and I just can't explain, so I won't even try to...

--
Earworms of the Week

I'm afraid you've only got me for the earworm rundown this week, so it's back to the usual old guitar-based claptrap. Still, what can you do?

Since I've been subscribed to LastFM (about 100 years after everyone else, I know), I've suddenly become a lot more conscious of what I'm listening to. It's not so much because my listening choices are now pretty much there for everyone to see and to laugh at, it's more because it makes it completely visible to me. I know that most of the same information is available in iTunes, but this seems so much more accessible. Anyway, in stark contrast to all the compiliations I've been listening to as a result of the shuffleathon, this week I've been in a real album-listening mood - Eels, Sufjan Stevens, Morrissey, Bowie, Simon & Garfunkel, Sigur Ros, James.... and I've not watched any tv or listened to the radio either, so no prizes for guessing what makes the list.....

> "We're Going to Miss You" - James

Much underrated band, James. This is of "Millionaires", the album that they put out after the success of their Greatest Hits album. They hoped that this was going to be the album that finally catapulted them to the big time. It didn't. It's a shame really, as it's one of their very finest albums. This isn't one of the more obvious standouts on the album (like "Crash" or "I Know What I'm Here For" or "Just Like Fred Astaire"), but it's got a beautiful, haunting refrain.

"Here's a mirror with your name on
Singing 'we're going to miss you when you're gone'"

Good band. This felt like an epitaph at the time, and they didn't have too much petrol left in the tank after this. Shame.

> "Oh! You Pretty Things" - David Bowie

Classic era Bowie, obviously. Off "Hunky Dory" and planted in my head after a conversation with my director's secretary on music and which bands we liked and so on, and she told me that Bowie was her favourite. When quizzed about which era Bowie, she immediately went for "Starman" and "Life on Mars" era, of course. I'd like to tell you, probably with a haughty sniff, that I prefer "Low" and "Heroes" era Bowie, but it would be cobblers.

Actually, it was in the same conversation that I discovered that my boss's first ever gig was Dave Lee Roth at the Birmingham NEC. Nice! We were all also a little sad to discover that Cozy Powell is dead and has been for some time.

> "Narc" - Interpol

Paul Banks sounds like an undertaker singing lyrics written by a lawyer, but I love Interpol. I gave "Antics" a spin as I was driving home in the dark the other day. I think Interpol are the kind of band that are meant to be listened to in the dark.

> "At the Zoo" - Simon & Garfunkel

"The monkeys stand for honesty,
Giraffes are insincere,
And the elephants are kindly but
Theyre dumb.
Orangutans are skeptical
Of changes in their cages,
And the zookeeper is very fond of rum.

Zebras are reactionaries,
Antelopes are missionaries,
Pigeons plot in secrecy,
And hamsters turn on frequently."

eh?

I barely know where to being. What's reactionary about a zebra?

> "Svefn-g-Englar" - Sigur Rós

I've seen Sigur Ros live a couple of times now, and on both occasions they were supporting Radiohead. I can very clearly remember standing in a big top near Newport watching them perform their unique magic and having my friends moaning about how it was just the most bizarre kind of rubbish and shouldn't we go and get a pint or something. They were wrong then, and if they still think Sigur Rós are rubbish, then they're still wrong. There's just nobody else like them. This song makes me think of whalesong.

> "It's a Motherfucker" - Eels

I'm incredibly irritated that I missed the programme that was on the other day with E exploring his father's "Other Worlds" theory. Still, I've been listening to the eels all week anyway. This isn't very long, and it certainly isn't very cheery, but it's a beautiful and articulate song of pain and loss.

> "Looking at the World from the Bottom of a Well" - Mike Doughty

Charlie is the first person I ever found by pressing the "Next Blog" button, and I've been reading "Late Night Radio" ever since. We've talked about music many times before, but we've only just got around to sending each other a mix CD. The first name that I looked out for on the tracklisting of mine was Mike Doughty, and sure enough, he was there. Charlie clearly adores Doughty and writes about him a lot... but I'd never even heard of him, never mind heard any of his music. This finally remedies that particular wrong. US Alt Rock has a sound all of its very own, and a very particular singing style. Doughty certainly has that kind of voice, but instead of putting me off, as it sometimes does, this time I found myself sucked in. Again, it's not an especially happy song, but it's a very good song and I have to say that I'm curious to hear some more..... mission accomplished then Charlie!

> "Decatur, or, Round of Applause for Your Step-Mother!" - Sufjan Stevens

I listened to "Illinoise" as I was reading in bed on Thursday night. It was a good choice: quiet enough not to disturb my reading, but interesting enough that it didn't entirely blend into the background. It's usually something like "Chicago", "John Wayne Gacy Jr" or "Casimir Pulaski Day" that catch my ear, but this time it was this one. He does like his silly, overly long titles to his songs, doesn't he?

> "Now My Heart is Full" - Morrissey

I've had a bit of a Morrissey themed week, all things considered. It started when I bought Mark a couple of tickets to the Friday of the Roundhouse gigs in January (alas, I can't go as I'm off skiing). That was enough to have me digging out "Ringleader of the Tormentors" and "Vauxhall & I". Then it was "M" in the alphabeticon, and then of course on Thursday I read all about the latest NME "Morrissey is a racist!" furore. I've eulogised the man enough for one week, I think, but suffice it to say that I reckon that "Vauxhall & I" is his best solo album (well, it's my favourite) and "Now My Heart Is Full" is my favourite song on it. It's about Brighton Rock, apparently.

---

Right. I'm off down to my parents' house for the annual winetasting thing they do in aid of the local village hall. On the down side it means I will have to listen to the seasonally themed contributions from the old hams of the village entertainment group (including my dad), including the dread moment when we will be bullied into participating (with *actions*) to the "Twelve Days of Christmas". On the plus side though, there will be lots of good wine to try. Swings and roundabouts, eh?

It will be the first time that I stay in the new house too. It's a bit weird to be going "home" and sleeping in a room that is a guest room and not MY room. Hey ho.

he only wants to embrace your culture...

There was a time when I would get agitated by a story like this one.



Fifteen years since the last time they did exactly the same thing, the NME has a cover story detailing Morrissey's apparently suspect views on immigration (Andrew Collins, who wrote for the NME the last time this happened, tells the whole story here, but basically in 1992, the NME climbed onto its high horse and accused Morrissey not of racism, but of flirting with racist imagery and courting a dangerous crowd. Being a contrary, cantankerous old bastard, Morrissey refused to apologise. Big brouhaha and lots of publicity all round).



And now they're doing it again.

Fifteen years ago, it annoyed me. Now, I'm just amazed that the NME is still interested enough in Morrissey to put him on the front cover. Or that Morrissey cares enough about the NME to bother to respond, dragging the story out even further.

What does anyone stand to gain by stirring up this media storm with accusation and counter-accusation? Why draw so many people's attention to a once great magazine now on its uppers and struggling to attract an audience a fraction of the size of the one it pulled in during its salad days? Why focus the spotlight onto a once great musician now struggling to attract an audience a fraction of the size of the one he drew during his glory years.

