Top Ten Haircut Songs

Thanks to Penelope, I've started work on a new Top Ten Music feature... yet it's rather spiralled out of control and might take a little more work than these countdowns normally do. In the meantime, I'll keep up with the random playlists... this one's for anybody who's had a new haircut this week.

Special mention goes to Nick Heyward, the nicest popstar I ever met, and Haircut 100. Where do we go from here? Is it down to the lake, I fear...

Runners up included SFA's Ice Hockey Hair, Mercury Rev's Car Wash Hair, The Charlatans' Jesus Hairdo and Half Man Half Biscuit's tragic Hair Like Bryan May Blues...

But these, in my humble opinion, are the dos that most definitely do.

10. George Thorogood - Get A Haircut

"...and get a real job!"

Sage advice from George T. Pity I never took it.

9. Tracie Young - Boy Hairdresser

I think it was JC, The Vinyl Villain who introduced me to Tracie Young, probably because I wasn't paying enough attention during her brief 15 minutes back in 1984. This song was co-written by Paul Weller and seemed set to spur her on to stardom, particularly when she was voted Most-Fanciable Female by the readers of Smash Hits. Sadly, twas not to be.

8. The Waifs - Haircut

The Waifs are an Australian band I really must investigate in more depth. They're darker underneath...

7. Pavement - Cut Your Hair

Scruffy bunch of American indie scalliwags with not a decent haircut between 'em. Shave 'em all and send 'em in the army - 'specially Malkmus!

6. Jim White - Combing My Hair In A Brand New Style

"He used a blue hair comb with a busted tooth
To comb out the tangles of his messed-up youth."

If only it was that easy.

5. The Divine Comedy - Bernice Bobs Her Hair

Her hair was long
Her hair was dark
Her hair flowed down her back
And now it lies upon the floor
Bernice runs out the door

None on her head, just down her back, as the old Eric Morecambe gag goes.

4. Beck - Devil's Haircut

Beck updates Stagger Lee and introduces him to 90s consumerism via a Noel Gallager remix.

3. Regina Spektor - Samson

Ah, Regina Spektor, whatever happened? Begin To Hope was such a perfect album... why did its follow-up, Far, leave me so cold? Who cut your hair in between records?

2. Morrissey - Hairdresser On Fire

Poor old Morrissey, even his hairdresser's too busy to see him. Apparently there are barber shops in both Connecticut and Copenhagen named after this song.

1. Billy Bragg - Walk Away Renée

With Johnny Marr playing the tune of The Left Banke's 60s hit as backing, Billy makes up his own heartbreaking lyrics - a short story of young love doomed by infidelity and haircuts. Perfect.



So go on then, what's your favourite haircut song?

Our Tragic Universe

Meg is a writer of formulaic genre fiction and newspaper book reviews who harbours dreams of a proper, serious, literary novel... but deletes more than she keeps. She's obsessed with the idea of a storyless story, of breaking away from the archetypal plot structures that define the majority of successful fiction and finding something "super-authentic and with so much emotional truth that none of it seems like a story at all". When given a pop-science book about the potential resurrection of everyone who's ever lived at the end of the universe, Meg at first scorns the concept... but then begins to look at ways of incorporating it into her novel. Meanwhile, a number of other stories are happening all around her. A wild, wolf-like beast is terrorising Dartmoor. An old acquaintance stands on the verge of Hollywood stardom via Anna Karenina. Meg's whiny boyfriend Christopher is doing her nut in, and the older man she secretly fancies is giving her very confusing signals. All her friends are having affairs, a mysterious ship in a bottle washes up on the beach, and knitting socks is far more difficult than it looks.

Has Scarlett Thomas succeeded where Meg seems unable? Is Our Tragic Universe a truly storyless story? It certainly comes close. It feels real and "super-authentic" - so much so, I wondered just how much was autobiographical. It contains a great deal of "emotional truth", the kind that has you thinking about your own life and the decisions that shape it. And it doesn't feel much like a story... at all. Yet it has the page-turnery drive of a thriller even though very little happens. And as anyone who's read Thomas's earlier books (The End Of Mr. Y, Popco, Going Out, Bright Young Things) will know, this writer has a style that sucks you in and swallows you whole. Not for everyone then, but for anyone who likes to think from time to time.

