Emmy the Great is probably an acquired taste. I don't know that many men who are keen. When you put the album in itunes, it says 'folk'. But she is folk like Patrick Wolf is folk; not really. Personally, I'd call it pop.
Emmy sings really simple but lovely lyrics in a way that Lily Allen could only dream of. And it's because Emmy is clearly not a twat. She's a singer and poet. And she's just very, very honest, even when it's a bit twee, or a bit clunky. And I like that. Plus I very much like her voice.
So finally, the Emmy album. It feels like I've been waiting two years, but it's probably only one. Of course there is always a danger much-loved songs will be ruined 'in the mix' but you can't go too wrong with hers.
Weird to see things like Absentee on the album but no Edward is Deadward, which far superior in my opinion (and both about death). And I guess we should respect her for not bunging on her single Secret Circus, like Mozzy did so callously with All You Need is Me AND That's How People Grow Up. No Canopies and Grapes either. I guess these songs are just too old now, or she's just sick of them.
24 is a bit dreary as well, I prefer her more poppy ones. Sorry! As Simon Cowell would say, whilst resting his thumb on his cheek.
We Almost Had a Baby has a nice waltzy feeling to it, but I prefer Two Steps Forward, it seems stronger lyrically all the way through i.e. 'when love was just a feeling that ran out between my legs/ onto the back of my dress' which is horribly graphic but great. I'd like to have heard a studio version of that.
Oh dear, I don't like Easter Parade much either. Yet it made me feel like crying. Mind you, I cry at anything. Especially on Tuesdays.
Ooh, one I haven't heard before: Dylan. It sounds country-fied, it's Cassadaga-ed. Hmm. It's also got Cemetry Gates style lyrics.
On The Museum Island is moody and atmospheric but didn't make much of an impression on first listen.
Ooh, I really like War, which I also had never heard before. I'm a sucker for strings. Another one about death!
The title track First Love is about the song Hallelujah- everyone is obsessed with that! She even sings a bit of it in it. It reminds me of when Conor sings, 'you are my sunshine, my only sunshine' in the brilliant The Calendar Hung Itself. This song is good too, it's a bit epic and sprawling and confused and I like that.
I love, love, love MIA which I've had a scratchy version of forever. The lyrics are like a sick joke, they remind me of Stan for girls. Not sure about the recorder they've stuck on it, but it's just wonderful, touching and horrible and glib all at the same time.
Next is the Easter Parade Part 2. It kind of good having two parts to songs, even if I don't like them that much.
Bad Things Coming, We Are Safe is pure Bright Eyes Wide Awake it's Morning era. It has some of the Two Steps Forward tune to it, which gives it a Sugar Coma/ Boys on the Radio twist for you Hole fans (come on, I know at least five of them personally).
Everything Reminds Me of You reminds me of country Bright Eyes too, I think it's that reverberating guitar sound. But it doesn't really go anywhere.
City Song finishes the album. I like it but I don't love it, I have to say.
There's thirteen songs on this album and I think that's pretty good value. I like having the CD in my hand lately. I have bought Day & Age, Years of Refusal and this, and I like owning them, I like the tangibleness.
I watched Emmy the Great in the pouring rain at Glastonbury, and that MUST have been two years ago, because I didn't go last year. And it was all little girls watching. And me. Because I'm a little girl, too, inside my head. And I like Emmy. There is something special about her. Hopefully I'll go see her live soon.
At the weekend, my best friend said 'do we have to grow up?'. And the answer is, no.
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Thursday, 19 February 2009
Jade Goody: Kill Your Television
A long time ago one of best friends told me to start writing a blog. And so I did, right as Celebrity Big Brother 2007 kicked off (but before it kicked off). How detrimental writing this blog has been to my 'real' writing, I don't know. But there's always another way to waste time, and this is one of the better ones, at least it involves words. And so it continues.
In one of my first ever posts on this blog I wrote of Jade Goody 'I would LOVE to see Jade's empire fall to bits around her. I bet I'm not the only one.' Yet in the same post I wrote, 'I felt warm to Jade, even though she is a hateful moron.' And I did, actually, until that thing that happened that we all know about, and which killed CBB for a year and made the whole country feel ashamed to be British.
When it was announced she first had cancer, like you, I thought 'yeah right.' The fact it was announced on Big brother India seemed highly cynical and designed to make us magically forget you know what; but something that seared into public consciousness never gets forgotten (does it, Jonathan Ross?)
But now it's serious. She really is dying (she must be right, still I feel doubtful, like it can't be true, is that awful?) at 27. You have to feel sorry for her; getting married to that plank of wood is bad enough for starters. He appeared emotionally and socially incontinent on CBB so the thought of him looking after her is quite terrifying. The fact he's tagged and has a curfew must be painful, too, come 7pm. Let’s hope she doesn’t leave the twonk a penny, even though he’ll gobble up some crumbs from the red tops.
And then there's all the other stuff, like, you know, dying. 27 is a pitiful age to die, even if it is the age of the rock star death. Jade’s no Kurt Cobain.
So on one side there’s the ‘good on her, making cash for her kids’ camp, and on the other ‘how undignified, isn’t she crass’ crowd. And the ‘oh I’ve been to the doctors for a smear test since’ gang. Well if it took Jade Goody to get you to look after your sexual health like that, I pity you. And in the middle is Max Clifford rubbing his hands together, innocent as a choir boy.
And yet I, who during CBB ’07 probably silently and not-so-silently wished Jade dead on a few occasions, feel nothing. I DID want her empire to crumble. I don’t like stupid people being celebrated as geniuses (hands up, Jordan), I don’t like people being ‘famous for being famous’ and I didn’t like Jade’s personality. That doesn’t mean I want her to die. But it doesn’t mean I care wholeheartedly. And people pretending they do; well, I just don’t buy it. It’s just the chance for a bit of celebrity rubber-necking, the old Princess Diana circus for chavs.
When she dies, it will be a shock, I’m sure. It will end an era in which we lived vicariously through a bunch of idiots in a house, or on a beach, or in a jungle for nearly a decade. This time around I think Jade could kill 'real' Big Brother, and maybe even reality TV itself. Davina’s cavorting will be harder to bear than ever when their anti-queen is dead, the queen that they built up, mocked, knocked down, and threw away. She took her money and ran, and still is, but it didn’t give her much else, did it?
This could even be the death of Heat. Who knows what power Jade yields. Watch this space. (Saying 'watch this space' is cool.)
PS: Grammar Nazi... how DO you pronounce cervical cancer? I keep hearing people going 'cervi-ick-al.' That aint right, is it?
In one of my first ever posts on this blog I wrote of Jade Goody 'I would LOVE to see Jade's empire fall to bits around her. I bet I'm not the only one.' Yet in the same post I wrote, 'I felt warm to Jade, even though she is a hateful moron.' And I did, actually, until that thing that happened that we all know about, and which killed CBB for a year and made the whole country feel ashamed to be British.
When it was announced she first had cancer, like you, I thought 'yeah right.' The fact it was announced on Big brother India seemed highly cynical and designed to make us magically forget you know what; but something that seared into public consciousness never gets forgotten (does it, Jonathan Ross?)
But now it's serious. She really is dying (she must be right, still I feel doubtful, like it can't be true, is that awful?) at 27. You have to feel sorry for her; getting married to that plank of wood is bad enough for starters. He appeared emotionally and socially incontinent on CBB so the thought of him looking after her is quite terrifying. The fact he's tagged and has a curfew must be painful, too, come 7pm. Let’s hope she doesn’t leave the twonk a penny, even though he’ll gobble up some crumbs from the red tops.
And then there's all the other stuff, like, you know, dying. 27 is a pitiful age to die, even if it is the age of the rock star death. Jade’s no Kurt Cobain.
So on one side there’s the ‘good on her, making cash for her kids’ camp, and on the other ‘how undignified, isn’t she crass’ crowd. And the ‘oh I’ve been to the doctors for a smear test since’ gang. Well if it took Jade Goody to get you to look after your sexual health like that, I pity you. And in the middle is Max Clifford rubbing his hands together, innocent as a choir boy.
And yet I, who during CBB ’07 probably silently and not-so-silently wished Jade dead on a few occasions, feel nothing. I DID want her empire to crumble. I don’t like stupid people being celebrated as geniuses (hands up, Jordan), I don’t like people being ‘famous for being famous’ and I didn’t like Jade’s personality. That doesn’t mean I want her to die. But it doesn’t mean I care wholeheartedly. And people pretending they do; well, I just don’t buy it. It’s just the chance for a bit of celebrity rubber-necking, the old Princess Diana circus for chavs.
