Weezer - Hurley

The only thing you really need to know about this band is that there is really, really good Weezer...and really, really shitty Weezer. Until now.

Ok… So the good news is that the unfortunately titled, “Hurley”, an album that may be named after the “Lost” character (played by Jorge Garcia, whose face adorns the cover looking like the love child of the late Dom Deluise) is Rivers and the boys’ best effort in a decade.

"It's definitely me on the cover, oh yes!"

The bad news is that it (like every release since the abysmal “Make Believe” album) is touched by cynicism, riddled with pedantic lyrics, and inflated with far too much bombast and far too little of the wistful sentiment that made their first two records so beloved by an adoring and forgiving legion of Weezerheads.

This is not to say that it is a total loss…It’s not by any means. In fact, songwriting-wise (if you can manage to peel away three or four coats of injudiciously slopped on and lacquer-y production) it is a return to the straight ahead pop blazers of the “Blue Album”, albeit a 2010 version, which means no guitar solos, no herky-jerky harmonies and no clever words… and no heart… for the most part.
Those elements that initially made Weezer so exceptional are now replaced with ultra-lush (read over polished) harmonies, headache inducing wall-of-sound guitars and lines like the Post-Beatles-McCartney-esquely pedestrian, “Hang on til I see you again, I’m gonna be more than a friend” a chorus that would’ve never seen daylight in the “Buddy Holly” days.
In short this is fairly lazy music, performed and written by a genius, savant-like songwriter with infinite talent and a professional, studio savvy backing group that are 40+ years old and content with the good life that has been provided for them by a fanbase that’s been expecting their first two albums from them for 16 years and never getting it.
It’s no matter though, because they have, in the interim, picked up enough younger (less discerning) fans on the strength of cash-in singles like “Beverly Hills” and “(If You’re Wondering if I Want You Too) I Want You To)” that it’s become obvious that they don’t feel the need to live up to the weight of those two classics.

Despite all this, there are some really fine moments on the album, particularly the stunning “Unspoken” with its gorgeous flute mellotron, string adornments and strikingly powerful ending and the closing tune; the succinctly philosophical, twelve-string stomper “Time Flies”, maybe their two best compositions since “Pinkerton”. Songs so good, in fact, that they lift the entire album from mediocre to good…. and it’s not coincidental that both sport terrific lyrics, which proves that Rivers still can pump them out when he wants to.

Besides those two gems, the opening trio of tunes (the nostalgic “Memories”, the “Blue”-ish, “Ruling Me” and the acerbic love song “Trainwrecks”) are very solid barn burners. The rest is listenable candy-ish filler that demolishes anything off of “Raditude”, which is saying something.

In the end, the question is will this album be a transition back to the kind of music that they are capable of? I don’t know…maybe.
if you haven’t guessed, I’M one of those sad, adoring and forgiving Weezerheads, who hope beyond hope that one day that the boys will turn it around.
They seem to be on their way to doing just that, and hopefully some of the younger generation will catch on to the band like everyone did in 1994 and save us from Nickelback and Chad Kroegers’ hair.

"Don't diss my hair Fizzee you bitch!"

Liechtenstein

Liechtenstein has had some lows in its time: constantly getting mixed up with Luxembourg; having a pointless "e" as its third letter; and that time back in the early 90s when an epic battle between 100-foot tall mutant firebreathing kestrels laid waste to its wine industry. I may have made that last bit up.

But last night came the mother of all balls-ups as Liechtenstein lost to little-known minnows Scotland in the Euro 2012 qualifiers.
Admittedly Scotland do have some international pedigree, having once scored a good goal against Holland in the 1978 World Cup, but they're also the team responsible for that draw with the Faroe Islands, that other draw with the Faroe Islands, that loss to Costa Rica that Nigel Quashie, and those Andy Gorams.

Understandably, after coming from behind to beat a team that was superior to them for much of the match, Scotland coach Craig Levein was jubilant. "It can be a turning point because there is a big difference between two and four points," cheered Levein, displaying his head for figures. "I am a happy man, the stats show we are top [of our qualifying group] and that is the most important thing."

Meanwhile, Scotland captain Darren Fletcher revealed what it is that makes Liechtenstein such a dangerous force in international football: their use of tactics never seen before on the field of play. "To lose the goal was really disappointing and it was a real battle from then on," bleated Fletcher, whose fans booed the Liechtenstein anthem because it uses the same tune as God Save the Queen. (not the Sex Pistols version, although I can't help but think it would have been greatly improved if it was.)
Battling? Getting men behind the ball? No wonder it took your team until the 354th minute to score the winner. Its the kind of chicanery a guild of thieves would be proud of, Darren. Next time just get the firebreathing kestrels on the Liechtensteiners, they hate that kind of thing.

