Countdown To 40: A Song A Year - 20 Is The New Teenage

The first ten years...

The troublesome teens...

And now, part 3 of my Countdown to...

21 (1993) Aimee Mann - I Should've Known

If I were being retroactive, I'd pick something like OU or Razzmatazz from the Pulp: Intro album, but sadly I didn't discover Jarvis till the following year. I did discover Aimee Mann in '93 though and even chose her debut solo record, Whatever, as my album of the year. Mr. Harris is probably my favourite track from that disc now, but this is the one that made me love Aimee at the time.

Meanwhile, the singles chart had fallen off a cliff. Number One as I got the key to the door? Oh Carolina by Shaggy.

22 (1994) Morrissey - Now My Heart Is Full

And I just can't explain so I won't even try to

Jarvis almost made it home once again, I could have gone with just about anything from His 'n' Hers. But then there's Vauxhall & I. Could this be Morrissey's finest 39 minutes as a solo artist?

I told you the birthday number ones just get worse and worse. March 19th, 1994? Doop. By Doop. Sadly, not this one...

23 (1995) Pulp - Common People

All hail Britpop, and its greatest hero finally makes it home. I could have chosen Sorted For E's & Whizz, but I'd just be being contrary.

Meanwhile in the charts... Love Can Build A Bridge by Cher, Chrissie Hynde, Neneh Cherry and Eric Clapton. Who all should have known better.

24 (1996) Ocean Colour Scene - The Day We Caught The Train

At last, proof that my favourite singles don't always come from my favourite albums. This was the year of Everything Must Go, Beautiful Freak and Murder Ballads... yet the song that most reminds me of my second stab at being a teenager is this exuberant blast of sunshiny retro-pop from Ocean Colour Scene. Hard to believe they were the first band I ever saw live.

Meanwhile, back in the charts... How Deep Is Your Love? Shallow, when it comes to the Take That version. Not so shallow they couldn't drown a few Gibb brothers in it.

25 (1997) Blur - Song 2

Blur were a great singles band and this was their greatest moment. Two minutes of noisy power pop that never fail to make me go "Woo hoo!" While Radiohead, The Verve and Gene were darkening my long player collection, Damon and the lads kept me smiling. This year's runner-up was a hymn to optimism from James: Tomorrow.

And in an alternate reality to my own, The Spice Girls were having their 4th Number One as I reached my mid-20s. I can't even remember the title.

26 (1998) The New Radicals - You Get What You Give

Another song that stands out by not belonging to one of the year's best albums. 1998 gave us my favourite record of the 90s, Pulp's public breakdown on This Is Hardcore. But the single of the year belongs to Gregg Alexander, a man who hated being a rock star so much he went off and wrote songs for Ronan Keating.

Sadly, I can't find my other favourite single of 1998 on youtube. Child Psychology by Black Box Recorder must be too dark for the video collective.

March 19th 1998, the Number One was It's Like That by Run DMC vs. Jason Nevins. Which is a damn sight better than we've managed throughout the rest of this decade so far.

27 (1999) Travis - Why Does It Always Rain On Me?

I thought long and hard about this one. It would have been so much cooler to pick something by The Magnetic Fields (69, my favourite album of '99), The Flaming Lips or even Ooberman, but as much as Fran Healey has damaged his limited rep by writing MOR-pap for the last 10+ years, this is still a perfect gloomy-pop song that captures a snapshot of my life in 1999. I remember watching them play it live at a festival just before they went big, in the rain. Perfect.

Besides, it could have been worse. I could have chosen my last birthday Number One of the 20th Century. Boyzone murdering Billy Ocean. When The Going Gets Tough... the tough put their hands over their ears and go lalalalalalalala.

28 (2000) Everclear - Wonderful

Neither of my two favourite singles of 2000 meant much to the public at large. I've written about Black Box Recorder's The Facts Of Life before, but Wonderful by Everclear is a curio. An American band who have never bothered the British charts, this is their greatest moment. More upbeat power-pop packed with smiley hooks, handclaps and a 'na-na-na' chorus... masking a dark lyrical undertow.

Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now

Far less Wonderful, my first birthday chart-topper of the 21st Century: Bag It Up by Geri Halliwell. WTF? Is that Geri singing about her shopping? I'm not sure I've ever even heard that record. I am sure I never want to.

