Durpee-durpee-durpee-klangaklangaklangalang

May continues. The gigs continue. I'm sure many of you at this stage, like me, probably want to read a blow-by-blow account of how Spencer Krug/Bradford Cox/Matt Berringer behaved themselves in some small Dublin venue as much as you want the rough end of a Black and Decker drill ground into your right eyeball. If so, stick around on the compost heap for a minute or two. You can enjoy a bit of respite from the gig grind as I turn my eye to the frankly shit-your-pants-terrifying camp-ocalypse that is this year's Eurovision song contest. Its on telly right now. I almost missed it, but was reminded that something strange was on TV by the tottering 6 foot Bet Gilroy-style male creatures in shimmering wigs that walked past my window earlier this evening clutching bottles of wine and knocking into number 3. A gay hair-stylist lives at number 3. He crashed our last Christmas party looking more festively bronzed than a well-done turkey and stole a bottle of Absolut Vodka. Anyway, as increasingly more exotic and gay looking dudes walked past the front window, it quickly clicked that the Eurovision was afoot, and there was a special cross-dressing party to mark the event underway a few doors down. We switched over, hoping the spectacle on screen would live up to the spectacle outside. As always, it was good for a few laughs, was a timely reminder that for one evening a year an entire continent can be a little bit gay, and was a curate's egg mixture of the monotonous, the diverting, the terrifying and Terry Wogan's (somewhat sparse) one-liners which included this one gem "she's surrounded by the three statutory prancing eejits".

I noticed a few things this year.

1: At least 40% of the songs are basically a melody-free version of the Muslim call to prayer on gak chanted by a transexual over an unhinged middle-eatern drumbeat with a gratuitous key change near the end. Something along the lines of Durpee-durpee-durpee-klangaklangaklangalang. This is somewhat acceptable from the likes of Turkey, but from Ukraine?

2: Sebastian Tellier sang a surprisingly sophisticated pop-song in the French tradition. But he looked so freakishly like John Waters I half expected a pained middle eight relating to the soulless twilight of the Celtic Tiger, Katy French and father's rights.

3: The demented Spanish dude was really, really a lot like Dublin indie merchant Robotnik. Chris Morrin oughta sue.



Robotnik..........................Scary Spanish Dude

4: Finland is fucking scary. Its full of leathery mountain dwelling monsters and bouffant 7 foot men with pointy guitars.

5: Ireland loves Latvia and Lithuania. I'll put it out there and say its because they are the most musically talented countries in Europe. I mean why else would we give them 10 and 12 points?

6: Russia won. Because everyone is scared shitless of Vladimir Putin. In fact the Eurovision is a 1984 style, thinly veiled, horrific harbinger of a soulless, autocratic Europe controlled by its most oil-rich country.

7: Bosnia Herzogovina deserved to win. Their effort was spectacular. Women knitting. A Helena Bonham Carter character hanging clothes on a rope. A dizzying, hypnotic trip of a tune sung in the style of Of Montreal by a strange elfin man who stalked the stage like the malfunctioning love child of Kevin Barnes and the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. They may not have won, but surely, they'll be booked for ATP next year?

My token MP3 unfortunately has nowt to do with the Eurovision. Its more Built to Spill. Why? Cos Im still creaming meself that they are playing Dublin. This song is called Else. Its plays like a soft, extended hug. Play it on repeat. Its a never ending charm.

MP3: Built to Spill-Else

Stop Making That Sound!!!

This is probably the most excitable post I've ever written on this blog. Why? Because I just found out Built to Spill are playing here, in Dublin, in November. My shit-eating grin is currently so wide open at this news that I look like 80s video game pixel gobbler, Pac-Man. I started Asleep on the Compost Heap last September, and I think I've digitally expressed my ragged tiny-tim style yearning for Built to Spill to play a live gig in Ireland on at least 3 separate occasions. Well somehow a Dublin promoter got 'em, and its going to be magical. 'Perfect from now' on is one of the most formidable guitar albums ever recorded. I think a lot of shite gets spouted about Nirvana, Sonic Youth, Dinosuar Jr etc, but in my opinion 'perfect from now on' is the definitive psychedelic left-field yank album of the 90s. If I've heard it once I've heard it a million times, and yet despite repetition, the transition from slowcore introspection to visionary finger picked psychedelic madness in 'stop the show' is one of the most tingling moments in any song I've heard. Also, unlike other rarefied alterno-gods (in my head anyway) like Pavement and Guided by Voices, Built to Spill still give it socks!!!! Just listen to 'goin' against your mind' off their most recent album 'you in reverse'; it's an affirming reminder that Doug Marsch can still knock out a blinding tune if not a full album. I won't go on any more 'cos its sad. My girlfriend Loreana loves them as much as me, bet she's blabbing on her blog. Anyway, two fine musical reasons to see Built to Spill are...

