Song, by Toad

Posts tagged wedding present

Matthew Young

Why I Love Vinyl – Reason #372

vinyl I am not one of those people who goes on and on about the quality of vinyl and the sound it makes and so on and so on, because I am just not an audiophile, really.  I’m not saying that I can’t hear the difference, just that I have no real objection to listening to badly recorded songs on 92Kbps mp3s or on a shitty old tape recorder or anything like that.  It just doesn’t really colour my enjoyment of a song, particularly, is all I’m saying.

This came up on the Fresh Air Radio show yesterday though, and I thought I might write a post about it: one of the things for which I love vinyl, more than the sound, is the way it changes the actual process of listening to music.  I have no CDs anymore, just digital and vinyl.  Because of the Biblical quantities of new music I listen to and the fact that I am jealous little hoarder, I have gigabytes worth of music on my main hard drive (and yes, before you ask, it is scrupulously backed up).  I don’t know the exact number, but I think you could start my digital music collection playing, walk away from the stereo for two months, and it still wouldn’t have to repeat a single song.

That kind of thing, along with Spotify and naughty downloading really does change how I listen to music.  I can find myself deciding I like something, shunting it into my music library, and then not listening to it again for years because I am so caught up with my inbox.  That a bit sad, really, and it is also where vinyl comes in.

Collecting vinyl is an expensive and painstaking process.  Between online purchases from small indie labels across the world (well, the US, Canada and here, let’s be honest), browsing through second-hand shops, the odd new thing purchased in actual record shops (remember them?) and occasionally going mental on eBay whilst plastered, it takes time and effort to accumulate vinyl.  It’s also bulky and expensive, so you just can’t buy that much of it.  I know some people might challenge that, but they are mental people, like Ed from 17 Seconds, who has a whole room of the stuff.  Compared to digital though, it’s just impossible to own that much music on record simply for practical reasons.  This restriction means that your collection tends to stay manageable, and also tends to cluster around the things you really, really love, with a few random second hand purchases thrown in to mix things up.

Secondly, of course, playing the stuff is a very high-maintenance undertaking.  Records need to be sifted, selected, piled up and, most importantly, turned over at least once every forty-five minutes or so.  This makes the act of listening to vinyl so much more deliberate and selective than sticking your stereo on random and letting it play what amounts to a relatively closely selected personal radio station from your collection of digital files.  You have to actively choose what you play, and you tend to listen to it more because you can’t just walk away and let it look after itself.

For myself I find it tends to slow me right down, and take the haste out of listening to music.  A little like the Slow Food Movement, by its very slowness it’s not that it forces me to concentrate exactly, more that it prevents me really concentrating on anything else all that much, so I tend to just absorb the music more.  It stops me treating listening to music like a job, stops me thinking about too many other things, forces me to concentrate on a much narrower selection of music and in doing so allows me to form a better relationship with it.

So never mind the audiophile sound issues, what I think I like most about vinyl is its very inconvenience.  It is a demanding and awkward format, by today’s standards, and this forces you to listen to music in a certain way, a more deliberate and receptive way, and that is what I love the most about the stuff.

The Magnetic Fields – Time Enough For Rocking When We’re Old

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The Wedding Present – Spangle

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Matthew Young

Toadcast #72 – The Slowcast

Toadcast

This is called the Slowcast because there are so many songs and, more commonly, whole albums out there which I took ages and ages to get into, and for no really obvious reason.

There are several reasons, I guess: how familiar a sound is, your emotional state at the time, what your mates are listening to, how popular something is and stuff like that.  I know I’ve admitted plenty of times in the past that I have a habit of refusing to like things if they get too popular.  That sounds ludicrous, but it’s not exactly a conscious decision, more an instinctive recoiling.  I never have liked much popular stuff, although I do certainly go through phases.  Maybe that’s one of the reasons that, with the label, I am not looking to sign or work with the modern equivalent of a Top 40 band – I have never much liked Top 40 music.

Anyway, that’s not really the point of the podcast.  This is dedicated to those albums which for some reason you have to hear about a million times before you eventually, out of nowhere, realise that you love them.

