Which Reminds Me

In all honesty, I don’t know how I’ve lasted so long without doing one of these in the day or so after I’ve posted the latest instalment of The Chain, for often something someone posts will lead me to think of something else, much as it does with the regular contributors to that thread that I host.

I’ve had a few lovely messages and emails recently telling me how much The Chain is loved, and how it must take me a long time to prepare, and to thank me for taking the time to do it. Thanks to all who have taken the time to send me such messages, genuinely it is very much appreciated.

But I maintain all I do is host it: it’s you guys and girls who write it, all I do is pull it all together, stick a couple of gags in (you’ve noticed them, right?), suggest a couple of tunes myself, and hey presto! Done.

False modesty. It’s actually a lot more time consuming than that.

Anyway, thank you to all the Chain Gang, no matter how many times you’ve made a suggestion, it pleases me no end to know you enjoy what I do here every Wednesday, even if the rest of what I post largely goes unnoticed.

Often, I find myself willing people to suggest a certain record. I try to suggest a maximum of three per week, and once I’ve decided on those three, just like most of you, I find myself face-palming myself and going “Doh! How could I forget….(insert obvious record title here).

The “willing someone to suggest a certain record” thing happened the other week, when Dirk suggested Wall of Voodoo’s “Dance You Fuckers” (which, for the record, I think I like more than “Mexican Radio” – but then I’m a juvenile at heart, entertained by rude words), and also made reference to Colorblind James Experience. Charity Chic (kinda) picked up on it and (kinda) formally suggested their wonderful “Considering a Move to Memphis”, a tune I love, which holds many happy memories for me, and which I will take any excuse to post.

I was presented with a copy of this album when I was at college; it was just as I started DJ’ing the Indie Night – my first step to if not world then campus domination – when frankly I was getting lots of pasty looking Indie kids thrusting records at me and asking me to play them. But this came from a girl I utterly fancied; she presented me with a copy on a C90 cassette which I still have, buried in a box somewhere, hibernating until I get my act together and buy a sound system that allows me to actually play it. (Sound system?? How old am I????)

But there’s another song, by the same band, from the same album, which perfectly bridges the gap between the two songs. Stylistically it’s not a million miles away from “Considering…” but since whenever Colorblind James Experience is mentioned, invariably its that tune that gets posted, I thought I’d give you a different one by the same folks today.

I’ve never managed to lay my hands on an original copy, and as I upload it, I realise that I probably downloaded it from Dirk’s wonderful Sexyloser blog god knows how long ago, which adds a nice bit of circularity to it all. Actually, not even probable. Definitely. If you download it, you will see what leads me to that conclusion.

So, here, from the same debut album as “Considering…” is “Dance, Critters!”, with thanks to Dirk:


The Colorblind James Experience – Dance Critters!

More soon.


My weekend has started well. This morning I managed to sit on, and break, my only remaining pair of glasses.

I have spent the morning fiddling around with bits of Sellotape, super glue and cotton buds in an effort to repair them. How successful my efforts have been remains to be seen.

As it happens, this is the kick up the arse I need to go and get another pair, for these ones have been annoying me for months now. I bought them before I went to Glastonbury last year, and, figuring it’d save me either having to fiddle with contact lenses or take a spare pair of sunglasses, I opted for a pair which react to sunlight by turning dark.

A great idea, in theory, until you realise just how susceptible to day light they are, and how long it takes them to turn back from shades to normal glasses. I soon found that going out to get some lunch in the depths of winter was enough to set them off; I lost count of the amount of people who, on my return to the office, asked me what kind of a prick wears sunglasses in January.

They have, on occasion had their benefits, though; I was once queuing up in a corner shop to buy bread and milk, when the chap in front of me turned round, saw me, and immediately offered to let me go first. Slightly bemused, and thinking how nice the locals are round my way, I accepted his kind offer; it didn’t occur to me until after I’d left that his kindness had been prompted by my glasses being dark and his assumption that I must be visually impaired.

The irony is that now, I, kind of, am.

Still, it gives me an excuse to post this little belter:


Hercules and Love Affair – Blind

I look forward to your “should have gone to Specsavers” comments with barely concealed disdain.

More soon.