When I was a child, I thought about nuclear war a lot. I wore CND paraphernalia and hoped to grow up to be a hippy. When my dad mentioned that a CND demonstration was marching through Norwich, I begged to go along. We did. It was my first march of many. For my Dad it was a one off.
I was eight or nine back then. I did grow up to be a hippy. I spent my childhood stubbornly clutching flower-filled guns, with the strong belief that I, and not the majority, was right. I attended a very rural school and world politics existed in a very different paradigm. I saw no point in being liked for being someone that wasn't me. When the idiots told me that I should conform in the name of popularity, and not doing so equalled being stupid on my part, I was prepared to stand by my personality and my beliefs.
The young me would never have had the self-confidence to believe that I might end up with a Masters Degree in Environmental Policy and a job in academia researching adaptation to climate change. Stubbornness and self-confidence are not the same. The young me would never have believed that I would eventually secure a place to study for a doctorate in European Environmental Policy. The adult version of me didn’t either. I left it all behind to become a charity administrator. Is it a comfort to amount to the nothing that people expect of you? It took me seven years to rise up out of the position of being an 'all singing, all dancing' answer phone. It seemed that few people had any great confidence in me. Was it a rejection of the path that I found myself on, or did I bottle it? It was probably a bit of both.
My childhood fascination with nuclear destruction was long-lived, and in 1992, just before leaving for University, I collected excerpts from writings about the Hiroshima bombing. I didn’t maintain the book of excerpts for long, but mixed in with quotes about bands, nuclear war featured highly. Sometimes I managed to combine both.
Reading Watchmen reminded me of those quotes. It seems that my fascination with nuclear destruction is not dead. By searching Scroogle for the excerpts neatly copied by my own hand, I now find them repeated online. The same passages find themselves in later publications. The words resonate as much today as they did back then. It seems that I’m not the only person to think so. Entangled within the sprawling mass of World Wide Web, someone else has thought to upload them.
The internet is a thinkers dream. In 1992, in Norwich library, I could read just two paragraphs of Nicholas Humphrey’s ‘Four Minutes to Midnight’, as quoted in another book. In the comfort of my own home, I can now read 'The Bronowski Memorial Lecture (1981)' in full.
Below, I have copied the exact parts of the lecture included in my book of excerpts. Sixteen years ago, I handwrote these words:
“Nuclear weapons are not comprehensible: neither you nor I have any hope of understanding just what they are and what they do. In saying that, I mean to belittle none of us; it is almost a compliment. For I do not see how any human being whose intelligence and sensitivities have been shaped by traditional facts and values could possibly understand the nature of these unnatural, other-worldly weapons. So-called `facts' about the Bomb are not facts in the ordinary sense at all: they are not facts we can relate to, get our minds round. Mere numbers, words.
Let me repeat a fact. The Bomb which was dropped on Hiroshima killed 140,000 people. The uranium it contained weighed about twenty-five pounds; it would have packed into a cricket-ball. 140,000 people is about equal to the total population of Cambridge.
I, for one, cannot grasp that kind of fact. I cannot make the connection between a cricket-ball and the deaths of everyone who lives in Cambridge. I cannot picture the 140,000 bodies, let alone feel sympathy for each individual as they died.”
Here are some quotes that I didn’t read in 1992, but can now:
“The Bomb's first makers, the physicists who put it together in 1945, themselves treated their creation with almost mystical reverence. When Robert Oppenheimer witnessed the earliest test explosion in the New Mexico desert at Alamogordo, the words which came to him were from the holy book, the Bhagavad Gita:
If the radiance of a thousand suns
Were to burst at once into the sky
That would be like the splendour of the Mighty One .. .
I am become Death,
The shatterer of worlds.”
...
“When I was a child we had an old pet tortoise we called Ajax. One autumn Ajax, looking for a winter home, crawled unnoticed into the pile of wood and bracken my father was making for Guy Fawkes' Day. As days passed and more and more pieces of tinder were added to the pile, Ajax must have felt more and more secure; every day he was getting greater protection from the frost and rain. On 5 November bonfire and tortoise were reduced to ashes. Are there some of us who still believe that the piling up of weapon upon weapon adds to our security – that the dangers are nothing compared to the assurance they provide?”
...
“A County Inspector of Schools writes in a letter to The Times: `I have sat in on discussion lessons when children have brought up the question of the Bomb. Many have come to accept that they may not live out their lives in full . . . Some smile about it . . .’”
Perhaps, I wasn't the only child that thought about nuclear destruction. It was at the age of seven, in my final year of primary school, that I became transfixed by the concept of war, national insecurity and nuclear weapons. It was in 1979, the year that Margaret Thatcher became Prime Minister. 1979 was the year that I truly became aware of politics.
While Thatcher had stolen my ‘aged seven and above’ entitlement to milk the year before I was born, and would take it away from those older than five in 1980, I had little interest in national politics. It was the global that scared me. The fact that nuclear bombs existed, led me to conclude that there are as many stupid adults as there are children. It fascinated me that humankind could be so terrifyingly stupid.
As I watched playground fights, I realised that adults are just big children with more power and weaponry at their disposal. Adults are not the all-knowing, insightful beings that they wanted me to believe they were. They are no better than the seven year old me. Now I am adult, I probably have less insight into aspects of the world than some seven year olds do. I am fully aware of that. At seven, I found myself bereft of words that might articulate my thoughts. At thirty-six, I am a poor verbal communicator. I am often confused by grammar.
I believe that the words of others - as copied into my old quote book - are worth sharing. In this light, I will run a short series of posts from its dusty pages. Where possible, I will include links to places where the quotes exist in the online world today. For now, you can read the The Bronowski Memorial Lecture in full:
Nicholas Humphrey’s ‘Four Minutes to Midnight’
It says something about the way the world was in 1981. It says something about the world that I grew up in.
Fabpants Recommends: Seeing Bonde do Rolê live. They are charmingly fun, with one DJ/MC and three MCs. The MCs primarily shout and dance about with erratic glee. They are Brazilian band, with a New Zealander interloper. I have no idea what they shout about, but enthusiasm goes along way. Two of the MCs were recruited in February this year, following on a competition on Brazilian MTV. They may have been on television, but Ana Bernardino and Laura Taylor, still know how to conga. Yes, a Brazilian pop star, named Ana Bernardino, held my flesh. She also took a piece of meat out of her genitals to gain entry to the band. Should I be proud?
Thursday, 31 July 2008
Monday, 28 July 2008
Tales of the Black Freighter and The Cold War Vigilantes
“It is the oldest of ironies that are still the most satisfying: man, when preparing for bloody war, will orate loudly and most eloquently in the name of peace. This dichotomy is not an invention of the twentieth century, yet it is in this century that the most striking examples of the phenomena have appeared. Never before has man pursued global harmony more vocally while amassing stockpiles of weapons so devastating in their effect. The second world war – we were told – was The War To End Wars. The development of the atomic bomb is the Weapon to End Wars.
And yet wars continue. Currently, no nation on this planet is not involved in some form of armed struggle, if not against its neighbors then against internal forces. Furthermore, as ever escalating amounts of money are poured into the pursuit of the specific weapon or conflict that will bring everlasting peace, the drain on our economies creates a rundown urban landscape where crime flourishes and people are concerned less with national security than with the simple personal security needed to stop at the store late at night for a quart of milk without being mugged. The places we struggled so viciously to keep safe are becoming increasingly dangerous. The war to end all wars, the weapons to end wars, these things have failed us.”
The above is an excerpt from ‘Watchmen’ by Alan Moore, Dave Gibbons and John Higgins. ‘Graphic novel’ is an inadequate label for this fine book. Watchmen originally ran as a twelve part series in 1986 – 1987.
Mixing the graphic novel format with diary entries, psychiatric reports, and fictitiously published articles, the book is dense. I’m not surprised to learn that it’s being turned into a film. I feel as though I am watching a film as I read it.
I'm sharing the above excerpt with one third of the book left unread. Why? Because I just can’t wait to share and it will make the book last longer; I can’t read while I write.
At times, the main story, a tale of ‘mostly’ non-superhuman people that live the secret - or not so secret - lives of aged, or retired, and greatly endangered costumed vigilantes, runs concurrently to the tale of a marooned sailor.
Within the graphic novel, a boy reads a comic called 'Tales of the Black Freighter'. Interspersed and entangled with cells from the main story, the chosen seafaring tale adds weighty gravitas. ‘Marooned’ follows the plight of the sole survivor of a pirate attack. The mariner builds a raft from the bloated corpses of his dead shipmates in a desperate attempt to return home. Cleverly harmonised with the main tale, the narrative and imagery of ‘Marooned’ inherently entwines itself with the main events of the day.
