Wednesday, 1 September 2010

colchester, colchester or wolves (but definitely not spurs)


football >> my dad

when my old man talks about football i take note, he knows his stuff. this is the man who left his brother's wedding mid-ceremony to race to molineux to stand on the north bank (in his lilac flared suit) to catch the second half of his beloved wolverhampton wanderers versus everton in september 1971*. such dedication has led to a wealth of football knowledge filling his cigar and whisky stained brain; ask him who was rotherham's manager in 1983 and he'll tell you. test him with who won the world cup in 1972 and he'll immediately inform you there wasn't a world cup that year. so when my dad guided me into the wonderful world of football when i was five years old, he wisely advised me that people should only support a team that abides to these rules:

- the team of where you were born
- the team of where you grew up
- the team your dad supports


that left me with colchester, colchester or wolves. rebelling, i supported arsenal for a season or two - something to do with lee dixon's tanned thighs, a very peculiar time for a young boy. but over time my yoda-like father's wisdom took effect, that and the sorry realisation i'd never get a new nylon kit if i carried on cheering dixon et al. so as easy as kerry katona swaps bodily fluids, i switched my allegiances to the pride of the black country. for over two decades i've followed wolves through thick (steve bull's two million goals in the turner years, winning the 2003 play-offs, thrashing man utd 1-0, winning the 2009 championship, staying in the premier league last season), and thin (near closure, sir jack's millions wasted on crippled has-beens, seeing bolton or west brom repeatedly beat us in the play-off semi finals and relegation from the premier league despite the amazing free signing of steffen iversen in 2004!) and through these highs and lows i've been to a lot of games and taken in many an old rusty ground.

the money spent, the wet and cold tuesday evenings in january, the hours stuck in traffic jams evidence loyalty and have left a hopeful yet grounded football opinion. but it's all worth it in the end. the good times (premier league stability) might finally be returning to molineux, so in this sky sports led age when so few follow my father's model and now seek quick fix glories randomly supporting chelsea, man utd or spurs despite living hundreds of miles away, maybe it's time to take stock and think about who you should really be following. back my dad's methods and you'll find the success tastes sweeter, you might find yourself actually going to a game (who'd have thunk it?!) and your spurs winning the champions league theory won't be laughed out of your local boozer faster than kerry katona spreads her legs...

*my dad informs me it finished 1-1 if you were wondering

Friday, 6 August 2010

out of office


life >> holiday

i am currently out of the office being all cultured and that in italy until monday 16th august.


i shall respond to your query upon my return.



ciao!
jamie

Thursday, 29 July 2010

i dream in colour


gig review >> i dream in colour >> london >> 28.07.10

in the midst of the great british festival season it's easy to forget that we, the new-music-chasing public should be out there on these fine summer's evenings discovering bands trying to climb the musical ladder. with festivals showcasing what feels like seven million bands every weekend, we'd be forgiven during these warmer months for failing to get out to the dark and dingy gigs that turn these bands from underdogs to summer festival regulars. wanting to move away from the "festivals have everyone i want to see" mindset, last night i headed to london's brick lane to see 'i dream in colour', a young london outfit playing songs from their recently released ep 'the boiler room' (available on itunes, produced by iain gore - mystery jets, glasvegas, libertines). i'd heard a lot about them through a guitar tech mate of mine (tech is short for technician but i'm not sure what guitar is short for*). this techie geek has worked with some big names like maximo park, the maccabees and morcheeba (he prefers bands beginning with 'm'), so when a few months ago he described richard judge (idic's frontman/guitarist) as the best songwriter he'd ever come across, i was intrigued and keen to catch them live.

i dream in colour are a classic indie band, a lazy summation i know, but they are and it's not a bad thing, with all the usual suspects as influences - the beatles et al. they began with 'ready to go', a strong opener with a moody intro and memorable riff. second up was the one song that i and most of the crowd already knew, 'get along'. it had all the elements of a well crafted indie pop song, evidencing the songwriting prowess i'd heard all about. a couple of tracks came and went in the middle, perhaps not quite up to the high standards on show earlier in the gig, but things picked up again towards the end of the set. 'fourteen' is a great song, well structured, well layered, good chorus and propelled to another level by richard's mature and key changing vocals - think matt bellamy minus the opera rubbish. such strong vocals highlight that this is his band and these are his songs. the last song 'finding the courage' was my favourite. when it got going i was hoping the outro would last for ages, the kind of song that could have had a six minute ego stroking ending (the fact that it didn't again shows there's thought behind the writing), but with an abrupt finish their set was over and it was time to head into the night...