....Oh.

good looking, so refined....

C. got up early this morning and was picked up for another drive down to Heathrow and another trip overseas with her new job. Now, I know that all this international travel sounds tremendously glamorous, but I've done enough of it myself to know that the reality of it is often rather different: it's extremely tiring and stressful, and most of the time you would far rather be at home in your tracky-bums watching a bit of telly and not eating room service in another soulless hotel.

It wasn't all that surprising, therefore, that C. spent quite a lot of time huffing and puffing about her trip as she packed her bag last night. This time though, my sympathy is limited.

She's going to Monte Carlo.
She's staying in the Fairmont Hotel in Monaco.
She has no specific role at the conference and no duties other than to attend.

Ah yes, she said, but it's going to be tremendously boring.
Yes. But boring in Monaco is not at all the same thing as bored in Nottingham, is it? You're in bloody Monaco, for starters.
But I haven't been given any guidelines about what the dress-code is, she said, so I'm having to pack loads of stuff, including a ballgown, just in case. After all, I don't yet know if I'm going to be invited to the party on the yacht....
....Oh, you poor thing, I said.

She rang me at work this afternoon. Twice. The first time was to tell me that she had been met at the airport by a chauffeur holding up a card with her name on it and driven from Nice to the hotel. The second call was to tell me how, when she had gone to check in at the hotel, the receptionist had seen her name and told her that she just needed to speak to the Duty Manager. She then heard the receptionist telling the duty manager that there was a V.I.P. checking into the hotel, and so the duty manager came over to welcome her personally and to show her to a room with a balcony overlooking the harbour. I'm very much looking forward to her next call: perhaps she'll have won big on the roulette wheel with a chip given to her with the compliments of the management, or maybe she'll have just had dinner with George Clooney. Who knows?

There are business trips and there are business trips. This is the kind of business trip where you are pushing it if you are expecting much sympathy.....

Do I sound at all bitter as I sit listening to the football on radio and sipping from my cup of sour grapes?

Still, someone has to stay at home and keep the home fires burning, eh?

Pah!

far too long chasing your tail (oh....)

--
>>>>>ST's ALPHABETICON - Part xiii: M<<<<<

Previously in the Alphabeticon: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L

Lots to get through this week, so I think we should just get straight in without much foreplay this week. Alright? Suffice it to say that this is *not* a definitive list of my record collection, just a run through one set of shelves.

Right?

Right.

Off we go.

275. Henry Mancini – The Rare Mancini

I think I picked this up from a bargain bin somewhere about a decade or so ago. It's a pleasant enough album, but the clue is in the title really: you won't find the theme to the Pink Panther on here. Not on regular rotation around here, I have to say.

276. Mercury Rev – Deserter’s Songs
277. Mercury Rev – All Is Dream

One of the regrets of my life is that I opted to spend a sunny Friday afternoon at Glastonbury in c. 2002 watching Ash instead of trudging over to the Other Stage and watching Mercury Rev. Ash are always good value live and it saved me some walking as all of the other bands I wanted to see were on the Pyramid.... but I'd seen Ash before, and I've seen them since, but I've still not seen Mercury Rev. It's not a major regret or anything, but it is a regret as they are a fabulous and interesting band. LB is a much wiser man than me - he made the trek, and apparently they were brilliant.

278. Moby – Play
279. Moby – 18

Play is instantly familiar, of course, having been used in so many adverts... but this is pleasant enough background music. He's surprisingly good (and surprisingly ROCK) live too.

280. Alanis Morissette – Jagged Little Pill

It's a decent enough album, I suppose, but is it just me, or is it a little bit of its era (i.e. dated)?? I also cannot think of Alanis without thinking of two things in particular, one good and one less so: her (brilliant) appearance on "Curb Your Enthusiasm", where she was run over by Larry David, and a picture I once saw of her competing in a triathlon. As a sometime triathlete myself, I initially thought that this was quite cool, but then I noticed that there was some, shall we say, overspill from her swimsuit. Spider's legtastic. It's probably not quite the legacy that this accomplished and best-selling musician was hoping to leave with people, but there you go.

281. Muse – Origin of Symmetry
282. Muse – Absolution
283. Muse – Black Holes & Revelations

Brilliant, I suppose, but they are a band that I can only cope with them in small doses. Any more than about half an hour of Muse in any one sitting and my head wants to explode. It's just too intricate for me to cope with. It's so complex and dense-sounding that it's almost like listening to classical music, and I dislike classical music (or at least find it hard to listen to without becoming oddly tense). Good band to watch live though.

284. Mull Historical Society – Loss

I've got his other album on iTunes I think, and they're both very good. I've hardly listened to them. I really must.

285. Madness – Divine Madness
286. Madness – One Step Beyond

I grew up with Madness. Not literally, of course, but in the sense that I first really became aware of music at a time when they were all over the singles chart. They had an amazing run of hits, all of them on "Divine Madness", which as a result is a cracking album. I saw the band live a couple of times, once at Madstock in the early 90s, when they were supported by people like Aswad, A Guy Called Gerald and Ian Dury and the Blockheads, and once in their own right at Wembley Arena, backed by 808 State. They're great fun, as you would probably expect. There's also more to Madness than just the singles, and I would encourage people to check out some of their other stuff too. I think I used to have more on cassette, but "One Step Beyond" is notable for "The Bed & Breakfast Man": a song about a bloke who steals ladies' underwear from washing lines. Brilliant band.

287. Joni Mitchell – Blue

Obviously. Worth it just for "River".

288. Massive Attack - 100th Window
289. Massive Attack – Protection
290. Massive Attack – Blue Lines
291. Massive Attack – Mezzanine

I don't have a great deal of music that iTunes classifies as "Trip-Hop", but I do own quite a lot of Massive Attack. I suppose - like Faithless - they're a hip-hop band that it's okay for skinny white indie kids to like. That explains their presence here then, just as it explains the mass of Faithless stuff filed under "F". Actually, that's not fair on either Massive Attack or on me: they're a bloody good band, and they conjure up an air of menace like few others. "Unfinished Sympathy" tends to get picked out as their greatest song, but I prefer "Protection" myself.

292. Morrissey – Viva Hate
293. Morrissey – Bona Drag
294. Morrissey – Your Arsenal
295. Morrissey – Beethoven was Deaf
296. Morrissey – Vauxhall & I
297. Morrissey – Southpaw Grammar
298. Morrissey - Maladjusted
299. Morrissey – You Are The Quarry
300. Morrissey – Ringleader of the Tormentors
301. Morrissey – Suedehead –the best of Morrissey
302. NME Songs to Save Your Life (compiled by Morrissey)

Ah yes. Stephen Patrick Morrissey. Where to begin? My relationship with Morrissey started in 1992 and has been going strong ever since. Sure, there have been some bad times (and no matter what anyone tries to tell me, I'm not sure that "Maladjusted" has any redeeming features at all. Take the song "Roy's Keen", for example: apparently he's never met a keener window cleaner. Rubbish). But there have been some good times too. Oh, and then some. For all that he's had his ups and downs and the quality control has sometimes been variable, Morrissey reaches highs that -- in my opinion -- few others can touch. I listen to music for all kinds of reasons and in all kinds of situations, but fundamentally I want music to move me. There is no other musician in the world who has affected me as much as Morrissey. For me, it really is as simple as that.

