The Guff of Vapidity

Today, I was almost killed by Richard Herring.

I was at the wheel of a moving automobile when through the mesh of my speakers came an unexpected reference to Quantum Leap. I can’t really explain why I found this quite as funny as I did, but the force and depth of the laugh this joke drew from me turned my arms to lead and blurred my vision. Luckily the route I take in to work is so familiar unto me that I am able to take it masterfully even in my comedy-weakened state.

AIOTM is a strange beast, and I am particularly drawn to the occasional awkward pause. A notable pause in the most recent release, number 7 I believe, came after a joke where AIOTM was described as “the longest suicide note ever”, lending the comment a, hopefully accidental, feel of hopelessness and desperation. Which amused me greatly.

I’m dragging this out as I have nothing in particular to discuss, as my creative attention is still very much taken up by the radio. A cycle of preparing-performing-editing has begun, and as of today I have finished editing last weekend’s shows, meaning it is already time to be looking toward next weekend. I figure this cycle of single-minded creativity probably isn’t wholly healthy, but there we are. I am still pleased with the state of affairs, satisfied with a consistent goal of my own choosing. And also there are much laugh to be had, which is always a good thing, no?

I am purposefully attempting to be needlessly flowery and purple in order to flesh out this entry, which is essentially vapid guff, which I feel I should probably apologise for, but at the same time I am simply gushing this out stream of consciousness in order to pass some time, and distract myself from everything banal and mundane that pesters and whinges for my attention. Ironically, an attempt to escape from banality has merely produced this piece of extended banal bumph. What I have discovered is that, in the wrong hands, irony is unamusing.

I have spent this week so far editing the radio show, branching out musically and listening to mellow Malian Salif Keita, as well as reading The Importance of Being Earnest. Pro-active creativity, world music and Oscar Wilde, I am incredibly cultured now and I would like a badge to prove it please.

The Observer music countdown where I first heard of Salif Keita, whose album Moffou was judged to be the 8th greatest album of the decade, has since let me down, as I have now discovered they believe the 7th greatest album to be The White Stripes’ Elephant. This, coincidentally, is the only White Stripes album I own, having bought it using gift vouchers I won for something or other, probably attendance (good), while still in school. It is one of my least favourite albums, one of the few that I own that I genuinely dislike. It has a place alongside Eminem’s The Marshall Mathers EP (a gift from a friend) and Good Charlotte’s The Young and The Hopeless (to my embarrassment, I must admit that I purchased that of my own free will, with quite a lot of excitement if I remember correctly) in my ‘Albums I am embarrassed to own’ category. I also have Madonna’s Beautiful Stranger and the New Radicals’ You Only Get What You Give, but they are singles and don’t count (and they are also good).

I know this as I recently trawled my album collection in order to harvest tracks to play on the radio. The only track that made it onto my playlists from an embarrassing album was an Avril Lavigne track titled Naked, which is only on there so that I can follow it with the weak one-liner “That was Avril Lavigne naked”.

I am such a genius, I despair of myself.

Top Ten, or perhaps, Stop Ten.

The only changes in the Top Ten this week are small jostlings by last week’s 10, so rather than any ‘interesting’ new entries we have a new number one, but it has been in the 10 anyway and I have already said what I have to say about it. The track is inane, though that should go without saying, since it is in the list at all.

So, rather than another entry full of party-pooping posing as criticism, I will talk about some music that I like, hopefully making some valid, or at least interesting, points along the way.

Better than listening to tracks on your music playing device of choice, it is, surely, always preferable to experience them live. I took this to be a firm and understood truth, however, having recently attended a live event, it turns out that a very many people disagree. This became apparent due to the disheartening lack of people in the audience. Standing at the front of a handful of people watching a 4-man punk outfit play to a completely still room ranks among the music-tragedies of recent years. Yes, more tragic than the death of that Jackson bloke, whoever he was.

Perhaps the popularity of pop music means that people are less likely to come to live events, for, as everyone knows, pop music cannot be performed live, as in that context, pop music sounds even more like the gutter-drivel it is, since it is more difficult to cover the inherent arse-puddle of noise with futuristic / 80s whoops and whirls. Or maybe people just don’t think music is real music unless Simon Cowell is there to bestow the mantle of goodness upon it. If you are one of the people who believe in the ‘brilliance’ of the Got Talent / Factor / Idol format then you are a bell end, and I suggest you retreat into your proverbial foreskin before you are crunched on by the unforgiving teeth of the revengeful hooker of actual music.

