And The Winner Is ......

My Awards of the year 2008 Its that time of year when you get sick of adverts for Nick Hancock’s Football Gaffs Galore 17, annoying people ask you to buy raffle tickets for disabled donkeys, and music releases of X Factor cast-offs are sold in TJ’s bargain bin. Yes! … It can only be one time of year … Christmas! So, in the true spirit of Christmas and as inevitable as a 0/10 from the NME for your 2nd album, I thought I’d do a kind of review of the year with regards to what got my boat sailing and what didn’t, in a musical sense of course. So, without the services of Jonathan Ross presenting this prestigious list as he’s too busy shagging Andrew Sachs’ Granddad … the nominees are … Singles: A Punk: Vampire Weekend. American indie, Fun stuff. In This City: Igloo & Hartley. Catchy pop (released at wrong time of year though) The Day That Never Come: Metallica. Metal up your arse!!!!!!!!!! Spiralling: Keane. The pick of the new 80’s rip off tunes. Catchy & clever Grounds for Divorce: Elbow. Brilliant track, but used on the telly far too much. Salute your Solution: Raconteurs. Song of the year without a doubt. Albums: Death Magnetic: Metallica. Metal (back) up your arse!!! Consolers of the Lonely: Raconteurs. Gritty blues The Seldom Seen Kid: Elbow. Emotional stuff, a modern classic Pacific Ocean Blue: Dennis Wilson. A lost gem re-released. Luna: The Aliens. Superb follow up to brilliant debut album Black Ice: AC/DC. Needs no explanation what so ever. Heroes: Jay Z: I’m not a big fan of hip hop, but you’ve gotta admit, that was a barnstorming set at Glasto that took a lot of guts to do. Also anyone who wipes Noel Gallagher’s eye in such a fashion and gets him to shut the hell up for once deserves credit Metallica: £5 entry to their gig at the O2 arena. True heroic antics in such economic times for their loyal fans. Every other greedy musician, promoters & record labels: take note Elbow: winning the mercury award and dedicating it a close mate who died. Good lads who seem to not have their heads inserted up their own arses. Also good on them for sticking to their guns with regards their sound. Great album and well deserved. Villains: Glasvegas: I don’t think I’ve ever heard such dreary rubbish in my entire life. Dull, dull, dull, dull, dull, etc, etc, etc, etc …. Need I go on? Coldplay: I’ll admit I’m a little bit of a fan but, what the hell is it with the outfits? Crimes against fashion? Anyone? And yes, they WERE made by themselves. Mystery Jets: (see above Coldplay comments) Johnnie Borrell – shit band, still a big time arse and he STILL wears white friggin’ jeans!!! Bell end. And by the way, how embarrassing was that video where they were holding the matches? Hahahaha, what a pile of shite!!!!! Disappointment(s) of the year Melodia: The Vines You and Me: The Walkmen Was seriously looking forward to both of the above, but sadly they are pretty dreadful. Off days or downward spiral? Mmm, I can’t decide. Damn shame as they are both superb bands. So, that’s all until after Christmas now. I’m gonna put me feet up and watch Only Fools & Horses. L8zz. Happy New Year everyone, see you in it Mol

It's Not About Ye Vorsprung Durch Tecknic Ye Know?

I tend not to use the word Indie whilst talking about music as I find the term pretty annoying, but for the sake of this blog I shall use it on a temporary basis. Independent music is not just about mop tops, a multi-coloured bead neck less, Johnny Knoxville trainees and baggy semi-flares it’s about being independent from the majors. Putting out what you want and basically having pretty much full artistic control of your music is the basic genetic make up of an Indie label. So, it is only fitting that true Indie Greats Blur have return … to save the day. So, is there any other way? Let’s have a look at the current contenders.

