Yeah I'm up at Brooklyn, now I'm down in Tribeca

Someone I know has started a project for the year where he is taking a picture every day as documentation of his year. It's such a great idea and I am very jealous that I didn't think of it.

So, it got me thinking that maybe I need some kind of project. And then it hit me. I have too many books (it pains me to say it, but it is true); and not only that, my bookshelves have far too many books on them that I have had for years, but not *yet read. Instead, I buy new ones and read them.

So my project for the year is to pick a book randomly from my shelves each month that I haven't yet read, and read it.

This month's book will be (drum roll, s'il vous plait):



*The yet is pertinent. I am a great believer in that just because you don't read a book immediately, it doesn't mean that you don't want to read it.

Take it hip to hip rocket through the wilderness

Number seven of an occasional series.

This is one of my favourite songs ever. It holds a rare position of, whenever I hear it, bringing me out in goosebumps and making me grin like a maniac. It is also impossible not to sing along to it, usually at high volume.

What makes it so good? Well, I'd have thought merely listening to it would make that patently obvious, but here goes. The harmonies are gorgeous (sadly with this live version, you don't get the lovely bit at the start), the tune infectious and the lyrics make me want to go places.

Best of all? It's not Loveshack. Now, I know the B52s are much much more than Cosmic Thing, but there are plenty of people who only know Loveshack. I don't mind it that much, but this is miles better. The only criticism of it is that you don't get enough of the fabulous Fred Schneider (although the two women are amazing anyway, and quite the inspiration)

Jigsaw falling into place, there is nothing to explain

I got an awesome jigsaw for Christmas.



But I am not allowed to start it until I finish the one I am currently doing.


And it is really hard.

I heard somebody whisper please adore me

My friend Zoe took this gorgeous picture of the Blue Moon on New Years Eve. Isn't it fabulous? I am sad that I didn't realise there was going to be one until after the event, so I missed seeing it live.

But this picture helps to make up for it.

Music makes the people come together.

And a very Happy New Year to all.

The new year is always heralded in by darts for me, and I was as enthralled by it this year as ever. And the walk-ons are always good for a laugh. I see that snooker has followed suit and introduced walk-on music at the Masters (hooray for Selby beating O'Sullivan as well). But I'm not really sure that it works. For a start, the final aside, the walk-ons were far too short for the music to get going, so it kind of lost the point. Some of the players seemed quite up for it, but some just looked like they thought it was the worst idea ever. Here's an example of someone who seems to embrace it, but I'm not really sure if that is a good thing or not.





I don't know it if is part of Barry Hearn's new ideas for rejuvenating the game, or whether it was an idea for the Masters - I can't quite see it working at the Crucible, especially not when there are 2 tables. Can you imagine - a player lining up the black for a 147 and suddenly Don't Stop Believin' fills the arena?

I remain to be convinced. But maybe that would all change if only someone would come on to Snooker Loopy.

Autumn leaves lie thick and still

Interesting.

Perhaps it is as simple as "because it's awesome"?

Caligula would have blushed

Warning, if you have any musical taste whatsoever, this might be painful.

Still want read on?

The NME published this today. It probably doesn't need much comment. In some ways I am surprised that some of the more recent X-Factor efforts haven't made it on there, but perhaps we should be thankful for small mercies.

However, it is a pathetic list. Kylie aside, there really is hardly a decent pop song on there. In fact, let's not beat about the bush. There isn't. I'm not expecting it to be a list of songs that I really like - best-selling, after all, doesn't necessarily mean good and I have exquisite taste, after all. But even supposing, there have been some great pop songs released in this decade which don't feature. Where's Toxic or Crazy in Love for example. It's even more surprising given the fact that you only have to sell about 2 records to get to number one these days. The thing about this list as well is that it isn't subjective in any way - these are the records that have sold the most. There isn't any debate about it. That is why it is even more depressing.

