Vinyl Album of the Week Project

New project! I have decided to listen to one album a week from my collection of vinyl.

This is quite a large project, as I have a lot of records (I realise this is relative; it's "only" 4-500, which some people would no doubt consider pretty restrained). They're mostly classical and mostly inherited from my grandparents, from both sides of my family. It's all been sitting in boxes and then cupboards since I got them, which is now several years ago.

I have this collection because no-one else seemed to want all these records, and it seemed a shame to just ditch it all. My grandparents were keen listeners to music. My dad's parents went to the Proms every year and in later years were stewards at the Barbican, enabling them to hear music and be paid for it! They also had a decent collection of records and had been members of a music appreciation society, where they would go around to each other's houses and listen to albums. In this era of music on demand, that seems archaic, but it's easy to forget that one album cost the same as a month's Spotify subscription. I know less about what my mother's parents enjoyed but since they had a larger collection, it seems only reasonable to assume it was also something they counted as a hobby. So all these records were presumably valuable to them and were listened to.

Anyway, as a result, I have what might charitably be called an eclectic collection, ranging from the fifties to the mid-eighties, covering all sorts of classical music, but also a little easy listening, American-songbook type albums and the occasional pop record (I did notice an original 1967 copy of Sgt. Pepper in there - excellent condition but not worth much because, of course, it sold millions!). 

They all now sit comfortably in a custom-built cupboard (not built for me, it was in the study when we bought the house), nestling alongside the vinyl I bought as a teenager, before I moved to CDs in about 1988.

I've been thinking about doing this for a while, but it was made slightly more difficult by the lack of a record player. Actually I did have one for a while, another inheritance from a grandparent, but it didn't work very well. It was a Technics, so potentially a decent turntable, but I think this one was actually just part of a whole system so probably at the cheaper end of the market - in about 1985. Anyway, each time I tried to use it, the sound cut out, so eventually I gave up and got rid of it.

However, a couple of weeks ago, prompted by a reorganisation of the study and the consolidation of all the vinyl into one cupboard, I decided to finally buy a proper turntable - the first I have ever bought, in fact. I didn't want anything fancy but did want something of a similar sort of quality as the rest of my hi-fi system. (Actually, most of my system is "starter" grade by the standards of serious aficionados ... but oh well. It sounds pretty decent to me.) I eventually plumped for the Pro-Ject Debut Carbon DC, which gets good reviews and comes with an upgraded Ortofon 2M Red cartridge (bought from Richer Sounds, superb service from them, by the way).

I've had it for a couple of weeks now, and I've been enjoying spinning the occasional disc. It's such a different experience from how I normally play music now, and it's fun to be reminded that this is how I listened to music for much of my formative years. But it's such a faff! I'm definitely not one who finds the ceremony of carefully extracting the record from its sleeve, placing it on the platter, cleaning it, locating the needle precisely, and finally lowering it, enhances the experience in any way. It's just tedious.

Nor do I think the music sounds better for the all-analogue signal path. I've A/B'd couple of albums now and while I can hear differences, I think it's much more to do with the mastering that the playback technology.

For example, ABBA's Arrival definitely sounds more "open" on vinyl than CD (actually, ripped to FLAC, fwiw), but the audio on CD sounds to me like it's been compressed to make it louder - which was a very 90s thing. On the other hand, I compared a recording of Haydn's Die Jahreszeiten on vinyl and via Spotify, and the streamed audio was slightly more detailed, although not by much. Indeed, one of the surprises to me was generally how good the vinyl sounds. I don't quite know why I was surprised by this, but I was.

But I am still going to do this, despite it being a faff, and despite there being no real difference in sound quality, and even despite finding that quite a few of the recordings are available on Spotify. It's not really the point. These albums belonged to my grandparents. They are literally irreplaceable. It's a way of connecting to them, and discovering a whole genre of music that I'm not very familiar with at the same time.

I don't have any structured way of selecting albums, since I don't actually know what I've got yet! I'm slowly adding to my collection on Discogs, and I will select each week from those I've already added to it. I'm giving each recording a week, because I know from experience that I have to live with unfamiliar music for a while so that it can sink in - and this applies double or triple to a genre like classical, which I don't really know at all.

