If you remember me in a while, that’s enough…

My poor neglected blog. It’s been a while, but something happens that makes you want to write something beyond my usual Facebook status or 140 twitter characters.

I was having a pretty crappy Monday. It was my first day back after two weeks off. The clocks had gone forward and I wanted my hour back, dammit! I was having my “quick read” of the internet to prime me before I faced the email mountain and the pile of crap that was about to face me.

Then it popped up on my twitter feed.

The Bluetones are disbanding.

It was awful. I said on twitter that I genuinely hadn’t been this upset since Robbie left Take That. I think some people thought I was joking, but it’s true. Never has a musical announcement even made me feel slightly upset since then and before Monday.

It took me a while to realise why I was so upset. I put a lot of it down to Monday blues – a compound effect of all the other crap that had flung itself my way that day, but the feeling of sadness lasted through until today.  Then I realised.

I always thought they’d be there, because they always have been.

My brother bought me Expecting to Fly for my 16^th birthday. I’d given him a choice of albums to get and he chose that one.  I can’t remember what the other choices were, I wish I could because it would be an interesting aside that would add texture and colour to this.  I still have the tape. The front was embossed with a sticker that’s nearly worn away. The back half of the tape is missing. It’s cracked but the jagged edges are smooth.

That tape left home with me. It was joined by another album that was the soundtrack to my gap year; Return to the Last Chance Saloon. Another tape that I still have.  This was followed by Science and Nature, which came out bang in the middle of my time at university, and the tour that accompanied it was the first time I’d seen them live and one of the best nights of my student life. The albums that followed are not so marked by eras in my life but are still memorable to me. I have a Bluetones song for every mood, every event and every eventuality.

The Bluetones pop in and out of my life. It’s unfortunate that this happened at a time when they were very much in. I saw them in November and giggled and waved. I saw Mark Morriss on his own in January of this year. I met him and I was charmed. He was a lot taller than I thought he would be too.

I posted on Facebook that night that all I wanted to do was build a time machine and go back and tell my 16 year old self that I would meet a Bluetone one day. I’d never have believed me, but I’d have had a lot of fun winding me up about it.

All I can do is publicly say thank you and all the best for the future.  Oh, and see you in September!

Loved and Lost

I know that the internet is currently awash with theories and opinions about the Lost finale. It seems that the majority have decided that not enough questions were answered and it descended into sentimentality. Opinions have ranged from absolutely in love with it to absolute rage that their favourite mystery had not been solved.

I for one, loved it.

In a rare moment of being a morning person, I rose at 4.30am to see it with the rest of the world. I’m glad I did. It gave me a chance to digest and rationalise before I articulated my opinion. I’m now going to, like several thousand other bloggers across the world, give you my take and just why it was such a fitting end to a wonderful show.

I was telling myself during the final series that the destination didn’t matter, because the journey had been so good. The destination did not hold the answers to everything, but I did enjoy it.

I like that it ended up about the characters. Whatever explanation was given for the island and it’s powers, most people wouldn’t be happy. We get to make our own decisions about what happened to those who lived and what it was that made the island so special. We knew it was about light and dark, good and evil, fate vs. free will, logic vs. faith.

As Christian Shepherd (I didn’t notice either) said, what happened on the island happened. They didn’t all die in the crash. Everything on the island was true and it was so life altering for everyone they chose to meet up in the after, where there is no now so they could come whenever they were ready, whenever they died.They were as they were on the island, because they were so important to each other they decided to create a whole universe together so they can meet each other afterwards. When they were ready to move on, they moved on together.

On the island, Jack and Kate killed the smoke monster by getting Desmond to switch off the light, temporarily blocking the island’s powers and making him mortal. Jack then passed the torch to Hurley, before switching the light back on and ultimately dying. Hurley took Ben as his number two. Jack then died in the same place he arrived.

It’s the afterlife part that seems to have got people the angriest and most confused. The way I see it, everybody got the chance to be redeemed in the flash sideways universe. Those who weren’t were not ready as they were still feeling guilty about someone. Here is my take on each character’s journey and what they needed to move on…

Hurley goes from cursed by the numbers to the luckiest man alive. He met with Libby again. It was the love of Libby that allowed him to move on.

