What major work of Alban Berg are you?

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You are Berg's ridiculously complicated Chamber
Concerto. No one will ever figure you out and
when they do, it probably won't be right. (I am the enigma! nobody knows me! Ha!)


What major work of Alban Berg are you!?!?!
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Anti-Hale

I had these in Rome.

Richard Herring (apologies for the length but that's what makes Herring so darn funny):

If I have learned one thing from travelling across Italy by train (and I have only learned one thing) it is this. When it comes to Hale and Pace, the Italian people vastly prefer Pace. Their attitude to Hale is ambivalent at best and I suspect that it is actively hostile.

The reason I can be sure of this is because I have seen, hanging from the balconies or windows of many ordinary Italian homes, the same multi-coloured, rainbow flag emblazoned simply with the words “Pace”. And yet I have not seen a single, solitary sign proclaiming support for Pace’s erstwhile partner in crime, Hale. I haven’t seen any flags that are bold enough to be anti-Hale (“Non Hale” would be my limited guess at how that might be expressed in Italian or possibly “Hale e merda”), but in many ways to ignore him completely is more effective an insult than to actually state indifference.

I must say that I was surprised to find out that the Italians held any such views.

Firstly, I did not realise that the work of the disappointing 1980s double act had reached this far across Europe. I am sure that their clever satire upon the stupidity of bouncers, or their mockery of the chirpiness of children’s TV presenters or… any of the other things that they did, would translate into another language, but I just hadn’t realised this had happened.

Secondly, if the Italians liked the work of Pace, you would imagine they would like Hale as well. The team were very much a double act, but not one with a definite straight man or funny man. So whilst one could understand why someone might like Morecambe and not appreciate Wise (stupidly in my opinion. Wise, despite being the ostensible straight man, was essential to the act and Morecambe on his own would not have worked), or applaud Herring whilst dismissing Lee (in this case a wise decision. Lee clearly held Herring back, as I think history has proved. What, if anything has Lee achieved in the last four years? Nothing. Whilst Herring has written a book about cocks. QED), to watch Hale and Pace and decide that you liked the humour of one of them, but not the other, seems a strange decision to come to. And whilst I can at least admit that it would be possible to have a slight preference as to which one was the funniest, to go as far as putting up a flag to one and ignoring the other seems eccentric at best.

Thirdly I find it quite astonishing that any Italian would be able to differentiate which one was Hale and which one was Pace anyway. It is something I feel that most British people could not do, despite having been exposed to the mindless and childish humour of the ex-teacher duo for the last twenty years. I always think that Hale and Pace could have avoided this confusion by, instead of calling themselves Hale and Pace as they apparently chose to, choosing to be known as Moustache and Not Moustache. Immediately any confusion over identity would have been solved. “Which one’s Moustache again?”

“He’s the one with the Moustache.”

“Oh right, so Not Moustache…..?”

“By a process of elimination is the one without the moustache.”

“Yeah, I get it. There’s a kind of clue in the names isn’t there?”

I think, though, if Hale and Pace had called themselves Moustache and Not Moustache this would have made most of their routines turgid and embarrassing and long winded and shit.

I think it was a good idea for one of them to grow a moustache, so that people were able to at least differentiate between them, even if they weren’t sure which one was Hale and which one was Pace. They could identify them to friends as either, “The One with the Moustache” or alternatively, “The One without the Moustache” or for simplicity’s sake “Moustache and Not Moustache”.

The fourth reason that the Italian support for Pace at the expense of Hale made me pause for thought was that as an expert in comedy I am fairly sure that Pace is the one without the moustache. Or Not Moustache as he is commonly known. So it is weird that the Italians should like him best, because I believe that it is generally acknowledged, even by the people who like Hale and Pace, that the one with the moustache is the talented member of the act. Whilst Not Moustache is being carried a bit. Moustache (Hale) can do a few different characters, has a modicum of comic timing, is good at pulling slightly cheeky faces and corpsing in an attempt to make the audience go with an otherwise quite pedestrian comic idea. Plus he also has a moustache. Which is funnier than not having a moustache.

