I remember when I first started writing Song, by Toad, people when they first latched onto the site would occasionally refer to the not all that infrequents bursts of rage and frustration with the music industry as ‘a breath of fresh air’ and stuff like that, for the simple reason that if I thought something was fucking shit, then I would say so.

I had noticed that sort of post becoming less frequent myself over the last couple of years, and even Mrs. Toad remarked the other day that random outbursts of rage were becoming really quite rare.

I thought about this, and I think that the reason no-one in the music industry has any balls when it comes to the simple task of telling it like it is – on the face of it, quite a simple thing to do – is the same as the reason that I tend to be quite tame these days myself: you get to know everyone, you become friends with them, and it becomes almost impossible.

If I turn around and say ‘all the venues in Edinburgh are shit’, what does that say to my friend Nick, who works his arse off to make Sneaky Pete’s one of the best.  And what if I say ‘the NME is fucking rubbish’ and someone thinks, ‘oh, I might review this nice album by Inspector Tapehead, but I wonder what this Song, by Toad thing is…’ You get my point.

Toadcast #127 – The Eggcast

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01. Arcade Fire – Month of May (01.37)
02. Takeda – A Million Years (10.58)
03. Adelaide’s Cape – Anchored Down (15.55)
04. Yo La Tengo – Outsmartener (26.44)
05. Skuobhie Dubh Orchestra – Eggshell Miles (33.49)
06. The Last Battle – Ruins (36.44)
07. The Mountains and the Trees – More and More and More (47.11)
08. Liars – The Overachievers (50.45)
09. The Recovery Club – Rest and Be Thankful (53.54)
10. Meursault – Hey Joe (Daniel Johnston Cover) (62.49)

[This week's Sunday Supplement is brought to you by Jenny Soep (pronounced 'Soup'), who has made it her mission to hunt down 'bloody good gigs' and draw her experience of them onto paper. A bit more time-consuming than taking a photo. But that's what she does, and she's pretty damned good at it, if you ask me.  Last weekend Jenny was at the Matt Groening ATP, where she captured the moments below. You can see more of her stuff over on her own blog, which you should obviously take a look at.]

Hello folks. This is the complete antithesis of Song By Toad, as in no words of wisdom, complaint, rant or fancy shall flow forth from my firmly clamped bouche.

Not this time anyway.

Instead I am offering up the following laid out on a delightfully sparkly silver platter for you to feast your eyes and cogitating mind upon.  They are (this bit is the informative bit, so pay attention) all drawings, hand-drawn from the press pit at Matt Groening’s most fabulously embroidered-together festival set list.  I will admit they’re not the actual papery drawings – that would be impossible, and some skull-duggery has been afoot with photoshop as you may notice, but all the squiggly sketch-like marks you see on the images were done during the live performance of each artist.  I have lightened or darkened some areas to suit my memory, and for just a bit of fun really. However it has meant about 24 hours extra work that I never intended.

Yes I met Matt Groening. Yes I was inwardly spasm-dancing-about-manic-excited, but yes, I activated my super-secret-superficial-forcefield to appear composed and unaffected.  Most people at the festival met Matt, and a huge amount even got photos complete with cuddles and probably even a leg over, signed and doodled-on posters, t-shirts and other extremities, some folks queueing for hours without titbit. I however, got Matt’s email address, and the cute little lady that was with him – could have been his wife, could have been his PA. She asked specifically for my contact details. So let’s see if anything comes of it.

Meanwhile, I got a cracking load of drawings done of the best music festival I’ve had the joy of infiltrating.  Got the attention of most of the musicians, met a good few of them impressing them with my doodle power before exiting with a flourish and a promise of a copy to be mailed toute-de-suite in the digital post before a fortnight was dead and gone.

So here you are. The first instalment of my favourite acts of Matt Groening’s ATP and his delicious music taste quenchers. Enjoy.

I’ll be sticking them up on my own neglected blog at some point soon with the rest of ‘em. (PS You may have noticed, being an observant bunch, I chucked in an extra drawing of Pavement who are curating and playing their own ATP this precise weekend. I drew it at their Barrowlands gig the week before. It was an excellent but thickly steamy hot gig. I was sweating and I was just in the press-pit holding a sketchbook. Pansy.)

