No (or, Old man shouts at cloud)

I saw the BBC News headline:

"Why playing your phone out loud in public might become the new normal"

And I read the story. To which the only reasonable response is:

I was discussing this with The Man Of Cheese last week. It will come as no surprise to anyone to learn that The Intolerance Twins both preferred a time when phones were for personal communication rather than public broadcast.

I was also reminded of a quote from Alan Bennett, given in interview in 2015:

"There has been so little that has happened to England since the 1980s that I have been happy about or felt able to endorse. One has only had to stand still to become a radical."

I also see myself in this.

Latitude's Byrne's Night

I wasn't going to go to Latitude this year. The line-up left me ... whelmed. The growth in size, the increased focus on music to the detriment of other arts, and the unavoidable commercialisation in recent years were also reasons not to go. I figured I wouldn't enjoy myself, so why bother? Except then Amusements Minor and two of his mates picked up tickets at the last minute. They were quite chuffed with themselves, until they then looked into the cost of getting there on the Latitude return bus service. Turned out it would be cheaper for me to buy a festival ticket and drive them there, so that's what I did. It was only for a day, the Friday, and that's what swung it for me, as the headliner was the only one of the festival that I had an interest in seeing.

Anyway, in the manner of my festival diaries of yore, here's what I saw...

Friday:

