I just wasn't made for these times

And neither was Mark Hollis. I get the feeling that he would have been happier writing chamber music alongside the likes of Ravel. His music is so deeply layered and bitty, classical music in a pop context. Hey, that sounds like a soundbite. Well wrap me up and make me a speechwriter.
Talk Talk were one of the few bands to get consistently better as they went on. First album. Crap. Second album. The first side was pretty good. Side two? Crap. Third Album? The Colour of Spring. The title is the most accurate description of the record. You could sit and imagine flowers opening while you listen to it. Then Spirit of Eden. Beautiful. And finally, Laughing Stock which, from time to time I just listen to non-stop. It's six stark songs remind me of so many 'nearly' moments, especially from my long lost university days.
It's strange that I should pick it up and pick it out now. At this point when music is testosterone fuelled along with the rest of our culture. When we watch the beautiful game accompanied by bluntly obvious comments, preferably aided by bottled beer and then bellow our opinions to each other either to the person next to us or down a phone line to a radio station. When phrases like "a genuine one in two man" are meant to make us think of goalscoring credentials rather than the usual national pre-occupation. When I want to adore New Order, Keith Allen and John Barnes (of course I do). When I ought to be more socialble than I am being and sharing this great event and my opinions with others (although I am still trying hard not to have to many, opinions tend to make all our lives more bitter)
Instead I find myself watching the Netherlands versus Argentina match with the sound down, listening to Laughing Stock and the riff that leaves me speechless every time, that stands to me as a work of art comparable with anything modern music has created. And it adds to the football, it soothes me although removing the irritation of the worst of ITV commentators (Drury and Pleat!!!!!!) helps no end. Watching World Cup games on my own, listening to Laughing Stock is the modern eqivalent of being Jacob Barnes.
But, and quite possible for the remainder of the World Cup, Talk Talk's Laughing Stock is the best album ever but the best song either is, without doubt, New Grass.

It's been a long time baby

Yeah, sorry about that. I've had other things on my mind. For example, I've been wondering why it is that ABC are (still) slightly lauded for their first album only. Especially since the second is every bit as good but every bit as different. And I am aware that that sentence makes no sense whatsoever. I'm not entirely happy with the last one either. Or that.
Anyway, The Lexicon of Love was the first album I ever bought (jointly with my brother, on cassette, we saved for ages and bought it in secret and hid it from our parents because we were worried they'd tell us off for spending so much money on something other than sweets and fizzy drinks. Probably). And I love the strings that give it such richness (Anne Dudley, the most underrated person in British music) which of course were missing on the stark follow-up, Beauty Stab.
But it is good. And as long as you can get past the pretentious lyrics (so overblown at times as to border on the ridiculously sublime - what the hell does that mean?) there is a hard boiled album that is bursting with ideas. And amongst them is the single that really killed off the impression that ABC were gold lamee, funk bass and violin mad. I give you, That Was Then But This Is Now, for the next fifteen minutes, the best song ever.

Pancakes, yes. Pop, no.

I was going to write some boring, cliched drivel about how god awful Scottish pop music has been and place an apology here stating that I knew it had been done before but I'm going to do it anyway. This would all finish with 'Teenage Fanclub are brilliant' and a recommendation to boot.
Actually I've decided I can't be bothered and that music does not represent a nation in exactly the same way that music cannot betray an emotion. Unless you choose to let it. If you want to think of Scotland as a land that music forgot (I mean Texas, really, why? They weren't any good the first time and the second time they were merely poor but for some reason all of you were buying anything homegrown and recommended by Chris Evans - see also Ocean Colour Scene although at least they aren't Scottish) then feel free.
If, however, like me you choose to belief that your nationality is initially an accident of birth (before sadly becoming an accident of politics or war for some) then you can avoid all helpless, hapless, hopeless national stereotypes. Dundee has little in common with Dunfirmline, Glasgow with Galashiels. Nationality is a human construct designed to lift and separate like a well fitted bra.
So, my favourite band who coincidentally happen to all come from one particular area through a fortuitous accident of birth and economic necessity is Teenage Fanclub. And amongst their rich back catalogue is, what I currently believe to be, the best song ever written, if only for the next fifteen minutes. I give you: I Need Direction by Teenage Fanclub.