Wednesday, 11 July 2012

Clandestine Classic XXVII - Hey Dude

Kula Shaker. Control yourselves, ladies.The 27th post in an occasional series that is intended to highlight songs that you might not have heard that I think are excellent - clandestine classics, if you will. Maybe they'll be by bands you've never heard of. Maybe they'll be by more familiar artists, but tracks that were squirelled away on b-sides, unpopular albums, radio sessions or music magazine cover-mounted CDs. Time will, undoubtedly, tell.

I'm in two minds what to say about today's featured act, Kula Shaker. It would be easy to dismiss them as ridiculous indie fluff, slipstreaming in the wake of the Britpop behemoth. Even back then (then being 1996), I was a bit cynical. The whole "we're so into Indian mysticism we've got songs called Tattva and Govinda" seemed a bit contrived to me, a bit deliberate. Maybe unfairly, I thought this was little more than a ruse, an attempt to have a USP that would get them in the NME. And as if that wasn't enough, much was made of lead singer's Crispian Mill's showbusiness lineage - son of Hayley, grandson of Sir John - as if that in itself was enough to warrant press coverage and record sales. I scoffed. I tutted. I probably rolled my eyes. And then I heard today's Clandestine Classic and went out and bought the album.

And it - K, from 1996 - is not bad. Not bad at all. Yes, there's plenty of that "we're so into India" stuff that felt contrived but, for the most part, the sitar, tabla, tamboura and the rest all work. Today's classic doesn't feature any of them though. I guess you'd say Hey Dude plays it straight, relying on phasing and guitar effects to achieve some moderate psychedelia. And the punters loved it, with Hey Dude soaring to number 2 in the UK singles chart (some might say that's too successful to be clandestine, but I make the rules). I loved it too, and here's why.

Those first twenty seconds, the intro - it really rolls! There's an excellent, driving bassline which suddenly breaks off leaving a tingling guitar which you just know means something percussive is headed our way. And then bang, that something arrives and it's a fast, pedal-to-the-metal rock and roll riff with slightly trippy lyrics and a singalong chorus. It belts along, this song, and more than most post-Britpop indie of that period, it's a song that yearns to be cranked up loud in the car (provided your ICE can handle plenty of bass). It will make you drive faster, this song.

At about 2 minutes 45 there's a proper guitar break too, about as close to rocking out as jangly Britpop could get. And then the ending, in which rather than just stopping of fading out, the whole song is allowed to change down through the gears, get it's breath back, and roll to a dignified stop.

I can forgive a lot for this song. I can certainly forgive any mystic pretensions. It gets trotted out occasionally at my local 90s indie club night (Britpoppin', that's called, accurately if somewhat unimaginatively) and it still sounds bloody great through big, bassy club speakers. But you don't have to drag yourself clubbing to hear it - you can pick up the album here, or maybe download something of interest here. And then there's always YouTube. The video has worn alright too, don't you think?

Tuesday, 10 July 2012

Radiohead's artist-in-residence

Stanley Donwood, Radiohead's artist-in-residence, has a lovely new book out featuring some of his incredible line art. There are two launches, one of which is next week, in Norwich at the inestimable and irretrievably cool Bicycle Shop (not an actual bicycle shop). Stanley discusses the book in some detail on his website. Anyway here, as I believe the kids say, is the skinny:

Holoway by Stanley Donwood - Norwich launch

Thursday, 5 July 2012

Saturday, 9 June 2012

Friday, 8 June 2012

Not Film 2012 but a film review anyway: Prometheus

Prometheus has an abundance of cool visualsAccording to Greek myth, Prometheus was the Titan who stole fire from Olympus and gave it to mankind; Zeus punished him by chaining him to a rock where an eagle gnawed at his liver until he was rescued by Hercules. Hmm. A fitting title then, for a film which suggests that human life on Earth was "seeded" by a race of engineers from a distant planet. That might be a spoiler (sorry) but I doubt it, such is the volume of hype that has surrounded this film. Understandably so, of course - after all, this is Sir Ridley Scott's return to the genre he redefined with Alien (regular readers will know I love that film). A return, no less, to the world of Alien itself... Exciting stuff. But is the film any good?

