heard on the wire

Drop the hammers, drop the guns

Rothbury

I start my new career as a teacher very soon. That’s probably the scariest sentence I’ve ever written. A long holiday is coming to end, some 15 weeks after I completed my training, qualified-teacher-status recommendation in hand.

I’ve blogged. Suzi and I have been to the beach, many times. I may have drunk a little too much from time to time. We’ve decorated the spare bedroom. I’ve even managed to find my way around the NatWest website, so no one can say I haven’t achieved anything.

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You can’t beat a boy who loves New Order

DeeDee

There are some bands who get a free pass, whose new records will be bought without a second thought, who even manage to survive the occasional indiscretion.

The Fall, Half Man Half Biscuit, Nick Cave, Helen Love, the Wedding Present and Cinerama are definitely on that list, but top of it are New Order. That they’re top is odd in some ways, since of them all they have perhaps committed the worse indiscretion — the mediocrity that was their last full LP, Waiting for the Sirens’ Call whose low points, the title track and the Scissor Sister-accompanied Jetstream, are such an execrably bad records that I stopped buying every version I could find, something I’d been doing since I bought Temptation on seven- and 12-inch.

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Truth is I miss those days

A19

It’s been just over a month since I resurrected this blog and the subsequent catching up I’ve done has certainly been enlightening.

As I mentioned, much of my listening over the previous year had been confined to car journeys, thus accompanied by a variety of noise and disturbances that, I’ve discovered, obscured many of the delights.

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We are the great unwashed

Rotterdam

I’ve just time for a few words before Suzi and I head south for a week in the Netherlands.

It will be our third visit in the last 15 months to a country that seems to get so much right where this country lamentably fails, whether it’s urban architecture, transport policy or producing technically competent footballers. They even like cricket.

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He wonders if she scores

Motherwell

There’s not a lot to do in Scotland on New Year’s Day, save nurse a hangover. And where better to nurse a hangover than at the football?

Thus on January 1 2014, Andy, Suzi and I set off from Andy’s flat in Edinburgh, headed for the nearest top-flight game, Motherwell versus St Johnstone. Fir Park is a proper football ground with proper pies. And the entertainment befitted the stage, Motherwell, riding high in the league, ran out 4–0 winners.

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heard on the wire is a blog about music old and new, but mostly new. It occasionally uses 21st century file formats that may not be supported by 20th century web browsers. For best results use Safari or Chrome. And If you like the music posted here, please think of the effort and expense that has gone into making it and consider buying a copy of your own.

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All the music on this site is posted to encourage listeners to enjoy it and then rush out and buy as many songs by the artist as they possibly can. Any artist, record label boss, publisher or other rightsholder who doesn't want their works featured here only needs to get in touch and the offending file(s) will be removed at the earliest opportunity.