Laminators at the Ready!

Calendars - flavour of the month. Or rather twelve months, from January to December 2007. With perhaps six months either way if it's something of a posh calendar.

Anyway, Superbean's calendars have been the number one sellers in Aguadilla in each of the last 73 years (pre-dating native Puerto Rican calendars by a full five years) and are the subject of an annual exhibition in Old San Juan.

It's only fair that you get the latest version (with a recap of 2007). First up is last year's January, featuring Superbean (wrapped up warm for the winter weather) sat atop his favourite donkey Emilio (and also featuring Emilio's civil partner Bernardo and a Ricky Martin poster):



This year, Superbean decided to go all literary and historical. January 2008 features the beanial one's very own homage to the month that saw the discovery of Tutankhamen's tomb and first edition of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus.



Click for the full effect, this year Superbean's gone supersized. More soon!

You Are Not Legend

I've watched some more films! This involved an ill advised jaunt through the film I Am Legend, but don't worry fans of enjoyable cinema - I also watched some good things as well. So, yes, ladies, gentlemen and animals I give you ... the films I have watched.

I Am Legend
No, you are NOT legend, William. Actually, that's a bit harsh on The Fresh Smith, I doubt it's all his fault *quick shufty at imdb* no, you are NOT legend Francis Lawrence (director of the turgidity), Mark Protosevich (co-writer and defiler of narrative) and Akiva Goldsman (co-writer and similar enemy of intelligence). Be warned - there will be a spoiling element to this unappreciative exploration of cinematic flaccidity. I won't be concealing it in any way, because if you cannot control your eyes or dare to skim read my lovingly crafted and remarkably informative entries on this receptacle of cranial wonder then, to be frank, you deserve to have it ruined for you. Thinking about it, it's more a case of doing you a favour than spoiling anything in this instance. I'd be saving you precious time, time you can spend on more productive and enjoyable pursuits than watching I Am Legend. Such as jamming your big toe in a dirty grid, or starting a swingers' circle with Michelle McManus and Ali Bongo.

The stupid, ignorant film entirely failed to engage, interest or excite at any point at all. But no! What of the trumpeted, vaunted and heralded eerie emptiness of Manhattan? Empty, certainly. Empty of just about everything, including point, purpose and ability to convince. Predictably feeling-free and devoid of soul or reality, as is generally the case when unconvincing and surprisingly obvious CG is relied on so heavily that it is squashed fatter than Mrs. Meatloaf on a thursday night. Christ, if you're going to make such a big deal about it, I would think that you should perhaps spend a little more time, effort (and probably money) on it and try to make it look a little less fake. The animals-at-loose-in-urban-America bit was done more convincingly in Twelve Monkeys and, in technology and hype terms, that may as well have been daubed on a cave wall in France by Les Neanderthales.

Poor The Will Prince. He doesn't do half bad, really. He plays his strong suit throughout - you know the one, the gruff, manly, soft at heart, friendly rugged-with-rounded-edges family man (the one he does in most films - and why not, he's bloody good at it) - and, when the film lets him, he impresses. Occasionally, he puts in a little turn that is genuinely classy, emotional and engaging - and then the film's overbearing leaden lumpenness drags him back into its morass of mediocrity. He should damn well fucking sue the film for turning an attempt at a career-defining performance into Tom Hanks Lite. And then he should be severely reprimanded for putting his name to the godforsaken attempt at a script in the first place.

But no! The creatures! The creatures! Surely, won't somebody think of the creatures?!? Okay. My thought is that they are shit on a very unappealing stick. Again, criminally obviously CG rendered, thus separating them from any vestige of reality, menace, or meaningful presence or existence. They are also one of the key representations of how the film gets matters so universe-threateningly, horrendously, motherfuckingly wrong. WRONG. WRONG WRONG WRONG. Three times in the forty years or so they've made this film, and this is the first one to get it so arse-shreddingly, tit-grindingly WRONG. WRONG.

W.R.O.N.G. with a capital everything.

Not Right. Incorrect. Premise-dissipatingly so. The book and, to differing degrees, the previous two incarnations (Omega Man with the noted gun nut Charlton Heston, and The Last Man on Earth with the noted thing of wonder and global treasure Vincent Price) all have a particular point to make, a point that is the whole point and indeed basis of the story. Y'know, like, the thing that makes the book and films exist. THE FUCKING POINT. The one missed by I Am Legend to a degree not seen since [insert thing that was expected to easily hit the target] missed by [insert largest distance imaginable by which one thing could miss another] and ended up hitting [insert thing that is the furthest conceivable distance from the intended target].

Here comes the spoiler bit [/l'oreal].


Bruce Willis was a ghost! Sorry, wrong spoiler. The creatures, see. An increasing intelligence is hinted at, but a greater emphasis is placed upon a growing menace to The Fresh Robert of Bel Neville. Crude, inhuman, vicious (increasingly so) - they remain steadfastly the enemy of humanity, the humanity that endures in Robert Neville and his mighty crusade to save it from itself. Their intelligence manifests itself in cruelty and brutality, not in society or co-operation - it becomes Jazzy Neville Vs. the Most Brutish Night Seeker. But, as I may have hinted at earlier, THAT IS NOT THE FUCKING BIG BASTARD SHAGGING POINT.

It's not about saving the world, see. It's not about finding a cure. It's about realisation. Big Bad Bob Neville's realisation that he's got it wrong. He's no longer trying to save civilization, mankind - he's now the outsider. He's the monster, and the "others" are the society, the civilization. He's their nemesis, boogeyman, thing of terror. He's destroying, rather than saving. He is, indeed, legend, anachronistically so. Not because he invents the cure and saves the fluffy puppies and children, but because he is legend to the "others", the sort of legend that comes when your children are asleep and kills your family. So, when the lady comes with the portentous ending voiceover declaring Robert Neville to be legend for giving his life to defend the cure, I wanted to re-engineer the measles virus and destroy the world. And laugh in a dastardly way whilst I did, inflicting it first upon those responsible for the narrative mutilation. A thought-provoking, bleak yet moving, interesting and gripping theme is reinvented as Independence Day with an ickle dog. Actually, that's mean to Independence Day - that manages to cloak some nice satire in a publicly appealing gung-ho, GO USA set of threads. This is more the Littlest Hobo without the moral, excitement, or natty theme tune. It is patronising to children and pretends to appeal to grown-ups. Vincent Price and a bunch of Italian film-making dudes got a lot closer to the mark, and even the noted rifle-fondler extraordinaire Charlton Heston managed a lot better. I won't even mention the fantastically gaping plot holes.

SO FUCKING WRONG IT RUINED MY BRAIN.

Thus ends the spoiling bits.


There's Nothing Out There
Infinitely more enjoyable than I Am Legend, as is having shingles of the eyes. Fun, knowing, witty and articulate homage to horror film cliches. With tits. Lots of them. Scream before Wes Craven had the idea of ripping it off and making Scream. Piss off Wes Craven. Amusingly post-modern without taking itself seriously (which seems to be the odd hallmark of self-professed post-modern cultural items), a fun film, and cruelly overlooked when it comes to the appreciation of eighties horror - perhaps because it was released in 1990, but you get the idea. Night of the Creeps gets all the plaudits in the convention-toying stakes and this gets ignored. Night of the Creeps certainly deserves the plaudits, but it really should share them with There's Nothing Out There. Stupid, selfish films.


