Podshambles 40: Snake Oil (Season Finale)

Podshambles 40: Snake Oil (Season Finale) is now OUT! Here’s what to expect:

The Podifications have been made and the results are simply flabberCasting. That’s right – it’s the end of Podshambles Season 2.

Look at how far we’ve all come – it’s actually rather astounding that we’re still here/not dead. So what better way to celebrate than an ENORMOUS Podshambles Special?

Laurie and Paddy are joined in this Podquest by soon-to-be movie star James Utechin and already-super-rad Zac Cole for a good ol’ fashioned game of Snake Oil.

We really hope you enjoy this extra-fantastic episode. Thank you all so much for your continued support of the podcast and YouTube channel.

Bring your RainbowPhone and start banging your UrgeDrum. Once more unto the breach my friends – it’s Podshambles 40.

Click here to listen on Acast, or just listen using the thumbnail below!

Alternatively you can click here to download on iTunes/subscribe/check out the back catalog/my lovely lady lumps.

Aren’t friends brilliant?

Big love,

Paddy & Laurie & James & Zac XXXX

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.

Shambletracks: Zac does Mark Ronson

HELLO and good day.

You lucky (maybe) readers have the pleasure of getting stuck into a guest blog-post today: I, Zac, will be stepping into the role usually held by either one of Messrs Paddy or Laurie, and doing my best impression of a shambolic human being. I am, in fact, quite a coherent and organised individual, but I will try my hardest to fit the Podshambles billing. You could even say I am quite literally a ‘sham’ Shambler.

I’m going to come at this from a slightly different angle to the manner in which Paddy and Laurie invade your Internet. All the songs put forth by the Podshambles blog (Shamblog? Podblog? Blambles?) thus far have been brilliant, and I am a fan, but I shall veer away from the Indie/Rock/Niche vibes which have dominated until now and have a think about someone far more mainstream – hear me out, OK?

It being Wednesday – in my opinion the worst day of the week – I thought people could use a pick-me-up. Sitting slap-bang in the middle of the week, Wednesday’s far enough away from the previous weekend that anything fun you got up to begins to fade into a fuzzy memory and so far away from the coming weekend that freedom is nothing more than a distant dream. Goddamit Wednesday.

To pick you up out of the spiralling whirlpool of misery that is the middle of the working week, I thought I’d propose a song to help you all get your funk back. Your Uptown Funk that is…and seamlessly we segue into today’s topic. (See what I did there? Or did I ruin it by telling you exactly what I did?)

 

I’ve never been totally sure of Mark Ronson: not in the sense I mistrust him as a person – I am sure he is lovely – but rather I can never make up my mind as to whether he is a talented musical producer or some sort of musical dilettante.

On the surface, he seems able to throw his hand to any genre of music and turn it into a popular hit. He was able to (in my opinion) better an already great song in The Zutons’ Valerie, improve a rather rubbish song tenfold with Oh My God, create a unbelievably catchy hit in The Bike song and all the while doing so using the input of rather irritating musicians. Generally, I am not one to sing the praises of Lilly Allen, Amy Winehouse or the front man from the annoying band who sing about having the same jeans on for more than one day, but throw mark Ronson into the mix and I find myself bobbing my head along nonetheless.

That’s not to say Ronson has never missed the mark: his interpretation of Radiohead’s Just is a jazzy but ultimately soulless facsimile – but then Just is a fantastic song to begin with, so he was perhaps biting off more than he could chew with that one.

In addition, Ronson is almost always his own worst enemy. His songs are catchy and ultimately great pop songs, getting people to bop along happily but then thanks to his prowess at writing such melodies or reformulating existing hits these songs are played incessantly by unimaginative radio DJs. His hits then become omnipresent, played on every station and in every shop, seemingly appearing everywhere. Inevitably we (or, at least, I) begin to hate these songs, and in turn blame poor Mark for ever subjecting us to his music.

Mark is, of course, not to blame for this, but the people who think because a song is great we need to hear it every second, of every day, ever, definitely are.

But, I digress. Enough of rambling on about Mark Ronson, and to my original point: helping you all get your mid-week funk on.

Fortunately for me, I came to the Uptown Funk party late, and by the time I even realised it was a thing the song’s buzz was already beginning to fade, so I haven’t heard it a million-and-one times. It’s reminiscent of the great tunes that powered the 70s soul train, helped keep afros perfectly spherical and made flares cool despite all evidence to the contrary. Uptown Funk has of course been updated for the 21st century but stays true to the pillars of 70s funk: a great bass-line beat, an optimistic guitar riff and a charismatic front-man. Throw in some saxophone fun and you end up with something it’s impossible not to bob your head along to and imagine yourself donning a pink blazer about town (just me?)

Well, anyway, I hope this tune does act as a pill to fight the midweek blues. If you have already heard this and you’re sick of the sight of Bruno Mars – completely understandable – then I apologise and can assure you you’ll be back reading the wit and whimsy of either Paddy or Laurie tomorrow.

I hope that stream of consciousness was shambolic enough for you all; if not, check this wonderful mess of a scenario out.

Have a groovy day,

Love,

Zac x