America's Oldest Teenager

Dick Clark, long-time host of American Bandstand, has died at the age of 82.

Deborama's WWW Number 24 - Radio 2 "Ask Elvis"

My ride-share driving guy, Jan, and I really look forward to Fridays, when the car radio is switched to BBC Radio 2 in the hope of hearing an installment of "Ask Elvis" on the Steve Wright show. The best size of drill bit to work on lath and plaster? How to find a vegan caterer for your upcoming wedding? Where to buy a caravan in Peterborough? How to change the oil in a 1959 Fiat? No one has yet found a question that can stump Elvis. And then he finishes it all off with a music-related question which usually involves him giving his own unique rendition of a contemporary chart-buster. Fast and cheap maybe, but priceless entertainment; it's the gen-yoo-ine article all right.

What if . . . Sandi Thom is the anti-Christ?

Oh, good. So it's not just me, then.
No, but seriously, I was feeling like such a curmudgeon, because now that I am riding to and from work with a much younger man, instead of taking the train, I hear a lot of radio - not commercial, thank grid, but BBC Radio 1 and Radio 2. And most of the "new" music I hear strikes me as being pure crap, whereas new music I get on my own, rather than having it spoon-fed by a m.o.r. "content provider", is really good. But "I Wish I Was a Punk-rocker" is in its own little class of awfulness. AND it's a fecking earworm. It's going through my head right now. It's enough to drive you to taking drugs that adversely affect short-term memory.

The truth about MySpace and the Arctic Monkeys

So, the Arctic Monkeys came from nowhere to number one due to their clever self-promotion on a lifestyle website called MySpace.com? Right? Wrong. The truth is, as ever, far more interesting.

America's ghost town

A review of a hip hop video by Louisiana artist Juvenile is a forum for a searching look at embattled black New Orleans. Things are not really improving there, people, despite the fiery grass-roots spirit of a lot of black and white musicians and workers of all kinds. Valiant community effort will only get you so far against obstacles like these. From City Pages.

Excuse me, weren't you in the Fall?

Dave Simpson is trying to track down everyone who has ever been a member of Mark E Smith's band, The Fall. Although I am not personally very familiar with The Fall, I plan to get more familiar with them, because I like what little I have heard so far. The late John Peel liked the band so much that he said all other rock bands should be measured against them. This article attempts to give an insight into the surreal world of the band, which was a sort of despotism of anarchy, shaped by the cruelly creative whimsy of Smith. The 42 people who used to be in The Fall all have stories of being abandoned in bars, flown to Europe for a gig and then sent home before it started, or hit on the head with chairs when Smith thought their style was becoming too "slick". Sounds like fun, eh?

Dylan - A Complete Unknown

I had high hopes of this City Pages review of Scorsese's No Direction Home, based on the title and the "hook" (Scorsese takes 200 minutes to preserve the mystery of Dylan). But I was disappointed, very disappointed. Biggest problem with it? The reviewer confesses that he is too young "to have ever trusted the dude in the first place" and then continues, thinking himself very hip and clever:

The combative mid-'60s press conferences, the autobiographical fabrications, the mumbled cryptoquips, the endless string of overrated best-album-since-Blood on the Tracks-es--all were part of the legacy passed on to us post-Boomers.

Excuse me, but do give it a rest. "Us Boomers" have heard this particular whinge quite enough, thanks. But then, having framed this as another us-vs-them generational pissing contest, he allows several howlers to creep in. He notes that "Like A Rolling Stone", in a week when it was no. 2 in the Top-10, "nestled not incongruously between the Beatles' Help and the Beach Boys' California Girls" in a screen-shot in the film. Damn, when in the 1980s or 1990s or this decade did you have three top songs of that calibre? Isn't it just too obvious that post-Boomers are suffering from the most massive case of Bloomian anxiety of influence imagineable? Isn't it all just too darned Oedipal? And then, and then, the twerp has the gall to cast aspersions on Scorsese's choice of a sound-track to the 1950s. Hey, dude, you have just told us that you were not around then, and Scorsese most definitely was, and he is a cultural giant while you are a lowly insect toiling away as a stringer for a local weekly! Where the heck do you get off telling Scorsese he got it wrong?
Truly, I wish someone would write a good review of No Direction Home. Someone who "gets" Dylan, who was alive in the 60s, who respects but doesn't worship Scorsese and who doesn't have an axe to grind. Damn, that could be me. Too bad I'm so lazy.

Blogging from Atlanta - Part III

This will probably be my last blog post from Atlanta, as I am flying home tomorrow. Wednesday evening I went to a concert with Carey and Alix - Iron and Wine at the Variety Playhouse in L5P. I got to try a martini at the Sweet Lime restaurant (see previous Atlanta post) and I opted for the Thai Tea Martini which was quite nice. I had more crab, more tofu-corn-cakes and then just some edamame, which I shared with Alix, who was also having shushi. This was before the show. Afterwards we went to the Euclid Avenue Yacht Club (note: there are no yachts and indeed no navigable waters within many miles of Atlanta) because it was about the only thing open. I had two vodka-limes. I was hung over the next day. Which was yesterday, a busy and exhausting day. It started with brunch with my very old friend Charles, proprietor of the Atlanta Book Exchange. (He's probably not net-savvy enough to appreciate that I just gave him a link. He says the inventory is online but I couldn't find it; I'll post it later if I can get it from him.) Then we went by the bookstore to chat with employee Jim, an almost-as-old friend and there we bought a few books. Then we went around photographing places we used to live. Then Carey dropped me at a Marta station and I went downtown and visited GSU, my alma mater, and Underground Atlanta (I say don't bother) and then, fool that I am, I walked all the way to Peachtree Center in my new achey-painy but rather sexy sandals. Ow, my feet, my back! I Marta'd back to Inman Park, where Carey picked me up and then we went on a marathon grocery shopping. Then we went to Carey's place, which he rents from and where he lives with Stephen, my godson and his sort-of step-brother. Also living there is John, Carey's uncle. Stephen was out but had promised to come by to see me, and he did, but only for about 15 minutes. When I finally got back to my motel at about 10:30 pm I was beat. Tonight I am making dinner for Carey and Alix in the motel suite kitchenette. Tomorrow is the last day and I don't have much planned, just packing, checking out, hanging out with Carey and starting the long flight home.

I Don't Want to Set the World On Fire

How do you preserve a precious e-mail? What happened to all the priceless chat from pre-internet days on bulletin boards? When all of us who remember an old, old song have died, will that song be around, and if not, will anybody care? Do you know what tunes went through your grandmother's head? Did your great-grandmother go to the cinema and if so, what did she see? what did she like?
While a lot of bloggers have the latest hits running through their heads ("earworms", love that neologism) I occasionally find myself in thrall to "Mairzy Dotes and Dozy Dotes" or "I Don't Want To Set the World on Fire", which is (hard to believe) not in the Rudy Vallee official hits CD. I think, and I should check on this while there is still time, that this was my father's all time favourite song. My mother used to sing Mairzy Dotes to me when I was a toddler, along with late-40s and early-50s country songs or hit songs. Mom was not a big Elvis fan. She was more Bill Anderson, the "whispering cowboy".
So, what runs through your head?

Do ye ken John Peel?

Possibly very few of my American readers will know of John Peel, born John Robert Parker Ravenscroft, even though he began his career in Dallas. He was well-known and loved here, a BBC radio host and former "pirate" DJ (although the BBC tribute conveniently leaves out that part of his CV). In fact at least one newspaper called him the Godfather of British pop music. He died yesterday while on a working holiday in Peru. He was a titan amongst DJs, a unique voice on the radio and from all accounts, a really nice guy too.

Like Buddha, like son

Here's a quirky little story in the Observer Music Monthly: Sting writes of his adventures in Nepal with his 18-year-old son and two travelling companions.

Cash & Strummer & Marley

I got the "heads up" from Jeanne at Body and Soul about this upcoming release. (The article by John Nichols in the Nation is better than a hundred fawning obituaries.)

Death of a Singer-Songwriter, Part I

Country singer Johnny Cash died today at the age of 71. Nowadays, that doesn't seem so old to me. Johnny and June Carter Cash were a big part of my youth, as I grew up in a solidly country-music household. And really Cash was more than just country. I will mourn him.

Death of a Singer-Songwriter, Part II

Warren Zevon, The Wind, the album he made shortly before his death from cancer, is reviewed by Alexis Petridis in the Guardian.

Why downloading is music's saviour

An article in the MediaGuardian.co.uk section by Owen Gibson, new Media editor.

Guide to British Folk Rock

I happened upon this guide to British folk rock by an American "child of punk". What no Maddy Prior?

Boomer Zeitgeist Redux

I seem to be making a habit of this! Here's another article which deconstructs the state of the Zeitgeist through the eyes of the boomer generation, rock music and Tony Blair! This one focuses on the seminal King Crimson song 21st Century Schizoid Man. Hmmm.

Boomer Zeitgeist

Stories about my generation abound these days. It must be all the famous people turning 50 (T Blair) or 60 (M Jagger) this year. This one was very touching - "The Hardest Working Band in Britain".

Hiphopophobia

Zoe WIlliams asks why we conflate "black culture" with the views and mores of only young, straight, black males in her article Hiphopophobia.