Mariner: “I’d swallowed too much birdflesh. I’d swallowed too much horror.” News Vendor: “I mean, World War Three. It’s a nightmare. The only people who can even think about it are the arms companies.” One cell says so much.
The events of the day, while fictitious, remind me of my childhood: the ever-looming threat of nuclear holocaust, the Cold War, and Raymond Briggs’ ‘When the Wind Blows’.
The genius of the book is undisputable. It just gets better and better and I’m in no doubt that it will continue to shock, amaze and entertain. The talent involved in creating this novel is humbling. It inspires faith in the human race, whilst simultaneously highlighting what a bunch of fucked up fuckwits we really are. If only we were all as insightful, intelligent, artistic and blessed with the ability to convey our thoughts.
It’s taken me a very long time to discover Watchmen. I read ‘When the Window Blows’ when I was ten. I was ready for Watchmen before its creation.
Fabpants Recommends: Born Ruffians - Red Yellow & Blue. The Guardian review is wrong, but what does The Guardian know about music? It might not be the best or most inspiring album of the last millennia, but it does say, “Please listen to me again and again; I'm trying to tell you something.” If I ever find what the secret message is, I will let you know. Until then, I can reliably inform you that ‘Hummingbird’ is a great track.
And yet wars continue. Currently, no nation on this planet is not involved in some form of armed struggle, if not against its neighbors then against internal forces. Furthermore, as ever escalating amounts of money are poured into the pursuit of the specific weapon or conflict that will bring everlasting peace, the drain on our economies creates a rundown urban landscape where crime flourishes and people are concerned less with national security than with the simple personal security needed to stop at the store late at night for a quart of milk without being mugged. The places we struggled so viciously to keep safe are becoming increasingly dangerous. The war to end all wars, the weapons to end wars, these things have failed us.”
The above is an excerpt from ‘Watchmen’ by Alan Moore, Dave Gibbons and John Higgins. ‘Graphic novel’ is an inadequate label for this fine book. Watchmen originally ran as a twelve part series in 1986 – 1987.
Mixing the graphic novel format with diary entries, psychiatric reports, and fictitiously published articles, the book is dense. I’m not surprised to learn that it’s being turned into a film. I feel as though I am watching a film as I read it.
I'm sharing the above excerpt with one third of the book left unread. Why? Because I just can’t wait to share and it will make the book last longer; I can’t read while I write.
At times, the main story, a tale of ‘mostly’ non-superhuman people that live the secret - or not so secret - lives of aged, or retired, and greatly endangered costumed vigilantes, runs concurrently to the tale of a marooned sailor.
Within the graphic novel, a boy reads a comic called 'Tales of the Black Freighter'. Interspersed and entangled with cells from the main story, the chosen seafaring tale adds weighty gravitas. ‘Marooned’ follows the plight of the sole survivor of a pirate attack. The mariner builds a raft from the bloated corpses of his dead shipmates in a desperate attempt to return home. Cleverly harmonised with the main tale, the narrative and imagery of ‘Marooned’ inherently entwines itself with the main events of the day.
Mariner: “I’d swallowed too much birdflesh. I’d swallowed too much horror.” News Vendor: “I mean, World War Three. It’s a nightmare. The only people who can even think about it are the arms companies.” One cell says so much.
The events of the day, while fictitious, remind me of my childhood: the ever-looming threat of nuclear holocaust, the Cold War, and Raymond Briggs’ ‘When the Wind Blows’.
The genius of the book is undisputable. It just gets better and better and I’m in no doubt that it will continue to shock, amaze and entertain. The talent involved in creating this novel is humbling. It inspires faith in the human race, whilst simultaneously highlighting what a bunch of fucked up fuckwits we really are. If only we were all as insightful, intelligent, artistic and blessed with the ability to convey our thoughts.
It’s taken me a very long time to discover Watchmen. I read ‘When the Window Blows’ when I was ten. I was ready for Watchmen before its creation.
Fabpants Recommends: Born Ruffians - Red Yellow & Blue. The Guardian review is wrong, but what does The Guardian know about music? It might not be the best or most inspiring album of the last millennia, but it does say, “Please listen to me again and again; I'm trying to tell you something.” If I ever find what the secret message is, I will let you know. Until then, I can reliably inform you that ‘Hummingbird’ is a great track.
Thursday, 24 July 2008
Skinny Dipping
I swam in the sea with all my clothes on today. It was ace. It was during a staff day out, so I was also earning money. Beat that suckers!!! Kudos to the manager that joined me. She had all her clothes on too. Yes, I AM a very reserved and well-loved employee. Ahem.
Fabpants Recommends: Herb Alpert and The Tijuana Brass - Spanish Flea. This has been the most listened to track at Flat 1a for months now. Sometimes we listen to it on repeat. It makes us very happy. I order YOU to listen to it for your own good health:
Download MP3: Herb Alpert and The Tijuana Brass - Spanish Flea (courtesy of www.ieattapes.com)
It’s exquisite. I’m on my third listen in a row and I’m not sure if I can stop. It’s like MDMA in song form.
Fabpants Recommends: Herb Alpert and The Tijuana Brass - Spanish Flea. This has been the most listened to track at Flat 1a for months now. Sometimes we listen to it on repeat. It makes us very happy. I order YOU to listen to it for your own good health:
Download MP3: Herb Alpert and The Tijuana Brass - Spanish Flea (courtesy of www.ieattapes.com)
It’s exquisite. I’m on my third listen in a row and I’m not sure if I can stop. It’s like MDMA in song form.
Tuesday, 22 July 2008
Property of Google
This blog is the property of Google. Is it wrong for me to undermine Google whilst using their property to do so? No. Google is a soft, warm and trendy company, with fire-fighter poles for liaising, and igloos for thought sharing. They won’t mind at all. They’ll laugh and call me a cad, a bounder or a loveable tyrant. They love me. They list me as number one for so many search terms that it’s laughable. It’s not as though I haven’t criticised them before. I love it. I love the way that they promote their own blogs. They make the random thoughts of a collection of chatterboxes - from all over the world - number one.
Google is the Bertie Wooster of our times. In the finest scam of all, Bertie has stolen Jeeves’ brain. I know. For the last few months I’ve doggedly been asking Jeeves questions, but he finds it hard to keep up. ‘Ask Jeeves’ was born in 1996 and predates Google for sure, but older never means better. In 1998, Bertie fell out of a prostitute’s womb, stole Jeeves’ dictionary, thesaurus and encyclopaedias, and ran off into the night laughing. Bertie called himself Google and knew that it would be fun from the start.
Most remarkably, Bertie worked out how to present the knowledge in those books with such efficiency that he became Top Dog in the search engine turf wars. Poor Jeeves survives off crumbs in the gutters. Jeeves may have forgotten his last name, but bless him and his fine suits, he is firmly sticking to the ancient British principles of privacy. An Englishman’s home is his castle, and if he wants to run around in it naked, it’s nobody’s business but his own. ‘Ask’ has a privacy eraser to delete your search history from their servers. Good old Jeeves. Okay, he’s from California and not the Great Island of Britain, but with a name like Jeeves, there is no doubting his philosophical origins.
Unfortunately, if it’s not on the first page of Ask, I’m on Google before I’ve blinked. Fuck the privacy, I want those facts now.
Today, I made a discovery. It could solve all of my paranoid, delusional 'don't monitor me' issues and maintain my thirst for knowledge: Scroogle. What does Scroogle do? Well, it allows you to search Google whilst protecting your privacy. If that's not enough, it also drops the ads. It’s ace. By the way, I don’t really care about the privacy. I don’t look at kiddie porn. It’s just the principle of it all.
How to make Scroogle part of your internet toolbar:
In Internet Explorer 7:
Go to http://www.microsoft.com/windows/ie/searchguide/en-uk/default.mspx
In the Yellow box, type this in Step 3: http://www.scroogle.org/cgi-bin/nbbw.cgi?Gw=TEST
And this in Step 4: Scroogle.
Click on the little arrow next to your Internet Explorer search box, choose ‘Change Search Defaults’.
Highlight Scroogle and press Set Default. Press OK.
Now use this search box to find out 'where I saw the mouse' or something else less important.
"We are moving to a Google that knows more about you." CEO Eric Schmidt, speaking to financial analysts, February 9, 2005. That Google now exists.
