If there were two of you which one would win?

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I realise the jukebox jury - even in the Riverside Tavern, most likely - was a bit divided on this album but if I was putting together a 'best of the year' list then this album would be on it, for sure. If only because it was probably the most ambitious and inventive album that I heard during the last twelve months. A glorious combination of post-punky guitars, lush strings and thoughtful lyrics (in North East accents). So, that was me totally sold.
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Field Music - 'Measure' (Live at Rough Trade East, 15-02-10)
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Field Music are here. Buy the album here.
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PS, The answer to the Couplandesque question in the title is neither. We'd both trip over with 10 yards to go. Life. And how to live it, eh?
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Your glass is empty, just like your head

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It was a scene fitting for the mad snow of this late-afternoon day. Outside of Tivoli, on Stockwell Street, a young couple arguing. Furiously. The basis of this public shouting match being her alleged indiscretions with a known rival. The boy was beside himself, clearly caring, utterly drunk. Amongst the rage and swearing, his cheeks were puffy red, tears glistening. The girl was, I sensed, a little unfussed, but certainly not keen to air this private matter in such a public location. It was a confrontation of the heart, fuelled by some kind of 40% proof tipple. He wanted answers. She just wanted off the streets. And my young charges asked me what was going on. I just said to them, I admit somewhat unhelpfully, rather cryptically, 'Sometimes you just know when it's time to say goodbye', and whilst I shuffled them up the road to wee Tesco, I thought of this song - this version of this song - and, well, the couple who were occupying centre-stage, especially him. The boy with the cheeks, the tears and the heart in bits, not scared to let it show.
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Marc Almond and Gene - 'Say hello, wave goodbye' (live on 'The White Room') (5.18)
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Not a sonnet, not a sound

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No prizes or awards, for it is very obvious, but I still get amazed when a random event or chance meeting can trigger a buried memory that relates to a spectacular song. Often a memory that you'd forgotten you had, for reasons of shame, regret, worry or, er, arrest. I was speaking to someone at work earlier today, who I didn't know, and when she said her name was Christine... well, that was me thrown straight back to a little-used bus stop situated on the main street, in the wee town, I was living in almost twenty-five years ago now. It was a Sunday evening, school the next day. She was heading back to the place in the photograph. It was a saying goodbye kind of moment, you know the one, to a girl called Christine. I just didn't like her in the way that she liked me, unfortunately. I had to be bold and just say it. At a bus-stop. And the bus took ages to come and was late. This song still makes me gulp a bit, even after all these years. And now I can remember exactly why - how wonderful. Anyway, this is a haunting version, given the rather frightening whispering of her name just past the minute mark. And the intense moody stares in the desolate South Bank studios. It's all glorious. I did the right thing, by the way, looking back, for both of us... but this song is dedicated to anyone who has ever broken-up with someone at a bus-stop. Where the bus took ages to arrive. Silences and tears. Sigh. And it's also for her, Christine, the girl from my distant teenage years who I now remember again, thanks to a chance meeting and a spectacular song.

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The House of Love - 'Christine' (live) (3.08)

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All things said... this is a pretty great resource whilst this album is an essential purchase.

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In other news.... this wonderful band are playing a wee Christmas show at King Tut's in Glasgow on December 28th. Festive joy! :)

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This bird has flown

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There is an urgent need for some colour today, I think, to brighten things up around here. Sometimes black and white is just too limiting. You can miss some perspective, the fine details, the beauty in the shades and washes. One of the greatest things about this city is all the red sandstone that resides here. Truly, as well as being built on 'rock and roll', Glasgow's construction could not have happened without this vibrant stone, now awash with atmospheric pollutants (pdf) like fly ash and lead and slowly crumbling around our feet. But the ocean-coloured blue birds, on Byres Road, that have left the ground but never seem to land, don't seem to mind that much. They just get on with looking beautiful and being rather special, in this 'silent sigh city'. And if that appears like a rather stretched and tenuous connection to the first single by a wonderful Swedish indiepop band you might not have heard about, then you'll just need to believe me when I say that it isn't. So there. :)
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Happydeadmen - 'Silent sigh city' (4.02)
Happydeadmen - 'Whatever happens' (3.57)
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The Happydeadmen were, unarguably, Sweden's first real glow of indiepop hope back in a time when it was all heavy metal, punk and goth. You can find Happydeadmen (1988-1999) squatting here. Jan Hedin's voice is amazing, the guitars soar sweetly too. And the really great news? Fraction Discs are re-issuing their 1990 album 'Eleven Pop Songs' tomorrow. You can read all about it here (pdf) and download here. It'll be good to hear this record again, at last, without the scratches, jumps and hisses.
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PS, And a Happy Birthday to you, Maggie.x
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I know what you need (that girl is crazy)

