So I decided to put together a mix for today… that Tofurky isn’t going to cook itself and I thought it would be good to have a mix for while we’re cooking (OK… admittedly I’m going to be mostly drinking and getting in Chandi’s way while she cooks). After I put the mix together I decided that I was pretty happy with it so I thought that I would put it up here in the spirit of sharing.

It’s really more a sampling of a some things, old and new, that I have been listening to lately and less a Thanksgiving mix. However, I tried to keep it mostly upbeat, so hopefully it will be a good mix for cooking/hanging out/enjoying a day off. Hope you enjoy it.

1. Pop / Ben Barnett (from Songs About Zombies and Trust Issues)
2. Give Me Back My Heart Attack / Land of Talk (from Some Are Lakes)
3. Happens To Us All Otherwise / Bound Stems (from The Family Afloat)
4. Anna / Hello Saferide (from More Modern Short Stories from Hello Saferide)
5. Through My Gloves / Forest Fire (from Survival)
6. Fake Blues / Real Estate (from Fake Blues/Green River 7″)
7. Try To Think About Me (Don’t Worry A Bit) / Herman Dune (from Next Year in Zion)
8. Changes Are No Good / The Stills (from Logic Will Break Your Heart)
9. Drop It Doe Eyes / Los Campesinos! (from Hold on Now, Youngster…)
10. Barnacle Goose / Born Ruffians (from Red, Yellow and Blue)
11. Four Long Days / Voxtrot (from Mothers, Sisters, Daughters & Wives)
12. A Trenchant Critique / Owen (from New Leaves)
13. Into The Stream / The Tallest Man on Earth (from Shallow Graves)
14. Sex Bodies / Matthew Hemerlein (from EP 2)
15. Stopped Signs / A Wonderful (from Uncorked Understandings)
16. Friends They Are Jewels / Iron and Wine (from Around the Well)

Again, I really hope you like it. And please, if there is anything above that you haven’t heard and really like go buy their lp/disc from your favorite independent record store… or better yet go see the band live and buy it from them.

Very occasionally a group of people get together on the Touchedmix blog and post mixes on a particular theme. Last week, the theme was HEADS, with their features and their functions. I thought readers of this little corner of the music blogosphere might be interested in the two mixes I banged together.

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OVER MY HEAD MIX
1. Aztec Camera – Head Is Happy (Heart’s Insane) (1985)
2. Crowded House – Pineapple Head (live) (1996/2006)
3. Johnny Cash – Mean Eyed Cat (1996)
4. The Dillards – I’ve Just Seen A Face (1968)
5. The Holmes Brothers – Smiling Face Hiding A Weeping Heart (2006)
6. Paul Anka – Eyes Without A Face (2006)
7. The Undisputed Truth – Smiling Faces Sometimes (1971)
8. Justine Washington – I Can’t Wait Until I See My Baby’s Face (1964)
9. The Flamingos – I Only Have Eyes For You (1959)
10. Mississippi Sheikhs – I’ve Got Blood in My Eyes For You (1938)
11. Robert Mitchum – Mama Looka Boo Boo (Shut Your Mouth-Go Away) (1958)
12. Emile Ford & the Checkmates – Them There Eyes (1960)
13. Lewis Taylor – Blue Eyes (2000)
14. Andrew Bird – A Nervous Tic Motion Of The Head To The Left (2005)
15. Nada Surf – The Way You Wear Your Head (2002)
16. The Sweet – The Lies In Your Eyes (1975)
17. Ben Folds – Doctor My Eyes (2002)
18. Josh Ritter – One More Mouth (2006)
19. Kaki King – Saving Days In A Frozen Head (2008)
20. The Lilac Time – The Darkness Of Her Eyes (1991)
21. Thomas Dybdahl – Pale Green Eyes (2009)
22. Ryan Adams – Halloweenhead (2007)
23. The Cardigans – Give Me Your Eyes (2005)

Download

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Justine Washington is better known as Baby Washington; this is the original version of the song covered to good effect by Dusty Springfield.

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SENSES WORKING OVERTIME MIX
1. David Bowie – Can You Hear Me (1975)
2. Tim Buckley – I Can’t See You (1966)
3. Herman Düne – I Wish That I Could See You Soon (2006)
4. Devics – If We Cannot See (2006)
5. Richard Hawley – Can You Hear The Rain, Love (2001)
6. Scott Walker – You’re Gonna Hear From Me (1967)
7. The Righteous Brothers – See That Girl (1965)
8. Chris Montez – The More I See You (1966)
9. Cass Elliot – I’ll Be Seeing You (1973)
10. Blind Boy Fuller – What’s That Smells Like Fish (1938)
11. Smiley Lewis – I Hear You Knocking (1955)
12. The Supremes – I Hear A Symphony (1965)
13. Jim Messina – Seeing You (For The First Time) (1979)
14. Baby Huey – Listen To Me (1971)
15. The Jesus and Mary Chain – Taste Of Cindy (1985)
16. K’s Choice – A Sound That Only You Can Hear (1995)
17. Mull Historical Society – Watching Xanadu (2001)
18. Ron Sexsmith & Don Kerr – Listen (2005)
19. Rosanne Cash – I Was Watching You (2006)
20. The Magic Numbers – I See You, You See Me (2005)
21. Paul Anka – Smells Like Teen Spirit (2005)

DOWNLOAD

Click here to Download FREE MP3!