"Is that a fire breathing Kestrel? "

Terry Jones

Not the little funny dude from Monty Python, but a man who -whilst masquerading as a pastor of a church in Gainesville, Florida- is planning on burning a large stack of the Muslim holy book, the Quran.
On the 11th of september.

The event has been publicised on the church's Facebook page where they have  received over 1,500 messages of support. All from morons, presumably. The church, which boasts over 300 members, is no stranger to controversy having previously spoken out against homosexuality and abortion.
Last year they put up a sign on their grounds that read 'Islam is the Devil'  triggering numerous threats to burn the church down.
US officials are powerless to stop the protest which has been condemned by The National Association of Evangelicals.
How can anyone think these are the actions of a sane man? What sort of Christian promotes hate towards others?
The final irony of course being that Jones wants to rid the world of "radicals". On you go then Tel, start with yourself.

Terry Jones yesterday, being a bit of a dick.

Bonanza

Winter appears to have returned to northern Scotland today, it's cold, grey and wet-oh joy, only 7 months until the sun comes out again.
Sorry, I digress. Watching the TV earlier an ad caught my attention - it was for a magazine in 572 (or some other unfeasibly large amount) parts......building into a fine collection......first one £2.99......all the others £7.99.......you know the type, they're usually for awful crockery or the Marie Celeste, that sort of thing -

"You too could own a scale replica of the titanic in only 824 weeks!"

Yeah, sure, and it'd only cost me £4,000.

Anyway, the thing that made me pay attention this time was that it was for the old TV series Bonanza. Yes, the same Bonaza that has been repeated to death on every two-bit satellite channel forever.

Who, I should like to know, is spending £7..99 a week on the part work offering "three full episodes of the TV show Bonanza on DVD, and a companion guide"? And why would you need a companion guide? I seem to remember the show, which ran from 1959 to 1973, as a fairly routine soap opera, which could easily be followed without guidance, even if I mainly viewed it through the wrong side of a balaclava while humming Sweet's latest toe-tapper. Maybe I missed the finer points of the show.

Bonanza was chiefly famous for its theme tune which went "dum da da dum da da dum dum Bonanza" - a sound now exclusive to small engined Korean cars-, and for the fact that, for unspecified reasons, they used to set fire to a map at the start of the show.

It starred Lorne Green, -who went on to star in the original Battlestar Galactica- an actor with a dark brown voice and a silvery grey toupée, as the patriarch of the Ponderosa Ranch, a widower living with his three sons; one obese, a handsome one always dressed in black, and another I have forgotten.
Each week one of them would get into some sort of scrape, but the family would rally round proving that a good, wholesome American family could defeat any kind of evil (code for communism I suspect, although I missed that at the time).

My parents enjoyed the show, ignoring my innuendoes about the boys, who were often to be found in the proximity of pretty girls with pinched waists and neat bosoms, but, like Liberace and Benny Hill, could "never find the right woman to settle down with".

Hmm, I wonder why.

Dum da da dum da da dum dum 

Short musings and thoughts

The earthquake that hit the South Island of New Zealand last week was actually stronger that the one that killed a quarter of a million people and virtually destroyed the entire infrastrucure of Haiti.
Thankfully no-one in NZ was killed, but it shows that if you have the resources and finances to build stuff properly your chances of survival increase massively. The big clean up has started down there already, and although the damage to the country will be measured in billions of dollars, they'll be ok soon enough.

"The bloody ground go shaky"

The US Coastguard has arrested a piece of machinery. A blowout preventer to be precise-the bit of the oil well which is supposed to stop the thing exploding. No, I'm not making this up, Admiral Thad Allen, a retired Coast Guard commander in overall charge of the operation to gather evidence for a possible lawsuit against BP declared that the preventer "will be taken into custody" and become part of the "evidence material that's been required by the joint investigative team. 

I imagine the 350 tonne, 50 ft high lump of steel is on the phone to it's lawyer as we speak.

"Get me Lionel Hutz right now!"

Light sculptures.

Done by Chilean born artist Ivan Navarro, I think these look great.