I'd love to believe the whole "oh it is because the kids are downloading and sharing these days, rather than buying", but I'm not sure I believe it.

I'm officially depressed.

Hide on the promenade, etch a postcard

As I dozed through the Archers omnibus (ah blissful Sunday mornings), and awoke properly to the strains of Barwick Green, I did hear the announcer say "and Kirsty Young's guest on Desert Island Discs this morning is Morrissey".

I wasn't sure for a moment, but not my ears were not deceiving me. It was true. And it meant for the first time probably since George Michael was on, I could listen with a genuine interest in what he had to say and, more importantly, what records he chose. I'm not a fan, particularly, but I find him a very interesting man.

It still seems kind of odd that he was on, but he was really very funny and most of the time, Kirsty Young seemed unsure of whether he was being serious or not.

If you haven't heard it, you can get it on iPlayer. It's worth it.

Promise me baby you won't let them find us

Covers of songs can be items of wonder. They can also be lazy ways of securing a big hit for a band. Your audience are already aware of it, even subconsciously - someone else has done the hard work. However, get it right and it can be a marvel. Some improve on the original; some just try and do something a little bit different; some might just be a bit of a rehash - that's not necessarily wrong. It depends if you do it well or not. A lot might depend upon whether or not you have heard the original or not. I remember years ago buying Paul Young's debut album and on it he covers Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division. Being a young naive whippersnapper at the time, I didn't know any better and thought it was a cool song. And vaguely wondered by lots of people writing in the "serious music press" (which I was just beginning to flirt with) were appalled and aghast at his cover. Fast forward a couple of years and I soon got what they meant. Not saying that some songs are sacrosanct, but yeah some are.

One of my favourite covers is Sonic Youth's version of Superstar by the Carpenters. (OK technically not true, since the Carpenters didn't do the original, but I think theirs is the definitive version). I love the Carpenters version, even though, given the right (or perhaps wrong) amount of alcohol it can make me cry. However, the Sonic Youth version blows me away. I bought the Juno soundtrack purely to get my hands on it (yes, I know I could have bought a download, but sometimes you just want to hold something in your hot little hands). I don't know whether it's the fact that it's a male vocal, which subverts it slightly, or whether it is because although there is undoubtedly lots of noisy swirly (technical music term) and it builds up nicely, they resist the urge to do the obvious and turn it into a full on noisefest. Whatever it is, it is awesome.

Hold me now It's hard for me to say I'm sorry

Except it really isn't. Or at least, that is the way it seems to me.

In the last few days we've had Cameron and Brown apologising for having their photos taken at the Remembrance Day service. Now, call me stupid, but is that really so bad? Isn't this what happens with politicians? They get photographed at things? Surely there are worse crimes. And we've also had Katie Price apologising to the nation for the way she has been behaving for the past 7 months. I really don't care - it has nothing at all to do with me. Or anyone really, except her immediate family and friends. Why the rest of the nation?

Like when Bill Clinton apologised during the whole Monica Lewinsky scandal. My only problem with the whole thing was that he fibbed, because it was disappointing and gave his detractors even more ammunition against him. I didn't especially care whether he had been unfaithful. As far as I was concerned, it was a matter for him and his wife and perhaps daughter. It made no difference to whether he was a good president or not.

I don't often agree with Ann Widdicome, but at the height of the expenses furore, she summed it up rather aptly as having the potential of turning into a "my shirt is hairier than yours" competition. Spot on. Rather than stop to think about how maybe saying that something is "within the rules" is missing the point somewhat, even if technically true, the obsession seems to be with saying sorry. It's like a competition of who can be the most sorry. "I'm sorry". "No, I'm sorry". "Well, I'm sorrier". "No, sorry, you are wrong, I am the sorry one". It's even worse when you get one person apologising on behalf of hundreds of other people. "We're sorry, we know it is wrong....blah blah blah".

