In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s already Christmas, certainly as far as the retailers are concerned. Hence the availability today in Hebden Bridge of coasters made from those plastic detachable bits in the middle of vinyl records. Call it ‘upcycling’ if you like. I guess I see the point: I didn’t buy one, though.
Happy birthday to the wife: I shall leave the exact number unstated (though you could work it out from looking at past October 26ths on this blog if you really felt like it). One of the weekend’s organised entertainments was to see Gogol Bordello at the Albert Hall in Manchester; they therefore become the first rock band (or should we say Ukrainian-American gypsy punk rockabilly band) to appear on here twice. Until I looked it up I was recalling our first encounter happening in 2017 or something like that but their first appearance turns out to have been 14th December 2013; nearly twelve years ago. Blimey. I’m impressed they have sustained the energy levels all that time. But I suppose Eugene Hütz (putting in a second personal appearance, on the left) is younger than me. (Although he’s older than Clare.) Well, good luck to you my friend — perhaps we will catch up again in 2037, if you’re still leaping about the stage at that point.
When Spiritualized’s Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space album came out in 1997 it was a definite moment in the growth of my musical appreciation. I pulled it out of the pile somewhat randomly this evening and listened to it for the first time in years, but it still works. Apparently this version, packaged like a giant pill-box such as you might get from the pharmacist, is a ‘Special Edition’ and might well have been worth something in 2025 had all that careful replica packaging not been ravaged by repeated plays down the years. Digging it out was the most interesting thing I did today, anyway.
Another less-than-exciting day: I am spending most of this week marking dissertations. One thing about the Railway is that it’s always had a very decent juke box. I don’t remember exactly what track was on at 4.40 this Thursday afternoon but whatever it was, this person was not the only one tapping at least one of their feet to it.
Another week that I am glad to get to the end of. There seem to be a lot of these lately, at least where work is concerned. No matter, it’s Friday evening, and there was some half-decent music down in town courtesy of this gentleman and his relatively portable retro equipment.
A still life. Those who know New Order may see my point with the title of this post. But it is just a random flowerpot, really.
Judging by the number of ads that covered his pedestal (you see only a small portion of them here), this is what this guy does, full-time. But we all have our social media presence, don’t we.
How Goat are good? Sorry…. How God are Goat? Surely the best band ever to hail from Sweden. OK… maybe the second, but only in more general popular opinion.
Calling a band an ‘institution’ is something of a double-edged compliment, as it suggests they have been around a while — and the local Hebden Bridge institution that is (or are) the Owter Zeds were, indeed, celebrating their 40th anniversary at the Trades Club tonight, a gig I came all the way back from London to attend. And plenty of fun it was; if you like a bit of ska, you could do worse. The sax player gets on the blog for the second time, the first being over 10 years ago, when they were mere striplings of just 30 years’ experience.
This unashamedly retro object was one of my birthday presents. Why is such an anachronistic piece of kit being described as ‘necessary’? Because I still happen to have plenty of very good quality information stored in this particular medium; a good stock of compilation tapes, like any good 80s/90s boy. And the last cassette player I had access to disappeared with the recent scrapping of the Skoda Fabia I could hire from the local car club. But I still want to listen to My Stuff. And now, once again — at home, for the first time in years — I can.
Being 42 