More here

Finally today, as I was scooting about the web looking for funny, weird, cool or just plain interesting things to tell you about, I came across what may be the single most harrowing picture I've ever seen.

If you want to know about the true cost of the Pakistan floods, look below. 

A warning, this picture is extremely upsetting - and for once I'm not joking. Not even I can joke about this.

top 10 albums you might not know.

No 1. Placebo - Meds

Let’s face it, Placebo have never been much of an ‘uplifting’ kind of band, and are more a soundtrack to committing suicide than a party anthem heavy outfit, not that that's necessarily a bad thing, as you'll find out when you read on.
Meds a rip-roaring effort packed with cracking moments, yet it was also their most human collection of work. 
The dark themes remain, coupled with the melancholy guitar riffs that made them so addictive. Yet there are also moments of beauty that demonstrate a confident band that is continually striving to evolve.
What’s more, there are a couple of telling collaborations that really do make Meds a downright essential prescription to get hold of.
Alison Mosshart, of The Kills, guests on album opener and title track Meds, adding extra intensity to the tragic tale of fragile souls freaking out because they’ve forgotten to take their medication. I suspect this may be based on real life.
It’s a souped-up, searing introduction to the album that thrives on the vocal chemistry between Brian Molko and Mosshart that eases effortlessly into the adrenaline rush that is Infra-Red, another molten barnstormer.
Again, it dwells on illness and foreboding with lyrics such as ‘someone call the ambulance, there’s going to be an accident’.
Having got off to such a rip-roaring start, however, the album sometimes struggles to maintain such high standards.
Drag is a business-like rocker, while Space Monkey explores the mysterious, haunting side of the band and is only partially successful.
But normal service is resumed during the beautiful, thoughtful ballad Follow The Cops Back Home, which is constructed around some achingly poignant hooks and Molko’s sincere, heartbreaking vocals. It is undoubtedly one of the album’s highlights.
Post Blue contains some provocative guitar riffs to match the emotive lyrics (‘it’s in the water baby, it’s in the way we fuck’), while lead single Because I Want You capably demonstrates the band’s ability to flirt with the mainstream, emerging as an impassioned yet upbeat plea not to give up on love.
The single brings us to two more album highlights, the melancholy Blind which marries some truly addictive guitar hooks with some tender piano chords, and the excellent Broken Promises, the band’s duet with REM’s Michael Stipe, that drips with quality.
Beginning slowly, the track drops Stipe’s atmospheric vocals to haunting effect, before unleashing Molko’s amid a flurry of violent guitars and angry, angry emotions. It’s a rousing, inspiring onslaught that succeeds in raising the hairs on the back of your neck.
In between is the equally magnificent Pierrot The Clown, shifting tones again to more melancholy pastures.

I love Meds, and while I know the album (and the band) are not for everyone, check it out - you might be surprised.

Yesterday

Don't panic, I'm not about to launch into a Beatles medley (mainly because I've always thought they were crap-but that's a post for another day), but yesterday, in addition to being my birthday (How old? -Very) it was the end of the football transfer window. How exciting.

It was like National Bloke in Car Park Day yesterday, as across the country gentlemen were donning their suits and taking to their nearest tarmaced surface for a full day of not-doing-anything-really thrills.
Sky Sports News, bankrolled as they are by Rupert Murdoch's billions as well as my own £40 a month, went a little over the top and had outside broadcast crews on hand to record evidence that their blokes were indeed in car parks and that they were not doing anything really.
David Craig in Sunderland had a bacon sandwich, a chap in Stoke bumped into Salif Diao, and someone in Liverpool saw Ryan Babel get into a helicopter and fly south, leading to widespread assumptions that the rapping wide-man was heading for "the Midlands, or London somewhere, or the south coast, or Paris, or Lyon, or Libya, just depends how much fuel he's got really, and whether he keeps going in a straight line" and ... hang on ... News just reaching us from Watford General hospital, where a bloke called Jim has arrived with a bunch of flowers and put £2 into the pay-and-display machine! "Incredible scenes here," screams a dull looking man "Jim just pulled in, stormed out of his car and paid up for anything up to two hours. Looks like he could be planning to stay for some time. Back to you Brian."

The one thing of note that did happen was Robinho going from Man City to Milan, for quite a lot less than they paid for him not that long ago.
Did a man stand about looking gormless in the San Siro car park waving his lunch around and shouting about this momentous event? No, of course not, that would have been silly.

Robinho yesterday, sad to be leaving Manchester