We both hate Valentine’s day and have no desire to take part in its consumerist pantomime.  It seems to have created its own little rituals in our house though: we have an annual Valentine’s hate-fest, which lasts a couple of days, where we pour scorn on both the event itself and anyone who takes part in it.  The problem is, in doing so, we have sort of made ourselves part of what gets on our own nerves.  Fucking people and their fucking stupid valentine’s traditions like, er… this one.

This is only the second in what will probably become an annual Valentine’s Scorn-o-rama, but it already feels like a time-honoured tradition.  So if you’re single, generally antagonistic, miserable, lonely or just plain indifferent then this is the podcast for you.  We even have an odd conversation where we wonder what the point of marriage is – a slightly bizarre thing for a married couple to start wondering about.  But that’s the Toadcasts for you.

Toadcast #56 – Valentine’s Schmalentine’s

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01. Nirvana – Rape Me (00.57)
02. Weeping Willows – Failing in Love (06.39
03. Cherry Poppin’ Daddies – When I Change Your Mind (13.36)
04. The White Stripes – Conquest (16.04)
05. Tammy Wynette – D.I.V.O.R.C.E. (22.38)
06. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds – She’s Leaving You (25.32)
07. Yo La Tengo – Stockholm Syndrome (35.26)
08. Aidan Moffat & the Best Ofs – Oh Men! (42.33)
09. The Avett Brothers – The Ballad of Love & Hate (45.36)
10. Arab Strap – There is No Ending (59.09)

First things first: business, I’m afraid.  We are trying to organise a UK tour for Meursault.  Given I have never organised a tour before, I thought I might enlist the help of my Toady friends, because you know about the place where you live far better than I do.

Basically, if there is a venue or a promoter in your neck of the woods who you think I should get in touch with, please let me know.  We’re just looking for someone who puts on vaguely Toad-friendly lineups in half-decent places and is likely to draw a reasonable crowd.  Not massive, of course, but they don’t want to be playing in front of five neds in the local Slug & Lettuce if we can avoid it.  The venues don’t have to be massive – 50 would do the trick, as long as it is likely to be quite busy.  Basically, you know the kind of gigs myself and my Edinburgh pals go to around here, so if you think you can hook us up with one of those please let me know – no matter if it’s Dundee, Dubai or Droylsden.  Well actually, not Dubai, because we can’t afford the air fare.  So there we go, if you want to see Meursault appear in a town near you in May, just point me in the right direction and I’ll do the rest.

Now, back to the more serious business of disrupting everyone’s Friday productivity, which I don’t believe for a second was up to much to begin with.  Are you all looking forward to our Valentine’s podcast tomorrow?  It won’t be pretty, I can promise you that.  We will get home, heat up some fine scran, pour a couple of whopping gins and burble our way through an hour of misanthropy and cynicism for your listening pleasure.  Fantastic.  Then, in the evening, I will leave Mrs. Toad by herself in the house and bugger off out to a gig by myself.  Romantic as fuck, aren’t we?

Now, I’ve seen your conversations on Facebook walls, there is no privacy in the 21st Century, so I know there are lurkers out there who can’t quite be arsed to join in.   Well fuck you, get off your lazy backsides and play along!  Haven’t you heard of the ancient Chinese proverb which states that ‘Those who do not play nicely with the other Toadlings will not get their hole on Valentine’s Day’.  So unless you want to be chasing the witless, pig-ugly, incoherently drunken dregs of humanity around the dancefloor at a quarter to three on Sunday morning peruse our five questions below, mull it over intelligently for a while, and then jump and say something inappropriate and make a tit of yourself.  Makes a change from me doing it all the time.

1. Most evil elbow you have given.
2. Most evil elbow you have had.
3. Best Valentines present.
4. Most failed attempt at an exotic sexual practice (chocolate smearing etc).
5. Best single sad sack Valentine’s day.

