At long, long last... the "We listen" chart returns.

1. Various: Eurovision Song Contest Istanbul 2004
This may not come as too much of a surprise. Mind you, it's about to drop down the chart like a stone, as we enter the post-Eurovision refractory period...

2. Cesaria Evora: The Best of Cesaria Evora (also Cafe Atlantico and Sao Vicente Di Longe)
We have tickets to see the "barefoot diva" in Leicester on Monday, and are expecting great things. A deep, tender, honeyed voice - understated, easy-going, seemingly effortless - which takes time to work its magic, (initally, I was fairly underwhelmed) but which has steadily worked its way inside me over the past few months. Friday evening in the cottage, sipping the first beer of the weekend as we unpack the food, and the chances are that one of Cesaria's CDs will be first out of the orange shoebox.

3. Air: Talkie Walkie
Extinguishing all memories of that dreary prog effort which almost everybody hated, this ravishingly beautiful album is at least the equal of the classic Moon Safari, and quite possibly its superior. For such seemingly gentle, undemonstrative music, the spell which Talkie Walkie casts is a powerful one; it is quite simply impossible to remain pissed off while this is playing. Possibly the most played album of the year so far. Best moment: the sweet, Bach-like organ melody at the start of Mike Mills.

4. Omara Portuondo: Buena Vista Social Club Presents Omara Portuondo
We saw Omara in concert at the Royal Festival Hall last month. Bought last December, this album was our first introduction to her music; it has been played at least once a week ever since.

5. Dani Siciliano: Likes
Dani Siciliano has previously collaborated with her partner Matthew Herbert on two terrific albums: Around The House and Bodily Functions. This album marks the final break with any residual vestiges of the deep house sound from which Herbert's music first appeared. This is cool, sophisticated, endlessly intriguing downtempo electronica with a beguiling, organic sound. Highly recommended to just about everybody.

6. Kanye West: The College Dropout
Stunningly creative and expansive hip hop of the highest order, and easily the equal of Outkast's Speakerboxx/The Love Below. Marcello Carlin's lengthy and enormously helpful review says it all.

7. Various: BBC Radio 3 Awards for World Music 2004
Apart from a bit of tepid "club fusion" noodling at the beginning of the first CD, this is an exemplary guide to Who's Hot In World. Treat it as a shopping list, and it will keep you happy for months. Highlights: Oi Va Voi, Warsaw Village Band, and the beautiful Caetano Veloso song that featured in Almodovar's Talk To Her.

8. Coldcut: Lifestyles Vol.2
There's nothing more overrated than artist-compiled compilation albums, is there? Another Late Night, Under The Influence, Back To Mine... all that tasteful eclecticism palls so quickly, like a box of chocolates scoffed in too much of a hurry. Yet somehow, Coldcut have pulled it off, with a selection that, while stylisticaly diverse, flows in a way that enocurages repeated listening. Highlights: Otis Clay's original version of The Only Way Is Up, early 80s punk-funk from Nottingham's Medium Medium, and a great piece of mid-80s hip hop from T La Rock & Jazzy Jay which has worn remarkably well. (Memo to self: when the record deck gets re-connected, raid the 12-inchers in the attic for more of same. The Roxanne Shanté revival starts HERE.)

9. Phoenix: Alphabetical
Not as good as their debut, but it has its place; as such, my initial disappointment is slowly converting itself into a creeping fondness. The sort of album that might not be up there with your favourites, but which somehow gets played more than most. Will probably sound perfect on hot summer afternoons.

10. Franz Ferdinand: Franz Ferdinand
The hype put me off; the music won me over. Spot on, boys.

11. Prince: Musicology
His most consistent and directly commercial album since Diamonds And Pearls - and therefore, his most enjoyable. Lighter on the identikit perv-funk workouts; heavier on the guitar-based soft-rock which he has always done so well.

12. Amalia Rodrigues: The Art of Amalia
1950s and 1960s recordings from the Queen Of Fado. Did I mention we'd been to Lisbon recently?

