Fred

Fred has redesigned. I feel like a real blogger now, mentioning that. But the real reason you should visit today is to read his fine review of the new XTC album, before it gets buried under a heap of shall-I-put-my-photos-up-or-not stuff!

Napster Killed My Record Store

Napster Killed My Record Store: (link pirated from My Science Project, who will no doubt be pleased with the eels/Mogwai result). Anyway, a record store blames Napster for plummeting sales. As I’ve said before, my own purchasing habits have changed only in focus, not quantity, since I got the MP3 habit. But then I try to use MP3s in a half-assed ‘ethical’ manner anyway.

I do think record shops, particularly small ones, will be hit badly by the change in technology - I think they’ll suffer more than artists, and I’m sadder about that too. What can be done? Almost precisely nothing.

THE SUGARCUBES - “Deus”

THE SUGARCUBES - “Deus” (brief review inspired by Prol)
“Deus” was the first Sugarcubes song I ever heard. It’s still my favourite: back then I could get off on the strangeness of it without realising that ’strangeness’ was the group’s only point. That was true of a lot of 80s indie groups - they had a sound and worked it, and if you weren’t totally sold on the sound you might like one or two songs, and if you were your only option would be worship. I think that’s a reason the 80s feel so interesting but maybe really weren’t, because of all those groups - the Sugarcubes, the Cocteaus, and so on - ploughing their own very separate furrows. But they were furrows all the same, and another word for furrow is rut.

Anyway, the main reason I liked “Deus” wasn’t Bjork’s voice, which leapt about the track like a bug under a glass and even then kind of annoyed me: the reason was Einar Orn, whose smart, quizzical, thickly accented vocals drew me right into the track and kept me smiling. “He just had sideburns…and a quiff!” says the man, after meeting God. Bjork can have her millions and her Cannes prizes - she was always more chic, but Einar was always more cool. Which is important.

The Scottish Jazz Scam:

The Scottish Jazz Scam: “It’s at times like this that it’s hard to believe that, at one time, jazz was all about freedom and joy writ large and true. Dominated by a dreary, unimaginative clique, it’s dying on its feet.” - great article by David Keenan about the aesthetic and economic deficiencies in Arts Council funding for new music. From the website of my favourite indie label.

Salon.com business | Seven days in May: Britney Spears does it again!

Salon.com business | Seven days in May: Britney Spears does it again! “I’m pretty sure 12-year old girls who buy Britney will buy Eminem,” - interesting and witty report from the heart of chartland, courtesy of Salon. If Britney fans do buy The Marshall Mathers Album, they’re likely to get a shock: “Kim”, from that LP, is one of the most effectively nasty things I’ve ever heard, putting anything I’ve come across by shockmavens like Nick Cave or Lydia Lunch into the shade, and 1.4 million people will be buying it this week alone. Is it good? I’ve no idea, but it’s been a good couple of years since I’ve been so reluctant to even play a track again for non directly-aesthetic reasons…

This

This is a beautiful project (now apparently defunct, alas) - somebody who actually buys all those 7″ singles you see in Rough Trade and then reviews all of them. Fascinating stuff with scanned-in covers too.

DUEL!

DUEL!: today it’s Beth Orton vs The Charlatans. And I’ve loads of proper links’n’songs to blog later on, too.

THE JOHN SPENCER BLUES EXPLOSION

THE JOHN SPENCER BLUES EXPLOSION

One of the most misleading names of all time. There is no explosion whatsoever in this blandly offensive music, unless you count having your thoughts of exactly how terrible music can be exploded.

It is a music of the past, a sad little affair that combines a watered down version of what claims to be the “blues” with noisy guitars. Instead of energy, they give off an air of smug self satisfaction, too lazy to innovate or even have the slightest spark of life: a tired little pantomime of shouting about having soul, etc. All of which gives off the air that the band find all of this slightly amusing, thinking that the blues and soul they sing about and attempt to play something of a kitschy fashion accessory that wins them cred with their new york scenester friends. About the most adventurous the music ever got was the remix album, and JSBE got that idea about 7 years after the most mainstream and pedestrian of musicians had done it. John and the boys are far too self conscious a band to actually try anything new, so they’re happy to rip off the same influences empty album after empty album after empty album. Their music is like a fashion magazine layout, where some pouty model in a fur coat strutting down a dirty street in the ghetto is supposed to look edgy and dangerous. You don’t know whether to laugh at how stupid they look or just spit in their faces in disgust.

And then there’s the matter of sexiness, which the more mentally challenged critics seem to bring up when talking about JSBE’s music. How in the hell any person who hasn’t had Clockwork Orange-style shock therapy could find this music sexy is beyond me. John might be slightly good looking (by indie standards anyway, so for a normal human being he barely grazes average), but in such a poseur way that it’s more repulsive than seductive. I get the feeling he gets squeamish just thinking about having to muss his hair up doing the deed. And Russell looks like a muppet with an overactive thyroid gland.

The name Wussy Galore would have suited them far better.