When she dies, it will be a shock, I’m sure. It will end an era in which we lived vicariously through a bunch of idiots in a house, or on a beach, or in a jungle for nearly a decade. This time around I think Jade could kill 'real' Big Brother, and maybe even reality TV itself. Davina’s cavorting will be harder to bear than ever when their anti-queen is dead, the queen that they built up, mocked, knocked down, and threw away. She took her money and ran, and still is, but it didn’t give her much else, did it?
This could even be the death of Heat. Who knows what power Jade yields. Watch this space. (Saying 'watch this space' is cool.)
PS: Grammar Nazi... how DO you pronounce cervical cancer? I keep hearing people going 'cervi-ick-al.' That aint right, is it?
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
Hate Blog: The Brits Awards 2009
I'm going to do a live blog of this, anything to keep me from proper writing. See how far I get before I start tying my shoelaces to the curtain rail.
Oh my God. I just remembered those homophobic CUNTS are presenting it. *turns over*
No, no, no. I've got to give it 15 minutes at least.
Fuck me, is that Bono? Is he parading in front of the Union Jack? When Morrissey did that he was banished from Britain for years on end. Oh and there's the lyrics. I'd sing along if it wasn't such SHIT. Fuck off Bonio, we've got Chris Martin now, we don't need you anymore. God is he STILL persevering with that whole coloured glasses schtick? I will only be satisfied with this performance if it's a medley that finishes with 'Lemon!' Haha, medleys. Good old medleys. JUST FUCK OFF BONO!
Oh, there's Kylie. I preferred her when he eyebrows weren't stapled to her scalp. She looks like she's had a stroke, or stood too close to the fire. Oh and there's those homophobic, unfunny cunts doing something unfunny. Urgh. They have less chemistry with Kylie than current-day Jason 'dreamboats and petticoats' Donovan.
Oh God, Simon Pegg presenting Best British Female. I hate Simon Pegg. He used to be good, but I think he ate too many smug pills in LA. Gross. I haven't even heard of some of these nominations. Mine would be Emmy the Great. She's delightful. Oh, Duffy won. Duffy reminds me of some stuffed toy, or puppet, she's naturally pretty, but she's dead behind the eyes. She's an impassionate robot even when she sings. That song bores me rigid too.
International female artist. Mine's Courtney Love, and I suspect she won't be up there. Oh fuck, please don't let it be Katie Perry. Please don't let it be Katie Perry. Please don't let it be Katie Perry. OH. She makes Avril Lavigne look alternative. She makes Fall Out Boy look like Bright Eyes.
Now I'm relieved to see Girls Aloud. Something aint right when you write that sentence. Why is that song so fucking catchy??? Argh! I like Kimberley if you're interested. Are they naked? No. And if they were, you still wouldn't get to see it. Ooh, they look nice in those leotards. At least they are real, not like all that Estelle rubbish. God, Sarah Harding's voice sounds horrible. But Nicola can sing. And as long as the Irish one doesn't speak, I'm happy.
Alex James! Cheese! It's not funny when they do it. Grrr! Saying 'without further ado' IS further ado, Alex James. He was introducing Best British Breakthrough Act. That's a tongue twister. Who won? Don't pretend you care. It was Duffy. She's writes her own joke with that name.
Thin homophobic cunt now has a quiff. Fat homophobic cunt says 'scream until your nipples bleed.' Eh? Why isn't Russell doing this gig? Why are they just perving over Kylie? These two are interminable. They make Michael Mackintyre look funny (and yes I did have to look up his name, he's just known as 'oh that unfunny twat's on TV again' round these parts.
Coldplay. Aww, the butterflies. Still, I feel strangely unmoved.
Natalie Imbruglia has wisely gone brunette again. She's giving out the award for best international group. THE KILLERS, surely? Oh those beardy blokes got it instead and thanked GOD. How inappropriate! This is an athiest kingdom! It shoulda been Brandon! He OWNS this year.
Oh my God, Jamie Cullum & Jamie Oliver! If you HAD to sleep with one??? ARGHHHHHHHH! Forget I said that. Best British Male Solo artist. MORRISSEY! Hmm, maybe not, hey. Maybe next year. Oh. I couldn't see him accepting the award from the chick-gasser anyhow. Paul Weller won. Unfortunately the award wasn't 'most ridiculous fringe.' or it would have been spot on.
Homophobic cunt one: 'Here is a performance so exciting, it will make you want to put your fist in your mum's mouth.' Is this a joke? Is this meant to be funny? I mean it was followed by Duffy, but still, give us a fucking leg up, you useless wanker.
Have I mentioned I hate Fearne Cotton? When I watch telly at my mums she's always like 'you hate everyone' so for the sake of parity, I like Holly Willoughby. Ta.
Homophobic fat cunt makes joke about being fat. Someone I don't know introduces Best Album. Why are AC-DC up for so much stuff? Did I miss something? THE KILLERS, THE KILLERS, THE KILLERS! My global position systems are vocally addressed! Oh fucking hell, it's the Kings of Leon again. Who they gonna thank now, the baby Jesus? They might as well thank the fucking tooth fairy, the beardy freaks.
Take That are in a spaceship. Is Robbie Williams going to show up? Are they taking the piss out of Robbie? I hope so! I wish BRANDON FLOWERS would turn up in his little outfit doing his robot dance. Now THAT would be good. Can you imagine BEING an ADULT Take That fan? You might as well just book yourself in for the lobotomy now. They all have glasses on. Brainy! Gary Barlow was my fave, in the bleach/bondage/ jelly era. Don't tell anyone.
Nick Frost looks rough. And he never exactly looked handsome. Non-funny joke, but that appears to be compulsory. Best Live Act. Moz, of course. Oh, it's... Iron Maiden. Yes, I did just say that. Bruce Dickinson talks like an accountant.
The Hoff. Best British Group. Elbow. Elbow! Better than Coldplay or Girls Aloud? Ich don't think so. Chris Martin looked sick! I liked it when they asked a recovering alcoholic to come for a drink, though.
Kings of Leon play live. I don't mind this one. Who doesn't? It's nice enough. It has that Coldplay-esque backing vocal. It's the acceptable face of rock for chavs. But it just don't turn me on, baby.
Making jokes about Craig David. That was funny about five years ago. Florence (and the machine) has lovely hair. Best international male. Neil Diamond is a nominee. (Can you tell I've got the shoelaces out? Just tying them...) Kanye West won. Nice veneers. Subtle.
Oh and a glorious duet from the Ting Tings and Estelle. Their songs mesh together as happily as Rhianna and Chris Brown en route to the Grammys. MEDLEY!
Cunt 1 described Alan Carr as 'slightly camp'. Why didn't they get Alan to present this show? Alan rocks! Best British single. How quaint. Girls Aloud! Glad they won something. At least they're likeable. Sarah Harding: 'it's about time!' It's not like you wrote it, is it, love?
Tom Jones (sadly not my friend called Tom Jones, who is much more palatable) presenting Album of the Year with his new Mr Whippy hair. Time to go less orange, TJ. Duffy won it. There was a tear in her android eye. It was probably just a leaky battery.
OMG BRANDON!!! I wasn't expecting that. Are they singing? *squeal* Why are his ears sticking out? Wow he mentioned Louder than Bombs! That was a boring speech though. Oh my God, he chose Pet Shop Boys over The Smiths! Bet he wouldn't tell Mozzy that, if indeed it's true. He looked a bit boss eyed, was he plastered? Put your little spacesuit on, Brandon! I love you! I'll give you some bang for your buck. (Apologies, I'm getting hysterical)
Seriously, who really gives two shits about the Pet Shop Boys? Can you name one person who likes them? Erasure are better. MEDLEY. Why is Brandon THERE yet not playing? This is criminal!
Oh fuck me, Lady Gaga just rolled up. Seriously; if she's 22, I'm 12. Thank god she fucked off before Brandon came on stage. He wasn't on for long enough though. What a waste. It's like having Morrissey there and getting him to do a little dance behind Jay Z or something.
Oh my God, then Brandon did sing with Lady Gaga for a second! URGH! I'm fucking furious now! I sit through that fucking shit-fest and then that happens!
CUNTS!
Oh my God. I just remembered those homophobic CUNTS are presenting it. *turns over*
No, no, no. I've got to give it 15 minutes at least.
