Aching Brain

Adverts that shout work. I like them. “Bang and the dirt is gone.” They weren’t lying and if I hadn’t been so entertained by the shouty antics of Barry Scott I wouldn’t have bought what can only be described as the most potent chemical concoction available to buy (legally) in a supermarket.

My latest favourite is Tyrannosaurus Alan. I don’t know why I am so enamoured by a fuzzy felt dinosaur and shouty volcano. I once had a conversation with a marketing type who had to find out why Volvic was continuously outperformed by Evian sales-wise. I didn’t know the answer then, but told him that it was because Volvic sounded like part of the female anatomy and everyone knows that Vittel is better than both of them. I think however he must have found the solution; everyone loves the wacky dinosaur and his volcanic buddy. Today’s Metro even featured a three (half-)page long advert featuring the aforementioned characters in cartoon strip style (and revealed Mr Volcano’s first name √¢‚Ǩ‚Äú George!), I just can’t wait to find out what happens next.

Does it really work though? As much as I am entertained by Mr (George) Volcano’s peculiar pronunciation of water I won’t start buying Volvic until they decide to do a ‘free’ (¬£2.99 for P&P of course) Tyrannosaurus Alan toy. Now, there’s a thought!

Popularity: 94% [?]

Why oh why. Busker, every morning, in his licensed Carling sponsored busker spot, 8.55am, like clockwork, Wish you were here by Pink Floyd. Not only has he got a luminous cardboard sign telling people to smile, or cheer up, or something along those lines, but he’s ever so slightly flat in his delivery and never bothers to sing the first ten or so lines of the song. Just every day starts at How I wish, how I wish you were here, etc and repeats this segment over and over and over.

Hardly smile inducing.

Popularity: 95% [?]

What on earth motivates the choice of hold music? In my last workplace I didn’t even realise that we hold music until I rang in one day to say I would be late. Terrible crimes against music were being perpetrated via our telephones, the worst examples of midi lift Muzak I had ever heard. Needless to say I turned it off, and changed it for a nice computer voice telling people they were on hold every 20 seconds, with some inoffensive bleeping in between (the choices were limited, and there was no ‘upload your tune here’ option).

At the moment I am on hold to IT and for some reason they have chosen a tasteless midi version of the music from France Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet (more popularly known for its use on Our Tune).It is driving me round the bend, and I am just wondering why on earth IT thought that the romantically-tinged midi strains of Our Tune would inspire me to continue to hold rather then destroy the telephone with a sledgehammer.

I would like to know what the readers of achingbrain have heard while on hold, either truly awful or pleasantly surprising. My personal favourite is the one at my Dad’s office, a marine salvaging and surveying company, where they have chosen to greet callers with the Titanic soundtrack (with its terrible midi choir, but that’s another blog in itself) - awful music, but appropriately snigger-worthy given the line of business.

Alternatively please join Pipedown in their crusade against ear-assaulting piped Muzak in general.

Popularity: 94% [?]

Yes, the rumours are true. After years of experimental transport schemes involving the drilling of tunnels and buses with unstable middles, not to mention their occasionally explosive rear ends, the Mayor of London in his infinite wisdom has decided that the tram, beloved of Dr Zhivago-era Moscow and Judy Garland’s St Louis, is the way forward for transport. Better still, it will link those of us marooned on rock unsuitable for tunnelling, with our friends and jobs op’North and their fancy underground system.

After a lot of whispers and countless rumours it appears that the proposed Cross River Tram has finally gone to, wait for it, consultation. This means that they will probably push some bits of paper around for a long time and then might finish it by the time I’m forty and living in the sticks somewhere. As part of the consultation they want the local opinions of local people to add to their paper pile.

It is thoroughly important that you exercise your democratic right to inform our elected mayor of your opinions. Get your consultation document here. It won’t even cost you the price of a stamp to get your opinions on the route and the termini heard.

I am however rather miffed that some locals have already hijacked this scheme and decided it’s an entirely stupid plan because apparently artists’ studios, churches and businesses might have to be bulldozed to make way for a tram depot, which, after looking at their map, the businesses in question seem to be Trinketz, Ash’s Meat Centre, I think a car wash place, and that unsightly factory with the yellowed and broken windows you see as you come into Peckham Rye station from London Bridge. It is, according to these locals, an “area with potential for redevelopment.” They have already had their petitions out, you may have seen one floating around your nearest twee shop recently. This attitude says to me that a better, sustainable, and environmentally sound transport system for the area would be entirely pointless if they couldn’t buy unique prints entitled “Pain” and “Freedom” to put on the mantelpiece of their Bellenden boudoir.

