Following on from post on my new “art” focus, I wanted to share a piece of art that I absolutely adore.
This isn’t my art, and as you may have surmised from the previous post, I don’t think of myself as an “art person”. I have previously told myself I am one of those people who don’t “get art”, and when I think about what that means I realise I mean “modern art”, but also “art you scroll past on a screen”.
Because our brains process art differently when it’s real and tangible in front of us, and I think we also see it differently when we’re bored or hungry or just want to hussle our kids through the gallery to the cafe1.
So it shocked me one day when I was out with the family in Gumeracha at a little cafe and art studio called The Coach House, and found myself falling for a little peice of art on display there. It was acrylic on board of part of a tree branch covered with moss, with autumn leaves in the background. The leaves were large and out of focus - colour and shape mostly - while the branch was crisp and detailed and textured. The paint itself was thick and poked off the canvas like a living thing, like actual moss and bark.
I couldn’t explain then, and still cannot today, why it just worked for me. It gave me the sense of depth of a photograph because the background was abstract and blurry while the foreground was not just sharp but popping off the canvas and it just tickled my brain in a way art never has before.
Even though I wanted to buy it then and there, it was not cheap. If I saw it today I would have never been able to afford it. But after we left, it hung around in my head for weeks. I found myself wondering if I could buy art? Would I even enjoy it? Was I even remembering it right?
Eventually I couldn’t ignore the itch any longer and drove back to the studio to purchase the peice. I’m glad to this day that I did. It hangs on my wall where I work where it feels like a little window to a tree just outside.
It was a work called Lichening by an artist named Kerrie Drogemuller. I’ve included a photo here because I want to try and share it with you, but keep in mind that the texture is just as important and pictures genuinely don’t do it justice.
Lichening by Kerrie Drogemuller
If I zoom in you can see how much the paint is layered to give it so much life at the macro level.
Enhance
Lichening by Kerrie Drogemuller
But even if I show you another angle, you still can’t appreciate the whole work from behind a screen.
TEXTURE
Lichening by Kerrie Drogemuller
This is my chance to say thank you to Kerrie. I believe she’s still making art, but the Coach House is closed now. I hope she keeps providing joy through her art.
And if you already “get” art, then I guess this post might seem quaint or naive to you. I don’t claim I know what I’m talking about, and I won’t say “I just know what I like”, but I will say that maybe there’s more to it than aesthetics, or technique. Maybe it takes an audience to feel it, even if they don’t understand it, and if you don’t - maybe you just haven’t really felt it yet.
I’ve scoured Soundcloud to find the best Christmas music I could find. It’s chock full of Christmas favourites that are guaranteed to:
Bring Christmas cheer
Not suck
This year I thought I’d write up my song choices and explain some of them. In particular, number 21 is special. If you’re interested, you can skip to the writeup after you hit play.
{{< soundcloud 1538940298 >}}
My 2022 playlist writeup
First up is a wonderful choral/orchestral version of O Come All Ye Faithful. I’ve included a Dan Forrest arrangement of this song in 2016. It reminds me a little of Murray Gold’s arrangement of the Doctor Who theme for Tennant, has this fast frantic chase in it. It’s good.
I’ve never included the Hallelujah Chorus in a Christmas playlist for some reason. It’s never been “Christmassy” - but it is right? As much as any of these carols deserve to be here? This Kazoo version by the CSUF Kazoo Ensemble made Mil laugh.
I like to include new songs or songs that aren’t the usual staples every year. This year I have This Is Not A Christmas Song by NEFFEX. It’s punky. I like it.
Deck the Halls by Cimorelli is another choral carol, in a neat arrangement.
This 8-bit version of Little Drummer Boy by Francisco Ramírez kicks off with the original Donkey Kong beat from my childhood, and if I’m not including an 8-bit track for myself regujarly, why am I even doing this?
I’ve included I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas in some version almost ever year since I first heard it. Would you believe I never heard this song until I made the 2013 playlist? It has the same energy as I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Clause, but I like it better, and this version by laughingstock embraces the energy.
There are so many good versions of Carol Of The Bells and I loved it as a kid when I heard it in Home Alone, so there’s a version almost every year. This version by Candice Boyd is brilliant.
We joke every year that Away In A Manger was the song my eldest would tear up at - which isn’t funny in itself - but that she would actively avoid listening to this song because it did. So I’ve made it my mission to find the sweetest saddest version I can every year, and this version by Phil Wickham fits the bill. Love you A!