Hate Internet Explorer? Well you could always just go to Scroogle directly. On the main page they have instructions for installing Scoogle in Opera. Opera allows you to access websites with out of date SSL certificates too. I needed to know that once.
Use Firefox? Well here are the: Scroogle Plugins
Please note, Scroogle is not pretty. It’s what’s inside that counts.
Fabpants Recommends: Clinic – Do it! The finest work that this Liverpudlian band has spawned since Evil Bill went mental in the high street. I like the way that Clinic are demonstrating a pleasantly edgy come down after so many years of fractured rage.
Google is the Bertie Wooster of our times. In the finest scam of all, Bertie has stolen Jeeves’ brain. I know. For the last few months I’ve doggedly been asking Jeeves questions, but he finds it hard to keep up. ‘Ask Jeeves’ was born in 1996 and predates Google for sure, but older never means better. In 1998, Bertie fell out of a prostitute’s womb, stole Jeeves’ dictionary, thesaurus and encyclopaedias, and ran off into the night laughing. Bertie called himself Google and knew that it would be fun from the start.
Most remarkably, Bertie worked out how to present the knowledge in those books with such efficiency that he became Top Dog in the search engine turf wars. Poor Jeeves survives off crumbs in the gutters. Jeeves may have forgotten his last name, but bless him and his fine suits, he is firmly sticking to the ancient British principles of privacy. An Englishman’s home is his castle, and if he wants to run around in it naked, it’s nobody’s business but his own. ‘Ask’ has a privacy eraser to delete your search history from their servers. Good old Jeeves. Okay, he’s from California and not the Great Island of Britain, but with a name like Jeeves, there is no doubting his philosophical origins.
Unfortunately, if it’s not on the first page of Ask, I’m on Google before I’ve blinked. Fuck the privacy, I want those facts now.
Today, I made a discovery. It could solve all of my paranoid, delusional 'don't monitor me' issues and maintain my thirst for knowledge: Scroogle. What does Scroogle do? Well, it allows you to search Google whilst protecting your privacy. If that's not enough, it also drops the ads. It’s ace. By the way, I don’t really care about the privacy. I don’t look at kiddie porn. It’s just the principle of it all.
How to make Scroogle part of your internet toolbar:
In Internet Explorer 7:
Go to http://www.microsoft.com/windows/ie/searchguide/en-uk/default.mspx
In the Yellow box, type this in Step 3: http://www.scroogle.org/cgi-bin/nbbw.cgi?Gw=TEST
And this in Step 4: Scroogle.
Click on the little arrow next to your Internet Explorer search box, choose ‘Change Search Defaults’.
Highlight Scroogle and press Set Default. Press OK.
Now use this search box to find out 'where I saw the mouse' or something else less important.
"We are moving to a Google that knows more about you." CEO Eric Schmidt, speaking to financial analysts, February 9, 2005. That Google now exists.
Hate Internet Explorer? Well you could always just go to Scroogle directly. On the main page they have instructions for installing Scoogle in Opera. Opera allows you to access websites with out of date SSL certificates too. I needed to know that once.
Use Firefox? Well here are the: Scroogle Plugins
Please note, Scroogle is not pretty. It’s what’s inside that counts.
Fabpants Recommends: Clinic – Do it! The finest work that this Liverpudlian band has spawned since Evil Bill went mental in the high street. I like the way that Clinic are demonstrating a pleasantly edgy come down after so many years of fractured rage.
Monday, 21 July 2008
Festival Review: Ignoring Friends at Festivals Since 1989
Back, bathed, and with the delicious scent of home cooked delicacies wafting from the kitchen. Latitude Festival was fantabulous. Yes, I have decided to add a new positive word to my lexicon. A gal like me needs them all. The more positive words combined into one the better. Holy fuck, I love this life.
Why is Latitude so great? Because the organisers went for a trip inside my mind and curated it just for me. At least, it feels that way.
Two years ago, I felt truly damned to have missed the first ever Latitude. For several months before the event, a broken record lived inside my head and sporadically issued sentences, such as ‘Why the fuck am I not going to the best new festival ever?’ I felt like I would regret it in the same way that I’ve always regretted not going to ‘All Tomorrows Parties’ in the year that Belle and Sebastian were the ringmasters of a Pontins paradise of live music .
Well, in 2007, I thought ‘Fuck it, if no one I know wants to go, I'll go alone’. It was time to stop all that 'feeling for sorry for myself' business. To be honest, I was the only person getting in my way. As for going it alone, I did the same for Reading 1989 and Glastonbury 1991. I had no excuse. Me, my tent, and I. I made new friends before changing wristbands both times. 19 years disappeared. When I blinked nothing much had changed. It seems that I can still make new friends before they realise their mistake, or I could in 2007.
This year, the fine year of 2008, I had a fine array of Latitude friends to ignore, from home and away. Yes, come along to a festival with me, and let me ignore you. It’s fabulous. You’ll be free, I’ll be free, and occasionally we’ll stand side by side grinning at something amazing; it might be a band, a comedian, a writer, a poet, an actor, a light show, a freak or someone we know. It’ll be great.
Who and what did I see this year...
Rating system (from very best to very worst):
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
(number) = number of songs seen when full set not seen (sometimes approximate)
Friday, 18th July
Followed by a Guilty Pleasures Disco, Stella Plumes (drag queen) and Bearlesque (hairy, chubby, beardy boys who performed burlesque striptease to pop tunes).
Saturday, 19th July
Sunday, 20th July
Fabpants Recommends: Listen to every artist above that is Ear Candy or Fucking Awesome. I loved seeing the young crop of anti-folk musicians in action, so here’s a couple of MP3s for you:
Slow Club – When I go (courtesy of www.acertainromance.com)
SoKo - I’ll Kill Her (courtesy of hotlinkfiles.com)
Why is Latitude so great? Because the organisers went for a trip inside my mind and curated it just for me. At least, it feels that way.
Two years ago, I felt truly damned to have missed the first ever Latitude. For several months before the event, a broken record lived inside my head and sporadically issued sentences, such as ‘Why the fuck am I not going to the best new festival ever?’ I felt like I would regret it in the same way that I’ve always regretted not going to ‘All Tomorrows Parties’ in the year that Belle and Sebastian were the ringmasters of a Pontins paradise of live music .
Well, in 2007, I thought ‘Fuck it, if no one I know wants to go, I'll go alone’. It was time to stop all that 'feeling for sorry for myself' business. To be honest, I was the only person getting in my way. As for going it alone, I did the same for Reading 1989 and Glastonbury 1991. I had no excuse. Me, my tent, and I. I made new friends before changing wristbands both times. 19 years disappeared. When I blinked nothing much had changed. It seems that I can still make new friends before they realise their mistake, or I could in 2007.
This year, the fine year of 2008, I had a fine array of Latitude friends to ignore, from home and away. Yes, come along to a festival with me, and let me ignore you. It’s fabulous. You’ll be free, I’ll be free, and occasionally we’ll stand side by side grinning at something amazing; it might be a band, a comedian, a writer, a poet, an actor, a light show, a freak or someone we know. It’ll be great.
Who and what did I see this year...
