Valletta, Malta.
Monday, 31 May 2010
Eurovision.
Did you watch Eurovision this year? No? Just me then? I am not ashamed to say I rather enjoy Eurovision; it is so wonderfully camp and kitsch that I find it hard to resist and this year was no exception. Predictably our nation came last but that is no surprise considering our entry was woefully boring and outdated by around forty years. Well done the great British public.
Anyway my sugar-coated kitsch highlights were as follows:
Malta - Thea Garrett - My Dream.
I warm towards the Maltese entry as I saw this song qualify whilst in Malta on holiday in February. Sat in our hotel room with a heady choice of 5 channels, it was either that or the Maltese version of Deal Or No Deal which they somehow managed to make last about 4 hours (nothing happened in the whole time we were watching it...) it's enough to drive a man to Cisk!
Greece - Giorgos Alkaios & Friends - OPA!
The song that made the whole of Europe shout OPA! at any given opportunity. Hey!
Anyway my sugar-coated kitsch highlights were as follows:
Malta - Thea Garrett - My Dream.
I warm towards the Maltese entry as I saw this song qualify whilst in Malta on holiday in February. Sat in our hotel room with a heady choice of 5 channels, it was either that or the Maltese version of Deal Or No Deal which they somehow managed to make last about 4 hours (nothing happened in the whole time we were watching it...) it's enough to drive a man to Cisk!
Greece - Giorgos Alkaios & Friends - OPA!
The song that made the whole of Europe shout OPA! at any given opportunity. Hey!
Estonia - Malcolm Lincoln & Manpower 4 - Siren.
This was a bizarre entry as Estonian Malcolm based his act on the styling and dance moves of Jarvis Cocker, sort of a bit lacking but endearing never the less.
This was a bizarre entry as Estonian Malcolm based his act on the styling and dance moves of Jarvis Cocker, sort of a bit lacking but endearing never the less.
Romania - Paula Seling & Ovi - Playing With Fire.
My personal favourite with something for everyone; Pioneering piano design, excessive pointing, operatic bursts, ill costume choices but all in all infectious and catchy. My vote went to Paula and Ovi and they came third overall.
Tuesday, 18 May 2010
Walk Like A Venetian.
A couple of days ago I booked a holiday to Venice (in September) for myself and Grundy and to say I'm excited is putting it mildly. Venice is a city which I have always wished to visit and it may sound a bit fantastical but I can't quite believe I am doing just that.
For someone who can't swim (I know, and I grew up in Newquay, shameful) it might seem like an odd choice but when you are confronted with the rich luscious imagery of films such as Death In Venice you can easily see the reason why. I am currently watching the BBC series 'Venice' on DVD to get me in the mood; the series is presented by famed Venetian Francesco Da Mosto whom I met a couple of years ago, his passion for his home city is endearing and he presents the city to you in a way that proves hard to resist. We are staying in the heart of the city near Piazza San Marco and I we plan to partake of all the required and cliched tourist activities.
In other news I had an MRI scan today, a strange experience and not one I can tell you much about as I fell asleep whilst listening to Heart FM (you didn't get a choice.) Entering the claustrophobic clinically white tunnel listening to Wham! is of course a high light.
For someone who can't swim (I know, and I grew up in Newquay, shameful) it might seem like an odd choice but when you are confronted with the rich luscious imagery of films such as Death In Venice you can easily see the reason why. I am currently watching the BBC series 'Venice' on DVD to get me in the mood; the series is presented by famed Venetian Francesco Da Mosto whom I met a couple of years ago, his passion for his home city is endearing and he presents the city to you in a way that proves hard to resist. We are staying in the heart of the city near Piazza San Marco and I we plan to partake of all the required and cliched tourist activities.
In other news I had an MRI scan today, a strange experience and not one I can tell you much about as I fell asleep whilst listening to Heart FM (you didn't get a choice.) Entering the claustrophobic clinically white tunnel listening to Wham! is of course a high light.
Sunday, 2 May 2010
Chirpy Burpy Cheap Sheep
I am having a melancholic morning. I got out of bed this morning and as has become painfully predictable I have another day off with atrocious weather. It's beyond the joke. I need cheering up so I went to Amazon (always dangerous) and thought I would have a little look around the comedy DVD section. I have just purchased the definitive collection of Father Ted. Hurray!
Father Ted is one of those rare comedy series that were and still remain consistently funny no-matter how many times you watch and the theme tune alone is like a massive sonic hug. I defy anyone not to smile when confronted with that opening, the sweeping helicopter shot across Craggy Island and that signature music created by The Divine Comedy. Would it be Christmas if you didn't see the fathers get trapped in the biggest lingerie section in Ireland as an example? Would the world be the same without Father Noel Furlong river-dancing in a claustrophobic over populated dilapidated caravan screeching at the top of his voice? Mrs Doyle and her cocaine cakes? The cows that are actually very far away or the shock of an impostor sheep? I think not.