Don't get me wrong. There is a place for a sincere apology. When you've done something wrong, it is only right that you should apologise. But this mania for apologising now, well, it's all getting to be a bit too much and when it happens that often, it can begin to sound , dare I say, ever just a little bit fake. We seem to be a nation hooked on apologising. I find it all just a bit depressing.

Sorry.

I met the devil in a dark white room Said she was up for me to play the fool

I bought 3 CDs this week. I shouldn't have. But I don't care.

I bought Them Crooked Vultures, Spinnerette and Sweethead (oh, they are all eponymously titled - hmmm. lazy), and what a triumvirate. I don't think I've ever bought 3 albums at once that have been so spectacularly good. I'd normally shy away from multiple purchases as one will inevitably suffer in comparison with the others.

Not so far. I bought Them Crooked Vultures to see such a supergroup would sound like (I love the Foo Fighters and QOTSA, really don't like Led Zep); Spinnerette probably too (although I had heard Ghetto Love and loved it, so I did have a sound musical reason)was because I think Brody Dalle is cool and I had heard one of the singles and liked it; Sweethead I saw supporting The Eagles of Death Metal a few weeks ago, and I thought they were awesome (in spite of not being to hear the vocals - the O2 arena here (or whatever the hell it is called now) is renowned for bad sound).

This isn't going to be any in depth critique of the music, but I am loving the albums. The Spinnerette one today has been particularly occupying my time (the term chain-listening could apply here). It opens with a kind of My Sharona for the new generation, with a rasping hey that was missing from the Knack's song. Song of the moment is Geeking tho, which once it finishes makes me want to hit the back button so I can listen to it all over again.

I want to be Brody Dalle.

Slow change may pull us apart

Where has all the time gone? I cannot believe how long it has been since I blogged. I can only apologize to you, dear readers, and promise that I won't leave you for so long again.

What a summer it has been in terms of people dying before their time. I know it happens every year, probably every day in the real world. But I'm talking about famous people, people that you didn't know, but touched or informed your lives in some way.

It's different when you are young. I can remember when Elvis died, because when the newsreader announced it, my mum was standing in the doorway to our kitchen and she started crying. I never liked the newsreader after that but I wasn't shocked. He was in his 40s. That seemed old to me.

I remember when John Lennon died. I knew my parents liked the Beatles, so I ran and told them. I recall being vaguely shocked, but then again., I probably thought he was old.

I remember being properly shocked when River Phoenix died. He wasn't much older than me - he was young! My generation.

The worst was when Kurt Cobain died. I was in a flat in Glasgow watching the news when the newsreader said "A body has been found at the home of the lead singer of the rock group Nirvana's ..." We knew before he said anymore that this wasn't going to have a happy ending. And one of the things I remember most was that he pronounce the band's name as "near-vana". I think I might have cried for about 3 days, especially when BBC2 showed the Unplugged. And I wore my Kurt Cobain t-shirt to my first exam.


That's why this summer was interesting in terms of my reaction to the highest profile celebrity deaths. Michael Jackson died while I was on holiday, and when I was told that he had died, I didn't believe it initially - I thought it was a wind up. So, I was shocked and felt sad enough about it because it was unexpected and he wasn't that old, but it didn't really affect me. I'd never been a fan as such.

It was different when I heard John Hughes was dead. A friend said to me that she was more bummed about John Hughes dying than Michael Jackson and I totally agree with this. I hadn't probably thought about him in years, and probably hadn't seen any of his films in years (in terms of new ones). I'm not sure I could name any. But some of the films he directed or produced in the 1980s informed my film tastes quite profoundly. The Breakfast Club is a great film. I loved it when it came out and I still do. It stands up as a great film, even when you aren't the same age as the characters in it. (There may be a sight element of understanding where the teacher is coming from which was missing when I first watched it. And the scene where Emilio Estevez's character screams and the glass breaks stops it from being a truly awesome film. But this is a blog entry in its own right).

