Play To Z: Standing In The Way Of Control to Their Satanic Majesties Request

Random Observations

  I've always struggled with OutKast. I know they're great. I can listen to them and appreciate the skill of their arrangements, the way they flawlessly blend styles and genres, their incisive, creative lyrics. But it's always been an intellectual connection, rather than an emotional one. Listening to Stankonia, the singles stand out, as does "Bombs Over Baghdad", but everything else sort of blurs together.

  Hey, Solange's version of "Stillness Is The Move" is pretty much amazing, isn't it?

  Strange Mercy, St. Vincent's latest album, is a glorious thing, a crystalline construction that's both delicate and strong. It makes sense that Annie Clark and David Byrne ended up working together, because they have a similar talent for building whole worlds within one song. Also, she gets sounds out of a guitar that few other people can.

  It took me a while to get a grip on The Suburbs, Arcade Fire's third album. It was released in August 2010 and I excitedly purchased it, but on first listen, something didn't click. There were great songs, but the album as a whole didn't slot into place in the way previous ones did. I put it aside for a while, and came back to it in November, when it suddenly all made sense. I was walking through the city listening to it and I literally said out loud "Oh...it's a winter album" because it totally is. Something about it works so well with walking around in the darkness, pulling yourself close inside your coat.

  Perhaps the iconic record of my high school years, Take Off Your Pants And Jacket by Blink 182 still has a direct line to certain areas of my brain. I was a pretty sedate teenager, so songs like "Roller Coaster" and "Reckless Abandon" conjured images of a world of carefree adventure and freedom that was beyond my anxious, shy reach. Listening back to it now, it makes me nostalgic for a past I never had, an odd experience that probably doesn't do my maturity level any good, but who needs maturity when you have pop-punk guitars?

  I was late coming to The Mountain Goats, only discovering them about two years ago. My discography is scattered, with chunks from various albums and only Transcendental Youth as a complete record. At some point when I am less broke, I will trawl through Amazon completing my collection. Until then, I will console myself with the fact that my sporadic assortment includes "No Children". I know it's everyone's favourite Mountain Goats song, but there's a reason for that. It's a beautifully simple expression of a seldom recognised emotion with a nice line in iconic lyrics.

  I mentioned the doldrums I found myself in when listening to this particular patch of albums, and no section represents it better than listening to Temple Of The Dog's self-titled album followed by Pearl Jam's Ten. I would have been around at exactly the right time for grunge, had I listened to anything beyond local radio at that time, which wasn't known for it's "alternative" bent. Listening to these albums now, I'm glad they hold no nostalgic affection for me, because they're awful. Self-indulgent, monotonous and glum, there's no albums that have made me ask myself "Why do I own this?" more.

Rediscovered Gem

"Wires and Waves" by Rilo Kiley

Play To Z: Shut Up, You F*cking Baby to The Stage Names

Random Observations

"Signs" by Justin Timberlake, Snoop Dogg and Charlie Wilson is one of those perfect party songs. The opening is just spot on, Timberlake's falsetto sliding in before the playful drum beat begins and the horns start to bubble underneath. Plus listening to Snoop Dogg rhyme "Venus and Serena" with "Wimbledon arena" is just a juicy pop pleasure.

  Bloc Party's Silent Alarm and The Knife's Silent Shout make wonderful neighbours,with Bloc Party's spiky, angular, pulsing rock giving way effortlessly to The Knife's vocal-driven, otherworldly electronica. Listening to these two albums back-to-back was a dream.

  If you ever want a group of people of our generation (mid-Eighties to early-Nineties) to drunkenly sing along to something, you could do a lot worse than "Don't Speak" by No Doubt.

  People don't give The Buzzcocks enough love. They were huge influences on the British punk scene (and therefore the British indie scene) from the very beginning of the movement (if you haven't already, go watch 24 Hour Party People) and they produced iconic, masterful, insightful songs, most of which came in under the magic 4 minute mark.

  It's a shame I didn't manage to tackle both of Das Racist's mixtapes, Shut Up, Man and Sit Down, Dude, in one blogging session. I still haven't gotten around to their album, Relax, but frankly the two mixtapes are 37 tracks between them, longer than most full albums. The fact that they won't be making music together anymore is such a shame - there was so much truth and humour in their rhymes, and we need more of that, in music and in life.

  The Social Network soundtrack is a great, atmospheric piece. It matches the tone of the film so perfectly without resorting to any of the cliches of film scoring. There are no sweeping overtures, no hushed variations for emotional scenes. Instead, there are a series of intricate, well-constructed pieces that fit together like elaborate clockwork, a machine designed to build dread and tension.

  Someone To Drive You Home by The Long Blondes is one of those albums that can take over your life. I discovered it at a point in my life when I was particularly open to that kind of infectious worldview and for two or three months, that album owned me. Like a sermon, like a manifesto, it constructs a perspective on life and romance that you can't help but pour yourself into. The characters in the songs are so well drawn, so true to life that you connect with them as well as you might with any protagonist from a novel or hero in a film. Kate Jackson's voice is a siren song, pulling you into the cynical, wearied waters of her world. From that place, all romance is a power game, a maneuvering of players where the men are selfish predators and the women are cruel and tragic. It's a dangerous world, filled with the allure of old films and danger of illicit liaisons. If you let it, it will take you over, and never let you go.

  Eels' Souljacker, like Shootenanny after it, bridges the gap between Daisies of the Galaxy's optimism and Blinking Lights and Other Revelations' ambitious melancholy with a harder, rougher sound. Where earlier records were like an open wound, this is the scab - toughened skin that tells a tale of an earlier injury. Mark Everett steps outside his own head a little, with tales of circus freaks and ghosts, but the evidence of his heartbreak is still there, in the anger of "Bus Stop Boxer" and the bruised vulnerability of "That's Not Really Funny". The ramshackle production matches the tone of the songs perfectly, and like all Eels albums it creates a wonderfully complete package.

  I know I'm meant to be sticking to the whole "each song gets one listen" rule, but I may have cheated a little when it comes to "All My Friends" by LCD Soundsystem. You know why? Because it's the best song this millennium has produced so far. Because it's a perfect cocktail of triumph and loss. Because it makes me want to run from door to door, pulling people out on to the street to scream into the sky. Because it makes me want to see all my friends tonight.

  The Stage Names was one of those albums I mentioned rediscovering in my last post. If you'd have asked me before this listen through what I could remember from it, I would have been able to talk about the spot on homage/sampling of The Beach Boys "Sloop John B" in "John Allyn Smith Sails" and nothing much beyond that. Now, I could talk about the building wail of "Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe", the pulsing thrum of the guitar hook on "Unless It's Kicks" and the oh-so-clever workplay of "Plus Ones" that manages to add, rather than detract, from the song.

  It was about this time in proceedings that I was gifted a selection of music by my friend Georgie, mostly new stuff that I hadn't got my hands on yet. Chief among the pleasures were Haim's Forever EP and Holy Fire, the new album from Foals. Forever is like a delicious slice of cake; sweet, tantalizing and leaves you aching for more. Holy Fire is filled with leap-out-of-speakers energy and brings together so much of Foals' earlier sounds into one cohesive whole.

Rediscovered Gem

"In The Mouth A Desert" by Pavement

Play To Z: Hitting The Wall

Two months is a long time between posts; long in normal time and even longer in Internet Time. Whole memes have been born, bloomed, withered and died in that time. The blog has rested, untouched while Margaret Thatcher jokes pinged back and forth across Twitter and people on Facebook spoiled Game of Thrones twists for their less up-to-date friends.

  So why so long without a post? Well, because now, as I near the end of the project (less than 1000 songs to go at current count), I hit the wall. Like a marathon runner in the final third of the race, I suddenly slacked, and listening to music became an effort. So many great albums lay behind me, now unlistenable until I had reached my finish line. So many new releases floated out there on Spotify and YouTube, tempting me. And worse of all, I hit a fallow patch in my album collection, with long stretches of albums that I had little passion for, with those that I did serving as only brief oases in a desert of mediocrity.

What This Is Happening looks like after 200 songs worth of "eh"

  It is, of course, my own fault. If I kept my music collection trimmed of any fat, this project would have been absent these sort of patches and noticeably shorter. I'd probably even be done by now. But I can't beat myself up too much - every album I own is a window into a period of my life, even the bad ones. It could be a band I once loved who I have now turned sour on, an album I bought out of curiousity and never listened to again, or something lent to me by a friend on the promise that I would love it that I now keep only as evidence that, yes I have listened to it.

  The whole point of this project was to both reconnect with these albums that had fallen to the wayside and to challenge the memories I had of them. In pushing through the wall, I've discovered some albums that I had cast aside prematurely. Coming back to listen to them, I've found new depths to their sound, new meaning in their lyrics. Certain songs have popped in ways they never did before. It's a nice way to measure myself as a person, knowing that I can come to the same song I merely tolerated two or three years ago and now find deeper purpose to it.

