It's True!

Perhaps one of the only consolations to being confined to the sofa for the last five days is that I've been catching up on weeks and weeks of films and television.

The summary so far: The Life & Death of Peter Sellers - excellent; Jamon Jamon - just plain weird; Ghostbusters 2 - better than I remembered; Meet The Fockers - better than I expected; The Bodyguard - what was I thinking?; X-Men 3 - surprisingly entertaining.

But my favourite discovery of all has been repeated episodes of early-1990s comedy series Absolutely, which Virgin Media are offering on their on-demand TV service.

Absolutely was a sketch show in the style of Monty Python, starring future chat-show host Jack Doherty and Saturday Night Live's shortest-lived cast member Morwenna Banks. It was less cerebral and more, well, Scottish than the Pythons. But it shared a playful sense of disregard for the niceties of logic, and a pleasingly high laugh ratio.

Several recurring characters included Callum Gilhooley - the most boring man in the world; Gwynnedd and Denzil - hopeless Welsh DIY enthusiasts; and MacGlashan - a rabid Scottish nationalist.

But, viewing the series 15 years on, it's Morwenna Banks's characters that stand the test of time. By far her best creation is the "Little Girl", who explains the modern world from the point-of-view of a seven-year-old. There aren't many clips on the net (because the series has never been released on DVD) but here's one example...

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Noo choons

Hello there. I'm still a bit ill, so sorry about the infrequent posts of late.

In the meantime, here's some new music that other blogs have posted - thus saving me all the effort.

The Fray do an oh-so-amusing live version of Shakira's Hips Don't Lie. Listen once, then destroy. [MP3 on Chris' Pix]

New Beyoncé material never seems to stop coming. Here's her new duet with Jay-Z [Fetch Me Some Music], and her new duet with Shakira [Ali's Blog]. Yummy.

Rozonda Thomas (aka Chili out of TLC) has got a new single. It's called Straight Jack, it features Missy Elliot and it is so-so. [MP3] [via Hops Mp3 Thing]

Popjustice has a 45-second clip of ex-Sugababe Mutya Buena's collaboration with Groove Armada. It's not exactly I See You Baby, but it's a vast improvement on Buena's duet with George (spit) Michaels. [Popjustice]

Another leaked track from Mark Ronson's covers album, Version. This one is a funked up version of The Jam's Proper Green. Ace. [MP3 on Fluxblog]

Finally, here's the video for the Timbaland / Nelly Furtado / Justin Timberlake collaboration that's been going round for ages. It's lost some of it's lustre after repeated listens, but I'd still shake a leg to it if (a) I went to clubs any more and (b) I wasn't about to collapse into a pitiful heap of wheezing and phlegm.

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HomeRun

Until now, I have been studiously avoiding the forthcoming Simpsons Movie. My reasons are threefold:

1) I don't want to know anything about the plot in advance
2) I'm desperately worried it'll be disappointing
3) As a result of 1 and 2, I kind of forgot it was coming out

Luckily, my dodgy memory has been given a quick jolt by Fox's marketing department, who have just released the first proper trailer from the film. I held my breath and clicked on the play button, and...



Phew! It is distinctly not a sham of a mockery of two farces in a trojan horse pretending to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. Creator Matt Groening is one of the main writers, all of the major characters are in there, and, most important of all, it made me do a laugh (actually it was more of a wheeze - I'm still feeling a little unwell).

The only disappointment is the American voice-over man's inability to say "coloured-in". Really, guys, English isn't that difficult to master.

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Separated at birth?

Sooty puppeteer Matthew Corbett / Hot Fuzz film star Simon Pegg

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Surprisingly good Christina Aguilera video

I do not like Christina Aguilera's Back To Basics album (stop shouting, woman, we can all hear you perfectly well). But the Candyman song is acceptable and the video is superb.



Yes, that really is her playing all three of the Beverly Sisters. Top class.

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Gig Review: Nelly Furtado

Nelly Furtado has two distinct public personas. One is the hippy chick who combines her Portuguese musical heritage with a love of pop and hip-hop to produce gems like I'm Like A Bird (the bird, in case you're interested, is a cultural magpie). The other is the globe-straddling promiscuous girl - a hip-hop disco queen who, coincidentally, eats men.

