'Tis the season to list stuff

All the British blogs I like (namely Davey and his cohorts) are putting up lists. Well, there'll be none of that here. Unless I was to list the movies from the previous year which I haven't seen, or the albums I never bought. Don't get me wrong- I want to see No Country for Old Men, 3.10 to Yuma and so forth. But the only film I've seen this year which appears on all of these lists is the Bourne Supremacy. To my shame I saw all 3 of the Bourne movies this year. I pretty much refused to watch anything with Matt Damon from Good Will Hunting onwards, with the exception of his appearances in Kevin Smith movies. The Bourne movies are fantastic, because of the mouthwatering locations, the flawless action sequences (I was a bit bored by the car chase at the end of Ultimatum, but never mind) but mainly the fact that Jason Bourne is, for want of a better description, hard as fuck. But It's not all about how good he looks in a sweaty T-shirt. Hell, I even raised my opinion of Clive Owen after his appearance in the first instalment. So now I just think he's a twat.

300 replaced Gladiator as my guilty pleasure, and Ive even forgiven Mr Butler for P.S. I Love You'. I downright cackled at Hot Fuzz but it was Christmas and I may have been overcompensating. Another film I saw and was greatly impressed by was The Departed. Damo's performance may have even been the cause of my finally relinquishing and watching the Bourne Identity. I also enjoyed the Joe Strummer biopic and *gulp* I am Legend. When I move back to England, I promise to watch more movies.

As far as music goes, I've lifted a few albums from the Canadians I work with- from soundscapey stuff like Apparat, to obvious gear like MIA or Bedouin Soundclash, even Tori Amos-lite like Dresden Dolls - and bought the obvious stuff- QOTSA, Super Furry Animals. I like Era Vulgaris, but then I wasn't as hard on Lullabies to Paralyze (sic) as some. The SFA album is still slowly growing on me, despite the hideous artwork and lack of invention. But mostly Ive been listening to Maximo Park. Their first album, full of angry tales of spurned love/lust and a desire to escape their (I should really be saying 'his') surroundings drew me in, and their second album did not disappoint. I get the feeling I shouldn't like them, and many of my friends continue to tell me so, but there's something about the bargain-basement Baudelaire that keeps me interested, even with that painfully obvious video for Books From Boxes, which I will not be showing below. Plus I spotted Meester Smith in a pub in town and approached him about working for Warp while he was watching the Sunderland game, and found him to be a very nice fella.

Shock of the year for me would be Babyshambles. Despite seeing the Libertines live I never really fell for them until it was all over and Mr Doherty was made the nation's favourite pariah. Like the Libertines, Babyshambles have a very hands-off approach to production, with The Clash's Mick Jones overseeing both Libs' efforts and Babyshambles' debut. Basically they do ten takes and choose the best one- a far cry from the likes of Razorlight or the Kaiser Chiefs, with their loops and synths and general shiteness. There are songs on the debut and on Shotter's Nation which I think will remain favourites for me for years to come, and there are also songs which just remind me of Steptoe & Son. Which is a good thing. I truly hope he can keep his head above water long enough to blow a B-movie actress' face off in his California mansion for touching his favourite bongo.

Surprisingly, I've been reading a lot of books. In my bar manager era, it might take me a year to finish a book, if indeed I bothered at all; I will never finish Mr Nice, even after the boring old get turns up his toes. But now, with all the air and rail travel and sleepless, sober nights, I find myself acquiring another book before I've finished the last. Im dipping into various forms; Russell Brand's autobiography was a welcome Christmas present. Haruki Murakami had been a source of intrigue; a lot of girls seem to read his books, and I wanted to know why, bringing me inches closer to their undie elastic. And of course there are the historical texts on World War 2 which Im constantly swiping from my brother in law, as well his wide range of travelogues and Americana.

So, yeah. Reading is fun, kids. I suppose this blog is far easier to read- and indeed to write- than the usual shoegazing, soul-searching whingebaggery. But don't worry, there'll be more of that next time.