Tuesday 29 December 2009

The Best of 2009 Part 2....

Sporting Moments
England regain The Ashes
Jenson Button claims the Formula 1 World Championship
Cristiano Ronaldo signs to Real Madrid for £80m
England qualify for the football World Cup 2010
Tom Watson at the golfing Open Championship

Heroes

Tom Watson
Terry Wogan
Frank Skinner
Stuart Broad
Kim Clijsters

Villains
Nick Griffin
Peter Kay
Jan Moir
Thierry Henry
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad

Personal events
Birth of my first child George
Moctoberfest
Gaz's Stag Do in Berlin
Playing for Barely Athletic 5-a-side football
Recording the Two Wise Men Podcasts

Tuesday 22 December 2009

The Best of 2009....

Albums
Journal For Plague Lovers - Manic Street Preachers
Primary Colours - The Horrors
West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum - Kasabian
The Resistance - Muse
La Roux - La Roux

Films
Inglourious Basterds
Star Trek
In the Loop
Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince
The Damned United

TV
Red Riding (C4)
Micro Men (BBC4)
The Secret Life of The Berlin Wall (BBC4)
James May's Toy Stories (BBC2)
Psychoville (BBC2)

Significant Moments

Nick Griffin appears on BBC's Question Time.
Rage Against The Machine reach Christmas No. 1.
Twitter comes of age/the Iranian election protests.
MP's expenses claims are revealed.
The UN Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen fails to result in 'legal enforcement'.

Raging against the Machine isn't just for Christmas....it's for life

There's been more than enough coverage in the press, including a number of very good articles below, but there's something, I think, being completely missed about Rage Against The Machine getting to Christmas No.1

Charlie Brooker's Guardian Column
Luke Lewis' NME Blog
Dave Lister's Independent Column

Firstly, RATM getting to Christmas No. 1 is many things but it is NOT a victory for music. A victory for music would mean an artist writing and releasing a new song so capturing the imagination of the general public that it reached the top spot on its own merit and not by weight of on an 'organised' campaign. Thus would the X-Factor gravy train be truly undermined proving that authentically great and original music, whatever the genre, is still more desirable to the public.

Secondly (and this may seem a little too earnest but...), RATM getting to Christmas number 1 is NOT a victory for the spirit of Christmas. The lyrical themes of 'Killing in the Name' hardly echo my, admittedly athiest, values of Christmas. Raging against anything just doesn't seem right in the supposed 'season of goodwill', even if 'The Machine' does take the form of Sony BMG.

There are however, two things for which RATM getting to Christmas No. 1 SHOULD be celebrated. It is a victory for the power of the Internet. The ease with which people can communicate and connect (if that doesn't sound too much like a BT advert) really does foster a true spirit of community. This campaign is evidence of how that spirit can be harnessed to effect.

Which of course leads to my second point. RATM getting to Christmas No. 1 is a victory for people power. Whatever you might think, it's undeniabally impressive that the campaign actually succeeded. I was proved wrong, having never believed it would happen. Perhaps I will be a little less cynical in the future.

Yet that's not all! If people power can be channelled through the Internet to topple Simon Cowell, what else might we achieve if we put our minds to it? This could be just the beginning. Think of the possiblities....

Monday 30 November 2009

Album Review: Muse - The Resistance


*****
In a world where the most popular acts play it safe with pseudo-meaningful lyrics and formulaic guitar driven drivel, Muse's Teignmouth trio are a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stale and pallid pantheon of bands proclaimed the 'greatest rock acts in the world today'.

Their ambition knows no bounds and for this reason alone they must be championed. Critics often disregard their work as pompous, bombastic and even a little silly but this in itself is why Muse should be so cherished.

Take single 'United States of Eurasia' and consider its component parts - an Arabian influenced bridge and a piano led classical coda each bookending a movement of choral chanting. It sounds absurd but when you actually hear it on record it is joyous.

'Uprising' has an intro which sounds like the theme tune to 'Dr Who' on speed and even wackier still, the riff from 'MK Ultra' recalls 80's quiz show classic 'Treasure Hunt'! Kenneth Kendall would no doubt approve.

Frustratingly, for such an eclectic musical feast, Matt Bellamy's lyric writing never reaches the same heights. Worthy themes abound but lines such as, "They'll keep us apart/they won't stop breaking us down" are all too often symptomatic of his problem.

Who exactly are 'they'? Give me some specifics. My old history teacher would often say the same when we answered questions in class. It became a kind of catchphrase. Not that we'd care obviously. While he hung his head in exasperation, we were busy humming the theme tune from 'World at War'.

However, regardless of the umbrage I take at this, I can't possibly hold it against them for long - I've already reached the album's defining 'Exogenesis' suite and its galactic pomposity is just too wondrous to ignore. In 'Redemption', the final part of the symphony, Bellamy wails about the human race starting over again.

It's almost naive and childish in its simplicity but somehow that's also what evokes the song's great sadness and desperation. As a child might ask of his grandparents in years to come, "Couldn't you stop what was happening? Couldn't you just go back and start over?" Something which at first seems so simple, often isn't and an album that could have played it simple....well it didn't.

Gentleman's Aggrievement


"My game is fair play" - FIFA

'Fair', 'Justice', 'Cheat' - If I were to create a word cloud representing the comments on blogs, forums and sports news pages over the past few weeks, I reckon those three words would be emblazoned across it, font size 72, bold type, surrounded in the ether of linguistic clutter by the slightly smaller words - 'Henry', 'French' and 'Git'.

Thierry Henry's handball (x2) in the World Cup playoff against the Republic of Ireland leads me to question the whole concept of 'fair play', that notion so dear to the hearts of Messers Platini and Blatter.

Is there truly such a thing as 'fair play' in sport, has there ever been, or is it just a Utopian concept as unobtainable as a mirage? After all, there's a certain element of our collective psyche that champions cheats.

Of course in today's world of multiple cameras, media furores and increased fiscal reward, cheating is more debated than ever. That doesn't mean however, that it wasn't also prevalent years ago.

Wasn't William Webb Ellis, merely a cheat trying to gain an advantage by illegally picking up the ball and running with it!? His name graces the Rugby Union World Cup for goodness sake! What kind of an example are we trying to set here people?!!

Maradona, that most notorious of cheats, may well personify an eroding of principles but lambast him not so much for his 'Hand of God' misdemeanour, but for following it up with such a ridiculously sublime moment of inspiration. You wonder how much damage must have been inflicted on the then young and impressionable minds of present day professionals, to witness greatness and devilish deception in such close proximity?

If we were ever to maintain the concept of 'fair play', those playing/spectating would have to accept that occasionally laws will be broken unbeknown to us competitors and fans alike. The more the game is dissected, recorded from every angle, slow-mo'ed and re-run, the less the game becomes about the spirit of competition, instead encouraging us to consider where rules can be bent.

If we aren't willing to accept that referees make mistakes, much like we aren't willing to accept that players play with honour, then regrettably we must turn to technology.

Thankfully, it can be done successfully as proven in tennis and the NFL. In the latter case, head coaches are allowed 3 challenges. Should, after video review, the decision of the officials be upheld, that team loses a 'time out' (a considerable punishment in American sports). This forces coaches to consider the worth in challenging and tends to limit appeals to 'game turning' decisions. If anything it adds to the drama, a certain 'will they, won't they?' suspense arising.

Of course by enforcing the correct decisions in this way, it truly will mean the end of the road for 'fair play'. They'll be no need for honesty, sportsmanship, ethics, the technology will render them redundant qualities. Some of the magic of sport will be lost forever. As much as the words stick in my throat, perhaps, just perhaps, FIFA have a point?

If we forgo our quest for this higher plain of 'fair play', however unobtainable it may be, those who are so quick to cry 'foul', shall never again have the right to complain about a lack of humanity and character in sport. They will only have themselves to blame.

