The View from Gable End

2012-02-12T02:41:00.000-08:00

And The Last Letter Said "I'm 9 Years Old and Homeless" FUUUUCCCKK !!!

2011-11-17T06:37:00.001-08:00

2011-11-06T04:33:00.001-08:00

The Fulfilment Of A Lifetime's Dream

2011-10-18T13:50:00.000-07:00

Today a CD arrived. Not an unusual event at Gable End, to be honest.

In fact, some would say an all too frequent occurrence. Like my Mum, who thinks that any money not spent on the family is money wasted.

My rationale is that music makes me happy, and that's good for the family.

I jest, of course.

No, today this CD dleivered with it the fulfimemt of a lifetime's dream. Namely, that since approximately the age of 14 I've always, ALWAYS wanted a credit on a proper bone-fide professionally released album.

And now, thanks to master muscician Dec Burke, my journey is at an end. See...

there I am, on the right. See ? SEE ?

Of course, in my dreams it was going to be Rush or Pink Floyd but, hey a credit's a credit and it's a bloody good album to boot. You can buy it here www.decburke.com.

And, what did I do to deserve this accolade ? Well, I went to meet the great man himself to discuss all his works in interview form, the product of which will be unveiled in the forthcoming Dead Nobodies Dec Burke Special - "The Story Behind Storylines" (working title).

IThangU

Sweary Alert !!!

2011-08-17T05:36:00.000-07:00

I know this is puerile and highly childish and I'm old enough to know better, but this is beyond funny...

Dead Nobodies #3 - High Voltage Special

2011-07-24T13:46:00.000-07:00

To celebrate a year since I had my heart attack, I've done a High Voltage Special version of the wildly popular and succesful (;-)) podcast, Dead Nobodies.

A High Voltage, Yesterday

Downloads available from the Dead Nobodies website here or from iTunes. Advantage with iTunes is that a). you can subscribe and b). you can download an "enhanced" (y'know, bigger muscles, finely hewn pecs, buns of steel, that kind of stuff) version.

Other podcasts are available, so I'm told. Anyway, this one is a bit more ROCK than usual, as it's reflective of the line-up. I won free tickets for this year's event, but didn't fancy it. What a boring f****r I am.

In other news, I've been renewed for another 6 months doing IT transformation for a major Insurance Company. Whatever that means. This is OK.

I'd much rather be concentrating on my music ventures though. For example, I am just about to start planning a very exciting, and very secret, project relating to music. Secret because it might not come off and I don't want you laughing at me in the street

If it does though, it'll be brilliant and may, just may, offer up a whole new vista of opportunities.

Before that though, I'm off on a Top Gear styled road trip to the Belgian F1 Grand Prix at the end of August. Yes, the Mercedes and I, plus a mate and his Porsche, are motoring to Spa and back, stopping off in Bruges, Winterklass, Spa and back again. It's all tremendously exciting. Now I'm on the market for iPhone holders that I can use to record some in-car video, just like you see on Top Gear. Not sure who I am though. Well, I'm definitely not The Hamster. I don't think I'm Clarkson. So that only leaves May.

Oh well. I'll post the items up here in what, I think, we could safely term a "v-blog" or a "vidlog" or a "video blog".

Actually, even before THAT, I am taking my cousins (15 and 13 - ish) to see Iron Maiden. The last time I saw Iron Maiden was at the UEA in 1981. I suspect they may have changed a little. On the other hand, they may not. I wonder if they still have Eddie as their mascot...

As we move into Autumn, I have a sackful of gigs lined up, so let's just enjoy the summer before we head into what is sure to be a fun packed final 2 quarters.

Apart from that, little to report dearest blog I wonder whether anyone still reads this shit ?

Oh Lord Won't You Buy Me A Mercedes Benz

2011-05-23T10:14:00.000-07:00

I have a new car. It is a Mercedes Benz. A Mercedes Benz SL to be precise. A sleek, silver, sexy machine. It is very long. It is very powerful. It is very comfortable and it is very fast. It is, I believe one would say, a Grand Tourer in the finest tradition. A car capable of conveying its occupants from one end of a country to the other in style, comfort and speed.

It is very, very, me.

It is not to be confused with it's baby brother, the SLK. That is a girls's car.

I bought this car with some of the proceeds from a payout from a life insurance policy. I spent ages deciding which car to have, looking at Porsche's, Jaguar's and even a fleeting consideration of an Aston Martin. None of them really hit the mark. Or it may have been my natural aversion to spending money.

Anyway, I decided that the Mercedes would offer the ideal combination of speed, comfort etc etc, and it has indeed ticked all of those boxes. It has to be said that our first few dalliances were a little reminiscent of a stuttering love affair, with both protagonists kind of quite keen, but a little apprehensive at diving straight in. But once we'd gone away for a weekend with each other (to Rotherham of all places) the love affair was quite definitely on.

The main reason that I bought this car, aside from ego and transportation, was for my marathon excursion into the world of Rock, specifically that sub-genre everyone else calls "Prog" but which I just call "really really brilliant music made by really really talented people, which would be really really successful if only more people opened their ears and shook off the idea that it was all aout Capes and Moogs and Mellotrons. Including a sizeable minority of the bands themselves. And the audience."

The first event to be supplemented by Mercedes Benz assisted transport was the Classic Rock Society Band of The Year Awards, this year including their very own Personality Award, no doubt taking their cue from one's very own Prog Personality Of The Year (podcast still available on iTunes here).

Soon afterwards, I ventured off to Hammersmith to catch Peter Gabriel do his orchestra thing, which was a bit of a curates egg to be honest.

Definitely not a rock gig, the arrangements were a bit hit and miss and it was just too bloody quiet.

I'd spent a very hospitable afternoon in a pub on the Hammersmith embankment in the company of Designer In Chief To Prog (Storm Thorgesson Wing) Vitamin P and his mate Chris. We were joined later on by John Mitchell and his guitar tech Paddy and finally by one of my other proggy mates James. All in all an excellently convivial time was had, ultimately spoilt a bit by the lacklustre gig. The evening was nicely rounded off by a visit to The Crobar, a rock bar in Soho. The last I saw of VitP, Chris and JM was after they dumped a load of cash on me for the cab ride and bailed out to the nearest kebab shop.

Phew! Rock and Roll eh ?

A couple of visits to The Peel followed, first to see one man guitar orchestra, Matt Stevens play support to Credo.

Matt is a top bloke and one of very few people I've met who make me feel physically small next to them. He is also very talented and worth checking out

The following week saw the return of Tinyfish with a freshly minted new set drawing heavily, and rightly, from The Big Red Spark. They were playing a mini-tour in preparation for their visit to the USA in late May to RosFest.

Now, Tinyfish are a proper band and stuff. I mean, they make real records and have been in the music press. So to say I was thrilled that they dedicated a song to me (Weak Machine since you ask) would be an understatement. In return, it only seems fair that I promise that I will now stop haranguing Simon and Paul every time I see them by insisting that Weak Machine is the best song on the album.

Now they are off to America, playing RosFest and will return stars of the prog firmanent, if there's any justice in this world. Maybe they'll stay out there and go over to LA and make their fortune. Anyway, whatever they do, it's a real joy and treat seeing this band continue to win friends and influence people.

My favorite ever band, Rush, decided last year to tour their, probably most popular, album, Moving Pictures in a show called Time Machine. This year they brought it to the UK. Now, my ritual when presented with a Rush tour is to figure out which gigs to go to, and then go to more. However, this time, the tour clashed badly with probably the rock concert event of the year (and possibly of all time) with Roger Waters bringing The Wall back to life. Indeed, it seems that Rush and Rog were literally leap-frogging over each other around the country.

So, I had reluctantly decided that I would only make one gig, at the O2, this time round. However, as luck would have it, the aforementioned Vitamin P and Chris mentioned to me that they were going over to Dublin to see the boys.

Dublin ! Of course ! Cue much grinding of gears and lights flickering on and off, whilst I figured out the logistics of getting there and back and shoehorning it into my schedule.

Cue another wonderfully refreshing afternoon with VitP, Chris and the lovely Dena as well as a number of other boys and girls who it was great to meet.

To say Ireland went mental for Rush would be an understatement The noise in that arena was deafening. Very few bands can match the scale and intensity of a Rush show and it was ear and eye blisteringly brilliant. The two young lads (15 and 12) in the row in front of me were absolutely blown away. It's great to see what may almost be the third generation of kids getting into Rush; it gladdens the heart, so it does.

Now I'm looking forward to the next gig at the O2 in London in few days time. As we Rush fans say, it's gonna be fucking awesome, dude !!

Inbeween this marathon bout of gig going (and it ain't finished yet) I've also produced the first of my new series of podcasts, called Dead Nobodies.

It's a personal choice of new and not so new stuff that has caught my attention, and not restricted to any one "type" of rock music. So, you're as likely to find AC/DC as well as Frost*, Mumford and Sons as well as Jethro Tull etc etc. I'm hoping to keep a fairly common and tight format, that comes across as a journey through the music rather then a set of tracks randomly jammed together. Each month, I will feature a special mix of material from, and related to, a particular artist, plus a bit of my own brand of honest insight and humour (ahem) as well as giving it bit of spit and polish by linking stiff, using stingers and jingles and sourcing material from the best possible source, for example, re-mastered tracks etc etc.

I bet everyone has done a mix-tape ?

(Tape, for any younger readers is an old analogue recording medium made up a strip of plastic coated in a ferrous material, attached to two spindles. The tape unwinds from one spindle and winds around the other, passing as it does so over a magnet called a "recording head". This recording head applies a varying magnetic signature to the tape that equates to the material being recorded. You then play this back only this time, the tape is read by the same head which now converts the magnetic field on the tape back not music.

Quaint, huh ?).

You put a mix-tape together of fave songs to impress a Girl and to show her in what high esteem you hold her.

You do this to share and communicate your innermost thoughts via the medium of someone else's songs

You do this because, as a male (of indeterminate age), you are genetically incapable of articulating these things to the object of your desire yourself.

You do this because you want to be with her desperately.

And you do this because you want get into her pants...

I don't know whether anyone has ever actually "sealed the deal" using a mix-tape as the prime mover, but in my view, it can only help. And in my experience girls love them.

At least, that's what they said at the time...

Anyway I digress. Doing a podcast is a bit like doing a mix-tape. You can't just throw a load of songs randomly together, they must be carefully selected and sequenced to make them sound good together. You may have to do some cross-fades, or some edits to get them to work together. You may need to introduce a jingle or a stinger interstitially to manufacture a transition between one track and another (particularly if they don't "flow" together). You may like to "beat match" tracks. You may even try to "key match" them.

Then, once you have done this, you may need to apply equalisation, compression and all manner of things to make sure the whole thing doesn't sound like some madman has got hold of the volume knob and is twiddling backwards and forwards furiosuly. That goes for any talky bits you might do and your "candy-floss". I have my own bespoke compression and EQ's I like to use. I think they work well, but you have to set them up through tria and error, and this takes time. I also like to use re-mastered tracks wherever possible, as these tend to be mastered to 0dB these days and sound better (IMHO), reducing the need to use any other fiddling.

I've also done a few of my own jingles which require editing. And if you do interviews, these need editing too !

Frankly all this takes me fucking ages. I know some people who do a 3 or 5 hours show every WEEK and I don't know how they do it ! Me, it takes me about 2 weeks to set this all up and constructing/recording it. Then I usually scrap it, change it and do it again. I get stressed with it and I usually get to the point where I figure that I'll just not bother. And then I force myself to do it, and from that moment, it starts to work. It's a creative process, far more so than I anticipated.

Anyway #1 has just been released. It has a website and everything. As the show develops and I garner some credibility and following (fingers crossed for both), I'll be looking to get interviews and reviews and all kinds of stuff in there.

Get Episode 1 HERE

And, it's now also on iTunes HERE

And so we move on...

I was 14 when The Wall was released, back in December 1979. I had by that time, become a devout follower of all things Floyd and looked forward to it with relish. I had already heard Roger Waters in a 2 hour show going through the album track by track with Tommy Vance (a show that I have never been able to track down since) and I was enthralled by its themes of alienation and barriers being built up in people. I resonated with its description of Teacher's and Mother's and Government and all the other stuff.

I guess that I was too young to understand it fully, but at the age I was I could completely identify with this abstract concept of a wall being built around oneself to protect and insulate oneself from everything "out there".

I was unable to see the original show production back in 1980/81 but by the time those shows had been completed, it had already passed into legend.

The background to the album was Waters' oft repeated story of spitting at a fan at a gig in Montreal and wondering how he'd come to do such a thing being, by any sensible measure, extraordinarily successful as the main protagonist of a band whose commercial success and artistic importance, equals that of The Beatles and Led Zeppelin.

What is less well know is that on embarking on The Wall project, Pink Floyd had suffered massive losses to their combined fortunes and assets due to the fraudulent activity and subsequent collapse of the investment company they had entrusted with their affairs. Fleeing the Country as tax exiles, Waters presented the band with two demos - one of which was to eventually become The Wall. Upon it, the livelihoods of the musicians and their organisation depended, as they had effectively been stripped of most of their earnings garnered over the preceding, fantastically successful, years.

It was against that backdrop that Roger Waters conceived and created, as album, show and film, perhaps the most audacious and ambitious piece of rock theatre in the history of popular music, now and then.

Throughout the year long recording, in LA, London and the South of France he navigated the recording of the album as well as overseeing and inputting the production of the show and had engaged Gerald Scarfe and Alan Parker in the making of the film. And he wrote all of the songs, with David Gilmour co-writing a handful and contributing as the Musical Director for the show.

(It would be unfair to assume the Waters alone was responsible for the way the album sounds, It was still a band effort, even though Nick Mason and Richard Wright contributed little in terms of writing. The essential combination of the four of them was largely intact - it sounds like Pink Floyd. That said, the seeds of Wright's dismissal were laid down in his (in Waters' eyes) uncooperative stance in meeting deadlines and contributing musical ideas. The schism that this generated infects the band relationships from that day to this. Wright was eventually sacked, then re-hired as a session musician for the shows. As an ironic and amusing result, he became the only one of the four to make any money from the shows, as it was so expensive to stage (or the tickets were too cheap, as I recently read)

The point I'm trying to make is that Waters' did most of this himself. He had the vision, the idea and then the nous to manage it all through to its undeniably successful conclusion. As a Project Manager whose job is "getting things done" against tight deadlines, I am filled with admiration for this.

As the Floyd fell apart, one realised that the chance to see The Wall would be lost for ever. Waters said that he would only do it again if the Berlin Wall fell.

And then...

Well, whaddya know ? To the amazement of all of us who remember that time, the Communist Block of Eastern Europe crumbled in the late 80's. It was, I recall one of those times when you realise that, if things are wanted enough, they WILL happen. The Cold War ended. The tyranny of fear and suspicion lifted. And, chiming well with those sentiments, Waters agreed to stage The Wall in Berlin.

I, along with 500,000 others and my mate John, attended. It was a production on a truly staggering scale (look at the size of the cranes in the picture above).

However, my abiding memory was that only during the show did it really become clear to me what it was all about. The music, narrative and the show came together for me, and made sense on such a fundamental level that the experience has never left me. I maintain that you cannot truly understand The Wall, and be immersed in it, until you have seen it live and experienced the utter desolation and vacuum of loneliness engendered by the site of a massive, white wall, naked of anything, audience one side and on the other a lone, plaintive and desperate voice, keening repeatedly "Is there anybody out there ?".

You HAVE to respond. You HAVE to help this person. You HAVE to reassure them. You HAVE to shout at the top of your voice…

"YES!!"

This moment, the moment when the wall begins to be breached, reveal to us something about what it is to be human. That is the mark of great art - it tell us something about ourselves. And The Wall has it in spades. That is why it is so revered and so popular and just so mind-bogglingly powerful. Add all the special FX, the emotional content of the lyrics and the playing and, well, it all gets a bit overwhelming.

Left with the memory then, I had assumed, like most fans, that The Wall would never be seen again. But, the old bastard, he decided to take it out once more. This time, the themes have been broadened to reflect the fears that nations hold and the barriers that they construct, whether those be religious, idealogical, taught or manufactured. This makes for a heady mix, but the thing that makes it even better is the fact that Roger Waters is now, at 67, no longer the angry, scared, "fucked up little Roger" as he described himself, anymore. And he's up there, ENJOYING himself, laughing, fist waving, communing with the audience, bringing us the message and making it a communal affair. And, I think, this makes all the difference and only serves to magnify the message and impact of what is, in my humble opinion, the absolutely best, most staggering and awesome rock show I have ever, and will ever, witness.

The show at the O2 I saw, on the 2nd tier, was amazing. Seeing it 4 days later, from the centre block, 4 rows from the front, was simply indescribable.

It was completely overwhelming, in a sensory and emotional sense. From 4 rows back the stage is enormous and the wall itself is huge !! Add to that planes flying overhead, the lights and fury, the fireworks, the flying pigs, the giant inflatable's, the faultless, and very loud, sound, the rear projections and finally, the enormous behemoth that is The Wall, being built up brick by brick, over the first half of the show upon which are projected a barrage of images pounded the message home. And then, at the very end, the whole thing falls down in a haze of smoke and truly earth moving sub bass.

Let me tell you dear reader, I left that arena a gibbering wreck.

If I never see another concert again in my life, I will die a happy and contented man.

So, I'm nearly at the end of my epic tale of gig going. No more gigs and evets for a little while. I need to get my strength back !! Only one last "job" to do, and that is Rush again at the O2.

And you know what they say about Rush gigs...

It's gonna be f****g awesome, Dude...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

F****g Awesome !

2011-04-22T13:14:00.001-07:00

Jason Segel & Paul Rudd Meet Rush from Jason Segel

2011-04-16T07:45:00.000-07:00

I watched a programme last night about the History of The Celts, and nearly threw my TV out of the window. Not because of the subject matter but because of the complete T**T presenting it.

Some effeminate Scottish bloke with long hair, who kept stopping in mid sentence as if he was reading a script handed down from God himself. It was the kind of overwrought delivery that I thought only happened in Lord Of The Rings.

I'm all for populism and making things easy to understand, but I do object to the kind of loose intellectual process that allows someone to pronounce as fact things that can only be pure supposition,. For example, at one point, he decided that a Woman buried with some artifacts or other, must have been "wise". How the f**k can you make that conclusion if you're supposed to be a scientist ? Only once did I hear him say "we know this because..." and produce some actual evidence to back it up.

Al the rest could have been completely made up as far as I was concerned.

The programme was littered with stuff like that, plus moody out of focus shots of this bloke staring into the middle distance at the sheer awesomeness of himself.

He kept referring to "our land", "this land of ours" and apparently there's some people in Cornwall, for whom the concept of "their Celtic heritage spanning the ages and this land of ours" (see how annoying it is) is a highly emotional and contentious subject "even today in our land".

He then proceed to have his DNA mapped and it turned out his paternal lineage came from Spain or somewhere. How I laughed (and then gazed wistfully into the middle distance).

At least you get the feeling with Brian Cox. annoying though he is, that a). he's done the hard graft and b). he's not so far up his own a**e as to be practically invisible.

to be continued...

