The country lurches back into its usual routine this week. But with the new year comes changes, and a vital part of everyone’s daily life — the radio — will seem very different.

My parents are concerned about what will happen to Radio 2 after the departure of Terry Wogan from breakfast. They were not happy to hear that his replacement will be Chris Evans. My parents originally stopped listening to Radio 1 when Chris Evans took over the Radio 1 breakfast show. (Quite how they tolerated Steve Wright before this is beyond me though.)

I get the feeling that they will stick with Radio 2. Chris Evans is a very different broadcaster to what he was ten or fifteen years ago and has apparently pleased most people with his performances on Radio 2 so far.

While Terry Wogan’s last show was the one that caught all the headlines, the end of two other radio programmes will be far more disruptive to my routine. I was not a listener of Terry Wogan’s, though I don’t suppose I am really part of his target audience.

The end of Adam and Joe

Much bigger news in my world has been the end of Adam and Joe’s programme on BBC 6 Music. They are raising the drawbridge at the Big British Castle for an indefinite period while Joe Cornish focuses on his new career as a film director.

This programme has been a core part of my week for the past two years. It is also unusual because due to its Saturday morning time slot, it has been the only thing that has managed to get me to wake up at a decent hour on a Saturday.

Adam and Joe have an excellent knack of doing a type of humour which is silly but not stupid — a balance that very few manage to strike. This made it ideal listening for the start of the weekend. It was perhaps something to gently lift you out of a mild hangover. The accompanying podcast was also excellent for lifting spirits during your journey into work.

Their gentle humour was mixed with sharp observations on popular culture. Increasingly, towards the end of the programme’s run, listener contributions were a larger part of the programme. Combined with the programme’s elite listening force Black Squadron and the STEPHEN! phenomenon, there was quite a tight-knit community feel to the show.

This was no doubt helped by the fact that it was on BBC 6 Music, jokingly referred to by Adam Buxton as “the secret station”. Even though it was the most popular programme on the station by quite a long way, due to its location in the outer reaches of select DAB sets, Adam and Joe’s was a cosy and understated programme. It is difficult to imagine Adam and Joe’s programme working so well on another, larger radio station.

Adam and Joe’s replacement will be Danny Wallace, who is not quite in the same league. It will leave a huge gap in my Saturday mornings. What else can I listen to? Saturday Live on Radio 4? Sorry, not for me. Jonathan Ross on Radio 2? Possibly. Or will I return to my old ‘default’ radio station, Radio 5 Live, for Danny Baker and Fighting Talk?

Changes at Radio 5 Live

Speaking of Radio 5 Live, that is the source of the other big change to my radio routine. Richard Bacon has vacated the late-night slot to take over from Simon Mayo, who is moving to replace Chris Evans on Drivetime at Radio 2.

I was a fan of Richard Bacon during his first stint on 5 Live in the weekend late-night slot, and he continued to delight when he returned to the station to do weeknights. Given his background, he is surprisingly good at dealing with big issues as well as light-hearted stuff.

He is also unafraid to use humour. It could be so embarrassing (and some would probably say it is), but I think it works well. The interesting bit after 12:30am was entertaining and brave. I can’t think of many other presenters who would get away with completely doing away with news for half an hour every day on Radio 5 Live.

I am greatly regretful that I never managed to get my hands on one of those badges. It was nevertheless an honour and a privilege to listen.

Richard Bacon’s irreverence is what makes him good as a broadcaster, but it’s difficult to see how he can leverage this in his new mid-afternoon slot, one of the most important in 5 Live’s schedule. Most disappointingly, it will be on during the daytime, meaning that I won’t be able to listen to it.

The replacement in the late night slot will be former Daily Sport editor Tony Livesey. I will reserve judgement until I hear the programme. I gather he is actually quite good. But if I don’t take to it, I might take the unusual step of switching to a commercial radio station during weeknights to listen to Iain Lee on Absolute Radio.

Richard Bacon’s move is part of a wider shake-up at Radio 5 Live, which also sees Gabby Logan getting a daily slot. With the day going from the Nicky Campbell Speak You’re Branes hour to Victoria Derbyshire to Gabby Logan, it’s not difficult to see why some people have started to nickname the station Radio 5 Lite.

It’s not quite the quality station I loved just a few years ago. Just now Radio 5 Live seems utterly bereft of ideas, aside from attempting to stealthily change it into a 24/7 Mark Kermode station. At least Up All Night is still good.

If I was being uncharitable, I might suggest that the presenters that remain at the station are the ones who are prepared to make the move to Salford when the station relocates there next year. The logic behind moving a radio station that covers news (most of which happens in London) to Manchester is still beyond me, I have to admit.

On the bright side…

It’s not all bad news on the radio front. In addition to his new daytime Radio 5 Live slot, Richard Bacon has a Saturday afternoon programme on 6 Music. He promises to take some of the jollity of his late night 5 Live show to 6 Music. But who listens to radio at that time? Not me.