29 (2001) Eels - Souljacker Part 1

Ben Folds came close with Rockin' The Suburbs, but this rocks harder.

And on my birthday? Pure And Simple by Hear'Say. The charts are officially dead.

30 (2002) The Flaming Lips - Do You Realise?

The song I want playing at my funeral. Kind of apt for my 30th birthday?

But as I actually turned 30, Will Young was at Number One, marking the funeral of the singles chart as we knew it. Simon Cowell slaughtered the damned thing before our very eyes.

Ten more years to go...

Movie Review: The Descendants

There were a lot of reasons I wanted to see The Descendants. I'm a big fan of director Alexander Payne's previous movies: Sideways, About Schmidt and Election. I enjoy George Clooney's laconic Cary Grant shtick and was intrigued by the awards buzz surrounding his latest performance. And the film's set in Hawaii, so if nothing else we could be sure it'd be nice to look at.

As with all Payne's prominent work, The Descendants is a leisurely, spacious film that allows much time for subtle characterisation and quietly observed comedy. I'd say it probably made me laugh less than any of the films listed above, but then I did make the mistake of popping to the loo during what Louise later informed me had been the funniest scene. That said, it did make me smile a lot and Clooney was charming and sympathetic as ever. Was it his best role? No, he was far better in O, Brother Where Art Thou? where he actually got to do some proper acting, rather than just playing himself. But it's his time, there's a lot of good will towards him, and there are far worse movie stars getting far more recognition, so I don't begrudge him the plaudits. Some attention must however be given to his kids, played by Shailene Woodley and Amara Miller, both of whom inhabit their complex roles with ease, and the dumb teenage layabout Sid (Nick Krause), who gets dragged along on their adventures and ultimately proves to be there for more than just clichéd comic relief. As for Hawaii, I was impressed by how Payne showed us a different side of the islands than we usually get from Hollywood. Still beautiful, but a little more rainy and windswept with random chickens scattering the streets and fallen leaves filling the swimming pools. It made me want to visit even more.

If you enjoyed Payne's previous films, you'll enjoy The Descendants. Arguably, it's not his best work, but it's another fine addition to the cv for both him and Clooney. And there's a Beau Bridges cameo too, looking almost more dudelike than even his brother could manage.

Dead Pop Stars

The first pop star I remember dying was the biggest. I was only five years old, but even though my parents were old enough to be from the generation before rock 'n' roll, I still remember the death of Elvis in 1977. I remember standing in the door from the kitchen to the living room and asking my mum to explain what had happened. I must have been able to sense the shock in the air, the shock of the whole world to the death of a legend.

By contrast, I have no memory whatsoever of the death of John Lennon three years later. Perhaps it meant less to my parents, though that's hard to believe. Not because they were Beatles fans, but because the circumstances of Lennon's end were so much more dramatic than Elvis's heart exploding while he sat on the loo. I made up for not acknowledging Lennon's death as a child by becoming fascinated by it later in life. When I went through my Beatles phase, in my late teens / early 20s, the subject obsessed me, fed largely by Jack Jones's Chapman biography, Let Me Take You Down. I even created Pepper's Ghost in tribute, a spooky character in The Jock who died as the result of a record shop argument over which was the best Beatles album.

The death that had the biggest effect on me was Freddie Mercury. I've written before about how Freddie was my first rock idol. The tragic thing about Freddie's death was that we got to watch him waste away before our eyes. You have to admire his conviction to keep recording until his last breath, even though he was little more than a skeleton with a moustache by the time he announced his condition to the world. I still find it painful to watch the videos he recorded for that last Queen album. Live fast, die young, leave a good looking corpse... Freddie didn't get much choice in that.

Roy Orbison, Michael Hutchence, Kurt Cobain, Joe Strummer, Kirsty MacColl, Michael Jackson, George Harrison, Warren Zevon, Harry Nilsson, Clarence Clemons, Amy Winehouse... I remember being affected by all their deaths to varying degrees, among many others. And it's only going to get worse, isn't it? Not just the ones who burn out, but those who fade away too. I can only imagine how I'll feel when Bruce hangs up his guitar for the final time or Moz finally chucks himself off Beachy Head. How inconsolable will I be?

