Category: Blogshambles

The writings of The Shambles.

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Shambletracks: The unmistakble Parsley Sounds of Ease Yourself and Glide

Hi ho, Shamble the Frog here!

Wakka Wakka!

Other catchphrase!

I’m back, and with a whole new bag of Shamble-itis to cough all over you. Get your hyper-Shamblic needles ready, prepare a dose of Pod-ium nitrate, and let Doctor Havelock bend you over and have a good look at what he’s dealing with.

Actually, full disclosure – I’m a bit ill. My face is full of liquid, my arms have stopped working and I’ve found myself driven into an insatiable rage by the blue shells in Mario Kart Wii (we’ve just got ours set up again for some three-player dukin’ with James, who you may remember from previous episodes…)

As a result I’m in need of some serious aural healing. Where best to turn other than the well-perfumed name of Parsley* Sound?

…

Well they’re not at the tip of everyone’s tongues, admittedly, but they’re bloody wonderful. Loosely described as a ‘psych-pop duo’ from London, Parsley Sound – aka Preston Mead and Danny Sargassa – released their debut album, Parsley Sounds in 2003. It’s a layered, lo-fi, dreamy treat, with hidden samples littered around like little musical nuggets to discover.

Much like some of my other heroes The Avalanches or Lemon Jelly, the twosome have an amazing ear for pairing disparate and warped snippets of other songs, combined with their own instrumental lines and often pitch-shifted vocals. You can hear this at play beautifully in one of their highlights, ‘Twilight Mushroom’, which was the first of theirs I was introduced to via the lovely radio medium of Lauren Laverne and 6Music. A chance encounter on one of her late weekday morning indie-a-thons, and I was hooked – to the point when I had to religiously track down the band in question. I fell in love with the rest of the album and its hushed, fuzzy but ever-so-precise vibe, as heard on another track from the album, ‘Platonic Rate’.

Unfortunately, the guys don’t seem to do much by the way of new music any more. A new LP called Picnic on Mars materialised on Soundcloud almost 10 years after Parsley Sound’s first was released, published without the aid of a label. Their Facebook page is sporadically updated, there’s no website to look at and their only appearances online recently has been on Caribou’s 1000-song playlist entitled ‘a musical history of my life’.

Anyway, Shamblechums, for you today I present the opener to Parsley Sounds, instructively called ‘Ease Yourself and Glide’. If you’re having a day you’d like to get away from, a week from which you’d like a quick sojourn, or just a five minute day-kip, pop it on, ease yourself and, for goodness sake, glide as much as you can.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mlrXFk6RjDk

Many loves, hugs and other drugs,

Dr Laurence Havelock, MD.

*if any Shamblefans appreciate this video link then let me know, I would like to be your friend.

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Shambletracks: Taj Mahal makes it clear that you Ain’t Gwine To Whistle Dixie.

HELLO. I’m here again. I being Paddy. Paddy being Paddy from the Podshambles.

How are you? GREAT, GOOD TO HEAR IT. I am also well – I’ve just finished doing a prerecord for Shoreditch Radio on Ella Woods’ show ‘Ella Plays What’ which has been super awesome. It was a Valentine’s Day special and I even got to choose some songs (for your information I chose Love In The Afternoon by The Martin Harley Band and No Children by The Mountain Goats – both classics). Do give it a listen on Shoreditch Radio this Friday at MIDDAY.

Anywho, I’ve chosen something a little different today. It’s an eight-and-a-half minute instrumental (I know, right?) in the form of Ain’t Gwine To Whistle Dixie by Taj Mahal. Point number one: I have been listening to this song for twenty years, and doing a quick google revealed to me that it isn’t in fact called ‘Ain’t Got To Whistle‘ – the name I have been referring to it by for literally 83.3333% of my life – which is a massive embarrassment. Point number two: it is gorgeous.