I might make space in my Sunday afternoons for 6 Music though. Jarvis Cocker will have a new programme alongside the already-excellent Freak Zone.

But weekend mornings will still be a problem. And I’ll need a new comedy podcast to replace Adam and Joe. Does anyone have any suggestions? (Not Collings and Herrin — I tried it, and it was crap.)

Continuing my look at 20 Warp albums from Warp’s 20 years. For other articles in this series, please see the table of contents to the right. Albums are presented in randomised order.

Broadcast — The Noise Made by People

This was the first Warp album I ever bought, and it remains a favourite of mine to this day. Broadcast’s music is heavily steeped in 1960s influence, and comparisons with Stereolab are commonplace (and not inaccurate). But they sound anything but derivative.

The Noise Made by People has a dark and slightly creepy aesthetic. Most of the album creeps along at a rather slow pace. Then there are Trish Keenan’s almost robotic vocals. The music itself — largely based on 1960s-style electronic instruments — could almost be transmitted directly from that decade, complete with unsettling background noise.

Put together, this all gives the music a rather otherworldly vibe. It is as though you are listening to a ghostly music that has been trapped in the airwaves since the 1960s and has only just escaped.

Funnily enough, the real life story of the recording of this album is similar to the picture I have just described. It is said that Broadcast struggled with the recording of the album, and it took three years to make. Perhaps this is another reason why it sounds clinical, though it’s all the more captivating for it.

Since The Noise Made by People, Broadcast have reduced in size to become just the core duo of Trish Keenan and James Cargill. In turn, the music has become less dense and more raw, and has lost the otherworldly qualities of their earlier material. Although Broadcast is still a good band, I feel that they were definitely at their peak with this album.

This video for ‘Come On Let’s Go’ captures the aesthetic of the album really well:

Tortoise — Standards

Many feel that Tortoise were at their strongest in the 1990s. I did not discover them until 2001, so maybe I am biased in that sense. But I think that the band was at the height of its creative powers with Standards.

Quite simply, it was one of the most unique-sounding albums I had ever heard and remains one of my favourite listens to this day. The effortless fusion of punchy rock, cutting-edge electronic music, multi-layered drumming and jazz makes this an extraordinarily bold album that captivates you from start to finish.

If ever there was an album that was definitively not just ‘going through the motions’, it is surely Standards — despite its title. This record documents Tortoise standing on the very edge of what is possible with rock music. I find it impossible to become bored of this album. There is so much going on in so many layers.

Each instrument would be fascinating to listen to on its own (this was proved when the rhythm section of Tortoise released an album of drums and little else called Bumps). Each band member is doing his own thing. And yet, everything here makes a perfect fit.

Nothing Tortoise have produced since then has come close to reaching the standard of Standards. But then again, few albums by any bad do.

This is the video for the attention-grabbing album opener, ‘Seneca’:

Seefeel – Succour

I only discovered this album a few years ago — probably over a decade after it was originally released. But I am glad I opted to buy it. The music is from the place where ambient, shoegaze, indie and techno all converge. The allure of Seefeel comes from its mixture of ambient-style drones and textures, techno-influenced minimalist drums and guitars, and the dreamy, processed vocals of singer Sarah Peacock.

Although superficially it feels like a pure techno / IDM album, the use of guitars and live drums was unusual for a Warp release at that time. This is what led Steve Beckett to recently single it out as “the first sacreligious move”.

Musically, Succour is a fabulous success. But if you thought this was the evidence that guitars could happily sit in a techno environment, think again. Apparently due to Mark Clifford’s efforts to push the band in a more electronic direction, the old artistic differences emerged and the band only lasted a few years after the release of Succour.

In a way, I feel as though I have missed out by not experiencing this music when it was first released. It must have been so incredibly exciting, at the cutting edge, when it was released. It would be interesting to hear what this band would come up with today.

Incredibly, Seefeel have recently re-formed. Initially this was for a one-off gig as part of the Warp20 celebrations. But there are now hints that Seefeel have also been in the studio. I can’t wait to hear any results that might come out of this.

Chris Morris — Blue Jam

Chris Morris, as one of Britain’s most influential satirists, probably needs little introduction. But few may immediately associate him with Warp Records. But Warp has been the outlet for a lot of his material, including the CD releases of the radio series On the Hour and his Bafta-winning short film My Wrongs #8245-8249 & 117 among other bits and pieces. Warp Films is also backing his current project, Four Lions.

But his first CD on Warp was a compilation of sketches from his experimental radio programme, Blue Jam (which was later turned into the television series Jam). This was a dark comedy, equal parts disturbing and funny. Unusually, the sketches were surrounded by a constant backdrop of ambient music (much of which was originally released on Warp) from the likes of Aphex Twin. Perhaps even more unusually, the show was originally broadcast on Radio 1. It inhabited a late-night slot which fitted with the programme’s surreal, woozy and nightmarish style.