I have a feeling that they may have missed the point. The tramline will bring better access to jobs in central London for many people. It will provide redevelopment in their “area with potential for redevelopment” and jobs on the trams and at the terminus and depot for local people. It would involve new building, and I suspect a more light and open feel to the area around Peckham Rye station. Not to mention the fact that it will hugely help the redevelopment of the bit of Peckham that no one likes to think about, which includes everywhere North of Peckham High Street as well as the Aylesbury and Heygate estates, by providing them with a fast and much needed link to Peckham town centre, and to Waterloo and beyond, and thus jobs. At then end of the day people living there have far more need for a better transport system.

I might sound like I’ve swallowed a bit of Ken’s propaganda on this, but having seen the change that the tram brought to Croydon (okay, I still wouldn’t like to spend too much time there, but the place has smartened up a lot since the tram was opened) I am convinced that the benefits far outweigh the problems of having a depot in Peckham.

I’ve said my thing, whichever way you lean on this, and whether you think I’m talking rubbish or not, please examine the consultation document and make those opinions heard to ensure that the area continues to thrive in the future.

Popularity: 95% [?]

Mouse is in the house,
Crooked of tail and ugly.
Please get stuck on glue.

Popularity: 29% [?]

Oh dear - the amazingly vapid Sandi Thom is back with her latest hit, What if I’m right? Some have suggested that my particularly high levels of venom towards Sandi are caused by my insane jealousy of her archetypal girl next door’s rags to riches success story. Just to clear this matter up, if anyone has ever seen me playing on stage on my own then you will know that musical recognition or a career as a solo performer is not something I aspire to; it seems to trigger this strange all over shaky effect coupled with a rabbit-in-the-headlights style reaction.

Enough about me, now Sandi, bless, got her record contract after being spotted when she did a webcast of her gigs from her basement. If you are silly enough to believe that this wasn’t organised by the RCA marketing man in the first place, then you probably also believe that Lily Allen wasn’t aided and abetted in some by her father’s very existence.

I would normally be willing to forgive this, because let’s face it the only way we are introduced to music is via some marketing ploy; even seemingly word of mouth promotion is engineered by them in some way. I have no problem with this state of affairs.

What I do have a problem with is Sandi’s rough book scribble style lyrics. I am not saying I could do any better, because writing lyrics is exceedingly difficult. Even Roger Waters said that he now thought that the words on Dark Side of the Moon were slightly “sixth-form-ish.” I don’t think old Roger has a thing to worry about, next to the banality of Thom’s record Smile, it confuses people. Aside from the laughable title of the record, the first song was set in some kind of crazy Thom-verse where the 60s and the 70s merged to create a land ruled by punk rockers with flowers in their hair, where letters were the de facto communication method, and dirty footballers were every girls dream. Look love, if you detest modern society so much, why are you so comfortable with your online presence being such a large part of your press releases? There’s even another song on the album called When horsepower meant what it said, which features choice lines such as:

And if we’re keeping up with progress why am I standing still
Maybe we should take a walk and talk to the horses on the hill.

I was sure many bands have come up with equally daft lyrics, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I find so especially grating about Sandi Thom. That was until I heard her second single What if I’m right? The song seems to be an ode to her ideal husband. Um, well, to tell you the truth, it makes him sound about as bland as her music. I feel sorry for the poor boy who has to live up to all this. Just for clarity here are the words.