Both Nellies were on display last night at the Hammersmith Apollo, but it was fairly easy to work out which one was the real deal.

The show began with a couple of tracks from her Timbaland-produced Loose album. The bass shook the floor as Nelly took to the stage but she seemed oddly disconnected. Stood atop the third tier of her set, the singer was impassive as four dancers cavorted like escapees from the Mickey Mouse Club at the bottom of her staircase.

The problem, in part, is that Nelly isn't what you'd call a groovy dancer. In fact, she moves a bit like your Auntie Brenda at a barmitzvah. On crutches.

...The true Furtado, as we are soon to find out, is a musician first and foremost.

After the opening salvo of uptempo numbers, she saunters off-stage to change into a stunning backless black ball gown and launches into a six-song set of smoochers. Given the chance to sing, rather than shimmy, she suddenly takes control of the stage.

An acoustic cover of Gnarls Barkley's Crazy gets the crowd singing along and the pint-sized popstrel dons her own guitar for a stripped-back version of Hey Man. She also premieres a new song, Stars, which she says will be filmed and made available on youtube for fans to download. How very modern.

Having let her musical juices flow (quite literally - a man appears to mop the stage with a towel), the Canadian-born singer is more confident on a second set of dance tracks. A remixed version of I'm, Like, A Bird and a foot-stomping rendition of Forca see her running about the stage, climbing up the rafters and, eventually, indulging in a bit of choreography. By this stage, the crowd is on their feet, too.

She's joined by percussionist / rapper Socrates - who earlier delivered a blistering support slot - for the encore which ends with the musical behemoth that is Maneater. It's the one point where the old Nelly and the new Nelly seem perfectly in sync, as she draws the thumping dance track into an extended sing-a-long before indulging in an impromptu spot of drumming.

If she can reconcile those split personalities to similar effect on her next album, Furtado will finally achieve her long-held promise.





Setlist:
Intro - Afraid
Say It Right
Turn Out The Lights
Powerless (Say What You Want)
Do It
Wait For You
Showtime
Crazy
Try
Stars
Hey Man
All Good Things Come To An End
SexyBack (performed by Jasmine and Socrates)
Give It To Me
I'm Like A Bird (remix)
Forca
Promiscuous

encore
Party
No Hay Igual
Maneater

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Britney Spears: The key questions

Is Britney "troubled" since the break-down of her marriage? Yes

Could shaving off all of her be a cry for help? Yes

Could it also be a really drastic way of dealing with split ends? Yes

Was it Britney's hair that recorded Baby One More Time and Toxic? No

Is bald Britney actually quite hot? Yes, but only a little

On the other hand, is her new wig hilarious? Yes


[pics via Just Jared]

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Gig Review: Regina Spektor

I am currently feeling like someone has rammed two weasels up my nose while pounding on my head with a frozen leg of lamb. Nontheless, I dragged myself out of my sick bed last night to see Regina Spektor in London. Here's what I remember:

:: On one song, she played the piano with her left hand and banged on a nearby chair with a drumstick using her right. Genius.
:: She played a (new?) country song which featured the lyric "Love is a whore". Again, genius.
:: Regina complained to the sound engineer that she was getting feedback on her piano, then turned to the audience and said: "Piano's don't even get feedback. That's how Rock and Roll I am."
:: Two girls shouted out Happy Birthday Regina, but it was not her birthday at all.
:: My favourite song of the night, possibly the year, had the following lyrics:

You know that statue
That statue of baby Jesus
In the window
In the window of the 99 cent store?
Last night I saw the owner kiss it
And whisper in its ear
I was walking home from Walgreen's
And he did not hear me see him
And on the very very next morning
All the subway cars were hallelu-leluing
Welcome back the baby king, the baby king
All the believers they were smiling
And winking at each other
I could honestly say I was scared for my life

In summary, therefore, Regina is an absolute gem. Oh, she's as mad as a box of frogs, it's true, but in the very best way.