The series contained a mixture of music and comedy; of the surreal and the disturbing; of sketches and monologues. Most of it was a world away from his previous material, though from time to time Morris would drop in one of his infamous interviews. Here, he flummoxes posthumous Diana biographer Andrew Morton.

A meetup of bloggers is planned for next week in Edinburgh.

Having looked at the initial round of feedback, I have decided that two dates in particular stand out as the most suitable: 25 or 27 August. Alternative possibilities are 26 or 28 August. Personally, I am erring towards 25 August, but if more people can come on one of the other dates we can go with that.

So that I can get a sense of everyone’s availability, I have set up a poll so that people who are thinking of attending can let us know which dates suit best. We will probably go with the date that has the most votes.

I know, I know. Voting is often a pointless activity. But may I remind you that it is your civic duty to vote. Plus, with the relatively small numbers that will be attending I can assure you that your p will be relatively large.

We are also thinking about going to see a show at the Fringe as part of the meetup. This may not be to everyone’s taste — some might prefer to chat and do meetup-type stuff.

Jeff has suggested NewsRevue, which starts at 6pm at the Pleasance Courtyard. Stephen has suggested About the Scots which is at 8pm at the Beehive Inn on the Grassmarket.

Personally, I am erring towards NewsRevue because it might end up being cheaper (Jeff says he might be able to get half price tickets). Also, the earlier start time means that people can avoid it more easily if they wish by just popping along a bit later, and it leaves more time for chat after the show has finished.

If you would rather not go to see a show though, I have included that as an option on the poll too.

Of course, the choice of show almost makes our choice of venue for us, so I will wait until we have settled on an answer before we finalise those plans.

I will take the poll results as they stand at noon on Friday which gives you about two days to vote, while giving people plenty of time to plan ahead for the meetup if they need to.

Thanks!

Years ago, this blog had a little button on it. Where today you see little logos for Amnesty International and No2ID, there used to be a button that said “I believe in the BBC”. It was to back this campaign, which was one of the things that got me hooked on blogging. I couldn’t believe how much of a stitch-up the Hutton Report seemed, and I wanted to stand up for what was the best broadcaster in the UK.

Some time during the intervening five years I removed the button from my blog. I had decided that I actually don’t really believe in the BBC. Of course, over time I have become more and more disillusioned with the mainstream media in general, and my opinion of the BBC has fallen south along with the rest of the mainstream media.

But I have found myself becoming particularly frustrated with the BBC’s apparent fear of its own shadow. It is pretty clear that this neurotic period of the BBC’s history began with the Hutton Report, and has been more recently exacerbated by a never-ending stream of overblown tabloid-generated nowtrage.

Of course, the lame tabloid stone-throwing is practically as old as the BBC itself. The difference is that after the Hutton Report, the BBC has appeared to actually believe that the tabloids have a point. What we needed after Hutton was a BBC that stood its ground and believed in its principles. Instead, it has become a blundering, self-loathing embarrassment; a stumbling colossus.

Nowadays, if a tabloid kicks up a bit of a fuss over, say, a bit of post-watershed swearing, the BBC doesn’t roll its eyes and ignore it like the majority of its viewers and listeners do. Instead, it trumps the tabloids, immediately making it the top story in all of its bulletins.

BBC News journalists then begin conducting fierce two-ways with BBC managers, and viewers are treated to a bizarre self-flagellation session lasting several days. The BBC sternly questions the BBC about its own outrageous conduct. After several days or even weeks have passed it quietly snaps out of it — only for another scandal to come along and the whole cycle begins again.

Take the television fakery scandals that engulfed the BBC a couple of years ago. Somehow, the fact that Blue Peter changed the name of a cat became the most shocking thing ever and threatened the very future of the BBC. I knew that because the BBC itself kept on saying so.

The fact that the commercial broadcasters had spent the previous few years building an entire genre of programming — the late night phone-in quiz programme — that was dedicated to deviously extracting cash from its viewers got swept under the carpet. Everybody was too busy watching the BBC break down in what you might call a Cookie crumble.

It was right that the BBC made changes following the scandals. But the difference in approach between the commercial broadcasters and the BBC was huge. Premium rate competitions were quick to make a return on commercial channels, with a bit more small print. But on the BBC, to this day the world “competition” is practically a swear word. Pre-recorded radio programmes are littered with apologies and warnings about the fact. The BBC’s paranoid fear of another scandal is getting in the way of its programming.

Then there is the Jonathan Ross and Russell Brandwagon, when the BBC inexplicably allowed a rather rude phone call dominate the news agenda for several days. While the economy was actually collapsing, the BBC almost willed itself on to implosion. When a bold BBC should have been responsibly reporting important news (which there was plenty of), instead the nervy BBC we’ve got occupied itself by poking its navel.

