Should I stay or should I go?

In the face of an ever-dwindling readership, I (like many others) have recently contemplated whether I should bother with blogging any more. Very few of you will read this. Fewer still will comment, share or otherwise interact. The harsh truth is that the blogging wave has long since crested, and I have come to the conclusion that if I carry on doing this then it will primarily be for my own benefit. I know, how very selfish.

That also means I should consider taking steps to make it easier on myself. No more hand-coding every page, every RSS entry, every sitemap. No more manually pinging blog indexes after every new post. No more writing my own commenting and blogroll solutions (however much I secretly enjoyed the techie challenge). Why not give myself a way to submit posts by email? Or remotely using a mobile app? Maybe, just maybe, I should succumb and move the whole shebang to one of the blogging big boys...

So that's what I've done. It's taken a lot of cutting and pasting, but the entirety of PipSpeak is now on Blogger, comments and all. I've taken the opportunity to have a big redesign too and a renaming - the new title comes from an old Gene song. The quote below the title comes from the best short story I read in 2013. And the whole thing can be found at:

newamusements.blogspot.com (RSS)

So what do you think? Should I soldier on with DIY-blogging at pip.host22.com or get into bed with Google at newamusements.blogspot.com? Comment here, or there (or both), and tell me what you think?

That was the year that was: 2013

It's that time of the year again, the time for pointing out all the things worth remembering 2013 for. I was going to give these awards a name, maybe something based on a humourous acronym, but everything I thought of was puerile. I'll just call them something like the Totally Worthless Annual Trophies, I suppose, and leave the acronyms to other people. Here we go then, eyes down.

Best album

"The Messenger" by Johnny Marr - a stunning return, reminding everybody of the power he and his guitar can bring. Some might argue that lyrics from a certain Steven could add something, and maybe they would, but that's not to lessen the album as it stands. Essential, I would say.

Honourable mentions: "Amok" by Atoms For Peace; "Tooth And Nail" by Billy Bragg; "Antiphon" by Midlake.

Best song

"Handyman Blues" by Billy Bragg - aside from the fine (and semi-star-studded) video, if there's a song from this year that I can identify with more, I haven't heard it. We're all of a certain age, and none of us are men in the same way that our dads were, however you choose to measure.

Honourable mentions: "Barriers" by Suede; "Where You Stand" by Travis . Yes, it's been a quiet year.

Best gig

Another nod here for Johnny Marr whose set at The Waterfront in March was tight, encompassed songs from all periods of his career, delivered some musically perfect Smiths renditions and sent everyone home happy. Who could ask for any more?

Honourable mentions: a covers band! The Smyths were simply fantastic, not least for their comedically accurate "Morrissey"; a surprisingly vital Boomtown Rats at UEA.

Best book

"Joyland" by Stephen King. All the fuss this year has been about Shining sequel "Doctor Sleep" but this is far, far better. The writing is superior, the story is pacier, there's no middle-third slump, and you don't have to be a horror fan to enjoy it. An easy winner.

Honourable mentions: "Let's Kill Love" by Mark Kilner, a debut collection of wonderful (and enviable) consistency and quality; "Autobiography" by Morrissey, in which Salford's finest discovers he can still trouble the charts. The book charts, that is.

Best film

Hands down, this goes to "Gravity" for its ground-breaking depiction of life in orbit. Sure, we can all nit-pick about some of the finer technicalities (though I, for one, would rather see Ms Bullock de-suit to her underwear than to a NASA nappy), and a bit of disbelief suspension is required for the ending, but overall this is an astonishing film. I hope it has the same sort of effect of the youth of today as "2001" had on me many, many moons ago.

Honourable mentions: Ron Howard's typically detailed recreation of 70s Formula 1 in "Rush"; the achingly sad captive orca documentary "Blackfish", essential viewing if you have ever been to, or even thought about going to, Seaworld.

