June 12, 2010
“Do you love anyone enough to give them your last Romo?”
Yes I’ve dusted off the scanner and once again sit scanning ephemeral pop trivia late into the night. There’s been too many requests in the intervening months for me to try and fulfil, this just caught my eye. Got love Pricey tearing Pearl to shreds, although I do quite like her Price Cube dig. Anyway…I guess this goes with this.
Oh and Andy Catlin got in touch. Go to his website to see nice pictures. http://andrewcatlin.com
March 26, 2010
Taylor Parkes reviews The Stone Roses, 9th December 1995. Photo Mark Benney.
“…and the collected non-old people of Bridlington and its surrounding villages go bananas (raisins, coconuts, sultanas)”
It’s terrible but it made me smile; and the glaring indignity of the fact that Brown has managed to carve out some sort of post-Roses career while Squire has retreated to his painting is underlined by the subsequent review.
March 16, 2010
Blur / Oasis on the cover of Melody Maker, 9th December 1995. Photo by Tom Sheehan.
So last night I saw the Blur doc, No Distance Left To Run which left me feeling a little disjointed. It’s hard to put my finger on why. I suppose, as the cliché goes, I’ve grown up with Blur. But it’s more than simple nostalgia. They’ve somehow bisected with my life in a way that no other band has and while I watched Blur’s youthful exuberance become slowly grubbied by alcohol, cynicism and (whisper it) heroin, I was repeatedly reminded of my various triumphs and failures. Mostly failures. Fuck it, it is just nostalgia isn’t it?
I was at art college in London in 1990, not Goldsmiths, but one very close by. One group of friends had come from Colchester art college and were good friends with Damon’s sister. One even ended up marrying her. It all came back last night and more.
I remember how I heard Leisure at a BBQ weeks before it was released. I remember Damon running off to get the tube after coming to our graduation show; and how shortly afterwards, Modern Life is Rubbish, ended up sound tracking my hateful commuter walk during the misery of my first full time job. I remember the lonely walks from Hackney to The Barbican on Sunday afternoons. I remember the Subterranea and how you could often find Damon puking his guts up in the toilets. I remember Britpop, the Loaded parties and the hangover that kicked in around 98 when we all suddenly realised we weren’t young anymore and had stopped talking to each other. I remember the scurrilous rumours, the friends boyfriend who’d shagged Justine and how I’ve had to leave that life behind me. I remember thinking how much they’d done and how little I’d done. I guess I felt sorry for myself.
But most of all…most of all, I remember thinking…make another fucking record.
Here’s a great recording of the pre-Blur Seymour, clips of which were shown in the doc.