Ben's Country Music Show.

I've recently had the privilege of getting to know Ben Atkinson, host of Ben's Country Music Show, author, digital education developer, and all-round good guy.

Ben loves his music - mostly Country and Americana, and those are two areas in which our tastes have some overlap. While I mostly lean towards Americana, country rock and alt-country (Ryan Adams, Wilco, Son Volt, Golden Smog, Gram Parsons, Jayhawks), I do like some country, bluegrass and country swing.

Ben's radio show is now in its 12th year, and is syndicated across a bunch of radio stations as well as online. I've started listening to it, and am really enjoying it. Great music, news and interviews. Seriously, what's not to like?

Do yourselves a favour, (and Australian music fans will get that reference), go and check out Ben's programme.

Wilco (the concert).

It must be difficult to follow in your father's footsteps and always face comparison with him. I followed my father into his line of work for a few years, and that was hard enough. But to be in the entertainment business and have the public spotlight on you all the time must surely be extremely difficult.

And what if you don't live up to that scrutiny - or expectation?

I didn't blog last Wednesday as I usually do, because I wasn't really at home for a few days.  I was at work, and then in the city for dinner, and then off to a Wilco concert, and home by 1 a.m. for a few hours sleep before I did the same thing all over again. And it was wonderful.

The support act was Liam Finn, and I was quite looking forward to him. Unfortunately I was very disappointed. I thought his songs were bland, lacking in melody, formulaic and filled with dull trite lyrics. I know a lot of people seem to like him, but he did nothing for me.  And then to make things worse he decided to bring out a "special guest" - sorry, Liam, but a friend of yours with the charisma of month old asparagus and the musical ability of the old deaf pet dog I had as a kid, does not really constitute a "special guest".

I later read up on this guy, and it seems like he has quite a following. Which I can't really understand.  Oh well, each their own - and we all have different tastes.....

And then Wilco exploded on stage - and tore the place apart. And from the first song to the last, over two and a half hours later, they gave all. Both nights were absolutely stunning. In hindsight, the first night seemed a little more sedate, as the audience and the band were a little flat - energy-wise. But on the second night they kicked it up a couple of gears and hit us with the knock-out punch.

Amazing.

I was standing in front of the stage at the first show, and then up behind and to the left of the mixing desk for the second. Right behind the VIP section. As usual, it was filled with lots of "VIPs" I didn't recognise. They also didn't seem all that interested in the concert. They certainly spent a lot of time talking to each other, hugging, texting, talking more, texting more, and trying to pick up. Later some of them decided to try and create a dance step for one of the songs.  They also made the heavy metal "wolf's head" symbol with their hands (at an Alt-Country concert), yelled out a lot, and texted still more. I've never seen so many i-Phones gathered in the one place. They were also the only ones that didn't sing along with the songs - probably because they've never heard them before.

I guess some of them might have been friends of the promoter, or whatever, but the others....

I must say I noticed an odd kind of yellow pus that welled from the pores of some of these VIPs. It  oozed down their bodies, then dripped from their noses, elbows and other extremities. I later tried to grab some of this stuff for analysis but it had gone - evaporated into the ether like ectoplasm.

It doesn't matter, though. I think I know what it was.  I suspect it was record company slime.

But you never know -  I might be wrong.

Twenty-nine Years Fly By.

The only thing I knew before I went into the pub last night was the name of the band, Rubber Soul. Yet just before they started playing I told my companion that they would open with ‘I Saw Her Standing There.’ OK, with a name like that there was a fair chance they would play Beatles stuff, but to be absolutely sure of which song they would open with is pretty impressive. How did I know it? I have no idea, just another mystery in this universe.

Of course it got me thinking about the fabs, and particularly John’s death. The anniversary was just a few weeks ago.

I could have sworn it was a Friday, but I’ve just checked online and it can’t have been. It was an evening, and I was working my part time job at a local supermarket. I think school had finished for the year, but I was working and still had several hours to spend in the deep freeze and dairy case. Another schoolboy came in, someone we worked with, someone who was always a bit of a smart-alec, and told us that John Lennon was dead.

He said it with a grin, in that schoolboy kind of way, and I didn’t believe him. I figured he knew about my Beatles infatuation and that he was having a laugh. A bit later, when someone else mentioned it, I presumed it was a publicity stunt. After all, John had just released his first album in over five years and he probably needed all the advertising and publicity he could get. I thought I’d get home and find out it was all OK, a mistake or a hoax, and that John would be on TV making some quip about how he was very much alive.

