Mister Mondo TeeVee

A quick note to mention that television has one more snippy reviewer in its midst. I'm terribly chuffed also that I get such a lovely introduction from the folks at Mondo.

"It’s always a nice surprise when a show with a strong following is successful year after year. Equally so, it’s a disappointment when crap television remains inexplicably in the mainstream for seasons on end.

Currently, there is no Canadian (hell, no North American) counterpart to Nevermind the Buzzcocks, about to enter its 22nd season on BBC this fall. And considering the abysmal pace at which our country’s programming drones along, I can’t imagine there ever being anything close to its equal on this side of the pond..."

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Happy (Un)Birthday, Mr Strummer

Album scan - Story of the Clash (cassette) signed, "To Carolyn, Joe Strummer" 1998

Joe Strummer (John Graham Mellor, 1952-2002) would have celebrated his 56th birthday today. It seemed prudent to mark the occasion, so I decided to unearth some of my personal Clash memorabilia from years past.

Initially, I wasn't entirely sure what to do in terms of remarks, however. There's nothing I could possibly say about the man that hasn't been scribed on a hundred other blogs, journals, and music publications over the past three decades. However, as impressive as his legacy was, there was always something even the gawky, wide-eyed (teenaged) me never failed to appreciate: He looked you right in the eye and took his sweet time chatting and signing records.

Al Kapranos is the only other musician/rock star type I can call to mind who has rivaled Strummer's consistently polite candour, but you know, he was younger and more fresh when we last crossed paths. We'll do another post in 10 years and see if he's still that cheerful, eh?

Album scan - London Calling, The Clash (cd) signed, "To Carolyn, Joe Strummer" 1999

The Centaur Company

I would have named the blog after this, had I but known. Still, we'll stick to the plain old rodeo.

Newfoundland Sound Symposium

More words, more sounds...

In the spirit of the article I wrote for artist Kristen Roos' (BC) sound installation of yesteryear, I've written an essay for Eastern Edge Gallery's portion of this year's Sound Symposium (NFLD).

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From "Brand New Ghosts" 2008:

"The basic human need to feel sound as opposed to be treated to a passive, treble-inflicted listen can be observed most often at the afternoon rush hour. Regardless of the tune, the almost unbearable levels of bass and vibration leave the passengers of these tiny mobile discos lost amidst a common yet indispensable catharsis..."

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Sex-On-The-Mediterranean-Beach

Bust out your tiny pink umbrellas, girls... It's time for some more fresh-squeezed tropical-type drinks.... A New Pineapple Review!

This one includes Lebanese car bombs, educational error, 1812, and a conversation I had with a girl from Buffalo when I was about 15-years-old. I almost devoted an entire paragraph to Amy Winehouse, but you know, I can't pull these things out of my ass. It kind of seemed apropo of nothing.

Karaoke Starpower

I'd like to make an official plea to Fumihiro Hayashi:

I'm thinking you should record an album's worth of Dylan covers. Tell me how that wouldn't work.