Juliet got her baby, and got the chance to be the doctor that she wanted to be, but ultimately it was her love for Sawyer that allowed her to move on.

Sawyer got to be the good guy, and got a chance to see what path his life would have taken if he had not chosen the path of revenge. It was his love for Juliet that allowed him to pass over.

Jin and Sun got a chance to be together without the pressure of Sun’s father’s expectations on Jin. This led him to be the man he became on the island. I think it was seeing their child that let them move on.

Kate couldn’t quite let go of her crimes, but it wasn’t her mother’s boyfriend that she felt guilty about, it was her boyfriend that died in the car accident. She had to atone for that. It was the birth of Aaron that was her moment of redemption both on the island and in the afterlife.

Sayid is a tricky one. My take is that he felt so guilty about the death of Nadia he wouldn’t let himself have her. Instead, he allowed her a happy , stable life with his brother and killed the bad guys to protect that. Shannon loved him on the island for who he was and it was that love in the end that allowed him to move on.

Desmond is a trickier one. He had the approval of Penny’s father, something he never had in the real world, and he got to meet Penny again with this. I think that it was getting the chance to save Charlie, who died to save him that allowed him to move on.

Charlie still got to live his rock and roll lifestyle, but was saved from messing it up by Jack. He got to meet Claire again and it was this that was his key to move on. Similarly for Claire it was Charlie that helped her. She found her family to help her with her baby.

Locke had a chance to hurt his father, which I can’t blame him for really after what he put him through. It was his feet on the ground that allowed him to move on.

I have been wondering why Aaron was there as a baby but Ji Yeon wasn’t. I can only assume that several years passed between the first and last deaths so why didn’t anybody age? The best explanation I have for this is that Sun was pregnant in the afterlife to give Jin a chance to meet her. Aaron, well if everyone else was as they were on the island, why shouldn’t he be.

The characters that were not present in the church played their parts, but were not part of the core group of islanders. Ben couldn’t, so stayed outside. Ana Lucia was presumably still feeling guilty about Shannon, hence her “not being ready”.

Jack had his son to work through his daddy issues with, but ultimately, it was his dad that helped him move on.

The one question I do have that I think needs answered is what becomes of Desmond. I’d like to think that Ben showed him the way out and he, Penny and baby Charlie were reunited. Anyone who tells me otherwise is in trouble.

Eloise Hawking is another that seems to be confusing people. Here’s my theory. She enjoyed the life where she never had to kill her son. Never had to encourage him on to the island where she would ultimately kill him in order to fulfil his fate. I think that this is why she didn’t want questions answered, or wanted to move on.

So there’s my theories on the end of probably my favourite TV show ever. I’m no expert and I’m sure there are probably several other opinions, and questions that I didn’t answer here, if you want to know what I think about anything, feel free to ask below!

Close The Door, Keep It Shut.

I’m all for a bit of trash television.  I like reality shows, I enjoy my X-factor and even indulge in the odd bit of Hollyoaks.  But sometimes, something comes along so truly terrible that it makes me question ever turning on my television again.

The Door was one of these programmes.

This was indeed quite possibly the worst hour and a bit of television I have ever set my eyes upon. Not only did I want to switch off my television, I wanted to smash, burn and bury it, only to dig up the parts to add to my trusty flux capacitator and invent a time machine to take me back to a simpler time where trash like this could never possibly infringe on my life.  You talk about time you will never get back. This is time I wanted to have a funeral service for, and record a charity single to raise funds in its memory.

It was on for two hours over Friday and Saturday night. I managed Fridays episode, and some of Saturdays but I truly lost the will to live after the first five minutes.

So what was it about.  Well, it was equal parts Saw Game, I’m a Celebrity, Crystal Maze and Middle Management Training exercise. Fronted by Amanda “Windtunnel” Holden and Chris “Desperate” Tarrant, it saw six celebrities competing against each other by facing their worst fears, the winner earning £25,000 for their favourite charity. This I suppose was the only polish to this stupendously steaming turd, but it was buried so deep you forgot about it.

Set in a “Mysterious” “Russian” storage facility, Dean Gaffney, Michael Underwood, Keith Duffy, Louisa Lytton, Frankie Sandford and Jennie McAlpine were to pit their “wits” and nerve against each other through a series of challenges involving rotting carcasses, caged animals, creepy crawlies, fake sewers and some thinking to see who would come out the winner.

So why exactly was it so terrible?

The Door puns – The Most Unhinged gameshow in the world! No.

The lack of any actual peril- There was pretend peril in night vision cameras and tight spaces, but no actual danger.  There was one part about them having to crawl past dogs IN CAGES! I have a dog phobia but I could manage walking past one in a cage. The point that this was “The most terrifying celebrity ordeal on television!!!” was hammered home to us several times. It wasn’t.

The GCSE Psychology – Amanda Holden actually uttered “They’re working as a team now, but it won’t last. O RLY AMANDA?! that’s so insightful. People in a competition may be competitive?

Dont’ get me started on Holden.  The talking out of the side of her mouth and mime artistry in lieu of any actual emotion on her face was grating after the first 30 seconds.

The Recaps – Why must we be treated like goldfish? I remember what happened before the break.  It was three minutes ago. But no, we were treated to a recap of the programme so far after every break, as making tea often erases one’s brain.

So there you go. It was awful. I spent the first hour just waiting for it to cross the line into bad/good. It never did.  I may even go as far as to say that this made Fort Boyard look classy, and that had Leslie Grantham, Melinda Messenger and midgets.

Flaming Heck…

I was debating with a friend of mine about who was the best live band in the world.  My answer was, without a shadow of a doubt, the Flaming Lips.

 

You see, for me, live music is not just about the technicality of playing.  Some artists are technically perfect on stage, but where is the fun in that?  It’s not just about audience interaction or pyrotechnics either, because that’s no good without decent songs.

 

For me, the Flaming Lips are the perfect live experience.  I went to see them at East London’s glorious pastel painted, Art Deco music and cage fighting venue on Tuesday this week.  It was an all singing, all dancing spectacular.  Lovely Silver Fox Wayne Coyne is a wonderful, engaging frontman.  We had singalongs, we had chats, we had him sitting on the shoulders of a gorilla monster.  We saw up his nose with his on-microphone camera, we held up our fists for peace, he walked across us in a giant plastic ball.  We were sprayed with confetti, we were covered in smoke and when it was all over, we frolicked in spilled confetti as it was being blown from the stage by an industrial leaf blower.

 

From the emergence of the band from a giant on-screen flashing lady-part to the final bars of ‘Do You Realize?’, to which everyone cheerfully sang about everyone they know dying some day, a great time was had by all.

 

Granted, the material on their new album ‘Embryonic’ is not as accessible as some of their other stuff, descending sometimes into overblown proggy solos, but it was delivered by a band so charming  and obviously pleased to be there that it doesn’t really matter.  Even the poor security guards, who had spent their night being blown at by smoke machines, and batting aside balloons, were smiling by the end of the night.

 

Balloons went in people’s faces, drinks were spilled and feet stepped on, but there was no malice or fighting.  We were having too much fun for that.

 

“You may have been told by other bands that you have been to see that they have the best audiences in the world” Said Coyne as he was closing  “but they’re lying, we have the best audiences”

Rocky Heaven

I realised when I started this blog that I would never make the best reviewer.  A combination of being easily pleased, and a vocabulary of superlatives that doesn’t extend beyond “Amazing” and “Awesome” do not a good reviewer make.  I tend to keep the reviews to observations, but last night I saw something that I wanted to share with the world.  Something that deserves both of the words in my superlative vocabulary.

I saw the Rocky Horror show.  Again.  It was the fourth time I have seen the show live on stage, in the same theatre.  I’d even seen the same actor play Frank before.  David Bedella does not play Tim Curry playing Frank N Furter.  This is what I want to see.  I know this is wrong, but is this a play where actors should make the parts their own? When they have been played so definitively, on a video that I watched until it melted, once a week, all the way through my teens?

But I got over it.  The actor made me get over it.  His enthusiasm at being handed one of the most delicious parts in musical theatre was infectious.  He hammed it up in the right places, played it up in the right places, and played it down when it was needed, bringing nuances that I’d never noticed before.  It will always be Tim Curry’s part in my eyes, but David Bedella can have it part-time.

The rest of the cast were solid, my only small complaint being that Haley Flaherty’s Janet belted out “Superheroes” at the end like she was auditioning for Glee club, when it’s a sad song and she had just been thrown from a castle that had just blasted into outer space, after having had all of her values challenged and her relationship tortured, but that’s small potatoes really.  I liked Ceris Hine’s Columbia, taking the part to the ditzy airhead extremes.  Ainsley Harriot as the narrator was more hammy than a Spam factory, but it worked.

All was wonderful with the play, but we have yet to get to the BEST BIT.  As I was walking out for the interval, I spotted a rather familiar bald head, on top of a skinny body.  I started to hyperventilate.  It was…RICHARD O’BRIEN! I could not pass up the opportunity to meet him, and I did.  I shook him by the hand and thanked him for giving me Rocky Horror.  My favourite film of all time.  I told him how I watched it almost weekly through my teen years.  He told me he blamed the parents.  I’m sitting here with the worlds biggest grin on my face, and I don’t care that I must have come across as a sweaty, red faced gibbering fangirl, because last night I got to shake the hand of a hero.  And it was AMAZING and AWESOME.

Erm…2

Sorry, I’ve been a bit neglectful of late, inspiration hasn’t really hit me over the last week or so.  This is a combination of being ill and really busy, so no big idea or discussion, just what I have been reading, watching and listening to over the last few days…

Books – Just finished “One Good Turn” by Kate Atkinson.  A tale about a group of seemingly unconnected people brought together by a seemingly random road rage incident.  Oh for just a teeny, tiny sliver of that woman’s talent…

Music- Haven’t really had the Mp3 player out for a bit because I’ve just discovered Absolute Radio.  It’s a great mix of music, intelligent DJ’s and good guests.  Plays the good stuff without the seemingly constant Snow Patrol/Coldplay loop on Xfm.  Nice.

Have also purchased the new Jamie T and Hockey albums, not had a chance to listen yet, but I’m really looking forward to it.

Television – Last week was a jamboree for Hollyoaks fans (I’m back on the bandwagon, sorry).  We had 5 episodes of Hollyoaks Later, which is always a bit hit and miss, but seemed a bit better this time.  By far the most affecting story was that of Sarah, Zoe and Lydia, culminating in the very crunchy and bloody death of Sarah following a bout of parachute tampering, which was surprisingly emotional, even though it marked the end of one of the most annoying characters in Hollyoaks history.  On the end of this was – Hollyoaks – The Good, the Bad and the Gorgeous which was the most wonderful splicing of bizarre movie parodies and clips from Hollyoaks past.  I absolutely loved it.

Movies – Away We Go – Sam Mendes’ latest film, about a couple who are expecting a child who go and visit various friends and relatives to see where they would like to bring up their child.  Funny, lovely, sad and beautiful.  Please go and see it.  I also happened upon Akeelah and the Bee on Film Four during my couch bound illness period.   I was really surprised at the ending, which I thought I had figured out from about half way through.

Anyway, thats it.  Promise something funny or more interesting when the idea hits me.

A Bit Down Under…

What a sad week.  I have had minimal personal trauma, and work is shit, but that is boring and not for this blog.  I have begun to realise how much I rely on the sunshine in Australia for my personal happiness.  I don’t go there on holiday (although I’m saving up…yay!), nor do I rely on their climate for my happiness.

No, this week the sunshine lives in Summer Bay and Erinsbourough were turned cloudy by the deaths of Belle Taylor and Bridget Parker respectively.  Their deaths by toxic wastedump and Neighbours Killerhorse (TM) respectively cast a cloud over Home and Away and Neighbours this week.   This made for a depressing hour on television every night and has left me under a cloud of melancholy.

I need to see tanned and lithe youngsters having hilarious japes and looking fabulous on the beach.  I need stories so ludicrous that you laugh out loud.  I need Toadie being the life and soul of the party despite having a life so filled with tragedy it’s worthy of a ‘Take A Break’ front page.  I need children with ages that change because it says so in the script.  I want young men shirtless for no apparent reason.  I’d even prefer Karl and Susan comedy sex storylines.

