Tag Archives: Selection Box

Selection Box Show 149

Hmmm, I keep saying that I am trying to catch up on playlists, but “catching up” surely requires me to provide more of these blogs than I’m recording shows. I am currently on a ratio of just about 1:1, which really won’t do if I am going to get up to date.

This week’s featured record from the show is Edwyn Collins‘ return single Losing Sleep, which was released in September and comes from the album of the same title. It would have been difficult to be overly-critical of any record at this stage by Collins – arguably best known for his work in the marvellous Orange Juice and the mid-90s hit A Girl Like You – coming as it does after a long illness. In February 2005 Collins was interviewed on BBC 6Music and complained of feeling a little unwell. Within a couple of days he was admitted to ITU at the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead, That Fancy London, with a major cerebral hemorrhage. A second hemorrhage followed soon after. The illness left him with a weakness on the right side of his brain and a devastating problem with his speech, which has resulted in a prolonged period of neurological rehabilitation. Recent radio appearances have revealed that Collins’ speech is still not yet 100%, but thankfully the ability to write great pop songs is still in evidence. Any track from Edwyn Collins after this time would have been a triumph. That the record is a triumph purely in musical terms is all the more remarkable.

Courtesy of this lovely Soundcloud player you can listen to this show again for a limited period (probably about the length of time it would take to fill an entire 2 litre bottle with spit, were you to do one flob into it every day). Sadly due to copyright and such blah the show cannot be made available as a downloadable file. Continue reading →

Selection Box 147

Gah, the desperate will to catch up on my life seems to not be sufficient to actually bridge the gap into the present.  Indeed we’re still dealing with shows from August, rather terrifyingly.

So, as suggested last time we’ll have some quick blah about a featured track and then on with the playlist.

This week I have plumped for a bit of folk in the shape of Men-An-Tol’s Black Waterside which comes from the album Through The Quoit.  I can’t claim to be anything even remotely approaching a Men-An-Tol afficiando, but I certainly know how to snaffle a free record or two when offered, so when lovely Albert Freeman offered up some unknown delights from the Static Caravan label – home of the likes of Tunng – you could bet your bottoms that I did my best to ensure that the aforementioned wares would find a permanent home in my living room.

And they did – taking a brief outing back to BCB for an appearance on Selection Box 147.  Sadly, I cannot find a video online to link to the track, but you can listen to a lovely snippet here or alternatively just listen to the track along with the rest of the show in question…

Courtesy of this lovely Soundcloud player you can listen to this show again for a limited period (probably about the length of time it would take to turn a knee entirely to dust if you rubbed it non-stop with a carpet tile). Sadly due to copyright and such blah the show cannot be made available as a downloadable file. Continue reading →

Selection Box Show 146

If time is a concept then in recent months my grasp and understanding of it appears to have faltered significantly because I don’t seem to be in possession of sufficient to do the things I need / want to do.  This has left me ludicrously behind on updating you on Selection Box playlists.

I don’t like to just pop on and bang up a list, though.  It’s a bit impersonal and I prefer to give you a bit of bread for the aural soup as it were.  But how to do this with the necessity for haste?

Well, thunked I, how’s about a paragraph or two on one of the tracks played on the show as a sort of “featured record  spot?  There’s a question mark there but it was rhetorical, as I’m going to do it anyway. Continue reading →

You Great Big Fat Burke / Selection Box Show 145

I’m starting to think that the Leeds Festival site is centred around some sort of wormhole in the space / time continuum, as the best part of two months seems to have dropped away from my life and I have barely noticed them. As a result it appears that I have found myself quite spectacularly behind when it comes to show updates and playlists, so I’ll endeavour to bridge the gap and bring these READMYBLOG posts up to date.

However, I don’t really think we should go any further before we mark the sad passing of Solomon Burke, who gone done went and karked it on a plane earlier this month whilst traveling to a series of gigs in Holland.

