Hello Barbara? This is Shirley. You remember when we had that little woman to woman talk? Well girl, I see you're still having trouble with your love life, huh?

Item 57. Shirley Brown - I Don't Play That (1985)

It seems that Shirley can maintain her dignified silence no longer. She's back on the party line, spelling out the moral of this sorry tale in no uncertain terms. The moral being: if you know what's good for you, then you really don't want to be messing with Shirley.

Update: Sorry - you weren't quick enough. These MP3s are no longer on my server. I generally make them available for a week or so (sometimes less) before substituting them for new ones. Better luck next time!

More stripes, more Paul Smith. Yes, that makes three stripey Paul Smith shirts so far. Not that I'm obsessed, or anything.

Paul Smith started his business off in Nottingham, of course - so one does feel a certain loyalty. In fact, the first ever Paul Smith shop is still going strong in the same premises, some 30 years after opening, and his design/manufacturing headquarters is still located here as well. "Classics with a twist", that's his gig - and he does it so well.

So...since I didn't run out of shirts yesterday, this means we have our first casualty in the sweepstakes. Vicky, would you step forward please. You've been a great contestant - but I'm sorry to tell you that, as of now, you are officially Off The Project. Goodbye.

Do remember when I said: she's got the papers, and I've got the man? Well, the man that she had, that I took from her, is not the man child that we thought he was at all...

Item 56. Barbara Mason - Another Man (1984)

In which Barbara gets a little taste of karmic justice, as the eternal triangle becomes a quadrilateral. Girlfriend, you shoulda seen this one coming...

Update: Sorry - you weren't quick enough. These MP3s are no longer on my server. I generally make them available for a week or so (sometimes less) before substituting them for new ones. Better luck next time!

Possibly my poshest shirt, in an "old school" kinda way. It was made by Stephens Brothers, whose label boasts not one but two "by royal appointment" crests (Phil and Charlie, to be exact).

A shirt fit for a duke, then. Or a prince. Or a...

No, I'm not going to say it. Too corny. I have standards.

The story that I am about to tell is very true. You see, only the names have been changed to protect me and you...
(...meaning that for "Betty" in this song, read "Shirley" instead.)

Item 55. Barbara Mason - She's Got Papers, But I Got The Man (1981)

It's time for Barbara to have her say - and she's ain't apologising. Far from it...

Update: Sorry - you weren't quick enough. These MP3s are no longer on my server. I generally make them available for a week or so (sometimes less) before substituting them for new ones. Better luck next time!

Thanks to Dave for pointing this amazing article out to me. (Note: you might find that it reads better if you take a look at this article first. And don't worry about the astrology stuff - it's not important.)

I should warn you though: this stuff is very, very sexually explicit. But painfully honest, and very funny in places...and kind of useful, actually.

Some days, I get Happy Hangovers, causing my synapses to be fuzzed in the most delightful way. During these, my brain will start bubbling over with all sorts of fresh new thoughts, and words which ache to be written down.

Other days, I just get Stupid Hangovers. And today's is definitely, definitely a Stupid Hangover.

There's also one other key aspect to all hangovers, be they happy or stupid. It's something which we call The Hangover Horn. But we won't go into all of that just now, thank you.

And do you know what? It's now 17:30, and the only words I have spoken all day are these: I'll have these to eat in please, and a large latte. I'll be so glad when K gets back from Lyon this evening.

Mind you, the hangover will probably have kicked into its inevitable Tired And Crabby phase by then. Oh dear. Poor K. He'll be sitting on that plane right now, no doubt filled with fond anticipation of our cosy evening ahead. Little does he know what awaits him. Best get some videos lined up, then; they should shut me up nicely.

Oh great! On BBC One at 9pm tonight - a whole hour's worth of pissed-up twats brawling in Nottingham city centre. Wonder if I'll see anyone I know?

Paul Smith stripes, in gold, brown and blue. But subtle, mind. You'll just have to mentally paint them in.

Betting has now closed. The final sweepstake looks like this:

Hello? May I speak to Barbara? Barbara, this is Shirley...

Item 54. Shirley Brown - Woman To Woman (1974)

Over the next four days, I'll be posting a sequence of songs which, when taken together, form something of a soul soap opera.

Our story starts as Shirley picks up the phone to confront Barbara - woman to woman.

Now read on...

Update: Sorry - you weren't quick enough. These MP3s are no longer on my server. I generally make them available for a week or so (sometimes less) before substituting them for new ones. Better luck next time!

It's a fad m*me! It's a m*me! I've started a m*me! Er, possibly!

