... that I mentioned in Home Service seems to have collapsed under the weight of people (including me) trying to fill their iPods with Lee Morse and her Bluegrass Boys tracks. If anyone sees it up again - or mirrored somewhere - let us know!
EDIT: News and torrent here.

Jack Nicholson goes green. In 1978... The female newscaster has the most incredible accent - she really chews through her lines. Any idea where it originates?

I received the following poem as an email this morning. The sender - OK, I realise there probably isn't a real sender - is "BradleysyllableDixon@mackinac.com". He doesn't exist on the internet. Neither does "Jesus Kennedy", the name that appeared in my Inbox. I like to think it's a real poem sent to me by a real person. As it stands, I think it's a fine piece of work. It's entitled "Rout Chert" (which also doesn't exist on the intrasquizz)..

ROUT CHERT
by Jesus Kennedy

Naked naked laureate
laughlin podge ain't stinkpot,
camelopard gorse.
vet combatted gorse podge irving excelling,
gorse naked moldboard contention yelp excelling.
lobar moldboard

/ENDS/

Pretty good, no ("laughlin podge ain't stinkpot" is a great line)? Can you beat that?

Killer Mike And Ice Cube Pressure: I think it's safe to say you'll never see this on TV...

Dawn Landes and the WST Bluegrass Band do Peter, Bjorn & John's Young Folks. What's not to like?

I've been listening to a lot of AC/DC recently. Here's the newsflash, I don't think they've ever made a bad record, certainly not between 1975 and 1982 anyway, and 10 albums is enough for anyone, right? So this morning I was listening to Highway To Hell for the first time in, at least, 22 years and I discovered a few things, namely:
A) It's really good, not a duff track on it, brilliant choruses, extremely melodic, very funky.
B) Love Hungry Man is, in all honesty, a disco track. The guitars are a (wonderful) distraction - just check the metronomic pulse of Phil Rudd's drums and Cliff Williams' startlingly groovy bassline.

I tell you what, a decent edit of this and it's dancefloor smash o'clock. It is!

The iPod threw up a treat on the 8:05 this morning, namely Best I Can from Rush's 1975 ker-lassic, Fly By Night. Now, Rush are many things, as we've discussed here before, but sassy, street-walking, hip-swinging, gum-chewing lady-killers - Aerosmith with a debilitating maple syrup habit - they most assuredly are not. However, on this track they give it a go and it's sort of disastrous and sort of brilliant, ie, my absolutely favourite type of pop record. So they shimmy and shake and it's all very Ziggy Stardust, but then they get to the chorus and just can't help letting themselves down, to whit:

You can tell me that I got no class
Look around, you'll see who's laughin' last
Don't give me speeches 'cos they're oh so drôle
Leave me alone, let me rock and roll

Has anyone other than Rush ever attempted to convey their innate rockness , their nose-thumbing abandon and reckless sexual mores by rhyming "drôle" with "rock and roll"? Are there, perhaps other examples of people who are clearly too clever to be writing rock and roll songs revealing themselves through their lyrics?

I've just been sent an email about a music festival in Zagreb. Hot Chip are playing. "That's nice," I thought. Then I scanned down the list and discovered that not only are KIRIL DŽAJKOVSKI and VJEŠTICE appearing - no, me neither - but so is Erotic Biljan & His Heretics. Erotic Biljan... Is there a name that suggests the heady delights of eroticism any less than Biljan?

"Hey Bilj - how erotic are you feeling today?"
"Not terribly..."
"No, me neither mate, me neither."

This child can't be older than 2. I think it's safe to say he's not spent much time in the Dingle. And yet, there he is, having a crack at an ancient - ancient Beatles tune while still young enough to be wearing a nappy. I can't decide whether this is the greatest thing I've ever seen (today only edition), or, more worryingly, a clear and direct sign that the world is a more demonstrably dangerous and illogical place than we may have at first thought...

About four years ago I went to San Francisco to interview The Killers. They were nice and all that, but what was really great was visiting Grace Cathedral having spent the previous ten years listening to this. I plonked on my headphones - clunky 40gb fridge-white iPod, happy days! - and trudged up California St playing the song over and over again. By the time I got to the entrance, I was so over-excited I nearly wept. I went inside, bought a t-shirt and some cards and a calendar and, even, some rather nice Christmas tree ornaments (well, it was September). The only downside was I couldn't find the actual park, but there was a small, grassy square I took some pictures in. I still feel good about the whole experience now, to be honest.

Have you ever made a pilgrimage to a specific rock monument? What happened? Was it as good as you hoped it would be?

