A 'blue moon', technically, is a second full moon occurring within a month of a previous full moon. And there's one today. Which is not only Hogmanay, obviously, but also my 54th birthday.
The lists thing began yesterday with 'my top ten live albums of all time' and then provoked a couple of old pals (Douglas Small and Phil Blakeman) into requiring my top ten ALBUM albums of all time. As by that time it was mid-evening and I was already celebrating my impending birthday, it was an off-the-top-of-the head, three-glasses-of-sweet-sherry attempt, which you can find at the end of this post. I see no reason to retract. I will go along with Phil's list, though (also reproduced), as excellent in every way other than Robin Trower (bad cape) and Anita Baker (one good song.
Anyway, this is just for fun. Enjoy, disagree, fulminate and agitate. And have a good time tonight.
Tom's Top Ten Albums of the (ie,made in this) Decade:
(in no particular order)
The Killers: Hot Fuss
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: Dig, Lazarus, Dig!
Hello Saferide: More Modern Short Stories From Hello Saferide
Lambchop: Is a Woman
Ryan Adams: Gold
Bob Dylan: Love and Theft
Elbow: The Seldom Seen Kid
Paolo Nutini: Sunny Side Up
Elvis Perkins: Ash Wednesday
Arcade Fire: Funeral
(lurking: The Hold Steady: Boys and Girls in America; Moby: Wait for Me; Amy Winehouse: Back to Black (and not 'Back In Black' which is someone else entirely)
Tom's Top Ten Tracks of the Decade
The Killers: All These Things That I've Done
Arcade Fire: No Cars Go
Paolo Nutini: Growing Up Beside You
Idlewild: American English
Elvis Perkins: Ash Wednesday
Elbow: Grounds for Divorce
Bruce Springsteen: Radio Nowhere
Bob Dylan: Mississippi
Hello Saferide: Anna
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: More News From Nowhere
(lurking: Frightened Rabbit's Swim Until You Can't See Land; Ryan Adams' version of Wonderwall; Amy Winehouse: Rehab)
Tom's Plucked from Mid-Air Top Ten Albums of All Time
Darkness on the Edge of Town - Springsteen
Funeral - Arcade Fire
Blue - Joni Mitchell
London Calling - Clash
Humans - Bruce Cockburn
The Las
Steve Earle - Guitar Town
Van Morrison - Veedon Fleece
Live 1966 - Bob Dylan
A Walk Across the Rooftops - Blue Nile
Different tomorrow. Costello first somewhere. Hank Williams Health and Happiness Hour. Waits Asylum Years, etc etc
(on reflection, Spotlight on Al Green would be in there, the Greatest Seduction Album Ever(!) Also Out On the Floor Tonight (Stateside Northern Soul compilation)and that great Atlantic/Stax four album set).
Phil Blakeman's Top Ten (roughly) Albums of All Time
Blood on the Tracks - Bob Dylan
Rapture - Anita Baker
Into the Music - Van Morrison
Poet 2 - Bobby Womack
Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen
Heartattack & Vine - Tom Waits (if we are not allowing greatest hits) Last Record Album - Little Feat Argus - Wishbone Ash Robin Trower Live Tonight's the Night - Neil Young Average White Band (first album) Royal Scam - Steely Dan 10 Easy Pieces - Jimmy Webb Hats - Blue Nile Every Picture Tells a Story - Rod Stewart
For the moment, that's all folks! But as I say. It may all be different tomorrow...
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
The top ten live albums of all time...as they occur to me this minute
Following on from a non-sequitur on yesterday's show, and the news (thanks, Mike Ritchie) that Van Morrison is a father again at the age of 64 (to George Ivan Morrison III, dead spit of his dad, poor wee sod), it occurred to me that the Top Ten Live Albums of All Time might be an interesting notion to pursue...so, off the top of my head (and revealing a sad nostalgia for the 70s and beyond):
(1) It's Too Late To Stop Now - Van Morrison and the Caledonia Soul Orchestra
(2) Live in Europe - Rory Gallagher
(3) Bootleg Series: Live 1966 - Bob Dylan
(4) Live - Randy Newman
(5) Live 1975-1985 - Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
(6) Get Yer Ya-Yas Out - Rolling Stones
(7) Live at Folsom Prison - Johnny Cash
(8) Live at Leeds - The Who
(9) My Feet Are Smiling - Leo Kottke
(10)Before the Flood - Bob Dylan and the Band
....and I have to admit that in my admittedly dodgy opinion, Wings Over America, Bob Dylan At Budokan, the 1964 Dylan Bootleg series live album, and Bruce Cockburn's Slice O'Life are lurking just outside...
