Updated for 2012! Oh yeah.

Man, it's been awhile. I hadn't realized just how long. Time just sort of slipped away. It has a habit of doing that.

It's 2012 now. You may have noticed. Good riddance to 2011, I say. Of the many years I have been alive that one sticks out as a particularly stressful one. So what's new? What's changed? In the world? In the media? Absolutely nothing from what I can tell. In my life? I moved. I got a new computer. I got a record player again, and with it a reoccurance of a severe vinyl addiction. I got my first DJ gig last month, playing some tunes and warming up the crowd before some live bands at a new venue in town. I played a bunch of great hip hop. A couple of people danced. The feedback seemed positive. I might be doing another one in April, possibly.

I'm flying to Dublin tomorrow night. I can almost taste the Guinness now.

I've been cooking a lot lately, riding my bike again and have even attempted running. What a shit habit that is. And as usual I have been increasingly frustrated with the awful state of current popular music. It becomes more clear every day that I am hurtling towards my destiny of being an angry old man who hates young people. Except in my case I feel I will be right. I imagine all old guys say that though, right? Maybe in my case it will be true though? It has to be.

This of course flies in the face of my attempts to be more positive, less negative and cynical. Fortunately I have videos like the Miles Davis concert I posted recently to wash away the bad feelings. Besides, it feels ever more redundant to complain about music celebrated in UK Top 40 charts.

I have also been coveting the ginger cat who lives across the street. He is a handsome gentle soul. I watch him through my kitchen window when I'm washing dishes, and pass him on the street walking to the train. He doesn't seem to know fear. He looks at people and dogs with the same innocent eyes, and enjoys a good cuddle. I cringe sometimes when watching him from my kitchen window when he runs across the street. Too many cars seem indifferent to running cats.

Anyway, since I've remembered this thing exists, I'll get back to posting stuff on here. You know, for the hordes at home waiting in front of their laptops with baited breath.

Oh and I hope you've all been well.

Charity shops and soul food...

I was in Preston last week. A town about an hour and a half south of here. Turns out it's the charity shop capital of the United Kingdom. Or at least I assume it is. It must be. It's like an elderly person's (or my) dreamland. Second hand shops as far as the eye can see! Stores full of second hand clothes and music and books! What's better than that? In all seriousness few things excite me more when I'm out shopping or roaming around a new town than stumbling upon an Oxfam shop.

 In Preston it seems like every street has a charity shop on it. And yes, they have an Oxfam. I found a sweet copy of Waylon Jennings greatest hits in there. And books! Oh the books. I'd even discovered whilst researching Preston charity shops online before my trip(yes, I do that) that Preston had an Oxfam Vintage shop. For anyone unfamiliar with Oxfam that's where they send all the really sweet second hand clothes. Manchester has a great Oxfam Vintage shop in the Northern Quarter.

Anyway, so it was that I walked off the train in Preston excited about a rare visit to an Oxfam Vintage shop, and so after completing my business I walked to the street where the shop was supposed to be, and walked up it and down it, back and forth for an hour. I could not find it. I could only assume it had closed at some point. Or it was somehow invisible to my Canadian eyes. I was disappointed but the variety and quantity of other charity shops helped dull the pain. During my searching I found a copy of Grinderman 2 in a British Heart Foundation. A copy of Rounds by Fourtet in a small local charity shop.

I also stumbled on a great record shop called Action Records and bought a copy of Dr John's Gumbo for a fiver. For high quality second hand music it was a good day. Oh and I also passed my Life in the UK test. I guess that's of some consequence, too. Shortly after passing my test, I was walking around trying to find Preston's fabled Oxfam Vintage and stumbled accidentally on Coco's Soul Food. I knew immediately it would be wonderful because when it comes to food I'm good like that. I got a Smokey Barbecue Caribbean Chicken Burger and Fries, and yes, it was a majestic celebration meal. I took some picture's to remember it by:

I also found a copy of It Might As Well Be Swing by Frank Sinatra and Count Basie at the Scope charity shop here in town. 

Oh and I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying the newest series of Treme. I don't think a better show has been made about community and music. It's uplifting and heartbreaking and just a whole lotta fun to watch. David Simon's importance to American television and American culture in general cannot be overestimated. No one else is as obsessed with showing you the absolute truth as he is. Treme is an incredible celebration of the great city of New Orleans and a scathing critique of how badly it has been mistreated during and post Katrina.

On a final note I'm going to see Paranormal Activity 3 tonight with my wife, and my brother in law and his wife. So, yeah, there goes sleeping peacefully for the next two or three days. It's gonna be great.

Compulsions and late night rambling...

I treat all the animals I pass while out in the world as companions. I think I weird out various neighbours and strangers frequently while doing so. But I can't help it. It's a compulsion. I can only apologise in advance if it ever happens to you.

I'm listening to the song Nightcall by Kavinsky right now. It's really good. I downloaded it from Emusic years ago and recently heard it in the film Drive. Now it conjures up images of Los Angeles at night, and neon and muscle cars and Ryan Gosling. That last part probably sounds a little gay but it's not. Not completely.

I also recently watched Warrior. Tom Hardy is in it, and Joel Edgerton. Edgerton was in the superb Australian crime film Animal Kingdom, and was also Uncle Owen in The Phantom Menace. Nick Nolte was also in Warrior. That dude is the real deal. You should see the film, it's pretty great.

I was just watching this Greek film Dogtooth. It's a weird weird film, but oddly captivating. Well at least it was until one character attacked a cat with a pair of garden sheers. The film is about parents who are raising their three teenage children in a strangely isolated environment.

I've been thinking a lot recently about the idea everything is one single moment. That there is no past or future. That everything happens in one stretched out moment. Sometimes it feels like I could close my eyes, open them again and I'd be an old man. Sat on the couch. I could open them and I'd be ten years old again playing in the snow. I could open them up and I'd be stood outside Flinders Station. I feel like these moments, all the moments that make up my life are separated by a membrane thinner than paper. That is only growing thinner. This idea kind of fascinates me but mostly it terrifies me. I don't know if you know what I mean.

I've been working on this radio show with two friends of mine. It's been reinvigorating for me creatively. For a while it had felt like my brain was shutting down. I'd sort of stopped thinking. Now I'm trying to think up creative themes and idea's for the show. It's been challenging. My brain has not been overwhelming me with original idea's. It's a little scary and more than a little difficult to be creative when you are seemingly incapable of original thought. Still I'm making this sound weirdly negative. It isn't. It's been a blast. We're going into my friends studio to record episode five this week, and we've just extended the running time for each episode from one to two hours. It feels good having to think again. The station should hopefully be up and running soon-ish. I believe there will be a trial run of some sort first.