1: MP3: Built to Spill:-kicked it in the sun
2:MP3 Built to Spill:-distopian dream girl

When I'm feeling a wee bit down in the dumps, I actually listen to kicked it in the sun to make me smile. Its the sonic equivalent of prozac. As for t'udder stuff, its all so, so good. Built to Spill RAWK!

This coming May...

...is nearly falling off the calendar, its so laden with gig dates. The amount of choice on offer is disorientating in its sheer abundance and quality. Its scary. Because of increasing college research commitments, I'll likely be low on money and busy at work. So I can only realistically go to a small few. How will I choose? Deerhunter or Animal Collective? Jens Lekman or Sunset Rubdown? Gui Boratto or the Hold Steady? And thats not to mention other bands I'm not as obsessed with but would likely check out if it were any other month. That's Battles, Yeasayer, Liars, Man Man, the National etc... There are some tough gig choices ahead. Can we not just lump them all into Trabolgan for an Irish style ATP with go karts, waterslides and wooly alterno-music? That would be a savage solution to the predicament.


MP3: Built to Spill-Distopian Dream Girl

Thinking of gigs. I know I've blogged about this before but fuck it here I go again. Its 'cos of a recurring dream I've had a few times. Last Summer I saw Built to Spill play at Primavera on the main stage late one night with a sparkling full moon reflected on the sea behind them. Doug Marsh's inimitably epic guitar squiggles swelled magnificently to fill that landscape. The entire night felt thick with music, these pealing, meandering riffs and melodies that kept heaping up on each other, breaking apart, crashing and spilling all over the place, meshing with their stunning surroundings and casting an indescribable spell in the balmy air. I was there with my girlfriend and good mates. They all shared the same shit-eating grin with me whenever I caught their eye. Moments like that only happen a few times in your life. Anyway, I mention this because the gig had such an effect on me I've dreamt about three times since that Built to Spill played Dublin. Mad lucid dreams they were too. Dreams so realistic I could nearly see the nits hopping about in Doug's beard. And I never dream about gigs. Are they premonitions? Will the 'Spill's seeming never-ending tour of the States ever hit our shores? Now that Guided by Voices are permanently split, I can safely say that this would be top of my wish list of fantasy gigs. Hold on a sec, the clouds in my crystal ball are clearing, I can see it now. Its Whelans, its sometime in September, is that...I can't be sure...yay it sure is! Built to Spill with a special guest appearance by Calvin Johnson for a quick spin through Virginia Reel around the Fountain. I swear, I'm gonna wish this shit into existence!

Under the bushes under the stars...

I love yappin' on about music with a few drinks at 3 or 4 in the morning. To others, I must sound like a braying megaphone repeating the words 'guided by voices' until sunrise, but from my side its a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Hah, I remember my mother used to tell me to be quiet at night, because my voice 'carries'. Well it definitely 'carries' when Mr Tuborg and Mr ipod are on the agenda. But its a great moment late at night, when the ipod is jacked into a stereo and the enthusiasm comes spilling out all over the place as one more 'best tune ever' gets played and yapped over. Recently enough, at such an hour with my mate Frank (who's just like me when it comes to these things) we were talking about cool band and album names. But first, a shite band name. Coldplay. Go on, say it out loud. Meh, what a meaningless, dreary compound word it is, probably fretted over for ages. It falls off your tongue like wet wool. Although it serves fair warning for what you'll find inside a coldplay album, tepid puddles of grey aural poop. Now compare that to something like Guided by Voices, Olivia Tremor Control or Hello, I'm a truck. Anyway, that night we were shiteing on not so much about band names, but brilliant album names and it just hit me, "the moon and antarctica" (Modest Mouse's second album). What a name for an album. Its so evocative. A lifeless sphere of rock hangs motionless over earth's most barren continent. A perfect metaphor for an isolated state of mind, and entirely apt for Isaac Brock's odd and alienated lyrics. Its also an exceptionally beautiful mental image. Other great album names I can think of are "far away trains passing" by Ulrich Schnauss, "and the surrounding mountains" by Radar Bros and, "in the aeroplane over the sea" by Neutral Milk Hotel. Hoh, I've only noticed that they all paint a striking mental picture of a time or place. I'm a pure sucker for that sort of thing. If I had a band, I'd call it "The salt spring island beekeepers" and our first album would be "Smoking weed at the calgary stampede." The cover art would be a picture of a antromorphic moose listening to a vitrola on his lakeside porch.

Today's picture is the moon and antarctica.


A warmer moon hung over the med for us when Built to Spill played primavera. The big stage suited them, and Doug Martsch's guitar scraped the sky. This song in particular stood out for me...
MP3: GOING AGAINST YOUR MIND
Oh and I'm gonna post direct links to MP3s more often now. The imeem thingy keeps trimming songs down to 30 seconds. As ever, if ya like built to spill, go buy their stuff. 'Perfect from now on' is a masterpiece of an album and an excellent starting point.