  All that said, there's a hell of a lot of material to cover here - over a thousand songs, more than three days of music. I'm going to parcel the random observations out between a few posts in the next couple of days, sometimes going into more depth where something merits a closer look.

Play To Z: Remix After All to Shut Up, Dude

Some Observations

No central thesis at the end of this series of observations, in part because this run of albums was so fantastic that narrowing down to one artist would be impossible. That said, there's a common theme that emerges through the observations...

  Return To Cookie Mountain was my introduction to TV On The Radio. Well, I say it was my introduction - my real introduction was seeing them perform live at a one-day festival in Mountain View, California (home of Google). It wasn't the perfect introduction: we were far back from the stage, they were on early in the day, and I think they're one of those bands that are better suited to a venue than a festival (The Shins also played, and their sound was lost in the larger arena). That said, they made enough of an impact with their performance that I went out and bought the album, and it didn't disappoint. Their sound was unlike anything else I was listening to at that time, fusing electro, funk, blues and rock and making something new from them. They're one of those bands that's not afraid to push their sound in new directions, and that's always rewarding.

  Talking of pushing your sound...Revolver. What can I write about Revolver (that hasn't been written already, by people much smarter than me)? It's a truly remarkable album, my favourite of the Beatles' discography, and really shows the band as they transition from their original Merseybeat pop sound to something a lot more experimental.

  And from Revolver, we move on to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, with Bowie going full blown concept-album space opera and embracing one of his most iconic personas. Again, it sees an artist pushing themselves to create something wholly new but still powered by a pop sensibility.

  And leaping forward in time, we have Robyn, with everyone's favourite batshit insane Swede fusing her pop heritage with electronica and hip-hop and crafting something fierce and angular but still run through with warmth and humour. Robyn is one of those artists who has constantly evolved over time, moving from prepackaged pop starlet to an iconic pop mistress for the new millennium, all while playing entirely by her own rules. We need more pop stars like her.



  "Bust-Out Brigade" by The Go! Team does strange things to my head. It's one of those songs I can listen to 10 times in a row and never grow bored of. It transports me to a different world, one where marching bands move in synchronised patterns around double dutch teams as blaxploitation detectives and kung fu fighters leap from fireballs. It makes me feel invincible.

  And we come to Romance Is Boring, my favourite album by my favourite band, Los Campesinos! If we ignore the EEP released in between, the leap from Hold On Now, Youngster to this album is considerable. Romance... is a much more adult, serious record, leaving behind a lot of the twee conceits of their first album but retaining their incisive observations and lyrical flourishes. Their sound is expanded, adding horns and a richer palette of instruments. It manages to move from rollicking anthems of romantic cynicism to heartbreaking hymns of young death easily. It is a wonder.

  Beck's Sea Change is his most personal record, a heartfelt collection of slow, haunting songs after several albums drenched in ironic distance. It's like mainlining melancholy; a brave choice for a artist most wouldn't have associated with this kind of work before, but it pays off. It shows a whole other side of Beck's songwriting talent, and gives us songs of breath-taking beauty.

  In case you were wondering, the best Bond theme is "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" and there is absolutely no contest.

Rediscovered Gem

"Honeybear" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Play To Z: Plug In, Plug Out to The Reminder

Some Observations

"Two Princes" by The Spin Doctors is a pretty fantastic example of early 90s college rock and is a damned fine song, but I will never, ever be able to separate it from Third Eye Blind's "Semi-Charmed Life" in my brain. The two are musical conjoined twins as far as I'm concerned.

  I don't own anything else by Madeon, the French DJ between this inspired mash-up, but if "Pop Culture" is anything to go by, he is a demon sent from Hell to make me dance.



  I've already mentioned my cheapskate decision to make my niece and nephews mixes this Christmas in lieu of the proper presents I couldn't afford, but to be honest I'm pretty damn happy with how they turned out, especially when they include introducing my 9 year-old manic-ball-of-energy nephew to "Fast Turtle" by Anamanguchi.

  If I had to pick a single band to soundtrack my life, I would without hesitation pick The Go! Team. Proof Of Youth saw them in fine form, not only expanding on their "70s car chase through Sesame Street with Sonic Youth in pursuit" sound, but also proving they could tackle the occasional smaller, quieter song. Still, it would be nice to have a life that consisted mostly of kung-fu action spectaculars and leaping off piers to avoid explosions.

