Song, by Toad

Hooray for us – possibly the vilest and least romantic Valentine’s Day Podcast yet!  And before anyone whinges about that picture, go to fucking Wikipedia and complain, because that’s where we bloody got it from.  I know!  Scandalous!  Someone should complain.

So erm, yes.  I don’t think we left anyone unoffended this year.  I sincerely hope not because I don’t like to think of people out there nurturing an anticipated false outrage complex only to be let down.

We do not like romance, we do not like being told when to have fun by people who are simply hoping to exploit our disposable income, we do not like it being implied that being single is some sort of failure, we do not like people measuring their self-worth by how much their partner can be emotionally blackmailed into spending on them, we do not like having to live up to commercially defined standards to demonstrate that we love one another, we do not like having to skip the football just cos we’re supposed to behave one some particular day or other, we do not like fucking teddy bears or fucking chocolates, we do not like sitting in tumbleweed-infested restaurants whilst people glance nervously around them wondering if they’ve done it right, and we do not like having a list of things to live up to before our relationship is considered functional thank you very fucking much.

We do like lazy Saturdays in the garden, swearing at the fire for twenty minutes trying to get it to light with damp logs, meals with friends, new places, listening to vinyl so loud the floor shakes, a bit too much to drink with people that we really like, laughing/shouting at films, arguing about the side of the bed, swearing blind it’s not your turn with the chores when you know damn well it is, drinking coffee in the garden when it’s sunny, slagging off almost everyone, shouting at reactionaries on TV, emailing one another stupid stuff all day, insulting the cat, surprise cups of tea, buying shit on the internet when we’re drunk, only coping with the washing mountain when it threatens to start a SARs epidemic, watering the plants mere minutes before death and walking hand in hand through the park and peering at cool old dudes chuntering around at the allotments or sailing model boats in the park pond.

Oh, and getting pished and recording offensive podcasts for Valentine’s Day… enjoy!

Toadcast #108 – The Boabycast

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01. Cracker – Mr. Wrong (03.10)
02. Billy Bragg & Wilco – Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key (09.57)
03. The Smiths – Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me (17.11)
04. Eels – Love of the Loveless (20.16)
05. The Clash – Brand New Cadillac (29.40)
06. Bill Hicks – Pussywhipped Satan (31.41)
07. Evan Dando – Hard Drive (44.33)
08. The Coathangers – Nestle in My Boobies (48.11)
09. Virgin of the Birds – She’s in the Moon Again (59.10)
10. David Cross – Your Baby is FUCKING BORING! (65.59)

[Welcome back to Euan's monthly column on Song, by Toad.  After (sort of, not really) telling me off for weaseling out of doing a Favourite Albums of the Decade list, here he presents his own.]

You know, I was planning to reveal my top 10 albums of 2009 on my own site, then I decided, where better a place to post my top 10 than on Matthew’s page. Given the indifference that my top 50 of the decade seemed to spark amongst his readers, I thought it would be worth doing my top 10 on Matthew’s page for one simple reason. I don’t think they will be 10 records that either Matthew or you as readers would choose. Maybe I’ll introduce you to something new. Maybe not. But I really do see a point to these lists. Just like I see a point to music journalism in general. As I said, to dismiss an exercise like this with comments like “I just don’t care” would seem foolish given the blog you are using in the first place. I care about Matthew’s top 10/20. And that applies to most lists. I even read, in its entirety, the NME top 50 of the decade.

Top 10 lists for a particular year perhaps have less significance? I don’t know. I was just thinking the other day that what’s so appealing about a top 50 or 100 of the past decade are the personal reasons for the choices. Why was Yankee Hotel Foxtrot my number 1? Why will it not be Matthew’s? It’s fascinating. And something I really do enjoy at this time of year.

Anyways, you can check out my top 50 of the past decade over at www.thesteinbergprinciple.wordpress.com if you can be bothered. In the meantime, my top 10 records of 2009 would be, in no particular order:

Withered Hand – Good News
J Tillman – A Year In The Kingdom
Fieldhead – They Shook Hands For Hours
The Antlers – Hospice
My Latest Novel – Deaths and Entrances
Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson – Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson
The Builders and The Butchers – Salvation Is A Deep Dark Well
Sufjan Stevens – The BQE
Wilco – The Album
Peter Broderick – Music For Falling From Trees

It always takes me absolutely ages to get into Son Volt albums, so I suppose I’m due a bit of an apology for the poor publicity team at Toolshed who sent me this a couple of months ago and have been patiently waiting for a response ever since.

