We shan’t be working together again.

The end.

Angry if you’re reading this, it’s over. OVER. You crossed a line, dude. A line not just in the sand, but in the… - well, you know.

Only joking - something unforseen came up and it couldn’t be put off, so we’re going have to cancel, apologies.

You may have noticed that the podcast didn’t happen. We were due to do it last night, couldn’t due to illness, but we will be broadcasting the event live with video from 9pm on Wednesday at http:www.tiny.cc/angryandcliffvideo

There will be a live chatroom (although you don’t have to sign in at all) and we’ll be running twitter during the show and you’ll be able to see everything that goes into making the show from 9pm to about 11pm on Wednesday.

Mr Angry is working on his disguise, and I am a leeeeeelte bit nervous about it, to be honest.

See you then - well, I won’t, but you’ll see us.

We’re talking about a man who would spend his childhood Saturday mornings with his brothers locked behind gates in the mansion he’d paid for watching cartoons of themselves on TV. And that’s just the start.

I’ve written about him before here. He was a huge talent. The first album I ever bought – and thank FUCK it was a cool one – was Off The Wall. The year: 1977. Scene: garage sale. I spotted a second hand LP of a guy in a sharp suit and I bought it.

It’s still early days of course, but there are still many unanswered questions.

Who’s king of pop now? Prince? He might not want the job. Would the people accept him? We have yet to dipose the Kings Of Convenience, but they’re more figurative heads of state.

Or should pop now become a democracy, where we elect pop stars to represent us at a local level and govern for a set period of time? I quite like the look of the S Club Party.

So the signs. I was watching the Deer Hunter last night, I saw it on the progamme guide and knew it would be a late night. Why can’t I record it and watch it at a decent time? Why do I have to watch it just because it’s “on”? I don’t know, it’s just me. I’d decided, I was going to watch it up until the point where they go hunting and do the line. You know the one. Say it with me. Ecoutez et repetez.

After that I thought I’d go to bed, so right before I did I checked Twitter, and right then there reports that Michael Jackson had died, just at that minute. (Interesting to see the news fill time reading out celebrity tweets as part of their coverage) So for whatever reason, I was watching The Deer Hunter live because it makes the activity better, and then at the moment in the film that resonates most strongly with me, that’s when the story breaks.

No, I have no idea either. And don’t tell me I’d find significance in anything else that had happened at that moment. I’m not saying the two are connected, I’m just saying “odd”, that’s all.

Anyway, man, look. I know he’s dead and it’s a sad loss. There aren’t many global stars like him any more. I was thinking last night that people in Japan would be waking up to the news and just what that meant. He was huge, and rightly so.

Genius? No. Talented? Oh my god.

Have a great weekend.

It’s podcast 34, brought to you by the magic of pressing a record button and waiting a week before sending it out. Actually, the phone call at the end is quite clever. I am not dead, unless I am and someone else is writing this, although if someone had stolen my identity they could do a lot more damage than write on a dead man’s blog.

I’ve got credit cards, for example. And my work pass could probably do a lot of damage. Still, if someone wants to update this webstie and use my Oyster card to travel on London’s tubes in my image, then what do I care? I’m dead. Fuck ‘em.

No, I’m not dead.

In show 34 we talk about my days in pirate radio, young people who aren’t young people, my brush with the Take That extended family, professional Australians, puppy love and good ideas.

Follow us in twitter and send comments to @angryandcliff at http://twitter.com/angryandcliff

Download the podcast and subscribe with Itunes by clicking here. You can hear the podcast by pressing the play button below, or you can subscribe to the feed which is here.

Or you could join our Facebook group here and drop us an email at podcastREMOVE_THIS_BIT@iamlivid.com.

This struck me as funny.

Would it sound like James Mason?

But seriously, I like the NPR site. It’s not a great looking site, but there are so many ways to consume the news.

With any one story, you can listen to it and you can read it. If you’re a big consumer of their stuff, you can hear it in a radio programme and then more than likely catch the same item in a compilation programme which collates related stories.

This isn’t to say that they don’t have lots of stories, because they do. But they use them. Maybe it’s because I work in this area, but the way they package things up is great.

In London, I’m Cliff Jones.

It has been a busy week. And I was going to do that thing with the songs, wasn’t I?

I’ll spread those out, but in the meantime, watch this video. I love it whmusic does things you wouldn’t expect. I wonder how much trial and error went into doing this, because it’s fascinating. I often wondered what conductors do but here the contribution is like grass to a football game.

Enjoy and have a great weekend.

Murray mania "bigger than swine flu"

This week heard me and Mr Angry talking about office conversations, Batman costumes, if comey greats could cut it these days, breakdancing pensioners, groping in the cinema, Andy Murray, we go behind the scenes of the Judge Dredd movie and do the usual features.

We had our now-regular “tweet in”, this time about first date movies. As always, we check updates during the show so feel free to send comments to @ angryandcliff or follow the show at http://twitter.com/angryandcliff

Download the podcast and subscribe with Itunes by clicking here. You can hear the podcast by pressing the play button below, or you can subscribe to the feed which is here.