Toadcast #72 – The Slowcast

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01. Billy Bragg – Honey I’m a Big Boy Now (04.36)
02. Tom Waits – Goin’ Out West (08.37)
03. Radiohead – My Iron Lung (14.14)
04. The Mutton Birds – Envy of Angels (23.42)
05. Mancino – Definition of an Accident (32.26)
06. The Mabuses – I’m the Greatest (36.09)
07. Interpol – Obstacle #1 (43.31)
08. My Latest Novel – Wolves (49.30)
09. The Wedding Present – 2, 3, Go! (55.29)
10. Yo La Tengo – Big Day Coming (59.56)

Matthew Young

Five Friday Fatwas

Daffs!

Christ, I get back from a long (and, frankly, really rather interesting) meeting and find the website suffering somewhat from the last post being just a little serious. Stop it, people, there will be no meaningful discussions on Friday, particularly not after lunch, it’s just not right.

On the radio show last night I played a song by a band called National Beekeepers Society, and it occurred to me afterwards that they have a sound very reminiscent of a lot of 90s indie rock.  In fact, there’s been a fair amount of that kind of stuff surfacing recently, even down to the likes of the excellent Sholi who I reviewed a day or so ago on this very site.  It’s about time for the 90s revival, I suppose, given that we’re about a decade away from them now, and I suppose these are the first green shoots of that very re-evaluation.  I can’t personally imagine what the 90s revival will be like really, having been a bit too involved with the real thing to guess what it will look like when viewed through uber-ironic teenage eyes.

On the subject of green shoots, I am gazing out the window into the sunshine, desperately hoping that tomorrow is at least vaguely like today.  Our garden has been neglected pretty much entirely since October, and there is something absolutely fucking amazingly wonderful about sitting out in the garden with a cup of tea.  Or a fucking great big gin and tonic.  It actually feels like spring is here – this has been a very pleasant week indeed, long may it continue.

1. Thing you are most looking forward to in the 90s revival.
2. Thing you are least looking forward to in the 90s revival.
3. Most embarrassing thing you allowed yourself to revive during the 80s revival.
4. Has Spring hit where you live yet?
5. Do you grow things or have plants or a garden or something? (What a well-constructed sentence that is.)

National Beekeepers Society – Lazy

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The Ramones – The Garden of Serenity

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The Lemonheads – Confetti

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The Wedding Present – Gazebo

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Echobelly – Natural Animal

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Matthew Young

Feral Friday Favourites (& Meursault Gigs)

Fuck You, Cupid

First things first: business, I’m afraid.  We are trying to organise a UK tour for Meursault.  Given I have never organised a tour before, I thought I might enlist the help of my Toady friends, because you know about the place where you live far better than I do.

Basically, if there is a venue or a promoter in your neck of the woods who you think I should get in touch with, please let me know.  We’re just looking for someone who puts on vaguely Toad-friendly lineups in half-decent places and is likely to draw a reasonable crowd.  Not massive, of course, but they don’t want to be playing in front of five neds in the local Slug & Lettuce if we can avoid it.  The venues don’t have to be massive – 50 would do the trick, as long as it is likely to be quite busy.  Basically, you know the kind of gigs myself and my Edinburgh pals go to around here, so if you think you can hook us up with one of those please let me know – no matter if it’s Dundee, Dubai or Droylsden.  Well actually, not Dubai, because we can’t afford the air fare.  So there we go, if you want to see Meursault appear in a town near you in May, just point me in the right direction and I’ll do the rest.

Now, back to the more serious business of disrupting everyone’s Friday productivity, which I don’t believe for a second was up to much to begin with.  Are you all looking forward to our Valentine’s podcast tomorrow?  It won’t be pretty, I can promise you that.  We will get home, heat up some fine scran, pour a couple of whopping gins and burble our way through an hour of misanthropy and cynicism for your listening pleasure.  Fantastic.  Then, in the evening, I will leave Mrs. Toad by herself in the house and bugger off out to a gig by myself.  Romantic as fuck, aren’t we?