Tuesday 24 November 2009

Head in the clouds

Most bloggers do this at some point (so my recent surfing seems to indicate) but despite the risk of repeating thousands who have gone before me, I couldn't resist entering my twitter feed into Wordle to see what I could see.

For those of you who don't know, 'Wordle' is a website which produces 'word clouds', graphical representations to show the frequency of words used on a web page, in a blog or indeed a twitter profile. The larger the word in the word cloud, the more frequently it's been used.

You can see the results below. There's something a little disconcerting about the fact that the name of my son only just beats the name of my football team in the frequency stakes. Ho hum.


Just for the sake of it, I also did the same thing with all the hash tags I'd used on twitter over my last 200 tweets. I'm quite proud of this one.


So there you have it. My conscious mind splurged onto a page. Meaningless probably, yet something about the concept seems a little sinister. If nothing else they remind me of the cover of Radiohead's 'Hail to the Thief' album and I like that.

Tuesday 17 November 2009

Top 75 Films Of All Time: 5-1


5) Pulp Fiction (1994)

Arguably Tarantino's finest film, 'Pulp Fiction' forgoes chronology, interweaving its numerous tales of gangster life into a collage of colourful characters and masterly dialogue.

So many scenes are memorable, Samuel L Jackson's 'Ezekiel 25:17' soliloquy, Christopher Walken's Gold Watch, even a non-consequential conversation about hamburgers is transformed by the director's artistry.

A wondrous farce and an eclectic mish-mash of pop culture references, this film manages to achieve the unlikely paradox of feeling thematically substantial whilst ultimately being utterly meaningless (see the opening definition of 'Pulp Fiction').

If there is a moral to be found, it could be argued to centre around a sense of honour or code. Butch and his father's legacy, Vincent and his boss's wife and finally, Jules and his reaction to what he sees as a divine intervention.

A postmodern masterpiece which Tarantino may never better.




4) Back To The Future (1985)

'Back To The Future' combined a fire-trailing DeLorean with a vertically challenged guitar wielding hero. No wonder it ranks so highly on my all time film list.

Placing Michael J Fox's 'Marty' in the unenviable position of having to set his Mother and Father on an unlikely road to love, it elaborated on the growing pains of adolescence, the delicacy of making life decisions and the expectancy of modern youth.

Although extended to a trilogy based on this film's success, neither the 2nd nor 3rd installments match the original for comic effect, nor recreate the glamorous drama of a speeding sports car channeling the power of a lightning bolt strike.

Spielberg at his finest, this was a perfectly pitched piece of comedy sci-fi adventure which captured my imagination to the point of obsession. A timeless classic.




3) Easy Rider (1969)

"A man went looking for America and couldn't find it anywhere..." - A superb tag line which captures the spirit of this 'road movie' perfectly.

Seeking freedom and with drug money stashed inside the tear drop gas tank of a 'Stars and Stripes' adorned Harley Davison, our hero 'Wyatt' rides off across the country with his companion on their way to Mardi Gras celebrations and ultimately 'a retirement in Florida'.

As they cross the states they gain an insight into various people's own version of 'freedom', from a farmer working the land to support his family, to a commune of city kids who've fled home, desperately trying to set up new lives based on the virtues of 'peace' and 'free love'.

None have more impact on Wyatt however, than small town lawyer and drunkard George Hanson - another wonderful turn from Mr Jack Nicholson - who's sage words in the face of hostility from local 'long-hair' haters, force Wyatt to reevaluate his beliefs.

Beautifully made on the most meagre of budgets by its stars Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda, 'Easy Rider' has perhaps become the archetypal cult classic.




2) The Godfather Part II (1974)

The second part of the Godfather story is where all starts to unravel for the Corleone family. After Vito and Sonny's death, Al Pacino as Michael is installed at the head of the family business, a position he had previously promised he would never adopt.

The tragic downfall of this once innocent character into the bitter, twisted and paranoid man portrayed here is sad yet intoxicating. Many a shocking twist unfolds and the finale is chilling to the core.

However, it's the flashbacks that really set this film apart from the original 'Godfather'. Robert De Niro is excellent as the young Vito, arriving in New York from Sicily and establishing himself in the Italian community.

From generation to generation, a vicious circle of duty, expectation and responsibility. Drama of the highest quality and a truly exceptional film.




1) The Empire Strikes Back (1979)

Revealing the single premise around which all subsequent Star Wars films ultimately revolve, the discovery of Darth Vader as Luke Skywalker's father is the most inspired moment in the career of George Lucas.

In today's world of piracy, spoilers and the Internet it would be impossible to keep under wraps, yet back 1979 it appears this unexpected plot twist left people leaving the cinema in a genuine state of shock.

Darker than its predecessor, there's a tangible sense of desperation as the rebels toil in the face of an ever tightening Imperial grip on the galaxy.

Wonderful new characters are introduced too, most notably 'Master Yoda', who's teaching of Luke is equally fraught with setback and failure, Luke's unexpected encounter at the cave truly setting hearts racing, its surprise conclusion a weighty portent of what is to come.

The perfect interplay of fantasy, tragedy and mystique, 'The Empire Strikes Back' sets itself apart from all other episodes in the saga and it's this magical blend that makes the film such an enjoyable and memorable cinematic experience.

Wednesday 11 November 2009

Top 75 Films Of All Time: 10-6


10) 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

Frankly, it takes a lot of patience to watch this film, there being many a long scene of soundless space flight to bear, but not only was '2001' a step forward in terms of special effects, it presented an unerringly realistic representation of space travel, sinister and lonely, 'personified' memorably by HAL the cycloptic, super computer.

Based on Arthur C Clarke's novel, themes include humanity's place in the galaxy, the possible existence of alien life, the existence of God and man's relationship with technology, culminating in a mind-bending sequence of kaleidoscopic colour that ends with the birth of the 'Star Child'. If you think that sounds crazy, just try watching it!

9) Apocalypse Now (1979)

The ultimate statement on the madness of war. Adapted from Joseph Conrad's novel 'Heart of Darkness', its atmospheric, dream like quality is evident from the opening scene as helicopter rotor blades poetically mirror the ceiling fan in our hero's Saigon hotel room, and all set to Jim Morrison's aching lilt from 'The End'.

As we follow Captain Williard on his quest to assassinate the rogue Colonel Kurtz, we begin to question, as does Williard, the sanity of the mission. Is Kurtz, worshipped like a God by his legion of followers, really the mad one in this scenario? Marlon Brando is mesmeric in one of his last film roles.

8) Return of the Jedi (1980)

The final installment in the original Star Wars trilogy, this was the film that truly cemented the saga's legacy.

Elaborating on the previous installments good versus evil theme, uniquely for a sci-fi blockbuster, we see inner conflict not only in lead character Luke Skywalker but also iconic villain Darth Vader, a battle of wills culminating in eventual enlightenment for both.

Add to the melting pot a thrillingly conceived spaceship attack inside a space station, plus a gold bikini clad Carrie Fisher and you have a fabulous conclusion to the most successful movie trilogy of all time.

7) One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (1975)

Impossibly charming, life-affirming and poignant, this is a film for which the phrase 'a joy to watch' should have been coined. Starring many a soon to be 'household' name, a group of patients in a mental institution have their world turned upside down by the arrival of Jack Nicholson's, 'R P McMurphy'.

As he rages against the authoritarian regime enforced by Nurse Ratched, we're graced with a tale of oppression, mans fight against 'the machine', and the perrenial lure of institutionalisation. "I tried though goddamit", spits McMurphy, "at least I did that much."

6) Star Wars (1977)

It was in 1977's 'Star Wars' that we were first treated to the sight of a lightsabre, grown men weakening at the knees on hearing that wonderful electric crackling and throbbing.

Alec Guinness, as the wise old Jedi Master, was perfectly cast as the mysterious harbinger of magical forces, tipping just the right amount of knowing looks to leave us debating Jedi powers for decades to come, "If you strike me down Darth, I become more powerful than you can possibly imagine." - Quite simply, brilliant!

With the film culminating in the now famous 'trench run' on the 'Death Star', millions left the cinema elated, their imaginations running wild with images of space battles, light sword fights and the words of Obi Wan Kenobi still ringing in their ears.

Tuesday 3 November 2009

Top 75 Films Of All Time: 75-11


Don't ask me why I've chosen to do this now (other than to show off my cultural prowess of course) but having come across this Empire countdown of the Top 500 films of all-time, inevitably I started to think about what would be my Top 500?

Have I even seen 500 films in my lifetime? Probably, I'm not sure but I was struck with the following thought....'Wouldn't it be great to list every film I've ever seen and give them a ranking order?'

Well, obviously the logistics of such an endeavour are a little against me. However, after some meticulous thought, list making, crossing out, cutting, pasting, swapping about, rehashing and eventual exasperation, I have finally come up with a Top 75.

The one thing it has made apparent, is the numerous holes in my personal cinematic tapestry. I've not, for instance, seen such supposed greats as 'Goodfellas', 'Raging Bull' or 'Alien', and my viewing of 'Citizen Kane' amounts only to a couple of drunken, aborted attempts after nights out at Loughborough University's Student Union.

Nonetheless, it excites me that there's still so many top films for me to seek out in the future and, if nothing else, at least this exercise has given me a few ideas for my next trip to 'Blockbuster'.

So here it is, my top 75 in reverse order up to 11 (the Top 10 I shall give a little more attention to). Please be gentle with me as I'm sure to many there will be some glaring omissions. Let battle commence....

75) Frost/Nixon (2008)
74) Shaun Of The Dead (2004)
73) The Bourne Supremacy (2004)
72) Rope (1948)
71) Ghostbusters (1984)
70) Airplane! (1980)
69) The Damned United (2009)
68) The Bridge On The River Kwai (1957)
67) Rebel Without A Cause (1955)
66) Saw (2004)
65) The Time Machine (1960)
64) A Clockwork Orange (1971)
63) Smokey And The Bandit (1977)
62) The Matrix Reloaded (2003)
61) Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991)
60) The Blair Witch Project (1999)
59) Batteries Not Included (1987)
58) Scent Of A Woman (1992)
57) This Is England (2006)
56) 24 Hour Party People (2002)
55) Mike Bassett: England Manager (2001)
54) Grease (1978)
53) Jaws (1975)
52) WALL-E (2008)
51) Se7en (1995)
50) The Departed (2006)
49) The Italian Job (1969)
48) Schindler's List (1993)
47) The Good, The Bad And The Ugly (1967)
46) Toy Story (1995)
45) Halloween (1978)
44) Harry Potter And The Half Blood Prince (2009)
43) Control (2007)
42) Jurassic Park (1993)
41) This Is Spinal Tap (1984)
40) The Godfather Part III (1990)
39) The Birds (1963)
38) The Shining (1980)
37) Saving Private Ryan (1998)
36) Rear Window (1954)
35) Trainspotting (1996)
34) The Great Escape (1963)
33) Vertigo (1958)
32) The Man With The Golden Gun (1974)
31) No Country For Old Men (2007)
30) Fight Club (1999)
29) Fargo (1996)
28) Kill Bill Vol. 2 (2004)
27) The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
26) Casablanca (1942)
25) Full Metal Jacket (1987)
24) Casino Royale (2006)
23) Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade (1989)
22) The Exorcist (1973)
21) Forest Gump (1994)
20) Dr No. (1962)
19) Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban (2004)
18) Resevoir Dogs (1992)
17) The Godfather (1972)
16) Taxi Driver (1976)
15) Psycho (1960)
14) Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
13) The Life of Brian (1979)
12) Goldfinger (1964)
11) American Beauty (1999)

Thursday 29 October 2009

Krautrock: The Rebirth of Germany


It may only be up on the BBC i-player for a few more days, I don't know, but if you are interested in alternative music or are inspired by cultural revolution, I'd urge you to watch 'Krautrock: The Rebirth of Germany'.

Through charting the rise of bands such as Neu!, Can, Faust and of course Kraftwerk, the show really conveys how the creative vibe for social change inspired Germans to reinvent themselves in the latter half of the last century.

Having been to Germany and Berlin in particular a couple of times, it certainly made its mark on me (and yes, that is a pun).

Friday 16 October 2009

Album Review: Ignore The Ignorant - The Cribs


****
'Ignore the Ignorant' is another generous helping of Lancashire guitar driven indie, packed full of songs that will force their way instantly into the indie-kid's affections.

'Cheat On Me' with its vintage Marr contribution is one of my favourite singles of the year and opener 'We Were Aborted' is crafted into a striking comment on fidelity and exploitation - "Mid-shelf masturbation/Leaves a smear on half the nation".

More importantly however, The Cribs have evolved from producing strings of catchy hits to writing songs that are really something beautiful to behold. In particular this is true of 'We Share the Same Skies' and 'Last Year's Snow', the latter rejoicing in the line, "Yesterday's bouquet/Looks a little sad today." I love the sentiment evoked here, truly poetic.

I'm also in thrall to 'Save Your Secrets' which initially reminds me of 'Revolver' era Beatles with its high melody and blissful harmonies over lyrics that are wonderfully melancholic, "You are far more likely/To be devoured than empowered/By your sense of romance." However, then the mood changes altogether with the chorus rolling in like Kurt Cobain in a wheelchair, "Save your secrets/For those who deserve it." - marvellous.

'Victim of Mass Production' and 'Ignore the Ignorant' are further gems and although the album's not without its questionable moments (I'm not really sure about 'Emasculate Me' for example) as a whole, it truly is evidence of how The Cribs have become a band to reckon with, capable not only of rebel rousing anthems, but also of delivering on a greater artistic level with delicacy and poignancy.

Wednesday 14 October 2009

Year Zero's

With my mind in a permanently addled and sleep deprived state recently, many strange thoughts have occurred to me. They mainly enter the old brain box during the course of the morning commute, often triggered by a random newspaper headline glimpsed over the shoulder of a stranger, before passing out again and into the ether.

One such thought however, has stuck with me for a couple of days - it's maddening. I hope by writing about it I will dispel the thought from my conscience as if it were some kind of ancient curse in need of exorcising - "I need an old priest and a young priest, and failing that get me a blog upon which I can post nonsense".

Why, when we refer to the current calendar year of our Lord, do we say 'two thousand and nine'? Not 'twenty nine' nor 'twenty hundred and nine' but specifically 'two thousand and nine'?

By next year we will undoubtedly be saying 'twenty ten' rather than 'two thousand and ten' and we're already preparing for the 'twenty twelve Olympics'! The equivalent decade of the last century is always 'nineteen 'o' nine' or 'nineteen hundred and nine' So why change now?!

I wonder what choice was made even further back at the turn of the last millennium? Did 'King Ethelred the Unready' refer to his reign over England as spanning the year 'One thousand', and if so, why precisely was he 'unready'?

Did he, when signing off his Christmas speech, wish everyone a "very, happy and peaceful one thousand and one" unaware that every other upstanding citizen was saying 'ten hundred and one' and therefore suffering a lifetime of humiliation at the hands of his loyal subjects for not conducting the proper research?

You can bet your bottom dollar that by the turn of the next millennium it will change again. Perhaps, we'll refer to the date as 'three, triple zero' or maybe we'll be done with the whole thing and just settle for giving the year in binary, and don't even get me started on whether we refer to the current decade as the 'noughties'.

I think I'm slowly losing my mind....

Monday 12 October 2009

Album Review: Humbug - Arctic Monkeys


****
"Bah humbug", Ebenezer Scrooge once spat. The modern day equivalent has probably been emanating forth from many a 'Monkeys' fan in recent weeks fuelled I suspect by the bands departure from anthemic, booze infused ode's to nights on the razz in favour of a more considered approach.

