…and here’s Evan Dando and his Lemonheads with their almost identical version, which, to my mind, defeats the object of covering a song. Fine if you’re in a pub rock cover band, where you want everyone in the bar to recognise the song, but when it comes to recording and commercially releasing a cover, do something with it (I should stress, its their version that first brought Parsons to my attention, so I owe Dando a huge debt…):
If I was smarter, I’d have gone full blown Hitchhiker’s Guide and made this week’s mix all spacey, and would have at least lobbed in Radiohead’s Paranoid Android (or even Marvin the Paranoid Android’s novelty single) But I’m not, so I didn’t.
So anyway, it’s been a v busy week here at Dubious Towers work-wise, with one of my colleagues off sick for most of it, and my immediate line-manager on annual leave, leaving little old me to hold the fort. Not that I have any room to complain, mind, given the amount of time I’ve had off over the past 12 months or so.
But, you lucky things, despite this I’ve managed to (rather hurriedly, admittedly) write some sleeve notes for you, so let’s crack on, shall we?
Here come 19 songs, 60 minutes and 52 seconds, and 1 mix:
That’s right, we’re starting off on a classy 70s tip. I don’t need to tell you who Stevie Wonder is, I hope. This is from his 1973 classic Innervisions album, back when he was releasing cool records like nobody’s business, rather than dreary top-of-the-charts-bothering songs about calling someone up to tell them he likes them a lot, or whatever else he’s been up to since 1984.
2. KC & The Sunshine Band – Boogie Shoes
This is included on the soundtrack (Part 2) of the blimming marvellous Boogie Nights movie, featuring the late great Burt Reynolds in one of his finest roles, and Mark Wahlberg and his prosthetic ‘thingy’ (which was shaped exactly like ‘a thingy’), which is a good enough reason to include it here.
3. Beyond The Wizard’s Sleeve – Bubble Burst
Putting aside the euphemistic and rude name of the band, this is Erol Alkan and Richard Norris having a fine old time in the studio. It came out on a six-track mini-album in 2007 (although this sounds authentically much older) called George. ASDA should sue.
4. The Chi-Lites – Are You My Woman (Tell Me So)
You’ll recognise the brass section on this, I reckon.
5. Brenda Holloway – Think It Over (Before You Break My Heart)
Another absolutely belting Northern Soul classic. But then, aren’t they all?
6. The Only Ones – Another Girl, Another Planet
A change of tone. This is not just one of the greatest punk/new wave singles, it’s one of the greatest singles ever released. Fact.
7. The Stranglers – Duchess
Some wonky Inspiral-inspiring organ work here. For which we are all entirely grateful, of course. I wonder if the Rodneys are still queuing up?
8. Rick Springfield – Love Is Alright Tonite
I’ve included this for two reasons: firstly, just to break up the run of tracks by bands with ‘The’ at the start of their names, and secondly to show Springfield shouldn’t just be known for Jessie’s Girl. Okay, this isn’t as great as Jessie’s Girl, but it’s not far off it. Ok, it is quite far off it, but it’s not bad as far as early 80s MOR rock goes. I like it anyway, for what it’s worth,
9. The Strokes – The Modern Age
Can you believe that their debut album, Is This It?, was released 23 years ago? Man, I feel old. As it happens, this pretty much was it (seewhatIdidthere?) for The Strokes, although they did release several further albums, none of which came anywhere close to matching the majesty of their first effort.
10. Lemonheads – Confetti
Just great. The album that made me, and many others I would imagine, fall in love with Evan Dando’s goofy charms and Gram Parsons-influenced tunes.
11. The Flatmates – Shimmer
Female fronted British jingly jangly indie bands were ten-a-penny in the late 80s. I loved them all. This is from 1988, was released on The Subway Organisation label (which I loved); I own it on 12″, and it has three other great tracks on it, one of which is a Dylan (Bob, not Thomas) cover on it that I really must dig out and post at some point.