I for one am very much looking forward to seeing all three series from the start all over again. My Granddad is Irish, raised by nuns in wartime Dublin and apparently Father Ted is a lot closer to the truth than we think. Makes you want to be Irish and fifty years older doesn't it? As a special treat to us all, ladies, gentlemen, other, please enjoy the following:
Father Ted is one of those rare comedy series that were and still remain consistently funny no-matter how many times you watch and the theme tune alone is like a massive sonic hug. I defy anyone not to smile when confronted with that opening, the sweeping helicopter shot across Craggy Island and that signature music created by The Divine Comedy. Would it be Christmas if you didn't see the fathers get trapped in the biggest lingerie section in Ireland as an example? Would the world be the same without Father Noel Furlong river-dancing in a claustrophobic over populated dilapidated caravan screeching at the top of his voice? Mrs Doyle and her cocaine cakes? The cows that are actually very far away or the shock of an impostor sheep? I think not.
I for one am very much looking forward to seeing all three series from the start all over again. My Granddad is Irish, raised by nuns in wartime Dublin and apparently Father Ted is a lot closer to the truth than we think. Makes you want to be Irish and fifty years older doesn't it? As a special treat to us all, ladies, gentlemen, other, please enjoy the following:
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Another Dahl.
This month seems to be dominated by all things Dahl.
From Sophie to Roald and back again.
On Sunday me and Grundy took a trip to Great Missenden in Buckinghamshire the former home of Roald Dahl and present home to The Roald Dahl Museum & Story Centre. Grundy has been slightly obsessed with Roald Dahl of late and looking back at my own childhood Dahl has without a doubt played a big part as he has done to so many children for generations. I can remember sitting in bed, probably around the age of seven thumbing through a tattered copy of Georges Marvelous Medicine, the cover art work I recall vividly, a great swirl of turquoise blue wafting up from a cauldron stirred by George and framed in crimson. It was also the first book I can remember reading alone and in one sitting, pretty unremarkable now of course but looking back a triumph in a life of reading.
Great Missenden was a small yet interesting place to look around, this tiny unassuming village is the birthplace of some of the most internationally read and well recognised children's books of all time. The BFG, Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, Matilda all written in a small shed in a back garden, the village library is where Matilda fell in love with books and knowledge, the red-pump garage as described in Danny & The Champions Of The World and what is now a house was the orphanage as described in The BFG and the great man himself buried in the local church yard at the top of the hill.
It seemed that we were the only Dahl tourists there that day but it was a Sunday and we got up early to make the journey, we started with a cup of tea in the Twits Café where the walls were dotted with framed original pages from Dahl's first notebooks on Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, pages so influential and so accessible nestled alongside pots of sickly candy canes and jars of gobstoppers all good signs.
When we went into the museum itself we were issued with a pamphlet each and told to walk down the corridor as we did so the smell of churned chocolate stroked our nasal passages with Dahl's voice reading pages from well loved memoir 'Boy' exciting the ears. The first room showed images and artifacts from the authors childhood, his school satchel and uniform alongside the little taxidermy mouse used in 'The Great Mouse Plot of 1924.' Passing slabs of Wonka branded chocolate the museum continues with videos of the author at home, a deconstruction of his writing process and you can even sit in the very chair that every Roald Dahl story was written, and of course we did, it'd be rude to pass on such an opportunity.
Although the museum is geared more towards a young audience it is still a fascinating way to spend an hour or so and for the film buffs there are costumes and props from Tim Burton's version of Charlie & The Chocolate Factory including Johnny Depp's Wonka outfit and the re-vamped versions of the Oompa Loompa and also the sets used in Fantastic Mr. Fox.
For any fan of Roald Dahl the shop is a must and there are quite positively hundreds of items all Dahl related from books to prints, pencil cases, DVDs, mugs and more. After the museum you can go on a self guided village trail that takes you to various places of interest culminating in a visit to Dahl's grave where fans have left presents and tributes including a bottle of marvelous medicine and a Wonka bar. Dahl's house is not on the trail as it is still owned by the Dahl family but as we had made a special journey we felt the need to find it and after a short walk and the help of phone based navigational technology we found the famed Gipsy House and from the public pathway that passes at the side of the garden and a quick glimpse through the hedge there, with a bright yellow door was the writing hut, Dahl's much celebrated literary retreat. We were just hoping that the Dahl family didn't see us and call the authorities. I am pleased to report they didn't.
Now that Grundy owns all of the books (more or less) I feel I myself should re-read them, probably starting with Esio Trot, a tortoise based childhood favourite for sure.
From Sophie to Roald and back again.
On Sunday me and Grundy took a trip to Great Missenden in Buckinghamshire the former home of Roald Dahl and present home to The Roald Dahl Museum & Story Centre. Grundy has been slightly obsessed with Roald Dahl of late and looking back at my own childhood Dahl has without a doubt played a big part as he has done to so many children for generations. I can remember sitting in bed, probably around the age of seven thumbing through a tattered copy of Georges Marvelous Medicine, the cover art work I recall vividly, a great swirl of turquoise blue wafting up from a cauldron stirred by George and framed in crimson. It was also the first book I can remember reading alone and in one sitting, pretty unremarkable now of course but looking back a triumph in a life of reading.
Great Missenden was a small yet interesting place to look around, this tiny unassuming village is the birthplace of some of the most internationally read and well recognised children's books of all time. The BFG, Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, Matilda all written in a small shed in a back garden, the village library is where Matilda fell in love with books and knowledge, the red-pump garage as described in Danny & The Champions Of The World and what is now a house was the orphanage as described in The BFG and the great man himself buried in the local church yard at the top of the hill.