Cutter Schmutter

2011-04-16T07:42:00.000-07:00

I've been itching to wrote about "The Cuts" for some time now, but haven't been able to for a couple of reasons. Firstly, people more eloquent then me keep writing really good articles about them, and secondly, because the protests have lapsed into bizarre self-parody at which any attempt to be even mildly satirical about them is a bit like taking a piss in the Sea.

However, the best article I've recently seen was written by that totem of left-wing hatred, Toby Young in the Telegraph. I think it says just about everything that needs saying, but I thought I'd add some points of my own.

1). The "cuts", which haven't actually started yet, will bring public spending down to 2007/2008 levels. That's the level of public spending (ie the money that the government takes from you and me) applicable after 10 years of virtually unrestrained largesse by the last Labour Government. That's the scale of it. That's not a cut, that's a barely recognizable scratch. Let's have a sense of proportion.

2). The "March For the Alternative" didn't seem to come up with any alternative at all, unless it was "continue fire-hosing money at an unreformed public sector". What's your alternative ? If it's less awful than those nasty Tory cuts, then please explain not what you WON'T cut, but what you WILL.

3). Actually, there is an alternative, which is to keep going the way we were (are ?) and end up in the same boat as Greece, Ireland and Portugal. What is common across these countries is untrammeled public spending and fiscal incontinence on an epic scale. And when the money runs out, an easy option to go running to the EU to get a bail out. A bail out, incidentally, that the UK is partly on the hook for thanks to Alaistar Darling signing up to it 2 days before he was slung out of office.

$). Had Labour won the election, they would have put in place a series of austerity measures too. Not as bad as the evil Tories of course (for every £8 this Government saves, Labour plans would have saved £7 - after all, they have their client state to look after, assiduously cultivated by Brown and Blair over 13 years). But I'm afraid that some Lesbian Outreach Workers would have been lost to society. As would some Nurses, Doctors, Accountants, Social Workers etc etc.

3). Whilst we're talking about cuts, or as I like to express it, savings (but then I don't write for the BBC et al), when your local council closes down a Library, or an Old People's Home or scrapped a youth unemployment scheme, be clear that it's a Local Government decision done to make an ideological and political point. In this way, left-wing councils demonstrate that their ideology reigns above any other considerations and thus they are real enemies of the poor and vulnerable. If that enrages you, then use the new localism powers put in place by this Government to challenge your local authority and call them to account as to why that saving is favoured over another.

4). In that scenario, rather than making a few Accountants or HR people etc redundant, they've decided to pic on a soft target. which brings me on to my next point... It's unfortunate, and sad, for the people involved when anyone loses their job. In the private sector, where the notion of a job for life disappeared years ago (as did the notion of a decent final salary pension, a generous redundancy pay off and any hope of early retirement), most people feel as if they're self-employed in the sense that they need to move around to develop a career or find work somewhere else when the axe falls, as it inevitably does. These are the facts of life. Get used to it and for heaven's sake, stop fucking whingeing.

I didn't see any marching, any Public Sector employee and Union indignation, or the great and glorious leaders of the Left out in protest for the hundreds of thousands of financial services staff who lost their jobs over the last few years.

But I guess an Accountant or a Project Manager (for example) losing their job in a bank is just not the same thing as one losing their job in the Public Sector. Still, thats "fairness" for you.

5). More people marched on the Countryside March (notionally against the ban on Fox Hunting, but more broadly about a Government that didn't "care" about them). I suspect that the March for the Alternative will have about as much impact on Government policy as the Countryside march did. Quite right too.

6). I saw some of the people on the march carrying posters of Margaret Thatcher. I mean, come on, grow up. What on earth has any of this got to do with an octogenarian, ex-Prime Minister who's been out of power since 1991 ? You really couldn't make it up. As if further evidence of the ludicrousness of the event were needed, witness (r)Ed Millband invoking the Civil Rights movment and (I still can't quite believe this) Nelson's Mandela's struggle as somehow equal and indicative of the "struggle" for the "Alternative". I'm sure Nelson Mandela was overjoyed at the comparison. As for Red Ed, I suggest he moves out of the Sixth Form Common Room and into the real world.

7). At least in the 70's and 80's real working class people (a) existed and (b) had a pretty strong case for grievance. Most of the protesters I could see looked like over privileged middle class whingers with a sense of entitlement that can only be engendered when you've spent most of your formative years under a Government that made you a state supplicant.

8). As for UKUncut, go back to school and do a business studies GCSE, and then you might understand a little about how business in a Capitalist society works. Oh, you don't like Capitalism ? Well, we're stuck with it I'm afraid, but I'm sure North Korea or China would welcome you. To crown the general ludicrousness of their position, I understand they now want to occupy Monaco. Twats. Every single one of them.

9). While we're here, let's take a little look at Student Fees. No one has yet given me a sufficiently compelling explanation as to why I should pay for the University education of other people's children. Most people I know who went University are grateful that they did so, and most of them relay stories of spending their grants on generally having a great time. Well, fair enough, but not with my money, thank you.

If I don't go to Uni and, say, get a job and get a credit card and save money to get a house and then get a mortgage, I have debt. What exactly is the difference ? It was my life choice, and Uni is yours. So you have to pay. Not all, but some.

Speaking as someone who's entire career has been characterized by having to elbow past individuals with the over-weening sense of entitlement that only a 2nd can give you, I can pretty confidently state that, with rare exceptions, there isn't anything special about them, and certainly nothing I've seen to convince me that they are worth paying for out of my money. Sure, we need Doctors and Scientists, and if everyone who went to Uni did that, then there might be a moral case, but whilst there is one single Media or Social Studies degree course out there, no way, not in today's world I'm afraid.

10). Finally, the reason we're in the state we're in is almost entirely down to the fiscal incompetence of the last Labour Government. It is too lazy, easy and convenient to blame banks or whoever else. The real villains of this piece are the likes of Blair, Brown, Milliband (Snr and Jnr) Balls and Morris et al. The sight of these charlatans merrily going on their way, pronouncing from their ivory towers as if they were in some way entirely blameless makes me puke. Unless or until you own up and say sorry, and moreover, come clean with what your solution is to the mess you created, I suggest that you shut the fuck up.

Mind you, they do say that one thing you can't afford in politics is a conscience, so I won't be holding my breath.

Sent from my iPad

Guardian in non-sneery article about THE greatest band of our times. Now do you understand ? :-)

2011-03-31T07:37:00.000-07:00

Rush: 'Our fans feel vindicated'

It's nearly 30 years since Rush had a UK hit single. How, then, are they more popular – and, whisper it, cooler – than ever before? By Rob Fitzpatrick

The queue outside the Cineworld just south of Piccadilly Circus in central London is about 300 yards long and made up largely of white men aged between 30 and 50, but if you look closely you'll spot a few rogue elements. Such as women: there are, perhaps, five or six dotted among the men. Most appear to have been dragged along, but a couple look like they actually might be here of their own volition. Near the front of the queue there is a group of three young, turbaned Sikhs, and there are a few Japanese fans who may, or may not, be tourists. But in the main this is a river of middle-aged white blokes, and so I, a middle-aged white bloke, join it. Happily.

We are all here for a special screening of a film called Beyond the Lighted Stage, a documentary about Rush, a Canadian rock group who last had a single in the UK top 40 in 1983, yet are now selling out bigger venues – often stadiums – in more parts of the world than they ever have done before. What makes tonight special for Rush fans is that Geddy Lee, the group's lead singer and bassist, will be taking part in a Q&A directly after the film. To get us in the mood and break the ice, tonight's compere asks how many of us have seen the film before. Every single person – every last one – in the room puts their hand up, and a Mexican wave of laughter spreads across the room. The crowd relaxes into their seats and waits for the lights to go down. Five hundred outsiders have suddenly become a lot less outsiderly.

Rush, and Rush fans, are long used to being the butt of the joke – kimono-wearing, book-learning, heavily moustachioed Canadian prog-rock overlords never seemed likely to be at the cutting edge of cool. But what's really interesting is how their fan archetype – that nerdy, computer-club, Dungeons and Dragons-playing, comic-reading, sci-fi geek – has moved from the margins right into the very heart of the mainstream. Rush have been uncool for so long that they are, finally, perhaps the coolest band in the world.

"We've been vindicated!" laughs guitarist Alex Lifeson down the phone from his home in Toronto a few days later. "A lot of fans feel vindicated, too. There is a segment of our audience that are outsiders and some have grown into power and influence, but that bond they feel to us is still there. It's very, very deep and I don't think it's like that for a lot of other bands."

Lifeson and Lee were the long-haired, music-obsessed children of Serbian and Jewish immigrants when they met at Fisherville Junior High in Toronto in 1967. They had both persuaded their parents to buy them guitars: Lee had a thing for Steve Marriott, but they both loved Led Zeppelin. They both wanted to play in a loud rock'n'roll band.

"We also both wanted to play really fast," laughs Lee, sitting in the sunlit conservatory of a London hotel the morning after the screening. "That was really important. We wanted to play stuff that was hard to play. We're not so different now."

The band's first album was released independently in 1974, and it ran all the way from ballsy, Zep-like rockers to more ballsy, Zep-like rockers. It was only when John Rutsey, their original drummer, left a few months later because of illness that Rush began to morph into this most remarkable of groups. His replacement was Neil Peart, whose family ran a farm equipment business – the gangly teen was more interested in Buddy Rich, Keith Moon and Duke Elllington's drummer, Louie Bellson, than in tractors. The band signed to Mercury Records and, after just two weeks getting to know each other, they played their first gig together in front of 11,000 Uriah Heep fans, and began to tour in earnest. Peart, unused to the tedium of touring, would read obsessively and soon the science fiction and autobiography and "junior philosophy" he was consuming turned into lyrics for his new band.

On the band's debut LP Lee had sung: "Running here, I'm running there/ I'm looking for the girls." By early 1975 – on their second album, Fly By Night – he was tackling the words Peart had started writing for him: "His nemesis is waiting at the gate/ The snow dog, ermine glowing, in the damp night, coal-black eyes shimmering with hate." Oddly, brilliantly, it's the latter he sounds most comfortable singing. The trouble was that Rush's record company preferred the former. Just eight months later the band released their third LP, Caress of Steel – a fantastically lyrical and at times maddeningly overwrought album. It tanked, and the series of shows the played to promote it became known as the Down the Tubes tour.

"That was a depressing time," Lee says. "You'd pull up at a venue and they didn't even expect you there; it was humiliation after humiliation. Your shoulders start to slump, and you wonder why you're playing a rock club in Oklahoma City on a wet Tuesday night. The label and the management wanted us to follow a straight path, but we went hard left. We were convinced we would be dropped and end up back home playing bars."

Instead the band locked everyone out and wrote 2112, an album whose entire first side was taken up by a concept piece about a brutally dystopian future in which a group of elite priests exert total control over the meek and mediocre: excellence and individualism have been traded in for a numb, cowardly security. One man finds an old guitar, is fascinated by the sounds it makes and begs the priests to let the people make their own music. They respond by crushing the guitar beneath their feet. A voice at the track's end intones: "Attention all planets of the Solar Federation: we have assumed control."

The sleevenotes offered thanks to the rightwing novelist Ayn Rand, while critics also detected nods to Dostoevsky and Nietzsche. Peart's ultra-libertarian stance was construed by the NME, never one to shy away from a ludicrous argument, as being dangerously close to Nazism, despite Rand – and Lee – being Jewish. "I believe in the sanctity of the individual," Peart said later. "In freedom of action without harming anyone else." While this debate raged on, in England at least, Rush displayed their desire for individual freedom on 2112's sleeve where they were pictured wearing silk kimonos, in what they admit in Beyond the Lighted Stage was an attempt to have an image, any image. As a young fan I found that picture a far more powerful message and, to this day, I've never met a Rush fan who ever gave two hoots for Rand or objectivism, but I know plenty for whom Rush's brilliantly openhearted, unafraid ludicrousness was just as much of a draw as their staggering technical aptitude.

"We were pretty goofy," Lee says. "We came up through a generation where you admired bands who had a stage look. But we didn't have a stylist, and our management was no use."

But it worked out well, Rush were never less than striking.

"You're very kind," he laughs, "but sometimes it was more freaky. There were visual crimes. My huge glasses. When I had my hair tied back all the time. That was so bad. But my wife let me out of the house like that and she's actually really fashionable – she makes her living in the fashion business."

Has she ever banned an outfit outright?

"Oh god, yeah," he laughs. "Plenty. But we were always connected to our times, that's for sure."

The release of 2112 turned Rush into stars, and they kept up their epic scope for two more albums – during which time Peart rewrote Coleridge's Kubla Khan for the song Xanadu, another of the band's signature numbers – then as the 70s became the 80s Rush changed again, just as dramatically as they had when Peart joined. Hair was cut, and so were song lengths. Synths appeared. Lee was listening to Ultravox and Simple Minds, while the influence of the Police and Talking Heads was all over 1980's Permanent Waves and its massive hit single, Spirit of Radio. The follow-up, 1981's Moving Pictures, is still the band's most successful record and had its own huge hit in Tom Sawyer, a song iconic enough to have been cut-up and refigured as intro music at Beastie Boys gigs, and remembered so affectionately it became a recurring theme in the 2009 bromance I Love You, Man.

"There was something special about that record," Lifeson says. "Moving Pictures still makes me get into a groove, I love the way it feels. But I'm not nostalgic for old times. I'd love to have that hair again and be 40 pounds lighter, but it's a tradeoff. If we were at the end of our careers, I might feel differently."

But, of course, they're not. During the 80s the band went took a peculiarly synth-heavy direction (too synth-heavy, some would say – including, it turned out, Lifeson). They were turned down flat when they offered a young band called Nirvana a tour in the very early 90s. Roll the Bones, from 1991, included a rap, and 1993's (hugely successful) Counterparts touched on grunge and included a song calling for more personal understanding of Aids. But it looked as if it would all fall apart when, in 1997, Peart's only daughter was killed in a car accident. Ten months later, his wife died of cancer. While caring for her, Peart started learning to cook, a process documented in strangely moving fashion on his own website, in which he offers thanks to Marks & Spencer for putting instructions on preprepared meals. The band didn't play live for five years, during which time Peart – who now has a new wife and a 16-month old daughter – covered more than 55,000 miles riding across the US on his BMW motorcycle. "These days we're judicious with our tour planning," Lifeson says. "Neil doesn't want to be away too much."

After 37 years, Rush are still recording new material and still finding new places to play ("In South America they cry when they meet you," Lee says). More importantly, they're still friends.

"That's totally it," Lee says. "That's what Rush means, and that's the satisfying thing for all of us."

Back in his home office high above Toronto, Lifeson laughs out loud. "There are very, very few bands that get along anything like as well as we do. In fact, thinking about all the bands I've ever met, I really don't think there are any."

Rush tour the UK from 14-25 May. The deluxe edition of Moving Pictures is released on 11 April by Mercury.

The Many Faces of Rush, one song at a time

The Zeppelin copyists

Finding My Way (1973)

Dating from the days when Rush were a Toronto bar-band, barely out of their teens, Finding My Way could just as well have been called Finding Led Zeppelin's Way. This, featuring original, feather-cut, glam-friendly drummer John Rutsey, is gloriously in hock to Robert Plant's paint-stripping howl and Jimmy Page's amped-up, hair-shaking, blues-rock riffology. "I'm coming," yells Geddy Lee dizzily, over a sweat-drizzled guitar break. "Ooh babe, I said I'm running/ Oww babe I said I'm coming to get you mama …" .

The prog epicists

Xanadu (1977)

Perhaps the most Ultra-Rush Rush epic in the whole epic Rush canon, Xanadu is an 11-minute work of wonder that skips easily between fantasy-metal bombast, oscillating analogue-synth noodle-doodle, ambient guitar experimentalism and double kick-drum diddling prog-jazz. "To find the sacred river Alph, to walk the caves of ice," sings Lee. "Oh, I will dine on honey dew and drink the milk of paradise/ Yeah! Paradise!" The only song known to man to be inspired by Samuel Taylor Coleridge's 1798 poem Kubla Khan while still being intrinsically groovy enough to offer up a super-tasty breakbeat (beginning around 3:08 on the live clip linked above). Frankly, you can keep your punk rock.

The hitmakers

Red Barchetta (1981)

From deep within the beating heart of their chart-hogging, hit-making era, this is as perfect and beautiful a pop song as the band would ever write. Based on the short story A Nice Morning Drive by Richard S Foster, Red Barchetta imagines a world where the internal combustion engine is banned and everyone knocks about in eco-friendly "gleaming alloy air cars" – apart from our hero, who visits his uncle's country house to drive the fantastically preserved Ferrari 550 Barchetta the old chap's been keeping under wraps for 50 years. Includes the none-more-Julian-and-Sandy line: "Tyres spitting gravel, I commit my weekly crime."

The synthrock years

Distant Early Warning (1984)

From the band's under-celebrated wedge-haircut, ponytail and pastel-coloured jacket era, this is a neat summation of what modern rock bands thought were good ideas in 1984. The band had been toying with Police-like clipped prog-reggae styles since 1980's monster hit The Spirit of Radio, but this was something else, rather like Talking Heads in Dub, only nothing like that at all. Big and spacey and full of ringing chords and digital synths, it has a powerfully dynamic, post-punk chorus that you will wake up singing for weeks afterwards. Neat tip of the lyrical hat to William Faulkner's 1936 novel Absalom, Absalom! too, obviously.

The power trio returns

One Little Victory 2002

Not quite a full return to the band's satin'n'tat sound of 1973 – there are some superfan-teasing big prog chords thrown in early on – but this was certainly some sort of reimagining of their original, stack-heeled power-trio wonderfulness. The band had been on hiatus for nearly six years following the deaths of Peart's daughter and, soon after, his wife. No one – least of all the band themselves – thought there was any chance they could ever really come back. Then they did. And they found themselves bigger than they had ever been.

The road to Xanadu: Neil Peart on the birth of Rush's first great epic song

From the time I was a schoolboy, I loved reading. I remember going to the local public library every Tuesday evening (perhaps the only time it was open at night) for a fresh supply of books. Writing also afflicted me early; at age seven, I wrote a poem called The Little Red Fox that ran on for a couple of pages of doggerel rhyme. I'm told it was displayed in the halls of Gracefield school, Toronto, for some years after – not remarkable for its quality, but for its volume (similar criticisms have been levelled at my drumming over the years).

To give the seven-year-old rhymester his due, there is one couplet I remember fondly from the middle of the poem, when the hunters are coming after the fox: "The fox woke up so early in the morn/ (You would too if you heard that horn!)"

I realise now that by the time I reached high-school English classes, it was necessary to sacrifice one novel, one play and one poem – vivisect them – to give me the tools to properly appreciate a thousand other novels, plays, and poems. Thus, A Tale of Two Cities, Julius Caesar, and The Rime of the Ancient Mariner were slaughtered on the altar of literary dissection, and will never live for me again.

Too bad about that – but a worthwhile sacrifice, of course.

As for the Rush song Xanadu, and its debt to Samuel Taylor Coleridge, it's kind of strange how that came about.

Back in 1975, while my bandmates Geddy and Alex were mixing our first live album, All the World's a Stage (talk about literary references!), with co-producer Terry Brown, I took a few days away to work on some lyrics for new songs.

The title and initial theme of Xanadu were actually inspired by the film Citizen Kane. I had planned to attempt something with its dark mood and subtle psychology. Of course the opening lines of Kubla Khan were quoted at the beginning of Citizen Kane, so I looked up the poem just for research – "context".

