Friday, 19 August 2022

Too new to be named

You've probably seen this before, being the articulate, well-read, well-versed consumers of all things pop-cultural that you are. But I'm going to post it anyway, because I love it. This is the first TV appearance anywhere, ever, for R.E.M. on Letterman, all the way back in October 1983.

They run through Radio Free Europe first, then, after a brief interview by Dave in which Peter and Mike do all the answering whilst Michael sits out of shot, they run through a new song, as yet untitled. "Too new to be named," quips Dave. It turns out to be So. Central Rain and is so new that Peter fluffs a chord change about 70 seconds into it.

Anyway, the picture quality isn't great but I love this. The sound has been cleaned up, at least. I think what I like most about the clip though is the interview section in the middle. Peter and Mike seem bright and alert, quick to answer, innocent and keen ... at this stage they have not already been asked every question you can possibly imagine a thousand times over. Oh to be young and excited and looking forwards...

Thursday, 18 August 2022

Twenty-two in '22: I, Partridge

I've set myself modest reading targets in each of the last three years and failed every time (I managed 17 books in '19, 11 in '20 and 18 in '21), so I'm determined to read twenty two books in 2022. I'll review them all here.

I, Partridge by Alan Partridge

9/22: I, Partridge: We Need to Talk About Alan by Alan Partridge

The blurb:

Journalist, presenter, broadcaster, husband, father, vigorous all-rounder: Alan Partridge. Star of action blockbuster Alpha Papa; a man with a fascinating past and an amazing future.

Gregarious and popular, yet Alan’s never happier than when relaxing in his own five-bedroom, south-built house with three acres of land and access to a private stream. But who is this mysterious enigma?

Alan Gordon Partridge is the best – and best-loved – radio presenter in the region. Born into a changing world of rationing, Teddy Boys, apes in space and the launch of ITV, Alan’s broadcasting career began as chief DJ of Radio Smile at St. Luke’s Hospital in Norwich. After replacing Peter Flint as the presenter of Scout About, he entered the top 8 of BBC sports presenters.

But Alan’s big break came with his primetime BBC chat show Knowing Me, Knowing You. Sadly, the show battled against poor scheduling, having been put up against News at Ten, then in its heyday. Due to declining ratings, a single catastrophic hitch (the killing of a guest on air) and the dumbing down of network TV, Alan’s show was cancelled. Not to be dissuaded, he embraced this opportunity to wind up his production company, leave London and fulfil a lifelong ambition to return to his roots in local radio.

Now single, Alan is an intensely private man but he opens up, for the second time, in this candid, entertaining, often deeply emotional – and of course compelling – memoir, written entirely in his own words. (Alan quickly dispelled the idea of using a ghost writer. With a grade B English Language O-Level, he knew he was up to the task.)

He speaks touchingly about his tragic Toblerone addiction, and the painful moment when unsold copies of his first autobiography, Bouncing Back, were pulped like ‘word porridge’. He reveals all about his relationship with his ex-Ukrainian girlfriend, Sonja, with whom he had sex at least twice a day, and the truth about the thick people who make key decisions at the BBC.

A literary tour de force, I, Partridge: We Need to Talk About Alan charts the incredible journey of one of our greatest broadcasters.

The review: first things first, this isn't actually written by Alan Partridge, what with him being - spoiler alert - a fictional construct. Rather, this has been penned by long-time Partridge writers Neil and Rob Gibbons, with Armando Iannucci and Steve Coogan. So you're in safe hands.

Next, of course, is the fact that this is a parody of a memoir, in the same way that Partridge himself is a parody of ... well, so many failed media types, and latterly/inadvertently Richard Madeley. The book is basically a comedic pastiche of awful celebrity memoirs, the sort that flood the shelves of Waterstone's and W H Smith in the run-up to Christmas. And the writing is good enough that it works on that level, as you would expect from these authors. But - and it's a reasonably sized but - it only really works if the reader is sufficiently well versed in Alan's backstory.

This is because, as you would imagine, Alan is a terrifically unreliable narrator. There is much humour to be had, then, from Alan's self-serving recollections of events with the version of those same events that you are already familiar with from On The Hour, The Day Today, KMKY, I'm Alan Partridge, and so on. The comedy comes, not from the events themselves, but from Alan's after-the-event reinterpretations that, coincidentally always paint him in a good light ... needless to say, in his version Alan nearly always has the last laugh.

