Weekending in Somerset

I spent the weekend at a wedding in Somerset, and I think a good time was had by all. I had a good time, at least. Due to a lack of funds and available rooms, I camped behind a pub that was also hosting a beer festival. The Wurzels were headlining, and the real ale was flowing.
I also thought you might like to know my top ten tunes from last week:
10. My Drive Thru by NERD, Santogold and Julian Casablancas
Hipster trio take the money and run. It's basically an advert for Converse, and sounds like a less good Beck, Prince and MIA.
9. When I Grow Up by the Pussycat Dolls
I can't decide whether I despise this or rather like it.
8. Last Train to Transcentral by the KLF
For some reason I NEEDED to listen to the KLF, so went back to the future (1990) for one of their less loved "other" singles.
7. Reinforcements by Sparks
I've been flicking through my vinyl a lot, and re-discovered this camp pop gem.
6. The Things That Dreams Are Made Of by The Human League
Re-discovered from another vinyl flick.
5. Come Into My World by Kylie Minogue
X doesn't do it for me. Sorry, Kylie. But this is amazing. Especially the Michel Gondry video.
4. Over the Ice by The Field
After watching The Field at Field Day last weekend, I re-discovered this track. It's like Steve Reich goes commercial.
3. ICA Lappis by Action Biker
I've said it before - absolutely lovely.
2. So What by Pink
New single, which leaked early and rapidly around the internets. And it's brilliant. Pink's been responsible for some utter crap (God is a DJ etc) but this divorce kiss-off is utterly brilliant.
1. Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush
Ended up here through a daisy chain because The Field sampled Kate's Cloudbusting. (I love Kate Bush so much that we're on first name terms.) Spent a bit of time comparing the original Wuthering Heights vocal with the re-recorded one, and generally thinking "argh, this is amazing! And she was only 19! Take that, Adele/Kate Nash!"

And, for a post-script, here are some wedding snaps:

Trendspotting: shiny short shorts

I've noticed a trend in the music videos of 2008. Teeny-weeny shiny, shiny shorts and bikini tops! Is this thanks to American Apparel? It's a budget-conscious way for stylists to inject some so-called glamour.
In the video for Because The Night, Cascada catches the attention of a buff rocker (I know he's a rocker because of his leather jacket, and his friend is holding some drumsticks). Obviously, her shiny bikini top and pants plus black corset combo helped.

Cheryl Tweedycole favours the shiny boob tube in Will.I.Am's Heartbreaker. The hoodie makes it really urban, no?

The lame (as in la-may, I can't figure out how to add accents in HTML) invasion continues in Blackout Crew's Put A Donk On It, a choon so terrible it makes me whimper a little. The dancers are the physical manifestation of 'techno'.

According to Vogue, three is enough for a trend. But I'm even more thorough than Vogue, so here is Camille, pretending to hula hoop in the video for Money Note. She's gone for the shiny shorts over black leggings, which I would call a 'just in case' look.
There's more lame (LA-MAY!) out in pop world, I just know it. I think I've spied more in videos I didn't care to remember, such as Mariah Carey. It all looks so sexy and glamorous up on screen. But it's that American Apparel vision of sexy, which doesn't actually exist. One spin through the washing machine and that stuff is ruined. I love how it's described as 'swimwear' on their website, with the caution that 'exposure to salt water and chlorine not recommended'.

Field Day

I went to Field Day on Saturday, but I haven't told you about it yet. I know, I know, I'm making a loser sign against my forehead as I'm typing.
It wasn't the post-apocalyptic wasteland the Drowned in Sound message boards had me fearing: I queued about 10 minutes for the toilets and the cans of Red Stripe were plentiful. But it was cold and raining all damn day. And full of braying East London types. You know the sort, who turn up just to be "seen" and apparently spend their days putting together outfits. It's difficult to hate on the scenesters though, because it's just a phase. They'll grow out of it.
Jeffrey Lewis and his cartoons were good, as were The Field. The main stage was too quiet during Laura Marling and Of Montreal, and there was an excellent brass band hidden amongst the trees. Overall? A nice day out.
My friends kindly let me stay with them in Bow afterwards, and filled me up with Pimms. So maybe East London isn't so bad.

