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Category Archives: Music

I’m doing a little blogging for the gals over at Some recent posts have been about the pleasure/pain principle of Bordello Teeze shoes, a how-to on perfecting the beehive do and my most recent post, on achieving a perfect hourglass shape. It’s not just because I’m involved but it’s become one of the first sites I check on a daily basis for witty commentary, keeping up with the cultural buzz, ideas for fashion fixes and beauty brainwaves plus an all-round great little slice of what’s going on in Dublin today. So in the words of the mighty Beyonce Knowles, go check on it.

To celebrate its birthday, for today and today only, WeGotTickets are having a booking free day so whatever gigs you’ve been eyeing up today is a good day to purchase! I just got my Woven Hand ticket for their London show for £13.00. No extra £3 or £4 in charges, just a sweet little deal at £13. I believe we call this a WIN.

Like Hank III? Like a little rockabilly? Well meet Wayne The Train Hancock, a chappy that the littlest of all the Hank Williams calls an inspiration. Hank III reckons he’s realer than him and his Pappy put together: “Wayne Hancock has more Hank SR in him than either I or Hank Williams JR. He is the real deal.

It’s this Monday in The Luminaire in Kilburn. Very very exciting. Boys, grab your stetsons. Ladies, well heck, grab yours too.

PS This is the start of a killer week of rockabilly in the Luminaire, Ireland’s finest Imelda May on Wednesday and Thursday with support to the one, the only, Wanda Jackson. Yeehaww :]

I went to see Andrew WK a few years ago. Well actually about 10 years ago on an NME Brat Pack tour. I hadn’t thought about him since but then this article came up in the Guardian. Jesus wept. It’s some stalker song he wrote for a girl in high school. It’s years before it’s time. Listen, it’s hilarious. And while mean to roll about in someone else’s humiliation, it’s glorious.

Go forth and listen:

My current ‘book’ of choice is The Dirt, the Motley Crue biography, only out, what, about nine years now?
It’s hysterical, in the humorous sense, but also in what they do. If ever there were a book about excess that wasn’t written by Hunter S Thomson, then surely this is it. However, the more I read, the more I fear for my soul. There’s stories of guitar head insertion into willing females, self abuse and Satanism. None of that worries me in the slightest, it’s more the affect it may have on readers.
I’m not Tipper Gore, I like metal, I like rock and roll and as far as I’m concerned glorify what you want and do what you want, but that doesn’t stop me having a few moments of reflection after realising I’ve been tittering away about yet another hilarious anecdote where some woman’s been dehumanised and demeaned. But that’s rock and roll. Right? This here’s a strange/no place for a post feminist.

This article about Gaddafi banning Europeans travelling to Libya, on the whole, is not funny what with serious implications for business and personal safety of Europeans in the country. But the last paragraph is hilarious. Bar the domestic abuse:

“Muammar Gaddafi bears a grudge towards the Swiss because of an incident involving his son in July 2008. Hannibal Gaddafi and his wife were arrested in Geneva for allegedly beating two of their servants at a luxury hotel. They were charged with maltreating their domestic staff, but released on bail. The Libyan leader was so enraged by his son’s two-day detention that he shut local subsidiaries of Swiss companies in Libya, had two Swiss businessmen arrested, cancelled most flights between the two countries and withdrew about $5bn (£3.2bn) from his Swiss bank accounts. Last year, he submitted a proposal to the UN to abolish Switzerland and divide it up between Germany, France and Italy.”

As you do.

I was on The Hype Machine earlier, and came across a cover of The Ronettes’ ‘Be my baby’ by We Are Scientists. The classic Ronettes’ original version is one of my favourite songs and almost always gets a turn when I’m djing, and the We Are Scientists version is fine too, but it reminded me of something funny a few years ago.
I have millions of nieces and nephews, or if we’re going to get technical, 13. So I’m in my local shopping centre with my two nephews, aged 5 and 7 at the time, and and I take them into a music store to buy a dvd. As we’re walking across the store my nephew tugged my coat and pointed at an album – “Auntie Tish, is that the Pussycat Dolls?”.
I look forward to reminding them when they’re 15.
And while I’m hyping stuff up, check out my new favourites song – Aloe Blacc – ‘I need a dollar‘. Trust a sister. It’s deadly.

