Do You Like To Think?

THE THINKING FAN'S GUIDE TO THE WORLD CUP


If you're getting excited about the World Cup and aren't interested in watching anything else, wearing anything else, drinking anything else (Coca Cola, apparantly) or reading anything else, I thoroughly recommend that you pick up a copy of The Thinking Fan's Guide To The World Cup. Edited and compiled by Sean Wilsey (Mc Sweeney's) and Matt Weiland (Granta), it's a veritable landmine of information on football and statistics about this year's tournament, but for (us) people who don't care about Japan's qualifying route, the real attraction of this book is how informatively and entertainingly it deals with each of the 32 competing nations. Contributing short stories of thrilling non-fiction, we have authors like the marvellous Dave Eggers writing on his native USA, Nick Hornby investigating the Land of Eng and Eric Schlosser on a quest to discover Sweden.

The prefaces from the editors are particularly interesting as they explain how, as 2 Americans, they became obsessed with the tournament in the first place. Wilsey also describes the heartbreak of seeing nations such as Ireland and Uruguay fail to reach Germany, as the book would have featured additions by writers of the calibre of Roddy Doyle and Eduardo Galeano had they been successful.

You'll also pick up a series of thrilling facts, such as the Muslim decree which means that Saudi Arabian footballers are putting their lives at risk by competing (if a team member scores a goal and celebrates "like the players in America and France do, you should spit in his face, punish him and reprimand him"). The harrowing statistic that the average age of death of an Angolan native (it's their World Cup debut) is 38 years of age means that even their team's child prodigies would be currently experiencing mid-life crisises.

For anyone with an interest in the world (that's you), this is an essential almanac.

Buy it at Amazon.

Official website

Jim Noir: Eanie Meany
You may as well!

Kids Do Care.

SIMPLE KID IN CRAWDADDY - 04.06.06


With around 500 avid fans filling the intimate venue and “tickets only” being yelled from the entrance, it’s obvious that Simple Kid’s low-key (and late night) return to his home country’s capital is going to be a special night. Back when Mike Skinner was deemed revolutionary for recording an album in his bedroom that didn’t really sound like it had been made in his bedroom, Kieran Mc Feely had done the same thing, except his LP was actually amazing. Despite having been recorded in 8 tracks on a laptop with a (presumably) bad soundcard, it featured massive stadium-filling drums, perfect choruses and harmonica playing that led reviewers to the lazy belief that this guy was some sort of reincarnation of Bob Dylan. In actuality, he was a more focused, pumped-up and country-tinged Badly Drawn Boy or Beck, with a penchant for lyrics depicting himself as a pining underachiever with a distaste for modern society.

Tonight, he opens with King Kong, a newbie from his forthcoming album (simplicity entitles the record ‘2’) and regardless of it not being a groundbreaking departure from his sound (if it ain’t broken…), it’s brilliantly anthemic and received by the fans like a lost brother might be, if he was actually a really good song. Alternating his instrument (guitar, banjo and harmonica; often simultaneously), he plays over backing tracks which are projected from Cubase on his laptop to a screen behind him, and if he feels like a spot of improvisation, he just pauses the track and does what he likes. Innovatively, his laptop also conducts the audience in a karaoke version of Running, despite it being the song’s first ever performance.

Golden oldies such as Staring at the Sun, Truck On and The Commuter warrant mass singalongs (“this is like a really bad version of Queen at Wembley arena!”) and the Kid looks genuinely overwhelmed, particularly during The Commuter’s rousing rebel chant of “I said to my boss ‘go fuck yourself’” and when we effortlessly recite the endless list of facts of The Average Man that even he can’t remember. Unfortunately, his ecstasy soon turns to dismay when a small group of hecklers, uninterested in new material, call a halt to his presentation of a touching piano-led tune which - despite only around 90 seconds of undisturbed beauty - has the air of a classic. Visibly bothered by the few drunken “fans”, he tied things up as quickly as possible with a selection of songs from his debut. Despite being deprived of hearing some of the exclusives that his Cubase setlist hinted towards, what we heard of SK2 promises it to be another masterful piece from the eclectic, talented and thoughtful multi-instrumentalist.

Staring At The Sun
Link stolen from Music For Ants

His myspace

May I Recommend?

BISHOP ALLEN


Butterfly Nets
When Bishop Allen announced that their now-traditional experimentation with their sound on their May EP would come in the form of a saxophone, I was understandably weary. For non-jazz boffins like me, a saxophone exists only for Bleedin' Gums Murphy or Lisa Simpson to play tuneless solos. So when the particular song begins as their first ever female-fronted track with the beautiful backing of a ukulele, it's a surprise. This wonderful song is definitely one of the best summer tunes of all time. That clearly puts it in the running for best song of 2006, without a question. It's the softer, brighter sister of the Velvet Underground's amazing After Hours with an even more hummable melody, and when the saxophone sneaks into proceedings, it does so extremely cleverly and subtly. And the lyrics (Darbie sings about catching butterflies to keep herself company) couldn't be more fitting.

This is everything perfect about the summer summed up in three minutes. It'll be interesting to see what other delights are on the May EP (let alone the June, July and August editions!) and the only way to find out is to order it now.