Take me on a journey and be there ’til the end
It won’t be an uphill struggle, on you I can depend
You’ll promise me a dream home with roses round the door
You’ll cover me in diamonds, there’s nothing I’ll want for

You’ll be strong and you’ll turn me on
But I got my doubts and what if I’m right
You’ll be true and be faithful too
But I got my doubts, and what if I’m right
What if I’m right

‘Cause if the rain starts falling, you’ll protect me with your coat
You’ll always tape the football and let me watch my shows
You’ll always be this handsome, and your weight will never gain
And when I give birth to our children, I will feel no pain

You’ll bring me flowers and you’ll bring me showers
But I got my doubts, and what if I’m right
You’ll say I’m thin and bring the washing in
But I got my doubts, and what if I’m right
What If I’m right

We’ll always keep the magic, the tender love and care
And when you need to change the light bulb you won’t hand me the chair
And when we’re tired of the city, and we find a country home
You’ll sell your vinyl records and go get us a loan

You’ll be my sympathetic lover, and you won’t steal the covers
But I got my doubts and what if I’m right
You won’t forsake me, your mother won’t hate me
But I got my doubts and what if I’m right
You’ll be strong and you’ll turn me on
But I got my doubts and, what if I’m right
You’ll be true and be faithful too
But I’ve got my doubts and what if I’m right
What if I’m right

Show me the way to the vomitorium, I mean, have you ever heard anything quite so repellent? Answers below please…

Popularity: 33% [?]

‘Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello what have we ‘ere… My afternoon began with a buzz on my buzzer.

“Police,” said the crackly voice.

“Police?!” I replied in my best pubescent boy voice.

“Yes, police,” the voice retorted.

Regaining my composure, “Sure, yes, I’ll just come down.”

Turns our that the next door basement flat has had the door kicked in, and stuff taken. The classic quick smash and grab crack addict method burglary. Apologies, reader, but my views on crack addicts are slightly unsympathetic, following our burglary a couple of years ago and six months of window/door-smashing hell in New Cross. I’m sure with support, love, and rehabilitation they would all be fine upstanding citizens.

Anyway back to the story. The copper wanted to know if I saw anything, heard the alarm going off etc. I explained that I’d just been in the shower and hadn’t heard anything.

In my attempts to replicate Jimmy Stewart as sick bed PI in Rear Window, I tried to remember what I’d seen out of the window while boiling an egg this morning, while reading my book, while on the phone to work. I couldn’t recall anything strange, and then suddenly realised that I thought I had heard an alarm.

I have become totally de-sensitised to sirens, alarms etc. Not a day goes by without a continually siren-punctuated soundscape and at least one car/house alarm going off in the vicinity. If this had happened where I grew up, I would have been twitching at the net curtains all day. Needless to say I feel awful. I had probably subconsciously ignored this warning sign and allowed this crime to happen.

New resolution - pay more attention.

Popularity: 29% [?]

Further to Alex’s Tesco Metro queuing drama last week, I had an interesting experience in Primark, while paying for some very lovely (and extremely cheap) stripy jumpers.

Now as much as I love the Primark, I do have one rule: never buy the underwear. It is badly constructed and just looks cheap. If you are going to spend a lot of money on clothing you should spend it on good underwear. I am no fashion expert but I do believe (and think that many ladies will agree) that it is the structuring underneath, which will make or break a good outfit.

So there I was paying for my jumpers. To my left was a young looking girl in some very dubious looking pleather and lace ensemble, to my right was a thirty-something in twinset and pearls. On my left, a basket full of underwear sets, at least eight or so. On my right, one item - a yellow and purple, ribbon-fastening basque. On my left, pays with a ¬£50 note and almost drops it down her sizable cleavage, giggles, bats eyelids, and says in Eastern European accent, “Vil I get change from zat sir?” On my right, a look of indignation and says in the queen’s very own English, “But I am sure it said ¬£4 on the rail, I don’t understand how it can cost ¬£8 here,” huffs and puffs a little.

This entertained me greatly, and as I left the store I thought to myself, “Only in Peckham.”

On a totally separate note, I’ve just seen the new Cillit Bang advert on TV and it’s about 50 times more shouty than the last one - hilarious.

Popularity: 29% [?]

Ugh, the Jeff Buckley merchandising machine chugs back into action, read about it here.

I am truly mortified. It could only get worse if Orlando Bloom gets cast in the lead.

Popularity: 35% [?]

Groovy stuff. I got me a photo page. Check out my snaps of Ireland and Spain. More coming soon.

Popularity: 26% [?]

I just went to a seminar about Power Point where the trainer said (to an audience of career PAs), “creativity cannot be taught, it is a gift, if you don’t have creativity may be someone else in the office should be making your presentation.” At which point I thought, a) why are you bothering with this seminar at all? and b) where is the creativity in using Power Point?

Be prepared, I am now equipped to unleash spinning exploding text on the world.

