Song, by Toad

Posts tagged hawksley workman

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Friday is Not a Superstar DJ, it is a Very Naughty Boy

DJ CAT Yes, this weekend I am a superstar DJ, or at least I get to kid myself that I am one.  Apart from full-on dancey, mixey, beat-matching stuff (and even then I have my doubts) I have never thought of DJing as much of a skill, I have to confess.  As I said in the comments section of a thread discussing this ages ago, however, if it’s possible to do it badly, which it clearly is, then it must be a skill.  Still, irrespective of not really knowing what I am doing, and the dubious merits of my presence to everyone else, someone like me is always going to enjoy forcing their music taste on other people and that is exactly what I am going to do: relax, get pickled on gin, and play a lot of tunes.

First a Cabaret Voltaire tonight as part of the excellent Oxjam Take Over Edinburgh night (which will sadly prevent me getting to see lots of bands I would like to see, but there you go).  I might play more raucous stuff at this one – the situation seems to call for it, what with Friday night drinking and so on.  The the following day I am popping down to the Bowery to play some tunes at MarchéMarché, a craft fair which will have some live music and things going on as well, and generally sounds like a lovely day.

Other than that, my friend Andrew is visiting from London this weekend, which is excellent.  I remember from living in London that it’s all too easy to expect people in the provinces to come to you, albeit for no better reason that laziness.  Mind you, if you had to make an hour’s journey just to have a pint with a mate then you’d bloody well expect other people to make an effort, I suppose, wouldn’t you.  In any case, Andrew and Natalie aren’t really like that because they’ve come to see us twice since we’ve been here, which is more than anyone else from down there.  London: about twelve million people; Scotland: about six.  Weird, when you think of it.

So here we are once again, at the end of a very talkative week on Song, by Toad.  But it’s not all about the big-mouths remember, Friday is as ever a de-lurking amnesty and a chance for the quiet people who just potter by and marvel at the madness to get involved themselves and see just how much of an embarrassment they can make of themselves.  Let’s face it, the rest of us are pretty good at that already.  And remember, Fives first, then pish, not the other way around.

1. If you were a DJ, what would be the most inappropriate song you would like to play and the most inopportune moment?
2. Song for your funeral.
3. Song you’d like to sneak onto the record player at your worst enemy’s funeral, just to ruin it.
4. Name a fantasy cover version you’d love to hear.
5. Name a fantasy duet you’d love to hear.

And here, after all the moaning I’ve done about cover songs this week, are some covers I really like, for various reasons:

The Gourds – Gin & Juice (This may be the best cover of all time.)

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Hawksley Workman – Bankrobber (Just weird, but good.)

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Heather Nova – I’m on Fire

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The Specials – Guns of Navarone

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The Dead Kennedys – Viva Las Vegas

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Three Thursday Thespia… No, Wait

Food Lines

On Sunday I make my DJ debut at the Flying Duck in Glasgow, where I have rather foolishly agreed to play records after a Men Diamler, Animal Magic Tricks, Withered Hand and Meursault gig.  That’s some lineup, but I will probably spend most of it convinced that the simple task of playing one record after another will for some reason prove to be beyond me.  Lets face it, DJs are fucking idiots, so if they can do it then surely to fucking god I can do it.  Presumably you have to do something clever every once in a while just to prove that you are somehow better than the shuffle function on a discerningly stocked iPod, but I doubt I’ll bother.

Mrs. Toad is around this weekend for a little while, before buggering off to Australia for ten days, which is crap (the buggering off, not the being around).  Still, it should help me get the Pictish Trail Toad Session finished, which would be fun.  We’re going out for a meal tonight in a half-hearted attempt to spend some time together before she vanishes again, so there should be a late, drunken podcast and plenty of swearing by lunch time tomorrow.

On the subject of tomorrow, we will be collecting our beloved old Volvo (and by old I mean 1971, so yes, old) and putting her on sale and also checking on the state of repair of the Toad van – our fucking ludicrous Toad Mobile.  I don’t know if I’m just excited or if I think we as big a pair of fucking idiots as you probably do.  I think we’ll call her Charlene.

This week I have spent a lot of time in the workshop here at Proper Job, listening to the radio.  A lot of it has centred around the state of the banks in the UK and particluarly the spectacular chutzpah of Fred Goodwin, who had the gall to run one of the world’s largest banks into the ground, and then resign on a £650k per year pension.  It’s a bit like being caught shagging someone’s wife and asking for a cup of tea and a biscuit before they throw you out.  The problem really is that for all the discussion about all this bollocks, the whole debate really boils down to this:

Why did it happen?  Because the decisions are made by blinkered, avaricious cunts with no regard for anything other than enriching themselves in a spectacular fashion.  Why aren’t you doing anything about it?  Because they still have all the fucking money – what’s left of it anyway – so there’s really fuck all we can do because the whores still have us by the short and curlies.  End. Of.  Story.

So, on that perky little note, this is the weekly opportunity for random participation and nonsense.  Please don’t feel you have to be a comedy genius, or contribute all that much, but do take this opportunity to de-lurk and say hello, particularly if it’s for the first time.

1. Favourite excuse for the credit crunch made by some snivelling financial type.
2. Worst ‘poor meal’ you ever had.
3. Something you’re going to spend money on this weekend which you really shouldn’t.
4. Canny saving trick you recently discovered, making you all pleased with yourself.
5. Cheapest thing you’ve ever bought which should be really expensive.

Dan Bern & the IJBC – Crow (IJBC stands for International Jewish Banking Conspiracy, so it is slightly fitting!)

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Hawksley Workman – Bankrobber

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REM – What if We Give it Away

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Richmond Fontaine  – $87 and a Guilty Consience That Gets Worse the Longer I Go

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The Welcome Wagon – Sold! To the Nice Rich Man

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