tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83981225555657368142024-03-13T05:03:34.360-07:00The Thoughts Of Chairman ArthurA mixed bag of music, movies, books, TV, theatre etc that I enjoy, with a little autobiographical context thrown in for good measure.Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-29471226131906329832014-03-21T16:03:00.000-07:002014-03-21T16:03:15.631-07:00I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister (Chairman) Arthur...... in praise of The Shadows 'early years'The Shadows, through their very early 'early stuff' (1960-62) provide the perfect soundtrack to the black and white world in which we existed somewhere between Elvis going off for his army stint and the arrival of The Beatles. Those classic early singles; 'Apache', 'FBI', 'Man Of Mystery' evoke vivid images of grimy post war austerity, finger clicking youths in smoky coffee bars, Ealing comedies, Cold War paranoia and the likes of Albert Finney, Tom Courtenay and Dirk Bogarde as angry young men in gritty suburban dramas. Not a world I remember first hand you'll understand (born in 1964) but certainly a world still being played out on the TV of my early 1970s childhood.<div>
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I grew up regarding The Shadows as a kind of comedy act; hardly surprising really when they could regularly be seen goofing around in the Cliff Richard movies shown on TV during the school holidays, or as main features of the Saturday Morning Pictures at Wood Green Odeon, not to mention the regular goofing around on Cliff's own TV Show, a kind of 1972 version of 'Saturday Night Take Away' usually on just after Pertwee era Dr Who. By the time I hit my teens however, they had become what I then regarded as grinning old men in cardigans, twanging away at MOR cover versions and taking up valuable TOTP time, whilst I sat all teen stroppy, hoping for an appearance by The Jam, The Stranglers or The Specials. Even The UK Subs would do......</div>
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One of the first singles I ever acquired was a Shadows single. I remember going to a church jumble sale, aged about five and a half, somewhere around the summer of 1970. Somewhere amongst the 'jumble' I must have spotted and picked up what I thought was a copy of the then current England World Cup song, 'Back Home', but I had in reality picked up a copy of 'The Frightened City' and read the wrong side. I loved that single and took it into school with annoying regularity each and every end of term 'record party' until, as kids tend to do, I moved on and just kind of forgot about it.</div>
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Of course, along came Bowie, The Beatles and eventually punk, The Jam and all the other stuff I got into as I grew. As for The Shadows, well they just goofed around in the background, twanging away in their cardigans and my once precious single most likely found it's way back to another jumble sale.</div>
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Fast forward then a decade or so to 1988 and I was spending a weekend near the Lake District with my fiance and some friends, most of which we spent sheltering from constant rain in a welcoming but fairly down at heel pub, in which there was a jukebox that seemed to play 'Wonderful Land' if someone so much as coughed in the bar . I was so taken by this tune that we ended up having it played at our wedding the following year and - such is the mix of emotions it generates - I have threatened those I will one day leave behind with a full on clanking chains and wailing haunting if it does not get played at my funeral. In my humble opinion, the most beautiful melody you could possibly hear. So, two decades and just two tunes of any real bearing, but I did at least pick up a copy of '20 Golden Greats' when we got back from the Lakes.</div>
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My inspiration for writing this - and apologies for any rust around the edges, I haven't so much as tried to write anything of note in a long while - was a recent (and completely on a whim) bargain price download of 'The Shadows - The Early Years (1959-1966)' box set ('box set' meaning in my case, a completely intangible collection of MP3 files rather than 6 shiny CDs and a booklet) which I had a whole lot of fun - in a sad kind of way - splitting up into all the separate studio albums, EPs, singles and b-sides. Being a '20 Golden Greats Only' follower so far, there is much to be enjoyed and discovered. Without doubt, the 1960-62 era stuff - this was the era when they probably were the biggest British band in terms of chart success and popularity - is the strongest, with some real treasures to be found amongst the more familiar tunes ('Peace Pipe' - the b side of 'The Savage' is a current favourite) Other top notch discoveries are the tracks that make up the slightly western themed debut EP from 1960 and the emotive Spanish music to be found only on an EP called - you guessed it - 'Los Shadows'</div>
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The later stuff (1963-66) - from the years when the hits were harder to come by and popularity waned in the wake of the Beatles / Stones / Who / Kinks there is much to discover too. Not everything works, especially some of the Beatle-ish vocal tracks, but listened to with an open mind and a curious ear, there is so much in this body of work to enjoy and hopefully provide a soundtrack to everything the average day can throw your way, good bad or indifferent. I'm pretty sure that this is where it will stop for me - I can't really ever envisage myself getting into their later 'twangy cover versions in cardigans' stuff, but I'm glad to have this huge collection to get tucked into in the lighter, warmer months to come.</div>
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On a final note - I discovered recently that Jerry Lordan who wrote two of The Shadows most famous hits; 'Apache' and 'Wonderful Land' amongst other tunes and songs that they recorded, went to the same school that I did, admittedly about 30 years before me, so no tales of shared smokes by the cricket nets or punch ups near the music house sadly. I don't recall any sort of acknowledgement of this; perhaps a statue is in order..........</div>
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Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-78733956156676519862012-06-15T08:37:00.002-07:002012-06-15T08:37:35.660-07:00Boys, with toys, electric irons and TVs. Happy 40th Birthday to Bowie's 'Ziggy Stardust'Continuing my spirited but sporadic autobiographical trawl through the Bowie back catalogue, it seems fitting that we give his 1972 breakthrough album ‘The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars’ (usually referred to as just ‘Ziggy Stardust’ or ‘Ziggy’) the Chairman’s once over, considering the album celebrates it’s 40th Anniversary this week. Crikey – 40 years?<br />
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40th Anniversary celebrations abound. Some of which would put the recent spectacle of HRH’s Jubilee to shame. I for one would have loved to have gone and had my sagging, jacket potato face photographed in Heddon Street, just off Regent Street, where the iconic front cover photo of Bowie was taken, standing under the ‘K West’ sign (no longer there) guitar in hand. I didn’t make it to Heddon Street, but I did manage to make it into the brim of Drew Crow Star’s top hat during his excellent rendition of ‘Moonage Daydream’ recorded and filmed as his own tribute (it's on You Tube!) That will do nicely.<br />
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When I first heard Ziggy I was 8 years old and it would have been early in 1973 (Bowie of course was by that time a global superstar, just about to release the follow up; ‘Aladdin Sane’ and would, just a few months, later kill off Ziggy completely in a shock announcement at the end of a gig at the Hammersmith Odeon – but such was the pace at which the great man moved in those days) Although by that time I already loved music and records genrally, I was, lets face it, only 8, and therefore concepts, complex lyrics and quality of production would have been lost on me for a good few years yet, but I had already been blown away by the legendary Top of The Pops performance of ‘Starman’ the previous year and I already owned my first Bowie single, a copy of ‘The Jean Genie’, which was a gift from a Catholic missionary priest and friend of my Mum’s (he sent it to me in the post, along with a copy of ‘Burning Love’ by Elvis for my sister Maria) but that is, of course, another story.<br />
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My brother Brian – a regular in these blog tales of mine, was sent down one evening to St Paul’s in Wood Green to meet me from cubs and of course walked me home along the alley-way alongside the railway lines – the alley-way we were under no circumstances allowed to walk along – and said something like “right then Col; I’m going to smoke a cigarette. You are not going to say anything to Mum and Dad and when we get home I’m going to let you listen to my Ziggy Stardust LP” Seemed like a result to me.<br />
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Much as I’d love to go on and on about how it ‘blew me away and changed my life’ etc, it didn’t really - at first – certainly not as much as the fear and thrills on first hearing as ‘Diamond Dogs’ (see earlier entry) or the tears of anger on my first hearing of ‘Low’ (see future entry) but it was still a very special experience. Looking back, that cunningly contrived piece of (I have to say – having never been a snitch – unnecessary) bribery by my beloved brother was the real beginning of my love of Bowie’s music and that first listen became a second, third, etc until poor old Brian probably got fed up with hearing the album because I played it so much.<br />
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Nowadays I make no secret of it, Ziggy is not my favourite Bowie album (fond of it as I am). I think he had made better before it (Man Who Sold The World) and would go on to make better after it (where do I begin?) but I am pretty sure it is his best album – if that makes sense. Forty years on, in an era where, sadly, Bowie has not released a new album in nearly a decade, it continues to be massively influential and a very important record, containing some of Bowie’s finest songs; ‘Moonage Daydream’, ‘Rock And Roll Suicide’, ‘Starman’ and ‘Suffragette City’ to name just a few.<br />
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A couple of weeks ago I was lucky enough to see the great Mike Joyce doing a DJ set at a photo exhibition preview at Camden Proud. He played ‘Suffragette City’ early on in the set and it was enough for me to just look around the room and see the affect it still has on kids of all ages. I also remember like it was yesterday – of course – when the Ziggy album was 20 years old back in 1992; at that time Nicky Campbell was a Radio 1 DJ doing the 10 – 12 slot (not sure where Peel was) and he described Ziggy as ‘the Sgt Pepper of glam rock’ I thought that statement was a bit crass at the time and still do, however, if you consider that The Beatles initial idea of Sgt Pepper was to create a fictional band behind which they could hide themselves, then I suppose the comparison makes sense.<br />
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Ziggy Stardust was the first of many personae and characters behind which the real David Bowie (if there ever was or is a ‘real’ Bowie) hid. All he had to do was give these characters life, which he did, astonishingly.<br />
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So, a very happy 40th birthday to this fine record. If you haven’t heard Ziggy for a while, give it a birthday listen. If you have never heard it – now is the time. Just remember to pay good attention to the strict instruction on the LP sleeve;<br />
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‘To be played at maximum volume’<br />
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More to follow…….<br />
<br />Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-53091580310490630482012-05-16T01:10:00.000-07:002012-05-16T01:10:29.433-07:00From out of the cellar.........Blimey. Has it really been over a year? That's disgraceful.<br />
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Confined to the cellar, with only Mrs Norman Bates, an intimidating glow in the dark Jesus, a life size Edwardian sideshow mechanical laughing clown (with a tendency to ‘go off’ at random) – oh and a pen, paper and a job lot of Pot Noodle, Arthur has been wrestling with a bit of writer’s block. Time to make amends…….. <br />
<br />Haven't even got a subject for this one to be honest, this is more like a dip of the toe back into the water, a cautious peep back into the daylight with squinting, dazzled eyes before - hopefully, I might feel inspired enough to get cracking once again on my enthralling tales of what I had for supper the day I first heard 'Hunky Dory' whilst watching episode 2 of 'The Talons Of Weng Chiang' (come to think of it, I could think of worse ways to spend a Saturday evening...)<br />
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I won't try and recap as far as back as Easter 2011, the night I wrote my last blog about 'Diamond Dogs' I reckon I'll just try and summarise 2012 so far, seeing as time is flying by at it's usual rapid rate and it might as well still be January considering how wet, cold and miserable it is outside. 15th May? Never.<br />