I wanted to take my time though, because that’s just my pace with Jay Farrar’s band.  The music itself is a little like that as well: rich, comforting and unhurried.  They sound like a band who are prepared to give you the time to come to them on your own terms, whenever you’re ready, which is a reassuring feeling when listening to a record.

Inevitably though, my first reactions to this were the usual: ‘Well, where are the tunes?  Where’s the immediacy?  It all sounds the damn same!’  I must have listened to this record through almost twenty times or so before I started to know the songs well enough to form relationships with them individually, instead of as a single homogenous lump.

In this case it was the gorgeously harrowing tale of the wreck of the Sultana which was the trigger.  For some reason this was the song which grabbed me first, and given the rather horrible subject matter and my predilection for sad music, it was quite an iron grip.  It was only then that I started to hear that same heartbreak in many of the other songs.  Cocaine and Ashes is similarly laced with luxuriant pathos – the kind that breaks your heart yet makes you feel warm and consoled inside at the same time.  It’s a canny trick, and few can pull it off anything like this well.

Apart from the sad songs, there is a shimmering rage to tracks like When the Wheels Don’t Move – not unhinged fury, more a growling glower of a song, which marks perhaps the furthest distance from classic alt-country to which this album ever wanders.

Farrar sings about his country, its history, its legacy and its people – it’s a remarkable blend of the big and the little stories in that respect.  Perhaps that’s where the title comes from, with the dust equally representing the grit of the music and the ashes of America’s confident self-regard.  As a title, it also conjures up the dustbowl nightmare of the Grapes of Wrath, for me, and fitting that he should do so so soon after Wilco, led by Farrar’s former bandmate Jeff Tweedy, released a version of Woody Guthrie’s Jolly Banker which takes aim at precisely that subject.

So I doubt Son Volt are going to shock anyone any time soon in a musical sense.  They seem entirely settled in their general dynamic, and I can live with that quite happily.  It means I know to take my time, not to rush anything, and give enough time I know their albums will seep into my consciousness eventually.  Just be prepared to relax and let it come to you at its own pace.

Son Volt – Dynamite

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Son Volt – Cocaine & Ashes

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Website | More mp3s | Buy direct from the band

Sorry, I know this is going up late, but I have been working on the promotional material for the Jesus H. Foxx EP release.  There’s a fair bit still to be done, but for the time being I am cautiously optimistic that it is going to look fucking brilliant.  There will be a lot of painting to be done though, so putting the final touches on the thing is going to take bloody ages, but I think it is going to be easily worth it.

In other news, this week’s podcast is a prolonged chat with Euan (of Kays Lavelle, Trampoline, Steinberg Principle and Woodenbox fame) as a way of rounding up the excellent fortnight he spent feeding and changing Song, by Toad whilst Mrs. Toad and I were off gallivanting.  So, rather than make his usual grouchy, joyless comments on posts I thought I might invite him to make his grouchy joyless comments on a podcast.  So he came round and complained and complained and generally sulked his way through the whole thing, which was nice.

Oh alright, of course he didn’t. But it just wouldn’t be fun for me if I didn’t make fun of Euan for being grouchy long past the time anyone else has ceased to find it funny.

Oh stop sulking.  You’re turning into him.  All of you.  Shame on you, people, shame on you.  Cheer the fuck up for God’s sake.

Toadcast #77 – The Grouchcast

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01. Wilco – Bull Black Nova (06.39)
02. The Kays Lavelle – Scars From the City (15.14)
03. There Will Be Fireworks – We Sleep Through the Bombs (27.37)
04. Beerjacket – Father (31.46)
05. iLiKETRAiNS – Terra Nova (39.36)
06. Andrew Bird – The Giant of Illinois (50.10)
07. Finn – The Fourth the Fifth (61.47)
08. Fleet Foxes – Oliver James (65.29)
09. Tom Waits – Temptation (74.12)

Mrs. Toad and I might be gallivanting about the Italian countryside, but we are still thinking of you, our loyal Toadlings. We may be relaxing by the pool, but we understand that life might not be quite so easy for those of you at home. Actually, fuck it, life is never this easy for us either. This is like some bizarre anomaly for us – time, peace, reading books… it’s all so fucking restful I’ve almost forgotten to swear at the locals.