Monster Club
One of those portmanteau films, which means you can watch it and also keep all your papers and pens and things in it. I first saw this when I was ten. I wasn't ready for such things and it terrified me senseless (well, the last story in it did). I haven't watched it since and only now do I feel ready to face the fear that made me sleep entirely under the covers with pyjamas and a dressing gown on with the window closed in summer. Why I thought that would help, I cannot remember. It has Vincent Price! Donald Pleasance! John Carradine! Geoffrey Bayldon! Lesley Dunlop! B.A. Robertson! It's directed by Roy Ward Baker - a stamp of a certain quality to a certain type of person. Well, it turns out that the last story still unsettles me a little. Not like it did all that time ago, of course. That would be faintly ridiculous. But a little. Poor woman out of May to December. And, as much as the first story is a solid little traditional vignette, I think I may have ruined it for myself by getting it into my head that the whistling Shadmock looks quite a lot like Roger Lloyd-Pack. Ah well. Quality (of a certain, particular kind) throughout, with added Vincent Price-ness.


Creepshow 2
Another collection of vignettes, one that I prefer to the first in the series. Not much to choose between them really, but they both edge out Tales From the Crypt without a hint of a doubt. Fun with the obligatory Stephen King cameo (he plays a stupid trucker. No, that isn't a typo). Creaky, slow-moving Red Wooden Indian Death! Killer oil slick that looks suspiciously like a tarpaulin with twigs on! The hitchhiker that will not die! Some tits! Directed by George A. Romero! It's alright, I guess!


Deathproof
Shitproof. Except it isn't, and a load of shit seeped in, especially in the excruciatingly dire second half. Blow it out of your arse, Tarantino, and don't return until you've finish, wiped your bum and realised what a terrible error of film making you have made.


Planet Terror
WHOA THERE! Much, much, much, much better than its much more lauded neighbour in the Grindhouse. Both films are loving in their attention to the detail of their sources, the difference is that Lord Bobert of Bobdrigues turns his into a fun, camp, gory barrel of excited laughmonkeys and Quentin makes a big puddle of self-indulgent cinematic wank (Kurt Russell is excused, he's quite marvelous for most of it , especially in the first half).

So there you have it. It would have been a lengthier list (watched half of Atonement, for example - promising so far), but I've been distracted by the arrival of a collection of "This is Tom Jones" shows from the end of the sixties. Well, they were actually from Amazon (they didn't arrive in a time machine), but you get my drift. As the actress said to the snowman. Or perhaps it was the other way round. Also I can't shake the nagging feeling that I've forgotten some. If I have, then it is probably with good reason.

Hasta la next time cinema cementheads.

It's been a long time, been a long lonely lonely lonely time

It hasn't really, it's been about ten minutes. I was just listening to Rock'n'Roll by Led Zeppelin whilst preparing the shuffle and I couldn't resist. I blame Mr. Bangtango the sPazAmper. He sent me a message with that as a title and it started the short and not really all that convoluted series of events that led to me using it as a post title. VALHALLA I AM COMING. It's Immigrant Song, now. Obv.

The sound of Christmas Day in the shufflehouse, '06 style dudes.



In your massively wrinkled faces, you cockney spacksicians. I thought it was only fair. Y'know, balance and all that.

I should have better things to do. I don't. Deal with it, cementheads.


1. Jethro Tull - Locomotive Breath
I sort of know what he's getting at, but it still doesn't stop the mental image of the subject of the song going "choo choo!" everytime they open their mouth. Doesn't detract from the grandness of the song, mind.

2. Big Black - Precious Thing
A song all about Steve Albinoid's love for all things Kinder Egg. His favourites were the Crazy Crocos. He cried for a week they when discontinued them before he completed his set, and now he spends endless hours diligently scouring ebay in the forlorn and desperate hope that the schoolteacher croco and the BMX croco will turn up. This is far more interesting than the actual song.

3. Afghan Whigs - Come See About Me
Better than the original, and anyone who says otherwise is deaf. They should have been roundly worshipped as titanic musical gods. Instead, you mostly ignored them and they went away. Now that stupid bint off of television's the X-filesFactor is number 1. You get what you deserve, you swines.

4. Amon Düül II - Cerberus
Twingly twangly pseudo-eastern guff about a mutant dog. I'm reasonably sure I can hear a bongo or nine in the first half. Picks up dramatically towards the end (after the bongo pisses off. Coincidence? I think NOT). First half is shit, second half is more like the usual standard. Still guff about a freakdog, though.

5. David Bowie - Rock'n'Roll Suicide
I loved this song when I was about 15. I thought it was dead clever and stuff. I later recognised it as a big pile of self-indulgent pseudo-arty pile of massive wankery. Bowie, however, was distinctly older than 15 when he wrote and recorded it. The cock end. Straight out of the draw marked "future Radiohead lyrics / third rate A-Level poetry". Also, it took him a remarkably short amount of time to start sounding like a cruel and ridiculous parody of himself. And his wife looks like a man. And he smells. Of poo. Ner.

6. Inspiral Carpets - Paper Moon
Well that's just ridiculous. The sun would set it on fire every eclipse time. More enjoyable than the last song. As is having shingles.

7. The Wombles - Remember You're a Womble
It'd be hard to forget, what with all the fur, and the giant snout, the bad clothes and the irresistible urge to collect shit you find on the floor. Also better than Bowie.

8. t'Sweet - Wig Wam Bam
Wild Native American sex in a tent. Sung by rough Scottish blokes mostly dressed as very odd women. It's what the baby Jesus invented music for. Eighteen times better than Bowie.

9. Aguaturbia - Hermoso Domingo
Cheerily winsome early seventies sunny pop recorded in a tin of beans. By foreign mentals. No idea who or what Hermoso Domingo is, though.

10. GLC - GLC Will Bang in Your Face
Filth.

11. James Brown - Say it Loud (I'm Black and I'm Proud)
I'M BLACK AND I'M PROUD. Is that loud enough? Only I'm not black, see. Hope that won't prove to be a problem Jim, you massive gun-toting, wife-punching squanderer of talent. With stupid hair.

12. Thrones - A Quick One
Yes, it is a cover, and a bastard fucking fine one too. Plus I have my bastard fucking fine Thrones t-shirt on, so huzzahs all round.

13. The Smiths - I Know It's Over
I wish I could say the same. Still five bloody minutes of it left. Oddly, I like this on Rank and always have, whereas I have always found it to be painfully dreary on The Queen is Dead (the version that is currently besieging my ears like a horde of apathetic and feeble bee-stings). I am contemplating going voluntarily deaf.

14. Mansun - Wide Open Space
One of three reasons to love Mansun. Feel free to choose your own choices for the other two. Unfortunately, they released about thirty other reasons to hate them.

15. Chas'n'Dave - The Sideboard Song
Everyone who has recorded a song since this should be ashamed of themselves. David Bowie dreams of being this good. It is a forlorn and hopeless dream, though. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care if he comes round here. I got my beer in the sideboard here, let Mother sort him out if he comes round here. Wise words, words we would all do well to heed.

16. The Cramps - Swing the Big-Eyed Rabbit
No. Bloody filthmongers.

17. Neil Diamond - Oh Mary
If I was around about sixty, had been out of fashion for a while and Rick Rubin rang me up and asked if he could record an album for me, I'd check the levels of my life insurance. And, if Neil and Johnny are anything to go by, I'd release some cracking songs whilst I waited for death's icy finger. I've just realised that I've made it sound like Neil Diamond is dead. He isn't. Yet.

18. South Park Children's Choir - Dead, Dead, Dead
All Christmas songs should be this happy and cheery. And so on Christmas morning let good tidings fill your head, what a festive season, someday you'll be dead.