I found the BBC’s reaction quite seriously worrying. Even though the phone calls were a bit over the line, the reaction was completely out of proportion. And it has the potential to set a worrying trend, for the reasons Charlie Brooker pointed out.

The BBC is surely supposed to be there to do things that commercial broadcasters are either unable or unwilling to do. By definition, this means making challenging programming — programming that might not meet with popular approval. And in comedy in particular, that means pushing the boundaries.

The BBC’s decision to wave the white flag over the Russell Brand hoo-ha was basically a conscious decision to undermine the principles by which the BBC is supposed to exist. It follows that if the BBC believes it shouldn’t make distinctive comedy programming, why should it make distinctive programming at all?

The result is that we now have a BBC which is paralysed by a fear of criticism. It has become too self-conscious, and when the spotlight is on it nervously stumbles around. It’s not exactly the BBC we’re all supposed to be proud of.

The latest scandal to hit the BBC, over the DEC’s Gaza appeal broadcast, exhibits the BBC’s fear well. Knowing that the Israel–Palestine issue is so thorny, particularly given the right wing’s frequent criticism of the BBC’s coverage, it was caught like a rabbit in the headlights.

The first of the justifications given by Mark Thompson for choosing not to broadcast the appeal is that aid might not be delivered properly. That would be fair enough. It would be strange, though, if the BBC knew better about this than the DEC, a group comprising of thirteen charities dedicated to delivering aid properly.

The other (“more fundamental”) justification was the fear that the BBC might be seen to be impartial. It’s interesting to note that Mark Thompson never says that broadcasting the appeal actually would undermine the BBC’s impartiality. He is just concerned about the perception.

The BBC is perfectly entitled to decline to broadcast a DEC appeal. But the fact that it has allowed its fear of the public’s reaction to get in the way is worrying. It is yet another sign that the BBC is no longer prepared to be the bold public service broadcaster it’s supposed to be. And, of course, it brought a fresh round of awkward interviews between BBC journalists and BBC bosses.

It all makes for uncomfortable viewing and listening. It is clear that just now the BBC has very little belief in itself. So how should license fee payers be expected to believe in it?

I’ve had a busy week. I’ve not blogged here for a week so I’ll ease into this. No heavy politics stuff. Here goes. Do you listen to the Adam and Joe radio show on BBC 6 Music? If not, you should.

Why? Well, this programme has single-handedly made me do two things I would probably never otherwise do. For one, it has got me listening to 6 Music. But perhaps more significantly, it has made me wake up early on Saturdays. And Saturday morning radio is normally a complete entertainment void and intellectual desert, so it was such a relief to discover that Adam and Joe had got a radio gig at that time around a year ago.

It has always confused me why this pair of funny chaps aren’t just all over the place. About a decade ago they had a late night Channel 4 programme with all kinds of japes and tomfoolery like Quizzlestick and miscellaneous spoofs involving Star Wars figurines.

After that, not much of note happened on the Adam and Joe front for ages. But last year they broke into the Big British Castle and managed to get a radio show. And it’s hilarious! Here’s a clip from the radio show introducing the world to juvenilia superhero ‘STEPHEN!’

The programme is perfect for the Saturday morning vibe. It is a pleasing mix of easy chit-chat, silly voices, amusing observations on pop culture and juvenile toilet humour (all plus points for me). And because the pair have known each other since school, the chemistry is awesome.

If you’re not awake on time on Saturday morning (and I am usually not), the podcast is a great way to catch all the laughs. Over the past year, it has become my favourite podcast. Only yesterday I was on the train laughing like a drain, only to discover when I recovered that the ticket inspector was waiting for me.

The highlight of the show is Song Wars, where Adam and Joe both enter songs on a particular topic for the listeners to vote on. It’s quite incredible, because normally the comedy song genre has a bad whiff around it and is to be avoided. But Adam and Joe avoid all the pitfalls to regularly produce amusing songs that are often silly* and witty in equal measure. Read below the fold so that I can pester you to listen to some of them.

Click for more »

Sorry to make my first post for a couple of weeks a meme. I was much busier than I expected last week, and with a grand prix this week my blogging activities were focussed on vee8. I’ll still be busy this week but Steven Hill has tagged me in a meme and these are quick posts to do so I may as well do it.

I have to say where I was when each of these events happened.

Princess Diana’s death – 31 August 1997

I was in bed. I first heard about it when my brother came into my room wanting to play the PlayStation but ended up watching the television a bit instead. At first I thought it must have been the Queen Mother who had died, and when I found out it was only Princess Diana I struggled to see what the fuss was about. Never liked her.

Margaret Thatcher’s resignation – 22 November 1990

No recollection whatsoever. I did know of a time when Thatcher was Prime Minister, and I of course remember John Major being in charge. But I remember nothing of the transition.