The place we’re staying is just plain ridiculous. We are living in what amounts to the tiniest of little comedy garden sheds imaginable, but the outside space is some great big gigantic plaza. It’s just ridiculous.

Fortunately, there is something to lower the tone. Nature is basically a great big urinal, as we all know, and I have been doing my best to maintain a time-honoured male principle of ‘no place being too sacred or picturesque for having a sly piss’. So when the bladder beckons, so does the wall, and there I go to water the olive groves of Puglia. It feels like a public service, really it does.

Thanks again to Euan and the lads for keeping things going while we’re away. The connection here is so damn slow I really haven’t been able to read it all, but Mrs. Toad periodically checks up on things on her Blackberry (the woman’s insane) and lets me know how things are going. This news I generally treat with an indifferent grunt, before returning to the pondering of precisely which sort of cheese I most fancy for lunch, but I appreciate her efforts.

Toadcast #74 – The Poolcast

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01. The Shaky Hands – Summer’s Life (03.26)
02. Lemonjelly – Spacewalk (12.45)
03. Grandaddy – Ghost of 1672 (19.44)
04. Billie Holiday – Good Morning Heartache (24.36)
05. Animal Magic Tricks (with Neil from Meursault & Pete from The Leg) (34.42)
06. Edith Piaf – C’etait Une Histoire D’amour (38.11)
07. The Flaming Lips – Can’t Get You Out of My Head (48.12)
08. Wilco – Jolly Banker (52.17)
09. The Laurel Collective – No Pirates Left (63.04)
10. Yoshimi! – Philosophy For Fangirls (69.12)

Mrs. Toad (malingering old bag) and I are going to be live on Fresh Air at 6.30pm tonight, and I’ll post the playlist here as we go along.  This way any foul remarks can go here and not sully Fresh Air’s fine reputation as an upstanding family station.

Click on the big Listen Live button on this page to tune in.

01. King Creosote – No-one Had it Better
02. The Japanese War Effort – St John
03. Broken Records – Wolves
04. Eels – Fresh Blood
05. Jason Lytle – Flying Through Canyons
06. Jason Lytle – On a Piece of Wood I Go
07. Jesus H. Foxx – I’m Half the Man You Were
08. Yusuf Azak – The Key Underground
09. The Wave Pictures – Canary Wharf
10. Wilco – The Jolly Banker
11. Phil & the Osophers – They Threw a Shoe at You
12. The Leisure Society – The Last of the Melting Snow
13. Alberto Veto – Through Her Teeth
14. Rock Plaza Central – Don’t You Believe the Words of Handsome Men
15. The Limes – Dead Furniture
16. X Lion Tamer – Life Support Machine

Cheers folks, been fun.  See you next week 6.30pm-8pm once again.

Foiks really should be a proper word, shouldn’t it.  I think that might be as close as I get to the infitnite number of Booker Prize-winning monkeys.  That would be quite disappointing actually, wouldn’t it – Booker Prize-winning monkeys.  You wait almost an infinite amount of time (say, ‘ages’, for example) for your infinite number of monkeys to rattle off some Shakespeare and all they fucking lazy simian bastards come up with is the latest Joanne Harris Novel for Menopausal Women Who Think Their Artistic Side is Being Neglected.  Fuck you, monkeys!  The Girl With the fucking what?  Jesus, as if I didn’t feel like I was having my period already.  Mind you, it could be worse.  They could write Jeremy fucking Clarkson’s autobiography.

That picture at the top there is how we are hoping to get the Toadmobile  painted.  We spent Thursday night getting drunk together and fannying about with Photoshop to come up with a few different ideas, and that was a narrow favourite, just ahead of one in bright metallic green with black and white racing stripes down the middle.  It also was very cool indeed.  Christ knows what our mechanic is going to say when we show him that picture, but, erm, well we’ll just leave that for another day shall we.

Grmpf.  That’s it, really, so please de-lurk and chip in with your Friday Five, as pinched from the talkboards on the Guardian.  And if you want to chip in next Friday’s five then just email me at the usual address.

