I'm once again indulging in a bit of nostalgic Britpop and came across this little bugger on last.fm. What's hugely worrying is that whilst I liked it, it was never a favourite song or band....
but I still remembered and mouthed pretty much every word as it was playing...
I want another shot at being 16 dammit. I'll do better this time, I swear.
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
Monday, 13 October 2008
Blame Davey
If you think about, or debate, a certain event too much, you will eventually arrive at several origin points, with the earliest being The Big Bang/Genesis etc as they were the first things ever and the debated subject eventually came from that, along with everything else. Of course, this is ludicrous, but it's always fascinating to take a major aspect of any part of Pop Culture and find its birth. The death of one scene, the emergence of a wide-eyed new talent. The possibilities are endless. Sometimes, though, its something thats not obvious and you would never think about.
So, the Myspace generation. How did it happen and why did it happen the way it did? Was its success based on the emergence of this "emo" scene, or was it something that was destined. And why, oh why do I always come back to this particular album as a turning point?
A Fire Inside (AFI) were another scraggy young punk rock band from 90s California, all ripped clothes and dodgy haircuts. Fair play to them, but nowt overly special barring a bit of energy and the odd cool track title (I Wanna Get a Mohawk (But Mom Won't Let Me Get One)). It was pretty much law that US punk bands had to like old goth punks The Misfits to some positive degree, even if it only meant to play the odd cover at Halloween. AFI, however, had some sort of moonlight-induced epiphany and decided to fully embrace their inner Danzig in 1999, which resulted in Black Sails in the Sunset complete with even weirder track names (Malleus Maleficarum, Clove Smoke Catharsis). It also got them noticed a bit more and they enjoyed it so much they never washed off the make-up again. They followed Black Sails... up in 2000 with The Art of Drowning
Not surprisingly, with any local band made good, the local rockers took notice. Orange County started to sell more black nail varnish and rock bands of other genres started dabbling in the dark (music) arts. It was around the turn of the millenium that the likes of Avenged Sevenfold, Bleeding Through and Eighteen Visions also started to make a name for themselves. Suddenly, local kids who had nothing but sunshine and ska had something a bit new and fresh to enjoy, even if the rest of the world had seen it before. The OC was black, black, BLACK, like the rivers of hell through an eternal cordial blend of evil and sin, etc. By the time AFI released the next album in early 2003, Sing the Sorrow, California had a quite a large dark-hearted community. This whole thing was no doubt exacerbated by the rest of the world spunking over Linkin Park et al. Those scensters have got to be ahead of the pack, haven't they?
Then in October 2003, somthing else happened. Some bloke called Tom decided to take the best bits of Friendster and Yahoo and came up with a new way for men to stalk hot girls. Unsurprisingly, this California-based "Myspace" malarkey seemed a great thing to grab ahold of first by these local be-gothed whippersnappers, seeing as they retained a bit of good old-fashioned hardcore elitism - "We were there first!"... Granted, everyone was going to jump in, and did, but by that time, the dark horde had made their mark with their skinny black clothing, sideswept haricuts and mirrored photography. They did get there first, kids, don't forget it!
This, of course, was dynamite for any other bands who were starting to get somwhere in 2004 as they could take full advantage. The first to this cake was My Chemical Romance, and funnily enough, they became huge. I'm not sure who decided that "emo" was the right term though. That's a discussion I never want to enter.
The rest really is history. Of course, I could be talking out my backside as I've never been to California. But I did read the rock mags on a regular basis, and I picked things up, and all of this just seems to fit:
AFI Go goth,
the local kids then go goth,
the local metal and hardcore bands go a bit goth,
they all create their own communtiy and look,
they showcase their community on some cool new platform,
the everyone else joins in....
Not that I'm saying that the biggest pop cultural phenonemnon in modern history owes AFI a few royalties, but for me, this is quite an obvious path. What I'd be keen to see is if folk have a different timeline figured.
