Come you Masters of Gwar

Hello,

In case you were wondering, I’m not ill or anything, I’ve just been busy at work this week, so haven’t had much time to update. I’ve also been busy helping out with rockbeatstone’s new website (coming soon…) and putting things in place for the second of my gig nights, Backstreets.

Today I am seeing the second best live band in the world today, Arcade Fire. I am very excited by this, it will be amazing.

However, tomorrow, for some unknown reason (well, a friend twisted my arm), I am going to see a band called Gwar at the Mean Fiddler in central London. In case you haven’t heard of them, here is how they are described on the venue’s website:

“The band is best known for their elaborate sci-fi/horror film inspired costumes; raunchy, obscene, politically incorrect lyrics; and graphic stage performances.”

They are on their “Europe Must Be Destroyed” leg of their “Beyond Hell 2007 World Tour”. When the term “graphic stage performances” is used it means that they cut off each other’s limbs and the crowd get drenched in fake blood. They also have a massive penis which fires fake urine and semen into the crowd. Last time my friend saw them, they opened with a freak show. This concert is going to rock like no other.

You can check out Gwar here at their website, or as they call it, ‘The Official Cyber-Fortress of Your Lords and Masters, Gwar’.

Masters of War

About the greatest gambler, you all should know him well

This weekend I had the most bizarre stroke of luck. My friend had organised a trip to a casino in central London. We used to go a lot when we were at university, and I hadn’t been since so it was good to go back. I was initially worried that the stakes were going to be too high, with a £5 minimum on black jack (my game of choice) compared to the £1 and £2 minimum’s we had at the Casinos in Newcastle. So it took me a long time to pluck up the courage to hit the table.

I took out £60 on the night, spent £20 of it in the pub (where I confidently declared that I was "feeling lucky today") and had £40 to ‘loose’. I like it this way as I know that I’ll have spent money and had a good laugh at the same time and it helps me keep it all under control. It’s easy to get carried away with these things. I started off with roulette and had a lucky streak and made my first £20 become £50. I then had a drink and some free food before returning to Roulette and managed to loose all of my profit in about ten minutes...

It was then I took the fateful decision to play the cards and I made £100! Luck was quite simply with me. I then took a break and again had a few drinks before returning to the table where I made a further £130! I was just so incredibly lucky. Everything I did was right, each decision brilliant and I had the cards in my favour. I was so amused by this situation that I even tried pushing my luck, took a card on 17 for the hell of it and got 21! Even when I was trying to loose I couldn’t.

But Casino’s in the UK are a funny thing. There’s nothing glamorous about them. They are filled with Chinese people (one player spent £300 in about 2 minutes on roulette and another had a £600 debit card transaction refused by her bank at the cashing desk) and many people who look of a dubious nature. Those dubious characters that fill smoky pubs and who all seem to make deals on their mobile phones while sipping a pint of stella.

In the London casino there were also a few people who looked like whores. I’m not kidding you, a woman who spent her time around the tables on the look-out for someone who had won it big and who had her breasts on constant display for all to see. This is about as far from the glitz and glamour of Vegas as it is possible to get.

But I guess the point I’m trying to make is that I’ve always approached gambling as a pleasant past-time which I do from time to time. This weekend I got lucky, but next time I won’t be as lucky, it’s when you’re expecting that big win to come around on the next roll of the roulette wheel, the next throw of the craps dice, the next croupier at black jack, the next roll of the slot machine that you’ve got a problem. Unfortunately, there were plenty of people in the casino at the weekend who were thinking like that. These are the people who will need help when the super-casinos come around and gambling is further liberalised.

I won't be making a trip back to the casino for a while... I'm going to enjoy the winning feeling for a long time before I return - I'll only end up loosing. It's the nature of the game. And hopefully some of those sorry sorry people in the casino will realise this soon. But I think they won't.

Ramblin', Gamblin' Willie

Where all the cars are stripped between the gates of night

Some of you may be wondering what I do for a living. Sure you’ve seen me write about music and sport, but that’s just for fun. You’ve heard about me organising a gig night – that too is just for fun.

I’m actually a mechanic during the day. Yesterday a journalist came to speak to me about my other hobby. You can read what he’s written about my life here.

Golden Loom

I'll just bid farewell till we meet again

Another Dylan post - yes I know... I promise to write about something else tomorrow.

Uncut magazine have a daily treasure trove of stuff found on YouTube. Today’s is the Bob Dylan performance of ‘Restless Farewell’ at Frank Sinatra’s 8oth birthday party. It’s an amazing performance of this song which every time I watch sends shivers down my spine and along the back of my neck.

The look on Sinatra’s face at the end is priceless, he looks like he’s had one of those life changing moments, one of those transcending Dylan moments when you can’t help but be in awe. I’ve been lucky enough to witness a few moments like these myself. He just looks like he’s seen a ghost. Dylan may never be as good a singer as Sinatra was, but I bet that at that moment in time Sinatra would have swapped his voice and all of his success for the ability to write a song only half as good as ‘Restless Farewell’.

But then after the camera pans to David Hasselhof who is trying to fight back the tears…and I laugh which is a shame as I’ve been so moved by the performance. I guess Hasselhof does weird things to you. Here’s my favourite verse from the song:

“Oh ev'ry girl that ever I've touched,
I did not do it harmfully.
And ev'ry girl that ever I've hurt,
I did not do it knowin'ly.
But to remain as friends and make amends
You need the time and stay behind.
And since my feet are now fast
And point away from the past,
I'll bid farewell and be down the line.”

Wow. That Dylan has a way with words. I think he'll make it big some day. Here's the video:



Restless Farewell

As she was walkin' by the arcade

Arcade Fire countdown: Only eight more days to go until I see the second greatest live band in the world play Brixton Academy (second only to Wilco).

I've been listening to their new album Neon Bible. Great stuff. I especially like track two: 'Keep the Car Running' and of course 'Intervention' which I first heard around Xmas time. Best line from 'Intervention' is this one by far: "They're singing hallelujah when defeating your heart".

But the album is all about mood, and there's stacks of it on Neon Bible. I'll write a proper review when I get the time and post a link to it here. Can't wait until next Thursday though, i'm stupidly excited by the prospect of seeing this band again.

See Arcade Fire play 'Intervention' on my blog

Simple Twist of Fate

Thinking about the government

Here is a wonderful colour photo of the world's most famous, and probably first, music video: 'Subterranean Homesick Blues'. This was filmed when Dylan visited the UK in 1965 and can be seen on the excellent documentary, Dont Look Back by D.A. Pennebaker. It's coming out in an expanded edition over the next few weeks in the UK. The shot was taken in the alley behind the Savoy in London where he was staying.



Subterrnanean Homesick Blues

'Bout an old man who never done wrong

So I’ve written an article on the UEFA Champions League and how it is now a crock of shite.

And I’ve received some feedback. Apparently people think that I’m a 60 year-old fart. Maybe I am in spirit but I'm certainly not in body.

Read the controversial article now.