Ugh.

Oh, and Alex, can I ask two questions in a blog? Although the questions are rhetorical, so I expect it doesn’t count…

Popularity: 22% [?]

I’m going for short and sweet today.

Type “map” into Google. The Google Maps site only comes out fifth on the result list. Surely they could skew that kind of thing. However, I am pleased that the tube map comes out higher. It is certainly one of the most iconographic designs in existence. Then again, give it 50 years and people will probably be saying the same of Google’s logo.

Popularity: 22% [?]

I receive and send an outrageous amount of emails every day from my work address. At this point it may be worth pointing out that my hotmail address is currently totally unmanageable as well. All the emails full of useful information are lost in amongst the hundreds of emails from friends, which amount to a kind of online discussion board that exists to coordinate various important social gatherings (teh quiz), to send forth the latest humourous interweb finding (tronguy), and more generally to preserve our mutual sanity in moments of work dullness. And as another aside to this blog maybe we should have an achingbrain.net comment board for those of us who are blocked from using web-based mail / blog sites at work. The membership would of course be terribly exclusive.

So back to my inbox and its 1112 emails, all of which I have never bothered to put into folders. I had this theory that I would delete the useless ones, and then use the Outlook “Find” function to track down the useful emails when required. Sadly my inbox is now so crowded that the “Find” function is about as speedy as a snail.

So today, I have declared “Inbox management day” (please feel free to join in my celebrations). Today I am going to create folders and file my emails; I am going to blog about it before I begin.

For some time now I have considered the unsorted and unregimented inbox as the last bastion of my insubordination. I’ll explain, in my current job I am working in an industry I never expected to, my job is to organise another’s life, and frankly at times it blows. The random emails floating about in inbox space reminded me of someone who didn’t want to file for life, free and easy, floating in the wind (apologies for the metaphor overload)… As much as I would like to keep it this way, technology has scuppered my attempts, and hindered my propagation of the scruffiest inbox in the world.

So today, it’s time to accept my fate, clip my wings, and prepare myself for a life of filing. Am I sad? Well, a bit. But I suppose this is a prequel to a much longer blog I have stored up about the problems of being a member of the undefined generation (aka Generation Y). I hope my boss doesn’t know about this site.

Popularity: 24% [?]

It’s Mozart’s 250th birthday today and what a grand old age to reach! So the BBC’s website asks its readers “Was Mozart the greatest musical genius?”, and I for one would like to add my two cents worth. Assessing the greatness of anything, and in particular people, is a risky business. After all what kind of unit is a ‘great’?

A brief diversion on the “What is ‘great’” topic for you all:

Mozart wrote a shed load of music in 35 years. Haydn wrote nearly four times the amount of Mozart in 70 years. Therefore where great = quantity of musical output, Haydn > Mozart.

That’s not going to work… What’s that saying; quality not quantity.

So, what if great = quality of musical output? Quality in any art form is usually loosely based on the number of people who appreciate, enjoy and like said art work. According to something I read a couple of weeks ago, if you ask people to name a classical composer they are most likely to say Mozart. Therefore, if a high percentage of people say Mozart, Mozart is the greatest.

Again, this doesn’t appear to satisfy.

So here are my rules for calmly and level-headedly assessing the life and time of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, remember them, and they will serve you well in surviving this day of Mozart-based madness…

1. The first rule of music history is that it is the historians chose whose lives to record

Mozart had a prolific letter writing habit that he picked up during his extensive travels in both childhood and adulthood. Largely thanks to these letters his life is unusually easy to document. In fact, you can buy a book of all his own and his family’s letters, it’s about 1000 pages long and printed on what I would term ‘bible paper’ (you know, the very thin stuff). No other composer of that era has left behind such a wonderful primary source for historians to work with. However, reading between the lines is necessary with this tome because a fairly large quantity of the letters say nothing whatsoever about music. And it is this reading between the lines that causes some documenters of Mozart’s life to take liberties (read Charles Hazelwood, but that’s an entirely different blog). All this is beside the point. Essentially Mozart has been chosen to be great because he left behind a wealth of information, relevant or not, for historians to play with. This should be the first thing anyone studying music should be told.

