Some interesting things turned up from you this week, not least a couple of impassioneddefences of the Robert Plant & Alison Krauss album, which seemed to be getting a rough ride from some unreconstructed old Led Zep fans.
Jimi Hendrix: Not Necessarily Stoned. . .But Beautiful
A few of us from the office went last night to the launch of the Jimi Hendrix Live At Monterey DVD and CD at the Hippodrome in Leicester Square, a swanky former nightclub now used for corporate events. I was last there for a party that followed IPC’s annual editorial awards, an event made especially memorable by a spectacular fall down a particularly steep flight of stairs, after which things become very vague, my memory of subsequent events – getting home, things like that – almost wholly non-existent.
I've been spending the past hour or so working my way through this soundtrack to Todd Haynes' Dylan movie, I'm Not There. I must admit to a bit of scepticism about the film, having actively despised Haynes' Velvet Goldmine, and been faintly terrified by the convoluted plotting and detail that was reported here.
There's a lot of static in the ether, as you may have detected, about the likelihood of a Led Zeppelin reunion sometime this autumn. That'd be nice, of course. But as I was listening to the new Robert Plant album for the first time this morning, it struck me: why would he bother going back there, when he's making records as good as this right now?
I mentioned in yesterday's blog about how much of a fan I am of Near Dark, Kathryn Bigelow's vampire noir that celebrates its 20th anniversary this year. To be honest, it's been flapping round by brain all day like a rabid bat, so I thought why not write about it...
Barely off site, but here’s how it was. Stephen Malkmus And The Jicks just wound it up on the main stage with the new addition of Sleater Kinney’s Janet Weiss behind the drum kit, and with a few choice words to some of their UK friends: “We endorse The Cribs, but not fucking Kasabian”.
Green Man. It’s all sylvan meadows, scampering deer, Hobits dancing in secluded woodland glades. Oh, OK, like all festivals this summer it’s a big sheet of grey mud and a big sheet of grey sky. But Green Man is different.
