The Joup Friday Album: The Residents ‘The Commercial Album’

The effect of music on the mind is allegedly secondary only to scent in its ability to transport one to the past. Since my teens I’ve had this project on the back-burner too sacred to discuss, where I seek out albums that transport me to another world. I’m not talking about your marijuana or ‘Wizard of Oz’ enhanced trip to the ‘Dark Side of the Moon’, rather that abstract artefact that clearly existed at some point in history, but for which you have no frame of reference; either in the form of anything that sounds comparable in your collection or contextualisation from anyone you’ve ever met.

The Joup Friday Album: SHELLAC ‘1,000 Hurts’

There are so many things to consider when the occasion calls for you to pluck an album out of your (re)collection, or hard drive and hold it up as representative of yourself and assure others it’ll be worthy of up to three quarters of an hour of their time. The scope for selection is so wide, I have to blinker this decision with some relevance either to previous posts, the fact that it’s a Friday, or maybe it just has to have an opening track that has you ensnared from the get go. This album has as memorable an opener as any.

The Sunday Song Poem #10 ‘Peace and Love (Blind Man’s Penis)’ Ramsey Kearney

Ramsey Kearney

Ramsey Kearney

Not having posted last week I feel an obligation to do so today, and as such feel as though I’m phoning-this-in somewhat, so it’s only fitting as we enter double figures for The Sunday Song Poem that we acknowledge, celebrate, or otherwise just get-out-of-the-way what is perhaps be considered both the Daddy and red headed stepchild of the whole phenomenon.  I’ve had a strained relationship with Ramsey Kearney‘s ‘Peace and Love’ (aka ‘Blind Man’s Penis’), stemming mostly from the fact that I long believed this to be as precious an exhibit of insanity as was evident in the last instalment, only to be enlightened by ‘Off The Charts: The Song Poem Story’ as to the fact that this particular song’s lyrics were intentionally so gorked.

BOB LOG III, Ruby Lounge Manchester England, April 24th 2014

BOBLOGBANNER
“N. Senada’s (Bavarian Composer -1907-1993) “Theory of Obscurity” states that an artist can only produce pure art when the expectations and influences of the outside world are not taken into consideration.”

I shouldn’t have to be writing this because you should have been there yourself. Luckily for you, Bob is a natural phenomenon that, like some integral celestial body circles the Planet Earth every year, so you can ensure you don’t miss him next time. Though maybe it’s us that orbits him. Anyway until next year…

The Sunday Song Poem #9 ‘Feeling Beside Myself’ Buddy Raye

feelingbesidemyself

Despite the papal canonisation today (broadcast in 3D to select cinemas and News channels, anyone catch that, did they have that swinging, incense lantern flying out atcha?), I feel like I should eschew the subject since I kind of already did the Holy Song Poem last Sunday. Not only that, but try as I might I couldn’t find a Song Poem for a Pope, which I find hard to believe having encountered a fair few about Richard Nixon, Elvis, Christopher Columbus, and Sexploitation actors turned male midwives. So instead I decided to just go straight for the crazy, literally in today’s case.

The (Easter) Sunday Song Poem #8 ‘The Man Called Jesus’ By Unknown Artist

Jesus

The Sunday Song Poem has been absent for a little while, but I’m back.

“14 Later, he appeared to them as they were eating; he rebuked them for their lack of faith and their stubborn refusal to believe those who had seen him after he had risen.

15 He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the Song Poems to all creation. 16 Whoever believes will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned.”

Joup’s Friday Album* – Clinic ‘3 EPs’

clinic_sle_34Friday night has appeared on the horizon, and we’ve completely shaken Thursday’s tail – I saw it get vacuumed into the vanishing point of the rearview mirror. So put ‘er in 5th, and gun that motherfucker to the liquor store, ’cause it’s the Joup Friday Album…or in today’s case, put the sprogs in bed, kick off your slippers for your outdoor shoes and pop to the Off License and get a few bevvies in, ’cause it’s the Joup Friday ‘3 EPs’ courtesy of four plucky young lads from Liverpool; we can never be sure whether they’ve had Mop Tops or not throughout their 15 year career, given their penchant for appearing decked out like The Medical Residents, resplendent in surgical caps, gowns and face masks.

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