Just to round off, here's a bit about five sitcoms that could only have worked in the UK, and what happened when the US version inevitably came out.
Red Dwarf - Now we all know how much I adored this programme once upon a time; that's why I still can't bring myself to watch much of the material rescued from the TWO pilots commissioned in America. Even the UK's eighth series was better than this shite. Lister, handsome and determined? Rimmer, charming and personable? The Cat, a woman? Holly...Daphne from hit US sitcom Frasier?
(It's obvious that the producers hadn't bothered watching/understanding the first few episodes, in which Holly looked and sounded like a man, and Rimmer generally acted like a prick because, among other things, he felt guilty about killing off the whole crew. They didn't seem to understand that the events leading up to where the sitcom begins proper are the most vital things for an audience to know.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UROGsAUGBY8 - I'm so sorry.
Coupling - Touted by NBC as 'the new Friends' (but not by its original creator, Steven Moffat, who 'begged' them not to make such strong claims), the US version of Coupling is completely watered down simply because most of its source material is flat-out dirty; the censors didn't like it, neither did viewers of the mangled-clean efforts. Coupling managed to air a full four times before being cancelled in time for Sweeps Week. On a (mostly) unrelated note, I fucking HATE Rena Sofer; unless every single director she's ever worked with told her to stick to her strengths of mumbling and pouting, she just comes off as wooden and fake as the set she's working on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XmFG8kNoY44 - This is a side-by-side comparison of scenes from each country's first episode. I barely got through the first American one alive. Again, I'm so sorry.
The Office - Once in the bluest of moons, you take an average stare-at-the-floor production like the British Office, and turn it into something that's actually as great as The Office: An American Workplace. The key to its success lies in the very mundanity of its subject matter; while gags about having no hazelnuts in your Topic bar can only work on so many levels, it's common knowledge in the Western world that working in an office is rubbish, so the translation to another audience should be easy enough.
Credit has to go to star Steve Carell, who allegedly stopped watching the British version as soon as he'd heard he landed the role of Michael Scott because he was afraid of copying the original character too much. The programme was developed for an American audience by Greg Daniels, formerly of The Simpsons and King of the Hill; thus ensuring that an adaptation was in creatively good hands.
No preview, just buy the DVDs.
Little Britain USA - Too lazy even to bother calling it something that makes sense, this programme was quite probably wankery of the highest order. (Yeah, I've never seen it, and I never intend to either.) I'm appalled that this is the programme that made Lucas and Walliams household names; their appearances in things like Shooting Stars were always more memorable to me. It's shit like this that amazes me when it gets remade for another audience; then again it's probably because it's such lowbrow comedy that so many people can relate to it. Snobby I know, but fuck you.
No preview. I just can't bring myself to look for one. You'll have seen them on ten different adverts by the time you read this.
Spaced - Didn't actually get made, thank christ. When announced by the Yanks as a Pegg & Wright-approved venture, and then immediately derided by said co-creators Pegg & Wright (though co-creator Jessica Hynes was criminally overlooked), fans breathed a huge sigh of relief. As Edgar Wright described a producer's take on Spaced US, "'Yeah, we'd have to change a few things. We'd have to take out the drugs and the swearing, and obviously, Mike can't have guns;'" making those changes would be akin to setting Porridge on the naughty step rather than a prison. It's the coming together of the little things that make any sitcom a success, not just the same title, character names and accents. The sooner the thieving Americans get that, the sooner we'll see some high-quality original output.
And who am I to say that we can do remakes better than the Americans can do originals? The Upper Hand, anyone?
Sunday, 1 August 2010
“Hello, I.T. Have you tried recasting for an American audience?” (aka why are US remakes of British sitcoms so shit?)
I was sent this link the other day. Have a quick look.
OK, how long did you last before clicking off in disgust? Three minutes? Two? You’re still a better man (or woman) than I. I hate when this sort of thing happens; British programme becomes successful. American producers get a whiff of it and, rather than just screen the programme as is, they “re-tool” it for their own audience. End result: unwatchable rubbish, and damage to the reputation of the creator who lets it happen in the first place.
I was also unlucky enough to read about a new sitcom airing on BBC Two later this year. Episodes was created by David Crane (Friends, obviously) and Jeffrey Klarik (Mad About You) so at this point we ought to be on pretty good ground.
Oh, wait. Further reading concludes that it’s not really a sitcom in the traditional sense (see Friends and Mad About You); rather one of these cool new post-modern ones where someone inadvertently does or says something really controversial at the end, and people stare silently at their own shoes for three full minutes afterwards (see Extras and Curb Your Enthusiasm). It’s also co-created by the Showtime Channel, which means that any actual plot will simply be replaced with swearing to save time and money.
Oh, and looking at the cast I can see that we’re really onto a winner. TV’s own Matt LeBlanc plays himself (meaning we’ll be showered with references to past success, just in case we haven’t happened to catch a repeat of Friends on E4 in the last fifteen minutes), and is unably backed by that curly-haired wanker from Green Wing (and I genuinely have to look up his name here, because that’s all I know him as), Stephen Mangan.
In an ultimate twist of post-modernism, the programme is completely focused on the subject of ‘why US producers bother to remake UK sitcoms’; a process which I find to be a fucking annoyance anyway, so why try and make a sitcom from it? It’s like sitting through a film on DVD that you absolutely hate, and then flicking over to the Making Of documentary afterwards.
The main difference that I can see between American sitcoms and their superior British counterparts is the sense of authorship: while writers like Graham Linehan and Armstrong & Bain spend upwards of six months crafting storylines, structures and characters for as few as six quality episodes, an American producer will sit down twice a week with ten or twelve different writers, who will contribute to generic set-ups in scripts, which are shot weekly between something like September and April. While Roy from (the UK’s) The IT Crowd is written by one man who knows his likes and dislikes (as, apparently, Linehan lined himself up to play the part at one point), an American character might well behave differently week by week because they’re written differently and as such, less believably. It’s a consistency that’s lacking in the US programmes because they’re reeled off the production line faster than you can say “have you tried turning it off and on again?”
The lesson? Taking only the bare essentials of a British sitcom, and leaving out all the little nuances like delivery or visual gags woven into the pace of the script, does not guarantee a successful translation to an American audience. If it really has to be done, it should be done a lot more faithfully; adhering much more closely to the original material. If an American audience doesn’t find it funny, well then I think that should be taken as a sign.