However, after reading the poem, I was overwhelmed by its imagery and emotional power. More or less against my will, I found the song being taken over by the poem, in a way that has never happened before or since. For that reason, the finished song has never been my favourite piece of work, lyrically – too derivative – but it made a good musical vehicle for one of our first "extended works".

Also, it was portentous that I added the "adventure travel" aspect to the song's story way back then – "I scaled the frozen mountaintops of eastern lands unknown/ Time and man alone/ Searching for the lost Xanadu" – before I'd ever traveled farther than the arenas and rock clubs of North America.

It is also noteworthy that I portrayed the idea of immortality as a grim fate, a curse, because the first lyrics I ever wrote, at about age 17, were for a song by the band I was in, JR Flood, called Retribution. (When I told my mother about the song, and the title, she cracked: "Who are you writing for – college professors?" That was rich, said to a high-school-dropout wannabe drummer. In later years, having attained success with Rush, I once heard a disparaging remark: "Rush is what happens when you let the drummer write the songs." Pretty funny – though of course I'm not entirely to blame; I only write the lyrics.)

Retribution was a first-person story about a soul trapped in immortality as a punishment, foreshadowing the character I made up for Xanadu. It is further ironic that a dominant theme in Citizen Kane is the opposite: mortality as a punishment – symbolised by Kane's dying word: "Rosebud."

But in terms of the influence of Coleridge on my lyrics, I am much more fond of a less obvious reference, a line in our song Animate, from Counterparts (1994): "Daughter of a demon lover."

It pays homage to these powerful lines from Kubla Khan: "As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted/ By woman wailing for her demon lover!"

Now that's rock!

Your Own Special Way

2011-03-24T09:06:00.000-07:00

Here's a singular, hilarious and frankly scabrous critique of Your Own Special Way, by Leon Camfield.

Please direct any letters to Leon, c/o The Mike Rutherford Appreciation Society, Collins Street, Bankstown, Hackett, W1 ND

More Cox

2011-03-20T13:39:00.001-07:00

Cox

2011-03-20T05:45:00.001-07:00

Tubular Belles*

2011-03-15T12:20:00.001-07:00

* Thanks Pedro

The Daily Mash - People still unsure how banks work

2011-03-08T10:00:00.000-08:00

The Daily Mash - People still unsure how banks work

Frost* RIP (?)

2011-03-02T05:04:00.000-08:00

Sad news reaches Gable End of the demise (or at least suspended animation) of the awe inspiring, genre rogering and hugely talented progressive-rock band Frost*.

Main-man Jem Godfrey (interviewed by myself for the ace podcast Prog Personality Of The Year, still available at an iTunes store near you) has had to call it a day. Here is his post:-

"Hello all,

There’s not really an easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. I’ve decided to suspend the Frost project with immediate effect. If this were somebody else’s band, I’d just say I was leaving, it would be so much easier, but it’s not so easy when you’ve created the band in the first place…

The reasons are many - I don’t feel comfortable any longer in the role of singer/front man/keyboard player/principle songwriter/principle cheque writer. Truth be told, I never have. It’s all got a bit out of hand from the gently self-mocking studio project I started for fun in a shed in East Sussex in May 2004 when I was young and happy and it was always sunny.

More than that though, trying to juggle two full time careers as I have over the last 7 years has been a tough ask and has ultimately become a price to high to pay in certain areas of my life. One of which is my health. I’ve been to a very dark place over the last 8 days and ended up in a pretty bad way. Although I’m now emerging out the other side (a stone lighter into the bargain), I have realised that I have some serious issues I must address. I’m no longer young, I’m no longer happy and the sun is no longer shining.

These issues have made me realise that life is sometimes about doing what you must do when the time comes regardless of what other people might want or expect of you. Some things are bigger than music or bands, expectation or disappointment. Figuratively speaking, I’ve now been given a yellow card and my priority now is to get myself back together before I get sent off for good.

So what now?

Nothing. I’m going to go to ground for a bit. Be private. Grow some veg. Get well.

And reflect. It’s been an amazing journey full of brilliant moments. Too many to list, I’m sorry it’s stopped like this, so abruptly, but I’ve been at my wits end lately and I’m no use to anybody in an urn.

I hope you’ll understand. Thank you for being brilliant.

Jem"

I am deeply saddened by this. I suspected something was not quite right, as he had not been posting on twitter, his blog had gone quiet and there had been no sign of him on the Frost* forum.

After I'd interviewed him for PPOTY, he asked me to email him when the show was ready and released, and I did that, but didn't receive any reply - not that I expected to, to be honest, but nonetheless, given how up for it and supportive he was, I did wonder. I had previously had to email him about a rights question I had and had an almost immediate reply so when I didn't hear from him at all, I thought something might be up.

It was a really big deal for me to get to speak to Jem, for reasons that will become apparent in the closing paragraphs of this post. But he immediately put me at ease and we ended up having a right laugh.

Of course, the most important thing is that he needs to fix whatever is broken, and speaking from my own experience, if something happens to you that is life changing to the extent you have to reboot yourself, it's best to own up to that and prioritize the things that are truly important and let go of the rest.

Here's the thing...

I would like to thank Jem, because if it weren't for him I would never have got to hear Milliontown. And If I'd have never heard Milliontown, I'd have never looked him up on the internet and from there, never have joined in the forum all those years ago and from there, never have met any of the people who I am now honored to call my friends.

Frost*'s music has sustained me through some of my own difficult times over the last few years and through his music, he literally was the catalyst for a large part of my life now (which is why I was a bit nervous about speaking to him).

One day, when he's better, I'll tell him that.

So, I am sad that Frost* has finished (or at least in a state of suspended animation) but grateful for the gifts Jem and it have bestowed upon me, and glad that he is getting better.

Beyond that, there is nothing left to say but maybe this tune is apt Jem Godfrey - RIMH

New Car. That is all.

2011-02-28T10:50:00.000-08:00

Wide Awke Bootleg

2011-02-22T06:06:00.001-08:00

6.5 Reasons Why Bloggers Make Better Lovers

2011-02-18T00:35:00.000-08:00

6.5 Reasons Why Bloggers Make Better Lovers

How Wars Start

2011-02-17T09:05:00.000-08:00

It's the age old problem; how do you get the buses to run on time ?

For example, on my route this very morning, I did what Project Managers all over the world so, which is get to the bus stop 5 mins early.

40 minutes later, I was still waiting.

So either the bus I waited for was earlier than 5 minutes early, according to its timetable, or it just simply didn't run.

As a result, I missed my first meeting of the day, which, whilst it wasn't about solving World Famine and therefore in the grander scheme of things, totally irrelevant, it still annoyed the f**k out of me.

This meant that, when I gave up and walked home, I was in a bad mood, and shouted at my kids, which got them upset, which made me feel guilty and then s**t, etc etc and so on.

The universe is therefore out of balance, all 'cos the someone, somewhere, didn't do their job properly.

I believe that it has been proven that, if buses ran without timetables but at the same frequency (eg in my case 2 buses an hour) then they would actually be available at a more convenient time for everyone and would thus avoid adding to the proliferation of angst, stress, performance targets and measures that so infest modern life. Everyone involved, the driver, the bus company owner and the punter would be much happier as a result and no one would start wars.

I'm On iTunes !!!

2011-02-15T15:16:00.000-08:00

Yes ! It's true ! I am on iTunes, albeit by a slightly circuitous route.

I feel rather more chuffed about that than I probably ought to but hey, there's got to be a first time.

Anyway, my debut podcast, the rather spendid (if I say so myself) Prog Personality of the Year Winners Podcast.

It can be downloaded from here (Episode 16) iTunes link

I'd also like to recommend the really rather lovely website wot I built to go with it

PPOTY 2010

This is not the end; this is just the beginning. Please download and let me know what you think. If you're brave enough... :-)

F**K Square

2011-02-05T00:34:00.000-08:00

The perils of untimely social networking.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

My Life In Record Shops c 1977-2011

2011-02-04T11:56:00.000-08:00

This article appeared on the BBC Website a couple of weeks back Madonna and Me

I spent many hours of my youth in record shops, and indeed, worked in HMV as a Saturday and holiday job whilst at College (at which I avoided studying due to my head being in a cloud of music accompanied fog - literally and figuratively).   

Don't forget that that it was the likes of HMV, Virgin and Our Price, with their pile-em-high, sell-em-cheap commoditisation of music and price gouging tactics that put paid to the small independent record store where you’d find the real muso's. The mind goes back to such legends as Backs Records (spiky, indie, punk) and Robin's Records (rock, prog, hippy).

Robin’s records in particular was a temple to me, and a destination every Saturday morning.   The employees of both shops disliked each other along tribal lines, and so did their customers. A Backs Records person wouldn’t be seen dead in Robins, and vice-versa.

It took me weeks, if not months, to cross its threshold as if entering a forbidden realm, only to discover a set of sub-cultural rules regarding the correct way to behave, for example, whilst browsing perpendicular to another customer. I was always a left to right browser, starting on the carousel at the top left, venturing down the racks until reaching the bottom, and then taking a swift diagonal upward to the next right. Others browsed in a right-to left fashion leading to the inevitable meeting and the key moment of etiquette - how does one transition past the other ? At what point, do you cross over ?

Mostly this was done in a seamless, automatic and graceful movement, with neither eyes nor limb meeting, each to pursue their respective course unhindered, with opprobrium reserved for the random browser with no "system”, and a shared but unspoken agreement that such people were out of their depth and would be better served by browsing the racks at Woollies’. Clearly, not "serious" music fans.  

These little rules were as nothing to the trepidation involved in purchasing a record for the first time. The guys (always guys) behind the counter represented a high priesthood of music appreciation, a level to which the novice would stare in wonder and aspiration. They knew every release date, and probably knew the bands themselves. Offering the empty record sleeve was a critical moment, eliciting tacit approval, shared appreciation and an unspoken invitation to join the club (at entry level, clearly), or conversely a cultural faux-pas of astronomic proportions. Nevertheless, it was a journey that introduced me to, amongst others, Hemispheres, Long Live Rock and Roll, Dark Side Of The Moon, Heaven and Hell, Brain Salad Surgery, A Day At The Races, Out Of The Blue, No More Heroes, Live and Dangerous and even, yes, Jeff Wayne’s Musical Version of War Of The Worlds ! Oh to be starting that journey again...

In many ways, what’s happening now to music chains is the logical conclusion of the process they started, only now it’s them in the firing line as music becomes a comodity more than ever. Frankly, the quality at the default bit rate of yer average download is shocking, and either the consumer must have cloth ears or just not care; when people say “Oh, I can't tell the difference” I feel like shaking them by the shoulders and shouting at them “That's because you’re not listening”.

And that’s the point I guess; why would you buy music and not listen to it unless you felt it was a piece of throw away junk ?

And don’t even get me started on the artwork; where once proudly stood a 12”x12” artefact with the potential at least of portraying great beauty, care and thought, there is now a 75k JPEG file.

I can’t think of another area where the punter is as happy to passed shoddy goods of dubious quality. And what does it say about the artist who is happy for their work to be passed off as such ? And, even worse, what does it say to you about what the artist must think of YOU, dear punter, that they think you’re happy to have this sub-standard product flogged to you ?

For those people, iTunes et al exist.

That said, the facts of life for all artists (even the Beatles it seems, though not AC/DC interestingly) mean that you have to be there, and I wouldn’t criticise any artist who feels compelled to play.

So where does the music fan turn, where he/she can be assured of a treasured artefact constructed with love and care, at the best quality, at a reasonable price ? I believe that pronouncements on the death of the CD are exaggerated, just as the death knell for the 12” vinyl record actually turned out to be the morning call to prayer. Many bands who care about their output (and it is still amazing to me how many bands and musicians don’t care about HOW their music sounds) are now putting time and money into producing, albeit for a premium, tapping into the desire of the music fan to have a highly collectable and precious artefact.

Equally, whilst there are still fans of music as a sublime combination or art and emotion with huge libraries of CD’s, there will be a demand for players. And should these people take advantage of the convenience of home-networks, it’ll be a long time before they are satisfied with a 130Kbps download as their primary “content”.

And if some of that gives a young person the same thrill of discovery and finding something to call their own that will live with them for the rest of their lives, that’s good enough for me.

PPOTY 2010

Work continues on my first foray into the world of Podcasting which has been a rather steep learning curve. I apologise now to anyone who listens to the finished article and finds it rather rough around the edges. Hopefully, it won’t be too bad.

Now the deadline is approaching I’m trusting in my usual methodology, namely to procrastinate endlessly up to the last minute then do it all in a rush. It’s been good fun and I’m grateful to all the contributors who don’t really know who I am and could quite easily have told me to “f**k off !” which nobody did, so that’s been brilliant.

Next year, I’ll go all out for a “gala event” with live music and dancing girls. Esp the girls…

PERSONAL UPDATE

Next week I have my 6 month check to see whether I’m still alive (I am, for now). I feel decent progress has been made; my weight has now dipped under 18 Stone, no cigarettes have passed my lips, and my alcohol intake continues to be on the judicious side (aside from a very few occasions). On top of this, I am taking regular exercise every day as directed and I’m looking forward to the spring and the lighter evenings so I can get out for a trot or a bike ride.

I’ve been doing some running, which has proven to me that whilst I can meet the targets the Dr’s have set me, my levels of fitness are pathetically low compared to my peaks in my early 20’s and 30’s. Whilst I realise that regaining those levels is not possible, I can improve a lot, so that’s one of my goals for this year.

After an earlier dalliance with buying a Porsche, (memorably described to me by someone as my “Men-o-Porsche”, which I found rather funny in it’s unerringly accurate one word summary of my “condition”), I have decided that said vehicle won’t give me the combination of speed and luxury that I’m looking for, so I’ve decided that I’ll have a go at one of these:-

If anyone says it’s a hairdresser's car I’ll put you in the boot whilst I put the roof down…

Au revoir…

Prog Personality Of The Year 2010 - Update 28/01/2011

2011-01-28T12:52:00.000-08:00

Hello there,

the Podcast is in production and there is now a small website supporting the poll.

And here it is

PPOTY

Ta V much

The Most Terrifying Video EVER

2011-01-15T00:49:00.000-08:00

PPOTY Update

2011-01-09T15:29:00.000-08:00

Greetings,

All is safely gathered in and I can report a largely trouble free and non-hijacked (with a couple of exceptions) poll.

Unfortunately, due to some technical issues, I will no longer be broadcasting the awards show on DLBN on 15 Jan, but am finalising arrangements for a re-scheduled show and host. More on this exciting development to follow.

The results are an excellent mix and should generate a good listen at least !

Thanks to everyone who voted.

Bert

Prog Personality Of The Year 2010 - Update 20/12/10

2010-12-20T13:01:00.000-08:00

Good News Everyone,

I can exclusively reveal that, thanks to the incredible generosity of The Amazing Wilf, I will be taking over an episode of The European Perspective (http://www.theeuropeanperspective.com broadcast on the Dividing Line Broadcast Network http://www.thedividingline.com), to announce the winners of the Prog Personality of the Year 2010 poll, in a show scheduled for 15 Jan 2011

Remember, vote for who you think has contributed the most to this glorious prog world in 2010, whether that be artist, promoter, label head, forum member, merchandise “technician” or pod-cast DJ !

You can use the voting form on the right hand side of this here blog.

I know there are a lot of polls bidding for your attention at this time year, so thanks for the response so far. The poll will remain open until 31 December 2010.

So vote away ! If nothing else it’ll be a chance for me to “entertain” you with some choice Post-Xmas Prog Cheese a la Bert !!

I will endeavour to have an "official" web page up soon. In the meantime, a Happy Xmas and jolly New Year to you all.

Bert xx

12 Days of Progmas

2010-12-18T06:46:00.000-08:00

My Year In Facebook Status'

2010-12-17T13:37:00.000-08:00

My New Toy

2010-12-12T07:55:00.000-08:00

I succumbed to temptation and bought an iPad to add to my Apple family. It's great ! I heartily recommend it.

One canard to lay to rest though - it isn't a computer, or at least not as we have come to understand the word. The point of the iPad was made obvious to me in an eureka moment I experienced whilst messing about on my iPhone.

The coolest thing about the iPhone is the platform being exploited to run small bespoke applications, known as Apps. These apps, if executed well, have the ability to transport you into a novel computing paradigm, which when coupled with Apples vice like grip of the platform parameters and strict quality control (in a code sense, not in a usability sense) deliver a totally unique and engaging user experience.

In fact, it's almost like the computing interaction you see in science fiction movies. It's all about the interface and absolutely nothing to do with the computer. Of course, Apple have been practising this kind of thing for years in the desktop and laptop market. Say what you like about under specced and over priced, they work without any fettering. Having become a convert I wonder, frankly, what kind of lives people who still use PC's must lead.

Anyway, the experience is so good, you forget you're using a somewhat limited device, overpriced at the point of sale and within an Apple controlled walled garden. The fact is, you don't care because it's so well tailored and presented. Well, you might care if you're a "computer geek" but for the vast majority of us, the iPhone delivers.

As someone ought to have said, it's about the usability, stupid.

And the eureka moment ? Simply that the iPad is a device to further exploit this market and paradigm that Apple have created out of nothing. It's not there to replace your laptop. (That said, given the relatively cumbersome dimensions and weight of a laptop I can see the virtue of an iPad for virtually all mobile computing needs, and as more and more content is stored in the "cloud" and wi-fi etc becomes ubiquitous, why would you want to carry around a weighty brick of processor, screen and storage ? If I were a laptop manufacturer, I think I'd be feeling pretty scared).

On the face of it, functionality is again limited and as a device you certainly pay for it. But one touch is all you need to be utterly convinced of its brilliance and absolute mastery of form and function. If you need further convincing, go to one of those temples of tech called an Apple Store, fight your way through the hordes of schoolchildren and students (none of whom can afford the gear sold there), and have a play.

If you're lucky enough to bump into one of the store assistants, buy an iPad, go home and load up Google Earth and then tell me you're not smitten.

By way of a complete contrast, I am thinking about starting a campaign to rid our supermarkets of the horror of the self-service checkout. I can't pass one of these machines without it squawking "unexpected item in bagging area" at me. Alcohol needs clearance at MI5 levels, and DVD's and CD's need releasing from incarceration that would defeat Houdini.

Then there's the question it asks you if you try and buy some paracetamol, " You are allowed to buy 2 packets Yes/No?" to which, I am sure, either answer gives rise to the red light and a wait for the inevitably harassed assistant.

He's harassed because his boss told him that this would be much more fun than scanning 20 items a minute for hours on end. He thought he was onto a good thing; "Let the punters take the strain, so I can concentrate on pulling Sharon, the checkout Captain". It's the kind of job that an embittered assistant store manager gives to an over keen History Major who's joined the company on the fast-track graduate scheme.

If you want to save tomorrow's graduates from this fate, assuming they've climbed down from The Cenotaph by then, campaign to your local supermarket for the return of the traditional checkout. Even better, undertake a form of nonviolent protest by entering the shop, placing every "restricted" item you can find (and I guarantee you'll find loads, such is the trust they have for you) into your basket, and very slowly scan each item and then just leave the contents there and walk out.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Main Rd,,United Kingdom

Prog Personality Of The Year 2010

2010-12-04T05:40:00.001-08:00

Greetings

As a bit of fun last year, I instigated the inaugural "Prog Personality Of the Year" award, to recognise in a non-financial and indeed, non-ceremonial way, the person(ality) whom, above all, graced this thing we call "Prog" .