Rating system (from very best to very worst):
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
(number) = number of songs seen when full set not seen (sometimes approximate)
Friday, 18th July
| Robin Ince, Comedy | Ear Candy (US Foreign Policy is like the poem ‘There was an Old Woman who Swallowed a Fly’) |
| Adam Bloom, Comedy | Not for Me Thanks (well scripted and delivered, but lowest common denominator content) |
| Gravenhurst, Uncut | Thumbs Up |
| Slow Club, Sunrise | Fucking Awesome (Anti-Folk brilliance) |
| Animal Kingdom, Sunrise | Fucking Awesome (Sun soaked loveliness. No dark guys are following these guys) |
| The Aliens, Obelisk (3) | Ear Candy |
| Bearsuit, Lake | Fucking Awesome (For the costumes alone!) |
| aPAtT, Lake | Fucking Awesome |
| Jonquil, Lake | Thumbs Up |
| Emmy the Great, Sunrise | Ear Candy |
| Natty, Sunrise | Thumbs Up (Twice in two weeks gave me ‘pop’ overload. The screaming girls didn’t help) |
| Clinic, Sunrise | Ear Candy |
| Death Cab for Cutie, Obelisk | Not for Me Thanks (that Seattle sound seeps through) |
Franz Ferdinand, Obelisk | Ear Candy |
Saturday, 19th July
| Billy The Kid and The Brothers Barbaylios, Sunrise | Ear Candy |
| Golden Silvers, Uncut | Thumbs Up |
| White Lies, Obelisk | Fucking Awesome |
| Bill Bailey, Comedy | Thumbs Up (but could only see screen outside of tent so left half way through) |
| Fanfarlo, Obelisk | Ear Candy |
| I am Kloot, Obelisk (5) | Fucking Awesome (but clashed with SoKo) |
| SoKo, Sunrise | Fucking Awesome (I laughed until I cried tears, quite literally) |
| Punch Brothers, Sunrise | Not for Me Thanks |
| Voluntary Butler Scheme, Lake (1) | I wished I watched these; bad call. I only caught one song and it sounded great. |
| The House of Love, Uncut (5) | Thumbs Up (but appalling sound) |
| This City, Lake | Thumbs Up (fantastic audience interaction) |
| Johnny Flynn, Sunrise | Thumbs Up (brilliant final track: Tickle Me Pink) |
| Cheeky Cheeky and the Nosebleeds, Lake | Thumbs Up (fucking awesome audience: kids as young as ten were crowd surfing) |
| Sigur Ros, Obelisk | Fucking Awesome |
| Darren Hayman, Literary (1) | Fucking Awesome (apparently he played two songs in the Book Club; I caught the second) |
| Club de Fromage DJs, The Woods | Intermission of air guitar mayhem on The Woods. |
| The Buzzcocks, Film and Music | Thumbs Up (mainly for the three hits: What Do I Get?, Love You More and Ever Fallen in Love. The rest was a bit dull, but they really put the effort in, so that’s just me.) |
| Director Gurinder Chadha with Alan Davies, Film and Music | Ear Candy (amusing interview with film clips) |
| Sam Isaac | Ear Candy |
| We Dream America, Film and Music | The Broken Family Band say they’ve dropped their fake American accents. They can’t work out why a blogger - who saw them more recently - criticised them for still faking it. I hope they don’t read what I said about them at Latitude last year. |
| The School, Lake | Ear Candy |
| Those Dancing Days, Uncut (2) | Not for Me Thanks |
| Noah and the Whale, Uncut | Fucking Awesome |
| Luke Leighfield & Tim and Sam's Tim and the Sam Band, Lake | Ear Candy |
| Esser, Sunrise | Thumbs Up |
| Patrick Watson, Uncut (2) | Not for Me Thanks (bit wanky) |
| The Breeders, Obelisk | Hideously Awful (I had to walk away. I so wanted to love the Deal sisters. I felt embarrassed for them, but they looked like they were having fun.) |
| The Cock ‘n’ Bull Kid, Lake (2) | Thumbs Up (but not as good as I anticipated) |
| Lykke Li, Sunrise | Fucking Awesome (for her amazing stage presence) |
| Grinderman, Obelisk (6) | Fucking Awesome (better than expected) |
| Interpol, Obelisk | Fucking Awesome (but I occasionally wished the punch was harder. This is the band I’ve been looking forward to seeing the most all year. I wanted my insides to be wrenched out, trampled on, and to watch my body being mutilated in an ecstatic trance. Perhaps I should have got closer!) |
| Dickie Beau, Film and Music | Fucking Awesome (you can check out a rough and ready recording on YouTube, or just check out these clips from Judy Garland’s tapes courtesy of www.fiveoclockbot.com: Obvious Nazi Machine and Get the Hell out of My Life) |
| Death Ray Trebuchey, Film and Music (4) | Ear Candy (late night get your knees up gypsy punk) |
| The Broken Hearts, Film and Music | Great 50s music DJing |
| Lautrec vs Sonver (Soundtracking 2001 Space Odyssey), Film and Music | Fucking Awesome |
Slow Club – When I go (courtesy of www.acertainromance.com)
SoKo - I’ll Kill Her (courtesy of hotlinkfiles.com)
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
Gig Review: Winning Without Battles
Drenched in the sweat of a rabble of 18-year-old boys, I experienced the perfect high. No combination of substances, illicit or legal, can compete. My body and soul ransacked of everything bad, embraced the testosterone-laced enthusiasm, and found its own centre of gravity. Smiling from ear to ear, in the heart of the moshpit, I found nirvana. Thank you Battles for your crazy dissonant Math rock. That was the perfect gig. Perfect gigs equal perfect highs. I will go to bed with very happy thoughts.
Fabpants Recommends: aPAtT. Seriously, listen to every track on their MySpace and go joyously mental.
aPAtT on MySpace
aPAtT cannot be judged by one tune alone.
Fabpants Recommends: aPAtT. Seriously, listen to every track on their MySpace and go joyously mental.
aPAtT on MySpace
aPAtT cannot be judged by one tune alone.
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
Festival Review: I Saw Cows, Blue Skies and Beautiful People
I feel like ‘The Black Kids’ are stalking me. Many moons ago, way back in February, a pal suggested that we go to a few gigs together. I agreed to see every band that he suggested. It seemed like a great plan to me. One of the bands we bought tickets for wasn’t even playing in Brighton for four months. Yes, The Black Kids caught my friend’s attention early; he’s so cool. We bought tickets number 1 and 2 for what would become a sold out gig.
‘The Wizard of Ahhhs’ EP impressed me so much that I went to see The Black Kids at Glastonbury, knowing that I had tickets to see them again in two days time. My description of their Glastonbury set was ‘amazing at times and ropey at others’. I so wanted to love them. Even I had to admit that they were shockingly poor at times.
Last Thursday, a second viewing of The Black Kids confirmed my doubts. I decided that The Black Kids are far better recorded than live. After some deliberation, I decided not to see The Black Kids at 'Lounge on the Farm' festival. Still, The Cow Shed stage ran behind schedule all weekend, and I caught their last song. It sounded amazing, but had their whole set? Did I miss an amazing performance, or was it just like the other two? Amazing moments wrapped in shit?
I am going to Latitude Festival this weekend, I decided to revisit the line up this morning. I bet you can guess who's playing yet again. Yes, The Black Kids are giving me a fourth chance to see them in so many weeks. Who’s stalking who?
The Latitude Festival line-up, with times, is shown here:
Latitude Festival 2008, Clash Finder
Anyway, back to last weekend. Lounge on the Farm was brilliant. It’s like the best village fete ever. With a high percentage of teenagers present, but not your Reading ‘we’re trying so hard to be cool’ dimwits, there was a fantastic atmosphere. 'The School of Rock' stage gave young musicians a chance to try their hand at festival performances. The old folk had real chairs and hay bales to lounge on, and the toddlers had a ‘paint your own t-shirt’ tent to ‘get creative’ in. It was small and special.
Below you can see a list of the bands that I lounged about to (okay, there was some Fabpants style jumping and dancing too):
Rating system (from very best to very worst):
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
Friday, 11th July 2008
Saturday, 12th July 2008
Sunday, 13th July 2008
While I had a brilliant Lounge on the Farm, I will be sending a complaint to the organisers. From 7.30am on Monday morning, aggressive stewards visited every tent on site. The forceful message was to get up, get packing and be off-site by nine. The stewards removed pegs from my friend’s tent when he refused to ‘show them his face’ and prove to them that he was getting up. I dread to think how many people they forced into drink driving. That’s no way to end a lovely festival. I have never experienced the like of it before. My first festival was in 1989, and I go to several each year, so that’s saying something!
Fabpants Recommends: Natty ‘July’. Listen to this track on every day of July. You deserve it. We all deserve it. It’s very lovely. You can listen to it here: Natty - July.
‘The Wizard of Ahhhs’ EP impressed me so much that I went to see The Black Kids at Glastonbury, knowing that I had tickets to see them again in two days time. My description of their Glastonbury set was ‘amazing at times and ropey at others’. I so wanted to love them. Even I had to admit that they were shockingly poor at times.
Last Thursday, a second viewing of The Black Kids confirmed my doubts. I decided that The Black Kids are far better recorded than live. After some deliberation, I decided not to see The Black Kids at 'Lounge on the Farm' festival. Still, The Cow Shed stage ran behind schedule all weekend, and I caught their last song. It sounded amazing, but had their whole set? Did I miss an amazing performance, or was it just like the other two? Amazing moments wrapped in shit?
I am going to Latitude Festival this weekend, I decided to revisit the line up this morning. I bet you can guess who's playing yet again. Yes, The Black Kids are giving me a fourth chance to see them in so many weeks. Who’s stalking who?