Attack on the twin towers – 11 September 2001

I remember this very clearly. I was at school in my German Writing class. The first time I realised something was up was when the lesson hadn’t started after we had been sitting there for ten or fifteen minutes. Our teacher was constantly moving between the classroom and the staff room. I didn’t mind because German Writing was my least favourite subject at that time.

Eventually our teacher wheeled the television through and said, “I’m going to show you this because it’s very important and there will be a lot of consequences” (or words to that effect). I was a bit peeved that he chose ITN over the BBC, but never mind. One of my strongest memories is the fact that one certain person in our class particularly struggled to grasp what was happening. In retrospect, I suppose he was right to be so sceptical of the idea that people would be mad enough to delibrately crash planes into buildings.

Of course, we did not get any learning done in that class. Of course, not everyone’s teachers wheeled the television through like ours did. I suppose most teachers will have been completely oblivious. It was the major talking point among my classmates after school, but people from other classes thought we were tacking the mickey.

It was also strange going home, and I got the feeling that I could kind of tell who knew what was happening and who didn’t. I remember seeing a few people driving cars who obviously looked like they were listening to what was happening on the radio. When I got home my parents were both in the living room watching the television (my dad had the day off for some reason that I can’t remember). I carried on watching it for around two hours.

England’s World Cup Semi Final v Germany in – 4 July 1990

I have no recollection of this match in particular, but I was aware of Italia 90. I liked the mascot, ‘Ciao’! I also took in the design of the graphics used during the matches — an early example of my interest in television presentation.

President Kennedy’s Assassination – 22 November 1963

I was 23 years away from being born.

I now I need to decide who to tag:

• Onebrow
• Jack Deighton
• MatGB
• Colin Campbell
• Mr Eugenides

This week a university lecturer, Ken Smith, suggested that spelling “mistakes” should be accepted as variants. This has upset Ideas of Civilisation and Colin Campbell among others.

I side with Ken Smith on this occasion though. I hate spelling mistakes and love to point them out. Only yesterday I saw a greengrocers’ apostrophe and instinctively growled. But that is only because I am a cheeky wee pedant. Deep down, I know that the rules of the English language are strange and, ultimately, pointless.

What is the purpose of language? I would say language is what allows people to communicate with each other. Accordingly, rules should develop naturally, and as long as the two parties communicating understand each other all is well. However, for grammar fascists, language rules are just an opportunity to crack the whip.

It is worth remembering that a strict one-size-fits-all suite of language rules is a very modern concept. Standardised spellings only came in when some smart fellow decided to become the first lexicographer and hoodwink people into believing his services were vital.

William Shakespeare did not even have a standardised spelling for his own name. Was he wrong? If we follow the joke that the easiest mark in an exam is for spelling your name correctly, it looks like Shakespeare himself would have failed his English GCSE.

Now, hopefully you have noticed that I like to take care over my spelling and suchlike. But this is a personal choice that I took because I believe that adhering to these rules allows me to reach the widest audience possible. That, and it means I don’t get bombarded by complaints from snobs.

If someone else is content to spell things incorrectly but can still convey their message to its intended recipient then that is their personal choice. There is nothing wrong with people deciding how they can speak and write for themselves.

Language has always evolved naturally, and I see no reason why that should stop now. The purpose of a dictionary is to record language as it is written, not to tell people how to write it. If different people spell things in different ways, then that is just part of life’s rich tapestry.

After all, we tolerate and even celebrate — and rightly so — variations in pronunciation in the English language. Only the snobbiest of snobs would demand that everyone speaks RP. In this age where regional accents are celebrated, we usually find we have no trouble understanding people. So why should people also be expected to write in the same bland, standardised, colourless RP all the time?

What gets me is the sheer snobbery of some people who insist on “correct” spellings. Who is to say that you are right and they are wrong? Closing your ears and stomping your feet complaining about how thick the other person is does not get anyone anywhere. Is there not room for some give and take, just as there is when having a conversation with people who have a different accent?

Ideas of Civilisation attempted to show how ludicrous Ken Smith’s suggestion is by filling his post with a myriad of misspellings. Of course, were Ken Smith’s idea to take hold and language was allowed to evolve naturally, we almost certainly would not face a wholesale dumping of the dictionary, with standards completely replaced by arbitrariness. Instead, new standards would emerge while the most common misspellings would be tolerated.

Txt spk is the perfect example. Snobs may turn their nose up at it, but there is no denying that this development which emerged naturally has had an important influence in simplifying the language and removing barriers to communication. In fact, it is an ingenious solution to the problem we all face, stuck with the QWERTY system which was originally designed to slow typists down. What is wrong with people using their initiative to speed things up again?

Then there is the text message itself, where brevity is key. Messages are limited to 160 characters which means you have to keep it short if you want to avoid being charged double or even triple your normal rate. The new standard of abbreviations is a clever and natural way to evade this restriction.

