All I want is something I can write about

Little Kielbasa
Image courtesy of acoustitch

I received a mention on Twitter yesterday from a complete stranger (say hello Daniel) saying what a great blog I had. Kind words indeed but the random kudos did spark a reminder that I have not really updated this space in a while.

Sure, you've all taken delight in my past tales of Fantasy Football and over indulgence in the Robert Palmer songbook but what have I done for you lately? Bubkis that's what!

Truthfully though, my happiness has become my weakness: I am now in a relationship.

Last time I was with someone, I recall that it was difficult to put head to pen to paper. This was in the days before blogging became something non-nerds did so I have nothing by way of example to show for any past lulls in my output.

Perhaps being in a relationship puts things into perspective? Perhaps this wonderful thing I am in means that defending girl groups becomes somehow irrelevant? Perhaps the trivial things don't mean as much now?

I don't think that's necessarily the case (though sticking up for Girls Aloud shall be put down to sleep deprivation on a Trans-Atlantic flight). My current belief (and I hope to be proven wrong) is that the energy and excitement I used to express myself when I was single is now directed towards my relationship leaving me without a desire to write.

What I do hope is that my relationship inspires me to write about new and interesting topics with renewed vigour. Perhaps all I need is a little time for those effects to rub off.

So to my small band of followers, I apologise if I'm not around here as often.

To the girl who has my heart: I'll see you on Friday for a pizza and a Gig.

Ladies and gentlemen; here in my right hand I have a copy of...

...my ten favourite albums of 2009.

It is funny because this list came fairly quickly to me. There was no internal debating or wrangling on what deserved to be included and what didn't just a clear decision on what stood out in my mind this year. Now this isn't the best albums to have been released, (I will leave that to the hipsters and those that apparently know better), they are simply my favourites.

Presented here (in no real order) are those ten:

Jen Cloher & The Endless Sea- Hidden Hands

A beautiful sophomore release from the Melbourne songstress and her brilliant music collective.

Jamie Cullum - The Pursuit

The pint sized Jazz pianist/vocalist is still putting a new spin on old standards but it's his original songs that make him one of my favourite musicians.

Doves - Kingdom Of Rust

British trio's most complete work yet. In a perfect world, 'Winter Hill' would be a number one smash.

Swell Season - Strict Joy

It is one thing to break up in the public eye. It is another thing entirely to record an album about it when you are in the same band. Glenn Hansard & Marketa Irglova do both and pull it off with dignity (and another great album to boot).

Manic Street Preachers - Journal For Plague Lovers

A leftover scrapbook full of lyrics from the missing Richey Edwards is the source for The Manics most abrasive album since The Holy Bible. Also one of their best.

Pearl Jam - Backspacer

Seattle journeymen finally have a bit of fun. This should have happened years ago.

Phoenix - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Everything great about Phoenix can be found right here.

Pete Yorn - Back & Forth

After two disjointed albums, New Jersey native Yorn finds the right balance of forlorn ('Don't Wanna Cry') and bittersweet ('Last Summer) tunes.

7 Worlds Collide - The Sun Came Out

This will more than tide me over until the new Crowded House album. Neil Finn and Friends once again check their egos at the door for a good cause, in the process releasing some of the years best music.

Parallel Lions - Holding Patterns

If I had to choose just one album from this list it would probably be this. A new venture from Art Of Fighting's Ollie Browne, Holding Patterns is an embarrassment of riches: Grand sonic landscapes, brilliant drumming and Browne's golden voice. Oh, and the tune 'Separated' - the best five minutes committed to disc this year.

Salus populi suprema lex esto: An extract from Exit

“John Mellencamp is not from Missouri dickhead!”

“What are you talking about?” exclaimed Rod.

“Yeah, what are you talking about?” added Scott who was trying to focus on his driving.

“What do you mean What am I talking about? He’s not from Missouri.”

“Are you sure? I’m quite certain he’s from Missouri.”

Matt shakes his head.

“And I’m quite certain you haven’t the faintest fucking clue as to the birth place of John Mellencamp.”

Hand To Hold On To was playing on the radio and Rod thought it was fortuitous considering the van they were in was currently stretching across the Missouri blacktops.

“But Matt, wasn’t Scarecrow all about Missouri?”

They had been in this van for a few weeks now and they assumed that eventually the cramped conditions were going to take its toll. No one expected it would be this soon or about something as ridiculous as the home state of an 80s pop star.

“Rod, Scarecrow is about Middle America, not just Missouri.”

Davey, who until this point was quietly ignoring the inane conversation, chimed in.

“Uhh…I think Rod is right on this Matt.”

“And I think the pair of you are fucking idiots!”

“Hey!” yelled Cam, putting down his writing pad and sort of half standing/half crouching from his seat in the back of van.

“What?” cried Matt incredulously.

“Is this really something to get worked up over? John friggin’ Mellencamp? Jesus, at least argue about something decent.”

He turned to the other three.

“Guys, he was born in Indiana. Argument over.”

Cam then sat down and continued writing.

“I bet you didn’t know that Matt.”

This was Rod.

“Of course I did, and I’m not going to sit here and be lectured by a guy who thought that Levi Strauss was the lead singer of The Four Tops.”

“Are you sure he is from Indiana?” Davey asked Cam.

Cam was getting pretty pissed at this point. He had this great stream of lyrics going on and the last thing he needed was an impromptu version of Never Mind The Buzzcocks going on around him.

“Why would I lie to you Davey?”

Davey could detect the strain in Cam’s voice so he went back to reading Rum Diary. It was weird the different relationships in the band. Davey the keyboardist and the bassist Cam were close friends before the band began so they understood and appreciated each other’s limits. Their vocalist Matt and guitarist Rod on the other hand would take any opportunity to piss each other off. Scott, as the drummer, or the current drummer anyway kept to himself. They held a mutual respect for one another but every once and awhile their ego’s dictated the state of play. It was then up to the rest of the band to intervene.

Silence enveloped the van. Someone had had the good sense to turn the music off amidst the argument (no doubt it was Scott) and all of a sudden it was just five lonely Aussie souls travelling through the land of hope and dreams.

“Cam, what are we doing here, really?”

It was Matt, speaking softly which was something new for him. He had quietly made his way to the back of the van and joined Cam who was feverishly writing away until he was interrupted.

Cam was thrown by the question. He wondered if Matt was asking about Missouri specifically? Matt pre-empted the notion.

“I mean this tour in general,” he said, leaning in a little closer to try and create a little privacy in the already snug conditions.

“We’re all unhappy to be here and the crowds are less than enthusiastic. Mate, what’s the point of it all?”

Cam couldn’t help but smirk at the situation, in particular Matt’s line of questioning, as it was the singer himself that had wished long ago to break North America.

“It’s called character building Matty, nothing more. We knew this was going to be a rough ride. Not everyone in Lincoln, Nebraska reads the NME or cares what Jo Whiley has to say about anything. And let’s not kid ourselves, we’re not exactly Radiohead ourselves mate.”

“Matt you watch, by the time we are back in London we will be better for the experience. It is shit like this tour that will keep us grounded.”

Matt nodded in agreement. He not only knew that Cam was right but that he was also the only one that could bring him around.

“In the meantime, don’t rag on Rod and the others over the little things. I don’t want us to be known as the band that broke up because we couldn’t agree on where the guy who wrote ‘Jack and fucking Diane’ was born!”

Matt laughed at the triviality of the whole thing.

“You’re right Cam. I apologise.”

Cam shook his head.

“Don’t apologise to me, I’m not the one you called a ‘fucking idiot’.”

Matt looked back towards the others. Scott had turned the radio back on an Mister Mister’s ‘Broken Wings’ was playing. The other three were singing along, having already forgotten the altercation a few minutes ago.

“Yeah I know.”

Matt turned his attention to Cameron’s note pad.

“So what do have going on here?” he gestured at Cam’s writing.

“Well I thought you would never ask. Go and fetch me Rod’s acoustic and come back here. I think I’m on to a winner.”

