Posts from 18th December 2000

Dec 00

It’s the most talked-about feature on Freaky Trigger

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It’s the most talked-about feature on Freaky Trigger: Am I Cool Or Not? is back with its fourth brave/vain/idiotic/delete-as-neccessary pop kid for you to analyse, taste-wise. I’ll sort out the archives soon for latecomers.

ADVENT CALENAR OF FILTH 8: ROY WOOD & WIZZARD – I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday

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8: ROY WOOD & WIZZARD – I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday

The archetypal Christmas song in both its lack of any redeeming features and nonsensical lyrics. Shall we start with the non-philosophical problems here?

“When the snowman brings the snow”

Yeah, okay. “When the Milkman brings the milk”, that would make sense. It was the early seventies so I guess you could have had “When the Coal man brings the coal”. Problem is there is little market in selling snow, even at the most festive of times. Its gosh darned difficult to store, its market value is relatively low for the storage costs and what fool is going to buy what they can get for free if the atmospheric conditions are right. And anyway, Snowmen are made of snow, they don’t bring the snow. It would be like saying, “When the blood and flesh man brings the gore”. Imagine Aled Jones singing about some snowman that kept on divesting his body everywhere. Then jumping back into his electrically power Snow Float and rattling down the street delivering bottles of snow to everyone. White, powdery residue everywhere – perhaps this is what Roy Wood meant, being off his tits on cocaine.

Before we get to the philosophical crutch of this argument we should digress at least briefly to look at the figure of Roy Wood. Not since a certain God of Hellfire, and not until Kiss had such half arsed face paint been applied to a fella. He must of scared the bejeasus out of all the little kids watching television. It was enough to scare you off of the entire concept of Christmas, let alone it occuring everyday.

And there you have it. Roy Wood is actually an enemy of Christmas. For if we had Christmas everyday, the holiday would no longer be special. You’d have to get really longlife Christams trees too. But what is by far and away worse is that Mr Wood is actually an enemy of mankind. Think: if it was Christmas everyday, it would be a holiday. So no-one would go to work. Foodstuff would stop being produced (especially because the weather would be inclement, what with that snowman bringing his snow and all). The police would all be on double time, but who would be paying them? No-one is working, manufacturing industry has ground to a halt – no taxation. Capitalism would fall apart, govvernments crumble – leading in anarchy.

With a badly face painted Roy Wood at the helm. And his badly spelt Wizzard. Let us thank god it is not Christmas everyday. And banish Roy Wood to the deepest pit of hell, the one where all enemies of mankind go. Along with Hitler, Pol Pot and Jimi Hendrix.

Before Tom gets on to the Pub Of Failure

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Before Tom gets on to the Pub Of Failure, here is some information sent in by friend of the site Alex Thompson on the mystery of the Blue Posts name. (I rather like the sedan chair hailing stop explaination which I have a terrible feeling I may have invented myself a couple of years back). Alex is supposed to be in town this Friday when we attempt the BP summit again. If anyone else is interested in joining us for a pre-Christmas Publog pub crawl – e-mail me. Be warned, we will be operating the Weakest Link pub crawl rules. Anyway, over to Alex.

“Two Blue Posts facts gleaned from the internet yesterday. There do appear to be a lot of Blue Posts pubs in the rest of England, so the explanation is reasonably credible. I should have better things to do, frankly. Oh arse, I do… Alex

From the entry on “British Pub signs” in Prof. Albert Harbottle’s Encycoclopaedia [sic] of Brilliant Things.

Some are obviously related to their location; The Railway, The Bowling Green, The Ship etc. There are four pubs in Soho, London called The Blue Posts; blue posts used to mark the extreme edges of the hunting area, for
which Soho was used before it became built-up

According to the Fierce Panda website the label was founded in a pub called the Blue Post on Tottenham Court Road which has since been knocked down and replaced with a Boots.

Can I urge everyone (this is Pete again by the way) to look at the Fierce Panda pubs as they seem thoroughly good choices (especially The Village in Walthamstow). I remember the Blue Posts on Tottenham Court Road and a sleezier, more unpleasant pub you could not imagine. It looked a bit like a Wild West Saloon after the brawl – if you get my drift.

More end of year lists.