It seemed that we were the only Dahl tourists there that day but it was a Sunday and we got up early to make the journey, we started with a cup of tea in the Twits Café where the walls were dotted with framed original pages from Dahl's first notebooks on Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, pages so influential and so accessible nestled alongside pots of sickly candy canes and jars of gobstoppers all good signs.
When we went into the museum itself we were issued with a pamphlet each and told to walk down the corridor as we did so the smell of churned chocolate stroked our nasal passages with Dahl's voice reading pages from well loved memoir 'Boy' exciting the ears. The first room showed images and artifacts from the authors childhood, his school satchel and uniform alongside the little taxidermy mouse used in 'The Great Mouse Plot of 1924.' Passing slabs of Wonka branded chocolate the museum continues with videos of the author at home, a deconstruction of his writing process and you can even sit in the very chair that every Roald Dahl story was written, and of course we did, it'd be rude to pass on such an opportunity.
Although the museum is geared more towards a young audience it is still a fascinating way to spend an hour or so and for the film buffs there are costumes and props from Tim Burton's version of Charlie & The Chocolate Factory including Johnny Depp's Wonka outfit and the re-vamped versions of the Oompa Loompa and also the sets used in Fantastic Mr. Fox.
For any fan of Roald Dahl the shop is a must and there are quite positively hundreds of items all Dahl related from books to prints, pencil cases, DVDs, mugs and more. After the museum you can go on a self guided village trail that takes you to various places of interest culminating in a visit to Dahl's grave where fans have left presents and tributes including a bottle of marvelous medicine and a Wonka bar. Dahl's house is not on the trail as it is still owned by the Dahl family but as we had made a special journey we felt the need to find it and after a short walk and the help of phone based navigational technology we found the famed Gipsy House and from the public pathway that passes at the side of the garden and a quick glimpse through the hedge there, with a bright yellow door was the writing hut, Dahl's much celebrated literary retreat. We were just hoping that the Dahl family didn't see us and call the authorities. I am pleased to report they didn't.
Now that Grundy owns all of the books (more or less) I feel I myself should re-read them, probably starting with Esio Trot, a tortoise based childhood favourite for sure.
"There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination.
Living there, you'll be free if you truly wish to be. " - Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka.
Living there, you'll be free if you truly wish to be. " - Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka.
Monday, 19 April 2010
Food.
Once again it has been a while since my fingers have run across these keys. I have recently signed up to an iPhone contract so I've been doing all that is required (as far as emails, Facebook etc) on that; my poor little trusty MacBook has been sobbing, sheathed in an apparently protective layer of purple neoprene in the corner.
Spring is here, probably my favourite time of year: dogs running about in parks, daffodils waking by the towpath, the sun with it's cheery optimistic shine and lashings of clinky drinks, gin and tonics and the like. I have been watching Sophie Dahl's new cookery program, a series that seems so wonderfully and quintessentially British is makes the heart sigh. I must admit when I first heard Miss Dahl was to delve into such a kitchen table culinary foray I watched with an air of caution, Miss Dahl does not eat meat and I rarely trust those that don't especially if it's for any other reason than heeding medical advice.
It almost goes hand in hand with the warnings of butchery scenes before the food television of today. I am of the opinion that if you are to eat meat (or I 'spose it could apply to any food stuffs more or less) you should know of it's origins and where it has come from, if possible.
If you are to eat meat, butchery is after all a reality and I have no problem with seeing meat hanging in the market or things still holding onto their heads post mortality. One of my favourite things to cook is rabbit stew and I have before now decapitated, gutted and skinned a few rabbits from scratch. I am much happier to eat this knowing I prepared it myself; it's not a blood thirsty desire to butcher it is more a chance to exercise my morals when it comes to the consumption of meat per se. These skills of basic food preparation have been lost to shiny artificial produce vac-packed in supermarket chillers ready and waiting for us. I'd be telling porkie pies if I was to say I don't shop in Supermarkets, these days I seem to always shop in supermarkets for the great majority of the time but it is worth remembering the joys of cooking as opposed to just re-heating even if it is as basic as a baked potato. Sometimes the most basic of dishes are the best and most comforting. Cooking is a skill that should be practiced by all.
What Sophie Dahl does is take the most basic recipes but gives them a twist and although Dahl chooses not to eat meat (her prerogative) her meat recipes are re-told with the same charming zeal and passion as the rest. Every dish in her book and series has a back-story and echoes the works of adored food writers Elizabeth David or Jane Grigson; each recipe is evocative of a time in a life, a memory or an emotion. We all eat so therefore we all have food memories, food is a wonderful and much under-estimated emotional trigger.
I am slightly odd in that I really enjoy reading food writing and like nothing more than sitting down with a strong cup of tea, a couple digestive biscuits (to dunk of course) and a heavy lusciously produced cookery book on my lap. I don't have to be consuming the food to find joy in it.
As I glance over at our bookshelf it strains under the pressure of row after row of culinary tome: an ancient copy of Mrs Beeton nestling alongside Nigella, Rick, Jamie, Gordon, Marco and Hugh, Clarissa and Floyd, I have eclectic tastes if nothing else but each has their reason and each one has recipes I have and will return to again and again. A Foodie? I'm not sure, but one thing I do know is I enjoy eating and a treat every now and again is without a doubt a necessity.