I am a Rob, a Robert. I am not a Bob, though I have been called Bert, even Bobby on a few occassions. As Archie Valparaiso mentioned down there, Bob, Bert and Bobby are all eminently greater pop names than Rob. The brilliant Bob Andy (I'd recommend his Dub Book to Retropath), Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Bob Weir, Bob Berg, even Bobby "Blue" Bland and Bobby Darin and Bobby Digital. Bob - and the variations thereof - is the sort of name sported by legendary, visionary musicians working in reggae, jazz, soul, pop, folk, hip hop and rock. What does Rob have? Rob Halford and Rob Zombie. So, that's mouth-breathing, pantomime metal covered then. There's Robert Smith (a spot of rare greatness there) and Robert Cray (snoozesome) and gospel ledge Robert Blair (you'll recall his Julius Cheeks-like falsetto shouting and raving, I'm sure), but that's pretty much it.

The last Bob in the UK Charts was Bob The Builder and even that was seven years ago. Where have all the Bobs gone? And when will the rebirth begin?

EDIT: Oh, and Rob Thomas who's even worse than Rob Halford or Rob Zombie and Robert Plant who's quite good if you like that kind of thing.

Is that the most torturous pun ever? Possibly. But I offer it up because I am drowning under the weight of terrible, career-stalling band names and I'm hoping that someone, somewhere might take notice and stop the madness!

The Evidence:
It Hugs Back: Just say it once or twice. It's not good, is it? New single's great, but I had to over enunciate it three times just so other people in the office knew who they were listening to.

Ben's Brother: Possibly the worst name of all time. I've not listened to a single BB record that's ever landed on my desk in protest.

Does It Offend You, Yeah?: Yes, yes it does. At least as much if you'd called yourselves Have We Got A Video? or We've Come On Holiday By Mistake!

Fuck Buttons: Fuck Buttons! Oh Jesus...

Big Linda: Actually, I take it all back about Ben's Brother, compared to this abomination, their name's up there with Grateful Dead, Slowdive or Rolling Stones.

Is there a band currently treading the nation's boards that has a less likable name than Big Linda? Who? Share it and you shall be set free...

I visited a Salvation Army charity sale on Saturday morning. The vinyl and books on offer were a bit rubbish, so, determined not to leave empty handed, I flicked through the tapes. Yes, tapes. I know. Anyway, the nice lady said I could have five for a pound, so I got Sgt Pepper's, a couple of spoken word things, a Pete & Dud oddity (sponsored by PG Tips) and Hotel California. I'd never owned an Eagles album before and it seemed worth 20p, so Eagles it was. Frankly, Sgt Pepper's was a bit unlistenable, so I proceeded to play The Eagles in the car all weekend. Now, even a cursory listen will tell you Hotel California not all good. New Kid In Town is a huge drop off from the title track and Victim Of Love is a trifle lame, but Life In The Fast Lane and The Last Resort are great. I even quite like Pretty Maids All In A Row. It does go to show how one amazing track can / could sell records - 16 million and change in this case. One of the biggest surprises for me was hearing how much they were clearly designed to be the cheesecloth 'n' worn denim Beatles. But you couldn't love them could you? Maybe it was all the nose-bag, but it's all a bit cold...

What "classic" album have you come to late? What did you make of it?

This morning I heard on the Today programme a French journalist - a lady one too, imagine! - talking about Sarkozy, Bruni and the way the French media deal with such affairs. During the discussion, she likened the relationship to the Queen leaving the Duke Of Edinburgh and taking up with "Mick Zhay-ger". I haven't been able to stop saying Zhayger ever since. Is this normal procedure across the channel? Whatever next? Keith "The Cardinal" Richelieu?

I've been revisiting Maxïmo Park's Our Velocity single from last year a lot recently. I've also spent a fair amount of time with Maceo Parker's Soul Of A Blackman and they both have bits that I cannot resist either (privately, in the car) singing along to - possibly while banging the steering wheel - or (publicly, on the train / in the office) discreetly mouthing the words to. I try, but I fail, every time.

So, when Paul Smith sings, "let me tell you some more about, (pause) ME!" I'm right there with him, when James Brown suggests that right now might be a good time for Maceo P to "bring that, bring that, funky lickin' stick..." I find myself helping him out, even though, to be honest, I'm not really sure what a funky lickin' stick actually is.

I had an incident in the barber's with a Blondie record the other day too, but I'd like to draw a veil over that, if at all possible. Anyway, the question remains, who - or what - can't you resist joining in with, whatever the cost to yourself?