Scott Walker and the freedom to go seriously weird.

Listened to Scott Walker’s 1984 comeback Climate of Hunter again recently. It’s a strange record, but Scott went strange pretty much as soon as he could. After his early pop hits with the Walker Brothers, he took the chance to make his individual vision obvious by the time of Scott 3 and Scott 4 in the late 1960s. He tried consciously mainstream records in the early ’70s that nobody bought, followed by an abortive Walker Brothers reunion, so Climate of Hunter has that “fuck it” that so often signals something good.

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Today’s links.

The inventor of karaoke tells his story. “To bear the awful singing of ordinary citizens, and enjoy it anyway.” “99 Red Balloons” played on

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Links, links, tra la la.

The Napster of the 1930s: bootleg lyric sheets. Dads at a One Direction concert. David Bowie, Brian Eno and Tony Visconti record “Warszawa.”

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Hell’s basement.

Chalga is possibly the worst pop genre ever, and that’s a subject I have considerable expertise in. Bulgaria could take over the world. “What’s

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Music critic oppressed by The Man.

Bulgarian Alexander Alexandrov has been most unfairly sentenced to 16 years’ prison merely for killing his neighbour, who played “Angels” by Robbie Williams two

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Burt Fucking Whoopee

After a few glasses of water to clear the slightly hung over feeling, I realised something that had been bothering me from last night. This is stupid, but I feel I have to respond to certain assertions made in the TISM song “BFW”. It has primarily to do with the idea of the artist vs producer divide which has emerged in the last twenty years. (Hey, the URL says Rock Nerd – you can’t have the rock without the nerd.)

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