We’re at number 80! forever moving towards the appropriate!!
+6

Sigh…
…
…
…
We’re at number 80! forever moving towards the appropriate!!

Sigh…
…
…
…
I almost absolutely love Chairlift, and I’m almost devastated they recently split up…
+1
Their command of pop music- unarguably the greatest artform human life has thus far managed to conceive- is exquisite, and ‘Moth’ (like it +1) has ten superlative examples of their craft

In Hamburg in 1834, a young army officer, Baron von Ropp, was attempting to woo the uncommonly beautiful Countess Lodoiska, the green eyed widow of a Polish general, but was wary that the handsome young army officer Baron von Trautmasdorf posed a serious challenge for the beauty’s affections. Because this was the early 19th century, and history is fucking brilliant, Von Ropp felt the best way to lesson the threat of his rival was to slander his good name. Which he did. By writing a poem. About his moustache

Jesus, this incredible album is only 94th?? Another reason why

My mood goes in waves, see?

Mid way through 2016, which feels like roughly seventeen ice ages ago, I felt positive and excited enough to collate what were my top 13 (or something) <you should probably just check this, it looks shamefully lazy otherwise- Ed> songs of the year so far as a tantalising preview of the majesty of Necessary Evil 2016 that would arrive at the year’s end
Now, close to eighteen months later, and far too late to be of any relevance or usefulness, I’m finally naming my albums of the year after my mood hitting rock bottom around Christmas 2016 and never again quite scaling those heights since. My whole life is a fucking shambles
The waves of me mood were high and mighty in June (or July, or possibly August) 2016 <again, it would be really simple to check, it was probably the last post you made on your blog- Ed>, crashing loudly and majestically against the shore of my self-belief, and I wanted other people to know how good I felt! I feel that when my waves are high I am a markedly better person.

Back then, many beards ago, I felt like I had life sorted out, felt like I knew who I was and what I was meant to be doing. I felt happy
I was moist and ripe for Prince Rama <hmmm, less creepy phrasing, perhaps? Also: doesn’t really make sense- Ed>, and so felt confident in naming Bahia, the ludicrously upbeat opening track of the ludicrously upbeat ‘Xtreme Now’ (starts with an ‘x’, very futuristic +1), as my 7th or 8th or 12th <I mean, this is starting to look really unprofessional now- Ed> favourite song of the year
Bahia is the greatest example of the album’s modus operandi: shiny happy music for shiny happy people, and way back in 2016 I was ready to drink it in! +3

‘Modus operandi’ is a Latin phrase literally translating as ‘modelled on Oprah’, as Empower Tibirius believed that all methodology should be steered toward appearing on the Oprah Winfrey show
No, not that Oprah Winfrey, that wouldn’t make much sense, would it? Like, a Roman one…
However, one of the strange byproducts of my see-sawing moods is that when my waves are pathetically low I seem to spend much of my time obsessively analysing everything I said and did when my waves were high, and almost entirely convincing myself that I should be utterly, cripplingly ashamed of the person I am when I’m happy, like my subconscious is trying to warn me against ever enjoying life ever again. It’s fucking awful…

I get not dissimilar feelings listening to ‘Xtreme Now’ now… ‘Xtreme’ now… ‘Xtreme Now’ now now now…
These days, when I listen to ‘Xtreme Now’, I get similar emotions: the cracks are easy to spot, the imperfections all too prevalent
All too often to glum ears it can sound cheap and rushed, and if you aren’t enamoured with the record’s charisma then it can sound laughably amateur in places
Ocassionally I worry whether it solely exists in my record collection now as a sad monument to how good I used to feel…

But, then I see a picture of Prince Rama:




