Mytwopennysworth

Pornography of Poverty – the ethics of economics

2011-04-18T16:57:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since last I splurged upon thoughts that have entered my mind, without much in the way of reasoned research or in fact editing. Perhaps this may turn out as an unintelligible mess, devoid or focused intent and nonsensical to fore. Who knows maybe time has permitted a conditioned sharpness to my written opinion. I guess we shall see. So as my sleep deprived mind often as night descends into lucubration and reflection, today's conjured thought will find it's way here for your reading pleasure or perhaps confusion by bludgeoned views. Perhaps that's enough cautionary self derision for now and I should now seek to properly introduce this topic.

Many years ago in a former guise as failing songwriter, I wrote a song that had the same title as this essay. The subject focus was somewhat similar in general intent but slightly more specified. That particular song was an observation of how in the developed, financial secure Western world any harboured levels of guilt found in our opulence can be allayed by noted reflection of course and support of them, even with financial contribution. Every year we watch the comedic output of the in vogue entertainers of the time in attempts at self ridicule and re-enactments of their respective comedic greatest hits with the focus to bring attention to poverty throughout the world and indeed in our own country. I wish in no uncertain terms to pass any criticism towards such events as comic relief. This event alone raises astronomically vast sums towards attempts to make others lives better. Of course in a sense this remains a drop in the ocean for much of the troubles in the globe, yet still the efforts and intent should not be overlooked. Cancellation of third world debt would bring much more significant benefit. The debts possessed by third world countries where the interest alone can supersede a country's GDP needs re-evaluation. Even the most nihilistic city trader I like to believe would not consider these debt profiles today, of course this could be blind optimism of the general good of people, given someone must have set these up in the first place. The musician Bono may correctly receive much negative attention for fronting campaigns to end these issues, given his own vast wealth and his methods of tax avoidance, but at least some attention is brought.

I have slightly gone off topic here, or perhaps more correctly remained dancing the merry jig of a digression of the intent of this view for too long. So back to he point. In the political landscape there is essentially for all intents and purpose two ideologies that exist. There is the left and right wing, whether that be Labour or Conservative or Republican or Democrat. Yes perhaps these simplistic lines of intent may be more blurred now than ever. The birth of New Labour some 14/15 years ago crystallised that blurring of the lines in Britain. Gone were the simple truths of the major left wing political party's centring around Socialism and the right around Capitalism. The truth is the modern world is more capitalist in it's ideals than ever before. Look at China the last significant vestige of Communism on the planet and soon set to be the world's biggest economy in the next decade or so on all fronts. China opening it's doors to trade and capitalist ideals has catapulted it to mass prominence.

So if the lines are now blurred how does the political landscape align itself with the concept of ethics in its economics if there even is any consideration. Well the blurring is not all that new. At their very core either political ideology is best understood at their extreme forms. For socialism read Communism and for the right read Fascism. Both completely different ideals at the core, but don't both ideas bring mass control, reductions to freedoms and a dystopia idea. Politics or at least politics of major partys mellowed and perhaps this evolved to the world today, where not too long ago a Labour government introduced tuition fees for students. These are the points that perhaps we best understand of the key divisional split. The right favours a distinct meritocracy and the left a dispersement of wealth to the less fortunate. Perhaps this glib overview gives an insight to my leanings with it's phrasing. If I can try and remain Bi-Partisan, I would state that the right's intent is to reward the successful through lower taxes, reduced public spending and overall governmental involvement. In a sense this is a political ideal, I agree with. A conservative civil servant, Copperthwaite was sent to a far away country in the Commonwealth in the sixties to oversee the government and apply ideas. He introduced a simple measure. He removed taxation for all low income earners and reduced the proportion of taxation paid by the wealthier. This radical change gave rise to investment, allowed a key development of spending and allowed for trade and a strong manufacturing base. The vast increase in wealth in the country actually generated vast revenues for the government and established some of the best public services in the world. This small island that was for all intents and purposes a shanty-town became on the world's leading global financial centres. That island was Hong Kong, the same ideals were later adopted by China and well we know the story there too. This idea at the core of right wing politics makes sense. Governments don't create wealth, people create wealth if you allow them too. At the peak of the Labour's big government economy there was elements of the UK that had an economic base of near 80% public sector, how can that be sustainable. My allegiances may appear to have swayed towards the right significantly. If my 15 year old anarchic, hippy self could hear me now... Well not so simple. The simple cut and fast rule of Western politics still holds true. The right taxes less and spends less. The left taxes more and spends more. Hong Kong showed both could be done. We would all like to pay less tax of course but we all, well at least some of us like to see lots of government spending too. This does not mean bureaucracies on top of bureaucracies. This means funding for education, the health service, crime prevention, social order, cultural activities of course the list goes on.

This falls to the crux of the argument. The rich get rich and the poor stay poor. There was a man employed by Barclays bank, he probably hide some high faluting convoluted title. Essentially his job role was to find methods to avoid tax for Barclays to pay. For his efforts in a single year with salary and bonuses he was paid £40m, now Barclays like any business will pay where value is created. So how much money did Barclays PLC save due to his efforts. Why are their positions and loopholes that permit this activity. Why are tax domicile statuses allowed to continue. In some of the biggest austerity measures to face Britain in recent years, how hard were the banks hit in the recent government report and measures to tackle this. Was the retail element and investment elements of banks separated as so many advised was needed. Of course retail banking is a necessity like any service such as the utilities companies. Banking is needed for the individual and of course the private sector. The government was right to not allow these institutions to fold, then again it was not retail banking that contributed to the global financial meltdown. It was investment bankers, I'm not concerned with bankers receiving inordinate sums of money as bonuses in the same way I have no issue with Premiership footballers being paid monumentally high salaries. Again with a sway towards the right, if you earn it you should receive it. Perhaps in a way wouldn't it be better if every Saturday such people as heart surgeons had notoriety and featured on Transplant of the Day with Gary Linieker thus establishing a market for vast wealth of a more esteemed occupation. Simply though it's supply and demand. People pay to watch football, this creates wealth in an industry and arguably its the gifted few who play the game who should receive that money. As much as I don't agree with the opportunity that created the position for the man at Barclays to achieve such a high wage for tax avoidance, but safe to say they thought he earned it. The issue people had was of course banks failing, global financial meltdown and people still receiving six figure plus bonuses. I know in my job if I monumentally (insert expletive of choice here) up, I don't get a piece of paper with a number followed by lots of noughts. Maybe one with a letter P and the numbers 45. As banks are seen as not being able to fail there is no worries and this cycle can perpetuate. Of course there are other concerns such as the capital reserves banks maintain or indeed don't. A rule never strongly enforced be the complete non entity that is the FSA.

I see that those with a true conscious for the lesser privileged tend to be those closer to it. Is this a sense of survival. Do people with socialist ideals think this way because predominantly they themselves do not posses vast wealth or perhaps more recently knew what poverty of less than opulent living was. Huge high streets chains such as Primark have been known to exploit poorer nations, with their sourcing of clothing lines, but yet the clothes in these stores are cheap. So who buys them or in fact is forced to buy them through financial constraints. Why don't the leaders of such companies forgo this seemingly competitive advantage and display some moral conviction. Are they exploiting ideals to create yet more wealth for themselves. Whilst ironically infuriating their customer base, who perhaps through an associated kinship feel guilt when buying a shirt that perhaps they cannot afford elsewhere.

Is there any room for ethics in economics or is this just my socialist hippy views of yesteryear coming back for an encore, I'd like to believe there is. Though may be that is wishful thinking and in cynical times perhaps all there is is cynicism. At least no-one charges for that... yet.

“The only way we find our identity/Our aching hearts long for sympathy/Look for lives torn apart/Awake the love in our heart/It's the imbalance that sets us free/We long for the pornography of poverty.”

Racism in Hollywood... Not as Depp as it sounds

2011-02-21T15:24:00.001-08:00

Johnny Depp is often accused of reinvigorating a similar role in some of his films, especially that when in collaboration with Tim Burton. Wacky, irreverence the alternate generation's goof ball that they take to heart with aplomb. Whether it be the aching melancholy of the tender Scissorhands or his more outlandish Wonka. Burton certainly has his own unique distorted view on American cinema and Depp is often a willing and enamoured cohort to come along for the ride.

Depp further explores character creation with his famed parody of Keith Richards in the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise or his reworking of actual characters such as Hunter S Thompson, John Dillinger and Joseph Pistone. Perhaps Depp's character commonly have an unhinged or kooky element. It is perhaps unfair to castigate with this tag alone though. Does he suffer from a similar issue of that of say a Brad Pitt. Actors who genuinely do posses talent at their craft and give strong performances but often adorn calendars and other such items, face derision of their competence. Is this a fair accusation perhaps not. Both actors have a strong body of work behind them.

A recent type of discrimination that is surely much worse and more destructive is given in recent comments voiced towards Depp being cast as Tonto; a Native American in an upcoming remake of the Lone Ranger. There has been vociferous words of protest that the role was not given to a Native American. Like some element of racial prejudice has left the prospective Native American community has been handed an element of racial injustice. Eisner's last stand this is not.

Depp has after all previously played a Mexican assassin in Rodriguez's Once Upon a Time in Mexico. I do not recall an incendiary reaction from the Mexican acting community. The modern craft of make-up, prosthetics and technical wizardry I'm sure can overcome any shortcomings in the Kentucky born actors genetic shortcomings. Is this a loss for the hope of an emerging Native American actor. Depp is a world renowned notable star with a huge box office draw. He has on countless times exhibited the ability to assume and make his own a variety of actors. The film is to be made by Disney Disney are of course a respective global conglomerate placing box office/ancillary sales ahead of any boundary/talent breaking ideals. This is not a surprising move.

For people to question Depp's credentials seems somewhat askew, isn't his job to pretend to be someone else? Something to which has established him a pedigree of success with the trappings of fame and fortune which this brings. Perhaps more concerning were the comments made specifically by Rupert Everett lamenting the casting of Colin Firth as a gay man in A Single Man, due to Firth's failing of not actually being a homosexual actor, whilst not actually being gay. I mean the cheek of it. A man who for all intents and purposes looks set to become an Oscar winning actor having the outright audacity of assuming he can act as something he is not.

I'm sorry in our world of overzealous political correctness, will there ever be a modicum of common sense ushered in. Whatever happened to the best man for the job. Before that phrase is challenged, don't worry I'm not being exclusive towards the female race here in any way. Both Annette Bening and Julianne Moore also received prejudicial treatment for daring to cross the sexuality divide, with a foolhardy belief that some kind of conviction in their abilities. Abilities of course which in the case of Bening earned her an Academy award nomination for best actress.

Hollywood is a place seemingly populated with a perverse blend of well intentioned liberals and capitalist behemoths. It's not often I side in favour of the money men over the liberals, but on this occasions I feel I must. Well that's my two pennies worth. Oh my once you side once with the capitalists, it's just all about the money...

Seeking a Dish with a Twist

2011-02-18T14:36:00.000-08:00

Any music of note can have numerous reactions upon the listener. It can be a case of emotional connection with experience or the ability to whisk one's mindset to another place. Listening through the music of Spiral Scouts achieves both; with a more hefty nod to the latter.

So the scene was set. As the twilight transcends hastily amending the sky's palette from perfect blue to pastel shades of sunset. The clouds transform into the sight of mash potato basking in the velvety comforting glow of molten butter. The heat of the day replaced by the easing cool of the night time. Friends gather around a camp-fire. The crackling of burning kindling falls like echoes in the evening air. A perfect partner to this reflective and celebratory bliss is the fiddle playing of Heath Lavery of Spiral Scouts, which not so much compliments the rhythmic and lead pairing of George Spittal and Andy Hall respectively, as to feel like the involuntary reaction of inhaling and exhaling. Spiral Scouts stake their claim for inclusion into such a perfect evening. Over the top of this gloriously effectual and earnest of arrangements is Spittal's soothing vocals. His vocal style drifts between the pendulum of soothing confidant and wizened storyteller. I note a comparison cited to Paul Weller. In my opinion save for a few exceptions I feel Weller's relevancy ended with The Jam. The similarity is found in the notwithstanding my previous comment, the maturer more soulful sound of an elder Weller in his contemplative best. Not least of all on the song “Black Cat”, which incidentally is an engaging tale as there can be with the beautifully crafted and delivered refrain of “I've had far too many lies told to me.”