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The year started with a cracking New Year do courtesy of my sister and her family, which led inevitably to a filthy hangover the next day which I rode out by listening to Stuart Maconie on BBC6 playing 20 minute long epic freakouts by some early 1970s looney tune called Don Bradhsaw Leather. Still, if you're going to try and learn / hear something new every day, you might as well start on 1st January. I was supposed to be starting an ambitious podcasting project this year and my daughter Hayley gave me a lovely headset / microphone combo for Christmas for this exact purpose. Sadly, the bit of podcasting I had done in the past had been in the company of (and with all the technical expertise of) the seasoned old pros at Simply Syndicated, but it's a different story when trying to go it alone, without others there to bounce off (and to do some of the talking!) and a knackered old PC on it's last legs, even if you have got a superb, sexy and stylish headest / microphone combo (thanks Hay x) However, all is not lost on that front and I do still plan to get it up and running some time this year. Perhaps I ought to just get drunk one evening and crack on with it. We shall see.<br />
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Another huge but welcome distraction this year is that I also got for Christmas a Kindle, which I know wouldn't have come easy owing to our ongoing shaky circumstances, making it even more special. Of course these little things cost big pesetas to fill up, so naturally enough, like most new Kindle owners who are in their cups, I filled a large chunk of it's memory with 'the classics' - all in the public domain and can be downloaded completely and legally free. I won't start banging on about what I have read so far this year, but I am unashamed to admit that I love a lot of the Victorian and Edwardian fiction and it provides genuine escapism when times are stressful - for some reason a bit of Wilkie Collins, H G Wells or W M Thackeray can have the same calming effect on me as a few Scott Walker albums or a box set of The Persuaders on a damp and miserable weekend.<br />
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So that was another idea - a 'blog, son of blog' based on classic books. Nothing too scholarly, no big frilly blouses and catching the clap in the hills of Italy, just a light hearted guide and recommendation, much as I do with my favourite albums. The idea is big within my heart and mind, but not so easy to get going. I might need to consult my brother Brian for guidance - I know he usually reads these - what do you think, bruv?<br />
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I also aim to do as much as I can to promote the work of two very good friends of mine, one (Paul 'Ed' Edwards) an aspiring and genuinely excellent author, the other (Andrew 'Drew Crow Star' Warner) an accomplished and very talented musician, composer, songwriter, recording artist and performer. I aim to promote as much as I can their works (all currently available through various channels) and hopefully have the honour of collaborating with them in doing so. Drew, in fact comments regularly on my blog posts, all of these comments perserved for posterity amongst the back catalogue.<br />
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So, thar's about it for now - I hope to try and get back into this, if not daily or even weekly, but certainly a bit more often than yearly! I would love to hear from anyone who reads this - and my thanks to those who do - with any ideas you may have, a favourite record, film, TV show, book, play etc that you think might benefit if I took it down to Arthur in the cellar along with his meagre supper so that he might give it the Chairman's treatment.<br />
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More to follow?<br />
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<br />Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-54555910588844775942011-04-24T13:14:00.000-07:002011-04-24T14:17:13.222-07:00Coke, Crisps, Refreshers and Fleas The Size of Rats - let's have a listen to 'Diamond Dogs'<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Watersmeet</span> forever!!!<br /><br />A few nights ago (Good Friday 2011 to be precise) I could not sleep for love nor money (or even a bit of both) so I ended up reaching for the ever faithful <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ipod</span> and instead of the soporific tranquility of Brian <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Eno's</span> 'Thursday Afternoon' which usually does the trick, I felt awake and jittery enough to listen to Bowie's 'Diamond Dogs'. I got through the whole album, still couldn't sleep and then lay there conceiving the blog I am about to write. As this is the first chance I have had to sit down and get the thing written, I hope it comes across as well as it did in my head at 3am the other morning..............<br /><br />I am pretty convinced that I became the person I am today - at least in terms of how I love music and how music affects me - on a particular night in 1974 when I was a mere 9 years old. Mum and Dad went out for the evening and the usual list of babysitters must have been so unanimously out of action that the job eventually fell with my brother Brian and a few of his friends. Our folks left Brian with a list of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">do's</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">dont's</span>, vague bedtimes for us all and the price of a Chinese <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">takwaway</span> for all. The 'Chinese take away' the boys went and bought consisted of a bottle of Teachers, 40 cigarettes and enough Coke, crisps and sweets to keep the rest of us happy and also quiet. To complete the picture, the two brothers from up the road arrived with a copy of the recently released 'Diamond Dogs' which was played, over and over, on Dad's old radiogram for the entire evening. I don't remember there being any respectful, silent appreciation of the album - it was just kind of happening in the background, but as the older boys got more and more hammered on Whiskey and I got more and more charged on the sugar and inevitably deadly additives in cheap 1970s sweets I became more and more transfixed with what I was hearing. Quite content to stand in a corner out of the way, chopping Townsend-like at my makeshift tennis <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">racquet</span> guitar, I couldn't quite believe that music could have such a physical affect on a human being, as goosebumps rose on my arms, my scalp tingled and my chest hurt (it wasn't the three packs of Refreshers I had scoffed either) Not only was I transfixed by the album, I was also terrified by it as well, particularly the howl that kicks it all off and the terrifying imagery in the spoken 'Future Legend' that follows, as 'fleas the size of rats' suck on 'rats the size of cats' - In fact, for at least a year afterwards, I played 'Diamond Dogs' with numbing regularity, but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">everytime</span> carefully placed the needle far enough over to miss out 'Future Legend' completely. I'm sure my brothers and my sister will remember just how scared I was of an album I enjoyed so much.<br /><br />So the evening in question came to a not too sticky end. We managed to tidy up, get our comatose babysitter into bed and his friends off home - in fact we even managed to somehow muster up a chow <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">mein</span> and a couple of spring rolls from somewhere, just to make the deception complete. (Sorry Mum and Dad - it was all Brian's fault of course) and eventually Brian got his own copy of the album, only for me to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">comandeer</span> it and play it until I wore the vinyl out.<br /><br />'Diamond Dogs' is an exceptional album, possibly Bowie's best (very close though - my jury is still out on what is my actual favourite, if indeed I even have one) Whilst is misses a lead guitarist of the calibre of, say Mick <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Ronson</span> or Earl Slick (at that time, past and present Bowie guitarists respectively) as Bowie himself opted to play all the guitars on the album, you do still have the wonderful <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">avant</span> guard piano of Mike <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Garson</span> and some excellent sax playing from Bowie himself who also brings in Moog and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Mellotron</span> synthesizers to great and eerie effect. Aside from the chilling 'Future Legend' you get the (very Stones like) glam shuffle of the title track and the lead off single 'Rebel Rebel', the US Cop Show funk of '1984', the rousing ballad 'When You Rock and Roll With Me' and the dark and sinister 'We Are The Dead' - which is one of my favourite Bowie lyrics (it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">wasnt</span> until years later when I bought a CD release with printed lyrics that I realised that what I thought was him singing 'funky bumps' is actually 'fuck-me pumps'). The real moment of magic on the album comes with the ten minute medley 'Sweet Thing / Candidate / Sweet Thing Reprise' - a beautiful and melancholy construction in which Bowie compares casual sex to 'putting pain in a stranger' and invites his friend / lover to 'buy some drugs and watch a band and jump in the river holding hands'. The whole show ends with the eerie <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Mellotron</span> 'choir' that introduces the prayer like appeal to a higher God of 'Big Brother' (this 'choir' effect would be used to similar grand effect a decade later on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">XTC's</span> 'Deliver Us From The Elements' and a further decade later on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Radiohead's</span> 'Exit Music') and ends with the quirky, almost funky, 5/4 shuffle; 'Chant Of The Ever Circling Skeletal Family' and the repeated echo to fade of 'Bro...bro.....bro....bro.....' which to me, did and still does sound like 'Brian, Brian, Brian, Brian' - When you consider the circumstances under which I first encountered this incredible album and then nurtured a love for it that holds strong to this day, that seems quite fitting to me. Cheers Hedge!<br /><br />By the way - if you are one of the kind few to read this blog, please do add yourself as a follower and also you might care to read a lot of the comments added to past entries by my fine friend, the excellent and accomplished musician, poet, performance artist and psychoanalyst to the living dead, Mr Andy Warner, aka Drew Crow Star - I really do appreciate the comments he has added and have no reservation in saying that what he writes is a damn sight better than what I produce. Your good health, My Lord.<br /><br />More to follow?<br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-78016163601295531922011-04-21T15:04:00.000-07:002011-04-21T16:17:50.178-07:00'The Sun Machine Is Coming Down' or "Mum, what's a phallus?" - Bowie's Space Oddity album revisited.....'Space Oddity' (originally released with the imaginative title 'David Bowie') is Bowie's second album, released in 1969, still a good few years before the megastardom that came with 'Ziggy Stardust' I wont go into all the biographical stuff. If interested, why not read THE best Bowie biography of them all; 'Strange Fascination' written by my good friend David Buckley - I'll add a link to his marvellous website at the end of this blog. (Was that okay David? Great. £20.00 should do the trick. No problem. Any time)<br /><br />As you should all know by now (all five of you that read this anyway!) I always write about albums in terms of my own experience and impression of them. And so it came to pass that I first heard 'Space Oddity' the album in the dull summer of 1977. I had just finished my first year at secondary school, adolescence was kicking in and to make matters worse I was carrying a huge pre-pubescent torch for a friend of my life long and therefore long suffering friend Rachel. I dont remember much about this object of my affections now, other than she wore paisley headscarves and at the age 12 already had the demanour of an angry librarian who you have just told that you've dropped your books in a muddy puddle. It never came to anything you understand. Poor Rachel, she had to put up with a lot growing up two doors down the road from me, and I'm sure she did her best to fight my cause with the wonderful Headscarf Harridan. Thanks Rach!<br /><br />The more I have gained in years, the more I regard 'S.O.' as a guilty but quite intense pleasure. Listening to it earlier this evening for a pre blog reappraisal I was relieved to find that I still love it to bits, still sing along with all the words and even still get a bit excited at the end of the lengthy hippy indulgence of 'Cygnet Committee' - a song that completely blew me away when I first heard it. The album is in places, let's be honest, as cheesy as a great big overripe Brie and with all its late 1960s fey folkiness it does sound at times like it was conceived, performed and recorded by Trevor and Simon's legendary early 1990s kids TV pastiche 'Singing Corner' but this all adds to its undoubted charm I'm sure.