• 
  The Adam Buxton Band : Second Stage. I made sure to have negotiated the traffic and the hike from the car park in time, and to have impressed upon the boys our agreed rendezvous point and time for the end of day, in good time so that I could be under the vast canopy of the Second Stage to see Adam Buxton run through tracks from his album. There was a healthy audience of mainly podcast devotees, so he was preaching to the converted, I guess, but everyone went away happy. The songs are genuinely catchy, with lyrics treading the highwire between comedy and pathos. I ate my lunch in there too, enjoying the shade. And I'll get the apology out of the way early, and say sorry that the photographic abilities of my current phone are so abysmal. Brace yourself for a succession of washed-out, blurry rubbish.
• Robert Llewellyn in conversation : The Apollo Stage. It's a fair old trek from the Second Stage to Apollo, but it was worth it to hear Llewellyn in conversation with Robin Ince and Professor Helen Czerski. The Apollo line-up had a vageuly tech focus, so although there were plenty of reminiscences about Red Dwarf and Scrapheap Challenge, there was also some very interesting discussion about electric vehicles, and the changes that have to happen to how we live our lives. Gave me real and unexpected pause for thought.
• Natalie Wildgoose : The Alcove. A change of pace next, at one of the smaller music stages. Natalie self-describes as a folk eccentric, and the festival programme had likened her vocals to Joan Baez. I was intrigued. Dressed like Laura Ingalls on her way to church, Natalie played piano, and was ably supported by an acoustic guitarist and a backing vocalist. I can see the Baez comparison, but Natalie has her own sound. A shame, then, that it was somewhat drowned out by the sonic thump of a neighbouring stage. This was a problem that would beset The Alcove all day, unfortunately.
• Ellie O'Neill : The Sunrise Arena. I only caught the tail-end of Ellie's set, but immediately wished I had got there earlier. She plays the guitar well, creating a kind of acoustic drone that suited the shady setting well. Her vocals have a aching Irish lilt, and the few lyrics I heard had some heft. I wouldn't absolutely guarantee it but I think O'Neill may be worthy of further investigation.
• 
  Adult DVD : The Sunrise Arena. Come on, lads, think of a band name that can be Googled safely! Adult DVD are a six-piece from Leeds who make a very agreeable, energetic racket, with guitar, bass, drums, synths and samples. Even their soundcheck got a good cheer. Only possible fly in the ointment might be the slightly Marmite vocal style of frontman Harry Hanson, which is somewhere between Shaun Ryder, Mark E. Smith and Damon Albarn. Still, those three all did alright, so what do I know? Whatever, this lot provided quite a contrast to the preceding act, and certainly got the Sunrise Arena crowd bouncing.
• Courttia Newland : The Listening Post. Cup of tea in hand, I arrived early enough for the next act to catch the tail-end of novelist and playwright Newland in conversation in what used to be called the Book Tent. There was some interesting Q&A that focused on how the loss of public space and public services might impact on the artistic output of those that might otherwise struggle. But - full disclosure - I was mainly here to get a good spot for the next act, which was...
• Adam Buxton's BUG: David Byrne Special, featuring Ivo Graham : The Listening Post. If you're familiar with Buxton's BUG shows, you know the deal - he plays clips of the featured artist, talks about their background, gives insight into the creation and production of the music... it's basically a love-in by, and for, fans. Here he was joined by David Byrne superfan, comedian Ivo Graham. Later in the show, they were also joined by comediennes Josie Long and Sara Pascoe, both of whom had earlier graced the Comedy Stage. Both Adam and Ivo wore over-sized, Stop Making Sense-style suits for the duration of the show, no mean feat in the heat of the tent. There was audience participation, giveaways, singalongs, an appearance from members of the Byrne's Night tribute act (which uniquely celebrates both Talking Heads and Robert Burns), and more besides. A brilliant way to spend an hour, and the perfect warm-up for what was to come later.
• Ross Noble : The Comedy Stage. Latitude has maintained a strong comedy line-up over the years, but the flipside of that is that the Comedy Stage is always rammed. It can be very hard to get even a sight-line on the headline act. Still, I found a spot on the edge of the arena where I could just about see Ross. More importantly, I had a great view of his sign language interpreter. Most of the opening of Ross's act revolved around his very obvious and real delight at discovering what various signs were for things he was saying, and it was great watching him go off-piste and freestyle material around this. But no further into the set I got a text from Amusements Minor asking if we could meet up, so I bailed out and went to find the boy. He and his mates were flagging a bit - although AM has been to Latitude before, it was a first festival for the other two, and I don't think either of them had anticipated the size and scale, the temperature, the dustbowl that Henham Park had become in the heat, or the amount of walking. Still, I was able to gee them all up a bit and send them off in the direction of food and water, which seemed to do the trick.
• 
  Ain't - The Alcove. In their own words, Ain't are a "London five-piece channelling the stranger end of ‘90s guitar music", a description that was enough to get me to go along. I don't know about that though - musically, they seem to produce slightly anonymous indie rock, the one distinguishing feature of which seemed to be the shredded vocals of Hanna Baker Darch. I may have been extrapolating on thin evidence, but it looked to me like all the rest of the band fancy her, which is the sort of internal tension that leads bands to implode. Might be wise to investigate further quickly then, if you feel so minded. On balance, I do, just, if only to hear them properly as, once again, The Alcove suffered noise pollution from neighbouring stages.
• 
  Brooki : The Alcove. Noise pollution or not, after a quick diversion for dinner, I was back in The Alcove to see Brooki, an Irish four-piece that I was intrigued to see, on the strength of a programme write-up that name-checked Jeff Buckley and PJ Harvey. Well, at the risk of sounding like a wine critic, I didn't get much Buckley but there were certainly notes of Harvey in the vocals. I can't find her name anywhere but the vocalist also had more than a trace of Chrissise Hynde and even Siouxsie Sioux to her sound, to these old ears at least. She was also quite the beguiling frontwoman, dancing between verses in a t-shirt that proclaimed her to be "Romantic Material". The rest of the band were typical Sleeperblokes, save for the lead guitarist who seemed to have styled his look on the late Darius Danesh. How's that for a topical reference? Whatever. Beguiling frontwoman or not, the poor sound in The Alcove lead me to abort early, and head off for a bit of a sit-down with a cup of tea, which I managed to do at...
• Robin Ince's Nine Lessons for Latitude : The Listening Post. This show was essentially a grab-bag of different artists, invited by Robin to do their thing for five minutes each. Our compere interspersed the "lessons" with readings of his own comic poetry. By his own admission, poetry is a new development for Ince. If I was being unkind I might say it showed. That said, some of the lessons were very good: psychologist Dr Julia Shaw was excellent on the epistemic risks of AI; comedian Toussaint Douglass got genuine belly laughs out of this recalcitrant reviewer; a Geordie singer-songwriter called Sonny someone (I didn't catch it, sorry, and the programme is no help) was also good and charmingly enthusiastic; and more besides (I wish I'd made better notes). I couldn't stay to the end though, because I wanted to secure a half-decent spot for...
• David Byrne : The Obleisk Arena. I hadn't seen Byrne live before, so wasn't entirely sure what to expect. What I hadn't dared to expect was a gig that would mark a new entry in my notional "Top Ten Gigs Ever" list. Precisely on time, and without fanfare, David and his 12-strong ensemble took to the stage, clad head to toe in matching orange. All the musicians carried their instruments, even the percussionists (of which there were four), allowing them all to be mobile, all the time. And if this wasn't enough, the backing singers danced too. In fact, the whole show was choreographed, and I genuinely marvelled at the professionalism, rehearsal and prep that must have gone into co-ordinating the movement and musicianship. To do it for one song would be impressive - to do it for a 90-minute set was nothing short of mind-blowing. And then there was the lighting... or rather, lack of lighting, at least in the conventional gig sense. Instead, the band (troop?) were lit from above and below with different colour lights throughout the show, making their orange jumpsuits stand out dramatically. There were also high-definition panoramic back-projected images to add to the visual impact, most notably the footage of ICE raids in the US as a backdrop to Life During Wartime. Between songs, David was as thoughtful, considered and articulate as you'd want him to be. Singing, he was in terrific voice, indecently good for a man of 74. And the songs... oh, the songs. Aided by his immaculate band, the setlist included Heaven, And She Was, This Must Be The Place, Psycho Killer, Life During Wartime and Once in a Lifetime, before ending with an appropriately incendiary Burning Down The House. Within the 90-minute constraint he was forced to operate I guess something had to give, so I was a little disappointed not to hear David give Road to Nowhere a run out, but honestly that was my only minor quibble for the whole gig. As the band left the stage and the arena lights came up, Brian Eno's Ascent (An Ending) was piped quietly over the PA, providing the perfect coda on which to float away from this stunning set.