I did one of those Mojo-esque music questionnaire things for the local paper the other week. The feature is called Pet Sounds. It included a god awful photo of me and in the piece I used the word veracious. What an asshole. That's what I probably would have thought if I was a stranger reading the paper at home. I don't believe I've ever used the word veracious in real life, but I couldn't resist the urge to be a little bit of a pompous dick. It's fun.

If I had to put it down to one thing, I'd probably say the main reason I love cats is because they're jerks.

Am I the only one who finds the theme song for QI with Stephen Fry a little emotional?

I've been listening to Incesticide by Nirvana whilst writing most of this. It's been a long time since I've listened to that album because my physical copy is in Canada and for some reason I forgot to add it to my hard drive before I left but I just found it on Spotify. Hairspray Queen never gets any less goddamn amazing. Jesus I love this record.

Oh and I just watched the trailer for Paranormal Activity 3. It freaked me out. I'm a real sucker for those films. The first one got in my head and stayed there for days. I still don't look at attic doors in the same way. And even though the rational side of my brain understands how gimmicky and artificial those films are, the irrational(and dominate) side of my brain does not.  The irrational side of my brain is desperate to suspend it's disbelief for two hours. It's fun.

I discussed Paranormal Activity with my friend recently. We were visiting him and his lovely family in Ireland and he showed me a sophisticated baby monitor he had purchased. It had a little video camera on it that recorded the crib. So you could watch and listen to your baby from the comfort of your living room. The little screen on his mantel displayed a small slightly grainy greenish night vision view of his little girl asleep. I asked him if he'd seen Paranormal Activity? He said no. I said he wouldn't look at that baby monitor in the same way ever again if he did. Then we had a completely unrelated discussion about Catholicism that kept us up far longer than we had anticipated. That was a good trip. He has a little girl who could power the universe with her joy and infectious enthusiasm.


Finally, it's late and I'm tired. Well, I'm tired now but I'll still lay awake in bed in the dark for a fucking hour.

Oh before I do go a big Happy Thanksgiving to everyone back home. I cooked my first Thanksgiving dinner ever to celebrate. Never has a chicken been butchered so badly with a carving knife. It was delicious though. I cooked chicken because turkey wasn't available. Tomorrow I'm making chicken soup. It's going to be monumental.

Anyway, good night.

The inevitable end...

Ten years ago...

Ten years ago today I was in the middle of the Toronto International Film Festival. I had the festival pass that gave me tickets to watch fifty films in ten days. Five films a day. My first film would be around 9am and the last would play at midnight. I'd race to catch the last subway at 2am, and would be up and out by 8am. Stand in line....watch a film...stand in line...watch a film...it was magnificent.

Saturday September 11th I woke up around 7:30am feeling like a zombie but excited about the sixth day of the festival. I rode the subway down to Yonge and Bloor, most likely stopped for a coffee from a Second Cup and walked the two or three blocks to the Manulife Centre at Bay and Bloor. I took my place in line and soaked up the atmosphere. It was clear and warm, the sky was bright blue and everywhere you looked people talked about movies.

Eventually the line started moving and we made our way into the Varsity Cinema. The lobby was alive. Line ups veered off in all directions. Volunteers answered questions. Movie fans and industry types waited patiently. We made our way into the theatre and our seats. Today I was about to watch World Traveller A film by Bart Freundlich starring Billy Crudup, Julianne Moore and Liane Baliban. A story about a family man who on one random day leaves his family and goes on a personal odyssey across the country. As the theatre filled up, people ate breakfast, drank coffee and water and talked about the films they had watched the day before.

I went to all the festival films alone back then (I didn't know anyone else interested in watching five films a day for ten days straight) so I sat and watched people. I was very very content. Just before the lights went down a member of staff walked up to the front of the theatre and said there were reports of an incident in America. That further details would be available later. And to enjoy the film. People looked curiously at one another as the cinema grew dark and the screen lit up.

When the film ended and the lights came back on people waited. Often they have special guests(actors, filmmakers, producers) who do a question and answer after films at TIFF. Another member of staff walked up to the front of the cinema again and said there had been an incident in America. That man people were reported injured or dead. To remain calm.

The world outside the theatre was chaos.We walked out of the theatre into the lobby of the Varsity cinema. People moved quickly in all directions. I walked out of the Varsity into the Manulife Centre. There was a constant murmur in the air. Many voices talking at once, worried and confused. Volunteers did their best to answer questions. I was confused. I stood and watched people rushing back and forth. Talking on cell phones. I walked over to a volunteer and asked what had happened. There had been a terrorist attack down in the U.S. Forty thousand people were reported dead. I just looked at him. I headed for the escalator and made my way out of the building onto the sidewalk. People were stood around with strange looks on their faces not knowing what to do. I asked an old guy with a beard what had happened. He said there had been some sort of terrorist attack on New York City. He said his name was Richard and asked if I was okay. We talked for a bit. He was a nice man. One of those mid-sixties, world weary, well educated, funny calming types. He helped me get my head around things a little bit.

I overheard someone mention something about people watching a screen down the street. I walked along Bloor to  the corner of Yonge Street and stopped. All the traffic had stopped. The street and sidewalks were full of people stood looking up, like a scene in a science fiction movie. They were starring at a giant screen. I looked up. The giant screen that normally showed commericals and weather updates and news now displayed a shot of downtown New York city. Smoke poured out of the World Trade Center towers. As I watched, bewildered and unbelieving, a plane entered the frame. It was quiet on the street. No one talked. It was one of the most surreal moments of my life. I was dazed. I watched the screen for a long time, horrified and mesmerized.

I made my way back to the Manulife Center, not really knowing what else to do. I found Richard again and told him what I saw. He had seen it too. I don't remember specifically what we talked about then but I know it was big existential tragedy of life type stuff. He was trying to get in touch with his son down in America and I decided I had to get in touch with my family. I found a payphone(I didn't own a cellphone) and called my mom. It became even weirder once I was talking to someone from my own reality, someone familiar. It felt completely inconceivable that this was happening in the mundane world I lived in every day. It was too big of an event.

I walked to the subway and waited on the crowded platform for the next train. The ride home was silent. No one seemed to have anything to say to anybody. I got back to my apartment and sat on the couch. It seemed even more surreal watching it on normal television in my living room. Hearing newscasters reporting all the details. Watching the terrible footage over and over. I called my friend Steven and woke him up. He'd slept through it all. Have you seen the news I asked? No. Put on your television. Why? What happened?

I put my memories of this day in the same folder in my head as my memories of our car crash or our near drowning in Byron Bay. Visceral, and brutally real.  Memories where you are unselfconsciously aware of your own mortality. Memories where you feel oddly alive and aware of being a part of something larger. A part of the collective group that makes up humanity, and this terrible tragic world in which we live.

Shaking off the dust...