Really, so we’re getting Prince Points (easily a score of 7 for this album bee tea double you) and a ‘Prince Approves’ award?? Isn’t that a little bit overkill <ouch, too soon- Ed>
I can’t stay mad at you, Pri-Ram 🙂 🙂 🙂
Also: Shitopia! Loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool!!
That song starts almost exactly like Crystal Ball too. So, y’know, there’s that…
I mean… Yeah, come on… I mean… Yeah…
I’m pretty convinced I’m not doing the maths correctly…
Pics stolen from:
http://animalnewyork.com/2012/prince-rama-needs-your-help-to-make-psych-opera/
http://www.wrestlingnewsworld.com/chris-jericho-explains-coming-list/
http://www.dogbreedplus.com/dog_names/black_dog_names.htm
Lot of pictures on this one, aye?
My contacts in the hip hop community

warn me that ‘Kevin Gates; is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to uninspiring anf unmemorable rap names
I have been reliably informed that the days of exciting nom de plumes such as Old Dirty Bastard, Tyler the Creator, Slap-de-Wit the Immortal Instigator and Watch My Dicky Leg are over
‘Nom de plume’ in French literally translates as ‘the name of plumage’, as it is common for Gallic birds to have separate names for when they are fully-feathered, as Napoleon thought it obscene that ‘le disgustient pink merdes’ be attributed the same name when they are all naked and disgusting. For example, a plucked chicken body, the like of which you’re likely to buy in Le Tesco, is called ‘poulet’, while the proper, fully feathered beauty that you’re likely to decapitate to test urban legends down at the local farm is referred to as ‘ooh la la! Les pompe poulet de cheeky cheeky plume plume!’
My contacts in the hip hop community assure me that I shall really notice the sea change in 2017, where I’ll see new releases by ‘Geoff Turnbull’, ‘Paul Johnson’ and ‘Stuart’. Remember Stuart? Well he’s dedicated four tracks to you on his debut rap album, maybe now you’ll give him the time of day? He knows that he’ll never replace your real Dad, but your Mother loves Stuart very much, and Christmas is going to be a lot easier this year if you at least acknowledge his presence

Kevin Gates isn’t even his real name! It’s like me releasing my dope debut mixtape as Alexander Furnkwith
My rap name would be Rhyme Minister. Rhyme Minister Yeah! Rhyme Minister Ho Need Yeah!
It’ll be a Tony Blair reference, yes, because say what you will about his politics and the blood of half a million people on his hands, he once did that hilarious Catherine Tate bit for Comic Relief, so he’s obviously a top geezer

See? Not bothered
Perhaps the greatest strength of Mr Gates’s (is it, like, a Bill Gates reference? Because that’s just… just…) debut album proper is how much of a fully realised solo offering: almost completely free of the endless guest spots that can far too often clutter and saturate rap albums, and with every hook and chorus coming exclusively through Gates
And ‘Isiah’ is a procession of top quality hooks, hooks you could hang Mussolini off,

hooks you could pester Peter Pan with, a real ‘hard hook story’, it’s an album done very much ‘by the hook’, it’s like the Farrelly Brothers film ‘Hook On You’, or the Happy Mondays song Wrote for Hook…
…by hook or by crook….
…
…
…like when Kurt Angle comes out…
and all the crowd start chanting…
…
…
…’you hook’…
…
…
…OK, I’m done…

It’s just a shame that such a singular demonstration of Gates’s indisputable talents couldn’t have perhaps strayed a little from standard well crafted hip-hop, and no matter how fantastic its heights are, the lack of anything unique and unusual can make the record’s already testing length seem to especially drag
‘She got me like Michael/Jackson, Jordan, it don’t matter to me’. See, that distinction really would matter to me…

Bollocks… https://twitter.com/jamesknightbad
-5


A small but pleasant pronunciation +5
Also, I don’t know why, but I was very impressed by the correct apostrophe usege in the title of Thought I Heard (Bread Winners’ Anthem)
+1

As further tribute to Prince

I think points should be awarded for any artistic license taken with spelling (not grammer though, that shit’s biblical!!), so Kevin has to be applauded for Kno One. Is it meant to be ‘know one’, as in ‘I used to know one chap who refused to acknowledge the existence of Macedonia’, or ‘no-one’, as in ‘no-one has ever been to Macedonia, so why are we putting so much trust into so called ‘experts’?’? Either way, it’s equally wrong and so equally right
‘You the only one that my dick could get hard for/I’m confused, what the fuck you want my heart for?’ That line has to be worth a good
Ah, come on now….
Pics stolen from:
https://intl.target.com/p/kevin-gates-islah/-/A-50489578
https://www.usbornebooksathome.co.uk/catalogue/catalogue.aspx?cat=1&area=ED&subcat=EDD&id=7608
https://www.petful.com/grooming/why-do-cats-lick-each-other/
Maybe I’m part of the 0.1%



but there’s something strangely unfulfilling about Kay-Kay’s debut album ‘proper’
(by ‘debut album proper’ I of course mean that every release thus far by the disgustingly young Quebecer has been scandalously improper)
You might perhaps put this down to individual tastes, but if you look at the subjective, scientifically verified scores the album gets, then it just so happens that my own opinion happens to chime with verifiable fact on this occasion