As Matt made for the guitar, Cam took in the open fields whipping by. He conceded the crowds were poor and it was a tough slog but he was enjoying the challenge. Besides, it allowed him to see parts of America he may otherwise have missed if he was simply vacationing. As a child, he and his brother were used to moving from town to town because of his father’s job so the transient nature of being on tour was oddly comforting for Cameron.

“Allrighty, let’s hear what you’ve got,” requested Matt, handing over Rod’s Maton to Cam in the process.

“Well the lyrics are by no means finished. I need a third verse and the bridge could do with a rewrite but it could be something to go with that sweet little riff Rod had going the other day.”

“Nice.”

When Rod had played it to them back in St Louis they all loved it. The only problem was that it reminded them of a Robbie King number. Robbie had obviously been on their minds during the past week and a half so it was not surprising that he had been influential on their current creative process. At the time, Rod had prefaced this before playing them the riff.

“Hey guys,” Rod said that morning over coffee in a near empty diner.

“You know how we’ve been wanting to play a King song as a tribute? Well I woke up this morning with what I thought was a tune of his. Yet buggered if I know which one it is!”

Rod assumed if anyone would know it would be either Cam or Davey as they were by far the biggest Robbie King fans in the band. So Rod played them the riff a few times over. Cam and Davey exchanged glances, both searching deep within their musical memory bank for a match.

Neither of them could pick it.

Davey sucked some air through his teeth and looked crestfallen as he shot a glance across at Cam.

“Between us we have everything King ever did. What you played isn’t one of his, but damned if it doesn’t sound like it.”

Cam concurred.

“Davey’s right. It is everything a King tune would be but it doesn’t exist.”

“Not even a B-side?” ventured Scott.

Cam and Davey shook their heads in unison.

“If he was here, Dan would back us up on this. It’s not a Robbie King tune.”

Matt then chimed in.

“I’ll take both your words for it, including Dan’s, but if this riff turns into something we use then we’ll run it past the lawyers.”

“Just to be safe is all,” he assured them.

“So Rod, do you have any words to go with it?”

Rod laughed at the idea.

“Fuck Matt! The music only came to me a few hours ago. Besides, the lyrics aren’t my department. Do you have any?”

And it was that challenge that brought Matt and Cam to huddle around an acoustic and a notebook in the back of a van as it coasted through the farming states.

In Case Some Of You Are Wondering Who The Best Is

In an effort to stop the senseless violence and destruction of our planet, Jeebus has bestowed upon me the brave task of working out once and for all what the 10 best songs of all time are*. It is hoped that with the unveiling of this list all war will cease, the global economy can recover and teenagers can be a happy lot once more.

Have you noticed them lately? They seem to be a sad bunch what with their 'woe is me' music and their moody vampire novels. Anyway, it will all be a thing of the past once they take a butchers at these classic tunes. The fact they are all from the 80s is pure coincidence and proof that music peaked two decades ago:

(In chronological order)

1. Somebody's Baby - Jackson Browne
2. Wouldn't It Be Good - Nik Kershaw
3. Out Of Touch - Hall & Oates
4. I Can Dream About You - Dan Hartman
5. Invisible Touch - Genesis
6. Stuck With You - Huey Lewis & The News
7. Higher Love - Steve Winwood
8. Live It Up - Mental As Anything
9. Love Changes (Everything) - Climie Fisher
10. King Of Wishful Thinking - Go West

*Apologies to Starship

Three songs beat as one: Exhibit A

1978:


1988:


2009:

Postcards From The Southern Culture

If New York was 5th gear heading into overdrive then I experienced significant whiplash when I landed in Little Rock, Arkansas.

I couldn't think of a better way to end my trip than to spend a week in the South, taking in the endless fields of green, good food, great beers and a healthy dose of music.

The first few days were spent at Robyn and Dan's lake house in Hot Springs Village and it gave me a chance to unwind, eat a home cooked meal (Robyn cooked me Maltese food!) and catch up with some life long friends.

Between boat rides on the lake and catfishin' we visited the quaint town of Hot Springs (home of the Gangster Museum and erm Hot Springs) and Little Rock where we checked out the Clinton Presidential Library. Because Dan has a passing resemblance for Bubba, there were a few double takes at the Library which was a bit of fun.

We then loaded up for the RV trip to Memphis and Nashville across the state lines in Tennessee. The journey itself is great fun with Mel the Labrador jockying for a good spot in the RV and the three of us playing 'Pick the Artist' as we flicked through the radio stations.

Let me say off the bat I did not visit Graceland. While that will shock and disgust some of you I am not disappointed in giving it a pass. There is more than enough to do in Memphis that doesn't involve seeing the home of Elvis.

Besides if I wanted to see a monument to garish opulence belonging to a king then I could have visited one of the many churches that litter the bible belt.

Memphis is a fun town, especially Beale Street and its cool bars full of live Blues and Soul music. BBQ meats are a tradition and a trip to Memphis isn't complete without a plate of ribs and hot wings with a cold beer.

Sun Studios was a blast and I was just as excited to see the place where Elvis and Johnny Cash and Jerry Lee got their start as I was to see the tiny studio where U2 recorded Angel of Harlem.

Also a must is the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel where Martin Luther King Jr was assassinated. Because the exterior looks pretty much like it did in the late 60s then we were prepared for a fairly simple tribute to the great man.

Looks can be deceiving and we were treated to a stunning historical journey of the civil rights movement from the time the slaves arrived to King's death and beyond. Well laid out and presented, it probably stole the show on this little trip.

Presented with a timing issue we had to make a decision whether to visit the Smithsonian Rock and Soul Museum or the Stax Museum. As much as I adore the music from the Stax Label, the Rock and Soul Museum would give us a more complete look at the sounds of Memphis so we went with that.

Nashville was our second stop (another 3 hours East) where I was to get more than my fill of country music. Like Beale Street in Memphis, Nashville has Broadway which is wall to wall Honky Tonk Bars where the people that play on stage also work behind the bar and they work solely on tips. It is here that the bright young things try and get there start and to one day play on the stage of the Grand Ole Opry.

They have a tradition in Nashville called the 'Holler n Swaller' which was mandatory participation. If you were ever involved in the 'drink for drinkies' club back home on the Gold Coast you would get the concept.

We were fortunate that their were no acts performing at the grand Ryman Auditorium that night so we were able to take a back stage tour.

The Ryman was the original home of the Grand Ole Opry until 1974 where it lay abandoned for two decades before being restored and open to music of all genres (Counting Crows and Michael Franti were playing there in a few days time). You get the feeling you are in a church and that is because that is what it was at the end of the 19th Century.

Speaking of churches, there was a Pentecostal Convention in town and you could tell by what people were wearing who was going to the convention and who wanted to hear some down and dirty country music.

The country music hall of fame was an essential stop on the trip but the additional RCA Studio B tour was the highlight. The home of a 1000 top ten hits by the Everly Brothers, Elvis, Roy and Dolly etc. Studio B gave a great insight into the pioneering of the Nashville Sound where they transformed country to appeal to a pop audience.

The final night of trip was a visit to the Grand Ole Opry itself. A twice weekly radio show that has been broadcasting since the 1920s, the Opry is a country music institution and a heck of a lot of fun. Though you know in advance who is performing, they will often have a superstar drop by to sing a song or two.

Our only shock of the night was that legend Charley Pride had hit the bottle before going on stage. Or at least that is what it looked like. Mr Pride, if you weren't drunk then I sincerely apologise.

So I am in the RV heading west for a good sleep and a trip to the airport and finally home. I have one last stop in LA for a few hours where I will catch up with my friend Rachael (Roach if you are reading this then put the beers on ice!) then it is back to Melbourne and reality.

This past week has been a blast (thanks so much Dan & Robyn) and the whole month away has been unbelievable. I go home with a backpack full of life long memories and a recharge of the batteries.

Exactly what a holiday should be.

Reasons why I am a cynic #12

#12

Never trust a company that produces a Universal RV Flag Kit with only one type of flag on offer. It's not really universal is it?