This RIP thing is getting depressing, so I'll keep it short. Reading about the death of Ellie Greenwood today, I knew that she'd written a fair number of 60's hits but I never realised just how many. Let's face it, she'd have gone down in history if she'd only ever written River Deep Mountain High, but she penned so many transcendent pop songs it's untrue. Phil Spector's Wall of Sound would never have been built without her, and the history of popular music would've been very different indeed.

Here's something I came across over the weekend, and I post it for no other reason than it made me smile. I'm no Luddite, but it's so good to see a place like this doing brisk business. Long may it do so. For much the same reason, I'm currently listening to the mighty MFSB anthem Love is the Message. A great way to enter the coming week. Click on the title above and turn your speakers up to see what I mean. I should do more of this random stuff pop-kids, it's jolly therapeutic.

Guitar legend Les Paul died earlier today, aged 94. Without him, it's difficult to speculate how any music over the past 60-plus years that ever required an electric guitar might have ended up sounding. Such were the strides he personally made in guitar and recording technology. In tandem with this, he developed a truly innovative playing style and had a successsful recording career - 36 gold records and 11 US number ones. In every sense of the word, a complete Original.

Good day music lovers everywhere. Every morning this week for yours truly has started at 8.00am in the basement of Chéz Sonique, the swimming-chamber. Yes, I've decided that it's officially time to get things moving again with a spot of the ol' exercise. I've not done any of the latter for much too long now, mainly due to my Big Mishap of 2008. To this end I have returned the relevant staff to full-time duties and have, with their assistance, managed to regain some of my former aqua-skills. Not exactly back to my Young Dolphin status of course, but I have no doubt that this will come.
It's time to celebrate what's left of the Summer pop-kids. If I owned a surfboard, I promise you I'd be waxing it vigourously.

Good morning Blog citizens, welcome to the week. Not a bad weekend all in all for yours truly. Saturday I was interviewed by Mr. Andrew Collins for BBC 6Music. Arrived at the studios early so that Panic would not be allowed to enter the proceedings. Found there to be no-one on the reception desk, doors locked, no lights on. Stood outside for 15 minutes or so, until I could alert a grown-up to my predicament. After some indoor waiting around, I was shown to a small room by a helpful chap, who handed me a pair of headphones and informed me that the appropriate folks would be 'Dialling me up as and when'. Helpful Chap then ran off at top-speed to present the news on local TV. My thanks to him.
I sat and stared at a grey wall, listening to the amplified sound of my own increasingly shallow breathing in the head-set for 20 minutes or more. Several calls were made to yet more grown-ups, each growing in fractiousnesss. Panic entered the proceedings. Eventually, I'm happy to report, contact was made and an effortless conversation about the finer points of Popular Culture was broadcast to the nation. Result.
This morning I have swum like a juvenile dolphin and am supercharged with positivity for the coming week. Onward.™