The scene changes and shifts. Wintry, blustery storms are brewing. Panes of glass in windows are feeling the tumultuous torrent of abuse of nature's elements that match the protagonists inner turmoil. She sits shifting uneasily in a chair by a roaring fireside, the world having removed her own inner flame. Returned it to embers that at best flicker, struggle to remonstrate any visible signs of life. Victims befell by acts of horrendous atrocities, that lay comatose in hospital beds exhibit more life. Her face drawn, hollow with the shifting glow of the fire to display a woman lost of this world. She sits in the knowing embrace of such songs of genuine craftsmanship and honesty as “the maiden and the fire”. This is music's chronicling of emotional journeys and characters that we all can relate to.

Spiral Scouts are an amalgamation of potently talented musicians from various different concoctions of other bands from the Blackpool area. Often such visible talent does not always sit together in an embracing harmony.

It appears that it is almost impossible to turn on the television these days without being force fed (I'd say excuse the pun, but obviously it's intended) countless cookery shows where presenters and opinionated commentators wax lyrical about composition of dishes. Apparently its not enough to source perfect ingredients, execute preparation and throw it all together. Seemingly it's equally important to consider composition of a dish for it be truly deemed accomplished and acceptable. I can see the relevancy of such a point and the analogy is befitting.

In addition to the aforementioned Spittal, Hall and Lavery. There are other brilliant ingredients to this dish. With additional vocals from Kim Baldwin, flute playing from as I write this unknown player which of course adds an element of mystery. There is a solid and unimposing rhythm section which perhaps calls for clarification of such a comment.

This is a largely traditional sounding band with necessary virtuoso and flair originating from the potently talented Andy Hall on guitar, who appears more home in this purest showcasing of talent than perhaps were more well known rumbustious guises. Equally the work of Lavey's fiddle plays its important part too. Songs move from quirky tempo and outlaw travelling drive and groove where the rhythm section comes along for the ride. On other occasions a breath is sought and allows slower sultry moments to reverberate for the listener's delight and reflection. This is not a place for showy bass fills or pounding rhythms this is a place for the starch of the dish if you will, to provide the sustenance but not detract from the more exotic flavours. Of course television teaches me this is how a great dish should be. Each ingredient having its chance to shine but not overwhelming one another. Well simply put enjoy the feast.

Spiral Scouts can be found here http://www.reverbnation.com/spiralscouts#!

the hounds, the pussycat and the shelter

2010-02-02T10:44:00.000-08:00

Blue Room Acoustic Night 22/01/10

I apologise first of all it has been a profusely long time since any verbal discourse has left my mind or fingertips or in fact whatever medium you subscribe to as it's deliverant. I shall return to the fold now with a review of a gig I attended recently at the Blue Room in Blackpool last Thursday. Admittedly this is further late in it's appearance given that the evening in question for my assessment and this erstwhile riposte was well as can be determined from the date some time ago.

This evening saw three performers namely The Busking Boozehounds, Laura Catlow and Troubador take the stage to purvey their sonic skills to a somewhat windblown and sodden audience. I myself had cycled through some fittingly despairing precipitation that had matched my tawdry state and left me suitably dampened and in desperate need of some warming musical delight.

The Busking Boozehounds hailing from St. Annes took to the stage a little later than anticipated however this afforded me the opportunity to attempt to warm and dry off as well as catching up with some chums about recent events as seemingly forms an integral part of the social contract of friendship.

The Busking Boozehounds or furthermore for ease TBB are made up of three young males; two acoustic guitarists, one being a 12 string and a bass guitarist. They seemingly had a pleasant and amiable vibe about them that continued with their opening cover of a Eagles song. Now I must say I have never been a fan of the Eagles, I do love a lot of the West Coast sound of that era with the likes of Neil Young and Joni Mitchell. I have always found the Eagles the musical embodiement of blandness and tedium. The song was well performed and sang well by the man who took lead vocals throughout the evening. I would say his voice was the highlight of this band. It had a presence of clairty but with underlying earthy tones and lent itself well to the music they performed.

Following the theme of my ponderment I have long since applied to the Eagles, in addition to the rather sour wishy washy taste of blandness they leave in my mouth, I have never really understood their need for multiple guitar parts for what is realistically simplistic music. I guess as hypocritical as it is for me to say from a verbiose standpoint I subscribe to the notion that less is more.

TBB had a a second 12 string guitarist that seemingly offered no real benefit to the overall sound. I was looking for that jingly jangly sound reminescent of the Byrds to offer a more fuller rounded sound. This did however come later as it was discovered the guitar was not plugged in correctly. This did indeed produce the desired effect of a fuller and more enjoyable sound.
The set they performed was littered with covers most notably a quite rousing performance of the Stealer's Wheel classic thrust into the modern public concious through the film Resevoir Dogs, "Stuck in the Middle with you". The small amount of their original material performed was quite good and had some good moments of harmony and composition fitting well with the spectrum of covers presented. The bassist did play some well placed grooves that gave the sound some momentum that the lack of rythmn lost.

All in all not a bad group nothing to really hate but also nothing to really love. I would like to have seen a bit more fire but the singer's voice was strong and enjoyable.

Next up was Laura Catlow, as many may well know I am a big fan of this girl both as a performer and perhaps more so as a songwriter. Songs are always best though in that instant moment of connection of performer and audience in a live setting and this evening was no different.

The Blue Room was not overley packed most likely due to the weather conditions and where normally Laura has an understandable army of fans in support in tow, the support from this evening came in way of her mum and dad, Lella and me. This seemed to create a level of fragility in her presence for her opening song "Opinion of Me". This was quite an interesting sight to behold a person so blessed with natural, prescence and charm not as usual buoyed by innate playful confidence. Given the subject matter of the song though this initial almost deinty furtive performance was quite befitting.

The audience took little to no time to be graced and charmed by Catlow's prowess and soon were metaphorically gathered around the bowl greedily slurping up the musical cream. Catlow performed a faultless version of her 90s medley mix, which to those who have never seen this performed is somewhere in the region of at a guess thirty or more snippets of Britpop classic fused together into three or so of the most mesmeric and nostalgic pleasing moments of music. With inclusions ranging from the Happy Mondays through Oasis and even the one time hit Spaceman by if memory serves me correctly Babylon Zoo this is certainly a veritable treat and a great weapon in the armory of a performer who may have started somewhat tentatively.
There was a selection of other great Catlow hits and the regular appearance of the 3Oh3 cover "Trust Me". Perhaps the advice is fitting to indeed never trust a Ho, however on a personal level this is obviously not the case with the lady in question given the predication of such touching sentiments and emotion that litter the tray of her songs. On a musical level maybe this is true though as the dirty and debauched collection of various influences all cumulate together into a wonderous orgy of delight for the listener.

There was a new song in way of "the chicken shop blues". A person with Catlow's talents should live on Mars or something not work in a chicken shop but that she does and has beautifully articulated that experience in such a great song. Bluesy it may be but if the Amercians of the deep South regular masticate onto chicken and deem it soul food this seems quite fitting given this songs revelations of soul.

There was a slight technical issue where all power was lost whilst Catlow was mid flow in "Skin and Bone", efforts by the collected masses to sing along and maintain momentum were eventually stopped and after power was restored Catlow wrapped up another great performance with an ever perfect version of the amazing song that is "Horrorshow".

The last act of the evening were Troubador. I had many good things about this duo but for reasons entirely unbeknownst to me had as yet not seen them, so to stay anticipation was a firmly stoked fire would not be an understatement and I still needed the heat.

The duo comprise two people Michael Shenagher and Andy Bache. Michael takes lead vocals and plays acoustic guitar whilst Andy adds backing vocals and plays a menagerie of instruments to beautiful song if I can bastardise that phrasing so.

The songs have a truly epic feel due to the arrangements and prescence of at varying times, guitars, banjo, harmonica and penny whistle. There is definitive soundscapes created transported the listener to various times and places all with sheer delight.

Michael's vocal style is laidback and comforting may be a fitting term. Not to say it lacks any prescence because it certainly has its moments of inferno and crescendo, but soothing and pleasing clarity is the norm. The group made me think of Gomez in parts due to the blues and folk style, variant instrumentation and at times duelling vocals of Michael's silky but still earthy tones akin to Ian Gray and Andy's gruff grandaddy of the Delta blues style reminescent of Ben Ottewell. There isn't the quirkiness of Gomez but their is the musical beauty.

There was other musical influences on show exactly what you would imagine by the description thus far such as Dylan, The Levellers and others such luminaires of purveyors of excellent folk music as James Taylor. Laidback this may largely be but do not confuse this as being bereft of singificance or sparks.

The lyrics are largely poetic verging on symbolic ideals whilst also having a normality of regularity about them which is enticing and enriching to the style of the music.
I can't recall the last song but whatever it is titled this and a song I belive was called "Shelter" were highlights of a truly accomplished set. I look forward eagerly to seeing these again and shall be investigating the acquisition of some recorded material.

This ain't no horrowshow...

2009-10-25T12:35:00.000-07:00

I suppose as is traditional I shall begin this review with some type of exposition of intent. I was recently browsing a local music forum and came across a request from a good friend to review his latest musical offerings of his new acoustic ensemble. I gladly obliged and the results are on this webpage ("bitten by the animals" I believe), however whilst there I also saw a posting of a new song from another local acoustic musician requesting feedback. Having heard the name through mutual friends and being a long time lover of acoustic music I decided upon a voyage of discovery by selecting the largest of spoons to engorge myself indulgently to a large helping of this music. I am very glad that I did, it proved to be one of the finest and sumptuous banquets of musical delights and which I know full well I shall indulge myself in with ravenous appetite in the future. The person in question is Laura Catlow and this review focuses around the songs available for perusal on her myspace (www.myspace.com/lauracatlow).

I hope I am beginning to establish or underpin a level of credibility where I should no longer feel the need to justify or qualify any statements I make, this review as with any word I utter is delivered through true conviction of belief. I had I later learnt met Laura albeit briefly in a distant past but did not know of her esteemed musical prowess at this point. The following most likely lengthy and verbose indulgences are a true reflection which I hope you appreciate and resonate with.

I shall approach this by discussing my views on each of the six songs presented but begin and end with some general views and comments. There that seems to satisfy any requirements of housekeeping or scene setting that may be deemed required and I shall now get on with this.
I must confess that I do not know specific details of the origins and intent of this collection of songs, all I can offer is my interpretation and reflection such as it is. I am however fully of the belief that the best songs from the best songwriters welcome the listener in an inclusive manner that allows for their own connection. Where songs are written in such a way as to achieve the status of developing flourishing connections and resonance with their listeners this can be deemed as truly accomplished songwriting. This is definitively evident and I shall seek to prove this thesis.

I also do not know whether these songs are constructed as musical vignettes of experiences felt by Laura or in fact are acts of storytelling prowess and indication of a powerful and vivid imagination. In a sense I don't care, the end results are still highly pleasing songs of great value. If these are songs are formed of experience, then it is clear to note that Laura leads an interesting and varied existence awash with many intriguing characters within the melting pot of her life, if these songs are the work of imagination alone, then this is clearly evidence of quite powerful awareness as the learned references, ever ready charm and wit and sincerity that is used to deliver these moments conjures imagery with such consummate ease that makes Derren Brown pale in comparison in his distinction of a master conjurer. In fact Brown who is clearly and correctly a highly regarded illusionist and conjurer or as ,Stephen Fry would recant a man with a "black witches heart" is lastingly left to appear as a failed pitiful two bit magician on a pier of a dilapidated seaside town.