That is not to mention instant messaging, where speed is as important as clarity. When you are having a fast-paced IM conversation, it is only sensible to take the odd short cut. It should be no surprise that in an age where we rely more heavily than ever on inefficient keyboards and restrictive technologies that new standards should emerge.

Moreover, what is wrong with “embarassing”, “beleive” or “pleasent”? Or even the odd “there” instead of “their” or vice-versa? You would still know exactly what I meant were I to use those spellings. Any exam marker with two brain cells to rub together would know that as well. If he were to mark down someone for putting one ‘r’ instead of two even though the meaning is still perfectly clear, then that would make him a petulant, authoritarian shit.

• Prince William makes first solo flight
• Plane crash-lands at Heathrow

It doesn’t feel like they’ve been away for long enough for a proper reunion. But when you think about it, the last album Blur recorded with Graham Coxon was released almost nine years ago! This should make every Britpop fan feel really, really old.

The rumours have been going for a while. Just last year I had heard that all of the members of Blur were suing each other. Now it seems confirmed that they are all — including Coxon — going into the recording studio very soon.

The fact that Graham Coxon is back is the real news though. He was pretty central to Blur. You could tell that just by listening to the sans-Coxon Blur album, Think Tank, which felt really empty and half-arsed. After a lacklustre album, it wasn’t a surprise to see Blur fizzle out.

Meanwhile, Graham Coxon’s solo career sky-rocketed. And who could blame Damon Albarn for not being too bothered given the success (and, let’s face it, damn good music) of Gorillaz. (The less said about Alex James’s WigWam, the better. At best the song sounds like an awful re-hash of ‘Girls and Boys’. And worst it sounds like the consequences of too many drugs.)

Think Tank and the death of Blur was a disappointment because their previous album, 13, is for my money one of the best albums of the 1990s. I still feel that the was completely overlooked by the media and the public, who at the time were too busy still fawning over OK Computer to notice anything else.

Listening to some of the older Blur material, it is easy to see why everyone got so excited about the whole Britpop thing. Blur wrote so many of the great pop songs of the 1990s. You can see this by looking at the tracklisting to their Best of album — more notable for the omissions than the inclusions (where were ‘Popscene’, ‘Chemical World’, ‘Stereotypes’…?).

To celebrate the news of the reunion, it is time for a Blur with Graham Coxon Nostalgic YouTube Extravaganza! (This means a bunch of videos that I will post and will stop working within a week as they get pulled off.)

Coffee and TV

The height of Graham Coxon’s powers as part of Blur.

Click “Click for more” for more.

Click for more »

I always wondered how Mr Eugenides got that effective picture in his header.

Via Fazed. Thanks Alan!

Apparently there are proposals for BBC Scotland to get its own dedicated television channel after the digital switch-over is complete. I applaud this proposal — because then we could watch proper BBC One, instead of having to deal with BBC Scotland messing around with the schedules and failing to show our favourite programmes.

I think this is why I am no longer a nationalist. Throughout my years growing up I had my favourite programmes taken away by some stranger speaking a foreign language. Regional variations have been the bane of my life. I was especially annoyed at the weekly Gaelic slot that interrupted BBC Two’s pristine schedule at 6 o’clock.

The 6 o’clock slot was finely honed back in the 1990s (by both BBC Two and Channel 4) as a place for youths like myself to watch top-quality programming while our parents were watching the 6 O’Clock News. While BBC Two later slipped into constantly repeating The Fresh Prince of Bel-End in the slot, years ago it was the home of The Simpsons. In other words, top-quality entertainment that couldn’t be matched in its slot.

BBC Scotland butchered the whole plan by depriving viewers north of the border of an episode of The Simpsons to accommodate Dè A-Nis?, or Machair, or some similar rubbish that was of no interest to anyone south-east of Mallaig. Every. Single. Week.

Here is a handy map, provided by Wikipedia, that demonstrates who was thwarted on a weekly basis by a dying language. White and light blue areas wanted to watch The Simpsons, whereas dark blue areas contain some children that might have understood Dè A-Nis? but probably would have preferred to watch The Simpsons.

Lest you think this is just me having a dig at Gaelic, it is not. All regional variations are inexcusable. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten stinkers like McCoist and MacAulay, Caledonia MacBrains or The Karen Dunbar Show. Or River City for that matter. Something tells me there is a reason most of these weren’t shown on the network.

I think Armando Iannucci and I must have a special connection. When I first saw this sketch on television (on Channel 4, a channel free of regional variations, except for those poor Welsh people who don’t get it at all), I was so glad. Somebody else felt the same way about regional variations. I’m sure everyone north of the border must have had a dream like this at least once in their lives.

I know I’m not the only one who thinks this now.

Lolcats. At first, funny. Yes?

Now, about as funny as having your nuts put on a skewer.

Part of this is just frustration with the fact that Twitter is down quite a lot at the moment, but that bloody error page, with a cutesy cat with a screwdriver and “lol im fixin ur Twitt3rs”, it’s just bloody annoying now.

