alex lee thomson #7

06 Dec 2008

when trying to piece together my top records of 2008 i hit a brick wall... so here's how i got over it... kind of.

That time of the week isn't it... Thursday. How exciting. Monday is always so full of bogus hope and Tuesday it's emotionally oddball neighbour. Wednesday, of course, is a waste of time. What's ever happened on a Wednesday? Seriously... what? Nothing, that's what. Friday speaks for itself, but Thursdays. Ah, Thursdays. The weekend is just a sniff away, and all the best gigs are happening.

Tonight I'm off to check out The Cure with a promise of meeting the main man himself, thus fulfilling a lifelong quest to shake the hand of the man who penned 'Boys Don't Cry', arguably the world's best ever pop song. Certainly up there with 'Tiny Dancer' and 'Turn Tail' anyway. I'm interested to see if they're still relevant as I hold something of a 'legend' candle to them where as my delightful cousin, Tom, seems to not care one bit...being four years my junior I wonder how close the generation gap is on this one.

That animation over, let's get down to some serious blog business here. New music, or rather new British music, as I'd like to spotlight. Official Secrets Act are pretty much still the best thing around, what with their wonderful wads of pop shrubbery, all thrilling and bright, like. Such a wonderful band has never existed I'm sure. I find it fitting that I'm waxing lyrical about them within the same page as I do for The Cure. I wonder if one day, at some great big reunion gig on Mars, OSA will have some eager young scribe as anxious as I am towards Robert Smith. I wonder.

Such a magnificent week this is shaping up to be as yesterday I fell head over bingo-wings in love with the free CD from the NME. I know, right! It's easily the best free piece of music I've ever had... besides the new Lethal J Wizzle track of course... and yes, I do include Radiohead in that. I just don't get them. Sorry. Esser and Mystery Jets doing a cover of 'In Between Days', Futureheads tackling 'Lovecats' and British Sea Power doing 'A Forest'. All just spitefully fantastic.

In a rather selfish turn, I must rave about the new Molotovs songs, namely 'City Guest', and dare I whisper of the new recordings from Die! Die! Die!... oh, I've got chills, and they're multiplying.

This weeks does have an air of sadness though. The beloved Wendy Richards has passed away. She may not have written an opus, she may not have produced a seminal late 70's post-punk album or designed any Blur sleeves... but heck, I loved the woman. What can I say. She'll be missed. No woman pre or post Pauline Fowler has had the impact on my social development as much; the melancholy carousing for her fellow East-ender being unreservedly inspiration. The amount of times I wanted to be on the end of her walloping left hook is untold.

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