In addition to quite magnificently capturing emotion and many aspects of modern culture, this collection of songs has underlying social commentary that cannot and should not be ignored but in fact embraced and cherished. "Feeling Rough" for example expertly captures a snapshot assessment of modern youth culture, with its brilliant decomposition of the song's integral character as detailed within the storytelling arc of the song. This woman could easily resemble much of today's misguided youth, with her pursuits of hedonism, appreciation and that strangest of situations within younger people the mutual quest to appear different, individual and unique. Of course to appear any of those things cannot be accomplished with clothes or hairstyles but in fact with personality and demeanour. I find it almost amusing how so many people dress in certain ways purposefully for the ideal to be viewed as different when in fact themselves and the countless others who are attempting to do the same have no more appeared different then anyone subscribing to the perceived normality of modern Britain. "57 Manchester Road" seeks to continue this storytelling style fused with anthropological disseminations with assertions upon modern working class Britain, including aspects of poverty and misaligned dreams of hope and promise. Other songs serve as collections of emotion and reflections of feelings both inner and outer.

The musical homes these songs are provided are born out of varied references, briefly scanning the cited influences produces an interesting mix of classic storytellers and archetypal songwriter geniuses of the folk mould with example such as Dylan and Cohen. Anybody who cites Dylan as an important reference and bears these fruits in their output is guaranteed to generate my interest. There is a smattering of Brit Pop classics and interestingly Juliette Lewis and the Licks and the Buzzcocks of the more punk orientation. This reflects back to Laura's legacy of being an integral member of all girl punk band. Her acoustic music does not depart too far from these roots as the punk attitude of vociferous belief and conviction is ever present even if it is presented in a more fragile, stripped down and humble manner. Raucous powrchord riffs may be displaced with bluesy shuffles and modern styled staccato rhythms but the intent is still very much there. There is definite echos of The Libertines influence at play even if this is not directly cited, with the musical direction, poetic lyrics and delivery of modern and cultural references. If the ship of the Albion is now captained by Laura Catlow then its certainly heading in the right direction and I wish to stow aboard for the journey.

Laura's prodigious vocal talents contributes perfectly to these songs. Laura has clearly taken on board Wilde's assertion of "The Importance of Being Earnest" as each and every song is provided a real sense of drama and emotion that the excellent lyrics deserve. Laura's voice varies from an angelic, sonorous and soulful quality to a rawer, gritty and more natural sound as emotion and song dictates. There are quite frankly beautiful moments in both the openness of the delivery and humility that is present.

Songs such as "Feeling Rough" exemplify Laura's natural dialect in full effect and provide the song a staunchly greater reality to its subject matter. "Opinion of Me" and "Gorgeous" presents a soulful voice, dripping with sun drenched honey to depict its sweetness perfectly suited to the respective song's direction of introspection and yearning. "Skin and Bone" and "57 Manchester Road" have a vocal style that is conveyed with reticence bereft of the normal sweetness of Laura's normal singing style. Not to say that there isn't still the normal levels of charm within. The vocal presence of "Horrorshow" more than any of the other songs is seemingly overspilling with emotion. As I have said I do not know the relevance of personal attachment to the meanings of these songs, but this song really does seem brimmed with emotion and the vocal delivery truly matches this. There is a focused strength which juxtaposes against the inner felt angst that results in a vocal performance that cannot be ignored, but alas be enjoyed, respected and admired.

"skin and bone"

My first foray into the music of Laura Catlow came by way of the opening song on her Myspace account; "Skin and Bone". This song immediately established the same connection that my first listen to "Joy, Discovery and Invention" did for my initiation to Biffy Clyro. I must make it clear that I am not making musical comparisons from a genre perspective. The opening guitar and vocal lines of the aforementioned Biffy song that builds into the accentuated crescendo of the pre chorus had the same instant impact and delight within me that "Skin and Bone" had. A struck chord followed by a well fitting blues fill and then returning to other single struck progressive chords, is in essence quite simple but immediately affecting. This is also reused as a method to segue way between verses. Within those first few seconds my senses were opened to something of great promise that has drawn me in instantly and deeply. The introduction is promptly followed by a staccato rhythm that provides the perfect platform for the lyrical content of this song with its visible drive and intent.

The theme of the song is the recalling tale of a woman who has been deeply affected by the emotional turmoil that her experiences have presented. The lyrical dexterity and openness of delivery is clearly evident. The lasting line of the chorus of "when you look into her eyes you turn to skin and bone" is powerful on the written page but the starkness of the delivery elevates this and instantly presents an image of a woman so worn by the world that any love or hope has burned from her eyes to be replaced with a cold cynicism that provides the song's identified Medusa power. Perhaps the intent of this song is Laura's attempt to replicate Perseus's removal of this terror by metaphorically beheading the sadness away. In any event the song is powerful in its ability to provide its emotional message and draw in the listener. I'm not sure why I have veered off into this Grecian myth analogy so perhaps best not to question further and attempt to return to some normality.

There is the evidence of some of the best lyrical couplets I have heard in a long time specifically the following; "Cos her heart's too heavy when its made of stone, so she keeps it on her sleeve and carries it around, in case she ever needs a visual prop, for a tale of all the men who done her wrong" This is a brilliantly concise, succinct and focused work of great poetic value that surmises the song's intent.

The song breaks down towards the end into a different musical interlude with an increase to the intensity of the guitar and singing which almost borders on rapping for its speed of delivery. This section of the song instigates an added level of excitement that is ultimately paid off by returning to the same introductory exchange of single chord stabs and blues guitar fills before providing some final conclusion in a last example of the pre chorus and chorus.

"opinion of me"

Laura's own sense of frailty and yearning to be accepted, cherished and loved could be argued to be one of the keenest intentions of pursuit of love found within this collection.

This song opens with a blues type guitar shuffle which is promptly followed by soulfully sang lyrics. The song appears to be Laura's declaration of her perceived frailties and inadequacies. There is something quite touching about Laura's humility especially as it is presented with the usual charming and amusing lyrics. It is pleasing to note that a person who seemingly grasps many nuances of life with such seemingly consummate ease within the music she writes so well, still retains that level of humility and presents this in an open and honest manner. Interestingly she begins by denying that any comparison to what I believe is an X factor contestant cannot be made regarding her declared lack of abilities to sing or dance. Not being entirely offay with modern culture I had to look up the person who she was referring to. I would agree fervently that Laura does not replicate (wrong word) an X factor contestant. Laura has more soul and talent found in the briefest of moments within any of the excellent compiled songs she creates than any of the vacuous, formulaic, soulless entities that make up the modern take on the medieval concept of the jester for the king's entertainment that frequent that television show. So yes indeed Laura you are a songwriter and performer of conviction and true talent and never forget this or perhaps worst of all compromise or subscribe to the dreaded concept of "selling out". I'm confident this will not occur and if ever I sense any of this I shall be one of the first to declare this loudly to hopefully nip this in it's metaphorical bud so that this most enticing and flourishing of flowers can continue to reach for the sun.

The song continues in the same charming theme with discourses including autobiographical moments declaring a weakness for consultation which does appear at the contrary of her esteemed emotional understanding as documented in this collection of songs.

Laura states that she could be "so so lovely to you" but is wary in the most smile initiating way as being perceived as "crazy when [she] talks to cats". This most quirky and humorous lyric ridden with endearing moments, indicates clearly indeed a lovely person equipped with quirks and nuances of character traits. Which is the worse situation; a person so visible and conformed to what society requests or a person who distorts this view with their own intricacies and variant views. This is quite clearly a rhetorical question with a heavy and much justified biased towards the obvious answer.

There is one declaration within all the included inner angst that forms this song's journey. It is correct an opinion of her should be re-evaluate should be changed, however there is only person who needs to do this and that is Laura. If Laura can find the balance between retaining the charm and artistic awakening that is evident from her self reflective and humble nature and couple this with the a growing sense of self confidence confounded in the many praiseworthy traits on show then happiness and continued artistic success will be her companion.

"Feeling Rough"

A dissection of modern youth culture where emphasis is placed on a hedonistic stylised lifestyle bereft of content.

Chronologically speaking the next song is "Horrorshow" but at this moment I shall skip past this for now and move on one. "Feeling Rough" is a live radio recording and in many respects could be seen as Laura in the purest form.

The song's setting is largely that of a seemingly endless party with a hedonistic atmosphere drawing some kind of obscure parallel with the debauchery that Chaucer once chronicled. The underlying current that is however impossible to be washed away on, is firmly located in the almost tear jerking assessment of the song's protagonist. Laura is almost accusative and vindictive in the delivery and steely eyed direction reminiscent of a "Times they are a-changin'" Dylan.

The party setting is further established with the bustling nature of the guitar and lyrical flow where moments of pause or relapse appear to hang to punctuate the sadder themes of the song.
As seemingly popular or praised the song's subject may or may once have been, Laura brilliantly peels away these layers to witness a girl lost within all the noise. A girl who could be seen as the personification of modern day youth culture encompassing many themes

An instant reaction to this song is that the sound and Laura's performance takes on an Arctic Monkey's feel. After follow up listens this is at best lazy journalism. Yes the song starts with a solemn declaration before building to a more forceful pace and returning full circle to the same opening part, reminiscent of "Where the Sun Goes Down" and of course the vocal delivery is quite evidently more distinctly Northern than other performances. As I said this is a lazy journalistic response to urge to search for an immediately available pigeon hole in which to place her.

Firstly the vocal performance is distinctly more rough around the edges especially in comparison to some of the more soulful examples of her vocal range. There is nothing wrong and in fact there is much that is right with a performer that elects to deliver themselves naturally. In comment to the rougher sound, this perfectly fits the subject matter of the song. It would be ignorant to deny that Arctic Monkeys as well as many other modern bands of similar distinction bear an influence on Laura's music, but to blindly accept this and move on is ignorant at best and at worst completely narrow minded as to not soak up more of the other delights available for appreciation. Folk music is music for the people and is an ever organic entity. As more and more varied sounds and styles enter the public consciousness the greatest of the folk chronicling songwriters use and incorporate these techniques and style to deliver their messages to a suitably more receptive audience.

"Feeling Rough" manages to offer a different insight into Laura's impressive musical pedigree, but most important of all is that the song sounds and still remains clearly an original Laura Catlow composition. What is becoming a recurring theme of her music is the level of incite, passion, emotion and heart that is poured into every line, guitar line and note sang. This combination and many other superlatives combine together to produce the end result of the performance and music of Laura Catlow being truly unique and enticing beyond belief. Taking this extra moment of reflection instead of knee jerk reactionary views as is so often true in life is a worthwhile endeavour and in this case provides greater enjoyment and appreciation of the most endearing of musical moments.

"57 Manchester road"

A song encapsulating two great themes of anthropological analysis with poverty and the mass media's attempts to remover any thoughts of liberation through the sanitisation of banal media and cheating the dreams of the aspirational, furthermore this touches upon the media's representation of so called beauty. With model culture also being critiqued through the prerequisite that "when you're a model you've got to be tall." The song's varied themes are passed through a Carrollesque looking glass of aching heartfelt documentation of it's main character to highly satisfying results.

The song is harrowing in its tale and this is further expressed with the keenly meloncholic delivery it receives. Laura's innate charm provides a wave of momentum that take what could've been a tawdry almost dostoyevskyesque tale and elevates this to almost positivity amongst the ruin. It is as though as much as most of the song's dialogue may be centred around the dour and drawn, there is still an underlying hope that cannot be denied. This is perhaps presented in the way that Orwell would have been proud of in that one day the proles will rise up. If they will or won't is unknown but what is known is that the working classes will battle against the challenges of life with a smile upon their faces through Laura's eyes and this is indeed a great outlook. Only external observers heavily laden with their preconceptions and own form of conditioning are affected by these things when viewing, which of course makes an interesting point.

The song charts Laura's role oncemore as storyteller and her interaction with the character's life. Conversations are offered and presented with an Anglified etched charm such as "she said would you like a cup of tea, I said I'm alright. She said you might as well the kettle's hot, I said, Ok why not." This can be analysed into two areas either Laura's view of the character's much needed frugality and therefore not wishing for her to have waste electricity, which is of course a touching sentiment. Alternatively and perhaps in fact maybe its also the great English sensibility that anything can be solved with a cup of tea and no matter who or what we are, this custom should always be adhered to.