Produce does not always have to be lovingly made single handed by a farmers wife and placed into kilner jars with accompanying doilies for it to be good. Ben & Jerry's, Marmite, Cheerios even Mr Kipling etc are all good and very much evocative of different periods in my life. One thing I will say is that you'll never beat a cake made by the W.I. and I wouldn't wish to try either. Who wants a pancake on pancake day without artificial Jif lemon? Not I! Sometimes tradition must hold the upper-hand; the W.I. Victoria Sponge, produced to perfection deserves to sit upon the same pedal-stool as Cadbury's Fruit & Nut or Bassetts Licorice All-Sorts, not the best ingredients, not the healthiest but certainly the most loved. Dahl, among others (I'm thinking of the self-styled domestic goddess that is Nigella Lawson) take the pretensions out of cookery and give us the license to reminisce through gluttony guilt free and surely that is what food is about? Enjoyment? Eat what you wish to eat but be brave from time to time and try new things.
For me knowing your food's origins and how it comes to be upon your plate (the art of butchery as one example) enhances your appreciation for what you are eating. It's perfectly fine to fill up on Cadbury's and chow-down on Golden Grahams but from time to time please support our local artisan producers for whom their produce is not only a passion but a way of life and it'd be a travesty to let them go unnoticed and dissolve into history.
Spring is here, probably my favourite time of year: dogs running about in parks, daffodils waking by the towpath, the sun with it's cheery optimistic shine and lashings of clinky drinks, gin and tonics and the like. I have been watching Sophie Dahl's new cookery program, a series that seems so wonderfully and quintessentially British is makes the heart sigh. I must admit when I first heard Miss Dahl was to delve into such a kitchen table culinary foray I watched with an air of caution, Miss Dahl does not eat meat and I rarely trust those that don't especially if it's for any other reason than heeding medical advice.
It almost goes hand in hand with the warnings of butchery scenes before the food television of today. I am of the opinion that if you are to eat meat (or I 'spose it could apply to any food stuffs more or less) you should know of it's origins and where it has come from, if possible.
If you are to eat meat, butchery is after all a reality and I have no problem with seeing meat hanging in the market or things still holding onto their heads post mortality. One of my favourite things to cook is rabbit stew and I have before now decapitated, gutted and skinned a few rabbits from scratch. I am much happier to eat this knowing I prepared it myself; it's not a blood thirsty desire to butcher it is more a chance to exercise my morals when it comes to the consumption of meat per se. These skills of basic food preparation have been lost to shiny artificial produce vac-packed in supermarket chillers ready and waiting for us. I'd be telling porkie pies if I was to say I don't shop in Supermarkets, these days I seem to always shop in supermarkets for the great majority of the time but it is worth remembering the joys of cooking as opposed to just re-heating even if it is as basic as a baked potato. Sometimes the most basic of dishes are the best and most comforting. Cooking is a skill that should be practiced by all.
What Sophie Dahl does is take the most basic recipes but gives them a twist and although Dahl chooses not to eat meat (her prerogative) her meat recipes are re-told with the same charming zeal and passion as the rest. Every dish in her book and series has a back-story and echoes the works of adored food writers Elizabeth David or Jane Grigson; each recipe is evocative of a time in a life, a memory or an emotion. We all eat so therefore we all have food memories, food is a wonderful and much under-estimated emotional trigger.
I am slightly odd in that I really enjoy reading food writing and like nothing more than sitting down with a strong cup of tea, a couple digestive biscuits (to dunk of course) and a heavy lusciously produced cookery book on my lap. I don't have to be consuming the food to find joy in it.
As I glance over at our bookshelf it strains under the pressure of row after row of culinary tome: an ancient copy of Mrs Beeton nestling alongside Nigella, Rick, Jamie, Gordon, Marco and Hugh, Clarissa and Floyd, I have eclectic tastes if nothing else but each has their reason and each one has recipes I have and will return to again and again. A Foodie? I'm not sure, but one thing I do know is I enjoy eating and a treat every now and again is without a doubt a necessity.
Produce does not always have to be lovingly made single handed by a farmers wife and placed into kilner jars with accompanying doilies for it to be good. Ben & Jerry's, Marmite, Cheerios even Mr Kipling etc are all good and very much evocative of different periods in my life. One thing I will say is that you'll never beat a cake made by the W.I. and I wouldn't wish to try either. Who wants a pancake on pancake day without artificial Jif lemon? Not I! Sometimes tradition must hold the upper-hand; the W.I. Victoria Sponge, produced to perfection deserves to sit upon the same pedal-stool as Cadbury's Fruit & Nut or Bassetts Licorice All-Sorts, not the best ingredients, not the healthiest but certainly the most loved. Dahl, among others (I'm thinking of the self-styled domestic goddess that is Nigella Lawson) take the pretensions out of cookery and give us the license to reminisce through gluttony guilt free and surely that is what food is about? Enjoyment? Eat what you wish to eat but be brave from time to time and try new things.
For me knowing your food's origins and how it comes to be upon your plate (the art of butchery as one example) enhances your appreciation for what you are eating. It's perfectly fine to fill up on Cadbury's and chow-down on Golden Grahams but from time to time please support our local artisan producers for whom their produce is not only a passion but a way of life and it'd be a travesty to let them go unnoticed and dissolve into history.