So, the Myspace generation. How did it happen and why did it happen the way it did? Was its success based on the emergence of this "emo" scene, or was it something that was destined. And why, oh why do I always come back to this particular album as a turning point?
A Fire Inside (AFI) were another scraggy young punk rock band from 90s California, all ripped clothes and dodgy haircuts. Fair play to them, but nowt overly special barring a bit of energy and the odd cool track title (I Wanna Get a Mohawk (But Mom Won't Let Me Get One)). It was pretty much law that US punk bands had to like old goth punks The Misfits to some positive degree, even if it only meant to play the odd cover at Halloween. AFI, however, had some sort of moonlight-induced epiphany and decided to fully embrace their inner Danzig in 1999, which resulted in Black Sails in the Sunset complete with even weirder track names (Malleus Maleficarum, Clove Smoke Catharsis). It also got them noticed a bit more and they enjoyed it so much they never washed off the make-up again. They followed Black Sails... up in 2000 with The Art of Drowning
Not surprisingly, with any local band made good, the local rockers took notice. Orange County started to sell more black nail varnish and rock bands of other genres started dabbling in the dark (music) arts. It was around the turn of the millenium that the likes of Avenged Sevenfold, Bleeding Through and Eighteen Visions also started to make a name for themselves. Suddenly, local kids who had nothing but sunshine and ska had something a bit new and fresh to enjoy, even if the rest of the world had seen it before. The OC was black, black, BLACK, like the rivers of hell through an eternal cordial blend of evil and sin, etc. By the time AFI released the next album in early 2003, Sing the Sorrow, California had a quite a large dark-hearted community. This whole thing was no doubt exacerbated by the rest of the world spunking over Linkin Park et al. Those scensters have got to be ahead of the pack, haven't they?
Then in October 2003, somthing else happened. Some bloke called Tom decided to take the best bits of Friendster and Yahoo and came up with a new way for men to stalk hot girls. Unsurprisingly, this California-based "Myspace" malarkey seemed a great thing to grab ahold of first by these local be-gothed whippersnappers, seeing as they retained a bit of good old-fashioned hardcore elitism - "We were there first!"... Granted, everyone was going to jump in, and did, but by that time, the dark horde had made their mark with their skinny black clothing, sideswept haricuts and mirrored photography. They did get there first, kids, don't forget it!
This, of course, was dynamite for any other bands who were starting to get somwhere in 2004 as they could take full advantage. The first to this cake was My Chemical Romance, and funnily enough, they became huge. I'm not sure who decided that "emo" was the right term though. That's a discussion I never want to enter.
The rest really is history. Of course, I could be talking out my backside as I've never been to California. But I did read the rock mags on a regular basis, and I picked things up, and all of this just seems to fit:
AFI Go goth,
the local kids then go goth,
the local metal and hardcore bands go a bit goth,
they all create their own communtiy and look,
they showcase their community on some cool new platform,
the everyone else joins in....
Not that I'm saying that the biggest pop cultural phenonemnon in modern history owes AFI a few royalties, but for me, this is quite an obvious path. What I'd be keen to see is if folk have a different timeline figured.
Thursday, 10 July 2008
Breath Deeper, Daydreamer...
If I take 24 years of listening to music, I would find it difficult to pinpoint many artists or songs that I liked at one point but now cannot stand. Coal Chamber is the only one that springs to mind, and maybe Limp Bizkit. Granted, that's always going to be the way with albums released. I'll either quickly go off a particular album or never like it in the first place while the rest of their catalogue remains prized. Korn is an example - I needed more cash for the Reading Festival grub fund - so their later albums were flogged. I didn't eat very much...
But overall, I've always dipped into that catalogue occasionally and got some pleasure from artists who have long passed me by in sound and scene. That casette copy of the London Boys' "Twelve Commandments of Dance" got some spins a while back, and in the midst of Stock, Aitken and Waterman's jizzlobbing on the late 80s charts, their dance pop sounds pretty good nearly 20 years on.
