In the six or so years I've been blogging, I've "met" some interesting characters.
It was incredibly saddening to hear today that my favourite blogger - indeed, one of my favourite writers in any medium - known to many as Almax, and to readers of seminal football fanzine The Absolute Game by his real name of Alastair McSporran (which he memorably described as having been invented by a Sunday Post sub-editor), died on Tuesday after a long illness.
Alastair's knowledge of music, conveyed through his blog, was an entry point for me into a whole world of previously unexplored music. Through him I discovered The Incredible String Band, Bunny Wailer, Ornette Coleman, Poco and many, many more.
I also enjoyed the debates he led on football, particularly the fortunes or otherwise of the Old Firm. I was lucky enough to be chosen as one of 35 private members of the blog when public access was revoked a few years back, and the community that Alastair created felt at all times like the world's best, most selective, private members club. No topic was off limits, and it became a safe haven of sorts to engage in occasionally heated discussion.
No words I write here can possibly do Alastair's talent justice. If a professional writer had left behind a body of work so varied, so forthright, so honest and so tear-inducingly hilarious, they would be feted for decades. That his blog was the work of a supposed amateur makes it all the more impressive.
While the main blog that bears his name remains behind closed doors, I recommend everyone visit this collection of Alastair's The Absolute Game writings for some of the best analysis of Scottish football you'll ever read.
Farewell Alastair - I'm listening to Blood On The Tracks in your honour.
Showing posts with label Bloggers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bloggers. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Thursday, September 22, 2011
The Eighteenth Groanin' Jock Lyrical Challenge
A while back, I resurrected the game no-one seems interested in playing, The Groanin' Jock Lyrical Challenge.
Jack Deighton was the winner on that occasion, correctly identifying Money by Pink Floyd. Answers to all of those questions are now in the comments on that post.
Here are the latest songs for you to identify. Place your answers in the comments. No Googling.
1. When I hear that big black whistle they blow, I feel inside it's time for me to be going.
2. When I fully grow I'll outsize you, but I won't let you fall in love.
3. Gonna manage my time just like Johann Cruyff.
4. For what it's worth it was worth all the while.
5. And when she lets me slip away, she turns me on, all my violence is gone.
Jack Deighton was the winner on that occasion, correctly identifying Money by Pink Floyd. Answers to all of those questions are now in the comments on that post.
Here are the latest songs for you to identify. Place your answers in the comments. No Googling.
1. When I hear that big black whistle they blow, I feel inside it's time for me to be going.
2. When I fully grow I'll outsize you, but I won't let you fall in love.
3. Gonna manage my time just like Johann Cruyff.
4. For what it's worth it was worth all the while.
5. And when she lets me slip away, she turns me on, all my violence is gone.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The Seventeenth Groanin' Jock Lyrical Challenge
My blogging has been very erratic over the past couple of years, for a multitude of reasons.
So erratic in fact that the last time we had a Groanin' Jock Lyrical Challenge was back in September 2009.
Way back then, Cedric M. Kippers (now no longer wandering the blogosphere) identified three of the five tracks and Kenfitlike spotted one.
The answers are now in the comments on that post.
So without any further ado, here is the Seventeenth Groanin' Jock Lyrical Challenge. Simply name the artist and track, post your answers in the comments, no Googling.
1. I don't know if I'm up or down, Whether black is white or blue is brown.
2. Take off your disguise, I know that underneath it's me.
3. Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash.
4. I can see that light surrounds me, I want you to show me round.
5. Such a melting pot, on the corner selling rock, preachers pray to God.
So erratic in fact that the last time we had a Groanin' Jock Lyrical Challenge was back in September 2009.
Way back then, Cedric M. Kippers (now no longer wandering the blogosphere) identified three of the five tracks and Kenfitlike spotted one.
The answers are now in the comments on that post.
So without any further ado, here is the Seventeenth Groanin' Jock Lyrical Challenge. Simply name the artist and track, post your answers in the comments, no Googling.
1. I don't know if I'm up or down, Whether black is white or blue is brown.
2. Take off your disguise, I know that underneath it's me.
3. Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash.
4. I can see that light surrounds me, I want you to show me round.
5. Such a melting pot, on the corner selling rock, preachers pray to God.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Blogmeet 2010
It may be slightly out of focus, but this is the documentary evidence of my latest blogmeet.On the left is Eric of Straight White Guy fame, the gifted online journalist who serves the additonal role of my blogfather.
We caught up over a pint or three a couple of weeks ago, but I've just been too damn lazy to get the photo online before now.
Pop across to Eric's site, say hello and tell him I sent you.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Breaking News
Groanin' Jock, bringing you all the important things in life - Scottish pussy (apparently), Montrose Football Club and pictures of John Terry.
(Click on the picture to bigify it if necessary.)
(Click on the picture to bigify it if necessary.)
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Desert Island Discs
As seen at Cedric M. Kippers' Magically Bored - The Desert Island Discs challenge.
Rule number 1. You only have room for 25 albums.
Rule number 2. You can only name one album per band.
Rule number 3. They have to be named in order.
