Justin “can’t think of a single thing to say” about Cameron’s speech. I can’t do much better. The only thing I took away from his performance is that neither he nor his speechwriters can own Stevie Wonder’s finest, seminal LP Innervisions. Or else they haven’t played it all the way through. Or if they have then they can’t have listened very closely to the lyrics. Anyway, I’ve had “He’s Misstra Know-It-All” buzzing around in my head since Cameron made his speech, so here are a few choice lines from the song.

• He’s a man / With a plan / Got a counterfeit dollar in his hand
  
• Makes a deal / With a smile / Knowin’ all the time that his lie’s a mile
  
• Must be seen / There’s no doubt / He’s the coolest one with the biggest mouth
  
• Any place / He will play / His only concern is how much you’ll pay
  
• If he shakes / On a bet / He’s the kind of dude that won’t pay his debt
  
• Take my word / Please beware / Of a man that just don’t give a care
  
• If we had less of him / Don’t you know we’d have a better land
  
• He’s Misstra Know-It-All (Look out he’s coming)
  

I find that last line quite chilling. Is this really what Cameron wants to be associated with? Was this done my accident or design? Let’s just hope that Cameron’s team are unaware of this song, since the alternative is that they know what they’re doing and they are giving themselves an option so that at some point in the future, as Cameron’s premiership dissolves in a solution of derision and resentment, they can turn around, refer us to that famous phrase from his historic 2008 conference speech, and say “well the clues were all there; don’t say we never warned you”.

Now, you may violently disagree with the conclusion that I have drawn here. If so then I respect that and I will know what you’re thinking; that this is just lazy blogging, that I’m being unfair and dismissive. Fair enough; but all I will say is that in all honesty, while I agree that both Talking Book and Songs In The Key Of Life are excellent works in their own right, I genuinely think that Innervisions just about has the edge.

James’ brand new album, “More Of The Same”, doesn’t so much build on the winning formula of his debut as simply cut and paste it. Of the sixteen tracks only eleven sound the same; existing fans will thrill to the inoffensive nothingness of the new songs that will steadfastly refuse to threaten or challenge preconceptions, while the very best his critics will manage is a lazy, world-weary shrug. Many of the tracks are guaranteed to be instantly forgotten the moment they are heard, and in the highly unlikely event that they don’t all just blur into one another it is probable that they will only be referred to, if ever, as simply “track four”, “the new single”, “that one they use on the Halifax advert” and “the last song on the CD, you know, the long boring one that goes on forever, that feels as if it will never finish, and then has a false ending”, rather than by their actual titles.

The album is preceded by the release of the single “This Year’s Dido”, which music scholars will instantly notice is in the same key and features an identical chord progression to all of James’ previous songs; his fans won’t notice this but they will still find the new song delightfully “hummy”. Hastily remixed with the addition of some jingle bells, and released not at all coincidently just before Christmas so as to maximise its potential to be purchased as an unwanted present by the sort of thoughtless buyer who is unaware of their friends’ musical taste and who forgets to keep receipts and so cannot return the CD but may instead buy a different recording by another Nonplussed artist to placate the original disgruntled recipient, “This Year’s Dido” is being released in as many formats as we think we can get away with.

Both “More Of The Same” and “This Year’s Dido” are available though Amazon, HMV and all good record shops, but for some strange reason not via the very poorly laid-out record company website, which concentrates on lots of flash animation at the expense of usability, and also features all sorts of pointless JavaScript gubbins that means each page takes an absolute age to load, resulting in a website that is actually completely useless in any practical sense.

And? Well on first listening In Rainbows is just fantastic. It kicks off with the sort of scattergun staccato drumbeat intro that tells us we’re in welcome and familiar territory, before settling down into an opening track that at times sounds like Doves, at other times seems reminiscent of late Talk Talk (which can be no bad thing) and that soon had me jigging around my kitchen (not what one expects from Radiohead. Or from me for that matter.) From there on in it seems quite the most instantly likeable Radiohead album since OK Computer, which may or may not be a good thing; with Kid A it took me a while to work out what the hell was going on, but it is now probably my favourite Radiohead album, while Hail To The Thief was more immediately accessible, but repeated listening revealed that after a great start it sags at about the quarter-way point, before picking up majestically towards the end. Overall, though, and interestingly considering the unconventional way it has been released, In Rainbows sounds more like one complete, flowing album rather than just a collection of individual songs bunged together as Amnesiac and (to a lesser extent) Hail To The Thief seemed to me. Often sounding pared down and minimalistic, and with more use of acoustic instruments than I rememeber previously, In Rainbows is not a radical shift or quantum leap as Kid A or OK Computer were, but it is rather a wonderful continuation of the unique brand of music Radiohead have been exploring down the years. Best of all, there appears no equivalent of “Treefingers” or “Fitter Happier” present to make you leap instantly for the skip button.