This weeks playlists at Rate My Playlist feature songs with hand claps in them.  It’s good.  Download it and enjoy!

Click here to download the FREE MP3!!

Handclaps are awesome…handclaps in songs are just downright delightful.  Check out and download our Playlists this week.  We present our favorite songs that feature our beloved natural instrument.  Hope you enjoy!

C’est un peu vieux (3 ans), mais ça marche toujours avec moi!

Herman Dune

I was in Asda a couple of days ago, searching through the bargain £2 DVD basket. There were the usual shockers, such as kids films with random personified animals and straight to DVD flops. However, there was one film that immediately caught my eye for one reason or another. Braindead.

I have to admit, this is definitely the craziest film I have ever seen. I don’t watch many horror/gore movies but if they are all as hilariously shocking as this then I am so obviously missing out. Watch this and prepare to be amazed, especially if you manage to find it for a mere £2!

I’ve been listening to a lot of Herman Dune recently. I recommend highly.

The Leisure Society on The Garden Stage

Well, it has been over a week since I got back from the End of The Road Festival, and the delay in writing is down to a busy schedule and wondering how on earth I could do justice to such an amazing weekend in a blog post (or few). I had such an incredible time I could probably waffle on for weeks, but instead I’ll try and capture my thoughts as efficiently as possible.

In a sentence:
“Had an amazing time at the End of The Road: 3 days, 24 bands, gorgeous setting, fab weather, great food, lots of laughs and very good company. I’ve found my festival!” [as I posted to Facebook immediately on my return]

In a paragraph:

A really welcoming, well organised festival that is clearly run and staffed by people who love music, and very good music at that.  The setting is unique and wonderful and the line-up was really excellent – that 24 band tally could have easily been 30 if it weren’t for scheduling clashes and not being able to be in two places at once. Got to see some bands I love play live for the first time, and discovered many more great bands and artists. Great weather helped, but the atmosphere was lovely and friendly, all facilities and refreshments were far better than expected and it all added up to a wonderful experience I’ll never forget. A cracking choice for my festival debut!

The top ten

So, who were the best? In order to build suspense slightly, I’ll cover my top ten favourites from the weekend in reverse order:

10.  Fleet Foxes (Garden Stage, Saturday 9.30-11.00pm)

They were good, but not as good as expected. Headlining on Saturday night was always going to be difficult for a band with only one album’s worth of material. Long gaps between songs, constant needless retuning of guitars and one awful cover version (‘Go your own way’ by Fleetwood Mac? Why cover a band/song that’s far worse than your own material?) used up the time, but detracted from the spectacle. As did the moronic wailing of a drunken idiot in our vicinity trying to ’sing’ along. Why would someone do that when listening to a band famed for their wonderful harmonising? Because he was an absolute ………  However, it’s hard to think of a better band to listen to in this setting – surrounded by a forest under a clear star-filled sky. Best songs: Tiger Mountain Peasant Song, White Winter Hymnal.

9. Neko Case (Garden Stage, Sunday 7.45 -8.45pm)

One of many very nice surprises over the weekend, Miss Case and her band delivered a very lively, varied set with great energy and enthusiasm. Good songs, great co-singer and amusing banter made for a very pleasant warm-up for The Hold Steady immediately afterwards. Best songs: Some People Gotta Lot of Nerve, Middle Cyclone, Don’t Forget Me.

The Acorn: two drummers, fine tunes

8. The Acorn (Garden Stage, Saturday 4.45 -5.45pm)

Another pleasant surprise. We’d decided to stay in the Garden Stage area after The Broken Family Band because it was such a gorgeous sunny afternoon. Had never heard of The Acorn before, but the programme write-up sounded promising, and so it proved. Folk rock with a world music tinge, two drummers and a very smiley and amiable lead singer combined with some chilled out, dreamy songs matched the weather and the mid-afternoon mood perfectly. Best songs: Crooked Legs, Hold Your Breath.

7.  Darren Hayman (Garden Stage, Saturday 1.00 – 1.45pm)

Biggest and best surprise of the weekend. Neither I nor my mate Jon had heard of Darren Hayman, but we were in such a great mood after the wonderful opening set from the Leisure Society that we stayed put on our comfortable chairs and gave him a chance. Very glad we did. Turns out he used to be the singer in Hefner, a semi-popular indie band of the mid to late 90’s and he is still in possession of an ear for a good tune and some of the funniest lyrics I’ve ever heard. He clearly loves this festival, and his enthusiasm, great humour and sunny disposition create a really convivial atmosphere in marked contrast to his arch songs of suburban tedium. Best songs: Pram Town, Rachel and Amy.

6.  Dirty Projectors (Garden Stage, Friday 7.45 – 8.45pm)

Immediately preceded by a great Festival moment – sitting down to give our legs a much needed rest, a couple of parrots flew just over our heads as the sun started setting. That moment of tranquility was soon shattered by the experiments in noise being conducted by Dirty Projectors. Three girls, three guys, some occasional screeching vocals, and frenetic guitar sequences produced a barrage of sound that was sometimes challenging but also very fresh and interesting. Their boundless energy and contagious enthusiasm combined with some impressive songs to create a very memorable set which would have been worthy of the headline slot they just missed out on. Best songs: No Intention, Two Doves, Stillness Is The Move, Remade Horizon, Knotty Pine.