<br /><br />Back in 1977 I hadn't read a single Bowie biography and had no real regard or concern for any chronology in his work so as far as I was concerned he had always been a big famous rock star and hadnt spent the whole of the 1960s in vain pursuit of a hit single or two. He was also, of course, light years away from the loved up hippy folk rock of Space Oddity by 1977 and was about to release 'Heroes'. I cared not.<br /><br />Of course things get underway with the title track, about which I cannot say any more really and I expect if you are reading this then you may well have heard it a few times already. This is followed by the easy going bo diddley jam of 'Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed' which (honestly) prompted me to ask "Mum, what's a phallus?" because of the line 'I'm a phallus in pigtails'. 'Letter To Hermione' and 'An Occasional Dream' are (in my opinion) two of Bowie's most enduring love songs. Terribly dated of course, and there is still that urge to shout 'swing your pants' from time to time but I still reckon they are very sweet and slightly melancholy songs. 'Cygnet Committee' clocks in at just under 10 minutes and is Bowie's passionate rant against the hippy principles. It is a bit cringe inducing with hindsight, but I still love it and just a few hours ago I was relieved to still find myself bellowing out 'I want to livvvaaaah' at the end, the goosebumps rising on my arms once more. Bowie's ode to 'Janine' (a name given such a bad press in the aftermath of Spinal Tap and Eastenders) is a little more lively and the strange but beautiful 'The Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud' sounds like something from an avant garde late 1960s stage show. Possibly that was the intention at the time? One of my favourite songs on the album is the Dylanesque 'God Knows I'm Good' - a genuinely sad tale of a poor and skint old dear reduced to pilfering from a supermarket (a tin of 'Stewing Steak' no less) and getting caught in the process. I was very moved indeed. Still am. The poor old woman. Someone give her a shilling to pay for it and let's let bygones be bygones you bastards!!! And so to the final song, the hippy anthem that never was, and none other than Bowie's own 'Hey Jude' (if I say so myself) - 'Memory Of A Free Festival' Actually, its great. OK there's the grimace inducing, posh Cambridge spoken intro ("errm, maybe I should announce it") and some pretty hairy hippy imagery ("We talked with tall Venuisans passing through") but so what. Just as I did (quietly) as a 12 year old, headscarf fixated, pre-teen oik back in 1977, I found myself singing (loudly); 'The Sun Machine is coming down and we're gonna have a party' over and over again earlier this evening with great passion, and feeling all the better for the experience.<br /><br />As an early Bowie album this is indeed 'rugged and naive' but to me it is still incredible nonetheless.<br /><br />More to follow.....<br /><br />Col<br /><br />PS Visit David Buckley's website here;<br /><a href="http://www.david-buckley.com/">http://www.david-buckley.com/</a><br />He is a seriously good rock writer, a thoroughly decent bloke and I do hope to have the chance to get inebriated with him in person at some stage in the very near future.Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-76346440947913420022011-04-01T13:07:00.000-07:002011-04-01T13:17:03.879-07:00Let's have a listen to 'Music In A Dolls House' by FamilyThere are times when only the unlikely combination of a bacon sarnie and a large whiskey will do. But as I doubt there is the makings of either in the kitchen at the moment and a lightning trip over to Chorleywood is not practical at this moment in time, a coffee and a couple of the ‘toffee pennies’ – you know, the ones that can remove fillings, or even teeth if you are not careful - from the Quality Streets left over from Christmas will have to do. For someone who claims to have such a broad and varied taste in music, there are still quite a few bands that I only know one song by. If I mention Blue Oyster Cult, Bachman Turner Overdrive, Boston and Golden Earring (to name but a few) I wonder if you could possibly guess which songs they might be? And there’s me getting all irate when people say the only song they know by The Vapors is ‘Turning Japanese’ – talk about double standards. Up until recently, the same applied to Family (their 1973 chart hit ‘Burlesque’, another favourite of my brother Brian, being the song in question) until I read somewhere or another that The Beatles had intended to call what became their eponymous 1968 double (‘The White Album’) ‘A Dolls’ House’, then discovered that Family had beaten them to it with their debut, ‘Music In A Dolls’ House’ This incredible feat of inadvertantly putting one over on the musically omnipotent Fab Four was reason enough for me to want to investigate ‘MIADH’ for myself a few years back. Thankfully good old Milton Keynes library had a lonesome and distinctly under borrowed looking copy in stock. Job done. MIADH is, dare I say it, quintessentially 'British Rock From 1968', in that it blends left over remnants of psychedelia, embryonic progressive rock, back to basics blues rock, folkie ballads and some oddball humour into an addictive and hugely enjoyable 35 minutes or so. Prominent throughout are the distinctive trademark wobbly vibrato vocals of Roger Chapman, backed by the striking falsetto of multi instrumentalist Jim King. As for content, it’s one great big (but massively enjoyable and strangely cohesive) mess of differing themes and styles. Sit back and enjoy the eccentric tally ho and gallop of the opener ‘The Chase’, the beautiful string backed ballad ‘Mellowing Grey’ and the shuffling boogie of ‘Old Songs New Songs’. Jig around a bit to the funky / bluesy ‘Hey Mr Policeman’, the power house rock- reminiscent of late Small Faces – of ‘Winter’ and the dreamlike tick / tock of ‘Breeze’. The psychedelic phased drums and mellotrons of the mini epic ‘3xTime’ close the album, but not before you get a short raucous blast of ‘God Save The Queen’ – and that’s only half of what is on offer here. Both Jim King and bassist Ric Grech (who went to join Clapton, Baker and Winwood in ‘Blind Faith’) left the band one year later after the band released their follow up, the more mature but equally impressive ‘Family Entertainment’, but the band continued, developed and went from strength to strength. Family continued to produce some fine records well into the 1970s (I have since caught up with most of their back catalogue and would recommend ‘Family Entertainment’ and ‘Bandstand’ for further listening) but would never again produce something quite so whacky and wonderful as ‘MIADH’, without doubt one of the great British albums of the late 1960s. More to follow.......Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-34134412101222452962011-03-30T15:52:00.000-07:002011-03-30T16:32:06.222-07:00Let's have a game of 'Random Ten'........ please?<p align="justify">Be happy people, if you can. And remember to spell 'happy' with a Little H.</p><br /><p align="justify">Here we go with a little more of my blog and it's time for a game of ‘Random 10’ – its easy to play. All you need is a collection of music on a pc or portable device and a random or shuffle button. So as not to appear in any way technically prejudiced, you can play this with a stack of CDs, tapes, or vinyl, but in that case you would also benefit from a blindfold, a willing accomplice and a vivid imagination (suggested instructions and rules could be supplied on request. Yes, I do need to get out more) Whether or not this makes for quality blogging material who knows, but I propose to hit ‘shuffle songs’ play through the first ten songs it throws at me and write just a little about each. One very strict rule – no skipping, ignoring or starting again – if it decides to throw a 40 minute Brian Eno ambient experiment into the mix then…… well it will be a long evening I suppose. OK then, here goes…. </p><br /><p align="justify">1. <strong>King Crimson – Lady Of The Dancing Water</strong>. ‘Uh-oh’ - King Crimson – could be in for a long night after all – no, wait, its under three minutes. Yes, very nice little acoustic number with some very pleasant flute and (what?) trumpet added in. The sound of a misty and mystical medieval glade, without the bad smells and murderous marauding pillagers. From Lizard (1970)</p><br /><p align="justify">2. <strong>Sapphire Thinkers – Please Understand</strong> – Ah, this is good. Sun drenched, harmony filled US psych-pop that’s just edgy enough to avoid being too twee. Yet another excellent discovery thanks to the marvellous Psychedelic Lion website / blogspot (http://psychedeliclion.blogspot.com/ ) Taken from From Within (1969)</p><br /><p align="justify">3. <strong>Echo And The Bunnymen – Monkeys</strong> – Suitably dramatic stuff from their 1980 debut Crocodiles – all echoey guitars and trademark Ian McCulloch histrionics. I was a few years late jumping on this particular bandwagon, after spending a fortnight in Ibiza in the summer or 1984, where ‘The Killing Moon’ was played nightly at the local disco. Crocodiles was given to me later that same year as a pressie for my 20th Birthday. What wouldn’t I give to go back and have 1984 all over again? Certainly not my ipod that’s for sure....... </p><br /><p align="justify">4. <strong>Tears For Fears – Watch Me Bleed</strong> – One of the great pop bands of the 1980s, although I would never have admitted that at the time of course. This is a fairly likeable, but hardly classic track from their debut album The Hurting (1983). Hints at greatness on their debut would be fully realised on the excellent follow up ‘Songs From The Big Chair’ then overdone to the point of bloated excess on their third and final album of the decade ‘The Seeds Of Love’ The older I get the more I am willing to concede that the 1980s was a great decade for British pop music. Right on. </p><br /><p align="justify">5. <strong>Kings Of Leon – Camaro</strong> – I’m still not completely sure about Kings of Leon. Certainly one of the better bands to emerge in the last decade and this is one of their better songs. Good rocking pace, incredible bass and top notch idioosyncratic lyrics about hot chicks in cool cars. From ‘Because of The Times’ their third album released in 2007 </p><br /><p align="justify">6. <strong>Elliott Smith – Christian Brothers</strong>. Starts with the line ‘No bad dream fucker’s gonna boss me around’ – excellent. I got into the music of the late Elliott Smith a few years ago when I heard his superb album ‘Figure 8’ from 2000. This song is taken from his eponymous second album released in 1995 and is fairly standard Smith – intense, breathy vocals over acoustic guitar and lo-fi backing. I’m still getting to know the rest of his back catalogue and I’m sure there will be much of a similar calibre to ‘Figure 8’ to be found. </p><br /><p align="justify">7. <strong>Oasis – (As Long As They’ve Got) Cigarettes In Hell</strong> – I often forget how great Oasis were. And they recorded some cracking b-sides too. This is typically Beatle-ish, complete with a plodding Hey Jude / I Am The Walrus rhythm, Strawberry Fields mellotron and an excellent vocal from Noel, who usually sang at least one b-side per single. This was one of the b-sides on the ‘Go Let It Out’ CD single and to me is yet another heady reminder of the complete insanity that was the fine summer of 2000. </p><br /><p align="justify">8. <strong>Frank Sinatra - The Gal That Got Away / It Never Entered My Head</strong> – From The Reprise Collection box set. Sounds like a live medley from later in his career. I’m still getting my head round Sinatra and hoping that it’s not too much longer before I am able to listen to and enjoy his stuff at other times of the day than 2am when I’m feeling sorry for myself and can’t sleep, but for now that will do nicely. </p><br /><p align="justify">9. <strong>The Beatles – Mr Moonlight (Live At The Star Club, Hamburg 1960)</strong> – Somewhat inevitable that something by this lot would turn up in a random 10 – shame it had to be this one really. Archive Beatle recordings are priceless historical artefacts of course, but in truth they usually sound like a big old heap of turd. I think I have played the Hamburg Live album only once all the way through and this is a reminder of why. I’m sure the all-night, amphetamine fuelled marathon gigs played to pissed up German sailors were incredible if you were there of course. Let’s hope we get a decent finale....... </p><br /><p align="justify">10. <strong>Blur – Till The Cows Come Home</strong> – Oh yes – that will do nicely. Blur’s brilliant 1993 single ‘For Tomorrow’ was the first CD single I bought, having left it quite late to get hold of something to play them on. Remember when you bought ‘Part 1’ of the CD single in a funky package with space to put ‘Part 2’ in that would be released the following week? So I got the box with the aeroplane on and both parts of the single to fit in it. This is one of the b-sides from ‘Part 2’ and is a fair indication of the Union Jack, Knees Up Muvva Brown, Best Of British path that Blur were to tread with their next few albums, which saw them enjoy the peak of their commercial and critical success. </p><br /><p align="justify">So there you have it. Not such a bad bunch at all. If you feel inclined to play this at home, why not send me your ‘Random 10’ lists along with your comments, get a guest spot in the blog and save me all the hard work! Otherwise, I will return soon and there will most definitely be.......... more to follow.