Such was the case with last week's edition of What Tom Got Wrong, a new weekly Friday feature on Radio 2 Morning (6 a.m.-10 a.m.) Last week, what Tom got wrong was not putting the wrong emphasis on a word like kilometer (KiloMETRE? kilOMetre? Can never remember), something that really gets up some people's noses. No, it was about a racier mistake. Here's what Anna Ringstrom, a listener/Blog reader had to say:

"Firstly, I'd like to comment on last Friday's 'What Tom Got Wrong,' especially the piece regarding Tom mistakenly using the word 'testicle' instead of 'tentacle,' while talking about the octopus. One of the funniest segments of radio banter I have heard in a long, long while. It goes in the category of 'radio so funny you have to pull the car over to clear the tears from your eyes lest you cause a traffic accident."

Today, Part Two of this edition of What Tom Got Wrong, when Quirks & Quarks' Bob MacDonald drops by to answer the octopus question. (As in, um, do they have em, or not?)

Also don't forget to tune in today for the conclusion of What Do You Think Gordon Lightfoot Should Write About?

Broadcast Highlights

Radio 2 Morning (6 a.m.-10 a.m.) [See Top Of Post]

Tempo (10 a.m. - 3 p.m.) TBA

Radio 2 Drive (3 p.m.-6 p.m.) A mix of current singer-songwriters, roots and urban music.

Tonic (6 p.m.) Some blue-eyed soul from Robin Thicke, new jazz vocals from Cassandra Wilson and Molly Johnson, a bit of British funk from the Dave Lennox Band and tracks from vibraphonist Don Thompson, percussionist Steven Kroon, and singer Melody Diachun.

Canada Live (8 p.m.) Concert 1: blues/roots musician Gordie Tentrees of Whitehorse. Concert 2: Slide to Freedom with Doug Cox Salil Bhatt and Ramkumar MIshra. Concert 3: folk music group Namgar, led by Namgar Lhasaranova, who hails from South Siberia.

The Signal (10 p.m.) In Concert from Vancouver’s New Forms Festival an aural intensity called Fond of Tigers.

Nightstream (1:00 a.m./1:30 NT) Bjork; Creaking Tree String Quartet; Raymond Bisha plays Linda Boucher.

- Oh. My. God. If you haven't seen Broken Social Scene yet this year, do it. ASAP. Seriously. It's well worth the ticket price/gas money/plane ride. In fact, it pays dividends.

- Land of Talk opened. Elizabeth Powell is great, especially on the guitar. That girl can shred like the best of them! If you like the female-fronted-Canadian-indie-rock sound, you have to check them out. I'd suggest listening to "Speak to Me Bones" and "Summer Special" from their delightfully sludgy EP, Applause Cheer Boo Hiss, and "Some Are Lakes" from their latest CD.

- Kudos to my friends Sarah, Krystin, and Gantt for picking the best spot in the house (as in right in front of Whiteman, Canning, and Drew!)

- I don't think I could have asked for a more perfect set list. They kicked things off with "Shampoo Suicide," then played everything from "KC Accidental" to "7/4 (Shoreline)" to "Fire Eye'd Boy" to "Looks Just Like the Sun" to "Churches Under The Stairs" to "Hit the Wall." And that was just the "first half" of the show.

- Next came "Cause=Time," "Love Is New," "Stars and Sons," " Anthems For A Seventeen-Year-Old Girl," "Frightening Lives," "Lover's Spit," "Superconnected," "Major Label Debut," "Been At It So Long," "It's All Gonna Break" And it doesn't end there...

- Most jaw-dropping part of the night: Andrew Whiteman (the Apostle of Hustle himself) playing "National Anthem of Nowhere." Daydreamed about this happening for weeks now...and it actually materialized. And I just told someone today that I would give my right leg to see Apostle of Hustle.

- Another thing that materialized: my weird dreams where Brendan Canning pops up as another face in the crowd. Ran into him on my way to the bathroom. He was standing there, with his cute little winter hat with the earflaps, just like my dream. Anna, I think your whole sleep-stalking theory was right.

- That "set list" up there is incomplete. If you can believe it. Found the complete-ish set list:

1. Late Nineties Bedroom Rock for the Missionaries
2. Shampoo Suicide
3. KC Accidental
4. 7/4 (Shoreline)
5. Fire Eye'd Boy
6. Churches Under the Stairs
7. Hit the Wall
8. Farewell to the Pressure Kids
9. Three Thousand Miles (Hawaii cover)
10. Looks Just Like the Sun
11. The Science Experiment / Mrs. Morris
12. Cause=Time
13. Superconnected
14. (I think this was Been At It so Long. Unless we all dreamed it.)
15. Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl
16. Love is New
17. Frightening Lives
18. National Anthem of Nowhere (Apostle of Hustle cover)
19. Stars and Sons
20. It's All Gonna Break
    

Encore:

1. Lover's Spit
2. instrumental jam
3. Major Label Debut (Fast)

- Okay fine. I really wanted to see "Almost Crimes." But that would have been really indulgent/selfish of me to ask for after tonight..

- I love how Broken Social Scene sounds ridiculously tight and like they're about to fall apart all at the same time.

- Liz Powell filled in for all the female vocals on the BSS tracks. She has me sold in terms of being a full-on BSS female vocalist. "Anthems" was beyond words.

- The Do Make Say Think experiement with the sax was pretty cool. It's far too complicated to explain, so if you're curious, go youtube it.

- Drew's jacket during the Hawaii cover...

- If BSS really needs a personal trainer, my friend Will is willing and able to work for "Ibi Dreams of Pavement (A Better Day)" once a week.

- Drew has an "F" tattooed on his wrist. Ironic that we noticed that when he was playing "Lover's Spit" and asked the crowd to shout out names of exs...

- Canning has the most formidable beard I've ever seen in my life.

- He also has cool shoes. See?

- Got countless music recommendations. I met a guy named Josh from Chattanooga while waiting for the show to start. He says I need to listen to M83 (who I have heard of but never really checked out). Another girl (whose name I didn't catch) suggested I see the Avett Brothers live. And at the end of the night, after a massive group hug, Kevin Drew told the crowd chilling in the parking lot to keep on checking out new music. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, I asked him what he's been listening to. He mentioned The National, Chad VanGaalen, and a little band called The Field that I've never heard of but must check out!

- Ran into a very drunk Whiteman after talking to Drew. Asked him if I could get a picture, he said he would love to, put his arm around me and mumbled something about making eyes at me. I turned to see what he was talking about and his face was about half an inch from mine. He was closing in on me too, so I looked at my friend with the camera and this happened:

Probably one of the greatest/most awkward/hilarious moments of my life. Made even more awkward by the fact that he tried it on two of my other friends. Which leads me to pose the question: If the man that just made you all melty inside by playing several of your favorite songs ten minutes before drunkenly mumbles about making eyes at you and leans in, what the heck are you supposed to do?

Some may think this is an easy answer, but when you're in the situation, it's a tough call.

Bizarre doesn't even begin to describe this album. A blend of progressive punk and almost pastoral music with a mean violin, vocal stylings that baffle even the Peter Hammill initiated, quirky, though generally brilliant, lyrics... the list goes on, and the bizarre melding of standard musical elements and a freakishly experimental mindset works overtime. Really, there is no way to describe this album effectively, it'll probably take a while to catch on as a whole, and any preconceptions you have about Van Der Graaf Generator probably do not apply to this album. Consequently, it's a bizarrely essential album: I really enjoy it, I appreciate there are a lot of people (particularly the pretty vocals crowd) who probably won't get it (not a bad thing, just different tastes), and I think it was really pushing the barriers in a way that the other classic prog bands had rather given up on by 1977. Graham Smith and Nick Potter give the album a great deal of attack, Hammill's experiments with all sorts of vocal ideas have jumped off into the deep end in a way that you'll either love or hate, Guy Evans is solid as ever, and the pianos and guitars are used with a lot more confidence and detail than most previous Van Der Graaf Generator efforts. I think it's a masterpiece, sure some others take the opposite opinion. Lizard Play exhibits the rather Van Der Graaf Generatorish (well, in this case, Van Der Graafish) of having some sort of anti-catch value. On the first listen, it made virtually no impact on me, either lyrically or musically, but now, I can call it nothing less than amazing. The first Meurglys III notes lead us into a little, slightly jazzy intro a bit reminiscent of When She Comes, before Hammill's light-hearted, very cleverly harmonised vocals come in, using a full range of high wispy overdubs to counterbalance low, gritty multiple vocals. Evans is fantastic, of course, providing all sorts of rolls in addition to some absolutely beyond-belief unusual hollow and tingly percussion inclusions. Hammill's lyrics are metaphorical, assertive and extremely potent once you actually see the whole picture, and allow for a couple of clever spins which you somehow never quite expect even when you know they're coming up. Potter's thorough, thick basslines provide the real backbone for the piece, as well as a sort of bestial feel to the piece. The Graham Smith violin is characteristically unusual, and includes a couple of rather neat subtleties that provide a little more weight to the acoustic. A song full of weirdness, shamanic rhythms, a general refusal to accept the standard terms of what rock is, and a touch of whimsicality that works really well for Van Der Graaf.

The Habit Of The Broken heart is another somewhat eclectic song, moving from a fairly basic acoustic riff to a subtle bitter bit of reflection to a full on burst of rock to a small vocal coda. The lyrics are a touch less sharp than I'd expect from Hammill, though they still contain a couple of great lines, and a basic message, which is more than a lot of bands manage to do. The lyrical vulnerability of the song relative to the rest of the album is more than outweighed by the superb musical content and the rather odd mood in Hammill's vocal. Guy Evans and Nic Potter provide a weird bass-driven riff for a fair amount of the piece. The dashes of organ fit in quite nicely, as does the lush background viola. A lot of the punk ethos thumping in again, along with a few elements of dissonance and the rather curtailed melodies than characterise much of World Record. The conclusion is nicely done. Not an absolutely perfect piece, but a lot of redeeming features, and a particularly top notch performance from Evans.

Siren Song features the album's finest lyrics, and some of the finest lyrics in rock, and the closest thing to a conventionally pretty vocal on there. The piano is absolutely lovely, and supplemented by a tragic violin, Guy Evans' very emotional and delicate percussion and the unusual Potter distorted bass sound. The mood changes of the song are distinctive, involving and feature a rather more upbeat, folk-inspired violin part, as well as an example of just how mobile Van Der Graaf Generator can make a song. Nic Potter never did a weirder bass part than that in the middle of this song, and it pays off fantastically. Anyway, the best way to describe this one is with a bit of a lyrics quote. It has reduced me to tears on occasion, and not many pieces can do that.

Laughter in the backbone laughter impossibly wise that same laughter that comes every time I flash on that look in your eyes which whispers of a black zone which'll mock all my credos as lies, where all logic is done and time will smash every theory I devise

The six minute Last Frame could well be the highlight of the album for a lot of the more prog-by-the-books listeners. A hollow atmospheric introductory solo on viola (I think) from Graham Smith leads us into the song proper, coupled with a couple of very dark, full jabs on bass and a tinkle of percussion, takes us onto the tragic retrospective vocals, coupled with a savagely bleak and determined set of lyrics. Hammill provides an acoustic (on occasion surprisingly unusual in sound) pretty much throughout the main part of the song, which is quite a nice change, and it fits in neatly both at the higher-tempo sections and the more introspective low-key parts. A sort of freakish guitar or violin solo backed up by a dab of Meurglys III riff takes up prime position in the instrumental mid-part. The song's conclusion is particularly awesome, with a distinctly rocking bass riff mixing itself in with dabs of percussion, classy lyrical bite and a distorted guitar. As always, Evans is a solid drummer, controlling his sound, volume and feel quite precisely and adding a slightly human feel through the drumming. Fantastic stuff.

The Wave is probably the most daringly introspective of the songs on this album, with quirky, and yet quite moving lyrics about the point of analysis and the effect of that on nature or feeling. The lush, but quite delicate, interplay between Hammill's piano and mellotron (it's probably actually a viola, listening to it a bit more closely) and the strings is extremely well-written, and Hammill's vocals are simply amazing in a way that only they can be. The tension is available, and a mixture of grandeur, uncertainty, high and low and whispered vocals, and selective self-harmonies adding a sort of ebbing feel to the piece. The rhythm section is again excellent, with Guy Evans' fitting in his own sort of style quite softly, accomplishing a number of subtle cadences that other drummers often seem nervous to add into soft songs, accomplishing the same sort of rolling line with no intrusion at all. It did take a while to catch onto me, as one would sort of expect a soft song like this to simply head for plain lyrics, but in the end the combination seems simply more and more right. Unusual soft songs are one of my favourite features of the classic 70s prog rock bands, and this fits that description perfectly. Masterful.

If one track can be described as driven, it's probably Cat's Eye/Yellow Fever, this piece rivets itself into the mind, frantically and schizophrenically leaping off its own ideas. Hammill's lyrics and vocals have a wonderfully reeled-off-on-the-spot tint, albeit not a lot of conventional beauty to counterbalance that. The jarring aggression of the vocals is in the vein of Nadir's Big Chance rather than Arrow or La Rossa, relying on an innate menace, speed and rhythm over volume or arrangement, and yet they are actually surprisingly fitting for the song, ramming in uncertainty, panic, menace and rage without pausing for breath... a burst of vocal dubs only heightens the frantic mood. The exhausted final vocal line is a complete contrast to this schizoid personality... one of the best worst vocal performances ever. Graham Smith's violin and viola provides truly berserk emotionality, reeling off a pulsing, tense riff as well as an array of off-the-wall solos, counterbalanced by the utter catharsis of the concluding solo. Nic Potter has never sounded better, with pulsating, demanding, insistent bass-lines complete with mixed-in sort of bass groans, as well as a bass-sound or two I haven't heard used in that way before. Even under that incredible violin solo at the end, he fits in a tasteful, obvious bass sound. The guitar is equally superb, providing a sort of picked-electric sound that lends a lot of character to the piece, as well as some blitz-on-the-ear wails. One of the big standouts of this piece, though, is Guy Evans. His combination of sort of trapping drum sounds, solid, aggressive beats, tasteful leaves, hard, flat rock beats and manically fast, yet comprehensible, fills, which sort of overspill all the parameters of the song, providing a sensation of real vertigo and being off the edge.

Anyway, I've gone into a bit more detail than I usually do on shortish songs for this one, but it was entirely worth it. An incredible song, one that really both pushes the parameters of rock and yet builds on existing traditions. As Peter Hammill would say, the 'exciting stuff'. It's a sample at the moment, so take a listen to it on the appropriate volume. If you don't like it, the album might not be for you (there's a wide range of material covered, and the lyrics, here, are probably not as strong as the rest of the album), but if you do, really, the album might be your thing. It's the song that brought me to going beyond the obligatory four VDGG albums.

The Sphinx In The Face is another oddity, complete with a particularly anarchically arranged set of lyrics, a range of rather clever musical quotes from previous pieces incorporated into the main piece. Opening with a cheerful guitar riff, backed up by the appropriate groove from the bass. A couple of rather reggae-ish moments are juxtaposed with a general pushing-rock-feel, amazing mellotron/viola, as well as possibly the most remarkably moving harmony in rock. The musicianship, as always, is incredible, and though the 'concept' of it all... the unifying theme of disunity, of a search... is a bit hard to grasp at first, once it kicks in, it sinks below the surface, and a range of exclamations that first seem trivial become extremely moving. Also brilliant, though I can imagine that the harmony ending won't hit anyone until you've really wrapped yourself in the album.

Chemical World is another piece of particularly good writing disguised by a bit of general chaos, noise, and lyrics which alternate between whimsical and acidic. Aside from a surprisingly Spanish guitar melody from Hammill, the song's softer moments are highlighted by Graham Smith's fascinating sax/flute-'imitation's on violin. The noisy, distorted-out-of-this-world mid-section is probably the high point of the piece, with an explosive Evans and a number of tense melodies and more 'psychedelic' ideas, which perhaps resemble that rather haunting section of Nine Feet Underground a little. Nic Potter's bass is very effective, again, handling a couple of lead guitarish licks on one occasion. Amazing stuff, and extremely progressive.

The Sphinx Returns concludes the album proper, with a rocked up version of the outro to The Sphinx In The Face, somewhat sealing up all the themes of the album in one range of bizarre musicianship and a fade to indicate that they continue.

Onto the bonus material. The Door is another great piece, with a killer riff. Rocking everywhere, a high-range thumping bass and a couple of hilarious keyboard effects. The demo version of The Wave is actually very moving and effective even without the lyrics, and it places a little more emphasis back on the individual music parts. Potter is probably a bit more effective (think it's that he's a lot more conspicuous with a quieter piano) on this one. Anyway, it illustrates that Van Der Graaf really could do instrumental extremely effectively... almost as incredible unpolished as it is finished. Ship Of Fools truly kicks, with a hammering riff, neat lyrics, and a sort of electric fire that reminds me a bit of a couple of the things 80s Crimson and Tull would go on to do. The vocals are truly off the wall, or off the charts, depending on how you see it, and Hammill gives a great guitar burst or two. I'd probably call it hard rock, more so than any of the Deep Purple and Uriah Heep stuff I've heard.

So, all in all, a collection including pretty much exclusively absolutely fantastic songs (The Habit Of The Broken Heart is a tiny bit weaker, but not much so), which I would consider among Van Der Graaf (Generator)'s list of finest achievements, and that really does mean a lot, coming from me. The album is characterised by subtlety disguised as blatancy, which is a pretty standard VDGG feature, so if you don't get H to He or Godbluff or something like that, you probably won't get this. The lyrics are typically . Nonetheless, vital for fans of Van Der Graaf Generator, aggressive progressive music, later, but still very progressive albums, or quirky, obtuse concepts. A masterpiece of progressive rock, and (and I say this even with Starless And Bible Black, and Brain Salad Surgery close in mind) Guy Evans' performance on this is perhaps my favourite percussion on one album ever.

Rating: Five Stars... seems a bit standard fare for VDGG and my ratings, but that's alright... Favourite Track: Very, very difficult choice. Cat's Eye/Yellow Fever or The Siren Song if I had to pick.

(oh, a couple of considerations)... I'm sure some of the times I reference saxalike/flutealike violins it is actually Jaxon, but I think at others they are, in fact, actually violin sounds that correspond to how I'd expect some of the saxes on World Record to sound. I'm not great on violas, so my exact terminology for string instruments may be horrifically wrong. Finally, the cover art, it's amazing, don't you think?

by TGM: Orb


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Anyway, during my procrastination process, I managed to listen to the song Beverly Hills by Weezer, a song I haven't heard since I was 16. I always liked this song (partially because I love Weezer in general, partially because the beat is decent), but I don't think I realized the irony of the song until now.

I know, I know, it's so obvious. But to a 16 year old who is living in Mormon-ville, Utah surrounded by a lot of people who aren't, shall we say, musically inclined (or, rather, inclined towards anything at all...), I wasn't "on the ball." But this song is nothing short of hilarious!

I was talking to my friend the other day about the "hipsters" that go to my school. They literally are the epitomy of this song. Well, in a reverse way, I suppose. They grew up rich, had everything handed to them on a silver plate, and now want to pretend that they've worked really hard to get to where they are. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm sure they're working hard now, but they never had to before. They buy old, torn, beat up things. They claim this gives their wardrobe character. Character? Character is being able to tell me exactly where each tear came from, what caused the discolouration, and what the obscure writing scribbled on the back of the shirt means. Character is giving me all the stories behind how the shirt got that way. Their story? I thought it was "hip." Hip? HIP?!

This is why I get annoyed with the "hipsters." Real hipsters don't think they're hip. It's a way of life. It's the person next to you on the subway going down to Houston or Alphabet city. It's someone who lives in a loft with 3 other people and they all just sleep on mattresses on the floor. It's someone who wears jeans with holes and shirts with random bleach stains out of necessity, not as a fashion statement.

Beverly Hills talks about someone who wishes he were famous and hung out with celebrities, but the new "fad" is to be poor. What gives? Why can't everyone just BE? I don't think I'll ever understand people who want to be so different than who they are naturally. If someone wrote a version of Beverly Hills but changed the words to make it from the point of view of a wanna-be hipster, they would become my hero of the week, maybe even the month. Until that song is made, I will be subjected to rich brats walking around thinking they own the streets while wearing $100 shirts that look like they were bought off the back of a homeless bum.

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