Feel good hits of the 18th June

1. 'Sleepwalking' - Deerhunter
One of Monomania's two classic Deerhunter tracks - not that, on repeated exposure, the rest of the album (frequently trashy, a bit glam, a whole lot of rollicking fun - unexpectedly so) isn't equally good.

2. 'Alighted' - Chelsea Light Moving
The climax and highlight of Friday's debut UK show at the Village Underground in Shoreditch (some great photos here). There's certainly life in the old dog yet.

3. 'Demons' - The National
Just as I've written off Trouble Will Find Me as nothing special, it starts to sink its teeth into me. Surely I should be wary of dismissing their albums prematurely by now? That said, it doesn't offer much new, despite the illustrious guest list (Owen Pallett, Nico Muhly, Richard Reed Parry, Sufjan Stevens).

4. 'Galang' - MIA
An extraordinary song that, somehow, I don't think I'd ever heard before until recently. It doesn't sound like something in which Justine Frischmann and Steve Mackay might have had a hand.

5. 'And Her Eyes Were Painted Gold' - The Besnard Lakes
Complete with a coda that dares you not to use the adjective "heart-melting". Guilty as charged.

6. 'Reach For The Dead' - Boards Of Canada
I've never been seduced by Boards Of Canada before (though Geogaddi came close), but this - from new album Tomorrow's Harvest - may just have done the trick.

7. 'Things We Be' - Charlie Boyer And The Voyeurs
Who says that too much Television is a bad thing for kids? This is clearly the epitome of NME-approved cool, and it's promising - though for the sake of historical context it's worth pointing out that that organ sound and, to a lesser extent, the vocals make them sound somewhat like long-forgotten dying-days-of-Britpop stragglers Tiger (who were actually significantly better than that implies).

8. 'Winter's Dream' - Merchandise
Still not sure I really like this, or Totale Nite as a whole. Perhaps I do - but I'm yet to be convinced they can genuinely be the Next Big Thing. If they can, and the world really is ready to embrace a black-clad Spandau Ballet drowning in dry ice (even if they are ex-punks, as every article on them ever points out), then I'm more out of touch than I thought.

9. 'Don't Look At Me (I Don't Like It)' - The Lovely Eggs
Very silly indeed. A Marmite band if ever there was one, but if nothing else they had me enjoying a whole load of John Shuttleworth snippets on YouTube last week.

10. 'Hippy Provider' - The Intelligence
Associates of Thee Oh Sees, endorsed by In The Red - another fine tip-off from my mate Dave, as adept as always at turning up goodies.

Laughter in the dark

You know what they say about laughter being the best medicine? Well, it isn't really - unless medicine and medical science are completely useless, that is. Such was the case for Iain Banks, who announced the fact that he had been diagnosed with aggressive and terminal cancer of the gall bladder by claiming to be "officially very poorly" and noting that he'd asked his partner Adele to do him "the honour of becoming my widow".

Banks' final interview, given to Kirsty Wark and screened last week as Iain Banks: Raw Spirit (mystifyingly and shamefully only on BBC2 Scotland), was in much the same vein - not surprising, though, for someone whose novels are so infused with humour of the blackest kind. At one point he joked that some people might suspect his illness was just an invention, a marketing stunt cynically deployed to create sympathy and boost pre-sales of his final book The Quarry. In truth, the programme (and therefore, in a way, Banks' untimely death) won't have done the book any harm; some of the ranting passages performed by John Sessions convinced me I need to buy and read it - just as soon as I've finished Espedair Street and The Wasp Factory (the latter currently destined to be my holiday reading for the next couple of weeks).

In conversation with Wark, Banks was for the most part self-deprecating and modest, claiming that he was nice to everybody by way of compensating for the fact that he was actually innately selfish. That said, he did bristle slightly at the mention of his penchant for fast cars (a penchant rediscovered shortly before his death) and clearly objected to being labelled as a "champagne socialist", though offered little in the way of a convincing defence.

Also, was it just me or was the music he'd composed a bit naff? Just as well he largely stuck to the writing...