But no, with the lives of two young characters, my sunshine treat was taken from me.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if they had both done it at once, but they did, and now I’m miserable.

Thanks Australia *sigh*

He is not Jesus, but he has the same initials…

I absolutely love Jarvis Cocker, and have ever since I first heard Pulp as an outsider teenager, when the song Mis-Shapes captured my imagination and showed me the way.  I have seen Pulp live once, and Jarvis live earlier this year.  I was in the front row for both and can honestly say that both nights were amongst the most special in my life.  My musical tastes have leaned towards the dramatic ever since.

Like a lot of people, I started with Different Class, then worked backwards.  I’m so glad I did. I think that everyone looked back to His ‘n’ Hers, which is full of absolute stormers.

I would urge all of you who stopped there to go back a little further though.  Pulp were on the go for 15 years before they found fame, and finding the depths of their back catalogue is like being given a gift that you were not expecting.  Here is a guide to my favourite tracks on the oldies.

Intro – The Gift Recordings

Razamatazz could have fit nicely on either Different Class or His n Hers.  A cautionary tale to a dirty stop out, reminiscent of Lipgloss and I like to think about the same person.  It’s the acerbic lyrics that are my favourite part of this song, especially “am I talking too fast? Or are you just playing dumb? If you want I can write it down”

OU starts with a disco bleep, then the organ comes in, then the whole song becomes more frantic as it tells the story of trying to catch up with a girl who is leaving town.  Also has quite a substantial Stylaphone solo, which is always a winner.

Sheffield Sex City taught me everything I know about the geography of Sheffield, and is quite probably the sleaziest song ever written.  Basically about wandering the streets of Sheffield trying to get laid, it contains a monologue about contagious shagging in a block of flats and lots of trademark Jarvis groans.  One for the headphones.

Inside Susan -  A Story In 3 Parts Contains 3 songs centred around the eponymous Susan: Stacks, which is all happy handclaps about a young teenager trying to catch the eye of the boys; Inside Susan, a monologue over disco beats about the musings of Susan as an older teenager; and 59 Lyndhurst Grove which follows Susan as an adult trapped in an unhappy marriage, which is almost funerial in tone and has amongst the most quotable lyrics anywhere.

Seperations

Countdown is full of squelchy beats, which as far as I can tell is not about the TV programme, but impending adulthood and adult responsibilities with a singalong chorus.

My Legendary Girlfriend probably marks one of the weirder moments in Pulp history.  It has an almost military beat, then spoken verses and a cracking chorus.

Masters of the Universe

This album is extremely weird.  Not the weirdest, that’s yet to come, but pretty odd.

Little Girl With Blue Eyes is on the more croony side, and is an extremely painful and bitter song made to sound cheerful with sunny backing vocals.  I can’t illustrate it much better that this lyric “Little girl with blue eyes there’s a hole in your heart/and one between your legs/You’ll never have to wonder which one he’s gonna fill/In spite of what he says”

Dogs are Everywhere is another with embittered lyrics, delivered angrily.  It’s on the croony side too.

97 Lovers was probably the most kitchen-sinky of Pulp songs, before that really became their thing.  A peek behind the bedroom curtains.

Freaks

I promised you the weirdest album, and this is it by far.  Containing songs about Anorexia, circus freaks, submissive and obsessive lovers and being chased after a night out, it certainly lives up to its name.  Here are some of my favourites.

I Want You starts out about a song about desire for a particular woman, that becomes darker and darker.  It starts out about being too shy to talk to her and ends up about “still I’ll kill you in the end”  juxtaposed with plinky disco beats.  A gem.

Being Followed Home is absolutely epic.  A sprawling tale about being followed home (obviously) that changes pace and tone several times.  I love it.

Don’t You Know is another plinky one, with lots of crooning again.  Pulp at their most dramatic.

It

The first album, and unsurprisingly the furthest removed from what they did at the end.  It is almost devoid of the disco beats, more on the acoustic side, but is still marked by the amazing lyrics.

My Lighthouse is a song about love, and lighthouses.  I know it’s strange and he even says so himself.

Wishful Thinking is a beautiful love song.  It’s piano based and extremely dramatic.  You must know by the end of this post that I love drama! More about being given a chance to love than love itself, it’s painful at times but definitely worth it.

So there you go.  I hope I have managed to convert at least one reader, or at least have inspired you to try…

Pills, Chills and Bellyaches.

I don’t understand the Ghosthunting programme.  Yvette Fielding puts on too much eyeliner, then takes people somewhere spooky, does her best to freak them out, and Celebrity Psychologist (TM) Geoffrey Beattie sits outside in a taxi and tells us all why it’s a load of rubbish; rationalising fear reactions and spooky occurences.

Then the Happy Mondays got involved, and lots of things became clearer.  Apart from the slightly shaky ethics of putting ‘recovering’ drug addicts in to a situation of extreme paranoia, it was extremely entertaining.

Here are some of the things I learned…

1.  The Happy Mondays consist of more than Bez and Shaun.
2.  Bez dances when he is scared.
3.  Shaun has a “susceptible” personality type.  Who on earth would have thought?
4.  Ghosts are mostly angry. The best way to deal with this is clearly to anger them further.
5.  Brandy is the Happy Monday’s tipple of choice.
6.  Swearing is funny…
7.  …Although not as funny as Shaun randomly falling over
8.  Geoffrey Beattie is a famewhore.
9.  Yvette Fielding is not as scary as she thinks she is.  Seriously? What is with all that Schoolmarm stuff?
10. Night Vision cameras make everything look freaky.

Erm…

I’m not really sure how I want to go with this blogging business.  Do I go for a niche? If I was to go for a niche, what would it be? Telly? Music? Books? My very boring life?

Do I go all out and blog every minute detail of my life? As all-consuming my work and family life is at the moment, does the internet really need to know about it?

I often feel that I am repeating myself.  I’ll have a thought on twitter, and if it’s really good, I’ll put it on Facebook, and if it’s really sparkling and witty I may put it on a forum.  The problem is there are some people who follow me on Twitter, are members of said forum and are also my friends on Facebook.  Do they get me overkill?

Also, how often does one post on a blog? My brain, which likes to keep me entertained at night by whispering things that make absolutely no sense, tells me that I am not posting enough.  Then it tells me that there are not exactly hundreds of people on tenterhooks waiting for the next installment, are there?

I think for this blog post, I will talk about what I have been enjoying over the past few days…

Tellybox – Celebrity Four Weddings. Four Weddings was aceness on its own, but let’s face it, there’s nothing on telly that can’t be made more exciting by the addition of celebrities.  In this one it was some gay builder that I have never heard of, Nicola McLean (Vaccuuous page three model and former jungle inhabitant), Terry from East 17 (!) and Sandra Flipping Dickinson (!!!!ELEVEN)
The former two had magazine deals, and budgets of 100 and 200K respectively.  Terry “Plumber” Caldwell and the fabulous Miss Dickinson (marrying a hottie 20 years her junior) both had budgets of 15K.  I think you can guess which two weddings looked the most fun (clue, not the ones that had to pause for photo shoots).  Terry the plumber was permanently drunk and looked like the kind of guy you would enjoy a night with and Sandra was just Sandra (i.e. Amazing).  Nicola McLean proved to be the rudest person on the planet and won.

Books – Reading the Rebus series by Ian Rankin.  I’m on book eleven, having started from the beginning.  This is my 5th in the current run.  Nothing to say apart from that Rebus is the daddy.  Oh, and read the books.

Music – Revisiting Jamie T’s Panic Prevention in preparation for his new album, which I am slightly over excited about.  Well, not slightly…

Random thoughts…

How do Derren Brown’s partners cope with having a boyfriend that can read every nuance of their body language, knows what they are thinking and can detect every lie?
On Derren’s Lottery trick…How can a camera trick sustain an hour programme on Friday? There’s got to be more to it.
Exactly how wooden are the scenes between Sam and Peggy on Eastenders going to be?

I think I’ve expelled everything from my brain that I want to! I’ll decide what I want to do with this soon…