The Latitude Festival line-up, with times, is shown here:
Latitude Festival 2008, Clash Finder
Anyway, back to last weekend. Lounge on the Farm was brilliant. It’s like the best village fete ever. With a high percentage of teenagers present, but not your Reading ‘we’re trying so hard to be cool’ dimwits, there was a fantastic atmosphere. 'The School of Rock' stage gave young musicians a chance to try their hand at festival performances. The old folk had real chairs and hay bales to lounge on, and the toddlers had a ‘paint your own t-shirt’ tent to ‘get creative’ in. It was small and special.
Below you can see a list of the bands that I lounged about to (okay, there was some Fabpants style jumping and dancing too):
Rating system (from very best to very worst):
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
Friday, 11th July 2008
| Amanes, Furthur | Thumbs Up |
| Lucy Kitt, Farm Folk | Thumbs Up |
| The Lovedays, Sheep Dip | Not for Me Thanks |
| Wobbly Squadron, Furthur | Ear Candy |
| J* Star and MC Honeybrown | Ear Candy |
| Polka Party, Cowshed | Not for Me Thanks |
| Lightspeed Champion, Folly | Ear Candy (covers performed badly, but very personably) |
| Lightspeed Champion, Cowshed | Thumbs Up (a bit ropey) |
| Art Brut, Cowshed | Fucking Awesome (Art Brut may be the best live act ever) |
| Holy Fuck, Cowshed | Fucking Awesome (Holy Fuck!) |
Saturday, 12th July 2008
| Bohemia Ukele Band, Folly | Ear Candy (very jolly covers) |
| Raphael Mead, Farm Folk | Not for Me Thanks (a bit dad rock) |
| Bonobo, Furthur | Thumbs Up |
| Mr Lovebucket, Furthur | Not for Me Thanks |
| Sonny J, Cowshed | Hideously Awful (cheese overload, half a song walk out!) |
| Los Campesinos, Sheep Dip | Ear Candy |
| Mike Strutter, Sheep Dip | Thumbs Up (moshpit mania) |
| Armitage Shanks, Sheep Dip | Not for Me Thanks (one song walkout) |
| Cats in Paris, Furthur | Ear Candy (experimental brilliance) |
| Kitty, Daisy and Lewis, Farm Folk | Ear Candy |
Sunday, 13th July 2008
| Emily and the Beast, Farm Folk | Not for Me Thanks (but nice to hear Gloomy Sunday) |
| Nick Wilson, Folly | Thumbs Up |
| Ukele Gansters, Sheep Dip | Thumbs Up (hilarious outfits and facial expressions) |
| Hotrods and Dragsters, Sheep Dip | Thumbs Up |
| Natty, Cow Shed | Fucking Awesome |
| The Shortwave Set | Ear Candy |
| The Bees | Ear Candy |
| The Coral | Ear Candy (fucking awesome for two thirds of the set!) |
| Lupen Crook | Thumbs Up |
While I had a brilliant Lounge on the Farm, I will be sending a complaint to the organisers. From 7.30am on Monday morning, aggressive stewards visited every tent on site. The forceful message was to get up, get packing and be off-site by nine. The stewards removed pegs from my friend’s tent when he refused to ‘show them his face’ and prove to them that he was getting up. I dread to think how many people they forced into drink driving. That’s no way to end a lovely festival. I have never experienced the like of it before. My first festival was in 1989, and I go to several each year, so that’s saying something!
Fabpants Recommends: Natty ‘July’. Listen to this track on every day of July. You deserve it. We all deserve it. It’s very lovely. You can listen to it here: Natty - July.
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
A Snapshot of My Life
At work today, I asked a man when he had last had a proper conversation with someone. Not functional dialogue, such as that necessitated by grocery purchasing. Apart from speaking to me a few weeks ago, he hadn’t had a proper conversation since June 2007. He was articulate, intelligent, witty and well dressed.
After work, I met up with a friend in England on business. He’s Australian. He was my boss for three years in the 1990s, and is a very dear pal. As we walked through town, we stumbled across a happening at Resident Records. ‘Sons of Noel and Adrian’ were playing an instore gig. The shop was crowded and it was hard to count the number of people in the band. I thought I spotted ten. So many musicians, in such a small space, amounted to a tremendously atmospheric sound. It was intense. I felt like I was living in the film High Fidelity, but fortunately without Jack Black. Music nerds surrounded me and it was rather lovely.
It’s been a long and rainy day. I love talking to my Australian friend. He is genuinely interested in ever-evolving story of Emily, and never loses his passionate interest in life and all its forms. My evening was full of great conversation and I'm a very lucky girl.
Fabpants Recommends: Jane Vain and the Dark Matter ‘Love Is Where the Smoke Is’. This album is a belter of wonderment. It’s deep, dark and smoky. I never thought that bleeps could sound so indie without the pop. It’s certainly not pop and it’s most definitely indie. Tortured souls disband and take over. Will it grate with time? Only time can tell. It might and then again it might not. It's one of those. Certain songs will grow and grow.
After work, I met up with a friend in England on business. He’s Australian. He was my boss for three years in the 1990s, and is a very dear pal. As we walked through town, we stumbled across a happening at Resident Records. ‘Sons of Noel and Adrian’ were playing an instore gig. The shop was crowded and it was hard to count the number of people in the band. I thought I spotted ten. So many musicians, in such a small space, amounted to a tremendously atmospheric sound. It was intense. I felt like I was living in the film High Fidelity, but fortunately without Jack Black. Music nerds surrounded me and it was rather lovely.
It’s been a long and rainy day. I love talking to my Australian friend. He is genuinely interested in ever-evolving story of Emily, and never loses his passionate interest in life and all its forms. My evening was full of great conversation and I'm a very lucky girl.
Fabpants Recommends: Jane Vain and the Dark Matter ‘Love Is Where the Smoke Is’. This album is a belter of wonderment. It’s deep, dark and smoky. I never thought that bleeps could sound so indie without the pop. It’s certainly not pop and it’s most definitely indie. Tortured souls disband and take over. Will it grate with time? Only time can tell. It might and then again it might not. It's one of those. Certain songs will grow and grow.
Monday, 7 July 2008
Downloading Music with Davo
Recently, British Music Rights, with the help of the University Of Hertfordshire, surveyed 773 fourteen to twenty-four year olds. They wanted to find out more about young people’s music experiences and that’s exactly what they did.
You can see the full survey here:
Music Experience and Behaviour in Young People, Spring 2008
What shocked me (in a pleasant way) is that 96 percent of the respondents admitted to downloading music illegally. On average, they had ‘stolen’ 842 tracks each. That’s about 80 albums per head. Fantastic or what?! Nearly two-thirds of them had downloaded their music using unlicensed peer-to-peer file sharing, on average downloading 53 tracks a month. Some of them claimed to copy up to 5,000 tracks a month. That’s a hell of a lot of music.
Copying hard drives between friends is in. Cool, eh? Half of them say that they’ve done it. I probably had about 200 tapes and 400 illegally copied albums when I fell into that age bracket. I had good friends too. Nothing much has changed. Or has it?
Well, people love music. That hasn’t changed. So, what has downloading music done for us?
Personally, I can’t praise it highly enough. MP3s and file sharing are the products of pure genius.
These amazing advances in technology have allowed us to discover music that hasn’t been played on the radio, advertised on billboards or recorded by a friend. MySpace? Even that didn’t exist until 2003. MP3s and file sharing came first and MySpace probably wouldn’t exist without these inventions. Downloading music has enabled us to become more independent in our tastes. We can browse the MP3 collections of an entire world full of strangers. We can steal every track that they choose to share and we can listen to great music from all over the planet.
People, that don’t have a mass of ‘good taste’ friends to steal music from, can maintain an interest in new music without the fear of buying toss. We ALL get the opportunity to hear more music and buy less ‘straight to the charity shop’ dross. It’s all good, so very, very good. It’s not John Peel good, but it comes close. If the music industry makes a bad decision about what music to release, and then hypes it up to get a good return, we can all flick the v’s and ‘shout up your bum’. Our CD collections can remain untainted, a towering mass of only the best music on offer.
Before you start worrying about ‘record sales’, hear ye this: those involved with the British Music Rights survey, on average, owned 100 CDs each. Not bad, eh? Not bad at all. Whatever the suits say, the youth of today is loaded and stacks of money gets spent on music. The music industry is a moaning bitch. Even if a legal file-sharing service existed, over 60 percent of the blaggers and non-blaggers alike said that they would continue to buy CDs. See? People want music that they can hold after all.