I understand that it is perhaps counter-productive to describe, what I think is, good music as a hooker, especially since I am now going to talk about bands I think are good, who may believe I am calling them hookers. I am not. They are awesome. The bands, not hookers. Do hookers read blogs? Answers on a postcard please.

Luckily for live music, the night I was describing previously was merely slow getting going, and having to compete with two festivals in the city (Cardiff) it is perhaps amazing that there was such a crowd at all. The second band to take the stage was Cardiff-based ska wonders Dirty Revolution. The crowd began swelling even as the stage was being prepped, suggesting that they are already in possession of a dedicated fan-base. Their set was filled with fun skank-along tunes that were hugely enjoyable as well catchy. After all, there’s no good having a tune in your head if it is going to drive you insane. You know who you are, Beyonk.

On top of the catchy tunes the lyrics and vocal melodies were clever and well crafted, which is, unfortunately, a novelty in modern music, or maybe I am just a pretentious snob. I am, but I am also correct. Always.

The most miraculous effect of Dirty Revolution was their ability to get the room dancing, especially bearing in mind that the room was, at best, sparsely populated, this was truly a colossal achievement. Perhaps it was their novel use of what I must assume is some kind of melodica-esque device which is used occasionally in the stead of a more traditional horn-section. Oddly, for a device that looks for all the world like a toy, the sound carries clearly and adds immensely to the proceedings. Basically, if you enjoy bands on the reggae / ska / punk spectrum, give them a listen on their page, or, better still, go and see them live.

We’ll move on now to a band that I have not seen live, but that has managed, over time, to enmesh itself more completely in my psyche. This particular band is the extremely difficult to find Bôa, who are not helped by the abundance of other acts named Boa. These include; BoA, a Korean singer; BOA, a Croatian group; Boa, a Russian group; and Phillip Boa, a German musician. I am not talking about these. I am talking about the criminally undervalued British indie-rock group Bôa. Annoyingly, I am unable to discover a website or a MySpace site of theirs, so I am going to have to resort to other methods. Bôa are best known for their song Duvet, due to it being used as the opening theme for the anime Serial Experiments Lain, which is worthy of the song. However, this song, and the acoustic version, is where the widespread appreciation of Bôa stops, which, in my sensationalist mind, is an unforgivable shame. I spent a long time scouring around for their two better-publicised / most recent albums Get There and Twilight, one of which (Get There) has now been put up on iTunes. In order to find it you’ll have to type in ‘boa uk’ rather than using the bands actual spelling, which doesn’t help with the confusion.

Bôa are the gods of bluesy indie rock in my world, and it is a pity they aren’t more widely appreciated. Wikipedia, for what it is worth, puts their 'years active' as 1993 – present, which suggests that I still may get to see them live at some point, but my hope at the moment must be that they are on hiatus, rather than split up. I fear the day where I will have to refer to them as the now-defunct Bôa. Their lead singer, Jasmine Rodgers, seems to be focusing on a solo-acoustic project, which is also well worth a listen.

I have mentioned The Cribs before, who, by now, almost go without mentioning, and have a new album pending, which I am awaiting eagerly. I was also planning on talking about Polkadot Cadaver, and their previous incarnation Dog Fashion Disco, but I will leave this entry to the two British bands, rather than inundate a single blog with too many positive vibes.

Find below, the ‘Top Ten’ as it stands this week. Needless to say, not a single track can hold a candle to either Dirty Revolution or Bôa*.

10 – Poppiholla – Chicane

9 – When Love Takes Over – David Guetta ft Kelly Rowland

8 – Paparazzi – Lady Gaga

7 – Bulletproof – La Roux

6 – Sweet Dreams – Beyonce

5 – Evacuate the Dancefloor – Cascada

4 – I Know You Want Me (Calle Ocho) – Pitbull

3 – Supernova – Mr Hudson ft Kanye West

2 – Beat Again – JLS

1 – I Gotta Feeling – Black Eyed Peas

*In my opinion. But what other opinion counts? Yours? Not on my page.