Considered approach or not, they still can't get album covers right. 'Favourite Worse Nightmare' had an absolute stinker but 'Humbug's' is as bland as John Craven reading the shipping forecast after an overdose on Night Nurse.

At first, the music appears to have little more pep. 'Crying Lightning' didn't exactly take the world by storm on release but, perfectly exemplifying this album, it is, to use a well worn term, 'a grower'.

Gradually, 'Humbug' reveals its considerable charms, layered as it is with hidden wonders, and although it is hard to pick out tracks with real 'single' potential, you find that all play their part in bringing a little extra sass to the 'Arctic Monkeys' repertoire, perhaps too much in opener 'My Propeller', hardly a subtle euphemism for Alex Turner's manhood.

'Fire and the Thud' flickers with a new found intensity whilst 'Dance Little Liar' growls and snarls, an infectious base riff rolling around your ear drums. 'Cornerstone', evokes an image of Jimmy Stewart in the film 'Vertigo', desperately seeking the woman he once loved, whilst 'Secret Door' purs with an assured air.

Despite the inevitable criticism this album will receive, in reality it is extremely hard to fault and although gone are Turner's whimsical ditties, he's managed to replace them with shadowy glimpses which in many ways suggest so much more, "You can never get it spotless when there's dirt beneath the dirt" - Mysterious, sinister and superb!

Friday 2 October 2009

I'm the Daddy!


It's been a while since I last blogged (as far back as September 1st) and, as most of you (maybe all of you) who read this will know, it's as a result of the biggest event of my life taking place at 22:25 on September 13th.

It almost seems impossible to write about new fatherhood without sounding cliched, gushing and self-important, yet by trying to avoid these traps you only end up sounding trite, flippant or downright uncaring.

In a way though, this paradox is as good a metaphor as any for explaining the wondrous, dream like state that ensues after the birth of your child. It feels like both everything and nothing all at the same time.

I should explain. Often, the question posed to a new father more than any other is, "So how does it feel to be a Dad?" This is never answered truthfully of course but I expect for many, as in my case, it actually feels no different at all to when you were a 'non-Dad'.

I'm still the same relatively irresponsible young man, with the same cultural likes, dislikes, character flaws and foibles, and it certainly hasn't changed my outlook on the world overnight. I'm no more or less conscious of global warming, street crime or the state of education even though I probably should be.

My new 'father' status is instead defined by individual moments, gradually enlightening me to the life that lies ahead. For example, when I worried the first time I saw my baby sneeze or the warm affection I felt when he first gurgled contentment as I rocked him to sleep in my arms.

Perhaps most strikingly, one morning at 3 o'clock, when having tried for hours to settle a baby who just simply wouldn't stop crying, despite being fed, changed and burped, my thoughts weren't of how terrible a night I was having but simply of wishing I could put right whatever it was that was wrong.

Of course, it would be churlish of me to say that it wasn't stressful, that I wasn't aware of how much I just wanted to get some sleep. However, therein lies my point.

So far, being a father has been both elating and depressing, both worrying and carefree, both fun and excrutiating, both everything and nothing. Yet despite the whirlwind I currently find myself in, what I can say with absolute certainty is that I love him.

It's as simple as that, and when all is said and done, for me and my boy, my Georgie boy, that really is everything I need to know right now.

Thursday 3 September 2009

Film Review - Inglourious Basterds


****
'Quentun Tarentino' seems to be at a dangerous point in his directorial career.

From judging the general consensus of opinion surrounding the controversial film maker, it appears he needs to step up and realise the full potential of his indubitable talent.

I don't agree. Kill Bill Vol. 2 was a superb film, stylistically perfect and thematically intriguing with its tale of the revenge bride played immaculately by Uma Thurman.

However, I can appreciate some of the criticisms levelled at the man. He's a geeky, obsessive fan boy who prefers nothing more than splattering his knowledge of cult film across his movies, his interviews, across his very person, all with a relish that can at times be excruciating.

In 'Inglourious Basterds', a World War 2 fantasy Jewish revenge, so desperate is he to 'tip a knowing wink' at his audience, that at times he risks undermining the very fabric of the film.

There are some seriously odd moments, none more so than Mike Myers' appearance as a British Field Marshal, accompanied, no less, by Winston Churchill sitting at a grand piano! It could be a weird and wonderful scene cut straight from an Austin Powers movie.

Another sees one of the more prominent 'Basterds', a guerrilla fighting team of raging Jews whose mission it is to scalp as many Nazis as possible, enter the fray to a musical flourish and stencilled yellow lettering proclaiming his name. It resembles the opening credits of the 'A-Team' for chuffs sake!

Mark Kermode, one of my favourite movie critics, certainly agrees.



The more astute of you will notice I've spent the first half of this review pretty much slagging Tarantino off. Why then, I hear you ask, have I lavished 4 golds stars on the thing?

The answer is, that despite these admitted foibles, it's impossible not to enjoy the film immensely. There are scenes of unbridled tension and suspense which Hitchcock himself would have been proud of. The tavern scene in particular is so fantastically written that you can't help but appreciate the genius.

The characters too are exceptional. Brad Pitt as 'Aldo Raine', leader of 'the Basterds', is a joy to watch and both Diane Kruger and Melanie Laurent are excellent. One of the great skills of Tarantino is his ability to write strong female roles particularly in this case Laurent's vengeful cinema owner.

Christoph Waltz stands head and shoulders above the rest however with his unparalled 'jew hunter' Colonel Landa, whispers of an Oscar nomination are already doing the rounds and I expect it's with some justification.

Ultimately, it can't be denied that this film still feels special, packed as it is with talking points and memorable moments. Despite the obvious flaws, few filmakers are able to create such intrigue, impact and enjoyment from a film. His masterpiece it is not, yet when Quentin finally does grow up, we'll be all the more sorry for the loss of his childlike qualities.

Wednesday 26 August 2009

Passion is a fashion



I couldn't resist posting up this brilliant photo of 'The Clash'. I was reminded of how much I loved it when it appeared in a film I watched recently. Discussions on 'School of Rock'/Jack Black I shall leave for another day but in the meantime enjoy the energy and perfect aesthetic captured in this image of a truly great band.

There's a far more famous Pennie Smith photo of Paul Simonon smashing his bass guitar, voted 'Q' magazine's best Rock 'N' Roll photo of all time, but what I particularly love in this image are his snarling lips and angular stance. With Mick Jones (on the right) caught mid 'windmill' arm, you get a real sense of the urgency with which the band played live.

I would have loved to have seen 'The Clash' in their pomp but with that an impossibility I'll have to settle for this footage of them performing 'Clampdown' which for me sums up how a band should perform on stage: posturing, gyrating and looking fundamentally cool!

Friday 21 August 2009

I might be wrong


First, some self-flagellation - I sometimes get things wrong. I know, I know it's a shock that I could admit such a thing (an admission that would probably send Laura into labour).

Also, I can be a bit of an anally retentive, holier than thou, music snob. This however, I won't apologise for. I may be erroneously accused of 'going all NME' but my stoicism in this particular field is unequivocally necessary.

It's kept me from falling into the trap of liking U2 for a start. A petty crime you might think but in my world an act of the most diabolic heresy. Recently however, I've had to perform a smart u-turn when postulating the merits of one particular band - 'The Cribs'.

Despite already being 2 albums into their career, it wasn't until their 2007 release of 'Men's Needs, Women's Needs, Whatever' that they appeared on my personal radar.

For a long time I considered them a poor man's 'Libertines', lacking in the poetic romanticism of 'the likely lads' and in interviews, more dour than a Mick McCarthy post-match soundbite.

I'd heard the singles of course, 'I'm A Realist' in particular (the song that's perhaps still my least favoured on the album), and to be brutally honest, I'd been less than impressed.

I suppose my change of heart manifested itself, not in anything musical that passed my ear (as is so often the case when considering a bands worth), but in the news that legendary 'Smiths' guitarist Johnny Marr had joined their ranks for the new album.