13. Ojos de Brujo: Bari
A Christmas present from K, which went on to win a Radio 3 World Music Award. He can pick 'em.

14. Tom Middleton: The Trip
Best DJ mix CD in ages, especially the downtempo CD2.

15. Omara Portuondo: Flor De Amor
She can no do wrong.

16. Stereolab: Margerine Eclipse
Finally, after all these years, I get round to buying a Stereolab album. Funkier than I was expecting. And proggier (but in a good way). And a good deal less arid. Actually, I don't really know what I was expecting - but I certainly wasn't expecting something as straightforwardly accessible and enjoyable as this.

17. Erlend Oye: DJ Kicks
He mixes them, then he sings over the top of them (anything from Venus to There Is A Light That Never Goes Out). Against the odds, it works.

18. Tina Santos: Fados Do Fado
Did I mention we'd been to Lisbon recently? We saw Tina Santos perform at a tiny fado venue in the Alfama; the next day, we picked her CD up from the Fado Museum. Generic, but satisfying.

19. The Gundecha Brothers: Darshan
Classical Indian Dhrupad music, recorded live. Intense, devotional, meditative vocal improvisations, mostly drone-based, which make some giggle and others swoon. Particularly effective in the car, where the proximity of the speakers gives the voices an added intimacy.

20. JC Chasez: Schizophrenic
Sussed modern pop with a twist. A couple of iffy ballads towards the end, but when it hits, it hits big. Contains the future hit All Day Long I Dream About Sex, as used on the soundtrack of my recent performance piece.

21. Loretta Lynn: Van Lear Rose
Despite some good moments, her much vaunted collaboration with Jack White doesn't quite do it for me. It's all a bit too harsh, too strident, and - dare I say it? - too demographically calculated. Where Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton succeeded masterfully, Loretta Lynn's "re-invention" leaves her sounding a little bit desparate.

22. Scissor Sisters: Scissor Sisters
Former Number One! So ubiquitous right now that I am rationing my plays.

23. Rufus Wainwright: Want One
Sleeper hit of the year! Initially irritating - all that baroque ornamentation to wade through - but something made me keep playing this album until the songs stuck in my head, and it revealed itself as a thing of beauty and wonder. Even so, I would still have lopped off the last three or four tracks; the album does tail off badly towards the end, and Wainwright's voice begins to grate after prolonged exposure.

24. Jon Boden & John Spiers: Bellow
Traditional English Folk Music Not Crap Shockah! Two personable fellas in their twenties give it welly with the fiddle and the squeeze box, alternating between Martin Carthy-esque ballads and spirited, surprisingly complex jigs & reels, immaculately played, which make you want to tumble into haystacks with lusty farmhands.

25. Lambchop: Aw C'Mon / No You C'Mon
A move away from the austerity of Is A Woman, and back towards the lush orchestrations of Nixon. Exquisitely beautiful and memorable, particularly on Aw C'Mon, which flows like a dream.

26. Rokia Traore: Bowmboi
A Christmas present from K, which went on to win a Radio 3 World Music Award. He really can pick 'em.

27. Ilya: They Died for Beauty
Blah blah Portishead blah blah John Barry blah blah early Goldfrapp blah blah cinematic trip hop blah blah three star reviews in Sunday broadsheets etc etc. But in a good way. Honest!

28. Various: Lost In Translation (soundtrack)
My December to March blogging hiatus prevented me from raving about this film at the time. Loved everything about it, including the use of music - hence love this soundtrack.

29. Fiery Furnaces: Gallowsbird's Bark
After repeated plays, order begins to emerge from the chaos. I think this is what's supposed to happen with Trout Mask Replica. Except that Beefheart's alleged classic still sounds like a horrible, atonal, made-up-on-the-spot mess to me, whereas Gallowsbird's Bark is just reaching the tipping point between chin-stroke "interesting" and genuinely enjoyable. I'm predicting a sharp climb for this one.

30. Emma - Free Me
Ex-Spice Girl In Genuinely Good Album Shockah! Oh, you may scoff. But her next single, Crickets Sing For Annamaria, might make you reconsider. And I'm a sucker for breezy, fresh-faced sixties revivalism.

We're in the pub. A is telling B about C, who he has known for a few months. A explains that he first met C through Gaydar, the online "dating" (sic) service. Hesitantly, I chip in with a question.

"And has your friendship... retained that particular dimension?"

When did I get so delicate, so circumlocutional? Anyone else would have just spat it out. "Are you still shagging him, then?"

