We've had at least two threads about crap band names on this blog; as far as I can recall, however, there hasn't been one on the worst names for solo artists. There may not be quite as many candidates in this category, but there are certainly a few, and one in particular springs to mind as the gold standard, the benchmark by which all other heinous handles must be judged...

His real name is Taalib Johnson, which wouldn't have been a bad name for professional use. Instead he came up with a stage name that positively reeks of hubris and self-regard, while flouting the "show don't tell" rule that was originally coined for creative writing, but has far wider applicability. So give it up, hold your sniggers for:

Musiq Soulchild

Is it the spelling of the first word that induces the biggest cringe? Or the presumption in the second? Oh, and from what I heard the "musiq" wasn't up to much either, being highly derivative and featureless modern R&B.

Beat that, Massivistas?

Amidst all the talk of great singers on this blog, I think it would be fair to say that Chaka Khan does not get mentioned very often. Well, the time has come to right this wrong. After years of not having listened to this song, which I only have on vinyl, I finally pulled my finger out and downloaded it today, and am currently listening to it for the third time in a row. The song is Some Love, from her self-titled debut solo album.

It. Is. Awesome. For a start, it's one of the funkiest grooves you could hope to tap your toe to on a Saturday afternoon in Harringay. The bridge section is one of the most thrilling I know. The playing is spectacular, the horn stabs perfect, while the bass line is jawdropping. The lyric is amazing too, although it may take a while before you notice that, as you might be standing there slack jawed at Chaka's vocal performance, which combines wanton abandon with phenomenal technical skill.

Erm, you have probably gathered by now that I quite like this record. Any other Chaka fans around?

Over Christmas, spent at my sister in law's, with her two girls spending plenty of time looking after mine, I had more free time to read than usual. I was getting stuck into We Need To Talk About Kevin. Now I think this is a truly brilliant novel; it's also, um, kinda bleak, and about as far as it's possible to be from easy, festive reading. So on Christmas day I opted for some light relief and picked Harry Potter & The Chamber of Secrets off my niece-in-law's shelf. I'd read them before, catching up with the series and then buying the last one the day it came out - and wolfing it down in a couple of days. I'd re-read the first one some time last year, and enjoyed it again.

Well I don't know exactly why, but this time round I was really hooked. I read HP2 on Christmas Day, HP3 on Boxing Day, HP4 over the next 2 or three days, and eventually got through books 2-7 in a fortnight. I'd always thought they were terrific stories, grippingly told, with memorable characters. The writing may not have qualified as Great Literature, but it was always solid and sturdy, with very few infelicities.

Reading them a second time, I was even more impressed than before at what JK Rowling has achieved. She's created a world that is completely thought through, with its own history and traditions, where its own rules are consistently adhered to, and where the questions of how one world co-exists alongside the other are all answered.

Then there's the plotting. I think in this respect Rowling is touched with genius. Reading the final book (Deathly Hallows) the first time round I was mightily impressed at how she tied up all the different strands of the story. Reading through them again, and noticing how trails are laid right from the start that will be rediscovered throughout the series, I was positively dazzled at both the prodigious imagination and the sheer bloody work she put in right at the start. The blurb on the last book states that she spent five years planning out the story arcs and writing the first book, and boy does it pay off - I just wish the makers of Lost had been that diligent!

As for the prose itself, it was less clunky second time around than I'd been expecting. It's never worse than functional, mostly a good deal better, and at times has a very elegant flow. I also think she has a very good ear for dialogue; and there is some sly humour in there, more in the early books - and even a bit of satire.

The huge cast of characters are beautifully delineated and sustained, although one major weakness is that the Slytherin pupils are rather too uniformly boo-hiss nasty. Elsewhere, though, there is light and shade in most of the characters, and some brilliant switches and twists.

One other thing: I don't feel in any way defensive about enjoying Harry Potter. Maybe I was particularly susceptible this Christmas because I needed some escapism, what with some unsavoury stuff happening in my family - but I'd have enjoyed them regardless, and would be just as enthusiastic in my admiration of JK Rowling. So can we take it as read that these books are primarily aimed at kids and move on from there? I'd like to hear from others who enjoy that immersion in another world, as well as your likes and dislikes about the books.

I generally did pretty well at school, particularly in languages, and wasn't terrible at anything. However, this does not mean that I did not mess up spectacularly on occasion. Indeed, the most memorable comment that was ever appended to any work I did was on one of those bits of homework that I dashed off rather too hurriedly. Ahem:

"Repeat this essay in full. I refuse to believe that this execrable drivel is your best work."

This comment was trumped a few years later when I was at university, by a good friend of mine called Jane; Jane was very bright, and also happened to have atrocious handwriting. After a mock exam she was mortified to receive back her paper, on which the marker had written the following at the bottom:

"If this candidate is retarded I should have been told."

Let's hear 'em!