303. The Smiths – The Smiths
304. The Smiths – Hatful of Hollow
305. The Smiths – Meat is Murder
306. The Smiths – The Queen Is Dead
307. The Smiths – Strangeways Here We Come
308. The Smiths – Best II
309. The Smiths – Louder Than Bombs

Yeah, alright, I realise that this lot is filed in completely the wrong place, and I realise too that the whole point of an alphabetical filing system is that you put stuff in the right place so that it's nice and easy to find... but bollocks to all that... it's me that needs to find stuff, and this is how my head works. Anyway. I actually discovered The Smiths before I discovered Morrissey's solo stuff. It was still some 5 years after the band broke up, but there you go. I was in my first year at University, and very much still in my heavy metal phase when I borrowed a cassette from my friend Leon and found myself mesmerised by what I was hearing. It was "Half a Person" that grabbed me first. I'd heard of the band before, of course, but I'd never really listened to them. It was the voice that first took me, but I was only really hooked when I began to listen to the lyrics. From that song, I moved on to the rest of the "Best I" and "Best II" collections, and my musical world changed forever. I still love heavy metal and rock, of course, but this is my benchmark of greatness now. Funnily enough, initially it was all about Morrissey and his lyrics for me, but as I've got older, I've begun to realise quite how much Johnny Marr brought to the party. If you want to know what Morrissey's solo work is missing (and compared to this stuff, it really is missing something), then the answer is a musical collaborator with anything like Johnny Marr's talent. Both are fantastic in their own right, but together their chemistry was something special that made them so much more than the sum of their parts. Their reputation has been growing every year since they broke up, and I just hope to God that they resist all the pots of cash they are surely being offered to reform. I'd love to see them of course, but I would love to see them in about 1986. I'm not interested in seeing my favourite ever band go through the motions for the cash. They're perfect. I have come a long way since I was that lonely teenager back in 1992, but in some ways I haven't changed at all.

310. Scott Matthews – Passing Stranger

"Elusive" is a brilliant song and the reason that I bought this record. The album is.... alright. I hear that the second album will contain a lot more acoustic stuff and material a lot more like his biggest hit. No shit.

311. Metallica – The Black Album
312. Metallica – Ride the Lightning

I bought "And Justice for All" on cassette when I was fourteen years old and an avid Iron Maiden fan. I discovered that Metallica are a very different animal to Maiden indeed, and it took me quite a long time -- years, in fact -- before I really appreciated quite how good an album that is. I still liked them well enough to buy the Black Album when it came out (Is "Enter Sandman" the greatest rock song ever? Perhaps.... Boh!), to investigate their thrashier past and to see them live (at the Milton Keynes Bowl - still one of the best gigs I've ever been to), but it's only comparatively recently that I've rediscovered them. The documentary film "Some Kind of Monster" should have made them into laughing stocks as they tried to resolve their differences through filmed therapy sessions as they recorded their new album, but somehow the band come out of it with an odd kind of dignity and a realisation (by me, at least) that they are really one of the great metal bands. Listen to a song like "Battery" and tell me that this band don't rock. And thanks to a generous friend, I now have all of their stuff in digital format too. Yay!

313. Maximo Park – A Certain Trigger
314. Maximo Park – Our Earthly Pleasures

Just before Glastonbury 2005, a colleague at work tipped me off to a band to go and see on the John Peel stage. Their guitarist was a friend of her brother, and she told me they were supposed to be pretty good and I should check them out. I was going to, but it was muddy on the day, and I didn't really fancy flogging myself down to the back end of nowhere in the sludge and stayed where I was. The first album I bought when I got back home was "A Certain Trigger", and it took me one play to realise what a terrible mistake I'd made. I actually didn't get to see them until earlier this year (and they were also one of the best bands I saw at Glastonbury this year too). Were they worth the wait? Hell yes. Brilliant band. And "Our Earthly Pleasures" is my favourite album of the year by about a million miles. I mentioned this to my colleague the other day, and she said she'd be sure to pass my feedback on to Dunc....

315. Bob Marley – Legend

Amusingly, I first bought this on cassette in 1987 and it was all a terrible mistake - I had got him confused with Bob Dylan. An easy mistake to make, right? Well, at least I picked a goodie. I'd far rather listen to this Bob.

316. Manic Street Preachers – Generation Terrorists
317. Manic Street Preachers – Gold Against the Soul
318. Manic Street Preachers – The Holy Bible
319. Manic Street Preachers – Everything Must Go
320. Manic Street Preachers – This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours
321. Manic Street Preachers – Know Your Enemy
322. Manic Street Preachers – Send Away The Tigers

A great band. I think I've been with this lot almost since the very beginning. Yeah, I don't have "Motown Junk" on 7" or anything like that, but I've been buying their albums since "Generation Terrorists" and have followed them ever since. I've also seen them live many, many times: from the furs and makeup of their fans when they backed the Stone Roses at Wembley Arena through to their sober, statesmanlike appearance at Glastonbury this year. I like most of their stuff, but for me, "The Holy Bible" is a work of genius. I spent several months studying in Venice back in the winter of 1994, and I have vivid memories of walking across town in the small hours of the morning on the way back from a bar listening to the Manics. My route took me across Accademia Bridge and through a totally deserted St. Mark's Square, and this was always my soundtrack. I also remember having an argument with a guy I worked with at HMV: he maintained that "Insomnia" by Faithless was the song of the year, I argued that it was "Kevin Carter" by the Manics. I think I can now see his point of view, I suppose, but I still reckon I was right.

*cough*

--

Missing in iTunes: The Maccabees, Madonna, Machito and his Orchestra, Magic Numbers, Magnapop, Mamas & Papas, Marion, the Marvelettes, Matt Monro, McAlmont & Butler, McFly, Meatloaf (I've got Bat out of Hell on CD somewhere too), The Members, Men At Work, Mew, The Miracles, Modern Groove Syndicate, Mogwai, Molasses, Monaco, The Monkees, Morning Runner, Motley Crue, Motorhead, My Chemical Romance, Mylo...

Blimey. What a lot of "M"s.

We're now halfway through the alphabeticon, so I reckon I'll take a break next week and run you through all my CD singles.

Just for a change, like.

---

Shuffleathon 2007 Update

Shuffler	Posted	Received
1. Tina	yes	review
2. Sarah	yes
3. Cody Bones	yes	review
4. Mark	yes	review
5. Michael	yes	review
6. Hen	yes	yes
7. Cat	yes	review
8. bedshaped	yes	yes
9. Pynchon	yes	review
10. J	yes	review
11. The Great Grape Ape	yes	review
12. Ian	yes	review
13. Martin
14. Monogodo	yes	yes
15. Threelight	yes	review
16. Paul	yes	review
17. Charlie	yes	review
18. LB	yes
19. Katyola	yes	review
20. Lisa	yes	review
21. Graham	yes?
22. Del	yes	review
23. Spins	yes
24. Ben	yes
25. Dragon	yes	yes
26. Adem	yes	review
27. Mike	yes	review
28. JoeInVegas	yes	yes
29. Wombat	yes
30. Max Bob	yes	review
31. Stevious	yes	review
32. Asta	yes	review
33. Alan	yes	review
34. Russ L	yes	review
35. E.	yes
36. Mike T-D	yes	yes
37. JamieS	yes
38. Briskate	yes	review
38. Me	yes	review

From a concept stolen from the lovely YokoSpungeon....

they do run run...

On Thursday, I received a hefty blow to my ankle.

By Friday, my ankle had blown up and I could barely walk. An X-ray revealed that it was not broken, but ligament damage would mean that I would have to rest it up for a week or two.

I'm due to go skiing at the end of January, and because I'm obviously going to need my ankle in full working order for that, resting up and giving it a good chance of a full recovery seems like simple common sense to me. Why on earth would I want to do anything that would slow down my rehabilitation and might jeopardise all that outlay on a skiing holiday? Why risk it?

So why was it that by Sunday I was chafing at the bit to get out and do some exercise? My ankle was still bruised and pretty sore, but I was now able to get around quite a lot more easily, and my attention inevitably began to focus on wondering whether or not I could get away with going for a swim or something. Thanks in the main to a series of extremely disapproving / withering looks from C, I somehow found the strength to resist that urge and spent the day sat on the sofa watching the telly and reading the papers. I know that's how Sundays are supposed to be spent, but I really found it a struggle. My weekends are generally planned around my exercise routine: a run on the Saturday and a swim or something on the Sunday. Everything else is worked out around those two immoveables. This weekend was different: the last proper exercise that I have done was that game of football on Thursday evening. Under normal circumstances I would have done another 3 sessions since then (swim - run - swim). I'd probably give myself Monday evening off, but would be back out again over lunch on Tuesday for a run, another swim on Wednesday, football on Thursday, swim on Friday.... and so on.

I may have got a perfectly sensible excuse for not doing all this exercise, but the net result of missing out on those 3 sessions is that I feel fat and lazy. It's ridiculous, I know, but that's absolutely the way that I feel about it. I look at myself in the mirror and I imagine that I can see myself getting heavier and I'm desperate to do something about it.

By almost anyone's measure, I'm pretty skinny already, and my metabolism is stoked up so high that I could presumably stand to rest for a few days without putting on so much as an extra pound. For whatever reason though, I do not see it like that: when I look in the mirror I do not see the thin, bony man with the sticky-outy veins and the hollow cheeks that everyone else seems to see. When I look at myself, even though I can easily count my own ribs, I only ever see the bits that wobble and I imagine them getting bigger and bigger the longer I look at them and do nothing. As a result, I feel compelled to exercise, and when I do exercise, I feel compelled to flog myself. I don't like to weight train, I like to run. I only swim because I need to do something that helps to stop the muscle wastage in my upper body that the WTs are causing and because it stretches my back out; it always feels like a fairly gentle form of exercise to me, and is therefore a bit unsatisfying. Only running really gives me the feeling that I am working hard enough - nothing else makes me sweat so much or makes my muscles ache so much. That's the one exercise that really feels as though it's doing me some good. It hurts, and pain is good.

I haven't exercised since Thursday and I'm facing up to the fact that I realistically won't be able to anything much until next Saturday at the earliest.

The very thought of it is driving me mad with frustration.

Crazy, I know, but that appears to be who I am.

I think maybe I might try a swim tomorrow night.

it only takes a camera to change her mind....

It was back at the beginning of July that we first caught sight of a certain 6 month old kitten who had been rescued by the RSPCA. She had been found several weeks before wandering the mean streets of St. Annes, and it took her all of about 5 seconds to capture our hearts from her little pod at the rescue centre with that lampshade collar around her neck and her pink paws pressed up against the window as we passed by. Naturally, she's very much the undisputed queen of the household, and has been almost from the moment she arrived.....



I'm hopelessly biased, of course, but I think she's a very pretty cat. It seems I'm not alone, and I'm pleased to say that our Minou is fast becoming something of a poster girl for the RSPCA: if you visit RSPCA-pix.com and click on "cats", you may just see a photo of a certain tabby kitten. Should you so wish, you can also purchase prints, mousemats, mugs, t-shirts and fridge magnets all displaying her pretty face.

I'm as proud as you like, but do me a favour and don't mention it to the cat though, eh? She struts around the place as it is.......

Credit also due here to a wonderful, talented photographer.

Now: would it be too much to get a t-shirt emblazoned with my cat's face?

Yeah, you're probably right.

P'raps not.

is that the kind of thing that you think you might be into?

Well, it's been a great day for me so far. I can trace my woes back to that innocent moment in last night's game of football when I put my foot down to block a shot. Unfortunately for me, instead of putting it down between the ball and the goal, I actually put it down resting against the side of the ball just as my opponent kicked it. The result was that the power of the shot passed straight through the ball and into my ankle. I hopped around for a bit, thought idly that I'm supposed to be going skiing in January, went in goal for a bit and then played the rest of the match trying to "run it off". I iced it when I got home, but it basically felt alright.

Sadly, when I woke up this morning, I could hardly walk. My lovely neighbour Hen was kind enough to drive me to the doctor who took one look and referred me for an x-ray at the hospital. At the hospital, I was informed (after the x-ray) that I would get the results from my doctor in the next seven to ten days. Pardon? Now, so far today, all of the healthcare attention I have received today has been free at the point of access, which is the brilliant part about the National Health Service, but I can't walk, so a ten day wait isn't going to be much good to me. Right. Hm. You'd better go to Accident & Emergency then. More waiting. It's not broken. Good news. Apparently I've torn a ligament, most likely the anterior talofibular ligament. That all sounds very serious, but I think the nurse was being nice to me and tarting it up a bit. If you call it by its more common name, it's a sprained ankle. Not such a big deal. The treatment? Ice it up baby, rest it up and don't do much on it for a few days, perhaps a week or two... maybe even three months. Skiing should be alright, but odds on when I can get back out running? I'm going to target next Saturday and see how I go. A week without exercise? I think it will be the death of me.

I'm also supposed to be day-tripping to London tomorrow for some shopping. I'm planning on going, unless something equally serious like a hang nail or a particularly painful spot persuade me I should just stay in bed....

Anyway. To more important matters: this week's Guest Editor has graced this spot with his tuneless dirges twice already, but I just can't get enough of him. Fresh off the back from the qualified success of his shuffleathon disc.... ladies and gentleworms, without further ado it is my great pleasure to introduce for your earworming pleasure.....