I am out of practice at all of this. Not so long ago, 50% of our conversation was who-shagged-who. Now, it's all pruning tips, have-you-met-the-so-and-so's, and proposals for the new village hall.

Which reminds me.

We're in the car, our journalist friend in the back seat, and we're talking about the indiscretions of youth. Or rather, I'm bragging about the copious indiscretions of my own youth. (I use the term "youth" in its most relative sense.)

"I see. Goodness. Perhaps I should be drafting your obituary?"

His concern, though misplaced, is touching.

"Oh, don't worry. There was never anything life-threatening about my particular repertoire. I was always more focused on the hors d'oeuvres than the entrées. As it were."

That's the thing about circumlocution. There's so much more scope.

Anna asked:
Are you happy? Could you be happier?

The short answer: Yes, and Yes.
The full answer: Christ, we'd be here all night.
The medium-sized answer, then.

As I've said a few times before, mine is an essentially contradictory disposition. Not only am I able to hold two equal and opposite opinions at the same time (if one can fairly call this an ability); I can also pull off the same trick with states of mind.

Thus, on the one hand, I'm a chirpy optimist, blessed with an uncommon degree of good fortune, who can never quite believe his luck. A sunny disposition, one might say. As difficult situations always seem to turn out right in the end, I tend to proceed through life in the cheerful assumption that they always will. Dangerously delusional, you might say; prophetically self-fulfilling, I would suggest. You are the architect of your own karma, and all that.

As someone who takes little in his life for granted, I will regularly experience sudden surges of pure joy at the circumstances in which I find myself. Particularly at weekends, in the cottage, or outside in the garden - places which feel as if they have been expressly designed to deliver utter calm and contentment.

(To say nothing of the happiness of being in a long-term, settled relationship with... but, as you know, we don't do slushy. Take it as read.)

On the other hand, there's an anxious, self-critical, fearful streak in me, which can see the downside to most things; self-subordinating, resisting change, missing opportunities. All of my happiness is therefore underpinned by a nagging sense of under-achievement, of doubt, of feeling that all of this has been fluked rather than earnt. That I am a passenger in my own life. Could do better.

Ironically, the greatest source of stress in my ridiculously cushy life is the fact that it is almost entirely stress-free. Karma's a bitch like that.

Labels: questions

Anna asked:
Post-it notes; should we object to anything but the 'natural' small, rectangular and yellow? Are novelty ones just Wrong?

Novelty post-it notes are most certainly Wrong. Not for any particular aesthetic reason (after all, the "classic" design is hardly a object of beauty), but for the simple reason that people are obliged to pay for them with their own money. Like biros and envelopes, all post-it notes should be either provided by - or swiped from - offices (or similar public institutions).

Labels: questions

Anna asked:
If you could write yourself into any novel and affect its outcome, which would that be?

I would dive into the middle of one of the early volumes of Armistead Maupin's Tales Of The City series - maybe the scene where Michael "Mouse" Tolliver wins the "Hot Buns" dance contest at the Endup - and would introduce myself as Someone From The Future.

"Look! I can prove it! Here's a magazine from The Future! Look at these photos of Cher on her Farewell Tour! OK, OK, bad example. Well, let's see what's in the news section. Look, here's your state governor, Arnold Schwarzen..."

"No, I have NOT been at the Angel Dust. Actually, I need to have a word with you about that shit as well, but... oh, I know, look what I've got in my pocket! It's a tiny portable phone! Isn't that amazing? And you can type little messages onto it, and it will even guess what word you're typing! And it can take pictures as well! Neat, huh? You believe me now, right?"

"What? Yes, of course it's got a built-in pocket calculator. Why do you ask? What's the big deal about... oh, right; pocket calculators are still the Big Thing round here, aren't... look, can I just get to the point? There's this huge epidemic just around the corner, and you guys all need to start wearing condoms every time you f**k - immediately, do you hear - or else many thousands of you will be dead within the next fifteen years. Including your new lover, Michael. Yes, I'm serious. Serious as a heart attack, baby. Now, what exactly are quaaludes? Are they fun? Do you have any?"

(Yes, I'm assembling one of those questionnaire thingies. More info below.)

Labels: questions

That "You ask, I answer" questionnaire on my sidebar is now over four years old. This makes it about eighteen months older than the actual blog; it dates from my old Geocities home page, and was simply copied across.

