A Sizeable Question

All is quiet.

Your hands tremble with fear and embarrassment. All around you people march past with glazed, unfeeling eyes, getting on with their daily routine, unaware of the internal struggle going on between your brain, your heart and your stomach. Sweating profusely, you stretch out your unsteady arm to grab the nearest article, ducking away into the crowd like a petty criminal, ashamed of yourself. You stagger to the cold MDF counter and lay the spoils of your hunt down before the stone-faced assistant like a slaughtered lamb on the butcher's slab.

Struggling out of La Senza, you shed a solitary guilty tear as you remember your empty boasts. "Shopping for my girlfriend? Easy!!"

OK, so that may not happen to everyone. But having said that, how many of your guys have a girlfriend? How many know her clothes size? And that's without any of the following 'help': being told outright, or picking her garment off of the bedroom floor and checking the label. And even if you know that your lovely miss is for example a 12 up top, did you bother to listen when she said "Oh but I'm a 12 in New Look and a 14 in Monsoon and a 10 in River Island and a Medium in Next and a 24 in Primark..."

My point is, I have a beef with those women of the "You bought me the wrong size? How dare you. How dare you insult me with your presence, get out of my life, you never loved me, blah blah."

Judging by my approxiamtion of what a shopping trip must be like for a guy purchasing for his fairer half, I'm not surprised that the number of men eager to buy their girlfriend clothing as gifts is waning furiously. I SAID WANING. During a conversation with my poor put-upon boyfriend, I casually asked him what size he thought I was. "Er..." he said, all the while probably thinking he aught to remove himself from the kitchen and the array of sharp objects before answering, "er....a.12?"

I was extremely flattered, and I didn't mind admitting that I am actually a 14-16. I say this because I'm a 14 in New Look, 16 in Next, yada yada - and that's just up top. There is no such think as a definitive 'size' any more. Look through my wardrobe (don't, actually; I'll be mighty pissed) and you'll find 14s, 16s, the odd 12 and 18 in both tops and bottoms. This is because I'm bigger up-top than on my hips. And I'm not the only girl with this trait...but then not all girls are like me

So you guys have a tough time already before you've even hit the shops. Take lingerie shopping for example. I'm actually in London as part of my Christmas/Easter treat, and Mr Brawn has allowed me to visit the Covent Garden branch of lingerie mogul Bravissimo's stores. And there I will be buying my own lingerie, simply because I am one of these women who does not always fit directly into the size 'niche'. Of course, I could send him in there with my money and see what happens, but to be honest I could probably predict that I will wind up out of pocket and out of decent bras.

So give men a chance, for Freya's sake. Stop berating them when they get the tiniest thing wrong. The odds are stacked pretty high against them as it is, and anyway isn't it better in the long run to carry on letting them think you're a 12?

We've Got It Covered

(This Blog contains live links to other media such as Spotify and YouTube. In no way do I own, accept responsibility for or endorse any material outside of this Blog and my own writing. So there.)

Cover versions. They're everywhere: whether the sublime or the ridiculous. You might say (or rather a record exec might say) that recording a cover version of a hitherto-popular song is a sure fire way to get very popular very quickly (see the cover of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" by the cast of breakthrough American series Glee), and in fact to enable the original artists to regain a little popularity (see the exact same case).

But sometimes, it all goes horribly right. I've been working on this Blog for some time (in my head of course), and with a little help from my friends (incidentally, the Joe Cocker cover version of that song is a good'un) I think I've finally cracked it. Behold, my captive audience:

Covers That Are Better Than the Originals*.

"ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER"

Original artist Bob Dylan, cover by The Jimi Hendrix Experience

All right, start at the top why don't we. This is quite possibly, and arguably, the most famous cover version in contemporary music. And I would like to state (and should have done so earlier) that I am not about to stand on my pedestal and widdle all over the original artists. Click on the link above and you may find a silent appreciation for Dylan's work. Embellished with Hendrix's trademark guitar handiwork and given 'attitude' with the inclusion of bass and a drum kit, this version was so highly appreciated that Dylan himself now plays a version akin to it at his own shows. The inclusion of it in recent blockbuster film The Watchmen has caused another surge in popularity. And come on: how many of you had honestly heard of Dylan's version first?