The Wedding Present – Don’t Take Me Home Until I’m Drunk

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Bob Dylan & Johnny Cash – Girl From the North Country

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Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds – The Girl at the Bottom of My Glass

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No Age – My Life’s Alright Without You

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And one for my girl, because she fucking loves this song, and always reaches for this one first when we start playing vinyl in the evening:
Stiff Little Fingers – Alternative Ulster

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Turn the volume up really fucking loud, and enjoy. This video makes me want to weep with happiness.

The key word in that phrase, of course, is if.  There are a massive number of people in the fucking internet age, however, who seem to think that intending to build it is reason enough for people to come and it is really, really getting on my nerves.

Bloggers start blogs, write five posts, and then start making demands about being listed in the Hype Machine or elbo.ws directories immediately, despite it being incredibly fucking clear that it’s going to take at least two months before they’ll even consider you. They are important services and drive a lot of traffic to your site, so I can understand the desire, but please just show some fucking patience.  At least create something of substance before clamouring for people to shower you with praise.

This happens when penis-brained publicists get their hands on a small but promising band as well: the uber-hard sell comes out to play.  “Greatest band ever, set to explode!“  And not infrequently this band has no more than a small handful of songs to their name.

Venture capital-backed start-ups promise to REVOLUTIONISE online music sales/sharing/funding/whatfuckingever and send out these breathless fucking emails full of wind and promises about how you’ve JUST GOT TO BE in from the start.  Do we?  Do we really have to?

People do it to bands all the time.  I can get you on the radio, I can get you this, I can get you that.  And then they just stop paying any fucking attention, it all fails to materialise and the band is left with nothing.

The new mantra for the 21st Century should be more along the lines of: “I don’t care about your fucking plans, your grandiose ideas or your vacant, meaningless promises.  I don’t care what you intend to do, or about your fucking ambitions.  Go away, get your nose to the fucking grindstone and DO something.  Then talk about it.”

Can you tell I haven’t had enough sleep?

Shout Out Louds – Hurry Up, Let’s Go

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The Magnetic Fields – Promises of Eternity

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Micah P. Hinson – Patience

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These guys really were terrific.  Chris Croasdale plays a nylon-stringed guitar at a bloody good pace, the sound of it is fantastic, and the songs seem to build from a stumble to a furious gallop over the course of four or five minutes.  It’s not just the guitar though, this is just a very economically and well-assembled band.  Jonnie Common’s electronic trickery, and the raucous drumming of Roy Shearer all play crucial parts in the music, and all three of them sing.

They don’t seem to play all that often – I’ve only seen them twice in a year and there’s only one other gig listed on their MySpace – and the recording of the album is going rather slowly, but I have to confess that if this is all going to be as good as this then I will be looking forward to it a great deal.

Inspector Tapehead – A Fillet of Bozo

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Inspector Tapehead on MySpace

If there was some sort of prize for enjoying playing live more than any other band then it would be awarded to Over the Wall in a heartbeat, I would imagine.  They seem to be so genuinely delighted with every chance to get up and play that, irrespective of your opinion of their music, it is pretty much impossible not to be caught up in their infectious enthusiasm.

As to the music itself, I have to say I am positively inclined, although some ambivalence remains.  Some of it, like euphoric set-closer Thurso, is just superb.  At times it captures my imagination just a little less, simply drifting into the generic-but-decent pop category.  They’re definitely a band with potential though, and one I will happily see play again.

Over the Wall – A Grand Defeat

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Over the Wall on MySpace

An outstanding Limbo lineup was completed by Edinburgh bleep-hoppers Found (their term, not mine).  A couple of years ago, just after the release of the brilliant This Mess We Keep Reshaping, I saw Found play on a few occasions and absolutely loved them.  I saw them a while ago playing somewhere I don’t entirely remember and they seemed a little bit listless, as if the energy had evaporated somewhat.  This time around that appears to have been fixed, and all the old strut is back in their stride.