Who the fuck?

PJ Harvey MBE, that's who. Not that everyone's chuffed for the two-time Mercury Prize winner. To quote Simon Price, one of the commenters on this site: "PJ Harvey, after an album about the horror [of] imperial war, accepts an MBE from a hereditary monarch and Tory government. Let England Curtsey"...

Quote of the day

"Of the major festivals coming up this summer, such as T in the Park, V, Download, ask yourself how many of them would give space, never mind prominence, to a stage dedicated to promoting leftwing views? Sure, there are other events where the Leftfield could find a home – the Tolpuddle Martyrs festival, the Women Chainmakers festival, the Burston School Strike Rally to name a few – but these are relatively small labour movement gatherings and people would be quick to accuse us of preaching to the converted."

In defending Glastonbury from the charge levelled against it by Richie Hawley, Billy Bragg has a point - the festival is unique in allowing left-wing politics that space. But I wouldn't say this is centre stage, as it once was, and I'm sorry to say that those who can afford to go are less and less likely to take any notice of Bragg and co - many of the unconverted don't want to be preached to, and would much rather be drinking themselves into oblivion at the Pyramid Stage. Bragg doesn't even sound totally convinced by his  arguments himself, to be honest.

Get me, eh? One year of missing out on tickets and already my bitterness is seeping out...

"I am Siegeface"

The full trailer for Alpha Papa: consider your appetite whetted.

Know Your Enemy

"Our users believe it's time for the government to clamp down on Bounty's harassment tactics to obtain data from new mothers. There is a time and a place for direct sales and it's not on postnatal wards, hours after women have given birth. Women rightly expect hospital wards to be a safe place and targeting new mothers at their most vulnerable is simply not on."

OK, so I probably didn't ever expect to be quoting angry Mumsnet representatives on this site, but Justine Roberts and the site's users have a point - I made it myself not so long ago, in connection with an article by Alice Roberts on the subject. It'll be interesting to see if Mumsnet's appeals for a ban are heard or whether Bounty have already got their feet too far under the table for health minister Dan Poulter to be able to unsettle them.

Quote of the day

"PR people and agents have made it known, however, that my actions might have more serious consequences for me so I would like to thank Cowell for not pressing charges. As an act of goodwill, I would also be happy to offer to pay his dry cleaning bill or buy him a new shirt, maybe with a few more buttons at the top."

Natalie Holt on egging Simon Cowell on live TV.

(Thanks to Matt for the link.)

Home and away

The recent incident involving Australian batsman David Warner and England opponent Joe Root may have astonished the world of cricket, but it came as little surprise to me. It took place in Walkabout in Birmingham, you see, and having had the misfortune to not only be there but be there in the company of an Aussie (on Australia Day, no less), I can well imagine that witnessing our bastardisation of Antipodean culture might drive someone to violence...

Not on my watch

Obama Is Checking Your Email, didn't you know?

(Thanks to Adam for the link.)

Quote of the day

"My theory is that it's the most important genre, and I include mainstream as a genre, because it's the only genre that is absolutely concerned basically with the effects of scientific and technological change on human beings and human society and human individuals. Nothing else can tackle that. In the old days, that didn't matter because you tended to die in the same society you were born in. Nowadays society changes around us so quickly that we need a literature that talks to exactly that problem."

I've never really been interested in science fiction, but this eloquent and well-considered defence of the genre from the late Iain M. Banks suggests that I should be.

RIP to someone who faced up to terminal illness with a dry wit and a lack of self-pity.

Know Your Enemy

"You are the worst person I've ever interviewed."

Andrew Neil on Alex Jones, a guest on yesterday's Sunday Politics show. I suspect that Piers Morgan might be in agreement.

Smile! You're not on camera!

Actors Laughing Between Takes: self-explanatory, really, and worth a look - not least for the photo of Gary Oldman and a very young Natalie Portman during the filming of Leon.

(Thanks to Del for the link.)

