As the champagne trickled down my face and into my mouth, I casually wondered if I'd failed in my promise to lay of the drink for Lent. I quickly forgot that thought as I bounded back skywards, my fist punching the air with a big grin on my face. I wasn't the only one. The place was going crazy. It seems that this is just a typical night with Imperial Leisure.

I've seen them before some months ago. It was at Madame Jo Jo's. I can't lie about the night. I was drunk. Pissed. Hammered. I remember the hangover almost as much as the night itself. I think we'd gone to see a band called Union of Knives. But it was Imperial Leisure who were on after that I remembered most. I'd never heard of them before. But I certainly never forgot them. Loads of guys packed on to a tiny stage going mental. Driving the crowd mental. And we all danced and sang and drank and fell about laughing it was so good.

But I had a sneaky suspicion that the lagers had chemically enhanced the experience somewhat. Surely the weren't that good? The two mates who were with me that night certainly seem to remember they were good. But you just never know. So this was going to be a test to see how good they really are. As usual, 2 tickets were bought, but my pal couldn't make it. I couldn't persuade anybody to go with me, so I was going on my own. And I really didn't fancy it. I was tired and I had to hang around in work for quite a while. I very nearly went home.

So I arrived tired, irritable and unenthusiastic. And I was going to stay sober. Nice. I bought a drink, then found a nice spot right in front of the stage while one of the supports, The Bookhouse Boys, finished their set. They were pretty good I thought. Nice shoes as well. I had a little sway to them. I wouldn't call it a dance though. I was far too grumpy for that.

Imperial Leisure came on, and because this time I wasn't sozzled, I counted them. My memory of how many there were on stage on that drunken night was a little hazy. My calculation was anywhere between 25 and 90. There are in fact 10 of them. They're all friends from North London. There's a brass section, a DJ, guitar, bass, keyboards, bass, 2 MC's and a singer. They play a mix of hip hop, ska, and rock. But that doesn't quite capture the sheer infectiousness of the band. The energy. Boundless energy.

I moved a bit more for their first song. My arms started to swing during the second. My feet were moving by the third. I leapt in the air for the fourth. I was having a full on party by the end. In between, I'd been grabbed by the lapels by the singer, ducked out of the way of a enthusiastic trombone player and been showered with champagne. And the quality of the songs all through was fantastic. All of them without exception are sing along classics. "Landlords Daughter", "The beast" "Man on the Street", and their new single "In a letter" all stand testament to their sense of fun. And just to cap it all some superb lyrics if you can catch them.

Quite why I struggle to find people to go with me leaves me at a loss. Just listen to their recorded material. Then imagine seeing them do it live about 2 inches from your face. And think how much fun it would be. It's ten times more fun than that. I certainly am not going to worry about going to see them on my own again. I'll tell people how good they are. I'll tell them what they're missing. It's the best I can do. But if I can't make the case for them, I'll simply go see them again and let them state their own case on stage. Loud and clear. Right where they belong.

I saw a girl at the bus stop who'd been there. I'd seen her jumping up and down. I'd seen her laughing, shouting, singing. She was still smiling waiting for her bus. That says it all really.

http://www.myspace.com/imperialleisure

Finally the days are beginning to lengthen and after my misadventures with Waltham Forest Borough Council, I decided that this week's walk was going to not involve anything to do with London and it was therefore time to start to venture out further afield. Being the adventurous type, I unfurled the map across the campaign table at roblog HQ, and aimed for the furthest place I could get to. After I had overslept. Again.

After a quick calculation, I determined that I could probably walk for 5 hours and as the sun set at 17.30 and it was then 11.30, the furthest I could really get to was Essex. Or Kent. I thought about that for a while then decided that although I was going to be charged 2 quid to go to Kent across the Dartford crossing, I actually fancied feeling the Kentish mud beneath my feet. it had been a while.

So, after a quick flick throught the book of Kent Walks (I don't have one for Essex, making more of a case for Kent) I decided upon a walk around Penshurst. It looked quite a nice one, as not only did it look like it was going to a good route, but also I could revisit places that I hadn't been to for a while, such as Hever, Chiddingstone and of course Penshurst itself. It was a 12 mile walk, so a little shorter than my usual, but it was good to get out of London and walk somewhere new. Well... newish.

I got there in about the hour I'd figured it would take me, and I parked up in the village centre. It's amazing how much a whopping great parking fine makes you check and double check, so I made sure there was no possibilty I was going to get my car towed this week. I must have looked like a right old London tosser checking for parking restrictions in a village with 9 or 10 (rather lovely) houses. Once I'd convinced myself that all was well, I then set off on the stroll around some beautiful Kent countryside.

It's a nice route, taking in 2 or 3 crossings of the River Eden. The area is rich with historical connections, as Hever Castle is the seat of the Bullen family and it is there, so the story goes, that Henry VIII fell in love with Anne Bullen, or Boleyn, which of course lead to the establishment of the Church of England and also to Anne's untimely death on the scaffold. Chiddingstone, is also delightful, with it's beautiful old houses and it's stunning church. The scenery was superb and I was so happy to see some snowdrops on the way.

As I walked, I couldn't help but notice a feeling that I find difficult to put into words. The nearest I can put it is that I had an incredible sense of feeling "at home". I'm not sure where it came from, but I'm guessing that growing up in Kent has left me all these years later with the feeling that it's still home. Funny enough, I've lived in London for 13 years now, which is the longest I've lived anywhere. But I still don't think I've put roots down here. I'm not sure I will. But I suppose I've not really given it time anyway. Up until I bought my house, I'd moved on average about once a year, managing to live in Ealing, Shepherds Bush, Ealing again, Marylebone, Belsize Park, Camden, Golders Green, Winchmore Hill and finally here in East Ham. It's not bad here, and I do grow more fond of it day by day, but I can't see myself staying here. Although given my capacity for laziness you never know. But as I've said in a
previous post, London is a varied city. So, although there are common aspects about living here that are shared, each place really is different.

So it seems that I've got a long way to go to match my nearly 20 years I spent in Margate and Ramsgate in my home county of Kent. And naturally, throughout the years, I came to see a fair bit of the places in and around the county. There are many beautiful places in Kent spread right across the county. Many of them have real significance for me as I grew up to become the man I am today. I've got so many pleasurable memories of happy family days out, or Sunday afternoon walks with my dad and family holidays at my grandparents.

I'm coming to realise that deep down that such things are important to me. I'll readily admit I'm a sentimental person, but I don't think that's such a bad thing. It's nice to know your roots and more importantly, it's nice to be able to return to them once in a while. It doesn't mean that I want to live in the past. That would be foolish of course. In fact, I think the opposite is true as I think you are the sum of your experiences in life. Without new experiences, one cannot grow. But I think, for me at least, it's important to know where you are from, and who you are, and learn from past experiences.