Man on the Street

Boys in the street beginning to play

So my gig night (Backstreets at the Windmill) got underway to a flying start. We were lucky with the last minute addition of Prinzhorn Dance School and unlucky with the rain. But overall I think everyone had fun. The night was part of an idea to promote the magazine I write for, Rockbeatstone.

It was incredibly stressful at the start…technical problems meant a delayed start but we managed to make up time pretty quickly. First on was Adam Killip from my favourite London based band, the Tailors. He did a solo set of bittersweet songs, some hilarious, some just simply moving. A brilliant and genuine guy, his band’s record is out today. I think all of you should look this band up they’re great. I’d also like to thank him as without him none of this would have been possible.

Elks were on next and they simply rocked the place. Including a grand finale where the guitar player moved into the crowd. They certainly were getting into it with passion battling jet lag and illness at the same time. Red Fishes were on after Elks and they too played an amazing set, Chaz, singer and guitarist is a great Bob Dylan fan and we spoke about our passion for his music at length after the show. They’re playing some gigs in April around London so please do go and see them if you have the chance.

The Furies are possibly the most rock and roll guys I’ve ever met. They spent much of the soundcheck time chatting up any female in the room. I’ve got a brilliant picture with one of them winking while he has his arm around my mate Steve’s fiancée. They quite simply rocked. They’ve certainly got the attitude down to a tee. ‘Money’ is a great rock and roll song too.

Finally, Prinzhorn Dance School, those last minute additions came to the stage. Another great set from them, they were using this as a warm-up to their night at the Astoria with LCD Soundsystem and for a Saturday night gig at Scala. Some great guys, the girl bass-player (I can’t remember her name) seems to be too sweet for rock and roll! A lovely girl, I just hope the industry doesn’t destroy her. Very friendly and chatty, she seemed to be so excited and thanked me for letting them play by giving me a massive and unexpected hug which just felt lovely. There are some people who are just great at giving hugs!

Finally, Rockbeatstone contributors Jamie and Will played a DJ set into the early hours of the morn which included ‘Power of Love’. I hated it (the song, not the rest of their set) but I’m glad that the entire room seemed to be dancing along. A great set from these first time DJs and I'd like to publicly thank them.

At the end of the night, I was sitting with a beer, lost in my own thoughts at the ridiculousness of it all. There were couples left/right/centre getting off with each other which made me laugh. Perhaps my gig night started some meaningful romances. Or maybe it just helped a few people have some drunken fun? But I couldn't help but feel proud looking at all the people having fun around me.

I certainly never felt that I could have done this a few months ago. My thoughts about this came out of the blue, it was just something that I felt I wanted to do and I just buckled down and organised it. Although stressful I had the best feeling after the night was up. I felt on top of the world and to be honest it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that.

Here’s to the next night, when I’ve recovered slightly and thought about who I’d like to play. I hope you can make it next time. Finally, thanks to the Windmill for trusting me to put on my gig night!

'Till I fell in Love With You

Things fall to pieces in my face

There is a new album by Wilco called Blue Sky Blue coming out in May. They're playing Shepherds Bush Empire on May 20th and i'll be there. I just can't miss this band coming to London. As I've probably written here before, they are one of my favourite live bands in the world.

You can hear some of the new songs here. 'You Are My Face' is amazing. I think you'll agree that these sound absolutely glorious, possibly some of the best songs of the last I don't know how many years. The lyrics to 'You Are My Face' are below. I feel like crying at the beauty of it all.

Fuck me, I'm emotional today. Maybe I'm having a male time of the month thing.


YOU ARE MY FACE

I remember my mother's sister's husband's brother
Working in the gold mine, full time, filling in for sunshine
Filing in to tight lines, ordinary beehives

The door screams i hate you, hate you
Hanging 'round my blue jeans
Why is there no breeze?
No currency of leaves
No current through the water while
No feelings i can see

I trust no emotion
I believe in locomotion
I've turned to rust, as we've discussed
Though I must have let you down too many times
In the dirt and the dust

[Guitar]

I have no idea how this happens
All of my maps have been overthrown
Happenstance has changed my glance
So many times, my heart has been outgrown

Now everybody's feeling all alone
Can't tell you who I am
When everybody's feeling all alone
Can't tell you who I am

[Guitar]

I am looking forward
Toward the shadows chasing bones
My face is stitched and sewing
Our houses hemmed into homes
Trying to be thankful

Our stories fit into phones
And our voices lift so easily, a gift given accidentally
When we're not sure we're alone

Everything is Broken

The cracked bells and washed-out horns

The organisation of my gig night (Backstreets at the Windmill, Friday 2nd March, 8pm) took a surprising turn when some people called Prinzhorn Dance School said that they wanted to play.

They're on DFA Records (Hot Chip, LCD Soundsystem) and they're warming up for their UK tour with LCD Soundsystem by playing a "secret" gig at Backstreets! They're currently causing quite a buzz on the UK music scene. It should be a great set from these boyos.



So the line-up is now as follows:

Prinzhorn Dance School
The Furies
The Red Fishes
Elks
Adam from the Tailors

More information can be found on the Rockbeatstone newsblog. I hope to see some of you henotbusybeingbornisbusydying readers at the Windmill on Friday!


I Want You

Crying like a fire in the sun

I'm quite excited that i'm lucky enough to be able to go and see Arcade Fire twice in the space of a week in a couple of weeks time. Here's a video of them on the American TV programme Saturday Night Live playing 'Intervention'. I can't wait... they are amazing live and it's been nearly two years since I saw them for the first and only time.



It's All Over Now Baby Blue

When they tried to strangle Larry...

I don’t know why I love Curb Your Enthusiasm so much. It’s probably because it makes me laugh…but that’s the simple answer. I guess I like it because the protagonist (Larry David) plays an extreme version of himself. A man who questions everything, who hates being in the wrong and who ponders about the little things in life. Just like Seinfeld (the previous show he worked on), it’s a show about “nothing”. I also love it because the script is about 10 pages long per episode and most of the dialogue is improvised. In Curb, Larry asks important questions, such as is it only black muslims who ware bow ties? Why is it alright to say ‘fuck’ or ‘dick’ but not ‘cunt’? Why can’t you congratulate a father on the size of his son’s manhood?

I guess somewhere deep inside of me, I want to be that person. Here’s a quote and the clip from my favourite episode. Larry scores pitchside seats for basketball and manages to ingure Shaquille O’Neil. All of Los Angeles hates him, but his life changes for the better and everything works out fine for him. In this clip he goes to Starbucks and mocks their pretentious coffee. Brilliant stuff.

Larry: “What's in this latte?”
Starbucks employee: “Milk and coffee”
Larry: “Oh my God. Milk and coffee. I never would have thought of that. That's so brilliant”.
Larry: “I'll have a vanilla... one of those vanilla bullshit things. You know, whatever you want, some vanilla bullshit latte cappa thing. Whatever you got.”

Joey

Drinkin' too many kegs

Jesus Christ do I feel bad today.

Here's a hint: never stay up drinking cocktails until 3am on a school night.