Winter Wonderland is almost always filler. In Australia it doesn’t snow and my family hates carols that imply it’s not Christmas without a blizzard. However this Wes Reeve verson ISN’T the version you know and it’s quite sweet and is completely different song!
This is a funky acapella version of Angels We Have Heard On High by Just 6. And as I’m listening to it again writing this up, I feel like this is the hidden gem of this playlist hidden back here at number 10. It’s worth the anticipation though.
I’ve had some truly great versions of Star of Wonder on past playlists and this instrumental one by Craig Hamilton based on Sufjan Steven’s version which I had on my 2013 playlist.
Silent Night is a staple, and this acapella arrangement by AUGUST 08 is really good.
This loungy version of Joy To The World by Father Fortuna Music is groovy.
I try to include a little funk or electroswing or both in every playlist. Wolfgang Lohr puts out something that fits the bill every year, so they’re on these lists a lot. This is a very funky version of Frosty the Snowman with Odd Chap (another of my favourite artists) and Maskarade.
O Holy Night is my favourite carol hands down. I think it’s almost singlehandedly responsible for reminding me years ago that despite losing my faith I didn’t have to give up on the music and joy of Christmas. Getting to sing along to this once a year makes me happy, and this version by Flower Face is lovely.
This is another one of those songs that we’ve imported and makes no sense in Aus. But it’s a fun song, and it’s literally called The Christmas Song so it shows up in searches a lot. This bluesy, blousy version by SHEE is catchy.
Another one that made Mil laugh. This Reliant K version of Good King Wenceslas is dumb and funny.
I’m a sucker for a duet, and I’ve included a couple over the years. Jason and Courtney Tompkins version of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas is sweet and well sung.
Not immune to pop-culture’s influence, and the fact my kids love the Guardians of the Galaxy, I’ve included I Don’t Know What Christmas Is (But Christmastime Is Here) by the Old 97’s from this year’s GotG Christmas Special.
I’ve included Dance of the Sugar Gum Fairy every year, and this makes less sence as a Christmas song than the Hallelujah Chorus, but so many artists do it, it must be Christmassy somehow. But I like it, and this version by B&B PROJECT is unique and I love it.
OK, this track is kinda special, in that it was on the first playlist I made in 2012, and it’s the ten year anniversary of my Christmas playlists. It’s a swwet version of We Wish You A Merry Christmas by a really young girl named Olivia. This year I was looking through my past favourites looking to see if anyone had done other songs I could use and found number 22 linked from this account.
This is Olivia again years later at 12 singing Ave Maria and it’s phenominal. Such a mindblowing change. What a great way to wrap out ten years of Christmas playlists!
This is also the first year I’m not including Jingle Bells! 10 years seems like as good a time as any to skip it, but I’ve included it in every other playlist. Go take a look at them too!
Have you ever heard or smelled or tasted something that just dragged you instantly into the past? It’s like that scene with Anton Ego, the food critic in the climax of Ratatouille - everything drops away and you’re experiencing something your concious mind had forgotten, but is still living in your brain buried under a mountain of time.
I was chatting to my kids over dinner when something prompted the memory of an old song from my childhood. Like a lot of the songs I tell my kids about, they didn’t believe it could have been real, so as usual I had to get it playing for them. But the version blasting from Spotify wasn’t the version of the song I’d heard as a child and it got me wondering what had I been listening to all those years ago.
See, like a lot of people in the eighties we had car with a tape deck (and no air conditioner, which I still to this day cannot explain to my children how anyone lived without). And on this tape deck we wore out a lot of tapes driving our parents mad with the same songs over and over. We were a Christian family, the family of a pastor no less, so most of the tapes were Psalty the Singing Songbook (and that anthropomorphic hymnal could be a post in and of itself, but lets not get side-tracked). I’m sure mum and dad had their tapes too, and I recall a lot of Keith Green and maybe some Dion? Was that the ex-pop star turned Christian? This is already taking too long so I’m not looking him up.
But man cannot live on bread alone, and not every tape was dedicated to the glory of God. We had one tape that had popular music. There may have been more, but this is the singular one that has made an impression on my childhood brain. And not because it was unholy. Lets not forget, this was the mid-eighties, and my parents had stopped listening to secular music in the decade before I was born, so this “pop” music was taken from an era before my parents even met. Anything with lyrics was right out, so the tape we had, cribbed from an old record we may have not even owned (yes, I’m putting my parents at risk of being prosecuted for piracy some 35 years after the fact) was instrumental only.
