Train overhearing

The two male students got on at Brockley. Opinionated, informed and fully commentisfreee, at first they were assessing the progress of the civil engineers on the east London line extension, perhaps wondering just when that direct link to Shoreditch will open.

But thought soon turned to weightier cultural matters. Apropos of maybe a post-Glstnbry sartorial appraisal in this close summer, one averred:


“Wellies”
(silence)
“Got to be the wellies mate. They are so ghetto.”

Any affirmation from either his mate or closet listeners was superfluous for an opinion so forthrightly rendered in the modern style as fact. We were off to search out the sickest boot looks on the streets of southeasy. Maybe the festival can be the real world.

What a massive club looks like

And with Sonic Strewth in danger of turning into an offbeat football webzine, I also belatedly link to Owen on the Theatre of Creams, in itself part of an appendix on his BD urban trawl:
“...many curious things, including the bizarre Yeltsin-Constructivism of Old Trafford, where domineering symmetries, bared structure and outrageously kitsch statues prove the enduring ridiculousness of the world's least interesting football team”.

The Damned United, indeed.

ps...

...Iran promptly ‘retired’ four of the green armband-wearing players, just one element of Khamanei’s crackdown. Fifa’s complaint to Tehran
will make no difference at all.

Theory bump

Just as it should be, it's an actual tune that has done the best justifying of the continuum talk, though it has come from a theorist's camp. Cooly G's ep on Kode9's Hyperdub offers two belters in Narst and Love Dub.

Narst is all early Wiley ominous strings with a banging undercurrent and firm subs redolent of early Warp amid hints of soca/funky influence. Love Dub pays homage to the often overlooked jazzy elements of peak-era jungle, with woozy early morning keys, seriously loose drums of varying timbre and pattern and Cooly's (?) sirenade dropping in and out. Quite literally lovely. And there's almost no chance this could have been on a nice balearic comedown tape in the early 90s (actually there is - i love the fact she is not afraid of talking about 'deep house'). The refix is a bit more soundsystem-friendly.

Hyperdub 20 is out today. Get behind it.

2000:10 – Corky’s dizaine

In a definite boost for the stuttering top 10 of the decade series (resuming soon! - I told you it would take all year), City fan and Leeds’ finest Corky offers an inspiring top 10, full of regional detail and free of London insular bias. LCD, the 'Werk and !!! among them - this is getting the compi fingers itching now.

You can socially network with him on mespace and facebonk, but for now, forsake the (very well articulated) hate to feel the love.

1. LOSING MY EDGE – LCD SOUNDSYSTEM
The tale of the ageing hipster, been there, done that, got it on white-label, being overtaken by the kids with their downloaded knowledge. A simple, driving basslines, a droll monotone vocal, a list of great bands, great records, great times. Still on heavy rotation on my iPod after six years. And yes, I bought it on import before you did. I was there.

2. HOUSE OF JEALOUS LOVERS - THE RAPTURE
Before I heard this there were only two records guaranteed to get me onto the dancefloor. Now there are three. It reminds me of Friday nights at the Cockpit, drunken euphoric nights, sambuca, chain-smoking, too much dry ice. The Rapture morphed from neo-goth to punk-funk to dancefloor killers and this, sadly, was their apex, a great live band as well.

3. VITAMIN – KRAFTWERK
I was shocked when Kraftwerk announced that they were finally going to release a new album after 17 years. 17 years that had seen a remix album and the Expo single – levels of productivity that made the Stone Roses look like workaholics. The Tour de France single was ok but it was with some trepidation that I approached the album. I wasn’t disappointed and this, for me, is the standout track on the album – typical Kraftwerk, a seemingly mundane lyric (a list of vitamins and minerals ) repeated over a simple, echoey beat. It's as good as anything as Kraftwerk have ever done and, like all their best stuff, it's timeless and otherwordly.

4. SHE’S HEARING VOICES – BLOC PARTY (ep version, not album)
Bloc Party’s first and finest moment came to me via the first Art Goes Pop compilation. Punky, funky, shouty, angular, insistent – you know the words. Doesn’t sound like Gang of Four, despite the media insistence that it does. Every Bloc Party release since this one has been a pale imitation, I try to like them but they just don’t move me or make me want to move.

5. SINKING – CRYSTAL STILTS
A grower. The Stilts were recommended to me by Matt at Jumbo Records and at first listen I was disappointed – it just sounded too lo-fi, a pastiche of early Mary Chain and sundry C86 fodder. By the third listen I was hooked, yeah it sounds like it was recorded in a dustbin but its soooo beautiful and simple that it wormed its way into my heart and stayed there. Catch them live, if you can – short and shambolic.