Here's another hint: This is the best band in the world right now (Thanks to Will for the three month heads up). Listen to the song 'Stuck Between Stations' first. Best song ever.

Listen to me and you'll have a healthier lifestyle and good taste in music.

Please Mrs Henry

Let your hair hang low

As you will all know, Britney Spears has gone mental and shaved all of her hair off.

Some brilliant entrepreneur is now selling an original lock of her hair on ebay.

Happy bidding.

Alberta

When He returns

I am a trend setter. I've been banging on about Springsteen here and to my friends for ages now ... at last other people are realising. From the very brilliant Guardian journalist John Harris:

"It is time, I fear, to temporarily stop playing retro one-upmanship and place all those CDs by Can, Gang of Four and Albert Ayler to one side. Never mind that the man himself is currently coming over all folksome and keeping his classic incarnation at arm's length: 2007 is the year of the long-delayed Bruce Springsteen revival. By the summer - just maybe, anyway - boom-boxes at Glastonbury will be soundtracking warm afternoons with repeat-plays of Darkness on the Edge of Town, while callow students realise that now him from the Kooks has claimed that "It's almost impossible not to be influenced by Nick Drake", it's time to move in exactly the opposite direction, strap your hands across the nearest available engines, and put on Born to Run."

Read the complete article here.

When he Returns

With twenty pounds of headlines stapled to his chest

I may have spoken about this before, but for my work I need to read the Daily Express everyday. It truly is one of Britain’s worst newspapers. Not only in terms of it’s political point of view, but also in terms of quality. The writers are rubbish, the columnists are awful, the layout is cheap, the sports coverage is pitiful.

Everyday they have a question to which readers can phone in their point of view. These are always simple questions with ‘Yes/No’ answers. Today’s question was particularly brilliant:

Is Britain going to the dogs?

YES: 0901 031 1501 or text DXVOTE A to 82100
NO: 0901 031 1502 or text DXVOTE B to 82100

I’ve included the phone numbers so you too can participate in this important exercise in democracy.

Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again

Odds and Ends

I received a huge amount of hits on my post yesterday about Bob Dylan’s love songs because I submitted it to Expecting Rain, the only website worth visiting for news on Bob Dylan. There were quite a few comments and suggestions. I had, of course, forgotten about some amazing songs that I could have included, including ‘Tomorrow is a Long Time’. I don’t know why but I did completely forget this song but I should have included it in my list. Listen to it here and read some of the lyrics below.

“There's beauty in the silver, singin' river,
There's beauty in the sunrise in the sky,
But none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty
That I remember in my true love's eyes.
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',
Only if she was lyin' by me,
Then I'd lie in my bed once again.”

Thanks to the people who commented and made some suggestions of songs that I had omitted. There are loads of other songs that I could have added, including, ‘Wedding Song’, ‘You’re Gonna’ Make Me Lonesome When You Go’, ‘If You See Her, Say Hello’ and all of the other songs off Blood on The Tracks. ‘She’s Your Lover Now’, the song from which I took the title of my post, could also have been included, ‘Love is Just a Four-Letter Word’, as well as the beautifully sad poetry that is ‘To Ramona’. I could spend all day listing his amazing “love” songs. So I won’t. But I will be listening to some of these songs tonight.

Odds and Ends

Love is just a four-letter word

Topical one for today. May I wish all lovers a nice Valentine’s day. I hope that it is better than mine (I’ll be spending it in the pub doing manly things like drinking beer and watching football and generally trying to forget that I exist).

One of the reasons why I am in awe of Bob Dylan as a performer and songwriter is his amazing skill at writing love songs. Although he is probably most famous for songs like 'Blowin' in the Wind' and 'Like a Rolling Stone', it's the love songs that have always been special for me. We’re not talking about boyband love songs here but proper love songs. Songs that deal with joy, pain, and emotion. In fact he doesn’t really write "love songs" as such, he deals with the entire range of emotions that accompany love. And it seems quite obvious to me that for him love is more than a four-letter word.

Below, I’ve outlined some of my favourite love songs by Bob Dylan and why I think that they are so special.

The "I love you" song – ‘Love Minus Zero/No Limit’
“My love she speaks like silence,
Without ideals or violence,
She doesn't have to say she's faithful,
Yet she's true, like ice, like fire.
People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can't buy her.”

My favourite Dylan love song of them all. His singing is just so sweet on this. The words on a literal level mean absolutely nothing at all – but when you hear it you understand completely what he’s on about. If you don’t understand this song then you’ve probably never been in love and should take a long, hard look at yourself and your life in the mirror... and maybe split up from your lover. From the brilliant album Bringing It All Back Home. Listen to it here.


The "I love you and want to sleep with you" song – ‘Lay, Lady, Lay’
“Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Why wait any longer for the world to begin
You can have your cake and eat it too
Why wait any longer for the one you love
When he's standing in front of you”

Dylan is a man like anyone else and he has needs. This song was written to get women into bed. Pure and simple. This is the song equivalent of Rohypnol. From his country record, Nashville Skyline. Listen to it here.


The "I love you but you’re far away" song - 'Boots of Spanish Leather'
“Oh, but if I had the stars from the darkest night
And the diamonds from the deepest ocean,
I'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss,
For that's all I'm wishin' to be ownin'.”

It’s a song about a love who has gone away. All the protagonist wants is a kiss from his lover, but she’s only offering gifts in return. He ultimately realises that his muse will not come home and then accepts a gift, not of silver or gold, but of Spanish boots made of Spanish leather. To think that he was in his early 20s when he wrote this gives me the chills. From his career changing album, The Times They Are A-Changin'. Listen to it here.


The "I am so in love with you" song – ‘I Want You’
“The guilty undertaker sighs,
The lonesome organ grinder cries,
The silver saxophones say I should refuse you.
The cracked bells and washed-out horns
Blow into my face with scorn,
But it's not that way,
I wasn't born to lose you.
I want you, I want you,
I want you so bad, Honey, I want you.”

Poetic images which by right shouldn’t be included in a love song merely add to this song for me. It’s a great, happy song, with brilliant musical backing and Dylan’s vocals are all velvety and warm. A song that I’ve always listened to when I’ve fallen in love with someone, it’s all about that initial burst of happiness and that weird exaltation and energy that new love brings. Available on the best album of all time, Blonde on Blonde. Listen to it here.


The "I love you but I hate you" song – ‘Idiot Wind’
“I been double-crossed now for the very last time and now I'm finally free,
I kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me.
You'll never know the hurt I suffered nor the pain I rise above,
And I'll never know the same about you, your holiness or your kind of love,
And it makes me feel so sorry.”

Possibly the best song on hatred born out of love, this is pure poetic bile (I used that in my description on an editorial on break-up albums for Rockbeatstone). This was released on Blood on the Tracks. I love this song, pure anger followed by a final recognition that both parties had been stupid. I wouldn’t have wanted to have been Dylan’s wife when this song made itself known to her. What must she have been thinking? The mind boggles. Listen to it here.


