I used to complain about faux-nostalgia, but in the wake of Brother’s bone-headed elevation to the status of National Importance, I’ll now take good songs wherever I can find them, while I still can, regardless of how much they borrow from the past.

Iggy Pop goes jazz. Well almost. He was deeply impresed by French author Michel Houellebecq’s 2005 novel The Possibility of an Island which is about death, sex and the end of the human race. Whe he was contacted to supply songs fro a documentary about the writer he set himself to work, listening to a lot of old time New Orleans-era, Louis Armstrong, Jelly Roll Morton type of jazz.
PARSLEY’S COMMLOCK
Obituary News: Patrick McGoohan, Sir John Mortimer QC
Patrick McGoohan, who died this week, was a captivating actor, who initially came to fame with the title role in Ibsen’s Brand, but then achieved public notoriety in the sixties, starring in the spy drama ‘Danger Man’ (‘Secret Agent Man’ in the USA). Reflecting McGoohan’s personal moral code he was the spy that never carried a gun, nor was he seen kissing.
2008 was a shit year for music.
With the economy falling down around us, the music industry continued to crumble under the pressure of the internet…falling down, down, down and barely even pulling in a cent (or so they would like you to believe). Bands inspired by the few cash cows we have left aped and copied their way through records. Folks were led to believe that a band like Fleet Foxes made a better, more lasting impression with their record then say someone like Deerhunter did.
All of Pinter’s christmases came at once, possibly, in 2008. He couldn’t have left us on a more fitting day. Early January 2009 seems far less fitting for a founding member of The Stooges, but alas, so it has come to be for Number 29 on Rolling Stone’s ‘100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time.’

On February 1, 1995, Richey Edwards checked out of the London hotel he was staying at with James Dean Bradfield and effectively disappeared. Two weeks later, Edwards’ Vauxhall Cavalier was found abandoned at the Severn View service station, but his body has never been discovered. It’s a story that’s taken on mythological status, not only among Manics fans, but among music fans in general. Is it because he just vanished? Or because of his self-conscious genius and brilliant creation of the Manics’ ethos? Or because he’s yet another tale of tragic self-destruction? I think it’s a potent combination of all three that elevates him into such a rock star status. Apparently, rock ‘n roll is, at its core, a risky lifestyle of testing limits both physically and mentally while pushing creative boundaries at the same time. At least that’s the conclusion I come to after reading The Dark Stuff, a book that collects several of Nick Kent’s pieces on specific musicians, who are generally considered self-destructive geniuses.
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