Best television

In this year's most fiercely contended category, the award goes to "The Fall" from the BBC. This serial killer police procedural, set in Northern Ireland, pulled no punches. The shocks and scares were only outnumbered by the fantastic acting performances, chief among which was Gillian Anderson, whose turn as an ice queen Met detective was nothing short of mesmeric. The story messed with your head too, not least in its characterisation of the killer. I won't spoil it by saying more, just go and watch it as soon as you can. Series two next year...

Honourable mentions: it's been a good year for TV, so there are lots. BBC political drama "The Politician's Husband"; French genius (and spookiness) in "The Returned"; the continued brilliance of "The Walking Dead"; scarily plausible "what if?" mockumentary "Blackout"; the serendipitous comic joy of "Gogglebox"; and I've even stuck with series three of "Homeland"...

Best comedy

Easy. "Nina Conti" - not for having gone to my old uni, and not for being eminently watchable in all kinds of ways, but for delivering a ventriloquism act that doesn't pander to its audience, is clever, inventive and beautifully crafted. Not only that, Nina reclaims the honour of vent acts the world over from its Orville-based nadir...

Honourable mentions: "Modern Life Is Goodish", Dave Gorman's endlessly inventive exploration of 21st Century life; the final episode of "The IT Crowd", for reminding everyone how to end a show properly.

Best theatre (new for 2013)

"Black Watch", a show of uncompromising raw power and unique staging. Modern warfare is horrific, especially when the reasons for what you're doing are dubious to say the least, and this searing portrayal of Scottish squadies' Iraq war experience demonstrates that, and then some. Visually arresting and utterly immersive, it's hard to think of a more emotionally affecting theatrical experience than this. See it somewhere if you can.

Honourable mentions: "How Like An Angel", a stunning, atmospheric combination of gymnastics, athleticism, music and movement. The late-night staging in Norwich Cathedral only added to the experience...

Best blogger (new for 2013)

The single thing I have most enjoyed watching this year, whether film, television or online, is Andrew Collins's "Telly Addict" video blog for The Guardian, twelve minutes a week of pithy insight, knowing comedy, informed opinion and knowledgable comment. If you don't already subscribe to this, you should. On top of this, Andrew also writes, for fun, the music blog "Circles Of Life", in which he seeks to dissect his favourite 143 songs of all time. Oh, and the excellent "other" blog, "Never Knowingly Underwhelmed". Andrew is, by some margin, my blogger of the year.

Honourable mentions: "Too Much Apple Pie" from Kippers and Spike; "My Top Ten" from Rol; and the occasionally NSFW, wonderfully acidic pseudo-consumer blog "Bitter Wallet".

And that's it. Agree/disagree? What were your best bits?

Happy birthday mate

Happy birthday to the Man of Cheese, my kith and kin for more than thirty years and the best mate anyone could ever have. Hopefully this (unlike the present) will be something new to watch!

Clandestine Classic XXXVI - Made To Last

The thirty-sixth 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 haven't done one of these for a while. Not entirely sure why. Time is always an issue these days (see also the great unfinished novel and the house in a permanent state of ongoing decoration), that's part of it. Also, in fairness to myself, it's getting harder to think of clandestine classics. Look at the definition in the first paragraph - it's simply getting harder to think of songs that you probably haven't heard of that justify a claim of greatness. Especially when you factor in the unwritten rule that I cannot feature an act more than once in this series. But never mind, because a recent surrendipitous trawl through some CDs saw me stumble upon Feeling Strangely Fine by Semisonic. Then my problem changed from having no classics to which one should I choose from a whole album full of them?

So where to start? For those of you unfamiliar with the band, let me tell you that they formed in Minneapolis in 1995. After a couple of early releases and some Stipe-endorsement, Feeling Strangely Fine was their second studio album, released in 1998. It yielded their commercial highpoints on both sides of the Atlantic - Closing Time (#11 in the US) and Secret Smile (#13 in the UK) - along with a plethora of reliably good stuff from which I could have chosen a classic: Singing In My Sleep, DND, Completely Pleased, This Will Be My Year, and more besides. But it's Made To Last that gets the nod, and here are the many reasons why.

