The Language of Sound

Please

accept my apologies if you find my chitter this week is not up to my usual chatter standards but I'm trying to juggle too many brain cells all at once. In case you didn't know (and why should you?) I've bought a jazzy wee media streamer box doodah for sitting under the telly. It connects to the net and offers various on line jollities like the BBC's I Player, Youtube, Facebook etc, etc, etc. It's other trick is that you can connect hard drives to it and it streams stuff to the telly, so I've been ripping my Dvd collection ( I don't have that many really) to a very nice 3 Tb drive. Last nights count stood at 352 disks ripped to the drive with around too many still to go. Even as I type these sage words my dvd drive and hard drive are passing various 1's and 0's around as they try to make a movie between them. Whilst doing this Dvd thing, it's come to my attention that I do like my zombie films, oh and horror in general. Another thing, how many Shirley Valentines does one man need?

I can't move on to the "What's On" without first mentioning the weather. What the Hell does it think it's playing at? It's been so poor that I was thinking that we'll need to invent a fifth season. Winting or Sprinter would be my suggestions for a name if anyone decides to make it official. If we could compare the vagaries in the weather over the last few days to literature, then Heathcliffe would be out in the snow on his way to Penniston Crag to see poor foolish, vain, dead Cathy, Wordsworth would have written "I wandered in the company of these big storm clouds, That float o'or hills and dead crops, When all at once I came upon, A host of wee white snowdrops", and we would need a big scary lion to fight off the Snow Queen. Wait a minute, I'm a Leo... Is this my destiny, is that why I have that sword, am I the saviour of the Earth. So to battle then, sword, check. Flamethrower, check. Sunscreen and sunglasses in case I win, check. If you see the sun and I'm not back next week then I may have had to make the ultimate sacrifice and pay that highest of price. Please come and find my body, bathe me in oils and bury me with honour, high on a hill overlooking the moors...

I can tell you what the Language of Sound has in store for you this week but only if you want. You do? Oh goodie. I thought for a moment that you didn't really care about the lavish entertainments that we, the owners, provide for you, our dear dear listeners, on a weekly basis. I'm so glad you proved me wrong..

Monday brings another Fly's Open with the Founding Father of the LoS, the one and only Mr Fly. As I'm wrapped up in several jumpers, a scarf, a hat and some earmuffs to ward out the cold, I'm a little hard of hearing so I'm not sure if Mr Fly said that this weeks show was going to be a Jazz special or a Jazz Mag special. I know that both hold their own attractions to different sections of our demographic but if I could offer a preference, I would like to see some of those little pink semi quavers dancing over the top of some big juicy paradiddles.. Nice.....

Wednesday and the highest of High Wires with the silver tongued Mr IPT. I told him that that wee tube of paint would burst but he just kept on sooking it and so he'll just have to wait till it wears off now. You would think that after recent circus style events (see last weeks outpourings) he would have given up playing with paint but alas..
Joining our beholder of the argentated appendage this week will be some of the least well known celebrities that Britains Got Talent has cast aside but still somehow manage to scrape a living from the bottom of the barrel put aside for those classed as Z Listers. If you read Hello magazine you'll know who I'm talking about but lets just say that if you have a sparkly pot and can speak in a Dalek voice, you'll be more than welcome to join your hero right here on Wednesday evening. What other radio station offers so much glamour to so few people?.. I think you'll find the answer is none. Only the LoS and Mr IPT... We also do a fair line in music if your ears feel like joining you..

P.S. Due to a world shortage there will be no P.S.'s this week. We hope that this will be resolved as soon as some P.S.'s become available but our supplier has told us not to hold our breath 

Last Updated on Monday, 14 May 2012 10:07 Written by The Lion King Monday, 14 May 2012 09:26

I'm

on holiday. Well, I know you think I'm on holiday most of the time but that it is just not true. Ok, me and the man are bygone aquaintances but that doesn't mean that I do nothing but sit here and type childish blabber at a computer screen. I have stuff to do just like everyone else, my priorities may differ but that doesn't make them any the less. This is why I look forward to my wee holidays just like the rest of you and today is no exception, so I've decided that instead of putting you through the usual Monday quagmire of disjointed thought and memory, I'd give you the Monday off too. Not only that but I'm even going to supply some entertainment to help kick start your pleasure, so get comfy in your chair, click the wee play button in the file below as you close your eyes and sit back and enjoy. Please remember that someone had to work to bring this joy to your ears...