Every song on ‘99.9%’ is at the very least extremely good, and the general sound is so velvet smooth that I actually spend most of my evenings gently rubbing it against my genitals to best experience its soft goodness
But, perhaps, therein lies the main problem: the album is just far too smooth, too silky sounding, too perfect

It’s a technical wonder, and chiselled down to a perfect sphere of gorgeous sound, but in its search for absolute integrity has left it sounding ever so featureless and non-distinct, when I feel the truly great albums risk more ridicule and benefit greatly from their jeopardy when it comes off
Adventures in sonics always get you
‘99.9%’ is a great album, but it was always going to be a great album, and never seems to have the bravery to strive for the next level
Ah, come on now….
Pics stolen from:
https://www.residentadvisor.net/reviews/18996
The Ga has managed to avoid me thus far. When she first arrived and was at her successful and cultural highpoint, I was in my mid 20s and so obviously far too cool to really like her, and she was just far too big a deal to like ironically, as my overwhelming snarky self-satisfaction would have been lost in the midst of all those pathetic genuine fans

Plus…
…
…
…she was a bit crap, wasn’t she? I mean, come on
She was an absolutely brilliant pop star, exhibiting shades of both Bowie’s artistic mindedness and Prince’s

delight in using both sexuality and fashion to subvert and offend, and the world needs pop stars who are willing to shock the order by stroking their genitals across the dead body of Kermit the Frog while projectile vomiting raw meet <I can’t find the incident to which you are referring, can you please clarify?- Ed>

Oh, and for prior services to fashion Googoo gets
But, yeah, songs like the dull electronica of Poker Face or the shameless pandering of Born This way were always several shades less interesting and experimental than the person from whence they came

So, maybe I’m too late, and the Gagoo I discover is producing significantly better music, but the terms of the agreement she made with God unfortunately means she is now about 12.5% as interesting as she used to be

That atrocious lyric is slightly redeemed by the chorus though, which is the inaugural recipient of my

award, which awards a singer finding new and exciting way to work their mouth around a lyric:

Images stolen from:
http://gagadaily.com/forums/topic/243627-has-gaga-ever-lip-synced/
http://www.animalplanet.com/pets/healthy-pets/what-does-it-mean-when-your-cat-licks-you/
http://www.wwe.com/superstars/razor-ramon/razor-ramon-photos#fid-26074025
http://gagadaily.com/forums/topic/201964-joanne-album-cover-meltdowns-go-in-here/?page=3
Erm… I mean… Yeah, go for it…

In the sometimes murky waters of the markedly less fabulous albums of 2016 in which we have been of late wading in, I have often complained that what it is that causes these records to split their foreheads open on the glass dome preventing them from gaining access to the land of the truly magnificent is that far too often they feel like they’re making compromises and blunting their edges in an attempt to ensure wider appeal, so it’s only right that I praise Lambchop (love that name +1) for making an album that spectacularly refuses to conform to expectations, and strives to please absolutely nobody, save the landlord at their recording studio, who is delighted that the recording of ‘Flotus’ (love that name +1) was much quieter than usual
That was a fucking mega sentence, wasn’t it?
Such lengthened grammatical structure is extremely apt, because I am a certified genius, as it references the fact that La-La have no issue with spending as long as eighteen minutes over a track, because they get paid to make music now, so fuck all of y’all, they’ll do what they freaking want
Radiohead would kill to have the balls to make a record as unyieldingly inaccessible as this…

