’69 – ’95 – Lemon Jelly
I must have first heard of Lemon Jelly when I was living in Huskisson Street in Liverpool, so that must have been about 1999-2000. I most certainly had some of their other albums on my battered old Creative Jukebox 2 and that died when I worked at Liverpool University.
Anyway, in this, the first of several Lemon Jelly albums that I “own”, the artists have used samples from their own record collection to piece together a tidy package of eclectic and eccentric electronica. The first track launches us into a rousing maelstrom of sound that whips us back in time style wise. At times the thumping beats can be a bit exhausting but the album maintains a consistent form. By the middle track ’79 The Shouty Track the listener is cheekily reminded of their time travel through the archives by a heavily Doctor Who influenced track. Curiously, I actually have a mix of the same track where the creator has mixed in the Doctor Who theme which works really well. Then further in, we reach a track where William Shatner does his “talking” to great effect. I understand that in return for this favour, Lemon Jelly provided some of the music for Shatner’s Has Been.
If, like me, you like variety in your modern music then you might like this album. For me, it’s a grower. It used to be my least favourite Lemon Jelly album, but continued listening has made it act like a dose of thrush which has spread across my musical taste buds. Even so, I couldn’t listen to it every day. Maybe occasionally.
Stegzy's Music Project 
Music Project – Album #2: …All this time by Sting
by stegzyI think this must have been one of Clair’s. You’ll notice as this project goes on, that I have a lot of unusual unconnected music tastes. This is one of them. Personally I can’t abide the bloke. Some of the Police songs are ok. But I’ve never liked Sting as an artist. If you were to ask me to delete some of my MP3s, I would probably delete this. But then sometimes there are moods where all you want is some Stingesque sounds.
If I lived in New York in an apartment overlooking the city in a re-purposed warehouse and it had been a sweltering hot day that had ended with a bit of rain. I would probably swing open the massive windows, pop this on the old MP3 player of choice and listen to it. Perhaps with a nice glass of red wine and some cheese with them nice little crackers with the pepper sprinkles.
I’d probably then invite some dark female media type round. We would listen to it together over some rent-a-pasta dinner and chat shit about media and wankery before she either calls me a boring twat or takes me to the bedroom for some Olympic sports.
The album is a bit of a live affair. One of those live affairs where the artist takes over some gentleman’s club (no not the sort you frequent) and performs to the diners who hoot and coo in approval in an attempt to appear well cultured when in reality they are as cultured as three week old yogurt. It takes you through some of Sting’s caterwaling before dipping into some Police classics and spitting you out the other side wanting to tipsily head off to bed with a dark sultry media type with big knockers.
Like I say, one for the fans. Or those in lofty rain soaked New York apartments.
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2001 Sting