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You’d struggle to describe or even define what type of music Tom Waits makes. Pretty much like The Fall or even Ivor Cutler, he’s completely unclassifiable. Tom Waits is a one-off, a unique sound that either you adore or he gets on your tits. I fall in the former category.

Small Change sees him raconteuring at his finest. I’ve still no idea what he’s banging on about, but I love the cut of his jib and the way that he is just able to reel off endless words. They somehow all hang together without giving me an overall narrative. The late night jazz vibes help. You can almost smell the nicotine rising above you from some dingy basement club just by listening to this.

I often get the feeling he’s taking the piss, both out of himself and the audience, but I don’t care. It’s outsider music that no one else is making

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Cheaper buses but more bombs from Burnham

via Morning Star

An interactive exhibition of Zang Tuum Tumb releases. Art, artefact and pop architecture, collected one edition at a time.

The Sound of Perfect

Pleasant but not the masterpiece I was expecting. I was very familiar with the title track, with it being the lead song on a jazz compilation that I used to rinse back in the day. I was hoping for more of the same. Maybe it’s because I’m over familiar with Moanin, but I thought the rest of the album would follow in a similar direction. It kind of does but it loses that late night vibe and particular atmospheric that Moanin generates. I’d certainly play this again, probably as background music when I want to get things done. It’s uplifting, often venturing a little into the jazz over excitable territory. That’s not really where I want to be. I want the Moanin laid back vibes.

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I find it hard to write anything meaningful about a jazz album. I’m still very new to this, I’m still learning. Brilliant Corners is just that. It’s a fantastic record that takes you along different paths. That sounds like arsey jazz wank crap, but the music is so intoxicating and still feels fresh and modern.

Broad sweeping statement alert: I was struggling with music in recent years. I was looking for something new yet couldn’t find it. Reggae kind of filled the gap. I still return to this every now and then but I think jazz is what I was looking for.

I want something which I can listen to whilst working away and being engaged elsewhere, yet still appreciating the power that music can have. Brilliant Corners is just the latest in a long line of recent jazz findings that pretty much hit the spot for me.

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“When I close my eyes now I have a a movie-reel of stunning moments available to me. Anderson - constantly aware, constantly scanning, leading and directing - patrolling all areas of the football pitch as if the other players are just pawns in his game. Anderson isn’t human, he’s superhuman. His sense of the positioning of himself and others constantly updating, cataloguing every step those around him take and performing Rain Man calculations every millisecond to find the angles in which to dart and dance. Anderson is marvelous in the mundane moments and spectacular in the special seconds.”

Tell It Like It Is. Pete Blackburn on Elliot Anderson.

It was a busy Monday evening at the Sailing Club table tennis Monday social. We had six players. Some new rules were delegated on the spot: rather than play to 21, it was dictated we would play to 11 so everyone had some table time.

This meant for some very speedy play. You have no hiding place, no mercy when you are playing to 11 points. Within a blink of an eye you can find yourself six-nil down and pretty much chasing the game.

I came close to departing one game on a classic table tennis bagel - aka zero points. I managed to salvage some sense of respectability.

My final game of singles was my best game. It was an epic match, which, despite being played to 11, ended up with me winning 16-14. We had tied the game at 10-all and you needed to win by two clear points.

Some pretty random doubles followed. I made a suggestion that we play trebles. No one laughed. I think some of my fellow Monday Night Social players even took the comment as the innuendo that wasn’t honestly implied.

Another day, another Estuary Wilds walk. I’m booked in for my final ink session of the summer tomorrow - which all means that anything too strenuous is still out of the question. Walk to live, live to walk, etc.

There was an outgoing tide as I put in a purposeful stride and marched along towards the creek. The Colne mud was baking nicely and rapidly drying out. It looked like very thick brown custard.

Up above were some brilliant Big Blue Essex skies. There wasn’t a single cloud to be seen. I was however wandering lonely. There was no one else around, with just the right amount of breeze to keep me fresh.

This was all the perfect antidote to escape the political bullshit that was taking place elsewhere.

I reached the creek and then headed up around the back of Alresford. I startled the most stunning peacock who was flopping up and down on a roof. Or maybe it was the peacock that startled me?

I’d give this route 7 out of 10 in terms of scenic enjoyment. It’s an absolute stunner until you reach the creek. The lane towards Alresford is half decent, but then you have to dodge the cars on the main road back into Wivenhoe.

I know I can walk it like I talk it.

I rather enjoyed the Wivenhoe Town Cricket Club Annual Music Day on Sunday. I wasn’t sure at first if this was taking place. Facebook said yes but I didn’t see much else around the town.

I opened the windows at home shortly after 1 pm and yep, it’s deffo. It’s surprising how far noise can carry given the right wind conditions.

We rocked up at the Cricket Club ever so slightly fashionably late. I was also ever so slightly fashionably overdressed. I do like any excuse to get tarted up: Jase Wears G Force, right?

Which was all something of a shame as I would have gone for the face painting. I don’t think my urban streetwear Nottingham look circa 1991 would have gone down too well with a butterfly design across both cheeks.

The first task was to head to the bar.

Chin chin.

Some rather decent pale ale was sourced. This came very close to being ruined with a pesky fly hovering over my pint for the first five minutes or so. Be gone!

There were plenty of friendly faces around. We spent the first hour or so not talking cricket, but talking football. This should be an interesting season ahead at Broad Lane for the Dragons.

A little business conversation also followed. It seemed that the entire building team has been working on our house over the past six months or so and was also at the Music Day. It was good to catch up with them, although there was a definite difference in my level of conversation when I was three pints down, compared to a cup of builder’s tea each morning.

The wicket at the Cricket Club was protected, but not the outfield. It was pretty much trashed. And so was I by 3 pm.

We took a strategic position sitting at mid-off facing the main band stage. A sound check was taking place for the headline act. Given the length this took to carry out I was half expecting an Oasis at Wembley Stadium performance.

It was a covers band, natch, but they were bloody good. The guitarist in particular was incredibly talented and managed to hit all the right notes and riffs. SHOUT OUT to the metal version of Cameo’s Word Up, which I rather enjoyed.

So that’s the Annual Music Day for another year. These things tend to come around… every year or so.

Kaiso Power: Sound Revolution in Trinidad is an absolute joy. It’s a compilation that has just dropped on the Soundway label. It came via the always excellent Late Junction, as most things do these days.

The title may suggest something revolutionary involving Trinidadian music. That’s not far off the mark but it’s also so much more.

At the heart of this is the rhythm and the dance. Revolutions are always the better if they involve some dancing.

There’s so many styles on offer here, all colliding and building up a sense of change, movement and just having a bloody good time whilst you’re at it.

There’s ska, some afro beat and even some Latin rhythms thrown in. It’s the perfect antidote that I should turn to after being served up some dull rock shite as part of the daily album routine.

The closing track, More Weight by Abdul Malik de Coteau, is a bit of a variation from the rest of album. It’s also the standout track.

The story follows that More Weight is a game that the young Abdul played back in Trinidad, involving his school friends having basically a pile on to add more weight.

He then moved to Brixton and the More Weight now becomes a metaphor for the pressures growing up around him.

It’s a thoughtful way to close an album that tries to raise awareness but often takes you down a different path with your dancing shoes.

My kind of music.

The Welcoming Cafe That’ll Let You Linger As Long As You Like… But Don’t Order A Coffee

Londonist on Tea House Theatre