Rule number 4. Greatest Hits or compilations are invalid.
So without further ado (or any ado at all) here is the list of 25 records I'd take with me to listen to until the end of my days.
25 - The Cooper Temple Clause - See This Through and Leave
24 - Supergrass - In It For The Money
23 - Gomez - Liquid Skin
22 - Powderfinger - Vulture Street
21 - The Charlatans - The Charlatans
20 - Primal Scream - Exterminator
19 - Michael Jackson - Thriller
18 - The Smiths - The Queen Is Dead
17 - The Jam - Sound Affects
16 - Elbow - ASleep In The Back
15 - The Libertines - Up The Bracket
14 - Radiohead - OK Computer
13 - Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not
12 - The Doors - The Doors
11 - The Bluetones - Return To The Last Chance Saloon
10 - The Coral - The Coral
9 - Small Faces - Ogden's Nut Gone Flake
8 - John Lennon - Imagine
7 - Bob Dylan - Highway 61 Revisited
6 - Stereophonics - Word Gets Around
5 - Oasis - Definitely Maybe
4 - The Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour
3 - Super Furry Animals - Radiator
2 - Nirvana - Nevermind
1 - The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses
This isn't the list of my 25 favourite albums - there would be at least another six Beatles albums, and others by Nirvana, Oasis, The Stone Roses and Radiohead if it was. I couldn't elevate a single Rolling Stones album, or any of the records by Pink Floyd, The Who, The Jimi Hendrix Experience or David Bowie to my top 25, and even Red Hot Chili Peppers, Muse, Coldplay and The Verve fail to make the cut.
Now, I throw the challenge open to everyone else - what would be the 25 records you would take with you to a desert island?
Rule number 1. You only have room for 25 albums.
Rule number 2. You can only name one album per band.
Rule number 3. They have to be named in order.
Rule number 4. Greatest Hits or compilations are invalid.
So without further ado (or any ado at all) here is the list of 25 records I'd take with me to listen to until the end of my days.
25 - The Cooper Temple Clause - See This Through and Leave
24 - Supergrass - In It For The Money
23 - Gomez - Liquid Skin
22 - Powderfinger - Vulture Street
21 - The Charlatans - The Charlatans
20 - Primal Scream - Exterminator
19 - Michael Jackson - Thriller
18 - The Smiths - The Queen Is Dead
17 - The Jam - Sound Affects
16 - Elbow - ASleep In The Back
15 - The Libertines - Up The Bracket
14 - Radiohead - OK Computer
13 - Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not
12 - The Doors - The Doors
11 - The Bluetones - Return To The Last Chance Saloon
10 - The Coral - The Coral
9 - Small Faces - Ogden's Nut Gone Flake
8 - John Lennon - Imagine
7 - Bob Dylan - Highway 61 Revisited
6 - Stereophonics - Word Gets Around
5 - Oasis - Definitely Maybe
4 - The Beatles - Magical Mystery Tour
3 - Super Furry Animals - Radiator
2 - Nirvana - Nevermind
1 - The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses
This isn't the list of my 25 favourite albums - there would be at least another six Beatles albums, and others by Nirvana, Oasis, The Stone Roses and Radiohead if it was. I couldn't elevate a single Rolling Stones album, or any of the records by Pink Floyd, The Who, The Jimi Hendrix Experience or David Bowie to my top 25, and even Red Hot Chili Peppers, Muse, Coldplay and The Verve fail to make the cut.
Now, I throw the challenge open to everyone else - what would be the 25 records you would take with you to a desert island?
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Back In Blue
Mike, who blogs brilliantly over at Auld Reekie Rants, sent this video of Links Park to me. It's interesting to see how the ground has changed since the year I was born. The worrying observation is that, aside from the replacement of one stand with a more modern version, it hasn't.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Tag-A-Thon
It's been a while since anyone on the worldwide interweb decided I was worthy of tagging, so thanks to Billy The Kid for this one, for which he was tagged by Rantz.
And this one's simple - five things about me.
1. I have no middle name. Mither never liked the fact that hers was her mother's maiden name, which isn't a standard girly-type name, and so decided that Baby Brother and I wouldn't have middle names. Which means that my real name has, in total, seven letters.
2. I've visited 21 of the world's countries (24 if you count England, Scotland, Norn Iron and Eire as separate nations). My first foreign trip was an exchange trip to Germany with the school in 1994, which also took me to Belgium and the Netherlands, sailing into Zeebrugge and out of Rotterdam.
3. The most recent new addition to the list above is Norway, which I visited with work in August. Stavanger reminded me of the town from The Goonies, albeit with more drunk Norwegians and £9 pints.
4. My first football match was Brechin City v Rangers for Dougie Scott's testimonial match in 1991. If memory serves correctly (and it probably doesn't) Brechin won 6-4. Ian Durrant scored a penalty for Rangers as he made his slow comeback from his horrific injury.
5. If I could only watch one DVD on repeat for eternity, I'd probably pick the first disc from the Fawlty Towers box set. Familiarity should really breed contempt, but not in this case. Communication Problems is actually funnier with every subsequent viewing.
Now, who to tag? Like Billy, I'll pick three of my favourite Scottish bloggers - The Tomahawk Kid, Big Rab and Mike Smith from Auld Reekie Rants.
And this one's simple - five things about me.
1. I have no middle name. Mither never liked the fact that hers was her mother's maiden name, which isn't a standard girly-type name, and so decided that Baby Brother and I wouldn't have middle names. Which means that my real name has, in total, seven letters.
2. I've visited 21 of the world's countries (24 if you count England, Scotland, Norn Iron and Eire as separate nations). My first foreign trip was an exchange trip to Germany with the school in 1994, which also took me to Belgium and the Netherlands, sailing into Zeebrugge and out of Rotterdam.
3. The most recent new addition to the list above is Norway, which I visited with work in August. Stavanger reminded me of the town from The Goonies, albeit with more drunk Norwegians and £9 pints.
4. My first football match was Brechin City v Rangers for Dougie Scott's testimonial match in 1991. If memory serves correctly (and it probably doesn't) Brechin won 6-4. Ian Durrant scored a penalty for Rangers as he made his slow comeback from his horrific injury.
5. If I could only watch one DVD on repeat for eternity, I'd probably pick the first disc from the Fawlty Towers box set. Familiarity should really breed contempt, but not in this case. Communication Problems is actually funnier with every subsequent viewing.
Now, who to tag? Like Billy, I'll pick three of my favourite Scottish bloggers - The Tomahawk Kid, Big Rab and Mike Smith from Auld Reekie Rants.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Meeting Of Minds
As well as having the misfortune of watching Montrose lose their first league match of the season on Saturday, I also enjoyed the company of two of my fellow Scottish bloggers, The Tomahawk Kid and Big Rab of The Ben Lomond Free Press.
Both Rab and TK are Sons of the Rock, and both had made the pilgrimage to Montrose to see Dumbarton continue their push for promotion to Division Two. I worked with The Tomahawk Kid for a year or so when we were both employed by A Major Engineering Company, but Saturday was the first time I'd seen him in a few months.
TK and Rab have known each other since they were just wee boys, but it was the first time I'd had the opportunity to meet Rab.
So, an hour before kick-off, we met in the British Legion adjacent to Links Park for a mini blogmeet.
I believe a good time was had by all, although Rab and TK were more pleased with the result than I was. Oh, and Rab did voice displeasure at cups of Bovril that were described as espresso-sized.
And I thought it was us east coasters who were supposed to be grippit.
Big Rab, Groanin' Jock and The Tomahawk Kid in the Legion before Saturday's match.
Photo courtesy of Tomahawk Kid Junior.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Kick Your Blogroll Up The Arse
As instigated by Misssy M of the Misssy M Misssives, I'm going to give my blogroll a kick up the arse.
Misssy, inspired by her own laziness, has decided to venture out into the uncharted (by her) regions of the Blogosphere in search of pastures new, and is encouraging everyone else to follow suit.
Here are the handy copy-and-paste rules:
What you do is you go to four of your favourite blogs and pick a blog from their blogroll that you’ve never visited or commented on.
You then add them to your blogroll or feed, read them for at least a month (by which time there should be no turning back) and give them a chance to invade your life.
Then you duplicate the main part of this post with a note on whose blog you got it from. Stick the four new blogs you are going to read up , tell us briefly why you chose them and whose blogroll they came from.
And if you want, coerce others mercilessly into joining in. Then start reading.
Here are the choices I have made:
1: From Misssy's own blogroll, Gorilla Bananas' The Japing Ape. Looks like I've hit gold from the get-go: magnificently surreal in places, pictures of Britney snogging Madonna and a droll dead pan wit. What more could one expect of the world's leading anthropological ape?
2: Eric is, officially, my Blogfather, so I guess his blogroll would be another good place to look. Chosen completely at random, I've alighted at Quality Weenie. Who is, apparently, an Early Explorer, a Daydreamer and a dog lover. All of which sounds much like myself.
3. Big Rab likes good music, good football (and Dumbarton) and a good dram. Hopefully, his taste in bloggers is as refined as his other tastes. And the fact that Helpless Dancer's blog is called The Endless Note and that he describes himself as a music enthusiast suggests I'm in good company here. The Who, Glasvegas, Dr John and football on the front page is a good start.
4. And finally, from Erica's blog roll, Last One Speaks - "Musings of a complicated woman with simple tastes" - who's intrigued by her Oriental neighbours. Hey, now I'm intrigued too.....
No tagging from me - play along if you want to....
Misssy, inspired by her own laziness, has decided to venture out into the uncharted (by her) regions of the Blogosphere in search of pastures new, and is encouraging everyone else to follow suit.
Here are the handy copy-and-paste rules:
What you do is you go to four of your favourite blogs and pick a blog from their blogroll that you’ve never visited or commented on.
You then add them to your blogroll or feed, read them for at least a month (by which time there should be no turning back) and give them a chance to invade your life.