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Thursday, 18 March 2010
The Mad March Hare.
It has been a little while since I have written a proper up-date. I am now employed in Oxford so that is taking up most of my time. Like all graduates my current job is absolutely nothing to do with my degree; I am the supervisor of a bakery selling all things Cornish. Early starts, long hours, the constant risk of being burnt - but it's money after all and the rent needs to be paid.
Myself, Grundy and his mum went to see the new Tim Burton film 'Alice in Wonderland' at the new Cineworld in Witney on Sunday. The film was a lot better than I was expecting and as an added bonus was in 3D. Whilst everybody else gained much hilarity from wearing their glasses I did not; they were after all the same as my normal glasses and couldn't quite work out what the fuss was about. Although I am growing a little tired of the predictability of the Burton, Depp, Bonham-Carter triangle there is know denying that they are producing good results although yet again they seem to stroll too far from the pages of the book, a massive pinch of artistic license maybe? I still prefer the original 'Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory' of 1971 as an example; some things are definitely better left alone.
March also sees much stand-up comedy afoot, we are going to 'Childish Things' this Saturday evening which is all in aid of the childrens' hospice charity Helen & Douglas House. It is an evening of comedy which this year features the likes of Rob Brydon, Jason Manford, Graham Norton and Rory Bremner as some of the artists announced so far. It should be a really good night and get us in the mood for seeing Ricky Gervais on his 'Science' tour this coming Wednesday. The last stand-up comedy I saw live was Dylan Moran back in Cornwall but that was a good few years ago now so I am long overdue.
Other things happening at present: Myself and Grundy got a LoveFilm account as we decided we do not watch enough films, the new(ish) Michael Haneke film 'White Ribbon' came clattering through the letter box a couple of days ago and we plan to watch that as soon as we are able to stay awake for long enough. No late fees, amen!
I also have a stack of books to read but haven't yet had the time; I am currently reading William S. Burroughs 'Cities Of The Red Night' which is predictably full of drugs, ritual killings and strange occurrences involving disease and death, not exactly a holiday read but that didn't stop me taking it to Malta. I have also just started the journals of Keith Haring. Also, completely unrelated but I currently smell like 'Versace Pour Homme' a frangrance that reminds me of being warm, wearing shorts, splashing around in the Mediterranean Sea and eating amazing food.
For now, that is all as I need to dash up town to get the new Wire which this month has a free CD, wonderful.
Myself, Grundy and his mum went to see the new Tim Burton film 'Alice in Wonderland' at the new Cineworld in Witney on Sunday. The film was a lot better than I was expecting and as an added bonus was in 3D. Whilst everybody else gained much hilarity from wearing their glasses I did not; they were after all the same as my normal glasses and couldn't quite work out what the fuss was about. Although I am growing a little tired of the predictability of the Burton, Depp, Bonham-Carter triangle there is know denying that they are producing good results although yet again they seem to stroll too far from the pages of the book, a massive pinch of artistic license maybe? I still prefer the original 'Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory' of 1971 as an example; some things are definitely better left alone.
March also sees much stand-up comedy afoot, we are going to 'Childish Things' this Saturday evening which is all in aid of the childrens' hospice charity Helen & Douglas House. It is an evening of comedy which this year features the likes of Rob Brydon, Jason Manford, Graham Norton and Rory Bremner as some of the artists announced so far. It should be a really good night and get us in the mood for seeing Ricky Gervais on his 'Science' tour this coming Wednesday. The last stand-up comedy I saw live was Dylan Moran back in Cornwall but that was a good few years ago now so I am long overdue.
Other things happening at present: Myself and Grundy got a LoveFilm account as we decided we do not watch enough films, the new(ish) Michael Haneke film 'White Ribbon' came clattering through the letter box a couple of days ago and we plan to watch that as soon as we are able to stay awake for long enough. No late fees, amen!
I also have a stack of books to read but haven't yet had the time; I am currently reading William S. Burroughs 'Cities Of The Red Night' which is predictably full of drugs, ritual killings and strange occurrences involving disease and death, not exactly a holiday read but that didn't stop me taking it to Malta. I have also just started the journals of Keith Haring. Also, completely unrelated but I currently smell like 'Versace Pour Homme' a frangrance that reminds me of being warm, wearing shorts, splashing around in the Mediterranean Sea and eating amazing food.
For now, that is all as I need to dash up town to get the new Wire which this month has a free CD, wonderful.
Thursday, 11 March 2010
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Saturday, 20 February 2010
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
Industrial Introduction.
Throbbing Gristle (Clip from BBC documentary 'Synth Britannia')
Throbbing Gristle interviewed by BoingBoing Video.
Diana (Mini)
As I excitedly remind myself every morning Grundy and I are Malta bound late on Sunday. I couldn't be happier to get away from the drizzle and cold, five days in the Mediterranean is exactly what the doctor ordered, no, really he did but that's a long and boring story of visits to Bartlemas Surgery, blood tests and pain killers.
I have bought a new camera and I am looking forward to taking many-a-sun-drenched snap with it. It's a Diana Mini (made by The Lomographic Society.) I have it's older bigger brother already (Diana+) but due to it having to use medium format film (120) it proves tricky, unpredictable and expensive to use and process. The Diana Mini however takes standard 35mm film and thanks to a rectangular plastic insert can split each frame in half making a 36 exposure film capable of taking 72 images, bargain!