For those of you wondering about the interview I did with her earlier this week, it's due to go up in the first week of March when the Fidelity single comes out in the UK. Here's the video:


SETLIST
Ain't No Cover
Summer in the City
Baby Jesus
The Flowers
Human of the Year
Poor Little Rich Boy
Bobbing for Apples
That Time
On the Radio
Sailor Song
Après Moi
Better
Carbon Monoxide
Fidelity
Your Honor
--------------------
Field Below
Us
Samson
--------------------
Love, You're a Whore
Hotel Song

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Blow-by-blow Brits

8:01pm ITV continuity announces that "anything could happen". I bet it couldn't. There won't be any tigers, for example. And Fearne Cotton won’t suddenly become a decent interviewer. Or will she? (Answer: no).

8:02pm The Scissor Sisters are re-creating their fabulous video with the puppets in it and their slightly-less-fabulous song with Elton John in it. This would be amazing if ITV stopped jump-cutting all over the place and just showed us the medium close up. Tsk, tsk.

8:08pm Russell Brand is here and he is better, although strangely reminiscent of, Chris Evans. Yay for Russell. He does a joke about Keith Allen being the first person to produce Lily Allen… through his willy. Guffaw!

8:15pm Snow Patrol do their song from the Grey's Anatomy advert. Mrsdiscopop shouts obscenities at the telly. Have you noticed how this song is just the same 16 bars repeated four times? It doesn’t build up to a crescendo or anything, it just gets a bit louder at the end. Next!

8:20pm Fearne Cotton is backstage with Muse, who say they deserved their best live act award (all the other acts are dead, ha ha). She tells us to vote for the best British single, but only gives us five choices. These include The Feeling?! Is she sure?!

8:25pm Here is Jarvis Cocker. Brits Trivia: He once waved his bum at Michael Jackson, who was pretending to be Jesus.

8:26pm Best Breakthrough Act goes to the Fratellis. Who the fuck are the Fratellis?

8:27pm Okay, I've heard their songs but until now I had no idea what they looked like. One of them, let's call him Hamish McScotsman, thanks his mum and dad. Rock and Roll, eh kids?

8:32pm Best International Group goes to Orson. Who the fuck are Orson?

8:33pm Orson tell MTV viewers, who voted for them, that they should be very, very ashamed of themselves.

8:33pm Not really.

8:35pm Amy Winehouse comes out. She seems to be having trouble with her beehive. She is also hula dancing like Baby's sister in Dirty Dancing. The Red Hot Chili Peppers look confused.

8:40pm Joss Stone, dressed like a hooker in a sci-fi B-movie, demands that we send out love to Robbie Williams "for what he's going through right now". Presumably she means cold turkey and not a humiliating defeat at the hands of Gary Barlow. Or the half a kilogram of coke he's shovelling up his nose.

8:41pm James Morrisson wins the best British male award. Who the fuck is James Morrisson?

8:42pm Morrison dedicates his award to "every singer-songwriter still playing in pubs". That means one of our regular readers, Dogboy, has won a Brit! Well done, Dogboy.

8:45pm I ordered a "romantic" Valentines-night curry an hour ago and it still hasn't arrived. Grrrr.

8:46pm Some guy comes out to do the intro for the best international male award. When he sees the result he goes "Oh no, not him!". See, literally anything can, and will, happen at this edgy, dangerous awards ceremony.

8:47pm Despite his protest, Justin Timberlake still gets the prize. This means JT is officially better than Bob Dylan. Who'd have thunk it?

8:50pm Hooray for The Killers, who turn out to be the first competent live act of the night. They have even brought along My Name Is Earl to play the drums. Hooray for The Killers.

8:56pm Amy Winehouse wins best British female - the first truly deserved award of the evening. I wonder if she'll have a drink to celebrate?

8:57pm Ricky Wilson is looking remarkably trim.

8:58pm Bloody hell! Nelly Furtado has won best International female. Justice at last! Nelly is wearing a terrifying dress, which threatens to reveal her busoms to the world.

Luckily, the spirit of Judy Finnegan is not with her and Nelly delivers a very touching speech about how the Brits are the most important awards because she was inspired by Blur and Tricky and Massive Attack. Nelly rules.

9:00pm Take That are doing their Patience song. Mark Owen has spotted something really interesting on the roof. Is Lily Allen about to jump? Sadly, no.

9:10pm Giles from Buffy is giving out best British band. The Arctic Monkeys win but they're not there. Apparently they're "busy" rehearsing for their tour. More likely, however, is that it's bath night and their mum won't let them out.