On You Say Tomato: a chance to win one of Junio's T-shirts, by guessing when she runs out of bull's testicles. That's right. You heard.

To the poor Googler who must have ended up on this site about half a dozen times in the past day or so, wanting to know which Stevie Wonder song has just been covered by the Blind Boys Of Alabama on their most recent album, the answer is: Higher Ground. And a very good version it is too. In fact, it's so good that they ended up naming the album after it.

I do try to be helpful.

Update: Compare and contrast what follows with a review of the same concert in the Nottingham Evening Post.

The ticket says 7:30, and there is no mention of a support act, so I get to the Royal Concert Hall at 7:20, just in time to grab a quick beer before the show.

Two beers, one appalling support act (I lasted two numbers) and an hour and forty minutes later, I am finally joined by Dymbel and Dymbellina (who knew the score – apparently there’s an unpublicised “stage door” number which you can ring for exact show times), just in time for Bryan Ferry to hit the stage at 9:00. (And to be fair to D&D, they did ring to let me know, but I had already left the house.)

By this time, with nothing to do all evening but stand around and stare, my boredom has converted into full-blown misanthropy. This isn’t the same crowd which showed up for that fantastic Roxy Music reunion gig at the Arena last year. The Roxy crowd was cool – whereas this lot are as dull as they come. Semi-detached suburban straightsville, maaaaan. Deputy head teachers and middle ranking police officers, the lot of ‘em. I have never seen so many black and silver lurex cardigans and neatly pressed chinos in one place before. It’s not exactly very rock and roll.

However, as one of the youngest people there, it does mean that I get to reprise my sneery, sulky neurotic adolescent outsider act, for the first time in a good long while. I particularly enjoy eavesdropping on the Les McQueen character behind me, with the booming, over-excitable voice.

“Cliff Richard? He was great in the seventies, wasn’t he? We Don’t Talk Anymore? Remember that one? Oh yes. Classic track. I remember the first time I ever heard it, on the radio. Now, everyone else was thinking: Cliff Richard? He’s past it! Hasn’t had a number one in years! But I’ll tell you what – first time I ever heard it, I says to myself: that record is a future Number One. And it was! Anyone remember Devil Woman?”

“Mind you, I do like some of the new stuff as well. Oh yes. Quite good, some of it. I hear it when my lad brings it home. Then he gets to hear some of my old stuff. And I’ll tell you what – he quite likes some of my old stuff, and all! So, I get to hear the new stuff through him, and he gets to hear the old stuff through me. Because it all has its place, you know. Oh yes.”

“Of course, I were in a band and all: Crème Brulee. You might have heard of us. Eurovision, 1981? Heats? As I says to Jay Aston…”

Bryan Ferry, then. If I must. At first, I thought the problem was with me – bored and fed up and misanthropic, and well past my earlier mood of excited anticipation. However - especially after Dymbel started dropping the occasional acid comment in my ear between songs - I came to realise that the problem lay entirely with boring Bryan and his equally boring band, as they plodded half-heartedly from dull solo album track to dull solo album track.

Essentially, there were two key elements missing from the lacklustre, "just another day at the office" performance: passion, and hits. In fact, hits would really have helped quite a lot. As it was, we got Tokyo Joe after the first half hour or so, Slave To Love about half an hour after that, then a little flurry towards the end: Do The Strand (as good as a hit), Love Is The Drug, Jealous Guy, Let’s Stick Together. Oh, and Smoke Gets In Your Eyes wafted in somewhere along the line. In between times, we got too many cover versions (including two by Bob Dylan), and a whole load of instrumental padding – including about five minutes’ worth of elevator music while Bryan changed his suit. The whole set lasted a bare 90 minutes (including encores) – scant value for our £27.50 tickets. The previous week’s Beth Orton concert started to look quite good in comparison. In fact, I almost began to feel nostalgic for it.

Bewilderingly, most of the audience were ecstatic by the end of the show. Bopping away like mad things, they were. I honestly didn’t think they had it in them. Do they not get much excitement in their lives these days? Meanwhile, the three of us left the concert feeling a little bit let down, a little bit ripped off, and a little bit pissed off – mainly because we all know that Bryan Ferry is capable of delivering much, much more.

The second ALL SAINTS shirt, with another fun-sized jumbo collar. In fact, this shirt is so much fun that, as you can see, I have almost cracked a smile.

Dymbellina to me in the pub last night, as we sat trying to recover our mental faculties from the spirit sapping tedium that was Bryan Ferry in concert: "I love it when you apologise to your readers, because you've actually got some work to do."