Fuck me, is that Bono? Is he parading in front of the Union Jack? When Morrissey did that he was banished from Britain for years on end. Oh and there's the lyrics. I'd sing along if it wasn't such SHIT. Fuck off Bonio, we've got Chris Martin now, we don't need you anymore. God is he STILL persevering with that whole coloured glasses schtick? I will only be satisfied with this performance if it's a medley that finishes with 'Lemon!' Haha, medleys. Good old medleys. JUST FUCK OFF BONO!
Oh, there's Kylie. I preferred her when he eyebrows weren't stapled to her scalp. She looks like she's had a stroke, or stood too close to the fire. Oh and there's those homophobic, unfunny cunts doing something unfunny. Urgh. They have less chemistry with Kylie than current-day Jason 'dreamboats and petticoats' Donovan.
Oh God, Simon Pegg presenting Best British Female. I hate Simon Pegg. He used to be good, but I think he ate too many smug pills in LA. Gross. I haven't even heard of some of these nominations. Mine would be Emmy the Great. She's delightful. Oh, Duffy won. Duffy reminds me of some stuffed toy, or puppet, she's naturally pretty, but she's dead behind the eyes. She's an impassionate robot even when she sings. That song bores me rigid too.
International female artist. Mine's Courtney Love, and I suspect she won't be up there. Oh fuck, please don't let it be Katie Perry. Please don't let it be Katie Perry. Please don't let it be Katie Perry. OH. She makes Avril Lavigne look alternative. She makes Fall Out Boy look like Bright Eyes.
Now I'm relieved to see Girls Aloud. Something aint right when you write that sentence. Why is that song so fucking catchy??? Argh! I like Kimberley if you're interested. Are they naked? No. And if they were, you still wouldn't get to see it. Ooh, they look nice in those leotards. At least they are real, not like all that Estelle rubbish. God, Sarah Harding's voice sounds horrible. But Nicola can sing. And as long as the Irish one doesn't speak, I'm happy.
Alex James! Cheese! It's not funny when they do it. Grrr! Saying 'without further ado' IS further ado, Alex James. He was introducing Best British Breakthrough Act. That's a tongue twister. Who won? Don't pretend you care. It was Duffy. She's writes her own joke with that name.
Thin homophobic cunt now has a quiff. Fat homophobic cunt says 'scream until your nipples bleed.' Eh? Why isn't Russell doing this gig? Why are they just perving over Kylie? These two are interminable. They make Michael Mackintyre look funny (and yes I did have to look up his name, he's just known as 'oh that unfunny twat's on TV again' round these parts.
Coldplay. Aww, the butterflies. Still, I feel strangely unmoved.
Natalie Imbruglia has wisely gone brunette again. She's giving out the award for best international group. THE KILLERS, surely? Oh those beardy blokes got it instead and thanked GOD. How inappropriate! This is an athiest kingdom! It shoulda been Brandon! He OWNS this year.
Oh my God, Jamie Cullum & Jamie Oliver! If you HAD to sleep with one??? ARGHHHHHHHH! Forget I said that. Best British Male Solo artist. MORRISSEY! Hmm, maybe not, hey. Maybe next year. Oh. I couldn't see him accepting the award from the chick-gasser anyhow. Paul Weller won. Unfortunately the award wasn't 'most ridiculous fringe.' or it would have been spot on.
Homophobic cunt one: 'Here is a performance so exciting, it will make you want to put your fist in your mum's mouth.' Is this a joke? Is this meant to be funny? I mean it was followed by Duffy, but still, give us a fucking leg up, you useless wanker.
Have I mentioned I hate Fearne Cotton? When I watch telly at my mums she's always like 'you hate everyone' so for the sake of parity, I like Holly Willoughby. Ta.
Homophobic fat cunt makes joke about being fat. Someone I don't know introduces Best Album. Why are AC-DC up for so much stuff? Did I miss something? THE KILLERS, THE KILLERS, THE KILLERS! My global position systems are vocally addressed! Oh fucking hell, it's the Kings of Leon again. Who they gonna thank now, the baby Jesus? They might as well thank the fucking tooth fairy, the beardy freaks.
Take That are in a spaceship. Is Robbie Williams going to show up? Are they taking the piss out of Robbie? I hope so! I wish BRANDON FLOWERS would turn up in his little outfit doing his robot dance. Now THAT would be good. Can you imagine BEING an ADULT Take That fan? You might as well just book yourself in for the lobotomy now. They all have glasses on. Brainy! Gary Barlow was my fave, in the bleach/bondage/ jelly era. Don't tell anyone.
Nick Frost looks rough. And he never exactly looked handsome. Non-funny joke, but that appears to be compulsory. Best Live Act. Moz, of course. Oh, it's... Iron Maiden. Yes, I did just say that. Bruce Dickinson talks like an accountant.
The Hoff. Best British Group. Elbow. Elbow! Better than Coldplay or Girls Aloud? Ich don't think so. Chris Martin looked sick! I liked it when they asked a recovering alcoholic to come for a drink, though.
Kings of Leon play live. I don't mind this one. Who doesn't? It's nice enough. It has that Coldplay-esque backing vocal. It's the acceptable face of rock for chavs. But it just don't turn me on, baby.
Making jokes about Craig David. That was funny about five years ago. Florence (and the machine) has lovely hair. Best international male. Neil Diamond is a nominee. (Can you tell I've got the shoelaces out? Just tying them...) Kanye West won. Nice veneers. Subtle.
Oh and a glorious duet from the Ting Tings and Estelle. Their songs mesh together as happily as Rhianna and Chris Brown en route to the Grammys. MEDLEY!
Cunt 1 described Alan Carr as 'slightly camp'. Why didn't they get Alan to present this show? Alan rocks! Best British single. How quaint. Girls Aloud! Glad they won something. At least they're likeable. Sarah Harding: 'it's about time!' It's not like you wrote it, is it, love?
Tom Jones (sadly not my friend called Tom Jones, who is much more palatable) presenting Album of the Year with his new Mr Whippy hair. Time to go less orange, TJ. Duffy won it. There was a tear in her android eye. It was probably just a leaky battery.
OMG BRANDON!!! I wasn't expecting that. Are they singing? *squeal* Why are his ears sticking out? Wow he mentioned Louder than Bombs! That was a boring speech though. Oh my God, he chose Pet Shop Boys over The Smiths! Bet he wouldn't tell Mozzy that, if indeed it's true. He looked a bit boss eyed, was he plastered? Put your little spacesuit on, Brandon! I love you! I'll give you some bang for your buck. (Apologies, I'm getting hysterical)
Seriously, who really gives two shits about the Pet Shop Boys? Can you name one person who likes them? Erasure are better. MEDLEY. Why is Brandon THERE yet not playing? This is criminal!
Oh fuck me, Lady Gaga just rolled up. Seriously; if she's 22, I'm 12. Thank god she fucked off before Brandon came on stage. He wasn't on for long enough though. What a waste. It's like having Morrissey there and getting him to do a little dance behind Jay Z or something.
Oh my God, then Brandon did sing with Lady Gaga for a second! URGH! I'm fucking furious now! I sit through that fucking shit-fest and then that happens!
CUNTS!
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
Freaky Eaters: The Return!
Here's the news: when people call you bubbly, it's not a compliment. It means you're fat.
They have new presenters now; good, the old ones were really intimidating and weird. The new ones are more kid's TV and bearable.
Tonights subject Nikita was addicted to burgers and bacon; mmm, dead flesh. Her mum said 'you hair has gone stringy from your diet'; no that's just a bad bleach job, love (I should know, I have one!) Then her partner of 11 years said he was going to leave her 'if things didn't change'- aw.
Mmm, the dead pigs hanging up were a nice touch. The statistics of her eating in a year were: 300 rashers of bacon, 1875 slices of bread, 200 cans of beans and sausages, 60KGs of chips and 250 beefburgers. What a waste of food to have that all splodged all over the place just to prove a point. There are people starving in the world you know (believe me, I do).
As usual, I could relate to the poor unfortunate freak, especially in the psychologist's chair, because I am one. Recently I had counselling about my own eating disorder and it was very obviously linked to me needing things to be safe, familiar and heavily controlled by me. Sadly I only had 6 sessions and she told me I needed a year or two with a decent psychotherapist. So my stupidness lingers on.
I felt physically sick when she ate that tomato and cucumber together. Tomatoes have runny stuff in them! Eek! *childish*
What was that bit where they tried to force her to have a conversation with a stranger about? I'd run screaming if they did that to me.
Then she tried natural yoghurt. Yes, the smell is familiar from the LAST TIME YOU HAD THRUSH. Who would EAT THAT??? It makes me want to cower in a corner.