And that was pretty much that. I headed back to our pre-arranged rendezvous and found three very-tired looking lads waiting for me. We trudged wearily back to the car and then made our car park exit in record time - no queueing at all. The boys all fell asleep in the car on the way home, and I was tired too, but it was worth it for a day of unexpected fun and a headline act that will live long in the memory.

A footnote: the boys all agreed that the best act they saw all day was Must Be John. Amusements Minor was also quite taken with Overpass. They even conceded that David Byrne was pretty good for an old guy...

Sunrise, sunset

Amusements Minor is growing up fast. As I type this, he's about to sit down for his final GCSE, after which he will leave his current high school. He is celebrating this evening, not with his parents, but by going for a walk with another new development, his girlfriend. Sixth form and a new school awaits. Life awaits. It's all good but, you know...

Now I know that ought to make me think of this...

...but because of my exact age, it makes me think of this. If nothing else, it proves that even soft rock MOR ballsackery can sometimes be okay. Sorry (not sorry) but, as Rol says, sometimes you just have to irk the musos.

Use a clothes dryer as a hiding place

I saw this PIF on social media this morning. Dumb Ways to Die was an Australian public awareness campaign made by Metro Trains in Melbourne back in the halcyon year of 2012. It's novel and silly and memorable ... all the things you want from a PIF.

It's also very ear-wormy, with its finger-picking guitar, lo-fi alt vocal and happy slacker vibe. I've been lah-lahing it all day. Now, by the gift of aural infection, I pass it on to you.

In session tonight...

In the comments after a recent post about the weather, Adam from the inestimably brilliant Bagging Area made the observation that "Dew Point would be a good name for a band or project - something ambient maybe." C from the always-wonderful Sun-Dried Sparrows added that she would "give Weather Underground a listen too." I added the usual jokes required whenever something sounds vaguely like an obscure band name, talking about imagined Peel Sessions, and fantasy signings for Rough Trade. I probably patted myself on the back too.

