Embra Part One...

I'm having a rather topsy-turvey blogging experience right now. I am listening to the Garvey, and I am blogging, but it is not a Sunday evening. It is in fact Saturday morning. I do feel a bit like I'm having an out of body experience. Anyway, I'm catching up on Guy's show from last week when I was in Embra, and instead of being out having fun at the weekend after a rather hard week at works I am stuck at home nursing a sick mother. And trying not to feel too disgruntled about it.

So here is, as promised, my Embra diary Part One, because halfway through writing I realised how long it was going to be and decided to split it. Warning - contains large consumption of alcohol and some adult content.

Thursday
5am - I literally drag myself out of bed attempting to erase the debacle that was the War on Drugs show in Farnham the night before. Being the orginisational bunny that I am, today's outfit is already laid out for me to squeeze into, and there's a handy list of everything that needs packing.
6:15am - One big mug of coffee later I am trying to not fall asleep in Southampton departures. Would've indulged in another big mug of coffee but a latte cost £2.90 and it was not a trusted mulit-national chain.
6:45am - Am herded into a tiny 'gate' (bascially just an area of the departure lounge with 3 sides partioned) amongst lots and lots of business men who all know each other.
7:10am -There was a plane ride, but to be honest I took a nap. We did fly over my old Southampton house which was nice.
9am- Be impressed, I am on the (right) bus on the way into Embra city centre.
10:30am - After streching BHS's Coffee Lounge hospitiality to the limit (which really isn't that far, it is BHS) the partner in crime arrives and we embark on the hike to our lovely halls.
11:30am - We finally get there, I am sweating like a beast and my neck and shoulders have seized up due to heavy bag carrying. And of course the room isn't ready, so we dump the luggage (literally) and trek back into town.
12pm - I think we ate a rather delicious muffin from Chocolate Soup (if there is one within a 100 mile radius of you, go there, it's worth it).

I think of the rest of the afternoon we hung out in town, and then went to investigate our room, which was lovely.

8pm - Bill Bailey. I'm going to say 2.5 out of 5. He's gone a bit surreal, and his set mainly centres around songs now rather than traditional stand up. And some of it seemed familiar, I think because it was just a similiar concept to his show that I saw a few years ago.
11pm - Some olympic watching and then bed!

Friday

9:30am - Tried the porridge at breakfast but it was way too runny for me. I am Goldilocks. Had some museli instead which was probably the best museli I've ever had.

14:15pm( I think) We saw a rather enjoyable play called 'Lucky You'. I'm going to go for a 3.5 out of 5 for that one. The American accents were slightly dubious, but the music was done by Loudon Wainwright III and the cast were playing about 3 characters each.

18:50pm - In a ridiculously hot shoe box (which was hot becuaes the rest of the venue was nice and cool) we witnessed the bizarre ramblings of Andrew Clover, who does the Dad Rules column at the back of Sunday Times Style magazine. He was a little more 'theatrical' (read camp) that I was expecting, and pretty much just read out his coloumns as 'stories' with a bit of filler inbetween. Quite funny though. And made the Americans in the front row feel really uncomfortable when he kept picking on them.

21:30pm - Yeah so we though we'd catch a show in a swimming pool. Seriously. We weren't the in pool, Liz Bentley was. We were roasting sitting round the side watching her. She was a bit wierd, funnily enough, but apparently she was only in the pool cos it was the cheapest venue she could get! Brilliant. She did poems and sang songs with a ukelele and a thirty quid Casio. I want a ukelele. A lot. I think we pretty much hit the entire spirit on the fringe nail on the head with that show. After it finished we attmpted the climb home, but we were so cold after being sat fully clothed in a pool that we had to stop off at Pleasance for a drink haha. When we got back I had the munchies and we ran into a security guard who took us on a super confusing route through a million corridors to a vending machine! We were then stuck though, cos we couldn't remember the way back and our swipe cards wouldn't work. We did make it to bed eventually though.

Saturday and Sunday to come...

A bunch of stuff...

Gosh well it's been a while hasn't it. I have started to hate working at the holiday club even more (if it's possible). Phone message at 6:30pm 'Please can you come in at 8am tomorrow kthnxbye'. I attempt to phone back, but apparently boss lady had gone up. So I show up at 8am, none too happy as I have to be up at 5am the next day and have a gig to go to that night. So I get there at 8am, cos I'm good like that and no-one else bloody does til 8:20, when the grump site manager shows up at takes another 10 minutes to actually let me in. What a bloody piss take. And then there was the small matter of having to put the tables out, which was clearly not a task suited to someone my height and weight, and as a result I nearly broke my back. And now they're asking me to wear some hideous polo shirt that is going to be far too big as everyone else that works there is a size fucking triple X L. And then they had the cheek to ask what size I am. I mean, granted I don't look like I haven' t eaten in 6 months anymore, but to be fair that's probably a good thing. 2 weeks left though, I'm going to laugh in their faces if they ask me to stay on.

What else? Field Day Festival was an absolute wash out. Got there at 12 to see Noah and the Whale, who were having some serious problems until about half way through their six song set, so it was pretty much a waste of time. It rained. A lot. My hands went blue. I shivered through Laura Marling who was absolutely amazing, despite whinging that she didn't have a keyboard player, which no one would've noticed had she not mentioned it. That took us to 4:30pm, where there were some genuine concerns for my health, and so we shipped off home, without seeing... well everyone really - King Creosote, Lightspeed Chamption, and, worst of all, Fionn Regan.

Also a horrific gig in Farnham, busiest pub ever, no where for the band to play, and some ambiguity about if it was the right band as they were so bloody awful

Oh yeah and then there's Edinburgh, which quite frankly deserves a whole entry of it's own. At least one.