Current obsession - Action Biker

I was on one of my regular YouTube daisy chains when I found Stockholm lovely Action Biker. My starting point was When I Grow Up by the Pussycat Dolls (did Britney Spears not make the final edit?) and somehow ended up with luscious electro loveliness. Action Biker is Sarah Nyberg Pergament, and she sings like Francoise Hardy, makes beautiful lo-fi electronica and looks like she stepped from a street style webiste. She also performs with Kevin Wright as The Dreamers. She is proof that Sweden is a wondrous paradise, along with Dala horses, IKEA, The Knife and so on.
Below is the video for ICA Lappis, which not only looks amazing but is also a song about shopping in the Swedish equivalent of Spar. There's also a live video on YouTube where she sings on stage while making brownies. Performance baking = winner.

Three hours in Nottingham

Yesterday, I went to Nottingham for a job interview. Strolling around the medieval streets and people watching in a very sunny Market Square made me think 'yeah! I could live here!' The reality is that it rains in Nottingham as much anywhere else in the UK, and I don't know anybody who lives there. Nottingham has a good gig scene, but it felt a bit too small. Don't get offended Nottingham, it's just that I'm ready for a big, big city.
By reflex, I went into Select A Disc. Since when has it been so expensive in there? Everything I wanted on vinyl (Cut Copy, Hercules & Love Affair, Holy Fuck) was about £20. I left with a copy of The Stool Pigeon, Moscow by the recently defunct This Et Al (a 2005 limited edition release) and a Dragonette vinyl which mysteriously had 'freeparty@dragonette.com' stamped on the label. It was a bit embarrassing to hand over the total spend of 50p to the chap working there, with 'FREE JAZZ' emblazoned across his t-shirt. But I couldn't leave empty handed after browsing every record while waiting for my train.
Back home in Liverpool, I discovered the Dragonette seven inch is the divine I Get Around. Shame Dragonette only sold about a wheelbarrow full of records when they were trying to make it big in the '07, but I spied on their website that they have an Australian tour this September. So perhaps they're selling records somewhere in the world. I haven't spun This Et Al yet. Shame they never made it big outside of Leeds, as I always had a soft spot for their angular post-rocking antics. At least they had their integrity.

Death of the CD update

Much of my CD collection has been packaged up and sold to eBayers around the world, from Liverpool to New Zealand. And I'm sick of queueing up in the Post Office. I still have a carrier bag full, which I attempted to donate to a charity shop. But they don't accept donations of CDs, so I had to trundle home with it.
It was sad to say goodbye to my CDs, but necessary. And the vinyl stays, obviously. The money went straight onto new clothes. Wearing nice clothes is nice, but I despise trawling around shops, feeling hideously exposed in front of changing room mirrors, navigating around gaggles of teenage girls etc. But my wardrobe was thinning to the point where I had about three daytime outfits, so off on an internet shopping trip I went. To Etsy, naturally, which is full of people with mad skillz.


Above is my favourite new Etsy purchase, from Victoria n' Bird. The picture doesn't do it justice, but it's a fabulous pinafore dress beneath that gold scarf (from Brussels). And I know I need a haircut. Sorry, Mum.
And the back. Mad skillz indeed! I'd wear it everyday if I could. But I spilt my dinner on it earlier. OOOPS! Maybe I should just wear black dresses from now on. It might be a bit clammy on hot days, but at least I wouldn't have to over-think outfits.

Went to a party and wanted to dance all night

On Saturday night I went to a party in Sheffield, at the home of some philosophy graduate students. Taking a PhD looks like fun. On the stereo: Robyn, The Knife, Sujjan Stevens and an early morning sing-along to Erasure's A Little Respect. I know! We are such cool people.

Here's a photo of the bathroom tiles:

Seven inch shambles

Today I popped into Zavvi to see if they have Annie's I Know Ur Girlfriend Hates Me on seven inch. Turns out they don't have anything on seven inch. When I asked a young chap working there about it, he didn't have much to say apart from "we didn't sell many". I'm not surprised, because those now empty slots always seemed full of One Night Only and Scouting For Girls. Basically, music that about 10 people in the UK would probably want on vinyl.

Well, me and Zavvi are through. I never need go in there again, especially since the ground floor is full of DVDs, games and mobile phones. Is there a place on the high street for music? These days, it's looking like NO. In the much trumpeted Liverpool One development, the only "music" (read: entertainment) shop is HMV. I'm pulling a sad face at this one. Does the disappearance of seven inches in Zavvi mean we're a tiny step closer to the day when music is officially shit, because it's been packaged up to advertise mobile phones and so on?