OK, how long did you last before clicking off in disgust? Three minutes? Two? You’re still a better man (or woman) than I. I hate when this sort of thing happens; British programme becomes successful. American producers get a whiff of it and, rather than just screen the programme as is, they “re-tool” it for their own audience. End result: unwatchable rubbish, and damage to the reputation of the creator who lets it happen in the first place.
I was also unlucky enough to read about a new sitcom airing on BBC Two later this year. Episodes was created by David Crane (Friends, obviously) and Jeffrey Klarik (Mad About You) so at this point we ought to be on pretty good ground.
Oh, wait. Further reading concludes that it’s not really a sitcom in the traditional sense (see Friends and Mad About You); rather one of these cool new post-modern ones where someone inadvertently does or says something really controversial at the end, and people stare silently at their own shoes for three full minutes afterwards (see Extras and Curb Your Enthusiasm). It’s also co-created by the Showtime Channel, which means that any actual plot will simply be replaced with swearing to save time and money.
Oh, and looking at the cast I can see that we’re really onto a winner. TV’s own Matt LeBlanc plays himself (meaning we’ll be showered with references to past success, just in case we haven’t happened to catch a repeat of Friends on E4 in the last fifteen minutes), and is unably backed by that curly-haired wanker from Green Wing (and I genuinely have to look up his name here, because that’s all I know him as), Stephen Mangan.
In an ultimate twist of post-modernism, the programme is completely focused on the subject of ‘why US producers bother to remake UK sitcoms’; a process which I find to be a fucking annoyance anyway, so why try and make a sitcom from it? It’s like sitting through a film on DVD that you absolutely hate, and then flicking over to the Making Of documentary afterwards.
The main difference that I can see between American sitcoms and their superior British counterparts is the sense of authorship: while writers like Graham Linehan and Armstrong & Bain spend upwards of six months crafting storylines, structures and characters for as few as six quality episodes, an American producer will sit down twice a week with ten or twelve different writers, who will contribute to generic set-ups in scripts, which are shot weekly between something like September and April. While Roy from (the UK’s) The IT Crowd is written by one man who knows his likes and dislikes (as, apparently, Linehan lined himself up to play the part at one point), an American character might well behave differently week by week because they’re written differently and as such, less believably. It’s a consistency that’s lacking in the US programmes because they’re reeled off the production line faster than you can say “have you tried turning it off and on again?”
The lesson? Taking only the bare essentials of a British sitcom, and leaving out all the little nuances like delivery or visual gags woven into the pace of the script, does not guarantee a successful translation to an American audience. If it really has to be done, it should be done a lot more faithfully; adhering much more closely to the original material. If an American audience doesn’t find it funny, well then I think that should be taken as a sign.
Friday, 5 March 2010
This Blog Post Is Brought To You By An Extreme Distaste For Product Placement
It’s an extreme example, I’ll grant you, but without proper regulation and tight creative control, this sort of thing could one day happen on British television thanks to the government’s U-turn on a ‘product placement’ policy. Later this year TV chiefs will allow the usage and display of products and brands within their programming content as well as during its breaks. Admittedly it’ll be a much-needed cash injection for the commercial TV industry but I really can’t help wondering what effect it will have on the quality of the programming itself. Actually, I think I know exactly what effect it will have. My real question is how bad the effect will be.
It’s already started seeping into British programmes; I seem to recall watching Harry Hill holding a tin of ravioli up to camera just a second longer than he needed to before pouring its contents into a bowl on TV Burp a few weeks back. And on the very next episode he was parodying a docu-soap subject’s job at an ice cream factory by dropping a product’s name repeatedly throughout the item. I suppose now that the legislation is due, the producers can already try and make a cheeky few bob without pissing too many people off in the process; though as light, fluffy and throwaway as this programme is I couldn’t help but feel a little cheapened by these efforts, which makes me wonder how bad it’ll be when more heavyweight programmes try to get away with it.
One has to watch just a couple of America’s current hit shows to get a taste of things to come. Consider for example, the weekly knockout blow to international diplomacy that is 24. No matter how many cars Jack Bauer steals from dead guys, or jacks from innocent bystanders, every single one seems to be the same make and model. And just to clarify that only good guys drive Fords, whenever a van full of terrorists pulls up they don’t see the need to shove its badge in viewers’ faces. Stranger to me than what cars were driven by whom, not to mention a fuck-sight more terrifying, was from where the government and its agents got their information. Whenever an explosion or outbreak or weird Middle Eastern accent was being reported on, only one name ever flashed up – Fox News.
Other programmes like Desperate Housewives and House do the same thing, though only the latter has any real reason to; it’s much more likely that you’ll want to know who supplied the cool MRI scanner rather than who did Teri Hatcher’s hair. Each of these programmes comes with a credit ‘Promotional consideration furnished by’ which, to be fair, does sound slightly more reputable than ‘The following are companies that gave us money’. Credible credits or not, it does nothing to allay my fears of an all-out assault on viewers’ wallets come 2011.
Peter Bazalgette, the man who brought you such quality programmes as Big Brother, and such unwatchable shite as Big Brothers 2 to 10, says that this decision is "hugely overdue”. I think that what he means by that is “maybe if I change the name of ‘the Diary Room’ to ‘The Snickers Diary Room’ I’ll be allowed to do another five series.”
"But you have to trust the consumer,” he warns. “If it's overdone or tasteless, viewers will switch off.” I assume he was still talking about the ads there, and not the 473 separate boob-flashes from desperate wannabe Nuts models he recruits every summer.
"And what about those sports events where sponsors' logos are worn on shirts?” he continued, pointlessly. “Product placement won't dramatically change the way we watch TV." No, not by sticking an average-size logo on a shirt during a real-life event it won’t, but possibly by adding commentary crediting a Wayne Rooney hat-trick to “the long-lasting freshness of Orbit gum” it might sour the viewer-advertiser relationship a bit.
And that’s what the whole thing’s about, really. With the advent of digital TV recorders, some of us no longer have to sit through the ad breaks, though it’s not as if you have to remain rooted to the couch if you’re unlucky enough to own a regular old Freeview box. Advertising revenue needs to come in somehow, and it seems that outside of yet another 12 hours’ Teleshopping per week on their digital offshoot stations, the main five channels must fight to claw back what they’re losing on the salaries of wankers like Simon Cowell, Jonathan Ross and, er, Robson Green.
