Brian Wilson RIP

Sad news today about the passing of archetypal tortured genius Brian Wilson.

If anyone asked I would of course say that Pet Sounds is my favourite Beach Boys album, but if I was being really honest I would have to admit that I probably like their earlier, more surf-centric stuff a bit better.

Thinking of songs like Surfin’ USA has reminded me that around the start of the year I was considering taking a trip to LA this summer. I decided against it, because of the general unfriendly vibe at the US border these days, and also the whole city-catching-on-fire thing, but I’m regretting that now, as I feel I should be there showing some solidarity in these difficult times.

David Lynch RIP

Sad news today of the passing of film director David Lynch, undoubtedly one of the finest auteurs of his generation.

My first exposure to Lynch’s genius was seeing Eraserhead when I was still at school, and I’ve followed his work ever since. As I’ve noted previously, Twin Peaks was a major influence on my cultural outlook during my student days. On my initial visit to Los Angeles in the early 90s practically the first thing I did was to track down a copy of the LA Reader, so that I could cut out The Angriest Dog in the World; that comic strip, now yellowed with age, is still a prized possession. Mulholland Drive became my favourite movie the first time I saw it back in 2001, and has remained so ever since, its phantasmagorical beauty beguiling me anew with each viewing. Of all Lynch’s creations I am perhaps fondest of Rabbits, which is incomparable in its unsettling incomprehensibity.

I could go on all night with examples – Dennis Hopper as Frank in Blue Velvet, the costume design in Dune, Lynch’s masterful use of music – but for some reason I feel a sudden need for some coffee and cherry pie

2024: The year in review – Part 1: Culture

Looking at my Tumblr I’m reassured to see that I did consume at least a little culture during the last twelve months; I’ll try to distill each category down to a top three.

Television

Despite subscribing to Netflix, Disney+ and Amazon Prime I almost never have time for TV shows. Only Murders in the Building: Season 4 was the sole series I watched all the way through, so I guess it takes gold by default, though it was pretty funny, so it would probably have won even with competition.

Film

My favourite movie by a mile this year was ultra-violent live-action Looney Tune Hundreds of Beavers, with Perfect Days and I Saw the TV Glow also making the podium, and Werner Herzog biopic Radical Dreamer just missing out. The 50th anniversary reissue of Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation was essential; his latest work Megalopolis rather less so, though it certainly had its moments.

Books

Paul Auster’s passing in April prompted me to catch up with his New York Trilogy, which turned out to be the highlight of a year when I mostly avoided more recent fiction; Jonathan Lethem’s Brooklyn Crime Novel was the exception and takes the silver. Bronze goes to non-fiction; Zeke Faux’s exposé of the crypto industry Number Go Up.

Music

I’ve listened to a lot of radio this year, mainly US college stations, which inspired me to compile a long list of new albums to get hold of, very few of which I actually got around to purchasing. Of those I did buy my top three are probably Fairweather Friend by The Umbrellas, News of the Universe by La Luz, and Manning Fireworks by MJ Lenderman, though on another day I might include Sierra Ferrell’s Trail Of Flowers, Rooting for Love by Laetitia Sadier, or This Is How Tomorrow Moves by beabadoobee. The best live shows I saw featured the aforementioned Umbrellas, Belle and Sebastian, and Jane Weaver. I even had a favourite opera – Marx in London!

That’s a brief run through the culture of 2024 as seen through my very limited lens; come back tomorrow for a look at the year in blogging.

Steve Albini RIP

Sad news about alt-rock legend Steve Albini, who died suddenly today, reportedly suffering a heart attack while working at his studio.

Albini engineered two of my all-time favourite albums, Pixies’ Surfer Rosa, and Pod by The Breeders, as well as Nirvana’s In Utero, which we mentioned just recently, and plenty other stuff I listened to in the late 80s and 90s, so he was definitely a major influence on the development of my musical consciousness in that era.

I was never hugely into Albini’s own music though, in Big Black or any of his subsequent projects; I did buy a copy of Songs About Fucking, but I don’t think I put it on more than a handful of times. That was at least partly due to his well-deserved reputation as an asshole; identifying as a fan wasn’t something I was entirely comfortable with. To be fair, in later years he did express what seemed like genuine contrition for the poses he struck back then, so I expect he will be remembered in a mostly positive light. His band Shellac are due to release what is now fated to be their last album later this month; I guess I could give him another chance. If nothing else it might unearth some fond memories of what I still think of as one of the more pleasant periods of my life.

Kurt Cobain RIP

It’s hard to believe that thirty years have passed since Kurt Cobain was found dead in Seattle. I recall that I heard the news via a tabloid headline stating, with the questionable taste characteristic of the time, something like “Rock Star blows his brains out”, which I initially assumed was a figurative reference to Cobain’s well-known drug use, before reading the story and finding out that it was horribly literal.