It is impossible not to be affected by the lines referring to "child's in a chair all covered in piss". As these images enter my mind added to by the lingering synth sounds like appear to howl an almost etheral tear jerking vibe, my mind flits back to my original correlation drawn towards Dostoyevsky and his harrowing and draining tale of the exploits of Raskolnikov. Perhaps comparrison to classic Russian literature is not the obvious direction to go with, but the same all-consuming and lingering sense of dread and despair I felt as an impressionable young man reading that great book was reintroduced in the aching sadness afflicted by this song. Truly stunning work.

"gorgeous"

A sumptiously melodic and focussed drive towards adoration and romantic endeavour, that is essentially the musical definition of charm and delight.

After the few moments that pass while a patiently wait for my suspect internet connection to deliver the next song, I'm left to reflect perhaps akin to that moment in a film where a dramatic climax is met with a few moments of silence before the credits begin to role before some somber strings are introduced. Was I allowed this sombre reflection, quite frankly no. "Gorgeous" comes belting out with exuberance, excitement and energy. The song is summery in it's vibrancy which serves as an assaulting perfect antidote to the ending of "57 Manchester Road". The song treated with a fuller band sound ensues delight with it's boundless enthusiasm and drive.
The song is seemingly an autobiographical recollection of Lauras's pursuit of a woman that the very pursuit is burned into memory and dissected into five individual experiences. The woman so highly viewed and achieving pedestal status to be neatly and economically be referred to in the song's passionate chorus as "what can I do when you're gorgeous and I can't stop looking at you." A simplistic lyrical phrasing but brilliantly capturing the sentiment of infactuation and adolation.

The song is full of the usual storytelling descriptive nature of many of Laura's songs and is ridden with charm not least of all at the crux of the chorus where Laura is asked "are you alright babe?", with her response of "yeah are you" with the charm exentuated through the removal of all the music giving extra power to the sweetness of the reply.

If "57 Manchester Road" is impossible to not feel affected and emotional after listening and absorbing then "Gorgeous" serves as the perfect antidote leaving a smile as the only possible outcome.

"horrorshow"

Any songs that have their origins firmly housed in the shadows and darker moments of life will often arise my interest. A bright and cheery song of love and happiness has its place in life, but songs that document the alternative side are often always more effectual in establishing a connection with their aural recipients. It is at our darkest hour when we search for the support of art to define and provide the craven emotional crutch.

I intentionally skipped past this song before in my commentary principally as I wished to end on this. Any one of the songs could have left this review on a high note, but highest of all is attained through my dissection of this my clear and adundantly identified favourite. The other songs have many pleasing and admirable qualities which I don't feel I need to revisit as I have done this at length already, but this song pushes the level that bit more.

The song opens with a gently picked chord progression that is well constructed to produce the result of quickly establishing a comforting understanding. Songs that have that almost classic value from a first listen are often born out of the fact that music provides that same sense of understanding and welcome through the direction that the harmony develops to provide a sense of delight and happiness akin to lovers embracing that first embrace after what has seemed and endless parting at a train station or airport. Train stations have long been a favourite place of mine for many reasons but opportunities to witness this being one of the main ones. Anyway once more I digress.

The song after initial and pleasing absorbtion is achingly sad in subject matter as what appeared once a powerful and passionate relationship is crumbling around the very ground that Laura finds herself on. The song is effectively a declaration or catalogue of many of the woes that she has felt interspersed with a flitting and fickle presence of mind, as though whilst she seems very aware that this is not right there is an unwillingness to let go. So "up and down" she may be "made to frown" but she is also at a quandry to understand "how all this relates to me".

Laura certainly has a musical and lyrical style of her own. Simplistic and open lines sit side by side with inciteful educated declarations, within the first verse of this song the mood and intent is set. The punctuated and almost tearful spite that accompanies "that's sick, next time that's it you make me think all this is shit" follows a comparison to an assesment of the situation with a reference to Burgess's A Clockwork Orange, but all this works very well and i fact seemless. The delivery is almost tiresome, lethargic or perhaps more correctly bereft of enthusiasm and apathy resulting from the overriding emotion of the song. Not to say there is any lack of committal quite the opposite but "Horrorshow", as with many of Laura's compositions perfectly blend expertly crafted lyrics that summise some of the most complex of emotions and experiences into neat packages and simultaneously the performance presented matches the intent of the song's story. Laura's varying performance can be said to be another part of the make up of her music it's almost like another instrument such is it's usage in the overall piece.

The verse ends and then a more focussed intensity is welcomed. The guitar picking is replaced with a good rhythmic strumming and the vocal has shifted away from the weary into at least on a concious level, although I detect not a sub concious level, to have more conviction and strength. It is as though Laura is seeking to mask her feelings from herself and is forcing herself to feel stronger. In a sense an example of musically burying one's head in the sand.

There is a moment of real beauty so aching with emotion that arrives in swathes that stands out from all other moments in all the other songs, where Laura's voice cracks momentarilly where the lasting line is delivered from the chorus. This in typically humble style would probably be described by Laura as a vocal failing. This I will not accept, this is the sixth song I have now analysed, paying particular attention to the vocal performance of each. Laura contrary to what she declares in "Opinion of me" can certainly sing. The moment of her voice subsiding and breaking is a perfect one second moment of Laura's innate ability to deliver real emotion and substance through performance to a song. The losing strength of the vocal line is to me Laura being overwhelmed by the emotional theme of the song, like if someone was to witness or feel an emotion so heart wrenching that the very life is drained from within creating many physiological defects such as motor functions and the ability to speak or indeed hold a note. This is a perfect moment in music and one which cannot fail to make me reflect upon comparable personal experiences of my own. Leaving sadness clinging to my inner self but feeling somewhat empowered by the overall amazing lifting experiences that is listening to and absorbing this song.

My favourite lyrics of all those presented within these six songs is "I couldn't hold you any closer if your head was stapled to my shoulder, I squeezed your ribs until they cracked under the strain of all the love I have". These two lyrical couplets hold and identify so much, that as the song continues to grow and bulldoze my heart with its beauty and deep reaching to my inner historical turmoil, I am left with an aching but opened heart and equally in awe of the excellent songwriting.

This lasting and driving connection is also felt with the simple almost glibly provided line of "your pretty face hides the obscene". I would be quite happy to state that this lyric has no personal relevance to me, sadly this is not the case. Laura is an artist in the true sense of the word. A person who makes no efforts to shield themself from the world with it's hopes and fears and highs and lows. I feel a true sense of appreciation and almost kindred spirit in this endeavour. Her openness of existence will provide her the opportunity to taste the sweetest nectar that life can provide of an emotional elixir that should be devoured with relish. Equally there will be bitter pills to swallow. This heart on your sleeve approach to life will make these moments difficult to take, but her wisdom denying her tender years and resolve will overcome all.

Whichever direction her emotional journey make take will provide her further enrichment to her bountiful and ever developing understanding and best of all I and others will get to relish in the musical interpretations of these experiences and views. Live life to the fullest so that we may continue to enjoy the musical side effects.

So in conclusion to this review I apoligise for the lengthyness, in future I am going to attempt to remain a bit more concise in my utterances. That said I don't apologise for waxing lyrical on this music as I'm sure it's quite apparent that these songs have excited me greatly and I shall now attempt to leave this in a hopefully short and simplistic manner.

If Laura can continue to craft songs with this level of charm, wit, intelligence, accessibility and deliver them with this musical prowess and same level of earnest and honest emotion, then I can categorically state I have no need to re-evaluate any opinion of her and the pleasure to listen and witness will remain indeed gorgeous.

Stu

bitten by animals

2009-09-29T08:56:00.000-07:00

This is a review of newly recorded demos of the new acoustic music colloboration that is "Animals may bite".

I imagine like many that read this to share the sadness for the parting of Flags of the Soviet Republic, those that did not know this band truly missed a treat.

I then stumbled across a plea for another musical colloboration from my good friend and singer of said departed band. Ah if only I had more talent I would have jumped at the chance, but alas more importantly I was overjoyed by his intention to return to acoustic music. Those that know me will know that in equal measure I love loud rock music but also acoustic music, especially when either is delivered with an inventive stance and real, pure unadulterated emotion. I knew that Alan had both in swathes.

I do not wish for the record to indicate that this review is going to be in anyway unbiased. Alan may be a good friend and I may have adored his previous muscial outputs as a solo artist, with Ramonastone and Flags... All this may well be true however what will always be more true to me is my sense of conviction and principles that I can stand behind what I say and mean.

There without that out of the way I can begin this review or oh no in fact I shall for background purposes introduce the other collaborating entity that forms Animals may bite. This is of course John Graham of ex Limousine and Flags... fame. So I guess your quest to find a colloborating partner must have been really difficult Alan.

At this stage there are two songs that are self confessed as being roughly recorded on the band's myspage page (http://www.myspace.com/theseanimalsmaybite). These are entitled "The time traveller" and "Dylatov Pass". First thoughts not least did I expect that the titles alone conjure imagination and intrigue.

The Time Traveller opens with what can only be described as a delectably played enticing picking arrangement of harmonious and embracing melody that establishes a sense of soothing. If Jeff Buckley can be referred to as having a voice that could sooth a savage soul then this same superlative is seemingly extremely apt for the prestigous vocal talents of Alan Gillhespy. The lyrical content and subject is somewhat dour but the delivery and overall scope of the lyric seems to have a cathartic appeal. It seems that the protagonist of the lyrical journey is deep within an ocean of self reflection but has opened their eyes to see the flickering of glimpses of sunlight beaming into the water. They can now start to ascend through turbulent waters to reach the surface. The punctuation of the refraining "time" seems to give this further validity. In that the repetition of the old adage that time will heal will find fruition.

I found listening to this song slightly different that other acoustical offerings from Mr Gillhespy I have previously enjoyed (John I have not forgotten about you I'm getting there). The musical arrangement has more pushed towards the downbeat contemplentative moments of post rock as opposed to grunge. This in itself is not exactly hugely surprising as both Ramonastone and to a greater degree Flags of the Soviet Republic exemplified this genre in an exceptional manner and of course upon my first meeting of Alan and for a subsquent period thereafter I knew him as "Roddy" after he had elected to call himself at a mutual place of work in homage to the lead singer of Idlewild.

There is a distinctly Idlewild feel to this song but with still that sparkle of originality and poise that glimmers like the moment fog lights catch cats eyes in the road. I believe the undefinable difference that is received in this music is the aforementioned and not ignored John Graham. John's years of experience and song artistry flow out of him with consumate ease whether writing, performing or in fact and to me largely part of a fuller performer in conversation. John has quintesensual undertstanding of structure and form but couple with the same aspriational and dour emotional range of Alan to colloborate both concepts into an indulgent melting pot of delight.

The second song "Dylatov Pass" is another interesting introduction as to where this band may go. The subject matter is the mystery surrounding the still undiscovered mystery of nine ill fated Russian hikers who died in extraordinary and unexplained circumstances in 1959 on the Dylatov Pass of the Northern side of the Ural mountains. I know what you're thinking what ever happened to songs about love and loss? :) Alas I actually find the subject matter interesting as many emotions are. The unexplained mystery of the tale expertly captured in lyrics is somewhat eerie but mainly very apt. Animals may bite have a sound that on first listen is soothing and pleasant but on deeper inspection has an underlying sadness, mystery and enigmatic quality that needn't be unravelled but just enjoyed.

The music of the song switches to more etheral sound that fits the subject matter well and as with the beautiful picking arrangement of "the time traveller" the guitar work provides an acquiescent journey that is both hypnotic and spell binding. The reverb effects that refrain are left to linger in the air for a moment or two almost akin to those tortured souls on those Russian mountains. The percussion that comes in is also downbeat but serves as testament that some things go on forever and some do not.

I understand that Animals May Bite are performing their debut gig at West Coast in Blackpool on the 10th of October I urge all to attend as I have a feeling that this will be an intersting and intrguing journey to embark upon.

Coolness leaves me cold (first splurge)

2009-09-10T09:47:00.000-07:00

Hello Dear Reader,

This is I suppose my first outing in the truest sense of a blog, in that this is not an uploaded historical article, review or composed (to a degree) inclusions. This is a thought that has struck me today and that I elect to share with you.

I aim to make this a bit more focussed and brief in comparrison to other content, how succesful that will be in this splurge attempt is as yet unknown.