all in all it was good to get back to the midweek grass roots of music with a band i knew little about. during the set i felt slightly disappointed with the rest of the band - happy to just provide the backdrop for richard to shine, but on reflection that's all they needed to do. shine richard does. extremely impressive vocals, catchy songs and the ability to veer nicely between languid and energetic. for i dream in colour to progress and climb that musical ladder where the big shot guitar techs jump onboard, they know what they need; a name change to something beginning with 'm'... so while they consider new band names, i'll try and work out what 'guitar' is short for.

i dream in colour played:

ready to go
get along
if you
alibi
on my mind
fourteen
finding the courage

7.5

*copyright of mat horne & alexander oakley. jokers.

Monday, 26 July 2010

"hi pod, please shut up and go listen to these real beauties"

with the hardest working day of the week now consigned to water cooler history, and only four office days left until field day festival i thought i'd get home, relax and put my weary feet up with some terrible television. i wanted terrible but watchable tv. you know, shit, but still leaves you feeling warm inside (surprise surprise, howard's way, that kind of thing). to my annoyance i've painfully just watched the first 41 seconds of 'snog marry avoid?' and i'm left questioning our existence. but instead of writing a tear and blood stained final message directed at jenny frost, 'pod' and overweight orange girls giving them the satisfaction they crave, i've instead gone through my itunes to make a rather more life embracing note of my favourite five albums of 2010 so far. so for all those looking for something other to do than start gang warfare against glowing perma-tan girls, go listen to the following...

foals, 'total life forever'

raising the bar not just for bands from studious oxford, but for all british bands right now. amazing. 9

favourite song... 'spanish sahara'






arcade fire, 'the suburbs'

not out for a few days yet, but thankfully for us (but not their bank manager) it's leaked and is currently set on repeat on my iphone. quite brilliant. 9

favourite song... 'ready to start'






mystery jets, 'serotonin'

the strongest middle of an album i've heard in a long time, irresistibly catchy. 8

favourite song... 'show me the light'







avi buffalo, 'avi buffalo'

sounds like the album mgmt tried (but failed) to make with their second offering. poppy and summery, lovely stuff. 7

favourite song... 'truth sets in'






yeasayer, 'odd blood'

in places sounds like the perfect pilled up, loved up, but very weird summer party. odd blood, odd sounds and oddly scattered bits of genius. 7

favourite song... 'love me girl'






so there you have it, my top five. a special mention should also go to sleigh bells, ariel pink's haunted graffiti, the coral and two door cinema club who just failed to make the grade, i'm sure they're crying into their supper right now. with that written, i'm off to watch 'lee nelson's well good show'. someone pass me a gun.

Tuesday, 20 July 2010

i love your box


festival review >> lovebox >> london >> 16.07.10

i loved lovebox. not that i can remember much, but on that basis i can pretty much assume i had a jolly good time.

the day started with sunshine and a fear of our drinks being confiscated upon our arrival. with this in mind we necked some of our homemade cocktails in a hastily organised drinkathon outside the festival gates, resembling two naughty teenagers about to enter their first school disco for a bit of a fingering. with drinks drunk and legs a little loose, we passed the burly security guards without even a cheeky grope to check for our remaining arsenal of vodka. what was already a blur of a day, was about to get a whole lot blurrier...

my ever fading memories of friday include bombay bicycle club, the mystery jets and the maccabees, three of my favourite bands of today. they could have played boyzone covers for all i remember, so don't expect reports of set-lists or highlights from me. i can assume though from all our smiley photographs now cluttering the world of social networking, we were having a whale of a time. there's photographic evidence of backstage action, some heavy drinking, fairground rides, some wrestling with my now bruised little sister but sadly no evidence of my lost gay man-bag. said misplaced bag resulted in a night on the tiles for us. actually when i say tiles, i mean pebbles. yep, no bag meant no key, no key meant no entrance to my house and no entrance meant no bed. any remotely sober festival goer would have quickly realised that in such circumstances the one mile journey to my girlfriend's house would have been the quick fix solution. not for us. our joyous drunken mood obviously led us to mistakenly believe the pebbles in the front garden would be inviting and cosy. they weren't, but thank you lovebox, thank you for the drunken good times that have led to my now four day old aching back.

as is obvious from the above, with arsenal of vodka quickly consumed, i have minimal evidence in my aching head to back up my claims that lovebox was a lot of fun, however i can reflect from my few lasting visions and photographs that the sun helped, the lack of mud was a massive boost and the 'we're here for a day so let's fucking have it' mindset amongst everyone contributed to what made this day so forgetful - in a good way! what i'm trying to say, is that because lovebox was such a laugh the fact that we can't remember seeing anyone doesn't matter, the lost bag doesn't matter, the night spent asleep in my cold front garden and the now unshakeable aching bones do not matter... i wouldn't have had it any other way. see you next year for more of the same vicky park, pebbles 'n all...

