Ah, Excess

The obvious by-product of abundance is excess. Us Brits, we seem to love it. I dare say I'm no exception to this in respects. However, our excessive consumption knows no bounds and we've reached a point of such late Roman proportions that I think we might be at breaking point. The good news is it makes for fucking hilarious viewing.


Tricky - Excess

A spate of lads'/birds' holiday shows have been on our TV screens recently, with tonight bringing us Channel 4's What Happens in Kavos... - clearly Channel 4 couldn't wait to get in on the schlocky action provided by BBC 3's Sun, Sex and Suspicious Parents and ITV's Magaluf Weekender. These shows highlight the gratuitous galavanting our late teens love to practice during the summer and set out to shock a middle class, middle aged stream of parents who seem happy to constantly parade their disgust at such matters. Indeed, the wasteful, nihilistic behaviour of these young boys and girls is really quite shocking (though, only about 6 or 7 years ago I'd have been there myself I must concede), but, quite frankly, these fleeting moments in the sun before they head off to Uni or the production line (or wherever kids go when the fees are too high and there are no jobs available) are quite understandable really. They go off and let off some steam for a week or two amongst some like-minded folk in the sun, safe in the knowledge that they're due to be headed back to 'Broken Britain' at the end of it all. Excessive drinking, fucking and vomiting ensues and they come back to Mum and Dad fully knackered. Job done.


Following the herd down to Greece

The actions of those pseudo bourgeois parents of theirs, however, are rather more inexcusable and downright unexplainable. Will Self's wonderful 10 min tirade at the actions of folk whose sole purpose these days is so sonorously to consume mass amounts of poncy nosh highlighted this wonderfully on Radio 4 the other night. His A Point of View special on what is conventionally known as 'the foodie revolution' was a tour de force in cultural comment which left me in no doubt that I utterly agree with Mr. Self. Curtness was not the tone of the day (and why would it be with such a doyenne of wordsmithery?) as Self ran through all of the problems with this fat, feckless attitude towards sustainability and cultural capital. A clever line about how middle class aspirations are now seemingly more achievable through Dorset Vinny instead of Warwickshire Shakespeare, which I cannot now fully recall to quote, stuck out particularly and, at the risk of turning this into a televisual polemic, it is really Channel 4 and the like who are pushing this agenda. Indeed, as those parents sit around disgusted by the ludicrous habits of their excessive spawn, as they mull over why young Jack and Sarah cannot resist going so wild with their booze, they guzzle Pinot Noir and chomp on over-sized portions of baked Camembert with aplomb without a thought for the waste or the health problems this may cause. Like some truly crazed bunch of addicts, they cannot resist discussing the merits of grilled figs and rare steaks and potatoes dauphinoise as they watch Jamie do it all in half an hour and the truly ridiculous Heston Blumenthal make chemistry cocktails out of cockles and cheese.

The respectable face of uber consumption - sole fillets

Consumption is a monster, however, those who practice it in its ugliest form seem to be overrun with disgust that their kids have no control either. The hypocrisy is leaden by its own weight and in any case, they raised them. Seemingly, though, we will not get past this until the major television companies stop exploiting all of the facets of excess for entertainment, which probably means we will not get past this. May as well just sit back and enjoy the show.

5 of the Best: 2012

As a final note on last year I've decided to throw together what I think were 5 of the best songs released. 2012 was indeed a rich musical year and I believe you'll see that reflected here - or you'll see how truly weak I am for a hook that stays in your head.

Gotye ft. Kimbra - Somebody that I Used to Know: Elegantly simple, stupidly catchy and sung with a passionate vocal timbre unheard since Sting was screaming that he was "so lonely", this song was probably the song of 2012 in terms of impact. It was also nice to see a well constructed pop song at the top of the charts for once. I wonder if Gotye will just be a one hit wonder though...

Grizzly Bear - Yet Again: This is probably my personal favourite of 2012. Wonderfully reverb-affected guitar tones, simply hit, full barre chords with a divinely stylised pop vocal melody - for me this is the best track off of Shields, which is no mean feat as it is a fine album.