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Has it really been so long? Jeezo. This is just to say, especially for those of you lucky enough to be located in North America, that a special 20th Anniversary edition of Hal Hartley's film 'The Unbelievable Truth' has just been released. His writing, directing and music over the last two decades has been an inspiration to many. He is, without exception, the one director making films today that I'd watch anything by, without question or a moment's hesitation. I mean, if he filmed himself brushing his teeth I'd have it on repeat. In my opinion, nobody has written better dialogue scenes about life, love and the sometimes maddening ways we interact and fail to communicate with each other than Hal, especially when they involved Martin and Adrienne. And so, thanks to some neat editing skills, you can bear witness to Hal's twenty years of filmmaking in two minutes. Really. Go DJ Mendal. If Hartley's work is new to you then I hope you enjoy him as much as I have over the years. He deserves medals.

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Hal Hartley - 'Fear of love' (End credits from 'The Unbelievable Truth') (2.32)

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Visit Possible films. Watch this. And this is quite clever, I think. Remembering Adrienne, of course. She was brutally murdered in her apartment on November 1, 2006, just 40 years of age. I remember the day I heard this news. It was like the sun had fallen from the sky. She was the only person who really looked kick-ass great in cowboy boots. x

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'Something dark will happen to them anyway'

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'Strange Powers' (82 minutes) (2010). Directed by Gail O'Hara and Kerthy Fix. Distributed by Variance Films. Featuring Stephin Merritt and The Magnetic Fields.
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Apparently, 'the Cole Porter of his generation', Stephin Merritt, is best known for his 'memorable melodies, lovelorn lyrics and wry musical stylings'. So the post-it note 'plot summary' tells us. And there was silly old me thinking he was just a fucking genius? I mean, I guess the details are important, and the 'melodies, lyrics and stylings' are crucial to his relative success, but in this deeply ironic, and at times painfully revealing, documentary what is thrown at us, the audience, centre-stage, is the beautifully twisted and loving relationship that Stephin has with Claudia Gonson, long-term drums, piano and singing bandmate, and self-sacrificing manager, of The Magnetic Fields. In truth, over the 90 minutes or so, it's a hilarious, captivating and, at times, deeply moving (almost frightening) insight into how Stephin and Claudia rely and depend on one another and what happens when this is tested, due to geographical relocation and other matters. For they do - they need each other. Stephin clearly needs an organiser, and someone to argue creative content and detail with, whilst Claudia needs to feel she is guiding 'talent' (that is, her friend) and thus places her fate and destiny in the hands, largely, of the work and creative output of another. And that other is Stephin. It's a strange watch this film, all told. It's partly factual and chronological, partly stories, anecdotes and extreme sarcasm and 'irony'. I don't think anyone watching this could ever tire of Stephin's dead-pan, comic, delivery of lines that destroy those around him as well as himself, all in the name of not being 'serious'. Or rather, being serious in the futile attempt of not being serious. And yet, oh the paradox, The Magnetic Fields make deadly serious music, as we all know. And Stephin is a serious worker and musician, that comes across very clear (if he can find the right gay bar to hang out in to write his lyrics). Like other members of the audience, I laughed a lot during this screening, in Glasgow as part of the annual Film Festival. Mostly, the laughing was at Stephin's self-deprecation or his piss-taking of those around him, but also it was those moments where his 'audience', in his day-to-day interactions, reacted to his words, ways and... well, his 'strange powers', I guess. His move to LA features heavily in the film, later on, as does the mechanics and process of the magnum opus that was '69 Love Songs' (Merge, 1999). If you are familiar with the work of his band, or Stephin as an individual who is, in equal measures, baffling and charismatic, then you'll enjoy this documentary a lot. If you are new to The Magnetic Fields, or care nothing for them at all, it's still a pretty unique insight into the 'creative process' (gag!) and how random ideas or notes in diaries can turn into bug-eyed monsters, with a series of unfortunate events, indeed, following on. One to watch, for sure. I am a fan. Oh, and a great soundtrack as well, obviously... :)
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The Magnetic Fields - '100,000 fireflies' (3.20)
The Magnetic Fields - 'I don't want to get over you' (2.23)
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The official site for the film is here. You can watch the official trailer here. Oh, this unfortunate event is examined in the film, of course, and is well-worth watching (it's a killer morning telly moment, that may involve you hiding behind the sofa or leaking in below the waist places). And yes, the whole 'Stephin Merritt is a rockist cracker for not liking or listening to hip-hop' thing is not ignored, either. Is he pretentious and a bit up himself? Perhaps. But he is no racist, from what we see in this film, and he has more than enough talent to merit his affectations and sarcastic, literary, mannerisms.
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Nights like these will be the death of us

