By TV Will
Right, first off, I really hate it when people, namely students, bang on about programmes they used to watch when they were young. The top three offending programmes are as follows: Super Ted. Danger Mouse and the Magic Roundabout.
The type of conversation you are likely to over hear in the corridors of Talybont South may go as follows: “Man, you remember Superted? He was like a teddy bear but he also saved the universe. Mental.” Or perhaps even the hilarious drugs observation: “Dylan…what was all that about, he was such a stoner”. SHUT UP.
However today I am going to be a slight hypocrite and talk about a contemporary kids programme, one which is odder than the whole lot of them put together. Welcome to the wonderful and frightening world of Lazy Town. If you haven’t yet been graced by this latest phenomenon it is a children’s TV programme, half-puppets and half-real actors, set in the primary-coloured comic book Lazy Town.
It is the brainchild of Magnus Scheving, Icelandic athlete, established writer and all-round mento. He set out with the aim to make children more active and decide the best way to do it was with a TV programme. Mmm… maybe. Either way it is very odd. He plays the character Sportacus, an athlete who aims to get the population of Lazy Town active again, from its frumpy mayor to six-year-old children. And before you think it, no, there’s no paedophilic undertones.
Although, come to think of it, Sportacus is a bit like the Fonz; he hangs around with kids half his age and…oh no, that’s it actually.
For some reason the unpalatable Robbie Rotten, who is played like a dark Jim Carrey, circa Ace Ventura, is endlessly trying to foil his plans for an active population. Firstly what is very strange is that there is never a back-story given as to why Robbie would want to jeopardise the occupants of Lazy Town for seemingly no gain. I find it hard to associate with a character so needlessly evil to the sweet little children of the village. I think the most likely reason for this is that he had a father who had been an aspiring 100m runner but due to a series of unfortunate injuries his career came to an end. He never lived up to the high aspirations that everyone had for him. As a result he transferred all his athletic hopes and dreams onto his academic son, who although a fine mathematician was not a sportsman. This resulted in them having a very strained relationship until finally, unable live up to his fathers athletic aspirations, he ran away from Busy City to Lazy Town.
The characters in the show also sporadically break into song, the lyrics of which always relate to the plot in the show, which inevitably relates to sport and exercise and generally wholesome things. This week the song sung by Robbie Rotten sounded almost identical to the first track on Tom Wait’s seminal record Rain Dogs.
This was odd. I doubt there is a link between the two. Perhaps Tom Waits is the genius behind the show, subtly indoctrinating children with his unique brand of alcohol soaked, cancerous alt country. Need I say this would be far from healthy. Never trust a man who pursues a singing career after a laryngectomy.
Eeeeeeeeeeel
This must have been the Kaiser Chiefs attempt at irony, because, even for them, it’s really bland and ‘average.’ However, I am going to like this single to annoy all the trendy scenesters with leggings and haircuts from faux-Japanese hairdressers who regard them as ‘uncool.’ Because I hate them more.
(or how to have a good study break date)
Racist
Nick leans on the bar, pint in hand; his head nodding slightly to the music. His face is masked by long, greasy strands of hair, (he tells people that he hasn’t had it cut in over a year with a sense of pride). At last the headlining band come on stage, and Nick downs his pint and lurches forward into the crowd.
Talkin’ bout the big monkey man
Why are you so shit?’ Another Gindrinker concert, another moron not quite getting it. To be fair, it’s not hard to see why, screeched vocals about Bullseye and guitar rape in abundance does not a happy emo crowd make.
Continuing our look at books from around the world, this week Books goes down under to explore the best of Australasia
Jangly, mesmerising future folk guitar that undulates from the Cardiff-based pseudo-scientists specialising in lyrical one-liners. Complemented with soft touches of synthesiser that really does transport you into other galactic realms. Not necessarily the most memorable of twee-pop nuggets but certainly an intriguing listen with its optimistic layered vocals cooing.
Upbeat and commercial, so unlikely to be popular with students. But thedistinctive sound of Levine’s voice makes a welcome comeback; he is, after all, the best thing since sliced bread.