I’m going to try to do monthly blog posts this year. Here’s the first – my annual round-up of the best popular music tracks of the year just ended.Continue reading Eight Tracks VI
I’m tentatively exploring the idea of the Caledonian antisyzygy. Does The Sensational Alex Harvey Band provide the right soundtrack for this blog post? Read on!Continue reading Robot Love
1992. Halcyon days. At least, if you like war in Europe and riots in America. Yep. So much has changed now. Better days.
One of the closing themes of my book, Stroke, is the subjective nature of time. So, it’s interesting to hear two remixes of Orbital’s Halcyon, thirty years on.
Logic 1000 strips it back and makes an asthmatic middle-aged stroke survivor think he could still rave it up in a sweaty whitewashed cube of a room somewhere in Edinburgh – if such a place still exists, Grandad.
John Hopkins makes some concessions to the passing of time and makes an A.M-a.S.S. think he could really dig it after the Wee Man’s gone to sleep, on a good pair of noise-cancelling headphones.
None of it convinces me that 17-year-old Ricky was right in his conviction that time’s arrow was dragging us into a future that could only get better [sic].
On the other hand, Long-sufferingreaderoftheblogpaul introduced me today to a trilogy of science fiction books which opens with Earth awaiting an invasion from the closest star system. So, things aren’t necessarily all bad.
The conversation got to the author remarking that he hadn’t listened to much more-or-less-political music with the impact of Strummer’s work (with and without The Clash) since the late punk’s death.
Conversely, I don’t seem to be able to listen to anything that isn’t angry about something right now. Not least since, now he’s five, the Wee Man is all
Public Enemy, the Bee Gees or die, Sucker!My son, every day (not really (but yeah, kinda))
Maybe by the end of the month, I can expand his palette to include Run The Jewels, Sleaford Mods and the great new(ish) Leith/Peebles band I checked out at the Banshee Labyrinth last month, Gutterblood.
Poor wee sod.
Oh yeah, and Mrs Stroke Bloke stumbled across an article about Killer Mike from Run The Jewels in the paper today.
Well, of course apoplectic.me is back for my favourite post of every year – a round-up of the best popular music tracks of 2021. I wonder if the list will reflect the nature of the year…?Continue reading Eight Tracks V
After King Rocker the other week, Mrs Stroke Bloke indulged me by sitting through Creation Stories, a biopic of sorts about Creation Records main man, Alan McGee.
Creation Records plays a big part in my, er, origin story, as indirectly noted by an old school friend.Continue reading A Personal History Of Creation
The Wee Man objects to my musical taste. Fair enough. If your three-year-old is waxing lyrical about Arab Strap’s marvellous return, he’s got problems. But not as many as he’s got in store for you.
So, when I’m listening to 6Music/something from 1991/Britain’s slide into fascism*, the demands from the back seat begin.
Continue reading Disappointment
“80s MUSIC!!!”The Wee Man, 2021
After I published the latest apoplectic.me post in August, Paul commented that
the new music in 2020 hasn’t caught my ear yet. Nothing like last years Jaime by Brittany Howard, which I loved. I also fear we are about to get some not very good quarantine inspired music coming our way.Comments to Under Cover Under Wraps
Amid the huge static roar of distraction that was 2020, perhaps it’s unsurprising that there’s something out of time about my Eight Tracks of the year.
Join me, won’t you, on a journey to a place that isn’t here in a time that isn’t now. It’s gotta be better than this, right? Or, just hit up the Spotify playlist.Continue reading Eight Tracks IV
Hi! How you doing? Hello…?
I hope that your home-administered haircut has left you still looking as hot as horribly-coiffed Cillian Murphy in 28 Days Later.Continue reading Under Cover Under Wraps
With thanks and apologies to Long-Suffering-Reader-Of-The-Blog-Paul.
Long-suffering readers of the blog will know I’m a huge fan of nineties British indie music. So, I was thrilled when a hot, skinny boy who looks good in an Adidas tracksuit came onto the stage this week.
(Dominic Cummings ft. Blur)