Another fine source of humour is delivered by Alan's repeated attempts to show how little certain past events have upset or stayed with him, only for the subtext to reveal otherwise.

I would say it's all here but it isn't: the events of Alpha Papa are not covered (despite what the blurb suggests), and it's not up-to-date enough to cover This Time either. That said, pretty much everything else that has seen Coogan as Partridge, on radio or TV, gets woven neatly into the story; there's a fine line to be trodden here between touching on past output and rehashing too much, so I'm pleased to report that the authors get the balance pretty much bang on throughout.

Of course, riffing on past output is both the book's greatest strength and biggest weakness. Fans will delight in the details, congratulate themselves on picking up references and laugh again as favourite moments from Alan's past get the memoir treatment. However, if you are not a consumer of all things Partridge, well, you're going to struggle a bit, aren't you? For you, it's just made-up nonsense about a made-up person.

The bottom line: a well-constructed and genuinely funny read for existing Partridge aficionados, but understandably unlikely to win over any new fans.

Since everything online is rated these days: ★★★★☆☆

Wednesday, 17 August 2022

Rain

Finally, enough rain to top up the water butts, if not to get excited about. Here's an of-its-time (1991) nearly-hit from Rain: Lemonstone Desired.

Next, a song superficially about rain, from contemporaries of Rain (although this was from some time later): When It Rains by The Real People.

And I've posted it before but finally, Rain - a song that would be many bands' highpoint but that this lot could throw out as a B-side.

Enjoy the rain. Avoid areas that flood. And at the risk of, ahem, raining on anyone's parade, remember this year's messed-up weather, the hot and the wet, is all down to anthropogenic climate change.

You just don't like people

A wee while ago, after I had offered up a harsh but (in my view) justified opinion of someone, Mrs Amusements, perhaps feeling that I had been unkind, frustratedly declared, "Well, you just don't like people."

This stung a bit, at the time, but on reflection I think she may be right. I have always been colossally intolerant; indeed, The Man Of Cheese and I used to light-heartedly call ourselves The Intolerance Twins. But I think it goes beyond that; maybe I am just not very nice.

Yesterday I was not very nice, and to someone who deserves all the niceness in the world. To compound it all, I'm now going to upset the blogosphere by embedding a track by SPM. I would say sorry but, as I think we have already established, I'm not very nice.

Tuesday, 16 August 2022

Film '82: The Thing

Saw this on Twitter and it made me smile, and marvel at the talent of people. Obviously I retweeted it, but I'm not what you'd call an influencer, and I don't have a great number of engaged followers. Whatever. I thought I'd post it here, only in part so I can always find it again...

Saturday, 13 August 2022

Great moments in music video history #5: Come Into My World

This is from 2002, around the time I used to refer to Kylie as "the future wife". As well as delusional, this didn't go down too well with my partner at the time, now ex. Anyway, here are multiple Kylies - just what we need in these unbearably hot and indescribably grim days.

It's not just Kylie that multiplies, of course. Half the fun of this video is seeing everything in the background replicate too. As such it bears repeat viewing - that's what I told the ex anyway...

Friday, 12 August 2022

Blue Friday: Benson, Arizona

From the title sequence of John Carpenter and Dan O'Bannon's budget debut, Dark Star:

A million suns shine down but I see only one
When I think I'm over you I find I've just begun
The years move faster than the days, there's no warmth in the light
How I miss those desert skies, your cool touch in the night...

Wednesday, 10 August 2022

...and away

Fundació Joan Miró

I've been away. I'm back for a while, maybe not for long. So here's a time-based photograph from my spell away.

Police Municipale building

Wednesday, 27 July 2022

Separated at birth X - Gaten Matarazzo and Micky Dolenz

Gaten MatarazzoGaten MatarazzoHaven't done one of these for an absolute age, but it struck me recently that Stranger Things star Gaten Matarazzo, left, would be a shoo-in to play the young Micky Dolenz, right, should anyone ever get around to making a Monkees biopic... got to happen eventually, right? I'd watch it.

Speaking of Monkees biopics, if you haven't seen the B&W video on YouTube of Davy, Peter, Micky and Mike's pre-casting screen tests, you really should (stick with it, it's not all silent).

Tuesday, 26 July 2022

Twenty-two in '22: Boy About Town

I've set myself modest reading targets in each of the last three years and failed every time (I managed 17 books in '19, 11 in '20 and 18 in '21), so I'm determined to read twenty two books in 2022. I'll review them all here.