The "I love you and miss you" song: ‘You’re a Big Girl Now’
“I'm going out of my mind, oh, oh,
With a pain that stops and starts
Like a corkscrew to my heart
Ever since we've been apart”

Also taken from Blood on the Tracks, the best break-up album of all time. Not much to say about this one. You have to listen to it to understand the pain that Dylan expresses. It’s just so lovely and sad all at the same time. Will make you cry if you’ve recently split up with a loved one – guaranteed. It’s possibly one of the most moving popular songs ever written. Listen to it here.


The "I used to love you where are you now" song: ‘Shooting Star’
“Seen a shooting star tonight
And I thought of me.
If I was still the same
If I ever became what you wanted me to be
Did I miss the mark or
Over-step the line
That only you could see?
Seen a shooting star tonight
And I thought of me”

From Oh Mercy. One of Dylan’s most underrated songs. A simple ballad, you can imagine him playing this song to himself around the fire on a camping trip. He ponders a former lover, wonders whether he ever did become the person that she wanted him to be, whether she ‘broke through’ to become someone else. A stunningly beautiful song, I always like seeing this one in concert. It seems to be Dylan’s ode to former lovers and one that makes me feel all melancholy and blue. Listen to it here.


The “I hate loving you” song: - ‘Love Sick’
“I'm walking through streets that are dead
Walking, walking with you in my head
My feet are so tired, my brain is so wired
And the clouds are weeping"

From Time Out of Mind. A brilliant song that shows that Dylan still has what it takes to write a killer love song in his later years. He’s sick and tired of being in love with a person who doesn’t seem to want to return the favour and he just can't get her out of his head. It's as if he's saying that he's too old for this but he just can't act in anyother way. This was used in the infamous underwear advert for Victoria’s Secret. Listen to it here.

Love is Just a Four Letter Word

I glanced at my guitar

So on Saturday, as well as seeing the Hunter S. Thompson photo exhibition, I also went to Harrods for the first time in my life to visit the Harrods Rocks! Guitar exhibition.

First of all Harrods is a horrible place. It was full of Italian tourists, not really knowing why they were there, or indeed having the money to buy anything in the shop (seeing as the shop seem to be selling everything under the sun, almost all of which would be cheaper in sunny Italy, why would you bother with Harrods?).

So I spent about twenty minutes trying to find out where the hell this exhibition was. The shop is like a labyrinth and it is done on purpose so you don’t find the exit and can’t leave. I’m sure that some of those tourists had been there since 1983. So after walking in circles through the perfume section and then the baggage section, I finally found a sign indicating that the exhibition was on the second floor.

I used the escalator, but not just any escalator – it was the ‘Dodi and Diana’ escalator, probably the tackiest tribute to the “People’s Princess” (© Tony Blair, UK Prime Minister & warmonger) ever. Basically it is an escalator that allows you to access the upper-floors (wow!) and it has the last glass that Diana drank from behind some glass at the foot of it. I nearly cried. No really I nearly did, but I think it was the over-bearing smell from the perfume and cosmetic sections piercing through my eyes and nasal passage.

Eventually, after riding Dodi and Diana for what seemed like years, I got to the second floor and the exhibition proper. There were loads of guitars on display. Some musicians had painted and decorated guitars for the display including Bono. There were also some signed guitars by Keith Richards, Bo Diddley and one signed by Jimi Hendrix, guitar legend (© music writers everywhere). There were also lots of custom made guitars in weird shapes and sizes and these were interesting too.

Perhaps the highlight was the world’s first electric guitar, a 1931 Rickenbacker 'Frying Pan'. It is the first time that this has been on display outside of the USA. They also had all the classic guitars, like Fenders from the 1960s.


Harrods were also putting on a series of musical events at the show. When I chose to visit on Saturday afternoon, I was lucky enough to be there for an appearance by Rick Parfitt, the guitarist from Status Quo. There were many fifty year old men with comedy mullets and perms waiting for him to grace the stage. When the compere came out and told me that he’d be performing, I quickly tried to made an exit. Although this being Harrods it was extremely difficult.

On the way out I also managed to catch a glimpse of Ron Wood’s paintings which were on display. He had some pictures of the Stones members which were really cool. There were also some amazing rock photos from Reuters, although quite why they included Robbie Williams in their photo-display is beyond me - has he ever picked up a guitar?

I found the lift and managed to leave without hearing any Status Quo. The guitars will now be moving onto Dublin and Paris. So if you live in those fair cities, you’ll have a chance to see these wonderful guitars too.

Eternal Circle

To dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free

Hunter S Thompson is one of my favourite writers of all time and possibly the best journalist ever. And although many will dismiss his drug-fuelled rants as just that, there was always a cutting edge to his writing and his political discourse in the 1970s. He really brought out the corruption, lies and deceit that dominated that era’s politics and society in America in a time before there was the internet and blogging to do that.

So I was very excited when I read that Hunter S. Thompson’s personal photos were going to be shown in an exhibition in London.

I’ve nicked these photos off the website to the gallery which first showed this material in Los Angeles. I wanted to buy them all but at £2,000 a pop, it was a little expensive for me. Still I haven’t checked my lottery numbers yet and if I do win a massive jackpot then I’m taking a taxi and purchasing some of these photos straight away. [Update: I’ve just checked my Saturday numbers and lost, so I’ll have to wait until Wednesday]

What I liked most about his colour photos was the fact that they seemed old, yet still vivid. There were some great large prints such as this one of his then wife Sandy and his dog at Big Sur in California (immortalised forever in Kerouac’s book of the same name). It’s brilliant in that it immortalises the 1960s with a love & peace hippy thing going on and in complete contrast a nasty, violent dog - more reminiscent of how Hunter viewed the times. The second photo is Hunter going fishing with guns, as one did in the sixties.

I loved this one below. It’s a shame that the internet can’t portray the real beauty of this photo on a small screen. Tijuana Street. The light is amazing and the pastel colours of those early 1960s American cars really stood out. If I could buy one then I think it would be this one. I don’t know why really, it just really stood out and I examined this one in detail and went back for a second look before I left. It just struck me and I can't explain why which is what all good art should do.


There were also some great photos of Hunter’s pals the Hell’s Angels. His first successful book was about his time spent with the Angels and there are very few photos of these guys, so it's interesting to finally put faces to people that previously we'd only read about.



There were many self-portraits, the one I used at the start of this blog post stood out for me. The one below that is the cover to the Rum Diaries, his first book which was rejected for publication at the time but was later released in the 1990s. It is perhaps my favourite Hunter S Thompson book.

All in all it was a great exhibition and one which you should all go and see if you are in London. It runs until the 10th March at the Michael Hoppen Gallery, just off Kings Road. The photos have been collected in a brilliant book entitled Gonzo which is available from Ammo Books for a cool $300. I want to buy it but will have to wait for the paperback (they probably never will release a cheap version for us plebs, but one can always wish for these things).

I also went to see the Harrods Rocks! guitar exhibition at the weekend. I’ll tell you all about that tomorrow.