Though only two months old, 2012's already proved fatal for Whitney Houston. I had a soft spot for Whitney, if only because 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody' is one of many songs that reminds me of unrequited crushes at high school discos.

And now we say goodbye to Davy Jones too. The man who gave us this...

"Okay. Now really, like, don't get excited, man. Just 'cause I'm short, I know."

...the self-deprecating intro to one of the greatest pure pop singles ever recorded. For a "manufactured boy band", The Monkees were anything but a manufactured boy band. There was more charm, heart and humour in Davy Jones's little toe than in Ronan Keating's entire recording career. I mean, people said they monkeyed around, but they were too busy singing to put anybody down. They were just trying to be friendly - after all, they were the young generation and they'd got something to say.

While I long since grew out of the Beatles, I don't believe I'll ever grow out of the Monkees. I felt genuinely sad when I read of Davy's passing. Another part of my childhood, another musical hero, another ever-smiling memory: gone. Still, cheer up, sleepy Jean... we'll always have the songs to remember him by.



Which rock star death had the biggest effect on you? And who will you mourn the most when they finally join the heavenly choir?

Top Ten Uptown / Downtown Songs

We'll get sexual next week. I promise. Meanwhile, for no reason other than I thought it'd make a cool playlist...

When I started compiling this top ten, I had the notion that 'uptown' and 'downtown' were more American concepts than British. Then I remembered that here in Yorkshire it's quite common to hear someone say "I'm going up town" or especially "I'm off down town". If someone not from Yorkshire were to attempt to write those phrases phonetically, they'd use that annoying t' abbreviation that nobody actually uses round these parts ("I'm off down t' town"). There is no t', we just miss out the definite article completely. There endeth today's Yorkshire grammar lesson... now on with the songs.

10. Dogs Must Be Carried - Way Downtown

DMBC were a comedy indie band from London who brought out an album packed with cleverly written and well-performed parodies of acts like Pulp, Morrissey, Van Morrison and this, their T-Rex moment. Sadly I can't find any of those on youtube, but if you click here, you can hear their hilarious Liam Lynch parody 'United Kingdom Of Whenever' (the X-Files lyric makes me smile every time). And their album is still available to download from that Amazon, should you be so inclined.

9. Primal Scream - Uptown

Primal Scream were a comedy indie band who brought out a series of cleverly written and well-performed parodies of The Rolling Stones (only joshing, lads!)... although this one sounds more like George Michael, actually.

8. The Blue Nile - The Downtown Lights

I've probably told this story before, but when does that ever stop me? About 15 or so years ago, I had a really bad bout of insomnia. I tried everything to help me fall asleep but nothing did the trick. Then I put The Blue Nile's album 'Hats' on the headphones... problem solved.

7. The Crystals - Uptown

Ah, Phil Spector, where are you now? Oh, wait, you're in the nick, serving time for crimes against hairpieces and working with Starsailor. Still, nobody who could make records like this could be all bad.

6. Petula Clark - Downtown

When you're alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go downtown

It's diabolical that my first thought on hearing the name Tony Hatch is "Crossroads theme tune" rather than "Downtown".

5. Billy Joel - Uptown Girl

Everyone knows that Billy Joel dedicated this song to his then-wife Christie Brinkley, yet wikipedia claims it was originally written about his previous girlfriend, Elle Macpherson. Billy Joel: the former boxer who looks like he took one too many roundhouses to the face before he became a pop star. Macpherson, then Brinkley. He must have a terrific... sense of humour.

I'm a huge Billy Joel fan, but this record has been tarnished by far too many wedding party discos. And the video is cheese on a log.

4. Lloyd Cole - Downtown

I want to see a touch of evil in your eye
But all that I'm getting babe is sweetness and lies
I want to see something that I might desire
I want to take you down babe into the mire
Deals going down no chance no masking
One thing's for sure never get what you're asking
They're coming with Johnsons, they're coming with knives
They're robbing your boots when they give you a shoe shine

Obviously a different area than the one Petula frequented. This'd be the part of town I'd break down in.