"WORD UP"

Original artist Cameo, cover by Gun

Previously unheard-of Scottish band Gun scored a big one with the almost unthinkable premise: make a rock cover of a hip-hop song. Personally I like to think of this cover as 'different' rather than 'better', but taste accounts for much: a lot of my Facebook critics preferred Gun's version as it made a previously niche song instantly accessible to a wider audience. I partially agree; a lot of people can enjoy the pounding guitar substitute for trademark 80s synth or the change in vocals from typically 80s Black hip-hop sass to melodious but gravelly, but admittedly those who are fans of the original (like myself) will enjoy it merely as a re-interpretation of the original. Cameo also enjoyed a little revival amongst those old enough to remember arcade dance game Dance Dance Revolution (guilty as charged).

"HEARTBEATS"

Original artists The Knife, cover by Jose Gonzales

Ahh...it's hard to listen to this track without the mental image of multicoloured balls bouncing down a hill. The original reads a bit like Kate Bush meets early Hot Chip, whereas the cover feels much more laid back and comfortable in contrast to the jerky, robotic palette of effects over The Knife's original. This is a cover that doesn't actually deviate much: listen to the synthesizer melody from the original and it is basically substituted with an acoustic guitar. Male vocal covers of female vocal-led songs (and vice versa in fact) are often interesting to listen to, simply for the pleasure of wondering where the vocalist will take the melody. Simple yet pleasurable.

"I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF"

Original artist Dusty Springfield (written by Burt Bacharach), cover by The White Stripes

Here we have another track which sticks to the same basic melody, merely substituting the instruments: Jack White's pained drawl instead of Dusty's blythe voice, a striking chord on the guitar after every phrase as opposed to a brass fanfare. Bacharach was known for his orchestral 'pop songs' and the 'Stripes have done well, stripping the track down to the bare bones and resourcing it as a rock anthem. Where Dusty sings of a failed relationship against the dramatic backing of a full orchestra (strings and all folks), the White Stripes have reduced it down to nothing only to have the song sound just as 'final' as the lyrics themselves suggest.

"MAD WORLD"

Original artists Tears For Fears, cover by Michael Andrews and Gary Jules

Now I have to say: I actually prefer the Tears For Fears version. And I believe I prefer it not just because I am a huge fan of most things to gain populace in the 80s (see also: Queen, studded leather, Bruce Springsteen's buttocks), but because the simplified version that was incidentally the music chart number one of Christmas 2003 is incredibly sad. Anyone remember 2003? I do, and it was pretty depressing: the Space Shuttle Columbia disintegrates over Texas, the first case of SARS is discovered in Korea, the Western invasion of Iraq begins, two bombs detonated in Mumbai kill thousands...isn't that a "mad world" itself? And the track: like many of the previous tracks reviewed in this blog, it takes a synthesizer-laden anthem down to the basics: piano and vocals. There's a tiny bit of strings and production on the vocals, some overlay...if you listen to the first few bars of the Tears For Fears original, what does it convey? A beating rhythm; panic, rushing about. Pulsing, wailing synths. Contrast that with the melancholic minor chords of the piano and the plaintive voice of Gary Jules, and to me this song feels like it should be slipping un-noticed out of your speakers and going to sit in the corner facing the wall. Re-worked like this, this song saddens and terrifies me...and I'm not entirely sure I'm quite ready to face that. But Joe Public loved it, and its feature in cult favourite film Donnie Darko certainly helped.

"WHAT'S SO FUNNY 'BOUT PEACE, LOVE AND UNDERSTANDING?"

Original version Nick Lowe (Brinsley Schwarz), cover version by Elvis Costello and the Attractions

Now this is a welcome example where the cover and the original are from the same genre. Costello, now more of a singer-songwriter in his recent years, started off as a mostly punk/New Wave outfit and was actually a good friend of Lowe himself. I think what makes this a particularly good example of a good cover was the input: Lowe at this point in Costello's career was actually the group's producer, and was attributed not only with the writing credits but the production credits also. A version was recorded by crooner Curtis Stigers for the 1992 film The Bodyguard; the royalties from which made Lowe (as he put it himself) "a very wealthy man", but somehow the Costello version has been met with more acclaim. Perhaps its Elvis' despairing and condemning delivery of the vocals, perhaps the rich harmonies or maybe the New Wave edge familiar to that era (where acts like Blondie and the Talking Heads were becoming household names).

