Wednesday 8 July 2009

dreams

Corking dream last night.

I discovered a 'secret room' in our attic that was full of vintage guitars. I was stood in the room surrounded by these guitars, being soaked by rain that was coming through the ceiling. Whilst all this was going on I was trimming my eyebrows with the type of sanding disc you would attach to a Black & Decker drill. I was horrifed that I had given myself girls eyebrows and then awoke to reality.

What the hell does it mean?

Offending people

As some of you know I have my own radio slot on City Talk every Monday morning. This week I was getting ready to do my spiel about stupid bands that I hate when I commented that the Bronson film is out. Here is an outline of the conversation that took place:

Me: Charlie Bronson's film is out on Monday.
DJ: Yeah.
Me: Wouldn't want to meet that guy in a dark alley. Bloody hell, what a loony! Right nasty piece of work that fella.
DJ: Yeah. I know his family really well. I'm best friends with his mum & brother.
Me: (embarassed) Oh right. Do you do much crime stuff then?
DJ: Did some work for Dave Courtney.
Me: That guy is unhinged. Wouldn't want to get too close to that mentalist.
DJ: Yeah. He's a close friend. We speak regularly.
Me: (even more embarassed) Oh right.

Isn't it great when you put your foot in it. Not only that but if I don't watch out I'll probably end up getting fed into a mulching machine head first by Cockney hard men!

The folly of age

Another phenomenon you can see everywhere in Liverpool:

Old men wearing baseball hats.

When I say 'old men', I don't mean 100 year old grave-dodgers perilously close to death shuffling down the high street at 0.000001mph. What I am actually referring to those late 60s/early 70s grey haired fools you see on the number 10 bus every day. I'm fairly sure these pricks are retired and spend most of their time smoking themselves stupid in horrible boozers on Kensington, but where did the hat thing come from?

They're sure as shit not wearing them to stop the sun getting in their eyes because today the sky was blacker than Mordor. It's not even because their heads get cold (it was bloody warm this afternoon). Have they seen their idiotic, car-stealing sons and thought "I know. I want to be just like him. Instead of enjoying my retirement I shall spend all day in William Hill and cough myself to death from smoking 80 a day."

I don't know. I just don't know.

Wednesday 1 July 2009

a nostalgic rant

Blah blah blah things were better in the good old days blah blah blah wasn't everything sunnier when we were young......

Bollocks.

I used to consider myself a person who didn't dwell on nostalgia but recent events have taught me otherwise. Let's get down to specifics :

Seeing Blur at the MEN Arena made me incredibly happy and also the saddest I've ever been.

Why seeing Blur made me happy:

It proved to me that a band can play together for years, split up, reform and still sound vital.
They played their back catalogue from a time when I was obsessed with British music and felt like I was the only one who cared. I now know I was right to love this music.
They seemed genuinely happy to be on stage together.
For 2 hours I remembered what is was like to be 15.
It served as evidence that my love for Blur isn't just mostalgia but solid evidence that they were and still are an INCREDIBLE BAND.
I get the feeling it was one of those nights I wil remember for the rest of my life. Don't ask me why, I just do.


Why seeing Blur made me sad:

It made me realise that that golden era of British music between 1992 and 1996 could never happen again.
It made me feel old.

I know that the positives by far outweigh the negatives in these 2 lists but let me explain something. When I first started listening to music the first real band I identified with was Blur. Sure, Nirvana were the reason I wanted to be in a band (Kurt had just blown his head off, everytone was listening to Nirvana) but Blur were the first band I identified with.

They were British. They were thoroughly middle class. They were not from a majoy city. They were the same age as my sister.

How could I not like them?

I've always felt that the fact I liked Blur and not Oasis is possibly the definitive metaphor of my life. You could argue that loads of people liked Blur, but NOT IN MY SCHOOL AT THAT TIME. The only other person who was into Blur was my best friend Joe but I didn't know this until we got to know each other years later.

There's something about the Britpop era that makes me want to drink mulled wine and listen to Elgar. I mean, it's not often I get fuzzy-headed and proud of British music but there's something about that era that defines being young to me. I suppose everything looks good in rose-tinted spectacles but fuck it, those were the days.

Staying up late every Friday eating Pot Noodles and watching Paul Weller on Jools Holland because I had no friends. Brilliant.