The trouble with general elections

Unless you are dead from the neck up, it can't have escaped your notice that we're counting down to a general election. Media coverage is already ramping up, with every pale-faced, sweaty-palmed political manoeuvre scrutinised to the n^th degree. Goodness only knows what it will be like by the time the polls open on 7th May.

In the past I've advocated using sites like voteforpolicies.org.uk to help you decide how to cast your vote; basically, this site asks you to choose which election pledges most closely match your views in a number of key policy areas (economy, environment, education, plus some that don't begin with 'e'). At the end of the survey, you're given a breakdown of how your choices match each party, so you might be 22% Conservative, 44% Green, 11% Labour, and so on. Sounds great, doesn't it? I've taken the survey in previous election years and been unsurprised by the results, which probably indicates there's some truth in it. But... There's always a but, isn't there?

You see, I've taken the survey this year and guess what? I'm a little bit of most things (though not BNP at all, fortunately). And I'm not alone; when I checked earlier today, this is how more than half a million responses averaged out:

Policy fit [source]

When I was a kid, back in the Seventies and early Eighties, politics was easy. Yes, the Liberals were floating about but elections were essentially two horse races. You were red or blue. Left or right. Callaghan/Foot/Kinnock or Thatcher. It was straightforward. These days, when I (and everyone else, it seems) is 22% this, 22% that and 22% the other, well, deciding where you put your X is a lot less straightforward. I fully accept how unlikely it is that any single party would completely align with my personal ideology, but none even gets particularly close - there's no majority party in my Vote For Policies result, and I doubt there is in yours either. Is it any wonder, then, when choosing has become so hard, and the electoral canvas is now so broad, that voter turnout falls and falls and falls: the electorate is paralysed with choice. Take a look at this:

Declining turnout [source]

I predict a mild upturn in turnout this time around, not least because half of everyone you meet these days considers themselves an activist. As if sharing a jpeg of some truism (you know, "Bad things are bad", that kind of thing) on Facebook makes you an activist, rather than just, say, a timeline-pollutant. But anyway. A small upturn, probably. But if you're wondering why the turnout at the Scottish referendum was so high (84.59% [source]) compared to UK general election turnouts, as well as being such an emotive issue I would venture it's partly because it was a straight yes/no choice. A two horse race, again.

You can expect more political posts from me over the next few months, I'm afraid, but don't despair, they'll still be heavily outnumbered by posts about music, film, television, books, the usual. I may even get around to writing my own personal manifesto, so you can all decide that you are 22% like me.

All that remains is to link, as I always do when I write about national votes, to the film Election. It's brilliantly funny and comfortably bears repeated viewing... unlike most of our politicians. It gets my vote, et cetera.

Nous sommes tous Charlie, mais...

I'm not sure what I, in my informed yet still inadequately informed position, can meaningfully add to the reams that have been written following events in Paris last week. It's complex, and the more I think about it the harder it becomes to see how a radicalised, extremist minority are ever going to be content playing nicely with a largely secular, social, democratic majority. I don't see a happy ending, is what I'm trying to say. That's depressing, I know, but I can't help it - Marvin the Paranoid Android has nothing on me.

Instead, let me point you to some interesting blogging on the subject, specifically: Tim Footman's immediate reaction on his excellent blog, Cultural Snow, makes a lot of points I would like to make, but more succinctly and in better prose; and Andrew Collins' take, a week on, which has some interesting background on the roots of this most terrible of problems.

Interestingly, it was also Andrew's blog that recommended Windows On The World by Frédéric Beigbeder, a book of astonishing power that I finished reading over Christmas and cannot recommend highly enough. Its post-9/11 theme seems depressingly relevant after Charlie Hebdo and all that followed.

Time travel

Ben Goldacre recently tweeted to the effect that everyone over 40 is the same age. And he's right. What's more, somewhere along the line, I drifted into that category - I got old. But before the passing of time, and all of its sickening crimes, starts making me sad again, let's indulge in a spot of time travel. Go back twenty years or so and this song was on the jukebox in The Jolly Sailor. Whenever I went there with The Man Of Cheese, which was often, we would put this on and, quite often, sing tipsily along with the daft lyrics.

I can't tell you much about The Presidents Of The United States Of America. I can tell you it's my first jam of 2015, a year in which I will attempt to be less parochial by jamming less Morrissey, Smiths, Pixies and Radiohead. I can also tell you I love this song, and that the last minute of the video is solid, well, if not gold then at least bronze. Enjoy.