Found are another one of these bands who seem to get on really well together as a group and really enjoy playing live.  The mid-song pauses are greeted with extended waits, and general mischievous sniggering all round as they dare one another to be the first to break the silence.  And for all there’s folk in some of it, pop in most of it, and samplelicious bleepery all over the place, the one word that won’t leave my head is ‘funky’.  They are just a damned funky band when they’re on their game, as they were on this particular evening, and an absolute joy to behold.

To help them pay for their trip to SXSW, please don’t forget to buy their promotional album.  And don’t be fucking cheap, either, you’re not all students.  At least two or three pints’ worth.

Found – When You Fall

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Found on MySpace

As news, it went somewhat neglected on these pages because of personal Toad ties to Broken Records, but at the same time as they were signing to 4AD, another excellent Scottish band were making the same commitment, and announcing an imminent new album at the same time: Camera Obscura.

Let’s Get Out of This Country was a brilliant album, and I am hugely looking forward to the new record.  Let’s… took me a while to get into, in large part due to opening with the slightly misleadingly infectious Lloyd, I’m Ready to Be Heartbroken.  The rest of the album, for all it was still catchy of course, was a lot warmer and more enveloping than bouncy and poppy.  So having been wrong-footed from the start it took me just a little while to adjust.  I went to see them a year or so ago and, amazingly, Mrs. Toad both accompanied me and really enjoyed it.  I honestly never have any idea when that’s going to happen, the woman’s completely unpredictable.

Anyhow, they have also, in advance of the release, decided to pass on the title track of the album to the rest of us as a teaser, and here is it: My Maudlin Career.  It’s certainly classic Camera Obscura, and both that shimmer of piano that tiptoes its way through the song and the return of Tracyanne’s gorgeous voice fill me with optimism. It’s out on the 20th April.

Camera Obscura – My Maudlin Career

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Camera Obscura – Super Trouper

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And one from Let’s Get Out of This Country:
Camera Obscura – Razzle Dazzle Rose

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This lovely little EP, available from the band’s MySpace, somehow seems nothing like I would expect from a band from Preston.  Not that I know what I would expect from a band from Preston, but there you go.  The band they remind me of the most is actually the Zutons, albeit a version of the Zutons who have relaxed and decided to sing a Summer afternoon lullaby for a change.

I suppose given my track record, the songs I prefer on this are the ones which are the least poppy.  The poppier the band get, in fact, the closer they get to the likes of the Athlete and the aforementioned Zutons, and then I start to like it a little bit less.  Lotus Eater, for example is probably the catchiest song and what you might call the Obvious Single, but it’s much less my cup of tea that some of the more low-key material.

When they are at their best, in my opinion, they resemble a mellow, relaxed version of a sunny pop band.  A lot of the elements are still there, but it’s all slowed down into an easy, gentle stream, such as you might imagine being played on a sunny weekend afternoon.

Ivan Campo – The Great Procrastinator

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It doesn’t exactly sound anything much like a rock opera, this album, but in some ways it rather inexplicably feels that way to me.  Equally inexplicably, although the sound is cohesive and quite unified, it still seems like a somewhat sprawling album veering wildly from one style to another.  This is probably why it has taken me so long to write my review.

His background is in avant garde composition and free jazz saxophone, so I suppose the fact that the record retains some of this blood is no surprise.  It is still basically an album of songs, as we narrow-minded indie kids would describe them, but if you think of them as composed rather than written that might help build the right sort of picture.

For all the foundations of the album might owe a lot to rock operas past – I’m thinking smatterings of Andrew Lloyd Webber, back when he genuinely was cutting edge, and yes there was such a time before you say anything clever – the actual sound itself reminds me more of the Canadian indie collective bands of a couple of years back.  So yes, Andrew Lloyd Webber writing an early Wolf Parade album, or Broken Social Scene, or something like that.  Clear as mud, isn’t it, but that’s about the best I can do.

Recalling Samamidon’s recent  performances at the Bowery and his free jazz-rooted fiddle reels, it seems there is a kind of music that builds up the levels of difficulty just about until the point where nervous laughter starts to percolate through the audience, and then breaks into brilliant melody once again in a sort of explosive catharsis of deliverance.  This album treads such a path on numerous occasions, and sometimes I wonder if it has always been judged quite right, because occasionally it kind of leaves me a little wanting.