And I feel like doing it again !

Last year the imperious Twang won the popular vote, and well deserved it was too.

Vote for who you like, whether that be artist, promoter, label head, forum member, merchandise “technician” or pod-cast DJ. I'll gather the votes and announce the winner on 1st January 2011 (hangover notwithstanding)

You can use the voting form at the right hand side of this here blog.

All votes carry the same weight, so in the best British tradition, it's a first past the post system (none of that liberal dalliance with AV here ;))

Ithangu !

2010-12-02T12:54:00.001-08:00

http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=451502650736

So You Need A Typeface

2010-11-23T06:39:00.000-08:00

Foxy Update

2010-11-14T14:55:00.000-08:00

In an amazing and entirely unexpected turn of events, I had a reply to something I sent to Victoria Coren on Twitter.

And people say they can't see the point of it.

Twitter, that is...

I can confirm that the word "injunction" formed no part of her reply.

Perhaps it was news of me assaying forth to London and back in the following conveyance that did it....

Inside, it was much more tasteful though...

Barney With Attitude---Straight Outta Compton

2010-11-14T11:29:00.000-08:00

Foxes In Disguise

2010-11-07T11:27:00.000-08:00

If, like me, you find the world of celebrity completely off-putting, I invite you to join me in a celebration of a group of women I call “Foxes In Disguise”.

Now, a FiD is not generally lauded in magazines such as Nuts etc, so if you're footballer, look away now. No, your typical FiD has talents beyond mere looks but what distinguishes them all above all is the “In Disguise” bit. These are attractive women who don’t confirm to the societal “norms” of attractiveness, “left-field” if you will, but for those of us in the know, their fox-ness is plainly evident.

Here's a starting list of FiD's that have caught my discerning eye.

Jessica Ransom

Jessica is a comedienne who has starred in one-woman shows at the Fringe as well as occasional appearances on the Armstrong and Miller show. Clearly a woman then that you could have a jolly good night out with and who wouldn’t require you to tell her jokes. Phew, pressure off then.

Stephanie Flanders

BBC Economics Editor - My heart stops every time she utters the phrase "fiscal deficit". She also wears knee length leather boots on the BBC 10 O'Clock news. Nurse, the screens !!

Kirstie Allsop

Reality TV Person, but I'm assuming she only does that for a bit of an ironic laugh. Soft and warm, you'd never have to worry that your house was anything other than “smashing”. Perhaps some might query a certain mumsiness, but I just have to hear her speak in those rich, posh tones

Nicola Walker

Ruth from Spooks. Intelligent, smart, brave with a far away wistfulness that demands you to hug and protect her and to offer undying love and support for ever and ever. That Harry Pierce needs to up his game, I think. Plenty of winter walks followed by a bottle of Red whilst curled u in a big jumper, I'd wager.

Victoria Coren

Writer, blogger, Porn film Director (yes really) and Poker Player. What's not to like ? Victoria is also presenter of the BBC's brainiest quiz show, Only Connect. And you just know that she's smarter than most of the contestants. I imagine her to be funny, sharp and with a temper not to be trifled with – an excellent mix in my view. Although she has some slightly suspect politics (well, it'd be something to talk about), her mind disguises superior level hotness, barely.

This one almost blew my mind !!!

More FiD's as and when I discover them. Feel free to suggest some others :-) As for any accusations of sexism, I'd just like to say that I bow to no man in my respect, awe and worship of women. I wish they knew...

The Satch Report Part 2.m4v

2010-11-07T04:58:00.000-08:00

DOTR 2.m4v

2010-10-30T07:44:00.000-07:00

At Ease Everyone

2010-10-13T12:31:00.000-07:00

The Defence Of The Realm - 2

Not Forgetting...

The Universe and You

2010-10-03T03:16:00.000-07:00

It is said that if one were shown oneself in relation to the entire universe, one would go mad. Let's check it out then...

http://primaxstudio.com/stuff/scale_of_universe/

TBRS - The Last Word

2010-09-30T06:13:00.000-07:00

A Big Red Spark Yesterday

In what I promise is the very last word on Tinyfish and their new album, The Big Red Spark, at least for a while, I found this review on Amazon which I thought is probably, really, the last word.

TBRS ROCKS !

Although Tinyfish are tagged a "prog" band (whatever that means), their music is resolutely song-based, fresh and original without falling into the myriad traps that await other practitioners, or indeed listeners, of the genre.

In truth, "progressive" describes a mindset rather than a musical genre, with space for just about anything, and Tinyfish fit in brilliantly. On this album, the production values have taken a big step forward compared to their last full studio album, with drums, guitar and vocals all benefiting from a fuller and more upfront delivery, underpinned by monumental bass work. It sounds HUGE, and really brings to notice the talent of the three musical protagonists.

The band itself is made up of four friends who, in various guises and in various forms, have been together since their youth in and around South London. All are accomplished performers who have learnt their trade the traditional way, through relentless gigging. In The Big Red Spark, this shared apprenticeship pays dividends, and then some. Make no mistake; this is the album of their lives.

In turns full throttle hard rock ("Rainland"), contemplative balladry ("I'm Not Crashing") and steaming swamp-blues ("Weak Machine" - my personal favourite), Tinyfish wear their influences on their sleeves but filter it all through a sound definably their own - the mark of all great bands.

Overarching the entire musical journey is the narrative thread of the Inventor who creates a machine that links the entire human race together through their dreams and onwards to Armageddon (possibly). As with all good concept albums, the story is both literal and interpretive and whilst not entirely unique (a good comparison would be Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds), dishes up a believable context and a real "visual" dimension to the music and the songs.

This might be a recipe for disaster ("prog" is littered with badly executed and naff "concept albums") if it wasn't for the fact that the songs and story weave around each other in a supremely stylish way. There is a real flourish and sense of theatrical timing in the way that the band have utilised narration, music and sound effects to great dramatic effect, particularly in the almost terrifying climax of the story in "Activation" and "The Final Act".

If ever an album leant itself to a film or play dramatisation, it is this one; like The Wall, it's not beyond the realms of possibility that in future, presentations of the music and story will be performed in schools and theatres. It really is that good.

The album proper ends with a 10 minute song (so it IS prog after all !) that never outstays its welcome, and acts as a superb denouement and come down after the breathless musical journey that precedes it. Initial copies of the album are bundled with a free DVD containing another 4 new tracks and a filmed interview with the band.

Tinyfish aren't just one the of the best prog bands in UK, they are one of best bands in the UK, period. Already fully deserving of the 9 out of 10 review by Geoff Barton in the respected magazine, Classic Rock, The Big Red Sparks oozes class and crossover appeal and if ever an album deserved to break a band into the next level (or ten) of sales and recognition, it is this one. Buy it. You won't regret it.

Irritated

2010-09-13T12:35:00.000-07:00

Some things that are irritating me...

WILLIAM HAGUE

What a strange world we live in, where men cannot enjoy each others company without a load of schoolyard sniggering taking place.

And they're all supposed emancipated, unprejudiced liberals in the media these days.

What exactly is wrong with sharing a twin room whilst (effectively) on business ? There you are, trying to save money on the campaign trail and set an example, and all some grubby blogger can think of to satisfy his prurient onanist fantasies is that they must be rogering each other.

Man smiles at other Man. It's a scandal.

BLAIR

Could have been anything he wanted to but decided to waste his talents on becoming a Lawyer and then a Politician. Imagine the good he could have done to the World.

What a waste. Him and Brown spent 12 years arguing and trying to compete with each other, completely forgetting that they were supposed to be running the country.

It's not about YOU, you megalomaniacs !

That said he was right about Saddam and Iraq.

LABOUR LEADERSHIP

Still not sure they still really "get it"; 70% of the electorate voted against you - a fairly damning assessment in my opinion.

All you need to know about this lot is contained within Liam Byrnes breathlessly arrogant parting letter to David Laws:-

"6 April 2010

Dear Chief Secretary

I’m afraid there is no money.

Kind regards – and good luck!

Liam"

Having brought the country to the edge of bankruptcy, the decent thing Labour politicians can do, especially those who served in the last Governmant, is to undertake a period of silence and quiet reflection, followed by a heartfelt apology to the British people for the compete arsewipe and utter waste of 13 years in power.

ANDY COULSON

Not one single shred of new evidence has emerged from a case reignited by a turf war over in the New York press.

At the point he becomes a Press Officer of a Government that bullied an innocent man into suicide, then you can stake a claim to the moral high ground.

CUTS

The National Debt is being added to at the rate of £3Bn per week

My last company made 20,000 people redundant, and I didn't hear Bob Crowe mutter a word (I worked for a bank you see)

Who exactly is the working man ? By definition, surely it's everyone who works for a living ? Unless you are very lucky, most people work for a living. Some of them get paid more than others, some less. But when the unreconstructed Trade Unionists go on about protecting the rights of the worker, they don't really mean me, do they ? I wonder who they do mean ?

It is not credible to claim that savings cannot be made, or that we can go on as we are. It's a big scare story that this will automatically mean an erosion in services. Who exactly are the ideologues here?

BOB DIAMOND

First mistake - being a banker. Second mistake, being an American Banker.

What remuneration should you pay to the person who heads up a global organisation the size of Barclays ? £25k ? £50k? £500k?

Now ask the same question about your fave footballer, or rock star.

And then ask it about yourself.

Note where your prejudices lie.

MOANING THAT THE COALITION WAS "NOT WHAT WE VOTED FOR"

On an individual basis no - there was no option. But in totality, yes.

Many a time I've heard people say that a colation woud be an ideal outcome. Well, now you've got one, so shut up and get on with it.

I think it's a crock, but there you are. .

Genius !

2010-08-24T01:57:00.000-07:00

The News In Full

2010-08-20T06:42:00.000-07:00

Well well well, what a busy month it's been hereabouts. So we'll just get right on with it shall we ? I should warn you that this post is going to be very long, and you may need some stamina to get through it all.

HIGH VOLTAGE MATCH REPORT

End of July saw attendance at the Festival apparently "Built By Rock Fans, for rock Fans", namely High Voltage, held in Victoria Park in London's glamorous East End. I've had some lovely times with Marketing and PR folk, but I do sometimes wish they wouldn't insult the punter's intelligence by strapping bollocks like that mentioned above to their events

The “Festival built for Rock Fans By Gouging Shysters”, might have been closer to the mark. That said, the line-up was pretty spectacular, if you like that kind of thing, which I do. As soon as I knew ELP were to reunite and play together, they had my money. I make no apologies.

In a sudden rash of generosity, or stupidity, I also bought so called VIP access which bought me, well not very much really other than a cloth bag with a load of mags I already had and a T-Shirt that doesn’t fit my currently ample frame. It wasn’t entirely the "behind the velvet rope" experience that was promised, although it did deliver in terms of toiletage and bar area.

I'm told that the festival wasn’t very well attended, although it looked pretty full to me, but it is true that the VIP area was very quiet, which was kinda nice to have that retreat as I'm not that fond of crowds (so you may well ask why Iwent - but then, I've never claimed to be consistent). Of course, once in the VIP area, it became clear that one was merely inhabiting the outside circle of a range of concentric circles, each more exclusive than the last. It was a bit like that Frasier episode where the brothers get invited to join an exclusive Spa only to find that there are a series of doors beyond which they cannot venture without a further “exclusive” invite, which of course as the shameless social climbers they are, leads to total mental breakdown as they pursue the unreachable dream.

In the High Voltage version, just beyond the fence there dwelt stars of rock's firmament, such as Jimmy Page, Steve Wilson, the whole of BigElf (who got my prize as the most Rock STAR-ry group of the weekend - all tall, long hair, Californian tan and incredibly handsome, but very polite and humble too) and a load of other people I can't be arsed to name drop.

Not that I was bothered, of course... ;-)

Following a long hike from Mile End tube to Victoria Park (whoever said it was a 10 minute walk is a sadist) another hike within VP to get to the site, a 30 minute wait to collect tickets and then a queue to get in, it was unfortunately too late to catch the very first bands (Touchstone), set. I arrived just in time to see the hardest working man in Prog, Johnny Mitchell, guesting on the encore, throwing shapes and unleashing a brill solo.

After a lengthy reconnoiter of the site, including availing myself of the VIP facilities, I caught a bit of Luke Morley’s new band, The Union, who impressed mightily in a Thunder kind of stylee.

For the rest of the day, it was a sojourn under the big tree near the Prog Stage (it was very hot the first day so the shade was welcome, as was the nearby beer tent. Although £4 for can of something called "Tuborg" seemed a little steep).

By the time I arrived there from the Main Stage, I was amazed to see a huge number watching Dutch veterans Focus (famous for the yodeling hit, Hocus Pocus). Clearly as mad as a box of frogs, they pulled a crowd of all ages.

They were followed by BigElf, who have to be seen to believed. Fronted by a mascaraed, top-hat wearing musical polymath, they combine Glam and Prog sensibilities from the 70's with a keen modern edge. BigElf have their own sound, readily identifiable and uniquely theirs, together with a fantastic songwriting talent. They deserve to be massive.

Next up was Dweezil (son of Frank) Zappa, whose incredible band served up, what was for me, the highlight of the weekend. By this time, I'd imbibed a few "Tuborg's" and was hanging out with prog friends Mike Evans (photographer to the stars) and his mate, Owain one of the guitarists from Welsh band The Reasoning. He turned out to be a top chap and a Zappa freak, so he guided me through the set, not being familiar with Zappa's canon myself. Side-stage, Mike Portnoy, a well known Zappa devotee, lived every drum fill and was clearly enjoying himself immensely. At 5pm, on a warm, sunny Saturday afternoon, under the prog tree, slightly drunk, Dweezil Zappa playing up a storm with his Father's music was just perfect.

I've never liked Asia, a bit to twee for me, but I thought that they were brilliant doing the right thing by making use of their 50 minutes by playing their debut album in it's entirety. Then came Transatlantic...

Transatlantic are a prog 'supergroup' made up of members from Dream Theater, (ex-) Spocks Beard, Marillion and the Flower Kings. They get together about once every 5 years, and last year delivered an album called The Whirlwind. Never a band to avoid excess and prog-rock cliches, this album consists of one, 76 minute long track (although subdivided into 12 chunks) which sounds excessive, and indeed, is.

I hated it when I first heard it, and decided to skip their recent tour this year (I saw them once at the Astoria in London years ago, and thoroughly enjoyed it, but found even my patience wearing thin when they announced a 30 minute song for the encore. The whole gig had the smallest ratio of songs to time that I've ever attended.) I'm kind of glad I did, because that would have taken the edge off a superb performance of the entire album, which really came together live.

As I said at the time, Transatlantic were simply transcendent, and they topped a fantastic gig off with a encore of Return of the Giant Hogweed (early Genesis track) with a guesting Steve Hackett sending the crowd off on a cloud.

And that was Saturday.

Sunday was a tad more overcast, which actually was pretty good for me. It seemed to me that a lot more people attended on Sunday; certainly there were more people around the Prog Stage. Looking back though, as ELP were headlining I guess that brought out more people of that persuasion. In all, the line-up for Sunday was nowhere near as strong as for Saturday. Certainly, with the exception of the Reasoning, Steve Hackett and Argent (who must take the prize for writing the most songs that were huge hits for someone else award) the acts on the Prog Stage were pretty turgid and uninspiring.

Oh, sorry, better not include Marillion in the "turgid and uninspiring" category either..

Elsewhere, on the Main Stage at some point, I caught UFO, who plagued with technical problems delivered a bit of a disjointed set - not their fault but a bit of a shame nonetheless.

The main event on Sunday was of course the headlining appearance of the peerless Emerson, Lake and Palmer, the musical equivalent of Millwall (everyone hates them, and they don’t care). After a delay caused by up-their-own-arses behaviour by Joe Elliot and Ian hunter, who really ought to get a perspective on their positions in Rock's firmament, show time brought a huge crowd to watch these old masters. Whether it was idle curiosity or a real desire to watch a legend in the flesh, the crowd was made up of young and old alike, including a rather satisfying number of Rock Chicks intent in shaking their stuff to 9/8 polyrhythms.

I think the thing that people miss about ELP is that they come from a completely different place to most rock groups, in that they are not grounded in the Blues and Rock and Roll, and people just don’t “get it”. They have effectively been written out of rock's history by the revisionist musical historians, who discount Prog Rock in general and ELP in particular, only lending it validity as the catalyst to explain the so called Punk Explosion of '76/'77. But I can tell you that what they did was musical risk taking of the highest order; can you imagine anyone today taking a complete classical work like Mussorgsky's Pictures At An Exhibition and turning it into something extraordinary and daringly different ? Actually, can you imagine a group even capable of doing such a thing today ?

Danny Baker got it right when he pointed out that somebody bought those albums in their millions in the 70's, and I refuse to accept that there isn’t a market and a desire for it today. If nothing else, ELP bankrolled the Island label for years, so if you still aren’t convinced, just remember that without ELP, their would have been no Bob Marley, Nick Drake and a whole host of other musical icons that the critics would have you believe are more worthy of their place in the pantheon.

For me I say, look on their works, ye Mighty, and despair.

As for the actual gig, it was one of those weird events where the magic of expectation and the sheer fact that one was THERE seemed to draw a veil over what, actually, was a fairly hit and miss performance. That said, this stuff is not easy to play and it's easy to be overcritical. As it was the crowd loved it, and so did I. It was a shame that there were some technical problems, and a sense that the musicians couldn’t really hear each other, as there were a number of missed cues and some pretty ropey timing in places. What was impressive though was Emerson's demonstration of the power and range of analogue synths. Frankly, I've never heard bass notes like it, as he coaxed that famous Moog modular synth through the Lucky Man solo. A word too for Greg Lake's voice, which seemed in fine nick.

Star of the show though was Carl Palmer, an extraordinary drummer whom I'd never seen live. His solo was fantastic, topping even Neil Peart (sshhh !) IMHO and he carried the show, being the axle to Emerson and Lake's wheels.

True to form, ELP were completely uncompromising, playing songs that were by turns obscure, tricky and far from popular from their oeuvre. And quite right too - this was their gig and they had come to reclaim what was theirs, and by and large, notwithstanding the above, they did.

And that was High Voltage. Despite the high prices and the complete arse ache of getting there, and a less than inspiring bill on the Sunday, I thought it worked pretty well and proved to me at least, that the market for the Classic Rock, Prog and Metal genres is healthy and not just confined to the tour-t-shirt wearing over 40's. There were so many young, good looking, fit and vibrant youngsters there across all the stages, that it gave me confidence that our music is in good hands and that the battle against skinny white boys playing jangly guitars and singing about the suburbs is in good hands...

The ROCK will continue !

BOB HAS A CURRY

I think I caught a bit of a cold at High Voltage, as the following week I felt a bit odd. I didn't bother with my normal Gym trip on the Saturday, and when it came round to tea time, decided to have a "red hot Vindaloo" to see if I could shift it.

At about 4am on the Sunday, I awoke with a burning pain in my chest, which no amount of indigestion treatments or Peppermint Tea could shift. It eventually eased though, but was still there, but at least I cold get back to sleep.