12. The Housemartins – Bow Down
I make no secret about how much I admire Paul Heaton’s lyrics, although every time I feature something by him from his Housemartins or Beautiful South days it’s generally met with stoney silence round these parts. Some folks I know rue The Housemartins splitting up, and Heaton eschewing their trademark jangly guitar sound for a more middle-of-the-road one, but I think he was heading that way when he wrote this scathing attack on the education system in general and public schools in particular. I think it’s rather ace, even if it does feature St Winifred’s School Choir (they of the horrifically saccharine There’s No One Quite Like Grandma fame).
13. Blancmange – Don’t Tell Me
One of the most over-looked and under-rated bands from the 80s in my book. Discuss.
14. Adam & The Ants – Kings Of The Wild Frontier
I’ve been meaning to post something by Marco, Merrick, Terry Lee, Gary Tibbs and his truly for ages now, but I just never got round to it. But at the Billy Bragg gig the other week, my buddy Richie mentioned that this was the first record he ever “chose for himself”, which I thought was an interesting way to avoid saying “I ever bought”. It’s not a criticism, long term readers will recall the first record I ever chose for myself (and the subject of my first ever post here) was The Boy From New York City by Darts, so Richie wins that one on the cool front.
Oh and by the way, Adam: unless I missed a memo we say Native American these days, not ‘redskin’.
15. Kylie Minogue – Shocked
Shut up. It’s great and you know it.
16. Bananarama – I Heard A Rumour
Shut up. It’s great and you know it (slight return).
17. Girls Aloud – On The Metro
Moving swiftly on from the SAW phase of this mix: until a couple of weeks ago, I had no idea this existed. How did I not know that the Girls had released Ten, a second volume of greatest hits in 2012?? I only found out because this clip of them doing it live was posted on Twitter (yup, I still refuse to call it X):
It’s pretty great, no?
But what that clip highlights is the problem when performing ‘in the round’ (that’s with the stage in the middle of the venue, rather than at one end, for the uninitiated). I mean, just imagine you were standing behind the direction in which they’re facing, you’d only be able to see…oh wait, now I see the appeal. Phew-wheee mama!
18. They Might Be Giants – Don’t Let’s Start
The one of theirs that you know (probably) that isn’t Birdhouse in Your Soul.
19. The Smiths – You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet, Baby
Putting aside the singer’s current reputation, this is one of their finest moments. How it remained unreleased until their 1987 compilation The World Won’t Listen is beyond me. Should have been a single, end of.
Speaking of end of, that’s the end. Hope you enjoyed.
‘Til next time (it’s not as good as More soon, that, is it?)
A post title guaranteed to annoy and disappoint fans of a certain fim involving Patrick Swayze, which holds an embarrasing memory for me. The full story is here.
Whatever. The other day on Pointless, there was a picture round about multiple Grammy winners, where there was one photo I knew I should know, but couldn’t identify. Turns out it was (spoiler alert) Alison Krauss, and I was bloody annoyed for not having recognised her. And it was a Pointless answer (I think), so doubly annoying.
Serendipitously, long time friend of the blog, and regular contributor to The Chain (back when I could be bothered to write it), babylotti seems to have finally got their house in order and started actually posting on their own blog for the first time since a one-off post ten years ago.
If you like obscure tracks from 80s stalwarts like Soft Cell and 90s electro-pioneers Sheep on Drugs, give them a visit, here: Livin’ Out Rock’n’Roll.
I’m torn between two songs to post to celebrate the proper arrival of babylotti on the blogging scene, so here’s both of them. Firstly, a tune which I suspect is unlikely to ever feature over there:
And, as promised/threatened (delete as applicable), we’re back with one of my self-proclaimed ‘eclectic’ mixes.
This one clocks is at just shy of 90 minutes, as opposed to the usual 60-ish, which is partly to celebrate the return of the mix, but also as a reference to an NHS employee I encountered when I had my recent consultant with a rheumatologist.
As this was my first visit, I had to have the usual checks (height, weight, blood pressure) and as I entered the examination room the chap about to perform these tasks (he did introduce himself, but I’m terrible with names) commented that he liked my t-shirt.
I was wearing one which was a homage to the retro, and had depictions of nine cassette tapes on it. This one, in fact:
I pretended I wasn’t absolutely delighted to have someone commend my sartorial taste.