</p>Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-69216770679695996992011-03-24T13:58:00.000-07:002011-03-24T14:10:59.839-07:00Hats Off To Led Zep 3............It’s taken quite a few years to come to this conclusion, but ‘Led Zep 3’ is probably my favourite Led Zeppelin album and therefore deserves the questionable immortality an entry in the blog.<br />Up until the Summer of 1979, when a friend at school lent me his copy of Led Zep 4 (the one with ‘Stairway’ on it of course) in order to try and broaden my horizons beyond The Beatles, Bowie and The Jam, Led Zep (in my opinion at the time) belonged to an older generation altogether, namely the greatcoat and granny specs wearing prefects of the Sixth Form at the all boys Catholic school I was attending at the time - basically 17 year old oiks given some degree of authority by teachers who preferred to spend cold break times in the staff room drinking coffee and chain smoking their Embassy Regal. Said prefects would admonish The Jam, Clash, Pistols and Stranglers in favour of the ‘real music’ they listened to; Led Zep, Deep Purple, Genesis, Floyd, Mike Oldfield, hell, probably even a bit of Gentle Giant and Van Der Graaf Generator too. Although this did lead to some puerile but still vaguely amusing playground urban myths being created by us ‘punk’ kids concerning these so called figures of authority indulging in meticulously choreographed and impeccably timed acts of self abuse to the accompaniment of the whole of ‘Supper’s Ready’ by Genesis, somewhere between finishing their physics homework and supper being, indeed, ready.<br />But Led Zep 4 weaved its magic nonetheless – specifically I recall over the weekend of the 1979 FA Cup Final (as a Spurs fan I will still begrudgingly admit it was a thriller of a final) In fact ‘When The Levee Breaks’ is as inextricably linked to Arsenal’s admirable comeback against Man Utd in my head as REM’s ‘Murmur’ album is to the 1986 all Merseyside final. Strange. But True.<br />This opened my eyes and ears to this so called ‘older boys’ music – although I would never have admitted this to the ‘prefects’ of course and I was to be converted to Led Zep instantly (with Floyd, Genesis, King Crimson etc etc etc to follow), slowly acquiring their back catalogue over the next few years. I finally got around to buying a copy of ‘3’ on one of the many trips to the record stall at the indoor market in Watford sometime in the early 1980s – a nice original pressing too with the revolving wheel in the front of the sleeve, from the £1.00 box. I suppose my initial reaction was much the same as that of a lot of contemporary critics when the album was first released in 1970, ie a bit of a let down, way too acoustic and folky, but with perseverance it grew and grew over the years until my £1.00 second hand album became a CD and ultimately an intangible computer file stored on a small and extremely precious little gadget I take with me everywhere I go.<br />One of the most endearing qualities of ‘3’ is the variety within. For those who like their Zeppelin super heavy (and who doesn’t after all) there is the rampant Nordic plunder and pillage of ‘The Immigrant Song’ the jubilant ‘Celebration Day’ and the more ‘traditional’ Led Zep sound of ‘Out On The Tiles’. You also have the beautiful and melodic ‘Tangerine’ the plaintive ‘That’s The Way’ and of course the incredible ‘Since I’ve Been Loving You’ – I’m a bit wary of the lengthy slow blues work out, but this is just incredible in its performance and delivery and possibly my favourite Zeppelin track of them all. But perhaps most of all it is the acoustic / folky stuff that initially met with, well, if not sneers and derision then at least some scepticism, that ultimately makes the album so special. There are the sinister eastern flavoured strings on ‘Friends’, the urgent, mandolin driven gallop of ‘Gallows Pole’ and the foot tapping hoedown of ‘Bron Y Awr Stomp’. Wrap this all up with the sheer insanity of ‘Hats Off To Roy Harper’ that concludes the proceedings and the package is complete.<br />As tranquil as it is intense, Led Zeppelin 3 is a perfect accompaniment to the (hopefully) warmer, sunnier days to come. Well worth revisiting if you haven’t heard it in ages, equally well worth investigating if you have never heard it at all. After all, why should the prefects have all the fun.<br />More to follow………..Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-41086253559331362732011-03-23T15:43:00.000-07:002011-03-23T16:21:56.977-07:00Typical me really. My New Years resolution for 2010 was to write and maintain a daily blog. It started brightly in January and had dried up by the middle of February, barring the odd return; the last being my ecstatic retrospective review of Paul Weller's 'Heliocentric' written during my enthusiastic catch up on his back catalogue early last summer. All the old entries are still there as I log on this evening for the first time since last summer; some are interesting snapshots of where my mind was at just over a year ago, there are some interesting reviews and a few things I will still stand by, but much of it reeks of desperation, when I began to realise that it is not easy to even try to be interesting, amusing and thought provoking on a daily basis and also began to run out of ideas (my tirade against my ineptitude at online fantasy football games and my detailed tour round my 'fittie folder' are particularly awful) In the end the best advice I received was from one of the two (yes, two) followers of the blog, my beloved brother Brian, who suggested I was at my best when reviewing or just rambling on about music, movies, TV shows or books. If Brian was politely saying 'this is because the rest of the stuff is pure shite' (which I'm sure he was, without trying to in any way offend) then it was advice well received and well heeded - apart from what I'm writing now of course.<br /><br />So, a little over a year down the line I suddenly have a thought. 'Why not kick a bit of life back into old Arthur and get the blog going again?' I'm hardly in a good place to be starting to blog again really; I need to keep the momentum going on my search for permanent employment that will go some way towards paying the bills and I am two hefty assignments and a full on exam away from completing the latest module of my degree course (Open University, English Literature and Language) - so many excuses really. I wouldn't have dared to so much as open the blog page during the first ten miserable weeks of this year when I was completely out of work (something those close to me will be painfully aware of from my constant griping) but at least for now I have some temping work which I am enjoying, so purely as a means to relax of an evening and share a few thoughts with anyone who cares to read, then why not - I'll give it another go.<br /><br />I'll leave it at that for now (sorry Brian - I will heed your advice from now on) except to say that if you do read this, or any future blog posts, please do get in touch with ideas; music, movies, books, TV or (day I say it) anything that you think might benefit from, or be totally destroyed by The Thoughts of Chairman Arthur. You have been warned.<br /><br />Coming soon I strongly suspect; Led Zep III, Wolf Creek and Stephen King's 'Full Dark No Stars'.<br /><br />So having got all that off my chest I'm quite looking forward to getting this going again and with some allowance for excitement I can say for the first time in a long time....... more to follow.Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-65682578302957413172010-05-26T13:40:00.000-07:002010-05-26T14:02:21.358-07:00Weller I Never! (Review - Paul Weller - Heliocentric)I'm going to try and reactivate the blog after a long break and (on the good advice of one of my three followers - my brother Brian) just stick to music, movies and books from now on. So here we go with my take on an album released in 2000 by Paul Weller;- 'Heliocentric'<br /><br />Despite having loved The Jam as a teenager (I still enjoy casually telling Weller fans under the age of 40 that I saw them live 4 times between May 1979 - my first ever gig - and February 1981), and admired (loved may be too strong a word) The Style Council as a twenty something finding my way in the world, I'm not really sure why I chose to simply ignore the majority of Paul Weller's solo career (certainly his output following the `Britpop Years' and his 1998 greatest hits anyway) until now, when a recent chance encounter with his 'As Is Now' album made me decide to binge out on his back catalogue. <br /> Perhaps it makes some sense that now I have at least some of the characteristics of what the cynical media might term a `typical Weller fan' (a 45 year old Dad who wears inexpensive Lambretta and Ben Sherman clothing to go and do the Tesco shop on a Saturday morning and could, if pushed, recite most of the script of `Quadrophenia' from memory) I should now start catching up with his 21st Century output too.<br /><br />And so to `Heliocentric' his fifth solo studio album, originally released in 2000. Of all the Weller albums I have been listening to whilst playing catch up over the past few months, Heliocentric has been the most surprising in that (despite many negative reviews I have read, both recent and from the time of its release) it has completely knocked me for six and is, in a word, superb.<br /><br />Perhaps ten years ago (with `Britpop' as we knew it in the 1990s pretty much dead and buried) this album may have sounded a bit old hat, I don't know, I didn't hear it then, so I can only really go on my reaction to it now, at the start of the summer 2010 and I absolutely love it. <br /><br />Heliocentric certainly demands a few plays, all the way through and all in one go, before it really starts to weave its magic on the listener. Often slated by detractors as being similarly paced and `plodding' this could not be further from the truth; every song on the album is unique, carefully constructed and beautifully performed.<br /><br />Other reviewers have said that the songs get better and better as the album progresses; this is also a view I share, although I personally do not think there is one even vaguely weak track amongst them all. If you want what could be classed as `typical' Weller then the opener; `He's The Keeper' will not disappoint. It's a slow paced rock song very much in the late Small Faces style delivered with emotion and punch. It is also a tribute to former Small Face and latter day Face Ronnie Lane. `Frightened' is a Lennon styled ballad with an excellent, vulnerable lyric, which is followed by Weller's often maligned ode to his daughter; `Sweet Pea' which is cute and harmless, bringing to mind Don Partridge's 1968 one-man-band anthem `Rosie'. Next up is `A Whale's Tale' a raucous and oddball sing a long dealing with (I think) themes of victimisation. All in all a great start, but things really kick into gear with `Back In The Fire' a stirring and slightly sinister Blur-esque trip hop in which Weller rants (in his much loved Woking accent, not the American singing voice he has adopted more in recent years) about being `handcuffed to some wanker' with genuine bile as of old<br /><br />The sublime string arrangements are one of this albums secret weapons, perhaps none more so than on the huge ballad `Dust And Rocks'. Then comes the incredible `There Is No Drinking After You're Dead' - musically much faster paced and aggresive, but with a slow drawling vocal very reminiscent of Cream at their most psychedelic. Razor sharp and bristling with energy - it even manages to go a bit exotic with an eastern themed string break in the middle. `With Time And Temperance' is another reflection on Weller's (then) recent marriage breakdown. Another superb melody that leads to a haunting and trippy outro. I don't know why, but this song (to me at least) sounds a great deal like some long lost Jam single from mid 1981 which can only be a good thing. OK so we are getting on to the end of the album now with `Picking Up Sticks' - a truly incredible piece of funky West Coast psychedelia with a ridiculously catchy keyboard riff throughout and a short `drum solo' during the instrumental work out at the end. I love drum solos anyway so I'm happy (Perhaps Weller could recruit Ginger Baker for a future tour, then allow him a full on 15 minute `Toad' solo whilst he nips off to change his mohair suit!) So that just leaves the closing ballad `Love-Less' which is very soulful (in a kind of `What's Going On' way) and builds to such a gorgeous `goose bumps' crescendo of an ending that leaves you with an exhilarated `how the hell do I follow that?' feeling. <br /><br />You follow it by simply starting it all again from the beginning as I have been doing, pausing only to eat, work and sleep, for about four weeks now.<br /><br />I kid you not; this album is incredible and without doubt one of the best of Weller's entire career. Listen to it now with the warm Summer months ahead - it's a perfect soundtrack to sunny days and warm balmy evenings. Alternatively, play it in the middle of Winter and its sunny vibe will save you a packet on heating bills. Brilliant stuff. (9/10)Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-53990083686043755372010-02-25T15:06:00.000-08:002010-02-25T15:21:04.029-08:00Concerning Francoise Hardy.................I’m never much happier than when I have a good, wholesome, all consuming music fad taking over my life, so happy indeed I am to report that I am at the moment listening to very little apart from French pop from the 1960s, in particular Francoise Hardy.