Pace, on the other hand, looks a bit like a teacher who thought he was funny at the end of the year and used to get up and do a turn which involved miming to a Status Quo record whilst wearing a funny wig. He looks like that, because that is essentially what he is. And unlike all the other teachers who were like that he didn’t have the common decency to restrict his appearances to once a year in front of just his school. He decided we should all have to see them. And on top of all that he doesn’t even have a moustache.

So what is it about the Italian mentality that not only finds Hale and Pace amusing, is able to identify which one is Hale and which one is Pace (without the complicated and long winded moustache method) and then perversely decides that they prefer the untalented Pace to the comparatively slightly talented Hale? Not only that, but they feel it’s such an important issue to warrant the display of incongruously colourful flags. What’s wrong with these people? Aren’t there more important things to argue about?

Don’t they know there are bloody wars going on?

Speaking of which, today's Observer has an excellent account of the Grapple in the Apple and Hitchens has an article in the Telegraph. (courtesy: Harry's Place)

Listening to:

Papa M: Hole of Burning Alms

Some pieces, such as the dusty plains rock of "Wedding Song No. 3", electro bleep and flute soundscape "Mountains Have Ears" and the eerie lo-fi folk of "She Said Yes" are strangely beguiling. Others, such as "Up North Kids No. 2", with its wibbly-wobbly banjos, and club track "Travels in Constants", with its squelchy techno belching, are just strange. Throughout though, the twists and turns from M to Papa M are never less than intriguing. And if nothing else, Hole of Burning Alms asserts that whatever he's called himself, thick atmospheres and sonic adventure have always been the Louisville plodder's calling card.

Dial: Revenge

Have just received my free copy of Tonic magazine. Designed to promote Scwheppes, it was publicised in last saturday's Guardian and there was an excerpt in the next day's Observer. I can't tell whether it's a one-off magazine or whether it will be available in the futire. Anthony Bourdain graces the cover. His article can be read here. He discussed his favourite places to go in Manhattan for food and drink. It's hilarious as you might expect:

I'm a New Yorker, so it should come as no surprise that I think my city is the greatest in the world. I like living in the city where so many of my favourite films take place, where nearly every street corner reminds me of some piece of lurid personal or criminal history. 'Crazy Joe Gallo was shot here... Big Paul Castellano whacked there... Used to score there... That place used to be a speakeasy... My old methadone clinic... That used to be an after-hours club...' It may not be the most beautiful city. It's certainly not the nicest city (though it is, sadly, getting nicer). And it's certainly not the easiest city to live in. One minute you're on top of the world, the next - when you wish to light up a smoke at the bar and can't, for instance - you're wallowing in abject misery and self-pity, unable to decide between murder and suicide. But it is exactly those famously manic highs and low lows that make New York like nowhere else. I mean, you can talk London, or Paris, or Barcelona all you like but we're open all night. I can pick up the phone around midnight and get just about anything I want - Chinese food, Lebanese, sushi, pizza, a video, a bag of seedless hydro or a human head - delivered to my apartment in about 25 minutes. Didn't I say we were the greatest?

Sneer at hot dogs all you want but a well-made wiener is a thing of beauty. Actually, even a crap hot dog can be a beautiful thing if you're eating it at Yankee Stadium washed down with warm, watery beer (and if the Yanks are winning). I'll go so far as to say that you will never understand New York, or New Yorkers, until you've eaten too many bad hot dogs and drunk too much piss beer at a night game at the stadium. Similarly, Rudy's Bar and Grill on 9th Avenue serves crap hot dogs too. Free ones. But ambiance counts for a lot and, after a lot of mid-afternoon drinks (never go at night) listening to the magnificent jukebox, watching the daytime drinkers slump over onto the bar, those light-bulb-warmed weenies suddenly seem like a good idea. If you actually want a quality dog, the best is at Papaya King on East 86th Street. Be sure to enjoy it with a frothy delicious papaya drink - and if you put ketchup on your dog I will fucking kill you.

Unbelievably, the magazine features Mechu and Apres in its guide to the best bars in Britain. Equally unbelievable is that both of the above subjects were mentioned recently in this post. Ok, maybe it's not that unbelievable...

