What a state

I admit, I’m something of a music snob. Not that I only listen to the one type of music and deem it far superior to anything else available and anyone who listens to anything other than this is an insufferable oaf, but that I feel there are more than a fair share of genres not fit for usage under the umbrella term music.

Apologies, umBERella.

Next time you’re in any shop that has the album chart in it, stop and take it in. Sainsbury’s, for one, has the top 100. Although it doesn’t. You can’t buy Bon Iver in there, despite hi supposedly being at number 40.
Anyway, that’s still a lot of albums (for some people. Yes, more snobbery). Yet nearly every album is a pathetic excuse for noise. Not fit for my money. Listened to by the aforementioned oafs. (tick. More snobbery.)

As you may have read, I don’t like commercial radio. But this encounter with the top 100 made me realise that these purveyors of so-called music actually make albums. That means they have more than one of these pathetic wastes of bang-on three-minutes. That’s, say, eleven predictable key changes. Or eleven uses of the same Boss drum beat. And there are 100s of albums.

Most of the time it’s not even their own rhythm section. Eh, Chris Brown?? Who needs your own when you can steal Calvin Harris’.

Still, he had nothing to do with it. He just entered the words given to him into a note matcher, I should imagine.

You may have noticed I mentioned Calvin Harris. And yes, he’s a dance music-maker. I’m not sure of the official term. But he, like many dance-music-makers, properly makes dance music. It’s complex, clever, requiring of talent and actual ears. Unfortunately for every good’un (he’s not my thing, but I can appreciate it) you have a thousand shit’uns that have more success than most bands that disappear into oblivion.

I would readily admit there aren’t currently many bands suitable for the word greatness, no band will really go on to have the success of a 90’s Oasis. And the All-American Heroes of Brucie, Young, Dylan, Jimi are a thing of mythical history. But there are endless lists of bands worthy of recognition that will forever elude them but to a small few.

I realise music goes in random cycles, anything could be in vogue next week. But with the impact clubbing has had on our whole society it will not do much but a chip into the toenail of the big, bad monster. It’s irreversible. We’re stuck in this pit of electronic, emotion-less, noise.

I’m going to pass my record collections on and they’ll be comparable to nothing more than drawings in a cave. The pictures of today painted by Conor Oberst, the landscapes crafted by Justin Vernon, the bizarreness of Thom Yorke, will be nothing to most in the same way Nick Drake is to most today.

Truly brilliant lyricists are being cast-off into the void for people who can press play.

I fear for the children.

One Death Is A Tragedy…

While I realise the sensitivity relating to the issue, I feel compelled to write about the death of Amy Winehouse. Let me start by offering my condolences to her family, who have, after all, lost a loved one and will be suffering at this time. No death is more or less important than any other, and Amy’s family should receive the respect that they deserve.

However, that whole ‘no death is more or less important than any other’ is something that grates with me right now. In Norway, scores of youths have been brutally massacred through no fault of their own, but their story is playing second-fiddle to the death of an individual.

It truly encapsulates the celebrity-obsessed world we live in that such horrific news gets completely ignored by the majority of people in favour of mourning the loss of someone who was – at the end of the day – a drug addict.

Of course, it is undeniable that Amy Winehouse had talent, and consequently such a loss is quite rightly deemed a ‘waste’. Who is to say, however, that any of the 92 people currently believed to have been murdered in Norway were not equally talented in their own individual way? Why is their loss not deemed as significant to the world as that of someone who acted with such disregard for life so frequently?

Equally, the simple fact is that many of those bandwagon-jumpers bemoaning the loss of a ‘great talent’ are among those who mocked and berated her lifestyle as recently as a matter of weeks ago.

Why is there a peculiar obsession with criticising or even hating people for what they do when they are alive, only for them to almost immediately be catapulted to a standing far beyond their genuine character once they have passed? It may seem utterly insensitive, but why does the death of someone transform opinions so significantly? It not only shows a lack of conviction in personal thought, yet also dishonours the deceased. If you don’t like them when they’re actually living on this earth, don’t patronise their memory by attaching yourselves to them in death please…

It is, in many ways, not dissimilar to the passing of Jade Goody. Initially vilified in the press and public spaces as a ‘brainless racist’, the game changed when she was no longer with us. The media and society as a whole began to hold her up as something of a role model after her sad – and yes, it is sad, because every death is tragic in its own way – death in 2009. I truly do not understand why this was the case with Jade Goody, nor why it will be eventually be the case with Amy Winehouse. If you have an opinion on someone, at least have the bottle to stand by it.

