skankdelvar

I did, but not in time.

Doubtless this may have been the case for many dab consumers and I wish them joy of it. But liquorice is a line beyond which I will not go and my aversion goes so far back that I cannot now recall its genesis. I may as a small child have once choked upon a Liquorice Allsort. Perhaps Bertie Bassett awakens an unreasoning primal animus deep in my psyche. It is all rather difficult and even discussing liquorice is putting me on edge. Deep breath in, deep breath out, deep breath in, deep breath out.

Above: Swiss chaps shuffle their feet nervously as someone turns up with the Alpenhorn equivalent of an SVT and an 8x10 cab.

TBPH when I first came to BassChat I was astonished by the rather narrow focus on bass guitars, bass amps and double basses. Where was the tuba section? What did the forum have against alpenhorns? Why nothing about those big f*ck-off church bells that go Bong rather than Bing? I was so disappointed I never came back.

'A consummation devoutly to be wished' ... as my old pal and wing-man Billy Spokeshave was wont to remark.

Well, it worked for me though to a much more limited extent than I had hoped. The secondary reasons I kept playing bass (and guitar) were because I enjoyed making loud noises, hanging out with a little gang and showing off in front of audiences. The issues of 'craft' and 'creativity' and 'commitment' didn't arise until later. About a month ago, if I'm honest.

To get laid.

Well, that would explain it. Can't stand liquorice either and here's how much: As a child I would buy a Barratts' Sherbet Dab, throw away the hated liquorice tube and then commence to neck the sherbet straight from the packet. In the aftermath I would be covered from head to foot in white powder, resembling no one so much as Mr Tony Montana after a serious night on the Charlie. Tony discovers sherbet dabs

Dave makes a valid point. Sections of the US media and political communities have long espoused an animus towards the partition of Ireland and - in consequence - failed (or chosen not) to see the much darker side of the romanticised Bold Fenian Rebels. It is a view which coloured American attitudes at the time and continues to obtain in certain circles ... and not just across The Pond. I think there was also a tendency in the 1960's for the counter-culture to view certain groups as 'freedom fighters' and to harbour a sympathy for those they considered to be outlaws opposed to The Man - this before the growth of international terrorism in the 1970's and the dawning realisation that not all these people were Robin Hood and His Merry Men dressed in berets and army surplus jackets. Combine the historical American animus toward The Brits In Ireland with the hippies' anti-establishment ideals and we can see how even as late as 1981 Mr Weir might have drifted without any great reflection into expressing a certain regret at Mr Sands' passing. I don't think Mr Weir was - or is - a terrorist sympathiser but like many Yanks of his generation he may have had a culturally-induced blind spot. Clarification: I am not giving Bob a pass because I'm a Grateful Dead fan. Au contraire. Can't stand them. NOI, Dave

Have some lessons. Learn some lyrics. Start a sideline band. Tell the bass player what notes he should play. Get slagged off here. Revel in the irony.

Indeed - there are considerably more accurate and insightful resources available for those who wish to study Sands. The slightly breathless and awe-struck tone of the piece in respect of Sands' lyrical and writing talents leads me to suspect that the author possibly has a smidgeon of an agenda. I've read some of Sands' poetry and - IMO - it's 'competent'.

I take your point entirely and raise the notion that there are multiple perspectives on successful bands. One perspective is - as you correctly identify - that any successful band deserves to be slagged off. It is a mean-spirited perspective but stems from human nature. Another perspective is that (i) any band that sticks around long enough will release a significant number of albums or singles (ii) the 'quality' or appeal of the material will vary (iii) there may be a detectable trend from 'good' to 'bad' and (iv) people will argue to the death about what's good and what's bad, particularly Bob Dylan fans. Comparatively 'unsuccessful' bands may issue only one or two albums before they fall from prominence. This makes it difficult to detect a trend. For example, I might observe that Bram Tchaikovsky's first album was better than his (their) second but the truth is that the single Girl Of My Dreams* is the only song that matters. By contrast we might look at The Be*tles, The Stones, Zep and many others, and conclude that there is an observable curve in the quality of these bands' output, the reasons for which are now the stuff of legend. Then there's AC/DC who have (to an extent) bucked the trend by simply releasing the same album over and over again**. * Written by Heavy Metal Kids bass player Ronnie Thomas - look out the YouTube vid about how he wrote it ** Yes, I know the first albums are bluesier, that Bon Scott is different to Brian Johnson in voice and lyrical theme, and that the band sags from the mid-80's to the mid-noughties but you know what I mean.