<br /><br />Regular readers of my blog (there are millions, I keep telling myself) will know that to my shame, I decided to investigate her music after building up a crush of monolithic proportions based on a photo of her from 1966 that was given pride of place in my legendary (but very tasteful) ‘Fittie Folder’. But the truth is I am not quite that shallow and the only reason I found that photo in the first place was because I was already listening to Serge Gainsbourg and there she was, in all her loveliness, on the ‘if you like this you might enjoy this’ bit of Gainsbourg’s Amazon pages.<br /><br />My starting point was what turned out to be possibly the best value CD I have ever bought, a Hardy compilation called ‘The Vogue Years’ – 50 tracks on a double CD package, excellent photos and sleevenotes and all a bargain at £4.50 with free P&P from Amazon. 50 tracks in one go from an artist I am completely new to is a lot to take on, so, being Col, I stuck it on I-tunes (and straight onto the ipod), found myself an excellent Hardy discography online, then spent a long evening splitting the tracks into sections based on the original album they first appeared on. I even downloaded the cover art for each album, so that anyone casually browsing through my ‘pod’ will be bowled over at the extent of my Hardy collection (or perhaps not). All in all this has made it a lot easier to listen in relevant, smaller sections rather than trawling through the whole thing in one go.<br /><br />Despite the fact that she audibly matures musically (and I presume lyrically, although I never did pay much attention in French lessons) over the period covered here (1962 – 1967) there is a generally pleasant ambience throughout, conjuring up images of Parisien pavement cafes, good quality coffee, non tipped Gaulloises and beautiful young people on scooters or in Deux Cheveaux. This is of course aided by the fact that all songs (on this compilation at least, as she did record in English and other languages too) are sung in her native French. She was (still is) a very clever lady too, writing most of her own songs and playing the guitar. The language barrier is no big deal, as her voice is beautiful in itself, soft and understated; the only comparison I can make is that at times she sounds a little Marianne Faithful in her early days of the mid sixties when recording for Decca. There are many beautiful songs here (I can honestly say I don’t think there is a ‘bad’ track out of the entire 50), many of which have a familiar melody and may well have been re-written into English hits, but at this moment in time I can’t think of a single example.<br /><br />The earlier material here is more conventional 1960s pop, blending influences of twist, beat, Phil Spector and the ‘Wall Of Sound’, The Shadows, Motown and The Beatles, later progressing to introspective folk, plaintive ballads, rock and more traditional French ‘chanson’<br /><br />I’m still getting acquainted with what is effectively an ‘instant Francoise collection’ (it’s certainly too comprehensive to be considered just a ‘greatest hits’) and it continues to grow on me, but so far, for me the strongest material is from what seems to be two of her most critically acclaimed albums; ‘Mon Amie Le Rose’ (1964) and ‘L’Amitee’ (1965) both of which are included almost in their entirety on ‘The Vogue Years’<br /><br />This is very beautiful, unimposing, melodic pop from a fine, talented artist that is the perfect antidote to all that is the stress of modern life. Something as simple and accessible as this music and her fine voice can not only take me away from things for a while, but reaffirm my love of life in the process.<br /><br />In a word, 'Wow'Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-58049376066576119042010-02-22T14:35:00.000-08:002010-02-22T15:27:28.105-08:00My Humble Tribute To Uncle SeamusUncle Seamus passed away yesterday. I don't know all the details other than his funeral is tomorrow (no hanging about in Ireland - very similar to Spain really - this time last year Ana was frantically trying to get a flight out in time for the funeral of our late beloved Abuelita who was to be buried about 18 hours after passing away) He'd had a good long life (in his late 80s) and as he had been a widower for a few years since Auntie Lizzie passed away, I hope the end was a peaceful one and, if things work out the way they should, they can be reunited in a better place.<br /><br />I have a few memories of Uncle Seamus, so I thought I would put them in my blog by way of a humble tribute.<br /><br />I first met him on one of only two visits I have made in my lifetime to Dad's homeland of Co Antrim in Northern Ireland. We went as a family (with the exception of new born Matt, who we left home alone - just kidding of course - he stayed with a friend of Mum's who was apparently dying to look after him - which was fine by me, because I still hadn't got quite used to the competition) in the summer of 1969, when I was 4 years old. We saw a lot of Seamus and Lizzie and their own kids at that time were in their teens and early twenties I think. He drove a VW Beetle, and I dropped a Double 99 ice cream cone on his shoes whilst legging it back a little too excited from the ice cream van on the beach at Cushendal. He had a great 'knee bouncing' technique (rather like Dad) and coined my official Irish nick-name, 'Colin Glen Sausages' (look, I was 4 ok, and maybe you had to be there, but I appreciated it anyway)<br /><br />In the early 70s, Seamus and Lizzie came to stay with us in Bounds Green Road and I remember spending a whole afternoon entertaining them with a lengthy but banging DJ Set of all of Dad's Nana Mouskouri singles (and he had a few I can tell you), finished off with 'The Black Velvet Band' (the only Irish single I remember we had at the time) played at the wrong speed for comedy effect (there could be an act in there somewhere - mental note to contact 'Britain's Got Talent')<br /><br />The last time I had the pleasure of a few days in his company was back in 1990, my second visit to Co Antrim and this time with my new bride (Ana) who I wanted to show Dad's side of the family (I had been taken to Spain the previous year to meet Ana's equally huge Spanish side of the family) It was only a little over a year since Dad had died and when Uncle Seamus arrived at one of the many big gatherings that were held in our honour, it was heartbreaking to see how much like Dad he was, in his looks, his mannerisms, even the way he stood; on the sidelines, hand on chin, nodding in silent approval to himself at the fine gathering of family around him. Towards the end of our stay, Seamus and Lizzie took us on a whirlwind tour of all their (now grown up) offspring with all their own families, and a full works chinese meal in Antrim town. Seamus was even then quite hard of hearing, added to which there was a band march happening outside, so conversation was limited because he couldn't hear a thing anyway. I remember being quite happy just to sit and watch him, a good and dignified man, just like Dad and all his brothers.<br /><br />That's my own little personal tribute to Uncle Seamus. May he rest in peace.Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-70905710444699223512010-02-18T15:45:00.000-08:002010-02-18T15:49:29.156-08:00A Couple Of Hammer 'Dracula' Movies Revisited...Last night (for want of something better to do) I watched ‘Brides Of Dracula’ and ‘Dracula Prince Of Darkness’ back to back. I honestly don’t think I have watched either of those in the last 30 odd years and I have no idea why I was suddenly struck with the desire for a ‘Hammer Double Bill’ but there you go.<br /><br />Although ‘Brides’ has no Dracula, and therefore no Christopher Lee, I think it is by far the better of the two. Baron Meinster (David Peel) at least has some dialogue and a bit of character development (as opposed to Lee hissing a few times and having a dreadful girly fight with the hero of ‘Prince’) and of course Cushing is excellent as Van Helsing. There are some terrific characters in ‘Brides’ too, the super camp Baroness, the hypochondriac, money obsessed doctor and the completely barking Freda too, as well as the overtones of incest and homo eroticism (Meinster is not fussy about sinking his fangs into his own Mum, or indeed Cushing) lacking in other movies of the franchise. That’s not to say he isn’t averse to also infiltrating the gothic equivalent of a ‘Carry On Camping’ style all girls school to spread his wickedness and even proposing marriage to the sauce pot French heroine who was silly enough to release him in the first place. Even the ridiculous plot padding in ‘Brides’ is amusing and enjoyable (the Innkeepers speech about how ‘my horse brasses remind me of the different seasons of the year’ – excellent stuff) and it has a superb ending too, so the crap rubber bats earlier in the film can be excused on this occasion.<br /><br />Prince of Darkness is OK I suppose, but takes bloody ages to get going. The non speaking, hissing, girly fighting Lee is probably on screen for a total of about 15 minutes and the Victorian Yuppy types who visit the castle invite no sympathy whatsoever. Most annoying of all is the old ‘quick it’s getting dark now’ routine when it is clearly still broad daylight (I know this was because of budget constraints, but is really is dreadful) Lee (so menacing, not to mention quick on his feet in the original Hammer ‘Dracula’) fannies around waving his arms about on the ice (in the bloody broad daylight!) and that’s about it.<br /><br />It’s not all bad though, Father Sandor makes for an entertaining Van Helsing replacement (and gives an excellent speech about the pleasure of warming one’s arse in front of the fire) and there is a fine cameo by the ever reliable*** Thorley Walters.<br /><br />Anyhow, I enjoyed both movies enough to want more, so it looks like I’m going to have a plod through the whole Hammer ‘Dracula’ franchise. Prepare therefore for more razor sharp critique in the near future……………………………….if you read Empire magazine, otherwise look out for more of my Drac related babbling.<br /><br />*** Except perhaps for his (apparently half cut and not having troubled to learn his lines) Police Inspector in ‘Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed’ of course.Colin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-11133345226540852662010-02-17T12:43:00.000-08:002010-02-17T13:16:31.534-08:00To My Old Friends (and How I'm Shit At Fantasy Footie)This season my 'Fantasy Premier League' team has been a disaster, simply because I could not leave the team alone. I have been the kiss of death to the form of many a player this season in my quest for points, using up my weekly transfer allocation greedily, and often losing points for additional transfers, but nearly always too late. The prime example seems to be Jermaine Defoe; he stuck five past Wigan in an incredible 9-1 victory (which considering Spurs' current form seems like an eternity ago) so of course I signed him at the expense of Adebayor and made him Captain too. How many league goals has he scored since? He's probably missed more penalties than scored goals. Clint Dempsey - on a brilliant run of form for Fulham pre Christmas, so I sign him and sure enough he's crocked probably for the rest of the season. These are just two examples misguided errors of judgement I have made week in and week out. Like the scab on your knee after falling over as a kid, heed the advice - leave it alone and it will get better quicker, but I just had to keep fiddling........................<br /><br />So if there is a player you would like to see have a sudden dip in form (I'm not going to say 'or you would like to see injured' because that's just plain wrong) let me know and for a small fee I could arrange for him to ruin his career by means of a 'virtual' stint with the phenomenally bad 'Tweets And Twinchers'<br /><br />Far more successful has been my management of Deportivo (my late Spanish Grandad-In-Law's favourite team) in 'Soccer Manager' (you've guessed it, another online, free to play management game) I took the club over 7 games into last season (a season lasts about half the length of the normal 'real life' season with two games per week) when they were rock bottom with 2 points from 7 games. I sold a few duffers, signed Crouch, Felipe Melo and Von Bronkhorst (to name but a few) and turned things round to the extent that they missed out on a play-off spot by a goal difference of 1!<br /><br />The new season starts on Sunday and the virtual message board tells me that my chairman expects promotion this season. I'll see what I can do.................<br /><br />As if that wasn't enough, I have taken on a second 'Soccer Manager' club, Brighton and Hove Albion, who incidentally are 'playing' as I write this so I must scarper.<br /><br />I just want to say that my involvement in these games (all thanks to the persuasive skills of my fine friend The Prof) has been a great way of keeping in touch with a whole load of great friends and colleagues who were once a very major part of my life, and even if it is just the occasional 'I'll whup your arse in the replay' sent via private message(which is no subsitute to the few pints and nappy night at Empire like in the old days), at least it's some contact and that's always better than none.