In short, yes. But is it great, like Alien? No, not really, and that's a shame because it could have been - a lot of key ingredients are there: the idea that humans were "engineered", whilst not new, has plenty of scope; the cast is excellent; Scott directs and produces; cinematography is sweeping and impressive (especially in the opening sequence); CGI is rendered flawlessly yet with uncommon subtlely; and the 3D I chose to view the film in (after considerable debate) was the best I've seen, giving real perspective without, ironically, being too in-your-face. Oh, and I loved (what I perceived to be) the parallels with 2001 - archaeological evidence found suggesting a interplanetary creator, a ship being dispatched to find that creator with the crew (oblivious to the mission) in suspended animation, a murderous or at least deranged machine. Even the widescreen vistas of the opening sequence. Oh, and the ship's computer uttering the line "Good morning David." A little less formal and you'd have a perfect match. But I digress. The film has plenty going for it, yet somehow still manages to miss the target I had build up for it in my fanboy mind.

So what went wrong?

Charlize Theron, about whom I now have a slight 'thing'Well, there are plenty of issues, so to distract from the fact that I'm about to be a bit negative about a film I still liked, it's time to include a gratuitous shot of the lovely Charlize Theron... Now, back to those issues. Sorry, but I feel bulletpoints coming on.

  • There's a lot of excessive and blatant signposting early on. As in, "Oh, you just happen to have this machine that can do any kind of surgery, and oh, you just happen to have your own quarters which can detach as a standalone craft… I wonder if either of those will be needed later?" That kind of thing. I know such technicalities can be hard to "show, not tell" but it feels like they hardly even tried.
  • There are a few expository plot leaps of faith too, notably when the captain (Idris Elba) of Prometheus plucks the realisation that the planet was the engineer’s weapons base seemingly from the air. A friend of mine calls this the Resolution Of Everything, and makes the excellent point that this doesn't work because the captain's character hasn't been developed enough for us to trust such innate insight.
  • Why does David, the android played by Michael Fassbender, deliberately infect Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green)? This is never really explained, at least not to my satisfaction.
  • Why can't Fifield (Sean Harris) and Milburn (Rafe Spall) find their way out of the engineer's base when their colleagues do so easily, and quickly?
  • Why is old man Weyland, who is clearly meant to be a centegenarian, played by Guy Pearce (currently 44)? Make-up is great but Weyland still looked like a young guy wearing a lot of greasepaint. Are there no screen-friendly old actors any more?
  • Where does Meredith Vickers (Theron) disappear to for the middle third of the film?
  • Where were the original shock moments? The oral impregnation from Alien is repeated, the emergence from stomach is repeated (albeit with a twist). But where's something new?

Don't get me wrong, as I've already said there's lots to enjoy in Prometheus. I enjoyed Prometheus, very much. Michael Fassbender, excellent as android David, steals the acting plaudits. Noomi Rapace and Charlize Theron, between them, provide the "strong woman" characteristics that the long shadow of Ripley demands. But the whole thing just feels like it's been tinkered with, re-edited and cut about, with a touch more of this and a dash less of that - in short, that it's been hacked about in response to feedback from preliminary test screenings and consumer surveys. On the plus side, this gives hope that in years to come there'll be a Prometheus Director's Cut - Scott has plenty of previous convictions for that, after all. And it's a film crying out for a sequel - there are too many unanswered questions in this one. Another mate of mine reckons Dr Shaw will turn out to be Ripley's mother, by the way, and wouldn't that be a neat twist?

So in conclusion it's good - I'd still recommend you go and see it - but not great. And whilst I enjoyed it, I can't see myself watching it in full every single time it's shown on television in years to come, something I still do with Alien, 33 years after its release. And that probably tells you all you need to know.

Prometheus is currently on general release, and will be available to buy soon enough.

Thursday, 7 June 2012

A mobile history

Because I know you're all very concerned about my mobile phone history, I have a Sony Ericsson Ray these days...

Mobile history

If nothing else, when I ran this sort of to-scale chronology once before it proved very popular...

Tuesday, 15 May 2012

Clandestine Classic XXVI - Where Is My Mind? (cover)

Where is my mind?The 26th post in an occasional series that is intended to highlight songs that you might not have heard that I think are excellent - clandestine classics, if you will. Maybe they'll be by bands you've never heard of. Maybe they'll be by more familiar artists, but tracks that were squirelled away on b-sides, unpopular albums, radio sessions or music magazine cover-mounted CDs. Time will, undoubtedly, tell.