Luckily, and because we can’t be trusted to retain our bladder contents in the presence of shiny things during programmes, producers have suggested a small warning box to appear onscreen during their placements, as well as a spoken warning before and after every break in the occurrence of such a name-drop/shiny-thing-flash. So don’t worry Britain, the universe hasn’t gone to shit just yet; we can still be depended upon to buy what we’re told in spite of all technological and cultural advances to the contrary.
It’s already started seeping into British programmes; I seem to recall watching Harry Hill holding a tin of ravioli up to camera just a second longer than he needed to before pouring its contents into a bowl on TV Burp a few weeks back. And on the very next episode he was parodying a docu-soap subject’s job at an ice cream factory by dropping a product’s name repeatedly throughout the item. I suppose now that the legislation is due, the producers can already try and make a cheeky few bob without pissing too many people off in the process; though as light, fluffy and throwaway as this programme is I couldn’t help but feel a little cheapened by these efforts, which makes me wonder how bad it’ll be when more heavyweight programmes try to get away with it.
One has to watch just a couple of America’s current hit shows to get a taste of things to come. Consider for example, the weekly knockout blow to international diplomacy that is 24. No matter how many cars Jack Bauer steals from dead guys, or jacks from innocent bystanders, every single one seems to be the same make and model. And just to clarify that only good guys drive Fords, whenever a van full of terrorists pulls up they don’t see the need to shove its badge in viewers’ faces. Stranger to me than what cars were driven by whom, not to mention a fuck-sight more terrifying, was from where the government and its agents got their information. Whenever an explosion or outbreak or weird Middle Eastern accent was being reported on, only one name ever flashed up – Fox News.
Other programmes like Desperate Housewives and House do the same thing, though only the latter has any real reason to; it’s much more likely that you’ll want to know who supplied the cool MRI scanner rather than who did Teri Hatcher’s hair. Each of these programmes comes with a credit ‘Promotional consideration furnished by’ which, to be fair, does sound slightly more reputable than ‘The following are companies that gave us money’. Credible credits or not, it does nothing to allay my fears of an all-out assault on viewers’ wallets come 2011.
Peter Bazalgette, the man who brought you such quality programmes as Big Brother, and such unwatchable shite as Big Brothers 2 to 10, says that this decision is "hugely overdue”. I think that what he means by that is “maybe if I change the name of ‘the Diary Room’ to ‘The Snickers Diary Room’ I’ll be allowed to do another five series.”
"But you have to trust the consumer,” he warns. “If it's overdone or tasteless, viewers will switch off.” I assume he was still talking about the ads there, and not the 473 separate boob-flashes from desperate wannabe Nuts models he recruits every summer.
"And what about those sports events where sponsors' logos are worn on shirts?” he continued, pointlessly. “Product placement won't dramatically change the way we watch TV." No, not by sticking an average-size logo on a shirt during a real-life event it won’t, but possibly by adding commentary crediting a Wayne Rooney hat-trick to “the long-lasting freshness of Orbit gum” it might sour the viewer-advertiser relationship a bit.
And that’s what the whole thing’s about, really. With the advent of digital TV recorders, some of us no longer have to sit through the ad breaks, though it’s not as if you have to remain rooted to the couch if you’re unlucky enough to own a regular old Freeview box. Advertising revenue needs to come in somehow, and it seems that outside of yet another 12 hours’ Teleshopping per week on their digital offshoot stations, the main five channels must fight to claw back what they’re losing on the salaries of wankers like Simon Cowell, Jonathan Ross and, er, Robson Green.
Luckily, and because we can’t be trusted to retain our bladder contents in the presence of shiny things during programmes, producers have suggested a small warning box to appear onscreen during their placements, as well as a spoken warning before and after every break in the occurrence of such a name-drop/shiny-thing-flash. So don’t worry Britain, the universe hasn’t gone to shit just yet; we can still be depended upon to buy what we’re told in spite of all technological and cultural advances to the contrary.
Sunday, 7 February 2010
on why Vanilla Ice is a joke (aka covers v originals)
Now I’ll be straight with you, Monocle-wearers; I could be one of those bloggers who, upon finally getting a job after a long time of sitting about playing Smackdown vs Raw in his underwear, tells you that things won’t change regarding the regularity of my posts. The truth is, they definitely won’t because they’ll be as bloody sporadic as they always were.
And so, in such a way as to reflect my new jet-setting lifestyle, I did the only thing possible to draw inspiration for a new post: a quick survey of my Facebook friends. After hearing Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral for only the third or fourth time (I quite like it, but The Fragile pisses all over it), it struck me that I preferred the Johnny Cash cover version of ‘Hurt’ over Trent Reznor’s original. I asked my online brethren of any other cover versions they preferred to their originals, and here are a few of our answers, analysed in my unique yet fucking lazy style.
The cast of Glee – Don’t Stop Believin’ (Journey)
As good a place to start as any, though as I write, the letters on my keyboard are being rapidly obscured by rivers of vomit so it’ll make the rest of this post quite tricky to write. I reckon that the resurgence of this song on both sides of the Atlantic can be blamed on Scrubs and The X Factor; and the original’s a pretty big hit on the jukebox of my pub of choice too. Cheesy as hell and therefore a natural choice for the surprise hit TV series Glee, which centres around a high school music club and its members’ struggles to fit in (I’m guessing). It’s also played on Radio One at least 750 times a day, which explains my dramatic increase in cig breaks at work.
Reel Big Fish – Take On Me (a-ha)
What is it about the genre of ska-punk that makes its artists think that it’s okay to butcher songs from the 1980s? Since when does a trumpet make a good synth substitute? You’re best off asking these wankers. I mean, they do a decent job and all that (certainly better than most half-arsed ska-punk covers I’ve ever heard, and that means YOU, Save Ferris) and you can tell that they mean well but, there’s just something so grubby about the whole operation. There’s so many of these sorts of covers out there, you’d be forgiven for thinking that the whole ska-punk scene was invented just to throw a few more royalties at starving one-hit wonders. Added bonus: a crappy video specially made on the set of Baseketball, which just about saves them by turning out to be a bloody good film (and an excellent segue from the part about Journey – “Steeeeve Perry!”)