The Broken Family Band: It's All Over - literally

5.  The Broken Family Band (Garden Stage, Saturday 3.30 -4.15pm)

In the three months between seeing the ads for the festival line-up and actually attending, I’d discovered the many delights of The Broken Family Band’s back catalogue and was greatly looking forward to seeing them. Even more so as they’d announced a couple of weeks before the End of The Road that they are splitting up in October, so this would possibly be my first and last chance to see them. They didn’t disappoint exactly, and produced a very enjoyable set, but because they didn’t include many of my favourite songs I was left a little underwhelmed, probably hampered by sky-high expectations. There were still some great moments, including great versions of ‘It’s All Over’ and ‘John Belushi’, but the understated set was perhaps  best summed up by the singer’s intro to their last song: “It’s not one of our best songs, but it’s in A”.

4.  The Leisure Society (Garden Stage, Saturday 12.00 – 12.30pm)

I knew very little indeed about this Brighton-based band before they opened Saturday on the Garden Stage, but they provided probably the nicest surprise of the weekend. They were only on stage for half an hour but made a very big impression, their intelligent, beautifully played indie-pop songs providing the perfect backdrop to a sunny Saturday lunchtime. In particular their female flute player and the two guys on violin and cello who’d travelled overnight from France to get here really shone. Another highlight was the very witty banter from the singer/keyboardist, which greatly amused us but seemed to pass over the heads of most of the assembled throng. The songs were more than enough on their own though, and ensured that I downloaded their debut album ‘The Sleeper’ on my return home. It’s since become a firm favourite and I’d love to see them play live again soon now I’m familiar with the songs. Best songs: Matter of Time, A Fighting Chance, The Last of The Melting Snow, Save It For Someone Who Cares.

3.  The Duke & The King (Big Top, Friday 6.00 – 6.45pm)

Friday’s highlight was a fantastic performance from The Duke & The King which really lifted the festival to another level. I’d been enjoying their first album recently and was looking forward to seeing them here, but wasn’t prepared for how good they’d be live.  Simon Felice (from the band the Felice Brothers) made an early bid for front man of the festival with a mesmirising display – shy he ain’t! In fact all four band members gave energetic performances full of soul that transformed many of their songs into really moving, uplifting experiences. They all enjoyed their moment in the limelight too: the female violinist and the bassist taking centre stage for a fantastic rendition of ‘Suzanne’, and the drummer pretty much stealing the show with his spine-tingling vocal contributions. Best songs: If You Ever Get Famous, Suzanne, Union Street.

2.  The Hold Steady (Garden Stage, Sunday 9.30 – 11.00pm)

They’ve been one of my favourite bands for a couple of years now, and this was the first time I was going to see them live. Given the fact that they were virtually closing the festival, in Sunday’s headline slot, I was a bit worried that my expectations would be too great and I’d be disappointed. Not so.

By the time they came on stage I was very excited, and it was just great to be able to hear so many songs I like given a new lease of life by a band on the top of their form. Well, eventually. It took a little while for them to get into their stride and the sound engineers took about 5 songs to get Craig Finn’s microphone right, which is a bit of a disadvantage when you miss all the lyrical nuances because the singer’s not properly in the mix.  They got better and better as the set went on, the whole band growing in confidence and enthusiasm. Franz Nicolay on keyboard was coolness personified – playing incredibly whilst appearing to be making no effort whatsoever, and as Craig Finn careered round the stage, yelling and jumping up and down he carried off a perfect impression of a man who loves his job. A great end to a fantastic weekend.  Best songs: Stuck Between Stations, Chips Ahoy!, Massive Nights, Your Little Hoodrat Friend.

1.  Joe Gideon & The Shark (Big Top, Sunday 3.00 – 3.45pm)

And the best performance of the weekend? An absolute belter, quite out of the blue, from this London-based brother and sister duo who have more than a whiff of The White Stripes about them. Except they have better songs. I’d checked them out on Spotify a week before the festival and was impressed enough to suggest to Jon that we should make sure we saw them. So glad I did! After a slightly unsure start, playing two of their weakest songs, Jon showed signs of wanting to do a runner, as we had on a couple of occasions already on Sunday. Thankfully we stayed put and were rewarded as from somewhere, something quite magical started to happen.  The Shark, on drums and sampler keyboards, started playing out of her skin and was mesmirising to watch. Her confidence seemed to rub off on her sibling, who discovered an unforeseen swagger and started wielding his guitar like a weapon.

A four song sequence at the end of the set was worth the admission price for the weekend alone: After the amusing and raucous ‘Hide And Seek’, came the wonderful ‘Kathy Ray’ gently unfolding the tale of a backing singer reliving past glories. By this stage there was a real emotional bond between band and audience and the next song took everything to another level. ‘Anything You Love That Much … You Will See Again’ is a really beautiful, moving yet uplifting song that just came to life in the Big Top here in a way you couldn’t replicate on record. Hit by wave after wave of raw emotion, I suddenly understood why bands play live. It was a spine-tingling, jaw-dropping moment, and the best song of the festival for me. I couldn’t believe they didn’t finish there, with the entire tent in their palms. As it was, the bold move of playing ‘Civilisation’ as their closing song paid off and left me buzzing and breathless. What a show!

Best of the rest

Suspense is not as important with these, so I’ll keep to numerical order:

11.  She Keeps Bees (The Local, Sunday)

An American boy/girl duo sounding a bit like Mazzy Star and The White Stripes – deserved a better stage and time slot than very last band on in the claustrophobic Local marquee.