"TAINTED LOVE"

Original by Gloria Jones, cover version by Soft Cell OR Marilyn Manson

Aha. You see what I did there? I'd like to think I'm broadening my readers' minds by offering a choice; what I'm actually doing is being a bit of a smartarse. Let's assume none of you jumped to the latter conclusion and soldier on. I firstly say listen to the original because I bet you thought the song originated with Soft Cell. Which, quite frankly, stands as a testament to how good the cover version was. My Facebook reviewer (which was in fact, my own father) described the Soft Cell version as "a slice of definitive 80s" which really is a nice way of putting it: synthesizers from the melody through to the drums, the neo-Gothic subtext...which brings us nicely into Manson's reinterpretation of the track as a grinding, slamming piece of Gothic mash. It's as if someone melted the '45 of the Soft Cell version onto their fist, wrapped a Gothic-studded belt around it and punched you square in the eardrum. Lovely.

"RESPECT"

Original by Otis Redding, cover by Aretha Franklin

Now a staple on chick-flick soundtracks everywhere, Aretha switched the gender role with her version of this song. Both versions are definitive R&B: the rest of the world can keep their Beyonces and Rhiannas Riyannas Riyhannas Barbadian women. The versions themselves aren't that dissimilar, both firmly planted in the Rhythm and Blues genre, but subtle changes like the lyrics ("You can do me wrong / While I'm gone" becomes "I ain't gonna do you wrong /...because I don't wanna") make a big change. The woman has attitude, there's no pleading any more. And that is why this version is so popular; similar to Franklin's "Think" which had also been adopted as a feminine anthem.

"JEALOUS GUY"

Original by John Lennon, cover by Roxy Music

Mr Ferry and Co. received a lot of criticism for releasing this 'tribute' to Lennon in March 1981, months after Lennon's death. They even dubbed the 45" release 'Jealous Guy - a tribute' in his honour. Personally, nothing will come close to Lennon's tender piano ballad, but Roxy Music brought the single to a new audience and provided a fitting re-interpretation at a time when reflection upon Lennon's music was paramount. The traditional-ness of the original ballad style is toned down, proving that "piano does not necessarily a ballad make", and Ferry's melodic whistling over the third verse and out-tro adds to the wistful portrait of the self-confessed, apologetic green-eyed monster. Lennon could be tender at times, and Roxy Music brought back the tenderness is a display of what I do not believe to be cashing in on the death of a 20th Century icon.

There are many more I could write about (and will do again at some point: I'm aware of this Blog's now considerable length), but for now I'll leave you with a few one-sentence reviews of bad cover versions. Because, let's be honest, a few words is all they deserve.

"Walk This Way" covered by Sugababes and Girls Aloud - Watered-down imagining of arguably the best Rock/Hip-Hop collaboration ever. Watch out for hastily re-written lyrics that suck all of the sex appeal from the original.

"Fireflies" covered by Elliot Minor - Realeased all too soon after the genius of the original, leaving a slightly bitter taste in the mouth. Unoriginal take on an inventive song; the orchestrated introduction completely detracts from the sparse beauty of the original and the piano pieces are now too all-over-the-place, distracting from the melody. Also, the inclusion of 'dildo' in the lyrics just f*cking immature. Sorry.

"Sweet Child 'O Mine" covered by Sheryl Crow - This is like downgrading the song to 'Easy Listening'. Really not my cup of tea, and probably not anyone else's. Please go away.

"Under Pressure" covered by Satan Vanilla Ice and Jedward - I'm sorry, I can't review this needless exploitative rubbish. Listening to more than thirty seconds converts me to such blind, violent outrage that I may rip out my own intestines and start strangling people with them.

"Under The Bridge" covered by All Saints - Where has the melody gone? It's been converted into mewling "arr-and-bee" drivel by The Amazing Farting Drivel Band 90s girl group All Saints. At least the guitar riff is still mostly there, albeit smothered like a flower by weeds.