The same goes for those Britpop artists of the mid 90s. Though I never brought a great deal before Iron Maiden grabbed me, I've still kept most of it - although I'll come back to that later. But recently, I've been listening to a lot, Mainly through last.fm and anything I've downloaded on a whim. And I have to say, I'm getting a real kick out of it and I do think that some artists were as good as the music mags of the time suggested they were, even though they wouldn't admit to it now. And what has bought this nostalgia on? This:
Phonogram is not a comic book I ever expected ro read in my lifetime. Yes, there's plenty of subjects available, but Britpop was never on that list. Never would I have thought I would read about a central character who frequently extols his perceived virtues of Sunderland mob Kenickie.
The central idea of this book is that music is linked to a kind of magical plane, where scenes are as a result of Magical and God-like activity. The Goddess Britannia conjured up the 60s stuff before returning 30 years later. And now, she is being forcibly resurrected to help create another great British scene now with a load of crap artists. Kinda.
This is one of the most original things I've ever read...and also one of the most pretentious. But it needs to be, because you cannot think of that scene, or many others, without recalling that particular characteristic of music journalism. It needs to be told in an "up its arse" method to honour the subject matter. Which means like any great album, you'll need to read it several times. The Glossary itself is nearly worth the money alone. Thanks to all the references within the book, a back-pages reference guide is needed for those who struggle to remember some of the era's lesser players. And because of the story's present day settings, it ain't just Britpop that gets all the attention. Check the Glassary for Gillen and McKelvie's fantastically brutal entry for Razorlight.
Now, about those old records. I did chuck my Oasis CDs during a More-Metal-than-Thou point in my life. D'oh. But I have no problems with chucking out that Northern Uproar single...
But overall, I've always dipped into that catalogue occasionally and got some pleasure from artists who have long passed me by in sound and scene. That casette copy of the London Boys' "Twelve Commandments of Dance" got some spins a while back, and in the midst of Stock, Aitken and Waterman's jizzlobbing on the late 80s charts, their dance pop sounds pretty good nearly 20 years on.
The same goes for those Britpop artists of the mid 90s. Though I never brought a great deal before Iron Maiden grabbed me, I've still kept most of it - although I'll come back to that later. But recently, I've been listening to a lot, Mainly through last.fm and anything I've downloaded on a whim. And I have to say, I'm getting a real kick out of it and I do think that some artists were as good as the music mags of the time suggested they were, even though they wouldn't admit to it now. And what has bought this nostalgia on? This:
Phonogram is not a comic book I ever expected ro read in my lifetime. Yes, there's plenty of subjects available, but Britpop was never on that list. Never would I have thought I would read about a central character who frequently extols his perceived virtues of Sunderland mob Kenickie.
The central idea of this book is that music is linked to a kind of magical plane, where scenes are as a result of Magical and God-like activity. The Goddess Britannia conjured up the 60s stuff before returning 30 years later. And now, she is being forcibly resurrected to help create another great British scene now with a load of crap artists. Kinda.
This is one of the most original things I've ever read...and also one of the most pretentious. But it needs to be, because you cannot think of that scene, or many others, without recalling that particular characteristic of music journalism. It needs to be told in an "up its arse" method to honour the subject matter. Which means like any great album, you'll need to read it several times. The Glossary itself is nearly worth the money alone. Thanks to all the references within the book, a back-pages reference guide is needed for those who struggle to remember some of the era's lesser players. And because of the story's present day settings, it ain't just Britpop that gets all the attention. Check the Glassary for Gillen and McKelvie's fantastically brutal entry for Razorlight.
Now, about those old records. I did chuck my Oasis CDs during a More-Metal-than-Thou point in my life. D'oh. But I have no problems with chucking out that Northern Uproar single...
Monday, 23 June 2008
Modern Times
It's not uncommon that I joke about my age and the fact I seem to be getting old quickly. Yeah, I know, it's everyone.