Young people know the value of letting people hear music for free; didn’t they always? Now more than one third of them upload their own music (music that they have created!) to social networking sites. They don’t have to rely on badly recorded cassette tapes, DJs or investment. One day someone might hear their music online, go to see them live, buy a ‘home burnt’ CD and start a trend. It worked for ‘Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’ and ‘The Arctic Monkeys’, so why not for them? Download for free and give for free. It’s a free world, baby.
Fuck the BPI and Virgin Media and their 800 ‘warning’ letters. Yes, the BPI is sending out letters AGAIN. The BPI are greedy bastards, and Virgin Media is setting a bad example to other ISPs. People are voting with their feet. Up and coming bands and consumers alike want music to be available for nada. It allows the individual to decide on which artists to invest in. If the industry wasn’t so short sighted, it would see that when people have access to vast amounts of good free music, they want to see more live acts, buy more merchandise and, ultimately, buy more of their favourite albums in hard form.
I was chuffed to learn that sixty percent of all music expenditure is going towards the live experience. This is fantastic news for bands. When you spend money on live music, the artists get a much bigger cut of the profits. Buy a CD from a store and the artist will see barely a penny.
The live music and festival scene has never been stronger. Now there are so many festivals and gigs to choose from, it’s almost impossible to decide on which ones to attend. People are getting to hear the music that they like, it excites them and they want to see and hear it performed before their very ears and eyes. Bands get to travel the world to amazing places and get paid for it. The music business is healthier than ever. Don’t listen to what the industry moguls say. Get downloading and get out there to see live bands. While you’re there, buy a t-shirt and a CD. I get most of my albums at gigs these days. It’s by far the best way. Always make sure that the bands you like get some of your money and everything will be okay.
Fabpants Recommends: Mumford and Sons - Lovelorn British-made Americana to soak your soul in. Download their EP a computer near you and then buy it. Or don’t; the choice is yours
Alteratively, enter this address: http://www.myspace.com/mumfordandsons into the url box on this site: File2HD.com, tick ‘audio' and 'I have read and agree to the Terms of Service’ and press ‘get files’. You have just learnt how to download any song on a band's MySpace page for free and how to get the high quality versions at that.
You can see the full survey here:
Music Experience and Behaviour in Young People, Spring 2008
What shocked me (in a pleasant way) is that 96 percent of the respondents admitted to downloading music illegally. On average, they had ‘stolen’ 842 tracks each. That’s about 80 albums per head. Fantastic or what?! Nearly two-thirds of them had downloaded their music using unlicensed peer-to-peer file sharing, on average downloading 53 tracks a month. Some of them claimed to copy up to 5,000 tracks a month. That’s a hell of a lot of music.
Copying hard drives between friends is in. Cool, eh? Half of them say that they’ve done it. I probably had about 200 tapes and 400 illegally copied albums when I fell into that age bracket. I had good friends too. Nothing much has changed. Or has it?
Well, people love music. That hasn’t changed. So, what has downloading music done for us?
Personally, I can’t praise it highly enough. MP3s and file sharing are the products of pure genius.
These amazing advances in technology have allowed us to discover music that hasn’t been played on the radio, advertised on billboards or recorded by a friend. MySpace? Even that didn’t exist until 2003. MP3s and file sharing came first and MySpace probably wouldn’t exist without these inventions. Downloading music has enabled us to become more independent in our tastes. We can browse the MP3 collections of an entire world full of strangers. We can steal every track that they choose to share and we can listen to great music from all over the planet.
People, that don’t have a mass of ‘good taste’ friends to steal music from, can maintain an interest in new music without the fear of buying toss. We ALL get the opportunity to hear more music and buy less ‘straight to the charity shop’ dross. It’s all good, so very, very good. It’s not John Peel good, but it comes close. If the music industry makes a bad decision about what music to release, and then hypes it up to get a good return, we can all flick the v’s and ‘shout up your bum’. Our CD collections can remain untainted, a towering mass of only the best music on offer.
Before you start worrying about ‘record sales’, hear ye this: those involved with the British Music Rights survey, on average, owned 100 CDs each. Not bad, eh? Not bad at all. Whatever the suits say, the youth of today is loaded and stacks of money gets spent on music. The music industry is a moaning bitch. Even if a legal file-sharing service existed, over 60 percent of the blaggers and non-blaggers alike said that they would continue to buy CDs. See? People want music that they can hold after all.
Young people know the value of letting people hear music for free; didn’t they always? Now more than one third of them upload their own music (music that they have created!) to social networking sites. They don’t have to rely on badly recorded cassette tapes, DJs or investment. One day someone might hear their music online, go to see them live, buy a ‘home burnt’ CD and start a trend. It worked for ‘Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’ and ‘The Arctic Monkeys’, so why not for them? Download for free and give for free. It’s a free world, baby.
Fuck the BPI and Virgin Media and their 800 ‘warning’ letters. Yes, the BPI is sending out letters AGAIN. The BPI are greedy bastards, and Virgin Media is setting a bad example to other ISPs. People are voting with their feet. Up and coming bands and consumers alike want music to be available for nada. It allows the individual to decide on which artists to invest in. If the industry wasn’t so short sighted, it would see that when people have access to vast amounts of good free music, they want to see more live acts, buy more merchandise and, ultimately, buy more of their favourite albums in hard form.
I was chuffed to learn that sixty percent of all music expenditure is going towards the live experience. This is fantastic news for bands. When you spend money on live music, the artists get a much bigger cut of the profits. Buy a CD from a store and the artist will see barely a penny.
The live music and festival scene has never been stronger. Now there are so many festivals and gigs to choose from, it’s almost impossible to decide on which ones to attend. People are getting to hear the music that they like, it excites them and they want to see and hear it performed before their very ears and eyes. Bands get to travel the world to amazing places and get paid for it. The music business is healthier than ever. Don’t listen to what the industry moguls say. Get downloading and get out there to see live bands. While you’re there, buy a t-shirt and a CD. I get most of my albums at gigs these days. It’s by far the best way. Always make sure that the bands you like get some of your money and everything will be okay.
Fabpants Recommends: Mumford and Sons - Lovelorn British-made Americana to soak your soul in. Download their EP a computer near you and then buy it. Or don’t; the choice is yours
Alteratively, enter this address: http://www.myspace.com/mumfordandsons into the url box on this site: File2HD.com, tick ‘audio' and 'I have read and agree to the Terms of Service’ and press ‘get files’. You have just learnt how to download any song on a band's MySpace page for free and how to get the high quality versions at that.
Saturday, 5 July 2008
Carry on Tittering
Last Tuesday, I sent an email to everyone where I work. It generated a lot of replies and phone calls. The masses were amused. One person completely forgot what work based matter they had rung the office for; they repeated parts of the email back to me. In light of the fact that I rarely generate mass tittering, I thought that I’d share the email with anyone that reads this pathetic excuse for an online diary... It’s probably not funny outside a work context, so imagine that you received it from someone in your office. Better still, imagine that it’s funny. Go on, just for me.
“Hello all
This is going to sound like a bit of a moan, but I'm British so it's okay. I positively encourage you all to do the same occasionally. Live up to a stereotype or two when it suits. Today it suits me to moan, but hopefully in a bright and cheery manner.
For a short period of recent history my home mobile number went out on the staff contact list. This was a little accident, probably due to inadequate handover notes being written by the last Administrator. I forget her name, but she was awful. Yes, she looked like me and rode the same bike, but I hope the similarities end there. She was the carbon dioxide to the new Administrator’s oxygen.
Anyway, please forget that you ever saw that 11 digit number.
Unless you need to contact me about groovy parties, to extend the arm of friendship or to let me know that a meeting that I'm travelling to has been cancelled, please don't call it. It's a bit disappointing to run naked from the showers at the gym, throw the contents of one's bag across the room, and then discover that it's a call about work and not even an emergency one at that. Naked person, that's left a long trail of water across the room, feels a bit silly then.
I know that's far too much information, but hopefully it will mean that you remember: Emily's mobile is not for work!
Happy July to you all,
Emily”
Fabpants Recommends: I am eagerly waiting Takka Takka’s second album ‘Migration’. It might be good. In the meantime, they have MP3s available to download via the interweb, and you don’t have to pay a penny.