The albums

1. Joseph Haydn: Die Jahreszeiten (The Seasons)
• Chorus & Academy of St Martin-In-The-Fields, conducted by Neville Mariner (Philips, 1981)
2. Franz Schubert: Rosamunde
• Netherlands Radio Chorus, Concertgebouw Orchestra Amsterdam, conducted by Bernard Haitink (Philips, 1965)
3. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Trio In E Flat Major (K.498); Quintet In A Major (K.581)
• Gervase de Peyer with members of the Melos Ensemble (His Master's Voice, 1964)
4. Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto No. 1 (Op. 64); Bruch: Violin Concerto No. 1 (Op. 26)
• Ruggiero Ricci With The London Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Pierino Gamba (Decca, 1958)
5. Russian Rarities: Glière, Stravinsky, Cui, Gretchaninov
• The London Symphony Orchestra and Osian Ellis (harp), Joan Sutherland (soprano), conducted by Richard Bonynge (Decca, year unknown)
6. Cherubini: Requiem
• New Philharmonia Orchestra with The Ambrosian Singers (directed by John McCarthy), conducted by Riccardo Muti (His Masters Voice, 1975)
7. Stravinsky: Petrouchka / The Firebird
• Chicago Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Carlo Maria Giulini (His Master's Voice, 1970)
8. Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Minor (Op. 37)
•  Scottish National Orchestra and John Lill (piano), conducted by Alexander Gibson (Classics For Pleasure, 1977)
9. Haydn: Symphonies No. 99 & 100 (Military)
• London Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Eugen Jochum (Deutsche Grammaphon, 1974)
10. Schubert: String Quartet No. 14 in D minor (Death and the Maiden)
• Amadeus Quartet (Deutsche Grammaphon, 1969)
11. Bruckner: Symphony No. 8
• Chicago Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Daniel Barenboim (Deutsche Grammophon, 1981)
12. The Best of Nat King Cole (Capitol Records, c1968)
13. Beethoven: Piano Music Volume 1
• Alfred Brendel (piano) (Turnabout)

Watching - August 2020

Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure (1989)

Saturday dinner time family viewing, mainly for K who hadn't seen it before. A classic, obviously: silly but fun, lots of great lines ("strange things are afoot at the Circle K") and nice and short.

The American President (1995)

In my mind, this goes with Dave, which we watched a couple of days ago. It's a superbly made film, touching, funny and realistic - at least, in the trivial respects. Aaron Sorkin wrote it, and it seems fairly obvious where his sympathies lie - with common sense, to anyone who's not a right-wing, gun-fetishising nutjob. Sadly, watching this only points up the sorry state of affairs in US politics right now, which makes this film something of a fantasy - but I think it always was, really. Sorkin went on to create The West Wing, which also starred Martin Sheen, and Michael J. Fox's next project was Spin City, so this film was pretty influential, I think.

Moneyball (2011)

I haven't read the source book, although I mean to, as Michael Lewis's other books are really interesting. Since this is a dramatisation of a true story - the Oakland Athletics baseball team's 2002 season - I'm guessing it's pretty true-to-life. I didn't understand the baseball scenes at all, but as with Remember The Titans, it doesn't really matter, I still enjoyed it. Maybe I should watch some films about more English sport to balance things out though!

Groundhog Day (1993)

K was the only one of the kids who hadn't seen this, for some reason, so that needed to be rectified. Pleasingly, it managed to foil even her usually unerring ability to predict what would happen. I can remember C and I going to see this, in Harrow, when it came out, and it's still great. The fact that I can recite most of the lines doesn't spoil it at all (well, not for me, possibly this isn't true for anyone watching it with me).

The Holiday (2006)

High-grade, star-studded schmaltz. Pulls all the right heart strings, but as predictable as getting wet in rain. Maybe I am prejudiced but the British actors are superb (special mention for Rufus Sewell as a smarmy, two-timing cheat), while the US actors play things a little by numbers, particularly Jack Black who is mis-cast (or at least should have been told to act and stop playing Jack Black), although Eli Wallach is very good. Overall, a nice piece of fluff which I had seen before but didn't mind watching again.

The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement (2004)

Family choice while eating pizza. Not the most amazing film ever, but undeserving of "near-universal critical disdain" (according to Wikipedia) - it's perfectly nice, and the presence of Julie Andrews and Anne Hathaway make it very watchable.

