Posts from 3rd May 2002

May 02

LATA MANGESHKAR – “Zamana Yeh Samhja Ke Hum Pi Ke Aaye”

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LATA MANGESHKAR – “Zamana Yeh Samhja Ke Hum Pi Ke Aaye”

Now as you may have noticed questions of authenticity and the circumstances surrounding the making of records don’t really bug me much. Head for ILM and nose around if you want the theoretical justifications for this, because the topic’s always bubbling away on some thread or other – but the upshot is that I didn’t care whether Milli Vanilli were miming, I don’t care whether the Neptunes use live instruments or dead ones, and if Donna Summer really was playing hide-the-studio-sausage on “Love To Love You Baby” it’s no business of mine.

However here I am struggling against willpower, stress and time to get my packing done, and all I’m thinking while this soothing, delicate (and in my current fraught state, essential) song is playing is – “Are those real hiccups?”

More from the FT archives

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More from the FT archives – and we’re only on the letter ‘D’. (A couple of pieces seem to be unformattable and I’ll try and find some other way of uploading them, too). Rescued from limbo today we have:

Layo and Bushwacka‘s Low Life reviewed by Tim Finney, a piece which was for a long-time the least read thing on the entire site. (I think it got about forty hits!) That’s no reflection on its merits.
My car boot sale odyssey, one of the best things I wrote in the early days of FT.
The Chemical Brothers’ Surrender reviewed by me.
D’Angelo’s Voodoo reviewed by Fred Solinger as part of our long-ago Love Issue. I can’t remember whether Fred or I was responsible for the godawful Magma pun that serves as a headline.

Is it bollocks.

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Is it bollocks. ‘Tacky, camp and glamorous, ‘Sunglasses At Night’ is the perfect antidote to dad house, flu rock, ‘Pop Idol’ and every other blight on the current pop landscape.’ Or so says NME.

Spurred on by similar reviews published in the so-called popular press, I listened to this on the listening post at a well-known Megastore near me (and probably near you too). I found it to be a load of retro toss. And given that what Mr NME calls ‘dad rock’ and ‘flu rock’, let alone Pop Idol, are regularly berated for being similarly mired in the past, how can this be an antidote? Trying to live in one past moment rather than another is still trying to live in the sodding past.

(I also listened to and then bought the Tweet single, in case you’re wondering. It’s nearly as good as what people are saying about it.)

(Wahey! I posted something NOT from Ananova!)

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(Wahey! I posted something NOT from Ananova!)

If the world of the

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If the world of the Dudley Corporation is currently a lonely one then THEY SHOULD NOT YET DESPAIR! For the power of my subconcious has come to save them!!! The Corpo, you see, have saved my faith in rock music many a time! In a world where the rockists are allowed to churn out nonsense on Pitchfork all day long about cockfarming post rock (like postal chess but louder) and the two rock choices are between Endless Noise and US Punk Pop, the Corpo make a REFRESHING CHANGE. Like going into a beer garden instead of the back room. And ordering a GIN and FANTA LIMON with swizzle stick instead of a Pint of the The Usual. In a sticky glass. Urgh. But a bit less GURLY obv.

Ah yes but anyway where was I? Oh yes, they will not be lonely because WORD CAME TO ME IN A DREAM!!! In this dream, I passed through a wonderful vista of the streets of North London on a double decker red bus and my destination was to a Dudley Corporation musical gathering. There would be the squiggly guitars and the wickedfast basslines and the BEST DRUMMING EVAH, what more do you need for a rock experience? Venue? An indoor tennis court! I see bassist Pip doctoring his low frequencies on the sidelines. I wave, go over and LIKE A MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL PITCHER, he throws me a beer! Quality! I then rock over to see guitar hero Dudley and punk rock drummer Joss. Joss drums like a BANG CRASH MONKEY HERO! But in my dream he is a professional marathon runner and is wearing a SWEATBAND on his head!! Hee, he looked funny. We do a bit of idle chit chat and then the Arsemonkey tells me she is bored and wants to go home. So we rock back home and then switch the telly on and what do we see?? The Corpo! Playing the Royal Festival Hall! To A CAST OF THOUSANDS! All cheering like wot the great unwashed are liable to do. Hoorah!!! I put forward that this is not at all being lonely but instead it is being ROCKSTARS!!! Yay!

And then someone threw a cucumber on stage. It is obviously phallic.

I love the Dudleys. It’s rock but not rockist, it’s pop but they don’t wear spangly S Club FroXoR (although if they did they would be best band EVAH maybe even better than KATE BUSH). The noise from the GEETAR and the intricate COMPLEXITY makes everything they do a WINNAH – and even when they slow it down I have been known to break my ‘Oh No, Not The Ballad’ rule and let them rock the melancholy acoustical tree hugging HIPPY RUBBIDGE. Because they can actually do it quite well due to lashings of very dark humour which drop kick them out of the ditch of mediocrity like 3 meng on new fangled FLYING MACHINES.

(9/10, obv. Get Kate Bush on backing vocals, 10/10.)