I would join Sarah’s support group.

Genuine caller on Radio Five Live this morning, in a discussion about good things that are British: “When you move to other countries you find out that all countries have the same problems, like immigration.”

If I could do impressions I would phone up Rory Bremner posing as Kevin Lygo. I would tell him that his programme was being axed, because he is shit, and his programme hasn’t been funny for at least ten years and those John bores are about as entertaining as sitting on a fire.

So I guess that means that after their next “Closing Down Sale”, they will actually be closing down!

I can’t stand the smugness of those Get a Mac adverts with Mitchell and Webb in them. I especially hate the one that says Macs never crash. That’s just bullshit. I’m sure OS X is better, but the last Mac I used crashed all the time. As for this PC with Windows XP — for all its faults — it crashes far, far less often.

It’s like when Labour blame the state of the NHS on the Conservatives. Maybe that was so ten years ago…

Anyway, I saw this banner ad on Comment is Free and I can’t help but wonder if these adverts are really sending out the right message. I mean, if you were undecided between purchasing a Mac and a PC, would this advert really sway you?

I mean, surely if you wanted fun you’d just buy a Wii wouldn’t you? Moreover, this makes ‘Mac’ look like one of those awful people that go around the place telling everybody how fun they are.

With these adverts, David Letterman got it right.

Razzamatazz complains that everybody who dies is described in nothing but glowing terms. They are never described as a shithouse (Via Scaryduck). But there is one person whose epitaph is rather disrespectful. Now, who can come up with an acrostic that spells ’shithouse’?

It’s this sort of behaviour that makes me really hate drivers.

I mean, really. How desperate to save time do you have to be to try this sort of stunt? Would it even save you any time? I bet these drivers have been sitting there for about five minutes waiting for a bus to come along. Sometimes I suspect drivers never have any intention of sticking to the rules. Infact, they get a serious kick out of breaking them. And then abusing the poor traffic wardens who uphold them.

Seeing these bollards heading straight towards the anus of these idiots is very satisfying. Maybe they should put these next to parking meters aswell. That would be brilliant!

Via Boing Boing.

Then you need the Jack LaLanne Power Juicer!

Phuckd is quite a funny blog. Like me, phucker likes to take the piss out of awful late-night television, except he has a lot more exclamation marks. His latest target is the classic teleshopping presentation for Jack LaLanne’s Power Juicer.

I had never heard of Jack LaLanne before I saw this commercial. Apparently he was some kind of muscle man in the 1940s. The commercial had led me to believe that he was a singer or entertainer of some sort. At the end he starts singing, and it goes split screen. On the left we have footage from about fifty years ago of Jack LaLanne singing some kind of song. On the right we have today’s Jack LaLanne trying to sing the same song, but he is now so bad at it that the original footage is mauled to pieces to get the pair to stay in sync.

Anyway, the Power Juicer purports to be “whisper quiet”, but when they demonstrate it, it is patently not whisper quiet. In fact, the presenters need to shout over it. (Incidentally, there is an episode of The Simpsons that is clearly inspired by this “whisper quiet” moment.)

They then make a big deal about how you can put whole vegetables and fruit in, because obviously these days people are just too bastarding lazy to peel an orange before they make home made juice. Yes, that’s right. Fruit goes into the machine, complete with skin.

And then, when the process is over, a load of sloppy gloop comes out of its spout. To be honest, it looks as though it has already gone through the entire digestive process, so there is no need to drink it.

But they didn’t endure that shouty loud motor for nothing. So they take their wares to the local supermarket and feed some poor unsuspecting customers their shit-juice. Clearly, the participants have been told that whatever they actually think of the juice, they must say it’s delicious.

You see, what they don’t tell you in this commercial is the fact that Jack LaLanne actually thinks that all good food should taste shit, at least according to Wikipedia:

When interviewed by Katie Couric on NBC’s Today show, LaLanne declared that his two simple rules of nutrition are: “If man made it, don’t eat it; if it tastes good, spit it out.”

So there you have it. Jack LaLanne himself tries his juice and goes on about how great it tastes, but he doesn’t spit it out. Still, since bad food is good and good food is bad, all of our sense of taste has been twisted inside out so that we don’t know what to think any more. So what are we to make of these vox pops in the supermarket?

There’s a nonplussed youth connecting his mouth to some brown pulp. “Delicious,” he says, unconvincingly.
Here comes a family! Let’s get the six-year-old child to try it. That’ll be cute! “Delicious!”, she says.

So far, so lame. But the peak is just around the corner. The next guinea pig is some poor elderly woman who actually grimaces when she takes a swig. “That’s delicious,” she says, with an immense gurn that under any other circumstances would look as though it had been photoshopped.