Humbug-ger

In case I don't post anything else between now and the 25th, this is as close as I will get to glad tidings. Happy Christmas, I suppose.

Stupid girls

Dear slack-jawed yokels. If you are going to be both dumb and crass enough to park your two cars across three parking spaces, please do not get agitated if I roll my eyes at you.

All of which is an excuse for some 90s Shirley...

That was the year that was: 2014

It's mid-December, ergo it must be time for a recap of what's been good this year. NAOTY 2014, if you will (you won't). This is the fourth time I've recapped a year like this (here's 2013, 2012 and 2011) and, taken together, all these reviews really do is demonstrate just how parochial my tastes are (Michelle, in the unlikely event that you're reading this, you were right about that). Anyway, let's get on.

Best album

"Hendra" by Ben Watt - an understated masterpiece, full of beauty and pathos, and tailor-made to appeal to forty-something blokes who have taken to questioning everything, not least their own mortality and that of their loved ones. Features bonus Bernard Butler too.

Honourable mentions: "World Peace Is None Of Your Business" by Morrissey; "Indie Cindy" by Pixies; "Live at Bush Hall" by Martin Rossiter.

Best song

"Silver Snail" by Pixies - it's been so good to have some new material from Black Francis et alia, and I mean it as a compliment when I say this track could comfortably have been from twenty years ago, yet somehow simultaneously shows how the band has moved on. Neat trick.

Honourable mentions: "Heart Is A Drum" by Beck; "I'm Not A Man" by Morrissey.

Best gig

Another nod here for Pixies whose set at Field Day in the summer was almost everything I could have hoped for. Even the undercard was a winner. I wrote (in shorthand) about it at the time.

Honourable mentions: I've had a quiet year, gig-wise, but Ben Watt with Bernard Butler was excellent; Damon Albarn, thunderstruck and lightning-lit at Latitude, will live long in the memory; Morrissey thrilled, despite the enormo-dome setting.

Best book

"Numbskulls" by Mark Kilner. A diverse yet subtly interconnected set of 20 short stories, showcasing the little horrors of modern life: celebrity culture, life alone, Boris Johnson... Here's my longer review from earlier in the year.

Honourable mentions: a bit of a cheat here because it's a couple of years old but I only got around to reading "Dark Matter" by Michelle Paver this year. It's an incredible ghost story, taking isolation to new heights (or depths, perhaps) in the Arctic Circle. I wish I'd written it.

Best film

For a long time I thought "Inside Llewyn Davis" has this nailed on, but the award goes to "Boyhood", Richard Linklater's simple yet incredible document of a boy growing up. Filmed over twelve years, so that all the principals age realistically in front of you, it's a moving tale of modern family life, and all the fractures and disjoints that now involves. At different times this reviewer identified with both the son and the father, which perhaps explains my heightened emotional response. Everyone involved in the making of this film deserves massive credit. Now do yourselves a favour and buy the DVD.

Honourable mentions: as mentioned, the Coen Brothers very nearly scooped this for their incredible meditation on personal failure, "Inside Llewyn Davis"; it takes some absorbing but Richard Ayoade's steampunk reimagining of modern life in Dostoyevsky-adaptation "The Double" is worth persevering with; Benedict Cumberbatch and Keira Knightley both shine in the "The Imitation Game", in which triumph is tempered with tragedy; and I thought Rosamunde Pike was terrific in "Gone Girl".

Best television

As last year, the most fiercely contended category. The award goes to "Fargo", a compelling reimagining of the Coen Brothers' icy world, with standout performances from Martin Freeman, Billy Bob Thornton, Alison Tollman and Colin Hanks. Not just dark, but dark humour too.

Honourable mentions: it's been another good year for TV, so there are lots. BBC crime drama "Happy Valley" (whose botched kidnap plot owes a nod to the Coens too) was outstanding; series two of "The Fall" is great, if inevitably coming up short against series one; the genuine chills of ghost story "Remember Me" can and should be iPlayered right now; and (sort of but more than) comedies "Rev" and "The Trip To Italy" were both very rewarding.

Best comedy

David Baddiel's "Fame: Not The Musical" scoops the gong here. Its meditation on being famous in general and, specifically, not being as famous as you used to be, is very smart indeed. Stand-up, yes... but there's a lot more going on besides.

Honourable mentions: "Modern Life Is Goodish", in which Dave Gorman continues to show his working as he goes along; Alan Davies' Little Victories tour, not least for his candour in talking of mortality and life-limiting conditions (on his father's dementia: "it's not genetic, but it is inherited, so..."); Punt and Dennis's Ploughing On Regardless tour, whose transition from edgy and out-there to comfortable and nearly mainstream is complete - it's taken twenty years, but at least they haven't sacrificed being funny.