And then Patrick Swayze died. Of them all, this was the most expected. But it was still a shock and it brought me out in goosebumps when I heard it. Now, Dirty Dancing which is arguably his most famous film, was a rite-of-passage for so many women my age. They obsessed over it. Not me. I hated it when it came out and wrote a scathing review of it for the school magazine (I was a goth at the time, what would you expect really). I did however love Point Break. So for me he was always Bodhi rather than Jonny. But no matter. I've since watched Dirty Dancing and come to appreciate the sheer grace of the man. I also recently watched the Outsiders for the first time since I was about 15. I'd forgotten how heartbreaking the film was in the first instance (how I am not sure, I must have just blocked it all out), and it was all the more poignant since Swayze was so utterly young and handsome in it, and it really isn't that old a film. I felt really sad about it.

I've been thinking about all of this a lot, but I am not really sure how to end.


Stay golden.

You move much like a go-go dancer. Scorpio or maybe Cancer.

I was having a very interesting conversation last night about horoscopes. It was with someone who, it is fair to say, is an arch sceptic. Well, that's probably not fair at all - she'd probably put it in much stronger terms.

I'm quite fascinated by the whole thing, but healthily so. I think I manifest most of the traits of my starsign, and I am quite happy to. I read my horoscopes and marvel when they seem accurate, ignore them when they don't, get vaguely excited if something good is going to happen... You get the picture.

But she came up with an interesting point. One sign often has people doing a sharp intake of breath, and that is Scorpio. Rightly or wrongly, they have a bit of a reputation. There must be positive qualities attributed to the sign, but I had to confess that I didn't know what they were supposed to be. So her question was: are Scorpios happy to be Scorpios?

I don't know the answer. The two friends I have who are Scorpios (and who I hasten to add are very lovely people) I can't imagine being in the least bit interested, and that's putting it politely.

But there must be some Scorpios out there who are loud and proud about it.

Surely?

I love you for what I am not I do not want what I have got

I'm back!

This is an interesting story. Well, when I say interesting, I suppose what I really mean is bemusing. I'm not really sure that I see the point of it. I'm probably showing my age now, but I remember watching the Chart Show (in the proper olden days when it was on Channel 4 on a Friday) and getting all excited when the featured chart was the Indie Chart. I wanted the Sisters, or the Mission, or Gaye Bykers on Acid, but I also knew that I ran the risk of seeing Erasure or Kylie, since they were on an indie label. That's always been the problem - you've got indie the genre up against indie the designation. And that that was part of the thrill - you didn't know what you were going to get. Although if Depeche Mode had a single out, you could guarantee they would be at the top.

In spite of vowing when I was a teenager that I would always be interested in the charts, I'm not really anymore. I'm still as obsessed by music as ever as I was, but I don't pay much if any attention to the charts. Not in some too cool for school way, but just because there is a whole load of rubbish in there nowadays. Now I really am showing my age. But the difference seems to be that you have to sell about 3 records (or should I say units) these days to get in to the Top 40, and about 12 to get a number one. I remember the days when going straight in at number 1 was a phenomenal achievement. Now, it seems that if you don't, you're a flop.

Anyway, I digress. I still don't see the point of having 2 indie charts. One for artists who have not yet reached the "normal" top 20, and one for those that have (but also those who haven't??), presumably, but aren't signed to one of the 4 big labels. Does it really matter whether a band have reached the top 20 or not? And will getting to feature in their own special chart particularly help them make the big time? Perhaps it will. Maybe someone who wasn't interested in Bon Iver (to use one of the BBC's examples) will be, because of their position in the Independent Breakers chart.

But aren't indie bands in it for the music and not interested in chart positions?

Aren't they?