Click on the thumbnails below to open a larger image…

I don’t mean to irk the purists in the first sentence, but I am not quite the slavering Daniel Johnston acolyte I might be.  I went because I find his stuff intriguing, because loads of bands I love hold him in such high regard, but largely because I was curious about how someone quite so halting, awkward and, lets face it, weird ended up being such a cult hero for so many people.

I arrived late, due to radio commitments, so I missed pretty much everything up until Laura Marling’s support slot which was… decent.  Whenever I see someone like her who is, if not actually famous at least indie famous, I find myself wondering ‘If I didn’t know who she was and this was the first time I saw her in some ropey club or other, would I be falling over myself to release her records?’  In this case the answer is definitely no.  She seemed nice, she can certainly write a tune, but I am left pretty much entirely unmoved by her music I am afraid, and the solo acoustic setting did nothing much to improve on my impression of the album, which was equally indifferent.

Johnston on the other hand is a different prospect entirely.  He seems comfortable enough in the presence of the crowd, even reassured by it, which is slightly contrary to the (admittedly arbitrary) picture I’d managed to build in my head of him.  The first few songs are just him and an electric ukulele, and I don’t know enough to say for certain, but it seemed very much like he could barely play it.  I don’t know if this is simply a skill he has been unable to acquire despite what must be tons of hours of practise, or whether he’s actually really good and just plays in fumbling style, which I suppose is possible.  It seemed a lot like the former to me though, I have to confess.

These songs, despite the playing, and maybe because of the more basic sound, are the ones I like the most.  There’s something captivating about his stumbling musicianship and uncertain delivery which resonates so perfectly with his lyrics that it makes the songs seem all the more true in this format, something which the more polished band numbers can’t ever quite achieve.

When the Wave Pictures come on to play as Johnston’s backing band the results are a little patchy.  It’s not the fault of the band at all, but I personally just felt that some songs worked better than others, and there were defintely times when the plain vanilla bass and drums simply eroded the individualism of Johnston’s songwriting.  It could be a little smothering, basically.

Then again, maybe that’s how he sees himself.  For someone who seems to utterly disregard most basic songwriting axioms when he sits down to write, the three Beatles covers in this set seem to imply that he does harbour more straighforward pop instincts in there somewhere.  Even with their weird structures, his own songs are often successful because they do still contain a lyric simple yet so honestly, obviously true that it has the same impact as a memorable rhyming couplet.  And for all he can barely play them, he can certainly write guitar hooks.

Maybe that’s why the Beatles covers get such a cheer – maybe that kind of sudden statement of unselfconscious joy is at the heart of his popularity.  It’s a weird kind of shotgun marriage: the awkward, uncomfortable, vulnerability which is broken here and there with the musical equivalent of a sunny smile.  He has the shakes something rotten, and his lyrics are raw and unflinching, and he sounds like his voice will crack at any moment, and yet when he decides to hold a note he obviously can do, and he seems genuinely cheered by the love coming from the crowd.

So for all I don’t know his music that well, I can see from this gig how people get so engrossed in Daniel Johnston.  It really is all just out there for you to see: there seem to be no barriers at all between him and his audience.  And despite the age of Johnston himself, all the awkward but nevertheless very hip teenagers in the Queen’s Hall seem to be beside themselves in rapture.   But I think by the end of the night, that I just about get it. It was an odd gig though – really good, but almost more of a social experience than a musical one in many ways.  For me anyway.  For a good proportion of the people there it was as damn near a religious experience as they are likely to get.

Daniel Johnston – Life in Vain

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Daniel Johnston – True Love Will Find You in the End (His only encore – now that was a privilege!)

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MySpace | More mp3s | Buy from Amazon

Well this is a bit of a big week for Song, by Toad Records.  Apart from the fact that the Loch Lomond/Builders & the Butchers split 12″ is now officially available to buy, we also have the Meursault single launch on Saturday, with three of my favourite bands.  We’re releasing four A-sides on two 7″ singles, on clear vinyl: new recordings of William Henry Miller Parts One and Two are going back to back with A Few Kind Words and the Dirt & the Roots from Pissing on Bonfires/Kissing With Tongues.  Officially, neither single is being released until the first week of December, but they will be available at live shows from this week onwards, including all tour dates the boys are playing over the next few weeks – details on their MySpace page.

