Well we’ve heard back from the lifeboat lady, and apparently our efforts (here, and the aftermath here) have managed to raise pretty much double the amount of previous years.  This, frankly, is fucking brilliant news so massive thanks to everyone who came along – Dave & Michael from The Stormy Seas, Neil from Meursault, Dylan from Blueback Hotrod, a random hot chick from Mrs. Toad’s work, Morgan from, er, Glasgow and Ed from 17 Seconds (& 17 Seconds Records).  Brilliant stuff – same again next year?

In other slightly random news, Mrs. Toad is getting all excited about the possibility of us doing house gigs.  We have most of a PA system which we use for the Toad Sessions, the living room is pretty big, and we have a massive fridge for beer.  The nice thing about this is that in the absence of paying a sound guy and room hire, we could easily ask for a fiver donation, all straight to the band, and it could actually turn out way more lucrative for a musician.  It would also be a really nice atmosphere, because our living room would look full with twenty people in it, never mind fifty, so if we were taking a chance on someone interesting but not at all famous, that might be a good way to do it.

We’d have to think of someone good to start with, I think, and be careful to keep it kind of low key at the beginning.  I was a little skeptical at first, I have to confess, but I have yet to speak to anyone who thinks it’s a bad idea, so we are likely to go ahead with it sooner rather than later.

And with that, maybe it’s time to start this Friday’s Fives.  This is everyone’s opportunity to get beyond the same old smart-arsed muppets in the comments section, de-lurk, and have their say, so lets go for it, people.  There’s no need to worry about not being the funniest or the cleverest (although, lets face, the bar is set pretty fucking low if you’re the competitive sort), but you will be mocked for your opinions.  Kindly, of course, but mocked you will be, and once you’ve written your five you can mock back.

So get going, you fruitcakes, it’s fucking Friday and I am going to some sort of crazy executive dinner part tonight with Mrs. Toad’s work.  She wants me to get my beard trimmed (which I won’t do), get my hair cut (which I might do) and actually iron a shirt (which, alright okay, I will do).  So while you’re out getting pickled out of your tiny little minds, spare a thought for me surrounded by braying yahoos from the financial services sector.  I’ll try not to get too pished and tell everyone to fuck off.  Try.  I’m making no promises.

1. Science Fiction – a good thing or a bad thing?
2. Your most inappropriate behaviour at a formal event.
3. Ever spent an evening as a trophy wife/husband/boyfriend/etc..?
4. Most painful first date activity.
5. Least favourite TV presenter.

Jeffrey Lewis & Laura Marling – Brain Damage (An Eminem cover, apparently – for more info and some ace Jeffrey Lewis movies see here.)

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Richard & Linda Thompson – Withered and Died (Thanks to Campfires & Battlefields)

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The Thermals – When We Were Alive

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The Mummers vs Passion Pit – Sleepyhead (Isn’t this one of those remix/mashup things?  Have I sunk this low?)

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The Sailplanes – The Bridge (New album coming soon, and they sound promising.)

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Let’s get the crap out of the way first, shall we. At its worst, this album is merely bland – a pastiche of work that Bjork did almost ten years ago. That, just occasionally, is the territory which The Mummers flirt with on Tell to Tale.

That sounds horrible, but if you don’t get into this album then that is what you will probably hear, I would have thought. Personally, though, I think it’s just a bit brilliant. Nicole Atkins has already test-driven the drama queen off broadway on drugs in a dive bar aesthetic this year, with great success. This is a little more Alice in Wonderland than that, but the preposterous, romantic grandeur is similar.

The sound is quite odd actually. It really reminds me of that mid-nineties period I alluded to earlier. It’s not just Bjork, there are elements of Saint Etienne and Dubstar to be heard – a lot of that high, fragile female vocal that was very popular at that point. When The Mummers calm it all down and explore the mistier side of their repertoire they even dance briefly into The Real Tuesday Weld territory, albeit without the dusty vinyl crackles Mr. Coates so loves.

I wouldn’t leap up and down and declare that every last moment on this album is a giddy success, but there are some absolute gems to be found here. When it really clicks it is exuberantly fun to listen to, and that happens a lot. There are a couple where they don’t quite unshackle the magic and the song never quite gets going, but for the most part this is great stuff.

The Mummers – Wonderland
The Mummers – Nightbus

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