I was primarily brought up on blues music. My Dad plays the blues better than anyone I have ever met, and so the dulcet tones of old America used to ring throughout my childhood home every single day – and it was magnificent. My father is one of those guys that can just play music. Hand him an instrument and he will ace it: double-bass, jazz piano, trombone, erhu – you name it. He fucking rules. He’s in his mid-sixties and is still taking music lessons every week to ‘make sure he keeps his eye in’, and regularly plays with his bands ‘Lady & The Gents’, ‘The Coffin Dodgers’ and ‘Trains’. Thus it was only natural that myself and my siblings all learnt music from a very young age, all going on to forge careers in the industry. The one thing we can all agree on it that blues was the instigator – and it was all thanks to Dad.

I’m sure I’ll cover a fair bit of the music he introduced us to in the coming months, but the song that instantly springs to mind is this one. Perhaps it’s because it’s a long piece with no vocals, and therefore provides some kind of backing track to the vast majority of my earliest memories. Maybe it’s just because it is rad. Either way – here it is.

If you haven’t listened to Taj Mahal yet – DO IT NOW. Henry Saint Clair Fredericks (his real name) is a musical mastermind and a bloody hero to boot. Have a dig through his discography and you’ll find he has played with literally everyone under the sun (odds are you have heard him before on one song or another) and quite rightly so. Check out The Best Of Taj Mahal for an idea of his style.

I hope you enjoy the mellow tune from my youth ‘Ain’t Gwine To Whistle Dixie’.

You’re welcome.

Big love,

Paddy XX

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Shambletracks: Radiohead unleashed

Hey, you, shambles, hey, look, OK, so, let’s get this cleared up:

I frikkin love Radiohead. To unhealthy levels. I’ve got all the music they’ve ever put out. Most of it on oldey timey vinyl. I carried around one of their South American tour posters for two months because I flew out to Santiago (that’s in Chile, DONTCHAKNOW, I am a seasoned world traveler) on the night their tour started there.

I even have a shrine to Thom Yorke in my room, full of scrapings of his skin, flecks of his spittle and at which I pray in requisite style on a daily basis.

It’s all true. And it’s time I shared this with you all because a) I might be arrested before long and b) I’ve decided to finally breach the Radiohead dam, live on Shambletracks. I’m sorry.

Way too much has been written about them and their pioneering seven studio albums of unmitigated excellence (their first, Pablo Honey, is unmitigated dorgturd-ulence and should not be listened to), so I’m not going to add too much. Just these following tidbits that might be new to you:

  • They went to the same school as Paddy and I, and Jonny Greenwood had the same viola teacher as me. Therefore, we are all blood brothers. They also wrote a not-great song about their/our old headmaster.
  • Not only does ‘Just’, from second album The Bends, have an incredible video, but it was also recorded in one lone take. The whole thing. No overdubs. Even we need overdubs for our shamble-storm of a podcast.
  • 2003’s smash Hail To The Thief was the first album that I bought by the fantastic gentlemen. I didn’t really get it, but it does feature what is still one my favourite tracks – ‘Wolf at the Door’ – which I will wager is the first time you’ve heard Thom Yorke sing-rap over a nursery rhyme backing.
  • They appeared in possibly the finest episode of South Park you’ve ever seen, in what ranks alongside the Korn Magical Mystery Tour Hallowe’en special.

That’s all the tidbits you get, you cheeky so-and-sos! I’ve put, below, one of the tracks that first turned me onto them. It’s called ‘Black Star’, it’s from The Bends, and it’s about heartbreak. It has a killer lead guitar line. Enjoy.

Night night, be safe, don’t let the OK Computers bite,

Laurie x

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Shambletracks: TV On The Radio are always on my TV and my Radio.

So I forgot that Laurie is technically on holiday this weekend and I was meant to do all the Shambletracks. Erm. Woops. But I’m here now so it’s totally fine, and boy oh boy woah check it out wham bam thank you ma’am have I got a treat for you sonny Jimbo. It’s here, it’s now – it’s TV On The Radio.

Ever since I emerged from my bio-egg as a tumbling cub (/happy-go-lucky scamp) I have been filled with a yearning – an insatiable thirst for something to wow me. I frolicked for years, heading from port to port (not sailing, just tumbling) trying to find a seemingly unobtainable high. It never came.