12. Explosions in the Sky (Garden Stage, Friday)

Huge sweeping instrumental tracks with orchestral scope produced by three guitarists and a drummer. Headlined on Friday and were best enjoyed with your eyes closed so you couldn’t see their onstage gurning and hystrionics.

13.  Vetiver (Big Top, Friday)

Would have been great on the Garden Stage on Saturday instead of Alela Diane, but performed well enough in the Big Top without wowing anyone. Felt they were playing within themselves and could have been even better if they’d been a bit less laid back. One or two really good songs though. The only set I actually had a lie down for … it seemed oddly appropriate.

14.  Stars of Sunday League (Tipi Tent, Sunday)

Missed the start of this short but sweet set, and caught most of it from the back of the tiny Tipi Tent, but was worth the squeeze. Well written,  beautifully sung indie folk songs from a young bearded gentleman with a lovely Dundee accent and a young lady on a violin. One to watch out for.

15.  Bob Log III (Garden Stage, Sunday)

A man alone on the centre of the huge Garden Stage, dressed in a tight-fitting gold lame suit with flared trousers, and a motorcycle helmet with a microphone inside it, shrieking along to his incredibly fast slide guitar antics. Produced the best ending to any set, walking down into the audience playing guitar and then walking back up, across the stage and off, still playing with his back to the audience. In his own little world, and maybe it’s for the best.

16.  Alela Diane (Garden Stage, Saturday)

The ‘future star of Americana’ according to critics. ‘Sweet but dull’ according to me. Maybe it was because I was flagging after so many hours standing up and feeling hungry, but this set of pleasant-ish folk songs kind of floated over me without leaving any real impression. I can’t remember how any of them went, but I do recall with fondness the over-enthusiastic bassist called on for one or two songs towards the end and behaving like a hyper-active bearded toddler.

17.  Loney, Dear (Garden Stage, Friday)

First act we saw: Swedish bloke, bit mad, gibbering on with frankly baffling banter in between a couple of rather good electronic pop songs. Not very polished, but reasonably pleasant.

18.  Charlie Parr (Big Top, Friday)

Kind of a cross between Badly Drawn Boy and Giant Haystacks, he played the blues a lot, lot better than he looked. Came alive whilst playing his guitar, but lacking in stage presence. Bumped into him a couple of times that evening and he seemed quite a surly fellow with little patience for fellow artists. Looked a bit too much like an axe murderer to discuss those foibles with him though.

19.  Beth Jeans Houghton (The Local, Friday)

Could have, and should have been really rather brilliant. She’s quirky with a cute Northern accent and a set of self-written whimsical songs but her late night set in the Local was a right shambles. She took ages setting up and the sound engineers let her down badly: a catalogue of technical errors undermining a collection of interesting and sometimes beautiful songs. That, and the fact she was wearing a peacock on her head atop a huge blonde frizzy wig that kept getting in her way. When we saw her briefly again on Saturday in the Big Top she’d ditched the peacock but was wearing hotpants and looking frankly ridiculous. She doesn’t need such gimicks, the songs are enough. If she ditches the fancy dress, she might be huge one day.

20.  Herman Dune (Big Top, Friday)

Quite confused to discover later that these guys were French – seemed like a straightforward American alt-country band to me, even down to the accents. Fairly impressive, especially the drummer, though we didn’t stay too long so we could catch the above-mentioned Miss Beth Jeans Peacock. Stayed longer than Charlie Parr though, who stood in front of me for one song, grunted, and walked straight out.

The dregs

21.  The Low Anthem  (Garden Stage, Saturday)

A huge disappointment. Thought they’d be great having heard their latest album but it was a case of wrong band, wrong stage, wrong songs. Started off with three really quiet ones that bored us into submission and sent us in the direction of lunch.

T-Model Ford: What song is this again?

22.  T-Model Ford  (Big Top, Sunday)

Lovely old poppet, 80 plus years old. He can’t remember how old he is. Or the lyrics to any of his songs apparently. Helped onstage by his drummer/roadie/nurse, he looked at home playing his blues guitar, grinned happily throughout, but seemed to be playing exactly the same song eight times over. We left out of a mixture of boredom and embarrassment.

23.  Treecreeper  (Tipi Tent, Sunday)

Only decided to watch this lot because we had found a space in the Tipi Tent and didn’t feel like moving. That soon changed when this very poor pub band started playing. Worthy, hard-working but very dull. I lasted a song and a half.

24.  Brakes  (Big Top, Sunday)

But compared with this bunch of reprobates, Treecreeper were U2 or Coldplay (worthy, hard-working, very dull..!). Brakes were highly praised in the programme and had appeared here every year so we were quite expectant. Oh dear. Obnoxious bald singer suffering from short man syndrome did a couple of similarly short, shouty horrible songs, and we were almost running out of the Big Top to escape. Absolute rubbish and the only totally unlistenable band of the weekend.

The ones that got away

These are the ones that I wanted to see but missed, either due to scheduling clashes, or other unforeseen circumstances:

Mumford & Sons (Garden Stage, Friday)

We arrived too late to see them kick off the festival, which was a shame.

Shearwater (Garden Stage, Friday)

We had to miss them in order to get some food – having since checked out their most recent album on Spotify, I regret that decision.

First Aid Kit (Tipi Tent, Saturday)

We tried and failed to get to in the Tipi Tent to see these Swedish sibling songstresses which was a disappointment at the time, but even more so having checked out their most recent album and their fantastic version of Tiger Mountain Peasant Song by the Fleet Foxes. Should have barged our way in!