Richard Curtis... All Is Forgiven

After the genius of Blackadder, the crimes of Richard Curtis live on in infamy. The Vicar of Dibley. Mr. Bean. Love Actually. Culminating in the most woefully disappointing film of last year, The Boat That Rocked... it really seemed like there was no way back for him.

So I wasn't looking forward to last night's Doctor Who. Particularly as the Moffat/Smith Who resurrection has been so consistently strong till now, finally realising the potential this show had so often squandered under Russell T. Davies. The last thing I'd expected was the most emotional piece of mainstream telly I've seen in many a year.

Manipulatively sentimental? You could say that. If you were more of a cynic than me. (If you are more of a cynic than me, I pity you, I really do.) The last 15 minutes of last night's Doctor Who had me fighting back tears the whole way. I'm not entirely sure I can put into words just why... but that's never stopped me before. Firstly, the idea of an artist who spends his whole life feeling unappreciated finally, for one brief moment, getting to see how that will change after his death. Secondly, the loneliness of Van Gogh himself (brilliantly brought to life by Tony Curran). Loneliness as a theme that always gets to me. I keep coming back to that quote from Mother Teresa, "the most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved". And that was a woman who'd seen poverty in all its forms. Finally, the idea that the Doctor and Amy not only give Vincent a few fleeting moments of friendship, happiness, and accomplishment... but that by doing so, may even have hastened his eventual suicide. Who knows how a bipolar personality would respond to being shown what the Doctor showed Vincent? That's the real sting in this tale.

So, thank you Richard Curtis. And thank you Steven Moffat, for the rehabilitation of Richard Curtis. Perhaps that dreaded Neil Gaiman episode will turn out OK after all...

Death Of A Salesman

Considering all the years I've spent in this terrible, terrible occupation, it should come as little surprise to anyone that one of my favourite plays is Arthur Miller's Death Of A Salesman. If he'd ever written a sequel - say Torture & Mutilation Of A Salesman, I'd have been its biggest fan. But the truth is I loved DOAS long before I began swimming with sharks. It's one of those plays they get you to study in High School, and rightly so. In many ways it's a cautionary tale about the danger of ambition, and about pursuing a career based solely around the acquisition of wealth and material possessions when, obviously, true happiness lies elsewhere. Willie Loman isn't a likeable hero, but he is a hugely sympathetic one - especially as portrayed by the superb Philip Jackson in the recent production at the West Yorkshire Playhouse.

It's a good few years since I last saw Death Of A Salesman, but this time it really kicked me in the balls. Perhaps it's the sort of play that hurts more as you get older, or perhaps this was just a really powerful production. Willy Loman is a man whose whole life is built around the self-delusion that he is popular, that he is successful, that he is "well-liked"... when in truth he's a man long past his prime, if he ever really had one. How long can such a man continue to fool his family, his friends - even (especially) himself? It makes you question your own sense of self. I never consider myself particularly "well-liked", I certainly never consider myself any kind of success... but there are many other ways in which we fool ourselves about our worth in this world, or how others see us.

I cried at the end of this performance, but was I crying for Willie Loman... or all of us?

Holiday Catch-Up

Honestly, I take a few days off and everything happens! Lost finishes. Denis Hopper and Gary Coleman die. Jack Bauer goes off the deep end. So much to blog about, so little time...

I did consider adding to the morass that's doubtless already been scrawled in online blood and viscera about the last Lost, but in the end I prefer to let it stand. As far as I'm concerned, they delivered. I found it was a hugely satisfying conclusion both in terms of narrative and emotion. I can't imagine a more rewarding wrap-up, taking into account everything that's gone before. Yes, I could pick. I could niggle that this character or that didn't get the attention they deserved. I could wonder where Mr. Eko was (he wanted too much money?) but where would it get me? More than any other show, the Lost finale could so easily have fallen flat or failed to perform. It didn't. It made the whole journey feel worthwhile.