UNTIL ONE DAY.

I was stood outside The Star (a sleepy pub just off Cowley Road in Oxford), having one final pint with my brother Walter before I boarded the bus to move to London. I was scared as I had lived in Oxford my entire life and the prospect of moving to the big smoke was in equal measure tantalising and petrifying. You know when you’re sort of unsure about whatever you are about to do, and as a result you end up making your current task last as long as possible to try and procrastinate your way to not having to face the inevitable? I was doing that. I’d been nursing the Guinness for a good 45 minutes when my brother approached.

“I have something for you, you know, to listen to on the bus.” He grinned and handed me a mix CD, and suddenly everything was fine. You see Walter always accents big moments in my life by making me mix CDs. He gave me one every Christmas as I grew up, every exam period, every birthday, every failed relationship and every major accomplishment. The mixes were always there, helping me on my way, and they were always fucking sensational.

I remember this one so, so clearly. I listened to it all the way to my new flat and I fell in love with every single band on there. It had some storming tracks on it (Sin (Live) by Nine Inch Nails, It Fit When I Was A Kid by Liars, Televators by The Mars Volta, Last Nite Of The Proms by Youthmovies – and many more gamechangers) but one in particular stood out for me: Love Dog by TV On The Radio. It genuinely made me smile, and suddenly everything was going to be okay. Sometimes songs resonate in that very special way – this was one of those times.

Love Dog is a restrained, heartfelt and honest song, with perfect harmonies and haunting strings pulling it all together. It draws inspiration from Persian poet Rūmī’s ‘Love Dogs‘ (the final lines of which read “There are love dogs, no one knows the names of. Give your life to be one of them.”) and manages to become a topic for debate in its true meaning – the main question being is it about falling in love with partner, or is it about finding God. Give it a listen and draw your own conclusions – I truly love this song.

I know this has been a bit of a serious one, but hey I spend so much time dicking about it’s actually quite nice to show a different side of things sometimes. I hope you’ve enjoyed it. Without further ado, I present TV On The Radio‘s ‘Love Dog‘ from the album ‘Dear Science‘.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LfUv6r3iVOw

That’s it from me today – I think the Hamburglar/Corporal #coolmoves/Magic Magic Johnson/CrumpetKing1000 (Laurie) will be back tomorrow!

Big love,

Paddy XX

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Shambletracks: The Staunton Lick rejuvenates your faith in happiness.

hello it is paddy i am 24 and one month old and i like songs.

That’s how I would start if I had my way – but I don’t. So I’ll begin like this:

Hello! It’s me again (me being paddy who is 24 and one month old and likes songs). Perfect.

I hope you are all well – apologies for the delay on this instalment of Shambletracks – last night I ended up going out to buy chicken and then sort of…didn’t make it home? It’s just one of those things isn’t it. You guys know. We ALL know. I ended up discussing the best party build for Dragon Age Inquisition (#coolmovesdragonwhatsup) and then watching the film Heathers – a film that I was promised was good, and ended up sort of destroying my faith in cinema. It was a long night, but don’t worry friends – I made it out alive.

Today I have chosen The Staunton Lick by Lemon Jelly. I was going to go with something horrendously depressing, but decided to try and cheer up and revisit my favourite British TV show of all time. That show is Spaced, and this song is the music in the final scene. Spaced basically changed everything for me. It got me interested in comedy, which is now my job, and gave me a whole new slant on how to construct humour. Spaced was everything I had ever wanted, and I still cry every single time this gorgeous song bleeds in the background of that fateful finale. If you haven’t seen it, go and watch all of Spaced right this minute. You can burn through it in a day, and you will never regret it – I promise.

The song itself is simplicity at it’s finest. Built using the most basic of chords and melodies, gradually building and stripping into a tune that will a. get stuck in your head, b. force a grin onto that surly face of yours, and c. make you admit that you’re scared of mice and spiders, but oh-so-much greater is your fear that one day the two species will cross-breed to form an all-powerful race of mice-spiders who will immobilise human beings in giant webs in order to steal cheese.