Then you duplicate the main part of this post with a note on whose blog you got it from. Stick the four new blogs you are going to read up , tell us briefly why you chose them and whose blogroll they came from.
And if you want, coerce others mercilessly into joining in. Then start reading.
Here are the choices I have made:
1: From Misssy's own blogroll, Gorilla Bananas' The Japing Ape. Looks like I've hit gold from the get-go: magnificently surreal in places, pictures of Britney snogging Madonna and a droll dead pan wit. What more could one expect of the world's leading anthropological ape?
2: Eric is, officially, my Blogfather, so I guess his blogroll would be another good place to look. Chosen completely at random, I've alighted at Quality Weenie. Who is, apparently, an Early Explorer, a Daydreamer and a dog lover. All of which sounds much like myself.
3. Big Rab likes good music, good football (and Dumbarton) and a good dram. Hopefully, his taste in bloggers is as refined as his other tastes. And the fact that Helpless Dancer's blog is called The Endless Note and that he describes himself as a music enthusiast suggests I'm in good company here. The Who, Glasvegas, Dr John and football on the front page is a good start.
4. And finally, from Erica's blog roll, Last One Speaks - "Musings of a complicated woman with simple tastes" - who's intrigued by her Oriental neighbours. Hey, now I'm intrigued too.....
No tagging from me - play along if you want to....
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Alastair's Heart Monitor
It's always sad when a fellow blogger hangs up the keyboard and consigns their online missives to history.
But when the blogger bidding the blogosphere farewell is one of the most gifted amongst us, it's a doubly hard blow.
Alastair of Alastair's Heart Monitor is, for understandable reasons, about to call time on what, for me, could be the greatest blog out there.
No other site on the internet has ever held my attention on such a wide range of subjects - from the frequently bizarre world of Scottish football to rare Beatles tracks; from the dangerously barmy natives of North America to the spectacularly entertaining world of the libel courts.
Through Alastair's site, I've often been sent out into the wider world in search of further information - rare soul tracks, classic novels and vintage football footage.
While you still have the chance, I'd urge you all to visit Alastair's site, trawl through his archives and re-emerge into the world around you hours later, a plethora of new knowledge fighting for space in your brain.
But when the blogger bidding the blogosphere farewell is one of the most gifted amongst us, it's a doubly hard blow.
Alastair of Alastair's Heart Monitor is, for understandable reasons, about to call time on what, for me, could be the greatest blog out there.
No other site on the internet has ever held my attention on such a wide range of subjects - from the frequently bizarre world of Scottish football to rare Beatles tracks; from the dangerously barmy natives of North America to the spectacularly entertaining world of the libel courts.
Through Alastair's site, I've often been sent out into the wider world in search of further information - rare soul tracks, classic novels and vintage football footage.
While you still have the chance, I'd urge you all to visit Alastair's site, trawl through his archives and re-emerge into the world around you hours later, a plethora of new knowledge fighting for space in your brain.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
My Life In Movies
As seen over at Inchy's site - the My Life In Movies meme.
The premise is simple - pick your favourite movie from every year since you were born.
My list is below - feel free to offer your thoughts. As for tagging further players, everyone can play along if they want to.
1980 - The Empire Strikes Back
1981 - Raiders of the Lost Ark
1982 - ET
1983 - Scarface/Return of the Jedi (Tie)
1984 - The Terminator
1985 - Back To The Future
1986 - Aliens
1987 - Full Metal Jacket
1988 - A Fish Called Wanda
1989 - Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade
1990 - Goodfellas
1991 - Terminator 2
1992 - Reservoir Dogs
1993 - Groundhog Day
1994 - Forrest Gump/Pulp Fiction (Tie)
1995 - The Usual Suspects (Also nominated - Se7en, Casino)
1996 - Trainspotting
1997 - LA Confidential
1998 - The Big Lebowski
1999 - Fight Club
2000 - Memento
2001 - Donnie Darko
2002 - The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers
2003 - Kill Bill: Volume 1
2004 - Kill Bill: Volume 2
2005 - The Revenge of The Sith
2006 - Casino Royale
2007 - No Country For Old Men
2008 - The Dark Knight (I've not actually seen it yet, but it looks AWESOME)
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Presidential Sweet
As seen over at Big Stupid Tommy's:
1. Take out your iPod (or Zune, I guess...really, who buys a Zune?)
2. Press shuffle songs.
3. Answer the following:
a) How many songs before you come to one that would absolutely disqualify you from being President?
b) What is that song?
4. Leave your answers.
There are a number of things that disqualify me from ever being President of the United States of America:
1. I'm a member of neither the Republican nor Democrat political parties.
2. I don't understand how the US political system works.
3. I don't believe in God, and I'm quite vocal about it.
4. I'm not American.
But hey, supposing that for a moment (or 10 years at least) I was a member of one of the major American political parties, I understood what senate, primaries and the House of Representatives are, I believed in Him and I was a US citizen born and raised on the other side of the Atlantic.
I'm on a private jet with a few reporters, and my iPod is on shuffle in the background. How many songs in would we be before my campaign was in tatters?