Experiential dirge seemingly for the hell of it? At least
However, the hour long slap across accessibility’s face with a wet fish of artistic inflexibility is far easier to admire than actually like
Much like my daughter’s husband Albert: I mean, I really appreciate how much money he’s made of by designing a cold-water filtering system which eliminates 2.7% of all office shredder waste, but sweet Jesus is he boring!! Yes, Albert, you told me last time how you saved 34p by buying your chalkboard and chalk at two separate retailers, I really think you should look into investing in a new anecdote, especially because most people you know would have heard it in your wedding speech. I sometimes wish she’d get back with Darren. Yeah, I know, he used to tie up her in the cellar and burn her with his crack pipe, and had that weird sexual fetish about Nazi prison guards that I kept insisting to him was not appropriate after dinner conversation, no matter whose Bar Mitzvah it was, but at least he was fun! And he did a hilarious impression of a Polish person trying to order seafood, which definitely wasn’t racist because he said he had a friend at work who was black

I initially just planned to describe Darren’s enjoyment of crack pipe torture, but because of how the drug crack can conjure up unwarranted and unnecessary racial stereotypes , and the fact that I’m a Social Justice Snowflake Cluck, I decided to add the Max Mosley Third Reich fetish to muddy the assumptions a bit. Since you ask, Darren was actually white, not that it makes a difference. Funnily enough Albert is black, which makes his dullness all the more surprising, as you’d think he’d break out into a breakdance or a gangsta rap at some point
‘Flotus’ is a lovely album in theory, but in content…
…
…
well, there isn’t really any content. I listened closely last time it politely dribbled out of my speakers and this is the entire timeline of its 68 minutes:
03:31 Has it…? I think… Yeah, it’s started
15:56 The band accept that Mike isn’t going to turn up, and decide to see what the buttons on the keyboard do
26:02 The pianist clears his throat, the rest of the band stop playing as they await his announcement
27:23 No, he wasn’t requesting their attention, he just had a bit of a dry throat
34:21 In the background, you can hear the producer enquiring whether anyone wants any tea
34:23 H-ho! A bit of a beat!
34:25 Wait, no, it was just the lead singer nodding his head, you could hear his beard scratch against his chest
48:43 Do Lambchop have beards? I feel like they do, or at least should have. Well, if they didn’t have beards when this record started…
53:51 Yeah, I can definitely hear a lot of beards now
73:43 Nice!!
74:23 No, my mistake, I really liked the sound of that but it turns out it was just a boy outside throwing a plant pot at a squirrel
85:21 That squirrel isn’t moving…
92:45 Should I call RSPA or…?
104:34 Nah, it’s fine…
134:04 Oh! It’s picking up a bit now!!
165:32 No, wait…
184: 45 I think it’s finished

I joke! I joke! Hey, Lambchop, you’re alright! There are some great songs on ‘Flotus’, Writer and Niv especially, and kudos for seeing nothing wrong with ending the album with a eighteen minutes of barely distinct synth that occasionally implores us to ‘do the Hustle’
Hang on… are they taking the piss…?
If they are, it’s a remarkably successful troll
but… yeah, whatever…
-17
Images stolen from:
http://www.bethrooney.com/reportage/behind-the-curtain/circus-first-001
http://www.mojo4music.com/artist/radiohead/
http://apctc.com/business-of-coaching-vodcasts/abundant-coach-vodcast/

I’m not going to bore you with dog piss stories about how Prince was so important to me and he made an impression on my life and how this is all actually a tragedy for me…
No, it goes without saying that Prince should be recognised as at least as important a musical figure as dreary tossers like Bob Dylan or Paul McCartney. He was one of music’s all time great visionaries, yet he never neglected the importance of a great cod-piece. Prince’s run of albums from 1980’s Dirty Mind through to maybe 88’s Lovesexy is a burst of musical creativity and productiveness that has only been matched by the Beatles in the late 60s. Only the Beatles never wrote a lyric as good as “Look here, Marsha, I’m not saying this just 2 be nasty/I sincerely wanna f**k the taste out of your mouth”
So difficult not to refer to it as a ‘purple patch’…

So instead I’m going to attempt something near impossible: ranking all the Prince albums I own, which probably amounts to about 2.8% of his recorded. Prince has an irritating and presumably mischievously intentional habit of putting at least one stone cold classic on even his shittest albums, so just dive in people!!
Right, so I count 30..
Continue reading “Prince: The Ejaculate Collection- My Albums Ranked”