Anyway, it all reminded me of the time I tweeted about seeing Abundance Mindset open for The Fall, on the strength of this cartoon...

Lots has changed since then. I don't use Twitter/X any more, simply because Elon and his audience raise too many antibodies in me. Dilbert cartoons like the one above are much harder to find online now too, since the cancellation of cartoonist Scott Adams. He died as well, of course, which probably doesn't help matters. What hasn't changed, since I work in the world of higher education, is that my salary still doesn't keep up with inflation, and that I'm still peddling the same simple jokes to a readership I can probably count on my fingers. Christ!

A song, then. Here's the actual Fall, in session for John Peel, a mere 46 years ago. This is Container Drivers, for no other reason than it makes me smile more than my own predictable jokes.

A watertight hit

I see Jimmy Carr recently posted footage from a stand-up show he did in the US in which an audience member was spectacularly, uncontrollably triggered by a relatively mild joke about Princess Diana. I don't know what they would have made of this, from Mitchell and Webb...

What? Too soon? Can't be, can it, when the joke isn't about her.

TV times...

Christmas television is not what is was in our younger day, quality content diluted across so many channels and platforms.

So here's an alternate viewing schedule for you, comprising videos I've squirelled away in my YouTube Watch Later list but never really found a reason to post about individually. Start this straight after Christmas lunch and this little lot should see you through to bedtime. Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals...

1. Alice Roberts | Morals Without Religion: the Unholy Mrs Knight and the Hypocritical Humanist - in case you've had too much religion this week (43:53)
2. FT Drama starring Stephen Fry | Is AI going to change who we really are? - short thought-provoker, feels very now (13:43)
3. BBC Archive | Big Jim's Boozy Bike Trip to Braemar - a reminder why Nationwide was better than The One Show (7:05)
4. The Jam | Danish TV Concert Special - nicely remastered TV special from 1982 (38:00)
5. CBS Mornings: R.E.M. on songwriting, breaking up and their lifelong friendship - proper Christmas feelgood (41:20)
6. BBC | "Call My Bluff" S11 E5 (1977) featuring Gabrielle Drake, Tom Baker, Miriam Stoppard, Alan Coren - tea-time telly with (70s sigh) Nick's sister Gabrielle... (29:56)
7. Mel Smith & Griff Rhys Jones | The Homemade Xmas Video - my concession to the fact that it's Christmas, after all (32:54)
8. The Royal Institution | The harsh reality of ultra processed food - with Chris Van Tulleken - something to digest as you, er, digest... (57:53)
9. Documentary | He's Starsky, I'm Hutch - be honest, you're already hearing the theme tune in your head (44:40)
10. DUST | Limbo - nothing says Christmas like a short film of Black Mirror-esque dystopia (24:22)
11. Fearne Cotton's Happy Place | Minnie Driver On How The Meaning Of Life Can Fluctuate - I could watch Minnie all day (54:54)
12. The Diary Of A CEO | Jimmy Carr: The Easiest Way To Live A Happier Life - love him or loathe him, he has some interesting things to say in this long-form interview (1:40:28)
13. Graham Norton | Robin Williams - unrivalled late-night chat show fare (37:42)
14. Television Archive | If I Ruled The World - late-night panel show comedy from 1999, if you still don't want to go to bed... (29:23)

The gospel according to Pete and Dud

"Me and the lads were abiding in the fields..."

Happy Christmas to all those that do.

Eeek!

Noodle Doodle mouses! Happy birthday TMOC!

That Was The Year That Was: 2025

Incredibly, this is the fifteenth time I've recapped a year like this (for completists, here are the others). Fifteen times, blimey ... God alone knows what we are both still doing here...

But since we are hanging around, still, I'll crack on with this nonsense, whilst you gaze in wonderment at just how staid, parochial and predictable I am.