Stay tuned haha....

Festival Chic baby, Festival Chic

So.. the news in brief. Got job. Like job. Driving to job not that great. Thanks a lot TomTom. New iPod transmitter also not that great resulting in much distraction when driving. Not good. Home alone for 2 weeks. 1 week to go. Grandmother didn't die. Hurray! Parents crap at answering mobiles. Seven hour shift at holiday club almost bearable. Nick is nice. Two jobs and still no money. Oh and unfortunate self dousing incident involving petrol and resulting in loss of favourite shoes.

So, today, Innocent Village Fete in Regents Park. I am planning to do a proper review at some point, I've made notes and everything. In short though, very wet, but being the festival veteran that I am, I was prepared - I wore quick drying clothes, a waterproof jacket (breaking it in for Embra) and boots. Still got rather soggy though. Angus Stone appeared to have not cut his hair since last time I saw them (May) and is looking more rugged model than well groomed model these days. I got a free litre of smoothie at the end, mango and carrot flavour. Luckily it tastes neither of carrots or oranges, and I was rather pleased about not having to fork out for another extortionately priced drink to have on the train home. The festival was all about organic, being green, ethical, blah blah, but ultimately was sponsored by McDonalds. The irony is almost too much.

2 weeks today I shall be returning from my summer holiday. Round about now actually. in 10 days I will be embarking on my summer holiday. Do the math. More of a mini-break than a holiday. It will be incredible though, there is no question. I went hunting for a killer dress on Saturday... I found bugger all. Unbelievable. Hopefully the old faithful eBay will provide, as long as I can get home in time from work tomorrow to actually bid.

So, aim for the week is to get to work (Aldershot) on time the two days I'm there this week, and also to come up with better names for my two jobs other than work and other work. Because they're interchangeable depending on which one I'm currently referring to. Suggestions gratefully received. Maybe kid and non-kid work? Not particularly catchy.

Ida Maria's album is amazing, and much better than I thought it would be. Nice.

Finally... just noticed my legs are really really smooth. Sod Gillette, Sainsbury's cheaper version all the way.

Pip.

Sunday Bloody Sunday....

So Sunday rolls round again. Sunday Bloody Sunday. Which track by U2 is incidentally covered in a rather poor fashion by Saul Williams on his rather brilliantly titled album The Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust. I was, sadly, disappointed with his latest offering, particuarly because he had Trent Reznor on board, and the collaboration has hardly gone off with a bang. It's good up to about track 8 and then it all gets a bit ridiculous - see the U2 and Earth, Wind and Fire cover.

Leonard Cohen was sublime at the O2 on Thursday night. I have possibly never seen such a professional, humble and gracious performer as him and his band. And I really really hope at age 74 I can still run around and bend my knees like he does. Highlights of his mammoth three hour set include Hallelujah (as it should be), First We Take Manhatten, Take This Waltz and some spoken word stuff. The review is in progress...has been since I scribbled a few thoughts down during the show...which I now can't read.

The O2 as a venue didn't really hit the spot for me, and as Leonard Cohen put it himself, it's 'the other side of intimacy'. It literally is like being in a huge cavernous space with some tiny people at one end making a nice noise. It also wasn't particularly loud. It was fine where we were, but an further back and I think you'd be struggling. They also had some huge screens hanging from the ceiling, which I see as a blessing and a curse. I mean, it's nice to see some close up detail, facial features, hell even what colour suit he's wearing. but then it's also like watching the performance on tv, which really does defeat the purpose. And there's no chance of plummeting to your death from some ridiculously steep bank of seats if you're at home.

I (hopefully) have a new job, writing some fashion blogs in Aldershot. The work at the out of school/holiday club is sporadic and unreliable at best, especially as there's no firm rota in place from week to week. So hopefully I can just fit it in around this blogging job, because it's far more like what I want to do, as opposed to finger painting and lego. Although I do enjoy that in my spare time... Might be doing some other (paid!) writing work as well, but I need to come up with 500 word pieces on celebrity trends and fashion, which quite frankly I'm struggling with a bit. Perhaps I need to invest in OK or Hello. Answers on a postcard....celebrity postcards? Probably not.

Also if anyone has a cure for asthma, again, answers on a postcard, because mine is rearing it's ugly head (or lungs/windpipe?) at the moment and I am really struggling with the breathing thing which really is inconvenient.

Toddles

I sincerely apologise for all the trouble I've caused...

You find me in the company of Guy Garvey this evening. On that radio that is. As if I'd be sat here blogging if Mr Garvey was present. Anyway, enough Garvey-gushing. You also find me in the company of my exciting new wireless keyboard, which is making it much easier for me to type. I should've got one ages ago really. Laptop keys are just too delicate for my 'aggressive' speed typing.

This week has been rather dull. I worked a grand total of 4 hours. That equates to less than £30. Not good. And it's looking the same for this week. Hopefully my hours will go up by about 500% when the school holidays kick in.

I have the amazingly titled new Saul Williams album to review - The Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust! Only he could get away with that. And it has List of Demands on, which is one of my favourite tracks by him. Also incredible to listen to when running/working out!

I really want a tattoo but I don't know what to get! Argh. I sort of want lyrics a la Simon Neil of Biffy Clyro (he has 'god only knows what I'd be without out across his chest). Also, Simon Neil is married! I am devastated. And slightly surprised. His wife must be one tough lady, dealing with all the time apart, and pulling him through the recent death of his mother and stuff. Apparently he was doing some pretty dark stuff. I guess it's that kind of stuff that makes you realise you're in it for the long run! Anyway, yeah lyrics - the ones I want are too long and I can't choose between them. I'm swaying towards 'I sincerely apologise for all the trouble I've caused' - the name of David Ford's first album, but I'm not sure. I'm also thinking about maybe a little heart or flower or something. Apparently there's a big feature in this month's Vogue on tattoos so I'm going to check that out. I definitely want it on my back though, pretty high up, on one side. Not on my shoulder blades though, cos they stick out a bit and apparently it really hurts to have it on bones.