It starts very slowly, gently, clearly a downbeat tune with a vocal delivery and delicate acoustic guitar line to match. Or is it? Maybe it's just bittersweet? Maybe defiant too? I'm not sure, even after studying the lyrics. I read it as being a song about a relationship that has ended - singer Dan Wilson sounds gutted about it but at the same time he bears his ex no ill-will. Indeed, he hopes - seemingly without irony - that she carries on as she is for a long, long time, whilst recognising that he didn't know how to make her happy. Or... maybe this is all nonsense. Maybe it's just a meaning that I have conjured and ascribed to the song because, although released in 1998, I didn't get this album until early 2006... and right about then I was a prime candidate for wallowing in bittersweet introspection with no ill-will. It was a perfect moment of musical symbiosis - my interpretation of this song perfectly matched my mood, and as a result it lodged firmer than any of the other tracks on what is a remarkably consistent album.

Aside from the "it's all about me" mumbo-jumbo, what of the music? Well, my best description of Semisonic is that they're what Travis would sound like if they came from Minnesota rather than Glasgow. And that's a good thing, by the way - I'm not ashamed to hold my hand up and admit to liking Travis (the eighth best gig I've ever been to, lest we forget). And with Made To Last, Semisonic pull off several crowd-pleasing tricks: firstly, a song that starts off downbeat morphs into something redemptive and quietly uplifting; secondly, it goes up through the gears (notice the change of pace at 1.44 and again at 3.35); and thirdly, it has a soaring, elegiac chorus that pervades and, given the slightest encouragement, achieves ear-worm status. To do one of these things is a sign of rare quality. To do all three is the mark of a classic.

One more album followed, after which the band as a whole seems to have gone on permanent hiatus. Individual members do their own thing, and Semisonic tracks regularly get picked up for soundtrack use (notably Closing Time, used in Friends With Benefits which, coincidentally, I blogged about last month). There are semi-regular mutterings about doing something more as Semisonic but, for now, muttering is all it is. Guess that means you're going to have to content yourself with a copy of Feeling Strangely Fine and today's classic, courtesy of the daily marvel that is YouTube. Enjoy.

Coincidence?

No, I haven't seen Friends With Benefits. It looks crap, so why would I? But I did see the DVD case in a shop at the weekend, and couldn't help but wonder. You see, it's basically a film about f***buddies. Of course, being a Hollywood romcom, said buddies fall in love "properly" at the end (so IMDB tells me).

Anyway, sorry to lower the tone and everything, but I was just wondering - given that it's about f***buddies, do you think the handsigns photoshopped onto Justin and Mila are coincidence or intentional?

Or should I just be worried about my subconscious mind? And/or grow up?

Bobby and Marty

Early last year, I made the assertion that Robert De Niro hasn't made a really good film since Cape Fear. I was thinking about this some more last night (whilst watching Cape Fear again - thanks ITV4). And you know what? I might have been a little harsh. I think you can make a case for his portrayal of the monster in 1994's Frankenstein (here's evidence of that, with added Bonham-Carter content) and he puts in a fine shift, albeit in a supporting role, in Sleepers, from 1996 (he makes a fine priest, don't you think?) Oh, and I probably need to watch Casino again before I pass definitive judgement on that.

But now... there's hope for a new entry in the canon. The Family is directed by Luc Besson, exec-produced by Martin Scorsese, and also stars the always-watchable Michelle Pfeiffer and Tommy Lee Jones in the sort of grizzled role he has made his own. The signs are good. I'm a little concerned, of course, that this looks like a comedy, at least in part, and De Niro's comedic touch is sometimes... well, let's move on. Much is being made of the fact that Scorsese is on-board, probably because of the assumption that, even if only as an executive producer, the combination of Bobby and Marty will once more weave its magic.

Here's the trailer, which is probably enough to secure my cinema-going pounds. What do you all think? Am I (for once) being hopelessly optimistic, or might it actually be good?

I've lost something...

At the start of American Beauty, in his voiceover introduction, Lester Burnham says:

"Both my wife and daughter think I'm this gigantic loser and they're right, I have lost something. I'm not exactly sure what it is but I know I didn't always feel this... sedated. But you know what? It's never too late to get it back."