Often, however, this is really very good.  Abyssinia is long, but sustains every one of its ten minutes.  There are pop songs too, sprinkled in amongst the more ambitious moments.  It can be difficult, at times, but if you have the patience to let it sink in and make sure you listen to it as a whole album as often as possible, then I think there is a lot of this album that you will really enjoy.

Scott Pinkmountain & the Golden Bolts Of Tone – Lucy

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Scott Pinkmountain & the Golden Bolts Of Tone – Abyssinia

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David Thomas Broughton is a bit of a genius, really.  I’ve only seen him once before, at the End of the Road Festival two years ago, and for some reason I had been nurturing the impression of a short, slightly awkward chap who bumbled around the stage as a way of masking a slight social unease.  Talking to him before the performance in Glasgow I was somewhat surprised to meet a fairly tall, rather dapper and quite a handsome chap with no more social awkwardness than a slight suspicion of being unwelcomly accosted by a loud mouthed muppet burbling about some blog or other.  Funny how these impressions can form, largely out of nowhere.

Once on stage, Broughton is a genuinely unique performer.  His flair for musical subtleties is uncanny.  He’ll record the faintest tap on a microphone stand and loop it into the textures of the sound he slowly builds, combining guitar phrases, guttural noises and ghostly moans until he feels he is arriving somewhere, and then loosing his beguiling voice into the middle of it all.

He has yet, to the extent of my knowledge, to manage to quite capture the magic of this in a recording, although I’ll admit that I am not anything like familiar enough with his back catalogue to say that with any authority.  Also, quite how you capture his subtle and infectious physical humour, and the magic of seeing his music slowly, carefully and unpredictably assembled in something as one-dimensional as an audio recording is something I couldn’t really imagine trying.  And I can’t imagine being made to think that mere music is desperately inadequate to really convey a musical performance, but watching David Thomas Broughton perform, it seems that’s exactly what it is.

David Thomas Broughton – Ambiguity

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David Thomas Broughton on MySpace

Sorry this is so late, but well… oh fuck it, never mind.  If you want a timely and professional service you can wait three weeks for the next issue of Q magazine to come out.

I was warned that this gig would be ‘quite an experience’ and various other non-specific things beforehand, but in actual fact it was nothing of the sort: it was simply a straightforward pop gig.  And a very good one.  Front man Cammy leaps around like a loon, to the point that you can actually find yourself wondering whether or not he might be putting it on.  It really doesn’t seem that way though, although the manic grins do take a little getting used to for those of us used to standing at the back of gigs and gently nodding our heads along to the music.

In terms of the music, there is a much more orthodox aura to the band when on stage.  Listening to their music I found them to be genuinely interesting, and at times downright bizarre – thumping spastic mentalism is, I think, the term I used.  Watching them on stage they have a pretty straightforward indie-pop setup: drums, bass, guitar and keys, and this makes the music slightly less eccentric in this setting.  It also lets me understand a little better how songs like their recent single, Warning Bells, fit in with the rest of their repertoire, something I had struggled with a little before this show.

It really was nothing like I was expecting, but in a different way that I had imagined.  I had somehow, particularly with the raised eyebrow warnings of others, led myself to believe that this would be some kind of weird experience that would blow my mind, whereas actually it was the opposite.  A band who I had sort of assumed to be quite left-field showed that they were a little more straightforward than I had realised, by giving an energetic, riff-laden performance which slightly wrong-footed me.  After a couple of songs I adjusted and once I had, I really enjoyed the gig.

It was weird though.  They were really good, but because everyone had told me they would be nothing like what I was expecting, they ended up being nothing like what I expected, because in fact they were pretty much like I might have expected had everyone not told me that… well, you get the picture.  Basically, I’m really looking forward to seeing them again.

Mitchell Museum – Arthur Loves the Shadows

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Mitchell Museum on MySpace