The Lomo' Society in-case you are unfamiliar have taken old cameras and have made replicas for a more contemporaneous audience. The Diana family is just one example of many reproductions and originally started off as a toy-camera given away at fair grounds or free with newspaper promotions in the 1950s/60s. As it was made very cheaply the camera suffers from light-leakage making the resulting images have a dream-like quality with dark edges and that has become a virtue and the image quality is now much sort-after. Although originally a "toy" it is a fully functioning camera but to use a Diana is to delve into a world of uncertainty; how you think an image will turn out and how it actually does are two different matters completely.
So, stay posted to this blog and my Flickr account to see the results when they are back from Snappy Snaps. The images below are of the camera and an example of a photograph taken on it (not by myself but from the Lomography website.)
I have bought a new camera and I am looking forward to taking many-a-sun-drenched snap with it. It's a Diana Mini (made by The Lomographic Society.) I have it's older bigger brother already (Diana+) but due to it having to use medium format film (120) it proves tricky, unpredictable and expensive to use and process. The Diana Mini however takes standard 35mm film and thanks to a rectangular plastic insert can split each frame in half making a 36 exposure film capable of taking 72 images, bargain!
The Lomo' Society in-case you are unfamiliar have taken old cameras and have made replicas for a more contemporaneous audience. The Diana family is just one example of many reproductions and originally started off as a toy-camera given away at fair grounds or free with newspaper promotions in the 1950s/60s. As it was made very cheaply the camera suffers from light-leakage making the resulting images have a dream-like quality with dark edges and that has become a virtue and the image quality is now much sort-after. Although originally a "toy" it is a fully functioning camera but to use a Diana is to delve into a world of uncertainty; how you think an image will turn out and how it actually does are two different matters completely.
So, stay posted to this blog and my Flickr account to see the results when they are back from Snappy Snaps. The images below are of the camera and an example of a photograph taken on it (not by myself but from the Lomography website.)
Friday, 12 February 2010
Egoshooter.
As you may have guessed by now I feel a certain affinity for the Germans. Most of the films I own are from the said country and I am always searching for something new to watch to add to my ever growing collection. I purchased 'Egoshooter' from German Amazon about a month ago but we hadn't got around to watching it until last night.
Starring rising star Tom Schilling 'Egoshooter' is one of the more individual films I have seen in recent times. Taking into concern the contemporary upsurge in amateur video sites such as YouTube together with the social networking websites that have made everybody famous for 15 minutes the film splices together small, apparently amateurishly shot snippets of narrative to assess current social concerns.
Jakob is 19, living in Cologne and wasting his life; he documents every tedious aspect of that wasted life on video-camera. Everything: from not being able to sleep, riding a bike, begging, masturbating, eating breakfast, listening to music, together with his dysfunctional family and friends.
In a society that will watch Big Brother contestants sleeping on a live stream or readily view homemade videos of people doing almost anything at anytime, anywhere 'Egoshooter' is cleverly apt to our times and is of course on the surface a mediocre film of nothingness, but that's the point. We are all bored and as this very blog confirms we strive to document the tedious minutiae of life.
The film is alarmingly easy to watch yet at the same time a slightly uncomfortable experience, after all we are watching Jakob in the most intimate and emotionally private moments but the internet has made such occurrences normality. The film apes us all and is well worth watching if only to look into the mirror that is being held-up to society. This experimental blend of fragmentary documentation is refreshingly honest but you must surrender yourself as viewer to get the most out of it, if you come expecting a storyline, you are missing the point.
If you have a spare 79 minutes and an extra twenty quid burning a hole in your pocket why don't you try Egoshooter? Perfect viewing for late at night or early in the morning when suffering a hangover thus not really wanting to think.
Starring rising star Tom Schilling 'Egoshooter' is one of the more individual films I have seen in recent times. Taking into concern the contemporary upsurge in amateur video sites such as YouTube together with the social networking websites that have made everybody famous for 15 minutes the film splices together small, apparently amateurishly shot snippets of narrative to assess current social concerns.
Jakob is 19, living in Cologne and wasting his life; he documents every tedious aspect of that wasted life on video-camera. Everything: from not being able to sleep, riding a bike, begging, masturbating, eating breakfast, listening to music, together with his dysfunctional family and friends.
In a society that will watch Big Brother contestants sleeping on a live stream or readily view homemade videos of people doing almost anything at anytime, anywhere 'Egoshooter' is cleverly apt to our times and is of course on the surface a mediocre film of nothingness, but that's the point. We are all bored and as this very blog confirms we strive to document the tedious minutiae of life.
The film is alarmingly easy to watch yet at the same time a slightly uncomfortable experience, after all we are watching Jakob in the most intimate and emotionally private moments but the internet has made such occurrences normality. The film apes us all and is well worth watching if only to look into the mirror that is being held-up to society. This experimental blend of fragmentary documentation is refreshingly honest but you must surrender yourself as viewer to get the most out of it, if you come expecting a storyline, you are missing the point.
If you have a spare 79 minutes and an extra twenty quid burning a hole in your pocket why don't you try Egoshooter? Perfect viewing for late at night or early in the morning when suffering a hangover thus not really wanting to think.