Efterklang (Big Top, Saturday)

Clashed with the Fleet Foxes. Jury’s out on whether we made the right decision, pending a Spotify investigation.

Blitzen Trapper (Tipi Tent, Saturday)

Clashed with tea time on Saturday – very good write up in the programme but will have to investigate further.

After filming/producing/editing my own video blog over the past few years I thought it was about time I put a few of the best bits together… enjoy!!

Featuring (in no order of importance except for the person at the top ;-p )
Becki Burrows (me! Of course..)
Usher
Wayne Coyne,
Paul Simonon
Dub Pistols
David Guetta
Shitdisco
MSTRKRFT
Florence and the Machine
Gary Numan
Iglu and Hartly
We Are Scientists
Fearne Cotton
Fables
Maximo Park
GLC
John Giddings
Basement Jaxx
Herman Dune
Datarock
Bat for Lashes
and last but most certainly not least
Scroobius Pip

There have of course been many great moments.. such as interviewing Deadmau5 in Malta, Bonaparte in Berlin.. blagging Elisha (16) into V-Fest to meet her idols and one of my favourites – blagging Lola (70) backstage at Big Chill 2008 to meet Leonard Cohen.. but I can’t fit it all of these in to ten minutes!!! And of course I’ve kept some of the most cringey bits in.. despite my own embarrassment..

It’s like listening to a Jeremy Jay album sung in (English and) Brazilian.

It’s like watching Noel Gallagher dropping the act for one moment and singing ‘Octopus’s Garden’, free and unafraid and unashamed to admit to a love for the nursery rhyme pop of his youth, while his brother looks on scornfully from the sidelines.

It’s throwaway, disposable – but there ain’t anything wrong with that.

It’s like Brion Gysin’s dream machine allowed to run rampant with the imagination of a trio of long-haired…I was going to write Devandra Banhart…Amy Winehouse fans. (It’s like hearing that bonus CD with Back To Black and realising that pop stars are often at their most fertile when playing music they love, not catching up with the zeitgeist. Happens much less often then you’d wish.)

It’s like Ringo Starr…um, when he was momentarily releasing the Good Stuff.

It’s Jonathan Richman, but of course.

In many respects, it’s the anti-Jack White (certainly where he’s positioned himself now).

It’s got a beguiling lightness of touch. Tunes linger. Folk are relaxed. Voices wrap themselves around vowels lovingly. Percussion is sparse, but felt. Dynamics do what dynamics should. There is fleshing out, but it certainly hasn’t gone to seed. ‘Unattainable’ – the one with the female vocal – is a torch song that would make Mr Lynch flush with pleasure. ‘With Strangers’ – the one with the male vocal – is the sort of vaguely swaggering, belicose, liveable song that was claimed for The Strokes or The Libertines or one of those goddamn bands but so rarely materialised. Nice echoed harmonies, too.

I’d go watch this. Sure, I would.

P.S. Motherfucker. I’ve just seen what they look like. That’ll teach me to listen to music without context. Fuck it. I’m sticking by what I said. This is nearly Herman Düne good.

P.P.S. Motherfucker. This is the song you really want to be listening to. Here, as well.

Broken Social Scene have recorded an interesting cover of Joy Division’s epic Love Will Tear Us Apart. The track will appear on the soundtrack of The Time Traveler’s Wife. Hear it for yourself, via Pitchfork, HERE

Tickets go on sale tomorrow for the October gigs (in Glasgow and Manchester) of Super Furry Animals.

Lineup for the Fistful of Fandango festival in London confirmed for next month. Includes Art Brut, Eugene McGuinness, Herman Dune and Hatcham Social. More details HERE

Dan Deacon, Deerhunter and No Age have been touring together and you can see some footage below.

Rock the Casbah – Rachid Taha

Devils Haircut – Beck

Reverend Black Grape – Black Grape

Geno – Dexy’s Midnight Runners

No, No, No – Dawn Penn

The Corner (Ft. the Last Poets and Kanye West) – Common

The Seed (2.0) – the Roots

Friction – Television

My Generation – the Who

River Deep, Mountain High – the Saints

Lust for Life – Iggy Pop

Shake Your Rump – Beastie Boys

Say No Go (New Keys Vocal) – De La Soul

Old School Rules (Ft. Talib Kweli) – Dangerdoom

Movin’ On Up – Primal Scream

Good Vibrations – Beach Boys

Suburbs With You (Peel Session) – Herman Dune

the Purple Bottle – Animal Collective

Nick: hermindoone? one word?

nope it’s like a name Herman Düne, but it’s a band.

ok.

{Nick is painting in the corner of the room}

can you hear ok over there?

I .an ..r it f…

yeah, ok but I can’t hear you.

{later}

well…I like it.

apart from the inevitable use of the word ‘baby’ which I still think should be banned from all music.

it prevents people from writing better lyrics.

their new album, this one is from 2005, has a song called “Baby Baby You’re My Baby’…

that is just….terrible.

{track 6: This Will never Happen}

first song where the lyrics don’t work, I hate when people double the speed of certain lines just to fit all the words in.

try harder!

he’s English?

nope and there ’s no ‘he’.

THATS A GIRL??!!!

hahahah no, sorry I should’ve said, there are two he’s.

they’re brothers, the voices can be kind of hard to tell apart in the beginning.

so are they American?