Take a look at the Million Dollar Homepage. This guy, a student from Wiltshire, has created a site where you can pay for pixels to advertise your site/product or whatever. There are a million pixels and obviously, if he sells them all, he will be a millionaire. He came up with the idea in order to make some money to fund his studies. Looks like he'll do more than that. His blog is great; the surprise at the success of his idea is really funny and he's getting a little overwhelmed by it all. What an idea...

Listening to:

Bob Dylan: Desire

Mogwai: Rock Action

Rock Action incorporates bristling distortion, propulsive drums, and electronic textures similar to Tortoise's Standards -- particularly on the opening track "Sine Wave" -- but the album's most remarkable moments revisit and reinvent more traditional sounds. Buoyed by lush string arrangements and Fridmann's detailed, warm production, the brooding ballads "Take Me Somewhere Nice" and "Dial: Revenge" couldn't be further from "rock action," but they display the album's refreshing restraint and immediacy. In particular, "Dial: Revenge" -- so named because "dial" is the Welsh word for "revenge" -- benefits from Rhys' emotive yet cryptic vocals in his mother tongue, but the general emphasis on vocals adds to the album's organic, emotive feel. Nowhere is this more evident than the nine-minute epic "2 Rights Make One Wrong": With its lush layers of brass, strings, banjo, guitars, and vocals, it sounds like the rock-oriented cousin of Jim O'Rourke's pocket symphonies.

Mogwai: Happy Songs For Happy People

Indeed, more than any other Mogwai work, sheer bliss appears to be this album's singular aim: even the amp-busting crescendo of "Ratts of the Capital" matches its dark metal pomp with chiming orchestra bells and starburst lead-guitar lines. No sudden banjo interludes or no guest vocals jar with the album's slow passage towards its conclusion

Frank Sinatra and the Count Basie Orchestra: Live at the Sands

Peaches: Fatherfucker

By continuing along her own path she shows the world she is not just a novelty act; and with an album that's as energetic, uncompromising and as galvanising as its predecessor, anyone thinking she was going to clean up her act to appease detractors needs to think again. The album unfolds in punchy bursts of home-cooked computer beats (from hip-hop to electro to dancehall), raw power chords and sneering attitude, with Iggy Pop and Taylor Savvy on board to help out. It's the candour and energy that Peaches invests in her music that moves it clear away from cliché

I Got It Bad And That Ain't Good...

Mr Geras has been listening to similar things to me it seems...

Read the post as it has a link to a piece by the ever-multifarious Richard Williams whose book Long Distance Call is superb. It's a collection of his articles on music, featuring Mingus, Chet Baker, Muddy Waters, Smokey Robinson, Gladys Knight....

The Black Saint and the Lady Sinner

Go here or here for an account of Christopher Hitchens' debate with George Galloway. Looks like Hitch did well by all accounts. He would be disappointed not to win this debate but apparently appeared surprised with the applause with which his comments were greeted... (courtesy Harry's Place) :

He turns up in Damascus! The man's search for a tyrannical fatherland never ends! The Soviet Union's let him down! Albania's gone. The Red Army is out of Hungary and Czechoslovakia. The hunt persists! Saddam has been overthrown and his criminal connections with him have been exposed! But onto the next! [...] To tell the Syrian people they are fortunate to have such a leader. The slobbering Dauphin who they've got, because he was the son of the slobbering tyrant who came before him! How anyone with a tincture of socialist principle can actually speak like this is beyond me and I hope far beyond you and beneath your contempt. Thank you. (Applause)

(Courtesy Matt C @ Saving the world)

Apologies for lack of posts. Been rehearsing for gigs in Manchester, Birmingham, Wolverhampton, Leamington with my old band. Bring on the analogue synth through chorus and distortion pedals (my favourite)....

listening to:

Ahmad Jamal: Cross Country Tour (1958-61)
Mingus: The Black Saint and the Lady Sinner:

a masterpiece of sounds and textures, from the astonishing vocal effects of the plunger-muted trumpets and trombone (seeming to speak messages just beyond the range of understanding) to the soaring romantic alto of Charlie Mariano. Boiling beneath it all are the teeming, congested rhythms of Mingus and drummer Dannie Richmond and the deep morass of tuba and baritone saxophone. This is one of the greatest works in jazz composition, and it's remarkable that Mingus dredged this much emotional power from a group of just 11 musicians

Lady in Satin, Footprints and White Noise

Alex Chilton was missing in New Orleans at the start of the week, but I've just seen this story stating that he's safe. He was apparently last seen in the French Quarter of New Orleans when his name was put on the missing persons website. Big Star were due to release their first new album since the 1970s later this month, I think...