If musical influences were so fused as to make this possible, perhaps 'The Cribs' were due a reassessment. They were, and now I find myself in thrall to their arresting guitar hooks and disaffected lyrics, so much so that I'm in considerable anticipation of 4th album 'Ignore The Ignorant' released next week.

I could be a little concerned, maybe even embarrassed, that I was guilty of such an oversight (I did tell you I was anal about these things) but I suppose I'd much rather be late to the party - as long as it's the right party. At least in sticking to my guns, even if I occasionally might be wrong, I avoid being another member of 'Our Bovine Public'.

Monday 17 August 2009

Commencing countdown

4 weeks to go until the due date and we're told things could happen any time from the end of this week!

As we approach D-Day, I actually feel quite calm, serene in fact which, paradoxically, makes me feel a little nervous. I was expecting to be a bag of nerves and the fact that I'm not, makes me worry the eventual arrival could be a bigger shock to the system than even I expect.

In truth, much like in the build up to our wedding day, once you've organised everything and are merely waiting for the action to unfold, there's not actually much you can do to effect the outcome of things anyway.

I was much more stressed when, at the beginning of the pregnancy, it felt like there was a never ending list of things that needed to be bought, mended, cleared out, readied etc. trailing off into the distance. Now it's hard to remember the time when having a baby wasn't always just the way things were.

I'm not going to lie to anyone though, when I occasionally say to myself "You'll be a father in a month's time", I still get a brief swelling of panic that rises from the pit of my stomach and usually leaves unsociably out of my backside.

It soon passes though (literally) and I realise there's a very real possibility of my becoming one of those parents who go on and on and on and on about their darling little bundle of joy ad nauseum - something I'll be trying very hard to avoid especially as the vast majority of my friends are sans sproglet.

Having said that though, what amazes me is the excitement with which the news was greeted by friends who have been a fantastic calming influence.

When worrying about how my every action could influence my kid, it was a friend who wisely suggested that they will inevitably be the first to see faults in their parents character and usually do everything to avoid replicating those faults in their own personality.

From the personalised 'Mini McRae' cards to all the offers of babysitting, it's reassuring to know that friends will be there too, not just doing a runner at the first whiff of a soiled nappy.

It's enough to make me start feeling confident about this parenting lark again...that's a worry.

Tuesday 11 August 2009

'Football' focus


Another new football season has already begun and it feels like a huge release.

Not just because I've missed the regular fix of domestic football, especially in the absence of a proper international competition (the Confederations Cup doesn't count), but because I grow tired of all the speculative transfer rumours, news of clubs financial turmoil and the general nonsense of an annual silly season that erupts over the summer months.

My own club Chelsea is as much to blame as any. Drogba, so insistent that his time at the Blues was over, has performed a more dramatic about face than Jodie Marsh's make up and John Terry, the so-called 'Mr Chelsea', has treated all the fans like complete morons (the fact that most Chelsea fans are morons is no excuse), claiming his silence on any potential transfer to Man City was because he, "wanted to find the right words to say." Quite simply - bollocks!

Despite this though, I'm not going to fall into the trap of bemoaning the loss of football's soul (although I accept that it may well have slipped down the back of the sofa with the small change some time ago), nor will I claim that football was so much better in the good old days.

There may have been more club loyalty, you may have seen the players down the local boozer and your salary may have only been a couple of zero's less than your idols but when you cut through all the hoi poloi, the thrill of seeing Gerrard driving into the opposition box or the joy of watching Arshavin skinning a couple of defenders before burying a shot into the far corner, still makes you tingle with the same excitement as ever.

So here's my plea for the new season. As the drama unfolds, resist the temptation to talk endlessly of terrible refereeing decisions or how you was robbed by a diving centre forward cheating his way to a penalty award. We love to debate these things and of course they add spice but ultimately we can't control them and even though it's a cliche, these decisions generally do even themselves out over the course of 38 games.

Instead, wax lyrical over a sublime piece of silky skill, gesticulate wildly when describing a real rasper unleashed from the edge of the box or swear liberally in appreciation of a point blank reaction save.

Above all, let the words of 'Big' Ron Atkinson ring sagely in your ears.... "I never comment on referees and I'm not changing the habit of a lifetime for that prat!"

Sunday 2 August 2009

Film Review - Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince


****
Most film franchises have blown themselves out by now but 6 films in, the tale of Harry Potter goes from strength to strength.

I'd argue (probably to the disgust of most fans) this film is an improvement on the book which was perhaps a little flabby in places.

It's true that some of the intricacies of the story get lost in the constricts of a 2hr film such as the mystery surrounding the identity of the Half Blood Prince himself and indeed the battle in the grounds of Hogwarts which is practically non-existent here. However the film manages to cover everything else without feeling bloated nor lacking in circumspect - a considerable achievement

Many film goers will be disappointed of course. There's no showdown between Harry and Voldemort, in fact the Dark Lord is never to be seen, yet the sense of pending doom bubbles under sinisterly from the moment Dumbledore appears with his blackened, wizened hand.

In fact this film, if it focuses on any single character, could be really about Professor Snape, Rowling's most complex character, whose allegiance and intention is still so clouded in mystery. See him first colluding with Death Eaters only then to appear Dumbledore's greatest ally.

The film culminates in a wonderful sequence where Harry has to fight his instincts and trust in Dumbledore and Snape only to watch on as he and Dumbledore are betrayed. This climatic scene is played with such great ambivalence that it is surely the best sequence of any of the films to date.

That the film still manages to make you laugh, indulging in the teenage love triangles of Hogwarts young students and Jim Broadbent's hapless and guilt-ridden Professor Slughorn, is to be saluted. It is incredible that as the emotions of the lead characters become that much more complex, the actors, so young when first selected to play the roles, have managed to mature in their skill and not only their years.

Perhaps none more so than Tom Felton as Draco Malfoy, burdened all term by the terrible act he has been given responsibility to commit. As the others flit through their love lives, Draco is seen brooding in the shadows clearly preparing himself for the event.

His relationship with Snape is almost as intriguing as Harry's and at the films climax we are still unsure of whether Snape's 'unbreakable vow' to protect him is one of genuine concern or of simple necessity. Either way the intrigue is limitless.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince could well be the pinnacle of the series. From here on in there's a certain inevitability to events. The beauty of this installment is in Harry's personal plight and how trust, authority and duplicity can have an effect on every young man who thinks he knows where he stands in the world.

If not the best Harry Potter film so far, it's certainly in the top 1.

Saturday 1 August 2009

Summer holidays and 'The Swines'

Having recently been away for a few days in Dorset and having the rest of the week off to spend with family, I've had a much needed break from the routine sparking lie-ins, meals out and a general devil may care attitude to expenditure.

This has been liberating but now I find myself worrying a) that I haven't got enough cash to get me through the rest of the month b) that my return to work will divulge a plethora of disasters occurring in my absence and c) that I haven't had enough time to catch up with the usual string of 'witticisms' on twitter over the last few days. I must be mad!

***

Swine-Flu. I wonder if there would be so much hysteria if the word 'flu' was prefixed with something less threatening than 'Swine' ("Ooh the little swine's gone and pinched me knickers off the wash line"). Perhaps if this strain of the virus had originated in rabbits rather than pigs and was given the name 'Bunny-flu', everyone would be quite happy to be infected and we'd all think nothing worse of it than if we'd picked up a slight sniffle in the rain on a damp Tuesday. After all, bird-flu, a far more dangerous disease to humans, seemed timid in comparison.

Imagine the furore if some equally tame illness was found to come from spiders! Arachno-flu. Now there's a phrase to conjure with!

Friday 24 July 2009

By the light of the moon


The 40th anniversary of the moon landings has excited and enthralled me much more than expected.

I've been lapping up the media coverage like a thirsty dog does water.

Much of the reason for this I realise, is due to my recent visit to Cape Canaveral, from which of course, all the Apollo missions were launched during the 60's and 70's (there's nothing as satisfying as pointing at the telly and saying, "I've been there".)