Swiss / French.

really…oh!

the lyrics strike me as English, maybe the music is kind of American.

god, their English is very good so.

except for the overuse of ‘baby’.

lose that and they could be great.

baby should be banned for a number of years.

large fines against those who use it, and that all goes to lyric writers pension funds.

Oh man it’s so good, I almost want to put it straight back on. I picked this up based on the cover alone, the next few months, years, were spent getting my hands on everything they had done (which is a lot). Last album was a bit of a stinker, I thought it was because Andre had left the band but his first solo record since leaving was fairly rubbish too. So…….

http://www.myspace.com/therealhermandune

After the (relative) success of the previous entry in this series – Melissa’s ‘Making Plan B’ from right at the magazine’s inception – I thought I’d re-post an early blog entry from the same year.

The file is dated 29/6/04, and I see no reason to doubt it. It must have been written after issue ‘0′ came out, and before the (alternate) cover shown above. Beautiful photography by Sarah Bowles.

Life spirals out of control.
Life lurches in fits and starts between long periods of abject boredom and a welter of activity culminating in performing the songs of Mr Daniel Treacy in front of a crowd of mildly interested indie sorts in a queer-themed Belfast nightclub. I tell a story of prison boats off the shore of England. I tell a tale of a punk band that once supported Nirvana, big show, big date, big chance – and slowed all their songs down to third-speed to fuck off the grunge kids. I speak of beauty, and try to emulate what I speak of, through the sound of my voice wistfully singing words of defiance and Outsider Status, love and heartbreak. Underneath it is a mini-disc recorded in Chris and Sadie’s excellent Hove seafront flat a few days hence – one song is too slow, and I stumble painfully.
Belfast is magic. Our hostess Helen is at pains to keep us topped up with company and food, and I even win a tiebreak on Trivial Pursuit final night. All this, a second viewing for Harry Potter AND a bomb scare (which nicely broke up Goat Boy’s birthday bash at the Front Page, and simply moved the party onto another part of town). It brought back a nice warm glow, me in my early twenties, shunted off one more train, out of one more building, London 1983. The pop quiz (a reprise from the Brighton night) went down a treat, especially the last prize of a pack of cold onion rings, left over from a visit to Ballycastle, and, previously, Giant’s Causeway, which itself was viewed through a slightly auburn haze after I’d downed eight or nine whiskies at the Bushmill’s Distillery. I was elected taster. Shame I can’t stand Bushmill’s, then.
Also in town, The Chalets – we found their voices and contrived pub bounciness a fraction grating in our delirium of no sleep, but listening to the single a week later, it does retain a real Bis charm. I’m a sucker for male/female vocal interplay. Songs should tell stories. Or, in the very least, be written by Herman Düne…
The sound you hear is rushing silence playing around the more gentle parts of my head, concentration and good humour broken by yet another sleepless night spent fermenting plots of revenge against everyone I know, but especially my friends (although probably not Andrew Clare, for some reason).
I vow to do away with this Plan B bullshit, soon as I can.
I vow to stop writing.
I vow to stop listening to music.
I vow to send emails to everyone looking for input from me, telling them to go fuck themselves. (This last one I do.)
I vow to move to America.
I vow to never leave my house again.
I vow to be like Howe Gelb, or Jon Slade, and be loved only for my maverick brutality.
I vow to stop mentioning Jon Slade so much.

The sound you hear is the silence of my basement, broken only by the rumble of distant cars (always) and trains, a clock ticking on the kitchen wall. Last week was spent in a hazy largesse of train journeys and insomnia: many men with nice smiles give me many CDs and seven-inch singles, some of which are even by bands I like. Many men with nice smiles pat me on the back (not literally) and tell me how good Plan B looks, like they have any fucking right to do so. Many men with nice smiles buy Chris Houghton and I food, and I realise that Chris probably has a nicer smile than all of them combined. (This isn’t necessarily a plus.) The only parable I remember from the age of 10 runs thus: the smile you see is on the face of a tiger.
I am hailed as the prodigal son in Rough Trade Records, Ladbroke Grove – outside of which I once danced my ass off, bopping to the sweet sounds of Violent Femmes on their debut acoustic busking tour of London: outside of which I once busked myself as The Legend And The Swinging Soul Sisters, regaling passers-by with a cappella versions of ‘Sweet Soul Music’ and ‘Papa Was A Rolling Stone’.
I am given a James Kochalka single in XL Records, for which I am very grateful, because it is – indeed – exactly what you’d expect. I meet two dudes from Fatcat Records on the rooftop café of Brighton’s Duke Of Yorks cinema, and they exchange gossip about Sigur Ros that I cannot hope to divulge here. On the way, Chris engineers a moment whereby his mobile rings and we are offered a full-page clothing ad for our next issue. I accuse him of getting one of his interns to call.
Another evening, I DJ at an architecture party in Farringdon – Electric Six, Throbbing Gristle, Dance Disorder Movement – and attempt, half-heartedly, to live up to my reputation for being a mean drunk in front of a captive audience. A man is very excited to hear Shock-Headed Peters once more, and shares his enthusiasm with me.
Someone claiming to be Tricky’s touring guitarist offers to perform with me on stage, possibly when I support The Cribs at their NME in London next month…er, assuming they contact me first.
England lose at football.