Well, yes. As it happens, I do have a bit of work to do today. A change being as good as a rest, I guess. Still, this hasn't stopped me from prowling round other people's comment boxes in odd spare moments. Amongst today's topics: the growing hipness of Radio Two, the early days of Take That, and Sheela-na-gigs (you're on your own with that last one). Not to mention the interesting discussion which has sprung up in the comments box below this one.

In other news (and I swore I'd never use that expression again), it is a considerable relief to hear that our good friends Interob and Acious are still very much alive and kicking, out in Bali where they are currently holidaying. They heard the explosion loud and clear, but were three miles away at the time. I didn't really imagine that they would have been nightclubbing at the time, and Bali is a big place of course - but all the same, this came as welcome news.

He's gay. He lives in London. He goes to Sports & Shorts, Duckie, and the pop quiz nights at the Retro Bar. And he's started a blog. And he's listed his 500 favourite albums, including absolutely loads of arty/electronic-ish ones from the 1980s. Of which I own 132 (if you include the ones I've got on tape).

This is getting ridiculous. I swear that these people are breeding.

Update: This has given rise to an interesting little discussion - so check the comments for more juice on "why gay bloggers link to each other all the time". But be warned - wild generalisations lie ahead. Sometimes, they are the only way to make a valid point...

No, I don't have two right nipples - it's just the way the fabric is hanging. Okay?



Today, Michael has once again plumped for the ever popular "business casual" look, with this attractively restrained offering in soft pastel checks (baby pink, powder blue and chalk white). Michael has chosen his shirt from the "Fraser" range, which offers tailored elegance for the more budget conscious shopper. The range is exclusive to House Of Fraser stores across the country.

I actually picked this up cheap in Arse Of Frasier a couple of years ago, in back those dark days when I still had to wear full Business Drag to work. It still gets worn quite a lot these days, as it looks perfectly OK without a tie, and is a doddle to iron. Yup, it's another "bugger it, you'll do for work" shirt.

6. The Boat Club
Trentside, West Bridgford, NG2 5FA

Years and years and years ago, the Boat Club hosted loads of gigs, particularly of the punk/new wave/post-punk variety. Or so I’m told – it was before even my time. Then, for twenty years or so, no bands played at all, as the venue reverted to being a boat club pure and simple (it’s beside the river Trent, between Trent Bridge and the Nottingham Forest ground, where all the rowers hang out).

However, the last couple of years have seen the premises reborn as an occasional venue for rock gigs, mainly due to the efforts of the musically adventurous and extremely wonderful Night With No Name. And what do you know? As a venue for live music, it works perfectly. Basic and unpretentious, and agreeably shabby, and a bit sweaty round the edges, with a good acoustic and a nice high stage (meaning that shorter people can enjoy the bands as well). The beer also is quite astonishingly cheap, with the pumps manned by terribly nice, polite rowing types who aren’t much used to this rasping rock and roll malarkey. It’s also amusing to register the expressions on the faces of the bands, as they realise that yes, they really are playing at a boat club.

7. Broadway Cinema
Broad Street, NG1 3AL
(official site)

For many years now, the received wisdom about Broadway (formerly the Nottingham Film Theatre) has been that “it’s the biggest independent cinema outside London.” Whether this is in size or in turnover, I couldn’t say. However, Broadway remains a highly successful and much loved Nottingham institution, which has survived even the recent opening of the gigantic, super-slick Warner Village complex just a few blocks away.

The key to its success? A sharp, spot-on booking policy, with all the latest must-see art-house flicks screened soon after their release (I must have seen just about every Almodovar film ever made in that place). A great building, full of character, with something of a “cinema club” feel to it; there’s a tangible sense of “belonging” about its audience of loyal regulars. Plus there’s a civilised café-bar, mercifully wanker-free even at weekends, with decent Belgian beers on tap, and changing exhibitions on the walls.

Finally, I will always love Broadway because we hired it as part of our tenth anniversary celebrations, for a special screening of Breakfast At Tiffany’s. Ah, memories.

8. Bunker’s Hill
36-38 Hockley Nottingham NG1 1FP
(link 1) (link 2)

Down at the very bottom of Hockley, next door to the Ice Stadium, the Bunker’s Hill is a real ale drinker’s paradise, with a vast and ever-changing selection, and a Proper Pub of the old school, popular with an easy-going thirtysomething and fortysomething crowd. This is slightly at odds with the room on the first floor, where incredibly obscure bands regularly play (including the awesome Pansy Division, three or four years ago). They really ought to do something about those lurid green walls, though.

