In-Car Entertainment

Thought it was about time I tried something new, so on the way out this morning, I delved into the new music basket. (I'm so fond of buying a few CDs in the sales - especially from Fopp - that I tend to have a backlog of unlistened-to music. These go in a separate pile to ensure they don't get lost and find their way into the main CD racks without first receiving some attention.)

I'm a sucker for a new musical idea. One day I'd love to go through my collection and work out the influence that caused me to buy each artist : a friend's recommendation, a review, hearing it in a shop, parental choice... My attention was first drawn to the Beta Band through the film High Fidelity (and presumably the book, as well), in the scene where Rob puts on their Three EP's album specific to sell five copies. "Who is that?" a customer asks. "The Beta Band," replies Rob. "It's good!". "I know." Perfect. 'Dry The Rain's' catchy muted trumpet caught his customers, and it caught me, too.

Back then, the band were true rock experimentalists; you wouldn't go as far as to class most of their tracks as 'songs'. But Heroes to Zeros finds the Edinburgh foursome continuing their steady transition away from pure sonic doodling towards a more coherent sound. It's alienated more than a few of their fans, but I'm enjoying the change. There's only so much randomness you can take!

And I've taken to this album straight away. The opening few tracks showcase a powerful sound, with noticeably more guitar in the mix. A range of guitar sounds, too - I was thinking of U2, 60s pysch-fans Traffic and various grunge groups as each new piece started. But that doesn't mean we're darting around; it meshes together pretty well.

Favourite track was "Out-Side" - definitely borrowing more than a bit from the Monkees' "I'm Not Your Stepping Stone", but hey, what's wrong with that? And pleasingly, it's not a long dirge of an album; the second half returns to a more experimental sound, but it's restrained and doesn't outstay its welcome. An interesting transition, then, as the tracks start with solid pieces but gradually fade away - from Hereos to Zeros, you might say.

Album two, and already I'm hitting problems. People keep wanting a lift in my car, and keeping them company rather precludes serious listening. (Besides, we were listening out for the awful top-of-the-hour jingle on Classic FM.) As a result, I'm still listening to the last couple of songs on today's selection as I type.

I've been a fan of The Divine Comedy ever since Simon at school included 'The Frog Princess' on a compilation tape he'd made for a long car journey. It was so deliciously silly: the orchestral arrangement, the subject matter and Neil Hannon's resonant baritone voice. I bought the album (Casanova) and it quickly became a firm favourite. And then I did the natural thing of stocking up on the back catalogue.

Liberation was the band's first proper album (there's an earlier one which has never been reissued, and Neil's keeping it that way). The music is rather sparse in comparison with the later outings; a small string section on some pieces contrasts with the full orchestra found on Casanova. I think it works rather well - it provides a refreshingly clear sound that allows the lyrics room to breathe and be heard.

And what a range of lyrics there are. From the opener dealing with the life and times of Mr Benn, through metaphorical joyriding ("We took your Daddy's car/And wrapped it round a tree/We didn't know what for/We didn't feel like driving any more"), hayfever, and finally a spot of Wordsworth on 'Lucy'. It can be light and deep at the same time, managing to stay just on the right side of cloying.

I've not enjoyed the more recent Divine Comedy stuff quite as much as these earlier albums (although that's mainly owing to Radio 2 overplaying a few key tracks and then the rest of the world making comparisons with Scott Walker). Don't get me wrong; it's still good. It just lacks a certain carefree innocence found here, and for me that's where the charm lies.

So then, where to start: a famously 'classic' album, an old favourite, or brand new cutting-edge release? Well, it's none of those really. The first CD that grabbed me as I passed the rack on the way out to the car was this one, so I grabbed it and off we went.

French band Air wormed their way into people's heads when their first proper album, "Moon Safari", made a hit with advertising executives and posh drinking establishments the world over. Suddenly you couldn't move without hearing one of their tunes on an advert for some luxury car, or find a bar that didn't feature Air on their sound system. TV chef Gary Rhodes liberally pinched a few to back up his latest trendy cookery efforts. (Even I got in on the act - on my very first show on student radio, I played an Air track. But hey, it was unknown then!)

So there were big hopes for their second album: more laid-back pieces to prop up your dinner party! Instead, buyers of "10,000Hz Legend" were in for a bit of a shock. Air had taken things in a rather arty, self-indulgent direction. Gone were the subtle melodies that effortlessly washed over you, and in came jagged tracks demanding attention.

It was too much for most, and the album received a few unflattering write-ups. I felt the same; I'd eagerly awaited its arrival, and was rather let-down when I first listened. There was nothing quite so pure or so beautiful as on the first CD.

However, something odd has happened. Listening to it again this morning, I couldn't see why everyone had made such a fuss. All I could hear was Air. New directions and new tricks, maybe, but at the heart of it, it was the same clean, electronic spirit, just with some exciting new twists. Another favourite of mine, Beck, even pops up to lend a hand, and it all seems so 'right'. It works!

Now Air have gone on to release "Talkie Walkie" and things are a little more back to basics. "10,000Hz Legend" seems trapped in the middle; an odd attempt at striking out away from the lounge. But I think it's a real grower. Sure, it's complex, but just give it some time. You'll get there in the end.

I've succumbed. "Get a blog!" they all said, where 'they' means 'the entire world, everyone who's anyone, and his dog'. And so I have. And here it is. Shiny, isn't it?

However, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who set up blogs to tell the entire world about their pet gripes. There'll be none of that here. (I'm also not too keen on paradoxes.)

Nor will you find intimate details on my life, my lunch or my laundry. I believe blogging should reward the reader with something emotional, interesting, educational and maybe even informative. Whether I succeed, well, you can decide!

I love music. All sorts of music. My CD collection is frequently described as anything from 'eclectic' to 'bizarre'. And every day or so, I grab a random CD as I leave for work and play it. The round journey by car is generally long enough for an album, and listening to something old and familiar or new and unexplored is a great way to pass the time.

So here's the plan : my blog is going to be based around a review of each album. A few words on what it's about, where it sits, why it's good (or bad!) and whether I'd recommend it.

A laudable aim. Let's see how it goes! C'mon, it'll be a laugh...