I need to get back to running 5/6 days a week. I just wake up and think 'oh I can't be bothered'. Lazy. And as a result, my stomach is looking like there's a rubber ring residing round it. Have started using one of those fitness ball things - and man do they give you a good workout. I did the whole DVD that went with it, it was about 45 minutes long, and I felt SO good after, like all my muscles had been stretched and everything. Especially my back, which is good because I sometimes have trouble with it. Anyway, those babies are not just for bouncing up and down on, you can do some serious work with them! So hopefully I will be well on my way to getting a nice six pack soon haha.

Anyway, back to Mr Garvey.

'Pip pip.

Idlewild experience mid-life crisis?

I went to see Idlewild last Thursday night at ULU in London. Despite having been together for more than 10 years the band still look remarkably young, not least lead singer Roddy Woomble who was looking rather dashing in a shirt/jeans/pointy shoes combo. Lead guitarist Bob was sporting his 'summer wardrobe' which seemed to consist of light blue garments only. Anyway clearly the band had spent all their many on their new clothes, because they decided they couldn't afford a support band. Instead they took to the stage roundabout 8:30pm with acoustic guitars and bass and proceeded to play a short but sweet acoustic set and effectively support themselves. Highlights included a beautiful performance of El Capitan and American English. I think about a third of the audience wouldn't have minded if they played unplugged for the whole evening, a third were itching for electric guitars and drums, and a third didn't realise until about 3 songs in that the band on stage were actually Idlewild. But that's a London crowd for you. After 'sitting in a room for a wee while' the band returned fully plugged in and with a ridiculous hike in volume. Launching into a frenzied set that included old favourites, B-sides, rarities and the odd actual hit, it seems Idlewild have almost come full circle on themselves. Their first 2 albums were rather post-punk, heavy sounding affairs, with Roddy plumping for a more Americanised accent than his native Scottish. More recent albums, Warnings/Promises and The Remote Part have seen the band embrace their Scottish roots and mellow somewhat, making more lilting, folk music, but still with that unique Idlewild soaring sound. Roddy released his solo album, full of traditional Scottish folk music, and mainly all acoustic. Naturally when touring the last two albums, the band played heavily from both, with fairly little old material aside from the ones they couldn't get away with omitting, like Roseability. However, having caught them live a couple of years ago, and last week, the band are now playing more material from their earlier albums, giving a completely different dynamic to their shows. It's almost like they feel they need to prove they're still young and rock n roll. None the less, it makes for an engaging and certainly energetic performance, resulting in much crowd-surfing and over-familiarity at the front, mainly participated in by men who are old enough to know better, and were clearly there first time round. Playing for close to 2 hours altold, Idlewild prove they certainly haven't lost their touch later in life, and are just as passionate and rock n roll as when they first began with 'Chandelier', which received one of the biggest cheers of the night.

Also, from my rather enjoyable vantage point in the front row of the balcony upstairs (who knew there was a balcony at ULU?! Not me until Thursday) I was able to get some half decent pictures, and a more than half decent view of the entire stage.

In other news...started my new job last Thursday in a rather disorganised, shambolic fashion. My boss was 45 minutes late and then she literally chucked me in the room with the kids, luckily there were other play workers present! However, I don't have a staff t-shirt, ID card, time sheet... I don't even know what my hourly rate is. I really should've gone looking for her when I finished at 6 but I had to get to London for the Idlewild show... and I would've been kicking myself if I hadn't made it in time for their 'support'. So she e-mailed my mum to ask if I could work tomorrow and Tuesday... clearly she didn't even have a contact number for me. Hopefully things will get sorted tomorrow... although I can't even remember how to get to the room the kids are in.

I saw my lovely cousin in a production of Oliver! on Saturday night. She's only 11, so naturally the part of Nancy would've been a bit ambitious for her, but she was a brilliant workhouse girl/flower girl/general chorus girl. And kudos to all of them for performing it all week and then two shows on Saturday without collapsing. My aunt, who had been acting as matron (not in the show, backstage...the kids have to have one 'matron' to a certain number, generally just a looker-after!) and seemed to be absolutely exhausted! The guy who played Fagin was cracking, he had the weird eyes and did a brilliant Russian/Jewish accent. And was probably quite young as it was a youth theatre production. What fun musical theatre is, dahlings...

Toodles

A brief hiatus....hiatus...what a word....

................It is I!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, yes. I return, and even more excitingly, I return quite possibly gainfully employed. Hopefully. I'm doing a couple of hours at an after school club next week, which I'm getting paid for, and which will hopefully lead to summer job. Yeah! Working with children. I'm excited, I think. Kids are fun, and never cease to amaze me. Except the bad'uns. I'll whip them into shape though.

I caught up with a friend who I hadn't seen in forever yesterday, which was really nice. It's interesting how, when questioned, you're able to describe a year of your life in 30 seconds or so. It's kind of worrying that a whole year of life can be condensed like that. Rambling on for half an hour about yourself doesn't particularly make for good conversation though.

I finally get paid for my work in May next week. I have already spent it, which is unfortunate as it has to last me til the end of July. Whoops. Well I'm sure I'll be happy wearing my new make-up, listening to my new cds, watching my new dvds, but unable to leave the house because I can't afford petrol or anything. Materialistic, moi?