They are dressed up like they are in The Wizard of Oz, which is a trick they stole from Gnarls Barkley. But Gnarls Barkley aren't going to be given any awards tonight.

9:13pm Best international album goes to The Killers. Even they look surprised.

9:15pm Who is it that keeps spraying the bands with champagne as they walk up? When the camera panned around just now, there was no-one who could conceivably have had a bottle in their hands. Dare I suggest that the whole wastage of bubbly is a huge con perpetrated by the producers in an attempt to make this show seem somehow dangerous. Yes, I do dare.

9:20pm Steve Tyler and Sophie Ellis-Bextor come out to present the best international group prize. Tyler calls it best American band and Sophie corrects him in a very proper schoolmistress's voice, thereby fulfilling several hundred male sexual fantasies. As it turns out, all the nominees are American after all. The Killers win again and bring a tiny Italian waiter on stage with them. No, wait, that's Brandon Flowers.

9:25pm The curry still hasn't arrived.

9:30pm If I hear that Corinne Bailey Rae song one more time, I will have to damage a puppy. I swear.

9:31pm Luckily, I do not have to endure the song because the curry has arrived. But it's cold and the driver appears to have eaten one of the dishes on his two-hour, half-mile journey to our house. I might have a little cry now.

9:35pm Oh god, it's going from bad to worse. Alan Carr is on my telly. What is the point of this useless little cretin. I bet he's going to announce that Snow Patrol have won best single…

9:35-and-a-half pm Rejoice for the Take That band have won a prizes! Somewhere in America, Robbie Williams is opening another bottle of "prescription" drugs.

Howard (or is it Jason?) dedicates the award to his formerly-estranged dad. They cut to a picture of his dad, who looks like a character from Shameless. Brilliant!

9:40pm The last important award of the night is best British album. It goes to the Arctic Monkeys. This time they are dressed up as the Village People. Hilarious.

9:43pm Fearne Cotton has Take That standing beside her. Rather than ask the glaringly obvious Robbie question, she goes for "what's been your favourite moment of the night so far?". "Winning," says Mark Owen. Clang.

9:45pm Celebrate, for there is only one more thing to do and that is awarding Oasis with a "you're not very good any more" prize. I think I'll turn over for Desperate Housewives a couple of minutes early.

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Robyn has made an ace video

Most pop stars these days come with a heavy dose of irony. As if they're saying "we know this is all a bit silly and frivolous, but bear with us - the chorus will be good".

Not so with Robyn. She makes pop songs like they used to be when Madonna and Michael Jackson ruled the charts and put every fibre of their existence into making the catchiest, danciest, swing-your-pantsiest music you could buy with your pocket money.

I've discussed Robyn before [here]. I called her Missy Elliot on four litres of fizzy lemonade and a lungful of helium. I could also have said 'perky pop ninja'; 'supersonic swedish sexpot'; 'tiny musical atom bomb'; or 'punky electric princess'. She will quite literally slap you in the tits and make you dance.

Robyn's emponymous 2005 album, the best pop record since True Blue, is finally on its way to the UK (although you can already import it from CD Wow). Lead single Konichiwa Bitches is out on 26 March and the video is, as "they" say, the bomb:



I like the bee costume best.

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The Queen's English

Apart from the completely unexpected, but hugely deserved, crop of awards for Little Miss Sunshine, this year's awards ceremonies have been deathly dull. But this little snippet from last night's Baftas raises some hopes for the Oscars:

Dame Helen Mirren may have been the toast of the Baftas last night, but she wasn't too popular with Sky News presenter Matt Smith. Interviewing the star of The Queen on the red carpet at last night's awards bash, Smith joked that last time she was on the channel she used bad language and that Sky News was a channel "where people don't swear". Oblivious to the fact she was on air, Mirren replied: "Where people don't swear? Fucking nutbag!" A spluttering Smith replied: "You've just done it again!". Mortified, Mirren said: "Is it live? I'm sorry, I do apologise. That was an appalling thing to do. It was a joke and I take it back."
[via the Guardian]

Brilliant! Almost as good as the time the real Queen shouted out "sweaty bollocks" during the Royal Variety Performance.

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Put a question to Regina Spektor!

Gadzooks! I'll be interviewing Russian-born, New York-based songstress Regina Spektor tomorrow morning.