I was watching a program tonight, one of those comedy panel shows that are so popular on UK television. David Mitchell was on it and at one point the host did something funny and David Mitchell laughed, not polite normal tv laughter, but proper real furious belly laughter. He laughed so hard he temporarily dropped his guard. He was almost in between laughing and screaming. It was only a little moment.

I'm working on a radio show with my friend and another friend. I should have said I'm working on a radio show with two friends or some friends. That would have made more sense. I don't know why I didn't. Oh well, too late now. So yeah, we've already recorded one show. I think it went okay. It had a nice feel to it. Like sitting in front of a fireplace. Or around a picnic table in a friends backyard in the summer. We played good music, too. I'm going back in this week to record a few more episodes. We're pre-recording them so they can just be inserted into the schedule when the station officially launches. I've always wanted to do a radio show. For a very long time. It's exciting that the opportunity has finally revealed itself to me. Very exciting. I've had trouble sleeping some nights because of it. My mind sometimes won't shut up thinking of idea's. Laying in the dark running through things I might say and talk about. Songs I might play. Themes. It's been a reinvigorating experience so far.

I've also been doing some writing for the local paper. Not real writing, but writing nonetheless. I've written a few reviews, and just recently wrote a few preview articles. I also got a chance to do one of those Mojo magazine type things where they ask you a set of questions about the first album you ever bought, etc, etc. Not the actual Mojo one. One similar to it that the local paper does called Pet Sounds. It was fun, though. They took my picture for it. I look like I'm made out of playdoh. It's disgusting. But oh well.

These recent opportunities have helped me realize all over again, the importance of being pro-active. I have a couple of new stories started, a weird idea for a play, and I'm recommitted to getting my camera back out and snapping pictures. Lots of pictures. I've started running a bit too, and I'm eating better. I was beginning to atrophy and am now making strong moves to get things going, to reverse the effects. It's impossible to overstate the importance of creativity in your everyday life.


I've been missing Canada and my family a lot lately. It's no coincidence these feelings have increased in the first two weeks of September, while the Toronto International Film Festival is in full swing. The festival and Midnight Madness in particular makes me think of the great city of Toronto and everything I love about it. The two things will always be inextricably intertwined. It's ten years this month since the attacks on the World Trade Center. That will always be connected to TIFF for me, too. I was at TIFF, watching a film when the planes were hitting the towers. Sat in a cinema at the Varsity in the Manulife Center watching a film called World Traveller. The film ended and we all walked out of the theater and into chaos. I understand the importance of remembering but I do feel a bit uncomfortable with the way some parts of the media have been handling the upcoming anniversary.  But it's way too late and I'm way too tired to get into all of that.

Anyway, hope all you lovely people are well. More on my radio show, Alternative Revelations, to come.

(here's a photo of Clint and Clyde to cheer you up.)

Channel Surfing...

I often enjoy watching the Russian news channel Russia Today. The network has a surprisingly refreshing slant on world events, particularly those involving America. When big news stories occur, like the current financial crisis afflicting America, you get a fairly honest view of things. Free of the usual spin you get on other channels. Sometimes you just get weirdly aggressive newscasters saying weirdly aggressive things in strange exaggerated American accents. Plus the set designs and graphics make the channel look like a news station from some alternate universe. Some future that was never realized. Either way it makes for oddly enthralling viewing.

     I was flicking through channels a minute ago and pressed to read the information on a show called Hitler's Children on Discovery History. The synopsis read like this:

Seduction: Hitler moulded German children into an army which would fight in his name to conquer the world. Former participants tell of the unscrupulous methods of indoctrination.

Not being in the mood for such light hearted viewing I flicked on and put on Russia Today, the Russian news channel. They were listing off the days top news stories when a headline popped up quickly. I looked at it and  read Russia declares war on Jews. My eyes widened, then I saw that the words were superimposed over a photo of a great white shark and I realized it actually said Russia declares war on Jaws. I breathed an audible sigh of relief. For a very brief second I was pretty freaked out. You know, especially so soon after I read that Hitler's Children thing. It was a weird few minutes of television.
      That got weirder.
      A debate show called the Keiser Report started on Russia Today soon after. The host is a very intense guy who reminds me vaguely of Oliver Stone. His guest tonight was an American girl who still oddly put on a weirdly exaggerated American accent. She seemed very excited to be on the show. The overall feel of the show is a little bit community television. They started discussing the financial crisis in America and showed a clip of a journalist for the New York Times saying basically that if an alien invasion were imminent that the financial crisis would be solved in a few days. Which, yeah, is a weird argument to hear from a New York Times journalist. The host of the Keiser Report and the American girl then began discussing alien invasions and the financial crisis, and the fact that apparently all it will take to stimulate the American economy is an invasion of beings from outer space.
      For roughly twenty minutes it was like watching television in the twilight zone.

So I'm reading The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammett and it's blowing my mind. It was written in 1932 and reads like it was written with a sharp knife. Hammett is recognized as one of the masters of hard-boiled detective fiction, and when I started reading The Thin Man I half expected it to be a bit heavy handed and cliched. But the writing is so precise. The story so well realized. It's set in New York City. I've been obsessed with old film noir movies set in New York for ages. Pictures like The Naked City and Blast of Silence. The cinematography is beautiful and fascinating. Hammett's book reads like those films, New York is a vital character, and you can almost smell the city. Taste the air. Feel the sidewalk under your feet. But the book, being a book and as such superior to films, offers you so much more. The interaction between the male and female characters is fascinating. I don't know, maybe I have just been incredibly naive to the hard-boiled detective novels of that era but The Thin Man is a very satisfying reading experience.

 I also just watched Super. The second film by James Gunn, the man responsible for the comic horror gem Slither. It's the latest in the relatively new genre of realistic superhero films. It has had many comparisons to Kick Ass, but I don't think the comparisons do either film much justice. They are very different viewing experiences. I don't want to say too much, I think Super should be seen fresh. It stars Rain Wilson from the American version of the Office and Ellen Page. And Ellen Page is a revelation. A awesomely mental revelation. It also stars Kevin Bacon, Liv Tyler and Nathan Fillion. If your into horror films I highly recommend Slither too. I watched it sort of by accident on tv, expecting nothing if I'm being honest, and I loved it. It is strange, funny, and wonderfully crazy.

Oh and I was checking out a link a friend forwarded to me the other day. It was to a pretty amazing website called How to be a retronaut. The link was to graduation pictures of famous people. It was really funny. But this one of the great George Clooney still weirds me out.

A video message from Mr Tom Waits...

For a while now Tom Waits has been hinting at some new developments. He told those who care about such things to check in at his website today at a specific time. This is what he had to say, in typical fantastic Tom Waits fashion...

(if the rest of popular culture is a small man throwing a bucket of waste over you, Tom Waits is a large guy with a sledge hammer and a smile)

Fake anarchists and TV sitcoms...