6. PDA – INTERPOL
The early 80s of the Chameleons, Bunnymen & Joy Division distilled into five minutes of perfect pop. Wear black, gel your hair, scowl and get your ass onto the dancefloor. Apparently they have 200 couches, go figure.

7. NOTHING EVER HAPPENS – DEERHUNTER
The most played song on my iPod, single of the year 2009, best live band I’ve seen in an age. I find Deerhunter hard to define, they remind me of many things and yet they remind me of nothing. If there was any justice, Deerhunter would be massive and Bono would be found dead in a wardrobe. Sadly, there is no justice.

8. FUCK THE PAIN AWAY – PEACHES
“Sucking on my titties like you wanted me, calling me, all the time like Blondie, check out my chrissy behind It's fine all of the time. Like sex on the beaches what else is in the teaches of peaches? Huh? What?” What’s not to love?

9. BIOLOGY – GIRLS ALOUD
If you are just gonna be a snob about Girls Aloud because they are a ‘manufactured group’, well you can go fuck yourself. Pop music has always been manufactured and reality tv has given it a transparency that doesn’t diminish the end product. Girls Aloud make great pop records and this is one of their finest. It's a strange record, it's three records in one, it makes no sense and yet it works on every level.

10. ME & GULIANI DOWN BY THE SCHOOLYARD- !!!
Chk Chk Chk put the funk in the punk funk revival. I’ve run out of things to say. Buy all these records. Now.

Honourable mentions to School of Seven Bells, Wavves, Navvy, Mekon, the Rakes, Clor, Hot Hot Heat, South Central etc etc.

Expect more reader charts and comments as the 2000:10 progresses.

Iran players support anti-Ahmadinejad protests

Forget the recession-proof world of obscene transfer deals - the 80 squillions that took the volatile hyena Ronaldo to the filthy merengues from the theatre of cream par example - by far the most important soccer gesture took place last night when half the Iran team, including captain Mehdi Mahdavikia, wore green armbands in support of opposition candidate Mir Hossein Moussavi, as efforts continue to get rid of Ahmadinejad after a rather dodgy election count.

My YouTube ain't great, but you should be able to see some of them sporting the bands in the first half coverage - perhaps a word came from Tehran in the break as they took them off for the second. The game in Seoul ended 1-1 but Iran were eliminated due to other results in their group.


Iranian fans were also showing their support for the uprising, according to AP (including photo gallery): 'Fans from Iran also showed their support for the demonstrations at home by staging a protest outside the stadium. They unfurled a banner that read "Go to Hell Dictator," and chanted "Compatriots, we will be with you to the end with the same heart. During the match, protesters waved the banner, held up green paper signs reading "Where is my vote?" and waved Iran's national flags emblazoned with the plea "Free Iran."' (AFP story and pix)

Let's get the establishment stooge hidden like his favourite imam.

Ironically, another old axis member, North Korea, took Iran's place in the world cup after drawing with Saudi Arabia.

Pathetic and hapless

It’s a look I resort to all too often, and not just to myself when something mildly upsetting has happened. That’s because this little expression’s emotional range is deeper than you think, coming in handy as a hello substitute. It was particularly adaptive in this regard during a recent euro-fam break in the other Bretagne there in France. Here, you don’t know whether the almost-community of the camping and caravan resort implies an inclusiveness requiring greetings to everyone you see, regardless of whether you've made acquaintance. Or that could apply to those staying down the same allée as you. Or those just opposite and up and down.


Wherever, it offered a welcome universality in blanket ungreetings that fall way down on the social etiquette counter. Just right for the ‘English at play’, in Austin’s accurate words. With French men and women when you were walking along the marshy swamps just before the atlantic coast beaches, full bonjours were tossed and shared, if not with an exchange of appreciation, then at least with effort. With the upper working and lower middle cultural aberrations from the british isles however, I remind myself you’re only a man u or a barca top away from a massive disagreement.

What the nonce does this sappy look say? Redolent of a reluctance to engage as well as little more than a pathetic self-conciliation, great for in exchanging with blokes that may erroneously feel like me they’ve been enormously put on what with the all the kids and bags and shit. Trouble is some of the ‘guys’ had frustrating levels of energy that my bloated self could not match. Sometimes plain mutual ignorance is preferable, but this does the job if eye-crossing is inevitable. With real friends it also comes in handy as a kind of sarcastic flabbergast in the style of morris digesting some of the day today's news items.

A pity that it doesn’t offer much greeting at all, more an obvious unwillingness to evade visual and verbal contact. More pseudo-emotional drivel can be found across pages of national newspapers, particularly at the weekend.