“Thanks,” I replied, “but you realise you’re showing your age, right?”
So, anonymous NHS chap, this mix is designed to fit on a C90 in your honour. Yes, I’d rather you had a decent pay rise too, but sadly that is beyond my control.
Anyway, since this mix includes a bit of actual mixing, it’s admin/disclaimer time: any shonky mixes are down to me; any skips or jumps are down to the mixing software or the uploading process; all song choices are mine.
And here’s your track listing, complete with sleeve notes:
Spinal Tap – Tonight I’m Gonna Rock You Tonight
Regulars will know that I like to kick these mixes off with a pace-setter, and this week I was torn between four different tunes. Unable to decide which to use, I’ve included all of them. I was, as you will have gathered from the image at the top of this post, unable to resist starting proceedings with something from one of the funniest films ever made (and I don’t mean Big Momma’s House).
2. Led Zeppelin – Rock and Roll
Second song which could’ve been the opener. Since this is the first mix I’ve posted since October, the “been a long time” lyric seemed too appropriate to ignore
3. The Jim Jones Revue – High Horse
Whatever happened to this lot? Like Jerry Lee Lewis meets the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, this is fecking great.
4. The Vines – Ride
Potential opener number 3. Instead: consider it an invitation.
5. Ride – Like a Daydream
I couldn’t resist the theme. Sue me. Also: I was there Part 1. The video for this was filmed at That London’s ULU, and I was there. Sort of. A story for another day, I think (if I haven’t written about it before, that is…)
6. Helen Love – Power On the Music
Potential opener number 4. Helen Love are ace, even better now they’ve moved on from their original obsession with Joey Ramone to release a swathe of top-notch indie-pop records (not that the Ramone-fixated years weren’t also great). This little beauty is simply a call to play music loudly, and contains one of the few Super Furry Animals samples that I’m aware of.
7. The Lovely Eggs – Don’t Look at Me (I Don’t Like It)
Short of some decent insults? There’s loads in this absolute belter. Lovely stuff.
8. Fatboy Slim – Right Here, Right Now
At the time of writing, there’s a documentary on Sky/NOWTV which covers the events of July 13 2002, when Fatboy Slim threw Big Beach Boutique II, a free entry gig on Brighton beach which was expected to attract around 60,000 people, but which actually found the seaside town over-run by closer to 250,000. One of whom was me (I was there Part 2). I’ll be writing about it when the time is appropriate (i.e. come the 21st anniversary later this year…).
9. U2 – Even Better Than The Real Thing (Perfecto Mix)
Look, I know it’s not the done thing to like U2, and I would certainly not consider myself a fan. But, as the saying goes, even a stopped clock is right twice a day. It’s possible to think that this remix is great, but retain the belief that Bono is a prick. Lose the sunglasses, mate, you’re not Edgar Davids.
Edgar Davids: Not Bono.
10. The Tamperer feat. Maya – Feel It
Some dumb but great pop from 1998. At the time this was riding high in the charts, I was working at Boots the Chemist in Cardiff, and remember going to local dodgy night-spot Zeus with some of the store’s weekend staff – students, predominantly – and trying to explain to one them that the riff this is based on is a Jacksons sample. She didn’t know the original, nor who The Jacksons were for that matter, and I’ve rarely felt older until I just looked up the date when this came out.
11. Tim Deluxe (Feat. Sam Obernik) – It Just Won’t Do
Fatboy’s opening tune from the aforementioned Big Beach Boutique II gig and an absolute “choon”.
12. Danny Tenaglia + Celeda – Music Is The Answer
In the words of Frank Sidebottom: “You know it is, it really is.”
13. The Prodigy – Breathe
It’s really hard to overstate just how massive The Prodg were way back then, but perhaps this best explains it: in 1998 (two years after this was released) I visited some friends in Nottingham and, as is the law there, we ended up at Rock City, where the DJ broke two golden rules: 1) he played two tunes by the same artists in the same set, and 2) he played them right next to each other, Firestarter followed immediately by this. Rather than point out his faux pas, I danced my legs down to the knees, as did pretty much every one else there that night.
