This week's listening

has mainly been the new albums from Jurassic 5, Bugz in the Attic, Quantic and Pharrell. Three of the four are excellent - J5's oldschool schtick is still working well despite the departure of Cut-Chemist; Bugz are more commercial than I had expected, but it is still an incredible left-field dance album; Quantic is masterful as ever, with a wider range of influences (especially Mulatu Astataque, with whom he has recorded an album) much in evidence. The other is rather disappointing and sounds like the outtakes from other Neptunes productions - it is telling that the standout track is Can I Have It Like That.

Meanwhile 3

I happened upon Meanwhile 3 on the way to my brother's pub from Portobello Road today. And, i have to say, I was inspired - at least 60% of the twenty or so skaters there were fat, sweaty thirty-somethings, some of whom were starting out on pristine decks and with little skill, self-conciously wheeling themselves slowly from side to side, learning rock to fakies, tailstalls and pivots. I think I could manage that, although the fear of damaging bones still remains in the back of mind, the fear of small children laughing at me scares me more. Anyway, I shall leave you with a clip of someone with far more talent than I carving the pool.

Dr Alimantado

That's the good doctor himself, flies open on Kingston Street in 1978 or so, in Dave Hendley's iconic photo. Anyway, today, apart from shopping and cleaning and blogging, I have been listening to 'House of Singles' compilation covering 1969-1978 (I think), and outstanding it is too. Many of the rhythm tracks will be immediately recognisable to fans of reggae - Lee Perry and Randy's feature prominently, but Tado's toasting adds an new dimension to versions of classic songs like 'Piece of my Heart' and 'The First Cut is the Deepest' - even though many of these tracks are in the early call and response DJ style, in which he echoes the lyrics and effuses in heavy patois on matters of love, life and Rastafari. Simple, but effective.

Rain

finally. I'm going out to play in the fresh air as soon as it stops - there is the most wonderful breeze coming in through the window as the rain comes down and the thunder rolls. After the weather, some news you may have missed:

Top Ten Black Metal fashion disasters

Egay can fulfil many of your needs.

Modest swimwear is the way forward.

Zoshchenko

I was reminded of Bania (Russian speakers can browse for it, if they can't remember) on my journey home. The Tube is baking. Packed. Delayed. I caught the Piccadilly Line. No trains on my branch. Get the first to Heathrow. Hot. Standing. Packed (did I mention that already). More people got on at Green Park, Hyde Park Corner, Knightsbridge. Had to get out at South Kensington. Wanted to get a drink. There are 2 drinks machines on the platform. The first has sold out. Fair enough. I walk down to the second, pound coin in hand, ready to get a bottle of water or Coke, or even (heaven forfend) Diet Coke. I put my money in the slot, then the following message caught my eye: Temperature too high. Now, it may seem like a strange thought, but surely a refrigerated drinks machine should be able to deal with heat? In the States I've seen them on the streets in Colorado and Wyoming, in greater heat than here. So I had to make do with a Cadbury's Creme Egg bar (from a chilled machine!). It did, however, droop (as do so many things) in the heat within seconds of opening. Rnt over now. Watched the lightning in the distance walking home, hoping there will be an almighty storm tonight to clear the air.

Headache

that just won't clear today. Making a 20 hour mix for a party over the Bank Holiday (am I mad)? Day off tomorrow. Hate Outlook - have spent too many hours over the last day and a half unpicking problems with it. Hate the individuals who break Outlook and then claim innocence. If you don't know what you are doing, should you be doing it at all? Looking forward to the new Norman Jay MBE Good Times CD (Volume 6 now!) - released 21st August! Hate flipflops. Especially just off Oxford Street.