Did you enjoy that? I hope so because I've decided that it's time to finally do my Reggae, Ska with maybe a Punk interlude special. It's been burning a hole in my thoughts for some time, so sooner rather than later I'll do it..

So, what's on the LoS this week? Well, I suppose you could say the usual but that would be doing a disservice to those that bring you your Bi Nightly felicity. First up, of course is..

Monday and Fly's Open with the Springburn Stallion, Mr Fly. When I say he's a stallion it's not because everyone rides him, it's because of the free spirit that lives in his soul and each week he exposes a little of that to the netwaves as he brings us all his mix of madness and music. Which is best? The madness or the music. There's only one way to find out and that's by tuning your ears to the LoS between the hours of 19:00 - 21:00 BST, or we could maybe.... Fight...

Wednesday. High Wire with the still jubilant Mr Ian Part Time. After last weeks half time shennanigans when, under the influence of too much milk, IPT painted his legs and boaby red and white, this weeks show starts off with a demonstration of why it's not advisable to don a Sherlock hat, dip your bits in turpentine and then smoke a pipe. Joining Mr PT in this psychopathy will be Bill and Janice, the paramedics who will be wound treating, John and Herbert, the firemen who will be dowsing the flames and Francois et Nicolas from the Cirque De Soleil who will be trying to poach IPT so that he can perform his burning legs show twice nightly in the glamour parlour that is Las Vegas. Amongst the chaos there will be one or two of the best of tunes, one or two tunes even better than that and a whole heap of tuneage taken from the Gods' I-Pods. If you miss that you'll miss anything and don't deserve to have ears..

P.S. Remember that the holiday is for one day only, Monday, and come Tuesday normal workage should resume, unless you have a note from your dog.

Last Updated on Monday, 07 May 2012 10:11 Written by Holiday Harry Monday, 07 May 2012 09:36

It

works then. Just ask the Los's very own Mr IPT. There he was, bedecked in his ruby red slippers, just before lunchtime on Saturday, clicking his heels together and saying "There's no place like the Premier League".. 3 clicks and three wishes later and Southampton F.C, who in recent weeks seemed to be in meltdown, were once again taking their place at the top table of English football. So, it's a big hearty LoS congratulations to IPT and we'd like to say enjoy the moment before the inevitable "You're going down" chants begin. Football, it's a funky old game..

Whilst I'm talking football and before I move on to the more meaningful things in life, can I just say I think it's time that the police started investigating the shennanigans that have been going on at Ibrox Park. The fans of this once proud club have been humiliated in recent weeks as revelation after revelation of greed, corruption and downright bad management have come to light dating as far back, it seems, to 1986. It's time the correct steps are taken to punish the true guilty parties and allow the club to start rebuilding under new ownership..

Real life then. I had a visit last week from that other intrepid FJ of the Los, Mr Fly. He came, he ate, he slept, he left but he did manage to get his camera out (that is not to be read as a fnaar fnaaar moment) and took some pictures of horses, sheep and trees. I think he may even have taken a couple of the wonderful me holding a big dod of wood (again, not a fnaar fnaar moment, a real dod of wood) as we scouted out my wood collection for the coming Winter. I say coming Winter but as we pressed on along the road towards Castle Douglas it felt like the last Winter still hasn't gone away yet, chittery chittery as the wind blew in along the valleys.
During my recent weeks of incapacity Mrs V has been valiantly pushing on with the planting and the digging in the garden. She's doing wonderfully well and seems to be pretty much on schedule for getting everything into it's right place at the right time so that this years pickling and chutney fest (Still not a fnaar fnaar, behave) will be better than last years. It was only when I stuck my recovering nose in that a slight blip on the horizon appeared. She asked me about a boggy bit near the bottom of the garden as she had found a buried slab. I thought it may have been the cover for a bit of drainage pipe that the previous owner of the house had mentioned needed the occasional rodding (you're fnaar fnaars are still not welcome) and I lifted it in anticipation of finding an access port to a drain pipe. Nope. We did find another two slabs lying diagonally from the first and after a quick bit of digging, an underground stream. Oh, bloody great. Now I'm going to have to dig a bloody big hole and a bloody big trench, lay some drainage and hope that the stream (which is now a small pond) finds it's way out to the bottom field. I'm not built for this, I'm not built for this. I was built for skill, not navvying...

It may have have escaped your attention that my posts on the LoS have been erratic over the past while and I do hope that my arbitrary behaviour can be forgiven and I will try harder to get back to the normality that you, my fellow autistic chums, deserve. So, before I go, just let me tell you what to expect if you tune in to the wonderful Language of Sound..