So as I walked through Kent countryside, I decided I was well overdue to go for a walk with the old man. Arrangements will be made. I'm sure it won't be in Kent, but it's the Kent countryside that reminded me to do so. I'm off to Stanfords to get some ideas.

I don't often buy albums as soon as they're released, much less pre order them, but I did with this one. It's been 3 years since his last release "Body of Song", and it's not that I'm bored of any of his records, but its a case of I was sure that this one wasn't going to disappoint and it doesn't.

Bob Mould isn't exactly a household name, but in his 25 years of making music, he's had a tremendous influence on the music world. He came to prominence with the 80's Punk band Husker Du, who's influences still resonate in music past and present. He quit the band in 1987, and set off on his solo career, with two very raw albums Workbook and Black Sheets of Rain. He then formed a band, Sugar, with which he had a great deal of success most notably with the album "Copper Blue", before the band split and he returned to making solo music.

Since the Sugar years, Mould has diversified his life, running a club night in Washington DC (where he lives now) called Blowoff. He's even written wrestling scripts. But it's his music that he returns to over and over again. Most often loud and visceral, always thoughtful, melodic and most importantly often experimental. He has not been content to stick with the same sound, and this culminated in his album Modulate released in 2002, where he experimented (i think fairly unsuccessfully as it happens) with dance beats.

At 47, this is his 7th solo album, and I think it's one of his best. It's an album borne of his life in DC over the last 5 years, the ups and downs, and reflecting on growing older. This doesn't make it any less a Bob Mould album than any other, as it still has the essential ingredients that has made his work so good over the years; great song writing, thoughtful lyrics, loud guitars and his very unique voice.

As always, he writes about loves and losses in his life, and on this album, "Again and Again" tells the story of another "ugly fall from grace" in his words. It tells a story much like his song "Moving Trucks" on his album "The Last Dog and Pony Show", and as a song for me it's as good if not better than this favourite of mine.

The single off the album "The Silence Between Us" is quite the opposite, even though the title seems to promise a similar story. It's a song of love and of time spent together. A beautiful song and a fantastically catchy tune.

The silence between us is the time when
I can hear the thoughts on your mind

But it's also a reflection of his place in the world, and his growing feeling of finding himself and being comfortable with where and who he is. In "Old Highs, New Lows", he reflects on this new calmness in accepting all that life throws at him good and bad. And then just for good measure in "Return to Dust", he gives us this little gem as if to underline the point.

Growing old, it's hard to be the angry young man.
Turn away. Turn and walk away.

This is an album of great depth and breadth, a real return to form. Having been a fan of his work for years myself, I'm glad to find he's finding his peace but not losing his edge. I hope there's a lot more to come in the next 25 years.

RING RING
Come on. Answer the phone you bastards
RING RING
Bastards
RING RING
Bloody office should still be open
RING RING
CAN ANYONE GET ME AN OPERATOR PLEASE?

Thus began the most annoying, most expensive, most frustrating trip to a gig I can think of. It had started so well. I'd had a nice relaxing morning, perhaps a little too relaxed, as I left a little too late for my walk. I usually walk from my house and get public transport back, but London transport seems to do it's best to put you in to a car at the weekend, as for the second time running the central line was down from Leytonstone to Stratford. So for the second week in a row I parked up in Leytonstone and walked from there.

It was a beautiful day again in the forest. But I was running late, so I pretty much had to leg it through, all the time calculating how I was going to get to Wimbledon for the gig. The plan was to get there by about 8, and I'd planned to drive and pick up a pal on the way. I was probably getting to Epping station by 4.30, getting to Leytonstone at 5.00, home by 5.30, eat and shower and out by 6.30.

Everything was going to plan I arrived at Leytonstone station bang on time. Only my car was missing. It didn't take me long to realise what had happened. I'd inadvertently parked it in a disabled bay. I didn't mean to. I had no idea I had until I got back. It didn't matter. The car had been towed.

I got hold of the number and dialled it and waited. And waited and waited. Eventually some nice chap answered. He was talking to someone in his office at the same time as me. He eventually found the time to confirm my car had been told then told me it would cost 250 quid to get it back. From Edmonton. Nice. Very nice. Did I mention that they're bastards?

Anyhow. I got a taxi back then just had time for a shower and then with nothing to eat headed for the tube again to get to Wimbledon. I did in fact get there for eight, so it wasn't a total disaster. We had to wait half hour for the band to come on, so retreated to the bar, which was strictly patrolled by bouncers. No drinks allowed outside into the youth club, I mean, venue.

Yes, it was one of those "young" gigs. There were a few brave souls there over the age of 25, but I think maybe 3 or 4 over 30. The rest, well shall we say were probably escaping their homework for the evening. Not that there's anything wrong with that, because us oldies weren't only the odd ones out on the floor, but also on the stage, as this band is young. They age between 17 and 20 and quite honestly they look it, just to make me feel middle aged. They're from Gold Coast in Queensland, and have been together as a band a couple of years. They're a five piece consisting of Amandah on vocals and guitar, a keyboardist, violin, bass and drums.

The first thing you notice about the band is Amandah's amazing voice. Powerful, strong, and a good range. As with a lot of female vocalists, the maturity of her voice belies her age. And she also looks the part. She reminded me of Beth Ditto as the band launched into their first song "Get what you want", which is a stunning song to announce the bands arrival. A real showcase.

They've been doing rather well in their native Australia, having been nominated for a couple of Arias, and played the Big Day Out festivals. So it must have been a bit odd for them to find themselves in this small venue in Wimbledon in the middle of Winter having just left the summer sun at home. The crowd was small and actually quite conservative. I'm not sure Watershed's the greatest of places to see a band though. XFM obviously think so, as it was them that hosted it, but I was seriously unimpressed with the sound. It was far too compressed, and it meant that the band really had to struggle to get over their infectious energy. In particular, the rather delightful violin playing by Taylor was often drowned out by the rest of the band.

The sound problems unfortunately meant that so much of the character had been lost when they played their single "Leave it Alone". Not a problem as the perfomance of "Just a song about Ping Pong" made up for it. It's a song so corny and I don't mean that in a bad way. But not many bands could make it that much fun. Well done to them. They finished with "Zero Zero", which I'd not heard, but it was a cracking little finale.

I've got a feeling we'll here a lot more from this band of energetic Australian yoofs. They're booked for Leeds and Reading festivals. And I think its in the summer sun (or rain as the case may be) that they'll make it. Something wasn't quite right tonight though. Maybe they missed the outdoors. Maybe they missed the sun. Or maybe they missed home. I don't know, but the gig never really came to life as much as I'd hoped.

