Song, by Toad

Posts tagged orange juice

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Friday is Easily Impressed

[EDIT: THIS JUST IN! This is a Muppet News Flash!

Readers of Toad have very kindly been offered 2-for1 tickets for tonight’s FOUND gig at Summerhall. So if you want to go along tonight just drop me an email with FOUND in the subject line and I’ll leave your names on the door. For those of you who missed the Independent Record Fair in Summerhall (just on the Eastern corner of The Meadows) last weekend, it is a bloody amazing place, and a fine spot for a gig.]

I love stuff like the above video.  It just seems a little more inventive than writing a verse-bridge-chorus three-minute pop song.  Although, given how much straightforward pop music (albeit smothered in reverb, compression and distortion) I’ve been listening to this year you’d never have guessed.

Anyhow, for those of you getting a bit bored of Festival stuff, remember we have our four Toad at the Circus gigs starting next week, with the first one being the Pineapple Chunks album launch, supported by Dolfinz (from Stonehaven) and Mutch & Thomas (from The Leg).  The info for all four gigs is on this page here, so please do come down, it would be splendid to see you.

I’ve left it a little bit late to put the Fives up today, but I expect those of you in offices (or just lounging about in your pants doing fuck all) won’t mind too much.  There’s always time to be killed on Friday afternoon.  I have Anthony from God Don’t Like It visiting me at the moment, and we’ll be heading out to the Forest Cafe this evening to see The Japanese War Effort and The Occasional Flickers, and then probably heading off to Lach’s Antihoot immediately afterwards to see Neil and (I think) Lorcan from Meursault playing, along with everyone else.

The Antihoot has been brilliant so far, actually.  I think a lot of that is due to the friendly atmosphere amongst the audience, and also to the length of the time slots.  Eight minutes is just long enough to really enjoy someone good, and just short enough to not worry too much if someone’s shit.  If you want to play just drop Lach a line at info@antifolk.net with a link to some music (or whatever it is you do), and he’ll sort you out.

In the meantime, here’s something to waste what little remains of the obligation to pretend to be busy for the rest of the afternoon.

1. How recently did you phone home?
2. Who is your favourite muppet?
3. Most underrated TV show.
4. Fashion item you saw becoming fashionable and decided not to touch with a bargepole.
5. A word which sounds odd to you when you say it.

This week’s five songs are froma compilation of indie music (as in actual, mid-eighties indie era music, not just generic guitar pop) which was on the cover of Mojo a year or two ago.

Felt – Penelope Tree

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Loft – Up the Hill and Down the Slope

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Orange Juice – Simply Thrilled Honey

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McCarthy – Keep an Open Mind or Else

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Wah! Heat – 7 Minutes to Midnight

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Friday is Like a Rabbit in Headlights

Bloody hell.  Holidays are awesome things, but getting back from them to the terrifying number of neglected tasks which pile up in your absence is quite intimidating.

So far the best I have managed has been to stare in a startled way at my desk and adopt a facial expression which looks dangerously like Ctrl-Alt-Delete is called for.  I think I might wait for lunch and just go an lie in the sun in Inverleith Park instead, and accept the meltdown rather than fight it.

Anyhow, that clip at the top is from the BBC’s SXSW documentary, due to go out on BBC2 Scotland on Tuesday 5th July at 9pm. I mention this for several reasons.  Firstly, I was there this year, and seeing that all documented from someone else’s perspective is both very cool and a little strange.  Secondly, there is a significant amount in the programme about bands I (and presumably you too) happen to love, such as Withered Hand and Kid Canaveral.  This is a good thing.

And thirdly, really quite surprisingly, there is quite a lot of me in it as well, which is also both odd and splendid at the same time.  The Beeb have used a lot of the footage they shot of Vic, Peej, Stuart and myself recording our SXSW hangover podcast, and it may only be the last ten minutes or so, but given I am not a band that is pretty incredible really.

Anyhow, while I am scrabbling to get the post sorted out, in order to prevent outraged shoppers battering down our door due to the lateness of their orders, here are five stupid questions to which it would be nice to receive five stupid answers, and god knows whatever other bollocks is on your mind at the moment.