It’s worth sitting through the whole thing just for that moment. So if you happen to be awake at about 1am this morning, do take a look. If Jack LaLanne isn’t on, you can console yourself by watching the advert for the Brenda DyGraf Lateral Thigh Trainer (it’s so good because — get this — not only do you move up and down, but you also move from side to side! Genius!).

I’ve taken the piss out of the late-night television programmes for losers with not enough sex, ITV Playdate and SmileTV / Party People on this blog. For more on these nocturnal televisual travesties, read phucker’s take on: ITV Playdate; Party People.

Because I tend to stay up late and, frankly, I am a loser with not enough sex, I sometimes flick past these programmes, as terrible as they are. I’m starting to wonder if they are not elaborate projects devised by twisted comedy genii.

Last night’s edition of Playdate had a classic participant last night. She was 29 years old and her profile boasted that she has an 18 year old child! That exclamation mark isn’t mine — her profile actually said, “She has an 18 year old child!” as if it was bloody brilliant. But if, like me, you have done your maths you will have worked out that she was eleven years old when she gave birth. Attractive! How do I get in touch?!

Judging by her behaviour on the programme, her courting skills probably haven’t improved since she was 11. Her legs were permanently wide open. One of the other participants noted, “I think I’ve seen her crotch more often than I’ve seen mine.” The presenter had to literally force her legs shut!

Part of the Playdate format is that the participants will often have a bit of a chat with the presenter so that you get to know a bit about them. Unfortunately, there wasn’t an awful lot to know about the open-legged participant.

“What do you like doing?”, asked the presenter.
“I dunno… I like havin’ sex,” she replied, suggestively sucking her third Chuppa Chup.
“Okay, so what kind of guy are you looking for?”, the presenter pressed.
“Dunno… Actually, I like the look of Lee over there.” She pointed at one of the other participants, who was probably shitting about half his weight with fear. This relationship was never going to be helped by the fact that Lee is “looking for a man tonight.” (Was that the truth or just quick thinking?)
But that didn’t deter our pre-teen pregnancy champion. “Come over ’ere an’ play with mah fanny.”

That’s not the way to charm a man. It’s no wonder she is resorting to going on television to advertise her undoubtedly flappy flange. That chat-up line probably hasn’t worked with anybody above the age of about 15. Unsurprisingly, her microphone was turned off after that incident. Remarkably, she wasn’t hauled off air completely.

That wasn’t embarrassing enough though, so I switched over to Party People. The format is more straightforward: weirdos send their texts in as council estate munters witter on while trying to show a bit of shoulder. It’s a world where the producers and right-hand men of the programme are all called Partyboy. A typical text is: “Partyboy tickle her feet for AT LEAST TEN SECONDS.”

Not tonight. That simply isn’t weird enough. One text read: “Do either of you ladies need a poo?” He should have visited this blog instead.

Another text said, “My boyfriend wants to watch me go to the toilet but I’m worried that I’ll fart. What should I do?” To which the presenter said, “You can tell that text is from a bloke can’t you?”

Melua’s deep sea gig sets record

Singer Katie Melua has entered the record books by playing the world’s deepest underwater concert.

Unfortunately the gig was in an oil rig so she didn’t drown.

There is a highly amusing video doing the rounds at the moment. It explains public toilet etiquette, which is one of the most important things for a male to understand. This also reminds me of The Urinal Game — although it’s clearly not a game; it’s an issue of immense importance.

Apparently women’s public toilets are quite nice places where people have a general chitty-chat. But men’s public toilets are places of fear and suspicion. If somebody speaks in a male toilet, it is practically the start of World War III. I suppose this is because the chances of being buggered are much lower in a women’s toilet.

The rules are fairly simple:

• No eye contact
• Don’t use a urinal if it’s next to a urinal that somebody else is using unless it is strictly necessary to do so
• Never, under any circumstances, speak — not even to a good friend

They are kind of unspoken rules. You don’t even consciously follow the rules. You only become aware of the rules when somebody breaks them. This happens a lot in pubs. Picture it. I’m standing there taking a leak, and some drunkard comes in making some small talk about the weather or something as though we were in the queue at Tesco rather than holding our penises.

The thing to do here is to finish your piss as quickly as possible, and do everything in your power to end the conversation quickly. There’s no time to wash your hands. Just go. As quickly as possible. Inform your friends of the man who started a conversation in the toilets. Everybody agrees that it’s just not on.

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Superficially Dundee might seem to be most useful as a place for old men to take a piss in doorways. But their Freshers Week definitely has the best events: Catchphrase with Roy Walker. Update: I have a friend who’s attended this. Unfortunately, he is adament that it was shit.

How can three little letters be so offensive?

Steve Jobs on his new gizmo (via Guardian Technology blog):

It’s called iTV. That’s a codeword. We need to come up with a better name.

Sir Peter Burt on the name of his company:

I wonder if we should change the name of the company from ITV. It would be easier if we were called something else.

What did those poor three letters ever do to offend anybody?