I wish them all the best though. I hope to catch them this summer with a beer in my hand catching some rays. Just how they're meant to be heard.

Now back to reality. Anyone seen my chequebook?

I don't think I enjoyed the gig on Thursday. But my review was slightly misleading. I had in fact seen Justice before. They were at Field Day last summer. Now, that might have been the case and I can confirm I was there. But I don't remember seeing them at all. Largely because:

a) The organisation there was so poor that they hadn't laid on enough bars. Hence I ordered 8 beers when I got served (like everyone else). I didn't intend to drink most of them, but I think I did. That's not my fault is it? I couldn't give them away and they bloody well weren't going to drink themselves.
b) The sound was so poor that you really couldn't hear much yards from the stage. This was of course exacerbated by the fact I was slightly squiffy and probably on the floor at the time, due to (a). I also cannot remember if I actually was on the floor, also due to (a)
c) Justice are very dull, so I can't be blamed for forgetting I had seen them. I bet they played that song over and over again though.

But one thing I am annoyed about is that I didn't see Late of the Pier who were supporting. Knowing me, someone will probably tell me I've seen them before as well. Oh well, at least if I keep blogging who I've seen I'm not going to forget again.

Ah. Valentine's day. A day to look forward to. Love is in the air. And according to my free lifestyle magazine "The Newham Mag" that the council sends me in return for my council tax, a day to romance your loved one. In Newham. Seriously. They had an article on it, which was unsurprisingly small. Much as I'd have loved to take up their top tips, I had a few problems:

a) Who in their right mind would want to romance their loved one in Newham?
b) Why wait till Valentine's day to romance your loved one? and;
c) I, er, don't have a loved one to romance in the first place.

Obviously Newham was out of the question. I had plans anyway. I was going to see a free gig at the 100 Club, where Bombay Bicycle Club were playing. Now, lack of a loved one not withstanding, I was looking a bit short of mates to go there with, so I was facing up to the possibility of being out on my own on one of the crappest nights to do so on. I might be pretty cynical about the Valentine's malarkey, but having said that, the west end is full of snogging couples on the night, and at the very least it can put you off your diet coke and at the worst send you off on the kind of voyage into introspection that I've been carefully avoiding for the last few months (well, apart from in my blog, but that's a different story).

It was therefore perfect timing when I got a call from a friend in the afternoon to ask me what I was up to that evening. So, obviously there was no need to ask him whether he'd got back together with that bird he'd been chasing. I optimistically asked him if he fancied going to the 100 club, but it turned out he had tickets to Justice, going along with another couple of losers without a date other mates. Sure. What the hell. Never heard of them though. He told me they sounded like Daft Punk. Can't be that bad then I suppose if they're similar to them.

It turns out the only similarity with Daft Punk is that they're also French. But I don't think I remember Daft Punk being as predictable and, frankly uninteresting as Justice were. We arrived just in time to see the whole set. Which at the time seemed like a good thing. Bizarrely we were told that we could only put bags in the cloakroom on accounts that we'd "arrived late". "Sure thing, mate", I replied, " It's got nothing at all to do with the fact you've not got enough capacity to handle people coming through the doors all wearing coats in mid winter". This didn't appear to go down too well, so we disappeared into the venue.

It was indeed full when we got in, and the band were just coming on as we'd arrived. I say band, but they're actually 2 guys. And they just bob up and down like "live" electronic acts do. Not especially interesting. Thats why Orbital and the Chemicals put on lights for you to look at. These guys managed to put an illuminated Cross on the front of the stage, and after that the lighting was at best described as minimal. One of my mates said it was so bad it was a hair's breadth away from those traffic light mobile disco lights. And he was pretty spot on.

Justice, (well actually Justice vs Simian) are best known for "We are your friends", which to be fair is a stonking tune. A fantastic electro masterpiece loved by many. And boy did they milk it. Over and over again. We heard that damn line throughout, and the kids lapped it up every time. It's a pity that the quality of the music in that track wasn't really reflected thoroughout. The sound they play (if they do actually play - what the hell do they do behind the desk?) I'd describe as big beat. Very loud. Very unsubtle. And very dull after a while.

Initially it was all pretty good, but it didn't really progress. Just the same sounds, the same beats and the same samples played in a different order. And that bloody "We are your friends" chucked in for good measure to remind us all who they were. I think it's fair to say that they played to their audience who would have been pleased if they'd have just put their album on and sat around on deckchairs for an hour. They went wild over an electric guitar sample for goodness sake. It wasn't even a good one. And then they played "We are your friends" over it. Again.

I'm glad it ended when it did. We all were to be honest. We couldn't help it though. That tune is so catchy we ended up singing it as we left. We made a few slight adjustments to it though.

"We've... got.... one song.
It.... goes... on and on."

Repeat. For ever. You get the picture.

It had been less than a week since I'd seen Ida at the 229. She'd been so good then I'd got tickets for this gig the same night, which was fortunate as, unlike the 229 gig, this one looked like a sellout.

The Borderline is a fantastic venue for someone like Ida. It's small, and gloriously sweaty and cramped. It creates a fantastic atmosphere and it was a treat to be there. I'd gone along with a friend this time, and it was a real surprise that we bumped into another one of our mates there who had gone by himself. So the three of us went down the stairs to wait for the band to come on.

I looked around, and I remembered a few faces from the previous Thursday. I wondered if they recognised me (and I hope they noticed that I actually had some friends!). We managed to find a spot right in front of the stage, and thankfully without the confounded pillar in the way, although we had to split up as space really was limited. it wasn't a worry, as the band soon came on.

She was wearing the same hat, but this time she wore a rather funky green dress. And she looked good enough to eat. I think I'm already developing a teenage crush on the woman. It doesn't help that every song seemingly is about sex, as she delightedly informed us. I'm not sure the set was the same as the last time, but although it wasn't quite as loud, the sound was much better.

"Did you see us on Jools Holland?", Ida enquired. She giggled before answering her own question "We looked cool". And if they gave as good a performance as they did tonight, I'm sure they did. She then poured a bottle of water over her face, and swung round towards the audience, showering the ones closest to her with the water and her sweat. She looked the part as she launched into "I like you better when you naked" which once again was heaps of fun. But it was "Oh My God" once again that was the highlight. Unbelievably, it was better, more exciting, more passionate and so bloody good, I couldn't believe my own ears.

Thankfully, tonight the crowd managed to get her to come back for an encore. She sang "We're all going to hell", which is a beautiful number, and we all were encouraged to sing along as the music faded away. We all went to Heaven for a moment. Perfect.