And I promise that after the disruption of the last couple of weeks, normal service, whatever that is, will be resumed henceforth. Phew!

1. What chore are you currently the furthest behind with?
2. Do you like tennis (in general) or Wimbledon (in particular).
3. Are you fond of strawberries?
4. Have you watched pals of yours on the telly before?
5. Anyone going to any gigs on the weekend?  I seem to have completely lost track of what the fuck is going on at the moment!

The Radiators – Television Screen

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Doc & Merle Watson – Bonaparte’s Retreat

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Marcy Playground – Sunday Mail

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George Pringle – Carte Postale

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Orange Juice – Holiday Hymn (Peel Session)

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Friday is Playing Catch-up

Fuck fuck fuck!  I’m out of commission for two days because of Wide Days and suddenly I find myself up to my arse in jobs I need to catch up with.

Wide Days was very interesting indeed.  I thought it might be a little different, and so it proved.  Being on one of the panels this time means people don’t look at you quite as much as if you were trying to sell them something unpleasant, which can happen at these things.

I enjoyed taking part actually, although I fear I might have been a little more confrontational with Stuart from Chemikal Underground than I entirely intended to be.  Ah well, pissing off the head of one of my favourite record labels… all in a day’s work when you have a bit too big a mouth for your own good.  He’s an easy-going guy though, so I don’t think I really annoyed him.  Hopefully!

The big worry I have about these things, of course, is whether or not they are actually helpful for people.  Entertaining is one thing – and I think our panel was argumentative enough that it was probably quite entertaining, but I always worry about if it is actually helpful.

Anyhow, it’s Friday afternoon, so it’s time to put my feet up and get lazy.  The sun is out and I am sorely, sorely tempted to wander out to the back garden with a cup of tea and have a nap in the sunshine.  I won’t though, I will stay here and piss about on the internet with you guys.  Aww shucks!

1. What are you listening to at this particular moment.
2. Hit random, skip forwards, what comes on?  No fibs.
3. Whisky.  Yes or no?
4. What is your shellfish policy?
5. Name a movie you strongly associate with your childhood but haven’t watched for years.

This week’s five songs are from an indie (as in the original eighties movement when the term came into general prominence, not just generic guitar pop) compilation by Mojo, I think.

Felt – Penelope Tree

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Loft – Up the Hill and Down the Slope

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Orange Juice – Simply Thrilled Honey

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McCarthy – Keep an Open Mind or Else

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Wah! Heat – 7 Minutes to Midnight

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Toadcast #105 – The Myopiacast

This podcast is slightly kinda somewhat about about the myopia of the London media, in particular as to how it pertains to Scotland and Scottish music, and slightly about the Glasgow media.  There are a number of different triggers for this, starting with this article in the Scotsman’s Under the Radar blog last year about the rejection by the editor of a London glossy of an article on four up-and-coming Scottish bands, made even more offensive by the fact that said editor had requested the damn article in the first place.

Of course, anyone who reads the London glossies knows they don’t half cover an awful lot of shite themselves, so they really are in no position to pass judgment, but these things are about personal taste at the end of the day and you really can’t force anyone to like stuff.

Then of course there was a wee bit of chatter about the Glasgow focus of the media in Scotland – like an endless set of Russian dolls, this kind of thing really can go on forever – particularly focussed on the remarkable Glasgow-centrism of The List’s Hot 100 list and then some stupid woman on BBC radio sneering at the Edinburgh music scene despite knowing no more of Glasgow than Mogwai or Franz Ferdinand.

So yes, there’s a bit of that going on as well, but for the most part it’s surprisingly non-confrontational given the level of annoyance I felt with both the BBC lady and the List list at the time.

