On logic

You know, working your way through the midden of your own psyche is a little bit like popping a champagne cork. There's no telling just quite how much is going to come out once you get the first line of defence out of the way. I've just had something of a revelatory moment, so this is going to be another one of those posts, filling your no doubt already heaving RSS readers. However, this is my blog so my question to anyone who's not interested or comfortable with it is, what are you doing here?

I studied logical philosophy at university, you know. But even that seems unable to save me from this little humdinger which I now realise dominates the majority of my social interactions, be they with friends or strangers. It goes:

I like it when that (e.g. email, message, card, free sausage, etc.) happens to me. So, extrapolating all of this available data, I can conclude that if I were to send/give/do that (e.g. email, message, card, free sausage) to someone else, they would hate it and resent my intrusion.

This frankly bewildering piece of thinking informs so many of my decisions that it's probably not even funny any more. The ironic thing is that as a child I would spend hours or days pondering, in a very Cartesian way I'll have you know, what it's like to be someone else. There's a good chance that this time may have been wasted. At the very least it could be said the conclusions I drew from it are perhaps faulty in some regards.

I imagine that, on more than one occasion, this piece of deductive reasoning has led people to think that I'm a little cold or stand-offish, whereas really I've been as giddy as a baby goat, wound up like a coiled spring in the corner waiting to boing into action if and when I'm beckoned to do so.

Of course, some people are more proactive than others and some people have more natural leadership skills. But it's that thing again: balance. My general tendency to ping between extremes and ignore the middle ground rarely serves me well. But it also makes me who I am and, when I look around even a damn fool deducer like me is able to see that who I am is a thoroughly worthwhile person.

I think that recently I've been getting a lot better at this. And I'm proud of that. I should be proud of that. Judging by the general response I've had I also reckon that I'm actually managing to find a reasonable level of keeping in touch without ever becoming too much of a chore. It may even be because of this series of blog posts that I'm finding this more possible - this place acts like an overflow of the bilge, fish heads and crazy that could otherwise make me a bit of a handful.

That's right, I'm making you all suffer so that I can maybe suffer a little less day by day. And I don't care. Hah!

Snack foods by Royal Appointment

Yesterday I got to thinking about whether or not the Royal Family would ever have eaten Monster Munch. I reached a worrying conclusion. I can't imagine any members of the Royal Family ever having eaten any maize-based snack treats.

I think that this is something of a problem for an institution that faces a continual struggle to remain relevant to modern Britain. If the Royal Family are flesh and blood like all of their subjects, there's no way on earth that they could resist Frazzles, Chipsticks or Wotsits. Their continual failure to do so seems to me to be a tacit admission on their part that they are different from, superior to, their subjects.

From the point of view of transparency, I should point out at this stage that I have no data to prove my thesis, only what I have observed and deduced. Here's a list of the key Royals with the snack foods I can honestly imagine them having ever eaten.

HRH Queen Elizabeth II

Mini-poppadums. Ready salted Kettle Chips.

HRH The Duke of Edinburgh

Petit Mignons, onion flavour. But he didn't enjoy them.

HRH The Prince of Wales

Bombay mix.

HRH The Duchess of Cornwall

Snack-a-Jacks.

HRH The Duke of Cambridge

None.

HRH The Duchess of Cambridge

Twiglets.

HRH Prince Harry of Wales

The hero of the clan. All flavours of Walkers and Golden Wonder crisps, including any special charity edition flavours. Mini-poppadums. Chilli rice crackers. Monster Munch (all flavours). Space Invaders. Scampi Fries. Frazzles. Chipsticks. Wheat Crunchies (all flavours). Pringles. Square crisps. Discos. Tubes. Mini-Cheddars.

HRH The Duke of York

Cheese footballs.

HRH The Earl of Wessex

Ritz crackers.

I'm not a republican. But I feel that if the Royals continue to scorn us with their stand-offish refusal to eat crisps I probably will become one.

On being great

This is a blog post I promised myself I'd write as an editorial counterblast to all the ones recently outlining my failings. This is about the things I admire about myself. And as I'm doing it as a list it's more me than any of the others.

1. I am nice. Properly nice, too. None of that pretend nice in order to get things. At the very least I'll be polite and discrete, and with people I know and trust I can be a delightful person. Nice is an underrated quality, I think.
2. I am funny. In all ways and in all meanings of the word. I will make people laugh somehow and that's a pretty good thing to be able to say.
3. Children and animals like me. They are very straightforward judges of character, too. They don't go in for politics, politeness or hidden agendas.
4. I am talented but more importantly I am generous with it. I love to give away the things I produce to my friends. They hardly ever complain at all.
5. I'm different. I'm not your typical male stereotype. And men bewilder me, so this fact makes me happy.
6. I like to be kind. Some people find this a little disarming. Many people accuse me of fishing for compliments in kind or such like which I find very upsetting because it's really never been my intention at all.
7. I don't play politics. There's no greatness of spirit at work here particularly, I just don't understand the way they work so have given up trying.
8. People and things genuinely interest, fascinate and excite me. I retain a childlike enthusiasm for many things.
9. Reading this list makes me a little uncomfortable and unsure if I want to post it. I think that may be the best quality I have of all. Now it's a question of finding the right balance.
10. I had to put a tenth thing in because I love lists.

Amish Man

I'm not someone who is particularly up on the whole superhero comic genre, but I nevertheless saw a gap in the market and pounced. I'm more pleased with this than conventional logic suggests I should be. Introducing Amish Man:

(Click the picture for full-size)

I can't tell you how exhausting I find doing something like this to be. I suppose it's a combination of nervous energy, creative energy and walking the ever-present tightrope of not screwing it up.

It may also be that I am hideously unfit.

On being needy

I think I use Twitter wrong.

Not necessarily in the sense that I don't know how to put words in it. However, I think I've lost sight of its purpose. Back in the day (4th February 2007, to be precise) when I was - for once in my online life - a reasonably early adopter of Twitter, it was a very different place. The chief reason is that there were no @replies.

This was frankly dashed inconvenient and is probably the reason why they were introduced. But it's made me start to use it as if it were a giant instant messenger conversation. And that's a problem, for me at least.

I have used IM a lot in my time. It is undeniably a very useful thing and there are a number of things happening in my life currently that make it clear that I will probably use it again. However, I think along very set lines, and IM presents challenges to this. I would sign in of an evening with a view to talking to maybe one or two specific people and end up talking to five or six. None of this is a problem insofar as they were all people I enjoyed speaking to. Why else would I have them as IM contacts? However, I always felt I needed to be as instant as the Instant in the title and this would ultimately stress me out. So in the last year or so I've pretty much phased it out altogether.

This brings me to Twitter. I love Twitter. I'm good at Twitter - I've done nearly 17,000 tweets in the last 4 and a bit years and my 450-odd followers will surely all vouch for the fact that 16,500 of them have been wet-your-pants hilarious. By no means is this one of those tiresome "I'm going to have to give up on Twitter for my own good" posts, because I'm not. What it is, rather, is my trying to figure out a more sane and sensible way to use it where I'm not in what I'm essentially thinking of as a billion-person IM conversation, where I will inevitably end up feeling rejected.

Because I do. I know. It's completely insane. And I know it's completely insane. But it doesn't stop me feeling it, even if it's only initially. But my brain is frustratingly like a 1980s quiz show host at times and will stubbornly refuse to take anything but my first answer.

For a number of reasons which are really too personal to go into, in the last 18 months I've become a little preoccupied with loss. My fear of loss now outstrips virtually everything else in my canon of manias. What I can feel happening whenever I get near Twitter these days is the slow drip-drip-drip of an approaching episode. With every tweet where I feel I'm putting myself out there comes the risk of feeling like I've been abandoned, that people have gotten wise to me, that I'll be left on my own.

