On a much lighter note

Have a look at the pork pie and Cox's action in this otherwise badly-directed video. I also love Adamson's dad dancing near the end and the fact that the director thought it'd be a great idea to edit Bruce Watson into the video at a moment he was looking down at his guitar. Mark Unpronouncablenamefrombigcountry's drum kit was also obviously too big to fit in that tunnel as well. And why the falling over near the start?
In fact, is this video a case of so-bad-it's-brilliant?

April fool

Well, not much to report here. You'll have to get used to more sporadic blog posts as I don't enjoy all the internet access that I used to, and an immediate family member is going through a pretty major health scare at the minute.

Anyroad, have you seen - the incorrectly-titled - Chris Moyles' Quiz Night? If you haven't, then don't. A bigger dog's breakfast of an 'entertainment' show I've yet to see. I've nothing against ugly people on the telly, but I am against ugly cretins on the telly.
What I have been enjoying on the telly though are I've Never Seen Star Wars (and in Fawlty Towers and Dark Side of the Moon, Rory McGrath picked two things I'm a bit of an expert on), Genius (even though I've never previously had much time for Dave Gorman). I've also been watching - the incorrectly-titled - Monty Halls' Great Escape. If you've not seen it, and I don't think any of you will have done, it's about a rather enthusiastic bloke who chucks in his life for six months and goes to live in a crofter's bothy on the west coast of Scotland. Very idyllic. I reckon I could manage that, I don't mind my own company and as long as I had my iPod and stack of decent books I'd be in my element. Besides, the local village, Applecross, seems to have a ready supply of buxom, red-cheeked women who were all clamouring for his attention. I found that he was rather in love with his dog though, which was a worry.

I've finished Stuart Maconie's new book. For a travel book it left me oddly not wanting to visit many of the places in it. I suppose that's because I come from a smallish town in 'Middle England' and that's, er, what it's about. When you come from somewhere like this you tend to reach out either for the anonymity of the urban sprawl or, being British, for the taste of fish and chips on the seafront. He bigged-up Bath and Leamington Spa, two places I've been to myself and enjoyed immensely. He's cock on about Grantham though. I worked there for four years, and it's a really strange place (about a half mile down the same road as Thatcher's birthplace sits on, which was his reason for going). It's as though someone built a town in the middle of a bypass.
He goes to Cambridge, which is somewhere I've never been and always wanted to go to. I love Pink Floyd and want to go and immerse myself in the fabled Grantchester Meadows. There's a lovely Floyd promo film for the song Scarecrow, which features Syd Barrett and co frolicking on the Meadows. The colours are gorgeous. I might do that over the Easter break, go to Cambridge, it's not much more than an hour's drive from here.

I've also been dabbling in Spotify. I wanted to listen to a new album by a band called The Decemberists, and Spotify gave me it right there and then (I can highly recommend the album, by the way, if concept albums about infanticide and burying the bodies in enchanted woods is your thang). The other day I fancied listening to Deep Purple's Fireball, instead of rummaging around looking for the CD I just pulled up Spotify and set Fireball playing. Will it spell the end for purchased music? Not in my world, I like the feeling of ownership.

I watched Quantum of Solace on DVD last week, someone lent me it. Oh dear. I have to say I thought it was terrible. I couldn't really follow what was going on. It just seemed to be a load of action sequences stitched together with the faintest whiff of a story. There were no laughs, no Q, no Miss Moneypenny, no gadgets. The only light relief came with Gemma Arterton's character Strawberry Fields. That's right, they're naming Bond girls after Beatles' landmarks. What next? Penny Lane? Abi Rhode? And why can Bond seemingly control any vehicle? He was a master in a speedboat, a car, a commandeered motorcycle and a WWII DC3 aircraft.

As I was a Twitter denier, I've gone over to the dark side and joined. I knew it was a mistake the minute I did it and tried to delete my account. It wouldn't let me, "Twitter is stressed at this moment and can't perform that function." I've tried deleting it since and it won't let me. So I'm stuck with it. Why do they treat you like an imbecile? "Twitter is stressed", no it isn't, it's a website, it doesn't get 'stressed'. It's like those smoothie bottles that say stuff like "We've packed thirteen pieces of fruit in here because of all the yummy goodness, and we like to make sure you get your five-a-day because mummy can't be there all the time to make sure you do". I'm not a child.
So if anyone fancies following my mundane life on Twitter, then you can go and find me.

