Sunday, April 27, 2008

Montys Loco is a peculiar name for a musical combo, I’ll grant you that. It occurs to me that it might be taken from a comic book called Robotman but you never know. Anyway, “Farewell Mr Happy” is the fourth(!) album by these two Swedish women.

Anja Bigrell and Marie Eklund make an unusual sound that comes over like Roxy Music going equal parts exotica/electronica. Anja’s vocal reminds me of Eva Parker from the great Scandopunk group Parker, with a little twist of Bjork but maybe that’s just the inflection rather than the voice itself.

Imagine if Shakespeare’s Sister had decided to introduce a Rev/Vega aspect to their work. I never heard anything quite like and their songs come across as oddly infectious. I don’t think that you can listen to “Ages Ago” at their myspace but have a wee taste of what is there. The first word in “Whose Blood” is “Saunter”, one that I don’t associate that with the Swedish language at all. “Nice White Boys” is a tad Carl Stalling.
I can’t find any information as to what makes this strange assortment possible let alone tick so virulently. I’m not even sure that’s a word but it describes what I’m too gobsmacked to explain any better. This gear is pretty fresh and not in the hip hop sense of the lingo.
ML display an experimental edge that approximates trip pop. I think they might be on to something - as opposed to being on something. Or perhaps even both?
Panic on the streets of Grungemooth? Well not exactly.

In the interest of "world events", in addition to the choicest rock'n'roll - I just took a stroll fout or the Sunday paper. The BP garage closest to the plant is 5 minutes walk from here. The forecourt was empty and the "won't get fueled again" scares of the media seem to be a good distance away. Further along the road, the pickets or whoever were assuming their positions.

There's a heightened police presence and I walked past two sauntering along Powdrake Road. That was the hotbed of activity last time but it's all quiet along there too. Trees have been strategically planted around the perimeter to reduce visibility in recent times, it's a while since I was round that way.

The plant itself is a little quieter. The birthday candle type flares are out and the hum has been replaced by the hiss of cooling. Janine from Spinal tap might describe it as being like "non-dobly"... Plumes of steam are rising from here and there but it is a tad quieter. Grangemouth itself is something of a fortress in that area these days. While you have to drive through the middle of the plant to get to Bo'ness, it's impossible to walk down the perimeter of the Grange Burn to the dock gates. Something to do with security. Or is it a further erosion of the right to roam? I always get those two mixed up.

So anyway, there's plenty of petrol here at the minute and BP and Jet tankers drove past me from the distro area evidently bound for an outlet near you. The scaremongering tosspots that caused this furore must be pretty pleased with themselves and the blame culture is revving up to demonise the union. Whilst I can't say that they won't miss a couple of days pay at their rates, the picture for further into the dispute looks muddy. For the minute we don't need the fuel that's alleged to be headed to the UK from elsewhere in Europe. Let's see where we are by Tuesday. Me?, I think I'm sorted until next weekend so that seems like an eternity from this point. There are no meeja vans parked along the street so just as well that I let that haggis roll idea go.

If I can be arsed, I might take another toddle out closer to the "action" later. But then again...