Queens of the Stone Age - Everybody's Gonna Be Happy (The Kinks)
Apart from Don’t Stop Vomitin’, this is just about the straightest rework of the lot, which to be honest is a bit pointless for your average cover-lover. (Though luckily they don’t see the need to throw in any trumpet.) It’s fair enough though just to pay homage to The Kinks, as they did on a previous occasion with ‘Who’ll Be The Next In Line’ but it just seems to my ear like Queens just didn’t try hard enough to stamp their own watermark on it; maybe if they’d let Nick Oliveri do a bit of screaming over the chorus it’d satisfy a bit more. (They’re really missing him these days; if he were to return I’d be happy to drop my ‘No Fucking Reunions’ rule this once.)
The Ramones - I don't wanna grow up (Tom Waits/Kathleen Brennan)
I’ve just this minute learned that Tom Waits wrote this song, and not The Ramones. You learn something new every caffeine-fuelled and nicotine-choked night, eh? Waits made his name by starting out just another above-averagely talented singer-songwriter, before throwing everyone way the hell off his trail by reinventing his sound between every release, even going so far as to invent his own instruments. On the other hand, The Ramones wrote approximately seven million songs using the same three chords. I suppose Waits had to accidentally hit those three at some point, right? But it’s the simplicity of the song that works so well for The Ramones’ version; probably the reason that I thought they wrote this song is that they never did grow up; while Waits matured and diversified at every turn, The Ramones simply jammed for twenty consecutive years with tapes rolling at various points.
Thomas Truax – Falling (Badalamenti/Lynch)
Speaking of musical mavericks (see also Nick Cave’s take on Pulp’s ‘Disco 2000’), here’s a comparatively little-known chap from a place called Wowtown. Like Tom Waits, Thomas Truax builds his own instruments and utilises them in his live shows. His most ambitious gadget is The Hornicator: a gramophone horn with added strings and kazoo, plus a natural echo effect when he sings into it.
Thomas Truax’ latest release is an album of cover versions from the works of David Lynch; the most striking of which has to be ‘Falling’ from the television series Twin Peaks. Like the original it retains a very beautiful and haunting quality, but with the extra homemade effect of a mechanical backing band it takes on an even more surreal tone. Considering it’s a song by David Lynch, that really is something special. Unfortunately there’s no clip available on Youtube; regardless you should definitely watch two of his own pieces ‘Full Moon Over Wowtown’ and ‘Why Dogs Howl’ anyway.
Blood Brothers - Under Pressure (David Bowie & Queen)
This is my personal favourite cover of the lot because it most closely satisfies my own ambiguous criteria of a good cover: it should sound simultaneously nothing and everything like the original. It’s basically a thrashspazzcore version of the 1981 original (which incidentally is one of my all-time favourite songs), performed in duet by a dog trapping its genitals in a car door alongside its frantic owner. (The dog’s or the car’s? You’ll never know; my metaphors will be forever shrouded in mystery.) The cover was recorded for a Queen tribute album, and apart from what ought to be an interesting take on ‘We Will Rock You’ by Melt Banana, this is very probably the best song on there just because it will torture your eardrums for long enough to hook you by the time it stops. I can give you my personal guarantee (or Jack Bauer strike me down) that this cover is 100,000,000,000 times better than the version by those fucking weird twins and that fucking weird rapper.
Most of these songs in both forms, plus a couple I didn’t feel compelled to write about, are at this link.
http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=51C8DB3E1588E841
Tell ‘em Pop Monocle sent you. Or...y’know...don’t. Actually, no don't, because I owe them a tenner and they seem to have forgotten.
And so, in such a way as to reflect my new jet-setting lifestyle, I did the only thing possible to draw inspiration for a new post: a quick survey of my Facebook friends. After hearing Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral for only the third or fourth time (I quite like it, but The Fragile pisses all over it), it struck me that I preferred the Johnny Cash cover version of ‘Hurt’ over Trent Reznor’s original. I asked my online brethren of any other cover versions they preferred to their originals, and here are a few of our answers, analysed in my unique yet fucking lazy style.
The cast of Glee – Don’t Stop Believin’ (Journey)
As good a place to start as any, though as I write, the letters on my keyboard are being rapidly obscured by rivers of vomit so it’ll make the rest of this post quite tricky to write. I reckon that the resurgence of this song on both sides of the Atlantic can be blamed on Scrubs and The X Factor; and the original’s a pretty big hit on the jukebox of my pub of choice too. Cheesy as hell and therefore a natural choice for the surprise hit TV series Glee, which centres around a high school music club and its members’ struggles to fit in (I’m guessing). It’s also played on Radio One at least 750 times a day, which explains my dramatic increase in cig breaks at work.
Reel Big Fish – Take On Me (a-ha)
What is it about the genre of ska-punk that makes its artists think that it’s okay to butcher songs from the 1980s? Since when does a trumpet make a good synth substitute? You’re best off asking these wankers. I mean, they do a decent job and all that (certainly better than most half-arsed ska-punk covers I’ve ever heard, and that means YOU, Save Ferris) and you can tell that they mean well but, there’s just something so grubby about the whole operation. There’s so many of these sorts of covers out there, you’d be forgiven for thinking that the whole ska-punk scene was invented just to throw a few more royalties at starving one-hit wonders. Added bonus: a crappy video specially made on the set of Baseketball, which just about saves them by turning out to be a bloody good film (and an excellent segue from the part about Journey – “Steeeeve Perry!”)
Queens of the Stone Age - Everybody's Gonna Be Happy (The Kinks)
Apart from Don’t Stop Vomitin’, this is just about the straightest rework of the lot, which to be honest is a bit pointless for your average cover-lover. (Though luckily they don’t see the need to throw in any trumpet.) It’s fair enough though just to pay homage to The Kinks, as they did on a previous occasion with ‘Who’ll Be The Next In Line’ but it just seems to my ear like Queens just didn’t try hard enough to stamp their own watermark on it; maybe if they’d let Nick Oliveri do a bit of screaming over the chorus it’d satisfy a bit more. (They’re really missing him these days; if he were to return I’d be happy to drop my ‘No Fucking Reunions’ rule this once.)
The Ramones - I don't wanna grow up (Tom Waits/Kathleen Brennan)
I’ve just this minute learned that Tom Waits wrote this song, and not The Ramones. You learn something new every caffeine-fuelled and nicotine-choked night, eh? Waits made his name by starting out just another above-averagely talented singer-songwriter, before throwing everyone way the hell off his trail by reinventing his sound between every release, even going so far as to invent his own instruments. On the other hand, The Ramones wrote approximately seven million songs using the same three chords. I suppose Waits had to accidentally hit those three at some point, right? But it’s the simplicity of the song that works so well for The Ramones’ version; probably the reason that I thought they wrote this song is that they never did grow up; while Waits matured and diversified at every turn, The Ramones simply jammed for twenty consecutive years with tapes rolling at various points.
Thomas Truax – Falling (Badalamenti/Lynch)
Speaking of musical mavericks (see also Nick Cave’s take on Pulp’s ‘Disco 2000’), here’s a comparatively little-known chap from a place called Wowtown. Like Tom Waits, Thomas Truax builds his own instruments and utilises them in his live shows. His most ambitious gadget is The Hornicator: a gramophone horn with added strings and kazoo, plus a natural echo effect when he sings into it.
Thomas Truax’ latest release is an album of cover versions from the works of David Lynch; the most striking of which has to be ‘Falling’ from the television series Twin Peaks. Like the original it retains a very beautiful and haunting quality, but with the extra homemade effect of a mechanical backing band it takes on an even more surreal tone. Considering it’s a song by David Lynch, that really is something special. Unfortunately there’s no clip available on Youtube; regardless you should definitely watch two of his own pieces ‘Full Moon Over Wowtown’ and ‘Why Dogs Howl’ anyway.
Blood Brothers - Under Pressure (David Bowie & Queen)
This is my personal favourite cover of the lot because it most closely satisfies my own ambiguous criteria of a good cover: it should sound simultaneously nothing and everything like the original. It’s basically a thrashspazzcore version of the 1981 original (which incidentally is one of my all-time favourite songs), performed in duet by a dog trapping its genitals in a car door alongside its frantic owner. (The dog’s or the car’s? You’ll never know; my metaphors will be forever shrouded in mystery.) The cover was recorded for a Queen tribute album, and apart from what ought to be an interesting take on ‘We Will Rock You’ by Melt Banana, this is very probably the best song on there just because it will torture your eardrums for long enough to hook you by the time it stops. I can give you my personal guarantee (or Jack Bauer strike me down) that this cover is 100,000,000,000 times better than the version by those fucking weird twins and that fucking weird rapper.
Most of these songs in both forms, plus a couple I didn’t feel compelled to write about, are at this link.
http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=51C8DB3E1588E841
Tell ‘em Pop Monocle sent you. Or...y’know...don’t. Actually, no don't, because I owe them a tenner and they seem to have forgotten.
Saturday, 2 January 2010
On my favourite albums released between the years 2000 and 2009 (aka “how is it bollocks to state a preference?”)
Disclaimer: The following is just my opinion on the things I enjoy. I’m just someone who likes music, not Vinyl Justice. Feel free to disagree with me when I put things like ‘Fact.’ and ‘Officially’.
Quite an important list to me, is this. The last decade was pretty much full of my formative years; I am now well-versed in shouting at people who inexplicably like certain things. I won’t lie to you: only one or two of these would make it into an all-time top ten so at this point I’m pretty much scraping the barrel to find ten albums I liked in the last decade. Seeing as my formative years went hand in hand with little or no money to spend on them, I’ve not consumed nearly as much music from this decade as I would’ve liked; any “glaring omissions” from this list are probably because I’ve not heard them. (Or because you have shit taste in music.) So, in order of release, here they are:
Queens of the Stone Age - Rated R (Jun 2000)
Even though Songs For The Deaf is supposedly their magnum opus, I prefer this album simply because it’s filled with beefy riffs and, well, because I’ve listened to it a lot more times. It’s more firmly drilled into my skull than anything else they’ve released and it’s just too bloody good to ignore.
Favourite songs: ‘In The Fade’, ‘Tension Head’
Rancid - Rancid (Aug 2000)
Officially the last set of Rancid songs that were any good, this is pretty much the only punk rock album I can still stand. How times have changed: time was I’d have slapped you down for even daring to suggest that there was a better band on the planet than Rancid. Nowadays it appears I’m all about the indie-rock unfortunately. I am, however, still happy to write ‘Matt Freeman’ in the Bass God box on my Rock Credentials application form.
Favourite songs: ‘Corruption’, ‘Black Derby Jacket’
At the Drive-In - Relationship of Command (Sep 2000)
Even The Hives (remember them? Christ, maybe I’ll do a Worst Of list next just for them) never got as much hype as these dudes. The poor buggers slogged away in dives for years, repeatedly splitting up and getting back together, before giving everyone a kick up the arse with this quality set. That Jools Holland appearance did them a hell of a lot of business in this country, as did their fierce live shows across the world. They were savvy enough to fall out well before anyone had the chance to get sick of them, and go on to play Diet ATDi (Sparta) and Jazz Wank Bollocks (The Mars Volta). I didn’t even mention their afros. Winner.
Favourite songs: ‘Rolodex Propaganda’, ‘Cosmonaut’
Aphex Twin - drukqs (Oct 2001)
You know that Franz Ferdinand video where an Idiot DJ drops a microphone in a blender? Meet the man behind this supposed cliché: Richard D. James, aka Aphex Twin. He’s been Moulinexing his gear since the 80s with a wonderful mix of twinkly prepared piano and gut-wrenching industrial noise. This two-disc set contains both sides of the spectrum; all I can really helpfully say is that he’s been a staple of Warp Records since their inception. You do the math(s). Aphex Twin is officially my Favourite Dance Act That You Can’t Actually Dance To.
Favourite songs: God knows what any of them are actually called, but the one where his mum and dad sing Happy Birthday over the phone is up there.
Andrew WK - I Get Wet (Nov 2001)
Stop smirking. Yes, you at the back. I actually fucking love this album. 25% of the album’s track names contain the word ‘Party’; with this in mind it’s the only CD to stick on before you go out. I’m well aware that there’s nothing I can say to logically validate the man’s existence, but we are talking about music here; there’s precious little you can realistically argue about is there? It’s all overblown stadium rock and lyrics that would make The Descendants look like Morrissey, but from the moment I was first instructed to Party Hard I’ve stomped and punched the air like a man possessed. Nobody can match this album’s passion for living the good life, so why bother trying? Stick it on and kick it off.
Favourite songs: ‘Party Hard’, ‘Ready To Die’
Taking Back Sunday - Tell All Your Friends (Mar 2002)
As a previous Pop Monocle will attest to, P-Rock saved my soul from the foulness of nu-metal tosh that was Kerrang! TV. One of the most intriguing videos of its agonisingly short history was called ‘Great Romances of the 20th Century’, and featured four rather skinny chaps (and one fat man on lead guitar) jumping about to delay their collective heartache over various lasses dumping them. This video’s success was quickly followed by the Fight Club-inspired ‘Cute Without The ‘E’’ which managed to rock fairly hard without the aid of down-tuned guitars and so caught my attention. I could easily relate, as I myself was having a shit time of it with various lasses. Since co-songwriter John Nolan left the band before Album Two (and cancelled their UK tour with Brand New, the twats) I now deny all other knowledge of this band.
Favourite songs: ‘Great Romances...’, ‘You’re So Last Summer’
Hundred Reasons - Ideas Above Our Station (May 2002)
To date the only album I ever bought on its day of release, Hundred Reasons led the wave of young British rock bands that didn’t see the need to tune their guitars down. Or to suck. When I first saw the video for ‘I’ll Find You’ on MTV2 I finally grasped the fact that not everybody was into that nu-metal bollocks, and that there were a multitude of underground bands happy to rail against said tosh. Track after track of overdrive pedals and passionate singing make this album a joy to hear; it’s so sad that they’ve got nowhere near to matching it since.
Favourite songs: ‘I’ll Find You’, ‘Silver’
Reuben - Racecar is Racecar Backwards (June 2004)
Like Hundred Reasons, Reuben was another British band fortunate enough to find just the right amount of major-league exposure and fans sick of Limp’in ParKorn wannabes. Probably the first song of theirs I heard was second single ‘Stux’, with its amusing video and catchy guitar hooks. Some time passed before they scaled the UK charts with ‘Freddy Krueger’ (number 53!) during which Reuben toured their arses off to get a solid and rabid fan base, upon which Racecar was flung like so many delicious scraps of bacon. My biggest regret is that I only saw them live once, before I’d even heard any non-singles. (They supported Hundred Reasons, and absolutely blew them away.)
Favourite songs: ‘Song For Saturday’, ‘Parties Break Hearts’
We Are Scientists - with Love And Squalor (Oct 2005)
My first memory of W.A.S. is repeated airings of ‘Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt’ as my old housemate constantly restarted the level of Driver 3 on which he was stuck, causing the Xbox he’d installed it on to keep restarting the album he’d picked to play over it. You’d think you’d get bored of even the best riffs during such torture, but that song managed to remain fresh and innovative for me. A few months later my lady had obtained said album, but this time was able and willing to play the whole disc over and over. What I love about this album is how different each song sounds from the last; with a record like Rancid 2000 for example you know exactly what you’re getting, but W.A.S. manage to hit a little bit of anything and everything on this album with great results.
Favourite songs: ‘The Great Escape’, ‘Textbook’
Jakobinarina - The First Crusade (Oct 2007)
There was a time when MTV2 would play ‘This Is An Advertisment’ on their 120 Minutes programme every single night, to my delight. If you were to recommend any similar artists to me, I would in all honesty probably hate them because the more usual mix of poppy keyboards and sugary guitars absolutely does my skull in. It’s certainly the reason why I love this album that nobody does it like these Icelandic youngsters. There’s just something a bit...sneaky about the way they pretend they’ve been there and done that when they’re actually so bloody young. Perhaps it’s their arrogance that appeals to me? Oh, and ‘His Lyrics Are Disastrous’ is my ringtone. If that means nothing to you then you’re obviously not taking me as the Fountain of Wisdom that I am.
Favourite songs: ‘His Lyrics Are Disastrous’, ‘17’
Quite an important list to me, is this. The last decade was pretty much full of my formative years; I am now well-versed in shouting at people who inexplicably like certain things. I won’t lie to you: only one or two of these would make it into an all-time top ten so at this point I’m pretty much scraping the barrel to find ten albums I liked in the last decade. Seeing as my formative years went hand in hand with little or no money to spend on them, I’ve not consumed nearly as much music from this decade as I would’ve liked; any “glaring omissions” from this list are probably because I’ve not heard them. (Or because you have shit taste in music.) So, in order of release, here they are:
Queens of the Stone Age - Rated R (Jun 2000)
Even though Songs For The Deaf is supposedly their magnum opus, I prefer this album simply because it’s filled with beefy riffs and, well, because I’ve listened to it a lot more times. It’s more firmly drilled into my skull than anything else they’ve released and it’s just too bloody good to ignore.
Favourite songs: ‘In The Fade’, ‘Tension Head’
Rancid - Rancid (Aug 2000)
Officially the last set of Rancid songs that were any good, this is pretty much the only punk rock album I can still stand. How times have changed: time was I’d have slapped you down for even daring to suggest that there was a better band on the planet than Rancid. Nowadays it appears I’m all about the indie-rock unfortunately. I am, however, still happy to write ‘Matt Freeman’ in the Bass God box on my Rock Credentials application form.
Favourite songs: ‘Corruption’, ‘Black Derby Jacket’
At the Drive-In - Relationship of Command (Sep 2000)
Even The Hives (remember them? Christ, maybe I’ll do a Worst Of list next just for them) never got as much hype as these dudes. The poor buggers slogged away in dives for years, repeatedly splitting up and getting back together, before giving everyone a kick up the arse with this quality set. That Jools Holland appearance did them a hell of a lot of business in this country, as did their fierce live shows across the world. They were savvy enough to fall out well before anyone had the chance to get sick of them, and go on to play Diet ATDi (Sparta) and Jazz Wank Bollocks (The Mars Volta). I didn’t even mention their afros. Winner.
Favourite songs: ‘Rolodex Propaganda’, ‘Cosmonaut’
Aphex Twin - drukqs (Oct 2001)
You know that Franz Ferdinand video where an Idiot DJ drops a microphone in a blender? Meet the man behind this supposed cliché: Richard D. James, aka Aphex Twin. He’s been Moulinexing his gear since the 80s with a wonderful mix of twinkly prepared piano and gut-wrenching industrial noise. This two-disc set contains both sides of the spectrum; all I can really helpfully say is that he’s been a staple of Warp Records since their inception. You do the math(s). Aphex Twin is officially my Favourite Dance Act That You Can’t Actually Dance To.