Again, I can see that this is fundamentally unwell thinking, not least as it's built on a foundation of self-loathing which is really so old hat now that frankly I'm wondering if perhaps it's outstayed its welcome. But again, it's still there. Honestly, it feels like my brain is mocking me. Because it is all in my head in this case: nothing that anyone has done could possibly have precipitated this dazzling white-knuckle ride.

I'm putting this here rather than anything else because I'm worried that I'm probably starting to pester people - and not just any old people, but my closest friends - almost in the way a toddler prods and tugs at their parent's leg in order to get some kind, any kind, of reaction. So to anyone reading who has borne the brunt of this infuriating neediness, I'm sorry and I'm trying to stop. Well, no, not stop, but strike a better balance. Also, it may lead to recommendations for the best Twitter client for me to use, where I'd feel like I am doing some serious microblogging, rather than just fishing for conversation.

I'm a good person. I'm kind and honest, thoughtful and trustworthy. I'm pretty cool to know, I think. I guess it's just a question of convincing what may well be my last actual remaining doubter - my own brain - of that.

My favourite albums: Mudrock

Today's list of favourite albums is courtesy of all-round internet celebrity and allotment wrangler Iam Mudrock. Mudrock is 44 and has lived most of his adult life in Brighton with occasional spells in London, Chicago and Seattle. As with any self-respecting 40-something man, he's a vinyl fanatic although a good C90 mixtape will tide him over. "I refused to buy CDs until about 2000 when a lot of stuff stopped being released on vinyl." he says.

Here are his picks, all of which he plays regularly for his daughters - ages 10 and 13. Such an endeavour should be made mandatory for all parents!

Ween – God Ween Satan: The Oneness. (1990)

I first heard this in Chicago in 1993. The opening track ‘You fucked up’ gets your attention and sets up the rest of the album. I have been ever since a massive Ween fan. See them live if you can

Beastie Boys – Check Your Head. (1992)
Beasties best album. Rock, punk, hip-hop, jazz all rolled into a delight for the ears.

Flaming Lips – Transmissions From the Satellite Heart (1993)
Saw these live in Chicago in 93 and was hooked, less polished than the later stuff we know them for now, but brilliant catchy riffs and quirky lyrics.

Tom Waits – Rain Dogs (1985)
Sunday morning hangover music.

The Goats – No Goats, No Glory (1994)
One of the best Christmases of my life was 1995 in a loft apartment listening to this amongst others with a ping pong table and enough supplies to keep us going for 3 days.

Countryman – Original Soundtrack (1983)
Great soundtrack to a great movie. This didn’t leave the turntable for months on end.

John Spencer Blues Explosion – Extra Width (1993)
Saw JSBX live in 1993 and had to have the album, I’d never heard anything like it live, so much noise from a 3 piece, and a Theremin to boot. Awesome, and I spoke to Russell Simins on the phone when he heard I had a copy of the Crunt album that he drummed on.

Mudhoney – Superfuzz Bigmuff (1988)
Early Sub-Pop release that set the scene for the likes of Nirvana. Pure guitar energy, they don’t make ‘em like this anymore.

Pixies – Surfer Rosa (1988)
Genius song writing, probably the best album ever made.

The Doors – L. A. Woman (1971)
I was 17 speeding my tits off in a basement in Landsdown Place, L. A. Woman came on the stereo and my head did a flip. The Doors changed the way I listened to music forever.

The Stone Roses – The Stone Roses (1989)
All time classic from the days of staying up all night at post rave house parties.

as a P.S., Mudrock adds he would also happily include the compilation album Nuggets: Original Artyfacts From The First Psychedelic Era 1965-1968 from 1972. So there you go.

Thanks go to Mudrock. Add yours by shouting at me.

Cultural analysis: Donnie Warehouse

Today I'm looking at early 1990s rave culture. Specifically, this video from Doncaster's BYO which my friend Ed pointed me in the direction of. The BYO was like any number of clubs which sprung up in the same period: unlicensed venues where patrons had to bring their own drink. Or whatever else they were planning on taking. If you know what I mean.

What I mean is drugs.

This video was taken by club security at the time. We can only thank the great googly moogly that it has now made its way onto the internet. It's an extraordinary historical document, like finding CCTV footage of the Battle of Hastings or something. It's 15 minutes long, so there's quite a bit to get through. But don't be intimidated, below the clip I have included some annotations. Think of them as a Lett's Revision Guide.


Video clip

0:10 It probably helps to think of this as a narrative drama. There are certainly starring players. At this early stage you can see the outright star of the piece, Unbelievably Together Woman, just to the right of centre. Unbelievably Together Woman is at the eye of this particular hurricane. She is in a zone where she seems completely optimised to get the very most out of her club experience without any grinding come down later. I'd not be surprised if she weighed herself on a medical balance before administering the precise amount of stimulant required, taking longevity and activity level into account. On the left of the picture is one of the supporting players, The Grand Old Duke of York. The Grand Old Duke of York has been spectacularly well served and now seems unable to do anything but grin with a childlike innocence and march up and down on the spot. I'd not be surprised if he was still there now, aged nearly 50, marching up and down in a three-foot deep crater.

0:47 White Glove Dungarees Man appears for the first time. He makes a number of exceptional cameos. Unlike everyone else in the entire warehouse, he has imbibed no substances of any kind at all, he's just there to show off all his best moves. Pierrot-influenced dancing was popular in this time period, a fact which future historians will be completely powerless to explain.

1:24 One of my favourite characters shows his hand. Shoulder Rub Man is well into the whole scene and makes the most of the loved-up vibe to dispense a series of unsolicited neck massages. The best of these is without doubt at 2:03, where he sends out some go-go-Gadget arms to reach down to the front of the scene.

2:10 Our other starring protagonist appears for the first time. Billy Bragg's Cumface Man is having the time of his life, gurning and Ian Curtis dancing his night away. Meanwhile, as the crowd are exhorted to 'put their arms in the air', the man behind Billy Bragg's Cumface Man does so in a style which seems to have been heavily influenced by The World At War.

2:39 Like Romeo and Juliet, or Terry and June, here we see our two stars dancing together. Unbelievably Together Woman seems more composed, if I'm honest. At 3:00 Billy Bragg's Cumface Man is trying some basic social interactions with those around him - i.e. eye contact - but it's proving difficult. There's only one thing to do - by 3:50 the pistols are out. Double pistols!

4:55 Unbelievably Together Woman is living up to her name, demonstrating some really quite high end cognitive functions: speech! laughter! interaction! Billy Bragg's Cumface Man is busily chewing on his own tonsils. By 5:10 he's throwing shapes the like of which have never been seen.

5:40 Further interaction between Unbelievably Together Woman and Unbelievably Together Woman's Dreadlocked Friend serves only as a stark juxtaposition with Billy Bragg's Cumface Man's continuing grapple with his own sense of self.

6:35 Unbelievably Together Woman has been largely ignoring Billy Bragg's Cumface Man up to this point but now there are the first glimses of some connection between them. Billy Bragg's Cumface Man is the person who tries the first move. Method: pistols. And gurning.

7:00 Excitingly, by this point White Glove Dungarees Man has worked his way back into frame. His French Street Theatre influences are clear for all to see.

7:18 A frisson of romantic excitement, as Unbelievably Together Woman finally clocks Billy Bragg's Cumface Man for a fraction of a second. Sneaking into the left of the shot here, and clearly visible from 7:55 is Incredibly Early-1990s Hair Woman.

