In 1992, INXS released their best album, Welcome To Wherever You Are. It contains the somewhat prescient song, Not Enough Time. When I hear this song in my head, it goes "Not enough time for all that I want to do" (although the actual lyrics are slightly different). Those lyrics pop into my head more and more frequently as the clock ticks ever onward... in a similar fashion to the way the lyrics to We Have All The Time In The World fill my mind whenever I'm in a rush to get somewhere and I find myself stuck behind a Louis.
I sometimes wonder if I like too much music. If I'd be better off if my tastes were more niche and not so varied. Because there really is NOT ENOUGH TIME to listen to everything I want to listen to. Every time I visit the tube of you, a new band pops up demanding my attention. On first listen, a lot of them sound intriguing... like this lot, who may well be of some interest to Martin...
Brigitte Calls Me Baby appear to be the latest in a long, long, long line of bands who want to sound like The Smiths. But how many of those ever made it big? Suede? Gene? (Not really.) The Killers? (As soon as they did, they stopped trying to sound like The Smiths.)
Lead singer Wes Leavins (with his enormous Morrissey quiff) claims to be more influenced by Sinatra, Orbison and Presley... ✔, ✔, ✔... but it's The Smiths I hear (and see) in the videos above and below... and that's why they're on the list.
Often, when I hear a song I like on another blog, I'll leave a comment saying "That's going on the list." Similarly, when I hear something interesting on the radio. Like this little beauty from Irish singer-songwriter Ultan Conlon...
I like the folky atmosphere on that, and the idea that if we don't keep the old songs alive (whether they be Raglan Road or Girls Just Wanna Have Fun), they'll fade from our collective consciousness. I used to enjoy listening to the late Desmond Carrington on Radio 2. He'd play a really diverse mix of music, some of it old and forgotten from the 30s, 40s or 50s, alongside more recent or well known choices. I heard things on his show I'd never heard before on the radio, and probably never will again.
As Ultan puts it...
Who's gonna play the old songs when all the old-timers are gone?
Here's an old song I've been playing a lot lately...
See? It's all too much, isn't it? Imagine if I just liked indie music, or rock, or old soul, or country and Americana... if I specialised in power pop or new wave or gentle, acoustic singer-songwritery stuff. Then I'd be able to focus. I'd be able to concentrate on one thing and enjoy it for what it is and not always be worrying about finding the next new thing... or the next old thing... in the hope it might hit me like a chaise longue or gradually unveil its beauty over a half dozen listens like the best of Jason Isbell.
But I don't just like one thing. I like all kinds of different things, and being able to switch genres and keep it fresh is essential in my listening. But then I also like digging back into the archives too. Except when do I have the time? I mentioned at the top of the page that Welcome To Wherever You Are is the best album INXS ever made. And yet I'm making that assessment safe in the knowledge that I haven't listened to it all the way through in 30 years. But The List keeps growing, and it's growing from all sides. New things, old things that are new to me, old things that I know but I haven't listened to in ages... and on and on and on...
Take that lot, for instance. Life are from Hull. Let's not hold that against them, because on the evidence of the track above... they're excellent. Bear in mind that they released that two years ago and this is the first time I've come across them, but they already appear to have released three albums. What if they're all as good as that song? I ought to drop everything else this instance and devote the next three weeks to familiarising myself with their back catalogue... but I haven't got the time because I also have to check out these guys...
L.A. Edwards come from... erm, Los Angeles... although the LA doesn't stand for what you think - it's lead singer Luke Andrew's initials. They supported Lucinda Williams last weekend and as soon as I heard them, I knew I wanted to hear more. So they've gone on The List.
There's so much music out there waiting to be discovered, it's a truly daunting prospect. Because what if I never hear that one song that changes my life forever? It's out there somewhere, I know it is. That's why I have The List...
Ernie gave a fine tribute to the late Melanie Safka, and I'm not sure there's much I can add, though I was interested to read her comments in defence of her most famous (and in certain quarters, controversial) song...
I wrote in about fifteen minutes one night. I thought it was cute; a kind of old thirties tune. I guess a key and a lock have always been Freudian symbols, and pretty obvious ones at that. There was no deep serious expression behind the song, but people read things into it. They made up incredible stories as to what the lyrics said and what the song meant. In some places, it was even banned from the radio. My idea about songs is that once you write them, you have very little say in their life afterward. It's a lot like having a baby. You conceive a song, deliver it, and then give it as good a start as you can. After that, it's on its own. People will take it any way they want to take it.
One of the greatest crimes ever committed in pop was when some fool let The Wurzels have the rights to that.
I was never a huge fan of country star Toby Keith. He was a bit too New-Nashville for me, shiny and macho, pick-up trucks, Jesus, the Star Spangled Banner etc. etc. For me, he didn't have the everyman wit of Brad Paisley, the outlaw spirit of Eric Church or even the songwriting chops of early Blake Shelton.
All that said, I was shocked to hear of his death from cancer at just 62. That's no age.
Here's a song of Toby's that I did like. It's a good one to remember him by...
Carl Weathers will best be remembered as Apollo Creed in the Rocky movies, though he also appeared in Predator, Arrested Development and The Mandalorian. Plus, for video shop kids of the 80s, he was Action Jackson. As a singer, he only ever released one record, this smooth soul number from 1981...
They even named themselves after the Fred Savage sitcom. What's not to love?