As is often the case with a brand new album it can be difficult to pick out your favourite songs at first, it can take time to isolate the individual standouts track from the album as a whole, not least of all because being without a CD cover to peer at and pore over while listening makes is harder to associate each song with its title at first; squinting at the LCD display on my MP3 player without the backlight doesn’t really do it. But perhaps it’s just me; I still find it takes me longer to become familiar with CDs today when compared with the old vinyl LPs of my youth, where you could play side one to death before gradually discovering and falling in love with the second side. Ah, the ceremony of easing the precious record out of the paper inner sleeve you have been studying on the bus all the way back from Woolworths, holding the delicate black vinyl horizontally between your fingertips, carefully reaching forward while blindly trying to locate the pin in the centre of the turntable and placing the album flat down, then gently resting the stylus on the spinning disc, the buzz and crackle as the needle seeks the groove, then the anticipation, the waiting for the new sounds the pristine recording will reveal. I miss it all, I really do.

Much has been made of the unusual way this album has been made available, for people to pay as much or as little as they like for it, and I think it could make an interesting study for a psychologist or perhaps a sociologist (I don’t really know the difference) to question what motivated each individual to pay what they did; as you have to provide your contact details prior to downloading I’m sure it could be arranged quite easily. Take Justin’s embarrassment in saying that after listening to it he is “now quite ashamed at the piffling amount I paid for it” while Swiss Toni excuses paying nowt because he felt he was owed after shelling out £30 for a crap Radiohead gig a few years ago; “debt paid, I would say” he concludes. I imagine an erring on the side of caution instinct predominates; better to pay too little and feel guilty than too much and feel like a fool (and where because you have chosen the price yourself you can’t even displace your grievance by complaining that you’ve been ripped off.) For myself, I paid a rather insulting £1, that with the 45p admin charge means it cost me about as much as my first 7” singles when I was a kid. My motivation was simply that, as I still like to own the tangible product, I reckoned I would eventually want to buy In Rainbows when it comes out on CD, and I’m damned if I’m going to pay full price twice for something I could get for free; at the same time I wasn’t sure I would like the album enough to stretch to the £40 being charged for the special discbox set. £1.45 seemed a fair down payment to sample what was on offer.

And so what was the upshot? Well after listening to the album several times I liked it so much that I went back onto the website (hence how I know it started running slow and finally crashed later in the day) and eventually, this morning, I went and ordered the £40 box set anyway. So I’ll get my 2 sides of vinyl after all (well, 4 sides actually) and another collectors’ item to continue my run of Kid A (with the hidden pamphlet in the box) Amnesiac (which came in the form of a “damaged” library book; even more damaged now after my young son ripped off the front page a few years back) and Hail To The Thief (packaged to resemble a town plan map). This means that it will be the third consecutive Radiohead album I possess that won’t fit in my CD rack. Hoorah! Is it sad to still be a bit of a record collector at my age? I think so, but at least The Boo Radleys have split up, so that particular pressure to purchase everything they ever released in every possible format has eased.

If you haven’t already downloaded In Rainbows, then I do recommend it. Sure, as a fan I’m biased, but this time what have you got to lose? Even if you don’t trust me, when was the last time you could guarantee value for money when buying a brand new album, or indeed anything? If in doubt just get it for free; go on, I’m sure they won’t mind.

In the meantime here is my gift to you; undoubtedly the best band of the year performing a cover version of surely one of the finest pop songs in recent years.

I shit you not.

PostScript: Coming soon…a post that is more than a photo or video clip. Perhaps.

It was a somewhat tongue-in-cheek review; Mr Thomas blighted an otherwise merely shit night for everyone in Stockport’s legendary Coco Savannah Night Club a good few years ago when he appeared on stage unadvertised to sing three tunes, one of which was merely a reprise of his first song. Now called Heaven And Hell, Coco’s is but a stone’s throw from where Paul chose to take his life.

Anyway, I loved Paul’s review, so here it is in its entirety, and for posterity. Just see what you make of it, and see what we are all missing.

What KT Did

This Best Of compilation serves as a timely reminder to fans of why Kenny was such a musical force and gives non-devotees a chance to sample his gloriously soulful vocal talents.

Of the 16 tracks here only 11 sound the same and KT still manages to infuse each one with passion, wit and meaning ( and dare I suggest magic as well? ) He is by turns smooth balladeer, playful seducter and even raucous groove-meister.

“Tender Love” sees our Kenny at his most visionary. I wonder just how many couples have fallen in or out of love to this haunting number? I’m sure I’m not the only one for whom this song holds precious memories. Kenny’s touching delivery will always remind me of that special weekend in Runcorn.