<br /><br />Aaaah - good old days with good old boys.<br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-14161820680744499722010-02-12T13:42:00.000-08:002010-02-12T14:36:04.169-08:00Gothic Ghost and Horror Fiction (WhhhooooooOO!)For just about as long as I have been able to read I have always loved 'scary' fiction; ghost, horror, the supernatural, I'll read it. I am working on a blog article / series about the legendary 'Pan Book Of Horror Stories' so I won't go on about them now, other than to say that when I was an impressionable youngster, I favoured the trahsy 'torture porn' and anatomical horror of the later 'Pans' which was far more blatant and a quicker fix than the subtle horrors of the classic gothic tales. These I found a bit of a bore simply because they took a little effort to read, and besides, some poor put upon doormat of a bloke wasn't chopping his nagging wife into little pieces halfway through the second page (I'm thinking directly of a story called 'Case Of Insanity' in Pan Vol 11 by the way - just shows how they stick in my mind)<br /><br />My interest in the classic 'gothic' tales by Le Fanu, M R James, Stoker, Bierce, etc etc etc has been revived in adult life by the excellent Vault Of Evil website, where there is a wealth of information and synopses of Victorian, Edwardian and Pre-War horror fiction (thats only a small part of the site - you are equally welcome to read about - or chat on the boards about - 'Rubbish Movie Monsters' if you want to) I have written some stuff for Vault myself; I did a few 'Pan Horror' reviews on there last year.<br /><br />I have learned from my recent renewed acquaintance with Vault that the excellent 'Wordsworth' (responsible for publishing a huge and good quality budget priced range of 'The Classics' in the early 1990s) have for the past couple of years been publishing a (huge and good quality) range called 'Wordsworth Mystery & The Supernatural' a comprehensive collection of gothic horror fiction both well known and obscure. And of course because it's Wordsworth, the books look excellent and are an absolute bargain at just £2 or £3 a throw.<br /><br />So naturally enough I got straight on to Amazon this evening (I can afford a grand total of ONE book!) and have spent ages trawling through the 65 titles currently available, finally settling on the excellent sounding 'Gothic Short Stories' - the first of many I'm sure.<br /><br />(I have just read back what I have written so far this evening, and to be quite frank, if this was someone else's blog that I was reading I would be thinking 'get a life you sad freak, so you bought a sodding ghost book for two quid and you're wetting your knickers with excitement, and you spend ages on a nerdy-arsed horror site - Great! all the more reason to hit 'publish post' immediately without editing.....)<br /><br />But before I do, let me just recommend what is to me the best and scariest 'gothic' horror story I have read; it's called 'The Judges House' by Bram Stoker and it's a genuinely unsettling tale. I've got a copy you can borrow if you're interested (sorry I'm now subconciously writing direct to my brother Brian who I know reads my blog, that's if you didn't give up with sheer boredom weeks ago) or you can go here;<br /><br />http://www.online-literature.com/stoker/820/<br /><br />(That's not a link to 'Vault Of Evil' by the way!<br /><br />More to follow<br /><br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-34908475952669855842010-02-10T14:08:00.000-08:002010-02-10T14:28:15.942-08:00Random Rants and A Child SpookedNot a good night on the footy front, especially if you are a Spurs fan (guilty) and have recently taken over as manager of Brighton & Hove Albion in the highly addictive online Soccer Manager game (yep, that'll be me too)<br /><br />Spurs are mediocre once more - all the promise of the early season seems like an eternity ago as they go down 0-1 to Wolves for the second time in a couple of months.<br /><br />As for Virtual Brighton, it's now three games in charge and three losses, despite having snapped up Keiran Dyer and Stephen Carr (come on they're not that old) as free agents.<br /><br />Just putting my head round the door tonight really - I have loads of blogs in progress but nothing else ready. And there are distractions too; Soccer Manager for a start, plus I am renewing my acquaintance after a lengthy break with the good people on the boards at Vault Of Evil, an excellent site devoted to ghost and horror fiction, movies and TV, past and present. It's especially good on books and there are many like minded souls on there happy to chat away about anything from classic B&W Brit Sci-Fi to what was the scariest thing you saw on telly as a kid. Which leads me to this, my main entry for today, and I'm going to cheat by copying here a little thing I wrote on Vault yesterday; <em>The most scared I have been by anything on TV ever was a public information film from the mid 70s for the 'Keep Matches Away From Children' campaign. What made matters worse it was shown on ITV during ad breaks so there was no "there now follows a public information film" warning to give me time to leg it outof the room. I was cheerfully drinking a cocoa and watching 'Within These Walls' one Saturday night in '75, when suddenly this came along and ruined my childhood!<br /><br />I was only 10 at the time, and I certainly learned my lesson; after seeing this I made sure that from then on I always lit my crack pipe from the gas stove.............<br /><br />Here is a link (make sure you have the sound up too)<br /><br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2I6qF6Tz_k <br /><br />but if that doesn't work then go onto you tube and search 'Keep Matches Away From Children'<br /><br />This still scares the shit out of me now - especially the wardrobe bit at the end........................................................</em><br /><br /><br />More to follow<br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-42595274683324766342010-02-08T13:06:00.000-08:002010-02-08T13:24:40.515-08:00Look, I'm no Barry Norman, but.........Just a quick round up of some films watched since last blog with marks out of ten too!<br /><br />The Fly (1958)<br /><br />Still miles better than the 1986 Jeff Goldblum ‘remake’ which tried to be far too clever for it’s own good, the 1958 original is good old fashioned late 50s Sci Fi / Horror fun. Vincent Price is the (very camp) good guy, although of course he makes a far superior (very camp) bad guy – he would have been better cast as the ambitious but unfortunate scientist who ends up with the arm and head of a fly after a mix up in his transportation device. The movie is well over half way through before anything remotely ‘scary’ happens, but the build up is still entertaining and it’s a great looking film, in glorious, totally unreal technicolor. Famous for the multi faceted ‘fly’s eye view’ of his screaming wife, and the “help me!” scene at the end (which apparently had to be shot umpteen times because Price couldn’t stop pissing himself laughing), this is a thoroughly enjoyable Sunday afternoon lazy movie. (6/10)<br /><br />The Third Man (1949)<br /><br />Ahem - A 'British Classic' nonetheless.I attempted The Third Man one night years ago after a hefty session at the pub, but was comatose half way through (a result of the quantity of the beer not the quality of the movie) It was also shown on at 23.45 on the night of Saturday 21st May 1994, which just happened to also be the date and time my beloved eldest was born - good enough reason for missing it then too. Beer and Babies eh? So this was the first time I've actually sat and watched it all the way through.<br /><br />It’s an excellent take on the end of WWII from a different perspective (in this case occupied Austria) filled with strange, idiosyncratic characters and off kilter, dreamlike scenarios. Although it’s no great shock that the ruthless but charming Harry Lime (Orson Welles) is not dead after all, the revelations about the horrendous consequences of Lime’s racketeering (and his famous speech about the ‘little dots below’ during the scene on the big wheel) are stirring stuff. There is enough suspense, mystery, dirty dealing and danger to make this a great story in its own right, let alone the top-notch moody atmospherics and a terrific performance by the entire cast. (9/10)<br /><br />District 9 (2009)<br /><br />Bang up to date with this one, for a change. A Peter ‘Lord Of The Rings’ Jackson production, and closer in some ways to his earlier projects (low budget ‘splatter’ movies such as ‘Braindead’ and ‘Bad Taste’) <br /><br />A tale of a race of aliens who (almost) crash landed on Earth in the 1980s and for twenty years have been given asylum by being allowed to ‘live’ in a shanty town in Johanesburg. Much of the film (especially the first half) comprises mock documentary, news reports and ‘fly on the wall’ style filming, as the tale of Wikus (the central character and to some extent the ultimate hero of the story, a bureaucratic nonentity at first who, like everyone else, demeans and exploits the alien race – known as ‘The Prawn’ – but soon learns to empathise with them after he – in a nutshell - starts to turn into a ‘Prawn’ himself, following contact with a liquid the aliens are secretly developing) unfolds.<br /><br />This is an entertaining and highly original Sci Fi action movie (the South Africa setting itself is out of the ordinary - no Bruce Willis here to kick butt, or Morgan Freeman as the President) and if you approach it expecting no more, then you should enjoy it for the hokum it is. The references to social issues (many of them particularly close to home in South Africa) for example apartheid, exploitation of the poor by shadowy corporations and the racketeering, gun running and gang culture of the impoverished townships are thinly veiled, but then a good action movie was never supposed to be too thought provoking. (7/10)<br /><br />Just a few movie reviews today, but there is of course<br /><br />More to follow<br /><br /><br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-13699471329547465962010-02-03T14:29:00.000-08:002010-02-03T14:48:09.133-08:00Footie, Gorgeous Birds and (errrm) an Inexpensive CDHaven't got around to blogging since the weekend so here are a few things I have been up to so far this week<br /><br /><strong>A top notch footie film</strong><br /><br />I did watch ‘The Damned United’ after my last blog entry on Sunday evening. Excellent film. Michael Sheen is as good an impressionist as he is an actor, having already managed to get Kenneth Williams, Tony Blair and David Frost down to a tee, his portrayal of Brian Clough is superb and totally believable. Timothy Spall and Colm Meaney are equally effective and convincing as Peter Taylor and Don Revie respectively. Despite the protestations of the Clough family as to factual accuracy, much of the subject matter is knowingly fiction based around fact, and whether 100% accurate or not, it’s a compelling and moving story of football in England in an era when the monolith money machine that is football in the 21st Century would have seemed like a ridiculous vision of things to come (memorable line from the film? – “You don’t pay a footballer three hundred quid a week!”)<br /><br />I only vaguely remember the era concerned (the films flits between 1967 – 1974 and jumps from past to present regularly) in terms of football at least; a time of listening to the results coming in on local radio on a Saturday afternoon, Spurs nearly always losing and eating Sunday dinner with ‘The Big Match’ on in the background, trying to get the last roast potato down quickly so I could claim a good spot on the sofa for ‘Randall and Hopkirk Deceased’<br /><br />The turbulent mix of Clough’s ego, arrogance and personal agendae, with the rough, aggressive and Revie loyal Leeds players is what led to Clough’s failure in his brief stint as Leeds manager – the central plot device here.<br /><br />Thankfully there are very few scenes of actors trying to look like they are in a 1970s football match, as real contemporary game footage is used. Even Steven ‘Tommy from Snatch’ Graham - in a curly ginger wig and dodgy Scottish accent – as Billy Bremner can be forgiven in what is an absorbing human drama. Highly recommended. I also caught up with my brother Dave last night for a long overdue half hour on the phone. Dave is (as he predicted) turning slowly into Ronnie Wood, and may he be all the happier for it.<br /><br />I can always share with Dave anything I get up to that I might lump under the tedious ‘mid life crisis’ banner, and be safe in the comforting knowledge that he will have been there, done that and bought the proverbial t-shirt already. Last night’s conversation led to my confession that my youngest daughter Hayley had nobbled me sorting out my ‘fittie folder’ of photos on the PC at home. Now I must make it clear that the ‘fittie folder’ is in very good taste – no swimwear and boob jobs from ‘Nuts’ magazine, it is merely a collection of (mostly just the face) photos of my own personal all time most fanciable famous women.