Television dreams of tomorrow

I have become somewhat fascinated by American Idol, much to my chagrin. I blame it on the fact the ITV2 run repeats of it all the time over the weekend, so you catch it at some point and then it sucks you in. In general I disapprove of these type of shows wholeheartedly - people getting record deals on the back of a public vote on TV, when some musicians who are supremely talented have to struggle for years. And the kind of music that I like isn't represented in any case. It's populist nonsense - the Man write large.

But still, all this aside, I have become absolutely fascinated by it. I have to decide on a Thursday whether or not to check to see who has been voted off (the main show airs in the US on a Tuesday and then the results show is on the Wednesday, but the corresponding shows don't air in the UK until Wednesday and Thursday respectively). Usually, I can't resist the urge.

I love watching it. Listening to the judges rambling on about "artistry" or "pitchiness" or saying "you know I love you, but I didn't love that song choice for you", or counting how many times Randy Jackson says "yo" or "check it out" (I read somewhere that the more times he says it before beginning his critique, the more he liked the performance, and that if you only get a "Yo baby", you should be very afraid". Interestingly, Simon Cowell's comments are still the ones that seem to mean the most to people - it doesn't seem to matter if the other 3 love you; if Simon ain't so keen, the face falls a bit.

They have free voting too, within the US, and as a result, a phenomenal number of votes are cast; I think last week something like 65 million people voted. I wonder if they charged like they do in this country whether quite so many people would vote. I am guessing not... It's quite mind-boggling to think of that many votes being cast - I think that is the point. It's votes cast, rather than people voting. I'll wager that a lot of people might be voting more than once.

The contestants all seem to be so much better than any of the contestants on British equivalents. Mind you, some of them have been appearing on stage and some of them have even released records, albeit ones that didn't sell that many (however few records they sold, it would still be more than my record).

Last week, the last remaining girl in the competition was eliminated. She was really good - she was only just 17, but she could rock that stage. It was a shame she had to go, but she went with a bang. Tonight it is down to the Top Three, and they are pretty different types of performer. There is Kris, who is terribly cute and plays guitar and has a rather sweet voice; there is Danny, who is kind of a white soul boy (Simon Cowell described him as sounding like Michael McDonald one week, which seemed pretty spot on), and who has been much ridiculed during the last week for a rather unfortunate attempt at hitting the high note at the end of Dream On, which came off more as a rather blood-curdling scream; and there is Adam, who is a little bit goth, a little bit emo, wears guyliner and nail varnish, has a very good voice and has grabbed most of the attention. Smart money would be on Danny and Adam making the final, but you just never know.

I can't really believe that I am so interested.

One thing that is possibly even more fascinating than the competition itself is dipping into some of the forums and discussion boards. They are crazy places. You get these Appreciation Threads where the users discuss the ins and outs of their favourites ad infinitum and in minute detail. And alongside that flies the vitriol. It can be quite scary how high the feelings run. One person's "Most Amazing Performance Ever" is the next person's "It Was So Horrible I Had To Mute The Sound". And then you get arguments as to whether one contestant is smug or not. Reading them, you realise that is all depends on your attitude to the person. If you don't really rate them or like them, then a smile can be smug; if you like the person, the exact same smile becomes too cute for words. Or one person's amazingly original interpretation is another's car crash moment.

It is endlessly fascinating.

Oh yeah, and Ryan Seacrest is quite cute.

What's on your conscience nothing happens in my town

Whilst out dog-walking with a friend one Saturday evening recently, our meandering took us alongside a river, and as we were walking along the path, we walked under a bridge, the flyover kind. There was inevitably some graffiti and I made some disparaging comments about how I didn't really get graffiti and how I couldn't see it as urban art, even if some people do, etc, etc. However, I soon changed my mind, as I came upon some more, which you can see above and to the left. Clearly I am a sucker for something cute, which this obviously is, but there was also a bit more to it than that. It was accompanied by a message about how migration is not a crime, and given Paddington's epic journey from Darkest Peru to West London, it seemed rather apt.