"Wonderful Tonight" covered by Damage - "Tonight, tonight, tonight" croons the identikit lead singer over a cringe-inducing synth harp and Spanish guitar interpretation of the riff. Listen at your peril: it gives me nightmares about a Dystopian future where all boybands will be forced to cover classics as some weird record label rite of passage. Oh wait - isn't that already in force?

That's all folks. Tune in again soon, while Neety starts trying to organise things. Don't say you weren't warned.

Size Matters

It's Blog time again, sweethearts. And I'm going back to the heart of what all this Blog stands for: women's issues. No, I don't mean "Shit I'm late: I've got time to either shave my armpits or my face" or "I can't find the string, does that mean it's stuck inside?!". I haven't done one of these Blogs for a while and I've quite missed it, and I've hoped you have too - if not, why in Zod's name are you still reading this?

At the very least, it's not a moan this time. I was just perusing the local paper (as you do) and I stumbled across this little gem. (The Herald isn't actually my local paper, I just couldn't find it on the local paper's site, fact fans). For those of you too lazy to click yet another button, here's the story in a nutshell: Debenhams of Oxford Street, London, has started displaying Size 16 models in its front display windows. The tagline poster on their shop front reads "I'm a Size 16. Do you want to see more of me?"

Harking back to an article I wrote a little while ago about the average UK womens' size, surely this is a plus (pardon the pun). Allegedly, retailers feel they are responsible for the amount of women who come back to their shops after purchasing a garment, dissatisfied because it didn't look the same on them as it did on the shop-standard, size 10 mannequins.

So this is a great move for all women and retailers alike. I mean, if we can have size 10 and size 16 models, why not dummies of all different sizes? I'm sure there are a few women out there that can buy an outfit straight off of the rail, take it home and look as good as the mannequins (slightly plastic skin tone, weird stances and lack of head aside); but I sure as heck don't know any. And I do know quite a lot of women.

The smart idea now is once we've got the ball rolling, we pass it on. Models of different sizes in catalogues, press advertisements, womens' and young girls' magazines. Less coverage of celebrities in this derogative tone. And please, for God's sake stop referring to size 14 and above models as "plus-sized". It's patronising.


(Just a quick warning: the latter link may make you react in this manner - "What?! WHAAAT! She/He's not FAT!")

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HO HO HO! Merry Your Religion, everybody!

Well, I hope everyone has had a good holiday and is at least half a stone heavier (especially you, you skinny little runt - yes that's right, I'm talking to YOU). I myself am full of the Christmas cheer, not to mention an entire Third World continent's worth of bacteria, and have decided that since my Christmas blog last year was a pre-festivities list of Christmas meanings, this years' post will be a post-Christmas effort (pun fully intended). That, and I couldn't be bothered to use the internet since the fork of lightning hit our aerial the Tuesday before Christmas.

Now as everyone knows, 'tis fast approaching the season for the New Year, and in fact the dawn of a new decade (as if that means anything significant: it's just a number, people). Therefore it's time for New Years' Resolutions. But I'm not making any, you see. This is for two main reasons:

1) They're always the same (e.g. lose weight, save money, stop selling other peoples' organs on the Black Market etc)

2) They don't work. Or I don't keep them, however you want to phrase it.

So I'm not making any for myself this year: instead I've decided to go global and take my whiny, diluted cynicism to a whole new stage. The way I see it, there's a few things wrong with the way certain things are done around here, and if perfectly sane Internet Folk like myself and my cherished readers are going to have to live in 2010 then we want something done to make damn sure its as good as it looks on the serving suggestion.

So without further ado: Neety's Guide to Not Messing Up in the New Year. (Don't say I never gives you naffink.)

Resolution: To cut down on the amount of famous people.

Who Does it Apply To?: Well, it's everyone's duty in part, a bit like cutting down on CO2 emissions or doing the washing up once in a while. (Not the global washing up, that'd be stupid.)

Why?: Because the proportion of 'celebrities' to famous people is waning. So for every person who is famous for doing something worthwhile, there are at least a hundred "socialites", reality TV "stars", and people who used to be in a girlband in the early '00s and now have about 5 kids by 6 different potential fathers. So what do we do? It's quite simple; we ignore them. Like the screamy flidding child in the sweetie aisle at Tesco, we play the part of the harangued but serene parent. Stop buying the magazines (those of the "NOW ONLY 37.5 PENCE!!!!!" ilk), stop buying their comeback single, stop Wikipedia'ing them. Just. STOP.