James Brown liked to refer to himself as The Godfather of Soul, but not only was Brown something of an over-rated fat face, he also operated on something of a misnomer. Brown’s huhs and hahs and the seeming continual need to repeat his name every four seconds in case we forgot it was more funk than soul, whereas Solomon Burke’s was a voice which tore at the heart as well as moved the feet. I make the comparison only because Burke’s early influences from church gospel mixed with rhythm & blues made him one of the true early godfathers of the Soul genre, though Burke himself liked to call himself The Godfather of Rock & Soul. Continue reading →

Leeds Festival Review: Day 3

Finally, the review is complete.  And so to bed…

That wind has got up again.  In fact, there would appear to be a tornado whipping up around my tent.  I’m going to take off like Dorothy in the wizard of Oz.  I wonder if I will land on a witch.  It really is causing a racket and there’s no way that I’ll be able to get back off to sleep now with that tent flapping about.  Oh, it’s raining now.  Goodness, it really is raining rather hard.  Perhaps the rhythm of the rain will lull me back to sleep…

Thats a map of Mordor isnt it.

That's a map of Mordor isn't it.

No, that didn’t work.  And anyway I need a wee.  The weather has been very kind to us these last few days, but I suspect that I may finally have to bite the bullet and don the wellies today.  I struggle into these and hope against hope that on this occasion I won’t be wearing them for long enough for them to stink like they did when I wore them at Glastonbury last year.  On that occasion the smell was an odd mix of styles – imagine if you would that someone decided to make a speciality cheese out of cow poo.  It would smell exactly the same as that.

Speaking of cleanliness, I notice on the way to the urine trough that the queue for the showers is not very long.  I know – showers at festival.  We get all the home comforts in the Guest Area you know.  Sadly, there’s all of four showers serving around 400 people, so thus far I’ve not bothered because I didn’t want to miss the entire festival whilst standing in a line to have a wash.  Hmmm, that line hasn’t moved at all.  What to do?  I decide to give it a whirl and see how far the queue moves in ten minutes or so.  After the ten minutes have elapsed I’m no nearer the shower, but I’m too stubborn to give up now I’ve started. Continue reading →

Leeds Festival Review: Day 2

(Yes, I know, I’m shoving this up on the blog somewhat after the event, but I’m a busy man y’know.  Better late than never…)

Bloody hell, it’s windy.  Either that or someone has got hold of the outside of my tent and is flapping it about like a Killer Whale with a half dead seal.  Maybe it’s them Spam bastards paying me back for nicking their tent pegs.  One thing is certain – the noise it is making has rendered any further sleep impossible without tranquilisers.  I dare say there’s a fair bit of Ketamine washing around the festival site, but personally I’ll give that a miss if it’s all the same to you.

Horse tranquilizers: its a race horse called Horlicks, apparently.

Horse tranquilizers: it's a race horse called Horlicks, apparently.

I am a parent now and hurtling towards middle-age, so 8am is considered an indulgent lie-in anyway, so I get up and go for breakfast – the details of which started the first blog, so we’ll skip over that.  However, before I can go to eat I am refused entry to the festival main area as no one is allowed in until 9am.  Eh, do what?  The festival closes at night?  I thought this was supposed to be a playground of non-stop revelry and no sleep ’til Brooklyn.  Now I find that everyone went to bed before me, tucked up with a cup of Horlicks (other revolting bedtime drinks are available).

It occurs to me that I’ve not really had a proper look around the whole site, so I rectify this.  There’s not a great deal around other than food stands and stalls selling t-shirts with wanky slogans, although I do spot a place which sells ale as opposed to the rather flimsy Tuborg which is the only other beer available onsite.  Sadly, further investigation later in the day reveals the ale to be rather horrid as well. Continue reading →

Leeds Festival Review: Day 1

Before me sits the remnants of a full English breakfast, served to me with piping hot hash browns to mask the fact that the rest of it was clap cold. I’ve paid £7.50 for the privilege. I’m just wondering if I’ll manage to be be able to consume my body weight in orange juice from the refillable dispenser before they tell me to shit off.  You’ve got to get your five a day somehow, but fruit & veg isn’t especially forthcoming at a festival.

