Lazland playlist

Saturday night, half an hour before England's first World Cup game. It has been a busy old day....

I got up early (for a Saturday) and watched England come so close to beating the All Blacks. It was 28-27, and an incredible game of rugby. For those of you reading my blog who love the game, all I can say is get your money on England to win next year's World Cup now anti-post. Lancaster is a genius of a coach.

Wales had a heavy defeat later to South Africa, and deservedly so. We are going backwards. Time for a serious rethink about the whole structure and attitude of the game here.

So, to tonight's musical delights prior to the footie.

I decided tonight would be a classic Genesis night to start. The mix I chose was exclusively Gabriel era, and went like this:

The Lamb sides one & two. I went bonkers to Hairless Heart blasting out of the new sound system.

From Selling England, Firth of Fifth, Hackett's finest hour, and The Cinema Show, a gorgeous piece about young love, and mature advice. This itself morphed into the achingly beautiful Aisle Of Plenty, a paean to a disappearing country.

Supper's Ready. A collection of songs, rather than a single epic. Gabriel always said this was a rehearsal for The Lamb. I have always thought he understated a magnificent piece, which remains, to me, a beautiful tribute to humanity and God.

The Musical Box. I first heard this as an adolescent fourteen year old. I had purchased And Then There Were Three, and was told by a contemporary, about a couple of years older, to not pay too much attention, and get some "proper" 

Prog! When I heard this, I fell in love, and it remains to this day my favourite Genesis track from my favourite Genesis album. English to its core, but so mature in its treatment of a love unrequited, and never realised.

To finish, The Knife. A bunch of English public school boys tapping into the zeitgeist of the times, singing, and rocking, the revolution. 

After that, it was Marillion live, with a DVD sent to me by those grand chaps at the web. The selection played was the wonderful Thos Strange Engine, featuring perhaps the finest guitar solo of all time, Afraid of Sunlight, from an album which, had it been made by anyone else, would have stormed the world, and, to finish, The Great Escape, the emotional conclusion to the Brave story.

After that, I was supposed to post the blog. However, after four pints of Cwrw Blasus, and three glasses of wine, the old Lazland eyelids started to get heavier and heavier.

Yep, I missed the football, fell asleep, not waking up until 2.00 a.m. This blog, therefore, is being posted a wee bit late

Judie www.tzuke.com

Welcome to the Cruise was a fantastic debut album, and did quite well commercially over here.

In the last week, or so, Judie has featured on BBC Radio a little bit, so is still keeping a nice profile a fair few years after that album.

Off to sunny Bristol for a team meeting today. It is rather silly, the setup in my team. We have people in Gloucester (sort of southern Midlands of England), Taunton, Bristol (SW England), Cardiff (capital of Wales), Swansea (SW Wales), and me in proper West Wales, or God's Own Country as it is more properly referred to in these parts. However, with the increasing centralisation and urbanisation of both the organisation I work for, and the country in general, this will, in the near future, be reduced to merely two locations, namely Bristol and Cardiff. That basically means either more job losses, or a ridiculously long commute, the alternative to this being flexible working patterns at, for example, home, although I despair of this ever being properly introduced.

The train journey for me today is a total of six hours, i.e. three each way, this owing to the fact that the Welsh infrastructure is basically akin to something Pooh and Tigger would find primitive.

So, then, after sort of chilling with the newspaper and BBC Radio Five via an iPad App, the music went on, and the first of today's delights was Panic Room's latest, Incarnate, given a four star review by me a little whole back. A superb album, which improves on each listen.

And so, after a fascinating, informative, stimulating, corporate joy of life fulfilling meeting, the journey home, which was planned perfectly in order to arrive home about 6.00 p.m. this allowing a good hour for a drinkie at the local with son and dog prior to supper. One has to get one's priorities right, you know!

First album on journey home was Steve Hackett's debut, Voyage of the Acolyte. It is hard to think that next year, this rather interesting album will be 40 years old. It is not my favourite of his (that, I think, is probably Spectral Mornings or Genesis Revisited), but it is, nonetheless, a lovely album fully in keeping with Hackett's contributions to Genesis at the time. I haven't reviewed much Hackett, and really ought to do so, when I get the time.

Change trains at Cardiff for the perennially late Swansea train. Sitting opposite me is Gareth Thomas, a mighty fine (retired) Welsh rugby player, who also has the distinction of being the first major rugby star to come out as gay. I did not say anything. I am not comfortable with bothering people when they might not appreciate being bothered. Musical pleasure was Sylvan's Force of Gravity. This is yet another album not reviewed (I really must retire from work and get on with it!). I adore this band, and this release from 2009 is an excellent one. Not in the same sphere as the seminal Posthumous Silence or Sceneries, but solid, with much of that goose bump inducing wall of sound they create. Good news is that 2014 will see the release of new album, Home. A must buy for me. I did actually have the pleasure and privilege of interviewing members of the band for the site, and you can see this at page four of the Interviews section on the forum.