2. The second rule of music history is that making nice with Baron von Swieten is handy

The Baron von Swieten, ah, bless his soul! Without him Mozart’s work would have probably sat locked in a dusty corner of the Austro-Hungarian Empire waiting for some unassuming musician to give it a turn. Baron von Swieten is instrumental in all of the following events; firstly, performing Mozart’s works post-death, secondly, for giving Beethoven enough money to cut and run from traditional patronage arrangements (something that music historians will tell you led to trail-blazing creativity - there is some truth in this), and thirdly, for building interest around the music of JS Bach, a torch later carried and run with by Mendelssohn. Well done, Herr von Swieten. Just think of all those dusty manuscripts that are still sitting in the furthest corner of the former empire and have never been heard.

3. The third rule of music history is that it’s better to burn out than to fade away

Perhaps more evidence of this syndrome in the popular music canon, but many people speculate about what could have been, if Mozart had continued to write music in the early C19th, and if he’d finished his requiem mass. Mozart is documented as being a bit of a wild child; again how much of this is true is open to interpretation. No one really knows how he died; was it syphilis, or a bad pork chop? Did he have Tourette’s syndrome? As Milos Forman will have us believe, was he an alcoholic? Adulation of the young, tortured musician seems to capture everyone’s imagination; Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Jeff Buckley, Ian Curtis, WA Mozart…

In summary (although the summary is looking longer than the actual blog):

Genius and greatness are two heavily loaded terms that should be used with maximum caution. Greatest should emphatically never be used. Yes, Mozart was prolific, in a short life, and he had his achievements, but the greatest? I personally think there is no greatest, in anything. As an aside, this is why everyone loves those “Top 100″ programmes, because it gives you something to agree or disagree with. Humans have this wonderful habit of never being able to 100% agree with one another, which does make the world an interesting place. To summarise Mozart you could say something like, “there is an element of greatness to Mozart’s brief but bright musical career.” That would be fair.

“History is bunk” to quote Henry Ford. Whilst I don’t entirely agree with Mr Ford, it is important to remember that the reason one person is lauded over and above another usually comes down to some fairly basic and unfair selection criteria. Mozart left more behind, because he travelled a great deal, and he left a lot of information in the hands of a powerful patron of the arts. Unfair, but convenient.

Never believe Charles Hazelwood, well occasionally you can, but it’s just safer to disregard the ‘evidence’ he supplies.

One of my favourite pieces of Mozart information, and a brilliant musical achievement, is that he was instrumental in inventing and popularising German language opera. Quite logically, he couldn’t understand why all these German-speaking Austrians wanted to go and see operas sung in Italian. So, against the wishes of his patron (the emperor of the Austro-Hungarian empire), he just went wrote and opera in German. You go Mozart, next stop Wagner…

Ignore anything you read about the ‘Mozart Effect’ (click here for a decent overview). I know plenty of really clever people who were reared on hairspray rock, 80s cheese, and either still don’t listen to classical music or were only introduced to the genre later in life. This is total nonsense. Anyone interested in joining me for a ceremonial burning of the latest Classic FM money spinner?

And finally, any writings in the field of music rely heavily on opinion, so feel free to entirely disregard the entirity of the above. If you love your Mozart and are willing to give him the title of ‘greatest musical genius’ please post with opinions.

Much like Beethoven, I am having trouble finishing this, so one last thought… Happy Birthday Mozart! Much of your music gives me great pleasure, however Eine Kleine Nachtmusik is frankly a bit under par for you…

Popularity: 27% [?]

I tend to listen to internet radio at work, and because I am a bit of loser at heart I quite like Virgin. Most of what they play is pretty drekky, but every so often they’ll come up with a real corker. For example they just played the full version of ‘Good Vibrations’ by the Beach Boys, which is undoubtedly a masterpiece. Unfortunately, they followed it by that irritating James Blunt fellow, not quite so masterful. But now they’re playing Bob Marley, and that is just fine by me.

Enough about my lousy taste in music, let’s get back on track. They upgraded their player last week and for some reason my computer just spat it back at me. After many frustrations the only way I could get it to work was to download their toolbar and launch it from that. This toolbar has a built in pop-up blocker (fairly handy) and an Ask Jeeves search bar (totally useless).

Virgin’s player opens in a pop-up window, so it gets blocked every time I try and open it. That entertained me somewhat.

Popularity: 24% [?]