It'll keep us both busy, if nothing else. Having said that, I've written noticeably less than in years gone by, so I won't keep you for long - we can all be thankful for that.

Best album

Well, there have been a couple of stand-outs for me this year: the unexpected joy of More by Pulp, and Antidepressants by Suede, who continue to surprise us all with the excellence of their third age.

Also noteworthy are Bowerbirds and Blue Things by Jetstream Pony and Find El Dorado by Paul Weller, the latter proving what a great reinterpreter he has always been.

Best song

Many of the songs I've heard for the first time this year are old, just new to me. But of 2025 releases, I've been impressed by Masquerade by Cardinals, Bonnet of Pins by Matt Berninger and Disintegrate by Suede. Oh, and a late dive for the tape was made by The Light Won't Shine Forever by Aussie band Floodlights. The nod, though, goes to Apple Green UFO by Andy Bell, which makes me feel about 30 years younger than I am. Who could ask for more? Here's the full length version to luxuriate in...

Best gig

As good as the usual suspects (The Smyths, From The Jam, The Wedding Present) have all been, and as good a night out as Roger Daltrey (morphing into Warwick Davis) was, the nod here, unsurprisingly, goes to the Gene reunion show at the Hammersmith Apollo in October. Literally everything I could ever want from a gig.

Best book

Like the song category, this has been tricky because most of what I've read for the first time this year has been old: Cider with Roadies by Stuart Maconie was very enjoyable, but was published in 2005. Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt, though an astonishing work of memoir, is even older (1999). But of course I can always rely on Stephen King - Never Flinch was not only published this year but also dependably enjoyable, even if not his best work.

Best film

The year was bookended by stand-outs: Dylan-goes-electric biopic A Complete Unknown at one end and Edgar Wright's ever-so-slightly-disappointing take on vintage King (as Bachman) The Running Man at the other. In between, A Big Bold Beautiful Journey deserves a special mention, for really making me think, whilst Brad's F1 and Tom's Mission Impossible: The Final Reckoning both delivered predictable thrills without reinventing cinema. I must also mention Nina Conti's brilliant surreal simian road movie, Sunlight. Oh, and as a dad, it was lovely to share movie nostalgia with Amusements Minor with the live-action remake of How To Train Your Dragon.

Best theatre

I haven't seen much on stage this year. Does an NT Live cinema screening of Dr Strangelove count? Steve Coogan was excellent in four roles. Also noteworthy was the 30th anniversary on-stage gathering, for performance and anecdotes, of The Fast Show ensemble, minus the late Caroline Aherne. Aren't end-of-year round-ups brilliant?! Oh, and I finally got to see the Jon Ronson: Psychopath Night stage show. Entertaining and thought-provoking stuff.

Best television

I feel like I must have forgotten something, because this reads like a really slow year for TV. Finally got Wednesday 2 on Netflix, which was good but inevitably not as good as the first series, despite a liberal sprinkling of Joanna Lumley. Like the rest of the nation, Amusements Towers got into Celebrity Traitors, despite never having watched a single moment of the regular, non-celebrity version. Apologies if there's a theme developing, but Celebrity Race Across The World also hits the spot in our house. And as I write this, we're half way through Stranger Things 5, so far living up to the almost impossible levels of expectation.

Best sport

I enjoyed Liverpool FC winning the Premier League, even if it felt anticlimatic. Just as well, because they've blown up a bit this season. Other notables included Iga Świątek at Wimbledon and Georgia Hunter Bell at the World Athletics Championships (both awesome), and the Lionesses at the UEFA Women's Euros.

Person of the year

Well, it's not a person but a thing: the NHS. Fourteen years of Tory underinvestment have left it on its knees and, as a result, it's pretty far from perfect these days. Yet still it goes on, against the odds, delivering care and services to our sick and injured. It's easy to point out when things go wrong in the NHS, and to be frustrated by bureaucracy and poor communication... but it gets so much right, still, even in the most trying of circumstances. We'll miss it when it's gone, you know.