Sunday, 7 February 2010
No Age.
...ladies and gentlemen; a band I have seen live more times than I care to remember, all the way from L.A in the U.S of A, and I even have the t-shirt, please be standing for NO AGE:
Saturday, 6 February 2010
Monday, 1 February 2010
Attack Music.
It was 2005, I was young and naïve. In that summer I was attending sixth-form and I was about to embark on a work placement at Artrocker magazine then based in Highbury, London. I was passionate about two things, writing and music (although I must confess that I was reasonably new to the 'music scene' attending my first festival a year earlier.) After having a few articles published here and there the demo's and promo's came clattering through my letterbox regularly. On one such occasion came a CD mysteriously titled 'Zum Kult Film EP' alongside the band name scrawled in green marker pen. These New Puritans? Sounds intriguing. In my dank, perpetually cold Cornish bedroom I listened to the demo and what I heard was akin to the downtrodden austere isolation I felt I lived with; a bachelors degree and a portion of a masters later you realise you've probably never had it so good, student life is good for boosting the immune system if nothing else.
On a struggling laptop I used what little music knowledge I had and wrote a review, published in Artrocker, my first full page feature and apparently the bands also. I read that article back this morning and I cringed. I was young and clumsy with language but I 'spose there is no denying my enthusiasm. Zum Kult Film EP still remains one of my favourites and I have kept that demo to this day. The EP signals the start of something which has become one of my most admired and adored bands of all time; and although slightly embarrassed by the article of a few years ago I feel I should have another shot with the release of their second album 'Hidden' which was out in shops last week.
It is all so easy to lump These New Puritans with apparent influences, when listening to the new album you can hear strains of Neu! and Einstürzende Neubauten alongside The Blue Orchids or maybe even a gentle prod in the direction of Robert Wyatt but I feel listing similar bands somehow does an injustice to the bands uniqueness and musical intelligence. They are, I feel one of the most important bands of the last decade, never loosing integrity or selling-out to a nation of youngsters vegetating in-front of T4 (although I am sure there are worse crimes.)
From the very off-set 'Hidden' is absorbing with a strikingly melancholic introduction in brass, immersing whilst simultaneously putting you at a detached emotional distance before the aural puncture of 'We Want War' brings you right back and sitting to attention. This, also the first single of this release is one of the best 'songs' (for want of a better word) I have heard in recent times and certainly the best this year, although we are only in February it will prove formidable to surpass. Within seven minutes we are taken on an exploratory journey, well honed with every aspect of the intricate minutiae a multi faceted and breathtakingly intelligent progression and this goes for the duration of the album. Throughout, with careful listening we hear recordings of chains and knives interwoven with possible gravel and hammers hitting a variety of objects but then again I could be completely wrong. That's the thing, there is enough to keep you thinking and pondering almost indefinitely.
I don't wish to get too hung-up on analysing the album song-by-song and should this be the first time you've heard of the album (you must be living in a cave somewhere uncharted) I feel it'd be nice for you to discover the albums contents of your own although admittedly slightly guided volition. The comprising tracks although of individual merit are best listened to in the order of the album, tracks referring back to others and vice-versa, a concept-album maybe, more so than the first album 'Beat Pyramid' anyway. If you are These New Puritans savvy, Hidden will no doubt introduce you to a new phase of the bands sound demonstrating their ingenious versatility. Tracks such as 'Attack Music' and 'Hologram' are poles apart but sit discerningly in situe in the albums progression. 'Drum Courts - Where Corals Lie' shows a tender side with a culmination in brass reprise. Hidden is beautiful, and I had to think twice about using such a seemingly haphazard statement; I use the word only when I absolutely mean it and this album certainly deserves the rare accolade. Beauty is not easily achievable with instruments and machines and computers.
I can only now implore you to purchase the album and I am sure the decision to do so will be one of the better judgments you make this month. Please also have a look around the bands website, an example of aesthetic worthiness: http://www.thesenewpuritans.com/
If you are unfamiliar with the work of These New Puritans and wish to sample their previous output it may be worth trying to track down a copy of 'Navigate-Navigate' or the 'Now Pluvial EP' and of course 'Beat Pyramid'. The first two may prove tricky as they were limited vinyl releases but are more than worth the effort of searching.
(Image: CheekMagazine)
On a struggling laptop I used what little music knowledge I had and wrote a review, published in Artrocker, my first full page feature and apparently the bands also. I read that article back this morning and I cringed. I was young and clumsy with language but I 'spose there is no denying my enthusiasm. Zum Kult Film EP still remains one of my favourites and I have kept that demo to this day. The EP signals the start of something which has become one of my most admired and adored bands of all time; and although slightly embarrassed by the article of a few years ago I feel I should have another shot with the release of their second album 'Hidden' which was out in shops last week.
It is all so easy to lump These New Puritans with apparent influences, when listening to the new album you can hear strains of Neu! and Einstürzende Neubauten alongside The Blue Orchids or maybe even a gentle prod in the direction of Robert Wyatt but I feel listing similar bands somehow does an injustice to the bands uniqueness and musical intelligence. They are, I feel one of the most important bands of the last decade, never loosing integrity or selling-out to a nation of youngsters vegetating in-front of T4 (although I am sure there are worse crimes.)
