Only Time Can Tell And Take Away This Lonely Hell

They say that the loudest sound ever heard by man was the explosion of Krakatoa in 1883. They say it was so loud, it was heard 4,800 kilometres away.

They are wrong.

Because the loudest sound ever heard by man are the final screams of Barry Ryan on his 1968 recording of Eloise.

They come right at the end, and are mostly hidden in the fade out.

They are the screams of a man laying bare his soul, and pleading for forgiveness with the last breath he can muster.

They make a suicidal volcano sound like a rose opening to meet the sun.

And they can be heard in the darkest depths of heaven.

When I am King, all songs will be like this. Until then, let this be a reminder to you all.

Barry Ryan - Eloise

Obituary: The Fucks

In a world where any self respecting young man can expect to get a weekly barrage of friend requests from no end of tawdry Myspace bands/singer-songwriters/knob jockeys (no names, but deep down, in the quiet moments, they know who they are), it pains me when someone doing something good stops doing it.

The Fucks have stopped doing it, and this pains me.

This pains me, because:

Any band that can use the demo from a late 80s Yamaha keyboard as the basis of a song and actually get away with it, deserve a few caps doffed in their direction. The Fucks were such a band.

Any band that prefers casiotone drumbeats and shonky synths to the real thing, and then actually get away with it, deserve a hearty toast at their wake. The Fucks were such a band.

Any band that features two singers wailing away like the male and female twin offspring of Janis Joplin and Jimmy Somerville, deserve an obituary at the very least. The Fucks were such a band.

In summary - truly, they take the good ones young. For shame.

Hear more and pay your respects at their Myspace, which continues in their absence, and occasionally throws up the odd tale of their future endeavours. We wait, and we hope, and while we wait and hope, we delete friend requests from twot knockers, in memory of The Fucks.

Amen to that, my children. Amen.

The Fucks - Alright, Alright

The Fucks - Freedom Is A Good Thing

Still Stuck Inside My Dream

I've spent most of this afternoon trying to work out why Tap Tap are currently haunting my every waking moment.

I'm pretty sure it's got something to do with an apparent mastery of melody and soaring-yet-fragile vocals, matched against fall-apart-at-any-moment production and quaint stories about boy and girls and the troubles they cause each other.

It's probably got something to do with the odd lyric that stands out, looks you right in the eye, and tells you all about yourself, whilst confirming you're not actually alone after all.

It may even have something to do with thinking you may have heard it all before, then being proved monumentally wrong, whilst trying to work out quite why this time it's different.

But, I can't work it out. I daresay comparisons are there to be made, but comparisons are lazy, and being lazy is bad. So let's leave that there, shall we? Oh well.

They've released an album called Lanzafame on Catbird Records in Americay, which you can get from here via some kind of hyper postage system. And they're sometime associates of Stolen Recordings over here - She Doesn't Belong To Me can also be found on the outstanding Stolen compilation, which is currently available for a bargain Five English Pounds from here. Buy it all, you pretty pretty things.

Tap Tap - She Doesn't Belong To Me

Tap Tap - Drink Like A Boy

They Can't Take My Personal Dignity

Legend has it, that Alan McGhee let Kevin Rowland record My Beauty because after 10 years in the addled wilderness, no-one else would touch him with a bargepole, and McGhee felt a bit sorry for his fallen idol.

Legend has it that My Beauty sold a minimal amount, about 500 copies if my ever unreliable memory serves me right (this could be a fact, I just don't know how to check it).

It is fact that Kevin Rowland was bottled off stage at Reading, because he was wearing a skimpy dress, was heavily made up, and was singing Whitney Houston songs.

Fact or legend, these are just three reasons why My Beauty is an album that makes me wince. Born from Rowland's struggles with all kinds of substances and monumental set-backs before, during and after Dexys, it's a selection of covers that were chosen to represent where he'd got to in his life – which means You’ll Never Walk Alone and The Long And Winding Road, sandwiched alongside a flamenco-ed up Concrete And Clay, apparently. Lyrics were changed where deemed necessary, to make the songs more personal. In theory, it sounds like an ego fuelled car crash of pile up proportions.

But in practice, it's an exercise in naked soul bearing that's almost too much to take. Almost, but not quite, because initially, there's nothing more entertaining than watching someone open the curtains, letting us peer in. For truly, we are dirty swines. But it stands up beyond voyeuristic amusement and artistic exorcism, as the remarkable, unmistakable voice is still there, dripping in pathos, and ultimately we get a happy ending, because Dexys reformed four years after it was released.

My Beauty was deleted long long ago, but I daresay it’s out there somewhere if you look hard enough. Even if you can’t find it, rest easy in knowing it served its rehabilitative purpose, and have a listen to these beauties.

Kevin Rowland – The Greatest Love Of All

Kevin Rowland – You'll Never Walk Alone

4 Legs Good, 12 Legs Better

Happycasio! are the Animal Farm of modern popular music, before it all started getting tricky, and Snowball nicked off. And that makes me a bit teary.

To explain this sudden emotional excess on what is otherwise an ordinary Friday morning, let us consider the Happycasio! equation:

Vocals lost somewhere in a Bermuda Triangle of Ian Curtis, David Bowie and Tilt-ing Scott Walker

PLUS

Genius duelling naked guitars, who like each other really, and make up in every song

PLUS

Textbook Korg squeaks, squirts and bellows

PLUS

PiL-ed up bass lines, and reservedly manic drums

EQUALS

Epic pop that makes me cry.

Now, be cautioned, mix this up all wrong, and it's a mess. Too many egos sneaking up the volume and it falls apart. Anyone happy taking a supporting role, and it becomes pointless. Be cautioned, but worry not.

The possibly disparate parts of the 'Casio! understand that together we stand to an almost sickening extent, that allows them to make such massively proportioned pop songs, that they can whack in a couple of different choruses, take off at a tangent without due care or attention for anyone else, and still bring it all together in a six minute song that flies by. They've got it so right, it makes me weep. Bless.

Their myspace has got songs to listen to, you can download more songs here, and you can contact the band to try and get hold of their first two EPs which they put on their own Human Error label (which they assure us is proper like). They've got a third EP which will probably be called Bow Wow Wowie out imminently. You should have them all really, shouldn’t you. Hmm.

Happycasio! – Jeremy Clarkson

Happycasio! – Starting To Get Angry

It Only Takes A Minute. And A Half.

Things you can do in 90 seconds:

If you're in Bearsuit, and during a practice most of your band go out for a tea break, someone else wanders in, you form a band called Cruiser Chimps, and you come up with this healthy slice of crash-bang-shouty mentweelism - then, you put the drum sticks down, and carry on about your business.


Cruiser Chimps – Aha, Now I Understand

If you're three ladies getting ready to go to the best party ever, by playing Gauntlet and listening to the Rolling Stones, you put down your NES controller, turn the gramophone down, form a band called The Duloks, and you come up with this paean to the best four player arcade game ever.


The Duloks – Red Wizard Needs Food... Badly

If you're Ivor Cutler, you get a couple of friends round, and come up with whatever the fuck you like, because you're Ivor Cutler, and you're a genius.


Ivor Cutler Trio – Good Morning! How Are You? Shut Up!

If you're me, you try and think of a way to end this post, and fail.