Mr Tambourine Man

With music in my ears

Walking around London at lunch today I started thinking about what music I listen to while I walk. The iPod has revolutionised the way we now ‘consume’ music. With thousands of albums at our fingertips, we can with a few touches of the wheel select whatever music we have to fit our mood. Here are some of my favourite records to listen to depending on my mood.

If I’m going to be in some sort of delicate social situation or if I’ve got an important meeting or presentation at work I always find that a blast of Exile on Main Street does the trick. Their music just pumps you up and makes you want to dance along the pavement. You cannot help but pound the floor with a spring in your step. From the opening riff of ‘Rocks’ and Jagger’s amazing ‘Ohh Yeahhhh’ to the last track, ‘Soul Survivor’, it’s the Stones at their very best. This also works with Sticky Fingers and Let it Bleed by the way. It just psyches me up for the day and never fails me in this respect.

Whenever I listen to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, I immediately become introverted and more aware of the sights around me. There is nothing better than sticking YHF on your iPod and melting away to become just another an anonymous office worker. It feels as if I’ve become invisible and that I am watching the madness unfolding around me with a critical eye. It works especially well on foggy and cold mornings. It's a great album to listen to when one's in that particular mood.

Finally, I like to listen to Tom Waits’ recent collection Orphans (expect a review of it on Rockbeatstone soon). An amazing album, it also has the YHF effect of making you feel that you’re watching the world and that no one can see you, however the sheer insanity of what Waits is wailing into your headphones makes you feel like you’re on some bizarre Hunter S Thompson inspired journey. The pavement becomes a circus or a weird carnival. It makes you stop and think about how truly mad the world really is and notice all those little bizarre things that seem to happen for no real reason. I must be walking around with a twisted grin on my face when I listen to this on my iPod.

But what do other people listen to on their iPods? I wish someone would invent some kind of bluetooth thing that could attach itself to my iPod and would let me know what the other commuters are listening to. It might make for some interesting musical choices and it would also act as a ‘cool filtre’, allowing me to immediately assess whether someone is cool or not. I always try and catch a glimpse of whatever track it is people are playing when they bring their iPods out to change songs. I've noticed that it's almost always Coldplay, Kylie or Madonna if they're a young woman.

Do you have any favourite albums or tracks that you listen to more than most on your iPod?

Went to See the Gypsy

You've been avoiding the main streets for a long, long while

I've been pretty busy organising a band night for Rockbeatstone. It will be called "Backstreets" and will feature some pretty exciting bands. I'm going to use this blog to shamelessly plug the night. In other website news, we shall shortly be having a revamp of the site with some exciting new features, or at least slightly modified features and some different colours.

But back to the band night. Backstreets will take place on Friday 2nd March at the Windmill in Brixton. Entrance is £4 and the doors are 8pm. It will be fun, so if you're in London and unsure what to do then please do come down. Here is the line-up, and I will also be playing some records if I find the time.

The Furies

Elks

The Red Fishes

Adam from the Tailors (solo)






Something's Burning Baby

The world's being slaughtered and it's such a bloody disgrace

Today in London it is 11 degrees. It is the 2nd of February.

That’s all I need to know that our weather patterns are fucked up and that it is probably due to climate change.

Still some scientists (mainly ones whose funding is controlled by large oil companies) are still in denial about it and many suggest that it is a natural phenomena.

However, today the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) concluded in its fourth report that it is more than 90% certain that climate change is happening due to human activity.

So really there’s no reason to deny that it is happening, nor that it is our fault. But what can we do? Many people are religious in their green fervour, it is the new trendy thing to be seen to be doing, however, they then take six short-haul flights a year to Manchester or Paris or Brussles or wherever. The only conclusion that I have reached is that we are fucked. It’s far too late to do anything serious about it and half the world is entering a new industrial revolution.

I cannot be anything but a pessimist about this issue. I’m sorry. It is more than likely that my generation’s grandchildren will have a worse standard of living than previous generations. And surely as a human race isn’t that a bit sad?

It’s a bit like the Middle Ages coming after the Roman Empire – bizarre frankly. Still I’m sure that there are still scientists disputing the IPCC and that we’ll hear all from them over the next few days. Doesn’t do much good for their future grandchildren though does it?

Cat's in the Well

The tempest may howl and the loud thunder roar

Here is Bruce Springsteen playing 'Thunder Road' from the Hammersmith Apollo 1975 concert. You can watch the whole concert on the bonus DVD to the special 30th anniversary edition of Born to Run. It's an incredible song and an amazing performance. Truly astounding. It's my favourite version of the song. It's a slower, more melancholic and moving take than the album version. Unless you have a heart of stone, you will be moved by this performance.



I'm not the only one who likes this song. Here's Damon Gough, aka Badly Drawn Boy playing a cover of 'Thunder Road'. BDB loves the Boss so much that his last album was called Born in the UK.



I don't know what it is about this song, but it enters your skin. I know of people who've said that 'Thunder Road' has changed their lives. The feelings and emotions that this song awakens inside is something that can't be explained. It has many tangled meanings but for me it's a song about love, youth, hope and honesty. If there was only one song that I could take to a desert island, it would be this one. And i'd listen to it all the time and never get bored.

There are loads more versions of the song on YouTube. Check 'Em out for yourselves.

Lone Pilgrim

He had twenty-seven children, yet he never had a wife

What is it with this country?

Not to detract from the seriousness of the issue of gay couples adopting, but it has become a massive issue in the UK over the last few days.

But what about more important things, like a little thing called “war”. It amazes me that we can spend column inches upon column inches in the newspapers debating this, that, or the other, but the larger issues remain largely unspoken of as the public has bored of them.

The real reason why this has become an issue is the rise of the fundamentalist Christians in the UK. Copying tactics used in the US by similar groups over there, they have made issues out of Jerry Springer the Opera, abortion and now gay adoption. These are all issues which merit some attention and debate but let’s not go overboard. Let’s just say that they have some very good PR people who are able to create outrage at the drop of the hat.

Some of these organisations are completly insane. As an aside, in America they have an organisation which has decided to list all of the bands which propagate gay issues, so you can choose to not buy their records. Great. Somewhat surprised by the inclusion of Wilco, but hey they do criticise Bush, so it's all the same. Check out the list here. Nice question mark around Morrissey, which did make me laugh.

Anyway back to the issue. I predict that we’ll see a rise in this kind of thing in the UK with the Christian groups stating that we are fundamentally a Christian society (despite the fact that hardly anyone goes to church anymore) and using more and more Americanised PR-tactics to a media which laps it all up. But it’s all a false debate – most of the country don’t really care, and see no problem in gay couples adopting.

I mean Iraq is nearly at civil war, Afghanistan is still a mess, Osama Bin Laden remains at large and we’ve not even touched on North Korea, Iran or Zimbabwe, but the debate on gay adoption goes on and on.

My views on this issue are that gay couples should be allowed to adopt. There are too many orphans who don’t find any home that surely it would be better if they were in a family, however unconventional that you may find that unit. So it could be viewed as a common-sense argument, not a moral one. And I mean no offence to gay people, but seeing as around 6% of the UK is gay, and not all of them in a relationship, how can this dominate the news for days on end? It's all because of a bunch of nutters hell-bent on returning society to a time and place which no longer exists, and one which I think didn’t even exist in the first place.

