We skipped opening act Automato
But we made a point of seeing second support band Engineers.
The London group has been accused, in a 9/10 NME album review of all things, of "Revisiting the sound of shoegazing the once despised indie genre of the late 80s and early 90s." Shoegazing was not despised by the thousands who bought the band's records and followed their tours. And Engineers' excellent debut album is far too mellow to be filed such a tag. Liken them instead to Doves and Elbow.
Then again, we walked in on a song being played at My Bloody Valentine-like ear-splitting volume.
Engineers are still finding themselves on stage - Simon Phipps holds back when singing without a guitar. Perhaps they're just shy.
We liked the dance groove emanating from the Casio keyboard.
During their eight-minute finale, Phipps offered his guitar to front row punters to strum.
They definitely made some friends and won some fans.
They blew it by letting their drummer have the last word.
Make that the last grunt.
I'd like to see Engineers in a smaller room.
Tong, Okereke and Moakes: Bloc Party have seized their moment like they always expected it.
This was the second of two sold-out nights for Bloc Party: that's 2800 tickets for a band barely 18 months old.
Plus, anyone who goes to gigs knows that there is sold out (where record company guest lists go unclaimed) and seriously sold out, where you can't get closer to the stage than the soundboard and the VIP area is elbow-room only. This was very much among the latter. Fortunately, we invaded Bloc Party's private viewing area early in the evening and it was half-way through the show before security noticed as much. They were very polite about asking us to vacate. (I told you Webster Hall has gotten better.)
Bloc Party are from Britain.
But their fans are American. Mostly.
I like that.
Plus, they're young. The fans, that is. (But then so's the band.)
And theyre into dancing. The fans, that is. (But then so's the band.)
Bloc Party may be overnight sensations, but in the tradition of all the most promising groups, they've seized their moment like they always expected it.
Bloc Party are not arrogant. Not in the aloof manner of British rock bands best personified by Oasis and such. They're far more engaging than that.
But they are supremely confident.
Front man Kele Okereke knows how to work the crowd. At the end of the first song, he suggests by arm gesture that the crowd offer a louder response and they oblige. At a later point, he repeats a comment from the crowd presumably directed at himself: "Did someone say nice ass?" He leads the audience along in some traditional handclapping. He tips us off to the last song of the set proper 'The Price Of Gas,' by suggesting "If you've got anything left to give, now would be the time to give it." And he offers the occasional body twist that, as per Ian McCulloch in days of Bunnymen past, inspires something akin to teen screams.
Some would describe this as ego-mania.
They said the same about Ian McCulloch.
Kele puts on the moves.
Kele is the star of the show.
But it's drummer Matt Tong who truly drives Bloc Party. Of all the new groups influenced by Gang of Four, Tong is the closest to a Hugo Burnham.
Bassist Gordon Moakes completes a fine rhythm section, easing in and around Tong, feeling the funk as he goes.
Shoegazing most certainly is back: lead guitarist Russell Lissack's face is lost beneath his floppy fringe as he stares intently at his Fender Tele. His choppy guitar lines take on more of a pscyhedelic edge in the process.
Oh, and Kele sings with a London accent. It's almost quaint after the distinctive 'regional' tones of Franz Ferdinand, The Futureheads, Maximo Park and all.
The best songs, live, are not suprisingly the best from the album Silent Alarm: 'Like Eating Glass,' 'Banquet,' 'Helicopter' and 'Plans.'
The ballads 'Blue Light' and 'This Modern Love' work well too.
But the frenetic 'Luno' "and your nose is bleeding" suffers for deliberate lack of guitars during the first verse.
Bloc Party are assumed to have the same old influences as every other new band, but for all that you can hear Joy Division, The Cure, PiL and of course, the G of 4, there is nothing derivative about their overall sound and vision. More than most of their peers, Bloc Party have the potential to become something original.
The encore was three songs long. It closed with the new single 'Pioneers.' Prior to performing it, Kele made a point of saying that this was the group's "favorite New York crowd" to date. They've played this city enough times to know.
After 'Pioneers' conclusion, the group left the stage and the house lights came up.
The crowd duly filed out of the hall.
Just before the room emptied completely, we heard a voice from the PA.
We turned to see a roadie at the mic.
"Um, if anybody's interested, they are going to do some more," he said sardonically, as if affronted that the crowd had not stayed behind yelling for another encore with the house lights up.
