We Don’t Have The Time For Psychological Romance

No time for psychological romance? What’s up with you man? Not that I’m sure what psychological romance is.

Word Up by Cameo is an absurdly good record. That codpiece always gets mentioned which reduces the record a little and turns it into an 80s novelty when it’s anything but. Word Up is a funky, dirty, slapbass monster that can still rock a dancefloor today.

Meanwhile John Steinbeck contemplates psychological romance, from his armchair, sometime in the 1930s.

Word Up

While I’m here, hello to readers in Haiti! One of the stats Blogger gives me is that it shows where readers come from- usually and mainly the UK and the US followed by various European countries and Canada. This week Haitian Bagging Area readers number forty- or one reader reading on forty different occasions. On some combination. This boggles my mind slightly- that a person or people in Haiti read my witterings, written in my room in M33.


I Went To A Party I Danced All Night

I’ve just remembered I was meant to be doing some Surf Sunday posts. Sorry George, I’ll try harder next week.

I think it was Dirk from Sexyloser who tipped me off to this, and my mp3 player has shuffled it up twice in the last few days- Nouvelle Vague, French loungecore/bossa nova/easy listening interpretors of punk, tackling a Dead Kennedys song and turning it from a fratboy anthem into something else entirely, particularly the inspired one-off vocal.

Too Drunk To Fuck

Plus a picture of John Steinbeck looking dapper, a man who would surely never be too drunk for a bit of hows-yer-father.