So the topic. Coolness, the thought of being deemed "cool" or thinking oneself as "cool". This is something that raises the heckles of my inner workings to the forefront based purely on its relation to a strongly derided observation of the modern world.

To be deemed cool or to act cool or think oneself as cool is not a new thing. Back in the fifities and perhaps the one person that springs to mind instantly, when seeking to personify coolness was of course the rebel without a cause, James Dean. James Dean to many embodies the concept of coolness and rightly so. The roles he played, his clearly abundant aesthetic appeal that existed with a tempered disgregard for authority and conformity as so common that resonates a leads to such a distinction. Jimmy Dean of course was blessed with another significant gift of those willing to achieve such an accolade; he died young. He therefore is forever held in the memory as the youthful embodiment of coolness as recalled today.

Others of notoriety that are emblazoned with the cool or legend tag also seemingly have a few traits in common. People such as John Lennon, Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix are all deemed legendary or perenially cool. This collection of people all challenged authority, pushed boundaries, had abundant talent and died young, thus cementing their reputation. After all the forebearer to this approach has still got some dedicated followers and there is debate as to whether he even existed. I shall not comment on that for now, but perhaps the best path to being deemed cool is to follow the Christ approach.

So kids if you want to go out on a Friday night and be truly perceived as cool it is quite simple. Your time should not be devoted to selecting the perfect fashion ensemble or coiffing your hair just right. Instead you should develop some talent, have some conviction, principles to which you stay true to and also if possible die at an early age.

I of course jest and I am not advocating that the youth of today, in attempting to define their sense of self should live through anihilation till death presents its comforting end.

What I do see in my travels and experiences is what to me is a false society. I truly believe this is established and continued by the modern media and perhaps society at large. The world is to me a much safer place than it used to be. Well that may not be strictly true especially if the fear mongering media is absorbed to the core. There are numerous erroneous deplorable acts that take place, what I mean by its safe nature. Is that the media presents a much greater corporate interpretation of the globalized homogenuous world to which we reside.

Any person in any town sips a Starbucks, eats a McDonalds and absorbs some of the most banal, formulaic music as promoted by vacuous television and radio presenters. Individuality seems to erode as time goes by. This saddens me, but as a person who is heavily affected by music and as music is intrinsically links into the concept of coolness, this is where my focus is guided.

I elect to not listen to music on the radio or music television and I suppose this could be deemed ignorance on my part. This is something I am entirely true and guilty of I hold my hand up, but that said this is a self defence mechanism as I find so much of modern music entirely and vehemently detestable.

I believe I may have said this before but music is confined in genres and pigeonholes and I guess that serves a point, however the only genres that really matter are music that is "real" and those that are not.

It is an easilly identifiable thing whenever you watch a performer or band, absorb the music, the arrangement and lyrics. Keenly also view the performers and ask yourself two simple questions did that feel real or contrived? And did it move me?

If the answers are yes then you have found "real" music if more likely though the asnwer is know you have been subjected to the usual unit shifting plodding dirge that fills the music output at present and seemingly for too long a time now.

This little veerance away from the concept of coolness has relevance I assure you. The music scene(s) that exist and are absorbed by the youth of today are so safe, placid and unimaginative that it is therefore impossible for people to not be affected by this banality. And it is all too often apparent to witness.

I welcome those that challenge the norm and those that push boundaries. I also more than anything welcome those who act as they truly are. That is the true sense of coolness. or perhaps put another way, people should ignite the passion that burns within them. So interestingly I suppose I am concluding that the best way to be cool is to have an all consuming burning pasison. So be yourself, don't contrive to be anything else and let the fire inside rage and then you will be cool.

Stu

Article for UKFY on the live Blackpool music scene

2009-09-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

This article first appeared in the UKFY publication around 2007. As a sidenote Jenx and the Tache are local Blackpool Indie and Rock clubs respectively.

One Man, his Dog and a Whole Lotta Rock n Roll

The Blackpool music scene as I see it is facing a choice decimation, evolution or revolution. Certainly for my own limited part as a protagonist within and more keenly as a fan, I hope it’s the latter two.

I previously talked of the massive development and growth I have witnessed since I became aware of this myriad of wealth of talent and diversity, however I along with everyone else is now faced by a series of questions. Do I or does anyone have the answers to those questions? Perhaps not, but asking questions is the road of change. Einstein once said “you cannot solve problems using the same solutions that created them.” A new or revised method of thinking is required; does Blackpool have too many bands, gigs or venues? Perhaps there is some truth to this. Blackpool certainly doesn’t have a student population to draw upon, many gigs are sparsely attended and the mainstream media largely overlook the entire music scene. So what’s the point of all the effort and cost for a gig with one man and his dog?

The answer to this question is easy. As I write this by candlelight the symbolism is so pertinent it could be scripted. Whatever doubts may creep the fact is plain and simple, on many occasions whether in conversation or on stage I have witnessed not a flicker from a candle but a roaring inferno in the eyes of those who believe, the musicians of Blackpool. We may be separated by varying levels of ability, application and style but the honest fire cannot be extinguished.
Perhaps our unfashionable location, alienation or commitment to content over style and not subscribing to the vogue of musical fashion presents an obvious obstacle. But it doesn’t have to, this is in fact a call to arms.

This article serves as my second contribution to what will hopefully continue to grow and become another great mechanism that turns the cog in the development of the of the Blackpool music scene. I would like to see the Blackpool bands website grow and reach out to others not currently involved in the scene so it can flourish further. Yes there is not a wealth of a student population in Blackpool but with a 14.7% of Blackpool’s population falling within 16-30 there is scope for further progression.

Blackpool gigs are mainly populated by the bands themselves and their close friends, whilst this loyalty is admirable and provides a firm basis of foundation to build upon. It does need building upon, acorns cannot grow into mighty oaks without nurturing.
Think of evenings spent in the Tache or Jenx there is an untapped market out there and its for the taking. It’s up to us all to wallow in self pity but reach out to these people and make Blackpool stronger.

Soon the one man and his dog won’t get into gigs as they will have to fight their way through a thriving scene that can be ours, a jubilant joyous scene fuelled purely by a

“Whole Lotta Rock n Roll!”

Article on Blackpool Music scene circa 2007

2009-09-10T09:39:00.000-07:00

This article first appeared within a publication entitled "UKFY". This was a locally based and produced fanzine of the local Blackpool music scene and I include here for posterity and your indulgence.

As a sidenote please be advised that FELCH was a Blackpool music collective that centered around more heavier and experimental music. The collective and it was just that a collective in the true sense of the word, with bands that were part of this working together in partnership in staging events and putting on gigs. The FELCH scene and collective could now be said to have disappeared but, in many respects it still exists on one form or another due to the fact that some of the bands that were members still exist today and other bands made up of members of other associated bands are still active. Anyways here it is...

Blackpool Rocks!

Any harrowed gaze upon the windblown stretch of heart-wrenching neon, with vagabonds and miscreants claiming the town’s energy does not exactly flood the heart with glee or hope for inspired musical discovery. However like the simplistic stall games that provide misgivings of simplicity and fairness the Blackpool Music scene is actually a surprising flourishing entity.
My personal and relatively short-lived involvement within the music scene has seen a blaze of development and growth flourish within this town. That is a key point to note as well. Blackpool is after all a town that is still vaguely standing on the memory of tourism, like some deluded captain going down with the ship while the water flows all around him. There is no wealth of population, multiculturalism or student population yet the musicians and all others connected don’t see this as an obstacle.

It is true attendances at gigs is not always of the highest level perhaps due to some of these reasons or perhaps for other reasons, which may be discussed at a later date, however the sheer wealth of variety in musical styles, events and more significantly quality and innovation is more significant.

When other scenes are looked at around the country in more ‘suitable’ locations whilst these scenes seem to flourish stronger than Blackpool’s they have seemingly a genre specific scene. Various cities around Britain seem to produce and develop bands that have a similar sound, but to me the best thing about the Blackpool music scene is perhaps in a hark back to the good old days of Blackpool is quite literally it’s variety.

The Felch scene continues to thrive and pick up new devotees and members like an avalanche gaining momentum, there is also a thriving Indie scene with many other notable highpoints of bands and artists falling somewhere sound wise in the middle, but certainly not representing the MOR. Almost every musical genre is represented or referenced with respect and ingenuity. Blackpool truly possesses some of the most varied, impassioned musicians and bands equal to any other regional collective.

Perhaps the despair of residing in a dead end town ignites the heart and soul to strive for more or to be fully aware of your place and not be satisfied. Whatever the reasoning Blackpool Rocks!

Gig Review - Independence Day West Coast Blackpool

2009-08-04T13:42:00.000-07:00

Before I enter into this review I must ensure I fully commit myself to the knowledge that this is a review of an evening’s entertainment at West Coast and not a personal blog or other referenced outlet for my lengthy discourses and diatribes. This statement has now been made, however how well I adhere to this remains at the mercy of the flow of dialogue from the recesses of my subconscious through recollection and whimsy.

I shall therefore refrain from any attempts to reveal lengthy explanations of my current mindscape, misadventures or other acts of malevolence. I shall leave it with the precursors to this evening as I was reeling from a quite hefty session, such that my body is no longer exposed to and found the generation of enthusiasm that had been stored in earnest for my attendance to this evening of musical delight waning somewhat. I attempted to varying degrees of success to rejuvenate excitement and gusto through the medium of “topping up”, but seemingly it was the duel combination of a fair turnout of many of Blackpool’s most interesting of people and the musical delights on show that produced best results in reinvigorating my general sense of self.

Due to my aforementioned tender state I arrived at West Coast just as the Dropout Wives had started. The last time I saw a gig that contained members of this band was a Sideshow Sirens gig many moons ago at the Royal Oak is cerebral manifestations hold true. I’m never sure what to expect when witnessing a band that contains the self proclaimed (and rightly so troubadour of the “non existent” Blackpool scene” that is Giles aka Mr Stormy Weathers. One thing that is guaranteed usually is a spectacle. The very nature of the unknown offers excitement and interest before a note is played. I suppose if I was to be honest and let’s face it I usually am (often to a fault) I would say that the one thing that I wasn’t expecting was what I witnessed.

The Dropout Wives as a genuinely perfect symbiotic calculation of its parts provide a garage rock sound that appears to draw influence from in my estimation the Detroit sound that bore it, but perhaps most surprisingly of all this is all performed in a very tight and focussed manner. Words such as “tight” and “focussed” are not what one associates with Giles usually but honesty again has to prevail. There was an exceptional balance of the slightly more avant garde musical escapades interspersed with really all most dogged driving riff based rock. It felt somewhat hypnotic at times where the listener is coaxed gently and shaken roughly into coming along for the ride. The bass grooves and Dan’s perfectly balanced drumming that would appeal to Robert Southey and his premise of “just right”. This perfectly laden groove driven out further by the well focussed riffage and additional complimentary guitar work along an acquiescent journey of delight that no-one could refuse but to indulge in heavily and scream with gusto Oliver’s refrain.

The dropout wives set was perfectly complimented by the pure comical talents of Giles, which often produced the result and effect I think he often strives for upon the audience, of simultaneous delight and also the questioning of “did he really just say that”. I wish to make it clear though kind listener that a Dropout Wives gig is not a Giles gig. The very reason why the Dropout Wives work so well is that they all seem to connect and thrive on one another, providing a unified spirit that Alexendre Dumas would be proud of. This collective musical family which I suppose is born from the admirable extended value that was/is? the Felch collective. This eternal spirit of hard rocking was in evidence on this evening with guest appearances from Ligget from CSOD and the irrepressible Joey Class of previous incarnation, The Sideshow Sirens and Senton Bombs. This additional input added some further sparkle to an impressive show. To further enhance that the Dropout Wives are a perfect ensemble my personal highlight of the evening was Lola’s most impressive vocals, as exemplified most notably on their take on the Monkees hit “Stepping Stone”. So you all may indeed not be my stepping stone, but damn it your rock hard and true.

After the usual respite that is provided by the changing over of bands, Oz in his one time incarnation as Casper… er actually don’t recall his full adopted moniker for this occasion, but suffice to say he was wearing a somewhat dodgy wig, clean shaven, spouting humorous American style ranting and quaffing in the face of conformity and predilection of irregularity.