Also, that £22 Bjork record you see above is not a special edition of Volta, but a pack of Wanderlust remixes. Come on, One Little Indian! £22 for some unnecessary variations on a theme?

News news news

Ack, haven't scribbled anything blogwise for a while. Not that my brain has had no thoughts on music, but because of real life and so on. Sorry!
I zoomed down to London for an interview, and at Euston was greeted by a Mini Lamb Banana:

Liverpool city centre has been filled with Mini Lamb Bananas, and when I walk around it feels like there's always one in my peripheral vision. So imagine my excitement to find one on the platform at Euston. Look at those teenage girls admiring the other side. It's like a little bit of Capital of Culture dribbled Down South.
Well, it wasn't all that exciting. But cute.
Anyway, on Friday night I went to The Kazimier. It's an old dancehall recently converted to a cool new, DIY venue and one letter away from the name of a Polish king. It was a pagan tudor evening of delight called Karneval, featuring splat the rat, straw and cans of Carlsberg. There was also a brass ensemble playing covers of disco classics like You Got The Love. All of which was officially brilliant, especially as dancing around to live music is approximately 35% more enjoyable than dancing around to records. Here's a pic of the floor in the ladies:

Each toilet door corresponded to the colour. Brilliant, yes? Brilliant!!
There's probably similar nights happening all the time in London, but who could afford to go to them? Not just financially, but who's got the time? There might be less going on in Liverpool than the capital, but it makes you appreciate it more.

Still Fergie from the block

That Fergie. She must be very careless with mobile phones, because I've never seen her with the same one twice.
Here she is in the video for Big Girls Don't Cry, reaching for something...

...ah yes, a black, flippy phone (I don't know phones).

Here she is in the video for Glamorous. And how glamorous your whole life is, Fergie. During breaks filming a Bonnie and Clyde Hollywood smash, you have assistants primping your hair and make-up. They're also ready to hand you your white, horizontal flippy phone.

I promise that is Fergie's hand and acrylics clutching some sort of phone in the video for Fergalicious

Here she is texting that hot ticket Johnny in the video for Clumsy, using a Motorola. I know it's a Motorola because the logo is prominently displayed

The video for Black Eyed Peas' Let's Get It Started opens with another Motorola suspended in mid-air. In the background, a figure approaches...

Surprise, it's Fergie! She then bellows down the mouthpiece to some hapless person. That's a lot of phones. It's almost as though she's trying to sell me something...

Maybe I need a big, shiny car?

Hmm, I could do with a Louis Vuitton trunk for my summer holidays.

I hear that MAC is a really good make-up brand.

That's it! I'm off to the shops for some own-brand Fergie cookies!

St John's box office watch

I snapped a couple of photos of St John's box office this morning. St John's is Liverpool shabby shopping centre and indoor market, where you can buy everything from Paris Hilton's latest perfume to a pig's head. It's like the dirty little secret of Liverpool's (apparently) glittering retail sector, and the council would probably bulldoze it to the ground were it not for all the people who need budget shops. I buy all sorts of bits and bobs in Iceland. You can get 18 Penguins for £1 in there.

Anyway. Let's take a look at the Manchester side:

I know it sort of looks like there's a small ghost trapped inside, but there really isn't. You can just about see that upcoming gigs include Bon Iver, Crystal Castles, Hot Chip and Jeffrey Lewis. But what about the Liverpool side?

The Australian Pink Floyd Show, Michael Ball and a Beatles Day. And what sound like poor quality emo bands at Academy/Barfly (Multi Purpose Chemical and Glamour of the Kill). And a mere three gigs scheduled for "Uni & Korova". These two venues are nowhere near each other. They're not even in cahoots! The far right column is the top sellers, and it reads 'Creamfields, Creamfields, Creamsfields, Ministry of Sound'.
St John's box office doesn't represent all the DIY gigs and so on, but from this investigation it's Manchester 1, Liverpool nil.