(1) It's Too Late To Stop Now - Van Morrison and the Caledonia Soul Orchestra
(2) Live in Europe - Rory Gallagher
(3) Bootleg Series: Live 1966 - Bob Dylan
(4) Live - Randy Newman
(5) Live 1975-1985 - Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band
(6) Get Yer Ya-Yas Out - Rolling Stones
(7) Live at Folsom Prison - Johnny Cash
(8) Live at Leeds - The Who
(9) My Feet Are Smiling - Leo Kottke
(10)Before the Flood - Bob Dylan and the Band
....and I have to admit that in my admittedly dodgy opinion, Wings Over America, Bob Dylan At Budokan, the 1964 Dylan Bootleg series live album, and Bruce Cockburn's Slice O'Life are lurking just outside...
Hi-Viz and getting down to broadcasting basics
Strange time of year; strange days. In between Christmas and New Year, loads of people on holiday, loads of people mildly or very drunk, loads of people hungover, shopping, dreaming, playing with new Santa delievered toys.
The Tom Morton Show has always gone for live as opposed to pre-recorded when it comes to the festive season, basically due to a recognition by all concerned,I think, that I'm really, really crap at pre-records. Unless we're talking highly structured, carefully written mega productions like the recent alcohol endeavours. I sometimes think I've developed such a tolerance to adrenalin after the years of live broadcasting that without the mild threat of disaster a live show brings, the tamped-down rush, there isn't the concentration or energy to produce the requisite performance.
So I really don't mind the two hours of live TMS each day, while other presenters are at home or engaged in apres-ski at their Alpine chalets. No, that's not resentment. I hate ski-ing. One agonising weekend in Aviemore was enough.
I suppose this live broadcasting lark is a bit like exercise. Once you're running or cycling or Pilates-ing daily, missing a session leaves you feeling...naggingly incomplete. Two hours of inconsequential nattering between records, waiting for either wit or witlessness to come out of your own mouth, gets to be a habit.
Of course, you can (and regularly should) get over this. That's called a holiday, when you can go through adrenalin detox and the Powers That Produce can try out potential replacement presenters. And there's loads of them about. I used to worry about this - after all, that's the path into Radio Scotland I trod myself - but what's the point? If the worst comes to the worst I can always get on eBay and start flogging all those free CDs I've accrued over the years (only joking! These days, compliance rules mean that surplus CDs aren't even given to charity shops; they're landfilled).
Actually, what I wanted to write about today was Hi-Viz jackets, and the way that, during these strange half-lit, snow-filled days, everything is reduced to the absolute essentials of existence: Get up, check the (cold) weather. Breakfast, do news and web checks, dogs out, dogs in, dress. No-one cares what I look like. Radio Shetland's shut, there's nobody there but the occasional painter. And me in the self-op studio. The only people I'll be speaking to, save family, are listening to the radio. So it's the uber-practical approach. And in Shetland, potentially lifesaving: Old jeans, thick socks, Raichle hiking boots, t-shirt, jumper (hoodie for prime comfort) hat, British Army tank commander gloves, padded Hi-Viz jacket, 20 quid from North Eastern Farmers. Warm and in darkest daylight Shetland, the only thing that prevents a pedestrian being pulped.
Transport? Not the classic Merc, which is rubbish anyway and still in the garage. Not the newish Citroen, which is hopeless in the snow. Got to be the crude-as-a-brick Isuzu pick-up truck, noisier than a cement mixer and almost as fast. Old, rusty but with everything in it working perfectly. That'll do. Overnight bag in case I get really stuck. Food, shovel, de-icer. Into town, 35 miles. Broadcast. Come back.
Broadcast: how does that function? A producer and an engineer are in Aberdeen, connected to the Big Aerial in Glasgow. I have a list of songs, all stored on the mainframe computer, somewhere deep below Wick. A playlist for daytime broadcasting is compiled weekly in Glasgow, although me and the producers can mess with it, to an extent. I'm checking and listening all day for stuff that I can talk about, and more importantly, that the listener might be interested in. Being connected is the thing. All media, old, nearly new: papers, radio, telly, internet. Family stuff, local news, dog behaviour. Sometimes it works well, sometimes it just works. Facebook and Twitter have changed the relationship with the audience over the past year. There are regular listeners, erudite, clever folk with funny tales and suggestions for topics we could discuss. Interactivity? You got it. We need it.