Fortunately the band themselves did not appear half as bothered. To a room now barely one-third filled (though with the front rows still packed tight), they ran through an unformed new number followed by a lengthy and impressive jam that must be either really old or really new.
At its conclusion, Kele half-heartedly stage-dived. Then, as Tong came to stage front, he got up on the drums for a quick shuffle the likes of which guitarists do at first opportunity in every rehearsal room in the world.
Tong promptly upstaged the singer by showing him how to stage-dive properly.
It was a thoroughly amateur encore.
And all the better for it.
Besides, there weren't that many people there to witness it.
This may have all been deliberate.
Or it might just have been a happy accident: the group deciding they didn't want to go home yet, even if the crowd did.
I hope it was the latter.
Because it suggested that, all overnight success aside, Bloc Party still see themselves as an indie band at heart.
And I like that.
Stream or download Bloc Party's live show at the 9.30 Club in DC on June 16 - the night after Webster Hall - at NPR here.
I'm hosting a stoop sale clear-out of my record collection this Sunday June 19, from 12 noon-4pm, out front of my Park Slope abode. I just have far too much music for one man to handle, and I need to pare it down to manageable proportions. To encourage sales and to keep things simple, every CD, LP and 12" will be just a dollar, with discounts for bulk purchases.
The LPs include a lot of American indie/alt-rock from the 80s onwards, and a fair smattering of British indie rock too. There's also a lot of good hip-hop and singer-songwriter vinyl LPs.
The 12" singles pile could be a burgeoning DJ's treasure chest: it includes vast amounts of industrial dance from the '80s and '90s, and a lot of techno and house from the '90s on. There's also a lot of mainstream 12" club mixes that I may be able to take bulk offers on.
CDs are right across the board; I'm clearing some old music off the shelves, letting go many compilations and soundtracks, trying to relieve myself of music I filed away and know I won't ever listen to again. There's also a lot of CDs from the last year or two of all styles.
Even those of us who have ripping-and-burning down to a fine art know that time is money. And that, at a dollar an album, you can't really go wrong. If you're interested, drop me an e-mail or a shout out in the Pub, and I'll send you the address. That's Sunday, June 19, 12 noon-4pm.
(There will also be 7" singles and books. But none of that furniture-toy-bric-a-brac crap that usually clutters up stoop sales.)
Sunday is, of course, Father's Day, another opportunity for the gift industry to make money. I told my own kids not that Noel understands anything yet that the best Father's Day gift is to let your dad spend the time the way he wants to. I plan on spending it sitting on my stoop chatting with music fans. Hope to see some of you there.
Pub member Kenny McColl, currently helping out with an exciting iJamming! redesign, sent me a link to this site, with a picture of the above contraption, after yesterday's story about cassette mixes. He pointed out that, if we had a 'Comments' option after each post, he could have supplied the link himself. True enough. We're considering including such a concept in the redesign. Next week, we're going to post some 'beta' pages and ask regular readers to share their thoughts on our redesign and its ease of function. It's looking good.
I railed last week against the New York Times' puff job on Bruce Ratner's proposed Atlantic Yards Nets arena and skyscraper complex. How can a newspaper possibly write an objectively critical piece about its own real estate partner? Answer: it can't. Fans For Fair Play called the Times on every line of the story. Read it here.
I railed last year against Nike's Run-Hit Wonder, which hired A Flock Of Seagulls and a so-called General Public to entertain ageing yuppie retro runners on their collective way round Central Park. (My wife Posie, who participated despite my objections, is of course excluded from my typically absurd generalization!) This year, I'm going to have a harder time giving Nike hell: the PR people at the company have wisely tied in the New York run with the Save CBGB campaign. A single dollar from each $20 entry fee is being donated directly to Save CBGB. First chocolate, now jogging. Where are all the ex-smack users when you need them? (Answer: dead, mostly.)
An unspecified number of random runners from a training run on June 29 will be entered into the now sold-out Nike race, the whole $20 fee going to Save CBGB. That training run starts at CBGB itself, and it might be worth turning up for the fun of watching several hundred people try to run the over-crowded East Village in unison. It might even be fun doing the actual run itself to hear, in order of personal preference, Fountains Of Wayne, The Donnas and Joan Jett and The Blackhearts. But for my own part, I've no interest in participating in a field of 10,000 runners unless it's a big city Marathon. I'm certainly not going to run a race in which Nike forces me to wear its own logo'd shirt. Nor one in which the promoters host live music en route and then tell you you can't stop to listen to it. But I do, reluctantly, applaud them for finding a good cause. Save CBGB should be receiving a minimum of $10,000 to help with legal and publicity bills.