  I've never had sex while listening to Purple Rain, but if you do, I'm pretty sure it counts as a threesome by every metric that counts.

Prince will sex you now

  "Ignition (Remix)" turned 10 years old last week. 10 years of being the best party song of all time. John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats started a masterful post of 100 reasons why the song is so brilliant, which just shows that A) John Darnielle is great and B) "Ignition (Remix) crosses all boundaries. It is the Great Uniter, because everyone wants it to be the Best Party Ever, no matter what they're doing at the time.

  I bought the first two volumes of Radio One's Live Lounge collections back when my music taste wasn't as well-defined and I thought "Hey, maybe I want to hear The Kooks cover Gnarls Barkley", but there are a gems amongst the echoing void of personality. Lemar's soulful version of The Darkness' "I Believe In A Thing Called Love", Franz Ferdinand's take on Gwen Stefani's "What You Waiting For?" that slides into Billy Idol's "White Wedding" and Corinne Bailey Rae's transformation of Justin Timberlake's "Sexyback" into a 20's enfused jazz number are all worth a listen.

  I am not much of a rocker (I know you all just fell off your chairs in surprise) but "Killing In The Name" by Rage Against The Machine will always hold a special place in my heart. When it plays, I can almost feel the sticky floors and smell the thick air of our local "alternative" club, The Waterfront.

  I only recently picked up (i.e. rented from the library and burnt onto my laptop) Taylor Swift's masterful Red, and as such, I've only listened to most of the songs once. That said, the other day I listened to "I Knew You Were Trouble" maybe 30 times on repeat, so I feel fairly secure in saying it's a spectacular example of a pop album. There are some missteps, of course, but alongside "I Knew You Were Trouble" and the peerless "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together", "State Of Grace", "All Too Well", "22" and "Begin Again" all leapt out on first listen as stellar examples of Swift's brand of country pop, managing to push the envelope of her sound while still feel classic and effortless.

  Sleigh Bells' sophomore effort Reign Of Terror wasn't quite as assured as Treats, and skewed a little harder towards the big stadium sound of bands like Slayer and Iron Maiden, but it stilled produced songs like "Born To Lose" and "Comeback Kid", and the way it moves from a big anthemic beginning to a more subdued ending feels like the hangover slowly creeping in as you wander home at 5 in the morning, watching the sun rise.

Coming Back To The Shins; or, Street Level Versus Cosmic

  Listening to Port Of Morrow, The Shins long-time-coming 2012 album, it never clicked in the same way their earlier records did. I could point the finger at the long gap between albums or the almost complete change in the band's line-up, but in truth I'm not the same listener as I was when I first discovered the band 10 years ago.

  To me, my defining Shins experience was indelibly linking the song "Turn A Square" to a girl I had a massive crush on in the second year of Sixth Form. When I heard the song, I pictured her, and when I saw her the song would be on the tip of my tongue. The crush ended up going nowhere - I harboured it through the rest of Sixth Form, and finally drunkenly confessed it to her towards the end of the first year of university, just before she left a club with another guy.

  As much as I can still appreciate the skill and artistry of The Shins' work, their songs have a certain amount of idealism and naivete to them, not just in the lyrics but in their whole atmosphere. It's not an exaggeration to say they were my favourite band at one point, but they've been replaced (with a few steps in between) by Los Campesinos!, a band you could never accuse of naivete. Their songs are filled with telling details that root them in real heartbreak, all bloodied knees and walking home in the cold, and when they aren't tragic, they're still founded in the knowledge that the happiness is fleeting.


  This all sounds very bleak, but that's all a matter of perspective. Acknowledging that most relationships end and most people aren't perfect doesn't mean you can't enjoy the good times. After a particularly drama-filled Hallowe'en last year, I awoke with an almost Zen-like sense of enlightenment at the thought that I am friends with so many hot messes. Our beauty is in our imperfections, our glory is in our flaws.

  This line of thought ties closely to something my housemate and I have been discussing for some while (and several of our friends have been dragged into), which we call the Street Level/Cosmic Spectrum. In Marvel comics*, heroes run the gamut in power levels, from characters like The Punisher who are non-powered humans fighting muggers and drug dealers, up through Captain America and Iron Man to figures like the Silver Surfer and Nova, who fight epic space battles against foes like Annihilus and Ego The Living Planet.