Got rid of my keys for John Street today. It only took a minute long phone call in the end, but I'd still put it off til the last day possible. Hopefully I'll get my deposit back in a week or so. I won't hold my breath though, I've already had enough dealings with estate agents to know that that would be foolish. It's nice to be finally done with the house, except that I'm still paying the internet bill until October. But whatever, it's not hanging over me like it was before every time I saw the keys!

Other than that it's all quiet on the Western front...I need a hobby.

Toodles.

Throw those curtains wide...

Elbow, Elbow, Elbow. Last night was the Royal Festival Hall gig. It was incredible, mind-blowing, life-affirming.... Here's the review I cobbled together today. It still needs a little work... not least on the length!

Elbow – Royal Festival Hall – Massive Attack’s Meltdown 16/06/08

Across the river tonight, Coldplay are making their live comeback with a free show at Brixton Academy. On this side of the Thames, Elbow are playing to a sell-out crowd at Royal Festival Hall. It’s one of the biggest bands in the world versus the band they ripped off.

Unlike Coldplay, who will always be guaranteed a place on countless coffee tables no matter who they rip off, Elbow have a bit more to prove. There’s the critics, who, bar latest album ‘Seldom Seen Kid’, have been less than complimentary over the last 15 years. There’s the fans, those who have been there from the beginning, and those who bought ‘Seldom Seen Kid’ on a ‘like-Coldplay-you’ll-love-this’ basis. There’s Massive Attack, this year’s Meltdown curators, who handpicked Elbow not just because they’re fellow Manchester comrades, but because they think they deserve it. Then there’s the band themselves. 2008 is looking decidedly like make or break for Elbow. They’ve moved record labels, had babies, and released their most critically acclaimed album to date. If it doesn’t come together this year, will it ever? When put like that, it’s a wonder the band make it on stage at all.

But of course they do, with frontman Guy Garvey looking dapper in a black shirt and black pork-pie hat for the occasion. Kicking off with a fairly unspectacular opener ‘Station Approach’, the evening kicks off, well, fairly unspectacularly. By about six songs in, it’s looking like Elbow are treating this as any other gig. Refusing to divulge any details about the show in recent interviews, it seems as if the audience has been teased by a rather prudish Elbow, who fail to deliver the goods. ‘Grounds for Divorce’ fills the huge auditorium, with guitar riffs sounding extra filthy, but it’s no different to the performance on their recent UK tour.

Just as it’s looking like Coldplay, with their matching uniforms and tribal drumming are pulling ahead, Elbow start playing the gig of their lives. It sounds as though a group of rather vocally talented men in the crowd are singing/chanting the chorus of ‘Any Day Now’, from Elbow’s debut, ‘Asleep In The Back’. Not quite though, as an entire male choir files on from stage left, and augment Elbow on every track for the rest of the evening. This is pulling it out of the bag. This is the show of their lives.

From here on in, the show is transformed, and not just by ‘Jeff’ the choir. ‘Starlings’ is given it’s live debut, with horn blasts coming from all band members, the soundman halfway back in the auditorium, and the two highest boxes on either side. It’s also a rare outing for ‘Presuming Ed (Rest Easy)’, because, in Garvey’s own words, ‘the band can’t do it by themselves’. A delicate, fragile song, ‘Presuming Ed’ could easily have been lost in a venue this size, or one infinitely smaller for that matter. However, with the subtle but strong presence of Jeff the choir, Garvey’s almost breaking vocals are lifted to new heights.

The cherry on Elbow’s cake is undoubtedly ‘Newborn’. Taken from their debut, ‘Asleep in the Back’, the album holds some truly magnificent tracks that the band have never topped. Beginning as an acoustic, gentle number, the audience (possibly those only familiar with recent work), use this as an opportunity to pop out for a drink, have a chat, and generally ignore the impending cacophony of a soundscape that’s coming their way. As the track hits the middle eight, keyboardist Craig Potter slips off stage, probably unnoticed by most. The band continue the lilting instrumental, as a small box at the back of the stage lights up. And it’s when ‘Newborn’ hits its huge, all-encompassing, sweeping crescendo that the audience start to take notice. The back of stage becomes illuminated, and we see Mr Potter plugging away at the organ, amidst it all. This is the show’s, and Elbow’s defining moment. Yes, they can write catchy riffs, politically charged songs, middle-of-the-road indie with the best of them. But can the best of them do this? Absolutely not. As the track concludes with its abrupt ending, there’s a stunned silence before the onslaught of the biggest applause of the night, and a spontaneous standing ovation from the entire room. ‘Is this rock?’ the person next to me asks? No sir, it certainly isn’t, and that’s perhaps why Elbow have never hit the mainstream – they’ve simply got too much depth for pigeon-holing.

Guy Garvey is also clearly blown away, and proceeds to completely miss the opening note on ‘Grace Under Pressure’, despite an introduction from the choir that manages to make the line ‘We still believe in love, so fuck you’ sound like a celestial chant. Second time lucky though, and the entire audience joins in with that should-be infamous line.

Finishing their triumphant set on current single and possibly the most uplifting song ever ‘One Day Like This’, all doubts are firmly quashed. Whether they make it this year or not, anyone in Royal Festival Hall will tell you that Elbow are truly a brilliant band, made up of talented, inventive, dedicated and determined musicians, who quite frankly deserve more than coffee table success anyway.

Hats off to them

Work tomorrow. Morning and afternoon exams.Really not looking forward to it, and the fact that I've only got 3 exams left doesn't seem to be making the slightest bit of difference. Ho hum.

David bloody Davis...