May we all agree not to tip Rose Morris off to their foolish mistake? To do so would deny generations unborn their opportunity to have a belly-laugh at the expense of a prominent and gullible music retailer who seems - perhaps - to go round lifting stuff from other peoples' web sites without checking the facts. In other news: GAK post a blog piece about Leon Trotsky's Shergold Meteor.

Sands Oldfield

Everything after Fables sucks a55. That is all.

You could have avoided this problem if you'd only thought to bring a pair of opera glasses with you. The traditional kind that come on a stick.

... against a black back-drop rather like those Czech puppeteers who at one time enjoyed a fleeting popularity on 1960's childrens' TV shows. The other usefulness of this approach is that if one is invisible both to the audience and one's bandmates it opens up the possibility of nipping offstage during the set for refreshments and / or a crafty Woodbine, without anyone being any the wiser.

It's OK, you didn't miss much, just some diagrams of the inner ear and some 'before and after' shots of an ear drum after a Motorhead gig. As a result a couple of people got triggered by the eardrum pix and went to the BC Safe Room and couldn't get in because @ped had the key and he was off down at Greggs getting a steak bake and all hell broke loose, these two crying and weeping anyway luckily @Richtipped up and he's got the knack for opening the door without a key and he opened the safe room door and there was no space to get in because someone had put the old photocopier in there. So basically the usual thing happened and some posts got removed.

I'd like to say that now - right now - is a golden age of music with an unceasing flow of new stuff that will please the ear. But that would be a lie. Commercially produced music (and I include popular classical music) is currently in a trough so deep you'd need a bathyscaphe to explore it. Let's try, anyway. Pop music is basically split three ways between (i) Large-bottomed ladies shrieking 'I'll suck you better than your girlfriend does' (ii) pallid, wistful, acoustic guitar-toting young men consumed by unrequited love (iii) stuff that's even worse, e.g., reunited Boy Bands on Zimmer frames. Or Christine and the Queens. Rock music is either re-packaged compilation albums or un-listenable tripe performed by old men or un-listenable tripe (in a different way) performed by young men. Heritage acts dominate the touring circuit; Metallica and the Foo Fighters are applying for their bus passes. Young rock acts perform in toilet venues to two barmen and a dog but it serves them f*cking right because they're either copies of bands from the 1970's or their material is un-listenable tripe. Minority genres like folk and jazz survive in their little bubbles of devoted acclamation. No one else gives a sh*t. Contemporary popular classical music is best exemplified by Mr Ludovico Einaudi, a baldy man who plays repeated minimalistic arpeggios on a piano while someone else sketches out a rudimentary violin part, all of it shoved through a cavernous reverb. Classic FM won't stop playing Einaudi or his similarly gormless cohort Mr Karl Jenkins. There are probably some areas of musical endeavour I've forgotten but who cares? Certainly not me and my cold, black heart. It's all sh*t. Stupid music for stupid people who like music for people who don't really like music. Now go away.

Bottom left, staring balefully north across the Bristol Channel at Wales.

NSFW link to a classic Viz strip here

Worrying, isn't it? Perhaps we should take a step backward and divert the course of discussion in another direction...

Poutine: A popular dish of French-Canadian origin comprising chips, brown gravy and cheese curds Top Tip For Easy Poutine: If they have't got cheese curds at your supermarket you can just substitute monkey spunk.