19. The Independents - C is for Cookie
It's only a minute and a half long, it's a cover of a Sesame Street song and, if you take away the actual Cookie Monster sample at the start it only uses nine different words, but I love it. A tiny, perfectly formed thing of beauty.

20. Jethro Tull - Christmas Song
Sound contrived? What with it being Christmas and the sPazTune beginning and ending with two immensely wonderful Jethro Tull songs? Well, it is. Sort of. I would have finished this about two hours ago, but I got distracted by a vintage Times crossword from 1936. On Christmas Eve. At this time of the morning. I know! You wish you had my life, bitch.

Happy Babyjesusmas.

Christmastime, Mistletoe and Gin

Only kidding. I'm not that keen on gin. It'll be whisky, rum and/or red wine. And Cliff Richard can fuck right off, the musical sadist. Anyway, it's Christmas! And to celebrate the fact that I have an hour to kill before I can put the roast potatoes and parsnips on, I thought I'd slip in a quick shuffle. This was the shuffletastic musical sounds of the eve of Christmas eve last year. Superbean makes an appearance (one that makes sense now that he's been introduced most thoroughly).

In your face, you bindipping musitards.

You don't deserve one anymore than you deserve any presents, but here's a festive sPazTune. Well, it'll be festive if you eat a mince pie whilst frittering away valuable time reading it, or something. I'm not going to be otherwise theming it in any way. What do you think it is, bloody Christmas?

1. Jimmy Eat World - Sweetness
God alone knows why I own this. Well, God and me, but I'm not telling. So go ask God, see what he has to say for himself, the big bearded tit.

2. Pink Floyd - Vera
Anyone got any Veras? Pink Floyd have? Laahhhvvveeellly.

3. King Khan & His Shrines - Take a Trip
Brass-tastic. Garagelounge-derful. Also reasonably average. Better than the Dirtbombs songs it was split with, though.

4. Monster Magnet - Tractor
From the first EP, when Dave Wyndorf couldn't sing particularly well. Possibly about his favourite Massey Ferguson. Which I think is a type of tractor, although it might well be a typewriter.

5. Ian Dury & the Blockheads - Heavy Living
It shouldn't have taken Ian so long to realise how much he needed Chas and the rest. But particularly Chas. Also, he should have banned his son from singing and given him a better name, but that's nothing to do with this particular song.

6. We the People - Mirror of Your Mind
That doesn't make any sense, you run of the mill garage mongs.

7. Wu Tang Clan - Uzi (Pinky Ring)
Had this very song before, I think. I don't care. It's fucking Scary Fucking Rap Fucking Dude-tastically wonfuckingunderful. Pinky ring sounds rude.

8. The Who - Shakin' All Over / Spoonful / Twist & Shout (Live at the IOW)
A fun medley for when they had temporarily run out of their own songs and fancied titting about for a bit. Fun, yes. Tremendous, no.

9. Vibracathedral Orchestra - Jubilee
Much better than whatever pap you're listening to (with certain exemptions. You know who you are).

10. Beat Happening - That Girl
Which girl? That girl? Where on the stair? Right there! Possibly wearing clogs, we won't know for sure until we get the tests back.

11. T'Sweet - Ballroom Blitz
Ready Steve? Andy? Mick? No? Alright, I'll hang on a tick. How about now? Alright then! Etc, etc. t'bloody t'brilliant.

12. Creeping Nobodies - Cold Hands
Ta, Joe.

13. Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet - Bang Bang
One of my favourite songs, in a wonderfully wildy and twangy mariachi superstyle. Whatever that means. HEY!

14. Edgar Broughton Band - Officer Dan
Sounds a bit like the Steptoe and Son theme tune. Then it changes in the middle, before changing back.

15. The Prisoners - For Now and Forever
It's The Prisoners. What more convincing do you bloody well need, cementhead?

16. Ultravox - Passing Strangers
Sounds painful. Not the song, the concept of trying to pass a stranger.

17. Vic Godard & the Subway Sect - Stool Pigeon
The only way this could be any better is if it were a Kid Creole cover version.

18. EPMD - DJ K La Boss
The DJ was not the highlight of EPMD. This song shows why.

19. Chris Farlowe - Looking For You
I'm over here!

20. Billy Ocean - Red Light Spells Danger
The eternal debt owed by B&S to The Ocean. YES. "Dog on Wheels" is almost identical to "Caribbean Queen". Only joking. HOWEVER. And yes, the capitals are entirely justified. As even a cementhead like you realises, the crown jewel of the Billy Ocean back catalogue is "Red Light Spells Danger" (Rupert the Bear suit wearing on TOTP whilst singing "Love Really Hurts Without You" notwithstanding). How miffed must Billy have been to have realised that B&S decided to cover it, only to call it "Sleep the Clock Around", change all the lyrics and, just to rub salt into the gaping musical wound, not credit him (and also take out all the good bits)!

Not very much, is the answer. I doubt he has noticed - he's Billy Ocean, for fuck's sakes, he's probably too busy eating crumpets with Lionel "stop adopting crackass hoes" Richie to give a flying fig, fuck or toss. Either way, Billy Ocean >>>> B&S. And yes, I have used large parts of this part of the post before. It isn't plagiarism if it's your own stuff, just tedious repetitiveness (depending on your point of view). One of the finest songs in all of the whole wide world and if you don't think so, well, you should have your license to own ears revoked. Immediately.

I often ask myself "why do I bother". I often follow this up with the answer "I have quite literally no idea". Enjoy your musitard Christmasses, cementheads.

Mecha-Jesus and the Beansy Music

Whilst it has long been acknowledged by the inhabitants of this planet that are in possession of both a brain and functioning ears that Roxy Music have been responsible for some of the finest collections of cleverly arranged noises ever to be labelled music, it is less generally realised that Superbean wrote all the b-sides for the first six years.


Mecha-Jesus. I've seen him, Superbean's seen him, and we're both going to hell.


El baa.

Marqués del Haba Estupenda and Don Pedro del Ultrahaba

Superbean has had enough. Beans shouldn't be scared of their government, the governments should be scared of their beans.


The Marqués del Haba Estupenda and Don Pedro del Ultrahaba make plans to retake the New World.



El Haba Estupenda says in your FACE, Dan Brown.


Ricky Martin does his world famous "I'm the Hulk" dance in honour of Al Pacino's fruitcat safari (long story). El Haba de Estupenda and Ultra Haba join in.


Beanissey, Lenin and Ultrabean Marr celebrate a birthday (another long story).


Fully rested following his communist birthday exploits (see the aforementioned long story), Superbean makes a requested return. In the words of Alan Partridge, ¡Parque Jurásico!

During Resident Beanvil: Apocalypse, Superbean finally snaps due to the frankly dismal Sienna Guillory's inability to stand up straight (throughout the WHOLE BASTARD FILM), and bites her legs off.


Juepatastic.

Ultrabean the Loserbean and The Miami Bint Machine

Superbean has a close and good friend - Ultrabean. A simple introduction, he returns anon.


Superbean expresses his disapproval of Gloria Estefan. The troops agree.


Superbean sings whilst washing some apples. Ultrabean looks on adoringly.


Superbean re-recorded Ricky Martin's seminal crossover hit Maria, lovingly dedicating it to his favourite Sunset Beach character, the back from the dead and not really drowned Maria Evans-Torres - beloved of Ben and bane of Meg Cummings life.



Bless.

The Bean Rider

As with so many others, an abortive television career followed an abortive movie career (some do it the other way round, so have a try at an abortive music career. It doesn't really matter so long as the key part - "abortive" - is adhered to).