8:40 The burgeoning love affair could be threatened as Gangling Dance Man moves in between Unbelievably Together Woman and Billy Bragg's Cumface Man. Billy Bragg's Cumface Man's face is shot through with as many questions as his brain is capable of posing at this stage.

9:25 As a brief interlude, we look at Blonde-Haired White Gloves Woman. More pierrot moves.

10:44 We see the MC. He's kept us on the edge of our seat so far, so it's nice he gets a look-in.

11:45 One of the late stars of the piece, Fiercely Spirited Dancing Thin Woman makes her entrance.

12:05 Unbelievably Together Woman continues to astound. She is now singing along with the music, barely a drop of sweat having left her body. Meanwhile, to all sides are a series of discarded kidneys.

12:52 A look along the rafter monkeys reveals Very Suspicious Man. Arms folded and as alert as a meerkat, you could maybe think he was a drug dealer if you work on the assumption drug dealers like to advertise by looking like the shiftiest shithouse rat on earth. In fact, Very Suspicious Man is just a distant relative of The Grand Old Duke of York.

13:35 Fiercely Spirited Dancing Thin Woman is really going some now. It's no wonder, as they've just dropped Poing by The Rotterdam Termination Force.

14:25 As a final flourish, Middle Aged Man in a Hooped Shirt throws some exotic shapes.

I should probably add that, in my version of events, Unbelievably Together Woman and Billy Bragg's Cumface Man got together at the end of the night and are now happily married and live in Bingley with two teenage children.

Astrology

Life is full of pieces of synchronicity. The welcome return of BBC Radio Five Live's Danny Baker Show on Saturday mornings has been accompanied by an astrological theme in the past three weekends. Then, last week, my good friend Mungo told me that they'd been using horoscopes to help guide them in their life and love.

Well, this is clearly a sign that I should give astrology - undeniably still the greatest and most infallible science known to humanity - some serious consideration. As such, after poring over any number (0) of astrological charts and a childhood watching Button Moon, I can now present my horoscopes for this week. Anyone who finds that they are particularly helpful or prove especially prescient are invited to add their experiences in the comments to this post, so as I may better calibrate my sextants for future attempts.

Aries (21 March - 20 April)

Cows will be much on your mind this week. You'll be thinking about eating them, about wearing them and about adopting them as pets. But most of all you'll be thinking about suckling on their sweet sweet udders. A chance meeting with a dairy farmer may have dire consequences.

Taurus (21 April - 20 May)

The stranger you met last Tuesday will reveal themselves to be your ticket to Wimbledon. Do not push your luck any further though, and assume you'll have to buy your own strawberries. A wet and windy day in the middle of the week is a good time to confront your mother.

Gemini (21 May - 20 June)

Getting a flap of skin really quite seriously caught in something will prove to be a blessing in disguise. Don't count on the kindness of strangers, though. This week will prove that your hero is the person you always thought it would be, even though you never thought you'd show them your flaps.

Cancer (21 June - 22 July)

Uranus is descending, so you could find salads a struggle this week. Take the opportunity to rekindle your old love of meat. Investing literally all your money and assets in a novelty candle store would be a good idea.

Leo (23 July - 22 August)

Your favourite Color Me Badd album, which you thought was always set in stone, will change this week after a trying but ultimately fruitful armed siege on a bus. Keeping a snooker ball in a sock was, is and will continue to be a good idea.

Virgo (23 August - 22 September)

This week will definitely be your best ever chance of meeting the Queen. If you achieve it, don't hold back. Particularly not your farts. Your shared love of Bombay Bad Boy Pot Noodles will see you move up in the world in ways you'd never imagined.

Libra (23 September - 22 October)

Cowardice will serve you well this week. Total abrogation of your authority will end incredibly badly for the people you consider your loved ones, but see your life take a magnificent new path. Stab everyone in the back.

Scorpio (23 October - 22 November)

Any relationships you may have had with Frenchmen are best forgotten about this week. Look to the future and try to eliminate garlic from your diet unless you are having particular trouble with vampires and/or biting insects. A chance encounter with a goat will serve you well.

Sagittarius (23 November - 22 December)

Exhuming Jean Paul Sartre is advisable for Sagittarians this week. But remember, there's only one so collaboration - or getting there first and fighting like a cornered tiger - will be the key. Jean Paul Sartre's eBayed glasses will prove a major windfall.

Capricorn (23 December - 19 January)

You're going to shit your pants on public transport this Wednesday. Nothing you can do will prevent this, so instead choose to embrace it. The man sitting next to you when it happens will prove significant to you for the rest of your life.

Aquarius (20 January - 18 February)

Thursday night's occluding of Uranus is likely to have several knock-on effects. Now could be a good time to start that soul band. All the things you thought would stand in your way will soon evaporate after a series of violent tantrums in a shopping centre.

Pisces (19 February - 20 March)

Unusual and exotic pets should be the order of the day for you this week. Consider any of the following: owl, mole, hedgehog, toucan, cougar or donkey. Only once you have a menagerie in place will you see an end to your crippling mood swings, you loser.

Outreach program

Innumerable self esteem problems far too boring to write about and too rubbish to even indulge have always made me rather cautious about getting in touch with people. I always figure that seeing my name pop up in your email or text message inbox is exactly the kind of thing which would make you turn to Cthulhu or throw your gadgets in the sea before settling on a more bucolic life on a Hebridean island.

Recently I've been trying to go against all manner of things my brain tells me as a scientific experiment. And by god, it's making me feel so much more of a better person. I'm not sat worrying about my friends and family, hoping they'd drop me a line but understanding if they didn't. I'm putting myself out there more and reaping little rewards every time. One of them being that no-one has yet run to the hills to live in a Yurt and eat biltong and weeds.

Being more positive has its downsides, of course. It made me realise that I couldn't keep up my self-imposed exile from Facebook as well as continuing down this new path. But the evil that is The 'Book was almost immediately - within minutes, in fact - negated by catching up with some people I'd not spoken with for far too long. It's all good.

Could it be that every single one of my preconceived notions about myself were wrong? The scientific answer, sadly, appears to be yes. 2011 continues to be an annus mirabilis for me, if not for you dear reader, sat here trawling through all this nonsense. But I am finally learning some of the things that I perhaps should have picked up by the first year of primary school and I'm as excited as someone who's just learned to read.

My apologies to your heaving, overworked RSS readers.

Psychological warfare

In the last few weeks and months I have improved my life by, and there's no other way of saying this, by being nice. I suspect I've always known that I'm quite a nice and kind person, although you have to take what your mum tells you about yourself with a pinch of salt at times. I think I've helped make the world in my own particular fart-enriched slipstream a better place though, and in turn that's helping me feel better about myself.

Brain is not going down without a fight, however. He is in full rebellion. The irony is that in this situation he's rebelling against himself, which has the potential to get a little messy. At the moment, no matter how hard he's screaming at that I'm a wrong 'un, that I'm hated or up to no good, the part which controls what I actually do has him licked.

I'm excited to find out who is going to prevail in this battle, even though it may leave body as something of a passenger. I certainly know who I hope prevails.

Incidentally, the part of my brain that wrote this is the nice part, trying to shame the nasty part into line. Clever move, brain.

My favourite albums: Dave

This list was contributed by Dave. I do not know Dave personally but it is clear that we are kindred spirits, judging by his excellent blog made up of top-5 lists, Chop's Top Fives. Us listos have to stick together. And make lists. Dave's listing helps him wile away the hours which would, horrifyingly, otherwise be filled with "the important stuff a husband and father of two probably should be doing; DIY, mowing the lawn and catching spiders."

Dave has gone the extra mile with this list, and provided TEN albums, a 200% increase on his usual output.

