Twaddle. Crap twaddle.

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Orange Juice’s Rip It Up. This was something of an ebay BARGAIN. Prices of around £30 are not uncommon. Somehow I managed to land this one for £3. GEDDIN.

It’s perhaps a near perfect pop album, with the lead single being the absolute perfect pop song. It stills sounds so alien to me. The drums and rhythm sound exotic, more than forty years on. The guitars fall up and down the scale.

I’ve only realised in recent years that the song should be understood in its literal sense: Orange Juice were at a stage where they wanted to… Rip It Up and start again. Sometimes the best plan is to say fuck it, and come back with a Plan B. Or C, D or E.

Just Kick It Until It Breaks.

Thirty three minutes in and WOH! Here we have Long Hot Summer. It’s the season, etc; it somehow feels appropriate. It also still sounds bloody lush.

The occasion was Paul and Mick dropping in on Jo Wiley for a chin wag about Cafe Bleu Deluxe. I’ve still not picked up a copy of the CD boxset. But it will come, don’t worry.

EXTREME fan boy, etc - but I just bloody love seeing photos of those two together again. The ending was messy - not in a personal sense, but certainly in terms of major label support and a feeling out of being out of time.

The quality never went away; and neither did the loafers, judging by the smiling press shot with Jo Wiley. Would it be too much to wish for new music from TSC?

I was dreading this. Track 1 almost did for me. To bail or not to bail? Wait! What’s this? It’s gets a little more melodic with Tuesday’s Gone. There’s even a pleasant piano solo in there. It then reverts to hairy old bollocks form. I bailed, natch.

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George Benson’s Breezin'. There’s always been a jazz funk fusion blend to my musical tastes, etc. It’s the perfect album to signal the start of early summer. I may even dig out my Soul Boy plastic sandals to complete the look. Martinis ahoy! Or cheapo Lidl lager, as is more likely to be the case…

Budgie! Gang of Four! That’s quite a cast list. High hopes, etc. But Christ, this was shit. The alarm bells should have been sounded with ‘folk rock duo,’ It’s wishy washy to the extreme. The Dire Straits cover did for me. I’m surprised I survived to track 8.

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Whenever I get invites to shitty 70’s themed ‘party’ nights, I often think of turning up with an un-groomed moustache, a battered leather jacket and a handful of Can albums under my arms. The ‘party’ will consist of sitting on the floor together, having a smoke, and listening to the magnificence of Can. If anyone dares to speak then they will be asked to leave the ‘party.’ I bloody love this group, and especially this album. It grooves away without being funky. It speaks to you without actually saying anything. Stick you Abba shite up yer arse.

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Uplifting indie pop, with a slightly darker edge. I still love Gepetto. It tells a story, creates an atmosphere and gets you singing - the three main things I look for in a pop song. The rest of album is standard, to decent. It doesn’t quite make the bold move over the edge to become something great. But it’s worth revisiting.

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A stunning four star album. I’ve been wanting to listen this in detail for some time now. Yer man Robert Elms always bangs on about it. I felt I knew it most of the tracks anyway, seeing as though he often drops them on BBC Ldn. It’s perfection. It captures Benson’t own transition from acclaimed jazz guitarist to something a little more soulful. I can’t decide where his talent lie: guitar or vocals? Both are stunning. A very smooth album that has set me up for the summer.

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You need to approach Time Out without a Jazz Head - which is just as well, seeing as though I haven’t really got one anyway. I’ve read about experimental time signatures and innovation. Fuck that. This album is a great listen, purely for the music and the mood itself. You don’t need to be a muso to appreciate the melodies that drift in and out, whilst the light touch on the drums and bass hold it all together. It sounds timeless, effortless. Not a diss, but a great album to work along to.

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