So David Davis resigns over the 42 days saga. Surely, if anyone was going to resign, it should've been those on the Labour party who voted against the government. But no, Mr Davis resigns because he wants to waste time and money by getting himself re-elected to draw attention to the issue. Er, excuse me Mr Davis, but I think we're all already bloody aware of the issue at hand here, and you faffing about trying to get votes in some Northern town no-one's ever heard of until yesterday isn't going to change that. I find the whole debacle a ridiculous waste of time, and it seems he's just drawing attention to himself rather than the issue at hand. Bugger all this banging on about the Magna Carte, why doesn't he stand up in Parliament and continue to fight on the issue instead of getting on the campaign trail? No wonder David Cameron looked a wee bit embarrassed. And let's face it, he's going to look like a bit of an idiot when the legislation doesn't get through Lords and the big vote looks fairly insignificant and unimportant.

I am pretty shocked the government won though. I don't understand how anyone could think this is a good idea. For starters, it's 2 weeks, which in the grand scheme of things probably won't make that much difference. I imagine if the government tried for any longer length of time they wouldn't have stood a chance though. But just think about it - the constant terror scares in this country mean that the public want to see people being investigated, plans being thwarted, the police constantly protecting us. So therefore at a whiff of something vaguely Al Qedia, rucksack, aeroplane, or even Muslim related, they pounce. So for all those innocent people arrested (which doubtless there are many), they can lose six weeks of their lives. Imagine you are held in custody for six weeks. What happens when you get out? Do you still have a job to go to after that time? Do you still even have a roof over your head, or have you missed a rent or mortgage payment? Do you have a huge stack of unpaid bills and final reminders and bailiffs at your door? It is ridiculous. Granted yes, it is only another 2 weeks to the current legislation, but who's to say it'll stop now? In American people can be detained for up to 6 months, even longer. Will the UK continually add 2 weeks until we get to 2 months, 3 months. I think really this sets a precedent that the government will be able to rely on to take this law further, which is very, very dangerous.

Granted terrorism is a serious threat, people do need to be caught and prevented from causing carnage. But if there's enough evidence for arrest then surely another months is more than enough to bring charges?

What a shambles.

Also, Chris Martin walking out halfway through an interview about his new album because the questions were too hard. I understand perhaps some artists not wanting to go too much indepth about their music, and leave it for the listeners to interpret without influence, but he clearly just couldn't be bothered to talk for fear of sounding like a fool and revealing that perhaps Viva La Vida, despite its high-brow cultural links, is in fact not particularly well thought out and that Martin still can't write a chorus. Perhaps. Annoyinly though, it's still a damn good album.

Plays, songsheets and and empty void of nothingness...

So, Thursday night, Duke Special. A little disappointing quite frankly. He spent far too much time messing about with pointless theatrical stuff, most of which I'd already seen (although that's obviously not his fault). Granted he was on stage for nearly 2 hours, but a lot of that was spent messing about. Being a solo show, he had no band with him, but instead decided to play along to a backing track. Since when did that become acceptable for a serious musician to do on stage? The highlight was when he got the entire room to sit down for Freewheel, which was a pretty beautiful moment. Apart from that though, it seems that he's a lot better with a band than without, particular Chip 'cheese grater and whisk' Bailey.

Yesterday I went to see a play, 'God of Carnage'. It was a little too farcical for my liking, and the acting was a bit 'drama school'. Perhaps not worth the £40 ticket. Still, it's something to do.

So as of next week I have nothing to do with my time, apart from wade and wade through piles of CDs that need reviewing, which I'm really starting to lose the passion for. I need something to get out of bed for.

'Pip.

Well the world's getting heavy and it sticks to my feet...

Another day, another pitiful display of the disillusioned younger generation throwing their life away, in the form of English Language. Foundation tier, of course. One boy decided he'd just draw graffiti about smoking dope. By all means smoke dope, but that's really no reason not to do your English exam. He got removed about 25 minutes in, and probably sloped off to get high. It would've been a lot more fun getting high if he'd actually done the exam though, wouldn't it? The rest seemed to manage to write about 3 sides of A4 in the two hours. Now unless they're all the most succinct, concise writers in the world, there's no way any of them are going to get near the 100 marks for the paper with that amount of writing. Still, I suppose the world needs plumbers and hairdressers too. I know that's a really flippant, classist, maybe even ignorant remark to make, but I think that there's probably a certain amount of truth in it.

Anyway, the shaky hands society will be in in 10 years or so aside, things are ticking along nicely. I did my first reviews for The Line Of Best Fit and they weren't too bad. It was hard, as I suspected it would be, to write three times as much as I normally do for an album, but with a bit if help from Wikipedia for some background info I managed to to churn out a healthy 400 words for each, so hopefully they'll go up sometime this week.

I have a date with the Duke (Special) on Thursday night, which should hopefully be a lovely occasion, and hopefully not similar to the show I saw at the end of last year. Review to follow I'm sure...

I'm still absolutely in love with Elbow, and cannot wait for their show at Royal Festival Hall. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for some kind of orchestra augmentation. I asked them about it recently, for an interview for Tasty (which was an absolute pleasure, sadly it was only an e-mail interview thought) but they were keeping tight lipped on their plans, so hopefully they'll be pulling something spectacular out the bag.

Can't believe YSL and Bo Diddely have died. I mean I can, but still. I see the death of YSL as quite a timely reminder that a lot of the fashion greats- Prada, Gucci, Versace (although she'd never admit it) and now certainly in the later stages of life, so it's a sad though that a lot of them will be off to big fashion house in the sky soon. And as for Bo Diddely, well I'll make not attempt to summarise what he did for music, except to say that it's definitely a big loss. RIP.

That is all, apart from the fact that I really need to make some kind of employment plan, because I'll be out of a job in a couple of weeks when the exam's finished, so I could do with anther one in place really.

'Pip.

Kelly Rowland, anyone?

