Talent in a Previous Life

Because It's Never Just About the Music

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Lazy YouTube Pick of the Week 

We always thought that James Blunt fans were muppets, now here’s the proof:-

Yes, this is James finally realising that his main appeal lies with those who consider Incy Wincy Spider to be an exciting and thrilling rollercoaster ride of a complex melody and accepting the invitation to perform on Sesame Street, the world’s favourite collection of bulimics - The Cookie Monster - obsessive compulsives - The Count - and tramps - Oscar the Grouch. Here James reworks, in much the same way that you might mould your own excrement into a sausage, his hit You’re Beautiful into the lyrically superior My Triangle - we have a maths degree; songs which mention the hypotenuse get us excited - which, yes, is all about the geometric shape - we can only assume Boards of Canada were busy otherwise they would surely have taken this gig - and James performs this lovesong to the second simplest two dimensional object with all the passion and emotion he gives off when singing about an actual woman. Still, this is probably something of a first as it’s the only James Blunt song which actually has a point. Three of them to be exact.

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Wednesday, August 29, 2007

10 Things We State About... 

Amy Winehouse, who’s so determined to avoid fading away that she’s bypassing burning out and going straight to exploding like a flaming whisky barrel instead, is getting it from both sides at the moment, and we don’t just mean she’s taken to using both nostrils to simultaneously hoover up two lines of cocaine. No, instead we’re referring to the fact that both her dad and her mum-in-law have decided to weigh in and offer their opinions on what the ‘troubled’ - and there’s a euphemism if ever we heard one - star should do to sort her life out.

Her dad reckons that it’s no-one elses fault but her own, unsurprisingly taking a stance apart from the more conservative view that in situations like this the parents are to blame, and feels that until she accepts she’s got a problem there’s to a lot that can be done. It seems unlikely, however, that this will happen any time soon. She’s unable to accept there’s a problem with her teeth, let alone with the slightly more serious issues of her excessive intake. Her mum-in-law, however, takes a different view. And, obviously the best person to give advice is your mother in law, who is rarely, if ever, seen as a meddling influence in peoples’ lives. Her opinion is that it’s not Amy’s fault whatsoever, and is in fact the fault of those of us who have bought her records. Now, while many, many things can be blamed on people who have bought her records, mainly awful dinner parties, it seems somewhat churlish to blame Amy’s copious drug habit on the casual HMV customer. It’s a bit like the spurious arguments which blame the entirety of global terrorism on one customer buying a shonky DVD from a bloke at work. And besides, even if it were true, the mum in law’s solution, for everyone to stop buying Amy’s CDs so that she no longer has the cash to buy her drugs, doesn’t even work as every person who wants a copy of her album already has one! There are, at most, five people who are still considering purchasing it, and the only reason they haven’t as yet are because they spent Bank Holiday Monday watching the Dirty Pretty Things gig so haven’t exactly had the opportunity.

Amy herself has yet to comment on these things - not intelligently, anyway - but there are other ways which you could, if you’re so inclined, help Amy kick the habit. Here’s ten of them:-
  1. Wait until a rare moment of sobriety and hit her with the revelation that she’s been so monged out of her brain that she’s married someone called Blake Civil-Fielder.
  2. Play her Just Say No, No, No. A bootleg of her hit Rehab mixed with The Kids from Grange Hill.
  3. Speak to her in a language she understands. Yiddish, perhaps.
  4. Give all her local drug dealers copies of her CDs. Not so that they’ll recognise her and know not to sell to her, but in the hope they’ll try and make a bit of cash by flogging them off down the local pub instead.
  5. Lock her in a studio with no outside influences and let her go cold turkey. Of course, the downside of this is that she’ll likely record another album while she’s there.
  6. Point out that drugs aren’t cool. Use the examples of Justin Hawkins and Blokey From Keane if she needs convincing.
  7. Cut her coke with washing powder, which will clean up her insides if nothing else.
  8. Help her work her way up to kicking the habit by giving her some small things to kick to start with, before slowly working up to bigger, more difficult things. We’d start with kittens ourselves.
  9. Instead of giving her awards, give her shots of methadone instead.
  10. Demand she goes to rehab, and to hell with whatever response she gives.

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Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Fullsome Prison News 

So, did you miss us then?

Of course, we were barely away for a month. Had we, for example, been in prison then you would have had to get used to us not being around for years. Unless, of course, we were Lindsay Lohan - whose drunk driving antics seems to indicate that she took the living car concept of Herbie: Fully Loaded a little too literally - in which case we’d be gone for the best part of an afternoon and still have been home in time for Hollyoaks. Or whatever the American equivalent of it is. Probably something watchable.

But while we’re unlikely to end up in jail any time soon - not unless shoplifting from HMV turns out to be a crime! What? It is? Oh… - it seems bands are falling over themselves to take a trip beyond the prison gates and see what life’s like when a criminal record means more than just your back catalogue. Well, two of them are, anyway, with both The Enemy and Dirty Pretty Things spending their bank holiday Monday doing a gig for the inmates at Pentonville Prison.

Some might question whether being forced to go and see a gig by The Enemy would constitute cruel and unusual punishment, or, indeed, whether they’re really so worried about their abilities as a live band, and quite rightly so as well, that the audience needs to be locked in to stop them fleeing the venue in disgust. Others would question the wisdom of telling a group of sex-starved prisoners that they’re going to have Dirty Pretty Things entertaining them. It could only end in disappointment. And those who thought they were going to get a bunch of strippers were probably even more annoyed.

Still, their hearts were in the right place, even if it was the movement of consumer goods from the right place to various lock-ups around London that helped many of the lucky gig-goers acquire their tickets, as this gig was to raise awareness of the high rates of suicide amongst young men in prison, and it's clearly a good thing to show the jump suited hordes that with even this little talent and charisma it’s possible to have a successful career without resorting to theft. Unless, of course, you count the theft of intellectual property, of course, but no-one else seems to and if “Being a bit derivative” suddenly became a crime then the British music industry would suddenly come grinding to a halt as two out of every three bands suddenly found themselves facing the judge. And not Judge Jules.

Bet anyone who’d been put inside for ticket touting was pissed off, though.

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