Our good friend Jeni sent Posie this birthday card. It's the funniest I've seen in years. What I really love is that it's fully transatlantic, football fans being the same around the world regardless of how they qualify the game. It doesn't even need to be a birthday card; fact, it makes an ideal Father's Day card, too. Nice one, Jen
"The bike wreck on Fifth Avenue and Warren Street in Park Slope last Thursday was as bad as it gets... I found the whole thing chilling. I bike down Fifth Avenue all the time. In fact, only two weeks prior, two blocks away, I had crashed into the curb after being cut off by a careless cabbie. The body lying for way too long in the middle of the street under a plastic tarp could easily have been me or any one of a number of friends."
The above words could easily have been mine. They were written instead by another local resident, Aaron Naparstek, as part of his weekly column about city planning and congestion for the New York Press. I regret that I was unable to take part in today's bike protest ride, from the scene of the above accident to City Hall, which was scheduled to set off exactly one week after the tragic death of poor Elizabeth Padilla. In the meantime, the tribute on our street corner continues to grow, with hand-drawn flowers tacked to the curb, and poems and cards of condolence attached to the many flowers and plants. A picture of Elizabeth and her young husband in the throes of laughter is enough to make you cry. Naparstek rightly points out the injustice of the police failing to issue even the most basic of summonses to either vehicle driver involved in Padilla's unnecessary death.
A young life together cut off at a traffic light.
Writing about the beauty of cassette mix tapes in this week's Village Voice, Brandon Stosuy notes and then asks:
"Cassettes make things weightier. When else have you spent so much time analyzing a song, wondering if the inclusion of Jawbreaker's "Chesterfield King" meant (a) he/she loved you or (b) he/she equated you with the old lady in the parking lot who the song's hero encounters at the climactic moment?"
Thankfully, never: even I'm not that anal. And as for the following:
"My friend broke a case apart, took the tape out, and inserted it backward, then put the case back together with duct tape. I often used this as a way to tie A and B into one long around-the-corner loop... You can't do this on a CD."
Well, no you can't, but I assume that Stusoy, as a staff writer for the uber-hip Pitchforkmedia, is familiar with "glitch music," whereby the skips and jumps of dirty CDs is sampled to form entirely new pieces of music. Technology - analog and digital alike - is there to be used and abused, dismantled and rearranged to our liking. Avoid it at your peril.
Yes, this is a book cover.
In his defence, Stosuy's essay is primarily a pitch for Thurston Moore's new book, Mix Tape: The Art Of Cassette Culture, which I'm sure I would love. I too, have boxes upon boxes full of mix tapes: I still run to them occasionally, at which they bring back all sorts of memories. But iTunes, the iPod, Garageband and other cheap software all allow us the ability to continue down the same path, albeit in a different medium. Writing up my Spring Hitlist, I formulated my own suggested singles mix, and then acted upon it. I ripped the tunes onto iTunes, played with the sequence a few times until I was happy with it (something you can not do with cassettes) and then, as well as dropping it onto the iPod as a Playlist, burned the full audio files onto CD, and gave it to the wife as a new "mix-tape" album. Is that any less worthy than my Christmas cassette mixes of 'Silent Night, Silent Bloody Night' I sent to friends a few years ago: 60 minutes of the same song ranging from traditional to techno? (It will surely have more longevity!) Stosuy probably wouldn't know: he admits to owning neither an iPod, nor a DVD player, nor a cell phone....
Mix tapes of a different kind have come under scrutiny with an RIAA-sponsored police bust of Kim's Underground, a renowned East Village chain of hip but snooty stores that sell not-exactly-legal copies of hard-to-find CDs, videos, and DVDs. The bust was apparently intended to stifle the sale of hip-hop "mixtapes." Kelefa Sanneh writes in today's New York Times as follows:
"In its war against illegal music distribution, the [RIAA] has often treated..."musicians and record companies" as one and the same, arguing that piracy-happy fans are hurting the artists they love. But when it comes to hip-hop mixtapes, it is in a trickier position: the artists themselves often help produce the same mixtapes that the association is trying to squelch, and shrewd record labels long ago figured out that mixtapes can help drive sales of conventional CD's.
So while ... the trade group representing the labels cracks down on those who sell them .... who goes to jail? Well, suffice it to say that the police haven't arrested any of the major-label record executives who profit from the hype generated by mixtapes."