At about noon I checked the NHS Direct website for advice, and it said "Call 999 immediately" in big, red scary letters. I decided to not do that, but to make my way to A&E anyway. Once there I was triaged within about 3 minutes and 2 minutes later found myself on a bed and the first of a series of needles inserted into me.

About an hour later, during which time I'd convinced myself that it WAS just indigestion, as otherwise if it were something more serious, they wouldn't have left me so long, a Doctor appeared saying that I had an "elevated Troponin count" in my blood but that my ECG was OK. Troponin is an enzyme that gets released into the blood if the heart muscle suffers some damage, although at the time, I was told that it was probably angina.

I was given the choice of having 2 injections either in my arm or in my stomach, which didn't really seem to be much of a choice and off I was wheeled to the Cardiac Ward. By this time, my family was panicking, as I had not been able to speak to them as there was no signal in A&E. Instead, a well meaning nurse proceeded to scare the bjeesus out of them, and me, by announcing that I had had a heart attack.

The funny thing I find about hospitals is that they are designed for the sick, weak and old; I never felt any of those things applied to me, so when I was being talked to, very slowly, by various Nurses and Doctors it seemed to me that I had slipped through to an alternative reality, where time and motion seem to be 10 times slower than the real world outside. Frankly, I felt it was a somewhat out of body experience which given the circumstances, was somewhat worrying.

Reality soon impinged by way of another needle, this time a cannula, which was attached to some bag of liquid, purpose and type uncertain although I'm sure it was explained to me. There then also began a series of visits by Doctors of increasing seniority, asking me the same questions over and over again, and followed by another cannula, this time in my left hand pumping some clot busting drugs into me.

The pain in my chest, now a "1-2 out of 10" score on my personal pain-o-meter was subsiding, but not quick enough for the Doctors, who decided that enough was enough and told me that they were going to perform an emergency Angioplasty.

All this came as bit of shock, I can tell you. Having never been "ill" before and not "in the system", I was completely unprepared. More than that, I'd never felt ill, and felt sure that had I been at risk, I would have had some warning signs. Now, all of a sudden, I was lying on a table with a Doctor telling me that there was a small risk that I might die from the procedure, but not as high as the risk of me dying if I didn't have it done.

Another fine choice...

What one is supposed to say at times likes that is beyond me, and I think I just sort of murmured "OK". I was left in the hands of a couple of nurses to prepare me, one of whom was very kind to me as he realised that I was absolutely terrified. It's an odd thing that your brain does, or at least mine does, in moments of great stress. Intellectually, I completely understood what was going to happen, the rationale and the risk equation and I was able to absorb and understand it completely. My higher brain functions were in perfect working order, acutely aware of the predicament. My lower brain functions, the bits that say Run, Hide, Eat, Sleep etc were also sharply tuned to my predicament and it was all I could do to suppress my fight-or-flight reflex. Both those separate streams of consciousness were there, both at the same time, my upper brain desperately trying to sooth, via intellectual process, the panicky lower brain that wanted to run down the corridor.

I don't know how much of this you want to know really, but the Angioplasty procedure is a modern medical miracle. A small catheter is inserted into your radial artery in the arm or, if you're decrepit, the femoral artery in the groin. This catheter is fed through the artery into the chest and thence to the heart. During my procedure, I could feel the catheter moving up my arm to the extent that it hurt quite a bit. I was given some Morphine, which resulted in an extremely weird 5 minutes or so.

I was asked whether the pain had gone, and I answered that it hadn't but I didn't want any more of "that f*****g stuff" in me.

Once the catheter is near the heart, a X-Ray senstive dye is released into the blood vessels around the heart, whilst a big X-Ray machine moves around one's chest, tracking the dyes progress through the coronary arteries and displaying the results in real time, on a bank of video screens in view of the Cardiologist.

A Cardiac Cath Lab Yesterday

They said I could watch if I wanted.

I declined

Once the blockage is found, another catheter is fed through containing a balloon and a small cylindrical metal cage called a stent. This is placed at the narrowing point and gently inflated, thus opening the cage and opening the artery. The cage is then left in place, and everyone hopes that it'll keep the artery open.

Cutting a long story short, by the time I got back to the Coronary Care Unit I felt fabulous and spent the next 2 days kicking back before being discharged with a solemn promise from me to the Consultant not to smoke, ever, again, a whole load of books about being a model citizen and an armful of drugs which I now have to take every day.

From what I've been able to discover since then, given the high enzyme level and a weird ECG, they tell me that I had a mild heart attack, in my case caused by a blockage in the left circumflex artery.

At 45, I'm not especially proud of this, and don't actually feel that I've led too unhealthy a lifestyle to cause it (stop sniggering at the back). But the facts speak for themselves, so to avoid a repetition I have to make lifestyle changes, principal amongst which is giving up fags and losing weight, and then a whole load of dietary stuff that we all know. Luckily, my other arteries are fine, so I'm hoping that I can prove the case and not suffer any further incidents.

That said, there are still dangers of complications, as well as no evidence of long term success of the procedure - basically as a fairly recent innovation, no one really knows the how long stents last. I'm trying to put those thoughts to the back of my mind and concentrate on getting well and fit again.

Brushes with one's own mortality are a fairly chastening experience, so I'm going to try to be a better man and enjoy stuff a bit more, moan less and not get so angry about stupid shit. I worry a little about work, as doing my job, at least the way I do it, is a pretty full-on experience during which it's not easy to relax and which brings more than it's fair share of stress. It's pretty relentless and I don't know whether I, literally, have the heart for it anymore. Still, it won't be too long before I jump on board that horse again, and find out.

Above all, my recovery has been helped by the enormous kindness and well wishes I received from many people, some of whom, frankly, I never expected to hear from. They were all welcome, and I thank you all very very much.

As I'll never get the chance to build one of those 'thank you' lists you see in the booklets of CD's , I'll finish off by adding one here.

Bob would like to thank the following people for their love, kindness, best wishes and help:-

Jacqui, Edan and Erin, Mum and Dad, Uncle Rod and Aunty Hilary, m-aunty Kate, the family Quilliam, John and Jane Betts, John Reid, Wendy Reid, JD, Roger Tubby, Lesley Tubby, Andy and Jools Banks, Shaun Brown, Steve Day, Marky Barham, Neil Maclennan, Rosie, Carl Grant, my lovely proggy friends - Nellie, Pedro, Mouse, Racing Hippo, Catherine, MikeEvs, Livingforever, Bromman, RogerG, Johninblack and Jonboyes. Paul Tapping, Rob McKillop, Steve Phillips, Allana MacDonald, Nick Phillips, Ian Gladstone, Paul Skippings, Julie Miles, Ricky Ling, Mike Bolton, Katherine Bell, Jemma-Louisa and all my colleagues on the DCS Transformation Programme - thanks for the fruit. Gary Blunt, Tony and Katie Potts, A.J.Giordano, Caroline Furniss, Kim Futter, Gavin McKee, Rowland, Lara Jephson, Jane Wilson, Melanie and Steven Rolfe, Karl Wharam, Anita B, Victoria B, Kev Blazer, DA, Fred Robinson, the staff at Capital Tower, James Youngman, Justin Bowen and the staff at Spring, Jem, The Fishtankers - JamesA, Robh, Ashleaze, The Amazing Wilf, Jim, Robert, Simon, Uncle Bulgaria - see you at the BRS launch party and...

the Doctors and Nurses at the CCU

I think that's everyone :-)

That is all for now. Toodle pip !!

High Voltage Festival - Prog Sunday in Ten Minutes

2010-07-31T07:25:00.000-07:00

HV Prog Stage Highlights - Sat

2010-07-29T15:53:00.000-07:00

High Voltage Match Report... Coming Soon...

2010-07-26T15:33:00.000-07:00

So many cool things to tell you about that I need some time to get them all down into some kind of coherent order.

Meanwhile, a short excerpt of FFTCM by ELP who were, by all accounts, significantly awesome and really jolly loud, hence the distortion on this clip. That said, hopefully you can get get a sense of the occasion.

Now, where's my bandanna...

Nine Months On Fire - Orchestral Mouse Version

2010-07-17T05:31:00.000-07:00

Tis complete. Well done Mouse.

<a href="http://mousemusic.bandcamp.com/track/nine-months-on-fire">Nine Months On Fire by Mouse</a>

Carry On Camping

2010-07-15T16:06:00.000-07:00

Long story this, so pay attention

Last weekend I went camping.

With the kids.

I don't like camping very much (ie at all), but everyone tells me that "the kids love it" which seems justification enough in some people's eyes. Personally, I wonder why it is that my children's enjoyment takes precedence over mine, but there you are.

The only thing I do like about camping is my inflatable armchair. With it's beer bottle sized receptacle in one of the arms, it is a small comfort in what is usually a world of pain and discomfort, together with backed up toilets for comic relief.

T'was upon that very armchair, whilst smokin' a fag and drinking a cool beer, browsing V8.0 of Classic Rock Prog mag, that a chap called Barry (for that was his name) walked by and said:-

"Cor Rush. I love Rush. What's that mag ? A PROG MAG ? I love prog I do"

We then spent a merry 1/2 an hour reminiscing over gigs, albums, tour t-shirts and time signatures that we have loved.

This is what I like about Prog - it's unerring ability to bring people together and the feeling of joy and relief when you find out that someone else likes it too. It's like discovering you're not a freak and alone in the Universe.

And that made me smile...

Is It Because She is Black ?

2010-07-04T14:20:00.000-07:00

Wimbledon is over once again for the year. The English contingent were almost as hopeless as their Football counterparts, although to be fair, none of them were really expected to do very well.

Andrew Murray was a Brit, until he lost, when he reverted to chippy Scot. Why, there was even talk he might not bow to the Queen !! I mean, really, the moody ingrate.

As usual, a William's Sister won the Ladies Final, once again proving that they bestride the game of Women's Tennis like colossi (or at least Serena does). And that got me thinking, as I was watching a little of the final, why it is that there seems to be this grudging acceptance of her dominance, when in the Men's game, Federer and Nadal are lauded as genius' and never gathering the same level of opprobrium as either of the William's sisters, and especially Serena.

It comes through in the very phrases and words used to describe her and her game. And they all seem to stem from the premise that, being a muscular, large, black lady, in some way she isn't entitled to be so good, so overwhelmingly powerful and better than the examples of "pure femininity" beloved (in a slightly creepy way) of old school tennis watchers. Numerous references to her power, her bludgeoning serve and forceful ground strokes, seem to me to be tugging at the vaguely disquieting notion that, as a woman, it is somehow vulgar that she displays the fact that she is better, fitter stronger than the rest.

Contrast this to the slightly effete drooling over the powers of Federer and Nadal. Power here is seen as a good thing; winning multiple titles the stuff of real champions. The discourse reminds us constantly of the grace and skills of Federer and the brooding, Majorcan menace of Nadal. No one says they are boring and repetitive. It's as if, in some way, her dominance is bad for the game, whereas theirs is the mark of genius. .

I wracked my brain to see if I could come up with an answer but I'm pretty sure, and I think it's somewhat shocking, that the reason Serena doesn't get her just desserts and is not lauded as an all time great is purely and simply down to snobbery and, dare I say it, a dash of low level racism.

So she's black, from the wrong side of the the LA tracks. She didn't come through the fresh-white-bread tennis schools of The Hamptons or Martha's Vineyeard. Her old man is a crazy guy who, for some reason, somehow, managed to coach two of his daughters to greatness without a single coaching badge, whilst dodging the gang-land bullets of Los Angeles. You can just see how it must begin to get up the establishment's nose.

The girls selected their tournaments, and still do so today. The remarkable thing is that Serena Williams has played 2 tournaments this year, both majors and won them both. She can't be bothered to schlep around the world playing second rate tournaments just to keep her ranking up. She knows she's the best, so why bother ?

Lastly, she's black and blessed with a full figure. I imagine, for an elite sportswoman, that this takes a lot of effort to keep trim, the muscle on and the fat off and keep up the massive level of aerobic fitness it requires to move herself around court, pulping the pretenders who enter her domain. She's not one of those auto-bot East-European waifs that seem to appear with monotonous regularity, treading a well worn path from Europe to the circuit via Tennis School in Miami and dropping off their personality on the way. And I think the cognoscenti just donlt like it.

So I say, fuck it ! I declare Serena William's a hot, Amazonian Goddess; an absolute genius on court, the best woman player ever, by some margin, and I think she's due some recognition and respect.

And if you donlt give it to her, she'll crush your puny body between her thighs like you are made of matchsticks.

And it'll serve you right.

Postscript.

2010-06-27T09:49:00.001-07:00

Bugger.

That didn't bloody work then,

England's Dreaming

2010-06-20T11:33:00.000-07:00

Every time you think that English football has reached its absolute nadir, the team conspires to demonstrate an unfailing ability to plumb ever deeper lows.

As our footballers (some of whom are paid as little as £80,000 per week) dream up fresh ways to sink the country (avg salary £26,000 per annum) into a pit of despair, fear not, for I think I have the answer...

Yes, while your thoughts were turned to 4-4-2 or 4-5-1, player/manager relationships, to WAG to not-to WAG, roast or not-to roast, I believe I have found the source of the despair.

And I can exclusively reveal that IT'S ALL MY FAULT !!

Or more accurately, it's the fault of my Hackett World Cup 2002 shirt.

I bought this before the World Cup in Japan in 2002, because I liked it and more importantly, because those replica football shirts are, well, not really made for the man with the "fuller" figure, shall we say.

No such probs with Hackett though, outfitters to the stout Yeomanry of England.

I remember the 2002 finals as a period of abject despair until England went out, and then a period of abject boredom. Frankly, it hasn't got any better in the intervening years, what with an appalling display in Germany 2006, a completely unforgettable Euro 2004 and a couldn't-even-be-bothered-to-qualify Euro 2008.

And all the while, brooding with red malevolence, the source of England's despair, it's demon, its mole in the camp, its saboteur, my shirt...

So it's time to say goodbye to that shirt. Not just to throw it in the wardrobe and never wear it again, no... its evil is to strong for that. It must be BURNT, I tell you, BURNT until it's essence is just vapour and gas in the sky, offered as a sacrifice to whatever supreme being has the inside track on footy.

It needs to happen before Wednesday. Stay tuned for the ceremony...

Quickie

2010-06-17T13:16:00.000-07:00

Howdy.

Playlist updates on the RHS. Should you feel the urge, follow the links to find out more.

Just a word on the The Philadelphia Experiment. An awesomely awesome piece of musical grandstanding, done with a huge splash of humour and definitely no Mellotrons. This is what Prog can be, in the hands of the genuinely hugely talented. I urge, nay INSIST that you buy this record from here (Shoppe) where my good friend Nelliebot will fulfil your every Frost* related desire.

Let me be clear. This is amongst the best live albums I have ever heard, and it comes with a DVD too for the uninitiated to immerse yourself in the bonkers world of Frost* and Jem Godfrey. Why, the intro alone is worth the price.

As the Times once said "Sheer Bloody Genius". If there were any kind of justice in this world, this would be huge. Here's the trailer for the gig for the album.

A Talented Mouse

2010-06-13T13:04:00.000-07:00

In the post below, there is a video from a band called Tinyfish (and I promise the next one of these I write will be nothing to do with Tinyfish, or music). It features a young gentleman who goes by the name of Mouse.

Mouse is a rarity in these circles, being young (like REALLY young) and into his Prog. Mouse is a student, studying Music Production etc, and has a musical mind as open and rapacious as any I have met.

I like Mouse; I have met him many times and I enjoy speaking to him about music and his studying and what he's leading up to. He is enthusiastic and open minded and willing to listen to anyone, including old timers like me, who might point him to new stuff (or indeed, old stuff) or the stories that lay behind the music, gigs that we have attended, or just to chinwag about "rawk" in all its forms.

I am also sneakily jealous of Mouse, because he's doing what I always wanted to do. And even if I had, I would STILL be jealous because of the range of tools and techniques and t'Internet and all he has at his disposal today.

Mouse doesn't have a lot of money, being a student, but he does have a lot of time, for the same reason. When he's not studying (and, actually, when he is), he inhabits various band fora, and writes a blog, to which there is a link on the RHS of this one. .

And it is to this , Dear Reader, that I draw your attention. Whilst I know that our Mouse was doing this stuff, I didn't really know how good he actually was. Rather marvellously, through the power of the internet, he has posted a treatment of a Tinyfish (you knew it would get round to them again eventually) tune and put it up on a site called Bandcamp.

Even rather more marvelously, it's really rather fucking good. He clearly has a good ear and a lovely taste in symphonic arrangement that, it seems to me, belies his tender years. A career in movie soundtracks awaits, I think.

And here it is, for your delectation.

<a href="http://mousemusic.bandcamp.com/track/nine-months-on-fire-orchestral-part-1">Nine Months On Fire (Orchestral) (Part 1) by Mouse</a>

PS - I've been asked to point out that, apropos my last blog and the £50 bet on the winner of the election, that I jibbed on actually coughing up the cash.
PPS - On the subject of coughing up, one has been labouring with a chest infection for a couple of weeks. Unpleasant, but it has had the the silver lining of meaning I've kicked the fags... again...

Until next time then, cheerio and "C'mon England !"

Politics, Prog and Chickens

2010-05-09T11:26:00.000-07:00

Hi-de-hi.

So, the Election ? Phew, cor blimey guv'nor, didn’t see that coming. In fact, I didn’t, and lost a £50 bet as I was the only person in the country, seemingly, who plumped for an outright Tory majority. So, Dave and the boys want to get into bed with the Liberals, and being good liberals, they've lifted up their skirts and shown a bit of leg to keep things interesting.

Apparently, the Tories were only 16,000 votes short of an overall majority, but that doesn't count because they don’t believe in PR. And because of the Liberal Democrats so called, "triple lock" system, put in place after Paddy Ashdown was roundly shafted by Blair in the mid-90's, the fate of the country will now be determined by a group of so called "Liberal Activists". There's democracy for you - expect a lot more of this kind of shenanigans if PR becomes a reality. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Choice moment of the election was when metaphor and real life collided in spectacular style, when a car crash literally occurred a few yards away from the Labour relaunch following the infamous bigot affair. This was closely followed by Labour's deathbed conversion and Mandelson's subsequent feline positioning on voting reform, a policy, let us not forget, included in Labour's manifesto since 1997 but conveniently forgotten until it came to squeaky bottoms this time around.

I also couldn’t figure out why being posh and well educated is apparently seen as an undesirable quality in a prospective leader. I've heard it said that it's because they "can’t relate to ordinary people". I don’t know about you, but I know lots of "ordinary people", and indeed count myself as one of them. Would you give me the job ? Thought not, and I wouldn’t give it to you either (no offence). Personally, I would rather have extra-ordinary and exceptional people running the Government,

In any case, what’s ordinary about Brown ? Or Mandelson ? Or Harperson ?

Right, anyway, this weekend saw some excellent prog-related adventures in Leamington Spa, of all places. This was part of a Prog festival called Progeny, held annually. This year there was a fringe too, and it was that that I went to see. I was joined there by the most well connected lady in Prog and my good buddy Nelliebot; we hung out in a student bar, drank champagne and generally felt old and out of place (it was prog, after all).