Here's some of the early promotional material for his mooted role as Michael Knights robotic bean assistant in Knightrider.



It didn't really work and it was decided that the car alone was enough. Similarly unsuccesful was Superbean's role as the fifth A-Team member. He was to be the squad's "Bean Man", the go to guy for all those situations of a Beanial nature, situations that Superbean would deal with using the skills he learnt in deepest, darkest 'Nam.



The producers soon realised this was a stupid idea, not least because Superbean fitted into Hannibal's pocket, as illustrated.

By now desperate, Superbean teamed up with his good friend Simon MacCorkindale (star of very little indeed, although he was a doctor on Casualty. Or it might have been Holby City. Like it makes a difference) to pitch their idea for a series called "Beanimal", where a crime-fighting Bean (played by Superbean) had the power to turn into various animals (one of them being a Simon MacCorkindale).



Sadly, this proved as unsuccessful as all the others. The producers liked the idea of the show, just not the bean element. The title was changed to "Manimal" and the rest is history. Superbean was initially downgraded to the role initial planned for MacCorkindale, but even these episodes were eventually canned (mainly due to the difficulty the writers had in dreaming up situations where Simon turning into a small, inanimate bean with eyes would be in any way helpful). The episode where he turned into a large stoat was also, sadly, binned.

Superbeans Don't Lie

Although Ricky (and all things Ricky) are Superbeans Latin music of choice, he does occasionally dabble with other artists of a similar flavour. As this snap of his momentous meeting with Shakira shows.



It wasn't all just Ricky Martin mania, however. There was also Superbean's burgeoning film career to consider. He got his initial break understudying many of Michael Caine's film roles (which is noteworthy not least because it was nearly two decades before he grew up in 80s Puerto Rico. And also because he was a bean).





Truly, his versatility knew no bounds. Well, apart from those derived from being an inanimate bean with eyes.

Juepa!

Naturally, Superbean is a HUGE Ricky Martin fan (being born and raised in Puerto Rico in the 80s it was hard for a young Superbean to avoid falling deeply in love with the enormously seductive teen latin tones of Menudo. We've all done it at some point in our lives).

Here's one of his most treasured memories (by "his" I mean Superbean, although I'm pretty sure it ranks highly for Ricky, too). The moment he met his idol.



I've not checked precisely, but I think my gayness increased by 6% whilst finding a suitable picture of Ricky Martin. I blame the general tone of Ricky's publicity photos. Oh, I've also developed a yearning to wear speedos

The Merry Friends of Manuel

Before we get stuck into the Annals of Superbean (hurr, annals), it's worth spending a little time filling in the MSPaint doodling blanks. Never in the history of human communication has the word "worth" been more severely misued.

This is Manuel. He is a curious skull/mushroom hybrid and he lives in Rod Hull's graveyard. He's so ace that I'm going to get a tattoo of him.


Manuel has friends, of course. This is Esteban the permanently shocked ghost tadpole with a skull head, sponsored by Nike. He lives in Manuel's head. I'm also getting an Esteban tattoo.


This is a skull on a stick. It was briefly Manuel's friend until it drove him insane with its incessant prattling about being a former Scooby Doo villain and the voices in his head (namely Esteban) told him to put it in the bin, which he duly did. It doesn't have a name, it's a skull on a stick. And I'm not getting a tattoo of it for the same reason.


This is Horace the Hydroalien. Manuel can't stand him, and he lives in a Vietnamese prison. In space.


TBC continued. LOL out loud.

The Injustice League of Spazmerica

I was very bored one day. So bored, in fact, that I indulged my passion for MSPaint art. I say passion, I'd not really ever done it before. But passion sounded good. Shove that in your crackpipe and smoke it, cementcranium.

Anyway, the fruits of that particular endeavour were mixed, to say the least. Some went on to greater fame and fortune than others, as we will doubtless see in future tedious episodes of this electronic exercise in excrement. First out of the metaphorical pen was George, the five limbed Octopus, which makes him a Pentapus. So George the Pentapus, then. He looks mildly perturbed. As would you, were deficient in the limb department to the tune of three.



Next came George, an alien from the planet Retardo. Names are not my forte, okay? Here he is looking resplendent in his orange Adidas spacesuit.



Thirdly we have Harry. Harry is also an alien, a Mekon to be exact, and he has a penchant for bigly collared shirts, thick rimmed glasses, and narrating programmes about hilarious home video blunders.



Sadly, these beauteous creations remained one offs. Any further adventures and exploits they have undoubtedly had remain mournfully unrecorded. The same goes for most of the following. Most, but not all. Here we have the most feeble and pointless assemblage of "super"heroes this side of Superman and his retarded attempt at an everyday disguise and perverted obsession with showing the world his undercrackers. The Injustice League of Spazmerica.

WonderWormMan:


Dastardly Dyson:


Agoraphobic SnailMan:


TortoiseBoy:


The Neon Chameleon:


Super Bean:



Now personally, I found Agoraphobic SnailMan and The Neon Chameleon to be of particular note. A terrified and immobile Gastropod and a reptile whose only talent would be to seamlessly blend in with an 80s music video. However, the wider public singled out another for adulation, adoration, and accolade. That lucky legume was none other than El Haba Estupenda himself - Super Bean. Just you wait and see.

I'm invisible!

A picture of an invisible cat, I think. I can't see it myself.

Hurrrrrrrrrrr.

Don't shatter his illusions, poor thing. Time will do that soon enough. Or maybe it won't, on account of it being a cat and all. Highly unlikely that it has a firm understanding of the concept of relative visibility, when you think about it. Which I'm not doing, because it would be a waste of my brain resources.

Whereas this bizarre exercise in sPazTuning isn't a waste of my brain resources? It's all relative, I suppose. Like my Gran.

1. LL Cool J - Dangerous
I've seen Deep Blue Sea. You're about as dangerous as a zombie gerbil, James. Although he wasn't always musically useless, as this shows. Really don't think it needs to be six bloody minutes long, mind.

2. Tom Jones - I'm Coming Home
Best get the kettle on for the leathery old so and so then.

3. DJ Format - I'm Good (feat. Abdominal)
Sounds like all the other DJ Format songs featuring Abdominal. That is, pleasant, professional and thoroughly unexciting. If I owned a bar and wanted to attract wankers, I'd play this at a reasonable volume. I'd also hike the prices of the drinks and hire ignorant and vacant bar staff that were 86% haircut. Not to mention stuffing the available space with a completely annoying arrangement of mismatched sofas that look comfy but in reality try to eat you from the arse upwards, so that when you actually sit in them properly, you can't actually talk to anyone because you've reclined to such a degree that you are practically prone. Then I'd shoot myself in the eyes with a bleach gun. And then a real one (provided I could still find it without my eyes).

4. Elvis Presley - Teddy Bear
Pervert.

5. Northside - My Rising Star
Bunch of wankers.

6. Nirvana - Rape Me
No, because that would be illegal and necrophilia. Which is also illegal. So it would be doubly illegal, so doubly no. Pervert.

7. Bryan Ferry - Hold On (I'm Coming)
Pervert.

8. Tony Christie - I Did What I Did for Maria
If it really is the last day that you'll ever see, Tony, why are you wasting it writing and recording a song about the whole thing? Serves you right, you massive vigilante.

9. Gas Huffer - Mole
The best song about a mole ever. And also the best song ever recorded by Gas Huffer, edging out Firebug by the width of a gnat's chuff.