(See? That's me not saying anything and letting it stand.)



On from that, a few more highlights... and lowlights... from our holiday. Let's start with the underwhelming: Aira Force. Billed as the most famous of the Lake District waterfalls, a 20 minute hike led us through a pleasant forest of pine till we reached...

This.



I've seen a fair few waterfalls in my day, in all parts of the country. I love a good waterfall. But generally I expect a little more than a giant wee. For an area as breathtakingly impressive as the Lakes, I expected more from Aira Force. Maybe we just caught it on a bad day.

Far more impressive were the quartet of ducklings we encountered getting swimming lessons from their mum in Dovedale, Derbyshire. It's not that clear from the pictures, but they had to work their way upstream - a mini-waterfall that was in its own way far less disappointing than Aira Force - yet despite their tiny size and the speed of the river, they all managed... to cheers from the gathered spectators.




One curiosity we encountered both in the Peaks and the Lakes was the Log O' Coins. A large tree trunk at the side of the path with loads of 10 and 2p coins hammered into it... for no reason I could divine. If you've ever encountered such a spectacle, perhaps you know the why. Is it a good luck thing (a wooden wishing well)? Or something far more sinister...? Where's Mulder and Scully when you need them?



The guest house we stayed at in the Peaks was truly idyllic. The weather helped, of course, but taking afternoon tea and scones in the garden was like something from a dream... or Alice In Wonderland, minus the insanity.



But the real highlight of our week away was a little furry blighter called Dinky. Last time we visited this particular part of the Lakes, we met some very tame and friendly deer. On popping down to visit them again (they eat grass out of your hand), we found something even cuter. A newborn donkey. Again, the photos just don't do him justice - but sadly, this is as close as we could get.

Thoughtballoons - Molecule Man

This week's Thoughtballoons character, as chosen by Ben, is Owen Reece aka the Molecule Man. First appearing in Fantastic Four #20 back in 1963, Reece is a supervillain who can control molecules... which means he can do just about anything, if you think about it. That probably explains why he hasn't been used very much over the years - how do you stop someone with power over everything? Originally, Stan Lee gave him a mental block on using his powers on organic matter, but once he got over that Reece became more unstoppable than ever. Back in the 80s Jim Shooter tried to fix the character by making him a put-upon nerd rather than a genuinely evil man. He was dangerous because he was angry and lonely and scared, but he could usually be talked down from doing anything too drastic... especially when he found love.

I have a bit of a problem with characters who are too powerful - hence why I never really got into Superman. Molecule Man is like Superman x 10 though, and I took that as the starting point of my story. How do you stop a man who can do anything? Maybe you can't.

You can check out my Molecule Man 1-page story by clicking here. Take a few minutes to read the other guys' stories too, particularly Matt's - if you're a They Might Be Giants fan.

Woke Up Screaming

I woke up screaming last night. Have you ever done that? I guess I must have been having some kind of nightmare, but I have no memory of it, not even a lingering sketch. All I do remember is lying there on my back, a screaming moan in my chest, repeating three times until I finally forced myself awake. I was aware I was asleep, aware I was screaming, but for a few terrifying seconds there was nothing I could do to stop it. I wanted to wake up but I couldn't. It was awful. Still, perfectly understandable, I suppose. Yesterday was my first day back at work after my holiday. That's enough to make anybody scream.

It freaks me out sometimes the things you do when you're asleep. I've never sleepwalked (that I remember), but I do recall one time we were on holiday, staying in a little cottage in Cornwall, and I woke in the morning to find the pillow missing from my bed. It was over by the door, wedged underneath as though I'd been trying to stop poison gas getting in or something.

What's the weirdest thing you've done in your sleep? Come on, make me feel a little better at least...