It's a great line, in a film that is peppered with them. But is Lester right? Is it never too late?

Until quite recently, I used to think I had my finger, if not on the pulse, well, at least I'd be feeling around in the right area. I knew my way around contemporary music, who was popular and why. Now, if I turn on Radio 1, within moments I am wondering when the mainstream became quite so shit. The Top 40 means virtually nothing to me. It's inexplicably one-dimensional and, almost without exception, crap - when did that happen? And since we're on the subject of such inponderables, why can't a track just be credited to an artist? Why do so many songs have to be by X (featuring Y), or A (vs B), or M (N & O remix)? And it's not just the music, it's the zeitgeist that surrounds popular culture; how, for example, did Nick Grimshaw become successful or famous? (For extra credit, discuss when the latter became more important than the former.) What aspects of his life, personal or professional, merit his current ubiquity? As far as I can tell, he's appalling, little more than a box-ticking generic presenter created in much the same way as Cowell et al create short-lived chart acts except, unlike Cowell, the BBC should surely know better.

As if to confirm to myself that I've somehow got old, take a look at my Songkick gigography - who have I been to see this year? The Boomtown Rats, The Smyths, The Stone Roses, The Selecter and Johnny Marr. All either old men, or in the case of The Smyths (who were brilliant, by the way) designed to appeal to old men. To top it off, I'm going to see The Wedding Present again next month. Oh, and CDs (yes, I still buy physical product, no MP3 downloads for me - QED, right?)... the only album I bought this year by an artist I haven't already known and loved for years is Ritual, Tradition, Habit by The Belle Game.... and I haven't listened to that yet in the two months I've had it.

Physically... well, I dream of waking up one morning without back ache. And I'd love to be able to sleep on my left-hand side without having to contend with a persistent dull ache below the ribs on that side in the morning. I mean, I try to stay fittish - I run, I play football, the bike comes out of the shed on a semi-regular basis. But five years ago I was running half-marathons, and had pace on the pitch. That's all gone now. All of it. Last week, at five-a-side, we were short of players, as were the group on the next pitch, so we ended up playing each other. And okay, yes, I was conceding fifteen years to most of the lads on the other team, but it wasn't even close. It was even worse than watching Norwich City step aside for Man City at the weekend.

My career could, at best, be described as stationary. Others would say it is in gradual decline, and I couldn't disagree. A creative writing sideline, which yielded a degree of critical and commercial early success, is struggling to stay afloat. My best friends are miles away, so what little social time I have, "me" time, is literally that - I sit alone in a darkened cinema. And I have become my father, not least in falling asleep on the sofa most evenings when I am too tired to do anything but also just too tired to get up and go to bed properly. On the rare occasion that I look in the mirror I see a greying, balding man with crows feet at his eyes and more salt than pepper in his beard. My first reaction is usually, who are you?

I'm 43 now, a year older than Lester in his introduction. Apart from that, most of what else he says in this clip is pretty much on the money for me, thematically if not in the detail. I do think that maybe he's wrong at the end though - there does come a point when it's too late to get it back. I know - I've been trying and "it" just keeps getting further away.

I'm guessing that most readers of this blog are within five years of me either way, so what do you all think? Am I alone in feeling like this?

Assuming no other last minute delays...

...this will surely be one of the year's must-read books?

I love the way that, even though it is a completely new book, it is being packaged and marketed as a Penguin Classic. Nice touch.

Anyway, assuming no further publishing wrangles or content disagreements, Mozza's long-awaited autobiography can be yours from October the 17th. Amazon are currently touting it for the bargain price of £5.99 so go on - you'd be a fool not to buy one.

Sorry to lower the tone of political discourse but...

...what an absolutely mahoosive bell-end.