Here we all are:-

From l-r we have:- James (aka LFE), Karin (aka Philadephia), John (aka Racing Hippo), Nellie and yours truly, looking a bit grumpy actually - not sure why as I most decidedly WAS NOT, OK !!!!. Picture was taken by Dena from the It Bites forum, whom it was lovely to meet also.

As for the shirt, I make it a rule never to go to prog gigs wearing a band t-shirt; I consider it my duty to "do different", as we say in Norfolk.

Downstairs in a cellar bar was where the action was, featuring an acoustic set by Christina Booth and Chris Fry followed by John Mitchell and John Beck performing some It Bites and Kino tunes. To stand in a small bar, hearing musicians of such quality was/is brilliant, although it has to be said that Nellie's anarchic streak meant that we didn’t (couldn't) stay too long for Tina (or "Dorothy" as she is now known) and Chris.

One of the neatest things about these gigs is that nobody minds if you go and say hello (that goes for musicians and AND audience !), so it was good to meet John Mitchell (the Hardest Working Man in Prog (tm)) and the legendary John Beck. I ended up have a good chat to JB over a beer after the gig and after a while, when he realised I wasn't a fanboy, he loosened up and was a real pleasure; mad as a box of frogs, but a really top bloke, as was JM. A top bloke, I mean...

The following day was an acoustic gig by the mighty Tinyfish,

Tinyfish are a totally different proposition in the sometimes samey world of prog. Resolutely song based and with a slightly unhinged edge in both presentation and performance, they deserve some real success. I was delighted to at last meet Simon Godfrey, chief songwriter and singer, who told me some details about the new album (The Big Red Spark). He seems very excited about it, and from what I've heard from those who have heard a rough mix, he should be.

Here's a photo of the very excellent Tinyfish in full flight recently:-.

Credit to Bo Johansson for this pic.

There's a new video blog too:-

Anyway, Tinyfish are a great band and a top set of blokes and you should really check them out. It's prog, but not as you know it. If there's any justice in this world, the classic rock press will give Tinyfish and the album a big push, as they really deserve a higher profile and the success that should follow from it.

BTW, I've added a tweak to the playlist on the LHS of the blog by adding links. Follow the link to find interesting stuff, whether it's the lyrics or a relevant website.

You're welcome.

In other news, Project Chicken has come to fruition and Gable End is now host to 4 ex-free range hens rescued from Little Hen Rescue, a charity based just down the road from here.

Here a some pics of the Ladies. Their names are Comanche, Deirdre, Twin A and Twin B.

The good news is that egg production has started, but they have a lot of work to do before they break even. Obviously, I don't expect immediate payback, but I am monitoring their MI very closely and have a number of management actions standing by should the team begin to fall off target.

Here some things they don't tell you on the websites about Chickens:-

Free Range Hens are often in as poor condition as battery reared one's
They fight, quite viciously actually, in order to establish, literally, the pecking order. Apparently a Cockerel will sort this out, as he keeps the girls in line...
They can decimate a garden in days
Like most things, you can end up spending a fortune on stuff.
They are the closest living relative to T-Rex
They think everything is food, inc cigarette ash and toes ! (and food)
They LUURVE grapes ! But then, who doesn't...?
They crap EVERYWHERE - In fact, I cannot believe the amount of shit 1 chicken can produce per day, or the size of some of it frankly. In fact, 1 Chicken produces almost as much shite as 1 politician. How do I know ? Well, we've just spent the last 4 weeks listening to most of it, haven't we ?

Rock Ego's Ahoy !

2010-04-07T13:35:00.000-07:00

Regular viewers will need no reminding of an article wot I wrote regarding the reunification of those points on Progs musical triangle, namely Messrs Emerson, Lake and Palmer (It really is 70sagain)

I speculated at the time that, given the duration between announcement and gig, things would have ample time to fuck up. However, I put my hand (and faith) in my pocket and shelled out a not inconsiderable sum to catch the legend at the High Voltage Festival (now's a good time to throw a devil's horn sign if you like and shout "RAWK !" very loudly indeed).

In the meantime, Keith and Greg decided to put together a short two-man tour of the USA, presumably in preparation and giving them a chance to hone their chops for the big event. On the face of it, a positive move.

The world held its breath. And then...

The day of the first concert. Gear loaded in, soundcheck complete, the audience in their SEATS waiting... and waiting...

Turns out Keith (veteran performer of over 40 years, a man so inward and introspective that he still regularly throws knives about the stage and embeds them into an old beaten up Hammond Organ whilst performing unspeakable auto-erotic acts with a Moog) caught a bad case of stage fright and jibbed on the gig!

The Prog world, having lurched off axis in believing the ELP reunion would actually happen, breathed a huge sigh of relief as normal ELP-car-crash-&-ego-warfare service was resumed, and lurched happily back to equilibrium. Here is Keith's note to the fans...

"I must apologise for the very last-minute cancellation of the show in Lakewood, and also of Glenside and Ridgefield shows, and for my absence of an issuance of any sort of statement.

The production we had hoped to put on was lacking in its musical and technical preparations. I was too distraught and embarrassed to come on stage to perform or even to announce the sudden cancellation myself, and to issue a statement immediately. What we were embarking upon was completely new ventures for both of us. I could not appear in front of an audience with high-expectations unprepared. At that particular time, the quality of music I wished to present was more important to me than my reputation or financial gain. I now realize fully that the decision had a devastating effect on many including fans, my crew, staff, the promoters and the venues.

I will make every effort to fulfil our commitments to fans and friends at the re-scheduled dates in May for the cancelled shows.

I realize that I have disappointed my loyal fans. I know that many of you have travelled afar, used your precious vacation days, and spent your hard-earned money just to see the show. I am very sorry not only to those who came to Lakewood and those who bought tickets for Glenside and Ridgefield shows, but also all fans for whom I have deep respect.

I hope you can accept us delivering good shows, starting on Monday, April 5 in Annapolis, as a form of sincere apology.

Keith Emerson"

Mmmmm, "deep respect"...

Meanwhile back on earth, the erstwhile "P" of the trio, couldn't resist a bit of a dig together with a neat line in self -promotion...

"Dear Friends and Fans of ELP,

It is with great sadness that I have heard about the abrupt cancellation of opening night to the EVENING WITH KEITH EMERSON / GREG LAKE tour.

My commitments to ASIA and The Carl Palmer Band had made it impossible to perform at this time with Keith and Greg.

I have not spoken with either Keith or Greg, but I am very proud of the legacy that ELP has created. When I return to North America in October / November 2010, with The Carl Palmer Band, I will be performing much of that familiar music once more. In the end, it is our music that has made the difference, not the individuals, and it deserves to live on. That is the least I can do for the countless numbers of fans that have always been there for all three of us over these last 40 years.

Thank you, and I will see you in the fall of this year.

Sincerely.

Carl Palmer"

Given that he hadn't spoken to either Keith or Greg, this seems like a pre-emptive strike to avoid any flak from what I can only assume he thought would be imminent meltdown. Can't say I blame him

Finally, Greg Lake got in on the act. Here is his "letter to the fans", with hilarious and helpful "reading between the lines bits" supplied by "JamesA" from the Tinyfish forum:-

"A MESSAGE FROM GREG AND HIS MANAGEMENT ABOUT THE USA TOUR DATES
UPDATE: Official Statement from Greg 'the good guy' Lake

To all my friends and fans: It is with great sadness that we were forced to cancel our shows in Ohio, Pennsylvania and Connecticut. It was all Keith's fault.

I am pleased Keith has admitted the reasons behind the cancellation, and I trust we can leave it at that. As if.

The performance was ready; many of you heard or saw the sound check. Keith and I are both perfectionists. Carl isn't, which is why he is not a part of this.

You will see that Keith has released a statement on his site explaining he felt the need to cancel because of his worry that he couldn't perform up to standard. Keith is not the first performer to have experienced stage fright, and my heart goes out to him, the big poof.

This has been a difficult time and we are now moving forward with a show we both believe is technically and musically wonderful. The crew and performers rehearsed non stop through February and March. I have dedicated my life to trying to make you happy through my music and nothing saddens me more than to see that you have been disappointed by anything I was involved in even if it was definitely not my fault. Please accept that these cancellations were entirely beyond my control (it is all Keith's fault) and know that I am doing everything possible to ensure that these shows are rescheduled as soon as possible - me = good, Keith = bad.

I am looking forward to seeing each of you again even if Keith does have to be there with us. I take my fans, music, and personal and professional reputation very seriously and if Keith screws it up again I'll be the one using the knives.

Thank you for all your kindness and support. Please send all hate mail to Keith.

Greg Lake"
Really, you couldn't make it up.

Given the immense forces at play, if they do manage to creak on stage in July, I expect nothing less than the discovery of the Higgs-Boson when the forces of their egos collide.

Ah well, such is (Prog) Rock's rich tapestry. You just don't get this kind of fun with Coldplay now do you ?

The Dividing Line Report 1 & 2

2010-04-05T12:47:00.000-07:00

The madness and genius of Jem Godfrey...

Part 1...

Part 2...

Public Service for all Women

2010-03-09T12:58:00.000-08:00

As you will know by now, we at TVFGE like to provide a public service, in the best traditions of education, information and entertainment.To that end it is our pleasure, nay duty, to bring you the following article. I think you'll agree that the sentiments contained therein are of vital importance.

There's no need to thank me...

Take Your Daughter to Work Day

2010-02-25T12:22:00.001-08:00

2010-02-21T13:30:00.000-08:00

Hello there !

I've just been spending time updating my Playlist (on the left) adding some hyperlinks so that, if one was so inclined, and interested, one could follow said links and perhaps find something of interest.

We aim to please.

Trouble is, I had a bad edit and save issue, and I can't be bothered to do it again right now. Anyway, just one improvement coming up, when I can be arsed to do it again, frankly.

In the meantime, let me introduce you to Tinyfish (the worlds smallest, and probably sweetest, prog band) and their latest video-blog.

Ta ra

NHL Hockey Theme

2010-02-14T14:26:00.000-08:00

Rock And Roll

2010-02-07T14:59:00.000-08:00

I was thinking the other day about the future, and past, of Rock 'n' Roll (more specifically, Rock) and wondering whether it had finally run its course.

During the 60's and 70's, it was dismissed as a passing fad, likely to go the same way as most youth driven cults, when everyone grew up a bit. Amazing to think then, that it is still around today, 60 years after Bill Haley burst onto the scene.

Whilst I was born in 1965, at the height of the Beatle world gobbling phenomenon, I grew up in an house that actually had very little recorded music around. My Mum and Dad claim that they were far too busy bringing up two children and building up house and home to get caught up in the zeitgeist. It wasn't until I started to get interested in music that we had any records, worth speaking about that is, in the house.

My own musical journey started quite young and was spurred by, of all things, an LP by Marvin, Welch and Farrar. Those names might ring a bell, as Hank Marvin and Bruce Welch were members of the Shadows. In the late 60's/early 70's, they got together with John Farrar (an Australian I believe, once married to Olivia Newton-John) to form a more rocky version of the Shadows. Their debut album, featuring a Hignosis cover design, was a mixture of all out rock, sprinkled with some ace acoustic numbers.

Of course, I did have the music of childhood too, a Jungle Book score album, various sing-along things inc an ace Rolf Harris LP, but the mold was cast at an early stage, so it was not surprising that the first single I bought, at the age of 6 was a song called Fireball by Deep Purple. It was on the Harvest label and coupled by a B-side called Demons Eye, which is still a favourite of mine some 40 years later.

At this point, I should perhaps mention my Aunt's influence. She was a child of the 50's and 60's and so was there when it all happened. I remember going to my Grandmothers, where she lived, and seeing the album sleeve to In the Court of the Crimson King, as well as other things like the very first Vertigo label I saw spinning round on a record player

Basically, my Aunt was beyond cool, a counter-culture revolutionary, a real-life hippy. She married another hippy and lived in a collective of like minded reactionaries in a massive tumble down house. I cannot underestimate the influence she has had over me, which while not obvious to the passing observer, will be clear to all those who know me well. She laid in me the seeds of non-conformity and a life sliightly to the left of the mainstream, and if I had the guts, it is a path I would have followed rather than the one I chose.

Right, the future of Rock and Roll. So, whilst I was young, I feel steeped in the history of this thing we call Rock. I know a lot about it. I don't wish to brag, but I can give Gambacinni a run for his money. Rock music means something, and I feel its cultural resonance. But, and it's difficult to say this without straying into boring old fart territory, I fear for its survival.

Actually, I think popular music is safe, but our touchstones in Rock's history are seriously dated. At the top of this piece I said I was thinking about the future or Rock. It was actually one album I had in mind, and that was The Dark Side of The Moon. An album, made in 1973 which has already passed its 30th birthday, and will shortly be coming up for 40. I am 45 now, so it is not beyond the reams of possibility that I will get to see its 60th birthday, even 70th.

Even today, this album regularly tops, or is near the top, of polls of "The Best Album of All Time". One cannot deny its enduring legacy, and its perfectly conceived and executed narrative and musical arc. It isn't the only album of that era either. I'm just looking at Rolling Stone's Top 500. You have to get to No17 (Nevermind by Nirvana) before you get to an album that was not made in the 60's or 70's (or 50's even). Notwithstanding the fact that RS is wrong wrong wrong about Nirvana (and so many other things, in fact), most similar polls, unless run by the popular media, will have a similar look to them.

Why is this ? Why is the apogee of this cultural movement albums that appeared 30 to 40 years ago ? Punk contributed some lasting legacy, but it's all RnR (I was never ashamed and never saw any problem with holding a Sex Pistols album in one hand, and a Floyd/Genesis/ELP album in the other). Where are the works to stand beside the mighty ?

The thing is, I want there to be something as good and as enduring to be created now. Something that speak across the decades. I don't want to live in the past. It surely cannot be that it is only that small portion of children, born during the 2nd World War in most cases, who created the defining moments of the defining cultural genre of the second half of the 20th Century and all, so far, of the 21st. It makes no sense.

Unless, of course, it is inherently self-limiting. Perhaps all the good ideas have been used up, leaving us now to witness the eternal retreads and re-tellings of those past masters. In which case, Rock is dead.

Not in a any way relevant to the above, but this years big project, apart from Chickens (I have finally researched them enough), is a new band. It has been some 20 years since I last tread the boards, or at least sticky floors, of the pubs and clubs hereabouts. I still have a decent singing voice, with a decent range, so I figure, why not ? I have no equipment, but that just gives me an opportunity to delve into an area of gadgetry that has hitherto been closed to me.

So, negotiations have started with an ace drummer friend of mine. I think we have a bass player (I know he has Trace Elliot Amps and a Fender, so he must be decent), and I have dusted off my Roland EM20 and have started to try to learn "rhythm" keyboard. I consider my input to be merely filling in, vox and "musical direction", so I need a good guitarist and keyboard player to fill in the remaining spots. Naturally the music to be covered will be Progressive in nature. I am planning to try to make it a good presentation too, with computer controlled projections and lights. I think it'll be fun, and I'm looking forward to discovering what's possible in an amateur way nowadays. It'll probably mean getting an Apple Macbook too, thus opening up yet another world to me.

Frankly, on the gadget side, it's a win-win.

So if anyone can think of a good name, and/or knows anyone who might be interested on hanging out, listening and learning songs and putting together a reasonably polished performance for fun, laughs, beer and tabs, please put your recommendations on a postcard.

That is all

Blimey, it's 2010 !

2010-01-03T14:44:00.000-08:00

What-Ho, and a Happy New Year to you.

Well, I had been writing a nice piece to fully review the highlights and indeed, lowlights, of 2009 as seen through the rheumy eyes of Gable End, but upon opening the files today I see that for some reason known best to itself, MS Word decided not to save my work.

Now I know what you're thinking, that I should save my work regularly, but I swear, I did. As if to prove it, and by way of rubbing salt into the wound, the papers I was writing for work seem to have been saved perfectly. My blog ? Not a peep. Not even secreted away in the Temp file or something.

Bastard MS Word etc etc

Anyway, my muse left me last year, and She now only occasionally comes back for a fleeting visit, so I have not the will to rewrite what was, I have to say, an enthralling and interesting disposition... and, like Andrex, very, very long.

At least, not right now, as I have other things to prepare for such as going back to work tomorrow (ie 4th Jan 2010). This means deploying my almost favourite Xmas present this year, a pair (?) of rechargeable hair clippers. These are they...

Demon, aren’t they ? No more searching for the extension lead and wrapping said lead around my neck, threatening asphyxiation. They feature a 180 swivel head arrangement (and we all know how important that is), a choice of 2 cutting, errrr... things to put on top of the blades for height, and if you press that red button, you can select the corresponding Bovver Boy Hair Length (TM) from No1 to No5 and then (having switched errr... plastic things) No6 to No10.

Tidy.

Anyway, I will mostly be using them to trim my hair in 2010. For some reason this puts me in mind of the second best joke I have ever heard, the "Swedish Chemist Shop Joke". I say the second best, because the best joke I have ever hard, and the one which joke cognoscenti generally agree is the funniest and finest ever told is, of course, The Welders Goggle joke.

This joke is known to only one man and gets told roughly once every twenty years, so potent is its effect. Once heard, it will never leave you, but by some strange force of joke physics, you will not be able to remember the set-up or the substance. All you will remember is how your sides ached and how you nearly swallowed your tongue through laughing too much.

If you should be so lucky as to meet the only man on the face of the planet who can tell the joke properly, implore him to do so. It is an experience you will not forget.

Anyway, back to the second best joke...

THE SWEDISH CHEMIST SHOP JOKE

(BEST RELAYED IN A FAKE SWEDISH ACCENT)

"Good afternoon"

"Can I help you Sir ?"

"Yes, I would like some deodorant please"

"Ball or aerosol ?"

"Neither, I want it for my armpits"

Ithangu...

(To see the actual joke as performed click here NOT)

Norfolk Translations - For Non Locals

2009-12-23T06:55:00.000-08:00

Narridge yoonyun = major norfolk employer

thang kyer = spoken at high speed, used by Norfolk shop assistants when accepting money

how're yer gettin arn = norfolk greeting

hair = here

shicagooo's = nightspot on prince of wales road

bare = sold by the pint in shicagooo's

is that rioght? = comment to show attention being paid to speaker

ass a jouk = i'm just kidding

kharzi = suburb on the western out-skirts of norwich (not bowthorpe)

tross = pronounced like gross only beginning with a "T".suburb south side of norwich

windam = small town south of norwich (sensible abbreviation of it's proper name = wymundimundimundum)

card = traditionally eaten with chips

koodee = shop in st. stephens street

hum base = DIY shop (various sites)

fooze = electrical component on sale at hum base

fool = petrol or diesel

int-huh-net = worldwide web

loos-tarfed = daft east coast fishing port

stoo-ped = term applied to f**kwits

gatoo = sticky chocolate cake

foo too = get these developed at boots

sproight = fizzy lemon drink

jargon = like running, but slower

Roger Waters on Floyd and The Wall 2010

2009-12-22T13:03:00.000-08:00

What Do They Spend It All On ?

2009-12-20T10:56:00.000-08:00

For the first time, you can see...

Where does my money go

Angry of Gable End

2009-12-16T09:06:00.000-08:00

I don't like m'blog to be used as a soapbox for any trenchant views I may fleetingly hold, but I've got my ire up over a couple of things this last few days, so I just need to let off steam.