3. Randy Edelman - Uptown Uptempo Woman

Don't care what you say, I love this. He may look like the fired fourth member of Rod, Jane & Freddie, but dude can play piano... and has some stamina in the lovemaking department if his lyrics are even half-true.

2. Tom Waits - Downtown Train

There was a time when Tom Waits sounded like little more than a hoarse Springsteen. And nothing wrong with that. See also Downtown. It's obviously a part of town Tom knew well.

1. Althia & Donna - Uptown Top Ranking

Undoubtedly the coolest uptown or downtown record ever recorded, and the Black Box Recorder version ain't too shabby neither.

As an experiment, I've tried making this Top Ten available on spotify. Click here if you're into that stuff... and let me know if it works.



So... Uptown or Downtown. Where you headed tonight?

Book Review - The Good, The Bad and The Multiplex by Mark Kermode

"All you really need to know about The Oscars is that they're the awards that didn't give a Best Picture gong to Citizen Kane, but did give one to Driving Miss Daisy. Just think about that for a moment and try to imagine a world in which Driving Miss Daisy really was the best film you were going to see all year. Be honest. You'd throw yourself off a bridge, wouldn't you?"

As I said when I reviewed his last book, It's Only A Movie, I rarely disagree with Mark Kermode when it comes to cinema. Films, yes, occasionally we quibble over individual movies. Even then, I can usually see his point (even if I disagree). But when it comes to his thoughts on cinema itself, Mark Kermode is my soul brother.

I don't think critics should do the job of watching movies for you. I don't even think they should do the job of telling you which movies to watch. Or what you should think about them. No, I think critics should do the job of watching all the movies and then telling you what they think in a way which is honest, engaging, erudite and (if you're lucky) entertaining.

Beyond that, you're on your own.

His latest book tackles just What's Wrong With Modern Cinema. And I nodded my head so much, Louise thought I'd developed a twitch.

From major problems with the movie-going experience itself (the frustrations of online ticket buying, badly framed films and why popcorn is wrong) to the way Hollywood is screwing up and dumbing down the end product (like me, Kermode has a serious loathing of 3D - though he does point out that the Nazis were big fans) to the thorny question of "What are film critics for anyway?", this book is always entertaining, often hilarious and occasionally infuriating. I shared his frustration and pain - particularly when he was arguing with a pompous cinema "manager" who obviously had little interest in how films were projected onto the screen. Together, we mourned the death of the professional projectionist and looked back fondly on a world where ushers did more than just tear your ticket stub. And when he compares the modern cinema going experience to Westworld minus Yul Brynner... well, I had to shudder.

In the wake of Avatar's bum-numbing stereoscopic success, every half-witted Hollywood producer without an original thought in their coke-addled heads decided that 3D was a cash cow and all future products must be forced to conform to this glutinous economic paradigm forthwith. Never mind the fact that (James) Cameron had spent years gazing at his own navel trying to figure out how to make a game-changing movie in a medium which no one had liked for almost a century. Say what you like about Avatar (that it's infantile, overlong, shamelessly derivative, wildly patronising, and laughably lacking in humour from start to finish - which it is), at least its creator believed in the technological innovations apparently required to bring it to the screen. Never mind that the film looks a million times better in 2D (clearer, sharper, brighter) or that Pandora is a far more immersive world when not viewed through the alienating annoyance of polarised lenses that make everything seem dark, dingy and dismally diminutive. At least Cameron thought he was doing the right thing - like Tony Blair deciding to invade Iraq, only with less tragic results.

Countdown To 40: A Song A Year - Teenage Wasteland

So the countdown to March 19th continues (one in the eye for all those who believe we'll have to wait till December 21st for the 2012 apocalypse) and I'm back to picking one song for every year of my life so far.

These were my choices from 1972 - 1982... and now, on with the show.

11 (1983) Yes - Owner Of A Lonely Heart

What!? I hear you scream. You chose this over A New England or any of the songs on your favourite Costello album, Punch The Clock? I know, it's shocking, isn't it? I was never a huge Yes fan but this one album - this one song - soundtracked so many of my teenage memories. It's partly that killer riff, partly the sentiment (I was that Owner Of A Lonely Heart), partly John Anderson's angelic vocals... and yeah, partly the Trevor Horn sheen. It's not one man and his guitar singing an out of tune song about how all the girls in his school were already pushing prams: it's impossible to compare the two. But it'd be a few more years before I fell for Billy Bragg. When I was 11, this rocked my world.