Just as well I'm still in a good mood from the weekend, as tonight's result against Burnley would have been hard to take. Conceding four goals after taking a two goal lead was a bit of a changed performance from the game on Saturday against Southampton.

It certainly was an entertaining game. I thought both sides played attractive football. We certainly seemed to lose all sense of impetus when Rowly went off. I don't know why. And Burnley's first goal was unlucky for us I think. But what worried me was after their second, we really looked deflated. I said at the time that we looked like a team that was going to lose. The body language in the players certainly showed that (apart from Agyemang and Mahon maybe). I thought that Vine in particular was not at the races, especially compared with his performance on Saturday.

So it was unsurprising that we went behind. But what depressed me most was that we looked knackered 75 minutes into the game. A beaten side before we'd actually be beaten. It was back to the bad habits of the pitiful second half performances that have cost us so many points earlier in the season. Burnley worked hard to get back into the game I thought and they also worked hard after they drew level. They simply wanted it much more than us.

I notice that De Canio thinks complacency may have set in during the game.It certainly did amongst some of our fans. I even had a chuckle at the people cheering each pass after 20 minutes and singing "You might as well all go home". What we saw tonight was a Burnley team that was more committed, more focussed and worryingly so it seems fitter than ours. And I also thought that Cole and Akinbaye were also a fantastic pairing up front. I thought the their second goal was really well worked.

But - and a big but here - I don't think I can really criticise individual performances. I thought that defensively we looked OK for long periods in the game. The only two criticisms are that the last two goals were indeed poorly defended, but I do think that was down to the malaise that had swept the team earlier. Mahon was putting himself about as did Leigertwood, but I'm not sure they work as a pair. Akos and Vine were perhaps not at their best, but for me Pat worked his socks off for the entire 90 minutes.

It's probably a game to put behind us, but not forgotten, as I think there are a huge amount of lessons to be learnt not only by the players and the management but by us as fans. We're not a world beating team yet. Not for a while at least. Just be patient.

It's been a good weekend. The sun has shined. QPR won away and I was there to see it. I've been for a lovely walk with a very good friend. And I'm in a frightfully good mood. It doesn't come much better than this I think.

It's good to feel good isn't it? I mean, the very nature of being means that it's not always possible to feel good all of the time no matter what's happening in your life. But when these times come by they are certainly to be treasured. Even writing this blog entry is a real pleasure. I'm listening to some fantastic music (The Brute Chorus and also Tom Hickox, and they're worth checking out) while I write it.

I started the year feeling good about myself, and although I didn't set myself a new year's resolution (I don't believe in them to be honest), I told my friends that I felt this year was going to be a good one for me. I've written about it before. And so far so good. I'm continuing to eat well and drink less. I'm losing weight. I've even grown a beard and I've received lots of lovely compliments about it (although to be fair, most people have been honest and not everyone thinks so). I think my mother will make or break it for me if the truth be told!

I've been thinking about why I'm feeling positive about me and about my life and my future. And I think it's quite a simple difference in my approach. I just feel a little bit more in control of my own destiny. I've got a plan. Well, several in fact. I'm not drifting, waiting for things to happen. Because they won't, not unless I make them happen.

I'm quite sure it's easy to over analyse one's life and life in general, but I do think it's really important to learn what makes you tick, what makes you laugh and what makes you cry. Without knowing this, then I think it's really difficult to know where you're going and that for me isn't a good place to be. For me, life isn't about material wealth, or success in business or career. It's not about driving the right car, or being seen at the right bar or about wearing the right clothes. It's not about accumulation of wealth. Or a bigger house. Or getting a high powered job.

I've realised that for me, it really is something as simple as this. The pursuit of happiness. And that's no easy challenge. Many intelligent and gifted people have tried to identify what makes us happy. They've all failed. We're far too complicated to come up with a recipe for happiness that suits everyone, so we need to know enough about ourselves to try and learn our own recipe. So here's my first attempt at mine:

1. Find some activities that you love and make sure you continue to do them in ways that you enjoy. Ignore the activities that you don't love where possible. Never ever stop looking for new activities that could add to your happiness.
2. Make sure that whatever it is that you do for a living, the most important part of it should be that it engages you and that you continue to learn and grow as you do that job. Move on whenever this isn't the case.
3. Make lots of friends. Take care of them and cherish them. Pick them up when they're down. Share as much of your time with them as you can. Encourage them to find their own recipe for happiness. Don't lose touch with them. Never be too proud to be the one who keeps the friendship going.
4. Smile as much as you can. Never ever forget the power of a smile. Remember what makes you smile, and try to do the things that make you smile. Try not to do the things that make you sigh and frown. Laugh whenever possible but never be afraid to cry.
5. Love and be loved. Love your family. Love your friends. Find the love of your life. Never be afraid to put your heart on the line for love. Don't be afraid of getting hurt, as those that love you will surely help you in times of need. Love yourself and remember if you don't love yourself, then no one else can.
6. Never stop learning. Don't close your mind to new ideas. Don't be afraid to change your opinions when you've been wrong in the past. Read as much as you can.
7. Look after yourself. You're ultimately the only person who can.
8. Don't ignore problems that prevent you from following any of these steps. They won't go away and will most likely get worse if neglected.
9. Above all, remember that this life isn't a rehearsal. Avoid regret at all costs. Regret is the cancer of happiness.

It's interesting as I wrote these down that I was thinking about so much of my life past present and future. Some things I've got right. Some things I haven't. I think it's easy to lose sight of simple things that keep us happy. We all get lost sometimes in the things that life throws in our way. But I do truly believe that if you follow simple principles in your life, then it really is possible for life to get better and better each day.

I hope I'm right. And I'm going to leave this weekend as a benchmark of where I want to be. I said at the start that it doesn't come much better than this. Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn't. But that's no reason to give up on trying to make it better every day.

Oh My God. This was very good.

I'd been looking forward to seeing her for some time, after being introduced to her music by a good friend of mine. Unfortunately she couldn't make it tonight, so I turned up tonight on my own to a venue that I wasn't particularly keen on. I'd been there once before to see Archie Bronson Outfit. It wasn't the most successful night as I'd turned up worse for wear with two friends in worse states. And we ended up getting there late, so we missed most of the gig. But I really didn't like the venue much, so I wasn't expecting a great place to get to see her. But, what I didn't know is that there are actually 2 venues there - one much more intimate than the other. Luckily this gig was in the smaller venue, which is lovely and compact with low ceilings, sofas and a relaxed friendly atmosphere.

I arrived just as the support band was starting. And the first thing I noticed as I walked past the stage was that it was loud. Ear damagingly loud. The poor barmaid couldn't actually understand a word anyone was saying and we all resorted to pointing. So, non alcoholic drink in hand, I focussed my attention to the support band, Cage The Elephant. I'd never heard of them or their music before. But I quickly took to them. I don't think I often refer to a band as "tight", but these guys really were fantastically well rehearsed. Hailing from Kentucky, the 5 piece play a sort of funky, blues influenced rock, and (I'm not good at this sort of stuff) they at times sounded a bit like the Black Crowes. But then again I haven't listened to the Crowes for years so the comparison might not be good. But I'd definitely see them again if I had the chance. I'm glad I saw their set.

It was a half hour wait for the main event. This gave me time to have a look around the room and see the people who were there. And it was a pretty interesting mix. Age range was about 18 - 60 which is pretty impressive. There was no obvious "type" of fan there. But there was the worlds most loved up couple there snogging the whole time they were there. And there was the smelly crusty who decided to stand next to me. And he reeked. But mostly people there seemed all up for a good time.

Ida and the band came on, and the first thing you noticed is her striking looks. She's got fantastic piercing eyes, and a brilliantly dramatic dress sense, coming on stage in hoopy tights, and a rather lovely looking hat. "This is my Wonka hat", she explained, "Or rather my wanker hat. Ha ha". Well, I think it looked pretty cool. The guitarist reminded me of John Lord out of Deep Purple such was the magnificence of his moustache. She's from Sweden or Norway. I'm not sure what the arrangement is there but she performs all the songs in English. Which is terrific news for me as I'm not particularly talented in Nordic languages (I didn't speak a word of Swedish other than "Takk" when I was in Stockholm).

Ida and the band have released only one single so far, but I'm familiar with a fair bit of the music from her MySpace page and various podcasts and radio plays. Her MySpace page describes her music as Indie/Punk/Rock, which I suppose just about covers it, but it doesn't prepare you for the energy and excitement she puts into the performance. It helps that the songs are all pretty good as well.

The set was short (about half hour) but of exceptional quality throughout. The obvious highlights were "Stella", "Oh My God", and "Better When You're Naked". The latter is something special - musically nothing out of the ordinary, but so much fun. It's now officially for me the most sexy song in the world. I never knew you could have so much fun singing along with the words of the song

"I like you so much better when you're naked
I like me so much better when you're naked"

over and over again.

She finished with "Oh My God", the stand out song from the set. To hear it live was truly breathtaking. That's why I've found tickets for her gig next week.

I think this is the third time I've seen Art Brut and I was wondering how come they've not had more success in their 5 years together as a band. Don't get me wrong - they're not doing bad, but with 2 really good albums to their name and what with them being a highly amusing and entertaining live act, it seems to me that all their hard work isn't producing the success that I really think they deserve. Especially since they seem to work so hard at what they do, with what looks like a punishing tour schedule.

We arrived just as the band had started, which was impeccable timing as we'd stayed in the pub watching the dull-fest that an England friendly is. But at least Nigel the landlord at The Stag laid on some food which is always gratefully received.

Whilst the band is pretty good, the live experience really is all about the singer Eddie Argos and his performance. I think in another age, he could be described as zany, and he certainly has a style all of his own. His vocal style is more rhythmic than melodic, as he tells stories of ex girlfriends, days in bed, fighting and what ever seems to be on his mind. The performances of the songs live don't actually differ much from their recordings, so there's not a lot really to say about them, other than the quality of the songs are fantastic, and each and every song is so much fun to listen to and watch the band.

I said at the start I'd seen the band 3 times. Would I see them again? You bet I would. Always a pleasure - and what's more they leave me each time with the biggest grin on my face. I hope they get the success that must come their way soon. They deserve it. They deserve to be Top of the Pops. Go see them whenever you can.

Art Brut - Top of the Pops

Last year I gave up eating meat (but not fish) for Lent. I found it quite a useful thing to do. I think it's nice to be disciplined once in a while. So I'm going to give up something else this year. Up until now, I've been fairly on and off about the drink, but since I'm only half way to my weight loss target, I thought it would be good for me to be alcohol free for the next 40 days.

Although my target is beginning to look like a real challenge now, I'm not giving up. I'm just going to up the stakes a bit now. And actually stick to my no booze thing. On accounts of it being Lent, which of course means I'll stick to it. Even though I'm not religious, that indoctrination as a child should keep me in check to make it for these next 5 or 6 weeks.

Piece of cake.

Well, obviously that's out as well. Dammit.

Ralph McTell is best known for his song "Streets of London", which had chart success and won him an Ivor Novello award. But there's a lot more to him than just one song, far more than I know about in fact. A singer/song writer of considerable talent, his styles vary from folk to blues, from love songs to psychedelia.

"Kew Gardens" can be described as a whimsical folk song, but that belies the sensitivity of the song, the performance and the lyrics. At the time it was written, McTell had never been to Kew, but the song was written after a friend of his visited and described it to him. It tells the story of of a shy man and woman as they spend a day in the gardens. I love the pattern and pace of the lyrics as he describes the pair as they spend their afternoon on a summers day. In particular I adore the words describing the moment the man sees the lady as she enjoys the pleasant surroundings of the gardens:

He saw her linger
And With her finger open up a rose,
Standing on tip toes

As the story continues, the rain starts to fall and they innocently spend some time together, chatting until the sun comes out once again, obviously enjoying one another's company and losing themselves in each other. And then they part, never to see each other again at the end of the day.

And one of the griffins cried

For me, this song really does really appeal to the romantic side of me. I love the thought of meeting the love of your life in such a way - but what I really like about the song is that although it's obviously a gloriously rose tinted view of love amongst the lily ponds and pagodas it's actually a story of love lost, or perhaps more poignantly love never found.

I first came across this song through buying my Dad a birthday present. He's always loved the song "Those Were the Days" by Mary Hopkin. which incidentally was produced by Paul McCartney and is the most well known of her songs. She recorded a number of Ralph McTell songs, and Kew Gardens was one of them.

I loved the CD I bought for my Dad so much, I bought a copy myself and I always loved "Kew Gardens" on it. And from this CD, I then decided to listen to more of Ralph McTell. It's a tough one deciding which version I like best. McTell's own version is by far the most interesting, as the arrangement of both the instrumentation and the vocals is much more varied and complex than Hopkin's. But for me, the purity and innocence of her voice and the simplicity of the recording compliments the innocence and simplicity of this rather sad tale. And I love it every time I hear it.

I've been playing video games for as long as I remember. I'm one of those mid thirties guys (and let's be honest we're mostly chaps, sorry girls) who've grown up with them. I've played on many different platforms. Arcade, ZX81, Spectrum, C64, Game and Watch, Atari 2600, Amiga, Dreamcast, Playstation, PC, PS2, N64 and Gamecube. Probably many many more.