Resolution: To stop interrupting perfectly pleasant, passenger-driver conversation to yell at the car in front/adjacent/behind/two lanes ahead/embedded in your car's rear end.

Who Does it Apply To?: Pretty much everybody I know that can drive.

Why?: Because it's annoying beyond words. Ever had a conversation that goes something like: "So, how's things at work?"

"Oh, they're gre-"

"OH FOR GOD'S SAKE, INDICATE MAN, INDICATE!!" *wild hand gestures, etc*

It's just bloody rude. Either talk to me, or have your tiny motoring mental breakdown; don't do both, and then wonder why I don't ever tell you anything.

Resolution: To stop making "____ Movie" films.

Who Does it Apply To?: The creators of such films as (deep breath): Scary Movie, Date Movie, Epic Movie, Disaster Movie, Meet the Spartans, Scary Movie 2, Superhero Movie, and Scary Movie(s) 3, 4 and the impending 5. I could go on, but frankly I'd rather put my foot in a liquidizer.

Why?: They are awful. And not the good kind of awful, but the awful kind of awful. I'm not going to go over just how awful, mainly because I'm lazy but mostly because I've covered it before (look in the July 2009 Archives, in an entry titled "Sin-ema"). Nobody finds them funny, apart from the odd twelve-year-old boy. When you consider the list of other things 12-year-old boys find funny (which include farts, bogeys and boobs in a non-sexual sense) you'll understand what I mean.

Resolution: To stop whingeing about men for no valid reason whatsoever, and to cut down on sexual stereotyping.

Who Does it Apply To?: A fair few women. Particularly women who have never actually experienced anything that could be classified as "relationship trouble" in their lives. A man probably looked at you a bit funny once (maybe he was squinting?) and that was enough to render you disgusted at the entire male gender. Shut up forever, you whingeing, pathetic scorpion women.

Why?: OK, now I've calmed down a little bit, I shall explain: I need this resolution to restrain myself, because if I hear one more completely un-warranted sexual slant against men as a whole I shall reach out and slap the offender. And I mean general "men are useless" comments. No they're not. I'm all for Feminism; but real Feminism is dissolving the female stereotype, making a name for women and standing up for Women's Rights (against ANYONE necessary, not just men thank you). Not creating a thick-headed generalisation.

Resolution: To devise and invent a hair product that does EVERYTHING.

Who Does it Apply To?: Er...hair product lab scientists, me if I could be bothered.

Why?: The average man; for example this one, has one shampoo/hair product in his bathroom (and possibly a conditioner, seeing as though this certain man is rather...hirsute). Whereas I, the average woman, have approximately seven. Yes, seven - and that's after a clearout. This is because the nature of my hair changes on an everyday basis: sometimes my hair lacks moisture, so I need a moisturising shampoo. Sometimes it is frizzy, so I need an anti-frizz shampoo. Sometimes I want my hair to smell of apples, so I have a shampoo that smells of apples (and don't nobody DARE tell me I can't indulge myself, dammit). However, the Beatific Vision I have in my head is a shampoo that does all of this (and conditions hair too), without costing about half my paycheque and all my bathroom space. Oh, and if it could also cause a stinging sensation to the scalps of the thieving males in my family who then use my hair products WITHOUT ASKING, that'd be sweet too.

Resolution: To stop peeling all oranges, mandarins, clementines, satsumas, and in fact all citrus fruits into the shapes of penises. Complete with a neat set of citrusy testicles.

Who Does it Apply To?: My brother, Xela.

Why?: Because it's disgusting and puerile. And puts me off oranges. So if you're reading this, brother of mine: FACKING STOP.

Resolution: To bring back internet etiquette.

Who Does it Apply To?: Everyone who has ever used, uses, or will use the Internet.