Virtual insanity

OK, so the tone is frequently irritating, but I found myself murmuring in agreement with the general sentiments of this Guardian article on one of my pet subjects. I'm not an audio equipment nerd but, though of course I could never bring myself to bin my entire physical record collection (just the thought of it genuinely makes me feel quite ill), I can nevertheless understand how music might start to lose its significance and just become aural wallpaper if you did have such a purge and just relied on streaming songs and albums instead. Having everything you want at your fingertips - either with Spotify or video jukeboxes in pubs - devalues the experience of choice, just as digital often devalues the album format as a deliberately sequenced collection of songs.

My iPod has lain unused for several years now - unwisely neglected, perhaps, as it could potentially have enabled me to hear a lot more music while on the move - but I hardly touch iTunes on my laptop these days. Give me the act of selecting something from the shelf or pile beside the stereo and physically setting it playing anyday.

(OK, fair enough - I'm ready for my pipe and slippers. Someone shoot me - not least for the Jamiroquai reference in the post title.)

(Thanks to Matt for the link.)

Quote of the day

"In Britain, the realm of book reviewing is still known as Grub Street though the actual Grub Street vanished long ago. But its occasionally vicious spirit lives on; one of the marks of Grub Street is that the spleen gets a voice. Ripping somebody’s reputation is recognized blood sport. Shredding a new book is a kind of fox hunting that is still legal today. Such critical violence is far less frequent in America. Any even remotely derogatory article in an American journal is called 'negative', and hardly any American publication wants to be negative."

Clive James on the sharp difference between book review styles on either side of the Atlantic. I can't really comment on the validity of the observation, but would say that if it's true then I pity those whose diet consists only of American reviews - call it Schadenfreude, but there's rarely anything so entertaining as a scathing write-up, even one that's unfair. Who wants to read nothing but sympathetic niceties?

(Thanks to Adam for the link.)

Happy birthday

A while back I was moaning about Bounty packs and reps. Well, if only we lived in Finland, where every newborn child gets a maternity box from the government, with (as far as I can tell) no involvement from a profit-making business. Comments beneath the article from Finns suggest that the system isn't perfect, but it certainly sounds significantly better than what we get.

In the main the box contains useful and actually quite substantial items (lots of clothes, for instance), but it amused me to see that also included are condoms. Perhaps the state's way of saying, "Now that you're fully aware of the consequences of sex, you might be wanting these"...

No laughing matter

It's always nice to see the work of Cardiff comedy production company Go Faster Stripe get some exposure in the national media - just a shame that, most recently, it was in connection with the very unfunny subject of Stephen Fry's suicide bid last year.

The long goodbye

Germany's longest word has been officially condemned to the great lexical graveyard in the sky. Good luck to whoever has to chisel it onto the headstone.

Compound nouns are brilliant - why can't we use English like Lego blocks, the way Germans can use German?

(Thanks to Phill for the link.)

One small step for woman, one giant leap for womankind

So, today marks the centenary of Emily Davison's ill-fated intervention in the Epsom Derby - a rather more noble Morpeth-and-derby-and-horse-related act than another recently widely reported, and one of which we Morpethians can actually be proud...

This BBC article gives some useful background on the incident, though I'd recommend catching the Channel 4 documentary Clare Balding's Secrets Of A Suffragette if you can. It includes an intriguing forensic re-examination of the evidence and footage (endorsing the view that Davison didn't set out to commit suicide, but that it wasn't mere accident that the King's horse was targeted) but is also an eye-opening expose of the extent to which she and her fellow suffragettes were brutalised and to which they fought back with civil disobedience and violence. Watching it made the act of putting a cross in a box in a local community centre feel far more significant than it usually does come election day.

Elsewhere, the Guardian's Kira Cochrane has outlined nine lessons the suffragettes taught (or still can teach) their modern-day counterparts. Pussy Riot seem to have been taking notes - certainly as regards the mantra that publicity is power.

'Cyrano Masochiste', anyone?