1. Pixies “Surfer Rosa” (1988) - The Pixies are my favourite band, any of their first 3 or 4 releases would be contenders but Surfer Rosa has a raw edge to it I love.

2. The Sonics “Here Are The Sonics” (1965) - Pioneers of punk, this is sixties rock'n'roll but wilder than anyone else of their time. If you like Iggy & The Stooges, The Jim Jones Revue or Japandroids you should check them out.

3. Johnny Cash “Live at Folsom Prison” (1968) - Cash's best album in my opinion, might be cheating slightly by combining many of his hits in one place but the atmosphere is tangible and Johnny's personality shines through.

4. The Specials “The Specials” (1979) - An album I first tried to buy when I was 11 at my best mates Blue Peter "bring and buy" sale. I couldn't muster the requisite £1.99 though and it sold before I had time to run home and raid the piggy bank.

5. Aretha Franklin “I Never Loved a Man ...” (1967) - An amazing soul vocal from Aretha who is up there with my very favourite singers. Respect is the treat that will draw you in but the consistency throughout the rest of the album will keep you coming back.

6. Nirvana “Nevermind” (1991) - Thought about attempting to be cool and going with "Bleach" but this was the first Nirvana album I heard and marked a sea change in my musical taste.

7. Stiff Little Fingers “Inflammable Material” (1979) - Other than a brief mention in the film of "High Fidelity", Stiff Little Fingers remain a largely under appreciated punk band. I think they were one of the best original UK punk bands, great live and with a song craft that many others of their era lacked.

8. Jethro Tull “Stand Up” (1968) - Not quite prog rock, not quite blues. Tull mined an unique vein the set them apart from everyone else.

9. Ramones “Ramones” (1976) - It's a perfect album, fourteen tracks every single one as good as the last. Their sound obviously didn't change a great deal after this but if you own only one Ramones album this is the one to have.

10. Metallica “Ride The Lightning” (1983) - Taking Metal to the next level. They became a bit of a monster but this was when they seemed genuinely alternative.

Thanks to Dave. If you'd like to contribute, clickums.

My favourite albums: Vici

I have two excellent lists to share today. The first one comes from Vici, who lives in London and I know from her always-entertaining Twitter stream @kikilookeylikey. Vici's list is in no particular order, but she adds that in fact her all-time favourite album is the "perfect" Now 39. An exciting choice!

Hanson - Middle of Nowhere

I have given up being embarrassed about this. There is something absolutely joyous about feeling 11 again, and this does it every time.

Regina Spektor - Begin to Hope

I first listened to this album on a long and depressing coach trip from London to Darlington, following an odd, 5 hour trip to the capital. It fit my mood exactly.

Alanis Morisette - Jagged Little Pill

This was pretty much the only album I listened to for three solid months when I was 16 and had just broken up with the then-love-of-my-life. First heartbreak has a peculiar intensity that even first love cannot match.

Blur - Parklife

I was that bit too young for Britpop, but idolised my sister just as much then as I do now. I grew into this album, I think.

Sheri Renee Scott & Norbert Leo Butz - The Last 5 Years

This is the most beautiful musical, charting the breakdown of a relationship; the male character tells the story from beginning to end, while the female character starts at the end and works backwards. It is haunting.

Robbie Williams - I've Been Expecting You

See: Hanson.

Blink 182 - Enema of the State

See: Robbie Williams (it was a good time in my life)

They Might Be Giants - Flood

JUST JOYOUS.

Various - Moulin Rouge! Soundtrack

Yes, partly because of my overwhelming, decade-long crush on Ewan McGregor. But also splendid in its own right.

Paul Simon - Graceland

When I was about 6, I decided that this was the Best Album Ever. I still feel the same way now.

Sheona White - The Voice of the Tenor Horn

The tenor horn is a lovely and under appreciated instrument. Sheona White is its mistress. (Interesting (to me) fact: Sheona White is featured in the BBC version of Perfect Day. Listen to it with me sometime, and I will point it out to you.)

Yann Tiersen - Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amelie Poulain

You know that weird mood that cats get in when it's windy? This is the musical version of that.

Athlete - Vehicles and Animals

I just really, really like this.

Eva Cassidy - Songbird

It was compulsory for all girls I knew to like this album when I was 15. Rightly so.

Red Hot Chili Peppers - Californication

I realise it's much cooler to love Blood Sugar Sex Magik. But this is what I knew first, so this is what I love best.

Thanks to Vici. To contribute your list to my pointless though entertaining collection, click here.

My Back Pages, day 5

My final choice in Bob Dylan week is Highlands, the closing song from my favourite Bob Dylan album, Time Out Of Mind, released in 1997.

It's a typical Dylan album closer, epic of length and sprawling and meandering in terms of content. What makes this one special for me is all the different moods and emotions that it encompasses. It is by turns funny, sad, reflective and wistful. All of human and animal life is there for all to see.

It's why I love Dylan.

Read more here.

My favourite albums: Garry

This list was provided by Garry, who is 23 years of age and a chef in South London. Will any of these facts have a bearing on his choices? Honestly, I have no idea, but it's still a good list. And THAT IS WHAT COUNTS.

Garry's top 15 favourite albums are as follows.

1. Nevermind - Nirvana
2. Screamadelica - Primal Scream
3. Racecar is racecar backwards - Reuben
4. Rumours - Fleetwood Mac
5. Sgt. Peppers Lonely Heart Club Band - The Beatles
6. Kids Aflame - Arms
7. Yours To Keep - Albert Hammond. Jr.
8. Wolfmother - Wolfmother
9. No More Idols - Chase and Status
10. The Three EPs - The Beta Band
11. Glasvegas - Glasvegas
12. Just Enough Education To Perform - Stereophonics
13. Heart Tuned To D.E.A.D - Switches
14. Fat Of The Land - The Prodigy
15. Ocean Rain - Echo & The Bunnymen

Thanks to Garry. If you want to add to my ultimately pointless collection, please click here.

My favourite albums: Adam S.

This list comes from a UK-domiciled Canadian called Adam who is the first person to have the same name as a previous list maker. Hence the sharky initial in the title there. Neat, huh? This is a carefully considered and neatly trimmed top ten list, with apologies to David Bowie, Stevie Wonder and Eric Clapton. I am sure they forgive you.

In no particular order except for the first pick:

1. Pink Floyd – The Wall (apparently I listened to this about three times a day when I was at school)

2. Gorillaz – Plastic Beach
3. Frente! – Marvin The Album
4. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Blood Sugar Sex Magik
5. World Party – Bang!
6. The Clash – Combat Rock
7. Spin Doctors - Pocket Full Of Kryptonite
8. Blur – Parklife
9. Counting Crows - August & Everything After
10. Crash Test Dummies - God Shuffled His Feet

Thanks to Adam. Join in by clicking this doobery.

My favourite albums: 5olly

This list is provided by my good friend and internet celebrity 5olly. 5olly also has his own blog where you can read about his efforts to watch Channel 4's list of the 100 greatest war films and the decline of his sanity as a result. You should read it. I do. Don't make me come up there.

It also includes a greatest hits album which, again, I'm allowing. Again, this is due to favouritism. Bad luck, everyone else.

He describes this list as being one that "any gay biker might own". Only if they're COOL, though, say the rest of us.

Faith No More – Angel Dust
Green Day – Dookie
The Streets – A Grand Don’t Come For Free
The The – Infected
The La’s – The La’s
The Sisters of Mercy – A Slight Case Of Overbombing
Scissor Sisters – Scissor Sisters
Alien Ant Farm – ANThology
U2 – Achtung Baby
Lily Allen – It’s Not Me, It’s You
Foo Fighters – Greatest Hits (It’s the only album I ever bought of them)
Iron Maiden – The Number Of The Beast

Thanks to 5olly. If you want in, please follow these simple if garbled instructions

My favourite albums: Cam

This is turning into quite a weighty project already. This list is by the muscular, wise, Cam who I once saw drink a horse under the table and then beat the horse at arm wrestling (best of five).