Oh my God, I don't want to get gout. I had a swollen ankle the other week! Panic stations!
Ooh, the nutrition guy said 'schizm'. That was sad when the burger and sausages girl's mum said she was still harking back for the old Nikita. My mum will get the lightupvirginmary she is given. It's her bloody fault I'm nutritionally inept! (It's not actually; I'm a grown woman and need to get a grip)
It was telling when she went out for Tapas and just didn't like anything. That's how I feel; I just DON'T like anything. And also, I wouldn't eat in public like that if you paid me. Even less so with a TV camera down my mush.
That was both cruel and embarrassing when they made her sing; I used to do gymnastics when I was 9, but it doesn't mean I want some pushy gimp to stick me in a leotard and tell me that's when I was most happy.
Do you think I'm getting my own issues mixed up with the programme much? I thought her boyfriend was a little hard on her; but I guess you do get sick of it after 11 years. I'm definitely sick of it after 25-odd (I actually ate OK up until I was 3).
How fucking scary is the end bit of that show, where you're forced to eat a whole mean, with everyone piling on the pressure and a camera in your face? I'd rather run naked down the street than put up with that shit. She was BRAVE. Harry Hill may laugh (and I do too) but it's fucking hard being nutritionally retarded. It's a social and logistical nightmare that never ends. And it is all just in your head; but so's anorexia, and that kills people regularly. People say 'why cant they just eat?' or 'why can't you just try something?' But it's just a mental headfuck. It's just something hard to understand and easy to mock.
And then her boyfriend was like 'I think deep down you're enjoying it, you're just unsure, push on.' Don't tell her what she does and doesn't like. It's not her tongue's fault it tastes funny, it's her BRAIN.
I guarantee she'll be mainlining tins of burgers and sausages within two weeks. No one would put themselves through that hell every mealtime. It must take years to undo the damage. I think I'll probably just take the heart attack/ diabetes/ high cholesterol. I'd rather die of that crap than get Alzheimers for twenty years.
Low energy... always ill... yes, that does sound like me. And I have stringy hair. But don't you dare call me bubbly!
They have new presenters now; good, the old ones were really intimidating and weird. The new ones are more kid's TV and bearable.
Tonights subject Nikita was addicted to burgers and bacon; mmm, dead flesh. Her mum said 'you hair has gone stringy from your diet'; no that's just a bad bleach job, love (I should know, I have one!) Then her partner of 11 years said he was going to leave her 'if things didn't change'- aw.
Mmm, the dead pigs hanging up were a nice touch. The statistics of her eating in a year were: 300 rashers of bacon, 1875 slices of bread, 200 cans of beans and sausages, 60KGs of chips and 250 beefburgers. What a waste of food to have that all splodged all over the place just to prove a point. There are people starving in the world you know (believe me, I do).
As usual, I could relate to the poor unfortunate freak, especially in the psychologist's chair, because I am one. Recently I had counselling about my own eating disorder and it was very obviously linked to me needing things to be safe, familiar and heavily controlled by me. Sadly I only had 6 sessions and she told me I needed a year or two with a decent psychotherapist. So my stupidness lingers on.
I felt physically sick when she ate that tomato and cucumber together. Tomatoes have runny stuff in them! Eek! *childish*
What was that bit where they tried to force her to have a conversation with a stranger about? I'd run screaming if they did that to me.
Then she tried natural yoghurt. Yes, the smell is familiar from the LAST TIME YOU HAD THRUSH. Who would EAT THAT??? It makes me want to cower in a corner.
Oh my God, I don't want to get gout. I had a swollen ankle the other week! Panic stations!
Ooh, the nutrition guy said 'schizm'. That was sad when the burger and sausages girl's mum said she was still harking back for the old Nikita. My mum will get the lightupvirginmary she is given. It's her bloody fault I'm nutritionally inept! (It's not actually; I'm a grown woman and need to get a grip)
It was telling when she went out for Tapas and just didn't like anything. That's how I feel; I just DON'T like anything. And also, I wouldn't eat in public like that if you paid me. Even less so with a TV camera down my mush.
That was both cruel and embarrassing when they made her sing; I used to do gymnastics when I was 9, but it doesn't mean I want some pushy gimp to stick me in a leotard and tell me that's when I was most happy.
Do you think I'm getting my own issues mixed up with the programme much? I thought her boyfriend was a little hard on her; but I guess you do get sick of it after 11 years. I'm definitely sick of it after 25-odd (I actually ate OK up until I was 3).
How fucking scary is the end bit of that show, where you're forced to eat a whole mean, with everyone piling on the pressure and a camera in your face? I'd rather run naked down the street than put up with that shit. She was BRAVE. Harry Hill may laugh (and I do too) but it's fucking hard being nutritionally retarded. It's a social and logistical nightmare that never ends. And it is all just in your head; but so's anorexia, and that kills people regularly. People say 'why cant they just eat?' or 'why can't you just try something?' But it's just a mental headfuck. It's just something hard to understand and easy to mock.
And then her boyfriend was like 'I think deep down you're enjoying it, you're just unsure, push on.' Don't tell her what she does and doesn't like. It's not her tongue's fault it tastes funny, it's her BRAIN.
I guarantee she'll be mainlining tins of burgers and sausages within two weeks. No one would put themselves through that hell every mealtime. It must take years to undo the damage. I think I'll probably just take the heart attack/ diabetes/ high cholesterol. I'd rather die of that crap than get Alzheimers for twenty years.
Low energy... always ill... yes, that does sound like me. And I have stringy hair. But don't you dare call me bubbly!
Monday, 16 February 2009
Morrissey on The One Show (I Could Do Both)
I was wondering what to blog about and then this phantasmagorical funk-phenomena lands in my lap. I heard a rumour Mogs was going to be on The One Show last week and said, 'I'll believe it when I see it.' Well now I see it. And it's disturbing!
My cunting freeview missed off the very start of it, but I saw him saying something; anyone know what?
It makes me curious that Morrissey obviously refused to be interviewed by JRo, yet will sit on a couch looking like wants to die talking about unemployment with Adrian Chiles! Did I just write those words? Did someone spike my drink? What the fuck is going on?
The woman presenter (I won't look it up) did NOT know how to handle old Mozzy at all! He wasn't playing her inane game, and she didn't like it! His comment about unemployment: 'I never wanted a job.' Don't they know shit about him? Her saying 'do you have a responsibility to your fans?' and him saying 'no.' I loved him not agreeing with her. His solution to unemployment; paint! Hurrah.
The clips bit was quite good, and people saying nice things about him. I wish they'd asked him for a comment on David Cameron giving him love. Jeremy Vine quoting Every Day is Like Sunday! *washes out ears*
His comment on making videos was interesting, he has very little input and the director just decides. Is that how November Spawned a Monster happened, Moz? Did you not get a little concerned when the hat or the bar of chocolate were brought out?
I agree that he is open and not mysterious; he has always been very honest with his fans through his music.
Good things about this interview: Morrissey saying 'it hasn't.' Morrissey saying 'fascinating'. Morrissey saying 'many, many times.' He loves that stuff! I also liked him saying he 'never had the Manchester accent which was unfortunate.' then laughing.
At the end some freak came on to talk about some old nonsense or other. These in-between clips in the show were the Eastenders equivelent of some great drama occuring in the Queen Vic and then repeatedly cutting to some old rubbish about Big Mo trying to flog some dodgy watches. Morrissey's bemused face at the science guy's utter tosh was a picture. I think he crushed him for life.
Loved his comment about the baby: 'He's very advanced for his years.'
A little birdie told me that he only went on this show because his mum likes it. What next, Dancing on Ice? 8 out of 10 cats? Is he gonna do the coat of cash on The Sunday Night Project? Save us from the flames, Mozzer.
But you know I am still there for life. You know we all are. You bugger!
(PS: I thought Jro (briefly) handled Morrissey beautifully this week, and very much enjoyed the Radio 2 gig despite Best Friend on The Payroll? Oh Morrissey. What next? Papa Jack?)
My cunting freeview missed off the very start of it, but I saw him saying something; anyone know what?
It makes me curious that Morrissey obviously refused to be interviewed by JRo, yet will sit on a couch looking like wants to die talking about unemployment with Adrian Chiles! Did I just write those words? Did someone spike my drink? What the fuck is going on?
The woman presenter (I won't look it up) did NOT know how to handle old Mozzy at all! He wasn't playing her inane game, and she didn't like it! His comment about unemployment: 'I never wanted a job.' Don't they know shit about him? Her saying 'do you have a responsibility to your fans?' and him saying 'no.' I loved him not agreeing with her. His solution to unemployment; paint! Hurrah.