So, rampant egotist Johnny Borrell is back with a solo album, called Borrell 1 - of course it is. Bad news for eardrums everywhere, but good news for the likes of the Guardian, who have been only too happy to subject the album's tracklisting to mockery.

(Thanks to Abbie for the link.)

Building bridges (and monuments and towers...)

Photos of a selection of world-famous landmarks under construction. The ones of the Eiffel Tower and the various partially completed bridges look particularly surreal.

(Thanks to Zoe for the link.)

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I just managed to catch David Bowie: Five Years before it disappeared from iPlayer, and I'm certainly glad and relieve to have done so.

A collage of archive footage, out-takes and interviews with collaborators together with the odd comment from the man himself (not recent, mind - he's shunned interviews since his comeback), Francis Whately's film focused on five separate years rather than a period of five consecutive years - a wise choice in that it helped to emphasise the regular fundamental shifts in Bowie's perspective and interests, and the personas and albums they inspired.

What was clear was that Bowie's career has been characterised by an extraordinary restlessness. He's never allowed himself to fall into a comfortable furrow or to rest on his laurels, flitting from style to style between albums. Musically, that meant a maverick and daredevil appropriation of everything from rock 'n' roll (Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars) to soul (Young Americans), Krautrock (Station To Station), ambient electronica (Low) and funk (Scary Monsters and Let's Dance) - not cynical exploitation, as it was always borne from genuine passion rather than commercial imperatives. Part of his skill in this respect was to draw astutely upon the input and talents of a tremendous ensemble supporting cast, most of whom contributed their thoughts to the film: Mick Ronson, Robert Fripp, Tony Visconti, Brian Eno, Nile Rodgers.

But - as all those talking heads and more (John Harris, Charles Shaar Murray, even Camille Paglia) were at pains to suggest - it was never just about the music with Bowie; on the contrary, the accompanying visual presentation was equally if not more important. He proved himself to be self-styled in a very literal sense, a consummate shapeshifter and master of endless reinvention, changing identity with such regularity and complete abandon that it was never clear what the "real" David Bowie might be like.

Torygraph critic Michael Deacon has claimed (rightly) that the film's focus was on celebration rather than investigation, which meant that it approached the status of hagiography, with precious little acknowledgement of Bowie's not infrequent missteps. But, for someone so clearly prepared to throw caution to the wind and take risks time and again, it's inevitable that there would be some wrong turns along the way.

Though the tone was generally celebratory, I must admit to being left feeling slightly depressed in one respect. Bowie was a gender-bending and frequently avant-garde pioneer who nevertheless gained significant popularity, which had me pondering where today's Bowies are. Is such broad crossover appeal a thing of the past, now impossible for whatever reason? But then I stopped myself in my tracks - no doubt there ARE plenty of Bowies out there; it's just that I'm too old a fart to be aware of them. Best not to commit to sweeping dismissive generalisations about other generations or to succumb to rose-tinted "It were better in my day" nostalgia.

The film also prompted me to remember I need to review Tate Liverpool's Glam! exhibition at some point...

Out of Office

So The US Office has finally closed its doors after more than 200 episodes - a sad loss to the sitcom world. Though I admit to being very sceptical at first, I'd actually say I prefer it to the UK version.

Jonny Dymond's assessment on the BBC site largely hits the right notes in distinguishing the differences between the two - though his characterisation of both is perhaps a little too oversimplistically black and white. The US version, he claims, was infused with a typically American "sunny optimism" while the UK original had "a leaner cast and a bleaker outlook".

The larger cast of the US version was definitely to its advantage, as was the number of seasons, which allowed for greater development of the peripheral characters as well as those central to the action - the UK version was much the poorer for not having a Creed Bratton, for a start.

But the US version's humour did have an edge, at times - and I'd argue Dymond's assessment as "bleaker" also underestimates what lay at the heart of the UK version, which also had some characters to whom you could warm. The Christmas special in particular took it beyond the relatively narrow confines of comedy and into the broader realm of drama, and brilliantly so.