Cam's list was truncated by time constraints, so feel free to imagine what his other selections would have been. I'm guessing it probably wouldn't be anything by The Saturdays.

Wish you were here – Pink Floyd
OK Computer – Radiohead
Led Zepplin 2 – Led Zepplin
Rumours – Fleetwood Mac
Max Bruch – Violinkonzert No 1
Nirvana Unplugged – Nirvana
Miles Davis – Kind of Blue
Dave Brubeck – Take 5

Thanks to Cam. Join in with us, by following these simple instructions.

My favourite albums: Sarah and Jude

This pair of lists were our first to be provided by a married couple: lovely, lovely Sarah and her wife lovely, lovely Jude. There's lovely. I'm sure these records will be lovely. Let's have a look.

Sarah's list:

Rumours – Fleetwood Mac
Rubber Soul – The Beatles
So – Peter Gabriel
Automatic for the people – REM
Parklife – Blur
Tracy Chapman – Tracy Chapman
The Bends – Radiohead
Dummy – Portishead
Urban Hymns – The Verve
Like a Prayer – Madonna
Jagged little pill – Alanis Morrisette
Blue – Joni Mitchel
This is my truth, tell me yours – Manic Street Preachers
Stories of the city, stories of the sea – PJ Harvey
The Stranger – Billy Joel

Jude's list:

101 Damnations – Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine
Blood Sugar Sex Magic – Red Hot Chilli Peppers
Out of the Blue – ELO
Dummy – Portishead
Reverence – Faithless
Parklife – Blur
The Trainspotting soundtrack
Tragic Kingdom – No Doubt
White album – The Beatles
White ladder – David Gray
Hormonally Yours – Shakespeare’s Sister
The Wall – Pink Floyd
Carmina Burana – Carl Orff
Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots – The Flaming Lips

Thanks to Sarah and Jude. If you want to play, please do so here.

My favourite albums: My favourite albums

It had to be done. I'm now going to lay my cards on the table so that you can all judge me. Not that you will be able to, of course, because as you are about to discover I have impeccable taste.

Presented strictly in the order I thought of them.

Air - Moon Safari

Moon Safari is the most perfectly named record you could hope to find, redolent with images of the future as seen from the past. It also gives a good indication of the contents of the music. Analogue electronica, completely swoonsome and lovely.

Bob Dylan & The Band - The Basement Tapes

Originally one of rock's most famous bootleg recordings, finally released 9 years after it was recorded. 24 completely timeless, ageless songs which manage to sound both ancient and modern.

Bob Dylan - Time Out Of Mind

I could easily have populated this list with Dylan records alone. This one is very special to me. Clever, funny, sad, poignant and brave.

The Velvet Underground & Nico - The Velvet Underground & Nico

I think The Velvet Underground are my all-time favourite group. The audacity! The noise! Beyond the clatter, though, Lou Reed is responsible for some really beautiful lyrics. This album would have made the list for I'll Be Your Mirror or the trilling piano of I'm Waiting For The Man alone.

Dusty Springfield - Dusty In Memphis

Maybe the loveliest record ever made. I can't imagine anyone not liking it.

Isaac Hayes - Hot Buttered Soul

Along with Time Out Of Mind and Dusty In Memphis, my favourite album of them all. Powerful, delicate, funky, soulful and immaculately played. A masterpiece.

The Beatles - Rubber Soul

I could easily have picked almost all of the Beatles albums. But I always come back to Rubber Soul because it is the only record they ever made which I consider to be completely flawless. By extension, it's surely one of the greatest albums ever made.

Primal Scream - Screamadelica

A unique, sprawling and extraordinary piece of work. Nothing has ever sounded quite like it before or since, a very rare quality.

Elvis Costello and The Attractions - Get Happy!

This is Elvis Costello's self-appointed soul album. Aside from the few covers of classic soul songs, I've never really heard it as such. What I do hear is a magnificent collection of memorable songs. I could literally listen to this record at any time on any day and still enjoy it.

The Beach Boys - Wild Honey

The first record they released after the breakdown of Smile and its limp cousin Smiley Smile, Wild Honey was wilfully pared down and under-produced. A simple, straightforward collection of wonderful songs. What more could you want?

The Clash - Sandinista!
The Clash's eponymous first album is as pulsating and thrilling as anything ever recorded, and London Calling deserves its place in the rock 'n' roll pantheon of the greats. However, nothing that they - or anyone else for that matter - ever made can match the sheer ambition of the brilliant, sprawling, epic Sandinista!. A masterstroke and a masterpiece.

My favourite albums: Merry Mary

This list of favourite albums is by my dear friend Merry Mary, who lives in Brighton like all clean-living people do. Merry is the founder of the Pubes For Animals Campaign, a very worthy cause which you should all consider donating to if you can find it in your hearts or your plugholes. Merry also serves as Chief Winky Inspector.

Merry's list includes a greatest hits album which is strictly prohibited by the rules, but I'm going to allow it. This is because of pure and simple favouritism. I'm afraid you may well have to get used to such acts of capriciousness and personal bias.

It is also the first list to include some little reasons for the selections, which is another bonus. I commend it to the house.

1. Primal Scream, Screamadelica. (Most awesome album eva.)

2. Paul Simon, Graceland (full of memories this one, watch the concert in South Africa)
3. REM, Out of Time. (Saved me from NKOTB. Had to limit myself to one REM album)
4. Joni Mitchell, Blue (Not for every day, but always beautiful)
5. Tricky, Maxinquaye
6. David Bowie, Hunky Dory
7. Michelle Shocked, The Texas Campfire Tapes (which I just found out she never liked, but then listened to the original recordings and released the whole thing, I'm going to have to buy the new version)
8. Ry Cooder, Chavez Ravine (blame Chuck Berry for this)
9. George Michael, Ladies & Gentlemen, The Best of George Michael (yeah, yeah, I know, but it means more to me than his actual albums)
10. Belly, King

Thanks to Merry. If you want to see your list up here, all you got to do is call.

My Back Pages, day 4

My list of my favourite Bob Dylan songs has been rather buried by all the other lists of favourite albums, but it continues all the same. You know, in all the lists so far, nary a Dylan album has been seen? What the hell is up with that?

Today's choice is Meet Me In The Morning, which is from one of Dylan's most celebrated albums, Blood on the Tracks from 1975. Blood on the Tracks is a record of sufficient fame that I probably don't have to go to any great lengths to outline its general theme. But to people who really don't know, it's about the break up of relationships, and the pain, and the yearning and the longing and the yearning and all that.

Meet Me In The Morning is my favourite song from that collection of ten outstanding songs. Unlike many of Dylan's great works, the key to its effectiveness stems from its lyrical simplicity and straightforwardness. Coupled with the heartfelt delivery and the album's famous musicianship, it is an outstanding piece of work.

You can read more here. Or divorce your spouse and write your own songs about it.

My favourite albums: Betsy

This list is provided by my friend Betsy. Everyone loves Betsy, it's as simple as that. Betsy is originally from Scotland, which makes this list the most exotic and far-flung list so far.

In an order described as no particular order:

Rolling Stones: Through The Past Darkly (Big Hits Vol.2)
Radiohead: OK Computer
Dave Matthews Band: Crash
The Streets: Original Pirate Material
Alanis Morissette: Jagged Little Pill
Lily Allen: Alright, Still
Bjork: Debut
Rolling Stones: Stripped
Nirvana: Nevermind
Rolling Stones: Aftermath

Thanks to Betsy. To contribute yourself, click this.