I'd never visited America before last year and despite my healthy cynicism towards the nation (they re-elected George W Bush for Christ's sake), gaining a fuller understanding of the sheer improbability of that lunar endeavour forced me to reassess my admittedly lazy viewpoint.

The single-mindedness, defiance and self-reverence that I'd come to see as representative of American imperialism, was also that which enabled such an incredible objective to be achieved. 'Only in America' - a cliche which like most cliches, harbours a certain truth.

However, not only could landing a man on the moon only be achieved in America, on understanding the ridiculously fine line between success and tragic failure, you realise that it could only have been achieved in that era too. In today's politically correct, 'health & safety' conscious world, such a mission just simply wouldn't be allowed.

The safe return of the astronauts couldn't be guaranteed and in many quarters was seriously doubted. Even President Nixon had a speech readied in case of the astronauts loss.

When you consider that if the Eagle's rockets hadn't fired (in order to return Armstrong and Aldrin to the Command module) there were no back ups, no additional fuel tanks etc., you realise it so easily could have been a disaster.

Obviously we may well go back to the moon, and if Arthur C Clarke's vision of the future is precient, we may even go on to explore our wider solar system. Despite this though, you get the impression man may never again achieve such a feat against the odds.

A sad possibility, but it will ensure we stay in thrall to the moon landings forever. They may yet teach us something about ourselves that surprises us!

Sunday 12 July 2009

In defence of Britpop


It's a much maligned period in British music, but if nothing else, the mid-90's 'Britpop' era, when indie music suddenly entered the wider public conscience, was an incredible phenomenon probably never to be repeated.

With the recent triumphant return of Blur at Glastonbury/Hyde Park, coupled with the Oasis shows at Wembley, these two most prominent of acts have somehow escaped the transient 'Britpop' tag to write themselves into the historic annals of popular music, traced back to its origins - The Beatles, The Rolling Stones et al.

In fact, if you were to compare the 'Britpop' era with any from the past, it's most likely to be the swinging 60's. A time when the world looked to Britain for the leading cultural, artistic and fashion trends. Of course in the 90's only some of the adulation British guitar bands received was really justifiable.

For every Blur, Suede or Pulp, reflecting on the social issues of the time (be they sexuality, class or careerism), there was a Dodgy, Cast or Ocean Colour Scene, riding the coat tails of hype and proliferating mindless pap under an imitative banner.

'Britpop' eventually imploded, the catalysts an overblown, over-hyped 3rd Oasis album in 1997, Noel Gallagher's visit to Downing Street etc. etc. However, perhaps more simplistically, the 'party' like all good parties had to come to an end, the excesses well documented on albums such as Pulp's 'This Is Hardcore' or Blur's eponymous 1997 album.

It is undeniably true that there's much to despise from the legacy of Britpop - endless bands dismally failing to recapture Oasis' spirit, ladism, political parties appropriating 'Cool Britannia'. You could even argue that it set the progress of popular music back some 30 years.

However, those who sweepingly disregard 'Britpop' are mistaken too. For all the evils, in essence it was an incredibly creative period of pop music which took indie/guitar music to a new, more exposed level. An exposure from which us fans are still benefiting some 15 years later.

From those who laid the foundations (The Stone Roses, The La's), to the household names perhaps even more popular now than then (Super Furry Animals, Radiohead), Britpop bands at their best, could capture the very essence of life in Britain.

If in doubt, listen to this Spotify playlist. It may only include a handful of bands from the plethora peddling their wares at the time but you just have to pick the best and discard the rest. Feel free to add to it, just don't expect me to tolerate 'Menswear'!

Cut Some Rug - Spotify Playlist

Thursday 9 July 2009

Album Review: West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum - Kasabian


****
Kasabian triumph where traditional stalwarts of the 'lad rock' oeuvre fail.

Mixing the swaggering pomp of Oasis with an innovative progression that the boys from Burnage never achieved, West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum (the very name suggesting something apart from the norm) will probably be another contender for album of 2009.

'Underdog' is a monster of an introduction, Tom spitting out venomous intent from the off and a riff destined to conquer. However, second track 'Where Did All the Love Go?' is the first sign Kasabian are onto something new, a woozy chorus straight out of a time warp channeling 60's psychedelia.

Followed by an instrumental entitled 'Swarfiga' (like 'Can' on heat), you begin to wonder whether they've lost the plot completely! Then, as if to coax us back from the precipice, 'Fast Fuse' pumps through you with vigour. Just try listening to it without bowling along the pavement as if you own the street.

Yet, just when you think you're getting a handle on the album, along comes 'West Ryder Silver Bullet playing like the soundtrack to a Sergio Lione western. It has to be said that at this point, I began to worry the band were slipping into pastiche, particularly on album closer 'Happiness' with its trite "nothing more/nothing less/all we need is happiness" lyric. Yet even this ballad, with its choir cheesely chipping in right on cue, still manages to get away with it, the middle 8 rescuing your attention just when it was about to turn it's back.

'Secret Alphabets' is all Egyptian mythology and wouldn't appear out of place on 'Sgt Pepper', whereas 'Thick As Thieves' is the 'Small Faces' for a new generation. The album's influences are as clear as day but there's such a wonderful melting pot of sounds in each new track they gradually begin to transcend any 'early doors' criticism.

I'm yet to mention 'Vlad the Impaler' or top 3 single 'Fire' until now, both highlights, but then it's not really necessary. The key to this long player isn't the 'singles', which Kasabian have always managed to pull off, its everything else in between.

This isn't, nor was it ever going to be, a lyrical masterpiece or grandiose intellectual statement, yet it is a joy to listen to. Walking through the city of London on a sunny day with 'Fire' playing through your ipod headphones, makes you feel like a superstar in your very own movie. It's not often that you can say that!

Thursday 2 July 2009

Falling off the rock 'n' roll wagon

Where do I start with Kasabian? Ever since they infiltrated my consciousness I've doubted them, championed them, slagged them off, doubted them again, though not necessarily in that order.

Why have I been so schizophrenic? As a teenager in the 90's I was in absolute awe of Oasis. They were the first band I adored and so great was my admiration, that for a long period of time I was unable to appreciate any other band fully, no matter how great they may have been. As the Mancunians invincibility wained, I still continued to worship diligently, hoping in vain that they may somehow recapture past glories.

Of course, they never have. Now, one uninspiring album after another is churned out to muted discourse and after years of disappointment, I have, thankfully, weaned myself off the band. I now freely admit their considerable flaws although still struggle not to remain in thrall to that mid 90's period where it really did feel like they were our generation's Beatles.

So with Kasabian, I feel a little like a reformed alcoholic. After a long battle with the booze, followed by some period of going 'clean', I know that abstinence must be total, the merest sniff of the 'good stuff' being enough to tip me back over into the abyss.

Initially, therefore I had no time for Kasabian, their cod Gallagher musings even their admittedly rebel-rousing tunes. Not until 'Empire' was being carried across the radio airwaves did I have to grudgingly admit there might be more to Kasabian than had first met the eye. I decided to approach their latest material with a more open mind.

I should have known that leaving the door even slightly ajar would be enough for the irresistible beats of 'Vlad the Impaler' to come crashing through and paint the walls of my mind with its brazen swagger. Hot on its heels came first single proper, 'Fire', which is defiantly unshakeable. I could feel myself falling off the wagon.

On the eve of its release, I found myself for the first time anticipating one of their albums, 'West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum'....

Thursday 25 June 2009

Top 5 - Celebrities to 'follow' on twitter

David Schneider - @davidshneider
Jimmy Carr - @jimmycarr
Jonathan Ross - @Wossy
Peter Serafinowicz - @serafinowicz
Chris Addison - @mrchrisaddison

Tuesday 23 June 2009

Vive le 'social network' revolution



Over the last few days I've obviously been pretty struck by all the goings on in Iran.

