In demand

I’ve been invited to be interviewed on Radio Kent on Saturday morning (Radio Kent being rather imprecisely named as it covers a not inconsiderable part of Sussex). The Pat Marsh show is doing a feature on blogs and blogging between 11.15 and 11.45 and wanted me to chat on that subject, but I’ve declined the invitation as I’m keeping my diary clear in case I have to take H to the hospital at a moment’s notice (the baby being due to arrive any day now). But it might be worth listening to – I hope they don’t focus too much on the geeky and egotistical aspects of blogging and talk a little about their value for information and community (two factors which have always been and probably always will be sadly lacking from this site!).

And we all remember the issue of Computer Active for 3 May 2001 that featured this site, don’t we?

Unusual family

Last night, as a special treat for our wedding anniversary, we headed up to the Trinity Theatre in Tunbridge Wells to see the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players, who played with support from Langhorne Slim.

Slim played some folksy bluegrass songs, mostly about lost love and failed relationships, with sprinklings of humour and wry observation and even a smattering of audience participation. Pretty good, although he failed to really get the Tunbridge Wells audience going. Mind you, it has to be said that it usually takes quite something to get the Tunbridge Wells audience going – free canapés and a glass of bubbly generally do the trick, both of which were lacking for this gig.

After the interval, the main attraction took the stage. Hels said afterwards that if you didn’t have your surreal head on, you weren’t going to get this outfit – and Tunbridge Wells doesn’t do surreal very well. I think about 10 people in the audience really got the hang of what was being achieved before them.

The Trachtenburgs are a three piece outfit, consisting of Jason on keyboards, guitar and lead vocals, his wife Tina Piña on slide projector and daughter Rachel (aged a somewhat precocious 11 years) on drums and backing vocals. Yes, you read that correctly – not slide guitar, but slide projector. The premise here is that the Trachtenburgs collect 35mm transparency collections from thrift stores, pawn shops, car boot fairs and so on. They then reinterpret them to music, on stage, whilst wearing the worst 1970s fashions (not overstated parody fashions, mind you, but those subtly bad items from that era).

The songs, of course, are just as awful as the photographs that they are played to. Crossing just about every genre under the sun, from prog rock to gospel, songs such as Look At Me and the five-part McDonald’s rock opera (incorporating the totemic What Will The Corporation Do?) amusingly take the mickey out of the innocents portrayed in the slides – though none could exactly be described as sing-along. But the awfulness is part of the act, coupled with the polished amateurness of the performers (complete with Rachel’s persistent gum chewing and Jason’s asides about how something always goes wrong with their shows) and an amusing mid-set Q&A session.

The set was rather let down by lacklustre sound quality in the Trinity, meaning that some of Jason’s lyrics were indistinct – rather important when the lyrics relate so closely to the content of the slides on show. The crazy distortion that resulted from projecting onto a full height screen from a projector sat on the floor actually added to the surreality of the performance, although I’m not sure if that was intentional.
If you get the chance, go and see them whilst they are on tour. But try to pick a venue where the audience might appreciate it.

Peel night

I’ve listened to the first three and a half hours of the special Peel night on Radio 1. Lammo has just played My Bloody Valentine. I can sleep now (and probably listen to the rest tomorrow on BBC Listen Again).

Rare groove

In a rare event, last seen back in May (I think), I treated myself to two CDs today. One, obtained second-hand for the princely sum of £2.99, is Land of the Lost by Greyboy – definitely suitable for dinner parties in polite company (assuming said company has good taste, of course) or, as we did this evening, for listening to whilst flopping on the sofa. The second, obtained from my favourite record store in Brighton (Edge World Records, for those in the know), is Seasonally Affective, a retrospective by Piano Magic – they wonderfully describe their music as "romantic and square", which is a fair description of tracks like The Sharpest Knife In The Drawer but doesn’t really cover the bleeps and bloops of For Engineers AA. Recommended.

I *so* need to get back into listening to music properly.

EDIT: you know, I can’t help but think that someone like Vaughan would enjoy music that is "romantic and square". Particularly a track that had a title like "I am the Sub-Librarian".

News

Mo Mowlam, RIP. I can’t see the PM not turning up for this funeral. But he never fails to amaze me, so anything is possible.
Madeleine Peyroux "disappears" – probably to go and hide for a few months after the quite dire performance she gave for Top of the Pops the other day. She’s got a voice, for sure, but she doesn’t seem to have stage confidence judging by that showing.

Nerd?

Today’s episode of All In The Mind on Radio 4 with the ubiquitous Prof. Raj Persaud became intensely amusing to me as a I channel-surfed the car radio, mainly because there was an intensely earnest discussion about gifted children taking place in which one of the contributors was a Professor John Geake (or Geek, if you will). I don’t know about gifted child, but I’m pretty sure that he had seventeen varieties of poo beaten out of him when he was at school with a name like that.

Toy

I want one of these.
You can buy one here if you live in the UK.
I heard about it here.
I think I may need better speakers. And a better car. But hey, I can dream.

Serious muso

I’m so utterly out-of-touch with music these days. Back in the distant past of bachelorhood, I’d spend at least a couple of evenings each week listening to obscure music on Peel, the web or odd CDs I’d picked up for a couple of quid in those boxes that the record stores in North Laine stand on the pavement outside their shopfronts.
These days, with a wife, two kittens and an all-consuming small business, time like that is a luxury.
But, occasionally, an opportunity presents itself. Today, that opportunity has been doing my accounts, which has meant a long period spent at the laptop with headphones on to try and shut out the outside world (and also to help preserve my sanity when I realise exactly how many receipts I have from the Post Office).
But where to start? There is so much good music on the web, as well as an awful lot of dross. I’ve got a few editions of GHC sitting on the hard drive that I haven’t got round to yet, but somehow I wasn’t quite ready for a full two hour session with Lars. So, I cast my mind back to some of the stuff I’d heard on Peel and thought about looking a few of the bands and artists up. I’m not sure why they crept into my head, but my thoughts wandered to The Bays. Go there now. Register (it’s free). Download. Listen. Enjoy.
And check out their "profile" section to get some background on The Bays and their whole ethos. And read "Taylor’s Tales" – somebody give the man a book deal, ok?

Graybo on Live8

I managed to curtail my usually unbridled cynicism and watch/listen to a fair bit of the London Live8 gig last night whilst getting ready to go to/going to/having dinner at friends. It wasn’t bad for the most part (Jonathan Ross making a few barbed comments about the Eden Project gig along the lines of "wow! it looks like the real fun is going on there!") apart from some slightly nauseating luvvies getting it on with their egos (whilst it’s jolly good of these people to give their time and energy to do it, one can’t help but think that they will be making a hefty mint in royalties from increased record sales and lovely publicity).
But best of all was seeing The Who and the reformed Floyd showing the kids how it should be done. I get the feeling that we’ll never see the likes of that again.