14. Oceanic – Insanity (99 Radio Edit)
Still a tune. Whilst I’ve been off work, I’ve watched all the Top of the Pops recaps of the years on the BBC iPlayer, and the two members of Oceanic continue to argue to this day as to whose idea it was to include the key change in this. Doubtless, Louis Walsh will step in and claim credit at some point.
15. The Osmonds – Crazy Horses
I was DJing once, opening slot (so I could get home on public transport) when the chap following on from me decided to guide me through the records he had brought and especially drew my attention to an Osmonds Greatest Hits album he had in his record satchel.
“Do you know what I’ll be playing off of this, Jez?” he asked.
I gave him my best “do-you-know-who-you’re-talking-to?” look and replied innocently: “Love Me For a Reason?”. Twat.
16. Billy Bragg & Wilco – Hoodoo Voodoo
If I could find a clip of Vic & Bob performing their voodoo song – “Do you do voodoo?” – then I’d include it here, but I can’t so….tough.
17. El Goodo – Feel So Good
Apparently, I’ve met at least some of this lot, friends of friends, who have made the mistake of making themselves incredibly hard to find via a Google search, given that their name is derived from a very wonderful tune by icons-to-cool-indie-kids Big Star.
18. Django Django – Default
You can tell it’s getting near the end when all I can think of to say is that this is great. Next!
19. Cracker – Movie Star
Because your Friday night wouldn’t be complete without a song about a decapitated celebrity, right?
20. The Dandy Warhols – Bohemian Like You
Okay, so I know it’s an obvious pick from this band’s back catalogue, and also it was used in *shudders* an advert back in the day, but, at the risk of sounding patronising, I figured a tune most of you will know was needed. My apologies if I’ve underestimated you. This reminds me of dancing in a packed Cardiff’s Barfly with my buddies Llŷr, Mike, Vicky, and the two Claires. Happy days.
21. The Stylistics – Can’t Give You Anything (But My Love)
I’ve had this in my brain for ages, a forgotten 70s classic. It’s another beauty, which probably would have sounded pretty great next to The Tamperer, but it’s getting late and I can’t be arsed with redoing the whole mix. Here is just fine.
22. The Divine Comedy – Everybody Knows (Except You)
And so we fade further into end-of-night sing-a-long territory. Probably my favourite Hannon composition (although, to be fair, that changes fairy regularly).
23. The Lemonheads – Bit Part
More sing-a-long stuff which, I’ll be honest, has been squeezed in for no other reason than I realised I had room.
24. Baby Bird – Goodnight
Night BB, thank you for not singing You’re Gorgeous. And that’s it, right?
25. R.E.M. – Afterhours
Wrong. I flim-flammed between this and The Velvet Underground’s original (and indeed We Are Scientists identically-named belter) as the final tune, before ultimately plumping for Stipe & Co’s rather shambolic version, deciding the applause to wrap things up was egotistically appropriate, if ill-deserved on my part. This is lifted from a rip of the band’s Tourfilm video which showed them on the tour to promote the Green album back in 1989 – the first time I ever saw them (at the Newport Centre, support from the Blue Aeroplanes), and to this day my favourite gig I ever went to. With thanks and much love to the much missed The Power of Independent Trucking blog for providing.
Now I’m off to put my hands, fingers and wrists in ice to recover.
I’ve doubtless posted this song before at some point, but I thought it was about time that I crow-barred another of Evan Dando’s unique brand of goofball-slacker-country rock tunes into this series.
This is my favourite song from an album which, thirty years after it was released, remains one of my favourite albums, It’s A Shame About Ray:
Here we are again, and this week, as ‘promised’ a completely new mix for your Friday Night enjoyment.
Not much to say about this one (man alive, I know how to pitch!), except to say that after the first track, it goes a little bit Radio 2 for a few songs (which is no bad thing in my book), before diving head-long into a right old Indie disco, starting off over in the USA (and mostly New York) before switching to some tunes which are unmistakeably British, along with a rip-roaring final track to bring matters to a close.
