Ex Pistol

Steve Jones, one time Sex Pistol and perennial tearaway has, as they say, burned the candle at both ends for much of his adult life. These days he can be found at KLOS 95.5 on the FM dial in Los Angeles, where he presents Jonesy's Jukebox. It's a simple format: every weekday lunchtime, for two hours, he plays the records he wants to play, and invites guests on to the show he wants to talk to. Past alumni have included Jack Black, Johnny Depp, Pete Townshend, Iggy Pop, Ozzy Osbourne, John Lydon, Brian May, Courtenay Love and many many more.

The tunes are imperious, the conversation is relaxed and you can see that his rough edges have ever so slightly been smoothed out: he's mellowed. That's what moving from Shepherd's Bush to LA does to you; though he still doesn't suffer fools.

Jones has grown into, whether he likes it or not, an elder statesman of the punk generation. He's come a long way from the awkward spotty oik who swore openly at Bill Grundy on live tea time TV in Britain in the late seventies.

Here he is playing some beautiful Spanish guitar, jamming with Phil Collen from Def Leppard (please don't let that put you off) and making a lovely sound - fast forward to 9:40 if you don't want the preamble.

Be Careful, There's a Baby in the House

Uncle John

T minus 7

Little Sailor

Thomas Freddie George was born on 6 September at quarter past seven in the morning. The little fella weighed in at 7 lb. - 11.5 oz. and is everything proud parents Emma and Adrain could have wished for. And then some.

Today I made my first return visit to Yorkshire since emigrating four months ago to go and see him. And, as you can see, he's absolutely adorable. Emma passed him to me for a cuddle and he fell asleep in my arms almost immediately. I have this effect on people.

No caption required

This is for Emma and Adrian:

Loudon Wainwright - Be Careful, There's a Baby in the House

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1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Prompted by a couple of Phill Jupitus tweets last night, I've been carrying a whole bunch of XTC tunes in my head since I woke up at the crack of sparrows this morning.

I can't remember a time when XTC haven't featured on a mixtape/CD compilation/playlist at sometime or other in the forty years I've been knocking these things out. Beginning with Statue of Liberty🗽 back in 1977, the bunch of cheeky misfits from Swindon have written and produced some of the most intoxicating, quintessentially English, pop music spanning nearly four decades. The fact that Andy Partridge called time on their live career in 1982 due to crippling stage fright, never stopped them from hunkering down in the studio and consistently churning out magical album after magical album.

I'm sure everyone has their favourite favourite XTChoon they can't live without; with so many to chose from, it can only ever be a transient trio. I told Mr. Jupitus that Dear God, Grass and I'd Like That would be my first three out of the starting blocks. @FurryCanary commented that they formed a pleasing narrative arc; I never saw them like that, but I guess they do. I then remembered I'd nearly forgot The Meeting Place. Written by Colin Moulding it's probably the band's finest hour - from what is certainly their finest album.

I absolutely adore this quirky instrumental cover*. In fact it would be well at home in the little Folk club I belong to. Can you have a sea shanty without words. Or sea? An XTC shanty, perhaps.

Or if that doesn't float your sea vessel, how about this cracking lounge version of Senses Working Overtime?  It looks like it was recorded at a Route 66 roadside diner somewhere in Southern California. Further from Swindon and the miserable M4 I'd say it's impossible to get. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

* After having listened to it again several times over breakfast, it puts me in mind of the Camberwick Green/Trumpton/Chigley soundtracks. I'll get my coat...

I think I needed it just a little bit more than you

I mentioned the gig at the Bodega a couple of weeks back with Ryan McMullan. As good as he was, and he was, I think the young lad supporting him matched him punch for punch. Ryan probably shaved it on points; but he didn't have a song in his set half as good as this.

Travis sang 'Needed It' a cappella that night from the front of the stage, totally unplugged. And such was the respect shown to all the musicians on the bill that night, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop when he played this.

Travis is a Tourist: Needed It

Get Lucky

The Daftness

You're an English rock band from the East Midlands: Derby, to be precise. You release an album and get a bit of interest, but gigs dry up and the record company lose interest; you can't get arrested. What to do?
Move to LA, of course! Put out a catchy single, get it played on every FM station from the Eastern Seaboard to the West Coast and perform it on Jimmy Kimmel Live! to a TV audience of kajillions. Then watch the offers pour in to open for the Rolling Stones, the Who, the Foo Fighters...

And, what won't do any harm, record a tasty (very tasty) cover and shoot a stylish promo film for it in black and white. In a pub. In Derby.

The Struts: Get Lucky

They say their influences are Queen, The Darkness, Aerosmith and the Stones. No shit, Sherlock.