There are so many favourite games that I've spent time (and certainly not wasted it) playing. Elite, Rome Total War, Elder Scrolls Oblivion, Kick Off, F/A 18 Interceptor, Battlezone, Soul Caliber, Pro Evo, Zelda, Way of the Exploding Fist, Yars Revenge, Impossible Mission, Frogger, Silent Service, Resident Evil, Ico, Mario, Mario Kart, Shadow of the Colossus, The Hobbit, Half Life 2, International Karate, Parappa the Rapper, Winter Games, Leaderboard, Boulder Dash, Worms, Stunt Car Racer, Gran Tourismo, Shenmue, Sonic, Soul Reaver, God Of War, Crazy Taxi, Grand Theft Auto. The list goes on and on.

But there's a common affliction that my 30 something gaming peers are suffering from. The lack of time to commit to our pastime. Where once there wasn't much to get in the way of playing your games, we now find our adult lives getting in the way. We've grown up and some of us now have families. We all have commitments. And other interests outside gaming. And we've got other financial priorities to worry about. Like, you know, paying the mortgage, saving money for holidays, saving money for pensions, paying bills. So many bills.

And what happens is that your list of games that you want to play just gets longer and longer.

2007 was a pretty good year for games. Edge magazine awarded three perfect tens, a total in a year that exceeds the total number given in the past years. Obviously I've got to play them.

The next generation of consoles has been with us for a year, and I've got none of them. Sitting under my alarmingly non widescreen, non HD, non flatscreen telly is a worryingly old looking PS2 and its pal the gamecube. Not a PS3, Wii or 360 to be seen. In fact my only relatively up to date gaming equipment is my beloved DS and my PC (which still needs an upgrade).

My list of unplayed games that I want to play is getting worryingly large:

Half Life 2 Episode 2 / Portal (aka Orange Box) - PC
Bioshock - PC
Zelda: Twilight Princess - Wii
God of War 2 - PS2
Okami - PS2
Rock Band - Multi
Super Mario Galaxy - Wii
Assasin's Creed - Multi
Medieval Total War 2 - PC

Somewhere I want to find the time to play these games. And for some of them I need new hardware. I want a Wii. And either a PS3 or 360. And a HD TV to go with it. It begs the question though. Is it worth my time and money to keep playing? Am I still getting the same kick out of games as I used to? Its a difficult one to answer.

In the end I think it's going to be the same thing that keeps me playing games that kept me playing all my life. It's that same thought that's kept me on the sofa. It's the same thought that as a consequence of playing God of War tonight, I'm writing this in the wee small hours, despite thinking I might write it at a much more reasonable hour of the day. What is it?

GAME OVER
"Just one more go...."

Right. Let's get this straight - I'm gong to go off piste with this entry. It's true I went to see King Creosote in Islington tonight. I'll even go so far as to say I enjoyed myself. But I'm not going to stick to the point. So bail out now while you still can.

Having just deleted the word 'So' as the start of a paragraph, on the grounds I feel I start too many sentences with this word, I feel I now I owe it to you to make it worth your while to keep reading. So I'll start at the beginning (and for the observant amongst you I did use the word 'So' there once more - I only promise to not use it at the start of a paragraph (and trust me that's hard enough). I only found out about this gig about 3 or 4 days ago. Little did I know that the tickets had been on sale for 2 or 3 months. So like a fool I asked if anyone wanted to go. Lucky enough one of my friends wanted to go, but as it turned out they couldn't make it. So I had a ticket if I wanted it. Which was cool.

I'm not good at getting up in the morning. I don't think that's ever going to change. On Tuesday I'd overslept a little so I turned up at work at 1pm. A little embarrasing even for me. But today I had to be in for a 9 o'clock meeting. So it was I turned up at 8.30. Not so early for most. But early enough for me. I took in a change of clothes just in case I went to the gig tonight, although I kind of suspected that I wouldn't go. I managed to stay at work till 7. By then I was so tired that I'd had enough. I phoned my friend to tell him I couldn't be bothered going on my own (he couldn't make it apparently). But it turned out he could make it after all. Which was a surprise.

We arrived at the venue at about 9pm. It turned out neither of us had been there before. Which was pretty amazing as we both go to a lot of gigs. As venues go it's just the right size and the sound was pretty good. We'd stationed ourselves in what he called the "'Gay Zone". This was in close proximity to the bar with the weird looking fan boys. Not sure they were gay, but it was close to the bar. So we stayed there. I'd not had a drink for a little while so it was good to have a few with a good mate. It was made all the more fun as he's from Fife as is King Creosote. Apparently, he plays on his Scottishness. But from my point of view don't they all?

I should say a few words about King Creosote. The band was good. He was good. His songs are good. He's good. It was good. But for some reason I didn't think the whole thing was good. Maybe I expected it was going to be better than the last time I saw him. But that's an unrealistic expactation. I think perhaps reflecting on it my original decision to go home tonight was what I really wanted to do and no matter what he did on stage tonight it wouldn't be good enough. That was probably it - as he was good. Very very good. But I still didn't feel the same about it all as I did the other times I'd seen him. Perhaps I want him to do another album? The truth of the matter is I don't know.

But as I left the venue tonight, what was apparent was that sometimes it's not the music but the company that you're with. I'd not seen my mate for a couple of months. I'm sure if he reads his he's say I was gay for saying it, but tonight was much more about friends than the music. Don't get me wrong - Kenny plays a pretty decent soundtrack to that - but it has to be said I was on my way home until he said he could make it. It's not that I don't go to gigs on my own, but tonight wasn't that night.

And then having had a really good night, I listenend to Handel's Solomon (or at least a third of it) on the way home. And it struck me how much I love this music. I'd love to sing again. It doesn't mean you have to believe any of the religious content. Far from it. As I walked home listening to the sheer magic of this music I remembered the men in the choir I was so proud to sing in in Ramsgate. I knew they weren't religious. But I couldn't understand why they wanted to come along. But tonight as I listened to the drama and excitement of this work, I finally undestood why they came. They loved the music. Quite why it's taken me this long to understand that I don't know. But tonight I had one of those Road to Damascus moments. It really doesn't matter if you believe in any of the religious content, but enjoy the music for what it is. I've no doubt that the vast majority of religious art (either audio or visual) was created by non believers - it simply was the practice at the time to find a rich patron who would write the expenditure off "to the glory of God" in the hope of saving his (and let's face it girls it was always a chap) rich arse. But that meant that that the Handels Mozarts and the Michelangelos of the world could express themselves.

And thank God for that.