Best theatre

"An Evening With Ray Davies", ostensibly to plug his book, "Americana", but the Q&A reached far beyond that. Part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival and in partnership with the city's Writers' Centre, no-one minded at the end when talk of books was set aside, a guitar appeared, and Ray performed an acoustic "Rock and Roll Cowboys". Got an autograph and shook the guy's hand afterwards too.

Honourable mentions: I'm struggling a bit here, because I haven't seen as much on stage this year as I would have liked, but poet Luke Wright was very good at Latitude, bringing a bit of rock'n'roll swagger to the Poetry Tent.

Best blogger

The only person to retain their title from last year is Andrew Collins, whose "Telly Addict" video blog for The Guardian is twelve minutes a week of essential viewing. 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, once more, my blogger of the year.

Honourable mentions: "Too Much Apple Pie" from Kippers and Spike; "The (New) Vinyl Villain" from JC; "My Top Ten" from Rol; "Is This The Life?" from Rob; and "Cultural Snow" from Tim.

Man of the year (new for 2014)

Richard Ayoade for directing The Double, writing Ayoade on Ayoade, being Gadget Man and, most of all, for his role in what would be my interview of the year, if I had such a category, when Krishnan Guru Murthy invited Richard on Channel 4 News.

Honourable mentions: putting aside any political allegiance I might have elsewhere, Gordon Brown deserves a mention, for going out on a high and reminding everyone of the power a principled and passionate politician can have. In my view, the result of the Scottish referendum was in no small part attributable to his eleventh-hour intervention.

Woman of the year (new for 2014)

Professor Alice Roberts, for bringing science to a wider audience without dumbing it down, for her terrific book The Incredible Unlikeliness Of Being, and mostly for taking an implacable stance on creationism and dealing with (the dangers of) creationists on social media.

Honourable mentions: Sadie Jones for writing Fallout and getting The Outcast finally adapted by the BBC; Keira Knightley for her role in The Imitation Game and for posing topless, un-Photoshopped, to highlight and protest the media's obsession with breasts and digital fakery.

Tool of the year (new for 2014)

David Mellor, for his rant at a taxi driver, in which he conclusively revealed himself to be everything we've all suspected for so long.

Honourable mentions: Nigel Farage whose inherent racism, inflammatory pronouncements and general policy void should really scoop him the award - it's just that I don't want him to win anything (and I'm not linking to him either - here's a link to an equally simplistic but opposing view instead); Russell Brand, who hasn't worked out yet that the best way to beat a system, especially a long-established, entrenched system, is from within... and for spouting nonsense: a sprawling and polysyllabic vocabulary is nothing without an underlying degree of sense and reality. Parklife!

And that's it. Agree/disagree? What have you loved and loathed this year?

Remember me but forget my fate

Elvis impersonator, O2 Arena

I was going to review last Saturday's Morrissey gig at the O2 Arena, but there are so many other reviews out there already, I'm not sure what I can meaningfully add. Maybe this is why blogs are dying left, right and centre. When the world is saturated in opinion, what value does one more have?

Anyway, what I will say is that when Mr Morrissey emerged head to toe in white, my first thought (and that of the annoyingly loud gig-commentator behind me) was that all he needed were a few rhinestones and to dye his quiff. Also, Steven, if you're going to open up with The Queen In Dead and Suedehead, well, you're setting the bar pretty bloody high. Unsustainably high, in fact. Lucky for you that the enormo-dome (too big, in my view - I wish I'd taken binoculars) was stuffed to the gills with devoted fans, most of whom were more than happy to listen to tracks from the latest album rather than a greatest hits set.

What else? Well, it's all covered elsewhere: the Royal-baiting backdrops, the Fuck Harvest Records t-shirts, the venue's meat ban, the almost unbearable video accompaniment to Meat Is Murder, the Dido's Lament (not that Dido) quote that gives this post its title... all of it can be found in other reviews online. And look, I've saved you the time it would take to seek them out. Here's what I'd recommend you read if:

a) You don't like Morrissey - The Independent's half-arsed review

b) You like Morrissey a bit too much - Louder Than War's well-written but ultimately rose-tinted eulogy

c) You like Morrissey and have got your Moz-life balance sorted - The Guardian want to like Mozzer, but just can't help themselves with their critical tendencies

I'll leave you with a video clip (not mine - I would have needed a very long lens) in which you can witness the band's sweary t-shirts, the quote and a beautiful rendition of an old Smiths song. Oh, and that dark blue shirt? Got ripped off and thrown into the crowd one song later. Wonder who got it?