Despite the awful reality of a rigged vote and the horror of the violence and death that has resulted, the people of Iran demonstrating in their thousands has been inspirational. 'We' in the 'West' so often perceive Iran and its neighbouring countries as part of that unhelpfully termed group, "the axis of evil".

What's particularly terrible about that phrase, is that it dehumanises the people and promotes generalisation. What the demonstrations have shown us, is that despite the aggressive rhetoric of the Iranian leader, the people, en masse, are fighting against it.

Whether or not they are successful in annulling the result of the election, they have ensured sympathy from the international community, their plight giving rise to the usual raft of nonsensical but well intentioned gestures (e.g. turning your twitter avatar green!)

Also interesting though, is that it appears twitter has played an important role in coordinating the demonstrations and providing a means of getting pictures, video and audio out of the country (thus inviting this aforementioned sympathy) in the midst of a media blackout - no censorship on the old information super highway!

Quite to what extent this role has been exaggerated it's hard to tell but perhaps for the first time we have an answer to the question, "Social Networks? - What's the point?

Friday 12 June 2009

Album Review: Manic Street Preachers - Journal For Plague Lovers


*****
Whether deservedly cherished by the wider musical fraternity as one of the albums of our time is a subject for debate but at present, there's no doubting its status as the album of 2009.

If in doubt, read the lyrics left behind by missing band member Richey Edwards, absorb the artwork, consider the context in which it was written. There's so much to engage with before even hearing a single note!

When you do press play, you'll be greeted by an incarnation of the band last heard over a decade ago. Urgent, raging, acerbic, 'Peeled Apples' sets the tone for a newly energised Manics. Indeed, lead singer James Dean Bradfield described this track's musical aim as, "...trying to move the air".

I defer to John Niven when considering the lyrics of the chorus:

"Riderless horses on Chomsky's Camelot" - The most famous riderless horse used for US state funerals was Black Jack, whose oil-coloured mane swung in the cold Washington air behind the coffin of John F. Kennedy. Noam Chomsky wrote a savage critique of Kennedy's foreign policy during the Vietnam era entitled 'Rethinking Camelot.' So - military funerals, sacrifices and fallen warriors, Kennedy, Vietnam, geo-politics. All from five words of the chorus of the opening track.
Just consider whether any other writer, let alone lyricist, can condense such meaning into so few words?

This innate genius is at the heart of what makes the album a success. It has driven the need to reinvigorate, re-awaken the music. They simply have to do justice to these words.

'Jackie Collins Existential Question Time' is a short, sharp burst of kinetic energy, equal parts The La's and Nirvana (some feat to marry these two influences) and achieved in just under two and a half minutes.

On the next track, we're treated to a raucous stop-start riff and vital 'Everything Must Go' era leanings, yet it's the wit of the lyric, 'Oh the joy, me and Stephen Hawking we laughed/We missed the sex revolution when we failed the physical' that is most striking.

Richey has shed his desperate outlook and found a new lightness of touch. Simon Price, in his review for 'The Independent', acclaims this new found pathos, "Wanna know what's really scary? On this evidence, Richey Edwards was actually improving."

As a consequence, this album, although toted as a follow up to 'The Holy Bible', doesn't try to mimic the magnesium white burn of their magnum opus. Instead it finds it's own identity, where a more expansive melody is allowed to resonate.

Nowhere is this new rhetoric more evident than in the line 'It's the facts of life sunshine' from the track 'All Is Vanity'. It's an almost Morrissey like wit you can imagine the ex-Smiths front man crooning.

'Pretension/Repulsion' is another Richey treatise on beauty and exploitation and sounds more like a band trying desperately to break through rather than one now two decades into its existence. Infectious and delightful,'Virginia State Epileptic Colony's' piano solo is a welcome surprise and intriguingly juxtaposed to the theme of institutionalised routine.

It's the final track that offers the greatest surprise however. 'Williams Last Words', edited down from a page and a half of prose, will inevitably be looked upon as a form of suicide note. Nicky Wire, not only songwriting, but lending his breathless, Lou Reed vocals, conjures up the most heart wrenching of songs.

String laden, it transcends the meaning of everything the Manics have previously written, simple in its statement, "Isn't it lovely when the dawn brings the dew/I'll be watching over you". Furthermore, perhaps Richey's lasting words will be those of this quite humble wish, "I'd like to go to sleep and wake up happy."

Given the context, given the Manics, surely one of the most beautiful things you'll ever hear.

Wednesday 10 June 2009

Nasty - Nationalist - Nick


"You've got to tolerate some of the people that you hate " - Super Furry Animals (Juxtaposed With U)

I was disappointed yesterday when I saw footage of BNP leader Nick Griffin's attempts to hold a press conference outside Westminster.

Not because I have a gnat's cock of a slivering, fraction of an iota of sympathy for the man, nor his politics might I add; nor even the waste of a good egg or two (although I imagine Edwina Curry might have been having flashbacks), but because I couldn't stomach the thought of the rest of us lowering ourselves to this level.

I know the BNP's policies are unacceptable and I fully believe that their rhetoric masks what is essentially a racist attitude towards immigration and our wonderfully cosmopolitan society in the UK, yet still, we do live in a democracy.

In a democracy, even the most unsavoury of viewpoints, though not to be agreed with, must be allowed to have a voice. Freedom of speech applies in this case just as in any other.

Ridicule, ignore and pity indeed, but don't make a martyr of the man or his followers. It is certainly an unfortunate and sad state of affairs that people have felt the need to vote BNP but we must remember that in truth, this isn't so much a sign of an increasing fascist sympathy infiltrating the country, as a sign of our disappointment at the abject state of the established parties.

We are right to be outraged and upset at the BNP gaining two MEP's, and to decry their policies unequivocally, but don't let it spill over into active spite and aggression.
Here's an interesting article about what the experts make of the election results.
Is fascism on the march again?

Sunday 7 June 2009

Sands of time

Yesterday, Laura and I drove down to Camber, near Rye, on the south coast, to enjoy the sand dunes and the beach, and what turned out to be a fantastically sunny day.

My mate Ian had decided to reprise a fondly remembered trip there a few years ago in celebration of his birthday this weekend.

We lay on the sand, frolicked with a number of balls, round and odd shaped, and even took in a game of 40/40 amongst the sand dunes. For those of you not familiar with the game, in our version, it involved one team (the defenders) using a couple of cricket stumps and hiding them, while the other team (the attackers) had to steal in and snatch one of said stumps without being caught. All great fun!

The day finished with a race to the sea (by the evening a good half a mile away as the tide had retreated). We were all already 'cream-crackered' from our 40/40 exploits, but having taken part in a similar race during our previous visit, we just couldn't resist what was by now a Camber Sands tradition. (I'm almost tempted to refer to it as 'The Great Camber Sands Race', held once every 4 years, as if it were the 'World Cup' of beach racing.)

Ultimately, I think this occasion even bettered the last. It's a beautiful thing how a certain place can have so many wonderful associations. Both Laura and I agreed it would be perfect to take a young McRae junior there in years to come. I love the thought of this little bay being a fond memory for the next generation.

2005


2009

Thursday 4 June 2009

Album Review: The Horrors - Primary Colours


*****
The concept of The Horrors has always appealed. A great name, a great look, a great concept all round. The only problem was the 'concept' was all you really seemed to get. 'All style, no substance' was the cliched maxim doing the rounds but even the most sympathetic observer couldn't find much to prove otherwise.

Nonetheless, the band have regrouped, rethought and the result is actually quite astounding. On first listen, 'Primary Colours' leaves you struggling to believe this is the same band responsible for debut 'Strange House'. Graced with an aural palette of sound, this is a far cry from that album's scratchy proto-punk and strips away all previous preconceptions in an instant.

The influences are there for all to see, Neu!, The Cure etc. etc. but although many see this as cause for criticism, The Horrors should be congratulated on having drawn upon them to create a sound that allows their misanthropic rhetoric to flourish.