But seriously, I really cannot keep up with things these days. It seems that there's some new fancy gadget or software every day that everyone else knows about except me. And while I can keep up with various PC basics, with everthing else, I just feel like this poor bloke more often than not...
But seriously, I really cannot keep up with things these days. It seems that there's some new fancy gadget or software every day that everyone else knows about except me. And while I can keep up with various PC basics, with everthing else, I just feel like this poor bloke more often than not...
Sunday, 1 June 2008
You won't see that on the Tellybox! - Mooo!
So, it's a quiet autumn evening. You're off to the Lamb and Flag for a couple of mild ales with Bob from down the road. It's a pleasantly mild evening so you detour across the field to enjoy the peace of it all.
You're discussing Leeds United not getting promoted this season when you walk over a hill and see a Zombie giving one to a cow.
What do you do?
Answers on a postcard.
Alternatively, you can check out Frank Cho's "Zombie King" here. He couldn't be bothered to continue the project but we'll let him off as he's Frank Cho.
You're discussing Leeds United not getting promoted this season when you walk over a hill and see a Zombie giving one to a cow.
What do you do?
Answers on a postcard.
Alternatively, you can check out Frank Cho's "Zombie King" here. He couldn't be bothered to continue the project but we'll let him off as he's Frank Cho.
Friday, 30 May 2008
Woo hoo!
Fair to say overall, it's been a shit week. Not the worst, but rubbish is the general over-riding frame of mind by the end.
Monday saw a fairly inocuous trip to watch the new Indy flick hampered by bad weather and awful train delays everywhere. This ended up in me appearing to be on the only train moving anywhere at one point and having to arrive at a terminal destination a good mile walk from the cinema in order to guarantee getting there. And I did. After getting drenched and missing the planned viewing. Still, I saw it and got to be social even if the day felt a bit wasted.
Work? poo off. Nothing went right. Amd while I ended up doing everything that NEEDED to be done, I certainly didn't get everything done that I wanted to get done thanks to various programs buggering up and other factors getting in the way. Mail merge, anyone? Fuck off!
Electricity died on wednesday night. OK, this provided us with an excuse to spend the evening down the pub to watch a shit England match and play pool, as well as meet some new folk. But generally, offically rubbish.
Thursday - rubbish.
Today, well, I'm glad the months over, but I left the bar feeling rubbish. Mainly because of mates offering advice and opinions to me on things that they believe they know about (and maybe they do, from THEIR perspective), but that help not a jot because I'm not actually them, and I, as me, cannot legitemately apply their advice. Different strokes and all that.
I'm learning what works for me and it is getting me somewhere. Couple that with the British way of getting on with it and I'm making more progress than people think I am, but because of an established perception of character...Funnily enough, it's not me that brings this subject up as it's not a problem, but I end up having to get defensive and sound like I'm making excuses. Gee, thanks.
I'm more confident in certain regards than I've ever been. So don't bloody well shoot me down because you believe I'm going the wrong way about it. Have some faith.
Roll on June.
Monday saw a fairly inocuous trip to watch the new Indy flick hampered by bad weather and awful train delays everywhere. This ended up in me appearing to be on the only train moving anywhere at one point and having to arrive at a terminal destination a good mile walk from the cinema in order to guarantee getting there. And I did. After getting drenched and missing the planned viewing. Still, I saw it and got to be social even if the day felt a bit wasted.
Work? poo off. Nothing went right. Amd while I ended up doing everything that NEEDED to be done, I certainly didn't get everything done that I wanted to get done thanks to various programs buggering up and other factors getting in the way. Mail merge, anyone? Fuck off!
Electricity died on wednesday night. OK, this provided us with an excuse to spend the evening down the pub to watch a shit England match and play pool, as well as meet some new folk. But generally, offically rubbish.
Thursday - rubbish.
Today, well, I'm glad the months over, but I left the bar feeling rubbish. Mainly because of mates offering advice and opinions to me on things that they believe they know about (and maybe they do, from THEIR perspective), but that help not a jot because I'm not actually them, and I, as me, cannot legitemately apply their advice. Different strokes and all that.