10. The Temptations - You're My Everything
What, even your toilet paper? Your discarded old underwear? Your empty bean tins for recycling? Are you sure you mean everything?

11. Ray Charles - Hallelujah I Love Her So
Yeah, but you can't see her, can you.

12. The Specials - Monkey Man
Racists.

13. Os Brasas - Pancho Lopez
It's Davey Crockett. In Brazilian. With Pancho Lopez in place of Davey Crockett. Panchooo, Pancho Lopez, el kingio dello wildo frontierio.

14. The Who - Tommy Can You Hear Me?
No, he can't. He's deaf. You should know, you bloody well invented him.

15. Monster Magnet - The Game
Approximately four thousand times more appealing than a song called Monster Magnet by The Game would be.

16. Graham Bonnett - Night Games
Should be about nocturnal chess, is actually about clandestine perverts.

17. PP Arnold - The First Cut is the Deepest
Hurr, she's named after a willy. Also, what a load of nonsense. What if you're attacked by a mad axe wielding psycho with a rubbish aim? The first go might only nick your arm, then they might follow it up by cleaving your head in two, which is quite definitely the deeper of the two cuts. Tsk. Hurr, pee pee. She's friends with Mick Talbot, which makes her a stupid cow.

18. The Rockin' Ramrods - She Lied
The bitch. If it happens to her I hope she'll cry, too. How could she? Mind you, they don't specify quite what she lied about. She might just have claimed there was still milk in the fridge when there wasn't. Hardly worth writing a song about. The wankers.

19. Afghan Whigs - Here Comes Jesus
Christ, better set another place at the table then. Bloody freeloader. It’s all go tonight.

20. Helios Creed - Bend Over
No. Pervert.

There.

Bye.

Don't Look Now!

Either one cat covering another cat's eyes, or some kind of perverted feline recreation of something to do with Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland. Or perhaps Tony Christie and Donald Pleasance. Ew. I feel a bit sick.

Sage advice. But, if you insist on ignoring it, then be prepared for a load of old waffle and numerous musical oddities. Because that's what I do. And, even if I do say so myself, I do it bloody sodding well. So don't say that you haven't been warned (unless of course you find yourself in a situation where you might have expected to have been warned, but hadn't. You can say it then, if you like, although I doubt whining would help).

1. The Hush Puppies - Hey, Stop Messin' Around!
Ahhh, singing shoes.

2. Nation of Ulysses - NOU Future Vision Hypothesi
Nation of Ulysses, Ulyssee-ee-ees, soaring through all the galaxies. In search of Earth, flying into the night. Nation of Ulysses, Ulyssee-ee-ees, fighting evil and tyranny, with all their heart, and with all of their might. Nation of Ulyssee-eee-eee-eee-eess, no one else can do the things they do.

3. The Dukes of the Stratosphear - Your Gold Dress
Out of all of them, I think this is the one that sounds most like an [I]actual[/I] late 60s floyd-influenced band rather than an affectionate and accurate tribute. Well, apart from the jingly jangly bit, that bit is just a little too well produced, a touch too shiny. They fall into the category of songs that I enjoy and like, but that mean absolutely sod all to me. If that makes any sense.

4. Sam & Dave - Soul Man
A moving ballad about having to smear your face in shoeshine in order to get into an American college. Christ I hate that film. Couldn't ruin the song for me though - being horrendously overplayed at the expense of other just as deserving Sam & Dave songs did that.

5. Melvins - Influence of Atmosphere
Makes a 1.52s song sound like a grindtastic epic. That's how good Melvins are.

6. Ghostface Killah - The Grain (feat. RZA)
I like Ghostface, but he's unfortunately way down the list on the Wu solo efforts, far behind the first efforts from U-God, GZA, Raekwon, ODB and Meth. Still, no great shame, being behind five of my favourite albums. Plus, he's ahead of Redman, which I am sure is a source of endless comfort to him.

7. The Cramps - Can't Find My Mind
It's in your head. Or maybe not, seeing as it's Lux.

8. The Deadly Snakes - A Bird in the Hand (is worthless)
He probably thinks he sounds like Stephin Merritt. He actually really sounds like Neil Diamond. This is not a bad thing.

9. Mark Lanegan - One Way Street
I'm reasonably sure that I've had this one on a bout of sPazTuning before. Still, I'm not complaining - if it's good enough for my signature, it should be good enough to make you all rush out and buy everything Mark Lanegan has ever made, ever. So go on, do it. GO ON! QUICKLY!

10. Girl Trouble - Kissin' Cousins
Girl Trouble + Elvis Movie Song = Fan-fucking-tastic.

11. Sun Ra & The Blues Project - Batman Theme
It's the Batman theme, done by Sun Ra. What more could you bastard well want from life?

12. System of a Down - Chic'n'Stu
It's about a pizza pie or something. And it's cocking wonderful. I still want the beard. And I'm still not allowed, apparently (although the revelation that I want the original beard, and not the more recent version that looks like Rameses II on Civilization has mellowed things somewhat. Although I'm still quite aware of not being Armenian, Andyroo).

13. Belle & Sebastian - Wrapped Up in Books
You know that a band has entered the "pointless" category when they start simultaneously ripping off Cliff Bloody Richard and themselves. Shocking. And not in a good way. My poor ears. It's not without agreeable parts, but they just leave you thinking "well, I could get that from this song, or that song, songs that do the exact same thing - only better, and without Out in the Bastarding Country as the chorus". Maybe not thinking precisely that, but something similar.

14. Barbara Acklin - To Sir With Love
As fine a slice of Brunswick soul as this undoubtedly is (and as much as it pisses all over the original), and as beatiful as the song may be, you have to hope that she eventually got the police involved. It's just not right, teachers doing that sort of thing.

15. Terrorvision - Alice, What's The Matter?
Well? Alice? Come on, spill the beans. They've been asking you for years now. Miserable cow. Hardly deserving of such a bloody good song, if you ask me.

16. Shiratori Maika - Drive
One that definitely falls into the "slavishly faithful" category of cover versions. Well, as slavishly faithful as a Japanese woman can get to a bald nutter with a blue stripe round his head. Very pretty (the song, not the woman or bald nutter. Although I'm sure they are both very comely in their own individual ways).

17. Tony Christie - Las Vegas
"Hey Las Vegas, can nothing save us from you" poor man, clearly has a gambling problem. "Night after night, watching the wheel go round" he's in deep, the urge to throw good money after bad dragging the poor fellow and his addiction deeper and deeper in. "Hey Las Vegas, the Devil gave us to you" see? He feels utterly helpless and at the mercy of his demons. "One of these days, I'm gonna burn you down" ARSON IS NEVER THE ANSWER TONY. One of his five great songs, the rest are dismal shite.

18. Nina Simone - See Line Woman
Still sounds like a man.

19. Rammstein - Rein Raus
Gets me everytime. The intro sounds like Wild Thing by Tone Loc. Dead ringer for it, it is. Or maybe Wild Thing crossed with Funky Cold Medina (which is a bit like crossing the one song with itself, but still). Anyway, it's not like I'm disappointed. How could you be disappointed by Rammstein? Well, perhaps you could if you could understand the lyrics, I dunno, mainly because I can't. But I doubt it. Fantastically blustery overblown and monstrously entertaining theatrical nonsense. Wonderful.

20. Mudhoney - You Stupid Asshole
Both an unutterably fine song, and a fitting comment on the end of the endeavour - both you for reading it (whoever you are) and me for bothering. Juepa!

T'ra.

Something about Superman

I think they wanted to kill him or something. I hope so, Superman is really shit. I mean, what kind of a cocking disguise is that meant to be? A vaguely different hairstyle and some glasses? Fooling no one, you lycra-clad r-tard.

Seeing as my reminiscing over the plight of Barry and Keith Wiper somewhat ruined the last one, I'm back once again (yes, like the renegade master. So better hide those D4s, else I'll only be damaging them) with another to amaze, bore, mystify and/or generally leave utterly cold. You just don't know how lucky you are. Because you’re a bit thick, innit.

1. Dead Kennedys - California Über Alles
I spent most of the song searching for the umlauted u, sorry. The first, but not the best, attempt they made at the song. My favourite is "We've Got a Bigger Problem Now" from the In God We Trust Inc. ep (with the grand quietly jazzy bits inbetween the noisy bits), although the recent live version about Arnie that Jello did with the Melvins is pretty darn fine, too.

2. Iron Maiden - Quest For Fire
Endearingly rubbish. Bruce's high notes make me feel vaguely embarrassed on his behalf. It's about man searching for fire in a land inhabited by enormous dinosaurs. Bruce, Steve, Ed, the other one - THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN. They didn't read about it in the Caveman Metro and then set off wandering the countryside looking for it, dodging Stegosaurs and the like. Still miles better than anything off Seventh Son, mind.

3. The Wipers - Over the Edge
Despite all their personal troubles, I love The Wipers. And this is a good example of why you should, too. Your favourite band depended on them. Unless your favourite band is The Proclaimers. Or Journey South.

4. The Damned - Looking at You
A cover that manages to be about forty three and a half times better than the original (MC5). Was a bit tedious live, though, mainly as they used it as an excuse for Dave Vanian to have a rest. He'd toddle off for the middle bit whilst Rat and Captain Sensible showed off for a bit. You'd see him wandering around behind the stage, doing a crossword and drinking ribena. A luxury not afforded to us, the audience, unfortunately. We all had to take our chances at the bar, which was obviously rammed by that point because everyone new that was the time to go to the bar. They may as well have had an official intermission or something, because no one stayed to watch Rat wanking over his bloody drums. What a dreadful mental image, I've just vomited on myself.

5. The Cougars - Teku Teku Tengoku
The best song ever in Japanese. Jona'll confirm this, I'm sure I pestered him to download it off me at some point. Haven't a clue what it's about, but it's bloody marvelous. Slinkingly sixties wonderfulness. In Japanese. What more do you want?

6. Terrorvision - Discotheque Wreck
I tried to go and see them in concert once. They wouldn't let me. Apparently, you needed a license or something. A Terrorvision license. I have to tell that "joke" whenever I mention Terrorvision. It's a tradition, or an old charter, or something. Anyway, you should all be ashamed of yourselves. If you'd loved Terrorvision the way they should be loved, then maybe they wouldn't have gone away and we'd have even more dead smart songs like this one. You bastards.

7. Bruce Springsteen - State Trooper
From Will Oldham's favourite Bruce album. Well, the one he steals from the most, at any rate. And why not, it's a bloody good album stuffed full of bloody good songs. So there. He should have done more like this, instead of Tunnel of Love. Damn him.

8. Flipper - Sex Bomb
I'm sure this has cropped up before, but I'm certainly not complaining. It's one of the songs that everyone in the world should have. Nearly eight minutes of splendour, feels like less than two. One listen is never enough. NEVER. Hypnotic bass, incongruous sax, screamy shouty vocals (which you just know Kurt liked a little bit too much). Not much by way of lyrics, beyond "sex bomb baby, yeah" and all the shouty screams, but it doesn't matter. Bloody fucking wonderful. I cannot recommend this song enough, I really can't.

9. Six Finger Satellite - Funny Like a Clown
Which is to say, not in the least bit funny at all. In fact, more scary than funny. A bit like the song. SFS really should have been widely adored, not roundly ignored. There is a bowloid with a SFS secret, but that secret shall remain just that (and no, the secret isn't that they're the only other person to know who SFS are, but that is also true, I suspect).

10. Busta Rhymes (feat. P. Diddy, Pharrell and about thirty five other people, including Mr. T. in the video) - Pass the Courvoisier Part II
My ass getting big now. Say what, Busta? Your ass is doing what now? Busta does his usual trick of occupying less than 33% of his own song. The lazy tosser. Still, you can't beat a bit of Busta. Not even with a really big stick. All charty rap songs should be this good.

11. Tony Christie - Avenues and Alleyways
Theme tune to The Protectors and my favourite song when I was about 4. And if that isn't recommendation enough, then I don't bloody well know what is. Sheffield's very own Tom Jones. Sheffield didn't need one, probably didn't want one, but that didn't stop Tony. That's kind of guy he is. My mum went to see him on a works christmas do once, at the very nadir of his popularity. Needless to say, she wasn't impressed.

12. The Knights of the New Crusade - He Has Risen
Random my fucking arse. This has been on before - which, out of 25k songs probably isn't that likely. Still, bloody good. It's about Jesus, naturally. He has risen, yeah that's his bag, and now our lives, won't be a drag.

13. Jimmy Ruffin - What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?
They have a big cry and eat lots of chocolate, Jimbo. Sometimes they boil pets and the like. Lots of things, really. If you need me to tell you about the greatness of this song, then you know what you are, cement head.

14. Queen - Brighton Rock
It's a rarity this song. A rarity because it is one of the few songs (very possibly the only one, apart from maybe the wanking song, sorry, Flick of the Wrist) on Sheer Heart Attack that doesn't make me want to go and punch Mrs Roger Taylor very hard in the face (it'd have to be him - Freddy's dead, as Curtis Mayfield predicted, with Brian May there is always the chance I might accidentally punch the innocent Anita Dobson by mistake and as for John Deacon, well, I'd likely as not have difficulty picking him out from a line up. Even if he was the only one in it). I really, really detest this album. In fact, I hate this song too, because it is followed by FUCKING LEROY FUCKING BASTARD SHITTY BROWN. I don't mind Queen, I really don't, but did they have to extend their fucking Bugsy Malone period over an entire album? No, they didn't. The song "Sheer Heart Attack" has been scientifically proven to contain three frillion times more enjoyment than the entire album of the same name. An album it isn't even on - this annoys me also. Why do bands do that? Twats.

15. The Fall - Terry Waite Sez
Stop fighting and untie me from this radiator. Oh, and be nice to one another, grow a beard like mine and go to church.

16. Monster Magnet - Snake Dance
If Satan lived in heaven, he'd be me. Uh huh. Let the Snake Dance begin!

17. Curtis Mayfield - (Don't Worry) If There's a Hell Below, We're All Going to Go
Damn skippy. Sisters, brothers and the whiteys. Blacks and the crackas. Police and their backers. Yes, ALL OF YOU. All going to hell. Likely as not in a handcart. If they're playing this, then I don't mind. Well, as long as the crackas are in a different carriage, obviously. The album cover makes it look like Curtis has the longest legs in all of creation.

18. System of a Down - Kill Rock'n'Roll
I want a beard like Serj's. I'm not allowed, apparently. No more records for quite some time from SOAD makes me sad. Although I suppose I have been somewhat spoiled recently with two wonderful albums in very short order. Still, mighty selfish of them. Just because of that, I've listened to it twice in a row.

19. Max Bygraves - A Hard Day's Night
Words really cannot describe how fucking awful this song is. Nor how much better than the original it is, too.

