnny Marrs guitar solo, before closing the album with a flourish of synth noise.

There are moments when you feel Noel Gallagher is breaking free from the standard template, employing new sounds, instrumentation and song construction - but you get the feeling he never wants to stray too far.
On the whole, this album is a consummate piece of work, featuring some great and not so great songs.  They are strung together in a way that shows that it was conceived and delivered as a whole, rather than a series of recordings thrown together and sequenced for best effect.

This second album is not as immediate as the first - there is nothing on here that makes you want to reach for the 'Skip' button, but by the same token you are not inclined to press the 'Replay' button either.
I wouldn't say I'm cock-a hoop about the album, but remain mildly satisfied - I don't think it will be consigned to the "I forgot I bought that" pile, but may not be making as many visits to the CD Player as its predecessor.

"You Know We Can't Go Back"


A title which leads neatly to (and probably answers) the ever-present question, especially in this the 20th anniversary year of "(What's The Story) Morning Glory?" - will there ever be an Oasis re-union?

Public Service Broadcasting - The Race For Space

On 21 July 1969, Neil Armstrong first set foot on the moon (or not if you go along with the conspiracy theories).
12 months to the day later, I popped into this world.

As a result of this chronological quirk, there may be a chance that I have an in-depth knowledge and appreciation of all things space-y, astronaut-y and SciFi like.
Not a bit of it - I can appreciate the scientific and engineering advances, but I prefer SciFi when it is debunked via Airplane II, Spaceballs or Red Dwarf, or similar.

But this in no way reduced my anticipation for the new Public Service Broadcasting.
Previous release 'Inform - Educate - Entertain' took old Public Service Broadcasting Films and provided them with a soundtrack.  The juxtaposition of the BBC English, plummy-voiced Announcer fighting for air-space with guitar, drums and electronic beats worked so well, the apparent strangeness of the concept was gone.

The "difficult" second album continues this conceit, and uses voice tracks recorded in the 50s/60s documenting the competition between the super-powers to get a man on the moon.

On first listen, it didn't immediately "grab" me the way 'Inform - Educate - Entertain' did, but further listening reveals more depth and cohesion than the previous release (I just needed to re-calibrate my expectations).


Opening with a John F Kennedy speech of intent to go to the moon over a haunting choir, second track "Sputnick" starts up as the applause fades.  From a relatively desolate beat, the track starts slow and moody, gradually building with more sounds and atmospheres, before tailing away and launching into "Gagarin" - a throbbing funk track built around an insistent guitar riff and horn work-out.
The whole mood is brought down a notch with "Fire In The Cockpit", where you can almost feel the claustophobia and helplessness of the situation it describes.

The next track for me was the pivotal moment of the album - "EVA" opens like a collision between a Pink Floyd riff and Television for Schools and Colleges, and continues in that vein at moments sounding like TV and Film "production" music.
This is the track documents the first Space Walk, and for me encapsulates the point of the story - a statement of achievement  Built around a Tubular Bells-like base, the track bounds along, and then slowly fades, before the monotonous, almost Krautrock, opening to "The Other Side".
"Valentina" retains the musical template, and adds actual vocals, courtesy of The Smoke Fairies (albiet in the form of a choir-infused atmospheric chant).

"Go" is probably the most immediate track on the album - this track marks the actual moment of the moon landing, and includes possibly one of the most famous human utterances "The Eagle Has Landed".  This therefore should represent the conclusion of the story.

Or it would do, but ... the final track "Tomorrow" is a slow, almost melancholic account (complete with glockenspiel) which recounts the final Apollo mission of 1972.  It may mark the end of an era, but retains the suggestion that if mankind has done it once, why not do it again.
All goes quiet for about a minute and a half, and then a rousing tone begins to rise offering a rousing, almost triumphant, conclusion to the album (although many may nor get to hear this and switch the album off at the 4:00 minute mark when "Tomorrow" seemingly ends.)


The conceit of the band remains the same - to apply a contemporary soundtrack to archive voice tracks.
Both the predecessor and this album follow this pattern.  However, the tracks on 'Inform - Educate - Entertain' could be considered as stand-alone entities strung together by the idea, this album is a true concept album built around the narrative of the title.
As a result, it makes for a stronger, more complete work.

Although, I do fear for the future - there are only so many archive recordings that could lend themselves to the PSB treatment.  There may be a danger of either repeating themselves, or not finding a truly emotive, or resonant, subject to base future releases upon.

Where next?

• A celebration of 1970s TV Adverts (including a trip-hop remix of the Shake n Vac advert)?
• Match Of The Day Commentary tracks from John Motson over a three-chord punk rock thrash?
• The speeches of Margaret Thatcher set to a Brian Eno inspired ambient soundscape?

Whatever they do next, I'm sure it will be as eagerly awaited, and as well received as both full albums released to date.




Public Service Broadcasting - E.V.A.