I'm learning what works for me and it is getting me somewhere. Couple that with the British way of getting on with it and I'm making more progress than people think I am, but because of an established perception of character...Funnily enough, it's not me that brings this subject up as it's not a problem, but I end up having to get defensive and sound like I'm making excuses. Gee, thanks.
I'm more confident in certain regards than I've ever been. So don't bloody well shoot me down because you believe I'm going the wrong way about it. Have some faith.
Roll on June.
Sunday, 25 May 2008
You won't see that on the tellybox! - Frank goes to the Zoo
It's fair to say that I rarely see anything in films or on TV that surprise me. It may be a great story well written, but it is unlikely it will contain anything that truly makes me go "woah, nellie". Doctor Who could, but never does. Perhaps when Steven Moffat takes over as chief bloke it may, but that's in another couple of years.
I leave the surprises and shocks to the comic books. Even after the best part of 15 years serious reading, I still come across events that may or may not be intrinsic to the plot, but leave me utterly dumbfounded. I thought I'd share them with you. Viewers of a nervous disposition...probably shouldn't be reading this blog in the first place. You've got other things to worry about, I'm sure.
The Punisher likes his guns. He likes using his guns. A lot. Driven insane by the murder of his family, Frank Castle chooses to spend his friday and saturday nights blasting holes in any serious lawbreaker he can. And if he hasn't got a gun, he'll be using something else, especially if it's one of nature's natural killing machines. Have you ever felt threatened by some oik with a Staffy outside Woolies? No need, they're both pussies. There's far more hardcore out there as Marvel's Second Punisher volume #4 showed back in 2000.
On the run from Ma Gnucci's 'orrible lot, Frank sidesteps into the local Zoo and heads straight for the fishies. Piranah are fishies, and to be fair the following isn't the first time these toothy bastards get a hefty free meal:
Let's face it, Joe Dante got there first.
Still, piranhas and a subsequent man-sized boa are small fry, it's the polar bears you've got to worry about. What's that, you say? They kill for fun, of course they're a danger! Well, yes, you'd be right, which is why you wouldn't see this coming:
And, frankly, neither did the polar bear.
Still, here are some nice mobsters saying hello.
What's that, Mr Bear, you don't take kindly to being punched?
Frank has since attempted to replace the deceased Steve Rogers as Captain America.
America! Fuck, yeah!
I leave the surprises and shocks to the comic books. Even after the best part of 15 years serious reading, I still come across events that may or may not be intrinsic to the plot, but leave me utterly dumbfounded. I thought I'd share them with you. Viewers of a nervous disposition...probably shouldn't be reading this blog in the first place. You've got other things to worry about, I'm sure.
The Punisher likes his guns. He likes using his guns. A lot. Driven insane by the murder of his family, Frank Castle chooses to spend his friday and saturday nights blasting holes in any serious lawbreaker he can. And if he hasn't got a gun, he'll be using something else, especially if it's one of nature's natural killing machines. Have you ever felt threatened by some oik with a Staffy outside Woolies? No need, they're both pussies. There's far more hardcore out there as Marvel's Second Punisher volume #4 showed back in 2000.
On the run from Ma Gnucci's 'orrible lot, Frank sidesteps into the local Zoo and heads straight for the fishies. Piranah are fishies, and to be fair the following isn't the first time these toothy bastards get a hefty free meal:
Let's face it, Joe Dante got there first.
Still, piranhas and a subsequent man-sized boa are small fry, it's the polar bears you've got to worry about. What's that, you say? They kill for fun, of course they're a danger! Well, yes, you'd be right, which is why you wouldn't see this coming:
And, frankly, neither did the polar bear.
Still, here are some nice mobsters saying hello.
What's that, Mr Bear, you don't take kindly to being punched?
Frank has since attempted to replace the deceased Steve Rogers as Captain America.
America! Fuck, yeah!
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