Earworms of the Week - Guest Editor #74 - Ben

My third bite at the Earworms cherry. Thanks for inviting me back, Toni – very kind of you, given that what usually happens is I turn up, wax lyrical about some bands most of your readers have never heard of, drink all your wine, steal all your Twiglets and make off into the night…

10. ‘Bend Over Beethoven’ – !!!

Not happy with choosing a name that makes their albums harder to find in your local record shop than Osama Bin Laden (if that makes sense – I’m not suggesting that the Oxford branch of HMV is the nerve centre of Al-Qaeda’s operations), mischievous gibbons !!! – the commonly agreed pronunciation is “Chk Chk Chk” for ease – here shamelessly steal part of the bassline from The Killers’ ‘Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine’ and the “Don’t stop!” mantra from Junior Senior’s genius pop hit ‘Move Your Feet’ for an eight-minute-long punk-funk odyssey that’ll have you shaking parts of your body you didn’t know you had. Note: I do not condone the necrophilic sodomising of German composers.

9. ‘Sweet Love For Planet Earth’ – Fuck Buttons

Aww! Fuck Buttons – don’t they just sound cute? Don’t you just want to pinch their cheeks and ruffle their hair? And ‘Sweet Love For Planet Earth’ certainly starts off cute – but then the celestial twinkling of the keyboards is buried beneath an avalanche of noise. Truly the loudest thing I’ve ever heard live. I still have no idea how it didn’t blow out the glass wall of the room they were playing in. What’s that? It’s not music? Sorry, I can’t quite hear you…

8. ‘Blue Line Swinger’ – Yo La Tengo

Last time round I’d not long been blown away by my first experience of Yo La Tengo live, but it wasn’t until a couple of months ago that I finally got round to investing in Electr-O-Pura, the 1995 album thought by many to be their best. ‘Blue Line Swinger’ is the luxuriant, sprawling wig-out that brings the record to a close – and it was also the song loudly requested by Tom of Los Campesinos! (there, you knew I couldn’t get through without at least one nod in their direction) at the Cardiff gig immediately after they’d played the equally lengthy and blissfully noisy ‘I Heard You Looking’. Ira Kaplan’s response? “Are you fucking insane?!”

7. ‘Paradise City’ – Guns ‘N’ Roses

Up until last weekend, I’d never seen anyone attempt to breakdance to ‘Paradise City’. That said, it wasn’t really recognisable as such – more like a couple of fully-grown men rolling around on their backs on the floor like oversized, disoriented, very drunk beetles. Seasoned Rock City goers are used to that kind of behaviour, though, so no one batted an eyelid.

6. ‘Red Weather’ – The Duke Spirit

Everyone always bangs on about “that difficult second album”, but an attendant problem is that difficult second set-list. When everything has been pretty much set in stone for maximum tried-and-tested impact, how exactly do you then go about rearranging it, dropping some songs so others can be inserted, rejigging the running order? It’s a problem scuzz-fiends The Duke Spirit are currently grappling with. When they played in Oxford on Monday, traditional set-closer ‘Red Weather’ found itself usurped – but, as if taking on a life beyond the control of those busy playing it, nevertheless asserted itself as the rightful monarch, showing up the songs that followed as mere pretenders to the throne.

5. ‘Mason City’ – The Fiery Furnaces

Last Friday night, I saw The Fiery Furnaces put being rudely snubbed by Birmingham behind them and set about showcasing their brand new album. Over the course of an hour and a half they probably played in the region of fifteen or twenty songs, some mashed up and spliced together. At no point, though, did they play ‘Mason City’. So how on earth did I end up earworming it for days afterwards? These things move in mysterious ways…

4. ‘Johnny Cash’ – Sons & Daughters

Judging by their gig at the same venue a week and a half earlier, Sons & Daughters are going the same way as The Duke Spirit – more “streamlined” and less “rompy”, as the editorial team of Plan B magazine put it in their recent review of new single ‘Gilt Complex’. For all the charms of the new material, with its 60s pop influences, debut single ‘Johnny Cash’ was what people really wanted to hear: the sound of a bar brawl between pissed-up Midwest hillbillies and Glaswegian crackhead punks. On this occasion, they slowed its rambunctious broken-bottle-to-the-neck thrust to slip briefly into ‘I Wanna Be Your Dog’ – an unexpected treat.

3. ‘If You’re Into It’ – Flight Of The Conchords

I’m hardly watching any TV these days, but if I was I’d be taking in a lot more of these two. ‘If You’re Into It’ is a romantic duet / serenade of sorts – with the emphasis on the “of sorts”…

2. ‘Chinese Rocks’ – Johnny Thunders & The Heartbreakers

The DJ at the Duke Spirit gig on Monday seemed to have a CD to play between sets which was comprised of a grand total of five songs. One was Dylan’s ‘Highway 61 Revisited’, another was ‘Doggie Where’s Your Bone’ by The Eagles Of Death Metal – and a third was this gem. Written by Dee Dee Ramone and then-Heartbreaker Richard Hell but made famous by ex-New York Doll Johnny Thunders (much to Dee Dee and Hell’s annoyance), in my book it’s as compelling a piece of evidence as there is for American punk’s superiority over its transatlantic cousin. It’s very openly about smack, of course (that was the reason The Ramones decided not to record it themselves), and is also notable for being one of only two songs I can think of that refers to things being “in hock”. And the other is?

1.‘Sweet Girl’ – Ringo Deathstarr

In many ways youthful Texan quartet Ringo Deathstarr (see what they’ve done there?) are entirely redundant now that both The Jesus & Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine have exhumed themselves. But come now, don’t be so curmudgeonly – you can never have too much of a good thing. Especially when that good thing is screamingly loud blitzkrieg pop and laser-guided shoegazery melodies, brought to British ears by Simon of Spoilt Victorian Child. (There’s no YouTube footage but you can hear snippets of ‘Some Kind Of Sad’ here and ‘Swirly’ here.)

Thanks again for having me back Toni.

---

It's always a pleasure Ben.... especially when I think you may have dropped in a reference to the mighty Jovi in there somewhere. Am I right? Nice. You've also made me think that I haven't been clubbing at Rock City for a long, long time....and I knew there was a reason why. Anyway, thanks for playing. Oh, and you know I was joking about the whole dirge thing, right? Right?

Next week: we'll see.

Have a good weekend y'all.

Incidentally, in spite of the best efforts of my ankle to block the shot.... it went in. Pah.

[Previous Guest Editors: Flash, The Urban Fox, Lord Bargain, Retro-Boy, Statue John, Ben, OLS, Ka, Jenni, Aravis, Yoko, Bee, Charlie, Tom, Di, Spin, The Ultimate Olympian, Damo, Mike, RedOne, The NumNum, Leah, Le Moine Perdu, clm, Michael, Hyde, Adem, Alecya, bytheseashore, adamant, Earworms of the Year 2005, Delrico Bandito, Graham, Lithaborn, Phil, Mark II, Stef, Kaptain Kobold, bedshaped, I have ordinary addictions, TheCatGirlSpeaks, Lord B rides again, Tina, Charlie II, Cody Bones, Poll Star, Jenni II, Martin, Del II, The Eye in the Sky, RussL, Lizzy's Hoax, Ben II, Earworms of the Year 2006, Sarah, Flash II, Erika, Hen, Pynchon, Troubled Diva, Graham II, Cat II, Statue John II, Sweeping the Nation, Aravis II, Olympian II, C, Planet-Me, Mike, Michael II, Eye in the Sky II, Charlie III, The Great Grape Ape, asta]

she calls my name....

