Order...

My journalism tutor's been banging it into me for the past two months that I have to write a snappy, concise introduction to each piece.

So there, that's my intro. Did it leap out at you? Grab at your eyeballs and reel them in like a big juicy cod? Maybe not. Shame, because I really want you to read on. This blog will just be a ramble through the idle moments of my life, with some not-so-idle moments thrown in to liven it up a bit. Now I bet you really want to read on.

Maybe I could spice it up a little. Throw in the odd spectacular death here, a couple of affairs there. Perhaps someone I know went to a brothel and got beaten up by a few Nazi stormtroopers. I don't want to delve too far into fiction though.

There are a few things I like, one being music. I'd love to start up one of those super-trendy mp3 blogs. The ones where they've got pictures of French teenagers with clothes so fluorescent they're a danger to air travel. I'll dress brightly at times, but I reckon these kids could be put in some of those sensory therapy rooms in mental hospitals (is that the right name?). They could sort Frank Bruno out, and he might give one a right hook. Win win.

However apart from the pretty colours, http://fluokids.blogspot.com/ has some pretty good music, and it's updated almost every day. Hats off to the authors, who must sieve through some pretty turgid crap before they find any gold in a pretty saturated nu-rave/electro market.

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If Nietzsche had stuck on a pair of Cheap Mondays and strolled down to the East End, I'm pretty sure he'd conclude that Rock n' Roll is dead. And we've killed it. I know this whole 80s electro trend has been chugging along for a while now. It just feels like the more traditional boys with guitars are giving up on the competition. A notable handful of exceptions aside (Arctic Monkeys, Howling Bells and the seemingly ageless Nick Cave), there just doesn't appear to be the calibre of British indie outfits there were about five years ago. Okereke's making dance music, Doherty's playing chicken with porridge and Borrell's too busy ruining film stars to care any more. I suppose Shotter's Nation did have some cracking tunes on it, but really it was just a water(man)ed-down Libs LP.

The one area of indie that does seem to be spawning like a Catholic nympho is post-punk. Post-punk in its rawest, bleakest, guise. Ipso Facto, Prinzhorn Dance School, etc etc.
Apparently The Horrors are post-punk's heroes, but apart from the monochromed gladrags I can't really see it. The Horrors are a great heavy punk band. PDS sound like they just took too much Ritalin and found some Fisher Price instruments.

As for your traditional British pop-rock acts, The Feeling and The Hoosiers are what you get if you take T4 too seriously. Actually, when I think about it I've never seen them both in the same room. Goodbye Mr Any More And I'll Stick My Head in a Blender.

To finish on a lighter note I've got one word this week: Grum. Not North Yorkshire anal sex but a Leeds/Edinburgh-based DJ twisting countless rock tunes into tasty dance nuggets. Check him out at www.myspace.com/grummmusic and you'll see what I mean, especially the remix of Kings of Leon's On Call. Mustard (it's getting in Dave).

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Anyhow, This is going on far too long now so I'll quit while I'm only a bit behind. So much to talk about, so little writing skill. I might put some interesting stuff in the next blog.