Funny that on the same day the new Robert Wyatt album turns up, the post brings three reissues by one of the British bands who learned most from him, Gorky's Zygotic Mynci.
One last contribution to the Smashing Pumpkins war, which I promise I won't write about indefinitely. In response to some comments about my review here. "Funny lot the Pumpkins fans, aren;t they?" writes Chads. "Could never understand why people take it so personally when you don't like a band they do."
A brief dispatch, since I'm fending off hordes of enraged Smashing Pumpkins fans, some of them Argentinian. My crimes are many, but involve bad grammar, liking Zwan and, OK, disrespecting the the untouchable genius of Billy Corgan.
First, a couple of housekeeping things. Thanks for all your comments on the Smashing Pumpkinsreview from last week. In response to TROY, yes, I have definitely heard the album and, yes, I guess I have bad taste according to your criteria. Sorry! If I can just point out again, though, that if I leaked my copy of "Zeitgeist", the iron fist of Warner Brothers would crush this blog instantly. So no go, guys.
A small bit of history, last night, that I was honoured to witness. Wilco played at the Shepherd's Bush Empire in West London, the scene of some pretty fractious shows by Jeff Tweedy - a fact which made him both self-conscious and extremely funny when he found the courage to open his mouth.
Billy Corgan is not an easy man to like, but from time to time in his career he's made some pretty good records. I should make it clear from the start that I'm hardly a Smashing Pumpkins obsessive: I liked the psych-grunge of "Gish" a lot, and I was distinctly impressed by the translation of ambition into a new kind of stadium rock on "Siamese Dream".
We're partying like it's 1994 here at Uncut this afternoon, because the new Beastie Boys album has arrived. It's called "The Mix-Up", and we're just grooving amiably to track seven, "Off The Grid".
I am, I must confess, a bit unclear about what exactly is meant by the very hip term blog house. I've a hunch that it refers to dance music whose success is driven by online theorists rather than exposure in clubs. But to be honest, I've a bit of a dilettante attitude to the dance scene these days: much as I try to keep up to speed with as much music as I can, I think I'm missing a lot of this stuff.
Forgive the constant references to domestic business at Uncut these past few days, but it's been hard to review much music when we've been in the throes of moving office. We're now firmly established in our luxurious new building just behind the Tate Modern, and have spent the morning trying to understand the new phones and get used to the decor: roughly MODE magazine, redesigned by IKEA, but a damn sight nicer than our old place.