Why?: Because it's a giant slanging match. Take one of my most visited websites; FML. People post up daily mishaps for...well, for Schadenfreude - if you don't know what this website's about, firstly where have you been? and secondly I'm not going to waste Blog time telling you about it, my few readers will tire of it. Admittedly some of them deserve it for being idiots; but a lot of people do have genuinely wistful tales of misfortune. And then there's the comments. There's even a "You Totally Deserved it" button, which is OK when the post is like the one I just linked to, but not when it's something like this. So what do I propose we do? Make the internet physical. Hire a group of massive ex-bouncers to roam the Physical Internet, or Physternet, with blackjacks and machetes. Let them loose on jerks. I don't have an answer for bloody everything. Except lazy journalism.

Resolution: To make football about football.

Who Does it Apply To?: OK, I've just run this by my Dad, who has been an Exeter City supporter for 52 years, and apparently I've got this right: over-sexed, overpaid Premiership players who make more in a week than a medical professional does in about a year and then demand more at every oppurtunity (cough CASHLEY cough); WAGs and their every little rubbishy nuances that frequently occupy crap mags (of the ilk stated above in the 'celebrities' resolution); and the poor "little league" teams that get nothing.

Why?: Because the demands for Premiership footballers' salaries are ridiculous. Buying and selling footballers has become like dogfighting - i.e. assemble a team of the biggest and best and most expensive, and then watch as the team name becomes increasingly irrelevant (e.g. Chelsea), and then the teams in the lower divisions suffer from a severe lack of funds and slowly go into administration. Really? Also, the 'celeb' side of it is rubbish. WAGs have every right to marry who they want, and if that happens to be a very overpaid footballer so be it; but do they need to be worshipped? This isn't celebrity, but plebrity.

And that's it folks. Have a Happy New Year, and if any of these resolutions apply to you, why not see if you can adhere to them, and see if something happens. It probably won't, but at least you'll have had fun

learnt something

done something useful

OH SHUT UP.

MEN: Breaking News, Women Love You [Part 3/5]

MOMENTARY DISCLAIMER: Hi there guys...I'm shuffling sheepishly back into your eyelines after my indefinite hiatus, brought on by firstly finding a job (WOOHOO!) and secondly taking on the role of Musical Director for Zenith Theatre's upcoming production (more news later). Here's the third installment in the "Men in Print" series. The fourth and fifth editions will be an ongoing project that you shouldn't expect this side of Christmas as it involves a collaboration.

Guys. I'm sure you're sick of me pointing this out to you by now, but you haven't had the best time in the press lately (and by lately I mean - well, ever). OK, so rights are never basically equal between our two sexes and they've still a long way to go, but Glass Ceiling aside, I know you're sick of being misrepresented: just read any of my Blog comments after the last two articles.

So I enlisted the Ladyfriends to help me out. I'm not going to dress this up any further, just to say that these were all genuine responses from my bevy of beauties: real women who responded to the question "What is the nicest thing any man any man has ever done for you?" So whether you're recognised as a brilliant brother, a fantastic father or the best boyfriend in Britain, here's to you.*

~~~

"My best friend bought me flowers for my Birthday. He picked the colour to co-ordinate with my bedroom, and he did it because he knew my boyfriend at the time refused to buy me flowers. It was the most thoughtful gift I think I've ever received."

~~~

"Hit 'Next' on a CD player to avoid a song that seriously gives me the creeps. Now I know that sounds an odd one to choose but it'll always stick in my mind. We both had long-term partners so he wasn't trying to impress me, it was just a really nice reminder that I had friends who liked me enough to remember which songs I liked and hated."

~~~

"Roses every month, and taking me shopping in London; all paid for."

~~~

"Ooh...a meal out for my Birthday, and being taken shopping."

~~~

"A surprise weekend away a few months ago...All I knew was to pack a bag for the weekend. We stayed in an amazing hotel and had a fantastic time."

~~~

"Just been there."

~~~

"Not holding grudges like I do. He just ignores idiots, and does it with a gruff kind of dignity."

~~~

"Still loving me when I'm like a stroppy five-year-old!"

~~~

"Putting up with my 'shit'."

~~~

"Sticking by me when I've fallen out with people. The way my brother treated them afterwards was with the utmost disdain - not something I expected or asked for, but it made me feel like someone cared that I was hurt."

~~~

So there we have it. I'm not going to say much more, except that I think everyone who reads this Blog has a girl or three out there that would happily tell the world how great they are. (Oh - and if you recognise yourselves, please keep it between yourself and the Ladyfriend in question.)