I arrived here yesterday morning intent (and with tent) on having enough time to pitch my canvas Shangri-La before going to catch The Walkmenopening up the Main Stage at Noon. But for a false start where I had to return to my temporary home after being denied entry due to possession of a can of well-known stout (cans not allowed apparently – though I later noticed that the novelty of the power wielded by the “Customer Protection Office” had waned after a few hours and his bag check became somewhat less censorious) and the fact that the splendid New York noiseniks start 8 minutes early for some reason, I’d have pretty much timed it to perfection.

The Walkmen: larger than actually pictured.

The Walkmen: larger than actually pictured.

Continue reading →

Cover up / Selection Box Show 144

A different sort of Moon Delight after being Rammed.

A couple of weeks ago my best chum described me as a “Paul McCartney aficionado”, which is certainly not something I would say was true at all.  I do think he used to look like my mum, but I don’t think that counts and my mum probably wouldn’t be chuffed (although if I was told I looked like someone handsome enough to trap off with the young Jane Asher I’d probably be delighted).  I am, however, one of those few people whose answer to the query of favourite Beatle would be answered with positive messages for the unidexter-divorcing vegetarian former mullet-sporter.  Whilst I could never for a moment defend the sheer horror of the likes of Ebony & Ivory, That Fecking Frog Song With Ruperb The Bear In The Videoor even the ineffective hey-let’s-all-be-nice-to-one-another-man anti-war lamery of Pipes of Peace, McCartney seems to be largely overshadowed by the beautiful corpse of his probably-an-awful-twat-in-real-life mate and his over-bearing political conscience.  Yeah, stay in bed for peace, John, that’ll work.  Thanks for that.  You’ve been a massive help. Continue reading →

Ça n’etait pas moi: Selection Box 143

Dont worry, you can still count him on your Famous Belgians list.

Don't worry, you can still count him on your Famous Belgians list.

Last week I accidentally ruined any remaining vestiges of childhood innocence for BCB’s Tez Burke.  A man with a beard as fulsome and manly as Tez’s should probably have left Playmobil and Ker-Plunk behind a long time ago (though Lego is allowed – you can never truly tire or grow out of Lego.  God, I miss Lego.  I’m off to buy some Lego…), but I suppose William Blake would probably argue that our days of innocence are not to be dismissed in our grown up cynicism.  Whilst I agree to an extent, this doesn’t forgive The Songs of Innocence which are, contrary to what your English teacher may have tried to tell you, a load of old shit.  (I give you this, from Laughing Song: “When the meadows laugh with lively green / And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene / When Mary and Susan and Emily / With their sweet round mouths sing “Ha, ha he!”  Sorry, but that’s rubbish.  Did he not think, “Hmmm, needs a bit of work”?) Continue reading →

Putting Up The Bunting: Selection Box 141

Well, thats disturbing. I Googled jelly and this photo of Phil Cope popped up.

Well, that's disturbing. I Googled "jelly" and this photo of Phil Cope popped up.

For someone to forget to bring a load of records needed for a radio show is pretty daft.  To do it not only twice, but two weeks running -with the frustration of the previous occasion fresh in the mind – is the actions of a frankly hopeless prize bellend.  I am that soldier.  Thankfully it was not quite as many as last week, but was still sufficient to throw me off kilter a bit.

I can only assume that my focus has been confined far too much to next week’s 3rd birthday extravaganza, which may rather pathetically turn out to be a ménage à un at this rate seen as prospective guests have decided that they’re terribly busy watching television that evening.  There was a half-hearted “maybe” from Phil Cope, who I attempted to lure with the promise of jelly and ice cream, though he has previous when it comes to forgetting to turn up, and last time he did come on as a guest he blotted his copybook by bringing along a right load of cack to play in the form of Ebony & Ivory.  A solo celebration is beginning to look all the more appealing by the second.  And it means more jelly for me, nom nom nom…

Continue reading →