9. Canalhouse Bar & Restaurant
48-52 Canal St Nottingham
(link)

Down by the canalside, on the way to the railway station, there has been a massive redevelopment in the last few years, with most of the old buildings razed to the ground and shiny new ones erected in their place. The whole area has been a huge success, with all of its bars noisily packed to the rafters every weekend with hordes of affluent twentysomething punters. Which is all well and good, but not my scene at all.

The one exception is the Canalhouse, situated in the old Canal Museum, with an inlet from the canal reaching right into the middle of the large indoor bar area. There’s decent beer, a proper pub atmosphere, more space to manoeuvre, and a more laidback, less hysterical clientele. The waterfront seating area is a great place to hang out on a warm afternoon or evening, and there’s also a smartish restaurant upstairs (variable, but generally high standard if a little over-priced).

10. Canopy
14 Flying Horse Walk Nottingham NG1 2HN
(official site)

A luggage queen’s paradise. Luggage galore! Bags and bags of beautiful bags! Suitcases to swoon over! Luxury leather goods to die for! And the politest, most helpful, most knowledgeable staff of any shop in town. Ooh, the boyfriend and I love Canopy all right…

Jump to next section.

Labels: mynottingham

Starsailor – All Or Nothing
Honest-to-goodness, no-messing, straightforward cover version which rocks out a lot more than I’m used to hearing from mopey old Starsailor. The track also suits James Walsh’s, um, “distinctive” vocal style rather well. Makes me think that Starsailor should rock out a little more often. 7/10

Feeder – The Power Of Love
That’s Frankie Goes To Hollywood, not Jennifer Rush. Feeder have never particularly rocked my world – there’s something perpetually also-rannish about them – and this is no exception. In particular, the strained, weedy vocals just aren’t up to the job. This fantastic song demands to be properly sung, not merely recited. As it is, a moving pop classic becomes a second division mid-tempo soft-rock plodder. 4/10

Sugababes – Killer
Whoever it is that is pulling the Sugababes’ strings behind the scenes: you’re doing a grand job. This is a deliciously sinuous update which doesn’t bugger around too much with the original. Well sung, with just the right combination of soulful involvement and glacial remove. They have also retained that cute little toy-town rave piano break, thank goodness. 8.5/10

Muse – House Of The Rising Sun
One of my least favourite bands tackles one of my least favourite songs, and the result is….actually much better than one might think. The track is propelled along with crunchy, droning wall-of-sound guitars, overdubbed to buggery, and some almost Prodigy-esque synth screeches. Scabrously effective. 7/10

Stereophonics – Nothing Compares 2 U
God, they’re always so earnest, aren’t they? Kelly Jones is sounding particularly frightful on this outing, with a truly annoying sandpaper rasp. I think he’s aiming for a blend of Rod Stewart and Joe Cocker. He fails. The backing is a perfunctory acoustic strum, which could be bettered by most city centre buskers. No, I don’t like it much. 2/10

Faithless & Dido – Dub Be Good To Me
Plus point: the slinky “Guns Of Brixton” bassline is retained. Minus point: Maxi Jazz has come up with his own rap. Much as I used to love his stuff, he really does seem to have run out of ideas now. The overall sound is much as you’d expect: dubby, spacey trip-hop. Dear old Dido makes a creditable replacement for Lindy Layton. A reasonable job, then; proficiently executed but far from essential listening. 6/10

Oasis – Merry Xmas Everybody
Erm, this is Noel right? I’ve always liked Noel’s vocals – every bit as good as Liam’s, in their own way. This has a nicely subdued, minor-key acoustic vibe to it – more “Half A World Away” than their previous Slade cover (“Cum On Feel The Noize”). It works, and breathes new life into a tired but much loved old favourite. 8/10

Elbow – Something In The Air
Goodness, what a curious arrangement. Brooding, slightly menacing, a little bit low-fi. Elbow have attempted a fairly dramatic re-interpretation of the song’s mood, without unnecessarily buggering around with the lovely melody of the original. Builds nicely, with some wailing gospel backing vocals. File under: artistically valid. 8/10

The Reelists featuring Ms Dynamite – Back To Life (However Do You Want Me)
Interestingly sparse modern R&B arrangement, coupled with vocals that are maybe just a little bit too respectful to the original. Enjoyably moody, if slightly pointless. 7/10