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Butcher Boy @ Offshore Cafe, Glasgow, 20-11-10
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You will need to have some faith here, I'm afraid, but it's simply impossible to write these few words without sounding like a right smug wee so-and-so. But, really, this is Butcher Boy we are discussing, and... a) they are playing live for the first time in over 18 months, b) new material from the forthcoming third long-player is being aired and c) the venue is a tiny independent cafe in the West End of the city that serves a mean cup of coffee and encourages you to BYOB. In sum, this is just a glorious occasion that leaves you pinching yourself a bit. I mean, even the entrance fee is a slightly ridiculous £2.50. But I am only here, in truth, due to a nod and a wink (and an 'insider' e-mail) from our own JC. So, I will leave it to him to tell you the tale of the evening, in detail, over at his place. Suffice to say, everyone was present for this incredibly intimate, semi-acoustic, performance with the exception of drummer Findlay MacKinnon. So, it was strings, guitars, keys, accordian and more, all working together to recreate some magical moments from both 'Profit in your Poetry' (2007) and 'React or Die' (2009). It was John Blain Hunt's distinctive vocals, and honest, heartfelt lyrics, that first enticed me into the world of Butcher Boy, some years ago now, and the canny way he has of delivering these lines is as soothing as ever this evening (and yes, it was also the handclaps that made me say MOAR!). Robert Spark, on bass, in the absence of drummer Findlay, keeps things moving along sharply, as well as providing a nice hook when called upon. Everyone is on form and game, so it is difficult, as well as unfair, to pick out some elements over others... but, it should be said, there was some delightful accordian playing from Alison Eales and Maya Burman-Roy's cello-playing reminds you of emotions you thought you'd misplaced or lost. Stunning, in the sense you can feel your heart melt as she finds the notes with her bow (and arrows) to finish you off, emotionally. Highlights from the previous releases played tonight would include the ultimate pop singles, 'Carve a pattern' and 'A better ghost' as well as the reflectful 'I could be in love with anyone', which (yet again) causes a few dabbing of eyes amongst the lucky gathered souls. And the new material? Well, it shines as it hits the ceilings (especially when the #44 bus goes past, illuminating the cafe and all inside). It has a warmth that makes the insides of the cafe windows actually sweat. It is cinematic in scope with a widescreen and dolby-enhanced sound and vision. John's lyrics are even more finely crafted and edited to syllable perfection, with tales of local Southside encounters and matters of the heart and mind. 'Helping hands' and 'I am the butcher' leapt off the page, for me, but JC will tell this tale more fully regarding the new material, I am sure, for not only has the lucky gent now witnessed the new material live, he has also had the pleasure of a studio-playback of the new album, back in August. But time is called. It is all over, and it's just a wonderful evening out, in great company, with kindered spirits who all want to see this group of individuals - this band - do the great things we all know they can do when together like this. Doubtless, 2011 will be the year Butcher Boy hit their mark and step-up to (modestly, I am sure, for they are all so bloody nice!) claim the musical crown they so richly deserve. In truth, Butcher Boy just make me so glad I live in this wonderfully hopeful city, and can thus enjoy nights like these that are actually far from being the death of me. These moments give me room to think and ponder, to accept the fact I do love this life. I do love this place, called Glasgow.
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Butcher Boy - 'Every other Saturday' (instrumental) (4.59)
Butcher Boy - 'I could be in love with anyone' (live) (3.02)
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You can find Butcher Boy here and here. You can buy their last album, 'React or Die' (How Does It Feel To Be Loved, 2009) here. They are supporting Belle and Sebastian at the Barrowlands in Glasgow on December 21st (it's a sell-out that night but some tickets are remaining for the Sunday, the 19th) but before then Butcher Boy are playing a wee 'Christmas Fayre' show at the Mitchell Library on the afternoon of the 11th. You must attend, and gather your Christmas goodies!
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So poor and cold in their midwest

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Yes. I know. Many things, perhaps. But always, always, fucking literal. A heart on a sleeve, and all that kinda jazz. It's just the way of it, with me, I'm afraid. A big heart, and a bigger gob. But, you know, this is such a gorgeous song. Hear it out. It almost deserves some further developed, rather more refined, cryptic thinking and qualities. Intellectualised, eh? But not from me, alas. I just can't do that anymore. Not now, not since the TV got burned out. So, just go see them play, and then you'll get it. I'm sure of it. Glasgow tonight, for some. But I have another appointment to keep. One not to be missed.
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Lower Dens - 'Tea Lights' (4.42)
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So, yes, Lower Dens are in Glasgow this evening, you fuck, and then Dublin on the 22nd. They are playing with Beach House. Which makes a lot of fucking sense. Yes it does. They play the Exit/In, Nashville TN, on January 15, with The Walkmen, no less. Am just saying, likesay. The superb album, 'Twin Hand Movement', can be bought here. And I am saying nothing more on that one. Oh no.
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Look out the window, look out at the stars above

