Thursday, July 19, 2001
Just been listening to Teenage Fanclub's Songs From Northern Britain for the first time in ages. I was so skint when this came out that I bought it on tape, and I've never replaced it with a CD. You can keep your Lighthouse Family, this music is what the word 'lifted' was invented for. Ever since Grand Prix I've been hooked. It's the Beach Boys thing, the Byrds thing, the way Gerry Love can write a song which makes me so happy I just might burst. Ain't That Enough just soars - '...Toy town feelings, there to remind you / Summer in the city, do what you gotta do...'. Couple that with the fact that quite unwittingly my record collection has grown to be 50% Glaswegian (Belle & Sebastian, Orange Juice, The Delgados, BMX Bandits, The Amphetameanies etc...) and there they all are, on each others records, playing at each others gigs, popping round each others' house for a cup of sugar...and doing my bank balance serious damage. Good news though - Norman has been playing with the wonderful Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, another band who make me go all gooey - album out in September, to include live favourite Honeymoon With You, and about bluddy time too.
OK, so not *everyone* likes the 'Fannies - none of my friends do. But they smilingly put up with my starry-eyed gushing every time a new record comes out, and occasionally brave a TFC gig with me, if only to ensure that I don't invade the stage in an over-affectionate frenzy, leaving Messrs Love, Blake and co. hospitalised...
Right, after over a week of yelling, '...Damn!' every time I go into the bathroom, I've finally remembered to buy replacement batteries for the shower radio, so I'm off for a bath with John Peel. Probably at the wrong speed.
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OK, so not *everyone* likes the 'Fannies - none of my friends do. But they smilingly put up with my starry-eyed gushing every time a new record comes out, and occasionally brave a TFC gig with me, if only to ensure that I don't invade the stage in an over-affectionate frenzy, leaving Messrs Love, Blake and co. hospitalised...
Right, after over a week of yelling, '...Damn!' every time I go into the bathroom, I've finally remembered to buy replacement batteries for the shower radio, so I'm off for a bath with John Peel. Probably at the wrong speed.
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