Swiss Adam wrote a superb piece of the late Wayne Kramer, guitarist with the MC5. Again, there's little I can add to that, but I will say that when Ben alerted me to Wayne's passing, my reply was four words long...
As far as I'm concerned though, you won't find a better tribute than this...
We've got Kramer coming over
To produce us
So that we can show off to our specialist friends
Go down to the Falcon in Camden and say
"I'll have a pint for myself and a pint for the ex-MC5″
Finally, my thoughts go out to Bruce, who lost his mum, Adele Springsteen, earlier this week. She was 98 and had been battling Alzheimer's for a long time... but what a legacy.
Here's the story of how she bought Bruce his first guitar...
I've never done karaoke. Not because of any muso-snobbery on my part, merely because I guess I hang out with people who wouldn't be seen dead in a karaoke contest. The frustrated pop star in me regrets this quite a lot. Maybe I ought to start a sad, middle-aged bucket-list and put karaoke at the top of the list, rather than sky diving or bungee jumping.
Anyway, here's ten songs about singing someone else's songs badly over a tinny backing track...
Someone gets run down Karaoke plays somewhere in the background, But there is no explanation What makes a grown man cry? Karaoke plays and someone gets run down
That's probably pretty deep if you think about it.
I got a renewed respect for Kate Nash following her performance in the Netflix show GLOW, so I was pleased to see she had a new record out. This is a pretty fine cut from that...
Three long-forgotten Britpop and post-Britpop bands for the price of one: all of them far more interesting than Oasis. Particularly Younger Younger 28's - why weren't they massive? All worth a listen if you dig that era.
Any excuse to play this, Elbow's rockiest moment... with a Costello-esque venom to the lyrics.
There's this whispering of jokers doing flesh by the pound
To a chorus of supposes from the little town whores
There'll be twisted karaoke at the Aniseed Lounge
And I'll bring you further roses
But it does you no good
And it does me no good
And it does you no good
1. Blur - The Universal
Gonna have to give the crown to Blur, for probably their finest hour after Song 2 (and certainly their most optimistic)... even though they disgraced themselves somewhat by letting it be used in a British Gas ad campaign. Surely you didn't need the money that much, Damon?
Every night we're gone
And to karaoke songs
How we like to sing a long
Although the words are wrong
It really, really, really could happen
Yes, it really, really, really could happen
When the days they seem to fall through you, well just let them go
Never really thought the Clockwork Orange video did the song justice, but here it is anyway...
Hola, amigos, gringos and muchachos... and other stereotypical Mexican greetings. This week, in lieu of anything resembling a decent summer in the UK, I thought I'd go somewhere hot...
Always keen to sieze the role of the underdog, Moz finds empathy for Mex when he senses "the hate from the Lone Star State". (As we'll see later, not all Texans are enemies of Texas.)
It seems if you're rich and you're white You think you're so right I just don't see why this should be so
Sometimes I think he writes songs like this just to confuse the NME.
I don't know much about Cinco De Mayo I'm never sure, what it's all about But I say I want you and you don't believe me You say you want me but I've got my doubts
Apparently, Cinco De Mayo is the day the Mexican army thrashed the French. Seems reason enough to celebrate to me. (Only kidding, French readers.)
I'm often vocal in my defence of contemporary country against naysayers who claim it's cheesy, overblown, jingoistic nonsense.
I will stand up and make a claim for the best of the genre representing the kind of classic storytelling guitar pop Squeeze, Kirsty MacColl or Pulp once brought into the UK charts: the kind of songs you might think nobody writes anymore.
Toby Keith is an interesting case though. At times he commits all the crimes named in that first paragraph - sometimes egregiously. He has neither the wit nor the smarts of Brad Paisley nor the sincere pop cool of Blake Shelton. But on occasion, he writes a clever, amusing ditty like this one that I just can't get out of my head. It's about a couple of strangers who meet in a Mexican bar. Both are married, but not to each other...
One more tequila And they were falling in love One more is never enough...
I was amused by a review quoted on iffypedia saying the song was "great until you process the depth of its immorality; then, you’re just sick to your stomach." Yeah, like nobody's ever written a pop song glorifying infidelity before...
Guy Garvey wishes a love rival dead... if only he was tough enough to take some kind of action...
Your sweet reassurances don't change the fact
That he's better looking than me
Yet he'd look ideal 'neath the wheels of a car
Oh, Mexican standoff, I wish I was hard
One of the best lines in the second series of True Detective came from Vince Vaughan...
"That's one off my bucket list: a Mexican standoff with actual Mexicans..."
Love the Fountains - surprised they don't show up here more often. This is from the excellent album Welcome, Interstate Managers (one of their best) and it showcases their always entertaining mix of power pop guitars and Douglas Coupland-esque lyrics...
He was killed by a cellular phone explosion
They scattered his ashes across the ocean
The water was used to make baby lotion
The wheels of promotion were set into motion
1. Blake Shelton - Playboys Of The Southwestern World
A few weeks back I was singing the praises of Shelton's Austin, but here we go a little bit further south as he and his old buddy John Roy take a Mexican vacation and end up with "a little change of plans... like when Paul McCartney got busted in Japan". With a little help from Van Morrison's Brown-Eyed Girl along the way (I love the way Shelton sings those sha-la-las kinda out of tune, like a couple of drunk mates would). A great song about friendship, with a wicked sense of humour and a wonderfully flawed narrator too.
Ah we're still best friends (Temporary cell mates...)
