tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65201862011-07-31T04:31:20.748+01:00One Music Addict's Addiction DiaryPaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-36439451174685409322010-09-29T15:18:00.000+01:002010-09-29T15:18:13.270+01:00

Nothing whatsoever to do with music this time (and it's been a very LONG time, I know!), but the current growth in eBooks got me thinking, resulting in the following partly-baked thoughts: If eBooks are thought of as a simple consumer product, they will fail. Books are not simply products that are purchased from a retail outlet, read, and then either discarded or stored away. Far more than that,

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1118134225561747732005-06-07T09:40:00.000+01:002005-06-07T09:50:25.566+01:00

This is just a quick entry to let you all know that I'm having my fifteen minutes of fame on BBC 6 Music this week. Gideon Coe's show, 10am-1pm Monday to Friday, has a feature called "Hit The Decs", where listeners are invited to send in a list of 5 tracks, one from each of the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s, 00s (decs = decades, geddit?). Each week, one listener's list is selected and the tracks are played,

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1117043569651335612005-05-25T18:11:00.000+01:002005-05-25T18:52:49.670+01:00

I'm going through a bit of a prog-rock revival at the moment. I think it all started a couple of years ago when I bought the Genesis Archive 1967-75 box set (I'd won a £25 Virgin voucher in a competition, so it was an impulse purchase). As the live performances of Gabriel-era favourites like "Dancing With The Moonlit Knight", "Supper's Ready" and the complete "The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway"

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1111360614958465252005-03-20T22:50:00.000Z2005-03-21T08:56:44.756Z

As one who long ago abandoned the wastelands of Radio 1, save for the curmudgeonly delights of John Peel's various programmes - even that avenue of pleasure now being closed since the tragedy of last October - I've been amazed to find myself rediscovering the pleasures of the Beeb's national radio stations. Radio 1 is still a no-no, even though I love the genuine enthusiasm of Colin and Edith;

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1109673944779020302005-03-01T10:06:00.000Z2005-03-01T10:45:44.783Z

My CD collection is starting to preoccupy me. Not the music - though there are always three or four earworms vying for headspace, even when I'm not actually listening to anything. No, it's the sheer logisitical nightmare of Owning A Large CD Collection that's tying my brain in knots at the moment.Once upon a time, I only bought and listened to - broadly speaking - pop and rock albums, be it

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1108942588955802742005-02-20T23:31:00.000Z2005-02-20T23:36:28.956Z

A comment from Stu read:The problem is that by listening to a wide variety of music and making up their own minds, the general public is buying music which is good, rather than 'music' that the music industry would like them to buy.Spot on, Stu. I have this wonderful daydream where bands sell all their CDs by direct mail order and/or downloading via their own websites. A number of bands,

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1108906934931915782005-02-20T13:11:00.000Z2005-02-20T13:42:14.933Z

Back in the old vinyl days, every other album inner-sleeve was printed with dire warnings that "Home Taping Is Killing Music". I spent many an idle moment trying to envisage this: a big, jolly Treble Clef being battered to death by hordes of screaming Phillips Cassette-players, swinging microphones like morningstars around their (tape)heads, perhaps? Of course, what they REALLY meant was "Home

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1103126103611022452004-12-15T15:35:00.000Z2004-12-15T18:44:17.323Z

Since quite early in the year, we'd been eagerly looking forward to 4th December, since the Birmingham Royal Ballet had seen the error of their ways, and were once more presenting The Nutcracker as their Christmas special. Whilst last year's digression, a brand new production of Beauty And The Beast, was spectacular, I'm afraid my inner brat sulked at being denied its annual fix of The Nutcracker

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1099648858336795142004-11-05T09:25:00.000Z2004-11-05T10:00:58.336Z

I can't for the life of me recall which band recorded a little link for John Peel's "Sounds Of The 70s" show, which went something like: Dancing John Peel He's a real big deal And he's oh so real. ...but real he certainly was. And now he's gone. Three generations of rock fans had their tastes and attitudes to pop and rock music irrevocably widened and honed by Peelie's shows; what the hell is

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1095852143853910682004-09-22T11:41:00.000+01:002004-09-22T12:22:23.853+01:00

I was pretty late coming to classical (or orchestral, or symphonic - whatever shorthand label you prefer) music. It coincided with turning thirty and acquiring my first CD player. The resulting expansion in my listening CV has been pure pleasure, but there is the odd associated niggling annoyance, mostly related to non-zealots' attitudes to "classical music" (whatever that is). First, there's

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1095186388378769522004-09-14T18:44:00.000+01:002004-09-14T19:26:28.376+01:00

Sometimes, the omens gather with just the right density to persuade me that I should revisit a previously-overlooked artist. Just prior to last year's Glastonbury festival the Beeb screened "Glastonbury Fayre", the film record of the 1971 festival. This included footage of a very young Fairport Convention, playing something manic and rootsy. "Mmm...", I thought, "I must check them out someday".

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1095160836405368922004-09-14T13:14:00.000+01:002004-09-14T12:20:36.406+01:00

I may have finally figured out what this blog should be. I'm a music obsessive, so this will simply be my responses to whatever music I've been hearing and buying recently. No limits - jazz, world, chamber, orchestral, roots and folk, blues, alt rock, prog rock, punk rock, seaside rock... well, maybe not that last one. I'm no critic, so those seeking the next Charles Shaar Murray or Nick Kent

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6520186.post-1095160251744562262004-09-14T11:54:00.000+01:002004-09-14T12:10:51.743+01:00

I've never got along with Bob Dylan's voice. For years I thought he was just a talentless, tuneless exemplar of The Emperor's New Clothes. Then someone pointed out how many of my favourite songs were actually written by The Zim. OK, at some subliminal level, I'd always known The Byrds' "Mr. Tambourine Man" was a Dylan choon, but I'd assumed he must have written it on one of his rare good days.

PaulVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04090540978254488604noreply@blogger.com1