Speaking of which, Number One in the charts on my 11th birthday? Another Jim Steinman classic. Turn the pomp up to 11 with Total Eclipse Of The Heart. Brilliant.

12 (1984) Bruce Springsteen - Glory Days

This is where it starts to get difficult. Do I pick a song that would mean more to me in later life, something from The Smiths or Rattlesnakes by Lloyd Cole? Or do I go with my gut and settle for the one album that screams 1984 louder than anything else in my head? Not the best Bruce album, but certainly the most iconic. And when you're 12 and only just finding your pop feet, that's all you want.

Meanwhile, if I'm feeling old, I just need to look at Bruce Springsteen in this video. God, he looks about 12 - and yet, he'd been making records for well over a decade by the time he finally made the big time.

At number one on my final pre-teen birthday? Lionel Richie, Hello. At least it wasn't I Just Called To Say I Love You.

13 (1985) Huey Lewis & The News - The Power Of Love

Oh god, when will he get past his American rock phase, you're wondering? Not just yet. Huey Lewis was another of my teenage heroes, helped along by Michael J. Fox and his DeLorean. Yes, this was the year of How Soon Is Now, and if I'd opened my ears properly I might have realised Morrissey had written that song just for me. But despite my teenage moodiness, I had an optimistic spirit and Back To The Future was my teen movie. Well, that and Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Huey and the gang made three great albums prior to this one... and never came close again. Maybe that's what sent my tastebuds off in other musical directions?

It could be worse. The Number One that marked my ascent to teenagerdom? Easy Lover by Phil Collins and Philip Bailey.

14 (1986) The Smiths - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Well, it couldn't really be anything else, could it? Even though I wouldn't properly appreciate this song for a good few years, it probably had a bigger impact on my life than any other record in my collection. It made me love The Smiths and forgive Morrissey anything. Back in '86, I was listening to far more Fore!, Graceland, Slippery When Wet and A Kind Of Magic. But The Queen Is Dead became my retrospective teenage anthem. It's hard to believe I didn't love it when it first came out.

By the way, if There Is A Light... hadn't been released in 1986, it wouldn't have been replaced by any of the records above. No, this year's runner up, and the song that most reminds me of teenage school discos, is Caravan Of Love by The Housemartins. Just in case you were wondering.

Number One as I turned 14? Chain Reaction by Diana Ross (with a little help from the Bee Gees.) Now that's what I call music.

15 (1987) Prince & Sheena Easton - U Got The Look

So many records say 1987 to me, yet it's hard to pick just one that stands out above the rest. Too much choice. My two favourite albums of the year are Tunnel Of Love and Strangeways, Here We Come yet neither produced a truly iconic single. I was tempted by Barcelona, Livin' On A Prayer or Sweet Child O' Mine, but while I don't rate Sign O' The Times the album as highly as many critics (though it's title track probably does say more about 1987 than most other songs released that year), this was the single that finally made me love the little purple freak.

My birthday Number One at 15? Everything I Own, a watered down cover version of an old reggae standard by a past-his-prime Boy George. Hardly one of the year's musical highlights.

16 (1988) Morrissey - Every Day Is Like Sunday

Damn it, I really wanted to give this one to Billy Bragg and Waiting For The Great Leap Forwards, but it doesn't quite compare to trudging slowly over wet sand back to the bench where your clothes were stolen. What does?

On the day I reached the age of consent (not that anyone would consent back for a good few years), the ironic Number One was I Should Be So Lucky by Kylie Minogue, a hideous slice of SAW-ed off landfill pop. And do you want to know something even worse? I actually bought the damn thing. I must have been desperate...

17 (1989) Del Amitri - Nothing Ever Happens

The late 80s were a dire time for music, though I still managed to find plenty to keep me going. As with the best of his songs, Justin Currie's debut hit combines apathy with misanthropy in a way few other artists could or would ever attempt. For 1989, it was this or I'll Sail This Ship Alone.

Meanwhile at Number One on March 19th, Madonna reached her artistic pinnacle with Like A Prayer. IMHO.