Laurie, Zac and I sometimes put this on in the flat when we need to remember everything is going to be totally fine. You should too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBLWDF2nfP8

That’s it from me – have a drink. Go on. I fucking dare you. I’m going to have a drink. Drinks drinks drinks.

Big love,

Paddy XX

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Shambletracks: Woop, woop, it’s the sound of Edith Piaf

Hello and hurrah, it’s a brand new week and I have the honour of kicking it all off for you.

I imagine by now the February blues have begun to overwhelm you; you have realised there are whole days of monotony separating you from now and the glorious possibilities of a free weekend and that must be frightening. Your morning coffee was not as sweet as the one which you lazily enjoyed yesterday, your morning meeting has presumably dragged on for far longer than necessary and you’re beginning to wonder how you wound up at this job you loathe.

So, feeling pumped?

Don’t worry. I have the cure. Sort of. If you like this kind of thing. If not, this song could tip you over the edge. If you do fall on this side of the fence, don’t worry, follow the final link in this post for a pick me up.

I’d like to caveat this introduction however and explain, before you judge me, that today’s post is kind of wanky. Not in the sense that, for example, Piers Morgan is a wanker and thus could be described as a wanky human being, but in the sense of ‘I’m a semi-pretentious twat’.

Last week I was shown the film La Haine, Mathieu Kassovitz’s stylized social commentary detailing the lives of three young men the day after a riot, sparked by police brutality, engulfed the estate in which they live. I won’t tell you any more about the plot, but simply implore you to watch it this week if you have a spare evening. I’ll only warn you that it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, being a French indie film from the early 90s, with subtitles and shot in black and white (I told you I was going to sound a little wanky before the end of this post…)

One scene sums up Kassovitz’s approach to telling this would-be grim tale. Rather than focusing on the scars the recent violence has left on the estate, which are ever present nonetheless, Kassovitz constantly attempts to let the colour of life on the estate shine through despite it’s apparent bleakness.

As Cut Killer’s Assasin de la Police remix blares out over the oppressive cityscape, the audience is witness to an impossibly optimistic sentiment, that however depressing and downtrodden life may be there are those that will improvise and reinvent, making the best of a bad situation. And, uh, also that guys who scratch over massive speakers while overlooking a 1990s Parisian estate with a backwards snapback on – and do so in black and white – are fucking cool.

The remix in question samples seven songs in total (for a full list see the end) but in the main blurs together two songs which have no right to function in tandem, KRS-One’s Sound of the Police and Edith Paif’s, Non Je ne Regrette Rien. The result is awesome and has stuck with me since seeing the film for the first time last week.


I hope you enjoy it and, if you get a chance to see La Haine, that you enjoy it, too.

For all of you who don’t enjoy gritty black and white social dramas, and whom I’ve pushed over the edge into the February abyss with my choice in song, fear not, I have not forgotten you: try this on for size and hopefully it will liven up the start to your week.

Love love love, Zac x

(Three loves, aren’t you all ever so lucky).

Full sample list a.k.a ‘a list of fucking tuuuuuunes for you to enjoy’:

KRS-One, Sound of the Police

NWA, Fuck da police

Edith Paif, Non Je ne Regrette Rien

Notorious B.I.G., Machine Gun Funk

NTM, Nique la Police

Busta Ryhmes, Woo Hah

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Shambletracks: Oh, Beck, I’m so glad you could make it

And it’s a Shamble-Ho to you, my mine fillies, and would you know it’s a Hi-De-Shamble to you too.

With the pleasantries out of the way, I think it’s time we got down to brass tacks. Cut the crap. Got to really mutually beneficial solution. Mano a mano. With a cherry on top. Without messing around, or elongating sentences, or looking for a quick getaway, or even- HOLY GONADS, BANANAMAN, HERE, ON A SUNDAY!? LAURIE AWAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaay.