--
>>>>>ST's ALPHABETICON - Part xii: L<<<<< Previously in the Alphabeticon: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K

Evening. Welcome to the weekly rundown of "not my whole record collection". As always, this is just a run down through one particularly dusty set of shelves. It's not supposed to be definitive, and it's just for fun kids!

262. Mark Lanegan Band – Bubblegum

I first discovered Mark Lanegan through his work with the Queens of the Stone Age on "Songs for the Deaf" (a brilliant, brilliant album). He's got a fantastically bourbon and cigarette smoke soaked voice, a bit reminiscent of Tom Waits, and very, very distinctive. His work with Screaming Trees and QotSA aside, he's also made a bit of a name for himself in recent years through his solo work and for the (Mercury Music Prize nominated) album that he did with Isobel Campbell. This album made a few "best of the year" type lists back in 2004 (quite right Ben), and it's a very good album indeed.

263. The Libertines – Up The Bracket
264. The Libertines – The Libertines

Well, it's hard to argue with one of their own lyrics, isn't it:

"What a waster, what a fucking waster
You pissed it all up the wall"

Over the course of these two records, Pete Docherty and Carl Barat showed that they had some talent. Unfortunately, they blew it and hit the self-destruct button amidst burglaries, recriminations and drug addiction. Pete Docherty is hailed in some quarters as a genius, and presumably his claim to greatness is largely contained on these albums. Well, if that's the case, then I think he's somewhat overbilled..... there's some good stuff on here, but there's also a lot of shit. They were hardly The Smiths, were they? They were a good band, but not half as good or as important as some people (not least the band themselves) would have you believe. They've actually just put out a Greatest Hits album... and amidst the great moments, there's still some filler. As claims to greatness go, this one is just too thin (not to mention the minus points Docherty gets for his subsequent career as a staple of the tabloid press).

265. Led Zeppelin – Remasters

I used to have a load of Zeppelin albums on cassette, but this is the only one that I ever bought on CD (and this is a replacement, as my original copy was stolen when I was still at school). They're very much in the news at the moment, of course, and they are credited with pretty much inventing heavy metal and hard rock.... but I can't help but feel that they're a bit overrated. They're good enough, I suppose (and the "Immigrant Song" is one of my favourite songs ever), but I find their pastoral stuff very hit and miss indeed, and I'm now just bored by "Stairway". Good band though, and Robert Plant is a Wolves fan, so you have to give them credit for that.

266. Lemonheads – It’s a Shame About Ray

I saw the Lemonheads performing at Glastonbury in 1993 and I thought they were great. I think Evan Dando was off his tits and they didn't play "Mrs Robinson", their biggest hit at the time, but they did play an amazing cover of Suzanne Vega's "Luka" and were certainly the best thing that I saw on the second stage that Sunday afternoon (a lineup that included the Verve and, erm, Dodgy). This album is stupidly short, and it sounds a bit "of its time" now... but it sounded great back then. And Dando was supposedly stepping out with Juliana Hatfield too, the lucky bastard.... Mind you, wasn't she famously still a virgin? Perhaps he hadn't been so lucky then?

267.Love/Hate – Blackout in a Red Room
268. Love/Hate – Wasted in America

Wow. This is one from the depths of my lost teenage heavy metal years. I don't remember very much about the band except that I thought they were brilliant, and had one unforgettable song called "Don't Fuck With Me":

"Don't fuck with me 'cause I don't look like you
We can be brothers and wear our different colors too
Don't fuck with me and I won't fuck with you"

Beautiful sentiments, I think you'll agree. And how's this as a motto for life:

"Do unto others as you'd have others do unto you.
Don't fuck with me, and I won't fuck with you.
Yeah."

Me and my friend Des thought they were ace. If he didn't live in Hong Kong, I'd probably drag him all the way to the Rescue Rooms for the Love / Hate reunion in December.....

269. Leftfield – Leftism

I can't really tell you much about this as I've barely listened to it since I lived in a flat on campus at the University of Warwick and a chap called Dominic used to play it all the time. I think it's quite good. Well, it sounded it back then, anyway.

270. The Las – The Las

Ah, the great lost band of the 1990s. "There She Goes" is timeless, of course, but the rest of the album holds water too. It was one of the great moment of Glastonbury in 2005 when I got to see this lot performing live. They played their biggest hit about halfway through the set, so all those floods of people turning up at the very end just to hear the encore must have been very disappointed indeed. Against all the odds, they still sounded brilliant. You wouldn't want to be in Lee Mavers' head though.

271. Ray Lamontagne – Trouble
272. Ray Lamontagne - Till The Sun Turns Black

Big beard, big voice. I first saw him on Jools Holland, I think, and was intrigued enough to check out the album. The second album is even better. It's a good voice. A great big, booming voice. But it's quite a splendid beard too. Do I have to decide? Can't I have both?

273. Long Blondes – Someone To Drive You Home

Kate Jackson wears a mean beret, I know that much.

274. Lush – Ciao!

Worth it just to hear "Ladykillers", which I think may be one of my favourite ever songs.

Lost in iTunes: Los Campesinos!, Low, Lucky Soul, Lulu, Lynyrd Skynyrd

Next time: Morrissey! Oh yes, a lot of Morrissey.....

---

Shuffleathon 2007 Update

Right, come on now. If you haven't yet sent out your CD, then please pull your finger out and get it in the post as soon as possible. If you sent your CD a while ago and it looks like it hasn't been received, then we need to start thinking about re-sends. Likewise, if you have received your CD and haven't yet reviewed it or perhaps even told me that you've got it..... well.... Don't make me come over there....

Shuffler	Posted	Received
1. Tina	yes	review
2. Sarah	yes
3. Cody Bones	yes	yes
4. Mark	yes	review
5. Michael	yes	yes
6. Hen	yes	yes
7. Cat	yes	review
8. bedshaped	yes	posted
9. Pynchon	yes	review
10. J	yes	review
11. The Great Grape Ape	yes	review
12. Ian	yes	review (sorry)
13. Martin
14. Monogodo	yes	yes
15. Threelight	yes	review
16. Paul	yes	review
17. Charlie	yes	review
18. LB	yes
19. Katyola	yes	review
20. Lisa	yes	review
21. Graham	yes?
22. Del	yes	review
23. Spins	yes
24. Ben	yes
25. Dragon	yes	yes
26. Adem	yes	review
27. Mike	yes	review
28. JoeInVegas	yes	yes
29. Wombat	yes
30. Max Bob	yes	review
31. Stevious	yes	review
32. Asta	yes	review
33. Alan	yes	review
34. Russ L	yes	review
35. E.	yes
36. Mike T-D	yes	yes
37. JamieS	yes
38. Briskate	yes	review
38. Me	yes	review

Big hello to YokoSpungeon and equally big thanks for the whole original Shuffleathon concept.....

beautiful and trivial and baby just out of reach...