<br /><br />Hayley knows her harmless and deluded old Dad well enough (and she’s also old enough now to know that just because Dad has a photo or two of Laura Aikman, that doesn’t mean he is about to leave the family and set up a love nest with her – sorry Laura, but that’s the way it has to be) and, having rumbled me, gave her usual resigned sigh and a mock admonishing “Daaa-aa-aaaad”, before launching into a bit of constructive criticism and even going so far as to encourage me to go back onto google image for a better photo in some cases. I was grateful too for her occasional “ooooer, not her, she’s well rough” just to keep my feet on the ground – it’s all a matter of personal taste you know!<br /><br />I am working on a blog in which I reveal the content of the ‘fittie folder’ with a bit about how each of the lucky entrants came to have a balding middle aged bloke from Milton Keynes carry a torch for them. I’m sure OK Magazine can barely contain their excitement……….<br /><br />Splashed out on a bit of ‘The Disney’ on CD<br /><br />I stopped buying CDs on a regular basis 4 maybe 5 years ago for financial reasons, the pain of which has been eased by the advent of downloading. Having said that it does make a very occasional purchase all the more exciting. Spurred on by recently writing a blog entry about the very excellent Microdisney, I decided to treat myself to ‘Daunt Square To Elsewhere’ a 28 track double CD career spanning anthology drawn from the four albums they released (and the ‘In The World’ EP) all for only £4.00 from Amazon.<br /><br />As I mentioned last time, none of their albums are currently available on CD (although I did manage to track down two of them over the last ten years) so it has been great to be able to listen to at least some of their music again that has languished upstairs with the rest of the vinyl for years now, waiting for the day I could afford a decent record player again. Whether she liked it or not at the time, I courted my wife to the music of Microdisney (their ‘Are You Happy’ is definitely on of ‘our tunes’) and was surprised at how much of the stuff on ‘Daunt Square’ she recognised. I have been playing it in the mornings whilst all the early morning feminine chaos of my little family happens around me, and was more than chuffed last night when (the ever reliable) Hayley came up to me and said ‘whatever that was you were playing this morning, it’s brilliant’ so for all the right reasons, I may well have lost the CD already.<br /><br />So that’s it for now except to say that the next time I feel like treating myself to a CD it is going to be by Francoise Hardy as I feel that my recent enjoyment of some Serge Gainsbourg music should lead me into a ‘1960s French Pop’ phase. Besides, Francoise is far better looking than sleazy old Serge, so good looking in fact that a quite remarkable picture of her (circa 1966) which I will put a link to if I can work out how - has pride of place in my ‘fittie folder’ – which kind of brings us full circle (although thankfully not via sweaty 70s football hard men in ginger wigs) and is a good place to wrap this up for today.<br /><br />More to follow<br /><br /><br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-14046074829582336832010-01-31T12:43:00.000-08:002010-01-31T14:24:00.550-08:00The Night We Saw 'The Damned'Only a couple of weeks in and already it's my second blog with 'The Damned' in the title. And bearing in mind that once i've finished writing this I'm going to sit down and watch 'The Damned United' a distinct pattern may be forming.<br /><br />I'm normally spot on with dates, but this is a bit vague, I just know that it was early 1984 or very late 1983, but anyway, The Damned were playing at my all time favourite venue, The Marquee in Wardour Street, and myself Ed and Si were going.<br /><br />We met on the platform of Harrow On The Hill station, and got the tube down to Leicester Square. As we queued up outside the venue, a few 'skins' on their way to see Peter & The Test Tube Babies playing somewhere nearby walked up and down the queue giving it the 'lend us ten pence, mate' routine to us all, but (my pathological fear of early 80s skinheads and general cowardice aside) I managed to get away with no eye contact, a shrug, and a 'nah, mate' with no reciprocal violence, although of course looking back I would have loved to have had the balls to say something like 'certainly young man, but first let's agree upon a mutually convenient repayment programme'<br /><br />Because it was the early 80s and rock and roll tribalism was still very much alive and well, you had a mixed bunch in the venue (indeed of the three of us that went Ed was a rocker, full beard and leathers and love of ZZ Top and Lynyrd Skynrd, Si was punk in the style of early Capt Sensible and Jello Biafra and I was - ha ha ha - a 'Psychedelic Mod') with a creditable turn out of part time punks in tartan bum flaps and comedy safety pins. The atmosphere was exactly how I remember a packed Marquee at its best - sweaty, claustrophobic and smelling strangely of TCP - and there wasn't so much as a sniff of violence or unrest, even when Scabies invaded the pre show DJ's booth and said 'God, you lot are a bunch of ugly fuckers'<br /><br />The Damned line up was one of the best ever and not far removed (only Brian James missing and long since gone from the band) from the original; Dave Vanian singing, Capt Sensible on guitar, Rat Scabies on drums, Paul Grey on bass and a guy on keyboards who was possibly Roman Jugg.<br /><br />Although it had been released about 18 months earlier,they played quite a bit of their latest album at that time (the brilliant 'Strawberries' from 1982) mixed in with a crowd pleasing 'Vegas' set of hits. We watched most of the set from the back of the crowd, and slowly edged our way forward for 'Love Song' 'New Rose' and of course 'Smash It Up'<br /><br />Vanian did his crooning Dracula thing excellently (his slicked back Ray Reardon hair dripping with spit from the good old boys at the front as he was gobbed at for most of the show), Sensible was de-bagged by some strategically placed naughty nuns, but best of all was when Rat Scabies interrupted our rousing chant of 'Scabies is a wanker, Scabies is a wanker, la la laaa la' to shout 'I don't know why you're calling me a wanker, I'm not the one that released Happy Talk!'<br /><br />Both band and audience played the whole thing out as pure pantomime punk rock and it was a brilliant night. Although only six or seven years on from their debut and the 'punk explosion' of 1976-77, even in the early 80s punk was already nostalgia but thankfully (and perhaps in spite of their constant break ups, line up changes and turbulence in their recording arrangements) The Damned rarely took themselves too seriously and gave us a great show that was one of the best and most memorable gigs I have ever been to.<br /><br />It would only be a year or two later when the band (without the much needed pop sensibilities - pun intended - of Capt Sensible) would enjoy greater commercial success as they became for a year or two the kings of the late 80s 'goth' scene, even more reason for me to be glad I got to see them (along with two top Geezers I am still good friends with to this day) on such great form and in such a small venue too.<br /><br />Early last year I caught up with their back catalogue via download and whilst waiting to be interviewed for the job I'm still hanging on to a year later, I listened to 'Machine Gun Etiquette' for inspiration, energy and confidence.<br /><br />Nibbled to death by an Okapi<br />Nibbled to death by an Okapi<br />Nibbled to death by an Okapi<br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-1841005133794591722010-01-28T14:28:00.000-08:002010-01-28T15:15:36.181-08:00"Crikey, it's Mitchum and DeNiro!"I watched 'The Night Of The Hunter' last night, on my own, full of rocket fuel espresso and in pitch darkness. I think I am going to have to watch it again before trying to write something constructive. All I will say is that I enjoyed the movie a hell of a lot and I think that we are going to be very good friends<br /><br />In the meantime though I am going to induct into 'Arthurs Movie Character Hall Of Fame' (see post from a few days ago) the central character from this movie, the absolute nutcase psychopath preacher Harry Powell as played by Robert Mitchum of course. Powell is the monster in a childs fairy-tale, a larger than life, genuinely menacing killer played even larger than life by Mitchum. Yet because he is played by Robert Mitchum the character is iconic and totally believable. I'll add more on this character when I get around to writing about the film.<br /><br />And now for a 'Hall Of Fame First' - since I am wearing out the knees of my inexpensive Matalan jeans praising the legendary Robert Mitchum, I'm also going to add his other great screen villain, Max Cady, from 'Cape Fear'. Like Powell, Cady is a dangerous madman intent on the corruption of innocence and murder, but, whereas Powell is overstated and not exactly subtle (it is made apparent from the opening minutes of 'Hunter' that he is just fresh from the latest of many killings), Cady has had a lengthy spell in the slammer to work out how best to serve his revenge icy cold and at his leisure.<br /><br />Also, their motives differ; Powell seeks to opportunistically steal a big wedge of ill gotten cash and will stop at nothing to get his hands on it, Cady's is a personal vendetta against a man he believes has wronged him.<br /><br />Both Cady and Powell are two of the finest screen psychos of all time and two of Mitchum's greatest performances.<br /><br />Before I go it's yet another 'First' as Max Cady enters the hall of fame twice, also as portrayed by Robert DeNiro in the 1991 remake. Although faithful to the plot of the original, there is one major difference in the remake, in that the 'victim' (played in the remake by Nick Nolte) is shown to be by no means squeaky clean and directly responsible for the harshness of Cady's sentence by knowingly 'burying' evidence, therefore you can actually sympathise with Cady to some extent, whereas the Gregory Peck victim in the original appears blameless.<br /><br />I write an amateur blog, not a column for Empire (I want a radio show first anyway!), so I'm not even going to try and choose between the two portrayals, I think they are both exceptional, and usually if I am in the mood to watch 'Cape Fear' I will make sure I have time to watch both versions, back to back.<br /><br />More to follow<br /><br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-71781643550558941992010-01-27T14:34:00.000-08:002010-01-27T14:41:22.113-08:00Short and Sweet?No blog post of note today, just to say I am about to sit and watch Robert Mitchum in 'Night Of the Hunter' (call myself a movie buff and I haven't seen this one before!) which may well be the subject of my next proper post.<br /><br />So for today I offer no more than the punchlines to three of my favourite jokes;<br /><br />"Very well then, death...........................BY HOBO!!!!!!"<br /><br />"On the contrary, I was just checking; spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch"<br /><br />"A pigeon coming back from the library"<br /><br />More to follow<br /><br /><br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-50465292500243321392010-01-26T13:14:00.000-08:002010-01-27T14:59:48.114-08:00Sympathy For The Put-Upon PuppetWhen it comes to cult TV puppet characters having a particularly shit life, was there ever a character more ill treated and put upon that poor old Kyrano from Thunderbirds?<br /><br />Faithful ‘aide de camp’ (servant, basically) to the Tracey family, proud father and doting mentor to marionette sauce pot Tin-Tin he may be, but that aside, his primary function in Thunderbirds seems to be as a kind of lackey kick arse to both the good and the bad guys.<br /><br />Worst of all, when not pandering to the every whim of the housework shy Tracey men, the poor sod has to contend his having mind controlled at will by the evil bastard slap-head ‘The Hood’ <br /> All The Hood has to do is glare at his trusty statue / idol thing, get his eyes to glow a bit and say ‘Kyyyyyyrrrraaaaaannnnoooooo’ a few times with increasing intensity until the unlucky git is sent tumbling to the ground. He is then telepathically forced into ‘immobilising the automatic camera detector’ on Thunderbird 1, or similar, or worse.<br /><br />And why is it that Kyrano always seems to be carrying a tray of drinks when The Hood chooses to mind zap him? There he is, happily trotting in with a tray full of Mojitos, and BAM! down he goes, the tray does flying and I dare say he’s the one who is made to clear up the mess afterwards (unless Tin-Tin or at a push Grandma is willing to help) before he slips away unnoticed to carry out Baldy’s dirty work.<br /><br />I’m surprised to be honest that Jeff Tracey didn’t just cotton on sooner and give Kyrano the boot. If the tendency towards frequent life and security threatening sabotage under hypnosis wasn’t excuse enough, then surely the carpet cleaning bill from all the spilled drinks would have been?<br /><br />I’d like to think that Kyrano is now residing in a retirement home and living in relative peace and quiet with the also retired Brains and his trusty chess playing robot, Braman. Perhaps The Hood (languishing in a top security prison somewhere, but allowed his trusty statue / idol thingy in exchange for hard work in the laundry room and good behaviour in the showers) still likes to ‘manipulate’ Kyrano from time to time, and I’ll bet he waits until the poor sod is carrying a pot of tea and the Rummikub across to the table where Brains and the robot are waiting.