Regina topped my list of the best albums of 2006, so I'm massively excited about the 15 minutes I get to spend in her company. But if you've got a burning question you'd like me to ask, stick it in the comments field and I'll do my best to put it to her.

UK readers may not know too much about Regina, but her she's been a proper word-of-mouth success story in the States over the past year. Words used by the US press to describe her include idiosyncratic, magical, fantastical and fan-fucking-tastic (okay, the last one was me).

After a lengthy wait, her excellent Fidelity single is coming out in the UK in March and the album, Begin To Hope, is receiving a new push from Warner Brothers. If you haven't got it already I recommend - no, insist - that you buy it post haste.

In the meantime, you can hear / download Regina's appearance on Gideon Coe's 6 Music show last week by following this link.

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Nice song, shame about the video

The Killers: Read My Mind

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Nice video, shame about the song

Lily Allen: Alfie


Scissor Sisters: She's My Man

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Heard it before?

Was your dad right? Do all those pop songs really sound the same?

Someone on bloody myspace has set out to prove that, yes, they do. They've put together a medley of songs that, they claim, all steal the same basic structure from one another. Listen to it here.

According to their theory, Joan Osborne's tortuous What If God Was One Of Us is the prime example of this musical sleight-of-hand. To prove it, they sing its hook over the other 17 songs in their megamix.

The theory is that all these songs use the bassline A minor, F, C, G and are therefore exactly the same. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

For a start, the bass can't play A minor. It is a chord.

Secondly, anyone who has sat through even the most rudimentary lesson on musical theory will know that some chords, when put next to each other, are more pleasing to the human ear. The Am, F, C, G sequence is just one such example. It is hardly a secret.

But what of the author's statement "It is clear that our twelve-note universe is about to reach its limits"? Sorry, but no.

None of the 17 songs they feature sound particularly similar. They have to twist the melody of "What If God Was One Of Us" completely out of shape to get it to fit over Avril Lavigne's Happy Ending and Madonna's Power Of Goodbye. The point being that a chord sequence is only the very basic foundation of a song - the options of where you go afterwards are almost limitless.

In fact, the "borrowed" chord sequence is why mash-ups work and, as any fule know, the juxtaposition of two songs can create a rather wonderful, totally new, third piece of music.

Which is all a very roundabout way of saying: "Hey! Listen to this amazing mix of Superstition and Bootylicious. It's aces!"


Bootystition [via mashups.co.uk]

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Here is Joss Stone's new video

In which Joss visits the set of 1980s kids programme Why Don't You.

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Music, Lyrics, Yawning

You may not have noticed, as almost no-one has been covering it, that Hugh Grant has a new film coming out tomorrow.

Called Music & Lyrics, it's all about writing hit singles - and if that hasn't set warning bells ringing already, consider that Hugh Grant is supposed to be a pop star in it.

He plays Alex Fletcher, the keyboard player in an '80s band called Pop (the script never really aims above "will this do", as you can see). The film starts with a 'music video' from the height of the group's fame. It is exactly what film directors think music videos look like - i.e. not much cop. Still, it raises a smile.

Fast-foward to the present day and Grant is a washed-up has-been, playing gigs in theme parks and schlepping around the reality TV circuit to scrape a dollar together. Yet he lives in an superbly appointed apartment in the centre of New York, with a brand-name grand piano in his living room.

What's more, he is so loaded that he employs a girl to come round and water his plants three times a week! Given that his apartment has about four plants, this is either luxury or folly on a grand scale. Possibly both. But, seeing as the plant girl is yummy Drew Barrymore, I'll forgive him for squandering his money in this irresponsible manner. She can water my plants any time, as it were.

Things get interesting when Grant is contacted by pop diva Cora Corman (bigger than Britney and Christina put together, we're told) to write her next single. Struggling with writer's block, Grant is saved by Barrymore who - deus ex machina! - happens to be an amazing lyric writer. Her couplets include: "I could use some direction, and I'm open to your suggestion". Brilliance, no?

From here, everything sticks quite rigidly to the rom-com checklist. They fall in love, tick! There's a montage of them being happy, tick! Grant does something stupid causing her to storm out, tick! She falls back into his arms when he makes a grand gesture in the final scene, tick, tick, tick!