Then without further ado Goonies never say die took the stage, or should I say Gremlins never say die. Perhaps they are Goonies with a keyboardist and Gremlins without. That said to be perfectly honest I didn’t realise there keyboardist wasn’t there until Barry announced part way in. It has been an inordinate time since I have seen Goonies play and I plain forgot they had a keyboard player, but I don’t think for one second their sound suffered at all. I spent the vast majority of this performance fully engrossed, whilst the performance of the Dropout Wives as stated had an almost hypnotic pull; Goonies seem to progress this to another level. The blend of epic soundscapes coupled with a fire and intensity that would rank alongside any prose assembled by Dante’s discourses.

It is quite frankly an obvious statement to make that a review of an instrumental band could be further enhanced by the addition of a vocalist, but there is distinction that should be made here. Not long before this gig I saw Codes in the Clouds at the Blue Room and was heartily impressed with their performance. Their music was really engrossing and captured an interesting vibe brilliantly juxtaposing the quiet/loud dynamic. I have digressed slightly but my intention for this meandering away from the subject was to state that Codes in the Clouds are an excellent instrumental band; Goonies are too however I feel the composition of their songs lends itself more to the inclusion of lyrics and vocal performance. It is fair to say that a person such as I who holds Dylan in such high esteem and quite obviously indulges heavily in as Roland Barthes would’ve described the “la plaisir du texte” or pleasure of the text. Words mean an inordinate amount to me and I cherish them and all that they bring to our minds, hearts and souls. However my interlude into the joy of Codes in the Clouds is a demonstration of my joy of music and how variant modes and off kilter scales and beats can speak a language of their own. In fact I would progress that view further in that music is by definition a language and a perfect beautiful example of one at that. Given that language can take many forms and posses an array of motives, language through music transcends the ordinary and veers to topics that resonate most significantly to us all that to me is emotion. If words are our tool to direct, instruct and explain then emotion is the driving internal instructional force we have that our varying levels of vocabulary and understanding battle with in explanation. Music bereft of words makes the journey less obvious but also more simplistic. Where beautifully formed notes oscillating through a myriad of guitar effects are left to hang in the air for just that extra second, before the welcoming squeal, snarl and grunt of distortion, heavy crescendos of drums and driving bass line grooves shout the story with pure visceral intent to all those witnessing this. This is a story told if ever there was one. So for the inclusion of lyrics and vocal lines, would this sully and diminish the story. This makes me think of the old adage that a piece of art is never finished only abandoned, evoking the notion that sentiment that to the nth degree leaves only a black piece of paper. So there is less more perhaps, often this is the case. I think this is why I preferred the lack of keyboards and the melodic and harmony structures being provided by the steady work of Simon Morgan and Barry performing in only the way he can. Barry’s physical and musical performance itself could be enough to remove the need for any emotional lyrical discourse. Pain, anguish, angst, joy and confusion all seem evident in the guitar lines and physical enthusiasm.

However all this said the structuring of the songs helped perfectly by the great bass grooves and octopus style drumming of Kerr still to me lean to the opportunity for a verse or chorus refrain. Some songs and some musicians use lyrics as a focus, some use music. I still feel music should definitively be the focus but perhaps another dimension should be added. I even found snippets of lyric lines forming in my mind as the music progressed and evoked different walls of sound and delight.
All in all a great performance and I will try not to leave as long till next I see them.

If it has been a long time since I saw Goonies, that pales into comparison and feels infinitesimally close in relativity considering the time I saw the next band last. The Locals crashed onto the Blackpool music scene with bravado, teenage angst and bullish rebellion. This courted essentially two responses from people; either an annoyance or tedium that attitude in this manner has been done by the Gallagher’s many moons ago or a warm smile and encouragement of somebody trying to break up the banality. I suppose if I had to select a camp in which to pitch my tent of opinion it would be the latter. This may be in part due to the fact that I’ve never had any problem on a personal level with them. They have always been appreciative and pleasant with me as though some unspoken kinship existed that neither of us have ever commented on but fuels a mutual respect and level of camaraderie.

Musically they always appealed to me, many would issue critique with the all too familiar opinion of criticism of wearing their influences too visibly. It’s true I would say at the outset they sounded a little too close to the Arctic Monkeys and The Libertines. On a personal level I like the Libertines and don’t mind the Arctic Monkeys but wanted to see a little more of them. I would never apply to much sway to this opinion as I saw them as young people finding themselves. Who doesn’t have an identity crisis at the age of 16, I’m eleven years on and I still constantly question myself. Mind you the day I stop will either be the day of my eventual demise or worse that I’ve fallen into banality and acceptance of the status quo.

So back to this night it had been years since I last saw the Locals play and I was looking forward to this recalling that their appeared an upward spike on the last few occasions I had seen them years earlier, coupled with many positive things I had heard about them in the development and growth.

The first thing that struck me when they opened their set is that I knows truly felt I was watching a Locals gig as opposed to some young guys full of talent and spirit trying to find themselves through their influences. This appealed to me greatly, their competence as musicians included in this statement are the new members they’ve accumulated over time provides a tight but fire ridden tour de force of a young man’s views in 21st century Britain. In the past I along with many other (it wasn’t great foresight I know) opined that the Locals had that “in” sound that could do well. “In” sound I’m sorry I outright apologise for such cliché lazy work, what I meant to say is that their sound is akin to stylised genres that are seemingly gathering momentum and garnering success in the current climate. Perhaps this adoption of style could be deemed a calculated move and if that were the case, well I wouldn’t be writing anything positive right now. I don’t believe for one second it is, I feel that witnessing a Locals performance tells the story right there and then. They mean what they say and a lot of what they say is mean, but then again so is life most of the time so this seems perfectly acceptable. As stated they have flourished musically and created a sound that is more recognisable and definable as their own. The still clearly wear their influences on their proverbial musical sleeves (were Fred Perry polo shirts to have sleevesJ) but they is something that is hard to put one’s finger on that has created a distinction that stands out now. Coleman Local’s voice has definitely come of age and it is understandable why he has effectively taken the lead in the vocal stakes. Not to say that Charlie’s voice is in anyway weak, if fact the song that I recall him singing was a great vocal delivery, but to me his vocal are better suited to added that extra level of harmony that they capture to gratifying effect and also to concentrate on carving on the licks and hooks that his guitar adds to the overall ensemble. I think the highlight for me may well have been a song called something like “can’t explain” or certainly words to that effect. This along with many others had the words, if you can forgive the erroneous hospital DJ style description of, “hit” all over it. This was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

Next up after a further interlude from Oz’s cameo where he quite spectacularly removed all disguising paraphernalia in a tirade of abuse ridden rant comically positioned at many of his former bandmates, was indeed those people.

Of late I have seen Mauser perform on a number of occasions and reviewed them in high praiseworthy deserving celebratory fashion. I’m fully aware that I have gone a bit and hope that through this review I’ve remained as much as possible on topic. I hope that the standard and almost expectant digressions I’ve employed haven’t been too irksome and if in fact any of you have read this all the way through, thank you and I shall try and keep this briefer from this point on.
As I have said I have seen and reviewed Mauser a bit of late, so I don’t feel the need to divulge in too much detail here.

The audience had dwindled somewhat by this point, which is sad. I know people have a tendency to become restless and feel the need to seek out something else, if only to fulfil the “grass is greener” concept. Grass isn’t greener except where there is a higher concentration of chlorophyll and thus a higher amount of photosynthesis. But Blackpool town centre is largely bereft of any grass and I doubt the levels of chlorophyll would really fluctuate that much. Oops I’m drifting again. Anyways maybe it’s my tendency of if I have a night off I have a concept of making the most of it and watching all bands even those I don’t really like, but alas for whatever combination of reasons the attendance dropped a bit. One thing that is for sure this can’t be due to the quality of the band about to perform. Mauser are easily one of the premium bands in this our fair town. I personally rank them alongside Flags of…. As my joint favourite, I don’t wish to appear subjective now, as of course objectivity is the name of the game here but they seem highly praised by many others also. I think one of the things that helps shape their cross genre appeal is that they perfectly balance melody, harmony, pop structuring with grungy heavy undertones that is therefore by its very nature bound to entice in many a type of prospective attendee. They also don’t in any way take themselves too seriously and clearly have fun which as a viewer to this it is impossible to not feel drawn into as much as one might try to resist.
They performed a new song of which the title I cannot recall, but it was very good that I do now. Some of the other more familiar stuff was executed well and I was glad to see that “the ballad of Steve” was once again performed in a tuneful and “in time” manner as opposed to last time that song got an airing J
I think I have seen better Mauser performances but that is not to say this was bad in any way, they truly rocked and created that spine tingly moments that all the greats do. It was an awesome end to an awesome evening, sad that the Winter Gardens didn’t burn down, but when so much fire and intensity is on at an upper level of a club nearby those flames and ignition are bound to spread out and hit other combustibles.

Truly the founding fathers were served well by all bands this evening and an awesome night that was predicted was fully executed and delivered.

Stu

Gig Review - Mauser, Shelley Between Shoehorns and Inflight Recorder 05/06/09

2009-08-04T13:33:00.000-07:00

This first appeared as a review on local blackpool music forum www.blackpoolbands.co.uk if anyone is interested in the Blackpool music scene perhaps in fact indeed the best place to start.

As stated here is the full review of the opening night of newly initiated primetime events @ the Oxford. After a weekend of work and failed bicycle repair has washed over my very being, I find myself in a position to collect my thoughts and engorge verbatim over sights, sounds and experience.

My evening started with a little developed angst I had made furtive efforts to repair and reinstate leg powered mobility to an incomplete effect. So faced with hands full of bike grease and perhaps heightened machismo further underpinned by a general state of failure I washed up and headed for the Oxford, sadly on foot. I stopped off on the way to purchase a malted hops concoction for the journey and journeyed with gusto. I doubt your interest in this review progresses to my developed internal analysis and position on the consumption of fermented beverages, but suffice to say new rules have been inwardly addressed and applied. That said as I was aware that I would be working a very busy celebration of two people’s embarkation into the journey of matrimony at a restaurant of real quality in Thornton region of the Fylde. This had created a caution within me that progressed to the foresight of setting a reminder to cease further alcoholic consumption. This caution was later somewhat thrown to the wind but perhaps the musical presentations of the evening created the disdain for the sane, controlled and safe.

My preceding angst soon departed at the welcome of friendly faces of personal historic alignment often defined as friendship and introductions or concretification, if there is such a word and if not I choose this moment to christen it befitting as it is, of new and establishing connections. Such friendly interactions varied in reality of whimsical conversations, recollection of progressive emotional states and rather amusingly the donning (pun firmly intended) of apparel of head attire that photographic evidence clearly prove to be defined as nothing other than camp but fun. After these instances of merriment had progressed, I recognised that my botched attempts at practical rectification of the mechanical had delayed my arrival and thus I quickly became aware of the musical proceedings underway.

Shelley between shoehorns were underway and duly my attention turned to their performance. Sean’s estimation of them being “grunge but sorta not” confused as it may appear is largely accurate. There was a presence of circa early nineties Seattle styled riffs which in my estimation is not a negative distinction whatsoever. There perhaps was a more progressive or should that be modernised influence offering an undercurrent to musical styling that reared its inquisitive head from time to time. For a band that seemingly are quite young and bludgeoning their initial contribution to the apparently non existent “scene” of Blackpool, they did this very well. They had interesting and provocative styling’s to their grunge laden tunes. The singer portrayed a charismatic appeal through that generation x ensemble of the apathetical and the impassioned. He did offer a smile perhaps to frequently for a true introspective temperate soul, but this is really me quaffing at the manner of many who take themselves too seriously and in no way is this a criticism. Life is about happiness that may on occasion have to rise on occasion like the proverbial phoenix from the flames of sorrow or disdain and any affirmation of the youthful example of joy should never be shunned, questioned or chastised. There was a certain rawness that fused well with a reasonably tight sound from this outfit. In summary this band were enjoyable and worthy of further inspection as occasion may arise, where an instinctive belief is that musical appreciation will grow through exposure to this. All in all an interesting first introduction to these chaps that receives this virtual thumbs up.