IT'S TOUGH ON THE HUSTINGS

It appears that Italian leader, Silvio Berlusconi, has been injured after some bloke threw something at him in Milan.

Now, I'm not one to condone violence, but frankly I'm surprised no one's had a go at him before. In Berlusconi we see the archetype European politician, a man whose "moral compass" is seriously out of whack and who holds in contempt the democratic process and his people.

Berlusconi, the longest serving EU leader, is a close personal friend of T Blair Esq, a consort of prostitutes and minors (according to his estranged wife, who seems to have had enough of him); a predatory male with an extensive record of criminal allegations, including mafia collusion, false accounting, tax fraud, corruption and bribery of police officers and judges,

He is currently on trial for corruption, again, (and lest we forget, his web extends into the nether regions of New Labour via Tessa Jowell and her estranged husband, David Mills) although he has a track record of making sure laws are conveniently passed DURING his trials making his misdemeanours legal. Also worthy of note Sarkozy has acted for Berlusconi; how very cosy.

Frankly he was lucky it was just a model of Milan Cathedral, and not the real thing. The lesson here is what any school child learns - if you keep taking the piss, sooner or later someone will eventually come up and whack you.
YOUTH, ACTUALLY STUDENT, UNEMPLOYMENT

Apparently this is one of the biggest issues facing the country today, notwithstanding the fact that I would have thought that the people we ought to be most worried about are family men and women, with mortgages, kids to feed, clothe and house who have been paying taxes through the nose to support New Labour's construction of its vast and spectacularly inefficient client state, now with its tentacles firmly embedded in every part of our lives, weighing down the country and plunging us towards insolvency.

In defence of the motion, the BBC this morning wheeled out a suffering student, who, having completed his Masters last summer was having trouble finding work. As the interview progressed however, it emerged that this bleeding heart had been gainfully employed after gaining his degree and had decided to give his job up to pursue his Masters. To add a slightly surreal bent to the proceedings, it emerged that his MA is in Politics and that he felt he really ought to be employed by the Public Sector, swanning his way around the world at my expense pontificating on Global Climate Change. He honestly felt that he should be in wonderful Copenhagen (thus proving in passing that climate change has little to do with science and everything to do with politics).

How does someone get this kind of sense of entitlement ? The arrogance of the chap was breathtaking. Really, you couldn’t make it up.

I was pleased to learn however, that he felt that his MA had made him a much more rounded person of intrinsic value to society (and Lord knows, more Politics Major’s are JUST the kind of thing the country needs right now),and that he had learnt a lot.

Maybe, but there’s a couple more lessons for him and anyone else moaning about the lack of opportunity:-

1). Don’t give up your job and expect the rest of us to turn round 3 years later with a leg up into a comfy public sector sinecure at my expense

2). It's tough for everyone to find work, not just students, so stop moaning and get on with it.

2). Ask yourself if your Country is best served by another one of you clogging up the arteries of State

Happy Xmas. Normal service will be resumed shortly. :-)

How to "do" Prog

2009-12-06T05:25:00.000-08:00

http://www.cracked.com/funny-2359-progressive-rock/

Tweet Cloud

2009-11-29T05:33:00.000-08:00

TVFGE Recommends

2009-11-29T05:16:00.000-08:00

It has come to the attention of Gable End, the work of the author Mark Chalesworth.

I recommend it to you.

http://www.markcharlesworth.blogspot.com/

Interim Posting

2009-11-24T12:36:00.000-08:00

Evenin' all.

You know when you put your iPod on shuffle and you come across a great song that you've never heard before ? Well the other day I was startled out of my seat by a b-side by Genesis (quiet at the back) from 1978 called The Day the Light Went Out, and it is f*****g outstanding. Why it never made the album (... and then there were three... if you're interested pop pickers) is beyond me.

I tried to find a YouTube rendering, but instead, came across an excellent home made vid of the A-Side, Many Too Many. I thought it was so good, I'd put it up on the blog.

Just to quickly also say that I've been brewing up a big Bob blog blob covering The View From Gable End as it pertains to a number of matters of national importance. Coming soon, m'hearties. Also, I've been f*****g about with my templates, but as I don't know my HTML from a sandwich, it's a bit messy hereabouts. Maybe time for a spring clean.

Anyway, that's all to come, but right now, for your aural and visual pleasure, from 1978 here's Genesis with Many to Many (if you say it in a "whispering" Bob Harris voice it's much better...)

It really is the 70's Again !

2009-11-03T13:38:00.000-08:00

Strikes, recession, Labour Government on its last legs, Country bankrupt, ELP announce tour...

It really is the '70's all over again. I wonder whether Noddy Holder will turn up on Xmas Top of the Pops. Or Roy Wood and Wizzard ? That'd be good.

Anyway... ELP

From L-R Emerson, Lake, Palmer (do you see what they did there ?)

ELP reformation...

Whaddya think ?

Laugh ?

or

Cry ?

Me I dunno. I just hope they don't make compete arses of themselves...

Oh wait, they did that with Love Beach...

Ladbrokes have a book running; 10-1 on they split up again before reforming.

Greg Lake's rider expressly states NO pies...

... anyway, my Mother in Law, etc etc

2009-11-01T13:12:00.000-08:00

Ich habe Krafwerk Der Katalog mit dem T-Shirt gekauft und die Mousepads.

L-R = Autobahn, Radioaktivität, Trans Europa Express, Die Mensch Maschine, Computer Welt, Elektrisch Cafe, Die Mischung und Tour de France.

Entschuldigung für mein Deutsch. Ich bin an deutschen shit :-).

Normaler Dienst wird in Kürze wieder aufgenommen.

Auf Wiedersehen und gute Nacht

Give Him a Good Old Slap

2009-10-27T10:54:00.000-07:00

http://www.slapnickgriffin.co.uk/

Blog of the Week

2009-10-22T12:57:00.000-07:00

nay, the Century...

http://biscuitencounters.wordpress.com/

The Poppy Fields and Graves

2009-10-20T13:28:00.000-07:00

I hope you like the new pic. Seems somewhat apt for this time of year.

And especially so given the rousing of Middle England for "our boys" in Afghanistan and elsewhere.

Actually, I think that Middle England has always had the troops in their hearts, it's just that the metropolitan media have only just noticed.

In actual fact, I don't think I can remember a wave of pride for our fighting forces quite like it since the Falklands conflict. Just another sign that the winds of change are blowing through the country.

I sometimes feel that the country has been snoozing for the past few years, and is now waking up and beginning to look around in a kind of sleepy daze and saying "What ? What the Fuck has been going on here ? Why didn't you wake me up before ?".

For me, the Poppies are a reminder of a Great Grandfather who survived the Great War, and a Paternal Grandfather who survived the horror of being a Japanese PoW, and who worked on the Burma Railway. Returning home, he was sick and emaciated and relived the horrors he had witnessed and experienced alone in the dark and in his nightmare plagued sleep.

I am told he screamed...

In this, he was not alone; and he bore his suffering, like most, in silence, never talking about his experiences. And lest we forget, the families to which they returned also paid a terrible price and had to pick up the pieces as best they could and get on with life.

My Grandfather shared my birthday, but he died when I was either 1 or 2. His Wife never forgave the Japs for what they did and was convinced until her last breath that they killed him.

Forgiveness, it it were ever granted, was pretty hard won from that generation.

My Great Grandfather, on the other hand, outlived his Son by some years, finally shuffling off this Mortal Coil in his mid-90's. My memories are somewhat hazy, although I remember the fantastic aroma of pipe tobacco and a predilection for Scotch served with a dash of water and a spoonful of sugar. During my times in Scotland, I learnt to love the Single Malt, and I now always have a light dash of (spring) water to bring it to life (but not sugar; I'll give it a try and let you know :-) ).

We are all descendants of these people and families, touched by war and horror. And in many cases, like mine, within one generation. It is part of who we (the collective nation "we") are.

And yet...

...how fast time flies. Within say 30 years, the living memory of those who served and those who lived through it will be gone. And at that point, it is up to us to ensure that their sacrifice, and the sacrifices of those who came after, are never forgotten.

So I for one am glad that we're finally waking up.

Anyway, I've got lots more to tell but that will have to wait until I get round to the next missive. But just to whet any appetites, I am planning an expose on the Great Norfolk Drought of 2009, expounding my theory on the Law of Entropy and how it pertains to Guitarists and all kinds of other stuff, of which some will be Prog Rock related.

In closing, and in line with the general theme as above, here are a couple of things to close with.

IN FLANDERS FIELDS

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
WE SHALL NOT SLEEP, THOUGH POPPIES GROW IN FLANDERS FIELDS.

And a modern take on this from the genius pen of R Waters:-

Southampton Dock

They disembarked in 45
And no-one spoke and no-one smiled
There were too many spaces in the line.
Gathered at the cenotaph
All agreed with the hand on heart
To sheath the sacrificial Knifes.

But now...
She stands upon Southampton dock
With her handkerchief
And her summer frock

Clings to her wet body in the rain.
In quiet desperation, knuckles
White upon the slippery reins
She bravely waves the boys goodbye again.

And still the dark stain spreads between
His shoulder blades.
A mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves.
And when the fight was over
We spent what they had made.
But in the bottom of our hearts
We felt The Final Cut.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Shame

2009-10-14T02:28:00.000-07:00

Hoorayyy !!

2009-10-07T09:57:00.000-07:00

Social Networking Venn

2009-10-06T08:58:00.001-07:00

Nothing about blogs...

Mexican Rock (aka The Philidelphia Experiment)

2009-09-15T15:09:00.001-07:00

Words or Music ?

2009-09-15T12:57:00.000-07:00

Man goes for a piss.

At the urinals, the man next to him starts whistling a song he wrote the lyrics for.

“Excuse me”, he says to the bloke, “I hope you don’t mind me telling you, but I wrote the words to that song”.

The other guy fixes him with a steely eye and says, “I wasn’t whistling the fucking words’.

Which do you prefer and why ? Email me now and I'll send a prize for the best entry.

hoddsr@gmail.com

2009-09-10T13:35:00.001-07:00

として、年間で行く私たち一緒にしがみつくみましょう
ああ私の愛私の愛
1泊分の静かで
当社のキャンドルは、常に燃焼しましょう
我々が学んだ教訓を失うことはありませんてみよう

My Run in with a C-List Celeb

2009-09-07T04:40:00.000-07:00

I had intended this missive to reflect upon events (sport, music, gigs, politics et al) that had caught my eye over the last couple of months.

First though, I wish to relay a story about a little run in with so called comedian and rotund fellow, Phil Jupitus, the other week on Twitter.

It is one of the defining features of the internet, and the phenomenon of social networking, that there is intolerance towards views expressed that are misaligned to the prevailing orthodoxy. You can experience this on internet forums especially. A theory might be that, as the internet and social networking are predominantly (but by no means always) populated by teens and people in their twenties, and that these groups are customarily pretty fixed, inflexible and naive in their world view (not their fault - they just haven't grown up yet) that they broke no dissension or argument from their dearly held beliefs.

This is indicative of a wider intolerance that seeps into what passes for public discourse these days. Brave is the person who tilts at the sacred cows and articles of faith that are the pillars of today's orthodoxy. For example:-

NHS Good - Private Health Bad
Bikes Good - Cars Bad
Obama Good - Bush Bad
Nurses Good - Bankers Bad

etc etc

What has all this to do with Phil Jupitus ? Well, there are a breed of media denizens (comedians, commentators) who like to think that they are somehow a breed apart from the rest of us, perched high upon their Ivory Towers and reviewing the seething mass of humanity below. These people, usually of a liberal left leaning persuasion, believe that they have some penetrating insights beyond the rest of us and almost all of them believe in the orthodoxy. After all, they want to appeal to the "yoof" market and aren't so stupid as to take them on.

Self made comedy big guy Jupitus is one of them. So...

Form high atop his perch, our Phil was spraying his invective around Twitter as normal when he regaled his followers (you can see how some of these people start to get a messiah complex, can’t you) with the following travail...

Now, as I no longer follow Mr Jupitis on Twiter, I can’t quote directly but the tweet that prodded my ire was something like:

"In business lounge waiting for flight. Worst thing about business lounges is all the business people in them. Some bloke in here shouting some toss down his mobile phone".

I'm paraphrasing, but that was the gist. A little dissection is quite revealing:

Note that our Phil is very keen to let his followers know he's in an airport Business Lounge. We know, from previous tweets that day that he was flying to New York. A business class flight to JFK is not entirely cheap. It seems that our man of the people is keen for us to know that he travels in a style and class apart from the hoi-polloi infesting Economy.

Or maybe it’s that he finds the seats more accommodating of his ample frame.

In his invective about a fellow human being, Phil feels that his contemplative mood should not be disrupted by someone actually doing his job. I'm sure that in Phil's world view to be a businessman, a "suit" and working for "The Man" is to be close to Satan. Fancy trying to make a living doing a “socially useless” activity when compared to the truth giving properties of appearing on such penetrating artistry as Never Mind the Buzzcocks, or taking Ian Dury’s place in the Blockheads ? I assume this innocent person’s job is not on Phil's approved list of worthwhile vocations (a list I assume starts with Mother Teresa, includes Nurses and Social Workers and finishes with right-on comedians) and therefore is a legitimate target for his scorn.

My, it’s a good job he’s in this world; I can feel the scales dropping from my eyes…

It was this sheer dose of unpleasantness and downright rudeness that got me especially worked up and provoked me to post the following on Facebook:-

"Bob Hodds is pissed off at C-list meedja whores who think it's funny and right-on to diss normal people and their jobs if said job is not from their list of Guardian approved vocations. Yes, Jupitus, I mean you. You fat **** !"

A bit sweary and intemperate, but I mean, what right has Big Phil, or indeed anyone, to take the piss out of anyone’s job ? Maybe having worked for a Bank (oooo !) I'm a little oversensitive, but I am sick and tired of the cognoscenti pissing down scorn and contempt on honest people who are just trying to make ends meet.

Moving on…

In Twitter land, I decided to reply to Phil and gently pointed out that maybe the guy was "… just doing his job, like you”.

Phil seemed to take umbrage at this (how dare someone call into question his righteous mutterings, after all) and proceeded to re-tweet my reply to ALL his followers, but only after he had added a sarcastic addition to it.

As a consequence, I got a load of replies from his acolytes ranging from the ridiculous to the downright insulting. Quite funny really, but it just proved to me that I’m onto something here.

As for the bit about shouting “toss” down his phone, my interpretation of this is Phil didn’t understand what was being said, and like the bully he is, decided to hide this by being offensive. A kind of sweary chaff to deflect his embarrassment.

Anyway, there you are. I seemed to have been banished, for I can no longer follow Phil.

I have been cast from the Temple and verbally stoned by his Disciples for daring to speak up. Lord knows what would have happened if I’d said something really contentious.

As it is, I no longer have to suffer the inveterate musings of this C-list celeb clogging up my Twitter timeline, and for that I am thankful

And in any case, Bill Bailey is far funnier...

This Womans Work

2009-08-09T07:23:00.001-07:00

My Life According To Rush

2009-08-05T04:57:00.001-07:00

This is one of those Facebook things...

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, answer these questions.
Pass it on to 15 people you like and include me.

Pick your Artist: Rush

Are you a male or female: Digital Man

Describe yourself: The Necromancer

How do you feel: In The Mood

Describe where you currently live: La Villa Strangiato

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Cygnus X-1

Your favourite form of transportation: Red Barchetta (couldn’t be anything else really, could it ?)

Your best friend is: Driven

You and your best friends are: The Main Monkey Business

What's the weather like: Force Ten

Favourite time of day: Dreamline

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Dog Years

What is life to you: Countdown

Your relationship: Vapor Trails

Your fear: The Enemy Within

What is the best advice you have to give: Leave That Thing Alone

Thought for the Day: Roll the Bones

How I would like to die: In the End

My soul's present condition: Limbo

Is Phil Collins the grumpiest bastard ever to have hit the skins of dead animals with pieces of wood ?

2009-07-29T07:54:00.000-07:00

Not content with punching way above his weight in the women stakes (and a singular way of dumping them, if the rumours are to be believed) he seems dead set on dissing the Genesis legacy. I alight upon this as I have just been listening to the Genesis Remasters of their albums (Trespass to The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway, Trick of the Tail to ABACAB).

One of the problems with the late seventies Genesis albums is that they used to run to well over 40 minutes. The limitations of vinyl were such that about 20 minutes a side was the most you could cram on before the sound quality suffered. Hence, those albums suffered from poor sound quality and have really benefitted from being opened up. They now sound more punchy and earthy, rather like Genesis always was in concert in those days. There are also parts that just never came through on vinyl (or even the first remastered versions) that are now revealed for the first time. In a sense, I think we are hearing these songs almost afresh and probably more as they were intended to sound but for the technical limitations of the time.

Opinions differ on the relative merits of the remastering process, with some fans preferring the older, smoother, more compressed vinyl sound to the bolder, more up front sound given to this series of remasters (which are, we are told, “definitive”). This seems to the modern way, where dynamics are sacrificed for volume, but I think on the whole, the remasters do justice to the source material. This is especially so on the Lamb, which has a depth, boldness and power that is revelatory.

I often find that great art, when seen from a distance, looks smooth and uniform but when you get up close, where you can see the brush work, the grit and sweat the artist has put into it comes through. Great art is not perfect – it is oily and rough and dirty. With these remasters, I think we’re seeing the grit, roughness and, well, bobbily bits of Genesis in a way never revealed before, especially on the surround sound mixes which are outstanding.

Now, vis-à-vis the pretence of this piece, I should admit an interest; I admit to a slight personal problem with Phil. At college I was besotted with a fellow student called Debbie Daynes. She was older than me, but was a lovely rock chick, kooky kind of girl (I’ve always been a sucker for that type). Now Debbie and I knocked about for a couple of years, but alas, my love for her went unrequited. Basically, Debbie was a bit of a tease (I’m a sucker for those types too !) and a massive Genesis fan and was particularly besotted with Phil Collins. This of course made me very jealous. What made me even more jealous is that she used to catch a bus to college and one of the bus drivers looked like Phil Collins, in his long hair and beardy phase. Because he looked like Phil Collins, Debbie went out with him. Of course, me being a spotty teenager hopelessly in love with the unattainable forgave her, and heaped all my ire onto the Phil doppelganger, and thence, to Phil himself.

As far as I’m concerned, Phil Collins is the reason I never got into Debbie’s pants.

I’m over it now.

Now I just think he’s really grumpy, and I suspect I know the reason why. In the documentaries accompanying the box sets, our Phil is talking about one of the revered, classic songs the band were working on, and then proceeds to say something to the effect of:-

“I just wish that people would remember that the guys who wrote that are the same guys who wrote ‘Land of Confusion’ or ‘Illegal Alien’” (I’m paraphrasing, but you get the drift).

To whit, Phil is trying to say that the later stuff has some kind of equivalence to the earlier stuff.

Well Phil, it doesn’t.

On the whole, the stuff done after 1980 is shit. To compare it to the slabs of genius created in the 70’s is like comparing diamond with coal; both are fundamentally made from the same stuff, but you know, it’s all in the execution.

I think underneath it all Phil knows that he used to be good; now he’s shit he hates the thought that the fans are right, and this is why he is a grumpy old sod who now claims that he never liked prog anyway and was always a soul fan.