Tool of the year

Trump again, obviously. Not content with sending troops into US cities for paper-thin, politically motivated reasons, claiming to end wars that have not ended, failing to touch the sides of what's going on in Ukraine, bulldozing bits of the White House to make way for a huge/vulgar ballroom (compensating much?), not sending anyone of any status or significance to COP 30, doing anything to divert attention from the Epstein files, pardoning people he doesn't even know, expressing interest in somehow running for a third term, presiding over the longest shutdown in US political history, finally promising to release those Epstein files and then not, and so much more besides... he's ended the year by going after the BBC and giving himself a sports day peace prize medal at the World Cup draw. That's a sequence of words I never conceived would be necessary or even feasible to write. What a desperate, sad, insecure, delusional little man he is ... and/or a colossal orange prick.

I hope that was worth it but know, deep down, that it wasn't. Reader: how was 2025 for you?

I'm proud of the BBC

As seems to happen with depressingly increasing regularity, the knives are once more out for the BBC, amid allegations of news bias, poor editorial judgment and hidden agendas. That these knives are mostly being wielded by those with an axe to grind or a score to settle should surprise no-one, but still deserves greater scrutiny.

This is ostensibly a comedy song from Mitch Benn and is at least fifteen years old, so could do with updating. The sentiment, however, remains spot on. We'll miss it when it's gone, you know?

Cover Charge #60 - Duran Duran to The Specials

Cover Charge is simple: A covers B, B covers C, C covers D and so on, until I loop back to where I started, Ouroboros-style.

Last time: Shirley Bassey to Duran Duran

From the outset, the goal of this series has been clear - explore a sequence of artist-linked cover versions, and try to end up back where we started. As you may recall, where we started was with The Specials. And how pleasing, to me at least, that I can bring the series to a close on a nice round number, with the sixtieth link in the chain on what would otherwise be an inauspicious day. This cover is a new one on me though; come on, hands up, who here knew that in 2023 Duran Duran released a Halloween-themed album called Danse Macabre? +5 kudos points to anyone for that. Anyway, they really did... and track eight was their Straight Bat rendition of Ghost Town.

No disrespect to Simon et al but, okay though that is, it feels like the subtext of the original has been lost, to this listener at least. But who cares because it brings us back to The Specials! Ouroboros has eaten his own tail! And not only that, but I get to end the series with not just my favourite Specials track of all, but with one of my favourite singles by anyone, ever. I have a memory of taping this off the radio back in 1981 that is so vivid, I can feel the play and record buttons under my fingertips.

And that, my friends, is the end of Cover Charge. Thanks for tagging along - it's been fun, I hope. Who knows, maybe I'll do a second loop around some time in the future when I run out of blogging ideas (which, let's face it, happens often).

I should also acknowledge the excellent SecondHandSongs website, without which this series would have been a lot harder to pull together. But, apart from that, for now...

...that's Numberwang!

The Cover Charge "chain" to date.

Sunday shorts: Game of Pricks

If you haven't already consumed the entirety of animator and film-maker Steve Cutts's YouTube channel, what are you waiting for? He has an excellent, dark sense of humour that I very much appreciate, and think you might too. Here's an example, the first short film of his that I saw.

There, that was good, wasn't it? The music used therein is Game of Pricks by Guided by Voices. Here's the full track in all its 93-second, retro-sounding, Sunday short glory.

May the fourth be with you ... always

I'm very aware of my somewhat sombre tone of late (what do you mean, "of late"?), so maybe some levity is in order. We're not going to push any musical boundaries with this, or change any lives, but genuinely here is a song that, once heard, is never forgotten. And never not funny ("That log had a child!"), as long as you have at least a basic knowledge of Star Wars... which everyone does, right?

Altogether now, "Hmm-ha, hmm hmm-hmm ha ..."

All of which, of course, explains this:

And if you, ahem, "enjoyed" this bad lip reading, you might also like this, from The Last Jedi. With added bacon references.

Public service book announcement

No, this is not an April Fool.