Indeed he is

  As well as the difference in the power of their respective protagonists, these stories also have distinctly varying tones. When a reasonably mid-powered Spider-Woman showed up in the street level title Alias, it was because she was being used as a source of superpower-granting drugs. When a regular human appears in a cosmic level story, they become a Flash Gordan-style figure, holding their own against the aliens and abstract universal manifestations.

  We've started applying these distinctions to our outlooks on life, and more specifically relationships. Street level denotes a certain amount of realism and an embracing of life's scummier elements. It's about grabbing hold of the whole of life, dirty parts included, and diving in head first. Cosmic level means taking a slightly more romantic view on life (it doesn't necessarily mean idealistic - an entrenched cynic who sees the worst in everything can be just as cosmic) and a tendency to see your own life in narrative terms. Cosmic types get their heart broken more often, because they fall in love harder and more readily. Street level types take love's slings and arrows with a weary shrug and move on.

  Of course, the whole thing is a spectrum. Most of the superheroes in the Marvel universe are not purely street level or cosmic: they sit somewhere in between. It's the same with most people - we're a mix of hard-worn realism and starry-eyed romance (usually the latter kicks in during crushes, the start of relationships and break-ups). The whole theory is a work-in-progress, but my own move from cosmic level teen to street level adult is definitely reflected in my evolving music taste.

*To be fair, this also applies to DC, but their universe tends to be more "cosmic" overall, so the metaphor doesn't work as well

Rediscovered Gem

Neon Indian - Psychic Chasms (The Phenomenal Handclap Band Remix)

Play To Z: Odelay to Please Please Me

Random Observations

Odelay is one of my favourite albums, and one of the few where every track is considered a favourite. I love all of Beck's albums to some degree or another, but I'm not sure he'll ever surpass this one. It's a perfect realisation of his early "junkyard mash-up" sound that still carries a lot of heart underneath all the samples and white noise.

  I've talked about where my musical taste comes from, and how my family have had very little impact on my choices, but one figure who has is my half-brother Jeff. Almost 30 years my elder and seen for perhaps 4 or 5 days a year, he has nonetheless managed to steer me towards some great artists, such as Martin Grech, who's Open Heart Zoo I would describe as "a howl of rage and sadness by a robot conducting an orchestra in a metalwork factory".

  It's a stupid complaint, because in theory it's an easy fix, but I've always been annoyed at myself for not being more involved in our local music scene. I don't know why I'm not - Norwich has a pretty vibrant musical culture, and I've even got friends who dabble in it, but I've just never got into the swing of it. One of the bands I have come across is The Brownies, an excellent indie rock band following in the steps of the Riot Grrl movement. Their album, Ourknife Yourback, is a great record filled with fantastically spiky tunes.

  Jamie T's Panic Prevention is one of those albums that I'll forever associate with the time I spent in America, not that it's at all American. In fact, it's one of those albums that I find amazingly evocative of London. It's kind of the flip side to The Good, The Bad and The Queen, which feels rooted in London's history and mythology. Panic Prevention is about the reality - dance floors and minor tragedies and lap dancers and getting the last tube home. It feels like a good collection of short stories, giving momentary glances into people's lives, filled with rich detail and a lived-in quality.

  Parallel Lines. 'Nuff said.

  When I was around 8 or 9, my sister taped me a copy of Blur's Parklife with, inexplicably, "Gangsta's Paradise" added on before and after the album. It was one of the few albums from that time in my life that I still listen to, although unfortunately it's no longer on my turquoise Sony Walkman, sandwiched in between Coolio.

  Paul's Boutique. 'Nuff said.

  I find all The Decemberists' albums enjoyable to some extent, but I think Picaresque might be my favourite.  There's a wonderful seam of tragedy running through the whole thing, from the adolescent embarrassment of "The Sporting Life" to the grotesque vengeance of "The Mariner's Revenge Song". Perhaps the saddest of the lot, I would rate "On The Bus Mall" amongst my all-time favourite songs, even though it's the tale of two homeless teenage runaways forced into prostitution to survive.

Rediscovered Gem

"Vessel" by Zola Jesus

2012: A Pop Culture Year In Tweets

2012 started with a party, of course

After completely failing to celebrate my birthday the previous year, 2012 saw me take a whole bunch of friends down to London, where we bought comics, ran around Hamley's and the Science Museum and ate a grotesque amount of BBQ at Bodean's.

This wasn't due to anything. I just still think this is funny.

I stand by my original assessment. Michael Fassbender's penis is gigantic. Also, Shame was very good. Probably the best looking film I saw all year, and with tremendous performances from all.