In the hands of a lesser talent ( Michael Bolton, Marvin Gaye etc ) “Trippin’ on your love” could be bland and forgettable drivel but Kenny lifts the song (and our spirits) with his stirring performance. As my parents generation used to say he truly does have “the groove” going on.

KT answers any suggestion that his sound is nothing more than watered down imagination-free pap with the sublime “Stay”, the delightful “Best of You” and the club party within a song that is “De Grooveski”.

All this plus the opening track- “Outstanding”- the hit that first brought KT to the attention of a grateful public. How many superlatives can be hurled at this great number?Any description I could think of would barely do it justice – suffice it to say it simply remains the glittering crown in Kenny’s family jewels, the creme de menthe of his blistering career.

I urge everyone to buy this CD or one quite like it. Let’s hope “Best Of” returns Kenny Thomas to the forefront of pop/soul/disco/karaoke – where he rightly belongs.

Here’s looking at you, our kid.

I do enjoy making my own videos and sharing them with my friends, but I think it is the illegal content bit I like the most; nothing especially dodgy, just stuff like old music videos and the like. I was amazed when I saw people posting about archive Howlin’ Wolf performances hosted on YouTube, and if they can find a home there then it makes me wonder where it will all end. As with Wikipedia, where it appears there is no subject too obscure for someone, somewhere to have created an entry, so in the fullness of time could just about every notable event ever filmed end up on YouTube (albeit buried alongside all manner of crap; but that is the way of the web)? Perhaps one day someone will post the moment on Children In Need in (I think) 1990 when my college mate Simon is supposed to have burst on stage and hugged Terry Wogan just as he was about to announce the final total. I’ve never seen the clip – that is if it happened and Simon wasn’t bullshitting, which he did have a habit of doing – and I’d love to.

With the deluge of content on YouTube, however, there is a definite benefit in having a minority taste. If you are a fan of Madonna, for example, you are buggered; 9242 clips to trawl through at the last count in the hope of finding a gem. A preference for Throwing Muses, however, means you just have 91 videos to weed out; and I have, watching loads of old promos and interviews I missed first time around.

Which reminds me; a few years back a mate and I were chatting about what we would like to do other than our current jobs. I mentioned running a bookshop, or perhaps a record shop; at which point Paul spat out his beer and creased up laughing.

“What? A record shop devoted exclusively to Throwing Muses and The Boo Radleys,” he said, those being my two favourite bands at the time (and still two of my favourites today), “I can’t see that being a commercial success”.

Perhaps not, but that doesn’t make the concept in itself wrong. So just in case I am made Music Dictator anytime soon, here is what you need to be prepared for. Don’t worry though; they are both very short tracks.

Throwing Muses: Juno

The Boo Radleys: Lazy Day

1. Joss Stone – You Got Me
One of my wife’s. You probably know this song already, if you know any of Joss Stone’s stuff at all. She can certainly carry a tune and this song follows the usual funky, soulful pattern of her output. It’s alright; I can take it or leave it, but given a choice I would leave it. Next.

2. Robert Johnson – I’m A Steady Rollin’ Man
As promised in this post, I finally bought my Robert Johnson CD and loaded it on the iPod, and the iPod thanked me by putting it second on the shuffle. This song is not one I am that familiar with, but it is instantly recognisable as the great man himself. Sure, most of his songs sound pretty much the same, following the rough and raw 12 bar blues template so beloved, but when the template sounds this good, why muck about with it?

3. David Gray – We’re Not Right
Another one of my wife’s; my heart sank when it popped on the iPod and I anticipated the usual David Gray dirge. I thought about skipping it, but when I saw its running time is less than 3 minutes long I decided to give it a try; and I am glad I did. Gray really seems to sing with feeling on this one, the song fair clips along with a great fuzzy bass line and what even sounds like a theramin solo. Perhaps I’d better give him another chance.

4. Crowded House – Not The Girl You Think You Are
One of “my” bands, but this is really a joint favourite. Their final single, I think, and one of their best, full of melodies reminiscent of Lennon, as usual. It provides many memories for me of the Hole in’t Wall pub in Bowness-on-Windermere which featured this song on its jukebox for many years, and which we played to death whenever we stayed in the Lakes.

5. Eliza Carthy – Willow Tree
Another one of my wife’s choices, but one I really like. Inspired by watching a BBC Four documentary on Martin Carthy and his family, we bought his daughter Eliza’s CD Anglicana and took it down to Cornwall when we holidayed there a few years back. The folky sound of the album was spot on while we stayed in a cottage in the middle of the countryside during a baking hot summer, and this up-tempo track was probably my favourite. There is a downside to listening to this CD however; once it gets into your head it is impossible not to slip into singing made-up-on-the-spot cod folk songs at the drop of a hat.