Grizzly Bear - Yet Again

Grimes - Oblivion: Grimes's blend of breathy, high-pitched vocals vs. simple beats and synth works to such effect that it would not be over zealous to compare her to Hounds of Love era Kate Bush. Beautiful art pop and this song maybe best showcases her talents.

Plan B - Ill Manors: Ben Drew's polemical breakdown does more to address the state of the nation and the snobbery of the right wing media in modern day Britain in around four minutes than any pathetic governmental olive branches could. Leaving the Coalition with yet more questions to answer, the song is an aggro-filled whirlwind of 'chip-on-the-shoulder' outrage. Mainstream British hip-hop would be in a horrible state without him.


Plan B - Ill Manors

Carly Rae Jepsen - Call Me Maybe: I probably shouldn't admit this, but I do like this song. Or, rather, it's not that I particularly like it, but that I can seemingly never get it out of my bloody head! Therefore it's earned its inclusion.

Music in Review: Eminem - Early Period

Eminem's first three albums (I am not counting Infinite on here due to its minuscule success, impact and bearing on the Eminem story), upon which my main focus will be planted for this post, are truly up there with the finest ever to be released and sold as 'hip-hop' albums. From his controversial, vulgar and heretic beginnings on The Slim Shady LP through to the grown-up angst vs. school boy vernacular of The Marshall Mathers LP up to the fully-realised, politicised and at points idealised wonder of The Eminem Show, I intend to look at the journey made in the late '90s and early '00s by one of the period's only real mainstream stars to do what all 'yoof' icons should do: scare the shit out of parents.

First Run - On the early singles and first album Eminem pushed his nihilistic rhetoric to the fore. Constant cursing and fore-fronting filthy themes, even playing the bad cop to Dr. Dre's (yes, Dr. bloody Dre) good cop on 'Guilty Conscience', Eminem was seemingly trying to make all of those controversial icons before him, such as Alice Cooper, Johnny Rotten and Keith Richards, seem like The Osmonds. Mindless homophobia and sexism pervades the whole period and was, to some, its root problem. I, however, think that there were three rather deliberate reasons that Eminem went down this route.

The highly controversial Slim Shady LP cover

The first is obvious, in that he had a deliberate plan to be as bathed in taboo as humanly possible, but was also in the rap game and therefore could not dare go down the race route - leaving two other vanguard cultural taboos. The second reason I feel Eminem pushed the homophobic/sexist agenda was that it made business sense: controversy sells and, as a poor kid from Detroit, money was no doubt a driving force behind launching his career in such a way. The third reason is slightly less black and white, if you'll excuse a rather crude pun on my earlier point. Eminem, to me, of all of the rap stars of his time, had the most intellectual awareness. In relaying this misdirected anger to his audience, he was rather cleverly relaying the thoughts of many bored, disaffected youths in the age of hyper-consumerism and displaying the way in which they frivolously projected their own anger and despair onto any weaker outlet (as adolescents pretty much always have done and always will do). This zeitgeisty approach in turn ignited the perfect response in the older generation - the free love hippies of the baby boomer generation - in that it caused them to stir and try to condescendingly 'protect' their children from this menace in much the same way their parents had to them when Hendrix, Jagger and Lennon were trying to 'corrupt' them (Anthony Bozza's Whatever You Say I Am: The Life and Times of Eminem argues this point with more virulence and in more depth than I have the capacity or wont to here).

Throughout his early run Eminem was vilified and made into the satanic monster he had arguably clearly wanted to be, but would strike back at his adversaries in the most eloquent, sardonic and aggressive of fashions.


Guilty Conscience 

The Tricky 2nd Album - Not so it would seem for Slim Shady (his creative death would come later, particularly on Encore, a rather shoddy attempt at Beastie Boys-esque frat rap). The Marshall Mathers LP is, to my mind, as good a hip-hop album as there has ever been. At times a passionate plea and cutting comment on the nature of celebrity ('Stan', 'The Way I Am'), at others a humorous, drug-fuelled social parody of the late '90s ('Drug Ballad', 'The Real Slim Shady') and at others just straight hip-hop 'bangers' with more balls than a billiards table ('Bitch Please II', 'Who Knew?'), The Marshall Mathers LP shifts and shudders around through various shocking skits and utter rhythmic and lyrical realisation.

During this period, the whole Aftermath stable of rappers and producers were enjoying a high old time both creatively and commercially. Dr Dre's collaboration-heavy 2001 was a worldwide smash hit and a fine album, Xzibit burst onto the scene as a new and exciting force with his unrelentingly catchy lead single 'X' and Snoop Dogg was seemingly ubiquitous with an array of guest spots and hits of his own - his star will seemingly never fade. Eminem had reached what may now be looked back upon as his zenith. Unbeknownst to most at the time, between here and 2003 would be Eminem's magnum opus. He was startlingly churning out groundbreaking material a la The Beatles during the time of Revolver and Sgt Pepper's... and never again would things get so good after one last wonderful triumph...

The Marshall Mathers LP

The 3rd Way - On 2002's The Eminem Show (seemingly, during this first period of Em's musical career, an album which didn't reference him or his persona didn't exist), Eminem went to town like never before. Devoting a whole song to berating his mother (and, beyond her, pious, middle class American soccer mom's everywhere) on 'Cleaning Out My Closet', letting rip on the state of American politics post-9/11 in a polemical fashion ('Square Dance') and going to town, back-to-back, with his compadre (another crappy pun for you) on most of their nemeses ('Say What You Say'), made The Eminem Show that man's most personal and introspective work to date. The sheer awe-striking lyrical dexterity throughout the album is something to behold in itself, but is best displayed in a microcosmic format on the incomparable 'Say Goodbye Hollywood' - a song of such power and resonance that it may well be his finest comment on the idiocy of believing in celebrity culture (there are quite a few), all the while referencing Billy Joel. (Indeed, the classic rock reference points do not stop there, with 'Sing For the Moment' sampling Aerosmith's classic 'Dream On' and 'Till I Collapse' sampling 'We Will Rock You' by Queen). As it was, The Eminem Show was also the album that won Eminem critical applause aplenty. That older generation that had seen him as a menace and a punk suddenly seemed to be gushing over him, the irony of which was no doubt not lost on him.


Say Goodbye Hollywood

All in all, the first 3 albums and run of singles from Eminem's career between 1999 and 2003 can be considered among, if not as the greatest ever achieved by anybody in hip-hop. That his more recent output is sketchier and not as consistent is by-the-by when one considers the magnitude, scope and genius of his work during this period.

2012 - So that's that out of the way

Here it is... a banal recap of the year just gone - Wiggo, Ennis, Osborne, Boris and Woy. And in music The XX released the follow up to their Mercury prize winning debut, Emeli Sande broke onto the scene and the Justice for the 96 campaign was Christmas Number 1. In literature we had the fervour of Fifty Shades and, in turn, millions of Random House copycats like whatever Silvia Day decided to put out. In film we had a fantastic new Bond and the adaptation of Les Mis. In television we saw the final nail in the X Factor coffin. Right, that's that then. Now for some real comment.

Firstly, 2012 was the year when everybody lost their mind in grotesque over celebration and flag waving. In the same year that it was called to pass that a referendum would eventually take place on splitting the Union, ironically everybody went nuts for waving the flag of that very alliance. The Jubilee, the Olympics and the Paralympics provided a platform upon which the nation could zealously scream "we're proud" in an almost imperial fashion. The most ridiculous thing about the whole charade was the masses of nutters getting pissed on, watching an elderly pair of toffs have exactly the same happen to them on a quite ludicrous boat on the Thames. Me, I watched it scornfully from the pub, moaning about the cost to the taxpayer.

Just look at them

Another ridiculous national trait this year was in some ways related to the abovementioned. It came out of the moronic wish that football fans and players would behave like their Olympic counterpartts. It really is like comparing bollocks to mud - they are two totally different beasts. The Olympics is an event which comes around every four years and roughly once every blue moon to the same city and is filled with audiences who really do not have the first clue about what they are watching other than that they want their home country to win. By contrast, football is on throughout about 10 months of the year every year with a fan base that watches it religiously, knows each player and is, on average, pretty clued up about how the game works. Add to that the fact that the fans on the terraces spend a good deal of their hard-earned cash on going to watch their beloved sides one day a weekend and possibly a midweek evening and the passion, the tribalism and the hysteria are only multiplied. It won't be all dandy smiles and kids singing along - as Bill Shankly once said "some people think that football is a matter of life and death. I can assure you it's much more important than that".