Most people who know me will know about my sheer contempt for shite cock-indie Ponses Razorlight. They claim to be Indie (as well as many other things if you believe Johnny ‘I’m the greatest song writer ever’ Borrell) but, in my opinion, they are nothing short of glammed up, 3 chord tabloid hunters who are so far up their own arses they are nearly kissing their own colons!!! Other acts who claim to carry the Indie Baton are similar funsters Kaiser Chiefs, Snow Patrol, Fratellis & Bloc Party. The Kaisers are just a 10 year extension of Blur in their prime, Fratellis footy-mad indie terrace chanting makes me reach for the aspirin every time I hear them while Bloc Party’s post-punk sounding dross is sadly beginning to wear thin after a pretty promising start. As for Snow (snore) Patrol: I’m not even gonna go there. All of the above lacked the creativeness Blur had by a massive margin.

Apart from the typically well known dodgyness of Country House, many many brilliant tunes have been released from Blur such as Beedlebum, I’m Just a Killer For Your Love, There’s No Other Way & To The End: all pretty wide ranging in music style that were far superior to their then rivals Pulp, The Verve & Oasis who all stuck to their own sounds (in their own special way, of course) The Verve cornered the dreary market to the extent I couldn’t understand a word out of Richard Ashcroft’s mouth apart from the “no no noooo’s”, Pulp championed the people watching of suburban backstreet sexual encounters to the point of voyeurism while Oasis’ entire back catalogue and current efforts continue to regurgitate Beatles references for the one millionth time. By the by, same old, same old. Blur were, in the Radiohead sense of things, (but maybe not so extreme): different, but not different for the sake of being different. Britpop was born!

Albarn & Co have not been living off their royalties since the release of the 2003 Think Tank by any means; Damon Albarn a successful partner in Gorillaz, Alex James living on his farm making his own cheese, Graham Coxan enjoying a pretty successful solo career and Dave Rowntree bizarrely running for parliament has taken up the majority of their time. But, as Bass Player Alex James recently said “I’ve got my old job back” – a return to his old employment certainly brings a smile to my face.

So, what of the future for the pioneers of Britpop? The grand setting of Hyde Park(life) is already confirmed. As well as a massive pay bonus from label: Live Nation. After that, Glastonbury maybe? Then the usually cycle of album &Tour? If so, the choice of venues and size of the tour would be quite interesting to see as they are certainly not in the same mould as other recent reformations such as Take That. Maybe Alexander Palace would be more suited than the O2 to kick off the tour for example. After that the usually dingy settings around Britain & Europe would be just perfect for a band like Blur. The quality of the music though is pretty much guaranteed: good.

So, all hail the great Blur: true Indie champions. Let’s hope that they don’t do a ‘best of tour’ as that would just simply be a sell out. Stick to what you do best chaps as it’s not about your Vorsprung Durch Tecknik ye know? It’s about you joggers that go round, and round, and round, and round …….