But not just any instrument, no. This was not an album of romantic violin. This was no inspirational piano. Ask yourself, what instrument could elevate the hits of the 70’s more than any other? What could capture the spirit of daring, of whimsy - of new possibilities - like no other instrument before or since?
That slice of synth heaven from God himself, squeaking to your third ear like the voice of an electronic angel. Telling you music will never be the same and you will never be shackled to wood and string and reed again.
Frankly I’ve built it up too much now. I don’t actually normally enjoy the Moog too much. As a child of the eighties I have a soft spot for chiptunes produced on the Commodore SID chip, so I recognise it can take some rosy glasses of nostalgia to see the appeal of some sounds. In reality, this Moog album was my first, and in the intervening years I’ve never felt the pressing need to seek out more.
But that song I recalled, but didn’t recognise? I thought it might have been an electronic version from an album of synthesizer covers. The memory of the song Popcorn, another childhood favourite, rose unbidden to my mind and I knew it had to have been the same tape.
So I did some digging. It took a couple of tries, but I found it. In that moment I experienced that slow but wonderful excavation of buried memories that crystallise and lock the fragments of the past back into those places you’d made for them.
Which is all so much prelude to share this treasure from my childhood. I present Popcorn (and other switched-on smash hits) by Electric Coconut, also re-released a year later as Elektrik Cokernut’s Go Moog! I don’t recall which title we knew it as, but we probably just called it “the Popcorn tape”. Archive.org has the full album, and I swear as I listened to each song, deeply worn mental pathways covered in neglect reconnected and unearthed memories of brown leather seats three kids wide, big clicky radio buttons, and driving with the wind in your face skipping your hand against the current of air.
Moog may be an acquired taste, but the whole album is such a treat of 70’s hits.
Starting with “Popcorn“, this cover may be the one that most closely resembles the original. “Pop Corn” was written for the Moog in 1969 by Gershon Kingsley and the original is the classic synth tune that hit number one on charts all over the world. You may have heard a different version to me, and that might be your definitive version. Hot Butter’s version was also very popular and the Swedish Chef from The Muppets did a cute interpretation. I hope for your sake your childhood version wasn’t the Crazy Frog one.
Before diving into this album I’d never heard the original “Sampson and Delilah“ by Middle of the Road. I don’t know if my parents knew it, or just fit the name of the song to the music as it played, but I recall a fair bit of “nah nah nah, Samson and Delilah, mumble mumble, huh huh huhh” in place of the actual lyrics as it played. Actually, some of the lyrics are literally “nah nah nah”, so that complicates it somewhat. There’s a little violin sting in there and it’s possible that planted a tiny seed of love for that instrument in my head.
Next is the song who’s very existence my children doubted. To be fair, if you told me there was a hit song in ‘72 whose sole lyric was the words “Mouldy Old Dough’’ spoken in a low growl, I’d probably not believe you either, but there you go. It’s an absolute banger, with tin whistle, a honky-tonk sorta marching beat and the privilege of being “the only British number one single to feature a mother and son”. That’s right, this band of groovy young men roped in front-man Rob Woodward’s mum Hilda to play piano for many of their songs, and you can see from video recorded at the time she was having a fun time playing with these nice young men. The Electric Coconut version is fun too, cemented in my head more than any other on the album except perhaps for “Popcorn” itself.
“Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep“ was a song whose known lyrics in that car extended further than the title, but not much further. Admittedly there’s not much more to it, but I think my parents knew the chirpy cheep bits and maybe the bits crying “where’s your mamma gone” but not much else. It’s probably for the best, as the 1970’s Middle of the Road hit topped the Guardian’s list of Top Ten Creepiest Songs.
Another 1972 hit “Wig-Wam Bam“ by The Sweet is next, and listening to the original up against the Moog version, this is one of the few on Popcorn I might enjoy more. The lyrics of the original have a potentially problematic cultural appropriation issue, being based on The Song of Hiawatha, a poem from 1855. The poem took a bunch of Native American cultural concepts and fashioned them into a narrative but with made up characters that end with the natives accepting Christianity. None of that is in the song, but it’s got that same sort of messed up idea that non-white cultures have magic nonsense words that reminds me a lot of that Witch Doctor song (“ooh ee ooh ah ah, ting tang walla etc..”).