Or you could join our Facebook group here and drop us an email at podcastREMOVE_THIS_BIT@iamlivid.com.

We don’t really check the facebook page though, but it’s cool if you join it because then other people will see you’ve joined and that helps spread the word.

That’s my greeter, by the way. In case you were wondering. Since the redesign, I’ve been thinking of marketing ideas so I thought I’d get a greeter for this blog.

You know, like they have in shops when you go in? “Hi, how are you guys doing today?” That kind of thing. It’s a personal touch.

So I’ve been thinking more and more about writing a story, and I’ve made a start. Check it out:

There was a sky like lead that morning, soft and heavy. Under it sat a boy.

There had been dreams - chances, mostly, and he was burdened as usual, this time by the conviction that many of those ships, dreamboats if you like, had sailed. It was a false notion - most of them had merely slipped their moorings; but there was no telling that to Russell.

Still he faced the future, often with a fixed grin like that of a ballroom dancer, but the main thing is there was a future with him in it.

Let me tell you about Russell Dooley.

How about that shit? Who says there’s not a story in me? Oh yeah, I do.

Well, I’m full of it. Fuck you, me.

Is there anything you’re looking for in particular? This one is a very nice blog post. This one was written today.

The first line was something I wrote on twitter, so why not start a novel that way? I even have a working title:

“Heads Up, Bitches”

Nice, right? Anyway - Monday, and I promised you this week that you’d hear songs you never heard and here’s the first.

The songwriter is someone I know online from a while back and you can catch his band Cure For Static if you’re ever in Boston.

It’s by Jarrett Clayman and it’s full of great chords and has a great natural vibe.

Enjoy California Sky

Bye, thanks a lot.

The year is 1994. The place: The Old Trout in Windsor. It was a great venue, and there weren’t many places for bands to play other than London, and you couldn’t expect your friends to go an see bands up there. Signed groups and local acts used to play there, bands even did secret warm-up gigs before Reading. REM, Chili Peppers, PWEI all played there.

This blogger played there, too.  What? Check it out. April13, 1994. Headliners, baby. Ugly In Spring. Great days. Yep. Great days.

Anyway, vanity dispatched, you’ll see on April 8, Sebadoh played there and I went to the gig. There was the thrill of taking to the same stage in the same week as the mighty ‘doh.

Looking at the bill now, I can see Oasis played there two weeks later, but I hadn’t heard of them and Live Forever wasn’t released until late summer. We headlined a few weeks later, as did Blur. That day someone came to sign us, but the deal was awful so I didn’t go for it. Honestly. Haven’t I told you this? I’m sure I’ve written about this before.

Actually, I haven’t. I know it’s been nearly five years of blogging, but I’ve held a lot back. Stick around, I may learn something. But imagine if I had been signed though. Oh man, that would be cool. I could be a rock star right now, and instead of seeking approval and acceptance and sharing my soul while expressing myself in ways I can’t with people close to me, I’d be - oh, hang on…

Well, the thrill of playing that week was dampened somewhat because when we got home from the gig we heard that Kurt Cobain had died. He’d been dead three days, but was discovered that night.

But I digress. Or do I? There’s a backstory to this one, so you get two for one. It’s like dinner and a movie.

It’s funny. I take off the pressure of pledging to update the weekend song, and suddenly it doesn’t seem like a burden.

And it’s sad to feel this resistance
what once before had felt so free

 Listen - Think (Let Tomorrow Bee)

All while trying not to escape from excercise routines and spending time with kids. (Night At The Museum 2, y’all)

Every day next week you’ll have the chance to hear songs on here that you’ve never heard, by genuine unsigned bands who are very good.

I consider this a feather in my cap and yours, because I am not as in touch with new music as I’d like to be because of all of the above. I mean, (fnphhh…) I actually thought there was a new band called Sam And The Mumba.

OK, that’s not true.

Have a good weekend.

Also:
Pull Them Up

I had my foot on the keyboard and lurched forward and went “OK, Internet. Now it’s your turn!!!”

In a manner of speaking.

This week we asked you which songs mention the musical genre in the title. Obscure, perhaps, but I like that kind of thing, and it struck a chord hit a nerve somehow because lots of people wrote in, which is really impressive because I only posted the question on Twitter a couple of hours before the podcast.

We’ll do that again, because it’s fun, and for future reference, we check updates during the show so feel free to send comments to @ angryandcliff or follow the show at http://twitter.com/angryandcliff

Download the podcast and subscribe with Itunes by clicking here. You can hear the podcast by pressing the play button below, or you can subscribe to the feed which is here.

Or you could join our Facebook group here and drop us an email at podcastREMOVE_THIS_BIT@iamlivid.com. We don’t really check the facebook page though, but it’s cool if you join it because then other people will see you’ve joined and that helps spread the word.

Note to current employer: I understand the policy on blogging at my company. I do not write about work in these pages and the views expressed here are purely my own. For their sake and my own, this

Having said that, there are times when writing about work is possible, and in this case it is because it relates to a company which I will not name, I worked for a long time ago and with whom I did not sign agreement never to talk about them, which I may or may not have done with some other companies I left.