Cherry Ghost @ Rescue Rooms, 21st November 2007

I had a splendid pie at the Keane's Head before heading up to the Rescue Rooms, but once again, we still arrive at the venue early enough to catch the entire act by the support band. I'm not sure that they're ever going to be as big as U2, but Tacks, The Boy Wonder aren't bad. Cherry Ghost are apparently very big on Radio Two, and they appear to have attracted that kind of a crowd, with a lot of comfortable looking people attending their first gig of the year and apparently believing that this meant they had some kind of a divine right to push to the front to get a better view. I don't think that this kind of an audience likes loud music, and Tacks, The Boy Wonder (stupid, unwieldy name and all) are probably right up their street as they are very, very mild sounding. They are from America somewhere and are fronted by a very preppy looking Matthew Modine-alike on keyboards, although the rest of the band looking a touch like a care in the community project. They remind me slightly of a not-quite-as-good Thirteen Senses and they don't really hold my attention, but they seem to go down well enough and make enough of an impression on Sarah that she splashed out a fiver on their CD. They seemed pleased to be there, anyway.

I can't remember what I paid for the Cherry Ghost album, "Thirst for Romance", but whatever it was, it was worth every penny. Without a shadow of a doubt, this is one of my favourite records of the year and it's a gig that I've been very much looking forward to.

Cherry Ghost are, from what I can work out, Simon Aldred and some other blokes. Aldred is a year younger than me, but he looks and he sounds like he's at least ten years older. I've heard the band compared to Coldplay, usually off the back of the single "People Help the People", but for me the comparison is off the mark. Aldred has an amazing voice that's far deeper and richer than anything that Chris Martin could manage. Lyrically he often deals with much darker and more adventurous territory than Coldplay (who, let's be perfectly honest, never really stray very far from vaguely chuntering on about how things are broken and can't be fixed). They certainly get off to a brilliant start by having a warm-up tape that includes both Johnny Cash and Scott Walker, which I suppose makes perfect sense when you read on their MySpace page that they are "inspired by the haunting melancholy of acts such as Sparklehorse, Smog, Johnny Cash and the ceaseless hope to be found at the heart of this Northern landscape". Hen and LB are convinced that Cherry Ghost sound like Johnny Cash, but I don't hear it. Certainly, a few of the numbers have a country twang to them, but although his voice is deep and rich, I don't think Aldred sounds like Cash at all - although to be fair, perhaps we should reassess the situation when he's in his 80s and not in his 30s. I'm not sure who he does sound like though; there are elements of both Cash and Walker, but he probably ultimately lacks the gravitas of either. He sounds good, anyway, and right from the very first song, it is clear that this is Cherry Ghost's most potent weapon.

All the more of a shame, then, that the guitarist -- who, with his pinched cheeks and tiny pencil moustache, looks like a refugee from Sparks -- keeps turning to the sound engineer and pointing to the ceiling, indicating that he wants his guitar turned up. The end result of this is that, as the gig progresses, Aldred's voice slowly disappears further and further down the mix. When coupled with some material that is notably rockier than the stuff on their album, on some songs you can barely hear Aldred at all. He's a good guitarist, sure, but he's not so good that I would rather listen to him than to his singer. I don't know what Aldred's motives are for hiding himself behind the banner of a band rather than performing as a solo artist, but if his comfort in the democracy of numbers means that he allows his guitarist to drown out the singing, then on the whole I think that's a bad thing. On the plus side though, the band have one of those fantastically entertaining drummers who looks as though he lives and dies through the course of every single song, either shouting along to the lyrics (without a microphone) or simply just making "ba doom doom bam tch" type noises as he plays. Brilliant. I could watch drummers like this all day long. The last drummer I saw that was half as entertaining as this was the guy from Cast (although, really, how hard is it to be the most entertaining thing in Cast?).



It was a decent set. The songs are good and they were played well. There's a bit of fiddling around between (and sometimes during) each song as the band muck about with their tunings and swap guitars. Given that they pay roadies to tune up their guitars and set up their equipment for them, I wonder whether perhaps they might need some new roadies... but it doesn't really detract from my enjoyment of the songs. I do wish that Aldred would say more between each song than "Thank you. Cheers." I don't expect him to engage in a monologue, but it's quite nice when a band take the trouble to talk to the band properly. The most he says in the whole set is when he spots someone in the front who he clearly knows and hasn't seen in ages. They have a quick conversation (off microphone, but clearly audible) until Aldred gestures at the rest of the crowd, patiently awaiting the next song, and says that he can't stop to chat now as he has other things to do. It's a shame, in that little snippet of conversation, he sounded like a really amiable guy. I just wish he'd talked to us a bit more.

It's a weird crowd too. Being on the Radio Two playlist is probably great for sales, but it also seems to mean that the average age of the crowd at your gigs is quite a lot older than you might have expected. There's a surprising lack of gig manners too, and a lack of understanding of the basic principles of body space. One couple arrive as the support are playing, march their way to the front and peer at the stage, only to realise that this isn't Cherry Ghost, turn on their heels and march back out again. Thanks for that, grandad. The gig isn't sold out, and I don't really see why people need to push their way up to the front and then stand on my toes. The couple right in front of me seem nice enough, but they are standing so close to me that when the girl reaches round her boyfriends back to rest her hand around his waist, she is also inadvertantly resting it on my crotch. Under other circumstances this might be great, but to be honest I was trying to watch the band. Things got worse too, when a visit to the bar meant that she swapped places with her boyfriend, and I now had him pressing up against me. Not good. I was also a touch confused when so many people left before the end of the set. They didn't just leave before the encore, they left before the last notes of the last song of the main set had finished. I don't understand people who leave any gigs early, but it's not as though the three or four hundred people in the Rescue Rooms tonight are going to put all that much pressure on the car parks, is it? These people miss the band's return to play "People Help the People" and a cover of Amy Winehouse's "Back to Black". The latter does nothing for me (I love the original), but it's a good way to finish.

I know it sounds like I hated every last minute of this.... but really I didn't. It was a perfectly good night out. I'm just a touch disappointed because it's a record that I love and I was hoping for better.

Verdict: 6.5 / 10

hot, hot, hot, hot stuff....

I quite like this time of year. I know that it always seems to be dark, miserable and wet, but even in a horrible stormy week like this one, you sometimes get those beautiful clear, crisp days that really seem to lift the spirit. The sun didn't quite make it out through the clouds today, and it wasn't frosty, but it was still a nice enough afternoon. Certainly nice enough that I took the opportunity to escape from my desk to go for a run, anyway.

