And they call it progress

I was in Cleethorpes at the weekend, fulfilling parental contractual duties. I'd forgotten how unremittingly bleak North East Lincolnshire can be on cold February days, that is until, on the way there we drove through Caistor, where I went to school.

Christ, Caistor is glum. It's supposed to be a scenic market town, and if you look hard enough there's still evidence from when the Romans established it. The Market Place - once home to the largest concentration of pubs in the UK (or something like that - look it up if you can be bothered) is now home to some depressing takeaways, tat shops and a run down supermarket. The chippy is still there, but that was always shit.

What's brought the demise of this once thriving town? I'd like to think it was the closure of its pubs. When I was at school, we used to try and get served in any one of The White Hart (which is still limping on), The Red Lion (now flats - of which I suppose most are empty), the Fleece (now a fucking private pre-school nursery), and the Talbot (which dated from the 16th century, was the cosiest of all the Caistor pubs but was somehow allowed to close a couple of years back). Without these pubs, there is literally sod all to do in Caistor apart from sit in the Market Square and make a nuisance of yourself. Which is what the tuff kids used to do years ago, whilst listening to Big Black and drinking White Lightning cider. Occasionally one of them would rev up his motorbike and whizz around the block, which was even more terrifying.

I guess these scenes are replicated throughout the world, but it's easy to forget those that chose to stay close to where they went to school or were brought up. Or those that got stuck there. But going back doesn't half remind you how lucky you were that you escaped, and how you can never really go back without seeing the outline of teenage self walking around the place. And that scares me a bit. Especially as I was probably singing Mission songs to myself at the time.

I found this clip on you tube this afternoon after I'd written all this stuff. I'm sure no-one else in the world will find this interesting, but it's pretty amazing... for me at least. Oh, and I'd advise you to turn the sound down if you're bored enough to watch this.

Transmittens - We Disappear (Wee Pop!)

It’s Monday morning, and nothing is right with the world. Except it wasn’t until I put The Transmittens’ ‘We Disappear’ on for the 50th time since it arrived late last week.

As ever, it’s always a moral dilemma whether you should actually open a Wee Pop! release, but you’re always glad you did. ‘We Disappear’ doesn’t mess about, and is far more immediate than last year’s ‘Our Dreams’. You could almost call it confident.

This time around Transmittens offer up some almost shoegazy, low-down-in-the-mix vocals to go with the drum machine and coy guitar lines. It’s a potent mix on songs like the dreamy ‘Holiday’ and ‘The Sea at Night.’

But that’s not say there aren’t any straight-down-the-line pop songs here. Hand claps are very much to the fore in ‘Places I’m Dreaming’ – a song which reminds me why those early Icicles records were so precious. See also ‘Hot Dog Suit’, which is just about the most summer-y song ever.

But – most marvellously – there are songs here that bring to mind the much-missed Pipas. Monday mornings are made for the likes of ‘Too Right to Sigh’, ‘Something Else’ and ‘Sometimes’ – both the sort of resigned pop that makes me feel there’s something out there worthwhile when you’ve got five days of drudge in front of you.

Wonderfully, ‘We Disappear’ ends with the poppermost ‘Blue Whale’, which will infiltrate your ever waking hour for at least ten days after you’ve listened to it.

Three inches of heaven (steady).

Giving it all away

Hello! Before I disappear up to Grimsby for the weekend, I'd like to ask any bands that want to be on Life Has It In For Us Vol. 3 to email me. I'll be giving the third episode on this sorry story out for free at Indietracks, so you'll be getting your music out to the movers, shakers and freeloaders of the European indiepop scene. That's about 145 people, by my reckoning.

My email address is over there on the right. Send me your songs.

Boy Genius – Staggering (Greenpop Recordings)

Tread carefully ye who tar Boy Genius as the dreaded ‘college rock’, because there’s so much more to them and this wonderfully-crafted album than that.

‘Staggering’ has all the hallmarks of mid-90s American indie, but also draws heavily on bands like Go Betweens and Orange Juice and even early REM at times. I’m not one to call albums ‘classical’, but this is one that draws from just about every cool influence and mixes them up just about right. However, it’s neither a blind copy nor some kind of homage – more an amalgamation of your record collection.

What’s more, the band wanted this to sound so timeless that they’ve refused to release it on CD. You can only buy it on vinyl or on one of those new fangled download things, which I daren’t ever explore.

Boy Genius would go down a storm in the church at Indietracks, and I believe they’re on the waiting list should anyone drop out. Could this be my chance to maim an indiepop band already booked? I don’t think I’ll get a better one. Suggestions on a postcard, please.

Going out is the new staying in

There was an interesting message come through on facebook this afternoon (not a sentence I thought I'd ever type) from Danny at Tweefort, which mentions Indietracks, and calls is "huge", which is very sweet. And I mean that in a totally unpatronising way, honest. It also mentions that Chariots of Tuna are playing the festival, and outlines Elm City Popfest, amongst a load of other stuff. He's a busy man, that Danny. I wish I had both his get up and his go.