The sound you hear is the gorgeous, enflamed tone of Ms Rachel Nagy of The Detroit Cobras, sweating and sweltering but never once losing her poise. Steve Gullick phones, to let me know Plan B looks like Careless Talk Costs Lives from the back: and it’s lacking him. I tell him I know that already. (I’ll share a secret with y’awl here: neither me nor Andrew expected Plan B to appear looking the way it does. We thought we’d actually made it look different. Yes, we are disappointed…but that’s what pilot issues are for.) Steve drunkenly emails the forum to complain at both our magazine and Bright Eyes – he doesn’t do this overtly, but I’m fully aware of his intentions. I like Steve.
Yesterday evening after a Plan B night at Border’s, Brighton, a bearded man who once wrote for UFO magazine and produces television pilots suggests that I drop a copy of Plan B magazine over to the Sussex Arts Club where it is well known cantankerous critic Julie Burchill has a residency. He thinks she’ll hold court. Lovely. I also enjoy films made about people who make films. The talk went fine, thank you – David was composed and frighteningly erudite (thank God he didn’t hold the mic too close, he might have shown us all up). I rambled and fell back on my usual defence of repetition. Chris seemed confused by the question about whether Issue Zero (the cover you see here on the site) is simply ‘a teaser’. “Well, of course it is…” he smirked. Through familiarity, eager media students taking notes of my lecture bullshit no longer disconcert me. No one mentioned THE MUSIC and that’s a fucking shame.
We should have.
Saturday evening, Jon Slade plays surf and twang guitar in a three-piece composed entirely of Taurus musicians – even says a few words into the microphone (probably “I’m thirsty”).  They’re called Electric Bull, and have a ‘list’ song that contrives to be smart, rude and vaguely spontaneous (although amateurism should never be confused with spontaneity).
So there’s Jon Slade, and he’s as swarthy and unkempt as ever. And there’s his pal Stephanie who dresses like a Teenage Mum, with her four-day teeth and obscene mini-skirt. And on the walls – heralding another clinical performance from the oddly pure Miss Pain (odd, because they aim for a sleazy afterglow from their invigorating electric buzz) – are Rorschach inkblots, and nicotine stains. Pills litter the bar. Bucks fizz is proffered to early risers. Girls dress as nurses. Boys look seedy (as ever). Personality tests afford a five-minute sideline: Hey I’m highly neurotic. We call it ‘moody’ in the 00s.

Life slows down to a crawl.
I’m stuck on a train up to London. I’m stuck in London. I’m stuck playing a Gameboy on a train stuck somewhere in London. I’m stuck with this pornographic teen-fest of a novel, The Wanderers. I wanted to throw some words into this blog somewhere about beauty – beauty and the riotous, geeky, pure dancing of the two brothers from Herman Düne with their stories and travel and travail, and their chugging stop-start rhythms and four-second guitar solos and clouds of cigarette pluming above their bearded, beautiful heads, and their laconic dry wit and enflamed harmonies, and the way everything got stripped so gentle so quiet so beautiful and aware during that cover of Tom Waits with the singing saw… but this is why I wanna quit writing, one of the many maddening reasons.
I had Herman Düne pinned down as somewhere between mediocre and Belle And Sebastian but – oh my God, the laconic wit, the brief brutal-sweet interludes of plangent guitar chiming and ringing out like the Modern Lovers raised on a solid diet of The Velvet Underground (or should that be the other way round?), like all the dream New Zealand bands of the 80s back for one last great hurrah, the brothers Herman dancing and lolloping so gracefully bear bellies hanging out and tales of debauched weed-infested train journeys and remembered loves seeping out, the harmonies so beautiful and beautiful and FUCKING BEAUTIFUL.
I had Herman Düne down as – and this despite Mr Gullick and Mr Vanoli and Mr Clare’s recommendations, despite the fact that David dances like Mr Gullick in slow velvet motion and nods his head likewise, sports a pair of broken shades like The Legend! circa 1991, and all these songs are all new not that I’d know, Mr Vanoli has a tape of another show in France,  three weeks back, and that an entirely new set in itself but nothing from even that performed for the first 40 minutes…and it’s like the Velvets and the travelling bed from Little Nemo In Wonderland and Calvin Johnson and Howe Gelb and Jonathan (of course, because I’ve been listening to hardly anything except his new album for the past month) and all your other cool male friends all got together and decided to not scare you, only comfort you, only hold you close and make you sad make you happy make you sweet make you sour with the cute ghostly wonderment of life.
Something that Royal City singularly failed to do. There’s a reason why Classic Rock was so reviled round these parts formerly, y’know.
And something that The Customers will only ever be able to dream of. Such fluidity! Such easy grace round an amplifier! Such smoking! Such unravelling and ravelling back up of dreams. Oh man. Oh daughter.
And just a quick word to say how much I fucking LOVE Electrelane – they are everything that is good and pure and passionate and melodic and righteous and female and mysterious and wicked about music. Someone grabs my hand. It’s my wife. And we’re dancing to the sweet Sixties sounds of Brighton’s own Phil Spector-tribute act, The Pipettes (matching polka dot outfits, hand movements, perfect two-minute self-aggrandising pop songs and all).
Man, I’m a fucking lucky bastard sometimes.

Keep the roaring silence away.

El canadiense ofrece un intenso concierto tras más de 20 años sin pisar Barcelona

La noche del sábado, el Primavera Sound llegó a su cima con la actuación histórica de Neil Young, congregando a una multitud de admiradores que batía récords de taquilla y coreaba los estribillos de su ídolo, desde aquellos himnos de las décadas de los 60 y los 70 como Down By The River, Heart Of Gold, Cinnamon Girl o My My, Hey Hey, hasta ese rocanrolera Get Behind The Wheel de su último disco, titulado Fork In The Road.