Mol

Bubble Life: The Over-Protective World of the Pampered Musician

A few months back the European (even though 8 out of 11 winners were American) MTV awards took place in our great city of Liverpool. At the disposal of the stars in attendance were a wide ranging list of luxury items including water chilled to the specifically requested temperature, blankets for their rat-looking pooches and of course a back stage areas and dressing rooms just about big enough to fit some of their egos in. whilst reading about these diva-like demands I instantly thought of the scene from Wayne’s World 2 when the Mad Brummie Roadie recites his story of having to find the different coloured M&M’s for Ozzy Osborne. A true spinal tap moment if there ever was one. Since I have been listening to music I have always seen musicians as this social outcast outlaw type of figure. Be it Keith Richards writing songs about Heroin, Guns ‘N’ Roses writing about Violence or Iggy Pop writing about Heroin AND Violence. The life style which is associated with these characters has always had the tag of (here’s the cliché) mad, bad and dangerous to know attached to them, but sadly this does not apply to today’s pampered ‘stars’. During my long and pretty much un-successful time in music, even though I and my fellow bands mates never reached the heady heights of the Echo Arena, alls we were offered in terms of accommodation & rider facilities was a dingy dressing room full of stubbed out ciggies, shameless pornographic graffiti about the female singer from Chione, snapped guitar strings, used johnnies, four lukewarm cans of Skol and a bog (if we were lucky). Afterwards if we were given anything close to a half decent round of applause or £20 from the usually scurrilous venue promoter (before he had managed to leave through the side entrance, of course) was greeted with absolute amazement (Apollo, Mart, Ben & Stuart Arnold Ferguson Pritchard = I think you can vouch for that). I’d like to see the face on Mariah Carey if she were lead upstairs in the Zanzibar by Tony Butler and told: “eeeeeer, put ye gear der, luv” During his time, a hero of mine: Bon Scott, immediately after one of his performances with AC/DC used to do one thing and that was go to the bar (and stay there). Now, when I say the bar, I mean the public bar with the rest of the great unwashed who had spent their hard earned cash to watch him perform that night. Scott was a true man of the people, a working class hero that fans could relate to as he was quite simply, one of them. He never employed body guards, had a small dog (WTF!!!), employed image consultants or PA’s and you most certainly never seen him on a episode of the cringe-worthy MTV Cribs showing the people of the world what he’s got stored in his bleeding fridge!!! The occasional outlaws do exist in today’s music in the mould of Pete Doherty & Amy ‘Linden’ Winehouse, but they are few are far between and seriously demonised in the conservative press. The likes of Donny Tourette, the lads from The View & the occasional guy you see hanging out of Kate Moss’ arse could be in the category of ‘phoney outlaws’ who claim to cut the mustard … but, sadly, they don’t even come close to licking the jar. Without mentioning the hilarious incidents involving Noel Gallagher in Canada and Amy ‘Linden’ Winehouse at Glastonbury this year, I feel the ‘them & us’ relationship between performer & crowd has also steadily got bigger in recent years. Partitioning, crowd control, ticket inspecting and over suspicious beefed-up security have made music venues seem like places of imprisonment instead of entertainment. Some performers only have to look at the weather or receive the slightest bit of stick from a member of the crowd these days and it’s a case of “I’m not going out there, they’re insulting my artistic integrity, the buffoons”. Compare these actions to many years ago during the birth of punk, when the likes of Joe Strummer & Sid Vicious were pelted with bottles during their performances when they used to jump up in the air and head them back and then continue to play. It took a lot more than a broken nail or tepid water to get them to stop playing and throw a hissy fit! Of course that would never happen these days with the introduction of plastic pint glasses (which, by the way, quell any applause the crowd wish to give if you’ve noticed?) I remember meeting Tim De Laughter from The Polyphonic Spree once at one of their concerts and it has to be said he was a really decent chap, but there’s always the chance that ‘hero worship’ can come back and bite you on the balls. Whilst watching the local news a few weeks back they sent an intrepid reporter out in the freezing cold to interview some people who had been queuing up outside the afore mention Echo Arena who had been there for hours in a vein attempt to catch a mere sight of Pink walking into a nearby hotel. Maybe these fans are shallow, maybe they have something missing from their lives or maybe they are completely mentally instable!! I personally think the latter applies in this instance. But I also think if you compare Pink to the pop stars of old and it were 1976 and you were an AC/DC fan waiting outside to get the autograph of Bon Scott, you wouldn’t have long to wait long as he’d probably take you on an all-day bender and STAY there with you until you fell over until you could drink no more!! So, Ms Pink, in the highly unlikely event that you are actually reading this superbly written Blog (ahem), what would YOU do if I were to ‘start a fight’ with you? Would you live up to your falsely embarrassing lyrics and put your dukes up in a Queensberry rules style so we could 'get it on'? Or would you just leg it to your dressing room in your 5 star luxury hotel and set your bodyguards onto me? I suspect the latter myself One thing is for sure though: no matter what taste you have in music and no matter who is hanging from your bedroom wall (on posters), people, of all walks of life, especially those who have their limo doors opened and have their arses wiped for them should NOT be worshipped! This is just adding to their egos and increasing the size of their already over-inflated bubbles that they continually use to keep their fans at arms length and swelling the ‘them & us’ myth. Autograph hunters, doting fans and other genuine celebrity stalkers be warned = your heroes do have tendencies to be arseholes who live in bubbles … made out of glitter, diamonds and other expensive gems, of course. Mol