I like to think that I was one of the earlier fans of Nirvana, in the UK at least, having picked up an imported copy of Bleach, mainly on the strength of it being on Sub Pop. I was moderately impressed, enough anyway that I bought Nevermind in October 1991, before the hype really took off. I had recently acquired my first car, and for the next few months I had a tape of Smells Like Teen Spirit and the rest on more or less constantly as I drove around town, imagining myself a fine arbiter of alternative taste.

I saw Nirvana play live once, at the Reading Festival in 1992. Kurt came onstage in a wheelchair, wearing a hospital gown, a reference to rumours of a recent near-fatal overdose. I remember it as a great show, though at that point I had been continuously awake and high for around 72 hours, which may have influenced my critical judgment a little.

That appearance, their last in the UK, was probably the peak of my fandom; I liked In Utero well enough, but it wasn’t the ubiquitous soundtrack that Nevermind had been a couple of years earlier. Still, I was shaken up by Kurt’s untimely demise, which seemed like a dark reflection of Gen-X apathy. The following week the NME featured a sombre portrait of Cobain on the cover; I carefully cut it out and framed it, keeping it on my wall in numerous apartments, before it got lost during a move.

Looking back now, it all seems part of some previous life, though one that somehow feels simultaneously recent and distant. I guess it’s because I have no frame of reference for those events other than the experience of my younger self, and I haven’t remained 27 in the way that Kurt always will be. It’s bittersweet to be reminded of the relentless passage of time, but it’s good to have some things to look back on fondly.

Oh well, whatever. Nevermind.

Superbowl LVIII preview

Just a few hours to go before we discover if my confident prediction that San Francisco would prevail in Las Vegas will be borne out, or whether the curse of SLS will doom another hot favourite to ignominious failure.

The 49ers faltering performances in the playoff rounds had given me some doubts, but I had more or less convinced myself that they had enough to overcome Kansas City, until I read about the Deep State plot to ensure that Travis Kelce’s team come out on top, in order to boost the profile of the obscure singer-songwriter he is currently dating, which will apparently help Joe Biden get re-elected. I guess if it keeps Trump out then it’s a price worth paying.

In other Trump-related news, my forecast that the Supreme Court would body swerve the question of the ex-president’s eligibility, or lack of it, under the 14th Amendment seems set to be confirmed, as oral arguments in the case revealed that just about all the Justices wanted nothing to do with such a potentially explosive decision. So, assuming that both of the elderly gentlemen make it to November, it looks like the Biden-Trump rematch is very much on.

2023: The year in review – Part 1: Culture

Here we are at the end of December, time to look back on the year that has just passed. I’ll summarise our blogging output, such as it was, in the next post, but first up a run through of some of my personal cultural highlights of 2023.

Television – after a peak during the pandemic, my TV-watching has reverted back to being practically non-existent. The only new programme I took in was the third season of Only Murders in the Building, and even that I binge-watched over a couple of evenings. I do occasionally dip into back episodes of comedies like Arrested Development, or It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, but otherwise the medium is essentially dead to me. I’m not sure if that will change in the year ahead, though I’ll probably keep my various streaming-service subscriptions going just in case something good comes out.

Film – I did make much better use of my membership of our local art-house cinema this year, going more or less weekly for a spell, though that did tail off a bit more recently. Highlights included a Wes Anderson season ahead of the release of Asteroid City, anniversary revivals of classic films I just about remembered from the first time around, like Variety, Dazed and Confused, Gregory’s Girl, and Stop Making Sense, homage to the noughties NYC music scene Meet Me In The Bathroom, and of course summer blockbuster Barbie (though I skipped Oppenheimer, which I was not in the mood for at the time; I guess I should try to catch it before the Oscar nominations come out). My favourite film of the year was Anatomy of a Fall, an intriguingly ambiguous exploration of whether it is ever possible to really know another human being.

Books – My top read during 2023 was Richard Ford’s original Frank Bascombe trilogy, particularly The Sportswriter; the story of a middle-aged white guy navigating existential uncertainties unsurprisingly struck a chord at this point in my life. Other fiction I enjoyed included some more volumes of Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City, Nathanael West’s lurid LA nightmare The Day of the Locust, and a re-read of Sacher-Masoch’s classic Venus in Furs. In non-fiction there was Haruki Murakami’s Novelist as a Vocation, various works by Bertrand Russell, and, balanced somewhere between philosophy and fiction, Benjamín Labatut’s meditation on the implications of Artificial Intelligence, The Maniac.