I took my normal route out along the canal and back along the river, and as I headed back into the changing rooms, I was very much looking forward to my lunch. The changing rooms were now quite a lot busier than before, filled mostly with guys who had been working out in the on-site gym. I've been running at work now for a couple of years, and I've got to know some of the faces quite well: there's the funny looking guy who is pretty ripped and who clearly looks after his body but who never, ever showers.... preferring to get straight out of his gym kit and into his suit; there are the two older guys who are probably both in their sixties but still go running about three times a week; there are the two miserable looking chaps who spend the whole time they are getting changed arguing whose turn it is to buy lunch. None of this lot were in the changing room today. Instead, I was treated to the hardcore gym-bunnies: these are the guys who spend a lot of time in the changing rooms drinking protein shakes and discussing their various exercise programmes at great length.

"Yeah, I've had a 5% dip in performance, but I don't think that's too bad for the first session back after a two week holiday."
"Yeah? Not bad, not bad at all. I've been working on some gluteus presses at olympian intensity in supersized squat intervals."
"Sweet. What did you do?"
"About 1231. Funny thing is that the machine told me that this only just put me into the demi god category!"
"What? What the hell does that make most of the lard arses sat at their desks?"
"Yeah, exactly.
"Exactly".

What is it about men and their constant need to talk utter rubbish whilst simultaneously comparing the length of their genitalia? Why can they not just exercise and be done with it? Working out in the gym is not a competitive sport, is it? Am I missing out on something by going running on my own? The thing that amuses me the most, I think, is that none of these guys is particularly well-conditioned. They are just 40-something year old blokes with paunches and silly fingerless weightlifting gloves.

They appear to have a project: a new guy joined their team a few weeks ago, and they have clearly managed to talk him into coming down to the gym with them. He's a fairly normal looking guy. He's not fat or anything, but he's perhaps let himself go a bit in the last few years and is trying to put a stop to that incipient middle-aged spread. The gym boys have got him on a programme. When I first saw the new guy with them in the changing rooms, they were talking him through his first 5km run on the treadmill and asking him how he felt. Knackered, by the looks of him, but in a hurry to get off to a meeting. Once he had gone, the gym boys discussed their pupil:

"What did he do again?"
"35:23"
"35:23? Bloody hell"
"Yeah, but first time"
"Fair enough. How old is he?"
"About 43. He's in reasonable shape, I suppose, but he's what? 95 kilos? He's carrying a bit of weight"
"Yeah"
"Once he works that off, his performance will really hit the up-curve"

...and so on.

I suppose their intentions are good and -- bless him -- he's as keen as mustard, but I can't quite get over the fact that these chubby, middle-aged guys are offering another chubby, middle-aged guy the benefit of their dubious experience and expertise over a completely superfluous protein shake after a short workout. Haven't you had enough calories?? Do you really think you need more?? What's for lunch??

Not long after I had arrived back into the changing rooms today, I was joined by their protégé. He looked dead on his feet. Absolutely dead. He sat down on the bench, and put his head between his knees trying to catch his breath. About five minutes later, he was joined by his advisors:

"You alright?"
"Yeah."
"Sure?"
"Yeah. Just tired. That was hard. How many more did you do?"
"Oh, only another 345"
"345? Really? Christ."
"Yeah. But I've done more before. I usually do more"
"Yeah?"

etc.

Jesus Christ. Get a room so you can compare properly, why don't you?

As if that wasn't enough excitement for one day, Darren was also in the changing rooms today. You might remember Darren as the guy who insisted on engaging me in conversation whilst he was stark bollock naked.

He topped that today.

When I first came in to get changed, he tried to make small talk with me whilst he was wearing the most ridiculously skimpy pair of running shorts I have ever seen. That was bad enough, but when I came back in from my run a bit later, he was just on his way to the shower and decided this was a great time -- naked, of course -- to exchange a few words with me. To complete the set, he then decided to wander across the room for a chat after I'd had my shower. Not only was I only wearing a towel and wanting to get dry and back to my desk, but he was also wearing nothing but a really tiny pair of pants and a winning smile. A really tiny pair of pants.

Tiny.

Three great looks, I think you'll agree. Sadly, every time I shut my eyes, I now find one of those three unforgettable images of Darren burned onto my retina.

Brilliant.

I think he waxes his chest.

we gotta take the power back.....

I hate office politics.

I'm not that big on the office full stop, but I certainly can't be doing with those people who play games. I go to work, I do the best that I can and then I go home. On the whole, I like to think that people are essentially decent and honest and that very few will actually go out of their way to deliberately do somebody else down so that they can get ahead. Perhaps I'm being naive, but it's certainly the way I try and behave when I'm in the office: treat other people as you would wish to be treated yourself. There will be times when you disagree with people and when people have perhaps messed things up, but I don't think anybody gains anything by slinging mud and stabbing people in the back. We are where we are, so let's all just get on with it, eh?

I'm working on a massive, multi-gabillion pound merger at the moment, and inevitably the whole project is a nest of snakes jockeying for position, from the king cobras all the way down to the adders. I try to stay out of this as much as possible, but over the last few weeks I have found myself in a position where I think that someone is trying to build up their own position at my expense. He's a nice enough chap, I suppose, but I first thought he was up to something when he decided to take the opportunity in a very public forum to tell me that "technically, if you look at the organogram, you work for me...". It was nonsense, of course, and he was smiling when he said it, but he was very clearly trying to flex his muscles and exert authority over me. I ignored him. I needed nothing from him and was utterly disinterested in getting involved in a pissing contest with him.

Ignoring him didn't work though: he didn't go away and he kept on niggling away and trying to score points and shift accountabilities and stupid, petty things like that. All of this started to come to a head at the end of last week when I presented a plan of how to move forwards with one particular set of systems. I'm an expert in this system. It is my key accountability. I understand the business priorities and had proposed a way that we could deliver what they needed in the timescales they needed it.

My plan was poo-pooed. At first I took a deep breath and took the trouble to run him through the proposal in person, carefully answering all his questions and listening to his concerns. I thought we had made some real progress and were finally pulling in the same direction..... and then he got back to his office and fired out an email, copying in everyone naturally, pulling apart my proposal and raising all kinds of phantom issues. It made me angry because I'm not trying to play games here; I'm not trying to position myself. I'm simply trying to move things forwards as best I can. I neither need nor deserve to be slapped down like a child by someone who hasn't even troubled themselves to understand the issues.

Right. You've asked for this.



I have spent all day today working my way around the key stakeholders and business sponsors of this project. Using only careful, rational language, I have explained why my proposal is the only sane way forwards and how it will meet their key requirements. I have not spent my time running this other guy down - only taking people through what I genuinely believe is the best way forwards. Because I have spent a lot of time working on this over the last two years, I am in a position where I know this system, I know the business requirements and objectives and I know the key decision makers. This numbnuts who is trying to play politics with me does not know any of these things. He does not even have a credible alternative suggestion as to how we might proceed.

In short, he has it coming.

He's travelling up to my office tomorrow to deliver what he thinks will be the coup de grace.

My prediction? My prediction is PAIN.