Now, I’ve seen your conversations on Facebook walls, there is no privacy in the 21st Century, so I know there are lurkers out there who can’t quite be arsed to join in.   Well fuck you, get off your lazy backsides and play along!  Haven’t you heard of the ancient Chinese proverb which states that ‘Those who do not play nicely with the other Toadlings will not get their hole on Valentine’s Day’.  So unless you want to be chasing the witless, pig-ugly, incoherently drunken dregs of humanity around the dancefloor at a quarter to three on Sunday morning peruse our five questions below, mull it over intelligently for a while, and then jump and say something inappropriate and make a tit of yourself.  Makes a change from me doing it all the time.

1. Most evil elbow you have given.
2. Most evil elbow you have had.
3. Best Valentines present.
4. Most failed attempt at an exotic sexual practice (chocolate smearing etc).
5. Best single sad sack Valentine’s day.

The Wedding Present – Don’t Take Me Home Until I’m Drunk

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Bob Dylan & Johnny Cash – Girl From the North Country

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Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds – The Girl at the Bottom of My Glass

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No Age – My Life’s Alright Without You

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And one for my girl, because she fucking loves this song, and always reaches for this one first when we start playing vinyl in the evening:
Stiff Little Fingers – Alternative Ulster

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Matthew Young

Live in Edinburgh This Week – 7th December 2008

Castle in Snow

Christ on a bike, after nothing at all last week, all of a sudden things are going bananas this week.  You could pretty much be at a good show every night if you wanted. I’m not going to write much in this intro because, frankly, there are so many gigs to bloody write about that the post would run on far too long otherwise.

Suffice to say that Friday’s party was, from my perspective, a massive success.  The open mic bit at the beginning was not an idea many people were overly convinced by, but I think pretty much everyone enjoyed it in the end.  I certainly did.

Tuesday 9th December 2008: Frightened Rabbit at the Liquid Room.
Despitely having rather disappointingly turned into Snow Patrol on their last album, there’s no doubt Frightened Rabbit, when they’re good, can be absolutely brilliant.  In terms of one last big gig to attend before the Hogmanay chaos, this archetypal Scottish indie would be an excellent choice.
Frightened Rabbit – Music Now

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Tuesday 9th December 2008: Louis Barrabas at the Forest Cafe.
Mr. Barrabas is described as ‘vaudeville folk’ in some quarters and listening to his MySpace page it’s difficult to fault that impression.  Frankly it sounds like two things to me: firstly, the kind of gig you’d be much more likely to see during the Festival; and secondly, like it really will be absolutely brilliantly entertaining.  I don’t think (although I’m not sure) that he will be bringing a band, so the theatrical musical chaos might be slightly lacking when compared to his MySpace recordings, but that doesn’t sound like it will matter much.  Excellent stuff.
Louis Barrabas – Love Struck Me Down

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Wednesday 10th December 2008: Benni Hemm Hemm at the Bowery.
I don’t know Benni’s music, but I have met him and he is a truly lovely guy.  Listening to his MySpace page, he seems less moody than the stereotypical Icelandic band, perhaps more in the style of a broader Scandinavian indie-pop, although with a lot less bubblegum.  That’s not very informative at all is it, sorry.
Benni Hemm Hemm – Veildiljod

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Thursday 11th December 2008: Jack Richold & Faith Nicholson at the Bowery.
Jack plays beautifully hushed folk songs, and Faith has a truly gorgeous voice.  Are they any good?  Well Jack wrote half the songs for the Nightjar album, and both sings and plays violin on The Moth Trap, on Song, by Toad Records.  So have a listen to this alternative version he and Faith recorded of Lady of the Calico from that album and decide for yourselves.  Bloody gorgeous.
Jack Richold – Lady of the Calico

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Thursday 11th December 2008: The Pains of Being Pure at Heart & The Foundling Wheel at Sneaky Pete’s.
Before supporting the Weddoes the following evening at the Liquid Room, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart bring their old-fashioned indie sound to Sneaky Pete’s, alongside Edinburgh racket-merchant The Foundling Wheel.  The Pains &c. might easily have been around in the mid-eighties when the Wedding Present formed, if you were to only judge by their sound, but I reckon The Foundling Wheel might shake things up a bit.
The Pains of Being Pure of Heart – Everything With You