Edinburgh’s best DIY arts venue, The Bowery, officially opened a year ago this week (or so), and the single launch just happens to be their first birthday party. The Edinburgh University Settlement, however, are getting rid of Ruth and Jane and taking the whole place over, so by the end of December the Bowery as we know and love it will cease to exist.  I am trying to get in touch with the Settlement themselves to find out exactly why they are doing this, and what alternatives they are putting in place, but in terms of the artistic community in this city this looks like nothing short of a bloody disaster.

Basically, this means that we have two months left to enjoy the place and show our gratitude to Ruth and Jane for the incredible amount of hard work they have put into giving us all such a special place to go and drink and to see live music, so please come along as often as possible over the next two months in order to give them the best send off we can manage.

Wednesday 4th November 2009: Daniel Johnston, The Wave Pictures & Laura Marling at The Queen’s Hall.

As marquee gigs go, this is the best Edinburgh has had for a long time.  Apart from the general elusiveness of Daniel Johnston himself, this is treat for the entire lineup.  In terms of wonky, off-kilter, sometimes painfully personal lyrics you won’t find better, but the key bit is how deceptively poppy the songwriting can be from both Johnston himself and support band the Wave Pictures.

Daniel Johnston – Foxy Girl

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Thursday 5th November 2009: Withered Hand, Candythief & James Lowe play the Leith Tape Club at the Iso Lounge.

This is a really cracking lineup for the Leith Tape Club.  Most people here will know Withered Hand’s brilliant anti-folkery, but I highly recommend the flamboyantly orchestrated pop of Candythief as well.  I’ve no idea how it will strip back to the bare-bones approach necessitated by the Tape Club, but I’m keen to hear it.

Withered Hand – Withered Hand

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Saturday 7th November 2009: Meursault, Withered Hand & Jesus H. Foxx at the Bowery.

As lineups go, if I were the sort who spent his time masturbating to music, I would spank myself raw to the mere thought of this one.  Probably whilst lying in a bath full of lovely clear vinyl!

Meursault – A Few Kind Words

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Saturday 7th November 2009: Sara & the Snakes, Mitchell Museum & The Last Battle play Limbo at the Voodoo Rooms.

It’s good to see the Limbo chaps back in the saddle.  Mitchell Museum are mental live, and the Last Battle have formed from the ashes of local band Thieves in Suits, and since then I have heard some really good things about them.

Mitchell Museum – Arthur Loves the Shadows

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Saturday 7th November 2009: Mark Eitzel & Franz Nicolay at Cabaret Voltaire.

Hmm, I’m not sure you really want all these good gigs on on a night when you’re trying to have a successful single launch, but this lineup looks really interesting.  Hailing from American Music Club and The Hold Steady respectively, I don’t know too much about either man’s solo material, but the bands they are/were both in before can be pretty bloody excellent.

Mark Eitzel – Patriot’s Heart (Live)

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Yes, we’re back on the air with a somewhat hastily arranged programme.  I somehow managed to only realise on Monday that this show would be going out today, so we haven’t been all that big on preparation this week, I’m afraid.

There’s a slightly new format to the show this year, in that I will be joined on every broadcast by Ruth from the Bowery, and that there will be a live session performance from a band of our choice every week as well, with the video of this performance going up in the post for the following week’s show.

On air 7pm-8.30pm GMT – listen here.

This week we will be joined by Edinburgh newcomer Thomas Western, who has only just moved up here and is just starting to introduce himself to the local music scene.  He’ll be playing a few songs – maybe three or so, depending on time – picking some tunes and talking pish with Ruth and myself.