Incredibly, on this play, probably one.
First up, Out Of Space by The Prodigy. From their proper rave days. The same period when they released a song entitled Their Law. The opening line of which is "Fuck 'em, and their law".
Out Of Space itself isn't quite as anti-office as that, but I'm guessing it wouldn't endear me to the bible belt voters.
My fellow (non)countrymen, it is with a heavy heart that I have to declare myself out of the 2008 US presidential race, thanks to Liam Howlett and Keith Flint.
(By the by, if The Prodigy didn't kill my election dream, the fifth track shuffled up, Finders Fuckers by Isa and The Filthy Tongues, probably would.)
1. Take out your iPod (or Zune, I guess...really, who buys a Zune?)
2. Press shuffle songs.
3. Answer the following:
a) How many songs before you come to one that would absolutely disqualify you from being President?
b) What is that song?
4. Leave your answers.
There are a number of things that disqualify me from ever being President of the United States of America:
1. I'm a member of neither the Republican nor Democrat political parties.
2. I don't understand how the US political system works.
3. I don't believe in God, and I'm quite vocal about it.
4. I'm not American.
But hey, supposing that for a moment (or 10 years at least) I was a member of one of the major American political parties, I understood what senate, primaries and the House of Representatives are, I believed in Him and I was a US citizen born and raised on the other side of the Atlantic.
I'm on a private jet with a few reporters, and my iPod is on shuffle in the background. How many songs in would we be before my campaign was in tatters?
Incredibly, on this play, probably one.
First up, Out Of Space by The Prodigy. From their proper rave days. The same period when they released a song entitled Their Law. The opening line of which is "Fuck 'em, and their law".
Out Of Space itself isn't quite as anti-office as that, but I'm guessing it wouldn't endear me to the bible belt voters.
My fellow (non)countrymen, it is with a heavy heart that I have to declare myself out of the 2008 US presidential race, thanks to Liam Howlett and Keith Flint.
(By the by, if The Prodigy didn't kill my election dream, the fifth track shuffled up, Finders Fuckers by Isa and The Filthy Tongues, probably would.)
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Groanin' Jock's Chinglish Adventures Volume I: You're Polite People
Well, we're home, and thoroughly exhausted by the combination of walking around one of the world's biggest, noisiest, dustiest, smoggiest cities, not to mention the jetlag and the fact that I was back in work at a time scandalously close to the arse crack of dawn yesterday.
Given that this is my "I'm home" post, I don't want to go into too much detail on what happened in China, but I'll come back to it in the fullness of time.
Instead, I'll firstly thank the wonderful guest posters who have filled the empty pages here at Dungroanin' during my absence - Misssy M, Erica, The Tomahawk Kid and Rachel - all of whom have done a far better job than me of being witty, entertaining and articulate.
And I'll also begin a brand new series right here, right now: Groanin' Jock's Chinglish Adventures.
Chinglish is a curious language that exists only in China. This peculiar written language tends to occur in places where Chinese directions or instructions have been translated into English in a less than coherent manner. And in Shanghai, they can be found everywhere - on street signs, in museums, in the printed media and on people's clothes.
This first one is from a street sign at a pedestrian crossing in central Shaghai.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Music, Sweet Music, I Wish I Could Caress
Well, hi peeps. I’m Erica, and I’ll just come right out and say it: I am a very, very, very bad guest poster, who has been absolutely yanking her hair out from their follicular roots, trying to figure out what to write while Mark is yukking it up with Mrs. Wife in Shanghai.
Anyhow, I was sitting here at my job thinking to myself, “I really gotta put a post up — but what??,” even though, to channel Langston Hughes, my own blog is beginning to “crust and sugar over — like a syrupy sweet,” but still…no excuses. I need to figure out what to write.
And then, it came to me.
Mark — who I was “introduced” to by Eric, and who is also a fellow newspaper peep (I work for a chain of local weeklies here in Brooklyn, USA) — has the unusual distinction of being only one of two or three other bloggers on my blogroll who are younger than me, and a fine blogger he is, and yet, we both count ourselves among the throngs of young music listeners around the world who deem The Fab Four a favorite music group.
I refer not, of course, to Pete, Roger, John and Keith, the respective members of The Who, my favorite group growing up, nor John and Michelle Phillips, Denny Doherty, and Cass Elliot of The Mamas and the Papas (I have it on good authority that John Phillips was a total dooshbag), but rather I speak of John, Paul, George and Ringo, The Beatles.
And so, sitting here on a rainy deadline day, banging out my myriad mess of photo captions and press announcements for our Southern Brooklyn papers, and trying to keep my sleepyhead from inadvertently slamming down onto the keyboard with a mighty thwack, I try to get through it all by listening to Pandora Radio, “an automated music recommendation and Internet radio service created by the Music Genome Project.”
The entry continues (this figures prominently in my tale): “Users enter a song or artist that they enjoy, and the service responds by playing selections that are musically similar. Users provide feedback on the individual song choices — approval or disapproval — which Pandora takes into account for future selections.”
