I'm sorry. I forgot. It's an honest mistake.

Before visiting my old friend Grant, I took in the excellent televisual experience that was The Hits' (channel 18 on Freeview) attempt to give a comprehensive list of the 20 best Scottish acts ever. I may have missed one or two but I'm fairly certain that Rod Stewart wasn't on the list, presumably on the grounds that thinking you're Scottish and being Scottish are actually two completely different things. The list had predictability all over it. I give you Annie Lennox, Travis, Eddie Reader, the band Antoine De Caunes used to describe as Le Wet, Wet and Le Wet again, the Proclaimers, Simple Minds and KT Tungsten (yes, I know). There were the odd smatterings of the ok/naff border with the likes of Altered Images and Aztec Camera. And a hearty dose of twee nonsense: Sheena Easton, please stand up. Oh, you are. Sorry.
Grant, for lo, he is Glaswegian wanted to know whether Belle and Sebastian got a mention (not to my knowledge). I was surprised not to hear from Big Country, Orange Juice (or Edwyn Collins on his own for that matter) or Isobel Campbell. But I knew someone how I was forgetting someone. It's taken me over a week to remember the band I wanted to remember and I'm so annoyed. So, out of the way, The Hits, because not only are Teenage Fanclub the best Scottish band ever, but Sparky's Dream is, for at least the next thirty minutes, the best song ever.

Christmas is, apparently not like London buses.

"I'm having too many ideas" I thought on the way back from Sainsburys. I should have stopped to strip each one back but I was worried about the fish in my bag. Well, not that worried or else I wouldn't have bought the thing in the first place. I am assured that humane methods were used in the farming and killing of this fish but as the most popular human methods of death are starvation, malaria and the bullet, I really ought to rethink the whole buying strategy.
So, if I've forgotten any of the greatest songs of as and when they occurred to me over the last six months then you (and by you I really mean me, after all which other sad git is reading this tosh) will have to forgive me. But how would you know? Why would you care?
Anyway here we go. Each one of these songs were, as far as I am concerned the greatest song ever for around fifteen minutes each over the last six months (Did that make sense? Too late).
Erasure - A Little Respect. Although really, did they have to make the most literal video ever.
Teenage Fanclub - Cells. I love the Fanclub but I avoided buying the last album for months but I'm pleased I waited because I wasn't ready for it then. I needed to suffer a bit first. Cells highlights the dangers of overlistening. What is a beautiful, simple, eloquent song has started to sound perilously close to an old time folk songs. If they played stump, kettle and par-boiled potato instead of guitar, bass and drums it would only be half a "hey-nonny-nay" away from a Morris Dancer's delight.
Edwyn Collins - The Campaign For Real Rock. A great song but as it's six minutes long that means it only gets two and a half plays before it ceases to be the best ever and that's just not value for money.
Arctic Monkeys - A Certain Romance. Obvious really. Man that boy can bang the drums.
Oasis - Go Let It Out. Only for the "Click on the bass" moment.
Decoration - Candidate. "Don't let me down/I can do it for myself thank you/ Let me do it for myself thank you" "In the eighties they had electric dreams/I just dreamt of you" "Don't build you hopes up/I will only knock them down she said/I guess it's something to do" Evidence? Case closed.
Billy Bragg - The Saturday Boy. Ahh Billy, you were the king of sad geeky broken hearted teenage boys.
Beta Band - Dry The Rain. Got bored of this one ages ago. Great song though. That's the danger of the ipod shuffle.
U2 - Stuck in a song title you can't get out of (or something like that). I finally started listening to the boys again. They're not boys anymore. Shame really, they were more fun when they were pretentious rockers. Now they're uber-pretentious rockers I just wish Brian Eno would get them in a headlock and rub their heads (or beanies) until they go bald. Balder.
Talking Heads - Naive Melody (This Must Be The Place) What a fucking brilliant song and a superb title to rank alongside the likes of Country Feedback (it's a country song with feedback of course).
Blur - He Thought of Cars/Entertain Me/Yuko and Hiro. The Great Escape is turning in their lost album, loved on release, discarded for being cold fairly soon after. Have a listen (selectively), it's more fun than peeing in a wet suit. Just
But for now it's back to Teenage Fanclub and from ManMade, the current best song ever. Born Under A Good Sign. The one note guitar riff is a killer and in terms of structure the song has got to be everything their fans have wanted since Bandwagonesque.
Phew, thank god that's over...

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.

Camp Freddy, everybody in the world is bent

Well, really. Anyway, welcome to today's instalment of musical waffle, piffle and inaccuracy which aims to prove that the best music in the world ever is somehow slightly bent in the Italian Job sense.
I love Teenage Fanclub. No really, I do. But they have to be one of the most maligned bands around. Too many people remember the hair and noise and heavy production of the early days and not enough know about the light, deft poppy touch of everything after the first two and a half albums. If I were to start another blog if would be called Things That Should Be Massive But Are Generally Ignored By The Public. First up would be Teenage Fanclub.
That said, for the next fifteen minutes, the best song ever is Mount Everest which unusually for them has a lead guitar line that wanders behind the harmonies and a tempo that drives the song rather than supports its beauty. Ooooh look at me, trying to get all post with my writing. Bugger that, it's a beauty.
More odd British pop to follow.