I bloody love the Pixies. If you don't too, you should. Maybe you saw the title of this post and thought they were getting a run out here. Well, no, sorry to disappoint, for today's clandestine classic is a cover version. The original comes from what is probably my favourite Pixies album, 1988's Surfer Rosa, but the cover featured here today is a much more recent affair. Does this mean I'm getting down with the kids?

Well, not really, unless bluegrass is trending on Twitter or being pimped by Cowell et al. But I digress - let's stick to the facts. Last October, Minnesota acoustic 5-piece Trampled By Turtles (about whom I know nothing) released a bluegrass (about which I know next to nothing) cover of Where is My Mind for the WhyHunger charity. Then they released a crowd-sourced video of the song, recruiting fans via Facebook. They asked fans to submit photos of themselves creatively holding a sign with one word from the song on it - these were stitched together in a montage, interspersed with live concert footage from a show in Louisville.

The good thing about this is I don't have to know anything about Trampled By Turtles or bluegrass - all I know is that their version of this song ticks all the "what makes a good cover" boxes. It doesn't just try to forensically ape the original. It brings something new to the party. And it can be enjoyed without making you hanker after the original. Having said all that, I think the real trick to the success of this track, apart from the slightly sinister (to this listener, at least) air bestowed by the slow banjo plucking, is the substitution of a mournful violin where once Kim Deal's backing vocals were. It works. It really works.

I'm not going to link to a dodgy download today, because any legit download still contributes to the charity, so here's the track on iTunes. Go and buy it. Then sit back and enjoy this video which, as I've already said, is really pretty good.

Monday, 30 April 2012

A good big'un will usually beat a good littl'un

I went to see a Premier League match at the weekend: Norwich City v Liverpool. In other words, my adopted home town against the team I supported as a boy. So I had conflicting feelings, I'll be honest, because although Norwich is the team I go and see, the team I literally support, I still watch the Reds' results with a very close eye.

Much has been made of how well the Canaries have done this season, not only to survive but to do so in some style. Only Man City have really spanked us (twice). We drew against Liverpool at Anfield, were unlucky against Man Utd at Old Trafford and beat Spurs at White Hart Lane. But Liverpool gave us a lesson on Saturday. We never looked like scoring and, to be honest, they could have had more than three.

But anyway, I'll keep this brief - I don't want to alienate those with no interest in footy. So in Powerpoint-style, here are my bullet-pointed observations from the game:

  • Luis Suarez is a world-class player. A bit of a dick too - he falls over too easily and constantly jibes at players off the ball when the ref's not watching - but you can't argue with his skill. Shame he can't get the genius/pillock balance right.
  • Steven Gerrard is awesome. He ran the entire game. I don't know if he will go on as long as the likes of Giggs and Scholes, but I hope he does, for Liverpool's and England's sake.
  • Elliott Ward had a 'mare - Suarez had his number from the word go. If we hadn't lost our left-back early doors, I think he would have been subbed off. I was embarrassed for him, and wouldn't be surprised if his contract wasn't renewed in the summer.
  • Steve Morison polarises fans, and I can see why. He just doesn't seem to work very hard, especially when compared to Grant Holt who was eventually brought on to replace him. But then I charge around like a headless chicken at 5-a-side and it doesn't make me a better player, so maybe the large proportion of the Carrow Road crowd that were on Morison's back just because he doesn't seem to put in the effort are wrong. Then again...
  • It was great to see my childhood hero, King Kenny, even if he was only standing on the touchline. The 3,500 or so travelling fans chanted his name and he acknowledged them with a wave every time. The guy can do no wrong in my eyes.
  • Suarez's third goal has been compared to Beckham's half-way line goal but was way better. Beckham was barely moving when he hit his - Suarez was belting along, and being chased by a defender. I don't think I have seen too many better goals, and certainly not at games I've actually been at. Here it is.