So say, even if I enter, as an example, “Franz Josef Haydn” into the search box, Pandora will probably play me some early Mozart symphony, and maybe even a little pre-Romantic Beethoven, which is musically somewhat reminiscent of Mozart.
But back to The Fab Four. After having gone on a somewhat lengthy hiatus from them, we’re talking years and years, suddenly I craved The Beatles, which I typed into the “create a new station” search box, and not only have I been able to satisfactorily scratch my niggling Beatles itch, with Pandora providing me with a plethora of awesome classic rock tunage, but I also got to hear lots of other “musically similar” songs, such as John Lennon’s “Jealous Guy,” Led Zeppelin’s “Bron-Y-Aur Stomp,” and a buncha stuff by The Hollies, a very cool band; this is one of my favorites from them, though the video is a mite creepy.
As I hinged nearer and nearer to a comatose state at work, barely able to focus, it occurred to me in a rather abrupt, yet lucid, moment, that of all the Beatles songs Pandora has gifted me with over the past few weeks, including “A Day In The Life,” “Golden Slumbers / Carry That Weight” (the first song[s] I ever got stoned to, back when that was a thing I used to do), and “Paperback Writer,” the one song I have not yet heard — the Holy Grail of Beatles love songs, the modest little ditty which somehow slipped through the cracks of being queued amongst the mélange of other classic rock tunes — was “In My Life.”
WTF? How can such a travesty even be?
I know what you’re thinking: “Geeeeeez, so what?? Get to the friggin’ point already!!” And I will, no need to be tetchy, but anyways, here’s the point to my loooong story, which I thought was really weird and kind of even a little magical: The minute I thought to myself, while listening to “Wild Horses” by The Stones, “Why don’t they ever play ‘In My Life?,’ right after “Wild Horses” ended, guess what song came on? I scheisse youse not.
And since I’m the only person who could A) hear my inner thoughts, and B) hear what’s playing on my headphones, although I am told by coworkers to turn the volume down every once in a while, especially when AC/DC (another of Mark’s faves) or Metallica comes on, I couldn’t exactly SHARE my special private moment with anybody else in the room, ya dig? I mean, yes…technically, I could have, but I could have just as easily made the whole thing up, even though, honest injun I didn’t, but also…would anyone really have cared?
Probably not.
Yannow what, though? I never met Mark, but I have met the aforelinkedto Eric, and they two are good buds (I’m sure the AC/DC video Eric posted, right after he came back from Scotland, had somewhat to do with his falling under Mark’s influence), and one thing us thirty-somethings have in common (wait, Mark…are you even 30 yet? Or did you just turn 29?) is that we take our music very seriously, and I just know Mark would have cared.
And that, children, is only part of why I am a loyal reader of Groanin’ Jock. The other reason being, I just fancy the way the guy looks in a kilt.
Anyhow, I was sitting here at my job thinking to myself, “I really gotta put a post up — but what??,” even though, to channel Langston Hughes, my own blog is beginning to “crust and sugar over — like a syrupy sweet,” but still…no excuses. I need to figure out what to write.
And then, it came to me.
Mark — who I was “introduced” to by Eric, and who is also a fellow newspaper peep (I work for a chain of local weeklies here in Brooklyn, USA) — has the unusual distinction of being only one of two or three other bloggers on my blogroll who are younger than me, and a fine blogger he is, and yet, we both count ourselves among the throngs of young music listeners around the world who deem The Fab Four a favorite music group.
I refer not, of course, to Pete, Roger, John and Keith, the respective members of The Who, my favorite group growing up, nor John and Michelle Phillips, Denny Doherty, and Cass Elliot of The Mamas and the Papas (I have it on good authority that John Phillips was a total dooshbag), but rather I speak of John, Paul, George and Ringo, The Beatles.
And so, sitting here on a rainy deadline day, banging out my myriad mess of photo captions and press announcements for our Southern Brooklyn papers, and trying to keep my sleepyhead from inadvertently slamming down onto the keyboard with a mighty thwack, I try to get through it all by listening to Pandora Radio, “an automated music recommendation and Internet radio service created by the Music Genome Project.”
The entry continues (this figures prominently in my tale): “Users enter a song or artist that they enjoy, and the service responds by playing selections that are musically similar. Users provide feedback on the individual song choices — approval or disapproval — which Pandora takes into account for future selections.”
So say, even if I enter, as an example, “Franz Josef Haydn” into the search box, Pandora will probably play me some early Mozart symphony, and maybe even a little pre-Romantic Beethoven, which is musically somewhat reminiscent of Mozart.
But back to The Fab Four. After having gone on a somewhat lengthy hiatus from them, we’re talking years and years, suddenly I craved The Beatles, which I typed into the “create a new station” search box, and not only have I been able to satisfactorily scratch my niggling Beatles itch, with Pandora providing me with a plethora of awesome classic rock tunage, but I also got to hear lots of other “musically similar” songs, such as John Lennon’s “Jealous Guy,” Led Zeppelin’s “Bron-Y-Aur Stomp,” and a buncha stuff by The Hollies, a very cool band; this is one of my favorites from them, though the video is a mite creepy.
