when did hi-fi become A/V?

An unexpected diversion, what with de-snowing the cars and the drive. I was surprised how much time it took, a function of it being an unusual occurrence. Little things like finding the proper snow boots, not seen since last time at Jungfraujoch.

Having abandoned the day's original plans, it was an excuse to practice Being Idle.

I flipped on some music and let the system select the tracks for me, which was perfectly fine, within the limits I had given it.

My idleness led me to doodle a quick picture of what used to be called Hi-Fi (does anyone still say that?) and nowadays is probably called 'Audio Visual' or similar.

So here we are. Probably of no interest to anyone but me, but it somehow illustrates the demise of the Gramophone.

There used to be a simple path from a record shop to a record player and then to a listening experience. I still use that route for occasional purchases.

I still like the artwork of 12 inch LP albums, which could be quite special. Not so with most CDs, which bang a cover shot of the band on the front and big words in the top third that can be read from across the store.

Of course, that's dying out too, with digital downloads. If I'm honest, I used to surprise people quite a few years ago because I didn't keep those little brittle plastic boxes that most CDs came in. I'd always thrown away the outer packaging, just keeping the CD and the booklet.

OK, except for properly created artworks, of which there are still some around. I do still keep that type of CD intact.

So I guess I've been heading to digital for quite a few years.

Cue digital downloads, which signalled the potential demise of HMV and Blockbuster. Canals and railways.

Nowadays even the amplifiers are network attached. My last amplifier came with a little cardboard box in it containing a USB stick with the latest firmware upgrade to be applied before use. Of course I downloaded the more recent one online.

To be honest, I'm not sure how many people even bother nowadays with amplifiers and receivers, instead using little speaker units into which they can drop iPhones and similar.

My scribbly diagram illustrates some of the listening routes available now.

Buy from:

• (a) an independent band or store. Still get physical product, good artwork, usually a download as well and some personal engagement.
• (b) a record shop or store. Harder to find, yet places like Fopp and Rough Trade in London are still jam-packed with people.
• (c) online, from Amazon or iTunes, or via a broker like Last.fm which will point to the cheapest source. Amazon still gives a choice of CD or online product, but increasingly it's becoming online biased on price.
• (d) Supermarkets. Xfactorish. Nope.

Then there's all the cloud services. Everyone wants to suggest that you don't need the physical product at all.

Even with my throwing away of CD boxes, I find this one step too far. T'interweb is strewn with failed companies. It would be a tragedy to see all the licences to listen go up in a puff of Chapter 11. I download everything. And back it up.

What it means, though, is that nowadays, there's both the stuff you own and also a good range of relevant listening suggestions from the likes of last.fm or spotify.

And they do work quite well, suggesting and playing music of the type I like, rather than just blanding me out with 'Top of the Pops' pap.

So I'm with the direction. Even if it does take a bit longer to wire up than an old Dansette.

Trashed Organ Fringe: Rob Heron and Tea Pad Orchestra

Sunday saw us along at the Cumberland Arms, which was running its ten year birthday celebration. A packed and lively scene, which included a wide range of musicians performing.

Here's Rob Heron and the Tea Pad Orchestra, although we've cheated slightly and included a number from their set at Trashed Organ.

festival conditions creating alternate reality

Festival conditions make blogging rather difficult.

Seem to be getting some good views of the bands.

More later.

grooving in a field

Sun. Sea.

You get the picture.

Dusting off the strange headgear for a long weekend in a field with music.

blue flashing lights are affecting my listening choices

I want to be listening to music that brings the cops around at the moment. High clock speed. Not necessarily loud, but with something to say.

So somehow Andrew Bird's new CD isn't quite doing it for me, despite my high hopes. Noble Beast. It's all pleasant enough, highly accomplished and sonically beautiful. I think it will work well as dinner party background music, but I'm not sure that I'd listen to it as a direct choice. The reviewers appear to be giving it excellent scores, and I'm sure its just me that's out of step.

Take "Not a Robot, but a ghost", which is supposed to be a stand-out track and has some clever ticky-tocky mechanicals in it, gypsy mandolin and sentient machines. I'm still finding it passing me by as a sort of swishy sweep.

Its just a passing phase I know. I shall have to keep listening to songs with titles like "Incident in a Medical Clinic" and "Burn your life down" until I come out the other side. Reprieved until a retinue of moons have passed.

animal collective merriweather post pavilion

I've been listening the new Animal Collective CD in the car recently. It came in a neat little digi-pack with an outer box of optical illusion and an inner sleeve with their name on it. The album also seems to have a sort of double layer, and I've noticed that a few of the reviewers have referenced 'Beach Boys' and surf sounds as part of the description, perhaps because of the Press handout?

That's not really how I heard it, with it being a little reminiscent of how I'd imagine a 70s prog-rock group like "Yes" would play dance music, if such a thing were possible. There's plenty of layers of synthesizers and soaring guitars, with a kind of electro pop back-beat. There's some proper lyrics that move it from pure dance to something with stories. Probably an analyst's delight.

I'll define its genre as 'blog-rock' because it's one of those bands where the fan following is generated from on-line leaks of tracks and subsequent discourse. Part of the new music model and something that Amanda Palmer commented on during the gig on Wednesday. The need to find the connection from the artist to the fans in new ways. In the ballroom we all texted our email addresses to a special phone number during the gig to stay connected.

I suppose the difference is between the musicians who are in it for the long haul (AnCo started back somewhere in the nineties, I think) versus the sleb-based X factory productions speedily filling Mr Cowell's deep trousers.

In the UK around 80,000 sales of a single attain a chart number one to promote an album. Almost better for the record company to save the marketing budget, just buy up the quantity and get the chart position for the subsequent album.

Lily Allen just made the top spot with 'The Fear' describing celebrity vacuity, sold as an £2.97 EP with every track laced with ***** words. Not banned; yet the Palmer single about stark teenage denial banned everywhere except, intriguingly, the BBC.

I understand the need for innocent uplifting pap pop of the "It’s my time, my moment, I’m not gonna let go of it, I’ll stand proud, nothing I’m afraid of; I’ll show you what I’m made of, that its my time now" type. This can be used in song contests, stadiums and for political speeches with equivalent ease. "Clear the decks, light the lights". I almost feel a java song generator moment but I'll save it for another day.

Fortunately, whilst the labels such as 'progressive' and 'underground' may be deeply unfashionable, there's still enough alt.you-name-it music around to keep things interesting and even a resurgence in the old Yes-like bands with Rick Wakeman being granted permission to perform '6 Wives of Henry VIII' at Hampton Court after waiting a bizarre XXXVII years.

But enough dismantling, I feel should probably reach for a tie-dye tee shirt to just listen to Animal Collective, perhaps whilst staring at the cover art.

John - will this do?

black cab sessions

A bunch of the musicians I sometimes blog about have made it to the great heights of the black cab sessions and I thought a quick reminder would be useful. I see the sessions are mentioned in this week's Time Out too.

The process is simple enough. Get a band, hail a London black cab and ask the band to play in one take whilst on a journey - oh, introduced by the cab driver.

So top of this post its the Smoke Fairies.

...then Amanda Palmer playing Radiohead's Creep on Ukelele

...and to round it off, there would have to be something by Death Cab for Cutie (Geddit!)

There's another forty or more over at the black cab sessions site.