Track seven, eh. Meant to be the best track on all albums ever, or so someone told me once. Let’s test this out…

With the aid of the very handy Rocklist, I had a hunt around for some of those greatest albums of all time lists. I thought we should go a bit trans-atlantic on this one, and also reader-centric. So I have for you the lists Q vs. Rolling Stone (an unfair comparison, many would argue), but this is only a bit of impromptu madness I just decided to concoct.

Let’s start with the Q’s list from 2003:

1. Nirvana - Nevermind (1991)
2. Radiohead - OK Computer (1997)
3. The Beatles - Revolver (1966)
4. Radiohead - The Bends (1995)
5. Eminem - The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)
6. Sex Pistols - Never Mind The Bollocks (1977)
7. The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses (1989)
8. Oasis - Definitely Maybe (1994)
9. The Strokes - Is This It (2001)
10. U2 - Achtung Baby (1991)

And onto Rolling Stone’s list from 2002:

1. The Beatles - Revolver (1966)
2. Nirvana - Nevermind (1991)
3. Beatles - Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967)
4. U2 - The Joshua Tree (1987)
5. The Beatles - The Beatles (aka The White Album) (1968)
6. The Beatles - Abbey Road (1969)
7. Guns n’ Roses - Appetite for Destruction (1987)
8. Radiohead - OK Computer (1997)
9. Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin IV (1971)
10. U2 - Achtung Baby (1991)

The differences between the list, show a few things quite well. Firstly, British audiences are more likely to put faith in recent releases (I’m absolutely positive Eminem wouldn’t get a look in this year’s list). Secondly, Britpop only happened in Britain (Definately Maybe, hmm), and Guns n’ Roses definately only happened in the USA. Thirdly, a copy of The Red Album and The Blue Album would probably cover about 50% of the American list. Lastly, U2 will never be a number one kind of band (okay, maybe that’s just my opinion).

Now back to the point - track seven.

It’s official, the average person in the UK would most like the following tracks on a compilation tape/minidisc/iPod/CDR:

Nirvana - Territorial Pissings
Radiohead - Fitter Happier
The Beatles - She Said
Radiohead - Just
Eminem - Way I Am
Sex Pistols - Seventeen
The Stone Roses - Song for my Sugar Spun Sister
Oasis - Bring it on Down
The Strokes - Last Nite
U2 - Fly

And the average person in the USA would most like the following tracks on a compilation tape/minidisc/iPod/CDR:

The Beatles - She Said
Nirvana - Territorial Pissings
Beatles - Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite
U2 - In God’s Country
The Beatles - While my Guitar Gently Weeps
The Beatles - Here Comes the Sun
Guns n’ Roses - My Michelle
Radiohead - Fitter Happier
Led Zeppelin - Going to California
U2 - Fly

Based upon this incredibly slap-dashed attempt at evidence, I am not convinced by this track seven business. I’m going to need some convincing, surely there must be some better track seven’s than the above in the world? Answers on a postcard, or just as a comment below please…

Popularity: 30% [?]

On a lighter note. After that rather expansive potted history of Buckleymania, I thought something a little lighter might be in order…

The floor is open. Great song lyrics, and I will start with the Buckleymeister himself -

Lover, You Should’ve Come Over

A kingdom for a kiss upon my shoulder

And follow with another fellow teenage favourite of mine, The Lemonheads -

Alison’s Starting to Happen

She’s the puzzle piece behind the couch that makes the sky complete

That last one someone else brought to my attention, but I thought I would add it anyway. There’s hundreds more, come on folks, pick your brains… And I’ve just had a great idea for another music inspired vox populi, as inspired by the honourable Cat.

Popularity: 43% [?]

Ah, Jeff Buckley. Tragic troubadour of troubled youth, dies again next Monday. The release of The Grace Lecagy Edition on the 23rd of August brings to mind my days as a hormonal teenager, desperately trying to learn how to play his songs on the guitar, and spending hours on Napster (on a 56k connection) attempting to squeeze every single bootleg I could possibly lay my hands out of my fellow mourners.