Edit this setlist | More Morrissey setlists

An experience shared is an experience doubled

I'm off to see Morrissey at the O2 tomorrow, in that there London. It'll be the sixth time I've seem Moz live and I'm very excited, because his recent album, World Peace Is None Of Your Business, has some great tracks. Here's the standout (for me), I'm Not A Man. Warning: it's slow burn, and takes until 2 minutes 43 to hit its stride. It's worth the wait though.

The excitement is tempered a little, however, and not (just) because the venue is an enormo-dome and I'm right at the back, up in the gods. No, no. This will be my sixth Mozza pilgrimage, but the first without my oldest, greatest friend, The Man Of Cheese. And however good Steven Patrick might be, it just won't be the same. Mate, if you're reading this, you will certainly be much missed. This old chestnut is for you - hopefully tomorrow's will not be the last songs he will ever sing.

Wanderlust

An old school friend posted his travel map on Facebook. He's well travelled, and I felt inspired to make mine.

I am not well travelled.

Martin has been to: Andorra, Australia, Austria, Belgium, Bulgaria, Canada, Denmark, France, Germany, Guernsey, Ireland, Italy, Japan, Jersey, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, Malta, Netherlands, Portugal, Singapore, Spain, Switzerland, United Kingdom, United States, Vatican. Get your own travel map from Matador Network.

Not that it would change how the map looks, but my country count would at least be healthier if they considered England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland as separate countries.

Anyway... dear Father Christmas. All I would like this year, please, is three return flights to New Zealand. I have been a good(ish) boy, and will leave a mince pie out for you (plus carrot for Rudolph) in exchange for the aforementioned tickets. Many thanks and keep up the good work, Martin.

Order! Order!

I went to Parliament yesterday for a meeting. No, DC is not suddenly seeking my views on how to win over an increasingly disenfranchised electorate. It was a work thing involving a company who are a Crown supplier and so were able to get sponsorship from an MP to hold their meeting there.

After the meeting had finished, I thought, "Well, how often am I going to be here? Might as well have a look around." After nearly bumping into David Blunkett, I ended up in the queue to sit in the Commons public gallery. Now Wednesday is Opposition Day in the Commons, which means the subjects debated are chosen by the Opposition. The debate I watched was on the performance of the economy, proposed by, amongst others, Edwards Miliband and Balls (though neither put in an appearance, as far as I can tell). In fact, the debate was opened by the Shadow Chief Secretary to the Treasury, Chris Leslie. The Exchequer Secretary to the Treasury, Priti Patel, responded on behalf of the Government. So no Osborne either.

Anyway, if you're interested you can watch the debate here and of course the whole thing is written up in Hansard.

So what observations can I add? Well, I joined the debate partway through, by which time the already sparse population of MPs had thinned still further. A good proportion (at least a fifth) of those that remained were on their mobile phones the whole time. I can't be sure (because you're not allowed to take binoculars into the public gallery) but from the way they were mostly stabbing and swiping at the screen, I'd guess that most of them were either checking email or tweeting. In my view, that's pretty slack at best, and disrespectful to those speaking, not to mention those they represent.

Oh, and whilst MPs can batter away at their mobiles in the Commons, the public have to leave their phones outside the gallery. Odd.

What else? Parliament is full of flat-screen TVs. They come in pairs, one with a green screen, one with a red screen. These detail what is going on at that moment in the Commons and Lords respectively. And in the Commons itself, more flat-screens display who is speaking and their constituency, whilst still more display the time and a countdown timer for the speeches (yesterday there was a six minute limit in force on back-bencher speeches).

What I can also tell you is that the whole experience left me wishing I'd been more politically involved as a younger man, because it's probably a bit late now to start trying to be an MP, not least because I'd have to align myself with a mainstream political party, none of which fits me very well.

And if you're concerned that all the above might lead to this blog becoming more political... well, it might. Certainly I've been having internal monologues for some time along the lines of "what I'd do if I ran the country?" And what's that if not a manifesto? But rest assured, I'll try to keep it in check. You might get the manifesto, sometime, but you'll still get the observations, the TV/film/book reviews, the music and the Clandestine Classics. It's just that if I ever enter the world of politics, at any level, you can probably expect to read about it...

P.S. If you can be bothered with going through the security checks, Parliament has a nice café with free wi-fi too.