We’re half way through, and wrapping up side one is “Morning has Broken“ popularised by Yusuf Islam (Cat Stevens) in 1972. This was originally a Christian hymn, and between this and “Samson & Delilah” probably accounts for the survival of this tape in our religious car for so many years. The Moog version definitely uses the Cat Stevens arrangement, as that piano introduction is so iconic, but the electronic version is almost unbearable to listen to in contrast.
Side two starts off strong with the only original Electric Coconut composition on this album. “Jungle Juice” is a really fun tune that reminds me a lot of Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll Part 2” which came out in… you guessed it, 1972. If there’s some other connective tissue between these two songs, or you think they’re not all that closely related and I’m imagining things, let me know!
“Seaside Shuffle“ is the last song on the album that warrants its own paragraph. Released in ‘71 then again to better success in 1972 by Terry Dactyl and the Dinosaurs, I enjoy both the original and this Moog version. In 1995 when Shaggy released “In the Summertime“ I could not for the life of me figure out why this catchy tune was so familiar, those mental pathways covered over with 10 years of moss. They’re not the same song of course - Shaggy was covering the 1970’s hit “In the Summer Time” by Mungo Jerry. Again, my ability to parse out musical cues may be off-target, but “Seaside Shuffle” and “In the Summer Time” certainly share some musical DNA. I can’t find anything sourced, but this post from 2012 claims Mungo Jerry played with the house band that went onto become Terry Dactyl, but they make no effort to back those claims, so take it with a pinch of salt. Regardless, the similarity explains why Shaggy’s hit triggered that little bell in my brain that elevates my opinion of new music when it reminds me of childhood memories and makes a song irresistible to me.
“Softly Whispering I Love You“ is a slow and quiet track that hasn’t got a lot to recommend itself in an instrumental Moog version. It was written in ‘67 but wasn’t popular until covered in ‘71. None of these versions are my cup of tea. Track ten is “Jeepster“ which uses the squishy electric sound to good effect, but T. Rex’s original is better. The penultimate track is Neil Diamond’s “Song Sung Blue“, and from the shallower mental pathways this song made (though they are still there) this was about the point in Popcorn (and other switched-on smash hits) the kids were begging mum and dad to fast-forward to the other side of the tape - if we hadn’t already asked at “Softly Whispering”. This side of the album really derails fast, and if you’ve made it this far you’re treated to a very forgettable version of Ringo Starr’s “Back Off Boogaloo“. I’m grateful now to have heard the original ‘cause it’s got some charm, but fast-forwarding at any of the previous three tracks and losing this one in the wash is not something anyone in the car ever regretted.
So there you have it, a tape from a record of Moog covers of 70’s hits, learned on road trips in the Queensland heat that buried their way into my brain in ways I could barely put into words before my kids reminded me of a ridiculous song about spoiled food. Digging through the songs I loved gave me some fun connections I wanted to share with you all, and I hope you can enjoy some of them too, through whichever version makes you happiest. I’ve included a link to a playlist of the original versions, and included links to the Wikipedia pages of each song in case you want to learn more about any of them yourselves.
I want to share the album I was listening to while I [figured out how to dockerise Hugo]({{< ref “Dockerised-Hugo-for-Local-Development” >}}). It’s such an upbeat listen that I didn’t notice when it looped through and played again. I was listening on soundcloud through docker-tizonia but I’ll leave you the Spotify link for Thaehan - Mekatsune and the FULL LP on Youtube
{{< youtube WuAgqT-gsc4 >}}
My two fave tracks are Chapô Chapô and Goblins, but you make up your own mind.
NOTE: I added the above as sign off on another post a few weeks ago, but re-listened to some of their music again today and decided they deserved a separate post. I’m totally blown away by their music. And as an additional bonus for re-reading this post if you saw it at the bottom of the last one, here’s a newer trilogy track called Mechanical Heart.
I’ve scoured Soundcloud to find the best Christmas music I could find. It’s chock full of Christmas favourites that are guaranteed to:
Bring Christmas cheer
Not suck
This years playlist includes:
Many originals and covers of well known Christmas songs such as ‘Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)’, ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’, ‘Joy To The World’, ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas’, ‘Up On The Housetop’, ‘Auld Lang Syne’, ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’, and many more reimagined in ways that don’t suck.