As much as I enjoy reviewing CDs, sometimes I really really hate it. Like when I need to review 7 in one afternoon, which is what happened today. It's now ten to seven in the evening, and I've still got 2 to go. Granted I have only spent about 2 hours today actually reviewing. Today's Tasty package was quite the disappointment. Number one, they were all full length albums, which is more time consuming all round, and two, a lot of them were bloody awful, particularly the offering from a Ms. Kelly Rowland. I'm not sure why Sony BMG though it would be a good idea to sent a predominantly alternative music zine this particularly horrifically radio friendly, r n b gem, but they did, and lucky me got to review it. Needless to say, it was pretty poor, but at least I only had to listen to a couple of tracks to find that out. Luckily there were a couple of saving graces that travelled with Ms Rowland, and to stop me giving up on music entirely.

Elsewhere, I've decided to learn Spanish. (Not actually elsewhere, at the same desk where I do everything -review/blog/watch/listen/learn.) I got a little CD/booklet thing out the library today, and have every intention of listening to it as soon as I shift these CDs. It's only on loan for a month though so I better get cracking.

I got Beth Rowley's album the other day. I was a little concerned she'd just play it safe with a voice like that, and sadly she has. The reggae inspred cover of Bob Dylan's I Shall Be Released is pretty awful, and she even manages to make Willie Nelson sound boring. A little too much record label ((Universal, a huge conglomerate of course) influence there I think, as she sang far more interesting songs when I saw her live.

Back to the listening post...

I can't talk... it's 7am.

So this week I began the exams. Not my exams, obviously, but a large bunch of delightful 16 year olds who need someone on hand for pens, pencils, rulers, numerous toilet trips and general consolation during their GCSEs. On Russell Howard's radio show they were discussing how most invigilators are about 125. They were right. When I wandered in the other morning I'm pretty sure one such lady was about to ask me if I was taking the exam. Anyway, in conclusion exams are boring for everyone involved. At least if you're taking them you get to sit down. Standing up for nearly 3 hours is really no fun. Neither is having to take someone to the toilet ever 2 minutes. I'm sorry, lovely pupil, if you think it's a fun way to fill the time instead of actually doing your exam, but quite frankly I'm sick of trailing back and forth. So you can just cross your legs.

In all seriousness though, I do find this job a little disheartening. In maths yesterday, most of the kids turned up without even a ruler, in some cases not even a pen or pencil. I can't imagine caring so little about something relatively future shaping like GCSEs to show up completely unprepared. At my school, (approximately 3 miles away from this one), we were threatened with not being able to do the exam if we didn't have the right equipment, which to a future-conscious 16 year-old was pretty terrifying.

It gets worse though. Today was English Literature, and someone asked me how to spell literature. I don't really have the words to describe how I felt. Amused, briefly perhaps, but mainly very very concerned. For starters it was on the paper right in front of her. And secondly: COME ON! At least she cared enough to ask though.

Granted it isn't the worlds' best school, and a lot of the kids don't have the easiest of backgrounds. But it's the sense of apathy that worries me. Fine, maybe they don't plan to enter higher education. But is that a reason to waste an entire 5 years of secondary school learning just because you 'can't be bothered' to write something in 2 1/2 hours? It's disheartening to say the least. With more than a month left of this job, my plan is to ignore it, otherwise how on earth am I going to get out of bed in the morning. The 7am starts are bad enough (I am literally on auto-pilot, I have a routine, I stick to it, if anything else happens I may have some kind of breakdown. Communication is out of the question), without worrying about the demise of our population.

In more exciting and optimistic news, I'm going to be writing for The Line of Best Fit soon. It's a fanzine, like Tasty, but on a slightly bigger scale, they seem to have a lot more material and more high-profile albums, gigs, etc. I love Tasty, but I am more than comfortable there, so it's time to step up a gear I think, but I'll continue to write for them - every little helps, as they say.

Fun and games, fun and games....

Toddles.

My life in two car boots....

I recently moved out of my student house and back home. I hate moving. I'm only 21, and I really can't imagine ever wanting to move enough to do it again. It's a ridiculous amount of hassle. Packing, carrying, unpacking, not having enough space to unpack into and having to throw things out. I'm not a very big person, and yet I still have a huge amount of stuff - I've almost filled the wheelie bin and any available cupboard space with stuff I haven't got space for and don't really need. Student living is pretty wasteful - you move into a barely furnished room, have to buy a bunch of furniture, kitchen stuff, bed linen, everything, which ultimately you only use for 8 months of the year, then you bring it all home and have 2 of everything. Or at least you do if you like it at home anyway, which I do. I have it pretty easy at home, probably one of the reasons I decided to move back here whilst I complete my final year at uni. Only child, I live in the loft (it was converted, I don't have to climb a ladder every night), own bathroom, and a pretty good relationship with the parents.

So here I am, back on home farm for the forseeable future. Just the small matter of a well paid job to sort out. My car Daisy had it's MOT today, and a bit more, and cost £430. Ouch squared.

On the plus side, I made some bloody nice blueberry muffins today. I love baking.

'Pip pip.

Sun, sunburn, and the perfect omelette

So it's been sunny. Nice, but not my favourite. Particularly the beach. It's just a bit boring really isn't it? So I went to Bournemouth yesterday, had a look at the beach, concluded it was still there, still boring, and went home. Passes the time I suppose.

More excitingly yesterday I also made an absolutely perfect omelette. Perhaps for most people this might not be a great achievement... but after nearly 22 years of definitely NOT liking eggs, I've decided they're all right, especially omelettes and quiches. In fact pretty much exclusively omelettes and quiches. That's as far as I've ventured into the world of eggs so far. Anyway, yesterday my omelette was absolutely perfect. Cooked to perfection on both sides, and, more excitingly, I successfully flipped (twice) and there were no rips or tears, and it maintained a perfectly circular shape. One of the best meals of my life, mhmm.