The clips bit was quite good, and people saying nice things about him. I wish they'd asked him for a comment on David Cameron giving him love. Jeremy Vine quoting Every Day is Like Sunday! *washes out ears*
His comment on making videos was interesting, he has very little input and the director just decides. Is that how November Spawned a Monster happened, Moz? Did you not get a little concerned when the hat or the bar of chocolate were brought out?
I agree that he is open and not mysterious; he has always been very honest with his fans through his music.
Good things about this interview: Morrissey saying 'it hasn't.' Morrissey saying 'fascinating'. Morrissey saying 'many, many times.' He loves that stuff! I also liked him saying he 'never had the Manchester accent which was unfortunate.' then laughing.
At the end some freak came on to talk about some old nonsense or other. These in-between clips in the show were the Eastenders equivelent of some great drama occuring in the Queen Vic and then repeatedly cutting to some old rubbish about Big Mo trying to flog some dodgy watches. Morrissey's bemused face at the science guy's utter tosh was a picture. I think he crushed him for life.
Loved his comment about the baby: 'He's very advanced for his years.'
A little birdie told me that he only went on this show because his mum likes it. What next, Dancing on Ice? 8 out of 10 cats? Is he gonna do the coat of cash on The Sunday Night Project? Save us from the flames, Mozzer.
But you know I am still there for life. You know we all are. You bugger!
(PS: I thought Jro (briefly) handled Morrissey beautifully this week, and very much enjoyed the Radio 2 gig despite Best Friend on The Payroll? Oh Morrissey. What next? Papa Jack?)
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
Album review: Morrissey- Years of Refusal
So is it finally time for me to do a ridiculously long and rambling review of Years of Refusal? It feels odd because I've been listening to it for a month now, and reviews should be written off the bat, even if they end up being wildly wrong, like my latest Killers one. There's a beauty in that wrongness, in jumping to conclusions, because it's fun to look back and go, what was I thinking? (correction: Day and Age is AMAZING! I demand you watch the Spaceman video)
I will say I only downloaded Refusal because I went to Quarry night where they were playing it, and I wanted to hear it in my own time first. And I was right to. I did enjoy hearing it played loud at Quarry, but that is no time to form your thoughts on an album, you need the lyrics clutched in your sweaty little paw, if possible.
So I decided to wait to write about Mozzy, to let it sink in, to let him catch up. We've had a funny old year, me and Moz. Actually, he's done more for me in the past year than probably any other.
So let's do it:
Something is Squeezing My Skull:Like you, I first heard SISMS many moons ago on Jules Holland. I was very excited by it at the time; I especially like his drugs shopping list at the end, and the 'don't gimme any more' bit. I like it when he pushes his vocals and yelps a bit. It's a solid, rocky start to the album and a well-judged opener.
Mama Lay Softly on the Riverbed: I think I first heard this at the Wireless festival, and in the mire of my early hangover (I stopped drinking too early) this song reached out and grabbed me round the throat. It promised better things ahead. It was just me and Moz at that second and i knew he heard me. 'Life is nothing much to lose/ It's just so lonely here without you': well, it's just perfect, isn't it? I like the fact it sprawls all over the place, the tune going in different directions, it has different parts to it, and a bit of a paranoid android feel (although I hate Paranoid Android). In fact, I think stick another two minutes or so onto it and it would be even better. I like songs that overstay their welcome. I like the instrumental break in the middle, I can imagine Moz swinging his mic around in a frenzy. Are we tired of lyrics about 'bailiffs with bad breath' and 'uncivil servants'? Not really, it's a giggle, innit. That's our Mozzy. And death has never seemed so appealing as 'we will be safe and sheltered in our graves'; it makes me want to snuggle down six feet under immediately. I like the 'woooooh's at the end and the marching-band drumbeat, and just everything, really. This is top ten Morrissey material (which is why he'll never release it as a single). One criticism, the keyboard is a bit quiet on the studio version. But considering how dire studio versions of songs can be once you've fallen in love with the live version, I think we should just be grateful there's no flute (or saxaphone!)
Black Cloud: It took me a while to get into Black Cloud; I thought it was a bit throwaway at first, but it's actually very catchy and 'roosts in the mind' before you know it (I'm too good). It's a bit comical, the thought of Moz and his cartoon black cloud on a string (is that just me?), but I defy you not to be singing it to your (un)loved one within weeks. This is one of my faves of the album now.
I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris: Another one that has been knocking around for a while, I was fairly unimpressed by this at first, but it's a bit of a grower and pleasant enough, if lyrically fairly unexciting. I like the video; it's cute. Could I live without it? Yes. but he does like a forgettable single, and he does like to test our patience. I'm surprised he didn't consign Mama to a b-side.
All You Need is Me: Why is All You Need is Me on the album? Should it be? It was on the greatest hits. It's nothingy. It's poppy. It's silly. I'd rather he realeased some new singles. It's just Moz resting on his laurels, I think. Lyrically, it's the same old narcissistic schtick. However, you gotta love 'you don't like me but you love me, either way you're wrong.' It's Moz-by-numbers. But his numbers are worth doing the lottery with.
When Last I spoke to Carol: Ariba! This is Moz in horsey, clip-cloppy, film-soundtrack mode (see: barking dogs). It's probably one of the more original songs on the album, and it's definitely grown on me loads. Shouldn't it be 'when I last spoke to Carol?' It is on my itunes. Haha! (I'm buying the album, I swear!) I hate it when Moz plays silly buggers with his grammar. Will he be donning a sombrero for the video? Now that I'd like to see. I think this song would be fun to drive along to. I like the lyric 'to the rescue, nobody ever comes' even though it's a bit Yoda-esque. He does some good 'woooah'-ing on this album too. His voice has never sounded better.
That's How People Grow Up: How long ago did Mozzy fall out with Kristeen? It must be at least a year. Therefore; this song is OLD! I can't even tell this song and All You Need is Me apart half the time. Zzzz.
One Day Goodbye will be Farewell This song starts with the bizarre line, 'Always be careful when you abuse the one you love' how about, 'just don't', Mozzy? Another clip-cloppy horsey one; rather hilariously I read an interview with Morrissey last week where he said he strives to make all his songs have 'different vocal melodies' and he's only slipped up twice. Eh??? Half his songs sound exactly the same, including at least four songs on this album. This song screams album track in my opinion, and that title is straight out of a Morrissey song-title generator. However, I like the bit where he says 'I have been thinking (what with?) My final brain cell.' Talking to himself now. Oh this song also goes either 'shabba, shabba, shabba' or 'Shabnam, Shabnam, Shabnam' at the end. And no one wants to be reminded of Shabnam, do they?
It's Not Your Birthday Anymore: So this is the money shot. You can tell from the opening lines that it's just going to be magical. Everything works in unison; the tune, his voice, the lyrics (it's lyrically confused, but that's fine when they are this good). OK I can live without the symbals, but you know, I'm kind of used to them now. The first time I listened to this I thought it kicked in too early and we might have a kind of faux-fan favourite like 'Come Back to Camden' on our hands. Luckily, I was wrong. This song is DIVINE. It sounds sacriligious, but the song really makes me think of Coldplay; it has that big stadium feel to it. If Coldplay dared to release this, it would be a monster hit, but I don't think they have the balls for lines like 'the will to see you smile and belong has now gone'. The lyrics are beautiful, funny, exciting, sexy. 'The love I am now giving to you right here right now on the floor' is a bit risque for Mozzles. But it's bloody great. When he does that falsetto bit in the middle, it's like a choir, it's that heavenly. I just felt my heart go the first time I heard it, I just knew. It was a Speedway moment. But there's more; then there's this bit where he goes 'oooooh-uh-oh' at the end, and you couldn't wish for more, his voice sounds fucking amazing, it is just lush beyond words. It's like an orgasm in a song. It's like nothing he's ever done before. God, I hope he does it live. I hope he knows how good it is.
You Were Good in Your Time: This is my least favourite song on the album; it's like a dreary old soundtrack to some black and white film. I can just see Moz crooning it in the mirror, and it barely has a tune. It's only redeeming feature is the joke at the end, which is ruined by the Bright Eyes-style 'atmospherics' afterwards. God, don't I suffer enough of that shit from Conor? Bet you a zillion pounds he makes us suffer through it on tour. (Sorry James)
Sorry Doesn't Help: Didn't think much to this at first, but 'sorry doesn't help' really comes in handy as a catchphrase, you know. It's a bit horsey again. 'Like a QC full of fake humility': I even know the name of that frigging QC now thanks to some Moz fan on Mastermind (she was good). This song has grown on me; once you get over the fact all the average ones sound the same, it's fine.