My favourite albums: Thomas

My collection of favourite albums lists continues on its swelteringly pointless way, pleasing me enormously. Here's the top 11 albums of Thomas, who you can find on Twitter as @thomassays. Thomas is the first person to contribute a list whom I don't really know, making me realise that this could grow into a huge collection.

Graceland - Paul Simon
American Water - Silver Jews
No Gods No Managers - Choking Victim
Das Oath - Das Oath
Double Nickels On The Dime - Minutemen
In An Airplane Over The Sea - Neutral Milk Hotel
Relationship Of Command - At the Drive-In
Daydream Nation - Sonic Youth
Mm...food? - MF Doom
Start Today - Gorilla Biscuits
Madonna - ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

Thanks to Thomas. If you'd like to contribute, you can do so here.

My favourite albums: Alistair

With five lists already, this feature is already five times more successful than I'd anticipated and I've not even done my own yet. Our latest contributor is hardened blogger Alistair, of Scaryduck fame. He says this list marks him down as two things: "old, and a sucker for elfin Aussie singer-songwriters".

1 The Boo Radleys - Giant Steps (1993)
2 Win - Uh! Tears Baby (A Trash Icon) (1987)
3 Megan Washington - I Believe You, Liar (2010)
4 David Bowie - The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (1972)
5 Kate Bush - Hounds of Love (1985)
6 Radiohead - The Bends (1995)
7 Joy Division - Unknown Pleasures (1979)
8 Ultravox! - Ha!Ha!Ha! (1977)
9 The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses (1989)
10 Human League - Travelogue (1980)

Thanks to Alistair. If you'd like to contribute yours, the details are here.

My favourite albums: Tom

Our fourth (FOUR!) list of the night is Tom's. Tom lives in the grim north, where music is definitely the only respite from the coal, the rain and the continual howling of whippets. He describes himself as a "massive dork" for listing his choices in the order in which he discovered them. In fact, it is an act of heroism.

1. Leftism by Leftfield

2. The Second Tindersticks Album by Tindersticks
3. To Bring You My Love by P J Harvey
4. The Holy Bible by Manic Street Preachers
5. Phantom Power by Super Furry Animals
6. Clear Spot by Captain Beefheart
7. In The Aeroplane Over The Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel
8. The Milk Eyed Mender by Joanna Newsome
9. Kurr by Amiina
10.Days To Come by Bonobo

Thanks to Tom. If you'd like to get involved, all the details are here.

My favourite albums: Adam

A third selection. This time from my friend and noted booze astronaut Adam. He is 33 years old and lives in Lincoln. He describes the sequence in which he has placed these albums in as, "very approximate order of Absolute Works of Genius to Would Consider Running Into A Burning Building to Save The Last Existing Copy".

Adam is also fretting about whether or not he should have included several other albums. Sadly, it's now far too late for that.

Kate Bush - The Kick Inside
Philip Glass - 3rd and 2nd symphonies
X-ray Spex - Germ Free Adolescents
The Smiths - The Queen is Dead
Pavement - Brighten the Corners
Belle and Sebastian - The Boy with the Arab Strap
Kraftwerk - Tour de France Soundtracks
Boards of Canada - Music has the Right to Children
Chemical Brothers - Exit Planet Dust
Midlake - The Trials Of Van Occupanther

Thanks to Adam. If you'd like to contribute, please click here.

My favourite albums: Ian

Another list of favourite albums is in. This one is sent by my good friend Ian. He is 38 years old and lives in Brighton. Ian runs the celebrated football website Twohundredpercent. We also probably know each other well enough to be able to try and have a very decent attempt at getting the other sectioned.

This list is in no particular order. It's also distinct from Alice's in that the name of the album precedes the name of the artist, because Ian is a rebel.

Who's Next - The Who
Back In The USA - MC5
It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back - Public Enemy
Welcome Interstate Managers - Fountains of Wayne
Doolittle - Pixies
Ragin, Full On - fIREHOSE
Where You Been? - Dinosaur Jr
Boomania - Betty Boo
Grand Prix - Teenage Fanclub
Cheap Thrills - Janis Joplin, Big Brother & The Holding Company
Innervisions - Stevie Wonder
Rumours - Fleetwood Mac
IV - Led Zeppelin
Rubber Soul - The Beatles
Radio City - Big Star
Yoshimi Fights The Pink Robots - The Flaming Lips
Sin City - The Flying Burrito Brothers
Extra Width - The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
Strange Girls - The Gore Gore Girls
The Message - Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five
Homework - Daft Punk
Bryter Later - Nick Drake
Made In USA - Pizzicato 5

Thanks to Ian. If you'd like to contribute, please do so here.

My favourite albums: Alice

The first contributor to my collection of favourite album lists is in already! Ah ha ha! The sender is Alice who is 28 and lives in Brighton. I know Alice from Twitter. I imagine one day we will also meet in real life in Brighton, quite by accident, and form a political party.

Here is Alice's list, which is in no particular order.

Bruce Springsteen - Born in the U.S.A.

Tom Waits - Closing Time
Tom Waits - Glitter and Doom Live
Tom Waits - Alice
Whiskeytown - Pneumonia
Pulp - Different Class
Pearl Jam - Ten
Minus The Bear - Menos El Oso
Minus The Bear - Highly Refined Pirates
Jimmy Eat World - Jimmy Eat World
The Beatles - Abbey Road
Grease 2 Official Soundtrack
Ray LaMontagne - Trouble
Midlake - The Trials of Van Occupanther
DJ Shadow - Endtroducing
Portishead - Dummy
Leftfield - Leftism
Isis - Oceanic
Bjork - Debut
Bjork - Vespertine
Fiona Apple - Extraordinary Machine
Fiona Apple - Tidal
Radiohead - The Bends
Radiohead - OK Computer
The Gaslight Anthem - The '59 Sound
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - The Boatman's Call
Ane Brun - Changing of the Seasons
Blind Melon - Nico
Paul Simon - Graceland
City and Colour - Bring Me Your Love
Jimmy Eat World - Futures
Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
The Decemberists - The Crane Wife
Baroness - The Red Album
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus
Cake - Fashion Nugget
Fleetwood Mac - Tango in the Night
Fleetwood Mac - Rumours

Thanks to Alice! If you'd like to contribute to my insane collection, please do so. Instructions - such as they are - may be found here.

Your favourite albums, my favourite albums

This evening I was reading The Quietus when it occurred to me just how much I love reading people's lists of their all-time favourite albums. Be the person famous or not, there's always something fascinating about it to me. Making lists and reading lists already give me a huge amount of pleasure, but lists of favourite music and favourite records always seem the most personal and special of them all.

So, I thought I should collect them. Nothing formal, beyond people sending me their lists and my putting them up here. Perhaps collating it into one overall master list of THE BEST ALBUM IN THE WORLD. Perhaps not. Anyway, if you are interested, please do join in. You can contact me in myriad ways, but the easiest is probably going to be to email me.

All I ask is for a list of your top ten* all time favourite records†, in any order you wish. If you want to supply reasons, please do so. If you don't want to, don't. And some basic biographical details would be nice (first name, age, nationality, that sort of thing) but again, that can be as detailed, minimal or absent as you like.

* It doesn't have to be ten, but if it's a flamboyantly high amount I'll probably think you're mocking me. The nearer to ten (or under) you are, the more heroic you will appear to your fellow man.

†Any officially released recording (i.e. someone could read your list and go and try to find it) is eligible, regardless of genre. Even spoken word counts. I'm being a total hippy about this. Except for Greatest Hit albums. They will not be allowed.

