Bless Dave he’s got round to sorting out the oft-threatened selectation duties for a new Um release, cos he reckons he can do the honours better than me or anyone else. Last week he sent me a 22 minute mix saying it was more or less definitive but last I heard (yesterday) he was on about a 3XLP! Anyway he sent some documentation pix to illustrate his dubious labour. Any you don’t recognise?
I always preferred Loop to The Spacemen, who seemed a bit built-from-parts and a put-on job besides, but funnily enough I seem to like them more and more, and almost because of those factors. I like the kind of will-to-power disregard of you know, 80s Warwickshire, in pursuit of some super-ridiculous rock vision. Got an odd admiration for Jagger for similar kinda chutzpah. Still struggle with Tom Waits though.
Think I might have blogged this before, which makes bragging about it again look even worse. This is intended as part of a sequence of brags though, if that makes it any better. But yeah, getting a namecheck on this Flower-Corsano joint makes my ego put on its sunglasses and nod thoughtfully at the camera. Simon Doozer should get a credit really, cos he did a lot of the digital sucking for the project that my lips were too stupid and broken to handle.
I love these guys. The thing that Ninja says about racism about 18 minutes in is just fantastic. I was telling Bobby about it and doing my best South African accent to really get it across and when I finished Bob’s eyes widened and he just said “pretty wise…” in the same sorta voice. Ninja is kind of who I wanted to be when I was about 15 crossed with who I’d really like to be now. Die Antwoord are on a long list of YouTube videos I’m meant to be doing.
Phil showed me the other night. Made by local boy, FX unit-worrier and circuit-perverter Rob Kemp. I like the kind of cheapo nihilist feel, especially the music.
Saw these lovely 10″s and wanted to buy them all, even just for the covers, but I couldn’t afford it. So instead I just went back every day and bought them one at a time. Click to enlarge.
Hung out with Phil at the Moonbase last night and he YouTube jockeyed the night away. First person I ever saw do that was Ariel Pink at the Bad Timing house in about 2005 I guess. Hip!
I was gonna do a post the other day about how you know when you have a serious vinyl jones because the records find you rather than the other way round. Like, I’m here trying to get rid of shit on Discogs and meanwhile I have a column advancing from the edge of the room to the centre with a fucking evil cancerous logic. Today I innocently cycled round my brother’s for a chick pea curry and on the way I pass a skip in a driveway with a big pile of vinyl in front and I assume I’m the first of my kind on the scene because in amongst the Gerry Rafferty/Blues Brothers/Men Without Hats records are Let It Be, Sgt Peppers, The White Album, Abbey Road and The Beatles 1967-1970. I also got a nice vase.
Had a bit of a reggae windfall this week. I’m getting used to the heartache of seeing a box of records lying about in Resale, falling upon them like Indiana Jones, but then being told they are still to be looked at and then never seeing them again. The other week there was a box of jazz treasures with a microwave sitting on top of a warping copy of A Love Supreme and all I could do was try to minimise the damage. Anyway, really fucking weirdly, or perhaps because of the recession/collapse of so-called Western Democracy, Resale Al saw me sideling about the aisles the other day and almost conspiratorially informed me that there was a box of records in the kitchen that I might want to have a look at. I’d actually seen them about 3 weeks previously but had given up all hope they’d appear in the shop. Anyway, nice seam of the black gold stuff:
Some people assert that the Man From Uranus ouevre, being at least in part reliant on the artistic fiction of a cosmological backdrop, lacks some sort of philosophical weight. Personally I think this view is, quite frankly, spacist.