Been living on faithless street, all by myself

Ah, country music. My pantheon of greats – whilst admittedly dominated by shouty middle aged (middle aged by now anyway) men with guitars – has also always had much room and love for the country.

For a time, the roost was well and truly ruled by Whiskeytown and Wilco and I’d urge anyone to get hold of (although, why you don’t have them already I do not know…) of Strangers Almanac and Being There respectively. The roost was then thoroughly moved into by Wilco (until they turned into a Steely Dan covers band) and Mr Ryan Adams – who some may remember I was somewhat obsessed with (which had an unfortunate effect on my choice of jean fitting for a time – ah, the follies of youth. Let’s just say I was never a skinny leg kind of a build…).

Aaaaanyway. Ryan was, for a time, just unbelievably damn good. And then he just kind of went a bit, well, average. There’s a whole essay waiting to be written about lack of self-censorship and Pronce-like splurging (and don’t get me going on Pronce) but suffice to say I kind of lost faith and interest for a bit.

But, we checked him out on BBC4 (and there is another essay to be written on just how damn good BBC4 is. Equally, does anyone get the reason for BBC3??) t’other day in concert with Neil Finn and some deeply dull 60’s lady and he was – frankly – awesome. Mr Finn was clearly in a state of ‘how do I follow that?’ for most of the programme.

Anyway, welcome back Mr Adams. All of which is a long winded way of saying – here’s a picture. Which isn’t Ryan, but sort of is.



Velvet callow with wet hands

Just toolin’ around again with inky brushes. I think this is the sort of pic that I love and most probably everyone else will think looks like it was done by a five year old.

Rock on Bass Bear.

You gots to sling it low

An occasional series – Best sounds in Rock (in no order).

1 – The cowbell

2 – The Fender Rhodes

3 – The bit where the singers voice cracks in ‘Gimme Shelter’ just after she sings ‘murder’ and you hear someone go ‘yeeah’.

4 – The solo in ‘Tilted’

5 – Dulli singin ‘Ass’ in his sleazy way in one of about 5,000 songs.

Anyway, must be off…

It’s a wonderful lie and I still get by on those

Warming up today with – apropos of nothing – a couple of pics of Mould and – my wife’s favourite – Westerberg.

Sugar phase Bob and mid ‘Mats Paul I guess.

And if you have no idea what I’m talking about, you need to buy more late 80’s american hardcore…

Now, I have no idea if Bob and Paul hang out together much anymore, but I like to think they do. Perhaps there’s a comic strip in there somewhere.

Certainly, they’re both from Minneapolis – as are a freakishly large amount of good bands. Although having been there I imagine there’s little else to do – the self styled ‘Biggest Mall in the world!’ was certainly a bit of a disappointment… It’s never even been the biggest in the world fer hells sake, and only #2 in North America. Weirdly, I have also been to the biggest Mall in N. America – in Edmonton, Canada. *

Anyway, Bob and Paul are best friends and have lots of exciting adventures together, mostly involving time machines. Yup, appears I’m warmed up for storytelling again now, so best be off.

(Apologies to O’Malley for ripping off Pilgrim btw, but if I were called Bob, I’d get one)

*Despite appearances to the contrary, this was not intended to be a post regarding the largest malls in the world, nor am I an expert – or even interested – in the ranking system for mall size globally. Nor do I have some sort of quest or hankering to visit malls of the world. I just really needed to buy a tent.

Walking around with your head in the clouds...'mats era, obviously