80s music flashback

A couple of songs which have recently appeared on my metaprical musical radar, and which will therefore obviously be shared on the blog.

While there are a lot of famous 80s songs, I don’t think that these are/were amongst them. They’re not ones that you will hear at 80s-themed disco parties, although if you were looking for a archetypal early 80s analogue synth piece, this first one really does tick all the boxes. And (like Alphaville) the lyrics for John Foxx’s Underpass are… well… “basic”:

Click-click drone
Click-click drone
Click-click drone
Click-click drone
Click-click…
Underpass
Underpass
Underpass
Underpass
Underpass
Underpass
Underpass
Underpass

Wonderful.

And if that was a bit fast and loud for you, please now relax with This Mortal Coil’s version of Song To The Siren from 1984:

Wow. How beautiful is that?

Music posts on 6000 miles… don’t get as many hits as some of the other stuff I write about on here: perhaps because musical tastes are such a personal thing. Or perhaps because my musical tastes can be a bit odd. But I know that there is a hardcore set of readers who do like to give the stuff I share a spin.

Why not join them? You might just find something you like. And – if you want to delve a little more deeply – both these tracks make it onto my inspired by 6 Spotify playlist.

Rhubarb’s “sick beats”

I had to check that this wasn’t an April Fools joke.

For the record, I’m still not 100% convinced.

Still, keeping that disclaimer firmly in mind, how’s this for a story?

EVERYONE’S ALWAYS GOING ON ABOUT the sound of the leaves rustling in the trees, but if you want your mind blown by plant sounds, check out rhubarb growing in the dark.

Forced rhubarb, which is made to mature in near total darkness, grows at such an alarming rate—as much as an inch a day—that it actually makes squeaks, creaks, and pops as it gets bigger. It makes for sweeter rhubarb, growers say, and sick beats.

I used to live just a short distance south of England’s infamous 9 square mile Rhubarb Triangle, where rhubarb is/was grown in large, low sheds in near complete darkness:

But I didn’t know that it made sounds as it grew.

And look, I dispute the whole “sick beats” thing, although with modern music sampling technology and a vague modicum of talent, I’m sure someone could use this as some sort of basis for a surefire dancefloor hit.

It sounds like iGentle conversation in isiXhosa. What do you think?

No-one tell Skrillex. God, please no.

On the plus side, if this is what the young people are listening to these days with their youthful Hippity-Hop music tastes, then they should hear my aching bones getting out of bed each morning.

A click-and-pop fest of note.

Coming to a club near you, real soon now.

Great radio

It was probably somewhere around 45 minutes into the BBC 6 Music morning show yesterday that it suddenly dawned on me that the presenter (do we still call them “DJ”s?) had played banger after banger after banger.

No, not sausages or sketchy cars. Some top tunes.

It was at that point that I tweeted about it. I surely couldn’t have been the only one who had noticed this amazing sequence. Those of you willing to do the hard yards having clicked through on that link will note that it was retweeted by the show account and by “DJ” Tom Ravenscroft himself, by the way.

Fame, innit?

The thing is, the pressure was then on. Surely Tom couldn’t keep it going, filling 3 hours with barely a foot placed incorrectly? It stands to reason that it can’t come that close to perfection, right? Right.
But no, he only went and did it.

I’ve said before (often) that BBC 6 Music is my spiritual home as far as music listening goes. So it makes sense that as a listener, I would generally enjoy the majority of the music played on there. But that doesn’t mean that I like every song. That would be ridiculous.
So to line up 40+ songs of which I liked… well… 40+ of them, must be some sort of record.

No. Pun. Intended.

I’d hate you to miss out on this incredible show, themed around nothing other than the 6 Music playlist and Mr Ravenscroft’s very good taste, and I’d hate to forget just which songs made me feel this way, so I (roughly) PDF’d the show page for posterity.

And, because words are nothing (in this context) without music, I popped it on a Spotify playlist for you (and me) as well.

Ideally, ignore the Shuffle Play option and listen to it all as Nature Tom intended.
I can’t help with Mogwai’s Party in the Dark (6 Music Live at Maida Vale 2017), Skee Mask’s Rev8617 or lié’s Fill It Up  because Spotify doesn’t have those tracks available. But you get the idea.

I don’t often run as far as rampant hyperbole. In fact, I usually shy away from any such nonsense. But this might have been the best radio show that I have ever listened to.

Enjoy.

More Toto covers

We’ve heard this song covered on the harpejji and by an American choir.

Now here it is on an Otamatone (no, I’d never heard of one either).

And now I never want to hear one again.
Sweet Baby Cheeses. That’s awful.

And here’s a version on a rubber chicken.

And yes, despite not being an actual recognised musical instrument, the chicken one is much better.
Much, much better.

Right – that’s enough internet for today, I think.

Just another indie playlist

Well… Indie/Britpop and anything else that I fancied actually.
You may recognise a few songs from previous blog posts.

Dive into (a bit of) my musical world here:

Link.

 

Have fun.