As for the rest of them, none of them seem to be aware, or choose to ignore, the profound love and respect that their fans have for this material. It’s all very matter of fact and shrug the shoulders type stuff. If I was that talented, and had that body of work behind me, I’m not sure I’d be so sanguine. Maybe it’s the Public School façade.

Or maybe they are trying to prop up the later work as well by downplaying the significance of the earlier songs.

Anyway, there is one ace contribution from Tony Banks, where he is reflecting on that instance in the oeuvre that represents the quintessential Genesis moment. Is it the guitar solo on Firth of Fifth perhaps, or the piano on The Cinema Show ? Maybe the Apocalypse in 9/8 segment of Suppers Ready ? The climatic conclusion to The Musical Box ? Los Endos ?

No. It is none of these.

The moment is halfway through Fly On a Windshield, where Peter Gabriel’s voice slowly drifts away into the ether before the whole band come crashing in with a wallop of such force that there can be no doubt as to the sheer power they possessed.

Genesis’ ability to knock your head off is not often remarked upon, but in these remasters, it’s there for all to hear, and for the first time.

North Sea Radio Orchestra vs Fleet Foxes

Not sure this represents a heavyweight smack-down, but anyway…

The thing is, everyone seems to be going crazy about Fleet Foxes for the last year or so. I bought this album when it first came out, and found it pleasant enough. Nice harmonies and a certain West Coast charm straight out of Haight-Ashbury circa 1967. Clearly rooted in the folk traditions of America and buffed up for the 21st Century.

In repeated listening though, I found it all a bit one dimensional - nothing new here.

Now they are part of the zeitgeist if you will, and seemingly a perfect fit that has seen a summer of The Eagles, Crosby, Stills and Nash and (grumpy old) Neil Young (not to mention Bruce Springsteen, although the taxonomy is different).

They seem to be uniformly beardy too, which I must imagine in the heat of summer and on stage at Glastonbury (for example - of course, they HAD to be at Glastonbury…) must be really uncomfortable and itchy; especially for the drummer.

So the great record buying, festival going public seems to be certain that Fleet Foxes are the best thing since, oh I dunno, Seasick Steve.

In contrast, I have discovered a great band called North Sea Radio Orchestra, and I see parallels between them and Fleet Foxes. However, the roots of NSRO go way further back, embracing Olde English folk and choral traditions. There is a sense of words and music being passed through hundreds of years, not just a few decades, and yet it is as contemporary in a way that Fleet Foxes isn’t. It is a different take and angle, not just a reinvention.

So I ask the question, why would anyone bother with Fleet Foxes when our own home grown North Sea Radio Orchestra are a billion times better ?

Beats me.

What's the Problem With Dream Theater ?

Looking back a few years ago, I was bored with my music collection and was looking for something new to grab me in the way that in my earlier life had struck me like the first time I heard Queen or Rush. I got to hear of a band called Dream Theater that seemed to tick the boxes, so I bought their (then) current album, Scenes From a Memory.

Overplayed, overblown and over the top and yet with a unique sound and hookline. Plus (a real bonus this) no one I knew had ever heard of them. I moved on to earlier albums to complete my collection, by which time, Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence had arrived.

The style is what has been termed “progressive metal” and I think with some of the stuff they were doing at the time, it was totally unlike anything else. You might not have liked it all, but you couldn’t deny that here were a band trying idea after idea and striving for something different. You could safely say that the “progressive” was ascendant to the “metal”.

By 2003 however, with the Train of Thought album, the positions had been reversed. I’ll admit, I don’t like this album at all, but with a band like Dream Theater you need to keep an open mind whilst they follow their muse to wherever it takes them. If they want to do a balls out metal album, that’s just fine. As a progressive rock fan, you get used to the hit and miss of the genre and being a fan means that you take the rough with the smooth as the probability is that next time round, it’ll be something you really do like.

Now, three albums down the line from there, with the partial exception of Octavarium, we have had Systematic Chaos and very recently, Black Clouds and Silver Linings. And the trouble is, they all sound like each other. In reaching out to the wider Metal audience, DT have started to sound very formulaic, which in my book is the exact opposite of what a “progressive” band should be doing. Of course, in doing this, they have massively widened their audience and their commercial success. Which is fine, I guess, I just find that the lapse into the relative safety of metal a bit disappointing. I have therefore produced this manifesto to get Dream Theater back on track:-

Do not allow MP and JP to self-produce any longer or at least, get a decent co-producer in (Steven Wilson would be fine, or Jem Godfrey).
A bit of judicious editing and pruning wouldn't go amiss.
Clamp JP’s right hand so that he stops that ridiculous shredding. You’re a great guitar player, but you don’t need to play notes so fast that they lose all sense of what a musical note is.
Stop the Cookie Monster vocals. It’s not big and it’s not clever
You have one of the world’s greatest musicians on keyboards. FFS use him !
Write about real things rather than quasi-fantasy rubbish
Listen to ToT, Systematic Chaos and Black Clouds… and take an oath not to do the same thing next time.
No more detuned riffs
Remove 80% of MPs’ kit
Go and hang out in the country

Don't get me wrong - I haven't got a huge downer on DT - I am a fan and have been since I first picked up Scenes… and I'd much rather they were here than not but nonetheless, it seems to me they have traded melody, musical inspiration and uniqueness for a more uniform, metal approach which probably has more appeal to the "Metal Hammer" market, which is where the bucks are to be found.

At the end of the day, the proof of the pudding as we say is in the eating. I guess it must be working for them ‘cos they're in the Billboard Top 10.

I have found that if I pretend I’m 14 again, I actually quite like Black Clouds… but then I was much more easily impressed then. I also just bought Death Magnetic by Metallica and guess what – it is exactly the bloody same and virtually indistinguishable from Black Clouds…

‘Nuff said

2009-07-25T03:51:00.001-07:00

2009-07-12T07:15:00.000-07:00

Here is the News

2009-06-11T12:03:00.000-07:00

Hello to you.

After 6 weeks away from work, sorting through my personal issues, it seemed time to prepare an update. So, I think things are definitely on the up. The good news is that the therapy has really helped and I am seeing life in a much more positive light. I have also taken some action to close off some of the things causing me pain.

It's hard to convince people that I haven't just been away on holiday, enjoying myself. For the first 5 weeks, I mostly sat still rebooting my brain. I'm not very good at just "wasting" time, so this was quite odd, not really doing anything, just sitting peacefully in my garden, watching the birds, smoking my cigs and reading.

Thanks to the kind attentions of my therapist however, in the last 10 days or so, I feel myself returning to some semblance of normality. For example, this last Monday, I went and actually bought some new music (IQ and Chickenfoot if you're interested). This seemed to represent "One Little Victory" as I had listened to nothing for weeks. Anyone who knows me will know that this is highly irregular behaviour for a Rock Pig such as I !

So, I have been able to "place" my issues in some kind of context and have begun to move on, in the immortal phrase. I am avoiding certain triggers, such as work, anything to do with Edinburgh, Leeds (I avoid the weather forecasts, for example) and a variety of other seeming nonsensical and illogical, at least to the outside, items. So, no trip to see Frost and Dream Theater this weekend.

My last visit to the Doctor confirmed that my depression has improved greatly, but he didn't think I was yet fit to return to at least my current employer, given the intertwined nature of the various things ailing me, so I have been signed off for another 4 weeks. We'll have to see what happens after that, but I do feel more ready to emerge, blinking, into the sunlit uplands.

I also recommend immersing oneself in several series of Frasier, which is not only a right top laugh but also has some pithy observations on human emotions and relationships. It's rather similar to Fish (ex lead singer of Marillion) claiming that he cured himself of a bout of teenage depression by listening to Pink Floyd's, The Wall.

Only with jokes.

And laughs.

I have also much enjoyed the spectacle of our ruling classes getting found out for what everyone knew they were up to for years, the trough snuffling, swill gorging bastards. Also, much merriment at the spectacle of the Labour Party devouring itself - I know people who have waited 12 years for this moment and to see the look of joy in their faces has cheered me up no end.

What else ? Oh yes, I have enjoyed very much getting to know my 2 1/2 year old daughter a bit better, her and me being at home together. And I am looking forward to a Summer of Sport in glorious High Definition and Surround Sound here at Gable End (courtesy of Sky, Pioneer, Arcam and Kef), with the Lions Tests and the Ashes, the 20/20 World Cup providing the thrills and spills.

Until the next time then, ta ra.

Poetry Week

2009-05-21T01:02:00.000-07:00

As it's poetry week or something on the BBC, and I like poems, I thought I'd try and write one of my own, apropos of nothing, yadda yadda...

It's called Vermilion

At dusk
As the night clouds scud across the vermilion sky
I turn and face to where you live
Light my cigarette
And speak to you
I tell you of all the things you no longer let me say
And I wonder what you are doing tonight
And whether you hear my call
Echo across the miles of space

Been A Long Time, Been a Long Time...

2009-05-19T11:35:00.000-07:00

... been a long, lonely lonely lonely lonely time.

I've been having some life issues. For the sake of argument, and to protect the innocent (and guilty) let's call them A, B, C and D. In and of themselves, none of them are insurmountable. All together and all at once, they have proven nigh on impossible to deal with. As a consequence, I find myself in a once-in-a-lifetime pickle which is proving difficult to come to terms with and to unravel.

As is this the way of these things, A, B, C and D are intertwined and interconnected so that it is impossible to address one without also addressing the others, all at once and all at the same time.

Here are some words and phrases that sum up where I am at:-

Lonely, Scared, Bored, Not in Control, F.I.N.E., Angry, Sad, Can't Let Go, Not Moving On, Redundant, Jealous, Guilty, Sorry, Indignant, Trying, Yearning, Hoping, Grieving, Feeling, Raw, Sensitive, Hurt, Let Down and... Lost

About 4 weeks ago, after a day in London, I woke up and just knew that I could not face the world. Not a nervous breakdown as such, but just a culmination of the aforementioned that had conspired to render me virtually mentally non-functional. Now, as a red blooded male of the stiff-upper lip variety, admitting to this, to myself and moreover, in print (or "blog") is quite a big deal. Not very manly is it ? More, metro sexual, Guardianista leftie really. Not me at all.

However, one thing I have learned over the last year is to listen to my feelings and they were definitely telling me "seek help boy". So I did.

An emergency appointment at the Quacks hastily arranged, I proceeded to try to explain to the Doctor the way I was feeling... and promptly broke down. He was enormously sympathetic, so much so that my 5 min appointment turned into 20 mins or so. I left with a diagnosis of Depression, a note signing me off... and a prescription for a tub full of Prozac.

I resisted the Prozac for a few days, mainly put off by the unbelievable list of potential side-effects. In particular, I was amused to read that they could cause "anxiety", "sleeplessness" and "restlessness". What precisely is the fucking point of them then ?

Now, there is an awful lot of bollocks written about anti-depressants (this might be some more), but all I can say is that whatever effect they have had has been largely beneficial albeit slight (but then, I am on a small dose). It is difficult to know whether the benefits are due to the drugs or whether they derive from the natural healing process time affords. What I do know for certain, is that alcohol is far more mood altering, and whilst I would not suggest that anyone taking anti-depressants avoid alcohol (Lord knows I haven't), I might suggest that you drink in moderation. Not because the alcohol might interfere with your medication, but simply that the beneficial 2 or 3 glasses/pints that take the edge off and give you a lift is not sustained. In other words, if you're depressed, if you drink too much, you'll just get more depressed. This will happen in real time as well as leaving you literally hungover the morning after.

Another thing that is for certain is that all anti-depressants can do is give you a chemical lift - they cannot alter your thoughts and they cannot resolve the underlying problems. I can accept that it might feel that way, but I would suggest that this is more likely to be a result of time passing than of any worked resolution. To that end therefore, having gone as far as admitting to feeling like shit in front of a professional, I've decided to go the whole hog and go into therapy in an attempt to understand what has happened to me, why and why I feel like I do and, I hope, to place those things in context, to be free (or accepting) of them and to be able to move forward.

I had my first session today, which was more of an splurge rather than any work towards resolution. It was knackering, but cathartic and already suggested things to me about my motivations, actions and feelings and those of the other players involved in my drama. I suspect that I will learn things about myself and others whom I hold dear that may be uncomfortable, but from where I'm sitting it's the only way.

Thanks for listening.

2009-05-04T13:05:00.000-07:00

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sank chill on my brow
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:
Long, long shall I rue thee
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears.

Thank You

2009-05-04T07:59:00.001-07:00

Easter

2009-04-09T12:45:00.000-07:00

Ain't it grand Easter ? I love this time of year. You've got through the down of post Xmas, the nights have drawn out, and, if you stand out of the wind, the Sun has a gentle warming.

I've noticed that, during the day the wind still has an echo and bite of Winter. But, in the early evening, past about 4, it dies away completely and the Sun is still high enough for it's warmth to penetrate the clearing skies. It makes for a lovely end to the day, a cup of tea, maybe a glass of Wine, and a cigarette to wish the Sun adieu until He vanishes beyond the horizon.

Then, because of the prevailing conditions, the night is clear and crisp; maybe a frost(*) to come, but the air is so pure and clean that you just can't help but feel alive and vital as it cuts through your sinews.

Truly, a magnificent time.

Also, I love seeing the Rabbits. Driving through the countryside this time of year, the hordes gather on the grass verges, the Cricket Pitches and any other available strip of grass. Some unfortunate casualties lay by the roadside, But you get the impression that here's one species revelling in the renewal of the World, their little white tales bouncing and bounding in all directions.

Tadpoles too; look in any Pond, there will be masses of them. Some will provide food for the hungry birds, now making their nests to lay their next generation. But there are so many that their sheer weight of numbers will guarantee the survival of their line.

Finally, the Cricket season starts too. And we know then that it will only be a few short weeks until the sun is beating down, the atmosphere is stifling, and England are playing Australia for The Ashes.

Oh, and don't forget The Masters golf !!!

What a wonderful time of year :-)

Bloody marvellous

2009-04-05T12:16:00.001-07:00

Hello Blog

2009-04-02T12:35:00.000-07:00

Hello Blog, it's me again. I've been neglecting you, so allow me to make amends.

So, the world of Bert has been a bit of strange one of late. Generally, I've been acting like a complete arse, saying things I should never have said and doing things I should never have done to people that I should never have said and done it to and who didn't deserve it.

It's got me in a compete fix and tizzy, no word of a lie. Also, some weird sort of self perpetuating downward spiral seems to be operating, as if in some kind of temporal vortex where I never learn from my mistakes and am doomed to repeat them. A kind of slasher Groundhog Day if you will.

There's a saying; if you always keep doing the same things, you'll get what you've always got.

Or something. You get my drift.

So, I'm trying to put break free of my vortex, trying to fix what I can fix, if that is indeed possible, or at least let people see I'm trying. It remains to be seen whether that will even go a little way to repairing the damage I've done.

In my defence, I think the whole redundancy thing has stopped me thinking straight, gnawing away at me like an unseen cancer.

That said, some hopeful signs are emerging. This week, I went to see my outplacement consultant in Ye Olde Londone Towne. Very much looking forward to making the most of this service and the opportunities it might present. Plus, it gets me out of my surroundings, all of which have become uniformly depressing. I dread the day in the office, but also don't feel "at home" either. I can't wait for bedtime to come, just so I can get some rest from all the noises in my head. And then, when I wake up, just feel like curling into a ball and not emerging, longing for the safety of sleep.

I always do though. Get up I mean.

So, applied for a job in the Sunday Times and heard from the Agency today. They're interested, so off to London again to have a chat and then prepare for an assessment centre. So, I know I need to get my head into the right place to stand any chance of performing to my potential and capability.

There's also the Easter break coming up, which will give me an opportunity to clear some space. Always my favourite break, Easter.

Something else to look forward to is the Tinyfish/Reasoning gig at the Peel on 23 April, which I'm off to. There's a few special things lined up for that, and I'm looking forward to meeting up with some of my Frost*ie friends, for laughter, frolics and beer. Note to self - keep away from the "fighting" lager !

So, that's about it really. Looking forward to the re-emergence of the old Bert and return to a more positive state of affairs.

And to any of the people I've pissed off, I really am totally and utterly 100% sorry and I thank you for your patience and love.

That's all for now.

I Had a Dream...

2009-03-23T13:24:00.000-07:00

I am standing on a Norwich Street called the Gentlemans Walk, right in the middle. People are streaming past me to the left and right.

I am speaking to my friend. We are talking about a woman.

My friend says, "When I saw her she was really sad and said that she had no one to go to the Opera with"

I say sadly "I know…"

Then I twig that he must have seen her. "Hang on" I say "When did you see her ?"

My friend says "On Christmas Day. We had steak together".

I look at him quizzically, dreading his next line

"It's not what you think", he says.

My friend disappears and I am alone standing in the middle of the street with people streaming past me again.

From my left I see her; she looks at me dismissively and walks right past. She is wearing a long padded coat, trainers and has a rucksack on. Her hair is down her back moving in the breeze.

I try to shout to her but I can't; something is stopping me and I can't get the words out. I am rooted to the spot and I cannot move.

I watch helpless as she moves further and further away down the street.

In the distance, I see my friend again, who then turns into an avatar of me, also standing in the middle of the street in the distance but directly opposite me. He is quite far away, so I am unsure who it is. It could be me, my friend or someone else.

She goes to him and they hug and kiss and smile at each other and talk to each other in the way that lovers do, eye to eye, the two of them the centre of each other and the Universe.

She buries her head in his chest. She looks safe

They turn their heads round and look at me but say nothing. Their faces are expressionless. No flicker of emotion or recognition just a blank stare fixed on me.

They walk off into the distance

I remain alone in the street.

Ain't It Sad

2009-03-17T16:12:00.000-07:00

2009-03-09T13:59:00.000-07:00

Few are the bands who get to inspire an iconic tabloid headline in their lifetime. The morning after their Today programme appearance in 1976, the Sex Pistols managed to do it when the Daily Mirror shrieked “The filth and the fury!” Three decades on, with the release of 'It is too difficult to be worth the effort', Neozoic also managed it. Trumpeting “Ban this apathetic inspiration”, The Mail on Sunday went all out to stop neozoic in their tracks. Instead, this tabloid vilification had the unexpected effect of allowing the rave outfit to make their mark on the social fabric of this country.

Neozoic have gone all out to be decisively apathetic with their latest offering. At first sight the band certainly seem to be apathetic about their album sales, there are just 5 tracks, one of which is 4 minutes and 35 seconds of silence.

However once you have listened to 'Beats on Toast' the second track on the album you will be convinced to remain very much on your sofa. The stark sparadic beats are only offset by by the samples from the 80s tv show Button Moon.

'C Sharp B Blunt' is the track the papers want you to hate. Encouraging their fans to simply not care about anything, except that is, to be 100% positive that you do not care.

On reading the album insert the mystery of the 4 minutes and 35 seconds of silence 'Accoutic Angles' becomes clear. The silence was recorded at 5:30 am in a warehouse which justs twenty minutes earlier had been echoing at 100db with Neozoics less mainstream tunes. The silence was the result of a police raid, Neozoics response then is to do what they do best - nothing, 4:35 seconds of nothing to be precise. This apathetic protest should be an inspiration to us all.

Neozoic, It is too difficulkt to be worth the effort - availble for download 09/03, out in the shops 17/03.