My Back Pages, day 3

Today's choice is You Ain't Going Nowhere, recorded with The Band during Dylan's post-accident recuperation and finally released (officially, at least) on The Basement Tapes in 1975.

The Basement Tapes is one of my very favourite Bob Dylan albums. It marked a return to more traditional American music for Dylan who, up to the point he broke his neck falling from his motorcycle in Woodstock in 1966, had been blazing a trail of Byronic poetry set to a clattering, quicksilver blues backing.

The rate of technological progress that society has undergone since 1966 - or even since 1975, or 1998 when I first heard The Basement Tapes - has been remarkable. So remarkable, indeed, that it actually renders any number of popular song lyrics rather anachronistic. For people of my generation, who remember a time when telephones weren't something you carried in your pocket and the postman wasn't just an inconvenience, it's not so pronounced. But the day is already here when the entire grammar and lexicon of popular music has changed.

My love for The Basement Tapes stems very much from the genuinely timeless and evocative themes that its songs contain. You Ain't Going Nowhere just pips Please Mrs. Henry as my favourite of the bunch. Play it to a teenager now, or a teenager in a thousand years, and they'll still know what it's about. I think this is going to prove a rarer and rarer quality for the songs I grew up listening to and as such should be treasured.

Lyrics here.

My Back Pages, day 2

Day 2 of my Bob Dylan love-in falls on the man himself's 70th birthday. Happy birthday, Bob Dylan. Today's song choice is Spanish Harlem Incident, a song from 1964 which appears on his fourth album, Another Side of Bob Dylan.

I'm regretting using my standard pro-Dylan's singing rant yesterday when I didn't really need to, because the magic of Spanish Harlem Incident is as much to do with the delivery as it is anything else. The lyric, which concerns a fleeting encounter with a beguiling woman, is one of Dylan's first recorded forays into the kind of poetic approach to songs which would ultimately lead him into conflict with the folk crowd.

The lyric is wonderful, but his delivery of it is completely magnificent - as beguiling as the song's subject. Serpentine and flowing yet still concise and focussed. Dylan hits every beat like a metronome without ever sounding robotic. The overall effect is enormously evocative.

You can read more here.

My Back Pages, day 1

Recently I've been using this blog to try and work out my crazy. In a way it worked, because I'm now feeling significantly less crazy. I'm not going to dwell any more on why this is, but you know. Thank you.

Instead, I thought it might be a nice project to try and restore this blog to some sort of normalcy, where creativity is given more of a free rein and my personal insecurities are pushed deep, deep down inside. My chosen topic for a week of posts is one I've touched on once or twice but never really expanded. Indeed, I have probably promised to expand on it on several occasions but I never have. Luckily, I am not a liar because I now am.

I don't think you should never meet your heroes. I think people will always appear all the more heroic for you knowing them better, finding out what makes them tick, their story. All of my heroes except one are people I know and, therefore, have met. I'm not going to name them here. Bad luck, nosey parkers. I will, however, say who the exception to the rule is, and that's Bob Dylan.

It's Bob Dylan's 70th birthday this week, so no doubt the internet will be inundated with all sorts of retrospectives and thoughtful essays about his contributions to music and to modern culture. These are all likely to be a lot more informative than this. But I'm not really aiming for any purpose greater than to talk about five of my very favourite Dylan songs. If you learn anything or are inspired by it at all, it will be a bonus. But one for which I'd never dream of taking any credit.

Today's choice is Let Me Die In My Footsteps. It will probably be the shortest write up, but what more do you want? I've already given you introductory paragraphs. You're judging me on WORD COUNT now?

A quick aside. I'm hoping, where possible, to provide a YouTube clip of the song in these posts. However, none are available of the original recording for this first selection, and cover versions of Dylan songs almost always miss the point. Yes, he's not a singer. But no-one else comes near in terms of intonation, conviction or rhythm. This is never more evident than for songs like Let Me Die In My Footsteps, part of his early output of "protest songs" (a nomenclature Dylan himself has always disputed). Show me a "good" singer tackling a song like Blowin' In The Wind and it will put me to sleep. When sung by Dylan, these words in these songs are like nails being relentlessly hammered down, one after another after another. It's what they're meant to sound like.

Anyway. To Let Me Die In My Footsteps. It's one of the very first songs Dylan ever wrote, and for me still one of the very best. It comes from early in 1962 and didn't appear on any official release until The Bootleg Series vol. 1-3 emerged in 1991.

It's a song about human dignity in the face of technological might, inspired by Dylan watching sharky businessmen hawking nuclear fallout shelters door-to-door and their adverts appearing all over the press. Other songs from later in that same year, pre- and post-Cuban Missile Crisis such as Masters of War find Dylan in a far more combative mood. In Footsteps, however, he is restrained and resignedly dignified. It is a monumental achievement by a man barely out of his teens.

To try and examine it further would be to negate its eloquence, so I will instead just point you to the lyrics of the song here.

They're playing my song

As keener-eyed readers of this blog may probably have noticed, I've recently been going through one of my "episodes". Or "the unpleasantness". Call it what you will, it's not very nice.

Luckily, my friends are very nice. A dear friend of mine, who could easily have a successful career talking people down from window ledges should they wish to pursue one, was really very patient and understanding and one thing they said is really sticking in my mind: be kind to yourself. This may sound very simple for you normies out there, but for ranting, drooling maniacs like me it's often the first thing that gets tossed to one side.

So in the spirit of being kind to myself (and also doing things I like doing), I have made a list of all the songs currently on my iPod that are entirely about me, no arguments. And here it is.

1. Air - Sexy Boy
2. The Beach Boys - Fun Fun Fun
3. The Beatles - Hey Bulldog*
4. Bob Dylan - Forever Young
5. Carly Simon - Nobody Does It Better
6. The Clash - White Riot
7. Dusty Springfield - Son of a Preacher Man*
8. Gene Vincent - Wild Cat
9. Giorgio Moroder - Too Hot to Handle
10. Girls Aloud - Love Machine
11. Ice T - Pimp Anthem*
12. John Lennon - Working Class Hero
13. Marvin Gaye - You're A Wonderful One*
14. R.E.M. - Superman

* OK, so these songs are actually about me

On Eschatology

It was 1987 when someone I was at school with - I won't name him, but it's probably safe to say I remember his name with a greater certainty than he remembers mine - first told me about Nostradamus. Cue 13 years of grinding panic, naggingly always in the background of my thoughts even when it wasn't dominating the forefront. My first encounter with Millennial prophesies of doom had an indelible effect on my 7-year old mind.

I'd like to say it was the beginning of a lifelong fascination, but it'd be only half the story. It was actually the beginning of a life of dread, lived under some kind of unseeable Sword of Damocles. Because, for the best will in the world, for all my (decent) education and for all my (probably slightly above average) intelligence I am, at my most fundamental level, a credulous buffoon.

For me, endtime thinking is transformed into a series of new calculations. When a Russian woman (erroneously, it turned out) predicted the end of the world would occur on December 13th 1996, I became powerfully aware of the fact that I would never be able to be a truly happy human being until December 14th 1996. Then came after the solar eclipse in 1999, another hotspot. Then 1st January 2001. Then every single other one which has happened between then and now.

If you'd told the 7-year old idiot who was me in 1987 that, in 2011, there'd still be a world and there'd still be a 31-year old idiot me in it, it would have been a great weight off of my mind. I suppose it's this fundamental fear of the unknown which has coloured much of my life, which is not an uncommon human emotional response.