Whatever one's own thoughts and feelings about cuddly toys, it's hard to avoid them when children are around. Some parents/aunts/uncles/godparents/etc will happily play along, others will grin and bear it (NPI). Some of us, who are part overgrown kids, will relish the chance to play with teddy bears and the like, with the children as a convenient smokescreen.

The psychological term for such toys is "transitional objects", and they are widely believed to play an important part in a young child's journey towards individuation. In addition to being fun to play with, they can provide real comfort at times of stress or sadness. And an object which has been the repository of so much love can take up a position in our affections which we can see doesn't "make sense", but then again...

Here's a picture of Teddy. I don't know exactly how old he is, but it's around 40. He's been with me most of my life. I know he's only a toy, and yet I couldn't bring myself to refer to him as "it". Anyone else care to share?

I know plenty of people for whom the idea of watching any film more than once seems odd. This post is not aimed at those people. For those of us who do like to watch films again, the basic reason why we'd do it is because we enjoyed it, one way or another, and would happily watch it again. If I think a film is genuinely great, I'll often buy the DVD and end up watching it a second, and indeed third or fourth time.

There are, however, a few films that I consider unequivocally great, but will never watch again. The best example of this is Lilya 4-Ever, by Lukas Moodysson. His previous film is one of my favourites ever, Together, a film full of heart and warmth. Lilya 4-Ever is full of righteous rage and compassion, but almost unwatchably harrowing. It tells the story of a teenaged girl in a former Soviet Bloc country, whose relatively comfortable life is turned upside down when her parents suddenly bugger off to America. After it becomes clear they're not going to send her a ticket to join them, she meets a guy who promises her love and a new life in Sweden. What he actually has in store for her is a brutal existence as a sex slave. It's a masterful film, brilliantly acted and directed; I was stunned and literally speechless after it ended. And I could never sit through it again.

Another example is Seven (or 7even, if you prefer). Dark as hell, intelligent, well played by Brad Pitt, Morgan Freeman, Kevin Spacey and Gwyneth Paltrow. But, you know, *shudder*. There are scenes where I had to avert my eyes, and one in particular that could easily have given me nightmares. I wouldn't watch it again if you paid me.

Are there any films like that, that you admired greatly but wouldn't countenance watching again?

Frasier is one of the greatest sitcoms ever. This much seems beyond dispute. Certainly, there's been a lot of praise on this blog; most of it is directed at David Hyde Pierce, Kelsey Grammer and Peri Gilpin, roughly in that order, for their superb characterisations and nano-second perfect comic timing (and in the case of Hyde Pierce, his sublime physical comedy). All this is right and proper. John Mahoney seems to be slightly behind those three. And Jane Leeves, as Daphne, lags somewhat behind him.

Now, I don't want to setting up a straw man here, but I think it would be fair to say that when most people talk about Daphne, they talk about her allegedly ropy Manchester accent. As someone who gets a nosebleed when I get farther north than Friern Barnet, I'm not qualified to comment on that. She certainly gets damned with faint praise, and seems to be generally regarded as something of a weak link in the main cast of five.

Why am I banging on about this now? Well, Mrs R and I are working our way through Series One at the moment, and most recently watched episode 14, Can't Buy Me Love. The whole episode is a peach, and for me the peak scene is "Driving Miss Daphne". Daphne is on a date with Bulldog, having put in a pity bid at a charity auction, only for hers to be the only bid. As we join them in the limo, Daphne is already three sheets to the wind. I don't think I've ever seen a funnier, more convincing drunk scene in any comedy. The writing is sublime, of course, but Jane Leeves is simply magnificent. Watching this scene has actually made me focus more on what she's doing elsewhere, and it's often very funny.

To my absolute chagrin, I can't find this scene on youtube - if anyone can, PLEASE post it in the comments. The best I could find was the script, which I'll add in the comments. Try to imagine her saying it, or better still, dig out the episode and watch it. Go Daphne!

Now there's a name I've rarely (if ever) seen mentioned around these parts. If the name doesn't mean much to you, she's an Irish singer with a gloriously rich, sensuous contralto voice, and a penchant for songs that explore the seedier side of life (her Wikipedia entry is here). Her last album, The House Of Ill Repute, did get an enthusiastic nod from David Hepworth in Word sometime last year, although it's over twenty years since her closest brush with international stardom.

I've just finished reading her autobiography, Bloody Mary, which is, as the cover quote from a review says, a cracking good read. She's had quite life, I tell you! I've seen her a few times in concert, and she's always provided generous helpings of craic. I'd probably name her first two albums (Tired & Emotional and Under The Influence) as her best, along with 1997's absolutely superb After The Fall.

Are there any other fans here?

For those interested in investigating, here's the completely brilliant Ice Cream Man. (Warning: this song may not be all about mobile purveyors of 99s and Magnum Classics).