Jumanji: The Next Level  (2019)

We started watching the first (second? I mean the remake of) Jumanji but I didn't finish it, for various reasons, until after we'd watched this. As a sequel, it has enough different to make it worth watching, while keeping the same enjoyable formula. Yes, it's a bit too similar to the first one in places, but if I'm honest, the main difference (that the avatars are inhabited by different people) felt a bit odd in some way, and I wished that they were all the same people as before - something the makers clearly realised, as they had them all swap back half way through. All good fun though and a great family film (although B & K bailed half way through for some reason).

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017)

Any film with Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson in it isn't usually on our radar, but we took a chance on this anyway, and just as well - we really enjoyed it. I haven't seen the original Jumanji, so I don't know how it compares, but the ideas here are good and handled well, and the actors look like they're having fun being avatars with other people's personalities inside them. There's plenty of action, lessons are learned and there are some very sweet moments too (I'm a sucker for a little sentimentality). And in fairness to Mr The Rock, he's very good.

10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

Superb, quick-witted and fun teen romcom. Played for K, since I knew she would like it.

Le Mans '66 (2019)

Really enjoyable drama about the Ford GT40 win in '66, and the people who made. I knew some of the story (enough to know this film is something of a simplification), but hadn't appreciated the amount Ken Miles contributed to the design and engineering. Christian Bale is superb as Miles, and the driving scenes, while a bit fake, are wonderfully staged and a great opportunity to spot old classics.

Reading - August 2020

Maskerade by Terry Pratchett (1995)

Most of my copies of Discworld novels are secondhand. This one cost all of £1.49 - excellent value. This story is basically a whodunnit, with lots of jolly good fun and amusing nods to musical theatre (The Phantom of the Opera in particular of course, even down to referencing Michael Crawford obliquely). Read it in afternoon waiting for C at a hospital check up. I enjoyed it more this time than last time, for some reason.

 The Look of the Century by Michael Tambini (1996)

Despite owning this book for over twenty years, I don't think I have ever read it in full before. (Actually, if I'm being honest, I still haven't, as I skipped the A-Z of designers at the end). It's a look at design through the twentieth century, a big, glossy book full of pictures of arresting furniture, clothes, packaging, electronics, toothbrushes - you name it, it's probably here! - through the years. It's difficult to read, both because it's quite heavy and because it's very bitty. There's lots of interest here for the casual observer (i.e. me), although some of the text is a bit erratic and in a couple of cases I spotted inaccuracies which makes me wonder about the validity of all of it. It's also interesting to note that while Tambini can summarise each decade, he several times states that the 90s was impossible to summarise. This strikes me as a facet of being in the middle of changing times; twenty years later, I'm sure the 90s can be summarised.

White Picket Fences by Tara Taylor Quinn (2000)

Third, fourth or possibly fifth time around, and this still moves me. I'm such a soppy old thing sometimes.

The Guitar Magazine (Sept 2020 / Issue 384)

Plenty of interesting music profiled this month, and a nostalgic trip down Denmark Street. I never bought a guitar there (although I did buy a Strat in nearby Soho Soundhouse once) but I've been going there since I was a teenager and ogling the vintage instruments, and even occasionally buying a knick-knack or two. It's kind of sad to see it now.

Thank You For The Days by Mark Radcliffe (2009)

As he says, not an autobiography, but a selection of notable or interesting moments in his life. And it's not just a collection of celeb encounters (although there are a few, of course), but includes scenes from his childhood too. Entertaining and interesting, and I find his style of self-deprecation amusing rather than unconvincing. Nice bedtime reading due to its episodic nature.

She Did A Bad, Bad Thing by Stephanie Bond (2007)

Boilerplate romance: studly, alpha male and a shy, unassuming woman who comes out of her shell. Predictable but nice enough. (Side note: I borrowed this as an e-book from the library and read it on my Kobo, now returned by my mum who never used it, as far as I can tell! Very convenient.)

Wham! George & Me by Andrew Ridgeley (2019)

Interesting, if un-engaging, history from The Other One.

Wham! George & Me

Andrew Ridgeley

2019

Wham! were a part of my teens by default really; despite the fact that I was never that bothered about their music, it's an indelible part of my history. (And in fairness, it's grown on me and I can get quite into "The Edge Of Heaven".) The fact that they grew up not that far from me wasn't something I knew at the time, although it's quite fun to see the familiar landmarks in the early pages of this book.