I'm OK By Myself: Oh, what a title. This song really reminds me of 'You Know I couldn't Last' which ends Quarry and 'At Last I am Born' which ends Ringleaders. It's his typical overblown ending to an album, him just hammering the point home in case you didn't quite catch it yet. Not that that's a bad thing. Something that possibly IS a bad thing is it sounds way too similar to Sorry Doesn't Help and virtually IDENTICAL in the opening bars to Something is Squeezing my Skull. They REALLY like that bass line don't they? Anyhoo. This song did nothing for me at first but has definitely gone up in my estimation. The lyrics 'It's been so, all of my life, why change now? IT HASN'T!' are ridiclous, but it becomes compulsive to shout 'IT HASN'T!' at random things after listening to this a few times. It has a kind of Sorrow Will Come in The End amusement factor to it (lawyer! liar!) I like it when he does silly talky bits. I have no idea WHY he does them, but they are funny.
These lyrics, however, are unforgivable: 'then came an arm around my shoulder, well surely the hand holds a revolver'. Please! Revolver sounds clunky beyond words, and doesn't even rhyme with bloody shoulder. Morrissey, you might as well have stuck 'shoehorn' in there. It hasnt! And also, it doesn't disturb me that you're OK by yourself, I KNOW you like being by yourself! Now stop playing up or you're not getting any sweets.
Interestingly, the song ends in a Bright-Eyesey (yes I have used that twice now, but this is in a positive sense) wall of feedback/ vocoder action. I like it! It's all yodelly/ screamy/ guitary. There should have been lots more of that on the album, it really works. And as such, is a fine ending.
The album does have a kind of raw, live feeling to it, which is really effective, as I think Ringleaders was too over-produced (will he ever do Pigsty without that bloody rain???) I think I like the rocky stuff more than the poppy stuff, but I like the outside the box stuff 'Mama/ Birthday' more than anything. When he really challenges himself, it works beautifully.
I have only read a couple of reviews of Refusal (I like to decide for myself before having other people's opinions foisted upon me) but the 'it sounds like Vauxhall/ Quarry/ Ringleaders' stuff is misleading. It doesn't. At first I was worried it was a bit Ringleaders-ey but really, Ringleaders had one brilliant song on it (two at a push). This album is more well-rounded, more varied (despite my complaints), and I won't mind him hammering it so much on tour.
He's still with us. We will miss him when he's gone. So let's appreciate him NOW. Give him some Moz love.
PS: I look forward to hearing the b-sides & most of all, the giggage.
I will say I only downloaded Refusal because I went to Quarry night where they were playing it, and I wanted to hear it in my own time first. And I was right to. I did enjoy hearing it played loud at Quarry, but that is no time to form your thoughts on an album, you need the lyrics clutched in your sweaty little paw, if possible.
So I decided to wait to write about Mozzy, to let it sink in, to let him catch up. We've had a funny old year, me and Moz. Actually, he's done more for me in the past year than probably any other.
So let's do it:
Something is Squeezing My Skull:Like you, I first heard SISMS many moons ago on Jules Holland. I was very excited by it at the time; I especially like his drugs shopping list at the end, and the 'don't gimme any more' bit. I like it when he pushes his vocals and yelps a bit. It's a solid, rocky start to the album and a well-judged opener.
Mama Lay Softly on the Riverbed: I think I first heard this at the Wireless festival, and in the mire of my early hangover (I stopped drinking too early) this song reached out and grabbed me round the throat. It promised better things ahead. It was just me and Moz at that second and i knew he heard me. 'Life is nothing much to lose/ It's just so lonely here without you': well, it's just perfect, isn't it? I like the fact it sprawls all over the place, the tune going in different directions, it has different parts to it, and a bit of a paranoid android feel (although I hate Paranoid Android). In fact, I think stick another two minutes or so onto it and it would be even better. I like songs that overstay their welcome. I like the instrumental break in the middle, I can imagine Moz swinging his mic around in a frenzy. Are we tired of lyrics about 'bailiffs with bad breath' and 'uncivil servants'? Not really, it's a giggle, innit. That's our Mozzy. And death has never seemed so appealing as 'we will be safe and sheltered in our graves'; it makes me want to snuggle down six feet under immediately. I like the 'woooooh's at the end and the marching-band drumbeat, and just everything, really. This is top ten Morrissey material (which is why he'll never release it as a single). One criticism, the keyboard is a bit quiet on the studio version. But considering how dire studio versions of songs can be once you've fallen in love with the live version, I think we should just be grateful there's no flute (or saxaphone!)
Black Cloud: It took me a while to get into Black Cloud; I thought it was a bit throwaway at first, but it's actually very catchy and 'roosts in the mind' before you know it (I'm too good). It's a bit comical, the thought of Moz and his cartoon black cloud on a string (is that just me?), but I defy you not to be singing it to your (un)loved one within weeks. This is one of my faves of the album now.
I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris: Another one that has been knocking around for a while, I was fairly unimpressed by this at first, but it's a bit of a grower and pleasant enough, if lyrically fairly unexciting. I like the video; it's cute. Could I live without it? Yes. but he does like a forgettable single, and he does like to test our patience. I'm surprised he didn't consign Mama to a b-side.
All You Need is Me: Why is All You Need is Me on the album? Should it be? It was on the greatest hits. It's nothingy. It's poppy. It's silly. I'd rather he realeased some new singles. It's just Moz resting on his laurels, I think. Lyrically, it's the same old narcissistic schtick. However, you gotta love 'you don't like me but you love me, either way you're wrong.' It's Moz-by-numbers. But his numbers are worth doing the lottery with.
When Last I spoke to Carol: Ariba! This is Moz in horsey, clip-cloppy, film-soundtrack mode (see: barking dogs). It's probably one of the more original songs on the album, and it's definitely grown on me loads. Shouldn't it be 'when I last spoke to Carol?' It is on my itunes. Haha! (I'm buying the album, I swear!) I hate it when Moz plays silly buggers with his grammar. Will he be donning a sombrero for the video? Now that I'd like to see. I think this song would be fun to drive along to. I like the lyric 'to the rescue, nobody ever comes' even though it's a bit Yoda-esque. He does some good 'woooah'-ing on this album too. His voice has never sounded better.
That's How People Grow Up: How long ago did Mozzy fall out with Kristeen? It must be at least a year. Therefore; this song is OLD! I can't even tell this song and All You Need is Me apart half the time. Zzzz.
One Day Goodbye will be Farewell This song starts with the bizarre line, 'Always be careful when you abuse the one you love' how about, 'just don't', Mozzy? Another clip-cloppy horsey one; rather hilariously I read an interview with Morrissey last week where he said he strives to make all his songs have 'different vocal melodies' and he's only slipped up twice. Eh??? Half his songs sound exactly the same, including at least four songs on this album. This song screams album track in my opinion, and that title is straight out of a Morrissey song-title generator. However, I like the bit where he says 'I have been thinking (what with?) My final brain cell.' Talking to himself now. Oh this song also goes either 'shabba, shabba, shabba' or 'Shabnam, Shabnam, Shabnam' at the end. And no one wants to be reminded of Shabnam, do they?
It's Not Your Birthday Anymore: So this is the money shot. You can tell from the opening lines that it's just going to be magical. Everything works in unison; the tune, his voice, the lyrics (it's lyrically confused, but that's fine when they are this good). OK I can live without the symbals, but you know, I'm kind of used to them now. The first time I listened to this I thought it kicked in too early and we might have a kind of faux-fan favourite like 'Come Back to Camden' on our hands. Luckily, I was wrong. This song is DIVINE. It sounds sacriligious, but the song really makes me think of Coldplay; it has that big stadium feel to it. If Coldplay dared to release this, it would be a monster hit, but I don't think they have the balls for lines like 'the will to see you smile and belong has now gone'. The lyrics are beautiful, funny, exciting, sexy. 'The love I am now giving to you right here right now on the floor' is a bit risque for Mozzles. But it's bloody great. When he does that falsetto bit in the middle, it's like a choir, it's that heavenly. I just felt my heart go the first time I heard it, I just knew. It was a Speedway moment. But there's more; then there's this bit where he goes 'oooooh-uh-oh' at the end, and you couldn't wish for more, his voice sounds fucking amazing, it is just lush beyond words. It's like an orgasm in a song. It's like nothing he's ever done before. God, I hope he does it live. I hope he knows how good it is.