I've gradually realised there's a little problem with my iphone: when I try to log into any websites on it (the Word blog, my work email, Amazon), nothing happens. It seems to be taking me to the next, post-log-in screen, but it isn't. Has anyone else had this blip and knows what to do about it? Is it something to do with cookies?

It seems, like rats, we can never be very far away from a comment on this blog about 80s music; most of these comments fall into one of two categories: those insisting "the 80s were crap" and those vailantly defending them, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. I've posted a comment elsewhere to the effect that, for me, the song's the thing, and that if a song is good enough, it can survive, or even prosper from, some adornment. There were no more or fewer crap song in the 80s than in any other decade; however, given the undoubted Big 80s Sound that was so prevalent then, a heavily polished turd sounded that much more ridiculous than a simple, humble dud. perhaps this explains some of the anti-80s vitriol.

Anyway, on a more general level, the term "overproduced" is widely used, and I use it quite a lot myself. So why is it that with certain records, I seem able to suspend my liking for simplicity and the strippped-down sound, and bask in multiple layers of shimmer and sheen? Let's take an example: Dr Mabuse by Propaganda. It's all here: ginormous drum crashes, great swathes of synth as far as the ear can hear, Fairlight bass stabs. I can't even say it's a great song as such - not sure it would be up to much played on just a piano or guitar. And yet I love this record dearly. From the coin sound effect at the start, through the preposterous spoken bits, to the glorious voice of Claudia Brücken, it's bloody perfect. My favourite bit is when she slips in a line in her native German, "Kein Zurück für dich" (there's no way back), with a delicious little harmony.

So, what's your favourite example of kitchen-sink production?

Help! Having thought I'd discovered I could make some CDs for the London mingle on Friday, I find it's not working to plan. I've made a playlist in itunes on the Mac, and simply pressed "burn CD". the two options are MP3 Cd or Data CD. When I chose MP3 cd, I was told that only five of the tracks could be copied to CD, as the others were not in MP3 format, and there wasn't a suggested way of converting them. So I chose Data CD, which warned me that not all of the songs would play in all players. Well that's certainly true, only five of the songs play, which is very annoying. When I put the disc back into the Mac, it seems to show all 17 tracks, though not in the order which I painstakingly worked out - and I can't tell if it's playing the actual CD, or the songs from Itunes.

Can anyone walk me through a solution? I'd love to be able to bring them to the mingle.

A couple of the Eurosport commentators were talking the other day about how'd they'd construct a mythical tennis player using those who were best at particular shots. I thought that's a fun game, and for the tennis lovers here, let's play. I've added a couple of categories (you can probably tell which ones). And I've only mentioned players I've actually seen, on telly or in real life, so no legends like Laver, Rosewall, BJK etc.

My choices are in the comments.

I've enjoyed roryks's thread hugely, except for one thing: because of its size and the number of clips, it's almost impossible for me to look at, especially on my home PC. As I know I'm not alone in this experience, I'm hoping roryks won't mind if I start a continuation thread here. It may be that the thread has run its course, we shall see.

Anyway, I'd like to throw yet another film into the overflowing bargain bin of excellence: Proof. This Australian gem stars a young Russell Crowe as a shiftless restaurant employee who befriends a blind man, played by Hugo Weaving, whose hobby is photography. I won't say any more about it, except See It. It really is wonderful.

I don't know why I'm posting this now. I saw this picture ages ago, two or three years at a guess, but it's always stuck in my mind as an exceptionally fine example of how someone trying to look really cool ends up looking, well, let me put it this way: this picture would not have to change that much to resemble that infamous Millie Jackson album cover shot that has added so much to the gaiety of nations. No matter how ludicrous one might find the whole trousers-hanging-off-arse fad, it looks a lot worse sitting down...

I love Toy Story and its sequels as much as the next person. I've seen plenty of great animated films (both CGI and "trad"), yet every now and then, when I watch a really well-made live action film, I remember how different they can be, and how refreshing.

This thought has been provoked over the last couple of days by watching Fly Away Home with my daughter, who's getting on for six. I wasn't sure how much she'd enjoy it, as it's very different from just about all the films she's seen; and right at the start, before the credits have even rolled, the main character's mother is killed in a car crash (this is sensitively handled and not graphic at all, obviously). The main selling point was that there are a lot of baby geese in the film.

Anyway, she absolutely loved it - and so did I and Mrs R. I'd seen it before, but had forgotten what a beautiful, touching and uplifting film it is. Synopsis: 13 year old daughter (Anna Paquin) of divorced parents has to move from New Zealand after her mother's death back to her birthplace in Ontario, to live with her father (Jeff Daniels). Her sadness and difficulty adjusting are relieved by finding a batch of unattended goose eggs, which she hatches. The comes the big question: what to do when they learn to fly...

I can't recommend this film highly enough. And now I'm wondering if there are any other films in this sort of category that the Massive could recommend.