As such, the questionnaire has now aged to the point where the merest thought of some of my replies makes me cringe with embarrassment. It has to go.

Which is where you come in. Yes, I know that it has now become standard practice for bloggers to ask this of their readers - but, if you'll allow me a petulant A-List Blogger Moment, I DID IT FIRST. So there.

So, if you have any questions, then please leave them in the comments (up to a maximum 3 per person). I shall then endeavour to answer as many of them as I am able (there's probably not much point asking me about the finer points of differential calculus, for instance). The results will eventually be copied into a replacement questionnaire page, and bunged on the sidebar for posterity (or at least the next four years or so).

Thank you. How kind you are.

Points arising from Saturday night:

• Despite spending most of Saturday feeling Horribly Left Out, watching the contest on telly with six friends turned out to be almost as much fun as being there in person.
• By the end of the evening, we had a few new converts to The Cause. One of them even wants to come to Kiev with me next year.
• No, not K. Don't be daft!
• In fact, K bailed out early and went down the pub. No staying power.
• He seemed quite sober when he left, as well. I repeat: no staying power.
• Five of my predictions (see below) turned out to be accurate; fifteen were wrong, and four were "near misses". And I have the temerity to brand myself an expert?
• Nevertheless, I did at least predict the winner.
• Although my own vote was cast for Sweden. Because Stockholm 2000 was the Best Fun Ever, and I fancied a reprise.
• Sweden's Lena Philipsson, those lyrics, and that microphone stand: she knew, didn't she?
• As I feared, most people in the room really did talk all the way through the German entry. It was with some relish that I pointed them towards my prediction on this matter.
• Because - naturally! - I had already had printed copies of my predictions to hand. For the benefit of the group, you understand. Forewarned is forearmed, and all that.
• What the blinking blazes was going on with all those votes for Serbia & Montenegro? (Literal translation of title: Oh My Fawn. Shades of Father Ted, we thought.) There were too many votes, from too many countries, for it be purely a case of "political" voting.
• My take on the perenially thorny issue of "political" voting: it can get you so far, but no further. To get into the Top 5, you need to have attracted votes from right across the board.
• Having said all that: why did Belgium's One *punch* Life *punch* do so badly? We all thought it was great. Was this an anti-EU protest vote, directed at the mandarins in Brussels? It was all quite baffling; almost as baffling as Serbia coming second.
• Actually, the Belgian chorus works even better if, instead of punching the air twice, you make two flicks of the head: first to the left, and then to the right. This works best of all if (unlike me) you have a floppy fringe.
• Improbable hairdo of the night: France's Jonatan Cerrada. (And let's not even get started on the throat tattoo. Or the Interpretive Dancer on stilts.)
• Or the Interpretive Gymnastics from Russia.
• Lisa from Kent Cyprus blew it a bit, didn't she? I'm putting it down to nerves; she was much better on Wednesday.
• Not that this stopped the UK loyally awarding her 10 points, mind you. Funny, that.
• Deen from Bosnia should have stuck with the tits-out costume from the semis; I suspect that his modesty cost him valuable points.
• The First Annual Jemini Award for outstanding vocal performance goes to... Iceland's Jónsi, who had us all howling in pain.
• The Ruffus/Brainstorm Award (for songs/performances that would have stood up just as well in the "real", non-Eurovision world) goes to... Spain's Ramón. (Highly commended: Turkey's Athena and Belgium's Xandee.)
• K and I were thrilled to bits when the "video postcard" between the UK and Polish entries showed the very same balloon that we flew in, four years ago, in Cappadocia.
• That Russian spokesperson was a bit hoity-toity, wasn't she?
• Lorraine Kelly in Old Compton Street! Rah! Gay Pride!
• Er... and didn't the UK award maximum points to hunky Sakis "shekki-shekki-shekki" Rouvas from Greece? See previous point.
• Did Wogan say anything funny? Because we weren't really listening.
• In Summer 1982, I studied in Kiev for a whole month. I can't wait to get back there in 2005.
• And that really is your lot for this year. Troubled Diva will now resume its normal, Eurovision-free service. Thank you for your forbearance.
• Come on - why Serbia?

So, I expect you'll be wanting to know what happened on Saturday, then.