Rambling, Gambling Willie

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle 'til the moon is blue

WARNING: You must be over 18 to read this blog post.

I received a very nice package from a freind today which had some books in it. One of them is called What's Left? How Liberals lost their Way by Nick Cohen. It looks very interesting about how the left have been apologising for militant Islam. Not sure that i'll agree with everything he says, but I'm sure that it will raise some interesting questions. The other book looks even more interesting however. It is called Ron Jeremy - The hardest (working) Man in Showbiz. It is the autobiography of porn's most famous star, Ron Jeremy.

Many of you won't know much about him, but you'd probably recognise him. He's starred in over 1,750 films (including mainstream film roles) and had sex with over 4,000 women. He was also on the Farm, the shortlived channel 5 programme where celebrities are put onto a farm. If you remember Rebecca Loos had to wank off a pig live on air.

But back to the porno star's book. I can't wait to read this, it looks extremely funny. Here are some quotes from the book that i've randomly selected from the page randomly chosen. I promise that I just opened the book and took a quote from the chosen page.

There are some critics who might question the logic of combining comedy and pornography. Is that really what porn consumers are looking for anyway? Is it possible to laugh and jerk off at the same time? And even if it is would you want to?

I have paid for sex only once in my life, and it was all Charlie Sheen’s fault.

I’ve had sex with more than 4,000 women in my life, but I have been in love with only five of them.

What do three US presidents, two prime ministers and Winston Churchill, Mother Theresa, the Dalai Lama and I have in common? […] We’ve all lectured at Oxford University.

After reading those random quotes, I'm sure that you'll agree that this book could quite possibly be one of the funniest autobiographies of all time. I can't wait to start reading it. It is perhaps not a book to get out on the tube however. Maybe it's one to keep at home. I'll write a review here when I've finished the book.

Wiggle Wiggle

The hour when the ship comes in

Two news stories have caught my eye today. The first is that a load of people are going mental and are “scavenging” for goods which have washed up ashore a beach in Devon, southern England. The MSC Napoli, which is shipwrecked, has dropped around 200 of its 2,000 containers into the sea. According to the BBC, hundreds are walking up and down the beach taking goods including BMW motorbikes, nappies, engine parts, wine, and airbag parts.

I like the way it has been described as "salvaging" and “scavenging”. It is more than this, it is "greed", pure and simple. It’s like when there are riots and people take the opportunity of smashing in shop windows to steal TVs and Hi-Fis. “Theft” would be a better word to describe what’s going on. Only a few days after Big Brother showed that we are a nation of racist bullies, we are now proving that we’re opportunistic thieves as well.

The other story that caught my eye comes right from the opposite moral spectrum. Abbé Pierre died yesterday aged 94. Most of you won’t know who he was, unless you’re French of course. Think of him as the French equivalent of Mother Theresa. He was a hero of the resistance helping Charles de Gaulle’s brother to escape the Germans and countless Jews escape to Switzerland. He himself escaped Gestapo torture during the war.

But he is famous for more than that. In 1954 he stormed into Radio Luxembourg’s studios and stole the microphone from a bemused presenter. He then issued a plea on behalf of the homeless after a three month old infant died on a bus and a mother died on a Parisian boulevard clutching an eviction notice in her hands. Millions of francs poured in and hundreds of second hand goods (such as furniture) and food were donated. His appeal caught the mood of the country and brought to the forefront the scandal that was homelessness in post-war France. The outcry lead to the French government announcing plans to build 12,000 basic homes for the most poor.

He was immensely popular, winning year after year the title of France’s most popular man. He only stopped winning it when he declared himself out of the race. In many respects he represented the best of the Catholic Church and campaigned against the Church’s stance on homosexuality, contraception and priesthood chastity. He even told Jean Marie Le Pen, the leader of far right party the Front National, to “shut up”. In public. Twice. “To be racist is to invest in the wrong kind of anger”, he would later write.

He set up the Emmaus movement which became an international charity. It helped thousands of homeless and poor people across Europe. The first Emmaus house was his own home. He opened up his door to the homeless and let them build make-shift shelters in his garden and sleep in his Parish home’s spare rooms. He was champion of the cause of homelessness and used his fame to highlight the issue for over fifty years.

He believed that the rich should do more for the poor than tokenism, but that the poor needed to help themselves out of poverty. “To fight for my own bread may be materialism. To fight for bread for others is the beginning of spirituality,” he wrote.

I wonder what he would have said at the sight of over 200 British people “salvaging” whatever treasure has washed up on the beach in Devon? It’s quite obviously materialism at its worst and most disgusting.



When the Ship Comes In

With music in my ears

2006 was a great year for music. But 2007 will be better:

In March there’s the new Arcade Fire, Neon Bible. Then there’s the new Arctic Monkeys coming out. In April we’ve got the new Maximo Park album , in May the new Wilco Blue-Sky Blue of which I am very excited.

There’s also The Shins second offering, Radiohead’s new album, the Smashing Pumpkins reunion record and Black Rebel Motorcycle’s fourth album.

Loads to look forward to. Rock on kids.

Went to see the Gypsy

But I did not trust my brother

There is only one story in the UK at the moment: Big Brothergate. It seems as if the entire country has now (finally) turned on Jade (and Danielle and Jo) who have been bullying India's most famous Bollywood star. There has even been a hint of racism, throwing a spanner in the works of the theory that Britain is a tolerant multi-cultural society. Christ it's been front page of the broadsheets and Gordon Brown and Tony Blair have been asked for their opinion on the matter. Even Will got all worked up about the issue.

The massive outcry has lead me to watch the highlights programme with Russell Brand. I previously never appreciated his humour but in the last two episodes he has, without prompting, quoted verbatim from speeches by Churchill and Solzhenitsyn's books, which surprised me. Of course he then spoiled it by following it up with a penis joke, but it leads me to believe that there is more to this guy than a hair style and a history of tabloid romps. He quite obviously is very clever and should host Question Time. Seriously, it would get the kids interested in politics again. Maybe.

Back to the Big Brothergate issue though, if they had followed my mate's suggestion, then it all of this could have been avoided. Still the massive furore will mean millions will vote to evict Jade the racist bully and Channel 4 will make an estimated £2 million profit from the text votes. In many ways Channel 4 is worse than the playground bully who beats up kids for their lunch money.

Afternoon update: BB has announced that all proceeds from the vote will go to charity and that there will be no crowd at the eviction. It seems like Jade will be getting off lightly without a public boo-fest. This is such a shame.

I Am a Lonesome Hobo

My age it means less

[Insert sound of trumpet fan fare here]

My blog is one year old. On January 17th 2005 I took the monumental decision to start chronicling my life and talk a load of rubbish over the Internet. This may have been a mistake on my part but it has been a lot of fun. Also it's good to know that my thoughts are now being recorded for posterity's sake thanks to the Internet. Maybe one day thousands of years from now cultural historians will delve into the archive of blogs and choose mine as the perfect example for school kids to understand what a blog was? Perhaps scholars will write long articles about my musings and why I chose to write what I did. Who knows, only time will tell.