Serendipity

Having lost out on the mixing desk on Ebay, I took a wander down to Sounds of the Universe - one of my favourite places in London. The door was open, and from half-way down Berwick Street, I could hear the sweet sounds of Studio One wafting out from their sound system. I was not expecting anything - Jamaican vinyl has kind of fallen off my shopping list after the disappointing pressing of the two Prince Buster albums I bought a couple of months ago, and 45s are nice, but I am not a rich man, so the 20-30 I would want to buy each week are out of the question. I took a look through the reggae section - nothing much doing. Hiphop was equally lacklustre (especially as the Stones Throw albums are all on special offer elsewhere), so I took a quick look through the soul compilations section. Nothing. Then I happened upon Rewind volumes 2 & 3. I have been after these for years now - they are phantom CDs that always pass through my hands when I have no money, or I have something else more pressing to purchase. But today I didn't. I now have the modern ska version of 'Ring of Fire'. Now if I can just invent a time machine to take me forward to 7pm to get out of work and home to listen to them, I will be a happy man (yeah right!).

Cleaning the kitchen,

wondering how the hob gets so filthy, waiting for Tiger to start in the Open, listening to Neneh Cherry, The Jackson Sisters, Cheryl Lynn, Sister Sledge, NWA and A Tribe Called Quest (again) in a late 80's/early 90's club style. Playing around with my PhD proposal - who would think that 500 words to obtain funding could be so difficult to write. I suppose that the brevity is the most important thing, and that the vaule of each word has to be carefully weighed. I may haveto take a sharp intake of Chekhov to inspire me along these lines. Waiting to see if I win an Ebay auction for a mis-listed item. Sundays are fun. Back to work tomorrow.

That's Mr Woods to you!

Tracklists

Sounds From Luke's Hifi June 2006

Volume 1:
Alice Coltrane - Journey in Satchidananda
Charles Mingus - II B.S. (RZA's Mingus Bounce Mix)
Nostalgia 77 - Seven Nation Army
Ghostface Killah featuring Trife - Be Easy
Quasimoto - Microphone Mathematics Remix
Grandmaster Caz - Get Down Grandmaster
Ammoncontact - Like This
Dabrye - Bloop
Osunlade featuring Erro - Everything In Its Right Place
Daedalus - Bahia
Grupo Batuque - Na Cadencia Do Samba
Luis Quintero - Acid
Ed Motta - Patidid
Marcos Valle - Estrelar
Flevans - Get Caribou
Wess and the Airdales - Vehicle
Richard McDonald - I'm Gonna Love You A Little Bit More
The Quantic Soul Orchestra - Barababatiri
The Bamboos featuring Alice Russell - Step It Up

Volume 2:
The Roots - The Seed/Melting Pot/Web
Jamaica's Groove Band - Shaft
Ossie Hibbert Allstars - Doberman Skank
Sandoz - Monopolize And Destroy
Nightmares On Wax - Flip Ya Lid
Prince Jazzbo - Crabwalking (Discomix)
Marcia Aitken & Trinity - I'm Still In Love/Three Piece Suit
Carol Cool - Upside Down
The Peech Boys - Don't Make Me Wait (Original 12" Dub Mix)
Sister Sledge - Lost In Music (Special 1984 Niles Rodgers Remix)
Charanga 76 - Ain't No Stopping Us Now

Musical youth

Oh. Yeah. Right. Sorry. provides a list of his musical tastes over the last fifteen years, which started me thinking how little mine have changed over that period. Admittedly they have expanded, mainly because I have more money and more access, thanks to goegraphical location and the internet, to music in its myriad forms.

It must have been about 15 years ago that I bought the Clash's Sandinista on double cassette in some god-forsaken second-hand music shop in Portsmouth. I have recently re-purchased this album again, on CD this time, with a reproduction of the original liner notes, and, I have to say, it is enjoyable as it was back then. Not in a life-changing way, nor an overly nostalgic return to my youth.

At the time of release, Mick Jones described it as an album you dance to all the way through, you just have to dance in a certain way. It certainly is dance music, and far more forward-thinking than critics at the time could cope with. It covers reggae, British folk, Motown, steel drums, jazz, world music (dreadful term, I know) and prototypical rap, all with dub versions, electronic overdubs and samples (of sorts). Not all of it is listenable, and several of the tracks are indulgent to say the least, yet they seems to have presaged most of the major developments in British music over the following twenty years.

And the more I think about it, the more this musical cosmopolitanism (although some may claim it as imperialist exploitation) appeals to me. Most forms of popular music (and several forms of non-popular music) derive from the blues originally, and there has been cross-fertilization between the different forms throughout the last century - the album may be a journey, and at times far from easy-listening, but it does make sense.

This has also influenced my DJing (along with others, including David Mancuso) - and you can definitely hear it (I hope) in the CDs I send out. The latest travels from mystical jazz through hiphop, Brazilian, disco, soul, funk, dub, reggae and latin. The trick is, I think, to find those track that cross the boundaries between the genres, be they cover versions, remixes, or simply unusual tracks. I hope you like it.

Word of the day

From a post over at BiB, and Jitterbug Perfume (the book what I am reading at the moment) is Ambergris:















Thanks to www.ambergris.co.nz

Я сказал а хип хоп а хипи...

Sleep

is nice. Almost 12 hours does you the wonder of good, even if half of it is on a tatty Ikea sofa. Trouble is, I now want to go back to bed again. The heat is also intolerable (I am exiled from my air-conditioned office to work with the masses in the (un-air-conditioned, humid, hot and dusty) shop today. And on top of that we also have customers (in a retail establishment! Can you imagine!) Uzhas!

CDs

Are finished (finally). These proved to be a labour of love, and I ended up completely re-doing the first CD again at 11pm last night. What can you do? Anyways, they are burnt and the sleeves are printed - I've just got to spend this evening cutting them out, so I'll send them out tomorrow.

A Tribe Called Quest

On repeat on the Tube both ways today.

I Left My Wallet In El Segundo:

My mother went away for a month-long trip
Her and some friends on an ocean-liner ship
She made a big mistake by leaving me home
I had to roam so I picked up the phone
Dialed ali up to see what was going down
Told him I pick him up so we could drive around
Took the dodge dart, a 74
My mother left a yard but I needed one more
Shaheed had me covered with a hundred greenbacks
So we left brooklyn and we made big tracks
Drove down the belt, got on the conduit
Came to a toll, we paid and went through it
Had no destination, we was on a quest
Ali laid in the back so he could get rest
Drove down the road for two-days-and-a-half
The sun had just risen on a dusty path
Just then a figure had caught my eye
A man with a sombrero who was four feet high
I pulled over to ask were we was at
His index finger he tipped up his hat
El segundo, he said, my name is pedro
If you need directions, Ill tell you pronto
Needed civilization, some sort of reservation
He said a mile south, theres a fast food station
Thanks, senor, as I start up the motor
Ali said, damn, tip, why you drive so far for?

(well describe to me what the wallet looks like)

Anyway a gas station we passed
We got gas and went on to get grub
It was a nice little pub in the middle of nowhere
Anywhere would have been better
I ordered enchiladas and I ate em
Ali had the fruit punch
When we finished we thought for ways to get back
I had a hunch
Ali said, pay for lunch
So I did it
Pulled out the wallet and I saw this wicked beautiful lady
She was a waitress there
Put the wallet down and stared and stared
To put me back into reality, heres shaheed:
Yo, tip, man, you got what you need?
I checked for keys and started to step
What do you know, my wallet I forget

Yo, it was a brown wallet, it had props numbers
Had my jimmy hats I got to get it man

Lord, have mercy
The heat got hotter, ali stars to curse me
I fell bad but he makes me feel badder
Chit-chit-chatter, car stars to scatter
Breaking on out, we was northeast bound
Jettin on down at the seepd of sound
Three days coming and three more going
We get back and there was no slack
490 madison, were here, sha
He said, all right, tip, see you tomorrow
Thinking about the past week, the last week
Hands go in my pocket, I cant speak
Hopped in the car and torpeed to the shack
Of shaheed, we gotta go back when he said
Why? I said, we gotta go
cause I left my wallet in el segundo

Yeah, I left my wallet in el segundo
Left my wallet in el segundo
Left my wallet in el segundo
I gotta get, I got-got ta get it

Resonance

Resonance FM is the antidote to over-commercialized radio stations - truly free community access programming - why not drop in and take a listen.