Slade House by David Mitchell (not that one, the other one) is currently only 99p if you have a Kindle or the Kindle app, but only for a limited time. It's bloody brilliant, you should definitely read it. It was my book of the year in 2016, when I lauded its "seductive prose and remorseless sense of the uncanny". So there.

And no, it's nothing to do with Noddy and Dave (or Cup-a-Soups).

And lo...

...a generation of introverted indie boys fell for Zooey Deschanel, just like that. Obligatory sigh, etc.

For completeness, here's the parody she and Joseph Gordon-Levitt gamely did for some Josh Horowitz show or other. "You like The Shat?"

D'you want a bag on your head?

Way back when, before my so-called career (ha!), I used to work in a hi-fi shop. It wasn't quite like this, though there were occasions when the customer's lack of technical knowledge could be advantageous. Upselling, I'd guess you'd call it these days. Don't judge me, it was a very low paid job with a commission element. Anyway, what I can say is that it was easy to sell expensive kit as long as it was demonstrably better. As long as I could demo a Sony CCD-TR805 camcorder I would sell it, more often than not, even though it was hideously expensive at £1,099.99, just because it was obviously so much better than everything else. Ditto the brilliant TCK-611S cassette deck, again expensive at £299.99 but an easy sell once demonstrated. Likewise the WM-DD33 Walkman (£99.99).

I was a good salesman, I think, because I made sure I knew my stuff, and used that knowledge to find something that matched the customer's needs. I enjoyed the job too, more often that not, and met a good mate there in the form of Tim, a friendship that endures to this day, despite rarely seeing each other.

I was interested in it all too, which is why I still knew those models numbers and prices instantly off the top of my head, despite my time there being more than 30 years ago. The brain's a funny thing, I guess. For the record, the 805 was a better camcorder because it had an optical image stabiliser (basically a clear gel between two lenses that acted as a dynamic prism) rather than the digital efforts of other brands, which tended to give grainy, pixelated results because they just didn't have the necessary processing power back then. And the 611S brought Dolby-S noise reduction to the domestic market, so much better than B and C; with a good quality blank tape (Sony Metal-XR, for example) the 611S would be the best way of recording CDs until MiniDisc and CD-Rs came along. As for the WM-DD33, well, DD stood for direct drive - no drive belts to stretch over time - plus it had heft! A sign of quality components, back then. Terry Hall had a WM-DD33, fact fans (and so did I).

I'll end with a track from a CD we used for demos, mostly because it was a DDD recording - digital recording equipment, digital mastering, digital media (rare then). With a good amp and decent speakers you could really appreciate the sound quality however much you liked the music ... and Sting irked the musos, even then. Here's the closing track from Ten Summoner's Tales, in all its 21st Century, compressed, low-bitrate, embedded YouTube misery. Does anyone care about sound quality any more?

That's a very Beatlesy outro there, isn't it?

People skills

Disclaimer: this post was written in December 2023, and scheduled for future posting. Its contents may no longer be accurate or appropriate.

'Tis the season. The workplace Christmas "do" season, that is. This, from David Mitchell and Robert Webb, is for anyone with/without people skills, who loves/hates mingling at social events. You know who you are.

May not be entirely SFW, linguistically.

"...as relaxed and friendly as a serial killer doing a police interview whilst still wearing his last victim's skin." Genius.

Now give him a proper chance

Another sabbatical-busting post, to mark the monumental election result from last night. There's only one thing to do at a moment like this...

Of course we should be under no illusion about the size of the task facing Starmer et al. Sure, a colossal majority will help them get their agenda through untrammelled, but they are inheriting a country not just in decline but in a state of collapse. And a country with very little cash to splash on solutions. How long, I wonder, before those that have been clamouring for change turn on those they have chosen to make it happen?