Tame Impala - Elephant (on Jools Holland)

2012 was also the year, however, that the music industry hype machine slowed down somewhat and, alas, some great records came out off of the back of it. Tame Impala, Yeasayer and, as mentioned, The XX released fine albums with Lonerism, Fragrant World and Coexist respectively. Tame Impala particularly could have been destroyed by the frantic 'buzz' that bags on a new band, beseeching them to be heroes of their generation, however, a steady rise and a sonically intriguing/radio friendly single such as 'Elephant' gave them a platform from which to become something more than could have been maybe had they exploded between the years 2001 - 2011.

2012 was a daft year really. The Rolling Stones turned 50 and had punters paying through their noses for the pleasure, the Olympics turned the UK into a nation of stirring sycophants and for once nobody believed England could win a major tournament (low and behold they didn't). Gone was our usual grump - replaced by the inverse. No doubt 2013 will restore the balance what with the onset of more economic trouble, possible Syria intervention, the possibility of the war to end all wars if Iran and Israel kick off and no "great summer of sport" keeping everybody's eyes away from the real issues. I'm going to make sure I read some of the acclaimed novels of 2012 that I didn't get round to perusing (namely Will Self's Umbrella and Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall) follow up and watch The Bourne Legacy (again, I didn't get round to this in 2012) and keep enjoying some of the wonderful sounds of 2012 (aforementioned). Behind me I shall put the nauseating flag waving and pageantry and Wiggo - everybody's new favourite mod. I cannot stand the milking poser personally.

Keep Revenue & Customs Satisfied - Happy Mondays @ The Roundhouse, Camden

Contrary to the previous night at the Hammersmith Apollo, The Happy Mondays were in fine form at Camden's Roundhouse last Thursday performing a storming set. Kicking straight off with 'Hallelujah', the Manchester party animals went straight for the jugular, careening their way through their majestic back catalogue.

Modern Day Mondays

Shaun Ryder moves around even less than he did before, but this did not detract from the band rolling back the years and creating a proper Christmas carnival. The gobbledygook artistry of Ryder's lyrics could just be made out through his nasal Manchester drawl with his slight slur (brought on no doubt by years of inebriation) evident and indeed adding to the pageantry of it all. Bez danced on a handful of the songs played, seemingly no longer able to do the full set now that he's not bacchanalian and mashed from MDMA mortification. The band sounded tight and together, with Paul Ryder's funk style bass cutting through the house tinged grooves and distorted, loose guitar phrases perfectly - abetted by the encompassing acoustics of one of London's best venues.

The Mondays played to their strengths throughout the gig. Rowetta, in fine fettle and voice, wore a fantastic Mrs. Claus suit and Ryder stood almost immobile to create a great visual against all of the motion around him. Dedicating one track (I cannot remember which one exactly) to "the good people at Customs and Excise" and ironically calling Bez a "slim, good looking, handsome coont", Shaun Ryder played the working class jester adeptly between songs and kept the crowd engaged.

Bez and Shaun Ryder in their pomp

An inspired version of '24 Hour Party People' brought the house down and had the crowd raving like it was 1989 once more. The Mondays worked the audience perfectly and the night was a true success. Encoring with 'Step On' - Rowetta once again showing her voice still holds up on the "he's gonna step on you again" parts - was the only way to go and once finished the band left in an almost seraphic manner, clearly far more sober than they once were.

Keep the Customers Satisfied! Paul Weller @ Hammersmith Apollo

Last Wednesday I saw Paul Weller headline the Crisis charity's Christmas benefit gig at the Hammersmith Apollo. As I gaily anticipated the evening's festivities in The Swan pub just up the road from the venue and mulled over what he might play, what he might omit and what he should play in my head I could not have expected such a listless set list as the one which was to come.