Also Anäis Mitchell - Hymns for the Exiled - corker. Here's my review

Firstly I’d like you to take a moment to appreciate the two dots above the ‘a’ in Anäis, which is spent a fair amount of time trying to find. And make no mistake, I only did it because Anäis herself has taken the time to make a sublime album.

1984 is a brilliantly innovative cross between the tune of Prince’s 1999 and references to George Orwell’s 1984, resulting in the line: ‘we’re going to party like its 1984’. Who said disco couldn’t be intelligent.

It’s a simply made album, recorded in a barn with just guitar and vocals, making it charming, quaint, and quintessentially folk. However, Hymns for the Exiled goes a little deeper than your average folk album – more Joni Mitchell than Fairport Convention, and Anäis displays the singing and songwriting skills of someone a lot older than her relatively few years. Loveliness not to be taken lightly.

Also if you're a Maccabees/Cajun Dance Party fan, check out The Thirst, they're rather enjoyable.

Other than that I'm sitting around waiting to do my exam and then go home and properly begin my monumentally long summer. Laterz (ironic z).

Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio

I am currently reclining with some milkybar buttons watching a drama featuring the delightful James Nesbitt. Life is sweet. I am currently not thinking about my impending exam, and the slightly less impending start of part of my summer employment which involves 7am starts. Ouch.

Today my best of Joy Division cd arrvied. It really is incredible, and ridiculous to think that this music is over 20 years old. Ian Curtis died six years before I was born, yet here I am, aged 21, listening to his music since I was 16 or so. Despite having fairly limited success at the time, I think Joy Division are one of those truly brilliant bands and will never be matched, like The Beatles or The Beach Boys. For a few glorious years, everything fits and they produce some of the finest music the world has ever heard, and then it's over, but the music doesn't lose any of it's dignity or value, and becomes utterly timeless. I wonder if such bands had stayed together longer and made an average album or two then maybe their music would still be held in such revere. I'm glad they didn't, although obviously Ian Curtis' death is a huge tragedy. As Neil Young said: 'It's better to burn out than to fade away'. I'll also never know how they find Sam Riley to play Ian Curtis in 'Control'. The likeness is quite frankly terrifying, and I'm sure it must've given Deborah Curtis quite the shock the first time she saw him in character. Whenever I watch that film I always find myself drawn into the story of Deborah/Ian/Annik, and then end up hating Ian for abandoning Deborah and Natalie, and putting her through the pain of having an affair. But then you listen to Joy Division, and realise that, whilst feelings are important, some things transcend them, and I think that's definitely the case with Joy Division's music. Yes, he was a shit, but he was also very sick and struggled with the concepts of right and wrong. The amount of energy he put into his music ulimately meant he had none left for his home life, and so it suffered. I do always wonder why he felt the need to marry so early. I find it hard to believe it was simply his idea, he must have felt he had to conform. I don't think it was his parents, and all his ideals were must definitely unattached - Bowie, Jim Morrisson, and later Frank Sinatra. Even for 30 or so years ago marrying at aged 19/20 was still quite uncommon I think. It's certainly an interesting part of his life.

Anyway enough of Joy Division. Along with my Joy Division CD I also got series on of Gavin and Stacey. Whilst humour wise, it's fairly rudimentary and a little cringe-worthy, I find the storylines pretty charming and I have a wee bit of a soft spot for Mathew Horne (Gavin). The half hour episodes are quite the little treat.

Toddlepip

I'm the Queen of the word...I bump into things....

Deadline day looms and I am ready to go. The work is primed, printed, presented and...probably going to be fine? Sadly we are still a few pages short of a magazine, so another early start tomorrow to bag a mac in the madhouse that is the IT suite. Just being in that place makes me stressed and I've got nothing to be stressed about.

Wanted to show my face at the Tasty gig tonight, mainly to meet the lovely Northern men who are kind enough to put my musical scribblings on their website, and also to pose and meet some cool people and look cool in Kilburn. Most of those things probably wouldn't happen anyway though, and that's merely the image of myself I have in my head, rather than the one I project.
In the end it's just too far/expensive/big a sacrifice for sleep and, in all honesty, I'm a little nervous about going alone anyway. Hopefully there will be other occasions though, and I do feel bad about not supporting them... I can't expect them to run a website to showcase my work if I can't be bothered to sit on a train for an hour and a half.

David Ford is now apparently NOT playing Glasto. Just when I'd got used to the idea. And there's no other UK festivals or UK shows til Autumn/Winter. I honestly do not think I can last that long. He needs to come home now! I have some angry energy to release, and only a Ford gig will do it for me.

Beautiful day today... although I only had chance to appreciate it when rushing from uni building to uni building, and then I just got too hot becuase I was rushing. If it could keep it up for the rest of the week that would be fabulous, although it will undoubtedly be lovely again tomorrow and then rain of the rest of the week.

I'm off to stress out about nothing in particular. Marvellous. Chin chin.

Essays and Adonis...

I'm currently half way through a 2000 word essay about persuasion in advertising. I really could not care less about this subject. Advertising to me means wankers in suits. And the less I write essays, the more I realise I'm getting worse at them. Each time I write one (which is usually only about every 4 months or so) it becomes more and more of a struggle. This time I'm even forgetting not to contract words, like is not etc, which is one of the fundamental rules of essay writing really - maintain a formal tone. Ridic. I used to be good at essay writing, so I must just be out of practice. I will no doubt finish it, but it will be tosh, which is a shame because I need as many firsts as possible, and I didn't get a particularly brilliant mark for the other assignment for this unit, which ironically was a feature... the thing I'm supposed to be good at.