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The Scottish Enlightenment (with Deathpodal + Le Reno Amps in support), 13th Note, Glasgow, 18-11-10.
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It's difficult to know where to start with this.... 'not enough handclaps' or 'they all look so young'? Anyway, more of that later. The main event this fine evening was the Glasgow launch of an impressive album by The Scottish Enlightenment, entitled 'St. Thomas' (Armellodie, 2010). So far, reviews from the likes of BBC 6 Music, Song, by Toad and The Scotsman have been very positive and are, indeed, well-deserved. The support came from Deathpodal and Le Reno Amps, familiar names around the Glasgow circuit and both bands clearly have a good local following, given the turnout and enthusiasm for their short sets. Musically, Deathpodal warmed me greatly, with just the right blend of interesting 'nooks and crannies' in their sound, as my late Uncle Johnny might have put it. Their EP, as The Skinny suggests, is one to get hold of. As for Le Reno Amps, their stage presence and humour was exceptional - a real engagement with the audience - and one or two songs (well, specifically, the second-last song of their set, and please excuse my ignorance at not knowing the name of this track) had me tapping toes and, er, trying to handclap. However, for the most part, it just wasn't my kind of music, I'm afraid to say. But then, I am an old man and as JC and Matthew (happy birthday!) discussed, it's music for American college kids or peeps that, perhaps, once liked this band, arguably. As for the main dish? The Scottish Enlightenment take the stage at some point after ten o'clock and although appearing a wee bit nervous and unsure, at first, their sound soon dominates the wee basement bothy that is the Note. At times, down the stairs, it can be a little 'bass muddy' (that is so not a technical term but you get what I mean), but tonight the sound is great and the guitars shine brightly, especially on the slow-burning track that is 'Necromancer'. The new album, as you would expect, is given an appropriate airing and although early on, vocally, a bit reserved, David Moyes soon finds himself and delivers the script with confidence and, well, a rather dead-pan measure. It's a great night, all told, even with the lack of handclaps and feeling far too old to witness such an event (I will get over this, though).
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The Scottish Enlightenment - 'Necromancer' (5.14)
The Scottish Enlightenment - 'The universe is drifting apart' (5.07)
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You can purchase the new album, 'St Thomas' (Armellodie, 2010), from here.
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Footnote: Possibly a not very interesting wee tale this, but... back in 2006 and 2007, I used to play 'The universe in drifting apart' to students at my University in a first year lecture sequence on the origins of contemporary sociology. For no better reason than it's a great song and it felt appropriate to play it when mentioning the likes of David Hume, Adam Smith, Thomas Reid (always mah favourite) and Robert Burns et al. A bit obvious and lame, perhaps, but one should pimp great (local) music at any possible opportunity, I would argue. Just a shame I no longer teach that particular block and am now, instead, pontificating on social identity, of all topics. Pfffft.
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PS, Not so great pictures, I'm afraid... I always find it hard to get right at the Note, given the lighting. 'Crispness' is hard to locate. And I hate using FLASH! at gigs. It is, well, so disruptive.
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Just as if to tell her man, that she can't either

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The nervous girl sat back, her tight shoulders arched, mouth dry, trying to whisper an old Jackson Browne song to herself and a few precious memories. Excitement, anticipation, fading in moments. There was an anxiety showing beneath the politeness, this trying-to-please, hurrying time away. And, meanwhile, the perilous boy, with an unbearable shame and sadness to hide, simply wanted to close the door, with a million things to do concerning everything and nothing. Just something to move beyond this hanging on. To get away. For words seemed stupidly unemployed, in such disquieting circumstances. It was all told in the eyes, that of course, now, never meet. A message was delivered within, as well as between, the shared poor-quality headphones; a translation from Japanese to English, across mutating time zones that spanned centuries. And with arms folded tightly into heartbeat chest, her camouflaged silver lake truth had been spoken, during that early morning light, without the need for... [fade out]
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Dead Can Dance - 'The Ubiquitous Mr Lovegrove' (Live, Den Hagg, 2005)
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Go here. Buy here.
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PS, As a rather curious aside, I'm back on Last FM and Flickr. Wonders never cease, huh? So, come find me, if you would like to, please.
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