I’ve scoured Soundcloud to find the best Christmas music I could find. It’s chock full of Christmas favourites that are guaranteed to:
Bring Christmas cheer
Not suck
This years playlist includes:
Jingle Bells, a version of All I Want for Christmas Is You that doesn’t make me want to murder someone, an original track by Sia, and many more classics reimagined in ways that don’t suck.
I’ve scoured Soundcloud to find the best Christmas music I could find.
It’s chock full of Christmas favourites that are guaranteed to:
Bring Christmas cheer
Not suck
This years playlist includes:
Jingle Bells, Ding Dong Merrily on High, The First Noel, the only version of Jingle Bell Rock that doesn’t make me want to cancel Christmas, Silent Night, and sixteen more classics reimagined in ways that don’t suck.
I’ve scoured Soundcloud to find the best Christmas music I could find. It’s chock full of Christmas favourites (and a few new ones) that are guaranteed to:
Bring Christmas cheer
Not suck
This years playlist includes:
We Wish You A Merry Christmas, While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks, Joy To The World, Santa Clause Is Coming To Town, Mele Kalikimaka, Wonderful Christmastime, Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, We Three Kings, Drummer Boy, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Home Alone Theme, Marshmallow World, White Christmas, Away In A Manger, Always In The Season, I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, The Grinch, Let It Snow, Sleigh Ride, O Come All Ye Faithful, The First Noel, Jingle Bells, as well as four originals.
I’ve scoured Soundcloud to find the best Christmas music I could find. It’s chock full of Christmas favourites (and a few new ones) that are guaranteed to:
Bring Christmas cheer
Not suck
Thank you to all the artists who have shared their Christmas songs on SoundCloud for the rest of us!
I’m not sure how many of my friends are in the market for good podcasts, but one of my favourites has just returned from a lengthy hiatus.
This is a superb treat for your ears. No other podcast I listen to sounds quite so epic and intimate at the same time. The voice acting is sublime and draws you in to the intricately created world of the Edicts.
Now is a great time to listen from the beginning and catch up for the second half of season 3. Immerse yourself in the world of Agent Nick Garrett of the F.I.S investigating reports of strange phenomena that threaten to undermine his understanding of the very nature of the world.
It’s atmospheric and creepy with incredible sound design. I really can’t recommend it enough.
I’ve scoured Soundcloud to find the best Christmas music I could find. It’s chock full of Christmas favourites (and a few new ones) that are guaranteed to:
Bring Christmas cheer
Not suck
Thank you to all the artists who have shared their Christmas songs on SoundCloud for the rest of us!
I’ve scoured Soundcloud to find the best Christmas music I could find. It’s chock full of Christmas favourites (and a few new ones) that are guaranteed to:
Bring Christmas cheer
Not suck
25+ tracks from great musicians with a unique sound to bring to your Christmas celebrations. Including favourites like “Away in a Manger”, “Carol of the Bells”, and even a special rendition of an old favourite from a much beloved Star Wars character!
Thank you to all the artists who have shared their Christmas songs on SoundCloud for the rest of us!
Not so long ago, there was a much wider gap between the various methods for acknowledging online content. At one end, you had the option of reading something and then doing absolutely nothing. On the other, you had things like leaving a comment, emailing the post to a friend, or writing a blog post in response to another you read elsewhere. - Len Kendall - Don’t ‘like’ this post
The habit of “liking” things on the internet would be difficult to break. But it inspires me a little because it gels with an upcoming experiment I have planned for The Geekorium.
To “like” (or +1) something is the lowest form of interaction you can have with someone’s post, and it saves you from having to put actual thought into your response. I think I’d rather have “likes” on my posts than nothing at all, but I’d certainly appreciate some thoughtful comments more.
Len points out that the “like” button is one-size-fits-all. There’s no way to say “I appreciate you posting this, even if I disagree with the content”. There’s no difference between liking your favourite noodle bar and liking news of your friends newborn son. And with the rise of sponsored posts on Facebook, your “like” on the noodle bar page now puts ads for that noodle bar front and centre above more important things like births, deaths, and marriages of the people I actually care about.
I expect this behaviour is here to stay, but I will try and think a bit harder before liking things in future, and I’d appreciate it if you’d do the same too.
I believe that if, at the end, according to our abilities, we have
done something to make others a little happier, and something to make
ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make
others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all
crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true
no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must
try. Roger Ebert