The next band that took to the stage was inflight recorder. This band serves as a living embodiment and testament to the adage of not judging a book by its cover. As they took to the stage the styling’s of the members created a stereotypical perception that didn’t apply to their music. I admit to being guilty of submerging myself within this stereotype. The guitarist and singer were adorned in check shirts and attire that indicated a musical deliverance likely that would meet genre descriptions such ranging from indie to alternative perhaps pushing to grunge. The bass player wearing a Metallica t shirt with somewhat understandable pride created an obvious image assessment. My location and the architecture of the Oxford diminished any judgement to be made regarding the drummer, however reduction in further progressing mental alignment to stereotypes is perhaps a wise matter, if only the voting public of Burnley could be as enlightened.

Anyway certainly not for the first or last time I digress. The music produced by Inflight Recorder could be pigeonholed into genres bordering on classic rock. Perhaps the accurate delivery of riffs and soundscapes, laden with classy riffs created this instant mental assessment of the musical offerings. The music of Inflight Recorder was nonetheless pleasing and enjoyable, having been subjected to varying qualities of cover bands in my day; Inflight Recorder associated this thoughts within me. I wish to make it clear that under no circumstances did I find Inflight Recorder uninspired or unoriginal. The slick and stylish method in which their tunes were presented was not clinical and I wish to firmly address this so that a reader of this does not fall into the pitfalls of discriminatory of stereotyping that I ashamedly indulged on first sight. The music was engaging and multifaceted in its make up and drive. There were occasions of that best of all acts where a listen to a song created a feeling of the recollection. Or put another way a first listen to a song creates the notion of having heard it before, not again I stress due to any plagiaristic intent but purely due to a high standard of execution and arrangement.

Before Mauser began their set, I had overheard a conversation between two people outside; I believe one of them was from the first band. They were discussing the quality of Mauser with pending excitement. I refrained from joining in this conversation (I know a rariety ), but hearing of discussions between people whom I do not know opining towards the positive over musical outfits I too share a passion for made me smile. I later took the opportunity to offer a glance in the direction of those two protagonists in the midst of the Mauser set and their reactions of laughter, merriment and the acquiescent pull towards hefty appreciation was self evident. This summed up the performance to me. My original intended self imposed alcohol curfew had no surpassed but alas I found a rum and coke in my hand, however this seemed fitting on an evening of looseness and joy.

Mauser took to the stage, with Donny jean less which if anyone ever didn’t really need the benefit of being looser and freer perhaps that distinction could be levelled without even the mildest leaning of understatement.

The set began with that “numbers” song which is a somewhat perfect introduction to the band that is Mauser. A tightness of sound, harmonising and quality duelling/complimentary guitar work which orbits an almost farcical lyrical concept, however it is difficult to not feel excited and pleased by this tune. The set progressed offering better known (well to anyone wise enough to download the demo) numbers offering another sumptuous deliverance of “Heroine” and “the ballad of Steve” which I avidly absorbed for personal reasons (incidentally in case my manners didn’t apply accordingly in conversation cheers Tommy ). Other less known to me musical treats were interspersed with vigour and fun. These “other” songs as I currently refer to them are fast developing an impact on my memory and enjoyment. A highlight of this was as yet I’m unsure to its title, but the song that Dalton referred to in the either the preparation or review of the sumptuously fantastic celebration of the non existent scene of Blackpool that was the north by north west festival, as the one where Shaun and Chris sing a word each. This is truly an exceptional song that fits snugly in the overall offering of aural delight that transcending on what was sadly perhaps not a fully attended gig as was befitting the quality on show.

During the set closer that is “the embedded screwdriver” as on other regular occurrences of the evening’s performance, Donny’s garment freer outlook seemed to have somewhat critical comedic timing on his “antics” to the celebrated better. Maybe the camp sight of me earlier had this impact more so than the lack of denim, who could say . Drumsticks flourish flaring is always an enjoyable visual site, especially at the sight of “big Chris” begrudgingly bending down regularly from lofty heights to pass drum sticks back.

Where Sean may refer to the performance as sloppy and shambolic, my assessment at the time that still holds sway in my thoughts as applied to Pareto’s law. As in this instance the 80/20 principle applies to the majority of quality of performance, technique and song writing with the lesser applying to the simply and plainly put “fun”. Witnessing a Mauser gig is vastly attracting a sentiment whereby the listener will be subjected to a heady performance laden with riffs of the highest calibre forcing the mind to both the toe/head tapping drive of the heavy sound of a tune such as “Heroine” to the more straightforwardly melodious enticement of other songs, to which “the ballad of Steve” flies the flag high and proud. Attendance to a Mauser gig also promises and never seems to fail to deliver enjoyment and delight.

This perhaps befittingly was a collective stream that threaded the evening. The evening’s ensemble of bands produced high quality riffage and driving rock n roll, varying around the foot stomper drive to the introspective contemplative malaise of question. There was however pleasingly a sense of fun throughout and after all, for music to be good and certainly for music to be great to me it should highlight and echo emotions or varying states. Music that serves up soundtracks to your lives whether indelibly defining tawdry or shaky emotional states or igniting primal fires of celebration is truly the testament or real review of the good or the bad.

My evening continued in this manner venturing into town later and meeting up with many old friends for pleasing nostalgia coupled the delight of hanging around with others. All in all a good night. Sorry for going on a bit, but to be fair if anyone starts to read a review that has me identified as the author they are either uninitiated or foolhardy to not assume that a wealth of language will be used ha ha.

Stu

Lupus in Fabula 2000-2007 Rest in Peace carried to my Soul

2009-08-04T11:54:00.000-07:00

To advise this article first appeared as a well I suppose an epilogue to one of the truly great but sadly departed Blackpool bands in a local fanzine that existed some time ago called “UKFY”. I’m in the process of tracking down other material I submitted to that publication and if and when sourced will also upload.

This is a deeply saddening article to write, my joy and appreciation of this band is not exactly hidden. I believe the sad impact of this is not just felt by myself and other fans, but is a slightly negative indictment of the current scene as a whole. Music is an extremely subjective world fuelled by heavy duty passion. Not every band is going to appeal to everyone and differing musical styles will always divide taste, however this band grew and developed greatly over their time. In many respects they didn’t really fulfil the potential they had as is seemingly sadly so true of many great Blackpool bands.
Lupus over their journey tasted relative success on a smallish local scale. They won a battle of the bands competition, cemented a strong reputation and following in the local scene and reached out further a field with successful performances in Liverpool, Manchester and London. However that elusive record deal all bands pursue with focus always seemed just out of reach.
Lupus in Fabula had an initial stinted beginning with line-up changes however its five members were soon settled. The greatest strength of this band was the fusion of varying styles, with a duel guitar housing of classic blues and grunge, welded together with incendiary rhythms and grooves provided the majestic lyrics and melodies of frontman Allan with the fitting backdrop they required.
Thunderous beats inspired by both Led Zeppelin and the Prodigy; combined with bass grooves inspired by many greats such as my personally much endorsed Bob Dylan, establishes an admirable ensemble as could be pre-designed. However idealistic design is one thing, but great music or art is not painted by numbers instead, as to follow the art analogy. Dali didn’t combine mystical symbolism with abstract idealism by design to fulfil a pre-ordained path to commercial success or bow to the status quo. Nor did Pollock in seemingly his efforts to literally throw paint till it stuck, any of the artistic greats did not create an ideal based upon a pursuit of contrived populist approval. Instead they let the guiding light from within show the way. Lupus in Fabula could be said to have done just that. Listing influences such as Led Zepp, the Doors, the Police, Free, Nirvana, and the Chillis to name but a few. This iconic melting pot reads like a who’s who of legendary greats.
In simple response to the question of memories of this band, I would list numerous highlights as my own personal experiences. Significant was the joy of countless excursions further afield, the countless times of chest thumping joy of ecstatic euphoria of truly inspired rock anthems reverberating within my very soul.
To pick one truest memory of real joy would be the personal experience of first listening to Lupus in a shabby kitchen in Blackpool where I once resided. Not knowing what to expect of the Blackpool scene in general, not having been exposed to it at that time, or of a completely unknown band in general. I relished in the experience that many of us to one degree or another feel. A truly instant thunderous connection. Though in fact in relative terms those demos were not recorded to the highest of standards, Songs such as “Caravan Queen”, “LSD”, “Dream Ghost” and my all time personal favourite Lupus song “Time” rang out. And like any great art can do I was transcended. No longer was my mind affected by the menial task of scrubbing pans or wondering if my questionable culinary creation would be disturbed in crossing a hallway to my room by my over-bearing, pungent and not to fulfil a cliché alcoholic Irish neighbour with his many psychoses. But instead my heart, mind and soul were elevated to a higher plain.
Lupus’s strength to me was always twofold. They were all individually accomplished musicians but most effective together, but added to that they had simply great songs. Their recent offerings were, although technically now not true, further moments of optimism. The developed Lupus of recent times capable of producing such affecting songs as “Black Rose”, “Never turn away” and “Egyptian Sun”. Seemed to paint a positive picture for the future but alas no.
As I stated my all time favourite Lupus song is “Time” for reasons I could not include here unless an entire thesis on my philosophical leanings as transposed to the condensation of a few verses and a chorus is the required area to digress into. Sensing it isn’t instead I’ll conclude with comment upon the other two truly great songs that were of huge importance to me and in my opinion iconic inclusions to the ever developing pantheon of celebrated local musical treasures, namely “Breath of the sun” and “Ugly Duckling”. These two songs share a link in that I can kinda play them both. No only kidding. I appreciate them greatly as musical entities in their own rights. I admire profusely the passionate and genuineness of the delivery of the entire band not least of all frontman Allan. But the link personally they share the most to me is that they both moved me significantly at various times. As onlookers revelled in the interesting and quirky video directed by my good friend Alan Gillhespy for “Breath of the sun”, I was thankful the cinema was dark enough to hide my tears flowing at this exact moment for personal reasons I’ll leave to a brown leather couch and someone charging me inordinate amounts of money which to be fair is probably heartedly required. This is stu’s styling on the great band that Lupus was so I’ll return to that.
A similar tale can be provided for the aforementioned “Ugly duckling”. Whilst this is a celebration of all that Lupus was and not my personal cries of pain and emotion, in effect it is the same thing. A band in my mind is truly considered great when their songs either directly link to significant moments in our lives or kinda form the soundtrack to our highs and lows or sometimes indeed represent the catalyst of this. So I’ll conclude in saying now departed Lupus in Fabula, “I feel just like the foolish fucking ugly duckling of love. But hey at least I had saw and had some fun and took a huge breath of the sun. Will be sorely missed.

Stu

Please allow me to introduce myself...

2009-08-03T19:29:00.000-07:00

Hello Dear World,

I suppose the best place to start is with an introduction of myself. To those that know me apologies if this is information that is redundant and already known to you already, for those that don't perhaps these words can provide some insight into me and what I aim to achieve with this blog.

My name is Stu and I'm currently a 27 year old man living in a dilapidated seaside town in the North West of England called Blackpool. Blackpool is an extremely inspiring place, in that it inspires you to succeed in the standard and conformist sense of the word to prosper and leave.

Blackpool was once a thriving town built off a very successful tourism industry, but numerous reasons have conspired together to leave it as desolate, diminished despair ridden, depressing in fact any adjective or superlative you would care to throw at it and not exclusive as in this case to the alliteration of the letter “d”. There was some potential in recent years to see some major investment and growth and prosperity return to these shores in view of the relaxed UK gambling laws and the creation of super casinos. Blackpool lost out in this to East Manchester and thus the hope of investment therein. Sporadic investment still seems to have found some well foundation. The seafront has been rejuvenated by recent developments to varying levels of acceptance and taste. In addition to this the town centre has seemingly awoken to some apocalyptical dystopian nightmare that perhaps depicts the fuller at least aesthetical realisation of some warped Orwellian nightmare.