Q: Is is strange to still be in a band with your little brother?
Noel Gallagher: It's not the ideal situation. If I knew then what I know now, I would have passed on joining his band. He's just a fucking idiot, you know? You may laugh at that, but I'm actually being serious. I probably wouldn't have had as much success, but I think I would have been happier.
Q: I probably would never have even met someone like my brother if we weren't related.
Noel Gallagher: You can't choose them, can you? I just find him dull. This kind of leery, hard-man exterior... when I know him and he's a fucking idiot. It just doesn't wash for me, I'm afraid.
From an interview with Jay Ruttenberg in this week's Time Out New York.
"An English writer who made his name during the post-punk '80s, Paul Morley is a sort of Lester Bangs for readers whose life experience owes more to The Human League than to Van Morrison."
I would like to confirm that the above quote is from the satire section of The Onion, but it is instead included as part of a serious review of Morley's new book Words and Music in the paper's AV Club. Paul Morley? Lester Bangs? Don't make me laugh.
The iJAMMING! HITLIST
Ignore all you've read about Mulcahy's status as an almost-ran: anyone capable of an album so softly-stated and yet so emotionally resonant is a greater artistic success than any number of short-term sensations. Blessed and cursed with a voice that leaps out of speakers even at a whisper, Mark has finally learned to treat it with respect, keeping his volume low and his intonation clear; armed then with strong tunes, simple arrangements and personally powerful lyrics, he has made the strongest album of a long and varied career. 'Be Sure' is as fine a ballad as you'll hear from The Boss or The Man; 'A World Away From This One' sees his voice in near hymnal form. Bonus marks for rewriting the Pretenders hit as 'Propstar.'
Highlight: In the right hands, 'Have Patience' would surely be a hit. But Mulcahy plays the song so close to his heart that you're reluctant to let him share it with the masses.
Double compilation of the Breton harpist and all-round folk pioneer a man of whom I would probably know nothing but for my friend Geoffrey Armes writing regularly about him in his excellent unpublished memoir Music Matters. As an archivist of Celtic culture, Stivell (his name means 'fountain' in the Breton language of his Normandy birthplace), performs and sings compositions titled in several languages: this set includes 'Lands Of My Fathers,' 'Suite des Montagnes,' 'Rouantelez Vreizh,' to name but three examples. Picked up for nothing at a stoop sale - proving that it's always worth searching.
Highlight: 'Stok Ouzh An Enez (en Vue de L'ile') features harp, guitar and Alan's gentle voice singing in Breton. It was released in 1979, the height of my immersion in post-punk power-pop DIY mania, but it sounds just as fresh as anything I listened to back then.
Talking of whom, Geoffrey's previously-reviewed second solo album continues to grow on me. Acoustic songs with flamboyant little 12-string flourishes are a throw back to a 1970s style perfected by Gordon Lightfoot, Pentangle, and the aforementioned Celt Stivell; it's poetic, emotive and very cinematic.
Highlight: 'Gypsy Hill,' for all the shared childhood experiences.
Call this friend's corner: I've known Sydney-born Phil through his years both in London and New York, and consider him among my tightest. But though I wouldn't say a bad word against him, nor would I falsely praise him. Up Antenna (released only in Australia thus far) is the album he's been threatening for so long a mostly upbeat collection of infectious solo songs that could well be hits in the right hands. Get beyond the surprisingly poor choice of opening track 'You'll Never Find' and you're looking at any number beautiful semi-acoustic sing-alongs.
Highlight: 'Arms Around The Sun' offers the classic arrangement style of solo John Lennon without sounding derivative.
Their statement is still grandiose, their arrangements remain epic, but with middle age Mercury Rev have learned to refine and restrain, making The Secret Migration a work of overall beauty such as they've never mustered before. Yes, on a number like 'Diamonds,' Jonathan Donahue's voice can sound overbearingly similar to his compadre Wayne Coyne of Flaming Lips, but consider the two groups as flip sides of the same gold coin and count your riches.
Highlight: 'Across Yer Ocean' offers just the right amount of pomposity and purpose.
New York emo-electronic heads fail to fully deliver on eagerly anticipated debut. The promise of early live shows Radiohead on a dance groove is abandoned for conventional rock. The more the album proceeds, the more you can hear them over-reaching.
Highlight: 'All The King's Men' starts the album strongly; it never again reaches such heights.
