He’s so London, he’s so South, etc. Transpontine soul floats all over geography. There’s no mistaking where this album was recorded, despite the generic Geography title. It’s laid back S ldn, and not the SHOUTY SHOUTY version that sometimes boils over in the summer. A half decent spring moment captured, ahead of the more livelier days ahead. Enjoyable, if a little bland.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

And so farewell Andy Kershaw. I was very saddened to hear of his death. I admit to not knowing that he was seriously ill. He seemed to be the type of character that was always there - cutting his broadcasting teeth on Whistle Test, being the wonderfully rude and inappropriate host at Live Aid, his out of place Radio 1 show, transiting to Radio 3, and then even finding a new home in the DIY world of podcasting. But alas, no more.

His random podcast over recent years is actually far better than his wonderful Radio 3 shows, before he got the boot at the Beeb. Kershaw finally found a platform where he didn’t need to hold back and could Tell It Like It Is. In the murky world of post-legacy media, this can often be a euphemism for right wing nut jobs going off on one. But not for Kershaw. If anything, the opposite was true.

Sure, he was flawed at times with a complicated personal life. Who isn’t? It was quite something to be able to rebuild his career, despite both the BBC and the tabloids seemingly doing all that they could to hold him back.

At the core of his dogged determinism was the music. It wasn’t his ego or even financial reward; he had no shame in passing around the begging bowl on his podcast, pleading literal poverty to keep the lights running on the random pods. You sense that he felt it was his mission to get the music out there and share his love of it with others.

I’ve been introduced to many amazing artists thanks to Kershaw. The podcast title of Andy Kershaw Plays Some Bloody Good Records was true to form. What we now broadly know as World Music reaching a larger audience is largely down to Kershaw. His knowledge was vast.

And o farewell Andy Kershaw. He didn’t give a shit, right up until the end.

A new one for me. I wouldn’t describe this as country, despite what Wiki tries to tell you. It’s more in the tradition of Steve Earle. It’s the kind of music Alabama 3 might be making if they came from, erm, Alabama and not Brixton. I could have done without the talky talky bits. Otherwise a very classy alt Americana album.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I finally got round to watching the Spinal Tap film this evening. A brief VPN switch and a little creative searching led me to where I needed to be - and then the local village cinema announced that it will also be screening The End Continues in a couple of weeks. Hey hoe.

It’s not a bad film - in fact it’s rather good - but it struggle to compete with the original. No shit. Sequels are rarely a good idea, especially when all that went before was groundbreaking and spawned a whole new cinematic genre.

And so I won’t compare The End Continues to the first film. Much…

But it’s impossible to escape the backstory. Even the film itself includes footage from the first Tap movie, to help fill in the gaps for anyone who isn’t up to speed.

The plot is irrelevant. For the film to work, Tap need to be back together again. A rather unnecessary hook is developed in which to hang the next couple of hours or so. All you want to do is to observe the current state of the band relationships.

And that’s what works with The End Continues. It’s a very warm, life-affirming film, more about friendships than it is about rock ‘n’ roll. Trainspotting II tried something similar, but didn’t quite pull it off. Tap get away with it.

It’s impossible not to have any love for the main characters. The axis is around David and Nigel, and their love hate relationship. Age is also a major theme. The End Continue isn’t afraid to focus on death - and not in a metal style, either.

Some of the star cameos by the likes of Macca and Elton don’t work. They feel very forced and distract from the amateurish nature of the band. The ending is predictable, but also needed doing. Look away now if you’re a drummer, etc.

It’s a lovely film that I’m sure even the stiffs in the village cinema will enjoy. All the signposts are there from the original - Nigel and his pedals, the back and forth banter, and even the structure of the end credits.

The End Continues is about growing old ever so slightly gracefully, and a little wiser. But without the drugs.

I had no idea T Bone Burnett was involved in this. It’s still bloody whiny in places. Mr Jones remains a delight. It’s one of those albums that I think I’m suppose to take seriously. But sometimes I just don’t give a shit and want to listen to something that bounces along and makes me want to bop. Counting Crows aren’t that band.

⭐⭐

Fuck this shit. Seriously.

⭐

I’ve become quite obsessed with the mid 80’s Mile Davis. You BOUNDER! You CHEAT! Gosh, that’s something that would seriously annoy the Birth of the Cool jazz heads. But it’s just so accessible, in a way that, say. Sketches of Spain can be something of a… struggle.

In particular, You’re Under Arrest is constantly streaming right now. It’s gets off to a bloody awful start with some US cops scene being played out. You’re Under Arrest, natch. But stick with it, and the pop, jazz crossover soon kicks in. Think Kenny G for the cool kids.

There’s a cover of Human Nature - a lovely, lovely song, but one that I find hard to listen to the original now, given what we now know about MJ. Miles' cover of Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time is Lush. You can see how Prince was keen to hang out with Miles during this time.

The period from around the start of ‘85 through until ‘87 was a rich picking for soul and jazz meets pop. The production values were experimenting, and there was still a strong belief in the song. Christ, even Five Star were half decent.

Miles and Five Star in the same blog post. Now that seriously will piss off the jazz heads.

A delight to listen to, from start to finish. The thing with any Lee Perry album is that you think you already know it, even those most of the tunes are fresh. No one makes a sound like him, stretching out every note, yet still holding the rhythm. This music works best when the sun is shining and you have optimism for what is ahead. Monday was one of those mornings. Aye.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I’m a sucker for prog shit. Except this is 80’s prog, with even elements of funk coming through. The songs slide all over the place as the scales change continuously. It’s quite an unsettling experience. Unsettling is good when it comes to music. You should never feel too comfortable.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I dismissed this initially as horrid metal turge. But wait! What’s this? There’s actually some half-forced tunes in there. Blimey. I wouldn’t buy it, obvs. I wouldn’t even dance to it. I don’t think that you can dance to ISIS. But it did hold my attention for more than fifteen minutes - a rarity with some of the metal shit on this list.

⭐ ⭐