Here comes the disclaimer: any skips or jumps are down to the mixing software (there’s one biggie in the first tune, but other than that it seems to have behaved itself this time); any mis-timed mixes are down to me; all record selections are mine.
Blimey. It’s been almost two years since I wrote something in this series. Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun? I mean, I must have been having fun, I can’t think of anything else which has happened since March 2020 which might have made this series drop off my radar…
To make up for the long gap, here are two songs from the same album, both sliding in just under the requisite 2:00 mark.
They’re from one of my all-time favourite albums, and the band in question have featured in this series before. Much as I love them, they do have an annoying habit of sometimes including and sometimes omitting the ‘The’ from the start of their name. These are from a phase when it wasn’t included, as evidenced by the album sleeve:
Reissue time at Dubious Taste Towers, and 2020 sees the 30th anniversary of the Lemonheads Lovey album.
It’s the album immediately before their breakthrough effort It’s A Shame About Ray, which is one of my favourite albums ever.
Lovey, not so much. It’s a mixed bag that doesn’t have the cohesive identity that …Ray does, but it does signify the progression the band were making from the thrashy hardcore meanderings of their first album, Lick, through to the more alt-country beauty of …Ray.
As such, it’s a lot more hit and miss than the record that followed it, but it does contain a couple of absolute diamonds: a beautiful, very faithful, cover of Gram Parsons’ Brass Buttons, and today’s choice, which very much points the direction the band were heading:
Apologies for the lack of a post yesterday; I could have sworn I wrote something over the weekend to feature in the usual I’m Not Too Keen on Mondays series, but apparently not. I think I decided after writing The Chain that I just couldn’t be bothered, which, given the supposed inspirational, motivational theme of the series is a tad ironic.
Anyway, I’ll try to combine the two, with this rollicking opening track from one of my favourite records ever. The title, however, may be a little inappropriate for these times, but since it clocks in at a mere 1:47 it’s perfect for here, and allows us to look forward to the day when we’re allowed out to have any kind of stroll at all, be it of the Rockin’ or just Plain variety.
One year ago tomorrow, I was admitted to hospital. This led to some posts where I tried to wring as much humour as I could from the sitution. This, combined with my more recent story about how I accidentally exposed my arse in a local convenience store, and as the dark nights are drawing in, led me to decide to share some more embarassing moments from the file marked “Oh, Jeremy…”
As a bit of a back-story by way of an introduction: years ago, when I still lived in Cardiff, I was out one night with a now ex-girlfriend and her friends. She was off dancing, and one of her friends shuffled along the seats towards me.
“Can I just say that you seem really nice, we all really like you and approve of you being with XXXX…” – I was quite pleased and surprised by this, for we all know that the hardest thing about a burgeoning relationship is convincing your new partner’s closest friends that you’re not an utter scumbag “…but,” she continued, “you’re your age and single, never married, no kids, so I guess what I want to know…”
It dawned on me, too late that, that wasn’t really going to be one of those “Gosh you’re so great” conversations, she was going somewhere with it and that somewhere involved a question I probably wasn’t going to like very much. I glanced around for an escape route, but found none.
“….is,” she continued, “what exactly is wrong with you….?”
“Well, if I knew that…” I said, allowing the sentence to tail off mysteriously, to become a semi-sentence, punctuating it with a shrug and a bemused smile.
I was pretty pleased with the way I dodged that particular bullet, having turned her question into a rhetorical one without her having any say in the matter. Then, just to let her know that particular thread could be pulled at no further, I quickly stood and added, “It’s my round, what are you drinking?”
Truth be told, I did know how that sentence ended. I knew what “that” was. It was my propensity to say or do something so ludicrously inappropriate as to ensure a second date would definitely not happen.
So. Here we go. Mum, Dad: here come the reasons there have been no grandchildren from my branch of the family tree.
Episode one (of too many).
I am out with some friends in Cardiff. They’re people I know pretty well, because they work and drink in my local pub; when they were working then I was generally sitting at the bar chatting to them, and often when they finished their shift they would join me. Let’s say that we gravitated towards each other, found the company perfectly agreeable, and so it went on.
