Normal Service is Resumed

Sorry, the last few weeks have been pretty busy, but now I'm back into student mode you can expect posts more regularly. Just not right now, as I'm slightly tipsy and i worked my last nine hour shift this afternoon so sleep is my first priority- Freshers Week is here!!

Out-there Indie Chick Takes Over as NME Editor

I don't read the NME often. I bought a couple of issues back when I was about 14 or so, and desperate to look like I knew something about the up and coming bands, but since then it seems like Muse and Pete Doherty are always on there. Either that or another group of drainpipe jean wasters with more fringe than Cousin It. Some have even denounced the magazine as being an indie version of Heat magazine, though that's all about to change with a brand spanking new editor. And it's a girl. A hot one at that too- take a butchers...

Yup, it's not just any girl, it's an indie chick, Krissi Murison. I don't like to judge a person by their appearance (particularly as this photo sort of plays into the indie chick classic pose of "woah, the line up that night was immense!") but I swear she's just an amalgamation of pretty much every indie chick there ever was, annoying black fringe and popularity included. Ugh.

Then again I'm probably just a typical resentful nerd. She actually comes across as a well qualified person and a very likeable one at thay, or at least that's the impression she gives during interviews. I suppose it's just like with most indie/music related things; you always feel left out of the club if you can't keep up.

I might buy it for a while, see if it teaches me a thing or two about this whippersnapper music. Meanwhile, I'm off back to the new Prefab Sprout album, as recorded in 1993. Now THAT'S really obscure stuff.

It's On The Tip of my Tongue...

For the last month I've had a song in my head, on and off, and I couldn't think for the life of me what it was. Then, on this lazy Sunday afternoon, it suddenly occurs to me to look up New Order on Spotify, and lo and behold what happens. Turns out the song was True Faith.

It's used a lot in films about the Yuppie side of the 80s, such as American Psycho and Bright Lights, Big City, as well as every 'I Love the 80s' clip show on Yuppies. You know the ones, constantly showing blokes in red suspenders swigging Dom Perignon at the Stock Exchange.

A new book on Factory Records and the exploits of 80s impresario Tony Wilson is out now at HMV, so I'm re-listening to the Mancunian post punkers. Looks to be a good book on an important subject- the last decade in which we were world renowned for our pop.

Last Night of the Proms

Just tuned in to watch the last bit of the Last Night of the Proms. With a line up including Garry Mullen and the Works (i.e the bloke who won Stars in their Eyes a few years back), Barry Manilow and housewife favourite Katherine Jenkins you must have been pretty hardcore to watch the entire thing.

Now don't get me wrong, I am not a classical music snob who despises the last night for its populist appeal, though I know what I like as far as classical goes.It's an impenetrable world of pomposity and wankers galore and you have to be pretty loaded before you can even buy a bloody CD. Make one wrong choice and you're labelled an idiot for liking the tune.

For example, I made it out to one Prom this year with a £5 ticket for the Gallery hoping to hear Respighi's The Pines of Rome, only to read in the guide that some snot nosed undergrad from the Royal Academy of Music has declared it fascist. Apparently it reflects a nationalistic undercurrent in 1920s Italy because it's bombastic and cinematic. To be honest it feels about as fascist as the theme to Bagpuss, or at least no way more fascist than the regular pile of patriotic durge that is the dying moments of the Proms

There is something rather desperate about an audience of Classic FM listeners all singing along to the nation's favourite battle cries, Jerusalem and Pomp and Circumstance No.1 Sure, it's British and all that, and it's a chance for the lower middle class to celebrate the country that has allowed them to organise a mass Pub singalong, but really, why end a world-renowned classical music festival with Barry Manilow?

Oh well, at least noone else noticed the German flags flying proudly from the stands, waving in time. We need something even more 'British' to put them off. Perhaps next year we ought to try Wonderwall with Liam and Noel trying to kill themselves onstage. That should put the Erics off coming.

Why?

I've tried this before, though after giving it some consideration (i.e I was bored this afternoon) I'm trying the whole blog thing again. These things are great for airing your opinions to the world and annoying people at the same time, often so much so that eventually they wake up one morning and instinctively type your URL into their browser, then in a moment of shame they smash their laptop, resolving to live a life of complete technological freedom in the woods as far away from The Onion and Ctrl-Alt-Del as possible. That or they just check the BBC website for the weather like they usually do

Sorry, that mild sarcasm above is about as witty as it's going to get here. The name is great though isn't it? I nabbed it from Phil Collins' second solo album Hello, I Must Be Going. You'll get a lot of that kind of rather obscure cultural detail too. I love the Eighties and the cultural masterpieces it produced, such as Phil's solo work. As a result of being ridiculed since the age of about 13 for my tastes, I have become rather defensive as regards that great decade. It's not that I don't like the music of other decades, this one included, it's just that I don't understand why one must be so damned maligned or otherwise steeped so deep in nostalgia it's just embarrasing...

So there you have it, another grumpy twentysomething who knows very little of worth, and even feels bold enough to publish it on the internet. Enjoy.