All I know is that I've been getting around 150 unique hits a week, which is very nice and makes me feel good. I'm also very glad seeing as I don't have 150 friends in real life, so there are some random Internet acquaintances and people who have happened here by chance reading this tripe.

What follows are my personal blogging highlights, I hope that you enjoy reading or re-reading some of the rubbish I've been spouting here for over a year now. Please note that the formatting on some of the older posts may be askew due to the fact that since then I have changed templates.

It all started with my very first post. Not much has changed since then, although as I don't have a girlfriend anymore, so I can no longer claim that she is one of my passions. Which is sad, but hey that's the way the cookie crumbles.

My favourite post of January was my diatribe against electric peppercorn grinders. I still think that they are completely useless. In February I ranted against the Winter Olympics, which again I still find dull, so very dull. I nearly entered into a coma at the weekend by accidentally catching a few minutes of Ski Sunday on BBC.

In March I went on the holiday of a lifetime to Vietnam and taunted you readers about my trip with some pictures. It was an amazing trip, one which I will never forget. I don't think I've ever been so happy than when I was in Hoi An. I absolutely loved Vietnam and its people, I don't know why I didn't tell you more about it. Maybe I just wanted to keep those thoughts and memories special and close to my heart. They certainly will remain close to my heart for the rest of my life.

In April, David Beckham announced that he had OCD and used the opportunity to plug one of his products that he gets paid to promote. I was disgusted. No doubt we will find out more about his OCD when he is playing in America at LA Galaxy. Staying on the football theme, in May, Sven Goran Ericksson, then England manager, went a bit mental and chose Theo Walcott in the England team for the World Cup. Read what I thought about that. The tournament proved that he was a complete buffoon in his team selection.

In June, I got a bit excited about the new series of the Sopranos coming on our British screens and tried to explain why it is the best drama on television. In July I laughed and laughed when I read this Woody Allen quote. I still laugh when I read it now. In August I wrote about Coca Cola Zero and their brilliant marketing techniques. September was the anniversary of 911 and I tried to write about my experiences of that day and how they related to interpretations of Bob Dylan's album Love & Theft (which was released on September 11 2001).

In October, I wrote a few things but this one stands out. This post was from the saddest week of my life so far. I told you all about the songs I was listening to. I haven't listened to that harmonica solo since that week. I think I'm now ready to listen to 'It's All Over Now Baby Blue' again however and hopefully enjoy it once more. I do now know that Bob Marley was wrong when he said, "when music hits you, you feel no pain". In November, I got completely drunk and fumbled my way around a hotel room with hilarious consequences. In December I told you about my favourite films, albums, and TV shows of 2006.

I hope that you enjoyed my first year of blogging. Here's to another year of rants, raves, reviews and generally silliness.

God on Our Side

Somewheres in this universe there's a place that you can call home

Many of you may know that I am half-English, half-French. Ricky Gervais is as well apparently. He claims that this means that he is a bad lover and has bad breath. What being a mongrel breed has done to me is leave me with the feeling that I’m never quite at home in the UK and never quite at home in France.

I’m a Eurobrat, son of a European bureaucrat, with a good education and no-where to call home. Not that I’m complaining, it is just the way it is. I have a few other friends who are all in this situation or have lived through similar circumstances, and I’m sure that they can relate to this feeling as well. I guess that I am a symbol of European integration. One of the first European off-spring.

But this story that has come out today, and it could have changed my life forever. Apparently, France and the UK were considering a union in the 1950s. Guy Mollet (the French Prime Minister) on 10 September 1956 came over to England and discussed the possibility of France and the UK merging, with the Queen becoming head of a new state (‘Brance’, or ‘Fringland’ maybe). Anthony Eden was apprently lukewarm to the idea, and Mollet responded by asking to join the Commonwealth instead. The French later rejected this proposal and turned to the Treaty of Rome in 1957 and a closer union with their continental neighbours. And the rest, as they say, is history.

But what about me? I could have lived in 'Fringland' and felt at home, I would have finally had a real place to call home that reflected who I was. Bloody roast-beef eating frogs! Why couldn’t they have sorted this out? Imagine the football team as well. We would have really kicked arse. And the food combinations would have been interesting. But for a simple twist of fate I could have lived in a country that really represented who I am. Sigh.

We Better Talk this Over

We want folk singer here

My good friend Will publicly mocked my Dylan fetish on his blog a few days ago. I was relaying a rumour (now almost certainly a false one) that Dylan was releasing an album of new songs in September 2007. So I was angry at him, but he sent me an email back which quoted Simon Cowell (the “music industry guru” – © Heat Magazine and all other trashy publications of that nature) which has redeemed himself slightly in my eyes as he has given me inspiration to write a new blog topic. It was taken from a Cowell interview in Playboy Magazine. And it also proves that Will reads playboy – I wonder if his girlfriend knows and approves? If she does – well done Will, you’ve got yourself a gem worth keeping.

"If I had ten Dylans in the final of American Idol, we would not be getting 30 million viewers a week. I don't believe the Bob Dylans of this world would make American Idol a better show. Do I prefer Kelly Clarkson's music to Bob Dylan's? Yes. I've never bought a Dylan record. A singing poet? It just bores me to tears".

Now Simon Cowell is so wrong here. Music, for me and many others, is art. It makes you cry, laugh, dance and think. It moves you either physically or mentally. Simon Cowell and his Pop idol paps is not music, it is just product.

There are so many of these fantasy reality TV programmes on now that it is hard to keep up – what he has invented is a very profitable glorified karaoke contest. How much does a show like that cost to make, seriously. Rent a studio for 8 weeks and get idiots who want to be famous on TV to “sing” for free and then get the public to text in for winners, making a healthy profit at the same time. Plus you have the thousands of pounds of profit from the hyped up winners CDs which come out the day after the final, which require no marketing at all.

But what Simon forgets is that Kelly Clarkson (and other winners) just disappear after a few years – the industry has to keep producing this pap, and keep it new in order for people to keep buying. Clarkson may well sell millions of CDs, but she won’t be getting a number one when she’s 65. Who can remember these guys: Hear Say, Gareth Gates, David Sneddon, Alex Parks, Will Young or Chico? They have all disappeared from the celebrity radar, yet all won or were thereabouts in reality TV singing shows.

Simon Cowell may be all about the moulah (read $$$ for people who don’t speak Londonish) but art, passion and performance will always be more effective, touching and moving when artists like Bob Dylan grace the stage rather than clone Barbie doll glorified karoke singers. In thousands of years time the records and songs of the Beatles, Stones, Dylan, the Clash, REM, U2 or whoever will be remembered, much as the classical music of Beethoven or Mozart are today. Kelly Clarkson’s music will be forgotten. History has a snag of remembering the true great artists, Simon Cowell’s rent a drones (and himself) will be no more than a footnote in popular musical history.

Sorry had to get that off my chest. I fucking hate Simon Cowell and Poop Idol.