Toadcast #105 – The Myopiacast

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01. James Yorkston – A Man of My Skills (04.26)
02. Frightened Rabbit – The Greys (10.22)
03. Orange Juice – Blue Boy (16.02)
04. The Pogues – Rake at the Gates of Hell (18.53)
05. Fang Island – Life Coach (27.56)
06. Her Name is Calla – Long Grass (30.51)
07. Fire Engines – Get Up and Use Me (37.59)
08. Last Battle – Ward 119 (47.44)
09. Sebastian Dangerfield – Morris (49.53)
10. Sigur Ros – Gong (58.05)

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Five Sly Naps in the Disabled Loo

sneakysThat there finely crafted piece of graphic art is the flyer for the Toad Night happening on Sunday at Sneaky’s.  Beauticious, isn’t it – took me almost fifteen minutes.  It should be a fun night though, particularly if you get lubricated at the Shipping Forecast Garden Party at the Pear Tree beforehand.

I was a guest DJ at Born to Be Wide last night, which was rather fun.  My assignment was to play about half an hour of unsigned Edinburgh bands, so it was a fine opportunity to make a club crowd listen to tunes by the likes of The Leg, Enfant Bastard, the Pineapple Chunks and eagleowl.  I can’t imagine there are many clubs where that sort of stuff is on the playlist, so that made me smile a little on the inside – particularly when I was approached by someone during eagleowl, demanding to know who was playing this wonderful song.  Score one for the wol.

The other comedy about last night was the lineup of guest DJs.  Born to Be Wide is a good night anyway, but last night Derek and Olaf truly excelled, getting porn director Ben Dover, actor and former Fire Engines singer Tam Dean Burn, and Orange Juice/Josef K/Low Miffs guitar hero Malcolm Ross to do sets at various points during the evening.  So yes: me, Ben Dover, Tam Dean Burn and Malcolm Ross.  I might as well retire now.

To make matters even more surreal, Malcolm did his Postcard Records set after my Unsigned Edinburgh one, and didn’t know how to use the DJ stuff, so I had to show him.  Talk about the blind leading the bloody blind – me with my almighty two sets of DJ experience having to show someone else how to use the equipment.  In future, of course, I am going to simply refer to this incident as ‘that time I taught Malcolm Ross to DJ’.  If any of you let slip the fact that this is a gross exaggeration to the point of pure fabrication, then I’ll kill you.

“What did you do last night Toad?”
“Oh the usual… played some tunes, had a couple of gins, taught Malcolm Ross how to DJ.  You get up to much?”

Not sure where I was going with that, actually.  Apart from trying explain the fact that it’s Friday and once again I have a massive hangover.  If only the day was 30 hours long I could sleep this shit off quite happily – curse you, Earth, and your excessively hasty axial rotation!  The only real consolation is that Mrs. Toad went on one of those corporate circle jerk team building buzzword bingo tossathons last night, staggered in so pished she didn’t even turn out the light in the bedroom and is now probably feeling far worse than I am.

Although knowing her, she’s probably curled up on the floor of the disabled loo having a crafty nap, the cheeky little minx.

1. Best ritual to get you to sleep.
2. Best tip for getting ready for work and out of the house fast with a stinking hangover.
3. Best hangover treat.
4. Best comfort food your mum made.
5. Best drunken debacle which happened to someone else and was hence very amusing instead of mortifying.

Orange Juice – Love Sick

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Josef K – Sorry For Laughing (Vinyl Version)

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Fire Engines – Get Up and Use Me

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The Shop Assistants – It’s Up to You

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Parenthetical Girls – A Song For Ellie Greenwich (Who is dead.  Ruth from the Bowery and I recorded a podcast yesterday, which will go up next Saturday, which goes into this in much more detail, but for now just look her up and marvel at quite how many truly legendary songs the woman wrote.  I genuinely had no idea.)

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Have Some Orange Juice For a Good Cause

Orange Juice

JC who writes the Vinyl Villain is not so much a blog-pal – someone who writes a blog that covers similar territory to mine – as an actual pal.  A truer gent and a more generous soul you will never meet, which makes his latest plan no less than completely characteristic.