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Friday 12th December 2008: The Wedding Present at the Liquid Room.
Okay, so the Gedgerator’s music may be slipping into the ordinary these past few releases, but the Wedding Present play a furiously brilliant live show, and they have more quality in their back catalogue is so far ahead of almost any other band out there that there’s no way you can lose at a gig like this.  Break out the guitars, boys.
The Wedding Present – Step Into Christmas

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Friday 12th December 2008: This is Music, with Jesus H. Foxx & Mitchell Museum at Sneaky Pete’s.
Jesus H. Foxx are spiky indie-poppers, well known on the Edinburgh circuit, but I’ve not really heard of Mitchell Museum before.  A quick listen on MySpace leaves the impression of mid-era Britpop, well executed and definitely interesting.  A few more songs, however, bring you into a much more eccentric realm.
Mitchell Museum – Exciting But Drunk

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Saturday 13th December 2008: Will Cookson, Rob St. John & Withered Hand at the Wee Red Bar.
Mr. Cookson has the best set of influences of any band in history – ever!  Just have a look.  The man must be a genius.  Apart from that, two of Edinburgh’s finest alt-folkers (sorry Rob) tread the Trampoline boards (trampolines don’t really have boards, do they) so although I can’t be there myself, this might be my most confidently recommended show of the week.
Withered Hand – I Am Nothing

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Matthew Young

Friday’s Fraudulent Fripperies

Bill Hicks

Well, it’s been an interesting week, hasn’t it. There have been some pretty major blow-ups in the blogosphere, posts taken down, people quitting, and some pretty angry tantrums. And fucking fair enough, too, quite frankly.

The weirdest thing about the whole situation is just how disjointed it all is. Ed received a takedown again yesterday for posting a Keane remix which was sent to him by a PR contact and hence, one has to assume, legitimate. That same PR person was baffled and not a little annoyed by the takedown notice, telling me this morning that:

“This is hugely frustrating. All the band/ management/ label wanted to do was to giveaway the CSS remix to a handful of blogs so that fans could get a wee thank you for making the album No.1.”

And as much as I don’t like Keane, this is a pretty decent thing to want to do – definitely how we would all want our favourite bands to be thinking.

What happened with Glasvegas has also baffled and annoyed Columbia UK, who knew nothing about it until the angry reactions were pointed out to them. It turns out it was nothing to do with them: Sony BMG in the States had been the ones wielding the flame thrower.

This pretty much sums up why I hate the major labels. Almost none of the individual people working for them will be stupid, but moving in large groups makes people stupid. None of us, as the saying goes, is as stupid as all of us. Or, from the rather splendid film Men in Black: “A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it.” While people on the internet have been innovating for them, the major labels have presumably not been standing still, and presumably they will have had some amazing ideas, but as soon as you have large meetings and committees and a legal department, A&R, management, publicity and global strategy all involved then innovation is killed stone dead.

Innovation seems to find it almost impossible to survive meetings. I know this because this is exactly what I see every day in Proper Job. Consequently the major labels, by virtue of their sheer size, are proving virtually impossible to move forwards in this respect.

Then the other side of it: the self-righteous bleating about illegal downloading when they themselves do not even have a coherent internal position on it. The right hand wants the remix out there and the left hand abhors mp3 blogs. Until such time as they know what they are thinking collectively and have an actual, consistent position, irrespective of its merits, they have no right threatening people and interfering with what the rest of the world is doing. Get your own fucking house in order before you start invading ours and destroying our work, you disgusting hypocrites.

There’s another side to this: the bands. Reading The Pop Cop I happened across this particular snippet, and Jason is pretty well connected within the music industry, so I think he is a credible source.

“it’s clear that many people don’t think Glasvegas themselves are immune from blame. In fact, we can tell you that the band have been made personally aware of the situation but have chosen not to comment on it.”