Australian alt-rock classicists perform painlessly emotive songs in style of producer Chris Walla's Death Cab For Cutie, with the kind of musical modesty some of us wish for from Coldplay, and with the guts found lacking in Keane or Athlete. As such, we can forgive Skeleton Jar an inherent similarity of content, as we do vocalist Toby Martin (yes, that same last name) opening 'The Frankston Line' with the words "The day is gray, don't love you anymore."
Highlight: 'Baby Body' builds from arpeggio'd guitar verses to taut chorus with sweet harmonies and multiple swear-words: no easy balancing act.
Make it beyond Social Distortion's stodgy cover of The Clash's 'Death or Glory' and you'll find a skateboard movie compilation that somehow balances early 70s hard rock (Ted Nugent, Allman Brothers, Foghat, Nazareth) with classic glam (Sweet, David Bowie, T. Rex, Rod Stewart). Unless you're the kind of freak who can listen to all these acts alongside each other, you'll probably want to rip this down to a 30-minute treat.
Highlight: For sheer balls, Sparklehorse's concluding, gentle, heartfelt rendition of Pink Floyd's 'Wish You Were Here' deserves commendation.
The modern music industry is such that if a song off your last album makes it onto a TV commercial as with the Caesars' 'Jerk It Out' and the iPod Shuffle spot you stick it on your new album too. Fortunately, Paper Tigers itself is anything but filler, and though the craze for garage-rock inspired English language Swedes may be fading, Caesars have sufficient songwriting talent to see them through: the sing-along power-pop anthems are balanced out with acoustic tracks, psychedelic work-outs and proper ballads. Primary songwriter Joachim Ahlund has a killer voice, and, any group that makes such regular and expert use of the Farfisa organ is alright with me.
Highlights: 'Not The Fall That Hurts,' 'We Got To Leave' and 'Soul Chaser' should be on everyone's singalongasummershuffle.
German wunderkind's amalgamation of electro, industrial, metal, hardcore, techno, and breaks. Alec Empire guests on 'Bypass,' Felix Neuenhoff shows up on several cuts and the delightfully named Diskette brings class to 'Biker.' What's left are electronic instrumentals of various degrees of accessibility, from the easy-going 'Edinburgh' to the could-it-be-anything-but-furious 'Hatefuckkillwar.'
Highlight: Mark Stewart brings his distinct (and typically undermixed) yelp to the relatively structured 'Pyschoville'. (MP3 available here.)
Much of what he sang with The Drifters sounds tame to modern ears 'White Christmas' anyone? but McPhatter's role in bringing Harlem gospel to rhythm and blues can not be over-stated.
Highlight: 'Have Mercy Baby' from McPhatter's pre-Atlantic era with Billy Ward's Dominoes will send shivers down your spine all the more so when you realize it was recorded in 1951.
RHYTHM AND THE BLUES: A LIFE IN AMERICAN MUSIC JERRY WEXLER and DAVID RITZ (Alfred A. Knopf)
Jazz, blues, soul, rock, the history of Atlantic Records and with it that of American popular music all jump off the page in the renowned producer's autobiography
WHERE YOU'RE AT PATRICK NEATE (Penguin)
English white boy traverses the Globe in search of hip-hop authenticity. Frequently trips over his own untied shoe laces in the process which makes for a more entertaining read.
LUC SANTE LOW LIFE: LURES AND SNARES OF OLD NEW YORK (Farrar Straus Girrar)
The true - and truly seedy - history of New York City, as viewed from the downtown slums.
200 BEATS PER MINUTE - EDDIE BEVERAGE (Sure Shot)
Read review here
BEYOND THE SEA (2004)
You may not be a Bobby Darin fan going into Kevin Spacey's starring role/directorial debut, about the teen idol turned Vegas entertainer turned political activist and folkie, who died aged just 37. But chances are you'll come away with a new found respect for the man and for the risks that he took in what he always knew would be a short life on earth.
Much like The Clash movie Rude Boy, Charlie Ahearn's docu-drama of early 80s hip-hop with graffiti in a starring role above the movement's other art forms, DJing, MCing and breakdancing should not be viewed for its acting or its plot, but for its historical importance. The party scenes shot at The Dixie in the South Bronx and the Lower East Side Amphitheater on the Lower East Side are priceless.
Am I the only one who finds it hard to focus in this heat? Or is it that I have too many things going on and I need to start tackling them one by one? OK, and either way, it means I again can't get stuck in today in the kind of detail I love to offer at iJamming!, but watch this space for:
A heatwave hit list.