Last week I and a few friends bade farewell to another one of our friends as he returned to the land of the long white cloud. We'd met up in Victoria station, which doesn't sound too glamourous I know, but trust me the bar in the Thistle Hotel in the station really is pretty good. Head and shoulders above any of the other pubs and bars in the immediate vicinity of the station. Highly recommended.

After some time, we retired to a local Lebanese restaurant, Noura where we enjoyed a fabulous meal and enjoyed each other's company. After we'd eaten, I leant back in my seat and reflected on my friends. We'd gone to the same school, and stayed friends ever since. I remarked at the time how impressed I was that I was sat in a fine restaurant with a talented author and photographer, a historian and a scientist.

The funny thing was I'd never really thought about them in those terms before. But as I thought about that, I felt both humbled and inspired that all three had followed their passions and interests thoroughout their lives and still pursue them as adults and I have no doubt will continue to do so for the rest of their days. I felt humbled as we talked about this, as one of them mentioned that it would be sad to go through your life and not leave anything behind to show you'd once lived. At the same time, in some small way I felt inspired to follow my own passions myself. I suppose this blog in a way is a step in the right direction, but I feel quite sure there's a whole creative side to me bubbling under the surface wanting to break out. It's never too late.

So here's to you chaps. Keep up the good work and keep doing what you love.

Regular readers of my blog if they haven't seen me lately might be wondering how I'm doing after my unexpected trip to hospital.

The answer is pretty good. On Friday, I thought I'd give myself a little work out, so seeing as the weather was good, I got up earlyish (for a day off) to do my usual route to Epping, but with the express aim of doing it quickly to see if I was feeling better. And I have to say it went pretty well, and I felt better than ever. The weather was great, I was in a great mood and the air smelt wonderful. And I was going at quite a pace that I think I got to Highams Park in record time, despite the mud, which makes walking fast a little problematic.

In fact, I practically skipped up a small incline, between the trees, such was my enthusiasm. Which was then tempered by the painful pinging of one of my muscles in my lower back. I don't know, you get one thing sorted and another thing goes wrong. But I thought it was better to carry on, which I did. But by the time I got to Epping station about 4 hours later, my back and legs were complaining.

The good news is that my chest felt fine though, which was what I set out to reassure myself of. So that was good. But it got better, as I was meeting up with the guys from work for a night out at a Greek restaurant. The meal wasn't bad, but I didn't much want to get involved with the slightly naff disco afterwards (it doesn't help when you're not drinking). Fortunately, the pain in my back prevented me from getting involved. What a shame.

After that, a few of us went to Langleys for Jon's birthday. Now admittedly I was sober and I did turn up at about 11.30, but boy that place is nasty. It actually smelt of sick. The service was poor, and even the glasses weren't clean. Absoultely disgusting. I will never set foot in that place again. Bad back or no bad back.

I'm beginning to think this was a mistake calling this track of the week....

Jam and Spoon were a influential German electronic act. They were Rolf Ellmer and Markus Löffel who was otherwise known as Mark Spoon. Spoon was also a DJ. They had a certain amount of mainstream success in the mid nineties with primarily their Album Tripomatic Fairytailes and the Singles Stella and Right in the Night.

The track Follow Me was a B-Side to "Right in the Night". For me, "Right in the Night" summed up a lot of what was bad about Euro dance/techno/whatever. But it did pretty well, despite its cheesiness.

Thankfully, Follow Me was something else. It's a track that sometimes doesn't know what it is. It starts with a fairly bit of generic sounding bit of Euro dance with the slighly annoying lyric being repeated, but once it gets going it settles down into a fairly stripped down techno track losing the chart friendly melody that could well have ruined it. At this point, it's more Detroit than Berlin, running at about 140bpm. About half way through, the techno sound dies to be replaced by some fairly expansive and lush chords as the sound turns a bit more ravey.

And then all hell breaks loose as the track then erupts in to (what for me at the time, I think 1994) the mother of all breakdowns. The tempo rises to about 180, and the sound once more descends into something else, a little more acidy (at this point I really should mention I really am hopeless at describing dance music genres), before dying away into the chords we heard first in the middle of the track.

When I hear this track it always takes me back to one night, myself and Rob ventured to the legendary Orbit @ The After Dark club in Morley near Leeds in probably about 1993. Mark Spoon was DJing that night. And the place absolutely rocked. We didn't have a car, so it was a bit of a mission getting there, so it was a bit of a one off, but made all the more memorable as it was at the time one of the best Techno venues in the world.

Tragically, Spoon died in 2006 of a heart attack aged 39. He's fondly remembered by a large number of people around the world, so for that one night in Morley and a lifetime of enjoying your music Mark, I thank you.

Well, I think it's time for the obligatory rant about PCs and technology from this Software Developer, Architect or whatever.

I've taken the week off with pretty much the only aim to get up to speed with a few bits and pieces that I don't have the chance to at work, such as .Net 3.5, Orcas, the MVP framework and all that good stuff. But I've been up against a brick wall of broken computers like you wouldn't believe.

First off I ran against problems with the Windows Update. I've got a dual boot XP/Vista machine. My Vista PC is a 64 Bit one, and I keep the XP one for games and anything that won't work on 64 Bit (such as my version of Nero). So I did both. I should have learnt never ever to download drivers from Microsoft. Apart from having all sorts of difficulties updating my XP machine (for some bizarre reasons the .Net Updates kept failing), one driver update totally trashed it and blue screened it on log on. It turns out it was the Soundblaster Driver I had updated. But this took some time to sort out. I needed this machine in order to burn the VS2008 disk I had downloaded so I had no option but to get this done.

So, once this was done I thought I'd do something crazy like backup my main data disk. It's about 150GB - Raid 1. But I thought it would be good to get an offline backup. So, I'm using Vista, and I'm sure I'd read somewhere that the backup for Vista was going to change my life. It did but what a pile of pony it is. I won't dwell on it but I think it's a real step backwards.

I left it running over night. And then my machine hung. Again. Now, in fairness it's been doing that for some time. So, as part of this job I thought I'd sort this little conundrum out. Again, and lots of experiments with PCI settings and burning a new BIOS. cutting a long story short, it turns out that the driver (isn't it always a flaming driver) was at fault. So off I went to the ASRock website and downloaded more drivers. And quite apart from vista constantly getting in my way, I thought I'd sort it out. But whatever I did I couldn't get it working satisfactory, so I eventually gave up and de-activated my RAID to do the backup (I thought this was wise - take a backup before re-establishing the mirror).

Oh, and this little chestnut managed to waste another hour.

The backup ended up taking nearly 7 hours. Rendering my machine fairly inoperable at the time. But the backup completed, and I'm guessing it's backed everything up - but I may well revert to robocopy, just to be sure it backs up everything.