Music – I finally got with the times and signed up for a Spotify account this year, and I’ve been relying on their algorithm to supply my general background soundtrack. I’m still undecided on whether this is a good or a bad thing; it has introduced me to a few new artists, but mostly plays my old favourites. I do still read the music press, and listen to the radio, which I hope is enough to steer me towards some fresh albums; here are my top ten from 2023:

Compiling this annual retrospective, and comparing it with entries from previous years, I’m unable to escape the conclusion that the breadth of my cultural horizons is inexorably shrinking, in terms of the absolute number of books, movies and records that I consume (as enumerated in our Tumblr), but also in my willingness to look outside of my habitual preferences (which were probably always more fixed than I cared to admit). In my more pessimistic moments I consider this an inevitable consequence of advancing age, but every now and again I feel a spark of enthusiasm for some new experience, which is enough to reassure me that I’m not ready for the scrapyard just yet. Perhaps 2024 will be a year of personal renaissance, I guess we’ll see.

So much for my internal world; what of my engagement with external reality through the medium of this blog? Read our next post to find out…

Burning dilemma

There was a period back in the mid-00s when I harboured a desire to attend the Burning Man Festival, but the logistics always defeated me, and in the end I sadly accepted it was never going to happen, consoling myself by taking in the Second Life version instead.

More recently, as my life has progressed and I have become somewhat less encumbered by responsibility, the thought of going has entered my mind again, and when I read last month that tickets were more available than usual this year I wondered if I should drop everything for a quick transatlantic trip.

Predictably enough I didn’t get my act together, and just as well, as it’s turned out fairly grim. (Though not by all accounts; some people seem to be having a fine time). In any case I would probably have felt a bit conflicted by the inflation of my carbon footprint consequent on such a frivolous excursion, as well as the environmental cost of the festival itself, not to mention the morality of lavish expenditure in the midst of a cost of living crisis. Perhaps I can recreate the vibe on a more sustainable scale by getting stoned and lighting some garbage on fire in my own backyard this weekend…

Tom Verlaine RIP

Sad news today; Tom Verlaine has passed away, at the age of 73. I was just getting into music when Television broke up in 1978, so I didn’t catch up with them until later; Marquee Moon has been a favourite since my college days, and after their reunion I saw them when they toured in 2014, and again in 2016.

Much has been written about Television’s musical legacy, but equally important, for me at least, was their sartorial influence; I’ve been trying to carry off that 70s New York underground look for most of the last 40 years…

2022: The year in review – Part 1: Culture

It’s time once again for the annual audit of my engagement with contemporary culture. As ever the full story is on our Tumblr; here are the best bits:

Television – I still subscribe to several streaming services, but despite this I’ve been watching a lot less TV this year compared with last. I was going to say it was mostly lightweight genre programming, but looking back I see it was actually exclusively lightweight genre programming; I evidently no longer have the intellectual stamina for the sort of serious dramas that the critics recommend. I liked Moon Knight, and The Rings of Power was pretty to look at if ultimately rather unsatisfying, but, judged by the speed with which I binge-watched it, my vote for most enjoyably diverting show would have to go to season two of Only Murders in the Building.

Film – At the start of the year I took out a membership at our local arthouse cinema, fully intending to get back into the independent movie habit; let’s just say that hasn’t quite worked out, though I did manage around one film a month. Honourable mentions go to Amsterdam, Licorice Pizza, and Nightclubbing, but I’ll try to maintain my cinephile credibility by nominating a film with subtitles as my favourite; The Worst Person in the World.

Books – My major literary project this year was reading The Brothers Karamazov, which I found every bit as good as its reputation suggests; satisfying philosophically but also narratively, with characters so vividly drawn that one never feels they are mere mouthpieces for Dostoyevsky’s ideas, rather than living, feeling individuals. I have some regret that I didn’t tackle this great work years ago, but on the other hand I also believe that the books that stay with you are the ones you read at the right time in your life; perhaps late middle-age is when I needed to meet Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov and his sons. My other obsession in 2022, inspired by my trip in the summer, involved books about life in California; highlights in the fiction category included works by Bret Easton Ellis, Edward Bunker, Joan Didion, and Armistead Maupin. My favourite book of the year was something more contemporary though; I Fear My Pain Interests You, by Stephanie LaCava.

Music – I’ve purchased rather fewer albums this year than usual; I think it’s because I’ve not been listening to the radio or reading the music press much. Still a lot of good stuff though; here are my top eleven, since I can’t quite edit it down to ten:

I didn’t get to see much live music this year; of the shows I did attend Kim Gordon was the one I really enjoyed.

So that’s the year in culture; not particularly adventurous I guess, but not totally ossified either. Next up: blogging.