A stoop sale. Time to again try and pare down my overly large, overly stocked music collection which no longer fits in my basement, let alone in my office. I'm hoping for this weekend, though I'm keeping an eye on the forecast before settling on either Saturday or (and?) Sunday.
A Bloc Party review. The group have sold out two nights at Webster Hall (2800 tickets in all), and I'm planning on the second show, Wednesday night. Looking forward to it, too: the album lived up to expectations.
That Mark E. Smith Jamming! magazine interview from 1979 in fulll.
News on new books.
A web site redesign.
A midsummer's Step On, June 24.
A change of lifestyle.
Somewhat swamped today, so excuse the lack of Musings. Instead, in the transAtlantic spirit of iJamming!, I'll offer up a link to the Manchester Buccaneers blog. It's written by a 12 year old Tampa Bay Buccaneers fan delighted that Malcolm Glazier has bought out Man Utd and eager to spread the word about the new soccer franchise.... And if you believe that, you'll believe anything. Check the comments after each thread: looks like there's plenty Brits playing along. Thanks to Pub member Snotty Moore for the link.
June 6-12: 200 Beats Per Minute book review, Community Matters, Futureheads/Keren Ann live, Life Is Short, Vinum Petite Sirah 'Pets' review
May 30-June 5: Rockin' & Shockin', Total Wine Bar, Cline Red Truck White,
May 23-29: Live reviews of Kasabian, Gang Of Four, Mercury Rev, Doves, Radio 4, The Ordinary Boys, The Hong Kong, West Indian Girl
May 16-22: 5th Avenue Street Fair,Stellastarr* live, Spizz Energi, CBGB, Guy Pratt, Clash
May 9-15: Brooklyn Beats, New York Nights, Cider With Roadies, Spizz, Clash, Basquiat,
May 2-8: The Spring (Cleaning) Hitlist, Cure vs. Smiths, Happy Endings, Brooklyn Real Estate Bust, Save CBGB: Eat More Chocolate
April 25-May 1: Erasure live, LeNell's Wine store, Happy Endings, Peter Hook
April 18-24: Rockin' & Shockin', M83/Ulrich Schnauss live, NJ Marathon, Ribolla Gialla wine
April 11-17: The Spring Hitlist, Springtime In Brooklyn, Restaurant Reviews, Supermom!
April 4-10: Twenty wine reviews, FischerSpooner, KEXP, Loveless, Rockin' & Shockin'
Mar 28-April 3: Loathsome! Daft! Human! Overload! Rockin' & Shockin'
Mar 21-27: The Go! Team live, Ian Brown dead, Pont Neuf wine, Hall Of Fame rules, Cocotte restaurant, Marilyn Monroe/Jean-Michel Basquiat exhibitions
Mar 14-20: The March Hitlist, Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Dinner report,
Mar 7-13: Bouillabaisse 126 restaurant review; Going Up In The World; Dandy Mama; Tim Booth
Feb 21-Mar 6: Live reviews: Ian Brown, Schizo Fun Addict, Soft Explosions, The Stands. Wine review: Langhorne Creek Selkirk Shiraz.
Feb 14-20: Ten Words Of Wisdom, Weblinks, Stone Roses demos, Lyceum revisited, Bandol wine review
Feb 7-13: Fanzines, Village Voice Pazz & Jop Poll, Chord & Tabs, The Plug Awards, Tear Down The Discos, Jean Lallement Champagne review
Jan 31-Feb 6: Erasure/Tim Booth/M83/T.H. White album reviews. WebFriends Day. The Jam vs. The Smiths vs. The USA, Iraq elections
Jan 24-30: Chemical Brothers/Lemon Jelly/Slits album reviews. Ted Leo/Benzos live reviews. Gang of Four/Specials/Happy Mondays/Farm/Bureau reunions. Tempranillo wine reviews.
Jan 17-23: The January Hitlist: Those That Almost Got Away, Revolutions, Remixes, Remisses, Justin Timberlake, Fiery Furnaces, Jimmy Edgar live
Jan 10-16: Tsunami observations/relief efforts/fund-raisers, Best Wines of 2004, British vs. American charts, Alba Chambourcin wine review
Jan 3-9: The Best Of 2004 - Albums and Singles; Biggest Disappointments of 2004; Minutes of A Miracle: Our Son Noel; New York Club Nights
2004 MUSINGS ARE LISTED HERE
2003 MUSINGS ARE LISTED HERE
2002 MUSINGS ARE LISTED HERE: