I like how he can still cram in his usual grievances even when he likes something ...
Does this mean country music has finally overcome the sneering of New Zealand’s self-ordained cultural priesthood, who reflexively snigger at the very mention of the genre? As tempting as it might be, I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion. I know too many musical bigots, mostly masquerading as liberal sophisticates, who still associate country music with cheesy songs about horses and dogs. They make the mistake of confusing country music – a genre as wide and varied as pop, jazz or classical – with what is now often referred to as country and western, a sentimental, mutant sub-genre which grew out of the great American cowboy songs of the 1930s and 40s and survives mainly in New Zealand and Australia (and to some extent, oddly enough, in Ireland).
Not that Karl himself ever makes ignorant generalisations about music he doesn't understand. Oh no.
The fact this Karl du Fresne is using a 2003 graphic theme on his…Blogspot… says rather a lot.
I hope we're not going to be horrible to country music just because Karl du Fresne likes it. That would make me sad.
country music – a genre as wide and varied as pop, jazz or classical
He's not wrong.
It’s months since Princess Chelsea let bFM have a copy of her cover of the song to play, and then released it as a 7” vinyl single. Well, now there’s a video.
And it’s sensational:
No-one has mentioned it yet...it certainly is sensational video. It's also a very 'busy' video requiring return visits to catch the nuances. For anyone in Chch region, be sure to catch Lawrence Arabia and his chipper gang in the seaside settlement of Ohinehou tonight @ the Wunderbar. Drive up with great care through the picturesque Heathcote Valley and the country's longest road tunnel (@ 6,460 feet) to get there!
My personal favourite is Nick Kent's NME 'interview' with Lou in 1974 (featured in his early 90s book The Dark Stuff). Entitled 'Lou Reed: the Wasted Years' it chronicles Kent's encounter with him on another 'nothing-to-do night' in NY.
'From a distance the character looked just like another sub-human dementoid...looking to all the world like one of those mangy half-starved Mexican dogs who always appear limping pathetically across the desolate stone landscape of a Sam Peckinpah movie...Lou? LOU Reed?
It took me a good minute of solid staring to visually equate this utterly dissipated apparition with any previous physical incarnation that was ever named Lou Reed.'
The subsequent 'interview' shows Lou in a very parlous state indeed.