Once upon a time at the Adelphi

The gigging drought continues in Liverpool, but I did get a little live music fix last night as I went to see a musical. I know! A musical. I'm usually more of a Brechtian, epic fan. But Once Upon A Time At The Adelphi is one of the big theatrical events of Oh-Eight (as in Liverpool '08, joint European Capital of Culture with Stavanger). And it was press night, and I'm always hopeful of bumping into Lyn Gardner one day. Although I'm not sure if I'd have anything interesting to say to her.
When I first heard about the show, I thought it was going to be a site-specific performance in the faded splendour of the Adelphi hotel (which never recovered its reputation from that BBC fly-on-the-wall documentary). But it's a big, cheesy musical at the Playhouse, with jazz hands aplenty and fully exploiting that revolve stage.
Set against the hotel's glamorous 1930s heyday, Once Upon A Time At The Adelphi is yarn about love conquering all. So just like any other musical, really. And as a musical, I'd give it 8/10 because it was full of high kicks, sparkly frocks and money notes. But for me, I'd give it 4/10. Because it felt like every other Oh Eight event that's been approved by about 100 organisers, all keen to ensure nobody could possibly feel offended. And because the message seemed to be that if you want to make something of your life, get out of Liverpool. And, most of all, because it was a big cheesy musical.

The power of Bjork

I was having another think about Bjork and how amazing she is. She proves that when a woman has a child, she doesn't stop being creative and exclusively become a mother. Also, she inspires people to make things like Hama bead Medulla necklaces, swan prom dresses, Vespertine bags and Volta keyrings.

The gig drought

Ever since Liverpool Sound City there's been a gig drought. Although a lot of bands are concentrating on festival appearances in these summery months, Liverpool's venues have not exactly been bustling.
On Saturday, Black Kids play to a sold out crowd at the Barfly, but I'll be out of town. Beyond that, there's not much filling up my calendar. I might be tempted by Glasvegas at the Barfly next week, and possibly Ben Folds at the Academy, but his piano-bashing, Americana geek rock has never really done it for me. Korova have east Londoners The Brute Chorus in a couple of weeks, but their MySpace doesn't convince me.
The still fairly new Echo Arena seems to host crowd-pleasing concerts every night, including Westlife, Meat Loaf, Crowded House and a Sugababes/Bjorn Again double whammy. Even The Wombats are playing there in November. I know it's a home-town gig for them and they're popular with the young folks, but isn't 10,000 tickets asking a bit much?
What is going on with the live music moratorium? Maybe this is because of the Echo Arena, and Liverpool is now only allowed a strict quota of gigs in some sort of karmic balance.

New single releases

Every week, a new batch of singles are released which we can all mull over. Below I pass the verdict on three, using biscuit metaphors. I was going to do this yesterday, but didn't have chance.

The song: Cola Coka by Rosie Oddie and the Odd Squad (7 inch)
The verdict: Celebrity ornithologist and ex-Goodie Bill Oddie once made an appearance on Never Mind The Buzzcocks where he was ripped apart by Simon Amstell. The show's editing looks incredibly selective: had the BBC2 panel show attempted a character assassination on Bill? But then someone told me about Rosie Oddie, and I realised that maybe Bill had been attempting to promote his daughter's band but ended up looking like a berk. Anyway, Cola Coka is about London hipster consuming drugs. It's a mess of a song, dressed up in a fake leopard fur jacket trying to skank to The Specials. Probably all right if you believe Camden to be a magical place.
Take It To The Chorus says: It's one of those excessively sugary biscuits from foreign parts dressed up too much, like an Oreo cookie sprinkled with hundreds and thousands.

The song: When You Touch Me by Freemasons
The verdict: I don't usually delve into commercial dance tunes because, mostly, they all seem constructed to shift ringtones and 'too hot for TV' video downloads. And to keep the dancefloors of clubland excited with the promise of sex. Because that's all this is about: sex, sex, sex. Freemasons are such prolific remixers (having waved their magic, hit-making remix wand over Beyonce, Solange, Kelly Rowland etc) they possess a secret formula for saleable pop song. When You Touch Me powers along with a pounding 4/4 beat, monster hooks and an absentee female vocalist (I'm assuming the svelte model in the video couldn't produce such sounds). Even if you brain says no, your body can't resist on a basic, physiological level. The video is based on a scene from Sweet Charity, which is officially the best musical ever.
Take It To The Chorus says: A plain digestive. You know what you're getting, and it's still satisfying.

Other singles potentially clogging up the charts this week include the rather lovely Paris is Burning by Ladyhawke, chipmunk-heavy Stay With Me by Ironik and folky-dolky Caravan Girl by Goldfrapp.