Which says one thing to me: fuck Glasvegas, fuck their careers and fuck their music. Let them rot. They were happy enough to enjoy all Ed’s hard work when they wanted him onside, but now things have changed and the minute this happens they snuggle up to the devil’s penis and lick it lovingly like the loyal lapdogs they are. Not an apology, not an explanation, not even a message of goodwill. They could easily have emailed Ed and simply expressed regret for what happened. They wouldn’t have had to condemn their label, which would have been brave, they could simply have grown a teeny tiny little bit of a fucking spine, or had some grace, or even simple manners. But they couldn’t muster even that, so fuck them. If that’s the particular flavour of jism they choose to swallow, may they fucking choke on it.

This week’s five were chosen by Dylan from Blueback Hotrod, official Toad photographer and all round bon vivant. They continue the theme of large corporations, which seems rather fitting, given the week we’ve just had. If you want to choose the five for next week, just pop me an email. As ever, please do take the chance to de-lurk and say hello. And after all the seriousness, wailing and gnashing of teeth, let’s take the chance to have some fun, eh.

1. Last major-label record bought (Not counting boutique subsiduaries – an act signed straight to one of the industry behemoths.)
2. Last item bought from IKEA
3. Average weekly spend in Tesco. (Or largest supermarket chain in your territory if not the UK)
4. Favourite brand of trainers (that’s sneakers, Americans).
5. Usual watering-hole – friendly local run in person by the landlord and host, or soul-less chain venue owned by an international leisure conglomerate?

What a fine and fitting selection of songs we have this week.

Bill Hicks – Satan Starmaker
Jeffrey Lewis – Don’t Let the Record Label Take You Out to Lunch
Hefner – The Greedy, Ugly People
David Cross – Women, Please Rinse Off Your Vagina And Anus!
The Wedding Present – Getting Nowhere Fast
And one more bonus, just because it’s so appropriate. The man was an unmitigated genius.
Bill Hicks – Fuck Only Artists

Matthew Young

Funf Freitag Frankenwursters

Germany

No, that doesn’t mean anything, don’t ask. I just think German is a language that excels when you start to insert random nonsense into it, especially if you start saying it all in a really loud, strident voice. “Jawohl! Der is some Schnitzeknodel in mein Uberschittengraben.” Just as an example.

On the subject of German, I remember two conversations with ladies about the German language which make me laugh, and I thought I might share them.

Firstly, when I was in my first year at Glasgow School of Art I remember seducing a girl at a party with my ability to speak German. Honestly. German. It was exactly in the style of Otto from A Fish Called Wanda – I could say more or less anything – niederhopfengruber, for example – and she’d act like I’d just said the sexiest thing in the world. Hilarious, slightly surreal, and so very, very first year of uni, too.

Secondly, the opposite. I was at a party with a girl up here a couple of years ago who actually is (ancestrally) German, and I mentioned the fact that, given I speak English, German and a little Dutch, I seem to speak only the ugly-sounding languages in Europe, apart from a little bit of piss-poor French. Anyhow, it appears I offended her sense of national pride because we embarked on this hour long ding-dong about whether or not German was a beautiful-sounding language, which culminated in her telling me that I just didn’t understand the German language like she did. Needless to say, I let forth I tirade of abuse at this, demanding how she had the right to tell me she understood a language better than I did when she didn’t even speak it – all in German of course – at which point things went a little quiet. Ah, I’m really popular at parties, me.

So, I think the Sarah Palin post may have tempted a great many lurkers out of the woodwork, but as per usual the Five on Friday post (as pinched from GUT) is the best and easiest way for new commenters to say hello. You don’t have to be witty or verbose, just play along with everyone else if you fancy.

1. Good example of a group singing in a language other than their native tongue.
2. Really crap example of the above.
3. Favourite foreign band who write in their own language – i.e. not English.
4. Favourite foreign word you just like the sound of.
5. Favourite country name.