The upshot of this is that I didn’t really know the people on the peripherals, the ones who only came into their orbit every now and then.
And so it was that I found myself in a different bar with these pub friends and a couple of other people that I didn’t know at all, but who, social chameleon that I am, I got on with.
As it happens, I was getting on with one lady in particular, who I quite fancied, and I thought I was getting reciprocal good vibes back from. I’ll not divulge her name, not for any ‘protecting the innocent’ reason, but because this many years after the event, I simply can’t remember it. Which sounds outrageous, but it isn’t: I’m pretty sure my brain has blocked me from recalling it, just in case.
So we’re sitting chatting, getting on very well, and all my friends are doing that thing where they flash you knowing looks from out of her line of vision every now and again.
We do the whole chit-chat thing – Are you from round here? What do you do for a living? Any brothers/sisters? You know the kind of thing – and this lady offers me these words in response to one of those questions:
“I’m a police officer.”
Now I thought I did quite a good job of disguising the startled look on my face, but she picked up on it.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t got my tazer gun with me tonight!” she breezed cheerily.
I afforded a smile, because that wasn’t what I was thinking. No, what I was thinking was that I must be carful not to inadvertently use any uncomplimentary references to the police as being The Pigs, The Filth, The Scum, or whatever.
Not that they are terms I would use under normal circumstances, but when you find yourself in a situation where you really shouldn’t say something, in my experience the temptation to do the exact opposite becomes almost irrisistable.
Tourette’s Syndrome is a condition with many levels, one of which is the inability to resist saying the most inappropriate thing in moments of social awkwardness. Often I think I have a much milder version, where the inappropriate thing pops into my head, but I just about manage to stop myself from blurting it out.
And resist I did; on this occasion I disguised my condition by telling her she certainly didn’t look like a police officer – meant as a compliment, and, I think, taken as one – but asked if it was okay to imagine her in the uniform. Flirting, I think it’s called, if a little over the line marked “Cheesy”. Ok, along way over.
This large slice of fromage didn’t deter her, and we chatted on for quite a while, to the point where we were practically separate from the rest of the group, not engaging with them at all, just engrossed in each other. We became such a satellite of the main group that we started up our own round of drinks, just me and her.
After a while, I had to excuse myself and visit the Gents. And that’s where things began to unravel.
I may have mentioned this before, but when I reach a certain level of pissed-ness – and I’ve always figured it was my body’s way of telling me to slow down – I sneeze.
Thirteen times.
In a row.
And my sneezes are not your discreet a-tish-oo-s but a loud blunderbus of an expulsion
I had made it known to some of my buddies that this is something that happens to me, hoping to generate some sympathy by embellishing it with the phrase “allergic to alcohol”, but instead their reaction was often to start betting on how many times I would sneeze this time.
On one night out, with a different group of friends, a sneezing fit commenced and they started putting money down. When the sneezes fizzled out after five or six, a pepper shaker was commandeered by whoever had bet on 13 being the winning number, and a line was chopped out on the table in front of me, which I duly snorted.
To no effect.
Except the next morning, I woke up with a woozy head, wondering why my nose felt like it was on fire.
But not this time, for this time I was in the Gents when the sneeze-fit struck. So I should be okay, right? Just stay in there until the phase had passed.
Except….one of the sneezes was so head-joltingly violent, that my glasses flew off and smashed on the floor.
I picked them up and, in between the involuntary spasms which continued, I examined them. Nope, they were beyond temporary repair.
I returned to a slightly blurrier bar, and to my seat. The young lady to whom I had provided such irresistably engaging company before my visit noticed the difference in my appearance, and asked what had happened to my glasses. I explained and we laughed it off. Result, thought I. Hurdle succesfully negotiated.
And then she asked me this: “And do I still look good without your glasses on?”
And before I had chance to properly engage my brain, I heard myself say the following words:
“Oh no. You still look like a pig to me.”
We all left the bar shortly afterwards; in the interim we didn’t exchange a single word, and I don’t really think I can put that down to her not fancying me without my glasses on.
I never saw her again, even when I got a new pair of glasses.
A History of Dubious Taste 