It's been another heavy week as our dying planet hurtles towards apocalypse at a nauseating velocity.

Children rioting in the streets of our cities, stealing and destroying under the false pretense of social injustice. If the looters bullshit were to be believed it would surely mark the first time anarchists paused in the middle of their revolution to steal flat screen plasma televisions and sneakers.

People sat in front of their televisions at home got to watch, over and over and over again, incredibly sad and infuriating video footage of a group of people pretending to help an injured boy up off the ground before robbing him and leaving him confused and scared. We saw images of a woman having to jump for her life from the second story of a burning building. Incredibly enlightening footage of a Sky News reporter asking a boy in a balaclava why he and his friends were taking part in these riots. The boy responding with "It's fun,innit? We get drunk and do what we want."

On a slightly less important but no less distressing note, the illustrious music publication NME had a photo of British band the Horrors on it's cover along with the highly contentious statement that they were, apparently, Britain's best band. Is it a coincidence this particular issue of the magazine coincided with these terrible riots? I don't know. XL Recordings weren't one of the independent record labels affected by the terrible fire at the Sony distribution center in Enfield, so probably not.

Incidently here's a link to a list of all the independent record labels badly affected by the burning down of the Sony Distribution in Enfield Monday night. Go out and buy some music from any of these labels and help support a vital industry, and good record labels now seriously under threat.

I watched a news update the other night that discussed the courts in London and how they were staying open all night to process all those charged with crimes perpetrated during the riots. They displayed photos of individual looters caught on CCTV camera's. One of the people charged with stealing was a male teaching assistant at an elementary school. The man even had his photo on the schools website homepage where he was listed as a mentor for the children. I tell you, you can't write this stuff.

I have to say though, by this point I was exhausted with the rolling news stories, emphasising what a terrible society we have nurtured, and at the mention of the courts being open all night all I could think of was the television show Night Court and how much I loved it. A perfect example of a great American situational comedy. I've never seen it available on DVD, and I'm not sure if anybody is even familiar with it here in the UK. But all I could think of was how great it would be to watch it all over again. John Larroquette was my favourite character on the show. Dan Fielding. A legend amongst smarmy, hilarious, over confident, asshole television characters.

I tend to return to situational television comedy when I'm feeling fed up or particularly stressed. I find reassurance in fun, well constructed, cleverly written television shows. It's a hard art to perfect, and once in awhile you stumble on a show that makes it look effortless. I got a bit obsessed a few months ago with re-runs of Martin. I discovered the whole series on YouTube and had forgotten how great it was. Martin Lawrence was an inspired comedic actor back then. And I've been obsessed with The IT Crowd recently.

For some reason it went entirely unknown inside my brain mind that the Graham Linehan who wrote The IT Crowd was the very same Graham Linehan who co-wrote Father Ted. I was a little ashamed of myself when I made that, what in hindsight was painfully obvious, realization. I was obsessed with Father Ted when it first aired in Canada. It is one of the great television shows of our time. I kept watching episodes of The IT Crowd and seven or eight times an episode I'd think jesus this is well written. It's so subtle and smart and well constructed yet so simply funny. So funny it almost seems obvious. I get jealous watching it. I wish I could write something that well.

Then the other day I was in the middle of telling my wife all of this, about how great the IT Crowd was and she went yeah, it's the same guy who wrote Father Ted. I looked at her dumbly. Inside my head I was viciously kicking my brain. I went on the computer and googled Graham Linehan and discovered he also co-wrote series one of Black Books, another of my favourite TV shows. My respect for Graham Linehan kept growing. Father Ted, The IT Crowd, Black Books.
   
Oh and I also just put together a compilation of music songs, a playlist if you will. I've attached it below. I have to send out my apologies to Mr Linehan for stealing the idea directly from his delightful blog. It's such a simple way of posting a music compilation, and I'm such a hopeless pathetic idiot when it comes to that kind of stuff. You know, stuff involving thinking.

You should check out Graham Linehan's blog. It's very clever and funny. Not like the one your currently reading.

So yeah, here's some music...I've cleverly titled the list: "Thematically inconsistent, maybe." (Obviously, any time anybody ever openly refers to something they just did as clever, it almost always isn't.) Enjoy!

Listen to it here.

Another week in music...rhythm and noise...

No matter how often it happens it's always a tiny bit unnerving when your downstairs in the kitchen and the bedroom door slams shut upstairs. You know it's just a draft but that never stops it from feeling a tad strange. Especially when it's raining outside, your neighbour is screaming at her children through the walls, your wired on too much coffee, and frustrated by the state of things.
       It's been another week full of all kinds of news. As most weeks are. Obviously the world news has been considerably bleaker this week. The tragic events in Norway were devastating as they unfolded on television over the weekend. I don't think anyone expected it to turn out as horrifying as it did when they woke up Saturday morning.
       We went to see an Amy Winehouse tribute act Friday night and woke up Saturday to find out the real singer had died. The same media that spent the last four or five years ridiculing her and systematically tearing her name to pieces changed their tone instantly to gut wrenching sincerity and heartbreak at the tragic loss of a truly special talent. Individual people have been guilty of this too. People who viciously attacked her character for years now express their sadness at such a tragic loss of talent at such a young age. It is indeed a sad story. Back In Black was and is a fantastic record and the work of a uniquely and undeniably talented artist. I just found the hypocrisy in certain responses to the story a bit hard to swallow.
       Fortunately it's been a great week for friends and family. Celebrating new arrivals, beginning brand new journeys around the globe, making a long overdue return home. Lots of positive events happening to a lot of great people that mean everything to me. It warms my heart to hear it.
       For myself there are a few possible creative opportunities coming down the pipeline. Nothing monumental but interesting and a little exciting all the same.
      Oh and of course in the midst of all these events occurring around the globe, both tragic and wonderful, I have been listening to a lot of music. All styles and genres. Songs to match any mood. Music that forms the never ending soundtrack to my life in all it's mundane glory.
       As usual over the last week or so a handful of songs stood out. Well, a handful and a bit really. Seven, once again being the lucky number.
   
        We start once again at the beginning. I'd discovered this record while working at the illustrious Refried Beats on Yonge Street in beautiful downtown Toronto. But had sort of forgotten about it recently. Then the other day this song Science Killer came on my headphones like this sludgy rhythmic nightmare, filled my head up with euphoria and pummelled my brain into mush. I just kept turning the volume up and smiling like an asshole. The band responsible for this piece of magnificence are called The Black Angels. A psych rock band from Austin, Texas. The song can be found on their fantastic album Directions to see a Ghost.

        It's no secret I'm a huge fan of the blues. A big moment in my musical education was being introduced to the Chess label and it's unequalled stable of artists. The other day this beautiful song by Jimmy Witherspoon called Ain't Nobody's Business really stuck in my head. A mellow number about a guy contemplating breakfast and shooting his woman. Witherspoons voice is effortless and haunting. The subtle bass and piano carrying you along as his story unfolds.

       Sticking with the blues theme but adding a serious goddamn dose of psychedelia is the one and only Muddy Waters. The song is Tom Cat from his wonderfully titled 1968 album Electric Mud. A Hendrix-esque mix of blues, funk, and psychedelia, that must have ruffled the feathers of many a blues purist when it was released. Nonetheless the album was a massive influence on psychedelic bands of that time. The song is a beast that showcases the raw attitude present in all of Muddy Waters music. For me not many artists come close to the power of Muddy's music. Muddy was a baaaaad man and everyone needs to know it.

       I listen to Sonic Youth every week. My appetite never wanes. The band are true music pioneers. I got into their music fairly late when I found a cassette copy of their 1994 album Experimental Jet Set, Trash and No Star. Controversially the album is probably still my favourite Sonic Youth record, not necessarily because it's their best or most important, but I guess because of how it made me feel when I first listened to it. I felt like I'd just discovered alternative music. I didn't know a band could sound like that. I fell in love with them instantly. The intensity in the combination of Kim Deals vocals and Thurston Moore's guitar playing really affected me. You know when people say stuff like who needs drugs when you have music? Well that's how Sonic Youth made me feel. that's how they still make me feel. The song that came on my headphones this week wasn't from Jet Set trash though. We have to go all the way back to 1983 for this song, and the bands first studio album Confusion Is Sex/Kill Yr Idols. That early Sonic Youth sound is a world away from Jet Set. The song I'm talking about in particular is Kill Yr Idols. A ferocious two minutes of defiance and disgust. The recording is minimalist, raw and fucking perfect. But the video link I posted the song to on here isn't from the album. It's from a live show from 1985. Recorded in a small club in Brighton, England it captures the band in all their beauty. Oh to have been in that crowd.

       Funny enough the next song that caught my attention this week was a cover of a Sonic Youth song by another of the truly great rock bands of the last 25 years, Seattle's mighty Mudhoney. The song is Halloween and was featured on a split single Sonic Youth and Mudhoney released together in 1988. Mudhoney covered Halloween and Sonic Youth covered Touch me I'm Sick. The song is also featured on the deluxe edition of their seminal album Superfuzz Bigmuff.  There are few sounds more grin inducing than the production on Mudhoneys early recordings, and Halloween is no exception, featuring one of my favourite guitar riffs ever. It's a serious undertaking covering a Sonic Youth song, but I think somehow Mudhoney improved on it. The track is drenched in all that wonderful Mudhoney defiance and anger and sounds magnificent.

       We take a sharp turn away from alternative rock for the penultimate song of this past week and head to New York circa 1994 for a slice of hip hop bliss. I've been fairly obsessed with Gang Starr for a few years now. Dazzled by Guru's smooth rumbling vocals and Premier's superb understated jazz breaks and samples. This week I was passing through a park when Mostly Tha Voice came on from Gang Starr's fantastic fourth album Hard To Earn. Guru tells wannabe rappers how it is over another sweet Premier beat. Few hip hop duos made it sound as easy as Gang Starr, and the hip hop world lost a true legend when Guru passed away last year. Gang Starr are one of my main go to groups when I want to chill.

       Finally fans of mid 90's hip hop will probably recognize the opening few seconds of this last song. A driving funk track from 1967 called The Sad Chicken, recorded by Leroy & the Drivers. A serious song for walking and a mean way to start a night. I have lot 60's/70's funk and soul compilations on my itunes so periodically and randomly during my day I'll get slapped hard with a solid piece of funk like this.

   


 

Partially confused ramblings on a Friday afternoon...and the song of the day...

I'm not a music expert. I don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of albums, bands and singles.  I'm not really an asset to have on your team during a pub quiz. I know people like that and I've met plenty of people like that. They could tell you about West German vinyl pressings of Beatles albums, and which Stones pressings have the superior sound quality. They can name songs with a word or two from the most obscure song lyrics.
       I struggle to remember song lyrics. I don't know much about obscure vinyl pressings. I can't discuss the structure of music, of songs, in any kind of technical terminology, and I don't really play any instruments. I was gonna say I'm not an aficionado but then I looked up the definition of the word in the dictionary. Aficionado: A person who is very knowledgeable and enthusiastic about an activity, subject or pastime.
      So maybe you could say I was an aficionado. Though I'd prefer you didn't. Labels make me cringe. What kind of an asshole actually gives himself a label like that anyway?
      Problem is everything I know is based on what I like. And there's not really any rhyme or reason to what I like. I like what sounds good to me. It's all very personal, and largely related to my own individual experiences. For instance right now I'm seriously digging Mitch Ryder and Holly Golightly. Why? I don't know, I stumbled upon them again and their music matches my mood.
      I do have the enthusiasm nailed though. I know what I like and I'm enthusiastic about what I like. I guess that's the short and sweet of it. If I'm sat with you and a really great song comes on, I'm really good at obnoxiously telling you how great the song is. In simple blanket terms. If you asked me why the song is so good? I'd say something like what do you mean? Listen to that fucking guitar! Not terribly insightful, I know. An expert would explain something about what key the guitarist is playing in. Or point out a clever chord change or something along those lines.
      All I'm good at is pointing out music that interests me, and relating what it means to me. In emotional terms not technical terms. I love Pink Floyd's album Meddle because of how it feels, and how it makes me feel.
     I don't know, I'm probably being stupidly, embarrassingly obvious here. What can I say, I sat down needing to write something on here and this is what came out.
     Music affects and excites me on a primitive level. All genres, all eras. As long as there's truth in it.
     Take Joel Plaskett for instance. I'm listening to him right now. His album La Di Da. The real strength in Joel's music, of which there are many, is his voice. His voice is genuine. True.
   
      Anyway, here's my song of the day for this uncertain Friday afternoon...enjoy...

   
   

The Show That Never Was...

You know, I once had tickets, a strip of seven or eight tickets, to a show named The Rhyme and Reason Tour. It was the summer of 1999. I don't believe I've ever been more excited buying concert tickets than I was the day I bought those tickets. The show was to take place at Molson Park in Barrie, Ontario, and the line up was as follows: Co-headlining were the Beastie Boys and Rage Against The Machine. The other artists on the bill were Busta Rhymes, At The Drive In, a hip hop group called Jurassic 5 and a little known band, led by a man named Josh Homme, called Queens of the Stone Age.
       I think this needs a little context. In the year of our lord, 1999, QOTSA hadn't even released Rated R. That album wouldn't be released until 2000. And Songs For The Deaf wouldn't be released til 2002. Jurassic 5 had only released their relatively unknown self-titled album. Quality Control wouldn't be released til 2000. Similarly At The Drive In hadn't released their seminal album Relationship Of Command. An album that funnily enough would also be released in 2000. In 1999 Busta Rhymes was still a relevant and very exciting hip hop artist, having just released in the few years prior, his critically acclaimed albums When Disaster Strikes and E.L.E(Extinction Level Event): The Final World Front.
      The Beasties had just released Hello Nasty, the disco funk breakbeat extravaganza that still holds a special place in my heart and record collection, and as for Rage Against The Machine, they had just released Battle of Los Angeles. A record that might not stand up against the first two RATM albums, but a record that packed a mean punch and a lot of great tunes all the same.
      At the time I was primarily excited about the prospect of witnessing two of my all time favourite bands share a stage under the expansive skies at Molson Park. I spent part of each day in the run up to the show looking at the tickets and talking about the sheer awesomeness that would be. Nowadays I am very familiar with the work of all the bands that were listed below the headliners, and am a huge fan of all three monumental records they released in the millennium year 2000. Imagine! Quality Control, Relationship of Command and Rated R all in one year! Holy jeebus. Imagine a gig where you would witness the Beasties and RATM share a stage, and see Queens, J-5, Busta Rhymes and At The Drive In in their absolute prime.
       Now picture Mike D. Riding his low rider bicycle through the streets of bustling downtown Manhattan. Picture Mike D falling off his low rider bicycle on the streets of bustling downtown Manhattan. Picture Mike D breaking his shoulder in the fall and as a consequence having to cancel the much anticipated Rhyme and Reason Tour. Picture me in the moments and days after hearing of this news, staring despondently at a long string of concert tickets.
      Unfortunately the tour never got back on it's feet again. And RATM broke up the following year. Fortunately the Beastie Boys had played Molson park the previous year. August 15th, 1998 to be exact. Tribe Called Quest were supposed to open for them at that gig, but get this, broke up just before the gig. But once again, all was not lost. The Diabolical Biz Markie opened in their place. Playing a selection of records, including a improvised and hilarious version of Just A Friend, that included the verses "You, you got a hair weave! But you say it's your real hair, yeah, you say it's your real hair." And "You, you got a disease, but you say it's just a rash, yeah, you say it's just a rash."
     We waited in the sun for six hours outside the gates of the main stage that day. Without much water. When the guy finally opened the gate, one single unfortunate skinny man, they were flung open and 20,000 fanatical Beastie Boy fans ran for the front of the stage like a marauding army looking for women and children. People fell, and people leaped over the fallen. My friends and I got a spot dead center in front of the stage, roughly fifty people from the front. And it was the worst crowd I've ever been in. Thousands of people surging forward, wave after wave. Drunk Americans pouring beer on girls heads. A girl next to me, panicking from the push of the crowd, was literally crouched down by my feet, crying. I had a bottle of ice tea in my back pocket and when we finally got pulled out of the crowd just before the Beasties came on it was hot to the touch.
      But we got a good view from the side and the Beastie Boys took the stage and destroyed the place. Mix Master Mike opened with a scratch mix of the intro to Tom Sawyer by Rush. The Biz Markie came on stage toward the end and sang Benny and the Jets. Mike D even got the crowd to make a tunnel and started a soul train. I remember I was suffering pretty bad from being in the sun all day, and every time I jumped up my head pounded. Still, it was a great great show. My one and only live Beastie Boys experience.
      Funny enough, just a minute ago whilst searching the interweb, I found the actual setlist from that show thirteen years ago. Here it is, in all it's magnificence:

1. 1. Mix Master Mike Intro
2. 2. The Biz Vs. The Nuge
3. 3. Super Disco Breakin'
4. 4. Sure Shot
5. 5. Skills To Pay The Bills
6. 6. Putting Shame In Your Game
7. 7. Time To Get Ill
8. 8. Sabrosa
9. 9. Tough Guy
10. 10. Transit Cop
11. 11. Remote Control
12. 12. The Move
13. 13. Flute Loop
14. 14. Egg Man
15. 15. Slow And Low
16. 16. Three Mc's And One Dj
17. 17. Ricky's Theme
18. 18. Song For The Man
19. 19. Time For Livin'
20. 20. Soba Violence
21. 21. Root Down
22. 22. Body Movin'
23. 23. Paul Revere
24. 24. Shake Your Rump
25. 25. Something's Got To Give
26. 26. Gratitude
27. 27. Heart Attack Man
28. 28. Benny And The Jets
29. 29. Do It
30. 30. So What'Cha Want
31. 31. Intergalactic
32. 32. Lighten Up
33. 33. Sabotage

The audience actually sang Paul Revere. That was a good moment. 

      I still have the ticket stubs to that Beastie Boys show hidden in a box somewhere, alongside the tickets for the Rhyme and Reason Tour. The show that wasn't meant to be. Just so you know, I've watched it in my head and in my dreams and it was glorious.

Seven Songs...

It's Friday again(as I'm writing this), another week over. Another one of those up and down weeks full of good and bad and Brie and Salami sandwiches and music and thank Christ, sunshine. Lots of sunshine. I'm rocking a serious sandal/t shirt tan. I was in the park yesterday during my lunch break, eating a sandwich, listening to music, and saw two young topless deviants, known as chavs round these parts, drinking cider and wrestling by the hedges. It was a very homoerotic, violent Larry Clark meets George Michael meets Ken Loach type scene. Not my preferred choice of sunshine/sandwich/music/relaxing in the park entertainment. Around these parts the sunshine seems to bring the scum out like rain to worms.

Anyway, over the last week I listened to a lot of music, and particular songs stuck in my brain more than others, as particular songs have a habit of doing. Roughly seven, this time around. A song for each of the last seven days! If you wanted you could put all seven songs together in order, you know, fashion a playlist. You could give it a clever name and walk around your town picturing some fictional phantasmic week that was and never was. A week full of sandwiches and goblins and sunshine and deviants and beauty and disappointment and dogs and vampires.

We start the week at the beginning, with a cover of the Godfather Theme song by Jesus Acosta and the Professionals. A seriously heavy seriously soulful seriously dirty rendition of the iconic theme. With a killer distorted guitar riff and a organ line that sounds like it's coming from deep inside your brain. It's just the kind of late 60's/early 70's world music funk I love stumbling across. The song can be found on the wonderful compilation Cult Cargo: Belize City Boil Up, that I really couldn't recommend enough. Any volume of the Cult Cargo series is a gold mine worth owning, but Belize City especially.

Song two, Tuesdays song, is one minute of aggression from Los Angeles' volatile girl punk band Mika Miko. Now tragically disbanded. The song is End of Time from the band's Kill Rock Star's label debut C.Y.S.L.A.B.F. The girls in the band always claimed they were best appreciated live. Additionally they also make for great park walking music. If you were so inclined and had the appropriate headphones, ideally ear buds, you could do some tumbles in the grass. Maybe punch a tree. Or the air. Or a hippy.

Next is a sublime track from a soundtrack Mile Davis recorded for a French film called Ascenseur pour l'echafaud(Lift to the scoffold). The song is called L'Assassinat De Carala. I've never seen the film and in many ways am glad for that fact. The album is the very epitome of film noir. Of 50's jazz cool. And I prefer not having any associations with the film. I want to keep it as a soundtrack to my own life. The record is drenched in atmosphere. A beautiful, sinister, melancholy timeless soundtrack. It's serious, deeply affecting music, quite separate from the rest of Davis' output around this time in the late fifties to early sixties. It doesn't fit in with his earlier bebop material or his later Kind of Blue period or his ambitious and infinitely more challenging Electric material. I'm not sure how the album sits with serious Mile Davis fans, but it's one of my favourites. Simple, elegant and moving.

The next song came on my ipod when I was in Whitby with my wife. It immediately latched onto my feet and arms, making me move them in outlandish frantic weird movements. I started laughing, going oh yeah. Feel that. And other such ridiculous statements. I assumed it was something from the seventies. Something I'd managed to avoid somehow all my life. When I got home and turned on the computer, I found out the song was called Last Bongo In Brighton(Remix) by the very contemporary, very hip hop,very English DJ Format. From his debut album Music For The Mature B-Boy. Format specializes in big beats and 70's funk breaks and anyone who likes good hip hop will dig his music.

Tom Waits appears on my ipod frequently. Over the last seven days a song from his essential album Rain Dogs played several times. Rain Dogs is the middle album of a trilogy book ended by Swordfishtrombones and Frank's Wild Year's. Coincidentally it is also the first album I ever owned by Tom Waits. I bought it from the Goodwill store in Toronto, at Coxwell and Gerrard to be specific, when I was about seventeen. Vaguely familiar with Waits at the time I was sold on the intriguing album sleeve and subsequently confused, challenged, and amazed by the music on the vinyl record. I'd never heard music like it, and hadn't even been aware you could make music like that. It sounded like carnival music from a nightmare. The song Gun Street Girl appears towards the end of the record. One of the more straight forward acoustic numbers. I'd sort of forgotten about it till this week. It's a barnstormer. A fearsome piece of songwriting. That quite frankly leaves me stunned.

The hypothetical Saturday song in this fictional musical week, loosely based on my actual real life listening experiences over the past seven days comes courtesy of The Nazz. A band I got into over the last few years, they have a straight forward satisfying psych rock sound, and were formed by Todd Rungren. The song I listened to this week is called Crowded from the band's 1968 self titled record Nazz

Our final song, Sunday's song, the song for that wonderful day of rest belongs to Mr Johnny Cash. From his album Now, There Was a Song! released in 1960. The song is the rollicking I Feel Better All Over. It was actually penned by the gambler himself, Mr Kenny Rogers. A song tailor made for Sunday drives, or Sunday mornings dancing with your girl or Sunday afternoons drinking in the backyard. The music industry did it's best during the last seven or eight years to over saturate the market with Johnny Cash, and as such I had to take a step back for a short while. But his music will never die and Cash will always be in my heart, just as he should always be in yours.

Three songs, walking back from town...

I have an ipod shuffle, borrowed from a good friend of mine, after my beloved 80 gig classic died tragically over a year ago. It was an enlightening experience when I brought the dead ipod into the Apple shop and the dude said "oh yeah, ipods generally have a three year life expectancy. There's not much we can do for this one, but we can offer you ten percent off a brand new one."  Ten percent! Ah jeez, now I'm blushing. I can tell from the sincere tone of your voice you only make that offer to your most select clientèle. And I can tell from your personal approach and casual unassuming demeanor that I'm not only a customer but a friend, too.

Coincidentally, this was right around the time I began to think just maybe there might be something to the charge I-Pods are more style than substance. Anyway, this is all besides the point. I no longer have a fancy 80 gig classic, I have a shuffle. Which makes for a much different listening experience. A few times a week I load up a random selection of music, around 175 songs at a time. And because Shuffles have no display, and I don't have the new fancy one with the voice song identifier thing on it, I'm often not sure what I'm listening to. For a longtime I just put all the hip hop on my itunes on shuffle, hitting the shuffle button roughly 33 times for some reason, and chose the first 200 songs. Yesterday though, I put my whole itunes on shuffle, well I had to use that itunes dj thing, and I have to say if it was actually left in charge of a party, it would be responsible for a pretty cerebral, unorthodox, unpopular dance party. The majority of attendee's would not be happy. It always throws on a lot of random world music/jazz type horn and percussion, mixed with a lot of Brian Eno, old country and Autechre. I'd still dance to it, but I guess it is music from my itunes, plus I'm pretty weird.

Anyway, I was walking back from town today, badly bearded, in my brogues, with my eggs and milk, you know, like I do, and three songs especially caught my attention. Unexpectedly, even. The first was Everywhere from Fleetwood Mac's fourteenth album Tango In The Night. A song a lot of people would probably expect I enjoyed out of some kind of irony. Surprisingly though, this wasn't the case. It popped on my headphones just as the rain clouds were clearing up and raised my spirits with unusual sincerity. Especially unusual for a cynical man such as myself. What can I say I just got caught up in that ridiculous 1980's Fleetwood Mac vibe. It was fun.




Roughly thirty songs later (I do skip through periodically) after songs from the likes of The Clash, Funkadelic, Jay Crocker, Devo, Bill Cosby, and Invisibil Skratch Piklz, a fantastic song by the legendary Charles Mingus came on called Better Git It In Your Soul. The first track from his iconic album Mingus Ah Um. It starts off beautifully with this great bass line that sounds like Mingus rose up out of the ground, from beneath the studio, as he was playing it. Then it just goes into this huge blissful big band romp. Fun, exhilarating summertime music.





And finally the third song, that came on directly after Mr Charles Mingus, and I have the feeling I might get judged right about here, was You Make Me Feel Like Dancing by Leo Sayer. From his album Endless Flight, an album with a fantastic front sleeve I have to say. Though I think the version I have is from the Charlie's Angel's soundtrack that my cousin Tasha put on itunes ages ago. The vocals on this song are incredible. Superdisco. That I at first mistook for the Bee Gee's. Sayer reaches some serious high notes. The overall feel of the song is almost giddy. And I think my enjoyment of it would have swayed over into irony if it weren't for that genuinely insane bassline/ guitar combination during the versus'. That part blows my mind. Serious disco funk. And again, sunny day, Saturday night music. I guess that's the obvious theme at play here. I guess the mood can't always be life in the ghetto/ironic violence/dark beat/depressing introspection/experimental/soundscape type stuff all the time. Sometimes you just want happy music. As awful as that phrase sounds. And in the end I always feel like dancing. Oh and plus, the video for this song is fucking great. Excuse my french.





I actually had to listen to the Leo Sayer song twice.

Outlaw Music

It's a wonderful thing, music. An endless source of inspiration, and joy. That even after twenty-five years has the power to educate and amaze. I had one of those moments today, when you feel like your really hearing something for the first time. A brand new sound. More and more I  find myself looking back into music, rather than ahead. I think it probably takes time and patience to see past the parameters and dimensions of what popular music and popular music media tell us is good. Quite often we have established prejudices against specific genres of music. We've all been guilty of it at one point or another. I believe more so when we're younger. We see things more clearly as we age.

So for me most of what excites me regarding music exists in the past, and few things are as exciting as those moments when you listen to music and discover that moment was the exact right moment in your life to hear that music. Those moments when you really notice everything about a song. The lyrics, the music, the physicality of the song. When you feel like you could be standing in the recording studio at the moment it was recorded. Lyrics are a big one for me. I'm often guilty of noticing lyrics last. The music has always grabbed my attention first. Tones and melodies, big guitar hooks, especially with hip hop. A big beat, a great sample, a bass line. So when I realize I'm really caught up in some song lyrics I know I'm listening to something important. Not necessarily to anyone else, but important to myself and my personal experiences.

So again, there I was earlier on Spotify. I don't know if you've tried this music service, but it's pretty incredible. I'm a late comer to the site, having spent quite a long time being cynical about the whole idea of having an endless collection of music available to you on a website that you can share with others. I was always worried about it devaluing music, cheapening the listening experience. In fact it is a very useful tool for discovering music, and tasting music before you buy it. Anyway, I was on there earlier looking up Willie Nelson records. Having discovered a great song of his on Youtube. The song was Shotgun Willie and it turns out it's the title track of his 1973 album Shotgun Willie. An album that marked a turning point in his career, that had in Willie's own words "cleared his throat." A classic 1970's record, introspective, with a pared down natural sound. Honest and raw. I grew up hearing the Willie Nelson everyone knows, On The Road Again and all that. This record was different. More like the outlaw country I've been reading about. And it really hit me. It sounds like summer to me. Fresh and invigorating.

Then I moved on to Hank Williams. I've been a fan of his for years but I don't believe a person can ever listen to too much Hank. And I discovered a song I'd never heard before, I Told Lie A To My Heart. A timeless piece of songwriting. Willie Nelson also dueted with Hank on this song on his album Half Nelson.

From Hank I went to Kris Kristofferson. Another man I've always known about, but to whom I'd never really listened. I'd recently had the opportunity to see Taxi Driver in the cinema and in the film Cybil Shepherd's character talks about a Kris Kristofferson record, specifically the song The Pilgrim-Chapter 33. I was intrigued so I put on The Silver Tongued Devil And I and Kristofferson, his first two albums. His voice hit me like a brick. In Hip Hop they say you can tell the real mc's from the frauds, because the real mc speaks from the heart, from personal experience,hip hop is in their blood and you can hear that honesty in his/her voice. Where as the frauds, those that are fronting, are rapping for money. Kristofferson is country. You can hear it in his deep voice. He speaks from hard personal experience. You can almost taste the whiskey. You feel like your looking through a window into the truth of those times back in the late 60's. At Kristofferson and his  friends Johnny and June, Rambling Jack Elliott, Willie Nelson. And it's exhilarating.

So I looked into Rambling Jack Elliott. A folk singer who was close friends with Woody Guthrie, who had a big influence on Woody's son Arlo Guthrie, and a young folk singer named Bob Dylan. I listened to Hard  Travellin'(a reissue of Jack Elliott Sings the Songs of Woody Guthrie and Rambling Jack Elliott). Again I was struck by the voice. He has a relaxed confidant tone. Well travelled. He sort of speaks rather than sings. I discovered a great song of his called East Virginia Blues that's real Sunday morning music. Elliott bridges the gap between folk and country and still records and tours today.

From Ramblin' Jack I went to an icon of Canadian music. One of our nation's most celebrated singer songwriters. Gordon Lightfoot. I grew up with Gordon Lightfoot like every Canadian did. Loving songs like Sundown and The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. The latter one of my favourite songs. When I was younger though I did dismiss his music to an extent as old people music. Largely in part because his music is highly polished and very produced. But last year my wife and I were in Manchester, in the northern quarter, sat in a little cafe/bar called Oddbar having breakfast. Which I highly recommend by the way. I noticed they had a jukebox so I selected a handful of Sunday morning style Canadian influenced tunes from the 70's and 80's, that included Lightfoot's The Wreck... partly out of surprise that I had found it on an English jukebox and partly out of nostalgia for my homeland. Either way, it was a lovely morning, I was eating a delicious breakfast with my lovely wife, and that song started playing and I fell in love with Gordon Lightfoot's music all over again.

On this day though I wanted to taste the songs I wasn't already familiar with. I listened to 1972's Don Quixote, 1974's Sundown, and 1975's Cold On The Shoulder. And I was struck by two songs, Second Cup Of Coffee from Don Quixote, and All the Lovely Ladies from Cold On The Shoulder. Lightfoot's silky voice draws the listener in, his lyrics beguiling. Beneath the sometimes outdated production he is a natural born storyteller

This was an emotionally and aesthetically satisfying listening session and from here I went on to Bobby Womack's album Fly Me To The Moon, The Sonic's album The Savage Young Sonics, Mitch Ryder, Link Wray, R.L Burnside, and Townes Van Zandt. The latter two artists I'd been infatuated with for a long time.

As is usually the case, I hadn't planned on spending so much time listening, which brings me back to the beginning. That's the beauty of music. The ease at which you can lose yourself in it. It's been a while since I listened to such a range of beautiful music. Certainly in one sitting. I still listen to a lot of new music. Although, in the last few years my real obsession has been hip hop. Focused on but not restricted to old school and golden age hip hop. But more and more it's the times I go back to the 1970's and earlier that the music really effects me. Singer songwriter stuff. Blues, Country, Folk, and Rock. Hip Hop effects me, but it's on a visceral level. This stuff, the music I've been talking about here today, it effects me on a personal level. It makes me feel privileged to be experiencing it. It transcends time. Feels like something that has been dug up from deep in the earth. Something invaluable to the preservation of our stories and experiences both as individuals and as a people.

Men like Van Zandt, Nelson, Lightfoot, Williams, are men I admire. True artists and storytellers who live, or lived, the life they sing about. And it's a beautiful moment when you reach that place on your personal life path where this music makes real sense to you. Like the last piece of a puzzle falling into place. And the real wonder to me, is that I know it won't end. I went through it with the blues a longtime ago, I went through it with jazz, and punk and hip hop.

It's a cycle that never stops if you keep an open mind.