Rob Mansfield's stream of web

C.W. Stoneking - has to be seen and heard to be believed

In a rare escape from the sofa on a Monday evening, I ventured out to the Hydrant on London Road, Brighton last night to enjoy the wondrous talents of CW Stoneking.

Originally hailing from Melbourne, Australia, Stoneking channels the spirit of 1920s Louisiana and Mississippi blues, with his extraordinary voice and technically gifted banjo playing.

CW Stoneking ticket

Backed by his 'Primitive Horn Orchestra', he puts together a quite remarkable show, full of dry, witty inter-song banter, tunes to dance to and an atmosphere that wouldn't be out of place on Main St, New Orleans.

Close your eyes when you're watching him live and you find yourself transported, such is the realistic nature of the experience.

The above video doesn't really do justice to his act - which has admittedly been criticised for being a little too knowing and arch, but then when did Bruce Springsteen ever work on a factory line?

If you get the chance to go and see this guy, do. It reminded me of the true pleasure of the 'live' experience, rather than the mundane, in-ear iPod listening that most of us do every day.

- More music on my Posterous

Listen up, Joanna Newsom fans

via npr.org

The Joanna Newsom phenomenon has very possibly passed many people by.

After all, her main instrument is a harp, her voice is best compared with Bjork, her music contains no obvious hooks or choruses and the shortest tracks are 6 minutes long. Not exactly a crowd-pleaser.

And yet, and yet... Joanna Newsom's first two albums Milk-Eyed Mender and Ys were critically acclaimed as being some of the most adventurous and mind-bending of the last 10 years.

And now she's back with Have One On Me. Fans will be very happy to hear that this is a triple album - as packed full of edgy melodies and poetic lyrics as ever.

What's more, whether it's due to the toning down of the squeaky voice, this is possibly her most accessible record yet.

Along with her trademark harp, there's also accompaniment from piano, violin, lute and mandolin - among other instruments - which overall seems to make everything a lot richer than previous records.

But don't go expecting any top 10 singles - this is still typical Joanna Newsom. Slightly discordant and not something you'd put on as pleasing background music. it's an album that demands close listening if you want genuine reward.

It's released on Monday 1 March, but you can hear it first on NPR for nothing if you want to find out if you like it.

- Found via @euzie

Stranded on a Desert Island

Desert Island Discs evokes strong memories for me. As a kid, when I was in the car with my dad travelling home after a weekend, it would invariably be on and I would be subjected to listening to people I'd never heard of being interviewed, choosing pieces of classical music I had no interest in.

In fact, the only time I ever remember someone not choosing a non-classical piece was when the boxer Alan Minter was being quizzed and he picked Boney M's Brown Girl In The Ring, although I'm sure he wasn't the first.

Those were the days when the dulcet tones of Roy Plomley would introduce the week's castaway when Radio 4 seemed like the last thing on earth I'd ever want to listen to regularly.

But now, 30-odd years on, with the arrival of the weekly podcast, Desert Island Discs has become staple listening.

Part of the attraction are the mellifluous tones of Kirsty Young, who has the most soothing voice - a voice made for radio, dare one say it.

But the diversity of the guests are what makes DID so appealing. In the past couple of months you could have listened to Morrissey, Michael Caine, Professor Mary Beard, James Ellroy and Mary Portas to name but a few.

Often the names are household, but there are always a few less well-known guests - often the ones who end up being the most interesting.

While Desert Island Discs is not exactly the confessional box, the intimate nature of radio and the polite, yet incisive questioning of Kirsty Young mean you do get an insight into people that you probably wouldn't get from, say, a Michael Parkinson grilling, or a magazine feature.

Sixty-eight years and counting - who wouldn't bet on it lasting another 68?