Thursday, 19 April 2012

Clandestine Classic XXV - The Day Before You Came

Agnetha in the video. Minx.The 25th post in an occasional series that is intended to highlight songs that you might not have heard that I think are excellent - clandestine classics, if you will. Maybe they'll be by bands you've never heard of. Maybe they'll be by more familiar artists, but tracks that were squirelled away on b-sides, unpopular albums, radio sessions or music magazine cover-mounted CDs. Time will, undoubtedly, tell.

This is going to be a difficult post, and one in which I risk my hard-earned indie credentials. Because yes, today's Clandestine Classic is a 1982 single from Abba. Yep, you read that right, the Swedish behemoth that bestrode the world in the Seventies and early Eighties like an eight-legged Scandinavian Colossus. But what do you think of when you think of Abba? Waterloo/Eurovision? Maybe. Dancing Queen? Perhaps. Mamma sodding Mia? That's understandable, given its reinvention as a musical and film. But what about the songs? The proper songs...

Though I probably should be, I'm not ashamed to admit to liking Abba. If you take a look at my gigography on Songkick, you'll see they were my first gig, nine years old and wide-eyed at Wembley Arena. I still have the tour programme somewhere. And the lyrics are still ingrained from hours and hours of pre-teen headphone listening and singing along. Okay, so those lyrics were often a bit twee but have you tried writing a song in Swedish? Fair play to Benny and (mainly) Björn, I say.

But forget the songs I've mentioned above, and the others that spring to mind, like the Partridge-endorsed Knowing Me, Knowing You (did you just do an internal "Ah-ha!" - I did), the dum-diddy-dum of Take A Chance On Me, the oft-parodied Super Trouper, forget 'em! They were all way too successful and familiar to be Clandestine Classics. Besides, most of their best songs, in my view, came late in their career, as singles chart success began to tail off. It's one of those I've picked today.

You could argue that the darker tone of their last studio album, 1981's The Visitors, was down to the disintegration of the two marriages within the band. Agnetha and Björn were already divorced, Benny and Frida were heading that way. Yet still all recording and performing together. It must have been a tense time, especially when Björn went off and married an Agnetha-clone. The template for minor-key heartbreak and misery, Abba-style, was already set with The Winner Takes It All but that was number 1 in half of Europe and even made it to number 8 in the States, helped in no small measure by its lump-in-the-throat video. So, far too successful to be Clandestine. But their pre-penultimate single release, The Day Before You Came, only limped to number 32 in the UK - a failure by Abba's standards.

I'll be honest, I almost chose Blancmange's cover of this song today. It's very good, definitely worth five minutes of your time, and would have preserved my indie credentials perhaps. But I'm sorry, great though it is (especially the extended 12" mix), synthesizers are no match for the layered backing vocals in the original. I'm not going to say anything else about Abba, or what they did next - there's nothing I can add to what's already out there. But I will ask you to listen, without prejudice or snobbery, to a truly excellent song. Of its time, yes, but excellent nonetheless. If there's a better song about being ruined by meeting the wrong person (or the right person at the wrong time, perhaps?) I can't think when I've heard it. You can get The Day Before You Came on The Visitors or compilation More Abba Gold. Or here. Or YouTube, of course. Here you go.

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Robert De Niro's waiting... for one more good role

So there I am, last night, sat in front of the TV lamenting the fact that Easter doesn't equate to a slew of good programmes to watch in the same way that Christmas does. Or did. Channel-surfing, I found that Heat was on Film 4, halfway through. And I got to thinking. Robert De Niro has made many amazing films, and some of my all-time favourites: Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, The Deer Hunter, Goodfellas and Cape Fear. Especially Cape Fear. But I started to wonder - has he made a truly great film since Cape Fear in 1991? I'm not sure that he has. A quick look at his filmography on IMDB suggests maybe not. Some would argue the case for Heat and also Casino. Maybe Frankenstein. But I'm not convinced. Good, yes, but great? Others would say he's good in Meet The Parents and I wouldn't disagree - it's a fine comedy. But good and fine are not great.

Here's a clip from Cape Fear showing a masterclass in understated menace from De Niro, back when he still demanded meaty roles that he could really get his teeth into. These days? De Niro by numbers, sadly. What a waste.

So what do you think? Am I right? Wrong? Have I missed a stellar performance from De Niro in the 20 years since Cape Fear that scales the heights he climbed in the 20 years preceding it? Let me know...