You Were Good in Your Time: This is my least favourite song on the album; it's like a dreary old soundtrack to some black and white film. I can just see Moz crooning it in the mirror, and it barely has a tune. It's only redeeming feature is the joke at the end, which is ruined by the Bright Eyes-style 'atmospherics' afterwards. God, don't I suffer enough of that shit from Conor? Bet you a zillion pounds he makes us suffer through it on tour. (Sorry James)
Sorry Doesn't Help: Didn't think much to this at first, but 'sorry doesn't help' really comes in handy as a catchphrase, you know. It's a bit horsey again. 'Like a QC full of fake humility': I even know the name of that frigging QC now thanks to some Moz fan on Mastermind (she was good). This song has grown on me; once you get over the fact all the average ones sound the same, it's fine.
I'm OK By Myself: Oh, what a title. This song really reminds me of 'You Know I couldn't Last' which ends Quarry and 'At Last I am Born' which ends Ringleaders. It's his typical overblown ending to an album, him just hammering the point home in case you didn't quite catch it yet. Not that that's a bad thing. Something that possibly IS a bad thing is it sounds way too similar to Sorry Doesn't Help and virtually IDENTICAL in the opening bars to Something is Squeezing my Skull. They REALLY like that bass line don't they? Anyhoo. This song did nothing for me at first but has definitely gone up in my estimation. The lyrics 'It's been so, all of my life, why change now? IT HASN'T!' are ridiclous, but it becomes compulsive to shout 'IT HASN'T!' at random things after listening to this a few times. It has a kind of Sorrow Will Come in The End amusement factor to it (lawyer! liar!) I like it when he does silly talky bits. I have no idea WHY he does them, but they are funny.
These lyrics, however, are unforgivable: 'then came an arm around my shoulder, well surely the hand holds a revolver'. Please! Revolver sounds clunky beyond words, and doesn't even rhyme with bloody shoulder. Morrissey, you might as well have stuck 'shoehorn' in there. It hasnt! And also, it doesn't disturb me that you're OK by yourself, I KNOW you like being by yourself! Now stop playing up or you're not getting any sweets.
Interestingly, the song ends in a Bright-Eyesey (yes I have used that twice now, but this is in a positive sense) wall of feedback/ vocoder action. I like it! It's all yodelly/ screamy/ guitary. There should have been lots more of that on the album, it really works. And as such, is a fine ending.
The album does have a kind of raw, live feeling to it, which is really effective, as I think Ringleaders was too over-produced (will he ever do Pigsty without that bloody rain???) I think I like the rocky stuff more than the poppy stuff, but I like the outside the box stuff 'Mama/ Birthday' more than anything. When he really challenges himself, it works beautifully.
I have only read a couple of reviews of Refusal (I like to decide for myself before having other people's opinions foisted upon me) but the 'it sounds like Vauxhall/ Quarry/ Ringleaders' stuff is misleading. It doesn't. At first I was worried it was a bit Ringleaders-ey but really, Ringleaders had one brilliant song on it (two at a push). This album is more well-rounded, more varied (despite my complaints), and I won't mind him hammering it so much on tour.
He's still with us. We will miss him when he's gone. So let's appreciate him NOW. Give him some Moz love.
PS: I look forward to hearing the b-sides & most of all, the giggage.
Monday, 9 February 2009
Dan Savage: Savage Love
I've been meaning to blog about this for AGES now, but I haven't had a dry spell for a while. Well here is said dry-spell.
I have been extolling the virtues of Dan Savage to all my friends since I first happened upon him; the last good thing Morrissey-Solo did for me before it stabbed me in the fucking back was link me up with Dan. He came into my life at JUST the right time, in the deathly quiet of Sachs-gate, when I missed Russell Brand's radio show so much; I needed something else frivolous to obsess about instead. And it came in the form of truly-brilliant gay sex columnist Dan Savage.
I have no idea how popular Dan Savage is in America, but his column is syndicated across various alternative newspapers, I think. I'd like to know more! I wish I'd grow up reading that stuff; yet at the same time I don't. I have learnt some things I probably didn't want to... but most things i'm glad I did. At first it was just like 'this is a freak show' but he has actually really opened my eyes about a lot of things. I'm definitely less judgemental since reading his column and I have had LOADS of good discussions from different topics on his page and in his podcast. I don't agree with 100% of what he says, but I like the way he says it. He feels like a wise old friend and I trust his opinion.
First came Dan's column, Savage Love. The archives go back for YEARS! I am currently on 2003, and dreading hitting the end; I can't tell you how much reading his advice has kept me sane at work when I've been going out of my mind with stress. Five minutes reading about pissing, dog fucking or pegging and I just feel happy again (!) I love the way he talks to people, he is so straight down the line, and it's just as far from the usual advice you get off fucking Dear Deirdre, or Bel Mooney it's unreal. It's really entertaining, and intelligent.
Then Dan filled the void in my ears with his 100+ podcasts. I've been listening backwards and am currently on 21, so I'm definitely running out. I'm sad! I love listening to him telling people to fuck off, or to stop being an arsehole. He sounds and looks exactly as I imagined him too, as well, which is weird.
As well as dishing out great sex advice, he also is a serious advocate for gay marriage. I don't think I really fully understood that gay marriage is a civil rights issue before I listened to Dan; I rather naively thought, 'why do gay people want to get married anyway?' which was a bit idiotic of me. Dan and his boyfriend also have been together many years and now have a teenage son, and when I hear all this fucking bullshit about gay adoption; it makes me so angry that any idiot can breed or get married, yet he can't, or gets judged for it, because of stupid America (and stupid Britain aint much better).
But yeah. I HIGHLY recommend some Savage Love. It's totally GGG.
I have been extolling the virtues of Dan Savage to all my friends since I first happened upon him; the last good thing Morrissey-Solo did for me before it stabbed me in the fucking back was link me up with Dan. He came into my life at JUST the right time, in the deathly quiet of Sachs-gate, when I missed Russell Brand's radio show so much; I needed something else frivolous to obsess about instead. And it came in the form of truly-brilliant gay sex columnist Dan Savage.
I have no idea how popular Dan Savage is in America, but his column is syndicated across various alternative newspapers, I think. I'd like to know more! I wish I'd grow up reading that stuff; yet at the same time I don't. I have learnt some things I probably didn't want to... but most things i'm glad I did. At first it was just like 'this is a freak show' but he has actually really opened my eyes about a lot of things. I'm definitely less judgemental since reading his column and I have had LOADS of good discussions from different topics on his page and in his podcast. I don't agree with 100% of what he says, but I like the way he says it. He feels like a wise old friend and I trust his opinion.
First came Dan's column, Savage Love. The archives go back for YEARS! I am currently on 2003, and dreading hitting the end; I can't tell you how much reading his advice has kept me sane at work when I've been going out of my mind with stress. Five minutes reading about pissing, dog fucking or pegging and I just feel happy again (!) I love the way he talks to people, he is so straight down the line, and it's just as far from the usual advice you get off fucking Dear Deirdre, or Bel Mooney it's unreal. It's really entertaining, and intelligent.
Then Dan filled the void in my ears with his 100+ podcasts. I've been listening backwards and am currently on 21, so I'm definitely running out. I'm sad! I love listening to him telling people to fuck off, or to stop being an arsehole. He sounds and looks exactly as I imagined him too, as well, which is weird.
As well as dishing out great sex advice, he also is a serious advocate for gay marriage. I don't think I really fully understood that gay marriage is a civil rights issue before I listened to Dan; I rather naively thought, 'why do gay people want to get married anyway?' which was a bit idiotic of me. Dan and his boyfriend also have been together many years and now have a teenage son, and when I hear all this fucking bullshit about gay adoption; it makes me so angry that any idiot can breed or get married, yet he can't, or gets judged for it, because of stupid America (and stupid Britain aint much better).
But yeah. I HIGHLY recommend some Savage Love. It's totally GGG.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
Documentary: The World's Most Enhanced Woman and Me
Is this a new series of this, or a repeat? Mark Dolan (i.e. the male Dawn Porter) this week goes to find the women who has deformed herself most grotesquely with boob jobs. I was going to blog this last week when he did the world's cleverest child but it was kind of boring. Give me Dawn having an orgy any day. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this way.
Anyway, this week Fauxis Theroux went to meet women with HUGE boobs. These women made Jordan look like Keira Knightley. I thought this had gone out of fashion, too, but apparently there are still a few mega-freaks out there.
I thought it was interesting to find out 'why', why indeed? Men, money, insecurity?