Monday. It's covers night on Fly's Open as Mr Fly, fresh from his first day at another new job, brings forth his sometime show of the best and the worst of the cover song. He doesn't intend to play the worst covers but as this world is an each to there own kind of place, sometimes little accidents do happen and heated debates ensue. You can join in the fun if you tune your PC in at the appointed time and allow your ears to accept outside stimulli..

Wednesday, and once more it's a regular High Wire night with the indomnitable spirit that is Mr IPT. Beware that IPT may still be under the influence of Southamptons historic achievement and this weeks show could be crammed full of "He's Football Crazy" type songs. Rumour has it that one of this weeks guests will be none other than Sir Cliff himself who will be reprising his 1968, second placed eurovision hit, "Congratulations" although any inference that Freddy Mercury will be rising from the dead to give us a version of "We are the runners up" is merely that. An inference, and in no way should be construed as the truth. There may also be other music and if we're really lucky, some other guests. What and who they will be is a mystery but if history is anything to go by, then it will be a cracking show as usual..

P.S. Went to the crockery shop yesterday and there was a lady with a cracking pair of jugs. (fnaar fnaar away cos I'm not talking about Toby's)..

P.P.S. Any and all shows have a starting time of 19:00 BSt and will continue until the 21:00 news.

Last Updated on Monday, 30 April 2012 09:15 Written by Mark Spitz Monday, 30 April 2012 09:06

Cough,

cough, splutter, splutter. Hot flushes, cold sweats, fever filled days and nights, gasping for breath that wouldn't come left me panting like a dog trying to breath underwater. Compound this with a torn muscle in my back that threw pain into my every fibre with every rasped breath and you'll have some idea of the fun I've had for the last two weeks. Did I mention the toothache which decided to throw it's hat into the ring of my misery, there's nothing like giving a man a good kicking when he's down. I've done my twenty rounds with Tyson now bloody well leave me alone.
Am I better? No. Am I getting better? Somewhat. I can breath again (nearly) and the feverish sweating has receded, which is nice. The torn muscle is on it's way to being an untorn muscle and the toothache has been dealt with, in an albeit, temporary fashion. I seem to have been plagued like this for the last few months, although this last bout was definitely the worst so far. I'm even thinking about registering with a doctor this time so things must have been bad.

So what happened in the world of the LoS when I was away? Nothing? There must have been something, no? Oh well, maybe I am the life and soul of the party and tonight I may even be able to tentatively lead you all back to the world of the good times because it's...

Monday

and that means Fly's Open. This week Mr Fly is opening the phone lines in a vainglorious attempt to become the LoS's answer to Claire Rayner. I have tried to tell him that donning a grey wig, a fat suit and occasionally saying "Yes my lovie" won't cut it and if he wants to make this a regular feature then he must give out sound advice. So, if you have any problems be they financial, health or preferably, weird sexual practices then do feel free to give Aunty Fly a call. All calls will cost a tenner a minute but this is a small price to pay for reassurance over that weeping wart, that third testicle or the financial ruin you face because you've become addicted to phoning the LoS helpline. All callers will almost certainly have a song dedicated to them, some will also be asked to sign Direct Debit agreements. This is normal practice and will assist us in emptying your bank accounts...

Wednesday

should usually mean it's High Wire night with the dulcet tones of our resident Mr Suave of So'ton.. Ian Part Time. I say should be but as I've been away I'm not sure of anything anymore. If there is a High wire then you can Rest Assured (a nice comfy mattress, (we're looking for sponsorship) that the said High Wire will be of equal quality as the last High Wire and may even, if circumstances allow, be a little better. Of course, this betterness may only be incremental and may not be noticeable under normal listening conditions. If this is the case then the betterness may only be gauged by holding your nose whilst tapping your knee with a hammer. Any little flicking movements of your leg should be used as a guide to the betterness, the wilder the flicks the better the betterness.
I can also say that the same method can be used to judge whether the music played on the LoS is of equal quality or better than the music that is normally played on commercial radio stations. If you do decide to use this "hold your nose whilst hammering away at your knee" method to judge the music then the LoS can take no responsiblity for any broken furniture caused by your wild leg swings when it becomes clear to you who plays the best sounds.
In the unlikely event that there will be no High wire, I'm sure a substitute will be found although, we cannot promise that you'll kick the cat with much force...


P.S. Cough, cough, splutter, splutter, wheeze, wheeze. That's me that is..      

Last Updated on Monday, 16 April 2012 09:47 Written by Punchbag Pete Monday, 16 April 2012 09:38