Boy About Town by Tony Fletcher

8/22: Boy About Town by Tony Fletcher

The blurb:

As a boy, Tony Fletcher frequently felt out of place. Yet somehow he secured a ringside seat for one of the most creative periods in British cultural history.

Boy About Town tells the story of the bestselling author’s formative years in the pre- and post-punk music scenes of London, counting down, from fifty to number one: attendance at seminal gigs and encounters with musical heroes; schoolboy projects that became national success stories; the style culture of punks, mods and skinheads and the tribal violence that enveloped them; life as a latchkey kid in a single-parent household; weekends on the football terraces in a quest for street credibility; and the teenage boy’s unending obsession with losing his virginity.

Featuring a vibrant cast of supporting characters (from school friends to rock stars), and built up from notebooks, diaries, interviews, letters, and issues of his now legendary fanzine Jamming!, Boy About Town is an evocative, bittersweet, amusing and wholly original account of growing up and coming of age in the glory days of the 1970s.

The review: this book was passed to me by The Man Of Cheese; he attached a note that observed "Some parts of this struck a chord with out younger (and finer!) years." And that's all the review really needs to say, for whilst this is Tony Fletcher's memoir, the joy in reading it comes from recognition and identification. Okay, Tony is six or so years older than TMOC and myself, so the bands and scenes discussed in Boy About Town don't align exactly with those that we enjoyed in our youth but the feelings, the interests, the passions - they are pretty much identical. Reading this book, then, gives Proustian rush after Proustian rush.

For someone more famed for writing highly regarded rock biographies, Fletcher still hits the mark writing about himself. There is a blunt honesty in his recollections of youth and teenage years - no sugar-coating, no sanitising. This book is all the better for it. And of course we can all identify with falling in love with bands - The Who first, for Tony, and then The Jam. That feeling of them being your band - we've all been there, haven't we? (Who am I kidding - I'm still there).

What distinguishes Fletcher's memoir, indeed sets it apart from other "my youth in fandom" books, is the turn his young life took when he decided to start a fanzine. It's easy, now, to think of fanzines as little more than A4 photocopied blogs, but they were so much more important then, when the music press was so narrow, and other exposure (TV and radio) narrower still. Tony started Jamming! at 13, running off a hundred copies on a school mimeograph. By the time it wound up, Jamming! sold 30,000 copies a month. Incredible.

What's even more incredible is the access the young Fletcher got to his heroes. He met Keith Moon, interviewed Pete Townshend. And then there was Paul - an exchange of letters led to friendship with Weller, and the sort of access to the band that saw Fletcher and his mates hanging out at the recording studio with the band, even hearing new material before the mainstream music press. And as a thirteen year old fanzine editor, routinely finding his way backstage at all manner of gigs, in all manner of venues - again, incredible. An astonishing time to be a music fan. Oh, and a parallel thread tells of the author's aspirations with his own band - he was a very busy young man.

For all the amazing experiences Fletcher has growing up in the seventies, the more mundane or regular aspects of his teen life are also captured - football, school, girls, parties, drinking and smoking, fighting, all of it. I rather suspect this will appeal to male readers more than female, but it's all relatable, and harkens back to a simpler, happier time. I loved reading it, even though it also made me feel old, stale and well past my prime.

As I hinted earlier, Fletcher went on from his fanzine beginnings to establish a career writing, including pretty much definitive works on Keith Moon and REM. He also (eventually) had minor success with his band, Apocalypse, enough to warrant a "best of" from Cherry Red some years later. My only real criticism of this book then is that it leaves unfinished business, ending as it does with Fletcher playing a valedictory gig at his school as he finishes the fifth form, and then finally getting laid at a party. But there's more I want to know - how did Jamming! go on to get so big, for starters? What happened with the independent record label he set up and ran with/for Paul Weller? And how did Apocalypse go from playing pubs and a school hall to releasing singles? All that and more. I guess what I'm saying is, I enjoyed Boy About Town so much, I'm ready for volume two.

The bottom line: a very enjoyable read that is equal parts nostalgia-inducing memoir and first-hand account of a fascinating time in modern music - bring on the next instalment!

Since everything online is rated these days: ★★★★★☆

Footnote: you can read more about Tony, his books and the history of Jamming! at his Substack plus, after not quite breaking through with Apocalypse, he's making music again, as part of The Dear Boys. Yes, he remains that much of a Moon fan...