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More end of year lists. The Onion’s A.V.Club is always an interesting read, though with such a high-brow and snobbist tendancy that you certainly would not take anything they say without a pinch of salt. That said, they do revel in talking about bad things. After last years list of the Least Essential Albums of the 90’s (the MC Skat Cat album winning hands down) they have reprised this project for albums of 2000. Winner is the A*Teen’s album of ABBA covers – though the journey takes us through two S Club 7 albums (harsh) and a Pearl Jam live set (not harsh enough). The S Club 7 piece actually appears to show a grudging like to the material – could it be the Onion are going pop?

Ah, well no quite obviously they are not – if you look at their staff’s individual albums of 2000. I say the word individual but they have obviously been given a few ground rules. They must perm Sleater-Kinney, Eminem, Radiohead, Lambchop and PJ Harvey (making sure that Harvey generally does the best). The rest they can pick freely, but must include at least one Undie act and something on the Mercury Music Prize shortlist. Oddly the preamble for the lists suggests the very opposite of what the Freaky Trigger feeling has been (at least mine and Tom’s) that this year has been much more interesting in film than in music. That may well be due to release schedules over here staggering the good 1999 in the States into a very good March over here. I find the idea of Clint Mansell doing a musique-concrete soundtrack to Requiem For A Dream most intriguing anyhow – which nicely crosses over the two disciplines.

That said – anyone who says that “Whatever you do you must seek out Yellow by Coldplay” is not cutting my critical mustard. Interesting lists nevertheless – and well worth doing a reverse “Am I Cool Or Not” to – what does a fella who likes Aimee Mann and Black Eyed Peas look like? Anyway, the original question is worth asking over in I Love Music. What do you think is the most inessential album of the year?

Drinking Beer May Protect You From Cataracts

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Drinking Beer May Protect You From Cataracts. Of course drinking beer also has many other amazing health benefits as reported by the press in the last two years. Red wine reduces the chance of heart disease, breast cancer and cider prevents you from getting any mates.

Whither this kind of silly season story? Its simple, journalists are inveterate boozers (as the number of half decent pubs in the previous press hinterland of Fleet Street show). So any whiff of a “beer is good for you” story is jumped upon like the Holy Grail – considering that – like most people journalists have probably come across the equally strong argument that beer is not good for you. And that’s an argument coming right from their booze soaked, hungover bodies the morning afterwards.

We live in a society which wishes to justify its vices. I say fie to this. Our vices are vices because they are bad for us. Yes, beer destroys your liver, whittles down the brain cells and dramatically increases the chance of serious injury on the way home. But drinking is also fun, the only normal way into a relationship and produces the finest conversation known to man. Surely this is an end in itself?

I am a bit narked with the estimable

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I am a bit narked with the estimable DJ Martian (archives not working so you’ll have to scroll down). First of all he hypes his end-of-year list on the forum about five lengthy times and then doesn’t get it up, but more importantly he posts a long screed about how people who don’t do end-of-year album lists are pussies who are afraid of putting their “online reputations” at risk after witnessing the savaging meted out to Pitchfork’s e-o-y round-up.

Now, for one thing I would be surprised and disappointed if anyone at Pitchfork gives an eighth of a shit about what any of us think of their albums list. But the main point to make is this: not doing an end-of-year list does not mean you’re failing to uphold your reputation online (whatever that is!) or that you must like tedious Q music. Lists in and of themselves are boring – most people present theirs with only the barest smidgen of commentary and the impression is they’re doing it out of mistaken duty or simply to show off.

Meanwhile if somebody hasn’t heard much that’s grabbed their ear in a year on album format then they may simply have higher standards than the people who can list fifty albums without breaking a sweat. Or they may have found that the stuff going on in their lives hasn’t meshed with the music in a way which means connections have got made – and I think that’s more interesting, writing about that kind of context, than just listing a load of records.

As for me, I’m doing what I’ve done since 1998 – a rundown of musical moments, which generally means individual tracks. Given my track-at-a-time preferences doing album lists has seemed hypocritical for a while now, and I’m gratified to find that wider culture has caught up with me and is wisely shunning the limiting album-rundown format and greedily hoovering up fantastic songs, tracks, and fragments of musical jetsam from a hard drive near you. (My personal selection is more commercial and pop-based than it has been before, but that’s a different aesthetic bone to pick.)