Talkin' New York

You went to the finest school alright

On a nostaligia trip, I looked at my school’s website. For those of you who don’t know me personally, you must know that I went to an International School in the South of France: Le Centre Internationale de Valbonne. I did a normal French education with extra classes in English and then went onto do the International Baccalureat in my final two years which consisted of classes mainly in English.

It was nice, set in the hills of a technological business park called Sophia Antipolis. There was forest all around. It was in the south of France, on the Riveria, near Antibes which had over 300 days a year of sunshine. So I guess I was lucky. Although it is shit to be a teenager, wherever you live.


They have a section on the website detailing the typical day of a border. Now I was a border for a year while my parents moved to Belgium. They felt, and I agreed with them, that changing school in my final year was pointless and would cause me difficulties. So I became a border for my final year at the school.

The typical day as described by the website:

6.45am – Wake-up and breakfast.
8am to 12pm – Lessons.
12pm-1pm – Lunch.
1pm – 5pm – Lessons.
5pm – Gouter (or snack in English).
5.30pm to 6pm – Study hour or activities.
7pm – 8pm – Dinner.
8pm – Study in your room.
9.30pm to 10.30pm – lights out.


Here’s what really happened on our typical day:

7.15am – The guy looking after us comes around once to wake us up by knocking on the door and letting himself in. I roll over and go back to sleep.
7.50am – Wake up, frantically put clothes on and get bag ready.
8.10am – Arrive in class ten minutes late.
11.00am – Class cancelled because of strike and/or absence by teacher (this is the South of France remember).
Shun lunch in the cafeteria which was absolutely foul – not all French cuisine is superb, remember. Go to the local shop and buy a sandwich and crate of beer to share with friends.
14pm – Go back to class, quite often drunk. Sleep in the back of the class and write down one thing – get notes from the spod at the front who is copiously taking down everything the teacher is saying.
16pm – Skive off the last hour because I can’t be bothered. Miss the gouter which consists appetisingly of stale bread left over from breakfast and cheap chocolate.
5.30pm – Say hello to the guy looking after us. Go to mate's room and play computer games.
7pm. – Go to dinner and eat another pile of crap. God it was awful and is making my stomach turn just thinking about it.
8pm. – Sit at desk waiting for guy to come around to check on us, listening to football on the radio and/or music.
9.30pm until 2am – Wait for the guy to come around in the evening. Sneak out and go to mate's room for more booze and computer games.
2am – Sneak back without getting caught by security guards passing by another three people’s rooms to see what they’re up to.

And at the weekend it was even better.
Saturday - Get up. Drink. Visit girls' dorms. Get thrown out. Go to bed.
Sunday – Get up. Drink. Watch football in the bar or visit girls' dorms again. Go to Bed.

But I enjoyed my short time at boarding school. I was old enough to realise that it had its benefits. In many ways it was as if I had been to university a year earlier. It certainly helped me adjust to the student lifestyle very quickly, and I didn’t look as much of a tit when compared to those people who had never been let out of the house on their own and who got hideously drunk after two Smirnoff Ices on Freshers Week.

So the lesson here is parents: never believe what a school tells you. The truth is always going to be far different.

Like a Rolling Stone

Sam said tell me quick man I got to run

I've written another couple of reviews. A review of Cold War Kids' debut album, Robbers and Cowards which I quite liked and a review of the Killers recent offering, Sam's Town which I liked less.

I've also been involved with doing this month's Rockbeatstone TV programme. Which is cool and has some cool videos from Kasabian, Arcade Fire, Bruce Springsteen, Badly Drawn Boy and Ryan Adams. So that's worth checking out if you want some music videos to watch.

Highway 61 Revisited

The game is the same - it's just up on a different level

My housemate went mad and has bought an XBOX 360. He has the game ‘Gears of War’. It is an amazing piece of computer game wizardry, a full frontal assault on the senses. You and a crack team of soldiers are running through a city while vile alien soldiers are coming at you from all angles. The graphics are so absolutely gobsmakingly brilliant and the soundtrack would not feel out of place in a action film. It is so incredibly intense that after you’ve played it for a while it feels as if you’ve been lobotomised.

But it got me thinking about computer games (I hate the term ‘video games’) and my history with them. The first computer I got on which I seriously played games was the Amstrad CPC 6128 (you can see it in all its 80s glory in the photo below).

I had some great games on it including Elite, which was possibly the most complex game at the time. You flew a spaceship across the universe trading goods, but it had complete freedom, you could even decide to become a pirate and shoot people down and steal their cargos. With money you could upgrade your ship with bigger engines, a larger cargo hold or even loads of missiles. I loved that game so much. Funnily enough some nutters have relaunched the game on PC and Mac as Oolite and have improved on it with new ships and stuff and even an online environment.

Another good game was Operation Wolf which came with a ‘gun’. You used the gun to shoot at the screen. Just like in the arcade! That was cool. Think of it as a kind of primitive Nintendo Wii.

I eventually upgraded to a Commodore Amiga 500+, which at the time was such an improvement on the old 8-bit, it was untrue. My favourite game of the Amiga was Sensible Soccer, which to this day remains the greatest footballing game of all time. It was instinctive with a one touch button control style and the soundtrack was Captain Sensible! Eventually they released Sensible World of Soccer which featured more teams from around the world. I used to set up so many leagues with friends and my brothers and play it for days on end. I could still play that one today, and you can even buy it as a direct plug into the TV and as a mobile phone game.



There were thousands of great Amiga games, but another one which stood out was a racing game called Skidmarks which had little cars race around dirt tracks. Amazingly fun and you could play four at the same time, which again produced many fun tournaments among friends.

Then I got bored with the Amiga and bought a Super Nintendo and eventually owned a Megadrive as well. Later on a playstation and a PS2. But everyone knows about those games. I played computer games intensively until I found better things to do like going down to the pub and meeting girls. But I still enjoy the odd gaming session now and again.

The earlier games were simple and playable, and enjoyable among friends. With new technology computer game developers have kind of lost sight of what’s important in a game: having fun. They should be less about full-frontal lobotomies and assults on the senses and more about enjoyment, playability and having simple fun.

Po' Boy

Upon the beach where hound dogs bay

How my brother celebrated Xmas in Australia. Bastard.


Gates of Eden.

Gonna forget about myself for a while, gonna go out and see what others need

Hello, it is now 2007.

Apart from the most drunken New Year's Eve celebrations in a long time, the highlight of my Xmas/New Year period was definately watching the PDC darts final between Raymond Van Barneveld and Phil Taylor. I wrote an article on Sportingo about the final. Unbelievable darts. So please check that out if you have the time/inclination.

May I wish you all a happy new year. Let's hope that 2007 is far better than 2006. And in case you're wondering what the link in the title to the darts story is, it is that 'Thunder on the Mountain' was used as a song over a darts montage in the final. Bob Dylan really does get everywhere these days. Including bloody adverts for Mitsubishi 4x4 gas-guzzling cars. That made me die inside a little bit, but maybe that's for another blog post.

Thunder on the Mountain