9.5

kev and eleanore (could) go large!

gig review >> the hundred in the hands >> the old blue last, shoreditch >> 15.07.10


last thursday evening i attended a vice magazine party at the old blue last in shoreditch. the people at vice promised us "beautiful people and bands", but after a brief scout there was only one person that caught my eye - the only person in the room who seemed natural, not over dressed in her dead granny's clothes, and not competing for queen of quirky amongst her fellow hoxton heroes. step forward eleanore everdell, singer, synths and all things electric and exciting in the two piece band the hundred in the hands.


eleanore, the female half of the hundred in the hands first caught my eye last year when i saw them warm up for the maccabees at the brighton great escape festival. they were pretty good back then, so i had high expectations of them a year of growth on. they're from new yooik, and play an easy on the ear minimal avant poppy dubby electro, think the basics of crystal castles minus the screams and urge to take a load of pills and rave. more tap your foot stuff, or casually shake your hair about (as eleanore does so well). despite a few technical hitches, their set was laden with catchy pop songs from their new lp out in september such as 'ghosts', 'tom tom' and a heavier than usual version of their most popular song 'dressed in dresden'. everdell seductively propels the songs with an ease that seems effortless and natural. in complete contrast to her minimal yet perfect effort is guitarist jason friedman who crashes around his million or so effects pedals like a moody emo teenager creating a sound that bares little resemblance to what would naturally amplify from his collection of guitars. some might say the contrast compliments their on stage sound, but i found the actions of jason a bit much. for some reason mid-set he adorned one of those silly caps that a lot of the early 20-somethings tilt on the back of their boy-in-a-band-hair these days. memories of harry enfield and kevin the teenager came flashing back. occasionally the sound created by jason was too wall-of-noise for everdell's soft tones and any hooks or melodies seemed lost in his blaze of effects.


i liked the delivery from eleanore, i also enjoyed the knee jerking beats of their songs, but found myself increasingly aggravated by jason's on stage, back to the crowd performance. but with a little tweak in their live sound and stage presence here, a removal of a cap there, the hundred in the hands will soon find themselves propelled to the bigger gigs and due to the law of averages, should ensure an increase in the beautiful people as wrongfully promised tonight...


6.5


the hundred in the hands played:


tom tom
young aren't young
pigeons
ghosts
building in l.o.v.e
commotion
dressed in dresden

Saturday, 10 July 2010

hello, this is bombay bicycle club, may i take your orderings please? folk, yes we do folk. would you like pilau rice with that?


album review >> bombay bicycle club >> flaws


if you're going to listen to an acoustic album, you need to be in exactly the right mood. my mood today is sleepy, hungover, and ridiculously hot. bombay bicycle club are about to release 'flaws' (out on monday 12th july), possibly the perfect album for my current state of mind.


this is a massive (presumably temporary) step away from the sound of bbc's first album 'i had the blues but i shook them loose', and there's not much on 'flaws' that will get your heart racing or your arms aloft as their first album did with such indie hits as 'evening/morning', but that's obviously not the angle of this record. what the new songs lack in effects and electronic zest, they make up for in haunted acoustic folk, heavily doused in nick drake and neil young. also on show is a maturing voice delivering more endearing lyrics; lead man jack steadman's vocals sound particularly impressive fronting this new found folk sound. highlights include the cover of john martyn's 'fairytale lullaby', the song from which the album takes its name 'flaws' and the stripped back version of 'dust on the ground', which is possibly better than the version found on their debut album. unfortunately i found some songs to be a little repetitive and forgettable as is regularly the issue with an acoustic album, but that's not to say i didn't appreciate the crouch end boys new sound, indeed praise is due for displaying such a brave and creative alter-ego. the band now embark on a nationwide church and chapel tour, but have promised to revisit their more varied classical indie sounds for their festival dates.


as my saturday night draws closer, i realise this isn't going to be the soundtrack to get spruced and bruced to, but for now, as i sit resembling a lobster, struggling in the hot english sunshine, it's perfect.


7