your best of and worst of 2011 selections would've been worthy of the daily heil. did the riots spoil your islington dinner parties or something, did the assassinations of gaddafi and bin laden make you chuckle over your iphones, suppose you'll be right behind the olympics and the jubilee and war on iran eh, (question mark key is fucked) - in a year when the 'west' by which we mean the super rich global financiers and their pals in the pentagon have attempted to grab what's left of the world's oil reserves under a pretext of democratic liberation the worst you can come up with a few opportunist working class types ragging the local footlocker -(getta) grip!(on yourself)

In memory of col gaddfi - the latest 'oil rich tyrant' to be executed by our glorious NATO freedom fighters

Col Tom Parker
Col Abrams
Col blink the shortsighted gink
Col Sanders
Col anthony hogan (LFC hooly legend)

The RNA disco was one of our favourite haunts because the dj would play 'punk' and when I say punk I don't mean Gen X or even the Pistols or any of that lightweight 'pop' I mean this kind of stuff...to which we would form a massive circle in our zip pants and do 'the kill' which funnily enough never got us any chick action and why a few years later I was dancing to rick james instead - when all's said and done 'what do I get?' said a million times more about the motivations of yer average punk than Anarchy.

done to death this i know but worth watching one more time if only to demonstrate how soon we forget the joys of tory/republican rule - the ashcrofts have come back to roost

and ofcourse the inspiration for the episode of the simpsons when marge becomes an estate agent and sells the house of horrors to flanders 'look daddy i'm a torso!'

Mercury Dev
Seasick Steve McDonald
Bonnie Prince Billy Mitchell
De La Sally Webster
The Gail Platters
Dr Ian Bealegood

the sex pistols
joy division
genesis
pink floyd
ac/dc

i've been stood here for days now staring at the telly waiting for a moronic cockney stereotype to appear but maybe it's all just a load of cobblers. can a lifeform as dumb and ridiculous as danny dyer truly exist somewhere in the depths of the universe or is the whole thing an elaborate hoax created by commissioning editors to persuade us that cockneys are all as thick and gullible as ray winstone? hang on, what's that? a knobhead in a shite polo top ostentiously smoking a bifter muttering gibberish about aliens. it's true! danny dyer does exist, i've seen him, on the telly!!

the new DFS theme got me thnking of where i know that chorus from, then it hit me...compare and contrast:

noisettes 'never forget you'

padded cell - mr misery

some tracks have boss intros (papa was a rolling stone for example)and some have boss outros (mr blue sky for example)but few have both -this is a tune that has both is also boss is the middle to boot

Methinks Heppo (as his pals call him) was a tad harsh on Rod The Plod - granted his career from the Atlantic Crossing era was geared towards a MOR lowest common denominator market but his early solo material and Faces performances were perhaps some of the greatest 'blue eyed boogie' of all time - OK Rod went for the easy buck and now churns out predictable gush but then so did Mccartney and Stevie and countless other so-called 'icons' - here he is in his raw soul prime (only eric burdon could match him in the UK)

I wasn't sure whether film versions of C-Mc's novels are ever going to be succesful after All The pretty Horses and No Country For Old Men but almost a year after it was due to be released, The Road actually looks like it'll do justice to the book. It got a 4 star review in Friday's Guardian after a screening at the venice film festival and from this clip seems to have got the tone just right....as with all Mccarthy's books the familiar themes of sons and fathers (or substitute fathers) the futility of morality in the absence of laws, manmade or otherwise and the ultimate fate of man in a Godless universe re-appear here in pssibly his final and perhaps most philosophical novel although I'm re-reading Blood Meridian again and that's his masterpiece -they really should try a film of that but give it to someone like lynch to direct.

With Red Riding thankfully reminding us that the 70s wasn't all loveable racist/sexist cops in ludicrous collars, this film haunted me for years after watching it as a kid.

By far the best thing Connery has done, this is the story of an angry disillusioned cop beating a confession from a suspected paedophile and in doing so confronting his own demons - superb direction from Lumet (in this clip he obviously owes a debt to Roeg and perhaps inspired Scorsese's Tax Driver - the eerie score set against the rain soaked windscreen?)- a classic film with a very dark theme with great performances from Connery and Ian Bannen as the 'nonce' - pity we've been reduced to Life On Mars and Heartbeat these days.

is this the height of up your own arse pomposity? ok, perhaps you could argue that selecting a load of musicians to play at meltdown could be loosely (very loosely) described as 'curating' but 'curating a compilation?' I think jarvis cocker began this trend with his 'the trip' comp a few year sback and while I agree that it's a splendid selection of tracks, how much 'curating' went into the decision making process? I know the word provides a veneer of academic respectability but let's face it, all Jarv and his pal did was shuffle through their records/ipods and pass a list to family for consideration/clearance. worringly, it now appears that more people are jumping on the 'curator' bandwagon, curating festivals, gigs, press releases and trips to aldi for ten bob bananas. call me cynical, but that's not what I call 'curating.'

www.saganakinightmare.blogspot.com/

a new blog what i did - hope youz like lids

TV Eye - Tees St Isn't Working

Things were grim up north in the 80s. In Birkenhead, they were even grimmer. This no doubt well intentioned attack on the results of Thatcherism appears to have been made by Tory Central office; Vince Baker sellng his fishing rod to pay for cigarettes? Mick Searson, the oldest 42 year old doley in town? The Brothers McGregor selling 'china, glass ware, fancy goods!' from their ill-devised market stall operation. Fancy Goods? What pray passes for 'fancy' down on Birky market?

Whilst 'Me and Mr Sanchez' correctly ridiculed in this month's Worst Of One Hit Wonders for the blag bossa pseudo-salsa abomination it was (one step up - or down? - from modern romance?)BRALT (as we called em in Runcorn) had another far better hit with the brilliant 'klactoveesedstein' - altogether now 'mm-mm-aah, mm-mm-mm-mm-aah" plus mark riley and chris sullivan were two of the best dancers you will ever see.