20. Iron Maiden - Run to the Hills
I'm going to get married to this song, should I ever get married. And buried to it. Failing that, I'm just going to walk up and down Market Street pulling along a shopping trolley with a portable stereo in it playing this over and over and over at immense volume. It's good to have a goal in life.

Best. Song. Ever.

T'ra.

Attention, whore!

Listen to your pimp. No, not really. It was about a cat doing something and it looks a bit funny, and it's all, like, attention whore! Probably a cart wheel. Or perhaps a wagon wheel. Yes, that was it. A picture of a cat doing a wagon wheel. Triple X rated!

I spoil you, really I do.

Anyway, enough of this pointless preamble, and on with the equally pointless amble. Starting with...

1. Nirvana - D7
You've sunk my battleship! Which is how, of course, Barry Wiper from The Wipers originally came up with the title for the song. The verses articulate his rage at Keith Wiper from The Wipers for cheating by sneaking a look at his board whilst he was in the toilet and then using this illicit intelligence to sink his minesweeper. Which is a euphemism for gay sex.

2. Gravy Train!!!! - You Made Me Gay
This is also a cover of a Wipers song, written by Barry Wiper after Keith Wiper had introduced him to the joys of sinking the minesweeper on that fateful day. They later unofficially married. Its also a really awesome song.

3. Mad Violets - World of LSD (I Wanna Come Back)
Sadly, the "marriage" didn't last, and Barry Wiper took the unusual step of drowning his sorrows in psychoactive hallucinogenic drugs (bloody rock stars, eh? Special Brew not good enough for them, I suppose). Here, the Mad Violets (in their inimitable 60s garage revivalist way) cover his desperate musical plea to Keith Wiper to take him back and free him from his drugs hell, his "World of LSD" and to recommence firing salvos at his aircraft carrier.

4. Human Expression - Calm Me Down (single)
The plea fell on deaf ears. With his customary determination (a determination he also applied to his drugs intake, leading to the earlier "World of LSD"), Barry Wiper tried again and wrote this heartfelt prayer to the love of his life Keith Wiper. So good was it that it prompted the Human Expression to take the unusual step of recording it almost twenty years before it was written in a 60s jangly sunshiney pop fashion. Bless.

5. Ismail Haron & The Guys - Bersedia
The plight of the star cross'd lovers touched the hearts of millions across the globe, including Ismail who, feeling helpless so far away in the Phillipines (and two decades in the past), recorded this in tribute - "Bersedia" being Phillipinesian for "Vaseline". He stole the tune from The Temptations.

6. Elvis Presley - Blue Suede Shoes (That's The Way It Is Concert Version)
This isn't about Barry Wiper and Keith Wiper, obviously. It's Elvis, and Elvis didn't have a time machine (if he did, he'd probably have gone back, made fewer films, fired his manager and gone a bit easier on the deep fried lard pies). It was, however, later covered by Talking Heads and Tanita Tikaram on a tribute album for the anguished pair called "Won't You Come Back and Sink My Minesweeper One More Time, Baby". Their motivation at choosing this particular song is unclear, although Tanita was once heard to say in that lovely, deep, manly voice of hers that "blue is a nice colour, and they seem nice people, uh-huh". She then went to have her chest waxed.

7. The MonoMen - Murder City Nights
Barry's descent into drug hell has been well documented. What is less widely reported is that during this tormented period of his life (after discovering the joys of sinking the minesweeper and before whatever I make up later) he took to touring the bath-houses and gay brothels of Murder City in the notoriously lawless state of New Jersey. This song obliquely references these episodes. The title of the song is less oblique in its referencing, leading to later lawsuits filed by various members of the Wipers fraternity. Which is, of course, why all subsequent recordings of the song have been cunningly retitled "Deeply Dippy".

8. Melvins - Moon Pie (feat. Kevin Sharp)
This song is over twelve minutes long. It is also less than thirteen minutes long, but that aspect is not as relevant to the point I wish to make. And that point is that it isn't easy making up a load of gibberish regarding Barry Wiper on the spot, prompted by an irreverent off the cuff remark at the end of the first song, you know. It might look easy to be this unrelenting vapid, but let me tell you it ISN'T. Hard bloody work. Thus, the twelve minutes provides me some breathing space - breathing space that I have now wasted a large part of by waffling on about it to you and enjoying having my innards ground out by the Melvins. Moon Pie was, of course, Keith Wiper's favourite dessert and the one eaten at his and Barry Wiper's wedding reception. Rather than using actual moon (that would have been too expensive, even for Barry Wiper), they used the accepted substitute of boiled egg, wrapped in marzipan and dusted liberally with PCP. I didn't make the most of the breathing space, when you think about it.

9. GLC - Roller Disco
Barry Wiper, during his "lost years", liked nothing more than skating round the roller rinks of Murder City, NJ whilst ripped to the tits on LSD and Horse Steroids and wearing little more than a skimpy pair of leatherette hotpants and a wide grin, before desperately scuttling his destroyer with anyone who would take him and experimenting with an assortment of MB Games, such as Guess Who, Connect Four, Ker-Plunk, and Buck-a-roo (which is also a euphemism for gay sex). It was a sad, desperate time.

10. The Rally Packs - Move Out Little Mustang
Barry Wiper knew he had hit rock bottom when he found himself cruising rodeos for horses. He penned this self-reflective ode to his bestiality some years later, which was then covered many decades earlier in a Beach Boys style by these jokers.

11. Lightyears Away (Astral Navigation) - Yesterday
At the height of the sixties psychedelia boom in Britain, this band (with the sort of band name that makes you think you've got it confused with the song title) predicted Barry Wiper's plight by writing a song about the day before. Clever.

12. Man or Astro-Man - Transmissions from Uranus
Barry Wiper's paean to how much he missed sinking the minesweeper with Keith Wiper. Really, with a gift of a song title like that, you should be making up your own entry (hurr, hurr I said "entry").

13. Young Marble Giants - Salad Days
Good friends as they were with the Wiper family, YMG recorded this cryptic and oblique celebration of Keith Wiper and Barry Wiper's joyous reunion as part of their Colossal Youth album. Most cryptic and oblique was the fact that they recorded it a year before the two actually met.

14. Green River - Hangin' Tree
Famously the progenitors of both Mudhoney and Pearl Jam, Green River had many similarities to the Wipers, including the fact they both used guitars. Moved by this similarity, they commemorated in song Barry Wiper's suicide attempt in the aftermath of the rodeo cruising scandal. They did it on one of the Green River songs where they sound like Mudhoney, which is always a bonus. It features on Sub Pop 200 which is, as everyone knows, a benefit for Barry Wiper's rehabilitation fund.

15. The Who - Time is Passing
Yes, yes it is. Curiously enough, those were the precise words spoken by Keith Wiper to Barry Wiper when they kissed and made up. Which is the end of it (unless the next song is called something like "Battleships the Game is a Metaphor for Same-sex Loving" by Keith and Barry Wiper. Which is, let's face it, highly unlikely even for me and my rusty spoon music).

16. Keith and Barry Wiper - Battleships the Game is a Metaphor for Same-sex Loving

16. Mudhoney - Revolution
In your FACE, Jason Pierce and The Other One (what the battleship kind of a name is Sonic Boom anyway?). Far too good a song to ruin with waffle of the kind applied to the previous 15 songs (even if it does explicitly reference drug taking and shoving morphine suppository up one's rectum).

17. Pearl Jam - Education
I think sPazTunes belated picked up on the Green River/Progenitor thing and decided to show off it's l33t mixing skillz. Or something. Either way, a thoroughly enjoyable one of Pearl Jam's "Lost Dogs".