As I hinged nearer and nearer to a comatose state at work, barely able to focus, it occurred to me in a rather abrupt, yet lucid, moment, that of all the Beatles songs Pandora has gifted me with over the past few weeks, including “A Day In The Life,” “Golden Slumbers / Carry That Weight” (the first song[s] I ever got stoned to, back when that was a thing I used to do), and “Paperback Writer,” the one song I have not yet heard — the Holy Grail of Beatles love songs, the modest little ditty which somehow slipped through the cracks of being queued amongst the mélange of other classic rock tunes — was “In My Life.”
WTF? How can such a travesty even be?
I know what you’re thinking: “Geeeeeez, so what?? Get to the friggin’ point already!!” And I will, no need to be tetchy, but anyways, here’s the point to my loooong story, which I thought was really weird and kind of even a little magical: The minute I thought to myself, while listening to “Wild Horses” by The Stones, “Why don’t they ever play ‘In My Life?,’ right after “Wild Horses” ended, guess what song came on? I scheisse youse not.
And since I’m the only person who could A) hear my inner thoughts, and B) hear what’s playing on my headphones, although I am told by coworkers to turn the volume down every once in a while, especially when AC/DC (another of Mark’s faves) or Metallica comes on, I couldn’t exactly SHARE my special private moment with anybody else in the room, ya dig? I mean, yes…technically, I could have, but I could have just as easily made the whole thing up, even though, honest injun I didn’t, but also…would anyone really have cared?
Probably not.
Yannow what, though? I never met Mark, but I have met the aforelinkedto Eric, and they two are good buds (I’m sure the AC/DC video Eric posted, right after he came back from Scotland, had somewhat to do with his falling under Mark’s influence), and one thing us thirty-somethings have in common (wait, Mark…are you even 30 yet? Or did you just turn 29?) is that we take our music very seriously, and I just know Mark would have cared.
And that, children, is only part of why I am a loyal reader of Groanin’ Jock. The other reason being, I just fancy the way the guy looks in a kilt.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Chee-ree-oh, We're Off To China
The next time you hear from me, I'll either be in China or back from China.
Be nice to the guest posters.
If anyone needs us, we'll be with Paul Langmead.
Be nice to the guest posters.
If anyone needs us, we'll be with Paul Langmead.
Getting Ready
I'm tired, thanks to getting home late last night after playing in the Aberdeen Oil League then watching the UEFA Cup Final.
I couldn't possibly pass on mentioning the Rangers match, disappointing though the result was.
But if anyone had told me at the start of the season that Rangers would play in a European final within the next year, I would have thought them insane.
The better team won last night, but Rangers played to their strengths, defending (fairly) solidly and looking to catch Zenit on the break.
And in the second half, just as it looked as though Rangers might take the lead through their continued pressure, Zenit scored, and the match was over.
So yes, I'm disappointed, but extremely proud of the club for having made it to Manchester in the first place. Now we can turn our attentions to the league....
The next few days are likely to be spent in a blur as I attempt to get all my shit together before flying off to China. But even before then, I'm going to be a busy boy. Tonight, Dungroanin' will be graced by Eric, my Blogfather and everyone's favourite Heterosexual Caucasian Male, and his wife Fiona, who are in these frozen northern climes for a holiday.
So we'll catch up, set the world to rights and share a drink or two, safe in the knowledge that neither of us has to work the next day.
Friday will be spent packing and preparing everything for departure to Shanghai, including delivering Mrs Wife's rabbits, Pepper and Dylan, to a rabbit boarding establishment. Yep, such a thing exists.
That will be followed by the Dirty Pretty Things concert in Dundee, which should be pretty darn good, what with DPT being a Libertines/Cooper Temple Clause indie supergroup. Which will, in turn, be followed by a night in a hotel at Glasgow airport before we jet off.
I'm not sure whether I'll be able to blog while I'm away, so I've arranged for a few kind souls to drop by and keep both my readers amused in the interim. And they're likely to be so good that my presence here will no longer be required.
I couldn't possibly pass on mentioning the Rangers match, disappointing though the result was.
But if anyone had told me at the start of the season that Rangers would play in a European final within the next year, I would have thought them insane.
The better team won last night, but Rangers played to their strengths, defending (fairly) solidly and looking to catch Zenit on the break.
And in the second half, just as it looked as though Rangers might take the lead through their continued pressure, Zenit scored, and the match was over.
So yes, I'm disappointed, but extremely proud of the club for having made it to Manchester in the first place. Now we can turn our attentions to the league....
The next few days are likely to be spent in a blur as I attempt to get all my shit together before flying off to China. But even before then, I'm going to be a busy boy. Tonight, Dungroanin' will be graced by Eric, my Blogfather and everyone's favourite Heterosexual Caucasian Male, and his wife Fiona, who are in these frozen northern climes for a holiday.
So we'll catch up, set the world to rights and share a drink or two, safe in the knowledge that neither of us has to work the next day.
Friday will be spent packing and preparing everything for departure to Shanghai, including delivering Mrs Wife's rabbits, Pepper and Dylan, to a rabbit boarding establishment. Yep, such a thing exists.