And, crucially for a film about music, the songs are terrible. Schlocky, schmaltzy exercises in banality. Which is a pity, because some of them came direct from Britney's producers, Bloodshy & Avant.

I'm probably giving the impression that I hated the film, but that's not quite true. The two leads are superb, fleshing out their poorly written characters with the charm and vulnerability they need. And Grant has some rather good (ad-libbed?) one-liners that make the comedy, well, comedic. It's just a shame he can't help grinning at his own jokes.

If you're heading out on a date for Valentine's Day, you could do a lot worse than going to see Music & Lyrics (slaying your potential partner's entire family in a tragic creme brulee mishap, for example). Otherwise, wait until you're really miserable and get it out on DVD. It'll go down well with a bucket of tears and a side order of Haagen Dazs.

Visit the official site if you dare

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Calling all pervs

Perv over this, you pervs.


Yes, it's the five Girls of Aloud dressing up in school uniforms to fulfill some pathetic male sexual fantasy support Comic Relief. How thoughtful of them.

Also (and how did I miss this yesterday?) here is Prince's Super Bowl tribute to Janet Jackson's underpants malfunction of 2004.


My, what a large instrument you have Mr Rogers, etc, etc. (Innuendo fans: by instrument, I mean ten foot giant devil's cock)

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Prince is really rather good

I've just watched Prince's halftime performance from the internet The Super Bowl, which featured (deep breath): Let's Go Crazy, Baby I'm A Star, Proud Mary, All Along The Watchtower (a reference to Jehovah's Witnesses?), Best Of You (yes, the Foo Fighters one) and Purple Rain.

I am genuinely lost for words. So here are some words from other people who are not lost for words like me.

"Prince won the Superbowl!" Serial Robots

"I've given it some thought, and I don't actually understand people who don't like Prince." deforgeo

"He rocked, tore down, and rebuilt that stadium." Angela's Universe

"Prince is a ferkin faerie. Him and his precious little logo can go suck on a guitar pick." Tearful Whisper (WRONG!)

"Prince plays guitar as easily as most men breath…" Steveimel

"Prince will play purple rain if and only if accompanied by actual rain." Irresponsible Journalism

"Prince fucking ruled!" tjfreeman



Coincidentally, I was reading Garry Mulholland's excellent "Fear Of Music" over the weekend, which has this to say about the genius from Minneapolis.

Is the guitar solo from Purple Rain a ludicrous ego-wank, a piss-take or a thing of beauty? If you answered 'all three' then award yourself many prince points, for you get everything gettable about pop

Couldn't have said it better myself.




[for more info on Prince, check out Anil Dash's wonderful pre-super bowl primer by clicking here]

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Justin Timberlake has ideas above his station

Justin Timberlake has rather grandly released a trailer for his new single, What Goes Around Comes Around. The video stars Scarlett Johansson, who he is rumoured to have "taken back" to his "flat" for "coffee" after the shoot. He may also have sexed her up real nice - but a gentleman never talks, eh?

It all looks rather expensive and arty, but would it have been too much trouble to have had a shave?



I've also stumbled across a video of Justin performing the song live on French television. The blistering guitar solo adds something exciting and organic to the uncharacteristically plodding Timbaland production, I think.



PS Isn't it funny how the soundman forgot to fade up Justin's piano?

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Some blogs are better than others

I've just discovered via the mighty Popjustice a superb music blog called, erm, Zeon's Music Blog.

Recent highlights include MP3s of Amy Winehouse performing live, plus a download of Amy's producer, Mark Ronson, covering Britney's Toxic. Oh, and this breathtaking video of Italian ice skater Valentina Marchei performing a routine to the Pipette's Pull Shapes.


(Beat that, celebrities on ice)

...Best of all, Zeon recently had to suspend his blog for a month after an argument with his mum got him banned from the internet. Bless.

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Goddamn what now?

Illinois emo meatheads Fall Out Boy look set to have this week's highest new entry with their terrible, terrible single This Ain't A Scene.

The lyrics to the chorus are, apparently, "This ain't a scene it's a God! Damn! Arms! Race!". So is it just me, or are they singing something entirely different?



This ain't a scene, it's a goddamn arseface???!?!


How queer.

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