I do not wish to speak ill of the dead, and will freely admit to being much more touched by the passing of Jade Goody than I ever will be by the early departure of Amy Winehouse. This is for one incredibly simple reason. Despite being far from a fan of Miss Goody myself, she was essentially a young woman cruelly struck down by a beast that has ravaged the world and devastated lives without offering any real explanation. Perfectly healthy human beings have suffered at its hands, and any death from cancer must therefore be seen an utter tragedy – including that of Jade Goody – regardless of my personal feelings towards her.

The thing is, with Winehouse, it was different. We don’t know the ins-and-outs at present, but it doesn’t take a genius to work out that the death was almost certainly linked to a series of alcohol and drug-related problems. That is why I struggle to have any sympathy for her, and indeed find myself deploring those who treat her as if she deserved any. It was, ultimately, her choice of lifestyle, and if you play with fire, every now and then you’re going to get burnt.

Of course, there will be many an argument that Amy was a ‘troubled soul’ who had ‘issues’ and ‘needed help’. That is fair enough, but there are still problems with this belief. Firstly, many among us have difficulties in our life, but are intelligent enough to seek the relevant help when required, and do not become dependent on the deadly cocktail of drugs and alcohol. Why, just because she was famous, was Winehouse excused from such activities with a shrug of the shoulders and a declaration that it was ‘part of her image’? It is possible to see why Winehouse fell for such temptations, but the fact remains it was her responsibility. She was a grown woman, and needed to take control of her life. Sadly, she did not, and paid the maximum price.

What I also find incredible is how many ‘celebrity-type’ people noticed she was ‘in trouble’, but how few seemed to make any genuine attempt to help her. To be frank, where were they all when she needed saving? It’s all well and good wittering and twittering about it now, but, ultimately, these supposed friends were nowhere to be seen when it truly mattered.

Again, I don’t wish to belittle the memory of Amy Winehouse, and do accept the many ways in which this can be construed as a tragedy.

However, I would urge people to look at the bigger picture, the bigger issues, and instead spare a thought for those who are more perhaps more deserving. Unlike Winehouse, those involved in the Norway massacre had little or no control over their destiny, and yet it appears many people aren’t all that bothered by it.

It is a very sad demonstration of how immune people have become to ‘bad news’, while celebrity culture dominates in every aspect of life.

His context may have been extremely wrong, but days like this make it hard to look past Joseph Stalin’s claim that “One death is a tragedy; One million is a statistic”.

As these two very separate events show, it is pretty much spot on in terms of how the public view the world…

Festival Fever

So you may have guessed I’m sat in front of the TV watching the dregs of the coverage of the first day of The Open and boring you, rather than getting merry in a damp and soggy field in Suffolk.

But even if I did have money, you wouldn’t get me there this year.

Radio Killed.

Theres a serious, serious problem rocking offices all over the country. It’s horrible.

It will slowly kill each and every one of us. It’s killing me and half the office I work in. I’d bet it’s killing the other Future’sBleak-ers.

What Have You Done?

*Listening to Fionn Regan – Shadow Of An Empire*

If there is one thing that should be regulated by some sort of higher force, it’s the autobiography. It’s getting a bit of a joke now.

N-Dubz have got one now. Seriously. I don’t mean a fan book or annual like those of your youth. An autobiography. From Street Life To Chart Life. 

Riveting, I’m sure.

They’re in their early twenties, what can they really have done to warrant a book? It’s not like they’ll have much wisdom to pass on. And I say this as a fellow early twenties-er.

According to the BBC, it’s a Number Two Bestseller too, which, reading between the lines and correct me if I’m wrong, means people have actually bought it. Who would have thunk it. You do have to be careful what you say about N-Dubz and the unscrupulous Dappy though, especially via text.

It’s equally nonsensical how he gets away with saying to someone “Your gonna die” as it is them having a book out. If I would have received that text, I would have struggled not reply with either simply replying with “*You’re” or possibly with just a “Yes I am, such is the way of Human existence.”