Feel good hits of the 31st May

1. 'Colour Yr Lights In' - The Besnard Lakes
Typically majestic prog-shoegaze from Montreal's most underrated band. If there's any justice, Until In Excess, Imperceptible UFO will catapult them to serious attention (the attention they deserved for its two predecessors, I hasten to add).

2. 'Mute' - Youth Lagoon
In which Trevor Powers shifts decisively up a gear. A tremendous introduction (well, second track) to new album Wondrous Bughouse.

3. 'GMF' - John Grant
As first heard on Later..., when I was mesmerised by (among other things) his overactive eyebrows. Lyrically in particular, this is wonderful, and musically too - sort of Rufus Wainwright gone Americana. Just a shame the other two tracks he played didn't come close to matching - otherwise his new record Pale Green Ghosts would have been high on the shopping list.

4. 'Except Death' - !!!
I haven't heard the Daft Punk album yet, but suspect that those foaming at the mouth about it might find plenty to entertain on !!!'s newie Thr!!!er, which takes a step away from the punk-funk in the direction of clubland.

5. 'Despair' - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
The critical consensus seems to be that Mosquito is a bit of a mess, and I'm not about to disagree. It does have its moments, though - this being one of them.

6. 'Joa' - Disappears
Krautrock cominatcha via New York. A drumbeat courtesy of Steve Shelley that just doesn't quit.

7. 'Bathroom Laughter' - Pissed Jeans
Deliciously unpleasant song, deliciously unpleasant band, deliciously unpleasant video. The natural heirs to The Jesus Lizard? Must investigate their back catalogue.

8. 'I Like It Small' - Mudhoney 
Mark Arm proclaiming his punk rock manifesto. Are you sure you really do like it small, Mark, or are you just saying that because your band are right back where you started, on Sub Pop?

9. 'Start The Day Right' - Field Music
How can such intelligent, creative music come out of Sunderland? Wonders will never cease etc etc.

10. 'Family' - Hanni El Khatib (NSFW)
Dirty, zero-fuss garage rock accompanied by a video featuring topless Japanese rebels raking around on motorcycles. What's not to like?

Ox marks the spot

My Reasons To Be Cheerful Part II series may have ground to a halt - perhaps a good thing given the curse it seems to bestow on its featured subjects - but the Guardian offered its own version earlier in the year, with a little help from a handful of well-known locals. I'll endorse the view of Stornaway's Brian Briggs about Cowley Road ("about as alternative as Oxford gets") and admit shamefully to having not yet visited the Ashmolean. I've heard good things about the Turl Street Kitchen, too, so hope to try it at some point - not least because it was formerly the QI Building, the first in my series.

(Thanks to David for the link.)

Better Later than never

It had been a while since I'd watched Later..., so it was a real treat to turn on last Friday and catch Low midway through 'Waiting'. Better still was the subsequent rendition of 'Just Make It Stop', one of the best tracks on yet-to-truly-win-me-over new album The Invisible Way.

An apposite song title and sentiment, as it turned out, given that the show's headline act were Stereophonics. 'Indian Summer' sounded like an even more anodyne attempt at Bryan Adams, while listening to Jools Holland blow smoke up Kelly Jones' arsehole as the latter misunderstood the meaning of the word "philosophically" was excruciating.

Still, that sort of thing can be forgiven for the fact that the show continues to expose viewers to a wide variety of fascinating acts. Friday's curios included Lebanese artist Yasmine Hamdan, Melt Yourself Down (featuring former members of Acoustic Ladyland and Polar Bear - hence the duelling saxophonists) and former Czars frontman John Grant, whose confession to being the "greatest motherfucker you're ever going to meet" helped make 'GMF' the showstealer ('Blackbelt' was an odder and markedly less successful diversion into electro, though).

We're in this together

He did it when Maggie died and he's done it again in the wake of Lee Rigby's death in Woolwich - Russell Brand has penned a more thoughtful reaction piece than you'll find in most of the papers. His plea for unity and compassion rather than division may seem characteristically idealistic and perhaps somewhat futile, but he will no doubt have been heartened to hear about the healing powers of football, custard creams and cups of tea in York.