Todo en el festival parecía desembocar de modo natural en esa cita, desde la primera jornada y la gloriosa actuación de Yo La Tengo -cuyos integrantes permanecieron en Barcelona para poder coincidir con Young- hasta el concierto previo al de Toronto, el de los Herman Dune, que renunciaban al bis con estas palabras: “Tíos, pero si va a empezar el concierto de Young”. Y es que pocos músicos han sabido traspasar como él barreras generacionales: siendo parte esencial del espíritu de Woodstock y de aquella generación que tomaría conciencia de sí frente a la guerra de Vietnam, el fecundo Young ha sabido adaptarse a los nuevos tiempos -o mejor, sobrevivir, crear y revolverse contra las injusticias como buen inadaptado-, sin mudar de piel como otros dinosaurios del rock mal envejecidos ni echar mano al tan socorrido revival.

Si los Who prefiguraron en buena medida lo que conocemos como punk, no otro fue el caso de Young, que supo cantar como nadie la resaca pos-hippie y que apadrinaría una década más tarde el movimiento grunge. El concierto, en el que se hacía acompañar por habituales como Rick Rosas o Ben Keith, y en el que contrastaron bien las piezas acústicas con la fiereza eléctrica que es marca de la casa, finalizó con la turbulenta versión de A Day In The Life.

No se podía ir más allá: Young, que aúna la maestría del rockero sexagenario con rebeldía y pasión adolescentes, arrancó las cuerdas a su venerable Gibson.

Fuente: MARINA, Alberto. (2009, 1 de junio). Con Neil Young llegó la tormenta al Primavera. Diario de Sevilla, Cultura.  Recuperado el 07/06/09.

http://www.diariodesevilla.es/article/ocio/437819/con/neil/young/llego/la/tormenta/primavera.html

Imagen: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ogarcia/3581548732/

Nit per la història, la viscuda ahir al Primavera Sound amb les actuacions memorables de Sonic Youth i Neil Young.

La jornada la van obrir The Jayhawks, amb Gary Louris i Mark Olson al capdavant, oferint un dels millor concerts del festival. Temes com Blue, Bad Times, Waiting for the Sun, I’d Run Away i Miss William’s Guitar van ser corejats per la gran multitud que van aconseguir convocar davant l’escenari principal del festival, demostrant perquè són una de les millors bandes de rock americà de tots els temps.

A les 21:15 Neil Young sortia a escena i sonaven els primers acords de Mansion on the Hill, el preludi d’un concert històric. El canadenc va fer tota una exhibició i va apostar per un repertori de somni on van destacar: Cortez the Killer, una contundent Hey Hey, My My, Cinnamon Girl, Pocahontas, Down by the River, Old man i una brutal Rockin’ in a Free World per tancar el concert. Pel bisos es va guardar una versió del A Day in a Life de The Beatles i així va posar punt i final al millor concert de tot el festival, juntament amb el de Sonic Youth.

Kim Gordon, Thurston Moore, Lee Ranaldo i Steve Shelley sortien a escena cap l’ una de la matinada obrint amb Brother James. Els de Nova York segueixen sent intractables en directe. Amb un so perfecte, van repassar els temes del seu imminent i excel.lent nou treball, The Eternal, i clàssics com Hey Joni, Bull in the Heather, The Sprawl, Tom Violence o una espectacular Expressway to your Skull, demostrant el que ja fa temps que són: uns clàssics a l’alçada dels Stones, Beatles o qualsevol banda mítica que us vingui al cap.

Tenint en compte els noms que hi havien a l’escenari principal, la resta de bandes del cartell no ho van tenir massa fàcil; però cal destacar l’actuació dels suecs Herman Düne, els quals van aconseguir omplir l’escenari Rock de Luxe amb el seu excel·lent folk o als nord-americans Deerhunter, demostrant que han deixat de ser una promesa per convertir-se en tota una realitat gràcies a temes com Never Stops o Nothing ever Happened que en directe van sonar encara millor que en estudi.

En definitiva, possiblement el millor Primavera Sound de tots. Podrà superar-ho l’edició del 2010?

Heather downloaded Spotify recently, so we’ve been testing out it’s boundaries by searching for various obscure bands and artists, and checking out some stuff we’ve not heard in a while, or at all. I was listening to the Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory soundtrack, until it got too annoying; somehow it’s just not the same without the psychedelic visuals (sorry about the stupid title someone has given this video):

This was one of my favourite films as a kid, along with perhaps the Aristocats and The Yellow Submarine, which for a while I watched practically every time I went to Christopher’s house (as well as watching that, we often recorded our own radio shows onto cassette – pretty portentous, I suppose):

So as well as reminiscing about my wayward childhood, which at the moment seems to have been as close to a series of psychedelic episodes as you can get without actually taking LCD, we’ve also been listening to some bands that have released CDs that are outside our budget, like Herman Dune, who are really great:

I would love to get hold of a pink bear hat like that one.

So yeah, download Spotify, it’s great. There is a premium service, but the only real benefit is that you don’t have to listen to adverts, which are very infrequent anyway, and mostly seem to be advertising the premium service. Which is strangely self serving and actually quite amusing, rather than annoying.

Toodle-oo!