There’s been a fair bit of talk about Orange Juice recently, the legendary Scottish indie pioneers led by the peerless Edwyn Collins.  Well, for a neophyte like myself tracking down their music is bloody difficult as, amazingly enough for such an iconic band, it’s nearly all out of print. So, after Ed posted their first album in its entirety a couple of weeks ago (since taken down for reasons that will become obvious) JC, who takes the term avid collector to an extreme, has dreamed up the following offer:

He will make you a customised Orange Juice compilation CD from his extensive (in fact, one very expensive collectors’ single away from being exhaustive) archive of Orange Juice material in return for six of your English (well, Scottish preferably, I assume) pounds.  One to cover the CD and postage, and five to be donated to Quarrier’s, who I believe care for JC’s godson Kevin.

Not only is this in a good cause, and not only should you be supportive of someone donating his time and energy to things like this, but it will also give you a chance to get a pretty comprehensive insight into one of the groups who gave rise to the indie movement, before it just meant music with guitars that gets played on Radio 2.  The indie spirit is alive and well nowadays though, despite its demise as a ‘sound’.  Every band out there making up their own CD-Rs and selling them through their MySpace pages should have a look at the original indie movement because that, my friends, is where it all began.

A couple of bands covering Orange Juice songs:
The Wedding Present – Felicity (Live 1987 – Munich Alabama Halle)
The Divine Comedy – Untitled Melody Back from before they were shit.

And some more from the original indie era.
The Desperate Bicycles – The Medium Was Tedium
The Field Mice – Emma’s House
The Loft – Up The Hill And Down The Slope

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The, erm, Bum Clocks

Tam Dean Burn

Remember Mrs. Toad’s review of the brilliant Low Miffs a little while back? Well she mentioned that the gig was opened by a rather mental act called The Bum Clocks. Who, you will almost certainly be asking yourselves, the fuck are The Bum-Clocks?

Edinburgh indie royalty is the answer: they are Tam Dean Burn on vocals, Malcolm Ross on guitar and Russell Burn on drums. If you don’t know who they are then don’t worry – a couple of weeks ago I wouldn’t have either.

Back in the early eighties, at the very birth of indie, Edinburgh enjoyed possibly the pinnacle of its fame as a hotbed of brilliant music. Of the groups regarded as the founding fathers of the indie movement, Fire Engines, Josef K and to a lesser extent Orange Juice were all either largely from Edinburgh or at least had strong Edinburgh connections. With the help of my internet pals I am only just starting to come to terms with this particular scene, but even I know that a group comprising the guitarist from Orange Juice and Josef K, the drummer from The Fire Engines and the actor who fronted The Fire Engines in their earlier incarnation as the Dirty Reds is something a little bit special.

A little bit mental too. For the Bum Clocks are self-described as the collision of Rabbie Burns and Iggy Pop. Now, like Mrs. Toad, I had always found Burns immensely tedious but I suppose that is primarily because the Tartan Shortbread crowd got their hands on his output years ago and so all you hear from the guy is his most saccharine, dismal rubbish. Seeing his words spat out with such venom was like witnessing a rebirth of poetry as an art-form. I almost feel a podcast coming on…

Anyway, see what you make of this lot. And listen to the guitar. Mr. Ross hasn’t lost it!

The Bum Clocks – Nine Inch Will Please a Lady
The Bum Clocks – Green Grow the Rashes (Someone else has a brilliant version of this poem to their name – is it Eddi Reader perhaps? I don’t quite remember but an ex-girlfriend put in on a compilation tape for me many years ago and it was gorgeous.)

With particular thanks to JC from the ever-brilliant Vinyl Villain for the mp3s. He sent me over a miniature avalanche after my last post pleading ignorance about these bands. The man’s a gent.

Josef K – It’s Kinda Funny (I see what they mean, JC, those 80s ‘pyoo pyoo’ sounds aren’t doing anyone any favours – see comments.)
Fire Engines – Candyskin (Peel Session Version
Orange Juice – Felicity

And just in case you were wondering: “BUM-CLOCK, A humming beetle, that flies in the summer evenings. (from Jamieson’s Scottish Dictionary -Edinburgh 1867)”

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