Download MP3: Everybody Say, 2008 (courtesy of aolradio.podcast.aol.com)
Download MP3: The Takers, 2008 (courtesy of takkatakkamusic.com)
Download MP3: Silence, 2008 (courtesy of rcrdlbl.com)
Download MP3: Draw a Map, 2007 (courtesy of takkatakkamusic.com)
Download MP3: We Feel Safer at Night, 2006 (courtesy of takkatakkamusic.com)
Download MP3: Joshua and Prof. Falkner, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
Download MP3: Fall Apart Art, 2006 (courtesy of freeindie.com)
Download MP3: They Built You Up Too Fast, 2006 (courtesy of freeindie.com)
Download MP3: I Take My Drinks Like Jackson, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
Download MP3: Strangers Pillow, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
Download MP3: Enough, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
Download MP3: Pleasure Phone Call From the Moon, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
That’s a lot of free legal music, as sourced by me. Enjoy!
“Hello all
This is going to sound like a bit of a moan, but I'm British so it's okay. I positively encourage you all to do the same occasionally. Live up to a stereotype or two when it suits. Today it suits me to moan, but hopefully in a bright and cheery manner.
For a short period of recent history my home mobile number went out on the staff contact list. This was a little accident, probably due to inadequate handover notes being written by the last Administrator. I forget her name, but she was awful. Yes, she looked like me and rode the same bike, but I hope the similarities end there. She was the carbon dioxide to the new Administrator’s oxygen.
Anyway, please forget that you ever saw that 11 digit number.
Unless you need to contact me about groovy parties, to extend the arm of friendship or to let me know that a meeting that I'm travelling to has been cancelled, please don't call it. It's a bit disappointing to run naked from the showers at the gym, throw the contents of one's bag across the room, and then discover that it's a call about work and not even an emergency one at that. Naked person, that's left a long trail of water across the room, feels a bit silly then.
I know that's far too much information, but hopefully it will mean that you remember: Emily's mobile is not for work!
Happy July to you all,
Emily”
Fabpants Recommends: I am eagerly waiting Takka Takka’s second album ‘Migration’. It might be good. In the meantime, they have MP3s available to download via the interweb, and you don’t have to pay a penny.
Download MP3: Everybody Say, 2008 (courtesy of aolradio.podcast.aol.com)
Download MP3: The Takers, 2008 (courtesy of takkatakkamusic.com)
Download MP3: Silence, 2008 (courtesy of rcrdlbl.com)
Download MP3: Draw a Map, 2007 (courtesy of takkatakkamusic.com)
Download MP3: We Feel Safer at Night, 2006 (courtesy of takkatakkamusic.com)
Download MP3: Joshua and Prof. Falkner, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
Download MP3: Fall Apart Art, 2006 (courtesy of freeindie.com)
Download MP3: They Built You Up Too Fast, 2006 (courtesy of freeindie.com)
Download MP3: I Take My Drinks Like Jackson, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
Download MP3: Strangers Pillow, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
Download MP3: Enough, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
Download MP3: Pleasure Phone Call From the Moon, 2006 (courtesy of www.freeindie.com)
That’s a lot of free legal music, as sourced by me. Enjoy!
Thursday, 3 July 2008
I Hate Racism
Life looks like a film when you see the word PAKI etched into the bonnet of an inconspicuous car. When I first saw it, I experienced complete miscomprehension. My eyes could not accept the sight before them. I looked down, put the key into my bike lock, and looked again. I repeated the motion three times. I have three bike locks. I stared. Was it real? The horrible fact - that someone had scratched PAKI into the paintwork of a car - was so far away from my usual realm of reality, that complete befuddlement had stopped my brain.
Each letter, as large as an A4 page, screamed out at me with evilly etched malice.
Breaking the spell, the car was claimed. A collection of unsorted syllables fought against each other for immediate release.
“It’s terrible what someone’s done to your car”, I inarticulately blurted. It seems that I'm a considerate, but somewhat simple, soul.
“There are terrible people in this world”, came the reply. The owner of the vandalised vehicle sounded philosophical. He wasn’t angry, that’s just the way it is. There are terrible people in this world.
“I’m sorry”, I added. “I am really sorry.”
I felt as though I had to apologise. I hated the idea of him leaving without someone saying that they were sorry. I think that I was apologising for every racist endeavour of humankind. I felt guilty. I felt sorry for being part of such a malevolent species; a species so ignorant that it doesn’t learn. There is no need. There is just no need.
As he drove away, I waved. He waved back. His wave belittled the word PAKI. It was animated and the word was not. He’s an on-call doctor; he was parked in a doctor’s spot. Driving is part of his job.
He seemed okay with it. Shit happens. He had more important matters on his mind. He’s probably experienced covert racism more times than he would care to count. Overt racism may be a common experience too.
The level of shock that I experienced says more about me. It speaks volumes about my idealistic lack of realism, my ignorance and my inability to comprehend that people are so stupidly and crassly abusive with only ill-founded reasons to back their mean-spirited thoughts and actions.
Fabpants Recommends: Not being a racist.
There is also the matter of Gogol Bordello's 'Wanderlust King'. Find it on the album 'Super Taranta!' and on that place called MySomethingorother. Wanderlust King makes me forget about all evil in this world and bounce up and down instead. Yes, at many levels, I really am a simple soul. I like music. I hate racism.
Each letter, as large as an A4 page, screamed out at me with evilly etched malice.
Breaking the spell, the car was claimed. A collection of unsorted syllables fought against each other for immediate release.
“It’s terrible what someone’s done to your car”, I inarticulately blurted. It seems that I'm a considerate, but somewhat simple, soul.
“There are terrible people in this world”, came the reply. The owner of the vandalised vehicle sounded philosophical. He wasn’t angry, that’s just the way it is. There are terrible people in this world.
“I’m sorry”, I added. “I am really sorry.”
I felt as though I had to apologise. I hated the idea of him leaving without someone saying that they were sorry. I think that I was apologising for every racist endeavour of humankind. I felt guilty. I felt sorry for being part of such a malevolent species; a species so ignorant that it doesn’t learn. There is no need. There is just no need.
As he drove away, I waved. He waved back. His wave belittled the word PAKI. It was animated and the word was not. He’s an on-call doctor; he was parked in a doctor’s spot. Driving is part of his job.
He seemed okay with it. Shit happens. He had more important matters on his mind. He’s probably experienced covert racism more times than he would care to count. Overt racism may be a common experience too.
The level of shock that I experienced says more about me. It speaks volumes about my idealistic lack of realism, my ignorance and my inability to comprehend that people are so stupidly and crassly abusive with only ill-founded reasons to back their mean-spirited thoughts and actions.
Fabpants Recommends: Not being a racist.
There is also the matter of Gogol Bordello's 'Wanderlust King'. Find it on the album 'Super Taranta!' and on that place called MySomethingorother. Wanderlust King makes me forget about all evil in this world and bounce up and down instead. Yes, at many levels, I really am a simple soul. I like music. I hate racism.
Tuesday, 1 July 2008
Festival Review: Glastonbury 2008: As Shown in a Living Room Near You
Courtesy of the BBC Online Broadcasting Service, I’ve been watching The Glastonbury Festival of Contemporary Performing Arts on television, via my PC.
BBC Glastonbury Mini Site
The last time I watched Glastonbury on television was very late at night. Bill Odie was hanging out with hippies, interviewing random people and pretending to be mates with The Hothouse Flowers. In the presence of a campfire, frightful songs were performed and, barely awake, I wished that ‘Body’ had better taste. It was a very long time ago. It was in 1989. I still lived in Norfolk and although my sights had been on Glastonbury for many years, I had yet to go.
For those of you that haven’t twigged, Glastonbury is in term-time. In 1991, I finally had no school or exam clashes. I bought a ticket and, without knowing anyone else that was going, I knew that I had made one of the best decisions of my life. I’ve been to every non-cow grazing year since.
I fell in love with festivals when I was 10. My parents stole me from a hideous Girl Guide camp and showed me an alternative. I'd been having a terrible time trying not to do my best and to damn my duty to god. Camping in the local recreation ground, surrounded by a very conservative village fete, was no fun. I never fitted in with the Brownies or Guides and there was very little to do in the village. When I found myself in a field full of pot smoking, guitar-strumming hippies, I was awestruck. As we drove away at the end of the day, I stared longingly out of the rear window, and wished that I could stay forever. “Those are my people”, I wanted to say, “The people that I know are not.”
Of course, Glastonbury has changed. It has cash machines now. It has a big fence and up to the minute television coverage. Since ‘the best party on earth’ found its way onto the magic picture box, the wider world’s impression of the festival has changed too. People used to have to lie to their employers when taking a few days off work to go mental in Pilton. You had to be a drug addled freak or weirdo to go to such a place.