I have a very good bullshit meter. It can even pick out bullshit where the background bullshit count is very high. For example. I can pick out bullshit in a media organisation. It’s that good.

So it’s a senior manager’s the first day at the company and he’s trying to make an impression, but to me before we’ve even spoken it’s already playing out like jack the lad cum knob. Opps, that looks rude. I meant jack the lad stroke knob.

Me - “Where were you before?”

Him - “Big Ass Mediatech Corp.”

Me - “Oh, so you might know Paul Frost.”

Him - “Paul Frost? I might do.”

Me - “Um, Paul Frost the Managing Editor? He was in charge of content. I thought you’d know him.”

Him - “…”

Me - “He was my boss at Global Topical Superwebs.”

Him - “Oh! Yeah, yeah. Frosty.”

Now.

No one, ever, called Paul Frost “Frosty”. Paul was a big guy from the States who was once the Hundred And First Infantry. D-Day Pathfinders. Screaming fucking Eagles. He’d been injured. He was strictly Paul. The only thing frosty about him would have been that look in the eyes; eyes that had seen too much.

On top of that, he didn’t like abbreviations. He didn’t even like people shortening the name of the town he came from, even though it had a long name.

Frosty my arse.

So don’t bullshit me, and let this be a lesson to senior managers of any organisation, because one of the reasons I feel safe telling this story is because the guy in the conversation has now disappeared without a trace.

That’s odd in this industry, where people keep turning up a handful of companies, but not so odd for bullshitters. It’s even strang that he doesn’t even pop up on google. and these are all web-related companies. If he was around he’d be on there, but he’s not so I feel OK telling this story.

But I’m now a little scared of Frosty.

Death of a Loyalist Soldier

There’s not a level of this on which this doesn’t appeal to me, and I wanted to share Mike Stimpson’s recreation of classic moments in photojournalism using Lego with some great pictures in their own right. The depth of focus and lighting is brilliant and these photos appear on this site with his permission.

Please check out his brilliant Classics In Lego collection and/or buy his work here.

Here’s a song from the Mills Brothers back in the early 1930’s.

It’s a capella, save for a guitar that you only hear at the beginning and it’s a dark thrill and joy.

I’ll be standing on the corner high
when they bring your body by.
Oh you dog,
you rascal you.

Listen - You Rascal You

Not reading this, or at least I hope not - and if you do it had nothing to do with me. “Man, I was just sitting on a train typing a blog post. I didn’t even know the person, I mean not really.”

But yes, you are going to die, and I’ve always wondered what happens to your online footprint when that happens. Facebook has been pretty good in the past about taking down the profile pages of deceased members. I’m not sure what happens at Twitter. “What are you doing?” rings a little hollow when dead men post no tweets.

People post for different reasons, and I have to admit one of mine is to leave something behind. I have a big relationship with history and an attachment to my place in the future of it, and it’s not out of vanity that I want to leave a testimony, because I’d like lots of people to.

OK, maybe there’s a bit of vanity rooted there underneath my belief that talent defies the laws of perspective and looms larger as it recedes.

So it was with great interest that I learned of the Dead Man’s Switch. This was set up by a likeminded individual and it monitors his online activity, be it email, twitter, blog or facebook. If nothing has gone on for an unusually long period of time, it disables a switch which allows a trusted individual to access a page with all his password to his spaces online and either delete them or update them as per his instructions.

It’s a neat idea. We take care with all our other affairs - someone looks after our bank stuff, work things, dependents and such, so why not your online self (I hesitate using the word brand, but why not: “brand”). It’s intellectual property after all. If it were songs, someone would still own them, so why not stuff you’ve posted.

While we’re talking of morbid things, there’s a site called Dead. At Your Age. In you you will find a list of people you have outlived, and more significantly, who have achieved more than you. I love the full stop in the middle, by the way. It’s even in the URL.

Have a great weekend.

No, but seriously, the advantage is that you are still alive. No one gone, whether departed artists or former performer, will ever produce anything better. We’re still setting the bar.

Now have a great weekend.

Day Twelve - and Sarah’s got a massive napper like a munkey. Who goooos? Youz deeesiyd.

No?

That’s right reader. Because tonight we see the launch of Big Brother in the UK, and Channel 4 promises that the contestant for series (and about this I shit thee not) TEN will be the show’s “the most diverse and cosmopolitan”.

Most diverse? Most diverse? Will they actually have aliens on the show? Actual real life fucking aliens?

This is TV Land, folks, specifically British lowbrow TV Land, a place where diverse means “challengingly wierd”.

It’s not diverse like, I dunno, um - a white dustman and a Muslim stockbroker. No, fuck that shit, it’s more like “and you wanted to laugh, so i asked you to laugh but fear is in your soul” diverse.

Anyway - if you’re watching in China, hello. Bit of social commentary for you earlier. Sorry we didn’t do the podcast this week. Mr Angry has been unwell. I have been unwell, and I am better, but now I am angry.  It’s all very confusing.