Which sort of ties in well with a thread on the anorak forum about promoting gigs – it’s mainly aimed at the little people like me and you who do it all for the love of seeing bands that normally wouldn’t come to your town or city and play, unless you offered to arrange a gig for them.

Simon from the excellent Sweeping the Nation blog seems to have had more bad luck than normal as he’s started out promoting gigs in Leicester – a place that has been, sadly, a bit of a backwater for indiepop acts for a few years now. He’s gone through the rigamarole of acts cancelling on him, five people showing up, venues double booking on him – the lot really.

Other replies in the thread sort of made me wonder why I bother putting gigs on in Nottingham, because, for sure, there are loads of negatives along the way, and it’d be easy to just think, “bugger it” and stop putting on shows.

But it’d make for a pretty dull existence popwise in Nottingham for me if I did that.

The last time I stopped putting on gigs, I stopped for about six years, and I think I can count on two hands (both mine, since you ask) the number of gigs I went to in that time. There’s always going to come a time now and again when you fall out of love with music, but there’s nothing that concentrates the mind more than looking at the listings for Rock City or Rescue Rooms.

The main hurdle, of course, is attracting a crowd – not easy when you’re so ridiculously (and thankfully) out of touch with the local hip scene who seem to turn up to anything that involves a harp and three bottles of half empty water being played over a Captain Beefheart guitar.

So what to do? Flyer like mad? Impossible in Nottingham where DHP actively rips down flyers for gigs that its not involved in (and I’ve followed one of their monkeys around and watched him doing this (I was bored)). Rely on friends coming from all over the country to boost numbers? Well, they do, and I’m eternally grateful for that, but that’s not how it’s SUPPOSED to be. Or do you sell your soul to a local band who you don’t really like but who might bring a few people in? I’ve done this once a few years ago, and I’m not doing it again. I’d have rather missed my own gig and stayed in and watched Dancing on Ice than watch them again.

I don’t think there is an answer to fetching loads of people in. And nor does it worry me that much any more. Like Marianthi said, there’s droplets of joy to be taken in the most sparse of crowds – especially if that crowd is having the time of its time, and the band has connected with that and is playing its heart out. Which probably makes me sound like a hippy, but still…

On the same thread it’s easy to see how Andy Hart got so disillusioned with a year’s gig promotion. Having to be hard-nosed and cynical (not that he is or was, the big softy) to make it a success sort of negates why you’re doing it in the first place. And that’s understandable. I just used gigs for an excuse to get a bit tipsy as much as anything, and if i lose fifty quid then I, rightly or wrongly, think that I'd probably spend that on a good night out anyway.

And of course it’s not on if you lose loads of money, but, here’s a thing: people in bands are usually really quite nice, and if you speak to them they’ll usually understand that you’re not Vince Power and have to be up for work in the morning just like they do. And they’ll probably shrug their shoulders and put it down to experience.

Which is what you should do.

Because it’s better than staying in and watching Dancing on Ice.

Various - The Matinee Grand Prix (Matinee)

I love that Matinee continue to put these albums out, as a sort of taster of what pop nuggets the casual observer can find on the label. It's how I first became aware of Matinee, and for that I'll always be grateful to Jimmy for having the time and love to bother.

Of all the Matinee compilations over the years, this is perhaps the most diverse. Yes, you know what you're going to get from the likes of Northern Portrait, The Lucksmiths (whose posthumous presence here reminds that a supreme band has fallen), and Tender Trap - and that's ace pop sketches.

But there's also the mysterious Clay Hips' marvellous, understated electropop masterpiece in 'Disappointed', which brings back the best moments of Baxendale or Fosca. And that's backed up by Simpatico's fragile 'Australian Idle', and most excitingly, Maths and Physics Club's 'I Keep to Myself', which builds on the soft synths on their last ep to exciting effect.

Three tracks out of eleven doesn't mean that Matinee is about to turn away from the meat and potatoes indiepop, of course, but it's a pleasant surprise to find an indiepop label that's not afraid to step off the beaten track now and again. A smashing little snapshot of an always loveable label.

Endless fun

There aren't many occasions when I wish I could go and dance in a disco these days, but after a day of stress at work, then you sort of need some release right?

So, you can listen to This Many Boyfriends, 'Allo Darlin', Pocketbooks, Northern Portrait, the bloody lovely Awesomelies - and you can revel in that, of course.

But blimey, crikey, just like I used to stick on a Ned's Atomic Dustbin record (what?) to bash the blues away when I was nowt but a nipper in Grimsby, then nowadays I'm lucky enough to know a song called 'Endless' by Kissamatic Lovebubbles which gives all the thrills I need.

I was lucky enough to see the outpouring of love that The Regulars gave Pete Green, but how I wish I'd seen 'Endless' played by Kissamatic Lovebubbles. The bands sound so similar, so alive and so fresh, even though they're both dead and gone.

But pop doesn't die, right?

I've might've had a drink.