I suppose they're now increasingly known as the band that George Michael was in before he became a global superstar, but he's gone and this is their story, by The Other One. Andrew Ridgeley sometimes gets an unfair amount of stick for being a passenger - and given his achievements since Wham!, you might even consider that epithet justified. But really, anyone who has the sense to walk away from celebrity strikes me as a much more balanced individual than someone who carries on, continually trying to prove something. He had about five years in the limelight and then more than thirty years of probably very comfortable living off the back of it. That's a deal I'd take.

It's still a bit of a puzzle what Ridgeley actually did in Wham! He was the driving force behind originally getting a band together, he says, and he had a hand in some of the early songs (apparently he still earns a handsome amount from the sales of Careless Whisper every year), but by his own admission, he handed the creative reins to Michael fairly soon into Wham!'s short life. But again, you could regard this as the action of a normal person. With what seems like a lot less ego to satisfy than most "stars", he says he could see how good George Michael was becoming, and was happy to take second place to him.

That said, Andrew Ridgeley obviously has enough of an ego to want to finally put his side of the story, and I was interested enough to read about it - in fact, I got through it in a couple of days. But although it's easy to read, the book is curiously un-engaging. It seems obvious to me that it's been ghost-written (even though there's no other credit), as the writing has a bland, practised, tabloid-esque glibness that obscures any sense of the real person, which is a shame.

What does come across is the story of an ordinary, normally talented teenager who was lucky enough to be best friends with the boy who became George Michael, and who got to live that life for a few years, and then went happily back to semi-obscurity. Good for him, I say.

Watching - July 2020

I've been keeping track of what I've read for over ten years now, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to me to do the same for what I watch. Maybe it's because a film doesn't require the same time commitment, or maybe it's because I don't see myself as a particularly discerning watcher. But we've been watching a lot recently so I thought it worth noting down. Maybe I'll carry on, maybe there'll be months with nothing to say. 

The Notebook (2004)

I didn't know anything about this when I discovered it on the book exchange shelves at work, but apparently it's a bit of a cult hit (K tells me anyway). Then I enjoyed Ryan Gosling in Crazy Stupid Love recently, so thought I'd give this a go - and I always enjoy a good romance. I might be tempted to class it as superior TV movie fare; it's a bit syrupy and goes for the emotions a bit too obviously, and the "twist" was fairly apparent. But it brought tears to my eyes anyway and I enjoyed it.

My Cousin Vinny (1992)

At the half term we got a free week of Sky Cinema (via Now TV), which I then forgot to cancel, and then when I did go to cancel it, we got a discounted offer for three months. So I'm watching things I probably wouldn't have otherwise. Although I'd heard of this, I didn't know what it was about and if I am honest, it caught my attention at least in part because it's got Marisa Tomei in it (who is coincidentally also in Crazy Stupid Love), who does a fantastic job as a sassy Noo Yoik gal. Enjoyable and funny, if slightly predictable.

Lady And The Tramp (1955)

We're working our way through some lesser Disney films for some reason. I think we've had this for a while but never watched it. Slight, sweet and dated, although as ever, you can't fault the animation. My favourite bit is Peggy Lee singing (as the Pekingese Peg) "He's A Tramp". The less said about the Siamese cats (also voiced by Lee) the better.

Field Of Dreams (1989)

I watched this a long time ago and didn't really follow it (at least, as far as I remember). Watching it again, despite knowing nothing and caring less about baseball, I enjoyed it. The mystical elements make no sense and there is no attempt to explain them, which I quite like. It's not a film about baseball, it seems to me, but about the power of sport to give meaning to people's lives. In atmosphere, it reminds me very strongly of Chariots Of Fire, which is no bad thing.

The Aristocats (1970)

A kind of cat-based Lady And The Tramp, which I was surprised to find was made as late as 1970. Amusing, and the child cats are very cute. I guess it would be carping to point out that the jazz being played by Scat Cat and his friends is at least twenty years too early for the film's 1910 setting?

Remember The Titans (2000)

C heard about this during the "Fake Doctors, Real Friends" podcast that Zach Braff and Donald Faison are doing (rewatching all of Scrubs and chatting about it). It was a running joke that Zach had never watched this film, despite his best friend being in it. A drama about race in Virginia and the bonding power of sports is not something we would ever have chosen for ourselves otherwise and the (American) football scenes are mostly a mystery to us, but we still enjoyed it. The expected shift from outright hostility between the different communities, to complete acceptance is unrealistically quick - but it's a Disney film, so a happy ending was assured. Very enjoyable.

Scrubs: Season 8 (2009)

For some reason, our collection of Scrubs only goes up to season 7, so it was good to find that All4 currently includes all Scrubs seasons. I actually watched this with B & K last month, but rewatched it with C this month. Before that it had been a while since I last seen Scrubs, so it was good to see everyone again. JD is a bit too goofy and the bromance between him and Turk is over-played, but  I was pleased (spoiler alert) that JD and Elliott finally got together, and the finale is genuinely touching. Shame they went and spoiled it with season 9 (don't bother).

Frost/Nixon (2008)

On the face of it, a story about a set of interviews - even ones as historic as these - isn't promising material for a film, but I found this fascinating. Michael Sheen is decent enough as Frost (even though I think he impersonates Tony Blair much better; the smile/not-smile he does all the time suits the former PM better), but Frank Langella is superb as Nixon. I'd never seen the real interviews themselves (I have now), but it's interesting to compare the film with Clive James's reviews of them at the time: he was unimpressed by the programme focusing on Watergate (which was recorded last but broadcast first), whereas in the film it's presented as a triumph for Frost after the "failures" of previous interviews. On the other hand, James found the earlier interviews worthwhile. So clearly some dramatic license has been taken. Still, a very enjoyable film.

Emma (2009)

I'm not sure who identified the glorious anachronism at the heart of Titanic, which was to take a film on which huge amounts of effort and money had been spent in order to achieve period-correctness - and then drop two late-90s teenagers into it as Jack and Rose. But it feels like the same was attempted with this BBC version of Emma. Everyone around Emma walks and talks like you'd expect from a Jane Austen drama, while Romala Garai has what looks like great fun basically pretending she's Cher in Clueless (still the best adaptation of the novel, by the way). Perhaps the intention was to make 18th century people seem more real, rather than robots - and perhaps my expectations have been skewed by previous dramatisations - but Garai comes across as vacuous rather than intelligent and there was too much that was jarring for this to be properly enjoyable. The story holds up, of course, but only just.

Some Kind Of Wonderful (1987)

This is perhaps a lesser-known John Hughes film, certainly not on the same level of reknown as, say, The Breakfast Club or Pretty In Pink. However, I think it's better. Certainly the ending is more satisfying that the latter film, although overall it's a very similar plot. Mary Stuart Masterson is fantastic in it and, believe it or not, the first time I watched this, I didn't realise (spoiler alert) that she was in love with Eric Stoltz's character until right at the end. K, with whom I was very pleased to be able to share this, couldn't have been more disbelieving of my stupidity, but she enjoyed the film and that was good.

The Parent Trap (1998)

Searching on NowTV for something to watch with Z, we came across this. Not the obvious choice for a boy his age, but he enjoyed it, and why not - it's a well-made family film, with laughs, drama and some sentimentality, and it ends happily. I've seen it twice this year now (possibly I watched it with K, not sure) but I still like it. 

Inception (2010)

For some reason this has taken us ages to get round to watching, particularly given that I've had the DVD for almost two years and B has been nagging me about it for months (although he's been very patient really and waited so we could watch it together!). Anyway, we finally got round to it, split over three evenings, and very good it was too. As Mark Kermode pointed out, it's basically a heist movie, but a very well executed one. B and I were on tenterhooks towards the end (although K seemed very relaxed!) even though it was clear they would make it.

Dave (1993)

I've always really liked this film; it's very sweet and good-natured, while making a few good points about politics. And despite being twenty-seven years old, it hasn't dated. That helped when we watched this with B & K, who both enjoyed it a lot. K guessed the ending in about five seconds flat again - she's obviously watched way too many films!

Reading - July 2020

Glued To The Box by Clive James (1983)

More TV reviews, this time from a period I can somewhat remember (1979-1982). As before, it's witty, learned and pithy - although the book's introduction has less pith than the columns, as it clocks in at about twenty-five pages. Some of the reviews could be from any time in the last forty years, as little has changed in some respects. He describes an episode of Panorama, in which the interviewer "strove heroically to pin the Leader of the Opposition down with specific questions, but it was like trying to drive a nail through a blob of mercury." If you didn't know otherwise, this could serve as a description of many such encounters with Jeremy Corbyn, rather than from an interview with Michael Foot, which is what it is.

I own this book, along with the two previous Clive James collections, in one volume, which cost me 70p from Oxfam and counts as one of the best value purchases I have ever made.

Watching The English by Kate Fox (2014)

There are two books I am constantly recommending to people. One is Adventures In The Screen Trade and the other is Watching The English. I picked this revised edition up in Cambridge while waiting for B, mainly because I seemed to have lost my original copy (my mum has it, I found out last week). It's still spot-on about English behaviour, of course, and very entertaining, but this time I found myself wishing it was slightly shorter and less repetitive. I also wish Fox wouldn't be so apologetic and self-deprecating; OK, I get it, those are defining English characteristics and it makes the point, but it seems out of place in a book, even though it wouldn't in conversation.

Guitar Magazine (August 2020 / Issue 383)

A Walk In The Woods by Bill Bryson (1997)

It's very unclear why Bryson suddenly decided to walk the Appalachian Trail; his previous travel doesn't really stretch to strenuous and it's a massive undertaking at over 2000 miles. However, the issues brought up are consistent with his concerns about environmental impact and so perhaps it was a way of highlighting these. It's amusing and light, as eminently readable as ever, and not too long (some of his later books could do with a bit more editing).

Don't Make Me Think (Revisited) by Steve Krug (2014)

B asked me a while back if I could recommend any good guides to user interface design. I in turn asked Tom, one of our designers at work, and he told me about this. It's not about UI design, it's about usability - possibly of more importance to someone who's more on the implementation side of things anyway. B bought it and lent it to me. It's great. It's nothing I haven't seen before - I remember reading all the Jakob Nielsen articles when I was first doing web sites back in the late 90s - but it's well-written and wonderfully concise. The focus on easy, informal usability testing is particularly important (Joel Spolsky said the same thing back in 2000). Basically, everyone should read it.

The Life And Times Of The Thunderbolt Kid by Bill Bryson (2006)

A good writer can make just about anything entertaining, and so it is here. Bill Bryson's early life was unexceptional in most ways, but that doesn't matter because he can evoke the period so well. In this case it is Des Moines, Iowa in the fifties - classic small town US (although Des Moines was and is a city) - and Bryson portrays it with affection and nostalgia. It reminds me of Clive James' Unreliable Memoirs, another superb autobiography in which, on the face of it, little happens, but in fact is made involving by the sheer quality of the writing.

Reading - June 2020

At Home by Bill Bryson (2010)

Billed as "A Short History of Private Life", this is neither short nor a history, really, but rather a way of combining various bits of information around a loose theme. The connecting thread is the rooms of a house, but too many of the items under discussion only relate very tangentially to the room in question. For example, the chapter on the nursery prompts a lot of information about the lot of the child in Victorian times, but nothing about why the nursery has its features; say, where cots came from. Always interesting but a bit random. And too long.

Visions Before Midnight by Clive James (1977)

This was my introduction to Clive James, age 18 - only ten years after the book was published. How long ago it seems now! I loved it then and love it now. James is incredibly well-read, frighteningly well-informed and very funny. He does occasionally come across as if he feel he knows better than everyone else, albeit with some justification in most cases, but I can put up with that. That all this wisdom can be contained with a collection of TV criticism still surprises people, as it no doubt did at the time, but that's both a reflection of British TV's breadth as well as that of his knowledge.

Guitar Magazine (July 2020 / Issue 382)

A review of various Filter-trons, which sound interesting - but given that I'm about to get my first set of P90s back in a guitar soon, I should play those a while before wondering about another pickup type!

The Crystal Bucket by Clive James (1981)

More amusing vignettes on the subject of whatever was on telly that week. The only thing that grates slightly is the occasional bout of casual sexism and racism, which, while entirely unexceptional at the time, would not be considered acceptable now. James made his name on TV with programmes making fun of foreigners, so it's not surprising to see it here, but it spoils the book slightly.