Grace, the album, as it is, and as it was released in 1994, is so close to perfection in many ways. A string of almost half-finished sounding original pieces, tied together with some well picked, but obscure, cover versions, giving Grace a unique appeal. Indeed, listening to some of the live recordings I have of Jeff Buckley, you can tell that the album as it exists is but a mere starting point to what he wanted to achieve. His dissatisfaction, and displeasure with the release of this album is well-documented. Wrangles with Colombia music, the need for more time, and need for perfection were in his mind at the time of release. The fact that the majority of what made up his second posthumous album, Sketches for my Sweetheart the Drunk, was ready to be consigned to the scrapheap compounds the notion that it was never meant to be released.

Anyone who wants a swift relay of the issues surrounding the release of Sketches would be advised to read the well-researched biography of Buckley and his father Dream Brother by David Brown. The displeasure of Buckley’s temporarily estranged bandmates at the time of release is documented, alongside his also temporarily estranged mother’s insistence at the release going ahead. Mary Guibert (Jeff’s mother and sole executor of his estate) has fought hard to preserve Jeff’s memory in the way she believes he would have wanted to be remembered. Guibert was alongside Metallica and Eminem at the time of the first Napster court orders which banned certain search strings, trying desperately hard to stem the flow of badly recorded bootlegs that were floating about on the network.

I personally, even before starting to get a view of the issues surrounding the release of Sketches, felt uncomfortable by the album. It seemed so categorically different to Grace, despite feeling drawn to the new material, it felt wrong. Surely Jeff’s well-documented insistent perfectionism would have never allowed these tracks to be heard publicly. And so, when Mystery White Boy was announced in 2000, I felt a little better. A live performance album, with a couple of unreleased tracks, would surely be a more fitting tribute, then the, at times, painfully tacked together sound of Sketches.

At this time I was a subscriber and regular reader of the Jeff Buckley International Newsletter (put together by Guibert and Michael Tighe - Jeff’s guitarist). When news of the album arrived through this publication Guibert swore this album was to signify laying the ghost to rest. I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that anymore releases of half-written songs and badly recorded demos or live tracks would almost constitute something close to grave-robbing. Mystery White Boy was here, a new way to hear the songs I knew line for line. I was happy.

That was until the next year, 2001. Along comes the announcement of the release of Live a L’Olympia. At this point my subsciption to the Jeff Buckley International Newsletter ends. I start to get wary of the estate’s intentions. In 2000, we were told no more, and in 2001 there was more, Guibert claiming she was pushed into this because of the incessant downloading of poor quality tracks that was still taking place across the internet. So another live album, it’s good, maybe forgivable.

My interest in the Buckley phenomena waned. But everytime I dusted down my CDs I could never resist having a quick listen of what I would term auditory porn. Distilled forever, locked in time, Grace, is the album I go back to, listen to, just a glimpse of what may have been and what never was.

Recently, whilst trawling the music press’ websites I came upon some sketchy details for a Grace Legacy Edition CD. Not being imminent in release I didn’t really look into the details. Until today, that is. The other half was looking at the iTunes Music Store, when he brought to my attention the big banner stating a new unreleased Jeff Buckley track. I looked over to find out it was none other than the song Forget Her. A much sought after and widely available track for Buckley aficionados. It was replaced, at the last minute, with So Real at the time of Grace’s release. Buckley apparently insisted he never wanted the track to be heard, despite the fact the song has “big hit” all over it like a neon sign. More instantly accessible than the other tracks on Grace, his record label could smell the money in this song. So now ten years after Grace it appears Columbia have decided to rake over Buckley’s bones one more time. Written in the wake of an acrimonious break up Buckley didn’t want to share the sentiments in this song with millions of people. However, now it seems it’s fair game. The song is currently available as a preview to the main album re-release on the iTunes Music Store. I am sure I have read Guibert saying in interviews that this track would never be released. But sure enough, as of next Monday profits from the re-release will be lining Columbia Records’ and Guibert’s designer pockets.

Now an admission. I am, or at least was, just as bad as the Columbia and the executors of Buckley’s estate. I have and have had for some time two different copies of the above track hiding on an old CDR somewhere, as I have copies of many badly recorded covers Buckley performed on various tours. I have his Meltdown Festival 1994 set, his set at his father’s memorial at St Ann’s in New York. I have had for a long time all the much touted previously unreleased tracks that have appeared on the various live albums and re-released singles that have cropped up since Buckley’s untimely death. Surely, myself and the other fans who have at one time or another maniacally collected these masterpieces are to blame. I feel bad, I do. But then again, all the stuff I have has lousy sound quality, it’s like listening to only a snatch of the song. There is a sort of ghoulish voyeurism that surrounds the idea of collecting fragments of the life of a dead person. I don’t remember how I acquired all the tracks, but I have them, I must have been some sort of sick freak to want them at some point in time. I never put a penny towards buying these tracks. Despite the fact that it was a painstaking process five years ago, it’s relatively easy now to acquire rarities. I still feel that they aren’t necessarily in the public domain. All the late night Napster sessions of my youth seemed, in some silly way, to account towards payment for the music I was acquiring. A daft, unrealistic, sentimental notion.