The first woman he met showed him her old four-and-a-half litre implants, which looked exactly like the kind of bags you take home from the fair with a goldfish in. Nice. It leaked into her body and made her brain swell up. Yummy!
He didn't seem to learn much from the first woman he met; he just seemed to be objectifying her. Hmm. Then he went to meet a big boob fan (i.e. a sleaze). This led him to a woman called Minka who had a stupid amount of cleavage and yorkshire terriers.
Minka had 4 litre breasts and a tiny waist. Each one weighs the equivalent of 4 bags of sugar and they were four times bigger than her head. As Placebo once said, 'there's no escaping gravity.'
Her manager 'Woody' called her 'a commodity' and said 'have you ever seen an Asian that looks like that?' Charmed, I'm sure!
The sad part was, she actually wanted to be a tennis player, but her 'manager' (who also stars with her in the films) decided on another future for her. Sucking his cock and disfiguring herself.
How she can play tennis with those boobs, I have no idea. Mark Dolan stood there looking disgusted, but that was about it.
Next Mark went to Brazil to meet Shayla Hershey who was having an operation to become the most enhanced woman in the world. She doesn't do porn or go topless, she's more of a Jordan figure (without the glamour start in life). Her boobs are so big, she is bent over with a bad back. Great. It was weird watching her jiggling her boobs for photos in the shopping mall. Even Jordan isn't that shameless.
It turned out her boyfriend persuaded her to have the breast implants. Oh dear. It was actually quite disturbing when she was posing for pics straight after her operation; something wasn't right in her head. She didn't seem very happy, did she?
I like it when my blog is about something naughty. Watch my hits go up as disappointed men find my blog instead of enormo-jug action.
Anyway, this week Fauxis Theroux went to meet women with HUGE boobs. These women made Jordan look like Keira Knightley. I thought this had gone out of fashion, too, but apparently there are still a few mega-freaks out there.
I thought it was interesting to find out 'why', why indeed? Men, money, insecurity?
The first woman he met showed him her old four-and-a-half litre implants, which looked exactly like the kind of bags you take home from the fair with a goldfish in. Nice. It leaked into her body and made her brain swell up. Yummy!
He didn't seem to learn much from the first woman he met; he just seemed to be objectifying her. Hmm. Then he went to meet a big boob fan (i.e. a sleaze). This led him to a woman called Minka who had a stupid amount of cleavage and yorkshire terriers.
Minka had 4 litre breasts and a tiny waist. Each one weighs the equivalent of 4 bags of sugar and they were four times bigger than her head. As Placebo once said, 'there's no escaping gravity.'
Her manager 'Woody' called her 'a commodity' and said 'have you ever seen an Asian that looks like that?' Charmed, I'm sure!
The sad part was, she actually wanted to be a tennis player, but her 'manager' (who also stars with her in the films) decided on another future for her. Sucking his cock and disfiguring herself.
How she can play tennis with those boobs, I have no idea. Mark Dolan stood there looking disgusted, but that was about it.
Next Mark went to Brazil to meet Shayla Hershey who was having an operation to become the most enhanced woman in the world. She doesn't do porn or go topless, she's more of a Jordan figure (without the glamour start in life). Her boobs are so big, she is bent over with a bad back. Great. It was weird watching her jiggling her boobs for photos in the shopping mall. Even Jordan isn't that shameless.
It turned out her boyfriend persuaded her to have the breast implants. Oh dear. It was actually quite disturbing when she was posing for pics straight after her operation; something wasn't right in her head. She didn't seem very happy, did she?
I like it when my blog is about something naughty. Watch my hits go up as disappointed men find my blog instead of enormo-jug action.
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
MTV: Pete Doherty in 24 Hours
I'm a bit behind on this one, but I only just read about it in Heat (yeah, yeah) and watched it on the MTV site. Why do I do it to myself?
I went into this show hating Pete Doherty passionately. I hated the way he treated his band, and I hated his mentality; blaming everyone but himself for being a screw-up. But worse, I hate the apologists around him, treating him like an incorrigible little scamp, not capable of making his own decisions, whereas the truth is, he's unreliable because he's a drug addict. The whole premise of the show 'will he turn up' is patronising; will he turn up, or will he be too busy stuffing heroin into his bloodstream (as it turned out, I think he combined the two)? Lovely. Very moral of you, MTV.
His 'friend' Anthony who wanted him to do the catwalk show (to advertise HIS label) clearly has his own agenda. I never did buy that libertine dream.
Oh dear; it was worse than I thought. Doherty looked like death, like Jarvis Cocker reimagined by Tim Burton then thrown in the dustbin for 75 years. His house made Edward Scissorhands' derelict castle look chi-chi, with intermittent electricity and drawing on the walls. I stopped drawing on the walls around about aged 3.
Aside from that, he's totally lost his marbles too, rambling on about ghosts throwing a party in his house, a deer's head being dumped in there, and a half-man half beast 'werewolf thing' sleeping in one of his cars.
Is he fit to look after all those cats? I sound like the Daily Mail myself, but he doesn't seem capable of looking after himself, contradicting himself and going off on wild tangents. He seemed vulnerable and MTV were exploiting him.
When he said he spent Christmas alone, and then was scrabbling through his rent demands and saying he sleeps in the chair, I just felt very sad for him.
The rest of the show had all the authenticity of Peaches Geldof's magazine programme, i.e. none. The 'tension' was non-existent. Will Carl and Pete perform together? Who gives a shit, they're both hopeless. Their problem was they believed their own hype.
It was a bit disturbing when Pete looked like he was having a fit in the back of the cab and everyone just laughed at him. The state of him when he did that gig was disgusting, he was caked in sweat and looked off his head. The fans are culpable as far as I'm concerned; it's just a freak show.
Oh he did duet with Carl. So that's alright then. The whole show was a weird mish-mash of fake, juxtaposed with the whole Pete bit which was so tawdry. It's fair enough having a laugh at Jodie Marsh; she knows what she's in for. Or Peaches; she's an easy target, and I'm sure she can take it. But Pete looks headed for death to me. And yeah, I used to hate him. But after this; I just feel sorry for him. He's a state. He makes Winehouse look like Barbados Barbie and he needs help.
I went into this show hating Pete Doherty passionately. I hated the way he treated his band, and I hated his mentality; blaming everyone but himself for being a screw-up. But worse, I hate the apologists around him, treating him like an incorrigible little scamp, not capable of making his own decisions, whereas the truth is, he's unreliable because he's a drug addict. The whole premise of the show 'will he turn up' is patronising; will he turn up, or will he be too busy stuffing heroin into his bloodstream (as it turned out, I think he combined the two)? Lovely. Very moral of you, MTV.
His 'friend' Anthony who wanted him to do the catwalk show (to advertise HIS label) clearly has his own agenda. I never did buy that libertine dream.
Oh dear; it was worse than I thought. Doherty looked like death, like Jarvis Cocker reimagined by Tim Burton then thrown in the dustbin for 75 years. His house made Edward Scissorhands' derelict castle look chi-chi, with intermittent electricity and drawing on the walls. I stopped drawing on the walls around about aged 3.
Aside from that, he's totally lost his marbles too, rambling on about ghosts throwing a party in his house, a deer's head being dumped in there, and a half-man half beast 'werewolf thing' sleeping in one of his cars.
Is he fit to look after all those cats? I sound like the Daily Mail myself, but he doesn't seem capable of looking after himself, contradicting himself and going off on wild tangents. He seemed vulnerable and MTV were exploiting him.
When he said he spent Christmas alone, and then was scrabbling through his rent demands and saying he sleeps in the chair, I just felt very sad for him.
The rest of the show had all the authenticity of Peaches Geldof's magazine programme, i.e. none. The 'tension' was non-existent. Will Carl and Pete perform together? Who gives a shit, they're both hopeless. Their problem was they believed their own hype.
It was a bit disturbing when Pete looked like he was having a fit in the back of the cab and everyone just laughed at him. The state of him when he did that gig was disgusting, he was caked in sweat and looked off his head. The fans are culpable as far as I'm concerned; it's just a freak show.
Oh he did duet with Carl. So that's alright then. The whole show was a weird mish-mash of fake, juxtaposed with the whole Pete bit which was so tawdry. It's fair enough having a laugh at Jodie Marsh; she knows what she's in for. Or Peaches; she's an easy target, and I'm sure she can take it. But Pete looks headed for death to me. And yeah, I used to hate him. But after this; I just feel sorry for him. He's a state. He makes Winehouse look like Barbados Barbie and he needs help.
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