Of course, as we all know, he wasn’t.

Others went of to early morning vigils in the city centre, my friend and I talked about wearing black armbands to school – but didn’t get around to finding any black material. So the two of us sat around and played Beatle and Lennon albums till late. And we talked.

Something similar happened a few years later when George passed away. In some ways that one was more upsetting. George always seemed like the nicest, the most down to earth, the most honest of the four lads.

And then there were two.

I’ve previously written about how Paul’s music no longer interests me, and Ringo hasn’t had a decent album since the early 70s. Drag out the remastered Beatles, throw on some early 70s solo stuff (be choosy) and crank them up. If you’re looking for new music, go and pick up a Wilco album instead.

And have a wonderful Christmas.

The Year Of The...

Ok, apart from all the excitement of the whole European trip and catching up with my in-laws, I have a number of great events coming up that I'm very excited about.

Next week, for example, I'm off to see The Angels. I'm a long time fan - 30 years plus - but it was only last year that I first saw Doc Neeson live, and only a year before that I saw The Angels (minus Doc) for the first time.  I'm thrilled they've worked through their differences and combined their powers for goodness and niceness instead of evil.  And they still rock!

Then in February it's AC/DC.  Very cool. Early next year I also have tickets for Wilco (an amazing band that I've seen several times now and can't wait to see again), The Pixies (who I also saw last year and loved), Ross Noble (a funny, funny guy that I've seen several times) - and I'm sure there's someone else - but I can't remember right now.

I was looking forward to going away for some astronomy with friends, but circumstances have prevented that recently.  But early next year I'll drag out my much under-utilised telescope and head off for a weekend of observing. Of course it's the company that makes the night so enjoyable, so the SEDNA gang will also have to be there.

And then there's Continuum 6 and Aussicon 4 - both next year. As much fandom and SF as one could hope for.

Yes, next year is shaping up as a fabulous one.  And although there have been a few occurrences this year I'd rather forget, it's been a great year in so many ways too.

2010 - Arthur C. Clarke decided it's "the year we make contact", the Chinese call it "the year of the tiger". I should declare it to be "the year of the writer" and change up a gear. In fact, I'm deciding here and now it's "the year things start to happen".

I'll have to get onto one of my weird friends and find out what she thinks the year has in store for me. She's always guided me right, you know.

Pulp Culture?

I read that Kylie Minogue received a cultural award from the French government. Hmmmm.

We're always being told how cultured the French are, with their art, cafes, wines and so on but now I find myself questioning this longheld belief. No offence, Kylie, but your music is just pop, and very average pop at that.

I love pop music - I have loads of it in my collection and I'll even admit to having a guilty pleasure or two, but a cultural award for "I Should Be So Lucky"? Full credit to Kylie, though. She's done very well.

In a perfect world Jeff Tweedy of Wilco, or Terry Scott Taylor from Daniel Amos, or Andy Partridge of XTC would be millionaires and revered throughout the world. Kylie would be dance music in clubs while the world would enjoy the art of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Apple Venus and Mr. Buechner's Dream.

Kylie lived the high life all over the world, while Andy, Dave and Colin from XTC were taking part time jobs in order to pay the bills between album releases. From what I understand most of the guys in Daniel Amos have full time jobs. The coolest unknown band in the world? Maybe - especially when you can claim that your guitar player is a rocket scientist at NASA.

Greg: What are you doing this week?Terry: Oh, I'll fiddle with my guitars, write a couple of songs. Produce some demos for a new band I know. You?

Greg: The usual. Pushing satellites around, driving remote vehicles all over Mars and going down to the basement to check out the moonrocks and a couple of aliens we had transferred over from Area 51.

Terry: Ok, see you next week at rehearsal. Oh well, I suppose true artists must suffer for their cause, and I know that quality does not equal popularity.

But in a perfect world Terry and Andy would collaborate to make the world's most perfect album. The Beatles would have performed once more in the late 70s so that I could have seen them at least once. Gene Eugene would resurrect and Adam Again would appear at a festival with XTC, Daniel Amos, The Swirling Eddies, Lost Dogs and The 77s in Melbourne so I could finally see some of these bands.

Philip K. Dick would have written a few more books, and I would be a talented and successful writer living the country life beyond the suburbs.

And Kylie Minogue would drop over sometimes to discuss the genius of Partridge and Taylor.