From the very off-set 'Hidden' is absorbing with a strikingly melancholic introduction in brass, immersing whilst simultaneously putting you at a detached emotional distance before the aural puncture of 'We Want War' brings you right back and sitting to attention. This, also the first single of this release is one of the best 'songs' (for want of a better word) I have heard in recent times and certainly the best this year, although we are only in February it will prove formidable to surpass. Within seven minutes we are taken on an exploratory journey, well honed with every aspect of the intricate minutiae a multi faceted and breathtakingly intelligent progression and this goes for the duration of the album. Throughout, with careful listening we hear recordings of chains and knives interwoven with possible gravel and hammers hitting a variety of objects but then again I could be completely wrong. That's the thing, there is enough to keep you thinking and pondering almost indefinitely.
I don't wish to get too hung-up on analysing the album song-by-song and should this be the first time you've heard of the album (you must be living in a cave somewhere uncharted) I feel it'd be nice for you to discover the albums contents of your own although admittedly slightly guided volition. The comprising tracks although of individual merit are best listened to in the order of the album, tracks referring back to others and vice-versa, a concept-album maybe, more so than the first album 'Beat Pyramid' anyway. If you are These New Puritans savvy, Hidden will no doubt introduce you to a new phase of the bands sound demonstrating their ingenious versatility. Tracks such as 'Attack Music' and 'Hologram' are poles apart but sit discerningly in situe in the albums progression. 'Drum Courts - Where Corals Lie' shows a tender side with a culmination in brass reprise. Hidden is beautiful, and I had to think twice about using such a seemingly haphazard statement; I use the word only when I absolutely mean it and this album certainly deserves the rare accolade. Beauty is not easily achievable with instruments and machines and computers.
I can only now implore you to purchase the album and I am sure the decision to do so will be one of the better judgments you make this month. Please also have a look around the bands website, an example of aesthetic worthiness: http://www.thesenewpuritans.com/
If you are unfamiliar with the work of These New Puritans and wish to sample their previous output it may be worth trying to track down a copy of 'Navigate-Navigate' or the 'Now Pluvial EP' and of course 'Beat Pyramid'. The first two may prove tricky as they were limited vinyl releases but are more than worth the effort of searching.
(Image: CheekMagazine)Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
We're Here To File A Complaint.
I can't remember when I first discovered Tocotronic. I started my Last.fm account in 2006 so possibly around that time. Four years later (if indeed it was 2006) they are my most listened to band; who would have thought that the band to take this accolade would sing in German? Stranger things have happened I suppose. It is well recorded that I am a bit of a Germanophile and I have become increasingly interested in the country's music scene and more and more British bands are citing German bands as influences; the recent resurgence of Krautrock styling and synthesized instrumentation as two examples.
Tocotronic are also important in the shaping of contemporary German youth-culture, youngsters from the fatherland copying the bands clothing and haircuts. Tocotronic have been active since 1993 and were recognisable due to their anti-fashion stance preferring to wear clothes found in charity bins, unlabeled, skin-tight and generic, today this has become the norm for anybody remotely 'indie' (though I hate the word) but when Tocotronic first did such it was completely unusual. As for the haircuts, short back and sides with a heavy one-sided fringe became the desired style and if you walk around any European large town or city today it is still the case. Ask the average alternative Brit who Tocotronic are however and they'd draw a blank. It all started with them.
The album cover above is for the album 'Wir Kommen Um Uns Zu Beschweren' (We're Here To File A Complaint) and was released in 1996. I bought this album as I was intrigued by a track that named checked front man of The Fall Mark E. Smith (Ich Habe Geträumt, Ich Wäre Pizza Essen Mit Mark E. Smith) and for someone who spoke very little German I was pleasantly surprised by what I heard. Fast-paced guitar music with raspy and direct German vocals, scratchy and refreshingly homemade (some say similar to Pavement); the music behind the lyrics (the large majority of which I couldn't understand) made me want to know what was being said and four years later I have a better grasp. If you talk to any German about Tocotronic they will tell you that they like them due to their clever, intelligent and political lyrics (poking fun and getting angry about Germany's conservative, middle-class ways.) For me however the lyrics came as secondary of course and my love of Tocotronic came initially from their music and music alone.
I now have most of their releases, 10 studio albums, a plethora of EPs and Maxi-CDs and they have released a new album this week Schall & Wahn (The Sound & The Fury) which is practically unattainable in Britian, thank god for the internet. Today Tocotronic are one of the biggest alternative bands in Germany the fact they are singing in German giving them notable credibility (the only English language release was a version of the 1999 album K.O.O.K.)
The latest album adds further gravitas to Tocotronic's versatility and has a completely different feel from 'Kapitulation' (Surrender - their last studio album released in 2007) as a band they have noticeably moved with the times and maybe we sense a slightly more positive Germany? Although their sound has changed considerably since their conception Tocotronic are always Tocotronic and unmistakably so, the mark of a great band surely? Since I have spoke of Kapitulation here is a video for the title track of the album:
Tocotronic are:
Dirk Von Lowtzow - Lead Vocals, Rhythm Guitar
Jan Müller - Bass
Arne Zank - Drums
Rick McPhail - Lead Guitar, Keyboards
Friday, 22 January 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
