Sorry for the technical difficulties due to the retreating Welsh: in theory, all should be sorted now. In theory, Communism works, to quote a wise man.
Sorry about the week of Kristin Hersh tracks that didn't happen as well: I'll give up on that for now, but will try to upload the odd one still.
Rant of the day today though: hats. I've always thought a revival in gentleman's headwear would be a good thing. Nostalgia is the wrong word, it represents a time I actually knew, but I pine for the era when a hatstand had a practical use in the office. I'd love to come in after a brisk walk from where the omnibus dropped me off, hang my hat on the stand and settle to my desk. (This is pre hot-desking days, of course). A fine trilby, a sturdy homburg, these are good hats.
What I didn't expect is the hat to be appropriated by the pikey end of the trendy classes to approximate street-level value for money in the field of music.
Example. The Libertines wore hats. Now, visit Old Street, or any similar uber-hip locale, you can't move for pork-pies, alpines, cloth flats, you name it. To the point where, if I actually were to wear a finely-millinered Homburg, I'd fit right in. Which was my point, in a societal kind of way, but at the same time, these are people amongst whom I have no real desire to be accepted. I don't find the idea of wearing a scarf on a stage to be a good one. It's very hot in a pop music venue, especially on the stage. Therefore, a large duffel coat, stripey scarf and flat cap seem to me to be extraneous. Not only extraneous, but pandering to, not creating, a public image.
I wonder, who do rock stars want to emulate in the fashion stakes these days. Richard E Grant as Withnail? Pork Pie from Desmonds? The semi-mythical Mickey Pearce? Please don't say Pete Doherty. I imagine there's some sort of seeking of identification with the Clash by being ordinary chaps in studiously nonchalant clothing playing music talking about local characters dahn yer manor. I'm fairly sure the late Mr Strummer would be fine with young blokes playing jagged pop-punk, but given the pop nous and self-publicity tricks he learnt from Bernie Rhodes, I'm also fairly sure he could have spotted a scenester a mile off.
Meh, let them wear what they want I guess. I imagine i'd be just as obnoxious to them if i went around in an Old Street indie disco loudly proclaiming that this was all rubbish, you should listen exclusively to Four Tet blah blah blah. Still, I reserve my right to judge: focus on the music rather than the look people...
Antidote: Throwing Muses - Serene