Tout-rageous

*Listening to Titus Andronicus – The Monitor*

Is there anything quite as despicable in the modern world as the internet ticket tout? Of course there is, but for the purpose of this blog post we shall assume that there isn’t.
Yesterday saw tickets for V Festival 2010 and the Flight of the Conchords European tour go on general release, with both events selling out almost as quickly as they went on sale. 24 hours later and 300 V tickets and 100 Conchords tickets are on ebay at an already massively inflated rate.

I have nothing against the reselling of concert tickets; that is, providing the seller has a genuine reason for sale and advertises said tickets for the price that they originally paid.

Take for example: Scarlet Mist. Scarlet Mist is an ethical exchange website that provides an outlet for fans to sell or trade their unwanted tickets for face value. However, being the only half-decent website of its kind I’ve come across, it appears to be alone in its quest to combat the touts.

Decisions, Decisions.

*Listening to Angus and Julia Stone – And The Boys EP*

Today was the day Kings of Leon tickets hit the e-shelves for their big Hyde Park gig. I say today, it was for about 10 seconds. I say hit the e-shelves, I’m not even sure they opened the doors. How do sixty-odd thousand tickets get sold so quickly? And how come I was sat here early and still got about as close to getting a ticket as Roy Keane will to Manager Of The Year? (Actually, most of Norfolk will vote for him at this rate.)

I suppose Virgin Media could take the brunt of my annoyance. When downloading iTunes again the other day it turned out it was actually quicker to walk to California, set up a meeting with Steve Jobs, tell him the iPad is pointless, set up another meeting this time with Steve Wozniak to ask for an iTunes disk and the walk back again. On my hands. Through custard. Carrying Andy Fordham.

Alas today, the internet connection seemed OK, good almost. So now who could I blame?

Twenty-five minutes of unavailable, unavailable, unavailable, the screen finally succumbed to a little red bit of text saying SOLD OUT. I got up at 8.30 for this. On a day off. And I’ve only had one coffee today.

30 Years Of Hurt

*Listening to Envy Corps – Dwell*

If you’re thinking of great UK albums going back to 1980, you’re going to land on some pretty darn special ones. Or you would think so anyway.

The BRIT Awards are celebrating their 30 pointless, zeitgeist-missing years by having a BRITs Album of 30 Years. And what a shocker of a list it is:

                         

                          Coldplay – A Rush of Blood to the Head
                          Dido – No Angel
                          Dire Straits – Brothers in Arms
                          Duffy – Rockferry
                          Keane – Hopes & Fears
                          Oasis – (What’s the Story) Morning Glory?
                          Phil Collins – No Jacket Required
                          Sade – Diamond Life
                          The Verve – Urban Hymns
                          Travis – The Man Who

It’ll Never Last

*Listening to Sigur Rós – Takk*

Well who’d have thunk it? The people spoke and Rage actually got to Number One. After coming close last year, the people of Facebook actually went through with it and defeated Simon Cowell’s latest “prodigy.” Pathetically, this and snow is supposedly worthy of headline news.

I’m behind neither side. I don’t care for chart music, it isn’t aimed at me, I’d rather give my ear drums a succession of slow punctures with a tetanic compass than listen to most of it. The only people who actually buy singles these-days probably have a mean age of around 12. The charts don’t matter to people anymore, I couldn’t tell you who was at number one last week, or the week before. I would probably struggle to land on one this year. When was the last time Radio One was coming from your radio at 7pm on a Sunday?

There It Goes Again

*Listening to Neil Young – Cortez the Killer*

The vile rumour that is forever spouting from the mouths of the supposed people-in-the-know, that CD’s will be extinct in X amount of years, is wrong. Completely. You know how I know? Well my external hard-drive just died, making at least a month’s worth of music inaccessible to me. Luckily, I have towers of CD’s and some records to placate me until the virtual library is back in my arms.

I’m sure those of you who have just paused (is it possible to pause it?) World of Warcraft will inevitably be saying “You should have backed it up.” The reason I have/had the external was to leave a nice and spacious gap in my laptop for most of the other things I might need to do. So why would I have my music library clogging two hard-drives?