Manic Street Preachers – Out Of Time.
Good to hear the string arrangement from Chris Farlowe’s original lifted wholesale, and then expanded upon as the track progresses. Actually, this is great. There’s a period sixties feel which has been updated in a glorious, soaring, feel-good fashion. Light on guitars, heavy on orchestration, with some splendidly crashing drum work and some Beach Boys style backing vocals. Yup, I love this. Who would have thought that the dreary old Manics still had it in them? 9/10

Badly Drawn Boy featuring Jools Holland & his Rhythm & Blues Orchestra – Come On Eileen
The slick, full backing exposes Mr Badly’s vocal limitations, and the whole thing sounds like it belongs on one of Jools Holland’s “Hootenanny” specials. This was probably a load of fun to record, and it would probably be great to hear live, but – oh, I don’t know – it’s all a bit too cheerily good-natured for me, and as such, completely emotionally unaffecting. Slick but soulless. 5/10

Prodigy – Ghost Town
In some ways, this is so faithful to the original that it sounds like a straight re-make. Particularly the brass, and the organ, and the rhythm. Oh, that’s almost everything, isn’t it? On the other hand, there are some squelchy electronic noises which have definitely never been there before. No vocals either, barring the occasional very faint vocodered mumble. Hots up quite effectively after three minutes or so, as the track becomes less Specials and more Prodigy – but then loses all its momentum with the breakdown. I was expecting – and would have liked - a less respectful, more “out there” treatment. 6/10

Jimmy Eat World – Firestarter
And speaking of the Prodigy… This is the most radical re-interpretation yet, as “Firestarter” turns into a brooding, dead slow piece of what snarky music critics sometimes term “flu-rock” (think Elbow, or Starsailor, or maybe Coldplay). The effect is to turn the braggadocio of the original into something rather forlorn, tragic, almost regretful. Which is an interesting thing to do. Not sure how much I personally like it, mind you – I have limited patience with these kinds of overblown plodders, and the track goes on for much too long. 7/10 none the less, if only just.

Darius – Pretty Flamingo
Delicately chiming acoustic intro, before Darius comes in, slightly exposed, rough-but-tender, and sweetly, yearningly vulnerable. Crikey, he’s doing a really good job with it. Understated yet undeniably soulful, and sung in a slightly higher register than we are used to from him. Quality pop-rock. No, honestly, trust me. Ok, the ad-libbing at the end is un peu de trop, but that’s about the only bad thing I can say about it. 8/10

More Fire Crew featuring Gabrielle – Dreams
Booyaka-shah! Clattering UK garage, with a brand new vocal from the rapping MCs, interspersed with fragments of Gabrielle’s original chorus (I think she’s gone back into the studio to provide these, but I’m not certain). To be honest, it sounds like an entirely separate piece of music, with a bit of sampling stuck on top of it. Nothing wrong with that I guess, and I do like a bit of UK grudge from time to time. Still, this ain’t no great shakes. 6/10

McAlmont & Butler – Back For Good
Come on – you knew this had to be great, right? Top singer, top musician, top song. The cover is respectful but distinctive, retaining the mood of the original but beefing up the arrangement with a full, cinematic, sound. Soaring strings, mixed way in the background. Yowling guitar, working as a nice counterpoint to what might otherwise have become too syrupy. David McAlmont is as deliciously passionate as ever, and therefore knocks spots off Garr-eh Barlow’s original interpretation. 9/10

The final reckoning?
Great.
1. Manic Street Preachers
2. McAlmont & Butler
3. Sugababes
Good.
4. Darius
5. Elbow
6. Oasis
7. Muse
8. Starsailor
OK.
9. Reelists/Ms Dynamite
10. Jimmy Eat World
11. Prodigy
12. More Fire Crew/Gabrielle
13. Faithless/Dido
Poor.
14. Badly Drawn Boy/Jools Holland
15. Feeder
Crap.
16. Stereophonics

Update: Go to the comments box for some revised views (and a new chart!), now that I've been playing the album all week.

Paul Smith, pink with a faint white check, bought in a hurry last year before going on holiday to Turkey. Not one of my favourites, but for some reason I still seem to wear it quite a lot. I think this is because it has that certain nondescript "bugger it, you'll do for work" quality. You can actually see that I look a bit fed up wearing it, can't you?

A lovely multi-coloured Etro creation, bought to wear on the occasion of my 40th birthday party in February. One of my absolute favourites. Ooh, pretty colours!

A few days ago, Simon Minor 9th commented that my expressions were all identical, and could we have some Comedy Faces, please?. However, I'm afraid that would be far too interesting. I want this Project to have a kind of mesmerising, repetitive quality to it. Like an eight-hour experimental film by Andy Warhol, or something.