Marcia, my dear...

 

When I worked in music shops - many years ago - it was not uncommon practice to source some records and tapes from 'non-traditional suppliers:' in some cases, literally, off the back of a tatty, smelly van that had almost certainly, like much of the stock they carried, recently failed its MOT.  Many an hour was spent gently idling in these vehicles - pouring over some long deleted Magma LP, caressing the spines of remaindered Jetstar compilation albums and fingering the holes of some long forgotten cut-out.

Sex was always an option...

On one such occasion however, I found, to my surprise and no small astonishment, an album that has, even to this day, continued to beguile and bewitch.  Six copies of the album, to be exact.  I took them all - at a dealer price of less than £3 - and boxed them up, tenderly, lovingly, placing them next to an oddly juxtaposed admixture of Psychedelia, Easy-Listening and Jazz records (it was that kind of a shop.)

I never did sell any of the albums - well, reader, I sold one.  But I'll certainly never forget the feelings of exhilaration and transcendent joy when I took 'Sweet Bitter Love' home, placed the needle over track one, side one and listened to Marcia Griffiths sing.

Mondo Franco...

 

Despite what many might think, Jesus 'Jess' Franco was much more than just a trashy latter day purveyor of tits and ass (liberally covered in bright red stuff.)  Franco, who died earlier this month, was a ghoulish gourmand of gore who slathered his beautiful women and similarly adorned hunk-a-men with blood and guts and brains and more blood.  

Always, more blood.

Except that wasn't the whole picture.  Franco, in many ways, was the unlikely progenitor of much of the great Spanish horror that is current today.  Sure, his style may have been a bit workmanlike, lacking in the cinematographic niceties and technical brio of some of his more revered contemporaries, but central to all of his films, and this is why his movies will continue to captivate, thrill and be watched, is a consuming love and passionate intensity for the art of film-making - irrespective of the genre, the budget, the stars or, often, conspicuous lack of them.

Director, writer, musician, artist - Franco could do it all.  And, thankfully, for over 50 years, as the clip below of perhaps his most celebrated film, 1971's 'Vampyros Lesbos' shows, he never tired of making films the uniquely Franco way...

Hell, we can even forgive him 'Mondo Cannibale...'

  

   

Louie CK Louie CK...

Sometimes, I feel this way..

Louis Szekely has been a stand-up for over twenty years, performing and writing for, amongst others, David Letterman and Chris Rock.  It's only now, how and ever, with the relatively recent broadcast in the UK of his *stand/sit show on post-terrestrial TV, that's he's gained recognition. 

And, pleasantly surprisingly, popularity.

Like all trenchantly funny things, his comedy will not appeal to everyone.  However, if you're a fan of the slightly surreal - and we'll deal with the greatly surreal later - then you might just like Louie CK.

Cue, the greatly surreal:

 

*stand/sit - a show which features a combination of 'stand-up' comedy and 'situation' comedy. (copyright, S. Lee)

As an adjunct to the above, the Glasgow Comedy Festival starts today. 

Spread over a number of venues, the vast majority of which are conveniently located in the centre of the city, there's something for everyone, whether you're a fan of Jerry Sadowitz or not (and if you're not, why are you reading this blog?)  

Anyway, here's David Kay, the undoubted star of Stewart Lee's 'Alternative Comedy Experience.'