Am I curious? Of course. I did spend years in awe of Jeff Buckley, trying to glimpse just a little bit further by listening to scratchy recording of covers he performed on tour. Every time I got something new it was like opening a fresh box of chocolates. But for me, that ended a long time ago. I can agree with the release of the live albums, they complement Grace well. The difference between the live sound and studio sound in all of Buckley’s recordings is tangible, hence why I believe Grace can never be considered complete. I know I’ll want to own the Grace Legacy Edition. But I don’t know if I can. That scratchy live copy of Forget Her really is the only one I want to hear. I can’t agree with the release of a song that was explicitly never meant to be sold. It would appear that for now at least, for Jeff, it really is never over.

Popularity: 30% [?]

Life has changed rather rapidly in the last week for me, so I thought I would have a chat about it with the readers (all five of you) of this fine website.

I started a new job on Monday. 9.30-5.30, in Greenwich, small company, that hires out music and musicians for weddings and other assorted random events. It’s kind of tedious at times, but it’s also fun at times. There are so many things to learn and I’m having trouble remembering where everything is filed, where everything is stored on the computers and all the questions you have to ask people when they ring up. I am sure I’ll get my head round this at some point. But it is terrifying, I finally have responsabilities, I’m bound to make a whole raft load of mistakes, but ultimately I’m going to have to take the blame for all of them. Zoiks!

Then Wednesday comes, frantic text-messaging ensues amongst my group of college friends - they decide to post our exam results early! So, at 5.30 I step onto the bus back to New Cross, and sit nervously in Deptford traffic, envisaging scenes of panic around the boards, and a sense of dread wells up as I imagine not being able to find my number.

There was no one by the boards when I arrived and, despite the lack of crowding, it did take me at least five minutes to find the list of music graduates. Scanning down the list, I eventually found my number in a very pleasing position, and then checked it against my student card at least ten times before it finally sinking in. I had graduated.

Friday brought another change. I left my previous job, a moderately well-paid evening and weekends type thing in one of this cities’ great musical venues. If you made a mistake, you could blame a thousand other people, anyone but yourself. A kind of comfortable, but at times an intenslty uninteresting and unchanging type of comfortable. The evening went slowly and I was due to finish after the interval (and of course head straight to the pub for last night drinking). I asked my manager if it would be possible, since I was leaving, to sneak in at the back and just listen one last time. Better than that, she told me to leave ten minutes before the interval and then grab a ticket and sit in a prime spot in the building. I was amazed. But truly thankful. So I sat and watched, not moving for an hour and a half, entranced, slightly sad, absorbing every last drop.

I never thought I would miss the place, and I don’t think I will. The job essentially entailed being abused by members of the public, mixed in with the occassional friendlier faces. I won’t miss that. But seeing fantastic productions and hearing fanstatic music, as a regular part of your job is something that I am loathed to leave. People too I suppose, I have made some good friends there, and they’ll be missed. I know there will be some of them that I’ll still see from time to time, which will be good.

A week for moving on. I feel like I’ve left school again, or something, faces you’ll never see again dissapear, the bleak smell of most of the classrooms will never be there, and the safeness and security is all gone. Instead, I’ve just left university and started life - something which needn’t be frightening and is simply exciting.

Popularity: 25% [?]

There’s lots of Mercedes cars parked outside the flat today - dunno why, but now I’ve got that stoopid BigBrovaz song stuck in my head and decided to compose my own little ditty, sing along at will…

Buy me ipods and laptops with nice apple logos,
Maybe an isight, an imic, and protools,
An aluminum G5 with dual processing,
Those are a few of my favourite things…

It works, as long as you can excuse the dire American pronounciation of aluminium…

Popularity: 21% [?]