It was disappointing to find Newcastle selected as the venue for a mass EDL march on Saturday, and though there were representatives from around the country present, several knuckleheads took to the streets in their Toon shirts, as though determined to give us Geordies a bad name. While the EDL (and the BNP, whose leader Nick Griffin visited the crime scene in Woolwich last week) seem determined to use the soldier's murder for their own political ends, it's gratifying to know that Help For Heroes remain resolute in giving them the cold shoulder.

(Thanks to Chris and Dave for the second and third links respectively.)

Sleep is for the weak

Babies don't seem to understand logic, it seems. Who knew? If you're tired, then you should go to sleep - otherwise you'll end up overtired and crotchety. Fairly simple, you'd have thought. But no - Stan's current fascination with the world around him is currently such that catching up on his kip is the very last thing he wants to do, and I find myself hoping (no doubt not for the last time) that this is just a temporary phase...

All that said, he is now interacting and smiling - and the smooth certainly does outweigh the rough.

Quote of the day

"When we have a queen who is a lesbian and she marries another lady and then decides she would like to have a child and someone donates sperm and she gives birth to a child, is that child heir to the throne? ... It's like one of my colleagues said: we've got to make these same sex marriages available to all. It would lift my worries about inheritance tax because maybe I'd be allowed to marry my son. Why not? Why shouldn't a mother marry her daughter? Why shouldn't two elderly sisters living together marry each other?"

Did someone say "mad, swivel-eyed loon"? Right on cue, up pops Norman Tebbit.

(Thanks to Matt for the link.)

Unsonic youth

So apparently young fans are being priced out of going to music festivals. Not really news, is it? Ticket prices comfortably into three figures for most big events are going to be prohibitive to pretty much anyone reliant on pocket money - and that's not to mention all the additional costs (transport, booze and food).

A couple of years back the Eavises acknowledged that the complications of Glastonbury's ticket-buying process had resulted in fewer young attendees, though I don't recall them also accepting that the ticket price might be a factor. It would be interesting to know if they feel they've been able to redress the balance, and if so how they achieved this.

How to feel about the trend generally? On the one hand, young festival-goers are the lifeblood, without whom festivals don't really have much of a future, but on the other festival overheads are increasingly large and personally I don't feel that ticket prices are that unreasonable considering what you get for your money (at Glastonbury in particular). In 2005, for instance, I had the immense pleasure of seeing Brian Wilson, and later discovered that to catch him elsewhere on his UK tour would have cost £60, significantly more than a third of the Glastonbury ticket cost at the time. I'd also have to admit I like the fact that festivals aren't unwelcoming to a thirty-something music fan desperate to cling to the last vestiges of his youth...

Will festival saturation point result in reduced ticket prices, or just fewer events? I suspect the latter.

(Thanks to Adam for the link.)

In a manner of speaking

Ah, euphemisms - you've got to love them. Creative ways of not spelling something out, but giving enough of an indication as to what you're actually referring to. Sometimes (often?) they come into being inadvertently, when people are trying to squirm their way out of a particularly tight and embarrassing spot. Such is the case with most of those compiled in this recent BBC article, which among other things explains the root of that classic journalistic shorthand for "drunk", "tired and emotional". Certainly it's more colourful than "under par", the phrase used by a spokesman when Radio Stoke presenter Paula White had to be taken off air last week...

I recently finished reading The Dead Beat, in which author Marilyn Johnson extols the joys of obituaries. At one point she touches on the fact that they often contain a kind of euphemistic code that allows the author to be covertly critical of or rude about his or her subject in a type of writing that usually takes the form of a tribute. So "sociable" means "alcoholic", "gave colourful descriptions of his exploits" equates to "liar" and "flirtacious" translates as "sex-pest" or "nymphomaniac". Johnson's book (as well as Radio 4's Last Words) convinced me I should start reading obituaries more regularly, and spotting the euphemisms is all part of the appeal.