<br /><br />“KyyyyyyyyyyyRRRRRRRaaaaaaaaannoooooooooo”<br /><br />“KyyyyyyyyyyyyrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRAAAAAAANNNNoooooo”<br /><br />“Aaaaaaa-aaaaaaah-aaaaaGGGHHHHH”<br /><br />CRASH!<br /><br />Coming up next in my series on puppet characters who get a rum deal; Troy Tempest's underachieving but loyal sidekick, Phones........<br /><br />More to follow<br /><br /><br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-52925505448533509402010-01-25T12:20:00.000-08:002010-01-25T13:30:48.634-08:00Six Of The Best........Movie Characters.....Part 1I like lists!<br /><br />So for that simple reason, here is a random selection of six of my favourite movie characters listed in no particular order of preference – I’ve already thought of about 50 or so more, so this will definitely be continued......................<br /><br />Let's start off with <strong>Sister Ruth (Black Narcissus)</strong> – When it comes to a highly strung nun driven to madness and attempted murder by lust and sexual repression, you don’t get much madder (and downright scary) than Kathleen Byron’s portrayal of Sister Ruth in this classic and (for it’s time) controversial British movie.<br /><br />Talking of controversial British movies (were we?) how about <strong>Billy Bright and Rod (The Football Factory) </strong>– None of the characters in The Football Factory are supposed to have anything even vaguely resembling redeeming characteristics, least of all Billy Bright (played excellently by Frank Harper) who is the sociologist’s template post 1980s football hooligan; white, middle aged, good job, good house, good car, wife, kids etc coping with a mundane life through right wing ideals and scraps with rival football firms, organised with military precision. Being as he is little more than an overgrown schoolkid, Bright has some of the best scenes (the ambush of the Stoke fans on the way to Liverpool – “Get the beer safe!”) and sharpest dialogue (the whole “hold out your hand” scene and the verbal sparring with rival Fred as their sons play football against each other) Although he is basically a violent sod you wouldn’t want to cross at the best of times, in the context of the movie, Bright is an entertaining and often very funny character. <br /><br />Rod (played by Neil Maskell) is the portly, soft spoken ladies man who has some of the best scenes and lines in the whole movie (his explanation given to his ‘posh’ girlfriend as to why he can’t miss the upcoming Millwall cup match and pre match scrap in order to meet her parents? - “I’m male”) and he shows a genuine bond of friendship with the central character Tommy (Danny Dyer) Rod is a good old fashioned cheeky chappie and wind-up merchant, made totally believable by Maskell.<br /><br /><strong>Chief Martin Brody (Jaws)</strong> – Along with Quint (Robert Shaw) and Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) , Roy Scheider’s put-upon Police Chief Brody makes up a triumvirate of superbly portrayed characters who go a long way towards making Jaws (especially the second half when they are the entire cast – apart from the rubber shark of course) the most exciting film of all time. Brody is singled out here for (amongst many great moments) the comedy relief of the ‘son copying Dad’s body language’ scene, the classic line; “We’re gonna need a bigger boat’, and what is for me my favourite cinematic moment of all time; “Smile you son of a…” BLAM!!<br /><br />Next up is <strong>Billy Bibbit (One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest) </strong>– Is there a single character in this movie that isn’t one of the greatest movie characters of all time? It was the story within the story of the confused, anxious and ultimately tragic Billy Bibbit (brilliantly played by Brad Dourif) that moved me the most the first time I saw this film and still does, every time I watch it. There is a normal, happy and loving young man in Billy fighting to get out and McMurphy (Jack Nicholson) may be the only one who can see this. Sadly, through McMurphy giving Billy the chance he needs to shake off his insecurities and become ‘a man’, both of their fates are tragically sealed. Rarely has there been a more genuinely sympathetic character in a movie, and just to ice his cake completely, Billy completely steals the brilliant fishing trip sequence from everyone, even Jack himself.<br /><br />My final choice for today is a John Wayne character, <strong>J.B. Books (The Shootist)</strong> – My late and very much missed Dad (1926-1989) and my oldest brother Brian were / are big fans of The Duke so I feel some trepidation at choosing a Wayne character for this list, as there are so many of his movies I have yet to see, or would need to see again to fully appreciate some of the legendary figures he has played. <br /> J B Books (the hero of Wayne’s last movie from 1976) is as mighty a character as any I have seen of his. I have read that, although in poor health, Wayne was yet to contract the cancer that would eventually kill him when he made The Shootist (despite having suffered with cancer previously) so it is unlikely that he would have known it was to be his last movie. Watching it now years after his death, the character (a veteran gunman slowly being eaten away by terminal cancer) is made far more poignant because of the similar realities that lay around the corner for Wayne himself. Perhaps it’s unfair to single out a character for this reason (but come on, this is only Colin’s blog, not the sodding Oscars!) but for the record, the character of Books makes this list on his own strengths for many reasons, but I will pick out the touching courtship with his landlady (Lauren Bacall), the friendship with and mentoring of her impressionable son (Ron Howard) and most moving of all, the ‘second opinion’ scene with Dr Hostetler (James Stewart), oh and of course the gunfight at the end – what Wayne western would be complete without at least one gunfight?<br /><br />I’m enjoying putting this list together, so I may well add more of my favourite movie characters later in the week.<br /><br />More to follow<br /><br /><br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-29701468181947538102010-01-23T14:08:00.000-08:002010-01-27T15:01:07.636-08:00Maybe They Should Have Just (Let It Be)Only ten days in and already a touch of ‘blogger’s block’ has set in. But I’ll give it a go anyway. At the moment I have a good few unfinished drafts based on what seemed like great ideas that quickly ran out of steam – I’ve had a read through them this evening but each and every one of them is going to have to remain on ice for now.<br /><br />I’m tempted to write something about the thrilling cup tie at White Hart Lane earlier this evening (Spurs going from being very unlucky to very lacking, ultimately giving away a silly injury time penalty enabling Leeds to force a replay at Elland Road) but I have serious doubts about my abilities as a football pundit.<br /><br />I’m tempted to write something about the fact that, as someone who has been a lifelong Beatles fan, I have only just (thanks to the miracle of downloading) watched the ‘Let It Be’ film in its entirety for the first time (it’s never been released on DVD and if it has been shown on TV in the last 25 years I must have been somewhere else at the time) What a shabby epitaph it is. Endless hours of half arsed jamming, interspersed with bitching and squabbling between four men (and an ever present Japanese performance artist) who have been run ragged by their own phenomenal success over the best part of the previous decade and have quite frankly had enough, condensed into one 80 minute shambles.<br /><br />Looks like I am writing about ‘Let It Be’ after all. Good Oh.<br /><br />What miniscule structure there is to the film I am only able to work out because I have read so many Beatle books (and seen the ‘fab three’ give their very politically toned down version of the events that led to the break up on the ‘Anthology’ DVDs) but suffice to say the footage used from the cold, capacious and utterly characterless Twickenham Studios is pretty horrible. McCartney struggles to keep things going and to raise morale; full credit to him, but it only makes him come across as a patronising shit (especially to George) Lennon (in the midst of a full-on heroin habit) probably just wants to spend time with the new love of his life, sitting in a big bag and making experimental films of bare posteriors and his own John Thomas, but he just comes across as bitter, acerbic and not at all interested, his occasional Paul O’Grady scouse jokes unfunny to all except the ever present and painfully sycophantic back room staff. Harrison tries his best to do his bit on the Lennon and McCartney numbers, despite being ordered around by McCartney and having to put up with Lennon apparently being too superior to contribute George’s ‘I Me Mine’. Poor old Ringo – he just drums along, only ever really wanting to play, looking very uncomfortable when the atmosphere is icy, and painfully conscious that the greatest gig of his career is about to come to an abrupt end.<br /><br />Things do improve once they decamp to the familiar and more comfortable surroundings of Apple HQ. Billy Preston arrives on keyboards (no explanation given in the film of course as to why he is there) resulting in everyone being on their best behaviour. There is an excellent jam session where McCartney’s soon to be step daughter Heather (aged maybe 5 or 6) steals the show, and the famous roof top concert (even though it stinks of obligations being fulfilled) is still a great and iconic Beatles moment, great fun to watch and the only real saving grace in this pretty awful ‘movie’.<br /><br />After the mess that was the whole ‘Get Back’ project (only later renamed ‘Let It Be’) only Abbey Road remained. A wonderful album, recorded by the band knowing it would be their last, but wonderful in the main thanks to George Martins ability to polish a turd until it turns into a big nugget of gold.<br /><br />Well that’s me done. Time for a hot bath, a large Ciento Tres and some 1950s American Sci Fi. Them? Forbidden Planet? Hmmmmmmmm. Choices.<br />More to follow<br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8398122555565736814.post-64416720204552173222010-01-22T15:37:00.000-08:002010-01-22T16:32:41.212-08:00My Favourite Female Vocalist...............It's been a typically busy Friday evening, but not without it's high points. Tacos for dinner (used the Tesco kit but might have to revert to Old El Paso, the extra 72p is well worth the difference in subtlety and flavour of the spice blend) the pleasant sound of my wife and daughters belly laughing upstairs at something that's happening on 'Celebrity' Big Brother and my first listen in ages to 'Reading Writing And Arithmetic' by The Sundays.<br /><br />Harriet Wheeler of The Sundays is by a long way my favourite female vocalist, a decision I made many years ago (Harriet was on the shortlist as a possible name for our eldest and I confess this had a lot to do with my admiration for the lovely Ms Wheeler, but I / We preferred girls names that end in Y and Emily won the vote. Good job too, as I know that I would probably be calling my beloved Em 'Hattie', 'Hatters', Hattington Chulmley' etc etc by now)<br /><br />For a chap who gets so obsessively grouchy about odd pronunciation of words, it's ironic that Harriet endears herself to me even more with her own unique pronunciation. Take one of The Sundays best known songs; 'Here's Where The Story Ends' - she soothes my very soul by singing 'Ands' instead of 'Ends' and 'Tarrible' instead of 'Terrible'<br /><br />As for the Sundays I do quite like their (very minimal at just three albums) stuff, even if it is a bit 'soundtrack to a dinner party in Clapham with a few Bill Nighy types talking loudly with their mouths full about what was in the Guardian today' but Harriet's golden moment is still to come, when I finally get around to putting together my Bowie tribute album (I've already got Robbie Williams' people talking to my people about him singing 'Shadow Man') I'm hoping she will agree to join the project and sing 'We Are The Dead' or maybe 'Quicksand'<br /><br />Harriet and Dave of The Sundays are of course a couple and to the best of my knowledge havent recorded anything since 'Static and Silence' in 1997 having taken a break to raise their children. I hope that, forthcoming all star Bowie tribute notwithstanding, they might do just one more album before the grand-kids start arriving.<br /><br />I must mention also Liela Moss of The Duke Spirit, a band we saw supporting Duran Duran a few years ago. Their album 'Neptune' which I downloaded purely on first impressions having never heard of them before that show, is brilliant and whilst she's no Harriet, her unique vocal style (earnest, innocent, bold........ errrm, quite cute actually and not unlike Grace Slick in places) puts her instantly into 'Col's Top 5 Female Vocalists'<br /><br />Other contenders would include Grace Slick, Candi Staton, Debbie Harry (of course), Dusty Springfield, Francoise Hardy and Skye (from Morcheeba) to name but a few.<br /><br />Another music related blog today - could be a movie one tomorrow as we are pondering going to see 'Sherlock Holmes' - whatever the day brings there will inevitably be....<br /><br />more to follow,<br /><br /><br />ColColin 'Arthur Pewtey' Cunninghamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07873795849323758478noreply@blogger.com0