Bugger me, what fun! How about a podcast! By Me! With mandatory exclamation marks! Lots of them!!

Sorry about this chaps, but in truly characteristic all-or-nothing fashion, instead of getting my miserable arse in gear to record a meagre intro for the splendid Contrast Podcast I have, on my first outing, gone right out and recorded an entire podcast of my own. Bloody typical. I tell you what, if I don’t finally get off my lazy, disorganised and generally fucking useless arse come the next Contrast Podcast time then I deserve to be tarred and feathered, so please hold me to that, I bloody deserve it.

And you’ve got to tell me what you think too, because believe me this is far more personal than blogging – shit, my own actual voice! The shield of a computer screen and four thousand miles’ distance is some insulation believe me, whereas all you lot listening to me talk idiotically to myself in the middle of my own living room, well quite frankly it scares the shit out of me. So let me know – good? bad? indifferent? more? never again? It’s in your hands, people, so make your voices heard.

Fancy a listen? Well click like fiends, Toadlets, like fiends!

Toadcast #1, June 2007

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Here’s the tracklisting:

1. The New Pornographers – Mass Romantic (01.22)
2. Bishop Allen – Like Castanets (07.10)
3. Jet – Lazy Gun (10.21)
4. The Sequins – Patients (17.40)
5. Grandaddy – Broken Household Appliance National Forest (25.53)
6. The Wedding Present – Corduroy (30.25)
7. The Sequins – Nobody Dreams About Me (35.22)
8. The Shaky Hands – Whales Sing (38.30)
9. The Scottish Enlightenment – Eyes (44.02)
10. Sons & Daughters – Johnny Cash (48.55)

I have a few miserable pals on the blogosphere at the moment.  Mind you, given the diaristic (yes, I know that’s not a word – like a diary…  mmm, diuretic? – no, that’s worse…

Seesh, didn’t even close the brackets.

Where was I?  Ah, yes, given the diuretic nature of the blogosphere I suppose this shouldn’t be a surprise, but it is always a shame when people you like aren’t altogether happy.  I have no useful advice to offer really, except to suggest doing your best to forget it and enjoy a nice cold beer or a good record or a snuggle on the couch or some truly exceptionally filthy internet pornography and do your best to take your happiness in small doses.

I am generally a happy individual myself, and it’s the weekend, and the sun is threatening to shine, so let’s have some happy music.  Not crazy, mental over the top stuff because things don’t have to be the best thing ever in the universe to just be good and cheerful and a little bit uplifting.  Cheerful days – the time is Beer minus 1.5 and counting…

Breasts
Echobelly – Great Things I haven’t heard this one in ages – splendid!
Lambchop – Your Fucking Sunny Day
The Shaky Hands – Whales Sing If this bass-line doesn’t cheer you up you are clinically deceased.
The Gourds – Gin & Juice Sheer, unadulterated genius.
(The Real) Tuesday Weld – Stand by Your Man

I like to think that I’m good with words, but that’s not quite true. To be more accurate, I know lots of words, but I really don’t always know what to do with them.

Consequently, I find myself reviewing the debut release by Portland, Oregon’s latest progeny The Shaky Hands, and I know exactly the words that come to mind, but I don’t know exactly why or what they mean. Basically this album has complete integrity – it’s complete, correct and all its internal rules are entirely self-consistent. I don’t know exactly what this is supposed to mean, but it perfectly describes this record.

The Shaky Hands play a kind of laid back, West coast hippy folk pop that has absolutely perfect pace. The speed and rhythm of this album are absolutely spot on, striking that perfect balance between the laid back hippy dreamer and the confident indie popster. It probably won’t grab you immediately, this record, but just listen to it a wee bit and you’ll find that it is one of the most beautifully executed, perfectly judged pieces of pop perfection we’re likely to hear this year.

After buying The Singleman Affair’s phenomenal album Let’s Kill the Summer, if you have any money left at all, instead of being a pussy and feeding your family, buy this. Really do. The only more satisfying way to spend your hard earned cash would be on a pair of seventeen year old Slovakian twins who could suck the Titanic back up from the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, should they choose to try. And even then, this would sound way, way better. It’ll probably last a bit longer too.

The Shaky Hands – Whales Sing The bass-line to this song is as good as you’ll hear all year. So simple, so perfect.
The Shaky Hands – Summer’s Life

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