Luna – Slow Song
The Wedding Present – Pourquoi Est Tu Devenue Si Raisonnable
Supergrass – She’s So Loose
Talking Heads – Radio Head
Wilco – She’s a Jar

Matthew Young

Yes, I Was the Twat Talking at the Back

The Kays Lavelle

I fucking hate it when people go to gigs and talk all the way through the bastard things. If you don’t want to pay any fucking attention to the songs, then piss off to another fucking pub. This is Edinburgh, there are thousands of places to go, so why don’t you just piss off somewhere else? Secondly, it’s just plain fucking rude.

So what could be more mortifying than to find myself at the Kays Lavelle gig at the Village in Leith last Friday, actually being the one talking too loud all the way through the fucking show. It wasn’t my fault, or at least to a certain extent it wasn’t. At least, there were mitigating circumstances anyway. Basically, because we ended up talking to this really nice couple outside, they talked to us inside, which is fine. Except that they talked really loud, were far too nice to tell to piss off, and very difficult to just quietly shuffle away from.

So basically, I am a coward and found it easier to be rude to Euan who was at least four metres away instead of the person a foot away chattering in my left ear, for reasons of basic proximity. Pathetic excuse isn’t it?

Anyway, I think the band had other more pressing problems, with some deranged old bag, a bottle of Buckie and a fistful of Es down, cavorted somewhat unpleasantly in front of them. You know when not-even-slightly-sexy-not-even-a-little-bit people try and do sexy dancing? It was like that. Actually it was worse – imagine someone who has clearly spent a lifetime jamming her wrinkled body with drugs and booze and nicotine, is probably pushing forty but looks nearly sixty, it at once saggy, emaciated, pale, malnourished, smothered in makeup, and with a crooked lear that would put the fear of god into the penis of even the most diseased gigolo? Now imagine trying to play heartfelt, emotional music with this gargoyle gyrating threateningly at you from a distance of mere feet away – I bet Euan never wished more sincerely for a grand piano in his life.

Anyway, the talky people left halfway through the Kays set, so I was able to enjoy the rest of it with minimal humiliation. Despite their fears for their stripped down lineup, just guitar and piano with Graham the guitarist playing a little drums from time to time, I thought they sounded excellent. There was something a little harsher about the guitar sound, for being so naked, and the general silence in the room served only to emphasise every droplet of piano. Once I’d managed to get my head out of my arse and actually listen to the bloody show, I really enjoyed it. I think Euan has a bigger, more anthemic sound in mind for the band, but I liked their spare set at the Village: there was lots of empty space to let the chords breathe.

It was a great night in general, actually. The Village is a really nice pub, and there are very, very few venues in Edinburgh that are nice places to be irrespective of the music. The importance of this is that indie kids – mostly blokes – will never be able to get girls along to Henry’s, because it’s a shit bar to hang out in if you aren’t really there for the music. And if we ever want to get big audiences for independent music in this city we have to reach out beyond the devoted fans because there just aren’t enough of us to go around. We need to get the people involved who are only kind of interested. So there. Rant over.

Check out Dylan’s excellent pictures here.

The Kays Lavelle – Swanfields
Hothouse Flowers – Shut Up and Listen
The Wedding Present – Always the Quiet One
The Coathangers – Shut Tha Fuck Up

Matthew Young

The Waitsing Room is a Muslim

Waits

Why is The Waitsing Room a Muslim? Because it’s all covered up of course! Get it, get it? Fuck me that was poor, apologies to absolutely everyone involved – shambolic rubbish. What prompted that garbaggio? Well this week me old mate DC (who has taken somewhat obscure exception to my post about Eaten by Monsters – I don’t understand it, but then he is Welsh) has done something I don’t think I would have the courage to do: tackle a whole show based on covers of Tom Waits songs.

The Waitsing Room – Cruel Variations

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Why wouldn’t I have the courage? Well to paraphrase Bill Hicks, I’m like a kid with a sore tooth with Tom Waits covers – it hurts, but I can’t quit pressing. Any cover of a Tom Waits song, I just have to hear. I’m fascinated, compulsive, I just can’t stop myself, despite the fact that almost without fail the only emotions they inspire in me are a mild frustration and immediate desire to go and listen to the original. I don’t know why, exactly, maybe he’s just too idiosyncratic, maybe my relationship with his music is just too close to pedestal-based worship, maybe I’m being a blinkered idiot, and maybe a little of all three.