If, like I, you’ve been waiting for something from Gil Scott Heron, than 16 years is a long time to wait.I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been bating my breath since I was 12 because I really wasn’t that cool or informed, but this for me since The Revolution Will Not Be Televised became essential listening at 18, I’m New Here has been a long time coming, and the link to listen is right here.

I can throw up something like ‘it’s worth the wait’, but three songs in and he’s got me. At various moments it’s tender, slick, devilish and desolate and in being in work is the worst time to listen to something like this. No bones about, I’ll be buying this album and I think you should do.

Some advice from the man himself:

There is a proper procedure for taking advantage of any investment.

Music, for example. Buying a CD is an investment.
To get the maximum you must


Not in your car or on a portable player through a headset.
Take it home.
Get rid of all distractions, (even him or her).
Turn off your cell phone.
Turn off everything that rings or beeps or rattles or whistles.
Make yourself comfortable.
Play your CD.
LISTEN all the way through.
Think about what you got.
Think about who would appreciate this investment.
Decide if there is someone to share this with.
Turn it on again.
Enjoy Yourself.

Gil Scott-Heron

EVERYTHING is poetry with him.

I’m New Here is now available for mass consumption. Do it. Now.

The line-up for the 2010 Bonnaroo has just been announced and is making me seriously consider taking at trip to Tennessee in June. Over the weekend of the 10th-13th, the mighty Stevie Wonder, Jay Z, Dropkick Murphys, Gaslight Anthem, GWAR, Kid Cudi and Tori Amos to name just a few of my favourites, will be playing the festival. Check it out and ting, and maybe, just maybe, see you down the front.

In an aside, I was djing in Dublin on Saturday night (at a 40th birthday party of  a family member). I played Superstition by Stevie Wonder. I have never seen a dance floor clear so fast. People over 40 should have their voting rights rescinding. No good citizen doesn’t appreciate Stevie!

Stevie Wonder/courtesy of Al Satterwhite

Does the artist define the art? Greater philosophers and music store clerks have mused over this statement long before I was in 3/4 length pants (for many years, I didn’t actually a pair of full length pants, that’s another post, for another day) but I think the question, for me, is rearing its head again. When there was some mumblings about Motorhead and Nazism (which ain’t really true, Mr Kilmeister just likes WWII memorabilia) and Slayer and the same questions (and the same answer applies, they are collectors rather than believers in the ideologies), I was initially concerned but after enough investigation, my conscience was appeased and general apathy set in. Now, however, there’s the question of Chris Brown. He battered Rihanna. No doubts. And his new song is fantastic. And therein lies my rub. He’s clearly using some element of his newly found rep as a bad boy, swaggers on up in the video and proceeds to play off Lil Wayne’s rather aggressively masculine rap about how he can transform a woman, make her into something better by talking off her pants. Putting the feminist issue aside – women as objects and as items to own – it creates a whole other question, should we or I be taking Chris Brown back into my record buying arms? Or should his extremely violent attack on girlfriend of the time Rihanna enough to relegate him from the charts and the consciousness of the record buying community? Another to bear in mind in all of this, is the horrifying statistic from last March, where almost half of all Boston public students said Rihanna was to blame for the attack, and was out to ruin Brown’s career. We really haven’t come very far at all.

Anyway, I know enough to separate the artist from the music. I’m enough of a feminist, egalitarian and intellectual to enjoy gangster rap and quality hip hop and not be mortally offended by the very anti-women sentiment. That’s my version of feminism. Having said that, I don’t like what he did. I don’t admire him personally, but I can appreciate his art.

Make your minds up for yourselves: