Bright Light City

Bags: packed. Tickets, money, passport: check. 09:00 flight to Las Vegas: confirmed. Fat wads of cash, beautiful women, 24-hour rum bars and total neon excesses all within imminent grasp, yet there is important work still to be done. The soundtrack must be compiled.

There is going to Las Vegas, and then there is doing Las Vegas in style. Anyone of similar mentality, of multiple persuasions and A.D.D. zig-zagging passions, with too much Hunter Thompson on the brain and too many viewings of Swingers, will understand this notion. A trip should go with the flow, however an Atmosphere should still be created - as imperative as betting on black and always doubling-down on 11.

Track 1, Side 1: 'Viva Las Vegas' - Elvis Presley. Just because. It's where everything started. Throw on some Tom Jones and some Rolling Stones, straight off the Fear & Loathing soundtrack. No sympathy for the devil, after all. A spot of Grand Funk, some real funk, Sly Stone, Three Dog Night and some Dylan. 'Awww, mama, can this really be the end.....'

But this is the modern-day equivalent, still aiming to be "a gross, physical salute to the possibilities of life," but with much more bass. Volume, clarity, bass.....and an iPod docking station in the suite. It is no longer Frank Sinatra's town, Rat Pack territory. But nor will I accept that Celine Dion and Donny Osmond are running the show. So which way to turn - what would Horatio Alger do?

Drop some Ol' Dirty Bastard. Track 1, Side 2: 'Shimmy Shimmy Ya', followed up closely with Kanye's '808s', some UNKLE-remixed Ian Brown, Mark Ronson, some Dap Kings or Soul Investigators. And save The Avalanches for the morning, an alarm clock of samples to force the wounded and the weary into the scarcely-seen daylight hours. The patio section of the Flamingo, of course, to drink Singapore Slings with gatorade on the side.

A classic affirmation of everything right and true and decent. In £25 suits, eating 39-cent hotdogs, approaching 21-year old Bunnies. Leering and Foaming in Las Vegas, a Gonzo attempt for this foul year of Our Lord, 2009. Just a few more Freaks trying to find the Freak Kingdom.

Offer Me Protection

It was interesting recently to read a chart compiled by BBC Radio 2, which suggested that Procul Harum's 'A Whiter Shade of Pale' was the most-played song in public places of the last 75 years. It is undeniably a great song, containing both a lyrical ambiguity (everything from dancing the fandango to Chaucer's Canterbury Tales) and an instantly recognisable lead organ riff, which, combined, acted as a commercial breakthrough for the emerging sound of British psychdelia in 1967.

There are other interesting elements to the chart also. Somehow, no song by the Beatles features in the Top-10 - although a multitude of explanations could account for this, from copyright laws to royalty payments etc. Of the Top-10, 7 of the songs are from 1976 or earlier, which is understandable simply because they have had a longer period to be played. Bryan Adams' '(Everything I do) I Do It For You' was a number 1 hit for about a billion years, which explains how it could be played so often since 1991, and Wet Wet Wet's 'Love Is All Around' was on the soundtrack to Hugh Grant's 1994 breakthrough Brit-com film Four Weddings and a Funeral, so again there are reasons.

Which all leads up to one important question: what the hell is Robbie Williams' 'Angels' doing at number 6?!?!

I mean christ almighty, it's barely over a decade old, yet has somehow been played more times than Bing Crosby's 'White Christmas', which was released in nineteen-FOURTY-TWO!! Even Elvis only made it to number 7. It boggles the mind, and depresses those of us with any musical taste whatsoever. The "Fat Dancer" from Take That has a lot to answer for, but clogging up the airwaves with insipid drivel is surely the main offence.

Gary Brooker, Procul Harum's lead vocalist and writer of 'A Whiter Shade of Pale', stated upon learning of this most recent accolade that it was a "great and unsought honour." Yet you can well imagine Williams' indignation at only being number 6, and not higher. Some people go into the music industry to push boundaries, experiment with sound and language and create new art forms. Others just want to make money and move to L.A.

As Brooker sang: "...her face at first just ghostly, turned a whiter shade of pale." She'd obviously just seen where 'Angels' was in the chart.

Weak for Motown

Of all the musical events and releases due in 2009, none can be as important as the anniversary of possibly the greatest American record label. 50 years ago this year, Berry Gordy opened the doors of Motown Records in Detroit, Michigan, and popular music was changed forever. With a roster of artists that would include Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding, Gladys Knight, Smokey Robinson, The Four Tops, The Temptations, Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross and the Supremes - to name but a few - Motown created a sound that built on African American musical traditions, yet was universally accessible to all colours and races.

Much has been, and subsequently will be, written about the history of the label and the importance and cultural relevance of the Motown catalogue. Yet a common theme accompanying this important anniversary appears to revolve around one question: 'What is the greatest Motown song ever recorded?'

It is not an easy question to answer. I was lucky enough to grow up with Motown playing in the background - my old man's favourite song of all time is Smokey's 'Tears of a Clown' - and fortunately adopted a taste for such music myself. I own plenty of Marvin, Stevie, Diana Ross (even though I can't stand her voice!). I've seen Motown's house band, The Funk Brothers, live in concert, as well as The Four Tops and The Temptations (albeit modern incarnations). So where do I start?!

Common consensus generally gives the vote to Martha Reeves and the Vandellas' 'Dancing In The Street', a truly great song, and one which I can understand the reasons behind the number of votes it receives. But it's not for me. Personally, my favourite Motown recording is The Isley Brothers' 'This Old Heart Of Mine (Is Weak For You), which rather goes against the grain when you consider that it was the only major hit the group had on the Motown label.

For a song that was passed over by The Four Tops - who deemed it inferior to the rest of their output - it has everything: one of the most memorable intros in pop music, that simply makes you want to dance; a vocal delivery from Ronald Isley that is full of passion and emotion; poignant lyrics concerning the subtler sides of romance (the breaking of a heart just from the breaking of an embrace); and above all a chorus that every man, woman and child is compelled to sing along to. A part of me even wishes that I didn't like the song so much, for my masculine pride would like to think that if a woman left me 100 times, I would not take her back once, let alone all 100 times! But the song permeates any defences, enters the soul and lifts you up to say 'Here, this is me, this is who I am'.

It is a lifetime of love, loss and recovery in a 2-minute 46-second bubble, which your feet won't stop moving to. Musical Perfection.

Sad Spector-cle

It certainly seemed inevitable - in a similar way to how justice caught up with OJ Simpson - that legendary music producer Phil Spector would in some way be brought to account for the death of the actress Lana Clarkson, which occured in his house 6 years ago. And so it was, yesterday, that after 30 hours of deliberation the jury found him guilty of her murder.

I do not pretend to know all the facts of the case, and as such would never sit here and argue over the verdict. But what I do know is that Phil Spector made great music, and I hope that in the great History of Time it is this fact that he is most remembered for. Many great people have wandered from their path before him (MJ anyone?!), and many will subsequently do so in years to come.

But any man that can create The Ronnette's 'Be My Baby', Ike & Tina's 'River Deep, Mountain High', 'You've Lost That Loving Feeling' by the Righteous Brothers and The Beatles' Let It Be album should always be held in the highest musical regard. His 'Wall of Sound' technique was equally both innovative and instantly recognisable, and an inspiration to many. Brian Wilson even described 'Be My Baby' as "the most perfect pop record of all time."

Not a bad legacy.

Shame about the gun obsession.