wtf? well, we are in that hallowed halcion period where BHA are in a desirable position in the league:
Promotion is ours by right then. Oh wait – there’s a few games left ain’t there?
And no, I’m not talking about the spice hags. I was surprised and delighted to see this morning that the verve have reformed and will be playing glasgow carling academy after releasing a new album this autumn. Tickets on sale this friday – excellent, I thought, I’ll have some of that. And then – only just now, mind you, I thought a bit harder about the dates. Fri and Sat 2 and 3 November. Why does that ring a bell? Of course, Sat 3 Nov is the day I get back from India. In theory I could make the dash from edinburgh airport to weegieland in time, but in reality it would be insane, even if everything were to be on time.
Arse. Cue small previously-referred-to-teeth-gnashing. The first time in ten years they’re playing and I’m not here. Still, it’s a fairly good reason to be missing it, and I was lucky enough to see them in their pomp in 1997 at earls court. Doubtless ashcroft and mccabe will have fallen out again by xmas, but still, a new verve album is something to look forward to. And at least I realised before buying the tickets 
I’ve mentioned before the importance to me of being able to tick off the occasional milestone to mark progress with The Plan™, whether real or manufactured, major or minor. Well, today marks a rather good one. Today takes me to just over half way to paying off the mortgage. 52.08% to be precise, not that I figure these things out or anything. Ahem.
Anyway, yay me. I’ve allowed myself a couple of school night beers to celebrate 
I confess I’ve become a bit bogged down with Pynchon’s Against The Day and am stuck somewhere in the mid-200′s page-wise. Getting stuck with one of his is a problem since by this time the ‘plot(s)’ has/have become so twisted and the characters so numerous that leaving it for any length of time, especially with a memory like mine, is asking for trouble next time one opens the book.
Anyway, I needed a break, and a new book for the bus, so I bought this:
which I’ve been meaning to read for years. I’ve either passed it by in the bookshop or, more often it’s been, as apparently now, out of print. I got this from a secondhand bookseller on teh Intarwebs. In truth I have a number of books on the stack, but nothing I really fancy right now – nothing portable anyway. I must get round to Peel’s autobiography before I leave!
I’m a fan of Kesey’s, so it should be a good distraction. I’ll let you know.
We like beer. Beer am good. Last night myself and donald went to the camra-organised beer festival at the assembly rooms on george street. After wading through the storm-lashed streets of a positively wintry edinburgh, I met my fellow connoisseur in the lobby and we picked up our souvenir pint glasses:
(slightly shonky this year imho – wonder what wit dreamed up the dazzlingly brilliant Bond riff on the year? Probably confected by some brain-damaged straw-chomping weird-beard from a ditch somewhere near The Slaughtered Lamb. Or something.) as we had done in previous years, along with a programme, or “menu” as we prefer to call it.
As with many annual events, some things change, and some things remain. Among the latter were bloke-who-wants-to-be-morrissey who wore the exact same quiff and smiths t-shirt as last year, the super-tacky souvenir stall (this year’s featured t-shirt: the price of the 2012 olympics – £9 billion. Beating the french – priceless), and the snake-oil-merchant-staffed tombola stand (every “1″ a winner, ho ho). Among the things that changed were some of the breweries invited. With limited space, even in a place the size of the assembly rooms, there’s not room for everyone. We were keen to try the ales from Brew Dog (such as Peroxide Punk and the 10% Paradox) but clearly so were many others and they were all gone by the time we made it over to the crowded west bar. I spoke to a rather glazed-looking fellow punter at the east bar, however, who had tried the Paradox and opined that, while very strong, it tasted “fucking awful”, so maybe we struck lucky.
We did manage to sample a goodly number of rather excellent beers though, including Black Cuillin, Pivo Estivo, The Black Galloway, Orkney’s Raven, Red MacGregor and Dragonhead and a few others I forgot to take note of. Heaps of malty goodness. For once we managed to avoid choosing any real howlers, partly thanks to the genuine alkies who had removed from sale most of the super-strong stuff. My only real complaint (other than the glass) was the utterly appalling quality of both grammar and proof-reading in the menu. Maybe they were pissed when they wrote it.
I’m not much of a one for the honours system in this country, given the number of undeserving wretches who end up on the list, not to mention those who simply ingratiate or buy their way there, and to say nothing of grace and favour gong-dishing by someone who did even less to be in the position to dole them out.
However, there are some things in life that not even I can be cynical about, and ian botham’s knighthood is one of them. I’m full of admiration for botham for the way he’s lived his life – no nonsense, no compromise, no bullshit, on the field or in the commentary box and with the talent to back up his attitude. His record in international cricket is one that freddie can but yet dream of, and that’s just the partying. According to the grauniad this morning he was once referred to by Sarfraz Nawaz as “a drug-crazed opium pusher”, and by Imran Khan as “under-educated and lacking class” (for which beefy sued him, and lost…). But they are fools – botham was and is a great man, who could go out and drink beer and smoke weed and still get up in the morning a knock you over first ball.
As if that wasn’t enough, his £10m+ raised for cancer charities is testament to the man’s goodness, and has been conducted with the same dignified straightforwardness that characterises him as a cricketer and a man. Again, into the bargain, he’s been successful too.
There are those who say that the reason he hasn’t received this honour before now is his reputation for bad behaviour and lack of respect for authority – and they’re probably right – but these are the things that make him not a bad person, but a real live human being, and proof that one can enjoy life with gusto, on one’s own terms, and still achieve great things. On top of all that, he’s had the good taste to buy a bentley.
Huzzah, then, for sir ian of the beefs.
More good news from the work front. As Keef once said about spending 25 years in a band with Mick, sometimes little things mean a lot. I was pleased to discover yesterday, then, that dress-down days at work have moved from the last friday of every month to the last friday of every week. This is A Good Thing for two reasons: first, I get to wear proper clothes at work once a week in preference to the benighted nonsense that is “smart business casual” (what language exactly do we speak in this country these days? Hmm?); second, and perhaps more importantly, it reduces my despised weekly ironing chore by 20%. Which is noice.
Two things to report today. The first has nothing whatsoever to do with The Plan™: I was on the bus on the way to get my hair done when I went past a sign opposite Robbie’s that read “Welcome to Leith: twinned with Rio de Janeiro“. If you’ve ever visited Leith you’ll realise how funny that is. Two things occurred to me: one, have they told anyone in Rio?; two, are they selectively twinning with some of the more violent favelas? I suppose one has to admire the audaciousness.
Second thing has everything to do with The Plan™. After some weeks of uncertainty, today I received confirmation that the bank want to extend my contract for another six months. This is Good News, and means that work-wise, 2007 is dealt with. That, in turn, means I have to find another 15 months’ work after that, and then, all things being equal, I’m done. I made a vain effort to wheedle an extra few shekels out of it, but rather mis-timed it. No matter, I have learned a few valuable things and thus consider it the price of an education. Mainly I’m happy that another little piece of the picture has been added. One less thing to worry about for the moment, and another little step closer. Noice.
Donald and I (Adele was to have come with us but unfortunately some loon planned a bonkers work week for her which meant basically being in two places at once this evening, something beyond even her talents 
) headed off to the Weeg this evening to see GnFnR velvet revolver. They’d taken on the big hall in the secc shed, and for a while it looked as though they’d bitten off a bit too much, hardly surprisingly given the rather high prices. The place filled out gradually though and the atmosphere improved no end.
(Ooh – I ought to mention the ridiculous hour-and-a-half train journey to bathgate – a full 20 miles from town – which was rubbish; the barbecued jamaican jerk chicken with coconut rice and peas for tea chez matheson, which was excellent; and the lift all the way back to the flat from donald which was much appreciated – ah, good friends )
A three-piece called zico chain from what sounded like yorkshire were first up (eventually…) and while competent enough, were a bit thrashy for me and a bit predictable for both of us. They seemed keen though, and swore a lot, so they must have enjoyed it.
The velvet revolver experience is a simple one, but very well executed. What you see is basically what you get – most of GnR, minus Izzy who hates touring, plus another mate of theirs in his place, and swap one lunatic frontman for another, thinner, possibly madder one. Into the bargain add the challenge of being around someone still endeared of the brown stuff (aforementioned certifiable warbler – allegedly) and you have an edgy enough experience. I’m not sure how duff (easily one of the coolest men in rock, still) manages it, apart from the alternative being a quick death, although by the look of him he does so in part by going to the gym. A lot.
So, to the music then. In true well-organised rawk fashion the album that they’re touring isn’t out for another three weeks, but the new stuff from it sounds very promising, certainly good enough to warrant a pre-order on amazon. As for the stuff from the first album, it still sounds energetic and committed (that singer again) and the quality of musicianship is top notch. One of those bands also that seem to be able to get a decent sound out of the place. Slash was, for a while, quite restrained by his standards, seemingly content to concentrate on his playing, although there was posturing-a-plenty later on. No sign of the hat roadie tonight – the topper was nailed on all night.
A few nice surprises demonstrating that they’re thinking about what they’re doing – the old GnR repertoire was down to just one, the ever-present It’s So Easy, a fine audience swear-along, although I’m sure some of the youngsters in the crowd may have had their ears clipped by their dads (stood next to them, btw) if they’d belted out all the words to that one. Also, when slash got the double-neck gibson out for a classy solo I thought it was time for Paradise City but no – second biggest surprise of the night was the really rather good rendition of Wish You Were Here. Biggest surprise was left for next when they launched into a belting Psycho Killer. Marvellous. Slither finished things off, by which time the whole band were visibly very into it. Almost everything that wasn’t nailed down was handed to the front rows as souvenirs. I think they like playing glasgow.
All in all a fine evening’s innertainment then. I’ll try to add a picture or two (you know, the fuzzy phone camera type that usually grace these posts) once I can persuade my PC to talk to my phone again. It used to, but it seems they’ve fallen out about something. Eejits.
[EDIT: I have re-established my tenuous authority over my various machines. Result: one half decent phone-pic, many crappy shaky rubbish phone-pics. Enjoy.]
I’ve just been to see pirates of the caribbean : at world’s end. And jolly (rodger) marrrvellous it was too. Forget your high-falutin’ film critics and their sniffy opinions, if you want a third, large, helping of super-camp swashing and buckling then this is the stuff.
I’m not going to bother with a rundown of the story since if you don’t already know or can’t guess then you’re probably not interested, and I certainly shan’t spoil anything for anyone who hasn’t yet seen it. Suffice to say that any film with keira knightly, johnny depp and, most importantly, keef in it has got to be worth seeing. I was not disappointed. The acting is as camp as the script is outrageous. The special effects, especially the make-up, is amazing (mr depp had his own dental make-up effects drone, apparently). johnny depp is as if born to the role, except that keef, in a righteous cameo as teague sparrow, showed how it’s done when you were born to the role. Keef leads – others merely follow. Note also that the actor, as predicted, supplied his own jewellery. And make-up. And hair, feathers, craggy features and swaggering gait to boot. And probably boots as well. Genius.
Listen out also for depp’s little tribute to his late friend hunter s thompson, a nice touch and one I’m sure the doc would have appreciated. Oh, and stay till after the credits. They’re quite long, but there are plenty of people in cast and crew whose names sound good in pirate-style. Yarrrr!