So ok I reside in a less than inspiring place that doesn’t readily afford opportunities across the broad spectrum of life; be it career progression, worthwhile financial remuneration, artistic endeavour or any leaning toward a modern day interpretation of Wilde’s artistic bohemian movement.

If I venture slightly way from the focus of revealing my inner and outer self to you kind reader I wish to veer slightly into the psychological minefield of the “nature versus nurture” debate. A minefield so complex and heavy laden that the best combinations of the late Princess Diana, ex spice girl Geri Halliwell or actress Angelina Jolie could not generate enough “goodwill” to traverse safely through. So if the collective of a “Queen of Hearts”, a vacuous talentless drone or perfect embodiment and personification of modern “celebrity” or a pouty Amazonian actress can’t resolve this issue, where does that leave I? Well maybe the empirical “British” attitude of effort, “the taking part that counts” springs to mind in that I can but try.

I think in attempt which I’m entirely sure will inevitably fail to keep this briefer I’ll leave this for another discussion and merely include the great comment by Psychologist Donald Hebb who answered a query of whether nature or nurture contributed more to personality with “which contributes more to the area of a rectangle its length or width.”
To quote Nick Hornby from the book High Fidelity “it’s not what you’re like but what you like” that defines us shapes us and reveals a great deal about individual psyche and disposition. This is indeed an interesting premise, so forget any kind of psychometric testing or behavioural or cognitive analysis on the dissection of people, and instead focus on what music, art, film or any taxonomy of entity of media entertainment and indeed culture that a person identifies as to their very choosing. The very concept of stereotyping and if I may unfortunately use the ugly bastardised phrase “pigeon holing” to me is the very expression of abhorrence and result in a truly angered venting spleen. The planet has somewhere in the region of 6 billion hearts beating pumping blood and delivering vastly variant emotions, thoughts and feelings. The very concept of grouping us together into cliques and perhaps an even worse view frequented by the fiscal focused marketeers of the world; “target markets” is an atrocity of the variant splendour that the world and the human race can offer. That said it has it place and is a firm fixture of our daily lives. No matter how liberal a person’s persuasion falling into these pitfalls is inevitable.

Stereotyping is an awful act and can lead to significantly diminutive prejudice that we often bestow on one another. In a sense I would opine that this concept is an act of self defence. The old adage that people fear change and hate what they don’t understand is still prevalent in a supposed advanced progressive society. That said if I could offer an example perhaps to slightly support some application of this concept. Question yourself is a group of associated youths adorned in various hip hop influenced fashion loitering in darkened streets all likely to be knife wielding embodiments of the scourge or decay of a broken society who at best will only pilfer any worthwhile possession you may be fortunate to temporally own before you enter their territorial domain or at worst slaughter you in cold blood. After all they are so ingrained with violent computer games, “street” music and culture that they can do nothing but acquiesce to these very acts. Quite obviously no no for the love of all that is sensible NO! Statistically this is not true and if anything a perfect example of a pertinent example of stereotyping in action, however conversely if you have an option to choose an alternative route to your desired direction perhaps prudence could be exercised, hence the self defence concept. I suppose this doesn’t offer a clear and distinct answer or view. I perhaps should take this opportunity to advise that my very meandering views and whimsical notions vary around the clear and distinctive view and also more towards the open invitation to debate, discussion or awareness. I do not define myself as some sort of messianic leader with answers to all of life’s questions. Any such person who would advocate such a position would certainly not garner any of my attention or interest and I’m sure as an open minded and aware person we share this stance. My I supposed liberal leanings instinctively push me away from the notion of a dictatorial instructive direction of views enforced upon the receptive listener, so probably best not to expect this.
I was until this little detour introducing myself to you and have found myself swirling in a whirlpool of debate over seemingly distant concepts and views. This I must confess is perhaps something you can expect with regularity. My mind is often skittish perhaps akin to the child who cannot play with the same toy for more than a few moments until attention is pulled with force of a powerful electromagnet to a new indulgence. I choose not to apologise for this. I am who I am and whilst you may not appreciate or accept this that is entirely your right, however if this whimsical intrusions to the salient point don’t disappoint or upset you too much I happily welcome you to continue in your most appreciated indulgence into my varied assertions to you.
One thing I do always attempt to do with varying degrees of success is ensure that any variant digression I have indulged in has had some worthwhile support and inclusion to the origin of my thoughts and somewhere near the original point return once more.

So yes the concept of stereotyping and mass crude rudimentary of people is entirely negative to me albeit with an understandable application on occasion it does support Hornby’s theory of “what you like” as that indication of “what you’re [really] like”

So then what do I like? Well like many I suppose the entertainment, arts and culture ignite delight in me. Sounds logical really that a person would be predisposed to the concept of entertainment, so without beating the rug of being too obvious I’ll apply some further distinction. Music is entirely of critical importance to me. Music to coin the cliché statement provides the soundtrack to our lives and perhaps this is the thread that Hornby was pulling at. A person’s choice of favoured music that forms that selected playlist of their life could give a fair indication to the type of person they are. So let’s explore some of these examples. A person who heavily favours the music that resides within the genre description of hard rock, or metal or whatever further sub genre classification or box you choose to elect as preference whether that be mathcore, death metal or grindcore, could be found to adopt the following traits and indicate something like this existence.
Music of this nature is clearly by its very nature hard in content, soundscapes and phrasing. It has it could be said and instinctive reaction to the innocent bystander as it were to cause offense or segregate starkly appreciative audiences or condemners alike just like the tagline of that famous of yeast extracted based spreads.
Lyrically music of this nature tends to revolve around a number of usually recurring themes of apocalyptical nightmares or other tawdry acts of more seemingly introspective personal disdain. So does this follow suit that those that offer an interest towards this style of music have an alienated disaffected view of the world and seek solace from a musical form that appears to empathise with their own sense of personal angst? Well yes perhaps but this is also entirely true of people who elect preference for dance orientated music. The simple fact in my estimation is that its wrong to apply sweeping statements of understanding of people from elected preferences of media whether it be music or film or whatever. There may be some foundation in this and it may serve as watermark of intention and reality, however my strongest belief is that the world in which we all reside within offers a variety of choices, people and belief structures. The best advice on this topic I could offer would be understand that there is a wealth of flavours on offer and grab a big spoon and indulge. Perhaps at times the use of pigeon-holed classifications of people serves a purpose. If in conversation with someone whether this be through the pursuit of romantic endeavour or just general social interaction commonality is important and will enrich your collective experiences, but still open your eyes. Some of the best experiences that life has to offer are the surprise or the unknown defeat of narrow minded expectation. So dear reader open your eyes, grab a spoon and gorge yourself readily on the world and its many splendid fruits; namely in my opinion its inhabitants and their potential interactions with you.

If I may return to topic even if just for a brief moment, I will provide some insight to you that are if you persistent in making pre-determined judgement on an individual by selected preferences.

To provide a demonstration to my musical preferences I shall provide what I suppose has been my timeline or evolution. At a young age as often is the case to seek approval and validation I spent my early formative years socialising with people who were older than me through the merest link of my geographical residence. Sometimes the most tenuous of links is all that is needed. My next door neighbours and friends were developing their interest in what is regarded as stated as heavy metal and many other sub genres associated such as grunge and glam metal as well straightforward heavier music more akin to the description of thrash metal. So bands that appealed to me at the tender age of 8-11 could form a list containing but not exclusive to; Metallica, Megadeth, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Motley Crue, Poison, Suicidal Tendencies, Anthrax, Skid Row, Dangerous Toys and Warrior Soul. This is perhaps some of the highlights but not a definitive list. As my age progressed and my social interactions expanded I for a brief moment perhaps in a quite regrettable attempt to for want of a better description “fit in” I began listening to the pop music of the years of circa 1993. My love and urge to rock had not dissipidated but was further “enhanced”… hmm yes perhaps enhanced by a keenness for melody and structure.

As I entered my early teens bands such as Nirvana and the Chillis were still absorbed into my psyche but had been accompanied by the more straightforward indie rock and roll of the day. This being the birth of the “Britpop” movement included various bands such as the obvious Oasis, Blur, Ocean Colour Scene et al. At this point my mind had truly started to evolve into the ceaseless quest for more that it is today. So I was not content to listen to bands of the moment as it was and sought to trace back the origins of these bands into yesteryear. This musical quest absorbed various bands and genres such as the obvious Beatles, Stones, Hendrix, and Doors etc.

Through investigations into the Beatles bore me perhaps my most profound and greatest of musical discoveries, a man from Duluth, Minnesota who entered the music scene in Greenwich Village circa 1961 namely Bob Dylan. Bob Dylan had an entirely significant effect on me. Dylan through obviously one of the most extensive songbooks of largely optimum quality moves from the world of “protest” music, a key thing for a liberal minded teenager finding his place in society and constantly seeking to question what seems so blatantly wrong with the world. Especially considering the witness of the majority of the proles seem to blindly accept without even a moment’s thought or eye raised from the mind numbing distractions of 90s Britain. Dylan also had the ability to perfectly capture emotion of life and love and could conjure vivid poetic imagery with expert ease. “A hard Rains A-Gonna Fall” and of course “Hey Mr Tambourine Man” being notable examples. One of my favourite comments is the view that whilst the Beatles sing “I wanna hold your hand” Dylan opines “to dance beneath the diamond sky with one arm waving free silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circle sands with all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves let me forget about today until tomorrow” Ah pure bliss I feel that Dylan may crop up a few times in the future of the blogs, blessays and general utterances that will find there way onto this blog site. The discovery of Dylan as is the way of musical discovery has led me to many other great musicians and performers not exclusive to but certainly including Neil Young, Donovan, Robert Johnson, Leadbelly, Ralph McTell and Richard Thomson.

Some of my friends exposed me to the American music of Hip Hop specifically that of the “Gangsta” variety. A lot of this music drops off me without having had any impact but some of it resonated with me. I foresee the earnest honest performed examples of this music not that it doesn’t have some issues and things I can’t get on board with to be a modern version of punk music. Its visceral honest nature can appeal to me through performers such as Ice Cube and certainly his first incarnation with the group of NWA. That said so much of this music to me is pastiche and formulaic and there is nothing worse than that. But that is probably another discussion.

My musical tastes of the modern world are still varied but if there is one genre that rings true with me at the moment it would be the expressionist modern version of alternative grunge perpetrated by bands such as Biffy Clyro, Marmaduke Duke, Idlewild, Brand New, Hell is for Heroes to name but a few. These bands embrace all that is great about music to me. They have varied an interesting song structures, poignant and thoughtful lyrics all perfectly housed in mansions of graceful musical splendour evoking both the light and dark of life and most importantly of all in the whites of their eyes is burning passion and belief. That sense of knowing that lets the listener instantly know what is being performed is for real.
So yes my musical tastes are varied so what does this mean I’m a confused individual or perhaps to reference an early comment musically I elect not to take a spoon to all the flavours out there but instead a ladle!

In addition to being an avid listener of music and attendee of as many gigs as possible I also write and perform myself. I play solo acoustic music embracing a style that is somewhat individual and welcoming of many varied influences with the flagship being perhaps not surprising to anyone who has gotten this far in reading to revolve around the lyric content.

I avidly watch as much local live music as I can and often write reviews of the music I’ve seen. I will upload some recent reviews as individual blogs on this site and continue to do this as I attend and write more reviews in the future.

In addition to music many other things ignite passion within me including films, books and any other expressional art form. There are some sports I have an avid interest in but I shall leave other revelations about myself there for now and let this all ooze out in the primordial natural flow of future writing. I’m now fully aware that I have consumed an inordinate amount of your time with what intended to be a brief introduction of myself and my intentions of this blog. I suppose some words in that area may be fitting. As I have said I have written some recent reviews of gigs I have attended and received warm praise of these and some direction to share my views with a wider audience and hence this blog site.

This blog site will hopefully be an organic endeavour where as much as possible I would welcome interaction whether it be a request for me to divulge on a given topic or even if just to tell me to be more brief. I look forward to your interactions and comments going forward and hope you find some pleasure in reading what I throw down into the ether of cyber cosmos.

For now I shall finish by thanking you profusely for having taken the time to read this and hope you return for further reading and I will work on being a little more succinct in the future.

My entire best dear world,

Stu