MC Donny OD is no longer a member of Christian Silva. I'm pleased if only for selfish reasons: I want to hook up with him in London and do some stuff together. He was better than the band and he should be a creative force within any ensemble (he was thwarted to a large extent in Silva).

I got a call from my old band, Black Mountain Tapes, in the week with a proposition to play keyboards with them again. Keep you posted...

Easily the saddest record ever: Billie Holiday's Lady in Satin. Her voice ravished by drink and drugs and heartache, she pours her scratchy, weeping voice into Ray Ellis' lush orchestrations. The opening sequence of I'm A Fool To Want You, For Heaven's Sake, You Don't Know What Love Is, I Get Along Without You Very Well and For All We Know just tears you apart.

I was listening to Wayne Shorter's Adam's Apple and thinking of the title track and how 80s Acid Jazz it was. It's surprising that there isn't a big-beat version of it, as far as I know. It would be a massive hit. It's a really under-rated album and has 'Footprints' on it, later to be recorded by Miles. Spoke to T (who turned 27 today) last night and he's just bought one of Shorter's recent albums. How strange...

The Wire is sponsoring an event at the Serpentine Gallery. It looks beautiful. As does the latest architectural commission.

Missed out on tickets for All Tomorrow's Parties which I can't afford to be honest. Every line-up is unique so it's gutting to miss. Jaga Jazzist are playing and here's a review at a great Scotland-based site called White Noise.

Feel the fusion wrath!

I've been watching The Mighty Boosh on the net. The series is online at the BBC(3) for one more week. I remember seeing Noel Fielding on a Channel 4 stand-up show called Gas back in what must have been around 1997/8. I think he was doing his Arctic Boosh show at the time. Julian Barratt was in Chris Morris' Nathan Barley recently (Fielding also briefly appeared). I probably can't do the show justice here, but here are some highlights:

There's a flashback sequence where the Bongo Brothers (Rudy Van Disarzio and Spider Dijon) go to the desert to search for a 'new sound'. At one stage Rudy is offended by Spider, points his guitar at him and asks him to: "feel the power of my fusion licks!". They discuss how embarrasing it is to be under the shadow of Carlos Santana and how they were unlucky to have to be asked to clean up after Woodstock (for six days), saying that the Who would never stay afterwards to clean up. They eventually find the new sound thanks to their battle with the obsolete Betamax format. As the credits run, Roger Daltrey comes along with a hoover. Seriously.

Various other episodes mention a potion that mixes Mozart's tears and the urine of Mark Knopfler, there's confusion between the occult and Yakult, dropping some Weather Report into a DJ set to 'blow their minds', modal jazz and the use of the flat 9th chord. There's even mention of George Clinton, P-Funk, Parliament, Funkadelic and Bootsy Collins.

There's an interview with them on the BBC site. Fielding talks about what a nice guy Chris Morris is. Apparently he attends a ton of gigs in London and has an encyclopedic knowledge of popular culture. Fielding went to a Peaches gig with him. Morris was a little underwhelmed and left, just before Peaches covered herself in blood and threw herself into the stage, where Fielding caught her and was pictured in Mojo doing so. Morris was a little perturbed by this. If you go here you can see the music credits on Nathan Barley. There's some great stuff on there from Prefuse 73 to Public Enemy, from Lee Hazlewood to Gang of Four, from Clinic to Boards of Canada.

Speaking of modal jazz and flat 9th chords, I've been listening to:

Bill Evans: Interplay and New Jazz Conceptions ( I love the titles of the classic jazz era: I Got It Bad And That Ain't Good, No Cover No Minimum and You and the night and the music)

Also listening to Choral Evensong on BBC Radio 3. I love the sound of unaccompanied choral music. The history of the form and the ethereal qualities make it sound so special. If you listen carefully it touches your heart in a way that other music can't seem to do...