So perhaps our musical tastes aren’t too incompatible after all. Mind you, the next track up on the iPod was a 10 minute offering from Dido, definitely one of my wife’s choices, and someone who I cannot abide; so perhaps we just struck lucky.

So there you have it; give it a go yourself or don’t bother, as you see fit. It’s up to you.

They have broken all the rules and expectations of their musical genre. By now the typical boy band will have sacked their management and tried to run their own affairs (proving that as businessmen they make great pop idols); they will have experimented with different looks and sounds (with disastrous consequences); they will have tried to write their own songs (and will have failed, but still released them as singles); the interesting one in the band will have left for a solo career (an option not open to Westlife, who never actually had an interesting one); and then they will have split up (hurrah!).

But not Westlife; oh no, not they. Westlife have steadfastly and unquestioningly put into practice everything their management have instructed them to do. They are still wearing matching clothes as if dressed by their mothers, they still plonk themselves on stools while they intone their treacly ballads like some latter-day choreographed Val Doonicans (until they all stand up in unison for the “dramatic” final verse, like a troop of formation…oafs) and they are still happy to record insipid songs as chosen exclusively by their record company, be it cover versions unworthy of revival (eg. Mandy, Against All Odds) or “original” tracks that appear to have been written by committee (eg. Flying Without Wings, whose title even conjures up an image of a corporate brainstorming session, complete with flowchart, trying to combine the counterfeit emotion of Wind Beneath My Wings with the sheer blandness of I Believe I Can Fly).

Yes, congratulations Westlife, and many happy returns; now we know how Boyzone’s career would have turned out if they had been paying attention in class.

Robert Johnson was a blues singer and guitarist who died in 1938, aged around 27, and it would be interesting to consider just how popular music would have developed without him. Although he made just a handful of recordings, they directly inspired the Chicago blues boom centred around the Chess label that produced such acts as Howlin’ Wolf and Muddy Waters in the 1950′s. It was these acts that caught the imagination of many artists in the 1960′s and 1970′s and hugely influenced music during that period. Many of the biggest bands during that time, such as The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin, were pretty much just blues acts when they started up. Robert Johnson’s own songs have been covered by the Stones (Love In Vain), Led Zep (Travelin’ Riverside Blues), Cream (Crossroads Blues) even the Red Hot Chilli Peppers (They’re Red Hot).

Most of all I am glad I listened to the programme because it may be the spur I need to replace my old vinyl copy of “Robert Johnson – 20 Blues Greats” with a brand spanking new CD of The Complete Collection. Then I can transfer it onto the iPod mini my wife has recently obtained.

There is something wonderful about the thought of Robert Johnson on an iPod. Here is a cutting edge piece of equipment, a full 2 gb of recording space, small enough to sneak into your pocket, a sleek and beautiful design; and I can use it to listen to a raw piece of music nearly seventy years old, produced alone by a man who possessed just a guitar, a bottleneck and a haunting, eerie falsetto voice, recorded on what sounds like a primitive box stuck in the corner of the room.

I suppose a full breakdown of the statistics could tell a different story. How many people usually buy a copy of The Who’s Then and Now on an average day? Not very many I suspect, so it wouldn’t take too many people to wander into HMV on Sunday asking “do you know who did that song that goes ‘who are you, who, who, who, who’” to register a 863% rise in sales.

I am no great fan of either Pink Floyd or The Who (You want endless guitar solos? Try Led Zeppelin. Want to learn about the early days of the mods? Small Faces did it so much better) but at least I can understand how a young whipper snapper brought up on Crazy Frog could watch their Live 8 sets and be inspired to hear more.

Annie Lennox’s Greatest Hits though? Who on earth was moved by her insipid performance to buy that album? Judging by the neat, round rise in sales of 500% I reckon just five, on top of the usual one person who likely buys it for their mum’s birthday (as I did, several years ago).

And increases of 412% for Dido and 320% for Robbie Williams are a bit baffling. Hasn’t Dido sold enough CDs yet? Is there anybody out there yet to discover her line in bland, inoffensive dirge? On the basis of these statistics, yes; some people’s eyes and ears were opened by her performances on Saturday. I just hope no one is expecting to hear Seven Seconds, as they are likely to be disappointed.

As, I suspect, are those who have bought Razorlight’s Up All Night. There are some good tracks there, but much of it is a mediocre muchness, and one of their best songs (Somewhere Else) isn’t on it.

If I am moved to buy anything by the groups on display it is likely to be the Kaiser Chiefs. They were great and the highlight of Live 8 for me, a short, sweet set of real energy. Although I fear a whole CD may get a bit repetitive and samey, I may give it a try. And anyway, I will happily pogo about my living room to Oh My God even if the Philadelphia crowd did inexplicably stand motionless and inert throughout.