When Rod Stewart joined the Small Faces in 1968 …

… few could envisage the rollercoaster ride of showbiz, lechery, chaos and sheer waste-paper baskets that were going to ensue.

It’s exam time.

I’m getting my kicks any way I can.  CB radio codes and the police alphabet have been diverting me.

At the risk …

… of sounding like a stuck record, I have to draw your attention to Mark Kermode’s Cannes video diary on the BBC.  It is joyous.

I’m late on this one as I’m in the middle of my exams and should really be doing something other than catching up on my podcasts and blogs, but humby-ho.

(Incidentally, does anyone know the whereabouts of the YouTube video where Kermode’s impressions are laid over the visuals from Iron Man?  Good karma will rebound on the person who can help me out here.)

Linehan talks sense

Not that he doesn’t usually, but especially so in this post.

Proper bands

I was talking today to some ignorant youths who’d never heard of some excellent bands.  For their edification and everyone else’s entertainment, I provide the following.

I want to begin with an absolutely blistering live version of Dexy’s Midnight Runners performing “Let’s Make This Precious” on The Tube.  And, just to emphasise the lesson of today, that’s Dexy’s Midnight Runners: A Great Name for a Great Band.

But my real business here is with Madness, who were, despite what Joanne may or may not think, a monumentally important band in the Eighties and one of the finest pop bands ever.  Of critical importance to this title is that they were one of the first innovators with the pop video format and despite the early ones clearly being done on the tightest of shoestrings, they were done with enough wit and exuberance that the limitation became an asset.  Their great videos are legion – check them out on YouTube.  (I particularly recommend The Sun and the Rain, Shut Up, Our House, and Baggy Trousers for their videos.)

This one, though, has a special place in my heart, misspelt title and all:

A band, there, who write a catchy and upbeat ska-pop song about an unplanned mixed-race teenage pregnancy and litter their video for it with silly mini-saxophones and liberal doses of atmospheric smoke.  Mighty.

Sid Waddell

Sid Waddell is a darts commentator in the UK.  He was born the son of a miner but was educated at Cambridge in the 60s, where he read History.  In his commentary, a bizarre, alchemical mixture of high learning and working-class grit combine to give pure quote gold.  He hasn’t died or anything, it’s just that I remembered my favourite one (the last below) for some reason and went in search of others.  Here’s the creme de la menthe that I found:

“If we’d had Taylor at Hastings, the Normans would have turned round and gone home.”

“Bristow’s effect on the audience like Rasputin used to have on the birds a long time ago.”

“We couldn’t have more excitement if Elvis walked in and asked for a chip sandwich.”

“Jocky is going like the Loch Ness monster with a following wind.”

“William Tell could take an apple off your head, Taylor could take out a processed pea.”
 
The copper-bottomed classic remains this last one, told to me when I was bitching to my brother about having to learn about Alexander the Great’s life and campaigns; this nearly makes up for it:

“When Alexander of Macedonia was 33 he wept salt tears because there were no more worlds to conquer - Bristow’s only 27.”

Marvel at his majesty on his own “Classic Sid Commentary” page.

Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?

Not that I’m trying to rush you out the virtual door, but just to let you know of two excellent blogs I’ve heard of recently:

My pal Shayne’s new foodie blog, in which she shows us deprived Europeans how the Americans live (strawberry-flavoured cranberries?  She made that up, right?).

Karen Blados shows the world how I aspire to draw and journal.

Two into one doesn’t go unless you’re happy with meagre fractions

Here is Robyn Hitchcock doing a cover of Elvis’ That’s When Your Heartaches Begin.

He will be mine.  One day.

Jonathan Richman

I went to Jonathan Richman’s show at Whelans on Saturday night.  Very unusually for me, I had absolutely no experience of his music or act before stepping into the venue: I was there at the command of a friend in London who’d seen him the night before and said I had to “beg, borrow or steal a ticket” (direct quote).  I am now a fan.

He was utterly mesmerising for the entire set, managing to keep the heaving venue hanging on his every word, with just himself on the classical guitar and Tommy, his drummer, for support.  When I wasn’t laughing I was close to tears.  Songs were interspersed with energetic, unaccompanied dancing.  He is a hero.

Here’s a link to a muxtape an obliging acquaintance made for me.

Kermodean

One of my favourite people, Dr Mark Kermode, is trying to get the word “Kermodean” into general usage.  Its various definitions can be found in the podcast, but the gist is that it is an adjective used to describe behaviour, dress, opinions and/or contrariness like Kermode’s own.  I would like to point out that I was way ahead of the game when I used it all the way back at the start of April on this page.  Yes, get me.