And so to the final part of the journey, the wonderfully on time Swansea to Carmarthen train, and for final musics this fine summer evening, The Who, Endless Wire. Their last studio album, now, of course, reduced to a duo following Entwistle's departure from this mortal coil in delicious old rocker style, this was released in 2006. It is a good effort, made doubly so when you come to an acceptance that they were simply never, ever, going to make the likes of Who's Next, Quadrophenia, and etc again. As a late period piece of work, it is representative, as clever as you would expect music written by Pete to be, and enjoyable. This is my first listen to it in a long while.

Nigh on a whole week again since the last blog. I suppose it's a jolly good job that it was never meant to be a daily thing. Worst still, I could be failing a corporate target for blogging output.

The reason for the absence is my mother being rushed into hospital (on the night of my last blog, after I got home), with serious breathing issues. Transpires she has had a bout of pneumonia, and she is expected to remain in hospital for a couple more days, just to clear all remaining infection. She is, though, hugely improved since the scare last week, and looked really good tonight, and was in fine, fighting, form.

I don't know. Living longer does, naturally, bring a societal celebration, but it does come at a bit of a cost in terms of problems later in life. I don't mean to sound harsh, but it is not long ago that most people simply died quickly with a sudden rush of pain to the chest, and, lights out, all over. Sometimes, I really do feel it might have been better that way.

Anyhow, I decided to have a small montage before going to bed. It is 9.42 p.m. as I write this passage of the blog.

First up is the Fly From Here Suite from the last Yes album, or side one as we called it in the good old days. I play this in anticipation of the forthcoming album which, judging from the comments from those who have either obtained it illegally, or got a promo copy (it will be 98% former, 2% latter), is a pile of old pants. I will keep an open mind, although my opinion about Yes without Jon Anderson is well known on this site.

Having said that, I think the FFH suite is superb, a gorgeous creation from the era which I rather loathed (Drama), and Benoit David, especially, comes out of it with huge credit. Pity about the rest of the album, really, which I found very ordinary.

Next up, Van Der Graaf, Every Bloody Emperor, the highlight from the reunion album, Present. By and large, I have not been overly impressed with the new material, but this is classic VDGG, with Hamill, especially, in fine spitting form in a dark commentary on the pitiful state of modern politics.

Next up, one of my favourite instrumentals of all time, Charm by Tony Banks from an album I have a huge soft spot for, Fugitive, in spite of the fact that Banks sings quite a bit on it, and, palpably, cannot sing for toffee. This track, though, showcases what he is best at, namely dexterous fingers with a touch of English whimsy. Just love it.

I don't know what led me after that to put on The Watchmaker, from Steven Wilson's superlative The Raven That Refused To Sing (And Other Stories). I am just glad I did. This is such a delicately beautiful piece of music, from an album which made me fall in love again with a talent beyond most of our comprehension. Like most meaningful love affairs, the emotions go up and down, and The Incident was absolutely a down for me. This album, though, is one of the most important, and finest, progressive rock albums ever made. I just love the dark, swirling, Mellotron at the end.

Richard Thompson. Mr Stupid. A great track from the great former Fairport man, this the highlight of the 2007 release, Sweet Release. Bags of fun, with extremely clever lyrics.

From that to...Ozzy Osbourne. Mr Crowley. Don't ask me why. I just did. Actually, I did see that Sabbath are playing Hyde Park (this week?) shortly, so I suppose it was at the back of my mind. Personally, I think this album, his debut solo effort, is his finest work ever. He had to literally drag himself off of the floor after being sacked by Sabbath for being too out of it even for them (a phenomenal achievement, when you think of it), and produced an album that was vibrant, urgent, full of feeling, and featured the debut of the much missed Randy Rhodes, who shines on this track. Forget the dog days of Sabbath, and the solo stuff when rampant commercialism took hold, before something akin to dementia ravaged him, this is a Black Country working class man fighting back, and bloody marvellous it is, too.

King Crimson. Red. The title track from the album many still regard as being the finest heavy rock album of all time. It is most certainly up there. I still think this is the finest of this particular Crimson phase, and I have a great deal of sympathy with John Wetton, who felt particularly aggrieved at Fripp calling it a day, just as the band were on the verge of huge and great things, breaking out of the world of cult status. Oh well, there is always the option of starting a commercial behemoth named after a continent to fall back upon, I suppose.

And, to finish...The Levellers. This Garden. Because I enjoy, and it is a celebration of life and the values that I used to hold so dear before I became a grumpy old git. Note to self......don't be such a grumpy old git!

Once again, my grateful thanks to all of you who read, and contribute to, this chronicle of mine.

Nos da. 22.49. Time for bed, Zebedee. BTW, wife has put news on. Rolf Harris found guilty of child abuse. End of civilisation. Time to go back to being a grumpy old git..

As far as I am concerned, more power to old farts!

You will love Orford, believe me. The Old Road is a fantastic album.

 

 

I reckon we definitely have to have just a couple of tubes from the album embedded here, so here are the very ones that Laz listened to: