Bob's Times

South East Cycling – #01 Godstone

2008-01-03T08:39:00.000Z

Inspired by one of my xmas gifts, Tay & I are working our way through Rough Ride Guide's Southeast Cycling book. Recommended by Dave it's an A4, hard-backed but ring-bound folder, each ride printed on one leaf which can then be taken on the ride (a plastic wallet comes in handy here).

To kick off the campaign we headed for route 14 which partly traces the night-hike we took on a whim after the concert at the Orpheus Centre.

View Larger Map

Ignoring the official start we parked up at a small, free (but height restricted after hours) car park on Gangers Hill (see map) and headed south through the woodlands, bridleways & back roads of Godstone.

We'd travelled under a mile before losing eath other for half an hour in Hanging Wood. To make things even harder, horses had recently churned the trails into mud almost a foot deep.

It's a lovely little village with some friendly folk doffing their hats from the seat of their tractors and some interestingly colourful homes. We rode past a pink Tudor house, a cottage with bright yellow shutters and these houses with matching blue window frames.

Once again, forgetting our lights we found ourselves making the last climb back up to the car in blackness. Though the lights of the M25 make for a nice photo I was more impressed with the deer that ran along beside us in the bushes. Had we not been such stealth-riders I doubt we'd have got so close.

Xmas Charity Gig @ The Bedford, Balham

2007-12-19T14:00:00.000Z

Last night, the annual event organised by bands Caliko, Kohiba & Jazzbomb also featured three tunes from recent Orpheus Centre concerts. Of course, I had to get involved, the Hofner archtop made it's first public appearance & ticket sales enabled a donation of £1500 to Jo's home charity, Great Ormond Street.

Antonio Forcione – Live at Le Q

2007-12-18T13:33:00.000Z

Was having an off day a couple of months ago. Can't remember what had happened now but remember complaining to Tay that I was cheesed (humph). Received a txt shortly after. It was Tay asking whether I was busy on December 17th (hmmm...) and would it cheer me up to know that we now had tickets to watch Antonio Forcione, Live at Le Quecumbar (RING THE ALARM!).

Desparate to check out Antonio's jaw-dropping guitar technique. Tay freezing after hour-long train journey in carriage sans-heating, fever setting in on the way (bugger, hope we don't miss any of the show). Fortunately, for cold & flu symptoms, there's nothing better than to get cosy inside Le Q's tiny interior (that'll warm her cockles!).

Rushed out of work early to get down to Battersea for when the doors opened. Through the window it appeared there was no room at the inn (damn, well, I suppose it IS xmas). Opened the door & found a table immediately (Bingo! Close to the action and next to the sound engineer).

Ordered Le Q's best plate, venison burgers with cranberry sauce (these'll get the dribble factory pumping, as per usual). Less than two minutes later our dinner was on the table (hmmm... not typically French but bonus points for Le Q). Burgers were below par & there seems to be a cranberry shortage (pah, bonus points deducted).

Had plenty of time to kill after the meal. Antonio ate two tables away (look at those losers asking for his autograph!) and disappeared for two hours. Shared our table with a nice couple (get in, we've got the far side, no rubber-necking for us!), folkies they were. Had heard of Caliko but hadn't seen them play live (note to self: tell Jon & Jo to book a gig in Crouch End).

Gig started about 9pm. Playing phenomenal and sound perfect (aha, nylon strings, a levalier mic... and hot damn that percussionist is creative!). View obscured by folkie-wife's enormous hair (dammit, how can a white woman grow an afro?).

Wine finished by 10pm (nice, could do with a refresher now). Cloudy lemonade run out (oh you... buggers, regular it is then).

Two hours of world-jazz surpassed. Antonio hits single wrong note during blistering solo (wow, he IS human!) Adriano has crowd imitating bird tweets during African Dawn. Duo share instruments simultaneously during free improvisation loosely titled Funky (this music just gets better & better).

Bill arrives for dinner. Compulsary service charge 20% (ouch, I know it's not cheap here but we HAVE already paid to get in). Duo return for encore (ahh, screw the expense, this has been an awesome night out). Waiter sneakily adds 50p to bill (err, WTF, I can't possibly make such a petit fuss...).

Attempted to find duo and purchase signed CDs (loser!). Left CD-less (kinda spent enough tonight, I'm not a total victim of consumerism...) but with great feeling that we had witnessed something very special (it makes sense really, expensive? Yes. But this is the only place in the UK dedicated to Django's legacy, is immaculately decked out in 1930's Parisian style and can offer an intimate night of acoustic jazz with my favourite guitarist. All in all, Le Q absolutely jams!).

Walked half a mile in sub-zero temperature. Arrived at bus stop to watch bus close doors and drive away (bugger).

Grolsch – not the beer, the kitten!

2007-12-16T11:12:00.000Z

You can't beat a Sunday roast. They're especially tasty when someone else does all the cooking & you get to relax in the lounge sniffing the parsnip aroma. This weekend's roast (minty lamb by Tay's cousin Laura, cheers!) came bundled with entertainment in the form of Grolsch, not the beer, the kitten! A full 11 weeks old he's brimming with energy while awake & loves his purple feather on a stick.

Day of the Dog

2007-12-12T22:57:00.000Z

Late last night, the puppy Kate & Nathan had been waiting for was finally delivered. I met him for the first time this morning, so I thought... Around the same time, the phone rang, it was the breeder herself explaining that we had the wrong dog! Not only had they dropped off a female but she was the pup they had planned to keep for themselves!

One day of work later & I've come home to meet the real McCoy, he's much more lively and chatty. He also likes chewing jeans & socks, perhaps now is a good time to start tidying. Having fixed my studio door so that it stays shut I'm no longer worried about him cocking his leg up next to my new archtop, but I'm sure he'll get himself into much mischief. The question is, which will grow up to be the naughtiest, our so far un-named dog or my newly crawling nephew Charlie?

Ibanez TS808 Tube Screamer

2007-12-11T00:02:00.000Z

To complement the Hofner and make for some warm blues tones by the Rob-Tay duo, I picked up a second hand Tube Screamer from Ebay. I seriously can't wait for the Xmas Charity gig at The Bedford, taking a rock solo with this thing could be fun...

Hofner J5 Archtop

2007-12-07T23:13:00.000Z

Months & months I've been looking. Months I tell ya! Here's what I finally found. It's not the Gibson Le Grande which would surely have set me back several Le Grande in sterling. It's my brand new Hofner J5f Archtop which also features the floating pick-up, the cutaway and the gorgeous figured woods but at around one tenth of the price.

The spruce top is really bright & the whole guitar has a slightly weird acoustic tone, just what I was looking for. So far the pickup has pleased. Turning the tone knob up keeps the sound bright & acoustic-ish, roll it all the way down & it sounds like Wes Montgomery (badly played!).

We Three Kings

2007-12-03T00:40:00.000Z

MERRY XMAS! - Happiness brought to you by Tim Thompson

Gillian Gibbons & the Sudan Embassy on Tourism

2007-12-01T10:16:00.000Z

An outrageous story: A Saudi Arabian woman who after being raped 14 times by 7 men was sentenced to 200 lashes for admitting being alone in a car with a man not related to her. Not only did the Saudi Judge make this heinously wrong decision but he also jailed her for six months after she appealed against the lenient sentences given to the men who attacked her, though managed to raise their sentences to between 2-9 years. It makes me wonder:

What message does this send to victims of crime?

Who on Earth would want to visit a place governed in this manner?

Would tourists not fear for their lives? It's hardly the beginnings of a relaxing break...

Less than two weeks later, Gillian Gibbons, the teacher from the UK who, in Sudan, unwittingly let a child name a toy bear Mohammed has been sentenced to 15 days in prison. Not content, thousands of protesters brandishing weapons are now demanding her death on the grounds of blasphemy. There's a famous Monty Python sketch which tackled the flaws of this argument back in 1979:

A paragraph from the story reported by Sky News today:

"She doesn't want anyone using her as something to stoke up resentment between anyone - be they Sudanese or Muslim"

She may well not, but the over-riding influence appears to derive from extreme decisions made by the Judges in these lands, followed by exagerrated protesters. It leaves me wondering yet again: Who on Earth would want to live in a place governed in this manner, let alone offer to help educate their young? Who on Earth would want to visit Sudan?

Here's a paragraph from the Sudan Embassy on their efforts to promote tourism:

"Tourism activity started in Sudan since the dawn of independence with the country's meager resources being carefully and honestly directed to reflect Sudan's splendid tourist image to the outside world."

It is, at its very least, a shame. Because in the light of these recent news stories, I'll be travelling elsewhere.

Rooms with a view - Simon & Carolyn's house

2007-11-25T15:41:00.000Z

A short drive to Crystal Palace last night took us to a street with an amazing view of Kent & the North Downs. The same street where Simon & Carolyn had moved in to their new home on Friday. It appears they've bought somewhere with plenty of room for expansion concerning both new bricks & mortar and new family members. Surely the most grown up of my friends they've already done the wedding thing & now have rooms to spare...

Creature Discomforts for Leonard Cheshire

2007-11-15T22:24:00.000Z

Nearing xmas, we can all expect to see Aardman Animations' familiar plasticine characters on-screen very soon. In fact they've come sooner than we all expected for the purpose of a new and very astute ad campaign for Leonard Cheshire Disability. Not only is the Creature Discomforts campaign a fantastic concept well delivered but I'm also very proud to say that my sister Lucy played the pivotal role in publicising it's launch all over the globe.

Leonard Cheshire provide innovative services that give disabled people the opportunity to live life their way. Having worked with similar underlying concepts at the Orpheus Centre in recent years and being an advocate of accessible web design in my career it's a cause I feel close to.

Russell Malone

2007-11-15T01:41:00.000Z

I recently looked up who played the guitar track on Diana Krall's version of I Can't Give You Anything But Love. Here he is, it's Russell Malone, with a very nice piece of music by the BeeGees. Check out those harmonics near the end, gorgeous.

The Chalk & Channel Way

2007-11-12T21:37:00.000Z

All hail Thule roof/bike rack systems! So impressed am I with mine that I felt it required a decent test. Looking for a gap in the weather, yesterday appeared on the radar to be our window of opportunity. An immediate coastal ride beckoned, and the chance to put our digital cameras to the test. We planned to follow National Cycle Network Route #2 on the South coast of Kent between Folkestone and Dover. An undulating, eight-mile trip following the white cliff-tops over the Seven Sisters, commonly known as the Chalk and Channel Way. A fitting location for Remembrance Sunday, but no bluebirds in sight.

From the car park to the top of the cliffs should have been a steady climb making use of the local one-way traffic system. Though halfway to the top of the Warren, Tay spied (past her enormous pink beanie) a dubious shortcut leading us up the remainder of the hill almost in a straight line. Scrambling up and slipping down the grass bank with our bikes was a great warm-up for the thighs. I'm sure the longer, road-based route is just as challenging given it's extra mile in length but short of time we got ourselves up on top with haste, making the most of the day.

Once aloft, it was all stunning scenery to the right, expensive property with oversized windows to the left, and - according to signs dotted around the memorials - adders beneath! Rolling towards Lydden Spout a rainbow unmasked itself perfectly in front of us. Had we cameras with wide enough lenses, powerful enough zooms or rich enough colour depth then perhaps our attempts at recording it would have been less frustrating. Still, a full bow of colour is not to be sniffed at, even in the chill of November.

Route #2 takes a turn for the town once Dover begins to loom around the last bend. It was perhaps a little naughty but the walkers' path along the edge of Shakespeare's Cliff seemed so much more inviting, despite two fences standing in the way. Not a soul but us were on that cliff during Sunday's sunset. The last of the slippery climbs took us to the highest we'd been all day, and made great use of the waning light. Descending the dark side of the hill we met Shetland ponies and a slightly worse-for-wear hitch hiker, desparate for someone to give him a lift, or a light for the roll-up attached to his lower lip. My thoughts, however, were back in Evans cycle shop where a salesman had sold me an expensive new tyre under the premise that it's knobbly grip formation held self-cleaning properties. . .

It was a one-way ride for us in the end. Lack of handlebar-mounted LEDs and fairly crispy ears meant that for us this short November day ended with a train journey back to the car. Possibly a slight cop-out but at least a 15-minute chance to immediately recount the views of the day. By this point the temperature had severely dropped. Rolling down the hill to Folkestone harbour we passed the first car park that we'd tried to enter earlier in the day, and remembered the height restriction bar above the entrance that I spotted with a full six-inches to spare. That's the only fault I can attach to the Thule system, it's so good you forget you're hauling two bikes about, even on top of a meagre VW Polo. With chapped lips, streaming eyes & petrified bones in our hands there was no greater pleasure than throwing our steeds up on the roof and locking them down within one minute, roll on the next ride I say.

Montiverdi, with Kate & Nathan

2007-11-01T00:11:00.000Z

As I grew up I often listened to my mother singing soprano lines in practice for her choir's next performance. Though it's not so often in life you find yourself living with a professional opera singer. Having emmense volume Kate's voice carries up through every floor of our house & waking to the sound of her vocal warm ups is really quite pleasant. Lately, I've found myself living with two opera singers after Kate's boyfriend Nathan joined us in the house. Not content with living together, right now they're also working together for English National Opera, performing in Monteverdi's Coronation of Poppea at the London Coliseum. With company tickets my parents, Tay & I watched the show from the stalls.

"There's Kate, she's first to sing" I advised my parents. Sure enough, out strutted Kate in a mauve wig, transparent PVC dress and six-inch high heels. "Oh yes, we saw her earlier when we delivered a basket of flowers backstage" says Mum. Right, no need to point her out then! The tone for the whole show was set. Performers scantily clad in neon colours, women playing men, men dressed as women, simulated sex on-stage... In short, this modern adaptation was debauched, what an introduction to the opera!

Despite this production being sung in English with the lyrics displayed above the stage I did find opera a tad heavy-going. The first half featured the introduction of most of the characters which meant listening to singular voices each tell their part of the story for an hour or so. Of course we're somewhat biased but Tay & I agreed that Kate's voice, in comparison to other sopranos on the night (including the leading lady), had a particularly sweet tone, like a nice, soft, oval wine gum. Mmmmm, lovely. Nathan's turn to sing ushered in some welcome harmonies. From there the show slowly swelled into the crescendo of the majority of the cast during the coronation scene.

Looking back at the show as a whole I really did enjoy it. Opera has a canny knack of drawing you in to the more delicate parts of a scene. It can feel drawn out at times and it's hard at first to merge with a story told only in song. But given a real chance, some undivided attention and an appreciation for the acted, sung and orchestral elements of the show it's a technically amazing and powerfully creative performance to watch.

Choir Crashing

2007-10-12T14:59:00.000Z

My flux capacitor has been working overtime of late. Visits to the Surrey University campus in Guildford for late night jams in the practice rooms with Tay have been taking my mind back in time to my student years. Tight deadlines for spoken assignments have kept Tay too busy to play piano this week but if possible she wouldn't miss out on choir practice. So neither did I!

Heavy rains fell all morning drenching the entire chorus of students on their way to Studio 1. So wide had the heavens opened that the regular conductor Russell Keable spent his time stuck on the M40 behind an accident. A shame for Choir Crashers like me as his eccentric warm-up routines are apparently great fun; 1... takita 1 2... takita 1 2 3... takita 1 2 3 4... takita tah! (All complete with stretching exercises and loose-limb movements!)

Once inside I did my best to blend in with the educational crowd. In true student style I too had forgotten my sheet music. Standing with the Bass register I marked myself at a B+ for picking up the bottom line of I'm Getting Married In The Morning followed by I Could Have Danced All Night. Choir Maths Level 1: Basses + Baritones + Tenors 1 & 2 + Altos 1 & 2 + Sopranos 1 & 2 = 8 lines of harmony. When all our voices came together the sound in the studio was awesome. A shorter than usual session unfortunately meant cutting Auf-fer-stehn out of the reportoire. Damn, I could have done with the German lesson so close to our trip to Berlin on Monday.

Coming back to the future we travelled via the scenic route and stopped to take a gander at the rainbow-coloured views over the Albury Downs at Newlands Corner. Fantastic.

Classical Guitar

2007-09-25T23:17:00.000Z

There are two YouTube videos I've chanced upon recently that require posting. Enjoy!

Bohemian Rhapsody - played by Edgar Cruz

Super Mario Bros - played by someone who probably should pop his name up next to the video!

Rodrigo y Gabriella

2007-09-19T09:01:00.000Z

After one replacement battery and four years of near constant use my second generation iPod finally spun down. A disaster as such for me as I threw out my old portable CD player with the advent of the little white iMusthaves. For almost two weeks (an eternity I know . . .) my ears have taken leave from the thumping assault of Django and The Rosenberg Trio that they're used to on public transport. So where do ears go on holiday?

MEXICO! A CD kindly bought by Simon & Carolyn for my birthday recently has taken residence in this particular holiday camp. Rodrigo y Gabriella are an act not to dismiss by the odd artwork of their album cover. I'd briefly seen this reviewed in Word Magazine and sitting at the front of music stores but thought no further of it.

These two are in fact not gifted lizards, but a super-tight, wonderfully melodic and powerfully rhythmic latin guitar duo. I've been obsessed with learning Rodrigo's lead licks until watching videos of them on YouTube and noticing Gabriella's amazing rhythm technique. On first listens to the album I had suspected overdubbing, but no, it's Gabriella's right hand creating the bass drum, bass line, chordal work, triplet compas and occasional second lead line. The pair of them sharing and overlapping their individual sounds with outstanding control.

This is the kind of music that makes me want to learn these fantastic rhythms. It's anything but easy though. Some serious rasgueado practice is called for to play like a true Mexican reptile. Now that my replacement iPod has finally been delivered my ears have returned from their vacation with a much appreciated gift. I can once more enjoy decent entertainment on the Tube journey to work, drift away with the fairies and miss my stop at Waterloo while my brain has flown to Seville for an intimate flamenco show outside a tapas bar . . .

Photosynth

2007-08-27T22:45:00.000Z

I usually try to keep my work life out of this blog but a link received from Leon late tonight has blown my mind as to the future of web design. This is Photosynth, a piece of software which, well, just watch the video...

Acoustic Rock Week 2007

2007-07-28T19:18:00.000Z

So, that's another week of music and madness at the Orpheus Centre resolved. Working at last year's short course was a wonderful experience and round two entirely lived up to it's expectations. Once again head tutor Russ Barrow led the jamboree to greatness with the help of Caliko members Jon and Jo, and new friend Andrew Coleman, a fantastic pianist and singer-songwriter from Liverpool.

This year's course featured no less than twenty students. Writing a song with each of them was a solid task and remembering so many arrangements during rehearsals really took some doing. Without this year's extra enablers to help compose our ditties putting Friday night's production together would have been somewhat impossible.

Many songs were written by students completing their last year at the Orpheus Centre, their lyrics reflecting the jumble of emotions that come bundled with leaving to start an independent life. Becky's strangely poignant Finding Home and Jenny's Big Impact brought this sentiment to the foreground beautifully. Some of the most impressive compositions effortlessly fell from tutor Andy Coleman's hands. Pat's Louise and Anna's Lost breezed with a wistful jaunt of Andy's pop style. A personal favourite was Nick, Jon and I introducing the second set with a Kelly Joe Phelps inspired country/blues tune, Dance With The Devil, which saw the resurrection of my dobro after a year of gathering dust.

Following last year's Flip-flop-flop-flip-flip-off, an updated aerial competition (also devised by Russ) featuring malteasers caught in the mouth from long-distance throws provided lunchtime entertainment for everyone on the course. First place went to Jon with a floor-less three out of three! Other amusing events during the course included the toaster overheating early one morning, filling the kitchen with smoke and resulting in pajama-clad enablers meeting at the fire point!

The concert was a sell out with just over ninety guests in the audience including my entire family, cheers for coming guys! Great props were employed; Veasna's backing band wore Tae Kwon Do head bands made from toilet paper and Atalia and Jenni dressed as matadors during Matt's soundbeam solo in Spain.

Once again I'll be producing the DVD of the show, the best tracks of which will by finding their home on YouTube and, of course, right here on Bob's Times. Carrying my musical equipment into my house after the constant, raucous happenings of The OC cues an immediate feeling of boredom, despite the need for rest. After the week of developments I've returned to London to meet some friendly new neighbours moving in next-door. It seems that finding home in some shape or form has been the trend of late . . .

London Symphony Orchestra

2007-07-13T21:53:00.000Z

If ever I did have a musical meander, it was tonight. Leaving work with the plan to go straight home I noticed the usual summer stage out on Canada Square Park. A minor detour took me to tonight's gig, the London Symphony Orchestra playing the themes of Hollywood; ET, Saving Private Ryan, Lord of the Rings, and so many more including - as a celebration of it's 30th anniversary - a medley of Star Wars classics.

Think you're unique? - Check out Og de Souza

2007-07-13T21:51:00.000Z

Facebook, Nostalgia, and Feeling Lazy

2007-07-12T22:45:00.000Z

The numbers are growing on my Facebook friends page. For some it's a race to the first hundred friends. Others call the entire idea an appauling waste of time. I too resisted at first, relenting after a month of invites to join. I find it a gritty existence inside the 'book. Chronological runnings of friends' lives are daubed or fly-posted on walls, secrets and lies squat boldly in dark corners of everyone's profile, and long lost mobs of similar minds join hands once more to search for the next stray member.

Tonight one found me, and pointed in the direction of another member, Alex Young, who was undoubtedly the most talented illustrator during my experience of University. He now has a body of work online dubbed Brain of Alex Young which serves to effortlessly flick my paltry art and design into the wheelie bin and simultaneously wake me up to the fact that I've grown roots in my chair at work, I believe they're getting on for seven years long now . . . Never mind the hours spent on Facebook, I've wasted absolutely enough time sitting stationary, flogging the same dead horse, how long can it possibly continue?

After you've done a thing the same way for two years, look it over carefully. After five years, look at it with suspicion. And after ten years, throw it away and start all over. ~Alfred Edward Perlman, New York Times, 3 July 1958

His Dark Materials - Film One . . .

2007-07-04T22:27:00.000Z

Philip Pullman's wonderful trilogy of books – His Dark Materials – kicks off in the cinemas across the pond this month (they say) and us Brits will have to wait till December to watch the Armoured Bears and Daemons come to life on screen.

Rumour has it that the entire Magesterium / anti-Christian sub-plot which runs through each book has been stripped out due to Hollywood and it's men-of-power who fear the wrath of the big, bearded man in the sky. Hmmm, all the more reason to read the books I say, either before or after watching the films will do. How the third film, The Amber Spyglass, will make sense without these views baffles me. I'd explain more but it would ruin a large chunk of the story for those who haven't read it, yet.

In the meantime Apple are kindly offering HD trailers (cheers Mr. Jobs & New Line Cinema for the image, the CG graphics look excellent in places) and the film also has an official website where, after a short questionaire about your personal thoughts & choices, you can discover what form your own Daemon would take; say hello to Haythia.

Roll over the image below, click "Is my Daemon a match?" & let me know if you think the crow is the animal representative to my personality. You have twelve days before the form becomes fixed . . .

Antonio Forcione - YouTube Channel

2007-06-27T10:54:00.000Z

YouTube has far more interesting channels than BBC, ITV and the dreaded, brain-mulching, ever-repeating collection of E4 pseudo-channels. Here's one that's just launched today, showcasing the best acoustic guitarist in the world – Antonio Forcione. From musical comedy routines, through jaw-dropping solo pieces to quintets of beautiful arrangements, it's all captured on video here on YouTube

Spitz Fest #3 - Women Sing East

2007-06-14T20:38:00.000Z

From the delicate heights of professional, classical musicians at Space Between Words and The Masque of Moments I found myself wandering through down-to-earth London and into Brady Arts & Community Centre for the third show in this series of blog posts, Women Sing East.

Inside Brady's it was hot. Really humid and really hot. How hot the twenty-seven performers felt under the colourful selection of stage lights I can't imagine. Loosely huddled, their vocals were simple and uninhibited. Mostly comprising of two-part arrangements for the singers they were confidently conducted by the leader of the group, who had composed her own song for the show about a pair of twins discovering their love-hate relationship.

The feel of the entire show was lightly swingy with Stevie Wonder covers, plenty of finger snapping and a pianist with a slack, wobbly style that reminded me of Vince Guaraldi's soundtrack to Peanuts. All in all a great feel throughout the night. I hadn't really thought ahead or expected any particular type of music. What I discovered was a jazzy twinge of Oliver Twist and a show perfectly titled to suit the songs so heartily sung.

Spitz Fest #2 - The Masque of Moments

2007-06-14T09:29:00.002Z

Arriving slightly late due to an erroneous location map I was much more immediately impressed by Shoreditch Church than the venue for Space Between Words at Wilton's Music Hall. Perhaps the grandeur of an ever-so-slightly roughened stone church mixed with the title of the show combined well in my mind.

Ushered in whilst the crowd applauded I was yet again faced with classical music organisational rules. I'm late, I'm not allowed to take a seat in the centre, I take a few seconds to locate a free seat from where I can see the stage, a second too long I fear as I'm reminded to please take a seat. Slightly rushed I park myself behind a large pillar, wide enough to hold the church aloft by itself. Eyes rolling I then wonder if I have checked in under-dressed for this scene. Apparently Shoreditch Church is kind enough to double as a temporary shelter for the homeless during events. Worries of scruffiness are promptly quashed.

It's now I notice the 'no standing during the performance' notice on every stone column. Leaning at forty-five degrees to my right I aquire a cropped panorama of the amazing 17th century instruments which all this time have been producing an authentic, period backing track to my initial concert woes.

Struck at first by the design of the tools in their laps I then tumbled into the mood of the night. I imagined myself a visitor to the kingdom, taken to the market place where peasants and Court officials gathered to sell wares, eat meat wrapped around sticks cooked on large barbeques under earth-coloured, leather tents. A cat finds some rich pickings amongst discarded vegetable leaves and performers entertain the crowd with tales of rich and poor, treasure and gout, knights drinking and peasants in Wapping pissing out fires.

Superb playing of instruments new to me (like the Theorbo, with it's unfeasably long fretboard and massive range) and top-class singing with voices also new to me, a counter tenor's sound is like no other vocal.

Sitting the the gallery through the second set my view was improved tenfold and the acoustic character of the venue revealed it's clarity & wonderful, natural reverb. It's the storytelling & feeling that I most enjoy in English Folk music. Here I was witness to a virtuoso execution of how it was done in the 1600s, with enough feel & ambience to immerse myself in another world.

Crafter TRV23/N Guitar

2007-06-11T10:43:00.000Z

After wondering whether I should really buy yet another guitar, the latest addition to my studio finally got the better of me. I spied the Crafter TRV23/N travel-sized guitar in Denmark street about a month ago & have been using it mainly to create Gypsy Swing comps as it's tone is slightly hollow like the Selmer style guitars Django Reinhardt used through his entire career.

At £170 it's cheaper than the Little Martin guitars (sorry Jon & Mike, the early bird catches the worm but the second mouse gets the cheese!) with a solid spruce top, arched back for extra volume & a cutaway. Also included in the price are a gig bag & a free setup any time within one year of purchase.

Paddy Dog

2007-06-10T16:43:00.000Z

A special guest joins us in the house this weekend. Paddy the English Cocker Spaniel has made himself at home whilst Kate dogsits for some friends. We're not sure of his age but he's very well house trained & great fun to have in the garden.

Spitz Fest #1 - Space Between Words

2007-06-10T11:01:00.000Z

The first of a few gigs I'm attending this June as official photographer of the Spitalfields Festival was performed last night at Wilton's Music Hall. As the world's oldest surviving grand music hall Wilton's is a near derelict building being kept barely upright by much scaffolding & what looks in some places like paper maché. It's location left me feeling uneasy as I walked from Shadwell DLR station through precarious-looking council estates with my very noticable camera bag slung over my shoulder.

All these apparent negatives pale to the feel of the building as a whole. Although neglected in recent years the unrendered walls & chipped corners harbour an authentic charm and lovely, warm acoustic quality which - I was told by Kate, Events Manager for the festival - is even soft enough to give musicians a little grace when playing or singing an off-tune note. This year's Spitalfields Festival uses some really quirky venues about town...

The performance was nothing if not experimental. Four classically trained singers waited patiently for the fifth performer on stage to read his narrative to the evening - loosely themed with insightful knowledge - before launching themselves into bizarrely rhythmic clicks, pops, tongue-rolls and shushes, mixed with drawn out oohs and aahhs, each short section leaving one singer holding a note while the composer, sat upstairs with a laptop, sampled and looped that single voice through the speaker's next segment.

Impressive storytelling spoke of themes such as Tibetan meditation techniques and, for me, previously un-thought-of thoughts including how if a person has been deaf since birth, they have most probably still learned to read, but those words written have no sound attached to them in their minds. So in one respect it's akin to learning a language comprised only of telephone numbers...

Such seemingly random sounds were occasionally hard on the ear but through the hour-long show moved between accessible and dissonant chords in their own time, breathing a healthy dose of life into the composition. I left perhaps not inspired to compose, but with an opened mind to the possibilities of the human voice when used as a musical instrument. I look forward to where the next gig will take my mind.

Those wishing to read further info in the form of a blog post written by the wordsmith of the show himself, Alistair Appleton, are in luck.

Django - The whole movie

2007-06-03T09:33:00.000Z

I'm sure this video has been posted on untold amounts of blogs since it first arrived on YouTube, including mine. It's worthy of a second post though. Until now the first part of this short programme about the foundations of Jazz was missing.

I applaud that the orchestral section has finally been revealed but look closely at the rhythm section's right-arm movements. The editor of the video has synchronised the moving pictures one beat too slow (or fast, is it possible to tell which?). I can forgive a mistake like this in a video made using editing equipment of 1939, but so many modern videos also employ this erroneous technique. Would contemporary editors kindly note that this has not gone unnoticed, the accent of the beat should correspond with the accented pick stroke. I'd suggest to any editors reversing this to sell their guitars immediately.

John Jorgenson Quintet Live @ The Purcell Room

2007-05-07T14:57:00.000Z

A weekend of art has bestowed itself upon me. Saturday night at The Roxy, Borough High St saw an evening of new-wave Russian documentaries being shown on the back wall. Despite occasional, experimental, soundtrack overload, the two-year-old boy discovering his reflection in a mirror and a white cat with a classic love of string provided great imagery.

To gaze upon this particular wall, at this particular time, cost nothing - pictures for free, you could say...

Sunday night at the South Bank Centre brought an amusing walk towards the river. Life-size figures stood on building ledges, as if about to make the leap of faith. This public work of art by Antony Gormley entitled 'Event Horizon' is also free-to-see, if your eyes happen to notice that is...

Once inside the Purcell Room the John Jorgenson Quintet made there silent entrance from behind the curtain and into the blue & orange spotlights. Every instrument reflected a brilliant colour into the eyes of the audience. From two rows back the gap between two Gypsy Jazz enthusiasts in front of me framed the band perfectly, giving me a wonderful view of the excitement on-stage.

It's a fiery, chest-strutting sound that comes from this band. Jorgenson's own composition, La Journee des Tziganes (Day of the Gypsies) demonstrated incredible technique and control from every band member. "Now, this is a fast one, so listen quick" he announced. I'm sure most of the ears in the audience kept pace but following John's fingers proved a challenge to capture with eyes.

Short, sharp stabs of staccato licks were unfortunately mirrored by long-nailed fingers owned by a South Bank Centre official; "Photos are NOT allowed." Well, that'll learn me... I'll tell you what I learned in that moment - the freedom of the Gypsy Music which the entire room had come to WATCH had been hampered.

Much attention to detail had been ensured that the sound of the band was as they and the audience would enjoy most. Incredible volume changes fluctuated through many of the songs. A pocket dictaphone would do no justice to the massive range of audible brilliance that the band displayed.

Much attention to detail had been ensured that the visual stimulation of the show was to both the band and audience's liking. I believe I've mentioned the lights and the colour of the intruments, alongside this the band themselves dressed with consideration for the show's look & feel. My pocket camera would do no justice to the experience of sitting in my seat. It will, however, enable me to take a small, personal momento home with me so that I may remember this experience with more depth.

Ghost Dance:
Given that he dedicated one number to Sylvia Rushbrooke, I'm sure John would have spent at least one evening this week in Le Quecumbar where John is a patron and Sylvia has built a permanent home for this style of music. There the free spirit of Django's improvisation is encouraged, both by playing and watching. There one may record Gypsy Jazz jams with vintage tape-to-tape devices, take photos or film. The management's fiery taps belong not to their fingers but their toes. There the liberating traditions of the gypsies have not been replaced by rules as stiff as the bronze statues on the roof...

John's website features plenty of good media & you can even buy a T-Shirt of the quintet.

Vocal Range

2007-05-07T13:27:00.000Z

Whilst looking up the standard vocal ranges of classical singers for a side project, I chanced across some fairly exaggerated human beings who sing at extreme ends of the scale. Here's some interesting examples of both high and low natural phenomena:

Operation! The video example...

2007-04-28T13:54:00.000Z

Operation!

2007-04-14T12:02:00.000Z

For twenty-seven years I've managed to evade having doctors slice me up, mess around with my innards and stitch the damage. Friday 13th April has put a right end to that.

In 1985 I rode my very first BMX so close to my friend Richard's that our tyres met just prior to him slamming the brakes on. I flew straight over him & his bike, landing on my head in front of the melle, shortly followed by my own bike which landed on top of me. On analysis at Maidstone hospital no stitches were needed as my hair was deemed just long enough to tie together over the gash, holding the two sides of skin together with the aid of spray glue.

Jumping decades forward to 2005, in an attempt to keep up with Jon on the piste, a snowboarding accident in Chamonix described by Mike (following my line a few yards back) as a 'biblical stack!' brought me to my knees. After a week of denial that saw me fly down the slopes with no change of tactic other than not to fall on my right hand at all, attempt working with a mouse back at work complaining that something doesn't feel quite right, and a visit to the staff nurse & phisiotherapist I decided a quick xray at St. Barts would be a good idea, just for peace of mind. Three months later my fourth and final cast came off my broken wrist & I could finally look forward to a year of joint-loosening before normality reigned again.

Yesterday's operation was quite an eye opener. Firstly this was a private hospital. It was more like a stately home with real-life bedrooms than organised wards & structure found in an NHS hospital. I saw no other patients there but me. While waiting in St. Georges in Tooting for plaster casts to be replaced I sat between plenty of broken arms & legs, frail, elderly people on their last legs and car crash victims, still covered in blood and sporting a face stacked with remorse. Interesting sights which help put perspective on one's situation but regardless, not pleasant to see.

My first general anaesthetic was really quite good fun. Even the anaesthetists were fun people, three in all, one of whom dubbing himself 'Dangerous-Dan' for the day. The sensation of the cold drug-cocktail moving slowly up my forearm was exactly as they had described it would be. Somehow though, this cocktail skipped my upper arm & landed directly inside my brain, fizzing wildly akin to a soda-stream mid-carbonating, what a buzz! I remember no more. The other good thing about the anaesthetic is that the drug-dregs lasted into the night, allowing me some time off the pain for my first evening home after the op. Sadly, the bruising and swelling and aching has set in today & walking is not much fun. Mumbling about various problems & shuffling hunched around the house I feel like Montgomerie Burns on a good day.

Barney Kessel

2007-03-14T18:58:00.000Z

This morning I discovered Barney Kessel on some DVDs hired from Amazon.co.uk - Legends of Jazz Guitar, volumes 1-3. To my ears he instantly stood out from the other greats on the film.

Firstly his choice of song was to my liking; Lady Be Good, Samba De Orfeu, and others that I love to play.

Secondly, his comping with walking basslines is another method I'm most interested in; a brilliant technique for the arrangement of two guitars with no bass player.

Lastly he solos with plenty of chord tones, something I really wish I could understand how to play.

Here's the afore-mentioned track, Lady Be Good (played with Herb Ellis), showing all of these techniques put to good use:

Charlie Alonzo Bailey

2007-02-10T22:09:00.000Z

It's a boy! Liz & Mike's new baby joined the family tree on Monday morning and they've named him Charlie. Already I can foresee many years of Uncle Bob buying Charlie skateboarding equipment every February! After last year's tragic death of Ruby, Liz, Mike and Charlie all deserve the best of luck in his years of development. Right now the parents are, to quote 'in heaven' after taking Charlie home. I think he looks really cool.

Borovets 2007

2007-02-02T00:31:00.000Z

This season's snowboarding came about on the cheap and with a bunch of strangers. Leon had organised our trip to Bulgaria for £300 each, less than half what I paid last year to go to Chamonix.

Upon reaching the Hotel Bor (Bulgarian for Pine tree - which Borovets is mostly covered in) our rep was eager to get us out to the nearest bar for the introduction meeting. She had arranged transport in the mode of horse & carts. "How quaint" I thought before we sat in the things and caught a heady whiff of the horses' back ends. Still, an entertaining ride followed when the drivers shook the reigns & dragged us over the bumpy, icy roads with little to no braking ability and an alarming amount of travel in the suspension springs. Welcome to Bulgaria!

The first few days boarding felt quite limited as the lack of new snow meant that about half the resort was shut. We spent most of our time up top where the chance of finding a patch of meadow was at it's least. There's a distinct lack of snowboarders in Borovets & as a result skiers had free reign making bloody moguls. There were no steep parts of any piste though so they only served to give tiny amounts of air, mid-run, and to inspire the building of a larger hump of snow. It was time to get creative with our use of the slopes.

At the top of the highest open red run we scoped the perfect site for our kicker. Snowboards are really just double-ended shovels (or giant trowels). With four boards working together the kicker was up in no time & held fast. Time now for the hard work, hiking up the thigh-deep snow, creating a stairway to a point from where we could gather enough speed for take off.

By this time we had attracted some attention. Apart from those wishing only to see us face-plant into our landing area we met some skiers from Rochester who had just returned from Canada where they had been practising jumps for weeks. A few 360's by them and very un-professional looking jumps from us and the stairway was becoming easier to climb. The runway became faster and with the help of two hip-flasks of scotch at 2500m our confidence grew into what has been known in the last few seasons as 'cheeky time.'

By night Borovets pumps. It's mostly full of young brits aht-on-tha-lash. Aside from listening to the classic-rock busker and drinking £1 beers in the Happy Duck we sampled different boozers every night, in every corner of the town. We arrived at the Titanic bar a little too late to catch the scheduled pub-crawl organised by our rep but upon spying the 90-or-so tequila shots being poured out on the bar it was clear that in Borovets, a pub crawl is slightly akin to a bus, you just get on when it stops. During our 'bus ride' that night we saw some of the most horrendous sights; brits in the karaoke bar, brits stealing kegs of beer, brits falling arse-over-tit on the black ice outside, you get the idea, but somehow it became amusing as the night rolled on...

Paul & Hurls, who had declined the invitation to come out, started the next morning somewhat earlier than us & were less than impressed with our 2pm piste arrival.

Striken with the flu in the last two days I opted for alternatives to snowboarding. Leon & I met an estate agent and went to see the property development where he has bought a studio flat off-plan. Bulgarian safety regulations state that visiting a building site requires no hard-hat, one must shake the hand of every enthusiatic builder and pretend to understand them in your best Bulgarian and that one must be accompanied by the site manager's alsatian at all times. Life in this valley must be quite entertaining. We saw goats eating fences, horses roaming the streets like wild dogs and a farmer herding his turkeys along a footpath with a long, wispy stick.

Before leaving the country we were offered a super-touristy trip around the capital, Sofia, starting at the cathedral of St. Alexander Nevsky. My camera at the ready I was hoping to find some authentic Bulgarian folk-musicians busking. I did spot three blind women singing in a bus shelter but given their melodic short-comings I declined to press record, opting instead to simply furnish their half washing-up bottle with some pocket change.

Stomachs all round were grumbling & the 'Bar Happy Grill' turned up at the right time. Upon entering we couldn't help but notice the three Mafia guys. It was the classic godfather dress; black leather jacket with sheepskin lapels, white suit white shirt white tie, dripping in both gold sovereigns and hair grease. "Don't stare" we all said to each other but it was useless, this was like a scene from the Simpsons with Fat Tony, involuntary sniggering ensued. No photos of these dudes I'm afraid, best to leave the country wearing shoes of leather, rather than concrete.

Eating in Sofia is really quite affordable. Six of us ate starters, two mains (fresh off the slopes, we were hungry) and had two drinks each. When the bill arrived we thought "it must be in Euros," but no, we were told that this was in Bulgarian Levs which meant that our entire table of food & drinks had set us back a whopping £25. "The mafia must be on hard times..."

All in all Borovets was brill. Next year I'd like to sample some American piste as it seems to heave with powder in the USA for most of the season. But at the price it cost us, I'd take Borovets as a second boarding holiday any year.

Stephane Grapelli and Martin Taylor

2007-01-12T13:16:00.000Z

Grapelli's blues licks fill in the spaces with the most beautiful of nuances and Martin Taylor's chord work (look out for the close-up on his fretboard) is absolutely phenomenal. This is one of Django's best tunes, called Swing 42.

Jazz Guitar Lessons

2007-01-11T23:47:00.000Z

After five years of self-taught discipline I have finaly sought the help of another human being in my quest to take over the world with my axe. A quick search on Gumtree.com found me a jazz gutar teacher who lives only a three minute walk away, bonus!

Beginning with an introduction to the CAGED system - something I had previously only heard of, not practised - through some arpeggio and pick techniques and ending with a quick study of walking basslines over The Mills Brothers' 'I Can't Give You Anything But Love' it was a fast-paced first lesson.

Next up, the search for the perfect archtop... If I felt at all worthy here's what I would ideally play; The LeGrande, Gibson's take on Johnny Smith's original guitar design for Heritage in 1989.

Aside from Gibson's lovely build quality I like the idea of the floating pickup. This means the top of the guitar vibrates more freely creating a richer acoustic sound.

Sisterly Greetings From Honduras!

2007-01-06T23:31:00.000Z

Sister Lou & her man have spent this Xmas and New Year in Honduras, mainly to check out the ancient Mayan ruins and to sit by lakes taking relaxing photos. I've never been there, or even considered going there but as always, a few early photos have found their way home through the global interweb and now act as tiny windows to the adventures of Lou & James.

Making an archtop guitar

2006-12-31T01:33:00.000Z

There's a small series of these lovely videos detailing the entire process, here's the first one to get you started, you can watch the rest here on YouTube

The Thumb Piano

2006-12-29T23:55:00.000Z

The first Xmas present I opened this year was this beautiful, half-coconut Thumb Piano from Lou. I'm not entirely sure where she found it but it's great!

House Spiders...

2006-12-22T22:41:00.000Z

I have to agree with Linda Inns of Chester in that I like the little critters being around. In fact, in our house we have a particularly well fed specimen (I've lovingly named him Parker after Spiderman's secret identity) who dines exclusively on the flies who come to inspect the occasional pile of washing up.

Superb musicians at their best.

2006-12-18T23:20:00.000Z

Alison Krauss and Union Station.

Arrrf price yer Racing Post, two fer a pahnd!

2006-12-18T22:38:00.000Z

Interesting times lay ahead since Trinity Mirror announced the sale of the Racing Post. Hopefully whoever buys it will want to spend some money developing the interactive side of the business, and make my job a touch more exciting...

Skateboarding in Maidstone

2006-11-18T14:14:00.000Z

My best bud Steve found this video on YouTube today. The kids skating here have filmed themselves in the Oakwood Park Educational Complex, one of the most diverse, yet least used skate spots in the town.

I literally grew up here, all through secondary school and uni. During the latter years only Steve and I could be found sessioning the St. Simon Stock roundabout, the Oakwood 5 and the KIAD stepping stones. Brilliant works of architecture on the part of Maidstone Council caused the majority of Maidstone skaters to spend their days at the Law Courts and, from around 1998, the ridiculously smooth surface and never-ending, rounded-top, board-sliding wall of the Country Hall surroundings.

What I noticed whilst watching this footage is the style of these guys' skating. It's exactly the same as when I was there in 1995. Maidstone seems to produce a particular type of skater, who's level of ability is capped somewhere below our American equivalents, who's trick list has been aquired from watching older skaters in the scene and influenced by the shapes of the Kent concrete beneath them, myself included. It's like time has stood still.

Kelly Joe Phelps @ Trinity Arts Centre

2006-11-14T23:53:00.000Z

Brilliant. brilliant and brilliant. Kelly Joe is the man. Virtuoso, fingerstyle guitar playing, that famous, rich, gravelly voice and superb songwriting which sits widely between folk and jazz. It was the kind of live performance that makes want to immediately go home & play all his songs, only when I get there I find that my hands are most definitely not his. ..

This is the fourth time I have been to see Mr. Phelps play live. First in a quartet at the Jazz Cafe, second in a trio at The Union Chapel, as a solo artist back at the Jazz Cafe and tonight's gig at Trinity Arts Centre, Tunbridge Wells. This time he brought his banjo along for a couple of numbers including Handful of Arrows. As one of my top five guitarists in the world, ever, I'm heartily looking forward to the next show.

You'd be a fool to miss out if he's playing in your area, find tour dates & more at Kelly Joe's website.

Richard Thompson - Grizzly Guitarist

2006-11-12T10:18:00.000Z

Last year, Werner Herzog's documentary Grizzly Man was released. The tragic hero of this story being Timothy Treadwell, a maverick, Steve Irwin type of character who spent thirteen summers living with wild grizzly bears in an Alaskan nature reserve, and was eventually eaten alive by one of his 'bear friends'.

This film itself is a little monotonous. The general feeling is there from the first five minutes & cutting it's lenth in half may have held my interest more tightly. The animals, of course, are brilliant to watch. Even more entertaining than the bears are the friendly foxes who climb on Timothy's tent and steal his hat!

The jewel in Grizzly Man's crown though is the soundtrack and the hour-long special feature on the DVD showing the group of musicians who scored it, one of whom was Richard Thompson.

Richard's guitar work since his Fairport Convention days is built upon his range of influences which span both jazz greats and rock legends, Django Reinhardt, Louis Armstrong, Jerry Lee Lewis. His style of playing in this soundstrack has all the grace of Mark Knopfler's electric guitar fused with the down-to-earth acoustic sound of John Martin. He explains his musical philosophy; "I always liked a sound that is harmonically sophisticated, but crude. If you take those edges away, you've got a load of notes, but no music."

This footage is well worth watching, it's the creation of the glue that holds the Grizzly Man main feature together.

Cycling To India

2006-11-11T17:22:00.000Z

There are people out there doing amazing things. In April this year, two friends of Jon's rolled out to the beginnings of a massive endeavour. Yes, as the title of this post suggests, they really are cycling to India, from Canary Wharf! It's all in aid of a jolly bike ride and of course to raise money for charity, two charities in fact: MSR and Cornerstone which provide support for disabled people.

For those who like a good read I can recommend John and Sally's online diary detailing each leg of their trip with photos and excellent travel writing. So far they have peddled through Strasbourg, Munich, Vienna, Budapest, Zalau, Bucharest, Istanbul, Amasya and Dogubayazit in Turkey.

Join them in their last few legs as they close in on Delhi

Chamonix 2006 Video

2006-11-10T18:30:00.000Z

This blog started too recently to capture a post about this particular holiday. But the experimental video that it spawned still lives. We did actually do some snowboarding while we were there, honest...

Jet @ Brixton Academy

2006-11-09T15:40:00.000Z

"What are you doin' Wednesday night?" said Scott. "Wanna come see Jet?" After filling up at Subway in Green Park the thought of watching the band who wrote Are You Gonna Be My Girl was arresting. Sadly the gig left me unsatisfied with my evening.

My musical taste favours strong melodies in both a well crafted, considered song or an improvised approach which builds excitement for both artist and audience. This decade (I'll refer to it as the Noughties) has so far been built on simple, chord based, trendy rock. The Killers, Franz Ferdinand, Razorlight, etc. etc. etc. bland, bland, BLAND! These bands - according to the Noughties - propose to rock your world when they get on stage. So why is their play count so woefully low in my iTunes library?

I had expected more from Jet. Raucous rockers from down under I'd thought. Hmm... perhaps they were once wild, I couldn't say. From the back of Brixton Academy I heard no edgy songwriting, saw all of three crowd surfers and tapped my foot to the same tempo for far too many tracks in succession. Have Atlantic Records polished the grainy rock edges off this act? The excessive lighting rig leads me to believe so...

Are You Gonna Be My Girl was obviously highly enjoyable to shout along to but was slightly murdered by being drawn out with massive pauses, showing clearly that the band know this is their most popular number by a giant, moon's gravity step and feel the need to milk it live.

There's no faulting Nic Cester's super powerful voice, he has an incredible range & shows every gram of manliness with screams of 'YEAH' and 'COME ON!' booting the on-stage energy up to the roof. But throughout the band there is no evidence of virtuoso playing or innovative melodies. Old hat showmanship routines like the windmilling arm whilst atop an ego-stack of amps were accompanied by no more than one chord. Ahem... weren't The Darkness ridiculed for harking back to the 70's? Yet - even as a joke - I never saw Justin Hawkins up on his Marshalls pretending one chord was worth the attention of thousands. That man can really play!

So we reach the answer to the question. A friend told me recently of how rock gods of the past like Hendrix and Page impress him more than chugger-chugger trendy chord bands. These were musicians who had enviable control over their instruments & created a much richer live gig experience. They didn't need to play their heart out all night to a set routine, and you can sense this in their melodies. The saying goes: If you have a Ferrari, you don't drive it though town at 100MPH, you cruise confidently past everyone so that they can all see what you have.

For a more positive outlook on the band, visit Jet's website and MySpace page!

Pistols At Dawn @ Project Orange

2006-10-29T15:39:00.000Z

Having drunk numerous nights away in Soho's Garlic & Shots and The Crowbar I'm stoked to have recently been introduced to Project Orange, another rock bar who's iTunes playlist includes Queens Of The Stone Age, Supergrass (tracks from I Should Coco - awesome!) and Fu Manchu. Only this bar isn't miles away in the middle of London. Rock has come home to the South, a decent stone's throw from Clapham Junction station to be exact.

Last night was a Halloween party featuring four live bands in the basement. Only one of those bands is worth a mention, Pistols At Dawn, a trio who turned up in full skeletal costume and proceeded to rock hard. They had given some sampler CDs out earlier in the evening, track two listed as Bow Down.

This band have great stage presence (ok, the costumes helped but that mask was wicked), a great lead vocalist (fully melodic like Josh Homme from Queens Of The Stone Age), great basslines (think Timmy C. from Rage Against The Machine), great songs (some nice chord changes that reminded me of Alice In Chains and strong poetry throughout - check the band's biography for an example), great musical skill (during Bow Down the guitarist's amp blew, rhythm section jammed - really, really well - for ten minutes until the stage hands got the rig back online), surely this band are destined for a great future.

This was stadium filling material and we saw it up close. Grab some free MP3s from their website or MySpace page

Xavier Rudd - September 12

2006-10-15T15:37:00.000Z

Caliko @ Tenterden Folk Festival

2006-10-09T15:37:00.000Z

The Caliko Acoustic Tour came back home to the South East on Saturday for the Tenterden Folk Festival. Entering the small town by car I took a quick sight-seeing tour of the early happenings of the day. Most of the High Street was alight with white hankies flung far from their Morris Men owners during a hundred strong-precession of colour & mirth. I have to say, Morris Men aren't really my cup of tea, the musical side of the Folk world has so much more appeal...

Jo & Jon were playing in the Eight Bells pub - a folkie's joint for many years - with a Cruella Deville look-a-like singing acapella, a husband and wife outfit straight from the bargain bin, a young singer-songwriter-guitarist with clear and well pronounced vocals, and a burly, northern, harmonious sea shanty quartet - one of whom had the deepest and loudest voice any of us had ever heard.

In the midst of such traditional music, Caliko's songs sounded really quite modern. In particular, Home has a contemporary, warm feeling that reminds me of Zero Seven's first album. Yet in spite of that, not out of place at all. For Jon's musical musings tend toward the story-telling kind. Very much like these traditional songs other folkies have sung for centuries.

New versions of Monsoon & Marty, arranged for just the duo, sounded excellent. Jo's voice sweet as always with great harmonies from Jon creeping into just the right spaces. There was even some inventive use of two capos on one guitar to create an alternate tuning without risking string breakage, curious... what's he building in there?

Caliko have a superb website and MySpace page.

Rare Bites #1 - Mirador

2006-09-30T15:36:00.000Z

Nestled quietly behind the La Victoria Hotel on the Cap Del Pinar in the North Eastern corner of Mallorca is the little known Mirador Restaurant.

The Cap Del Pinar is far away from the standard tourism buzz found elsewhere. After a relaxing drive up the winding mountain road to the hotel car park the foot passage to the front door is no less beautiful. We were seated right next to the edge of the cliff, overlooking the Bay de Pollença to the Cap de Formentor, after arriving shortly before sunset. This has to be one of the most magnificent views I've ever seen whilst sitting down to eat.

Not to be outdone by the scenery, the dishes delivered to the table were amazing. Mostly Mallorcan rustica in style with a generous amount of menu real estate dedicated to fish caught locally. Best of the starters: roasted red peppers filled with crab meat, plush tucker. I opted for the swordfish for mains, a multi-flavorous steak of challenging proportions on an even more impressive plate. Having sampled other guests' Calamari and Lamb courses I have put this eating etablishment into my 'order anything dude, it'll be good' category. So good, that it reminded me immediately of the infamous Hotel Eden restaurant in Chamonix.

No Mediterranean meal would be authentic without the family of ferrel - though even-tempered - cats climbing the grassy hill and waiting in vain for rich pickings. Not a chance mate, my swordfish...

Cycling in The Times

2006-09-12T15:35:00.000Z

A short column from The Times newspaper today. The first paragraph is brilliant.

Antonio Forcione @ The Jazz Cafe

2006-09-08T15:33:00.000Z

FINALLY!! After missing every London gig Antonio Forcione has played for the last two years I caught a brilliant set last night at London's Famous Jazz Venue - The Jazz Café

Antonio's music is breathtaking and the show he puts on is nothing less than sheer performance art. The man effortlessly plays faster than Django, casually builds complex melodies using harmonics and shows off his knowledge of the tensile strength of each of his guitars by pulling both their neck and strings further than I would care to try with any of mine.

After a brief glance at the set list he announced - to the crowd's delight - that he would now play Touch Wood, the title track from his 2003 album. This song is almost entirely played with harmonics and tapping. His bizarre, trebly, tremolo-ridden signature sound emphasises his percussive, crazy string-bending technique.

This quartet are a truly an awesome foursome. The double bassist also accompanied with staccato flute licks and a strange African wind instrument which was nothing more than an orange bamboo stick, but somehow produced a huge range of smoky tones.

The percussionist broke away from his drum kit at every chance to play a wooden, dome-like bass drum with bare hands and a set of tuned plastic tubes, with a pair of flip-flops.

The cellist, although only playing her cello, weaved the most beautiful counter-melodies inside every number. Especially the pair of duets with guitar.

It would be easy to mistake Antonio's solo compositions with two or three guitarists playing simultaneously. Turning towards the stage mid-tune, Lou & Leon could hardly keep their eyes in their sockets...

Lake Taupo Skydive - New Zealand

2006-08-26T15:31:00.000Z

Here's Lou & me taking in the views over Lake Taupo, New Zealand, in November 2004. Get involved

The Happiness @ The Constitution

2006-08-16T15:29:00.000Z

The Constitution in Camden is a great little pub sitting right next to the the canal. Little being the best description really, Paul & I had gone there once before to watch The Happiness play in a sweaty basement no bigger than your average kitchen. This time round (last night) the only remaining space left in the room was taken up by the three busy cameramen filming the band for their up-coming documentary.

The Happiness rock. To stand in front of their amps is to be sand blasted with punky chops & no less than four different vocals. Mr Valentine went down well as per usual & unfortunately I get the feeling that during that particular number my terrible dancing skills were captured forever on film.

For more info on The Happiness and some free MP3s check their website or MySpace page.

Smile @ The Orpheus Centre

2006-08-07T15:29:00.000Z


Written during Acoustic Rock Week at The Orpheus Centre, July 2006

Knights of the Round Table

2006-08-07T15:28:00.000Z


The Quest For The Holy Grail. One of Monty Python's best moments. If this is what the kids are making out of lego nowadays then someone please pass me my slippers. Who remembers the Monty Python Sings album?

The Snare & Brushes

2006-08-06T15:27:00.000Z

After having spent a week playing so many different instruments at The Orpheus Centre I have realised how much fun it is to play the simple snare drum with brushes. With a kind donation from Ma & Pa for my birthday I went to Lavender Hill's Drum Shack and bought this second-hand Gretsch for a cool £100. So far it's seen one short jam before we headed off to Fruitstock. Russ's chilled acoustic guitar playing definitely suits that jazzy shuffle touch.

Fruitstock!

2006-08-06T15:26:00.000Z

For those who missed it - cheers Dave for covering my shift at the Post - Fruitstock was a brilliant venue to celerbate my 27th birthday. Due to slight hangovers from Friday night my strict 1:00pm meet outside the entrance barely got a look-in as we wafted through primary coloured entrances and the ever-increasing crowds at various hours of the day to find our pitch near the most unlikely of park landmarks, "We're right next to a tree!" Bri, Dan, Katy, where were you dancin like?

Ebony Steel Band had started by the time I had arrived. Hey Jude went down well with a Carribean vibe. The Puppini Sisters were fantastic, with voices like bells during that old chestnut Mr Sandman, bring me a dream, bom bom bom bom... It's great to see a group performing old-time tunes. Bring back the pre-war style!

Cheers everyone for all the gifts & cards, and of course for coming to the park for the day. Didn't get to say goodbye to a few of you, sorry, I got stuck in the beer tent on my last mission.

After Arrested Development had finally played those two tracks that everyone knows... the last remaining few came for a swift Katsu Curry in Camden and a stroll up to Primrose Hill to see the city on a clear night.

Sweet Georgia Brown - Up Tempo!

2006-08-03T15:25:00.000Z

Django Reinhardt - rare footage

2006-08-02T15:23:00.000Z


Here's what all the fuss is about when I get jabbering about Gypsy Jazz. It's all this guy's fault, Django Reidhardt. Europes first jazzer to make the music popular over here. If you enjoy this kinda stuff then get yourself down to Le Quecumbar in Battersea, it's an entire bar designed around 1930's Parisian jazz with art nouveau decor, nice...

All Of Me - Hot Club of Pacific

2006-08-02T15:22:00.000Z

Whilst reading a gypsy jazz blog written by the rhythm guitarist of Hot Club of Pacific, Jack Fields, I saw this video posted & had to learn the song. A old jazz standard called All Of Me.

Hot Club Pacific perform here at Savanna Jazz, January 8, 2006: Marc Schwartz, lead guitar; Jack Fields, rhythm guitar; Barry Porter, accordion. Featuring special guests: Noah Freedman, violin; Simon Planting, bass.

Acoustic Rock Week - Orpheus Centre

2006-07-29T15:21:00.000Z

The last week, July 23rd to 29th has been amazing. I went to volunteer at the Orpheus Centre in Godstone, Surrey with fellow muso's Jon, Jo, Russ & Sam. The Orpheus Centre is an institution set up by Richard Stilgoe (composer of Phantom of the Opera, Cats & a few more) which helps disabled young adults to develop confidence and independence through performing arts. Our main objectives were to help the aprentices and students on the course realise the music they wanted to write, and to make copious amount of tea & toast, morning, noon and night!

This has been my first experience of helping those less fortunate than myself & I can't help but be amazed at how much these guys get out of a course like this. There's been cheers & tears for the most part of the week but to see the emotions after the concert was a real experience.

Acoustic Rock Week was held together by Head Tutor, Russ. Cheers again Russ for a sterling effort all week long. To use Alex's words, you struck the perfect balance between the songs sounding good, and us all looking ridiculous! Not content with leading our group of misfits to stardom, Russ was also instrumental in the staging of the Flip-flop-flop-flip-flip-off. Here's Russ in preparation for the synchronised flop-flipping tournament.

We managed to write a song with each of the apprentices who joined us for the short course. The weather conditions inspired most of the subject matter & the students were feeling the summer vibe. "Too Damn Hot" and "The BBQ Song" grooved jazzily around the gardens, "The White Hat", "Cowboy And My Father" and "Smile" grew straight out of America's southern roots and into the barn where we spent hours rehearsing for Friday night's show.

The concert was a great success and all the students had their chance in the spotlight. Other 'special moments' included Jon & Jo's cossack dancing (although folky Jon reminded me more of a morris-man), Sam & myself chicken-strutting in cowboy hats & nipple-pinging braces and the end-of-night, air-guitarist, ever-so-slightly camp, pelvic-thrusting dance troopers during "I Live For Rock & Roll".

Simon & Carolyn's Wedding

2006-07-12T15:19:00.000Z

Having arrived home from Cornwall at 1:00am Saturday 11th July, I found myself awoken by my TV at 10:00am and rushing around looking for my mod-style target cufflinks. After one of the hottest bus rides of my London life, suited & booted, I arrive at Putney Methodist Church just in time to collect my spanking blue tie & flower for the button hole.

Soph, Vic & Kirsty all looked beautiful in their usher's outfits & it was great to catch up with a few old familiar faces. I, however, looked rosy as a beetroot sporting my new Cornwall-made sunburn. Luckily the church was fairly wooden & the light inside helped make me look a tad more golden whilst reading Simon's late Grandfather's slushiest of poems, 'Beautiful Love'.

Back at the Ham Polo Club the reception got underway with fantastic canopés and bottomless Pimms. The obligatory giant Jenga and Connect Four made for a welcome entrance for the beaming two as they arrived in a vintage Jaguar. The food was amazing, a full hog-roast with a really tasty summer fruit sauce, crackling pieces longer than the plates, a huge basket of olive-studded bread and all followed by bowls of the most perfect strawberries I've ever seen. Same size, same shape, flawless.

After some very amusing speeches - which left everybody under the impression that I had mistakenly pulled a man on the stag weekend, hmm... - we all bet that the 'champion pair of snoggers' would look good on the dance floor, and so they did. Both Bride and Groom looked almost as good as those amazing strawbs during their smoochie poochie under the DJ booth. As per usual the parents were left to get eveyone else into the idea of dancing & even I graced the stage with Simon's littlest of sisters. Now, none of your cheek!

Mother Ivey's Bay

2006-07-10T15:16:00.000Z

Two months into the Caliko Acoustic Tour I met up with Jon & Jo for some fun in the sea with wetsuits & body boards. The choice of beach; Mother Iveys Bay, Padstow, the conditions; mostly thunderous, sea like a sheet of glass, the fun rating; a brilliant 9 points out of 10!

After the kind offer to stay in the Caliko awning I managed to persuede the receptionist to let me stay for free at the caravan park, my little Polo however pushed my accomodation fees up to a massive £12 for the week. Once the slightly ill-fitting awning had been customised & set up it made for a comfortable night's sleep... until a seagull danced on the roof, noisy critter. Here's Jon offering the finest of breakfasts from the Caliko burger van.

One evening's amusement included Pete's infamous remote controlled plane which, piloted by Suzanne, flew for at least 30 seconds before making it's final crash-landing of the night. Dirt in the propellor engine and missing wheels mattered not. Reparations were swift and she lives to fly again.

Aside from flat eggs at the burger van (the Surfer's Challenge half-pound burger proved a hit for some reason...) and post-surf BBQs there was no topping the Harlyn Inn Carvery. While Jon baby sat chin-gripping Frank, Rob & Marianne filled plates resembling views of Chamonix with mountainous peaks of every imaginable roasted vegetable, including the ludicrously tasty honey-glazed parsnips.

When the waves were around there was plenty of action & I learned enough technique by the end of the week to get myself into the right position to catch a small wave. After struggling with the fins I was advised to try Pete's man-from-Atlantis webbed gloves which sure make swimming faster but require shoulder muscles like He-Man.

Jon had the right idea & took regular surfing breaks to return to the comfort of the beach pitch & repeatedly play Kelly Joe Phelps numbers on his Mini Martin. After a week with little sun we found ourselves back at Harlyn Bay on 'Big Friday' where the waves had a four-foot face and the sun took as many minutes to burn each of us to a crisp... except George & Frank, who's factor fifty served them well.