Whisky in the Jar

So, I'm back. Made it over the Cork and Kerry mountains to Kenmare for some chowder and the market, back round the Beara Peninsula to Bantry for an icecream. Dinner and drinks in Schull. Then out into the countryside via Goleen to Crookhaven, Barley Cove and Mizen Head (you can search for these, as every place in West Cork seems to have its own website). Fresh wild salmon sandwiches. Lots of alcohol free Becks. Blarney Castle, then back to Cork airport. Almost all of it in glorious sunshine (my head is now peeling again). Go. Flights and car hire cost almost nothing.

Volcanoes

are very interesting. Holiday tomorrow. See you later,

The Passenger

Girl: Who are you?
David Locke: I used to be someone else but I traded him in.

Interesting film. Detachment permeates it - the characters, landscape, architecture and cultures are all removed somewhat from the reality depicted in the film. More to follow.

Fi yuo cna raed tihs,

yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too. Cna yuo raed tihs?Olny 55 % of plepoe can.

i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg.
The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at
Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a
wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be
in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed
it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey
lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I
awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt

Beckham's resignation in full

Dieu

Michael Stipe

So, despite all the portents of doom (6th June 06, Israel invading Palestine and England progressing in the World Cup), the world has fortunately not ended (this morning at least), although I guess with the an impending apocalypse, you can only take each day as it comes anyway.

I guess we should be grateful for Sven for preventing an appalling outbreak of national pride in England - I do like some red and white things, raspberry ripple ice cream for example, but anything in the form of a cross worries me on a very basic level, and when combined with the red and white and a national pride based upon the triumph of a bunch of semi-literate (as proven by the captain's resignation speech this morning) footballers, rather than any real knowledge of and pride in the whole sweep of English history and culture, I start to get twitchy. This video was filmed just up the road from me - I happened upon it the other night. The flags will slowly vanish from the streets and cars (save those few who belong to people who are either so disappointed by the failure, so lazy, or have blind faith in the triumph of English football at some point in the future that they don't remove them). Sales of red and white face paint will slump, as will takings in pubs across the UK.

Fortunately Henman has already exited, but there seems to be a surge in support of young master Murray. Why do the English (even though he is a Scot) have this tragic passion for nearly men? This would seem to be a fundamental genetic/psychological flaw - being sporting no longer wins you things; the Corinthian spirit died nearly half a century ago, yet the commentators and bloggers across the world are caliing for Cristiano Ronaldo's head - that it was him, and not Rooney's petulance that put paid to English hopes. Why can they just not accept that the team was not good enough throughout the tournament, that they played better without (arguably) their two star players, that Portugal showed greater calmness under pressure.

And the worst part of it is that the victim mentality will extend to this match now. Along with Germany and Argentina (and to a leeser extent, Poland and many other teams), Portugal will become England's bogey team, Scolari and Ronaldo will seize as strong a grip over the average fan's mentality as Maradona did, penalties again. The cult of suffering in Russia is nothing compared to the spin put on these fundamentally meaningless events by the English media and fans. They seek excuses, reasons for failure in the actions of others, rather than examining the flaws within English sporting culture itself.

Enough of the rant for now. Extra time and penalties did make compulsive viewing.

What am I going to do?

When the World Cup finishes? There has been a tangible sense of existential angst cross London over the last week as the group round of the World Cup ended and there was no longer a guarantee of football on TV every night. I would imagine that violent crime, conception and suicide rates all rose on Wednesday and Thursday of this week.

World Cup lookalikes

Only one German

has ever missed a penalty in a shoot-out in the World Cup, Uwe Stielike against France in 1982 (the match in which Schumacher poleaxes the French striker). You can see the highlights here...

Quite fancy going here again

I've been inspired by Fergal Keane's description of his time in Hong Kong as part of the BBC's coverage of the 9th anniversary of the return to Chinese rule.

I was wrong

Goodbye to Argentina from Stefan Raab...