And for all the joyous Portillo moments (goodbye Rees-Mogg, so long Truss, farewell Mordaunt, adios Keegan, sayonara Shapps), plenty of others survived (Sunak, Hunt, Cleverly, Dowden, Badenoch and, worst of all, Braverman). Not only that but the country has had a mirror held up to it, and the reflection shows a massive level of support, in vote-share terms if not elected MPs, for Reform. The batrochoidal pub-bore took his dog-whistle to Clacton and won. Other coastal towns on the east followed suit, with Skegness and Yarmouth letting themselves down. It should be a source of national shame that Reform has four MPs now ... although I take comfort in the fact that is significantly less than the thirteen initially predicted by the exit poll.

On the other hand, we should take pride, and maybe a little hope, in the fact that the Green Party also now have four MPs, with a record share of the vote too. It's tempting to say the electorate are waking up, but of course they're not, just old voters are dying off and new ones are coming of age.

I'm also pleased to see the resurrection of the Liberal Democrats. Whatever you think of them, and their leader, three-party politics is better (and more interesting) than two.

Whatever, On another day, and in a colder light, people will point to how Labour's vote share showed only a very modest increase and that, in reality, the cause of the monumental swing is primarily blue defection to Reform and LibDem. But it seems churlish to point that out, right now. Because right now is a time for celebration. Farewell Tories, you total feckless shower, you heartless, inept, morality-vacuum, you corrupt puddle of cronyism, sleeze and entitlement ... farewell. Don't rush back.

And remember, kids - things can change...

People are stupid so, you know, they'll buy anything

Disclaimer: this post was written in December 2023, and scheduled for future posting. Its contents may no longer be accurate or appropriate.

If I've got my dates right, Wimbledon starts today. A fortnight of sporting excellence and perhaps the best event of its type in the world. I'm crossing my fingers that Katie, Emma and Andy all make it into the second week, but that seems slightly optimistic written, as this is, in the middle of December. Anyway, it seems like a good time to share a video that might have passed you by if Wimbledon is the only tennis you watch all year. Lots of detail in this to enjoy.

And so, with a tenuous tennis link, this is La Electricidad by Spanish band McEnroe. After spending much time pasting text into Google Translate, I can tell you that McEnroe are from Getxo, a little town just north of Bilbao, and have been recording off and on since 2004 (although currently they seem to be on hiatus). Main man Ricardo Lezón seems to have a competing solo career, from what I can make out, and publishes poetry too. Anyway, La Electricidad opens side two of McEnroe's 2015 album Rugen Las Flores (The Flowers Roar) and sounds like this:

Here are the original lyrics, and a rough translation, with all apologies to Spanish speakers everywhere:

La Electricidad

Electricity

Acuérda te de mi, cuando pises algún charco Cuando escuches algún pája ro cantar Acuérda te de mi, cuando veas algún rayo Agrietando todo el cielo como un cristal No dejes de buscar, incluso en la hora más oscura Puede apa recer de pronto la electricidad Yo estaré por aquí, escondido en algún recuerdo O en el leve movimiento de sentir Y cabe la po si bi lidad De que te vuelva a encontrar, en algún incendio Y cabe la po si bi lidad De que te vuelva a encontrar, en algún incendio Me acordaré de ti, parado en algún semáforo O afinando justo antes de salir Estás por aquí, escondida en alguna frase O en el leve movimiento de vivir Y cabe la po si bi lidad De que te pueda olvidar, en algún momento Y cabe la po si bi lidad De que te pueda olvidar, en este momento

Remember me, when you step in some puddle When you hear some bird sing Remember me, when you see some lightning Cracking the whole sky like glass Don't stop looking, even in the darkest hour Electricity can suddenly appear I'll be here, hidden in some memory Or in the slight movement of feeling And there's a chance That I may find you again, in some fire And there is the possibility That I'll find you again, in some fire I will remember you, stopped at some traffic light Or tuning up just before I go out You're around here somewhere, hidden in some sentence Or in the slight movement of living And there's a chance That I can forget you, at some point And there is the possibility That I can forget you, at this moment

So there's a first for New Amusements, a Spanish language track. Bastante buena, en mi opinión. ¿Qué te parece?