Ah. OK, well, the truth is I’m very bloody tired today. I made the unfortunate mistake of ‘going’ on a ‘run’, if you can call ‘stumbling’ ‘vaguely’ towards ‘a park’ that. Then I ate a massive bowl of gnocchi and forgot to do Shambletracks until after midnight.

But it’s fine, guys, gals, centaurs, goblins and any other marginalised high fantasy beast! I’ve got something upbeat to shake you out of the funk, whether you spread across the sofa on Sunday night or sloppily dragging yourself to work, school or The Camelot School of Jiggery-Pokery and other Wizard Activities on Monday morning.

Yes, it’s everyone’s favourite secret scientologist and genre-hopper Beck ‘Beck’ Hansen, screeching in at the last second (just in time for your morning break, I suppose?), guitar and hand and a hell of a tune up his non-wizarding sleeves. ‘Girl’, taken from his 2005 album Guero, is a bleep-blork-tastic tale of summer love and the singer’s admission that ‘I know I’m gonna make her die / Take her where her soul belongs’. It’s really cute like that.

It’s a choice cut of gameboy sound samples, pumping acoustic guitar and fevered slide playing, combined with little snips of other clips to round out the sound. Aided by the amazing production of the Dust Brothers and Tony Hoffer (Tonys are always great), the rest of the album is also a electronically shaken up feast of similarly upbeat romps. Other favourites – if you ask me, which you are, just so we’re clear – are bombastic opener ‘E-Pro’ and ‘Black Tambourine’, which has an incredible ASCII Art video.

Guero as an album is a natural successor to his madly popular LP smash Odelay rather than Beck’s previous album, Sea Change, which is a bit of a mopey ballad mine (which is no problem – ‘Lost Cause’ is one of the greatest fucking songs ever written, but might be a bit distracting on a grey, cold Monday Morning). It’s well worth ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-checking out, you little minxes.

Till next time, make mine a quadruple scoop with extra chocolate sauce, tickle my hammock and hand me a badger on a plate of wasps,

Laurie x

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Shambletracks: Oh wow – it’s The Martin Harley Band. OH WOW, OH WOW.

I, Paddy, have returned from the fields of battle and I bring word of the ‘monkeys riding dogs in order to herd goats’ uprising – basically, stuff is not looking good. Some of the chimps even have tiny lassos and novelty hats. I cannot begin to describe the destruction I have witnessed (though I did just begin to describe it – I think what I’m trying to say is I am now going to stop trying to describe the destruction I have witnessed as I’ve really backed myself into a corner here with a joke which is fine at best and relies heavily on the ‘monkeys riding dogs chasing goats’ google search I did earlier).

Anyways, hello. I’m here – isn’t that lovely? Over the past few days you have been lucky enough to experience two people who are really, REALLY good at writing writing really, REALLY good things about the good realities of good, REAL music (fuck me – that was even difficult to write down, let alone say out loud). NOW YOU HAVE ME. SUCKS TO BE YOU, DICKHEAD.

The Shambletrack I have chosen today is ‘Love In The Afternoon‘ by The Martin Harley Band and there are many reasons behind this – such is the nature of choosing things. The main reason is ‘these guys are shitting brilliant‘.

I was introduced to TMHB (The Martin Harley Band)…(I’ve just noticed that it really defeats the point of giving an acronym if you then have to explain it immediately afterwards…and then further defeats it by going on for like 42 words explaining the situation you now find yourself in) ANYWAY me and TMHB (see before OH SHUT UP PADDY) go way back. I was introduced to the band by Shamblefriend and genuine friend James Utechin back in 2007ish. Now I know what you’re all thinking – “Paddy, is that the same James Utechin who played Young Remus Lupin in the flashback scenes of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix yet due to the editing of the full movie only actually ended up in it for two-thirds of a second?” YES IT IS GOD WOULD YOU STOP GOING ON ABOUT IT ALREADY? Christ alive. Anyways, James is one of my heroes and has an impeccable music taste (as long as you like music that is either balls-to-the-wall rock’n’blues, hairspray-fuelled glam-metal, or anything happy that manages to rhyme words such as ‘drinking’ and ‘thinking’, ‘smoking’ and ‘choking’ or perhaps even ‘whiskey’ and ‘frisky’).