Click above to embiggen

Frankly impressive

One of my closest friends once ventured the opinion that my taste in music is parochial. I took umbrage at this, and was quietly hurt. However, she was, of course, correct. I haven't counted but I'd estimate that two thirds of my record collection has one or more of the following names associated with it: Morrissey, Marr, Rossiter, Stipe, Gedge, Weller, Marriott, Townshend, Davies, Smith, Cocker and Yorke. Refined taste, yes. Diverse? Erm...

So what does it take to get me to listen to something beyond those twelve angry men? To be a bit less parochial? Well, it takes something distinctive, something genuine, something engaging. A talent that isn't mass-produced, homogenised, exploited and spun. Something a bit like Nina Baker, maybe?

I've written about Nina before. I interviewed her on this very blog last November, drawing comparisons with early Kate Bush and Tori Amos, amongst others. And I've seen her perform live, and been a tiny bit beguiled by the purity of her voice. All of which is how I came to end up with a preview copy of her forthcoming debut album Quite Frankly sitting on my desk. So, having established that this isn't my usual cup of tea, what do I think?

Quite frankly (see what I did there?), I think it's mightily impressive. I've already mentioned the quality of Nina's voice, and on these thirteen tracks (plus a hidden reprise) it entwines around her piano motifs beautifully. She is ably supported too, with a fuller sound than on previous recordings and when live, augmented as she is here by strings, woodwind, brass and more in addition to her three-piece backing band. There's quite clearly a huge amount of effort made with the (Ronson-influenced) production too, no more so than on lead track Single Bed which seems to have all manner of bells and whistles thrown at it. Make no mistake, it's a standout track and would make an ideal single release, though I personally prefer the simpler version with just Nina and piano. But what do I know, right, haven't we already established that I'm just an old indie-purist curmudgeon?

Even if, like me, you're not Ms Baker's obvious target market, there's still plenty to enjoy here, especially if you pay close attention to the lyrics. If you're the sort of listener who just takes in the overall sound of a record, oblivious to the words, you might think this is an unremittingly upbeat album, seduced by the major key tunes and brightly coloured artwork. But listen closely, and you'll find there's more going on. Most, if not all, of the songs concern relationships - indeed, I have a little theory that if you rearranged the running order slightly you'd have the full story of a relationship from happy beginning, through difficult times, break-up, mourning its passing and finally emerging on the other side, older, wiser and maybe slightly scarred. And on balance, it looks like there were more bad times than good in that relationship - take a look at some of the song titles to see what I mean: Single Bed, Bruising, Little Fibs, Clown, The Price That I Pay, Game You Play, Stupid Mistake... in a relationship context, these are not upbeat titles. I wonder if Nina has been through the wringer at some point?

For me, the standout track here is The Price That I Pay. It's no surprise that this is reprised at the end for the album's hidden track - a hypnotic sojourn into a minor key, here more than ever Nina's voice and piano combine to devastating effect. It's a song that deserves a wide audience. Also worthy of special mention are the Radio 2-friendly balladry of Breaking Every Rule (some lovely strings on here), the Regina Spektor-esque When I'm Not With You, the Ronson-channelling Game You Play and the filmic Stupid Mistake, which surely deserves to be on a soundtrack somewhere, some time.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, you can only admire Nina, whether she's your cup of tea or not. Here's a young girl with genuine talent, singing and playing the piano, writing and co-producing all her own songs, defiantly not chasing the flickering flame offered by X Factor, The Voice and all the rest. She's doing it properly, and the fruits of her labours are there for us all to see and hear on her excellent debut. Bottom line: if you own and like The Kick Inside, there's a good chance there's something for you here too. I don't give star ratings in my reviews, but if I did this would warrant a solid four out of five.

As for me, I'm no less parochial, not really. Those twelve angry men still captivate me like no others. But Nina - yes please. I'll have some of that. And I think there is more, and better, to come too. I just hope she doesn't have to go through the wringer again for inspiration...

Footnote: Nina has been in touch to tell me that Single Bed will be released as a single on the 4th of November, with the album release of Quite Frankly to follow on the 6th of January. It'll be on Resplendent Records, and no doubt available through Amazon, iTunes and the rest. Oh, and since you read this Nina, I hope you appreciated all the tea references...