18 (1990) The Inspiral Carpets - This Is How It Feels To Be Lonely

This is how it feels to be 18. This, November Spawned A Monster and Birdhouse In Your Soul paint a curiously accurate picture of my last year of A Levels. Happy 18th!

Meanwhile, topping the charts on my birthday? Dub Be Good To Me by Beats International. I liked him in the Housemartins, I even dug Fatboy Slim, but this one wasn't a Norman conquest for me.

19 (1991) Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band - The Fire Inside

An unusual choice for the year that brought us Smells Like Teen Spirit and Losing My Religion, but this has long been one of my favourite songs. Elvis Costello almost stole the year with The Other Side Of Summer, but in the end Bob is Number One with a Bullet Band.

And on my 19th birthday? The Stonk by Hale & Pace. Bloody hell.

20 (1992) Bruce Springsteen - Human Touch

I went with my gut on this one. Neither of the two albums Bruce released in 1992 are among anybody's favourites. There were far better records released this year - including Automatic For The People, It's A Shame About Ray and Generation Terrorists. But this track carries a kind of crushed yet hopeful romanticism that's always made it stand out for me. I guess it reminds me of being 20 more than any of the above.

My 20th Number One birthday song was Stay by Shakespeare's Sister. Morrissey gets the last word in as usual.

Back next week with the run-up to my 30th.

Movie Review: Ghost Rider - Spirit of Vengeance

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...

Like most sane moviegoers, I didn't have a great deal of time for the original Ghost Rider movie. OK, it was a stinker. So why, pray tell, did I plunk down my hard earned shekels (well, I.'s hard-earned shekels, since we went on Orange Wednesday and he took pity on my unemployed ass and gave me the GOF of his BO) on the second one? My defence goes thus...

1. I like Ghost Rider. He's one of those Marvel B-listers I've always had a soft spot for even though very few writers seem able to make him work. JM DeMatteis managed it back when I was a kid and Jason Aaron knocked it out of the park recently, but beyond that I can't think of too many other great Ghost Rider stories. The potential is there though, as I discovered while writing this week's Thoughtballoons script based on the character. There's so much can be done with this concept. Sadly, the writers of this movie (mostly David bloody Goyer, Hollywood's go-to guy for bad - and occasionally surprisingly good - superhero movies) preferred to run with a tepid combo of Hellboy, The Omen and The Fast & The Furious... and however exciting you might think that sounds: trust me, you're wrong.

2. I (used to) like Nicholas Cage. And every now and then he makes a film which shows a spark of the manic genius he displayed in Wild At Heart or Bad Lieutenant rather than just SHOUTING ALL THE TIME and ACTING REALLY BADLY. Sadly, this was not to be one of those films. Hey, Nick, if you love Ghost Rider as much as you say you do... why didn't you put some bloody effort in?

3. Idris Elba was in it. I like him a lot. He made the absolute most of an underwritten role and provided a couple of moments of blessed comic relief. Many more were needed. Meanwhile, Ciaran Hinds popped up as the devil. Another hugely talented actor... wasted.

4. The reviews told me this one was much better than the first. They lied.


On the other hand, I can't say the warning signs weren't there. I should have paid more attention to the following...


1. The directors, Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, are most famous for making dumb action movies starring Jason blinkin' Statham. Their style can best be described as "less accomplished Guy Ritchie". I hate Guy Ritchie.

2. It was only possible to watch this movie in 3D. Which is strange as Spirit of Vengeance featured the least gratuitous 3D effects of any pointlessly 3D film I've seen in recent times. In fact, other than the fact I was wearing those stupid glasses so (as usual) my eyes hurt and I couldn't focus on the whole of the screen... at no point was I aware of any 3D effects whatsoever. It was like watching a 2D movie with 3D glasses on. I'd rather have just watched it the way god intended.

3. There was a sequence in which Ghost Rider takes a leak and pisses fire. As if to suggest this might be the highlight of the movie, they even included it in the trailer. It was desperate, humourless and lacking in imagination. Actually, that was pretty representative of the movie as a whole. I take that back: it belonged in the trailer. It should have been the whole trailer. 30 seconds of Ghost Rider weeing. That would have been apt.