What the 7-year old me would not believe, however, is just how many more prophesies of doom, how many more target dates when I could then "relax and be happy" there'd have been between the Dreaded Year 2000 and today. Nor, having managed to make it past that crucial date, would 7-year old me believe how badly I could still be affected by every new prediction of doom. Here I am, a 31-year old with a degree in philosophy and 24 more years experience of all kinds of joy and pain behind me, still set into a frantic tailspin by whatever new shit maniacs can conjure up.

So, the latest line in the sand is The Rapture, due this Saturday and established by some phenomenally convoluted mathematics by a man who believes in the literal truth of The Bible -the world's most consistently self-contradictory book - and who has already wrongly predicted The End once before. Every cell of my rational being screams at me to leave it all to once side. And yet the animal instinct part of my brain which tells me to fear the dark won't ever be content until May 22nd. Then October 22nd, then December 22nd 2012, then the day after whatever other date anyone manages to "calculate" after that. Of course, I won't actually be happy after that, but at least I'll be able to realise I can't look to outside factors to explain why this might be.

I'm sure that people who consistently predict the end of it all find deep meaning in what they say, a tangible finishing line in a world that they perceive as being wicked, venal and out of control. All I would say to them is that life is already short enough. So on behalf of the innocent 7-year old children and credulous 31-year old idiots everywhere, just keep it under your fucking hat, eh?

Making a Mungo

Today marks the last Mungo of the 2010/11 football season, and for various reasons which are probably obvious from reading the strip, the last in its current format. So I decided to document the process thus demonstrating my astonishing lack of any conventional ability or artistic training.

Every Mungo starts pretty much this way. The size of the strip has been 18 by 22cm for all of this season's episodes. Next to it is a vague outline for what is going to happen. I don't storyboard, which is what a proper comic book artist would do. This is why each Mungo looks so shoddy. Sometimes I draw the frames before I even know what I'm going to put in them, which is a preposterous thing to do.


The necessary tools. A pencil, eraser and stuff for inking with, plus piece of kitchen paper because dip pens are cruel mistresses and block a lot. The red one is thicker, for lettering and outlines, the blue one thin for fine detail. The brush is for larger areas. You'd probably already worked that out.

This episode of Mungo requires the name of a rival football team, so I pull up the file with all the Mungo information. As you may notice, it is called The Mungobase. I wrote the majority of it, but it was bounced back and forth between me and Ian, the bloke who runs Twohundredpercent, so there's stuff of his in there too.

I am stalling now, and decided to take a picture of the dog that sits on my desk. Later, in a secondary fit of stalling, I realise he does not have a name so I ask Twitter what it should be. His name is now Hamish McSweeney.

I can avoid drawing no longer by about 9 a.m. Here's the first frame in pencil. Notice how it's barely any different from the finished product. There are different schools of thought regarding pencil sketching and how much or little you should do. For me, a black and white picture will be at least 75% working things out in pencil first.

I'm obviously in the zone by this point with the pencil, and I flesh out panel two. I like to do the text first. That's what normally carries the story, so making sure there's enough room to tell it is the most important thing.

Further evidence of that last fact, inked over. I ink directly onto the original pencils because I am brave and foolhardy.

Shit's starting to get real now. I find drawing to the accompaniment of familiar music, TV or films very constructive. Today Sherlock Holmes comes out. I will watch two films before the morning is over, although really I'm only listening to them.

Next I inked over the first panel. The top image is fine-line (blue) pen only, the bottom is the finished one with added thicker lines for definition and black areas.

With the first two panels finished, I moved on to number 3... although I don't always work in strict progression. Up to this point, however, I had. Here's Mungo's first appearance.

With frame 3 inked, I moved on to number five, the big action panel. Just text for now.

And here it is with the drawing added. I realise now I should have taken some interim shots during the inking, but I was in the zone. Besides, if you can't imagine how one goes about inking something over you're probably way beyond my help.

Three hours in and time for lunch. Sometimes it's quicker than this, sometimes it's much much slower. On those days I swear I'm giving it up.


Here's a close-up of panels four and six. Hopefully this should give you some indication as to the relationship between the pencil sketch and the finished product.

I sneak the final frame on later on, whilst watching CSI. I like CSI more than I like Mungo.

Shading time. You will need QUINK, water, brush, something to mix aforementioned things in.

Here I started with panel three. The general idea is to use the shading just to act purely as a contrast, to make the drawing make more sense. Once that is done, I might do a few stupid fiddly bits because I am an arse.

And we're all finished. The only things to do now are a few touch-ups in photoshop (this one didn't need any, bar for adding lettering to the road sign) and then reducing it to standard Mungo size. You can see the finished result at Twohundredpercent by clicking here.

This, and the huge majority of the other 96 editions of Mungo's original artwork are all available to buy. You can email me using the link in the sidebar for more details.

Confessional

Normally I successfully manage to be the exception that proves the rule, as far as "no man being an island" is concerned. But not any more. This year I have become aware that I feel desperately alone.

I think a lot of it is to do with the fact that when I sat down to consider things, I realised that I literally have nothing in my life to look forward to, perhaps for the first time ever. And it scares me to death. Everything around me seems to be getting away and all I can anticipate the future bringing me is pain, loss and heartache.

I can physically feel it pressing down all around me. There's not been a single waking moment of my life for months when I've not been aware of it. All I've been able to truthfully hope for is to be able to suppress it to try and enjoy any more positive moments that come along.

And there have been plenty. My life is not so bad. I love my family and my friends. I'm as sure as I can be that they feel the same way. But even that and all the good it brings can't shake the void away at the moment.

I don't really know why I'm writing this. Maybe it's in the hope getting it out of me will help. Optimistically, it could even be something that I'll be able to look back on with a wry smile in the months or years to come. Maybe it's just something to distract me from thinking.

I'm so lonely that I honestly don't know what to do except try to keep on bio-mechanically chugging on and hope that somehow my soul will catch up with me when it's ready.

The five things foxes have put in my garden

It is my birthday today, happy birthday to me and all that. I was given a digital camera, so naturally was thinking of things to take pictures of. My immediate thought needn't detain us any further, so I now present the results of my second idea, a photographic guide to the four things foxes have put in my garden (plus one brand new thing today!). This comes courtesy of my generous family, and also the fact that when I mow the lawn I don't pick anything up, merely just kick it out of the way.

Number 1: a bone (presumably from out of an animal).

Number 2: a dog toy. (I figure that foxes, being from the dog family, like playing with toys as much as their domesticated cousins.)


Number 3: A frankly troubling sock (suspected wanksock).


Number 4: A gardening glove with all but two fingers chewed off of it.

Number 5: (NEW ENTRY) Fresh today, a dead fish with no head! Quite smelly. Suspected dogfish, with suspected mud by head end (otherwise it's a poo).


The other thing I got for my birthday was a large spot on my left temple (not pictured).

Mund's Olde Avatar Shoppe

Like the majority of everything which now happens in the entire world, Twitter forms the basis of much of what is about to follow. But, to cut a long story short, I've started doing personalised cartoon portrait avatars for use on all sites which have avatars on them.

I've done a few FREE O' CHARGE so far for my friends. If I were nice and the world were just, I'd do one for everyone on earth and be done with it. However, things aren't that simple and that's the end of that. So, here's the business proposition...

£10 gets you a 256 x 256 pixel avatar.
£25 gets you a 256 x 256 or 512 x 512 pixel avatar, plus the original artwork on 12 x 12 cm 220gsm cartridge paper.

I'm assuming that most people will want a cartoon portrait, however, I'm open to drawing absolutely anything as an avatar as long as its not obscene, illegal or liable to incite religious hatred (and NB, I'll be the judge of what those are).

If you are interested, you can either email me using that link or get in touch with me on Twitter (@dotmund).