Earache

Rough Gem

Swineshead — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 16:22:54 +0000

This song makes me jump about like an idiot. There’s a point towards the end, a musical segment, where it goes completely mental. That’s the best bit.

If you’re into this sort of thing, dangerously addictive. If you’re not, probably the most annoying thing you’ve heard all week.

Agatha

Swineshead — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 20:25:21 +0000

As David Geffen rolled in the cash after the great grunge swindle, Sub Pop’s entire catalogue was suddenly taken seriously and bands we’d never have heard of entered the indie charts. Pond were one of them and I liked them enough to order the cassette version of their album. Cassettes were ace.

No idea why the singer wears a crown. I liked this song because it reminded me of a dare I was sent on when I was a youngster – made to invade an old lady’s overgrown garden and look through her window. I think I shat my pants that day. Coincidence?

You Go On Ahead

Swineshead — Sat, 05 Jul 2008 17:35:38 +0000

Sunset Rubdown are the side project of Spencer Krug of Wolf Parade. Shorn of Wolf Parade’s Springsteen stylings, Krug’s allowed to go all baroque and mental. As far as I’m concerned, his music is the best thing going and he’s a real one-off. This is them playing an unreleased song.

In a cab, for some reason. Further research suggests it’s called You Go On Ahead.

Weird Science

Swineshead — Sat, 05 Jul 2008 16:51:30 +0000

Long-forgotten 80s band Oingo Boingo with probably the best film soundtrack in the history of everything. Weird Science, forgetting all ‘I love the 80s irony’, is still a brilliantly flawed movie,

Plus the video features that bit with Kelly LeBrock in her gym kit glory-shot. Phwoar and, indeed, blimey!

Girl At The Bus Stop

Swineshead — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 11:33:56 +0000

Before Youtube existed and long before the word ‘torrent’ was redefined, us music-fans would have to rely on John Peel, Steve Lamacq and Mark Goodier (yes – Mark Goodier) to play songs on the radio that we might, on the offchance, half like.

Then there was the indie chart which was on monthly rotation on ITV’s The Chart Show – Saturday lunchtimes. I think that’s where I first heard this song. Well – five seconds of it before they played the number one. I bought the single on the strength of that, then subsequently lost it, or sold it, or something.

It was a double edged sword, watching The Chart Show’s Indie Chart. You were forced to buy albums based on a snippet. Either crushing disappointment or a lovely surprise would greet you when you got home from the record shop and found your purchase (which you’d travelled 20 miles on a train to get) was either an instant classic or, on the other hand, not what you expected at all.

Peaches En Regalia

Swineshead — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 10:53:11 +0000

In your mid teens you tend to look for music that nobody else is aware of. It instils that feeling of individuality teenagers seem to spend all their days searching for, blissfully unaware of the fact that every other person of the same age is seeking out equally diverse music. Living in a rural hinterland, my Dad’s record collection offered several Zappa albums – and Hot Rats was always my favourite.

Not wanting to sound too muso, but the arrangement on this song can do incredible things to the ears of a stoned teenager. At points it’s as if four different songs in the same key are playing at once. It is actual genius.

Regina

Swineshead — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 07:56:47 +0000

Quite out of character, Napoleon recommended the Sugarcubes long, long ago. It was before they hit the big time with Hit and long before Bjork was a successful artist in her own right.

I remember sticking this on and being extremely confused by the strange berk who does the weird rapping, then deciding I quite liked it. Must’ve been about eleven years of age.

Marjory Razor Blade

Swineshead — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 08:14:54 +0000

When my brother was very small my Dad used to scare him using this tune. The album version is much more abrasive and has power to scare children until they’re marked forever.

My brother’s account of what happened:

When I was around 10 years old, I walked into the living room where a truly terrifying object was sitting. My brother had recently decided that he would master the art of ventriloquism and had bought a second hand doll. I suffered from a long-standing fear of dolls in general and ventriloquist ones particularly put the heebeejeebees up me. His name was Ginger George and he was hideous. One of his eyes had popped out once and my brother had hastily refitted it upside down, resulting in an even more grotesque look. I walked up to George in order to try to overcome my fear (it’s just a stupid doll). When I was about two feet away from him and was reaching out to prod him, there was a horrific screeching that filled the room as a record that my Dad was taping kicked in. It was a song by Kevin Coyne and begins with a croaky high pitched scream of the words “Marjory Razor Blade!”, the name of the song. If anyone can find a sample of this on the web and imagine me standing alone in a room confronting my deepest fears, then you will appreciate the full terrying effect that this moment has had on me.

The rest of the album is far more pleasant, but never play the opening song to a small child.

Black Beauty

Swineshead — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 09:13:59 +0000

Sullied latterly by the main character championing it for laughs on I’m Alan Partridge, the theme tune to Black Beauty is a rousing thing of superior beauty.

When I was a lad, my brother and I would pull our jerseys down over our knees when the first chord struck up and then bounce around the living room as this rolling theme tune inspired insanity. Glorious.

The programme itself was unwatchable rubbish.

Snoopy Versus the Red Baron

Swineshead — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 14:53:58 +0000

When you’re a little nipper you have no concept of cool. If a tune makes you run around the front room with your arms out, pretending to be a fighter pilot then it gets a thumbs up and the 7″ will be played until either the stylus snaps or the grooves run thin. This then, is such a song.

It’s the soundtrack to my earliest memory. Well – to tell the truth my second earliest memory – the first one was getting hit by a car in the fens aged two or three. The soundtrack to that would probably be a bit more upsetting than this glorious piece of bubblegum pop.