What is it with cover versions anyway? So many are so incredibly poor, and yet we’re fascinated by them. Is it a traditional thing, where people used to cement communities by playing songs and trading stories and such-like, or is that just far too Oprah fucking Winfrey for everyone’s taste?

I’m downloading the show as I type this, and will be playing it all afternoon at work, to take my mind off the tedious grind of Proper Job and I am sure that by this time tomorrow the Tom Waits score on my last.fm count-o-meter will have jumped by another hundred or so. So toddle on over to The Waiting Room and download this week’s episode of his show, which airs live on Error FM on Wednesdays at 10pm, mostly, or nine sometimes.

A.A. Bondy – Hang Down Your Head (Live)
The Wedding Present – Red Shoes by the Drug Store

Matthew Young

Live in Edinburgh This Week – 29th July 2008

Midnight Sun

Well after last week, which was basically just a great big week of Meursault gigs, this week is a week of just one single gig.  Just one.  I know!  Needless to say the scurillous Bart has managed to weasel out a few things, but honestly, the man likes everything.  I was in the pub with him last week and I heard him utter the immortal words ‘I don’t like them.  I think they’re shit.’  I feel as if some sort of plaque should be erected to commemorate the occasion.  I’ve known the guy for a year or so and I have never heard these words, or even sentiments vaguely to that effect, ever pass his lips.

Thursday 3rd July 2008: Vandaveer, free gig at Cabaret Voltaire.
This one sounds sort of promising.  I don’t know much about Vandaveer apart from the fact that I have a couple of his songs floating about on my music drive which I rather like.  It’s folk-pop with a sort of drift from melancholy to sunny and back and should make for a fine evening.
Vandaveer – Marianne, You’ve Done it Now

In other news, I won’t be at the above gig because I will be attending Born to Be Wide at the Voodoo Rooms instead.  This month’s topic is Inside the Mind of a Music Journalist and, scandalously, I wasn’t invited to be on the panel – imagine that, and me all Web 2.0 and everything!  Anyway, I shall be going along and I think the chances of me being able to keep my mouth shut are very slim indeed, don’t you?  Then again it might be funny to let them all start talking about Teh Internetz for a bit and see where they end up, be0fore sticking my oar in at the last.  Not, of course, that I’m an expert anyway.  No-one really is, with respect to internet stuff, at the moment are they?  We’ve all got ideas and hunches and instincts, but I’d be sceptical of anyone who claimed to really know.

Anyway, yesterday I was at some sort of radio conference thing in Glasgow, which was quite fun.  The tricky bit was that I didn’t really know what I wanted out of the whole thing – I mean, do I really want a full-time job in radio? I doubt it really – but it was interesting to hear what people had to say.  They were generally quite impressed with what we’re doing here, I think, in terms of the combination of media and so on, so maybe we’re moving things in the right direction.

Anyhow, I drove home to Edinburgh at about eleven and it wasn’t really dark out, yet.  I forget, sometimes, just how far North Scotland is.  Really fucking far North actually.  I know we’re not far off the Summer Solstice, when all those mental Druid loonies descend on Stonehenge and knit homeopathic aubergines or whatever the fuck it is they do, but still: the middle of the night and nothing but an eerie twilight.  It was weird, but sort of fascinating too.  And I can’t think of a better song, or song title at least:

The Wedding Present – I’m From Further North Than You (Klee Remix)

The other song that jumped to mind was Yo La Tengo’s beautiful version of Sandy Denny’s By the Time it Gets Dark.  I love this – the normal domesticity of it; the sense of resolved conflict; the image of a day full of harrassment and annoyance that ends with you and your other half sitting down late in the evening with a cup of a tea or a glass of wine, after everything’s finally been dealt with, and before you ever start to talk about all the hassle of the day you know from the look in their eyes that everything really and truly is okay.

When I got home last night Mrs. Toad was in bed with her copy of the Economist and a cup of tea and the wee bedside light was on and things were just… nice, you know?

Yo La Tengo – By the Time it Gets Dark