'Mirror's Image' bursts into life with it's distorted psychedelia and tale of temptation, resistance and 'crippling shyness', subconsciously urging the subject to, "Draw strength [and] walk on into the night". 'Who Can Say' is a triumph of scuzzy guitar and love lost, it's spoken refrain followed wonderfully by a chiming melody.

Everywhere you turn there is a more adventurous, more interesting and ultimately, more enjoyable record. You can hear echoes of Suede in the verses of 'Do You Remember' and even the Sex Pistols when it comes to 'New Ice Age'. Who cares for originality when the 'rip-offs' are this good?

'Sea Within a Sea', swooning in as the album closer, encapsulates all the best aspects of the proceeding tracks. Faris Badwan's vocals sound particularly haunting on lines such as, "...We walk alone/Bare foot on wicked stone", and by the time the song bursts into a rainbow of riffs and metronomic beats, you realise you could well be listening to a defining moment for this clutch of Shoreditch scenesters.

A triumph - scepticism's shackles have been shaken loose.

Wednesday 3 June 2009

Choice opinion (Reprise - Lowdown on downloads)

In light of my recent blog (some might say essay) on, amongst other things, music downloads and file sharing, I thought I'd post a quick link to this article that appeared on the NME Blog.

With the news that Spotify intend to stream music for mobile phones, you do wonder what this means for the last vestige of record sales through file download. Will we even bother to download music at all anymore and what will the record companies make of it all?

It's interesting to hear that sales of live tickets are on the up too. Interesting times...

Tuesday 26 May 2009

Choice opinion


A recent study by royalties body PRS has found that the increased distribution of music by file sharing sites has only helped to make the most popular acts more popular!

'File-sharing only makes big acts bigger, study shows'
'Pirated pop keeps stars popular'

This wasn't how it was supposed to be was it?! This was supposed to be the revolution that all music lovers had been waiting for. It most certainly wasn't intended to make Coldplay more popular than...oh I don't know, oxygen?!

Sites like 'MySpace' allowed such acts as Lilly Allen and the Arctic Monkeys to amass large fan bases with no more resource than a single laptop and good old fashioned word of mouth.

"Hurrah" we cried as we well and truly stuck one to the record labels. The same labels of course, who would immediately snap up these acts, now assured of their potential for shifting units.

Despite this cynicism though and the fact 'Napster' may have been closed down along with the dubious 'Pirate Bay' more recently, these relatively new developments have at least forced the record companies to find alternate ways of distributing music. This has indirectly given rise to excellent sites such as 'Last FM' and 'Spotify' where streamed music can be heard for free!

The Libertines were perhaps the first to harness the web in this way, giving access to unreleased tracks via the Internet for free and encouraging the distribution of demos and bootlegs with veritable glee.

It was Radiohead though who took this one step further, allowing fans to pay as much or as little as they liked for album 'In Rainbows', thus bypassing a record company altogether and hosting the music files for download on an independent website.

There are problems with this kind of 'giveaway' however. Radiohead were in the fortunate position of being an established act, having written some of the most heralded albums of our age and can more than afford to make such artistic statements.

Up and coming artists, struggling hard to establish themselves above the general dirge of this or that scene, don't have the luxury of releasing music for free. They need all the money they can get, often, no doubt, working numerous jobs to make ends meet and keep the bandwagon rolling.

There's a comparable situation in the world of scholarly publishing as it happens; one I'm party to in my work on technical journals. Academics and researchers in Universities and at Learned Institutions worldwide are championing 'open access' publishing whereby their research papers are made accessible freely to the scientific community rather than through the subscription seeking journal titles as was the past norm.

Academics argue, understandably, that scientific research shouldn't be restricted by these models, that making it freely accessible encourages discussion, visibility and further research.

Fair enough, you may think, an admirable cause. Consider however, the smaller, independent publishers (such as my employer the Institute of Marine Engineering, Science & Technology) not blessed with the funding of these higher education institutions. How can they maintain their business whilst supplying access to journal titles for free?

One of the more favoured models for open access is to charge the author for publishing their material, thus subsidising the free access to the paper. Again this may seem reasonable, but what of authors in developing countries, who may not be able to afford publishing costs enforced by developed world publishing groups, or the independent researcher not supported by an academic faculty and forced to fund themselves?

Would we want to exclude this type of author and restrict the amount of 'grey' literature produced in niche areas of study? Yes, we may have free access to the 'stars' of academia but we dilute diversity and restrict opportunity. Amongst other things, the most popular authors, will inevitably get more popular.

Is this what's happening in the music world? With music files shared freely and streaming services available widely, we now have access to more and more music than ever before, diversity therefore isn't being compromised. This new world certainly allows the 'grey' music on the fringes of our public conscience to find a place but clearly this isn't making much of a difference to its sales?

In the current climate, we no longer rely on traditional barometers such as 'Top of the Pops' or even a guru figure like John Peel. As a consequence there's no longer a filter in place to sort the wheat from the chaff. We have to suffer more and more utter pap in the process. I wonder, as a result, whether this actually affords us too much choice. The majority overloaded, simply opt out, preferring to stick with old stalwarts.

In 'All is Vanity, from the recently released Manic Street Preachers album 'Journal for Plague Lovers', James Dean Bradfield sings, "I would prefer no choice. One bread, one milk, one food." Nicky Wire speaking in a recent NME interview explains...

"And I mean, that still resonates with us so deeply today. The idea that there's just so much choice now, that when we apply that to music, people think it's great that there's so much music, and that's so obviously not the case because so much of it is utter drivel. And you know, too much choice in music has led to mediocrity. And I think it's that kind of idea that Richey [lyricist] liked experts. He liked people who he thought were thoroughly researched and immersed in each particular subject. And we're still like that now."

So there you have it. Whether we like it or not, we need the institutionalised means of accessing our music, our research literature, our politics even. Yes, there's a balance to strike, but ironically and subconsciously, we'd all like to be told what we think. If we didn't, opinion columnists, reviewers and art critics would be out of a job and where would that leave us?

Quite possibly we'd have to suffer endless repeats of U2 'staples' festering across the air waves, all because we wouldn't know where to start nor finish; we'd all accept defeat; worse still, we'd accept the general perception that U2 are indeed 'the greatest ever band'. Let us hope we never see the day.

Wednesday 20 May 2009

Album Review: Dark Days/Light Years - Super Furry Animals


****
The ninth album from the Welsh wizards is another joyous romp through the genres. Dark Days/Light Years is influenced by the sounds of psychedelia, glam rock, folk and Krautrock, the result of which is an intriguing hotch potch of whimsical new ditties.

SFA remain appealing as a result of their relentlessly innovation. Side projects abound and yet despite the incredible quantity of output, new material always sounds fresh and invigorating.

'Inaugural Trams' for instance. Who but the Furries would think to write a lyric based on an inner city transport system, put to a pseudo Kraftwerk beat and including a rap, in German no less, performed by a member of Franz Ferdinand? Just over 5 mins later you realise you don't really care, it's just possibly the most enjoyable piece of music you've heard this year.

'Moped Eyes' sounds like Bowie - inspired! 'Mt' is a woozy daydream so laid back it almost falls over and 'Helium Hearts' is pure pop paradise.

Personally, I miss the more liberal splashing of melody that accompanied previous album 'Hey Venus!' Nothing quite matches the beautifully melodic 'Run-away' from that album and in truth sometimes there is a little lack of impetus on some of these slow burning 'jams'. The sequencing alone breeds quite a different beast from its predecessor plus there are five tracks here well over the 5 minute mark.

On repeated listen though, more and more reveals itself. Enjoy the lyrical delights of 'I will design a town in the image of your face' or 'They say the future of cement is set in stone' both from 'Inaugural Trams'. Still the humour shines through as on past SFA records.

As a friend of mine so eloquently posted on twitter, "[Dark Days/Light Years is] a ninth consecutive return to form."