1. Favourite not-a-word-but-should-be.
2. Place name which sounds completely made up.
3. A word doesn’t exist for this, but it should.
4. Cool-sounding foreign word.
5. Word you could never spell.

Velvet Underground – Venus in Furs

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Wilco – I’m Always in Love

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Gomez – Make No Sound

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Lambchop – Grumpus

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My Teenage Stride – Actors’ Colony

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This week’s Toadcast has no theme at all because, erm… well, frankly they’re difficult to come up with and therefore seem just a tiny little bit like hard work.  So given I’m podcasting once a week now, I am not going to be arsed coming up with some immaculately scripted (ah ha haaa!) arrangement once every seven days, so this week it’s really just a brief tour of inbox fodder.

This weekend there are loads of good things happening, not least a performance by Mumford & Sons at the Voodoo Rooms, and a first look for me at what could potentially become an excellent new venue in Edinburgh.  That’s a secret though, so no more details than that.

So, for now enjoy the Soulcast, so named for no better reason than that the first couple of songs have the word soul in the title.  Piss-poor excuse really, isn’t it.

Toadcast #41 – The Soulcast

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01. Nat Johnson – Dirty Rotten Soul (02.39)
02. Maxwell Panther – Lost Soul on a Roll (06.21)
03. Deerhoof – Chandelier Searchlight (11.40)
04. Aberfeldy – Claire (15.01)
05. Hot Lava – Blue Dragon (21.11)
06. Deathbot – The Cold Wind Revival (23.20)
07. Lambchop – Sharing a Gibson With Martin Luther King Jr. (28.41)
08. Wilco – Company in My Back (35.45)
09. Woodenbox – Twisted Mile (39.17)
10. Pale Young Gentlemen – There is a Place (46.33)
11. Japanese Motors – Spendin’ Days (54.52)

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

One of the almighty perils of mp3 blogging (it’s a perilous business I tell you – fraught with danger…. now where was I? Ah yes, forgot to even close my brackets didn’t I. What a muppet… here you go:) So erm, anyway, one of the side-effects of mp3 blogging is that you get so utterly swamped with new music, by zealous promoters, eager bands and your own enthusiasm, that it can be hard to actually remember to listen to old stuff. Not so much the old classics, just the really excellent albums from about two or three years ago which you still love, but which are neither new enough to warrant urgent attention nor legendary enough to have indelibly permeated into your consciousness.

So today I am going to have a little look at my first ever internet Best Of list. I started regularly writing about music back in 2004, long before I even knew what blogs were, and 2004 was my first ever Official List. That was the year Wilco released their masterpiece A Ghost is Born, which was narrowly pipped to the top spot by Nick Cave’s equally stupendous double album The Lyre of Orpheus and Abbatoir Blues. Even Tom Waits released one that year. Real Gone may not have captured me at the time, but it’s one that has a surprising number of excellent songs on it when I take the time to look back.

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds – Cannibal’s Hymn
Wilco – The Late Greats
Tom Waits – Trampled Rose

Looking back at the reviews themselves from that year, I am actually surprised by how steadfast my opinions have been. I can’t say I seriously disagree with anything much I said about those 2004 releases. The Walkmen is still a storming album of fuzzy, guitar and chiming piano-driven brilliance. That Killers album is still an indie-pop classic which, despite whatever failings they might have, caught the mood of the nation perfectly that Summer. And The Dears were one of the first in a new wave of superb Canadian music who, in the track I have chosen, married indie with cabaret, somewhat oddly.

Marianne Faithfull released a record in 2004 too. It wasn’t great, largely because most of it was penned by the dismal PJ Harvey, but Nick Cave wrote a couple of decent tracks for her. The best of the lot though was Last Song, which was written by Damon Albarn who himself recorded a version for last year’s The Good, the Bad & the Queen record. I think I might prefer Marianne’s version, actually. So yes, that’s how I started. It all shifted over to Song, by Toad a year and a bit ago, then I migrated to Wordpress in about May and here we are. Let no more albums get lost in the avalanche of newness! I sometimes need to remind myself that I am a fan, not a machine.

The Walkmen – Little House of Savages
The Dears – The Death of All the Romance
Marianne Faithfull – Last Song