The tracklisting will appear below and be updated live during the show, so feel free to add abuse and nonsense in the comments.  Like you ever need asking…

1. The Walkmen – The New Year
2. Thomas Western – Live session track so new it’s not been named yet!
3. Jesus H. Foxx – Elegy For the Good Times
4. The Builders & the Butchers – Down to the River
5. Bonnie Prince Billy – The World’s Greatest
6. Thomas Western – The Worm Forgives the Plough (Live in Session)
7. Diamond Rings – All Yr Songs
8. The National – Fake Empire
9. The Douglas Firs – Grow Old and Go Home
10. Daniel Johnston – Walking the Cow
11. Thomas Western – Don’t Talk (Put Your Hand On My Shoulder) (Live in Session)
12. The Oldham Brothers – Wouldn’t It Be Nice (Beach Boys Cover)
13. Thomas Western – Your Front Door (Live in Session)
14. Meursault – William Henry Miller Pt. 2 (Vinyl Version)

I enjoyed reading this little bit in the Times about a judge in Manchester getting stuck into some goddamn awful talk show because it provoked one of its guests into nutting someone on air.  The quote from the Times piece is here:

“The circumstances of this case are exceptional and the provocation involved seems to be paramount. I have had the misfortune of viewing The Jeremy Kyle Show and I feel bound to make some observations.

“It seems to me that the whole purpose of the show is to effect a morbid and depressing display of dysfunctional people who are in some kind of turmoil. It is for no more and no less than titillating members of the public who have nothing better to do with their mornings than sit and watch this show, which is a human form of bear-baiting under the guise of entertainment. The people responsible for this, namely the producers, should in my opinion be in the dock with you, Mr Staniforth.”

Good.  Fuck the producers of these things and fuck the audiences too. This must be one of the most utterly unedifying sights in modern culture, how we get together to mock, deride and humiliate the weak and the foolish in our society.  I am not saying they aren’t entertaining because I find them compellingly awful myself – they are the very epitome of car crash TV.  But I do not and will not watch them.  Circus talk shows, the love of reality TV, the mobs who gang up to attack paediatricians, the howls of self-righteous outrage that accompany press witch-hunts – they’re all part of the same ugly instinct and I really wish we knew better than to indulge it.

The people who watch shows like this remind me of the outraged mob who formed when the children who killed James Bulger were released in 2001.  Most of those people were dreadful human beings going about making threats and getting on their high horses about something for no other apparent reason than to simply manage to give their own lives a sheen of validity by forcibly making the point that no matter how worthless they were as individuals, at least they weren’t as bad as  those two Evil Child Murderers.  It had nothing to do with the issues at hand, it was just personal validation through facile, hysterical self-righteousness.

With talk shows the mechanism seems to be similar: part of the enjoyment of watching is intrinsically related with boosting our own self worth by claiming acres of distance between our own normal, banal lives and the freaks that are on the telly.  With Venables and Thompson, at least they actually did something bad.  The reaction to it was disgusting to behold, but they at least were responsible themselves, although given they were ten at the time, the extent is debatable.

In the talk show scenario all the exhibits need to do to deserve our vicious taunting and ridicule is to be dysfunctional.  Or stupid.  Or weak.  We are rounding up the lame and the impotent, putting them on show like animals and then provoking them to do something humiliating so we can all laugh at them.  How is this different from the early years of boxing, where some folks would ’round up a couple a niggers’ and make them batter each other to a bloody, comatose pulp for the entertainment and sport of the white audience?  This is the level at which the producers of these shows find themselves.  Congratulations.  You must be very proud.  How is this any different from dog fighting?  The only difference is that neither being mentally deficient, rather than actually brain damaged, nor emotionally crippled are currently recognised as being part of a neatly defined ‘minority’ deserving of protection or pity.

If you watch this shit you are essentially enjoying the humiliation of the weak to make yourself feel better and you should be abjectly fucking ashamed of yourself.  Is it any wonder bullying is on the rise in schools?  This is why I hate the Pete Doherty Tabloid Circus.  That is why watching these idiotically vain celebrities and pseudo-celebrities make fools of themselves for us all to laugh at on reality TV turns my stomach.  That’s why I felt such a dick for posting that Britney rant the other week.  Yes, they are culpable themselves and yes, it is compelling in a rather gut-wrenching way.  But we should have some fucking dignity and have our fun at the expense of someone capable of defending themselves for a change.

So, erm… Christ.  What songs do I put with that little honey, then?

Radiohead – Karma Police
Daniel Johnston – Like a Monkey in the Zoo
Eef Barzelay – Ballad of Bitter Honey
Bob Dylan – Who Killed Davey Moore?
Pearl Jam – Jeremy