So there we are. Broadcasting a two hour live music show, stripped down to basics. I still love it, of course. In a curious way, especially at this strange time of year.
The Tom Morton Show has always gone for live as opposed to pre-recorded when it comes to the festive season, basically due to a recognition by all concerned,I think, that I'm really, really crap at pre-records. Unless we're talking highly structured, carefully written mega productions like the recent alcohol endeavours. I sometimes think I've developed such a tolerance to adrenalin after the years of live broadcasting that without the mild threat of disaster a live show brings, the tamped-down rush, there isn't the concentration or energy to produce the requisite performance.
So I really don't mind the two hours of live TMS each day, while other presenters are at home or engaged in apres-ski at their Alpine chalets. No, that's not resentment. I hate ski-ing. One agonising weekend in Aviemore was enough.
I suppose this live broadcasting lark is a bit like exercise. Once you're running or cycling or Pilates-ing daily, missing a session leaves you feeling...naggingly incomplete. Two hours of inconsequential nattering between records, waiting for either wit or witlessness to come out of your own mouth, gets to be a habit.
Of course, you can (and regularly should) get over this. That's called a holiday, when you can go through adrenalin detox and the Powers That Produce can try out potential replacement presenters. And there's loads of them about. I used to worry about this - after all, that's the path into Radio Scotland I trod myself - but what's the point? If the worst comes to the worst I can always get on eBay and start flogging all those free CDs I've accrued over the years (only joking! These days, compliance rules mean that surplus CDs aren't even given to charity shops; they're landfilled).
Actually, what I wanted to write about today was Hi-Viz jackets, and the way that, during these strange half-lit, snow-filled days, everything is reduced to the absolute essentials of existence: Get up, check the (cold) weather. Breakfast, do news and web checks, dogs out, dogs in, dress. No-one cares what I look like. Radio Shetland's shut, there's nobody there but the occasional painter. And me in the self-op studio. The only people I'll be speaking to, save family, are listening to the radio. So it's the uber-practical approach. And in Shetland, potentially lifesaving: Old jeans, thick socks, Raichle hiking boots, t-shirt, jumper (hoodie for prime comfort) hat, British Army tank commander gloves, padded Hi-Viz jacket, 20 quid from North Eastern Farmers. Warm and in darkest daylight Shetland, the only thing that prevents a pedestrian being pulped.
Transport? Not the classic Merc, which is rubbish anyway and still in the garage. Not the newish Citroen, which is hopeless in the snow. Got to be the crude-as-a-brick Isuzu pick-up truck, noisier than a cement mixer and almost as fast. Old, rusty but with everything in it working perfectly. That'll do. Overnight bag in case I get really stuck. Food, shovel, de-icer. Into town, 35 miles. Broadcast. Come back.
Broadcast: how does that function? A producer and an engineer are in Aberdeen, connected to the Big Aerial in Glasgow. I have a list of songs, all stored on the mainframe computer, somewhere deep below Wick. A playlist for daytime broadcasting is compiled weekly in Glasgow, although me and the producers can mess with it, to an extent. I'm checking and listening all day for stuff that I can talk about, and more importantly, that the listener might be interested in. Being connected is the thing. All media, old, nearly new: papers, radio, telly, internet. Family stuff, local news, dog behaviour. Sometimes it works well, sometimes it just works. Facebook and Twitter have changed the relationship with the audience over the past year. There are regular listeners, erudite, clever folk with funny tales and suggestions for topics we could discuss. Interactivity? You got it. We need it.
So there we are. Broadcasting a two hour live music show, stripped down to basics. I still love it, of course. In a curious way, especially at this strange time of year.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Sea level snow at daybreak.
Woken for some reason at 5.00 am to find snow falling in shovelfuls. It was, thankfully, a shower, not a Narnian Event. The roads have, as usual in Shetland, been cleared and gritted. Scandinavian welfare state, you see. Still, should be an interesting trip into Lerwick.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Robert Stewart's CCTV birdboxes in Shetland
These magically quirky CCTV birdboxes are sculptures built by the Glasgow-based architectural model maker Robert Stewart. They were part of Susan's Christmas (after much heart-stopping trepidation on my part, she loved them)and are now installed inside and outside our house. You can buy them from Glasgow's superb Recoat Gallery in North Woodside Road. Many thanks to Amy for getting them here in time for Christmas Day.
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