Death Factor: The Un-Easy Marriage of TV & Music

It seems everyone writes a Blog these days so I thought I’d join in an write about something I genuinely care about = music Now, I know it’s an easy target for the critics these days, but X-Factor really does have the most profound & negative effect on British (and in some instances global) music. So, without sounding like judge, jury & executioner, I have decided it does have a lot to answer for … Many years ago when I decided to choose the guitar as the instrument to play as it was always the epitome of cool. I was inspired to play (albeit in a pretty naff fashion as many of you can vouch for) the guitar due to the likes of Jimmy Page, Izzy Stradlin, Keith Richards & Mick Taylor = all worthy icons of instant hero status from an amazing age of music that will sadly never be repeated no doubt. It was real music played by real, honest people who took time in what they created and played. But, those days are truly over and the burial march of true, proper music has begun in the shape of the X Factor Since the creation of X Factor by serial tight kex wearer Simon (2 eggs in a hanky) Cowell the show has turned into a global phenomenon that has changed the relationship of music & television to a new level … for the worse! I won’t give you a history lesson as that’s not why I’m here, but TV & music has been around for many many years since the early days of Opportunity Knocks to the revolution that was MTV. But, since the arrival of X Factor a few years back they have re-written the rules of marriage between TV and music and in the process made it obviously clear to an entire nation that Warhol’s famous quote is alive and (maybe not) well and proves that ANYONE really can get on telly if they have talent or not. Apart from the cringe-worthy attempts by the wanna-be’s who sell their soul (and maybe even their own mothers) who queue for hours outside various studios up and down Britain, the show is made even worse by the pathetic, attention seeking ‘judges’ who bay for blood all in the name of light entertainment. If it isn’t Louis Walsh’s ridiculously continuing (staged) running spat with the afore mentioned Cowell, it is the over-emotional Cheryl Cole trying her best to pull on the heart strings of the nation with her crocodile tears and constant false reminders that she “luvs” every singer who takes to the stage. Lengthy careers beckon for all I suspect.

This may sound slightly controversial here, but I also think as well as musically, X Factor has a cultural impact on the people of Britain. Without sounding like some old fart that bursts kid’s footies with a knife, the rise of X Factor goes hand in hand with the ‘we-want-everything-now’ culture of the youth of today. It wasn’t too long ago that many children and young adults yearned to be in a band playing an instrument (drummers excluded, of course) that would eventually lead to a musical career of substance and a worthy placed amongst their peers that included the admirable likes of Stradlin Taylor, Page & Richards. It seems this has now been replaced by the pursuit of the extremely detestable ‘instant fame’ which is available to all be it if they are in possession of talent or not (just look at Daniel Evans for an example) after that, it’s Butlin’s all the way for the usually jaaag X Factor Tour. Success? I don’t think so It only seems fitting to end this debut Blog with a quote from a band of real talent & substance. I read an interview a few months back with the brilliant Elbow just after they had picked up the very well deserved Mercury award. Their enigmatic singer Guy Garvey made a rather fitting comment about X Factor: “for fucks sake, don’t these people who laugh at these poor fuckers realise that they are someone’s son or daughter?” After reading Garvey’s quote it made me think about the desperate attempts some people will go to in the short quest for ‘Instant Fame’. Self humiliation, embarrassment, desperation and damn right lack of self respect are obviously not part of their remit. The final nail may not yet be in the coffin of British music due to the much celebrated remaining troubadours like Elbow who are continually driven underground that still fly the flag of decency & taste. But, I hate to sound like a Daily Mail headline writer here, the threat still remains and the masses are gathering. So, go and blow the cob webs off that old Telecaster you’ve got in the loft as the battle lines are drawn