But High Fedelity is on soon and I promised myself I could watch so I'll try and squeeze a few more words out and then settle down for that.

Angus and Julia were of course brilliant last night. Here's the review I wrote.

----
Angus and Julia Stone, Southampton Joiners

Another rather humid evening in Joiners, which is always the case when capacity reaches more than twenty, as the venue/sauna plays host to Angus and Julia Stone, a brother and sister from Australia.

The pair have steadily been rising to mild popularity, and tonight’s show is part of their biggest UK tour to date, including two sold out shows in London. Bringing with them drummer Mitchell Connelly and Clay Macdonald, who also double up as roadies, it’s a full band show rather than an acoustic set.

Joiners’ peculiar layout means the band have to make their way through the tightly packed crowd to get to the stage, which seems to terrify the life out of the petite Julia as she clings to the much larger and hairier Clay, who leads the band onto the stage.

Once safely on stage, the band look much happier. Angus, who generally keeps his head down or towards his sister during shows, seems to have conquered his fear of the audience and looks more than happy gazing out into the assembled mass, and even engages in a little banter from time to time.

The band’s set list showcases most of their first full length album, the recently released ‘A Book Like This’, as well as some favourite tracks from their earlier EPs, including ‘Private Lawn’ and ‘Chocolate and Cigarettes’, which is rarely given a live outing.

Angus and Julia are both multi-instrumentalists, playing harmonica, guitar, trumpet, piano and slide guitar between them onstage, moving easily from instrument to instrument. Mixed with their rich, syrup-sweet vocals, the Angus and Julia brand is strongly influenced by reggae, but maintains a foot-stomping beat through drums and bass, and chord sequences are played on piano with melodies picked out on guitar giving their music a more melodic and delicate feel.

Julia has a somewhat whimsical stage presence, almost childlike in the way she flits about onstage and twirls her dress around when dancing, oblivious to the rooms eyes on her. Her voice, however, is far more grown-up, her Australian accent almost hidden by vocal nuances taken from English’s folk singers – trills and ornaments and rolled r’s. Angus’s voice was almost more delicate than Julia’s, hitting notes most men can only dream of, but on occasion taking on a deeper, husky drawl.

The first encore was certainly an unexpected choice, but a hugely successful one. Combining Joy Division’s ‘Transmission’ with the Beach Boy’s ‘Barbara Ann’ may sound like a rather horrific idea, but in Angus and Julia’s hands (and their bassist, who reveals himself to be quite the baritone), the two worlds collide to make a capella with a difference.

The band return for their ‘proper’ encore, playing another four songs and ending in a triumphant flourish with ‘Paper Aeroplane’, Angus and Julia leave the stage to a huge amount of appreciative noise, and Julia certainly looks more comfortable wading through the crowd on her way back to the dressing rooms.

As the crowd disperses into the night air to cool off, the unpleasant conditions were certainly worth it to hear some of the most beautifully written, enchanting music around.

----

I was really please to see Angus managing to look out in the audience, as he certainly is a beautiful thing to look at. Almost Adonis like. I feel a girl may be behind his new found confidence. Sadly that girl is not me.

And so back to the essay. Only 1000 words and a lot of re-writing to go...

Local Elections...

Being the semi politically aware person that I am, I voted in yesterday's local elections. It was a bloody struggle though. My thinking went: well I'm not going to vote Labour or Tory, because let's face it Labour are doing a pretty bad job, and David Cameron is just too smug. But Basingstoke, unsurprisingly (home counties, fairly middle-class, lots of families) is quite the Tory stronghold, and has been for some time. So my only other option was Lib Dem. There were no other parties. But then I thought well what's the point? The Lib Dems are never going to get anywhere are they. But today when I checked the results I was in for quite the surpirse. Lib Dem are in fact in second place. They do have half as many seats than the Torys, who continue to reign supreme, but at least they've got a couple more than Labour. So my vote did seem to count for something.

As for the London mayor... wilst Boris Johnson is amusing, the thought of him running a jumble sale frightens me. Never mind the capital city for the next rather important 4 years.

Anyway... that was frightfully dull and far too socially aware. I'm going out for a curry with my dad later, and then onto a show by two lovely Australians, Angus and Julia Stone. I can't think of better company for a Friday night. But then what would you expect from a 60 year old trapped in a 21 year old's body?

Still haven't worked out a signing off. Although toodlepip is quite enjoyable. So toodlepip.

Self-indulgent, attention-seeking, therapy?

Like many other things I now frequently do (spending time with the parents, baking cakes, walking just for the sake of walking) I previously frowned upon blogging. I also frown upon words transformed from nouns to verbs. Like text and texting.

However recently the constant inner dialogue in my head has become a little too much to bare, so I felt it was time to release the beast. I am also currently super interested in zines and blogs, but lack of creativity and effort leaves me feeling a blog would be better rather than a full on zine. Although will a five month long holiday filled with nothing coming up, who knows.

And so tea and difficulties was born. I deliberated about deliberating long and hard about the title, and then realised I'm really just too impatient for deliberation, and thought tea and difficulties would do nicely. I think it hits the nail on the head pretty perfectly actually. I like tea (but not your regular tea. Peppermint, green, darjeeling, anything but regular) and I certainly have a lot of difficulties. So here we are.

Perhaps I shall become a huge internet hit. Or perhaps I shall slowly stop losing my mind. The latter would most definitely be preferable.

And also I've now idea how to 'sign off''. I feel the need to put something catchy at the end, do show I'm done. But what? I like 'salutations' but that's clearly a greeting rather than a farewell. A salute would work but that's more of a visual. I say 'laters' a lot but really it's not particularly eloquent. And ciao is just to pretentious. So for now entries will remain endless.