Now, I come home from Glastonbury to hear impressive orations about which bands rocked and which bands sucked. The best are from people that have never been to a festival in their lives; not even V. For many years, it’s felt as though my own personal Glastonbury stories are unable to compete with those relayed by the person that’s watched it from home; the person that’s had a soft warm sofa to pass judgement on and a real bed to sleep in.
“Pah”, has always been my second thought. Glastonbury is immense and unless you’ve been there you will never understand. The circus, the theatre, the comedy, the hippies, the comfy crappers. The bicycle powered PA, the solar powered cinema, the freaks, the bumblebee oven. The permaculture, the skateboard ramps, the ballroom dancing, the juggling workshops. The clay modelling, the adventure playgrounds, the dodgems, the pencil making classes. The impromptu performers, the animatronic robot zoo, the steam powered boats, the milk round and the many, many stages. If I cloned myself a thousand times, I would still miss something quite truly amazing at Glastonbury.
In some ways, I hate meeting up with someone that I know at the festival. They will tell me about some wonderful experience that they’ve had, and I will feel envious. I will ask myself why I didn’t choose to be exactly where they were. Coming home is worse. People will have seen all of the highlights. They look puzzled when I admit to not having watched ninety percent of the bands that they saw on their big fat television screen.
Glastonbury is immense. Glastonbury is the best place on earth.
What follows is a list of the performers that I did see this year (not to mention all those wonderful freaks, weirdos and field acts).
Rating system (from very best to very worst):
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Bland
Thursday, 26th June 2008
Friday, 27th June 2008
Saturday, 28th June 2008
Sunday, 29th June 2008
Gutted to have missed:
Glasvegas, Alabama 3, Sons and Daughters, Metronomy, Operator Please, The Cribs, Manu Chao, Billy Bragg, Leonard Cohen, Noah and the Whale, Lykke Li
Fabpants Recommends: Noah and the Whale. Get your slippers on and watch them here:
Noah and the Whale on Channel M
If that doesn't warm the cockles of your heart, listen to Shape of My Heart and 5 Years Time
Yes, I am very gutted that I missed them at Glastonbury. The Sunday clashes were heartbreaking.
BBC Glastonbury Mini Site
The last time I watched Glastonbury on television was very late at night. Bill Odie was hanging out with hippies, interviewing random people and pretending to be mates with The Hothouse Flowers. In the presence of a campfire, frightful songs were performed and, barely awake, I wished that ‘Body’ had better taste. It was a very long time ago. It was in 1989. I still lived in Norfolk and although my sights had been on Glastonbury for many years, I had yet to go.
For those of you that haven’t twigged, Glastonbury is in term-time. In 1991, I finally had no school or exam clashes. I bought a ticket and, without knowing anyone else that was going, I knew that I had made one of the best decisions of my life. I’ve been to every non-cow grazing year since.
I fell in love with festivals when I was 10. My parents stole me from a hideous Girl Guide camp and showed me an alternative. I'd been having a terrible time trying not to do my best and to damn my duty to god. Camping in the local recreation ground, surrounded by a very conservative village fete, was no fun. I never fitted in with the Brownies or Guides and there was very little to do in the village. When I found myself in a field full of pot smoking, guitar-strumming hippies, I was awestruck. As we drove away at the end of the day, I stared longingly out of the rear window, and wished that I could stay forever. “Those are my people”, I wanted to say, “The people that I know are not.”
Of course, Glastonbury has changed. It has cash machines now. It has a big fence and up to the minute television coverage. Since ‘the best party on earth’ found its way onto the magic picture box, the wider world’s impression of the festival has changed too. People used to have to lie to their employers when taking a few days off work to go mental in Pilton. You had to be a drug addled freak or weirdo to go to such a place.
Now, I come home from Glastonbury to hear impressive orations about which bands rocked and which bands sucked. The best are from people that have never been to a festival in their lives; not even V. For many years, it’s felt as though my own personal Glastonbury stories are unable to compete with those relayed by the person that’s watched it from home; the person that’s had a soft warm sofa to pass judgement on and a real bed to sleep in.
“Pah”, has always been my second thought. Glastonbury is immense and unless you’ve been there you will never understand. The circus, the theatre, the comedy, the hippies, the comfy crappers. The bicycle powered PA, the solar powered cinema, the freaks, the bumblebee oven. The permaculture, the skateboard ramps, the ballroom dancing, the juggling workshops. The clay modelling, the adventure playgrounds, the dodgems, the pencil making classes. The impromptu performers, the animatronic robot zoo, the steam powered boats, the milk round and the many, many stages. If I cloned myself a thousand times, I would still miss something quite truly amazing at Glastonbury.
In some ways, I hate meeting up with someone that I know at the festival. They will tell me about some wonderful experience that they’ve had, and I will feel envious. I will ask myself why I didn’t choose to be exactly where they were. Coming home is worse. People will have seen all of the highlights. They look puzzled when I admit to not having watched ninety percent of the bands that they saw on their big fat television screen.
Glastonbury is immense. Glastonbury is the best place on earth.
What follows is a list of the performers that I did see this year (not to mention all those wonderful freaks, weirdos and field acts).
Rating system (from very best to very worst):
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Bland
Thursday, 26th June 2008
| Carnival Collective, Leftfield | Thumbs Up |
| Seal Cub, Leftfield | Ear Candy |
| Elle S’Appelle, Leftfield | Thumbs Up |
| The Rascals, Leftfield | Hideously Bland (lots of swagger) |
| Rodney Branigan, Mandela | Thumbs Up (I powered the PA) |
| Glitzy Bag Hags, Small World | Fucking Awesome |
| Kangaroo Moon, Tadpole | Thumbs Up |
Friday, 27th June 2008
| The Rascals, Other | Hideously Bland (twice?!) |
| The Subways, Pyramid | Ear Candy |
| Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly, Pyramid | Thumbs Up (wish I got a free cape!) |
| Vampire Weekend, Other | Fucking Awesome |
| Lightspeed Champion, John Peel | Thumbs Up |
| The Young Knives, John Peel | Ear Candy |
| The Ting Tings, John Peel | Thumbs Up |
| Inshowen Gospel Choir, Tadpole | Thumbs Up (kazoos are ace) |
| We are Scientists, Other | Thumbs Up |
| The Fratellis, Pyramid | Ear Candy |
| Dizzee Rascal, Park | Ear Candy |
| Pete Doherty, Park | Fucking Awesome (except the encore) |
Saturday, 28th June 2008
| Shakin’ Stevens, Pyramid | Thumbs Up (in loving memory of my first disco) |
| Emmy the Great, John Peel | Ear Candy |
| Los Campesinos, Other | Fucking Awesome |
| The Teenagers, John Peel | Not for Me Thanks |
| XX Teens, Dance East | Ear Candy (with the best dancers ever) |
| Black Kids, Other | Ear Candy (amazing at times and ropey at others) |
| Simon Munnery, Cabaret | Ear Candy |
| Jeremy Hardy, Cabaret | Ear Candy |
| Elbow, Other | Thumbs Up |
| Amy Winehouse, Pyramid | Ear Candy (amazing voice, horrible audience) |
| MGMT, Park | Fucking Awesome |
| Battles, Park | Fucking Awesome |
| Dubious, Rathole | Ear Candy |
| CSS | Fucking Awesome |
Sunday, 29th June 2008
| Black Mountain, Other | Not for Me Thanks |
| Marcus Brigstock, Leftfield | Ear Candy |
| Tony Benn, Leftfield | Ear Candy |
| Neil Diamond, Pyramid | Ear Candy |
| Florence and the Machine, Queens Head | Ear Candy |
| Pigeon Detectives, Other | Not for Me Thanks (lad rock, anyone?) |
| Spiritualized, John Peel | Fucking Awesome |
| Wall-E, Cinema Outside | Ear Candy (fat people in space are ace) |
Gutted to have missed:
Glasvegas, Alabama 3, Sons and Daughters, Metronomy, Operator Please, The Cribs, Manu Chao, Billy Bragg, Leonard Cohen, Noah and the Whale, Lykke Li
Fabpants Recommends: Noah and the Whale. Get your slippers on and watch them here:
Noah and the Whale on Channel M
If that doesn't warm the cockles of your heart, listen to Shape of My Heart and 5 Years Time
Yes, I am very gutted that I missed them at Glastonbury. The Sunday clashes were heartbreaking.