Favourite songs: God knows what any of them are actually called, but the one where his mum and dad sing Happy Birthday over the phone is up there.
Andrew WK - I Get Wet (Nov 2001)
Stop smirking. Yes, you at the back. I actually fucking love this album. 25% of the album’s track names contain the word ‘Party’; with this in mind it’s the only CD to stick on before you go out. I’m well aware that there’s nothing I can say to logically validate the man’s existence, but we are talking about music here; there’s precious little you can realistically argue about is there? It’s all overblown stadium rock and lyrics that would make The Descendants look like Morrissey, but from the moment I was first instructed to Party Hard I’ve stomped and punched the air like a man possessed. Nobody can match this album’s passion for living the good life, so why bother trying? Stick it on and kick it off.
Favourite songs: ‘Party Hard’, ‘Ready To Die’
Taking Back Sunday - Tell All Your Friends (Mar 2002)
As a previous Pop Monocle will attest to, P-Rock saved my soul from the foulness of nu-metal tosh that was Kerrang! TV. One of the most intriguing videos of its agonisingly short history was called ‘Great Romances of the 20th Century’, and featured four rather skinny chaps (and one fat man on lead guitar) jumping about to delay their collective heartache over various lasses dumping them. This video’s success was quickly followed by the Fight Club-inspired ‘Cute Without The ‘E’’ which managed to rock fairly hard without the aid of down-tuned guitars and so caught my attention. I could easily relate, as I myself was having a shit time of it with various lasses. Since co-songwriter John Nolan left the band before Album Two (and cancelled their UK tour with Brand New, the twats) I now deny all other knowledge of this band.
Favourite songs: ‘Great Romances...’, ‘You’re So Last Summer’
Hundred Reasons - Ideas Above Our Station (May 2002)
To date the only album I ever bought on its day of release, Hundred Reasons led the wave of young British rock bands that didn’t see the need to tune their guitars down. Or to suck. When I first saw the video for ‘I’ll Find You’ on MTV2 I finally grasped the fact that not everybody was into that nu-metal bollocks, and that there were a multitude of underground bands happy to rail against said tosh. Track after track of overdrive pedals and passionate singing make this album a joy to hear; it’s so sad that they’ve got nowhere near to matching it since.
Favourite songs: ‘I’ll Find You’, ‘Silver’
Reuben - Racecar is Racecar Backwards (June 2004)
Like Hundred Reasons, Reuben was another British band fortunate enough to find just the right amount of major-league exposure and fans sick of Limp’in ParKorn wannabes. Probably the first song of theirs I heard was second single ‘Stux’, with its amusing video and catchy guitar hooks. Some time passed before they scaled the UK charts with ‘Freddy Krueger’ (number 53!) during which Reuben toured their arses off to get a solid and rabid fan base, upon which Racecar was flung like so many delicious scraps of bacon. My biggest regret is that I only saw them live once, before I’d even heard any non-singles. (They supported Hundred Reasons, and absolutely blew them away.)
Favourite songs: ‘Song For Saturday’, ‘Parties Break Hearts’
We Are Scientists - with Love And Squalor (Oct 2005)
My first memory of W.A.S. is repeated airings of ‘Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt’ as my old housemate constantly restarted the level of Driver 3 on which he was stuck, causing the Xbox he’d installed it on to keep restarting the album he’d picked to play over it. You’d think you’d get bored of even the best riffs during such torture, but that song managed to remain fresh and innovative for me. A few months later my lady had obtained said album, but this time was able and willing to play the whole disc over and over. What I love about this album is how different each song sounds from the last; with a record like Rancid 2000 for example you know exactly what you’re getting, but W.A.S. manage to hit a little bit of anything and everything on this album with great results.
Favourite songs: ‘The Great Escape’, ‘Textbook’
Jakobinarina - The First Crusade (Oct 2007)
There was a time when MTV2 would play ‘This Is An Advertisment’ on their 120 Minutes programme every single night, to my delight. If you were to recommend any similar artists to me, I would in all honesty probably hate them because the more usual mix of poppy keyboards and sugary guitars absolutely does my skull in. It’s certainly the reason why I love this album that nobody does it like these Icelandic youngsters. There’s just something a bit...sneaky about the way they pretend they’ve been there and done that when they’re actually so bloody young. Perhaps it’s their arrogance that appeals to me? Oh, and ‘His Lyrics Are Disastrous’ is my ringtone. If that means nothing to you then you’re obviously not taking me as the Fountain of Wisdom that I am.
Favourite songs: ‘His Lyrics Are Disastrous’, ‘17’
Monday, 21 December 2009
on happily receiving this week's chart news.
True, I said "it won't fucking work", and I admit that I was wrong. But you know me; when was I ever anything but cynical? Is this blog called Sunshine & Rainbows? No. It's about pop culture, the sophistication of which has been in decline for many years now. Just because I don't expect half a million people to agree with me, that's no reason to expect any better in future is it?
I'm not trying to make excuses, either. Like I said, this is a good thing. If you bought this single, then good on you. Unless it wasn't for the first time; then you're not getting into the spirit of the charts are you? How about getting behind a new artist next year? How about not doing what you're told?
Fuck it. I'm still cynical.
Sunday, 6 December 2009
on not doing what you tell me (aka the race for second place at Christmas)
Pop Monocle's debut year, in a nutshell:
- Wake up at night, troubled by an unimportant thought
- Rage against the laptop until I run out of coffee
- Get one nice comment about the resulting blog, usually from my brother.
And so we come, full circle, to this month's storm in a thimble: The Christmas Number One. My one-sided debate concludes that it will go to the winner of this year's X-Factor. As much as I detest the idea; as much as I'd like Simon Cowell to find his own kneecaps in his stocking, it's just inevitable: an inalienable truth. Homer Simpson will say 'd'oh!', Bill Murray will be The Fucking Man, and The X-Factor will be responsible for what you're being subjected to at the top of the Christmas tree. (The tree being a metaphor for the charts, except that where there ought to be a shining star, beaming proudly, there will be a dolloped turd, steaming proudly. God, I hate toilet humour.)