That will be followed by the Dirty Pretty Things concert in Dundee, which should be pretty darn good, what with DPT being a Libertines/Cooper Temple Clause indie supergroup. Which will, in turn, be followed by a night in a hotel at Glasgow airport before we jet off.
I'm not sure whether I'll be able to blog while I'm away, so I've arranged for a few kind souls to drop by and keep both my readers amused in the interim. And they're likely to be so good that my presence here will no longer be required.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
No Capital Punishment
The sun was splitting the sky in Edinburgh this afternoon, and it was a good day to be on holiday in our nation's fair capital.
My journey was one of necessity, as I needed to collect my own and Mrs Wife's passports from the Chinese Consulate. An early start meant that I arrived as the mid morning sun was starting to warm up, and my business with the Chinese was concluded in only a few short minutes.
Which meant that the day was at my disposal. When left unattended in cities, I tend to migrate towards shops selling cheap CDs, DVDs, books and clothes. And so it proved today.
In a day of pounding the streets, I managed to pick up Anchorman (which I've never seen), Mallrats and Super Furry Animals' Phantom Power on DVD, as well as Radiohead's Com Lag and We Are Scientists' Crap Attack on CD.
The latter purchase was made less than 24 hours after seeing We Are Scientists perform a fantastic gig at Aberdeen Music Hall. Though their recently-released second album lacks the punch and catchy tunes of their debut, the WAS set was fantastic from beginning to end. Unfortunately, it was preceded by two chronically abysmal support bands and a cack-handed roadie struggling to tune the instruments, but all that was forgotten once WAS had hit their stride.
But I digress. In Edinburgh today, I also managed to pick up The Broons and Oor Wullie 1946-1956: The Golden Years and Hearts - The Diary of An Incredible Season. I'm especially looking forward to reading the latter title, as it was written by Mike Smith, a recent visitor to this far-flung outpost of the worldwide interweb and himself a fellow denizen of the blogosphere.
The drive home took place in glorious sunshine, and even the slow-moving traffic between Edinburgh and the Forth Bridge, and in Dundee, wasn't enough to dampen the spirits.
Roll on work and a chance to mock some Aberdeen fans tomorrow.
My journey was one of necessity, as I needed to collect my own and Mrs Wife's passports from the Chinese Consulate. An early start meant that I arrived as the mid morning sun was starting to warm up, and my business with the Chinese was concluded in only a few short minutes.
Which meant that the day was at my disposal. When left unattended in cities, I tend to migrate towards shops selling cheap CDs, DVDs, books and clothes. And so it proved today.
In a day of pounding the streets, I managed to pick up Anchorman (which I've never seen), Mallrats and Super Furry Animals' Phantom Power on DVD, as well as Radiohead's Com Lag and We Are Scientists' Crap Attack on CD.
The latter purchase was made less than 24 hours after seeing We Are Scientists perform a fantastic gig at Aberdeen Music Hall. Though their recently-released second album lacks the punch and catchy tunes of their debut, the WAS set was fantastic from beginning to end. Unfortunately, it was preceded by two chronically abysmal support bands and a cack-handed roadie struggling to tune the instruments, but all that was forgotten once WAS had hit their stride.
But I digress. In Edinburgh today, I also managed to pick up The Broons and Oor Wullie 1946-1956: The Golden Years and Hearts - The Diary of An Incredible Season. I'm especially looking forward to reading the latter title, as it was written by Mike Smith, a recent visitor to this far-flung outpost of the worldwide interweb and himself a fellow denizen of the blogosphere.
The drive home took place in glorious sunshine, and even the slow-moving traffic between Edinburgh and the Forth Bridge, and in Dundee, wasn't enough to dampen the spirits.
Roll on work and a chance to mock some Aberdeen fans tomorrow.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Blank
I am (allegedly) a professional writer.
I don't intend that to sound like some wanky self-aggrandising statement of my writing abilities - it's merely a statement that means I get paid to write stuff.
But being a professional writer means that I shouldn't now be sitting staring at a blank page (well, blank screen) pondering what nonsense to commit to the blogosphere.
That's not really the case though. Just because my employer is kind enough to fill my bank account at the end of each month for committing words to page, doesn't mean that I have any inspiration to write witty, intelligent and thoughtful discourse here on the worldwide interweb.
(I've never written anything witty, intelligent or thoughtful in 18 months of online gibberish to date, and I'm not about to start now.)
Basically, I get paid to translate the machinations of the oil industry into commercial gold, information that can help keep cars running and PlayStations in production around the world.
Inspiration isn't one of the job requirements. I never really have to start at the 'blank page' level.
But here - well I can write about anything I like or dislike. Nothing is taboo, no sacred cow is so sacred it can't be butchered.
And therein lies the problem - where do I start? How do I even begin to tackle the sheer volume of stuff happening in the world today, the weight of history behind it and the possibilities ahead of it?
Hmmm, maybe I can't - maybe I should stick to what I know best - weird folk from the internet:
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