18. Wu-Tang - Triumph (feat. Cappadonna)
What up, G. Scary Rap Dudes ahoy! A premium slice, too, with the opening bomb atomically, socrates, lyrical philosophies verse being one of my favourite bits of Wu (as is Meth's verse afterwards). Not many Scary Rap Collectives can sustain your interest over both discs of a double album. Who can? Wu can.

19. Richard Berry - Louie Louie
One of thirty five gillion versions of Louie Louie. The downside, as with all of them, is that its a version of Louie Louie and therefore inherently shit.

20. Love - Can't Explain (stereo)
Bet you can. Stereo is really easy to explain. You're just not trying.

Well there you go. Musical insight and touching human melodrama all in the space of one weighty, moving and emotional post. I spoil you, really I do.

T'ra.

Treachery!

That was the theme of the removed picture. It was that one of the two cats doing that thing, the really funny thing, and everyone laughed. Ha ha ha. Now fuck off.

Okay, so it wasn't a year. It was a week. Hardly any at all difference in cosmic or geological terms. Regardless, come with me now on a journey through time and space ... well, the labyrinthine recesses of my musical collection, at any rate. It'll be all the same stuff as usual no doubt, including the "humour" from me. Or don't come, I don't really care.

Yeah.

1. Pearl Jam - My Way
Yes, that My Way. It's a live rendition that comprised the b-side of one of their fan-club only singles. So you can probably quite accurately imagine the quality of a) sound and b) performance. It wasn't even good enough to be the a-side of a gift to the sort of people who would happily pay to hear Eddie play the spoons. Or vomit in a vaguely rhythmic fashion. May have been fun if you'd been there. I wasn't and I doubt any of you were. Fucking awful.

2. Chef - No Substitute
Stellar opening, sPazTunes. Way to make my musical collection an even more radiant pit of shit than most people already surmise it to be. Yes, that Chef. So on the plus side, you have Isaac's superb voice. On the down side, well, on the down side you have the fact that it barely sustains your ears' attention for the entire length of the first listen. And, seeing as I've heard it often before, it's not much fun. Not even Isaac singing his own high pitched backing inbetween his own bits. At least it's not Chocolate Salty Balls, I suppose.

3. Devo - Space Junk
It's Devo. So yes, lurking at the back of your mind is the Rugrats theme. Not my favourite Devo song. Not even in the top three. Or top five. Hell, it doesn't make the top ten. Why do I have a top ten of Devo songs readibly referenceable in my head? Still, easy enough on the ears.

4. Mirah - You've Gone Away Enough
But you haven't. Please go away a bit further. Bit further. Little bit further. Ta.

5. Mudhoney - Ounce of Deception
There are six gillion reasons to love Mudhoney, and you can hear them all in pretty much every bastarding song. I want all six gillion learnt and recitable by next week, please. Or at least four.

6. Van Der Graaf Generator - After the Flood
You'll need a sodding great mop. Eleven and a half minutes of splendidness. Splendidity. Splendosity. I could be a while doing this, we've got time to kill. Splendulousness. Splenderisity. No, not even I could fill the remaining eight minutes with whimsical spellings of splendid. Just go and listen to the song. And the rest of the album "The Least We Can Do is Wave to Each Other", because then you'd get to hear the heartpunchingly beautiful Refugees, as well. Which is not to be confused with The Fugees, who are in no way heartpunchingly beautiful. Although that Pras sure has his moments. It's got an organ (hurr, hurr), a flute, a touch of discordant atonality, lots of different speeds and Peter Hamill's voice. That's every box well and truly ticked for me, cement head.

7. Big Black - Fish Fry
It's like every other Big Black song - i.e. horrendously overrated and not as good as Naked Raygun. Apart from Colombian Necktie. I really like that one. But it's like all the other ones apart from that one.

8. Nova Mob - Please Don't Ask
The nice end of solo Hüsker Dü, the Grant end, the end without Bob being an MTV suck up. I guessed the alt+numbers for the 'ü' then. Took me a while. It's really quite a pretty song. Only to be expected, given that it has been proved by scientists in a lab that Grant >>> Bob to a factor of transfinity. Plus one. In your FACE, Mouldboy.

9. Led Zeppelin - Achilles Last Stand
Watch your heels! Should have worn protective boots, he'd have been fine. Led Zeppelin are one of those bands that manage to be overrated and underrated at the same time. This falls into the overrated bit. Long for the sake of it, and a minimum of riff-based hotness. Still, it's alright I suppose, just not for ten minutes. I think sPazTunes is going for some kind of mix-length record.

10. Quintron & Miss Pussycat - Shoplifter
It goes "boing" occasionally. Honestly, words cannot do justice to the unique aceness of Mr. Quintron. Go find out for yourself. And there would be worse starting points than this song. Go on. GO ON.

11. Denny & Lenny and the Hollywood Ghouls - Monster's Love
It's a do-wop lament about a monster. Your mind should be boggling slightly about now, cement head.

12. Deep Purple - Pictures of Home
A choice slice of The Purps. Ian Gillan on cracking form, you can almost hear a young Bruce Dickinson taking notes. As Machine Head songs go, it's not as good as Highway Star or Space Truckin', but better than Smoke on the Water (the live version of that is the only good one anyway). Chugs along like a bitch. A big rock bitch.

13. The Saints - Run Down
Thanks, Australia. Thaustralia. Punkily and grubbily poppy, with a bearable amount of harmonica (which, for me, isn't a terribly large amount). Should have been more famous. Famouser.

14. Roxy Music - Do The Strand (Live '75)
Fantastic song, good version (although the sound levels jump dramatically now and then. Bastard for headphones. But still, as bootlegs go, it's pretty fucking damn wonderful).

15. BBC Radiophonic Workshop - Dr. Who Theme
In the very slight possibility that Gav is reading this nonsense, I should make it clear that it's the 1980-85 version. There is a difference, you know. Dediggedyding dediggedyding oooooh weeeeeeeee ooooooooooohhh...

16. The Lovemongers - Battle of Evermore
Piss. In music form.

17. The Sweet - Action
How good were t'Sweet. No, seriously. I'd forgotten. AND THATS WHY EVERBODY WANTS A PIECE OF THE ACTION. Sorry, overtaken by the lyrics there. It's no Teenage Rampage, but it's still mighty fine. Feeling fed up? Listen to t'Sweet! Guaranteed cure. But not the shit ones. Only the good ones. Like this one. I GOT WHAT EVERYBODY NEEDS, SATISFACTION GUARANTEED. Sorry, it happened again.

18. Beat Happening - Knick Knack
Bit of a change, there. A lovely one, though. Now, give me t'Sweet back, dammit.

19. The Masonics - Return of the Galloping Goblin
Certainly gallops, in its little medway way. Not sure about the Goblin aspect, though. Who cares, when it's this good!

20. Electric Wizard - Weird Tales / Electric Frost / Altar of Melektaus
Fuck, yeah. A quarter hour of head-scouring, brain-stirring, innards-rumbling grinding riffz. With a motherfucking Z. Honestly, why there isn't a copy of "Dopethrone" in every household in the land, NAY, the world, I'll never know. Actually, I know already. It's because you're all cement heads who haven't realised how fucking ecstatically and rib-jarringly wonderful this album is. I reckon Funeralopolis should be played at my funeral. But only if I could be alive to see their faces. And to make sure they played all nine minutes of it. With all fifteen minutes of this at the wake. That'd be ace.

So yes. I'm off to stick Dopethrone on repeat about forty-three times.

T'ra.