Evidence? Alright, if I must. Since this legion of arseholes made the charts their bitch, bookies started taking bets on who will be their runner-up come the 25th. Last year would've granted you slim odds for Jeff Buckley's version of 'Hallelujah', when Factored in that the newer version would've beaten it. It's strange seeing bookies work with assumptions like this, but in the end Buckley was outsold seven to one; you just can't fight those odds.
Not that that will stop people trying this year; an official listing on bookies' websites for alternatives to the X-Factor includes a little ditty called 'Killing In The Name' by that feel-good funtime band Rage Against The Machine. Aside from the side swipe taken at Cowell et al by the name itself, people are jumping on the bandwagon in droves just to try and displace their eventual champion at the summit. I think it's a fantastic idea. Again, just a few little niggles with the plan:
1. It Won't Fucking Work.
Sorry. It just won't. Fair enough, 195,356 people (and counting) on the Facebook page have pledged their support to the American agit-rockers for a start, but when it comes to the crunch how many of those people will actually download it? When was the last time you actually attended a Facebook event that you didn't organise yourself? Personally speaking, I own a copy of the song already and thus see no need to spend money to replicate my collection. I'm sure others feel the same. Even if twice the amount of Facebook members buy it, I feel obliged to inform you that The Burke's version of Hallelujah sold 576,000 copies in its first week, and a million in total by week three. Them's some impressive sales figures for such a shit cover.
2. Sony Records Wins Either Way
Yeah, striking a real blow at the heart of corporate culture, aren't we? Someone didn't think this through enough. Rage Against The Machine is an apt enough name for the attempted hostile takeover of the charts, but it's worth noting that said Rage was signed to Epic Records, which is not only a subsidiary of Cowell's employers the Sony Corporation, but the very same label that Alexandra Burke is signed to now. I'm all for sticking it to The Man but even if RATM somehow make it to Number One instead of whatever dross comes off that programme, Sony will have still made a shitload of money off this litle venture.
3. Democracy (no matter how misguided) is still democracy
And unless there's some major chart-rigging scandal going on (which to be fair would explain everything, and I mean everything that's wrong with this world), the reason that this song will do so well in the charts is that enough people will want it to. True, the majority might well buy a song comprised of three minutes of farting on a snare drum (with a burp chorus) as long as it's performed by this year's winner but unfortunately that's exactly how the pop charts operate. Conversely, if enough people want Rage, or Robbie Williams, or Peter Fucking Kay to top the charts then that is what will happen. It's hard to argue with the consensus of public opinion, unfortunately; anyone who disagrees with that is a Communist.
So sit back and enjoy the show. And if you're really that upset about The X-Factor getting to Christmas Number One this year you could always...I dunno...switch the radio off at number two? Not listen to it at all? Get a fucking life instead? Merry Christmas, Pop Monoclers.
- Wake up at night, troubled by an unimportant thought
- Rage against the laptop until I run out of coffee
- Get one nice comment about the resulting blog, usually from my brother.
And so we come, full circle, to this month's storm in a thimble: The Christmas Number One. My one-sided debate concludes that it will go to the winner of this year's X-Factor. As much as I detest the idea; as much as I'd like Simon Cowell to find his own kneecaps in his stocking, it's just inevitable: an inalienable truth. Homer Simpson will say 'd'oh!', Bill Murray will be The Fucking Man, and The X-Factor will be responsible for what you're being subjected to at the top of the Christmas tree. (The tree being a metaphor for the charts, except that where there ought to be a shining star, beaming proudly, there will be a dolloped turd, steaming proudly. God, I hate toilet humour.)
Evidence? Alright, if I must. Since this legion of arseholes made the charts their bitch, bookies started taking bets on who will be their runner-up come the 25th. Last year would've granted you slim odds for Jeff Buckley's version of 'Hallelujah', when Factored in that the newer version would've beaten it. It's strange seeing bookies work with assumptions like this, but in the end Buckley was outsold seven to one; you just can't fight those odds.
Not that that will stop people trying this year; an official listing on bookies' websites for alternatives to the X-Factor includes a little ditty called 'Killing In The Name' by that feel-good funtime band Rage Against The Machine. Aside from the side swipe taken at Cowell et al by the name itself, people are jumping on the bandwagon in droves just to try and displace their eventual champion at the summit. I think it's a fantastic idea. Again, just a few little niggles with the plan:
1. It Won't Fucking Work.
Sorry. It just won't. Fair enough, 195,356 people (and counting) on the Facebook page have pledged their support to the American agit-rockers for a start, but when it comes to the crunch how many of those people will actually download it? When was the last time you actually attended a Facebook event that you didn't organise yourself? Personally speaking, I own a copy of the song already and thus see no need to spend money to replicate my collection. I'm sure others feel the same. Even if twice the amount of Facebook members buy it, I feel obliged to inform you that The Burke's version of Hallelujah sold 576,000 copies in its first week, and a million in total by week three. Them's some impressive sales figures for such a shit cover.
2. Sony Records Wins Either Way
Yeah, striking a real blow at the heart of corporate culture, aren't we? Someone didn't think this through enough. Rage Against The Machine is an apt enough name for the attempted hostile takeover of the charts, but it's worth noting that said Rage was signed to Epic Records, which is not only a subsidiary of Cowell's employers the Sony Corporation, but the very same label that Alexandra Burke is signed to now. I'm all for sticking it to The Man but even if RATM somehow make it to Number One instead of whatever dross comes off that programme, Sony will have still made a shitload of money off this litle venture.
3. Democracy (no matter how misguided) is still democracy
And unless there's some major chart-rigging scandal going on (which to be fair would explain everything, and I mean everything that's wrong with this world), the reason that this song will do so well in the charts is that enough people will want it to. True, the majority might well buy a song comprised of three minutes of farting on a snare drum (with a burp chorus) as long as it's performed by this year's winner but unfortunately that's exactly how the pop charts operate. Conversely, if enough people want Rage, or Robbie Williams, or Peter Fucking Kay to top the charts then that is what will happen. It's hard to argue with the consensus of public opinion, unfortunately; anyone who disagrees with that is a Communist.
So sit back and enjoy the show. And if you're really that upset about The X-Factor getting to Christmas Number One this year you could always...I dunno...switch the radio off at number two? Not listen to it at all? Get a fucking life instead? Merry Christmas, Pop Monoclers.
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