Long story long, The Martin Harley Band were his discovery, and I am so indebted to him for the gift he gave me from that day on. The band manages to combine genuine virtuosity, fist-stomping rhythms and brilliant lyricism – wrapping it up in some ol’ timey blues motifs to boot. They’re everything I want in a feel good band (although their more restrained, slightly sadder stuff is equally excellent) and to top it all off they really know how to put on a show.

I don’t think there’s a huge amount I can say about the song itself – the video has about 40 seconds of pre-cursor setup (which I do love) but when the guitar kicks in you know you are about to have a fantastic time. The main merit for me would be it proves they are a band that cares as much about rhythm and feel as they do about fancy footwork and solos – and being a rhythm guitarist myself I have so much time for that.

So make sure you have a drink in your hand and a partner to smile with – and throw on this tune. Not recommended for people with bad ankles as you will, I repeat will, tap your foot.

All my love,

Paddy XX

p.s. expect a return to coherent sentence structure and viable use of the English language upon Laurie’s return to Shambletracks tomorrow.

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Shambletracks: Lay it down, Nujabes

I feel like I’m going to be nothing but a disappointment after yesterday’s barnstormer of a review, courtesy of Shamblepal Zac – if you missed it, check out his beautiful homage to Mark Ronson’s funkathon here.

But, alas, what holds for life also holds for the musical section of shambolic comedy podcasts: the show must go on. Like a beaten-up, one legged tortoise next to a particularly spritely and beautiful hare, who has defied convention to win the race, steal my wife and alienate my kids, I’ll plod towards the audio finish line with my pick for today: one of Japan’s finest hip-hop exports, Nujabes.

If the name’s not immediately familiar to you, I only discovered Mr Jabes – real name Jun Seba – through the cracking anime series Samurai Champloo. It’s the tale of homeless sword-swisher Mugen, Jin, a calm but sarcastic ronin, and Fuu, a young lady slightly hopelessly searching for a florally perfumed Samurai (literally the fulcrum of the plot). Though it’s set in Edo-era Japan – a time of long robes, wooden sandals, cowering peasants, wicked feudal lords and kickass sword-fighting – the soundtrack is all frenetic, jazzed-up hip-hop produced by Nujabes.

The result is that every clash of swords is punctuated by a shuffling beat, every quip by the twang of a syncopated bassline, every beautifully drawn sunset by a soulful lament. It’s gorgeous stuff. Highlights of the two Samurai Champloo soundtrack LPs include Aurarian Dance, an instrumental that borrows an old Spanish guitar song, complete with orchestral backing, and Shiki No Uta, a seedy funk ballad with vocals from Japanese soca singer Minmi.

Nujabes released five stunning albums, alongside a host of EPs, singles and collaborations with rappers and DJs. Devastatingly, however, his last album Spiritual State was released posthumously: on February 26th 2010, Seba was killed in a car accident at the Shuto Expressway in Tokyo.

Even since then, both Spiritual State and its predecessor Modal Soul are considered two of the finest hip-hop albums ever made, and still attract thousands of new young fans and admirers. Nujabes’ undeniable talent was for pairing scattered, heavy hip-hop beats with a myriad instrumental samples, which in his hands and through some weird alchemy were stitched together to create amazing new hybrids.

Feather, the track I’ve picked out today, is one of the few that featured rappers before the numerous re-releases that followed Seba’s death. Florida hip-hop outfit CLYNE and long-time collaborator Cisse Star alternate verses and choruses, their relaxed and slick words taking in nods to John Steinbeck, Flowers for Algernon and Don McLean’s American Pie. It’s all borne from a single piano lick, split up and cut back together, slowly joined by a growing backing of booming horns. It’s stunning stuff, and well worth a listen even if you’re not a huge hip-hop or rap fan. Chekkit.

Paddy returns tomorrow! Till next time, beloved Shambles,

L-Dwag 9000, owner of nubz and slayer of DARGONZ x