Indeed, I had been forewarned by a couple of people that he would more than likely pack the set heavily with new material, but I could not have foreseen how much of that stuff he would throw in (or how badly it translates live). Weller started the set with the frankly retroactive 'From the Floorboard's Up' from 2005's As is Now in emphatic fashion with gusto and energy in equal measure, leading to a joyous, high octane response from the rather large audience in the West London auditorium. Having done so he raised my expectancy of the evening's potential tenfold and for a little while I was still full of that same hopeful postulation until we got about three quarters of the way through.

As I nipped out for a cheeky cigarette with my brother, I assured him that Weller was sure to play his older, and bluntly better, material in the second half of the gig and so now was a good time for a smoke (this was roughly halfway through). Oh, how we looked forward to hearing 'Down in the Tube Station at Midnight' from the Jam period of his career and something from Stanley Road and even a Style Council number might go down well we thought, but alas it wasn't to be.

Weller

As we resumed, Woking's most famous son cranked out a thumping rendition of 'Strange Town' and lifted those of us in the upper seating enclosure to our feet to dance. A rapturous, emotive applause went up at the song's summit, leading me to believe we would surely be treated to more of the same now that we had endured a load of sprawling self-indulgence from 22 Dreams and Sonic Kicks. As it was we got another half-hour or so of the new stuff before The Modfather exited stage left. During the encore we had to endure Emeli Sande for a duet and then, finally, we got a decent rendition of 'That's Entertainment' with Bradley Wiggins rather needlessly helping out on rhythm (he's a better cyclist than guitarist) and, of course, as is his wont these days, getting his mug in for some attention and milking the summer of 2012 for all it's worth.

My overall feeling at the end of the gig was one of indifference to what I had just seen. Paul Weller seemingly doesn't know how to keep a paying audience engaged. Looking downwards into his Telecaster and riffing against a backdrop of Dadrock soul instead of firing into a few classics and giving his fans a good time is not how to do it. By all means play some new stuff, but remember where your bread is buttered and keep the customers satisfied.

5 of the Best - Home

I've recently moved into a new home back down in London. Clearly apathy has taken over my ability to conjure up anything mildly relative to what's actually going on in the world, so here's 5otB to do with home.

Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young - Our House: I had to, didn't I? This absolutely magnificent confection of a song is stuck in my head due to Grand Designs being on the box 24/7 (the sponsors, B&Q, use it as their sponsor's advert song). David Nash's simple harmonic movement offset by the dreamlike vocal melody and lyrics which force home that idyllic, faux aspirational nonsense Channel 4 seem to love all work to create a song which is half social parody, half Beatles-esque pop perfection.


Our House

Simon & Garfunkel - Homeward Bound: Paul Simon's dreary-cum-happy ode to being back in New York when stuck at a listless train station in Northern England should resonate with anybody who has had the misfortune of being stuck in such a pickle. Up there with S & G's finest.

Bob Dylan - Subterranean Homesick Blues: In truth, this song does not need my endorsement on a post on a blog read by a handful of people. Its power, influence and place in time are cemented whatever I say, however, when one is trying to place homey imagery and the sheer poetic chaos of it all, one need look no further. The basement, the pavement, the bed, the alleyway, the raw wonder of the Beat-cum-Eliot-cum-Blues-cum-Guthrie brutality of this song's lyric and musical signifiers throw caution to the wind and stupefy anybody faced with it.


Dylan at his mercurial peak

Sam Cooke - Bring it on Home to Me: Sam Cooke's voice against the sound of a pneumatic drill ripping through a pavement while somebody rubbed sandpaper against one's cornea would still delight, soothe and dumbfound. Against this song it does all that and more. Yeaheyah.

Tame Impala - Music to Walk Home By: Tame Impala are one of my favourite bands of 2012. Their '66-'67 era Beatles style with a modern inflection has a trippy, throwback-yet-relevant appeal unlike anything I've heard in recent years. This song, much like Lonerism, the album it comes from, is a superb, psychedelic ride that nobody could want to get off of.


Music to Walk Home By