Begin the day With a friendly voice A companion, unobtrusive Plays that song thats so elusive

So, finally I went to see I Love You, Man, and finally I post my review...

Well, I loved it. It made me cry with laughter in places (and it was Paul Rudd who made me do this, just so you know). It was simply a funny film, which is all you can really ask for from a comedy.The premise is that Peter (Paul Rudd) is getting married and observes that while he hangs around with his fiancee and her friends, he doesn't really have any male friends of his own, in the same way. A series of man-dates ensue and enter Sydney (Mr Segel) - and a grabbing of my friend's leg into the bargain. I was thinking that it wouldn't necessarily have anything to say about the human condition, but actually, I think it does have something quite interesting to say about the nature of friendship, particularly the difference between male and female friendships.

It was hilarious to see Peter's attempts at bro-speak, and it highlighted that there is a fine line between innovative, funny dialogue and ridiculous nonsense. The whole film is actually really interesting, from a linguistic point of view - a comment that was also made on Front Row, so this isn't just me trying to intellectualise my Segel-love.

One bit that was slightly annoying was that Sydney refused to scoop his dog's poop. Now, leave aside the fact that in real life this is something I find morally reprehensible. It didn't really seem to fit in with the character. I think it was there purely as a device so that a scene where he teaches Peter to scream could happen. I'll forgive them this, because that scene is very funny.

A friend of mine saw the film a good few weeks before me, and said that he liked it well-enough but that it wasn't as funny as Forgetting Sarah Marshall.... Well, whisper it, I thought it was funnier, in a laugh-out-loud way than Forgetting Sarah Marshall, thereby proving that I don't need to see the Seagull Junk, as this same friend put it, to enjoy one of his films.

The saints are coming, the saints are coming

I am long overdue my review of I Love You, Man, but today other things had to take precedence. I speak, of course, of the day's top sporting news of St Johnstone being promoted to the Scottish Premier Division (although it is hardly an in-depth analysis), after far too many years away. I got a perplexing text from my mum, about 3 minutes before the final whistle sounded, saying "St Johnstone have won the Cup. Wow". The confusion arose because my dad had advised her that he might be late home for dinner "if we win, they'll present us with the cup". Of course, he as referring to the cup presented to us as First Division Champions. However, I was more worried by the fact that the game hadn't ended. We may have been 3-1 up, and Partick may have been 1-0 down, but as a Saints fan, you never take anything for granted, exemplified by the catastrophe of 2 years ago, when we missed out on promotion due to a Gretna goal in injury time.

Some more silverware in the trophy cabinet and the chance to play in the top-flight next season. Of course, this will undoubtedly led to a much more stressful season than normal (and Saints do a very good line in making their fans sweat), but it'll be worth it. And not matter how hard it can be, I wouldn't swap them for anything.

After a chat with my dad on the telephone (involving singing down the line from both of us and him telling me that the strains of "We hate Dundee, we hate Dundee" were reverberating around the stadium with about 20 minutes to go), he decided that he was going to crack open the wine that evening, to toast the victory. As this sounded like a splendid idea, I decided to do the same. I went to the supermarket, picked one of those small individual-portion (does wine come in portions?) bottles, and proceeded to the self-service scanner.

Inevitably there was some problem, and the supervisor had to approve it. He said to me "Can I see your ID" and then looked at me and began apologising profusely, and told me to carry on. Now, I know that I might not look under 21, but did he really have to sound quite so mortified.

Break me you covetous creature

I'm getting quite obsessed with tote bags, and I really want to add this one to my collection.

If it was in purple, it would be even better.

All i'm saying pretty baby, la la love you, don't mean maybe

Countdown is progressing. Release date in the UK is tomorrow, and I heard a pretty positive review of it on Front Row of all places (apparently the language is really great). And in spite of missing Jason on the red carpet because I was too engrossed in my gym workout, I'm all set.

Bring on the bromance.