A good couple of days - the never-ending gift that was Maya Rudolph hosting SNL, the announcement of Phonogram's approaching third series, and Helena Shepherd kicked ass.

The Warriors is a great film, but watching an original print of it at midnight then wandering back through the deserted city makes it even better.

Saga has been one of the consistently great comics of the year - smart, funny, original and heartfelt, with astonishingly good art from Fiona Staples, who combines flawless storytelling, great character design and a flair for conveying emotion to brilliant effect.

Los Campesinos! are my favourite band, and their shows are always great: amazing energy, great banter and stellar performances. Plus, I got to hang out with the now sadly departed Ellen afterwards and chat about podcasts and stuff.

New Girl took a while to win me over, and definitely had a shaky start, but its slowly proved itself to be funny week in, week out, often reaching the heights of hilarious. Plus I've realised I share Schmidt's control issues in the kitchen.

I can't even remember why we were throwing a party on this particular night, but I think we can definitely call this The Year Tim and Bret Perfected Their House Party Skills

 It may not be high art, or even among what I consider my Top 5 films of the year, but Avengers was the most fun I've had at the cinema for a long, long while, and isn't that what really matters.

This still saddens me to think about. I think it may be the first celebrity death I can honestly say I've felt affected me. We miss you, MCA.

Parks and Recreation continues to be amazing. This, the final episode of Season 4, saw Amy Poehler's Leslie Knope elected as a city councilwoman, and honestly had me welling up alongside her as she cast her ballot.

 

Race issues aside*, Girls has proved itself to be pretty damn good. It feels a lot like a series of short stories at times, but that doesn't put me off of it - in fact, more television could do with doing smaller, better observed stories. Still needs more Shoshanna though.

*My two cents: yes, it's awfully white. So is most TV, but for what is meant to be an honest portrayal of contemporary New York, that is either a massive oversight or says a lot about Lena Dunham's world, and when she says she doesn't care about those sorts of things, she sounds like an idiot.

 

 Always a pleasure to see official Friend of the Blog Alex Spencer, and finally meeting Robin and Michael in person was great. Had a lot of fun recording a podcast with them, and it was a great taster for Thought Bubble in November...

The Dark Knight Rises wasn't good. Deal with it. Neither was Spider-Man 3, but at least it had a sequence in which James Franco danced and made an omelette.

 

Shut Up And Play The Hits was one of those bittersweet experiences, watching a band you love perform their last ever show, knowing they're finishing on a high. So glad I got to see it on a big screen.

 I didn't watch nearly as many classic films as I should have in my quest to watch 100 films I'd never seen before this year, but at least I got round to watching The Godfather. Maybe this year, I'll watch Part 2.

 Another trip down to London town, this time to see the talented Michael Eckett perform in his own quickfire play that runs through the history of comics, and drink with Alex Spencer. In addition, I got to spend the next day walking around London, taking reference photos for The Broken City.

This was also the Year We Started Bros & Cons, our frequently anarchic comedy advice podcast. If you're reading this and you haven't already listened to it, go now! What are you waiting for?

My housemate Bret managed to devise a version of fantasy football that used actual fantasy figures - my team included Doctor Doom, Lion-O, the Creature from the Black Lagoon and River Tam. Our group of friends are not sports people, but for nine weeks we talked tactics, passing strategy and whether Deadpool is a good goalkeeper.

My friends in Cheesemint outdid themselves this year in producing a hilarious, ambitious web-series in "Unlocked". I can't wait to see what they do in the future.

Hallowe'en is the best holiday. Drunk Hallowe'en is the besht holiday.

Finally got round to watching the rest of Breaking Bad this year after watching seasons one and two in fits and starts. After about midway through S2, watching the next episode became an obsession that kept me up way to late way too often. Cannot wait to see how Vince Gilligan and company end the series this year.

I stayed up until 7.30AM watching the election coverage, but, as a US politics nerd, it was totally worth it. Obama is a long way from perfect, but he's a hell of a lot better than Romney.

We rocked Thought Bubble pretty damn hard this year. As always, the mid-con party was the highlight, but sketches from Emma Rios and Kate Beaton, Kieron Gillen's "1000 Words" keynote speech and just the general atmosphere of the weekend were all wonderful.

As the year has gone on, we've been regularly dragging people back to ours to drink and sing impromptu karaoke via Rock Band 2. It's been a trend I approve of.

It ended up being Point Break.

And the first tweet of 2013?

Wise words, Drunk Tim. Wise words indeed.