Just a quick thing about the Radcliffe and Maconie show on the 6th of April. Andy Partridge is on it and, if his previous appearances on Radcliffe shows are anything to go by, he makes for very entertaining listening.

Anyway, must go, but here's what I've been listening to just lately:

I love late 60s Rolling Stones, it's a goldmine, Sympathy for the Devil, Gimme Shelter, Jumpin' Jack Flash, this one's my favourite though.



Love this new single. Everyone says they here Kate Bush and Goldfrapp in this, weirdly, I hear All About Eve.




This has had a few plays on R & M. It should have been Britain's entry for this year's Eurovision, unfortunately, he's Norwegian, or summat.



Oasis don't pull any trees up musically. But I love this, they can still release a decent rock single every now and again.



Also listening to something called Kardomah Cafe by a band called The Cherry Boys, which was on the radio the other day. There's no You Tube clip for that though.

"Two sisters? I've never kissed two sisters"

Tom Jones has always made my flesh creep, and here's why. Not a dry seat in the house, as Andrew Loog Oldham used to say. Nice dancing near the end though.

White winter hymnal

I've just been to a funeral. Don't worry, it was no one close, it was a neighbour. Of course when it isn't somebody you knew really well you can enjoy the proceedings a little more. Myself and another neighbour were about the youngest there after grandchildren. I suspect a lot of those who knew the deceased wondered who those two stylish blokes were. There was an order of service which informed us that there were to be two Beatles' numbers played during the arrival and departure of the coffin. I could hear a woman behind say "Well she never told me she liked The Beatles, and I've known her for eighteen years". Who doesn't like The Beatles? And it's true folks, people of the Beatles' generation are now croaking. How old does that make you feel? I imagine at my funeral people will say, as One Step Beyond blares out "I didn't know he liked this".
There was an address by a bloke who looked like the Willo the Wisp version of Kenneth Williams. The whole thing could have been written by Alan Bennett; he kept banging on about pragmatism, I've had to come home and look pragmatism up in the dictionary. I can now reveal, exclusively, that I'm a pragmatist.
And the congregation were very lacklustre in the hymn-singing. I'm most definitely not a religious man, but I was the only person putting any kind of heat under it, singing-wise. Besides, there's a line in All Things Bright and Beautiful about 'purple heads', and that always makes me stifle a laugh.

I guess funerals are pretty good at focusing the mind. I'm forty in just over two years and I've yet to see the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, the Grand Canyon or the Northern Lights. The funeral and a motivational 'seize the day' talk this week by a lady colleague I never knew cared has given me fresh impetus for 2009.

This song's been played relentlessly on my iPod this week. Radcliffe and Maconie started playing it in the summer, but it left me cold. Now we've arrived in December with its short days, sun low in the sky, frozen puddles and a general crispness in the air it all makes sense. It's definitely a winter song - creepy video too.

'Tis the season for fat bastards, tra-la-la-la la-la la la

Can you guess what that is in the picture? That's right, it's a box of fast food-shaped Christmas tree ornaments. Do you know any morbidly obese people who would like those on their tree? If so, pop along to your local Homebase store. Hurry, only while stocks last.

Sorry I haven't posted much this week, but I've been knackered and not very well; I'm getting too old for all this burning the candle at both ends mallarkey. No, on second thoughts, I'm not sorry, it's my blog and I'll post when I want to. Although I doubt anyone comes here with baited breath to read my latest pronouncements.

Anyway, here's your Friday Lazy You Tube embed. I've been trying to work out for the last 26 years whether this song is a work of genius or a load of old bollocks. See what you think.

Bright Ambassador's Googlewhack non adventure

I've found out, via the extremely hand and incredibly informative, Statcounter that I've very nearly been Googlewhacked. Some bod from Channel 4 put 'Tits McCrikey' into Google and found this blog. Unfortunately 'Tit's McCrikey' returns two results. Although the other result only returns 'McCrikey'. So it's kind of a Googlewhacking victory for me. If I or you were bothered about such fripperies of course...

In other news, I'm thinking of taking up the ukulele, anyone know where I can buy a cheap but decent one from? Thought not...

And as it's the weekend, have this on me.