Swamped

Too busy at work to do anything here at the moment, talk amongst yourselves for while.

And enjoy this fine tune of course.

Download: Wat About Di Workin' Claas - Linton Kwesi Johnson (mp3)

Something for the weekend

I'm getting a major "leave me alone you dirty old man" vibe from those dollies that Jimmy Saville is trying to chat up. Especially the last one, she looks like he's making her skin crawl.

Holden Caulfield, Indie Hero

A little tribute to J.D. Salinger. For more on the Catcher In The Rye-indie pop nexus read this.

"I'm always saying "Glad to've met you" to somebody I'm not at all glad I met. If you want to stay alive, you have to say that stuff, though."

"You can't ever find a place that's nice and peaceful, because there isn't any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you're not looking, somebody'll sneak up and write "Fuck you" right under your nose."

"Goddam money. It always ends up making you blue as hell."

"He was one of those guys that think they're being a pansy if they don't break around forty of your fingers when they shake hands with you. God, I hate that stuff."

"You ought to go to a boy's school sometimes. Try it sometime," I said. "It's full of phonies, and all you do is study so that you can learn enough to be smart enough to be able to buy a goddam Cadillac some day, and you have to keep making believe you give a damn if the football team loses."

"Girls. You never know what they're going to think."

Download: A Sad Lament - Orange Juice (mp3)
(I'm cheating a little, this is actually the version on the "Texas Fever" album)

Something for the weekend

Speaking of scary things, this Public Information Film looks like it was made by Alfred Hitchcock.

The First Time I Felt Old

It was 7:15 in the evening on Friday the 3rd of December, 1982. I know because I still have the ticket.


I was at one the The Jam's farewell shows at Wembley Arena and even though I was only 20 myself at the time I felt like one of the oldest people there as the hall seemed to be full of 14-year-old boys wearing cheap Parkas that looked like their Mum had bought them in Millets. It was like being in the audience for Crackerjack or an England Schoolboys football game, and for the first time in my life the words "bloody kids" came into my head and I had that awful feeling of smug superiority that I had been a Jam fan from way, way, way back, long before they were stadium-playing superstars – four years at least! Where were all these spotty little bandwagon-jumpers then, huh? Mucking about with their Tonka Toys probably. I had to fight the urge to grab one of them by the Parka and say "Of course, they were so much better at The Rainbow in '78. I was there, you know" as if I was some grizzled old hippie droning on about Woodstock.

Several massive hit singles and a Mod revival had happened since that last gig and my mate and I both came to the the rather snotty conclusion that we understood why Weller was breaking up the group if this was their audience now — and selling out Wembley five nights in a row wasn't very "punk" was it? — which is exactly the sort of condescending attitude you'd expect from a 20-year-old who thinks he knows it all (don't they all?) But looking back now I feel bad for those kids, they were at the age when they were starting to get into music seriously and I can imagine how important The Jam were to them because I remember that feeling well myself. Paul Weller was your hero and you would hang on his every word for tips on what to wear, what to read, what old records to buy, even how to vote. And then — maybe in the same week you bought a George Orwell novel because Paul mentioned him in an NME interview — the bastard went and broke the band up. Who did that leave you with? Secret Affair??? That's like losing a pound and finding a penny — well, 50p maybe.

I don't remember much about the actual gig itself apart from Weller smashing up his guitar Pete Townsend-style after he tripped over his guitar lead and Bruce hanging around on the stage waving to the crowd at the end long after Paul had buggered off. But I do have a bootleg of the concert from the night before at Wembley which is about as close as I'll ever get to recreating that magical night when I became an old git.

Download: Precious - The Jam (mp3)
Download: Move On Up - The Jam (mp3)
Download: Boy About Town - The Jam (mp3)
(Live at Wembley, December 2nd, 1982)

Another reason why I had no right to feel superior to those kids: When I was their age I was into ELO.

Junior Choice

15 years from now she is going to be so glad that I took this picture, her street cred with her friends will go up by about a gazillion points. That is, if "the kids" give a shit about The Clash by then or even know who they are, though I'm sure there will be yet another punk revival at some point in the future.

Download: Tommy Gun - The Clash (mp3)