The first time I went to New York, the third thing on my list of things to do was to pick up a copy of The Village Voice to see what was happening in the world I so longed to be part of (the first and second things were to drink a Budweiser in CBGB’s).
I found this great little article about it which is worth a read but there’s also this article right here about the final print edition. At great risk of sounding like an old man, I have grown to detest the internet with a vengeance because much like a plague of locusts, all it ever leaves in its wake are indiscriminate husks of everything that was once great about the world.
Here’s the Village Voice website. It’s not so bad but more than this, now it’s just another website in a sea of millions on my phone screen whereas the paper copy stood alone.
When it comes to your soul, this kind of progress is nothing but an illusion.
Meantime, I’ve broken my TV blackout for something I meant to watch a while back but never did. The Winter King (ITVX - oh, the irony of having to go online to watch it) is superb in every way
This is so good, I’d have gone to the cinema to see it twice, which would have been a fine, fine option because what’s actually on at the cinema this week is garbage, ie: four sequels in franchises that suck. Next week however (or maybe it’s the week after) Godzilla x Kong is out which I’m very excited about - I’m so invested in it that I’ve booked advance tickets and even included my younger daughters boyfriend who doesn’t like watching films (!) in the hope that it will bring him to his senses. Buying a ticket for him seemed a more civil option than slapping him so hard he would have no choice but to change his star sign.
Grade A, unadulterated garbage of the highest order. I’m not sure what it says about me that I hit 56 and still love monster movies as much as I did the day my mother sat me down in front of Jack the Giant Killer:
Regardless of quality, I’m pleased to let the world know this monster magic is something I’ve passed on to my two kids in spades.
I wonder what Ray Harryhausen would have made of what’s up on the big screens now.
Slightly related (if you make the assumption that Excalibur will make an appearance in The Winter King - which would be a good assumption to make) is this story of one man and a cheap-ass fishing rod with a magnet on the end.
It begs the question of the main news sites as to why stories like this don’t make it to their pages. I don’t have an answer to that but the question stands anyway.
Meanwhile, my lack of love for The Beatles is well known but I am eating my own words as of this very day. Not all my words, but some of them. A few… let’s call it six words.
Out of a barren wilderness, I plucked an episode of Paul McCartney: A Life In Lyrics from my podcast recommendations and it was excellent. One of the best things I’ve listened to in a long time. So good was it, that I spent the rest of the day listening to all the other episodes too, thus ending up with a profound respect for how he wrote songs, especially lyrically (which was after all, the point of the podcast).
Thoroughly impressed, I figured I’d best get my hands on a copy of this to get the whole story:
I never thought I’d see the day.
You can pick the podcast up pretty much anywhere - it features (across 2 seasons) 24 songs that get talked about in depth. The book I believe, runs to about 150 songs and a man like me can still learn something from a man like that… even if he’s still rebelling against his old man’s favourite band 50 years later.
I still believe that unless you can perform a song with nothing but an acoustic guitar (or a piano) and have it stand up, it’s probably not that good a song. It is instead, the work of a brilliant producer and engineer. On which note, I went to find this (which is my favourite Beatles song) and was pleased to see it does indeed stand up mighty tall even without that barrage of accessories it can usually be found with:
Essentially, it’s two chords which gets a major thumbs up from me, but if you want your mind bent totally out of shape, here’s what’s really going on (though I’m pretty sure in that first video, he’s winging it with only slight variations on the two chords):
Strictly speaking, that’s less than five things but also, a lot more. Never was good at math. If you feel cheated, here’s my favourite album of the last few days from Nothing But Thieves:
Came out a little while ago, but that’s OK. If it’s new to you, then it’s new. Here’s the title track:
Five. Happy?
Good :)
Eleanor Rigby is my favourite Beatles song: “ wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door” is poetic genius. Time to repent, Sion, there are many, many great Beatles tracks.
Superb blogging! And great to hear you've converted - Eleanor Rigby is indeed a fine song. Now, if you ever need someone to teach you Blackbird... ;)