The backup completed, so all I needed to do was to reinstall the driver software for my Raid device right? Yep. All looked good. So I was going to have a productive day today. So, I logged on, put some tunes on, and... and... "what the hell is that?". Every time I moved or scrolled a window, the sound juddered. I couldn't believe it. I'd managed to update my PC - backup my data and update my RAID drivers, and now my sound drivers were screwed. Never mind. Off to creative to update them.

It didn't work. It really sounded like there was some conflict going on, so off I went back to the BIOS and changed a lot of PCI/AGP settings. It didn't do much good. But I was glad I sorted out my XP build, as I confirmed that this wasn't having the same problem. So it wasn't a BIOS issue. So, maybe it was the graphics driver that was conflicting. So uninstall the RAID drivers. Unistall the Graphics drivers (which is harder than it sounds) and then off to NVidia for the lates Vista 64 Forceware update.

That then corrupted my graphics. I forgot about that. It always does. It seems to me that only the default Vista driver for the 7600GT works. Not even the NVidia or Microsoft updates work. So I put this back. And there was no judder on the sound. Good. Then I reinstalled the Chipset/RAID software from ASRock. The Judder returned.

This was getting irritating now. Luckily I had another option - I downloaded more drivers from VIA (it's a VIA chipset). But they wouldn't install. So back to uninstalling and installing everything in the right order - and - it worked...

So how long has this little exercise taken? 3 days. I repeat. 3 days. I really have no idea why its so difficult and I shudder to think what people not in the industry (or PC World employees for that matter, they're much the same thing) would have made of it.

But in the end - it's all down to drivers. Drivers are the root of all unstability in Windows. They always have been. Microsoft have gone to great lengths in XP SP2 and Vista to try and address this. But almost every problem I ran into was caused by drivers. If you've made it to the end of this article and you are a windows user the moral of the story is to be very careful when updating drivers. Make sure you know what you're doing (I didn't!). And make sure you're well backed up should it go wrong. And most importantly, only update them if you have to. And save yourself 3 days of pain.

I saw this on Amy's Blog. So I tried it..

RULES:
1. Put your MP3 player/ iPod on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" You say?
Higher than the Sun (Primal Scream)

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
Helpless (Hilmar Orn Hilmarsson)

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Turquoise Hexagon Sun (Boards of Canada)

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Man on the Moon (Sugar)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
It's all too much (The Beatles)

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Cracker Jack (Ol Dirty Bastard)

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Bird Dream of the Olympus Mons (Pixies)

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Scared of Girls (Placebo)

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Year 2000 Non Compliance (Mogwai)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Refuge (when it's cold outside) [John Legend]

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Staralfur (Sigur Ros)

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Lord Let it rain down on Me (Spiritualised)

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
One Man's Fear (Lo Fidelity All Stars)

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Everyone's a VIP to Someone (The Go! Team)

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Get Out of my House (The Streets)

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST??
Survival (Nightmares on Wax)

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
God Only Knows (Beach Boys)

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
You can't do it right (Deep Purple)

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS?
Fresh Pair of Panties On (Snoop Dogg)

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Everybody's Stalking (Badly Drawn Boy)

It's not often you find yourself hooked up to a heart monitor, wearing an oxygen mask staring up at the lights in the resuscitation area in hospital. But that's where I found myself on Wednesday night, bewildered and somewhat concerned about my health. I don't want to end up there again. Well, not for a long while anyway.

I'll start at the beginning. I played in a Inter Regulatory Body football tournament a week ago last Wednesday. I played in goal as usual. It was a fantastic evening. The football was good and it gave me a chance to catch up with old friends. And we did pretty well. I think our team's average age must have been about 35, which meant we were probably lacking in a bit of youth over the other teams. But we got to the semi finals where we met the GMC. Oh how we wanted to beat them. Even though as a regulatory body the NMC is (we think) the biggest such body in the world, it always seems to me that we sometimes live in the shadow of them. So there was a bit of an edge to the match. So obviously it didn't help that we quickly conceded two tame goals. It was uphill from there, but there was some fight left in us. After conceding a third we got one back, and tried to force our way back into the game. But they caught us on the break. They fired a shot to my left which I dived for and got my fingers to, but unfortunately the ball went in.

But I'd hurt myself. I'd taken a hefty blow to my left hand side, and I remember feeling the judder of pain. But it's a man's game right? So I got up and carried on, and the score finished at 4-1. But the pain didn't go away. I put that down to either muscular damage or a cracked rib. Over the next few days it seemed to get worse. But the worrying thing was that it felt worse when I was walking. Then last wednesday, I walked my usual 10-15 minutes to the tube, and I was struggling for breath. And it didn't stop when I got on the tube. In fact, I only felt better after I'd been at work for a few minutes.

So it was with a certain sense of trepidation that I set off home that night, and I found the same thing. My chest felt painful, and I was struggling to breath again. It was scary on the tube, as for the first time I can remember I had to sit down. Standing wasn't an option. Anyway - I made it home eventually, and I thought about what to do. I was going to see the GP in the morning, but I checked the NHS direct website to see what they had to say about my symptoms.

The interaction went something like this:

"Chest Pain?" Yes.
"Breathing Difficulties?" Yes.
"Phone 999. Now. We mean it. Now."

Oh dear. That looked serious. I checked it again. Maybe I'd made a mistake.

I hadn't.

I didn't dial 999, but I got a taxi, and off I went to Newham General not knowing what to expect. I think the triage system favours people with my symptoms as I didn't wait long with the usual bunch of nutters you find at night in an A&E department. It didn't take me long to be hooked up to an ECG machine for initial assessment. It got worse when the nurse took more and more readings "just so the doctors can be sure". Oh. My. God. Shit shit shit. What was happening?

After about half hour, I found myself in the resuscitation area. This was beginning to look serious. I was wired up to the heart monitor. Constant observation. Then came the oxygen mask. I really thought this was looking bad at this stage. I talked to some nurses, and to a doctor. They took blood tests. Lots of them. And Chest X Rays. They prodded, listened and talked. And all the time I couldn't begin to imagine what was going on.

After what seemed a life time, the doctor spoke with me. She told me that she thought it was most likely damage to my rib cage. I asked her why I was struggling for breath though. She told me she didn't know. Then she went off to ask the medical registrar.

Bugger. The registrar? Basically she was unsure. After a long while she told me that she'd need to take some more tests, and they moved me from Resus to an area called Clinical Decision Unit. This was better, but it was an area for observation where they collect data to work out if you're ill enough to get admitted. So it was back to the ECG, and back to more blood tests.

And then at 6 in the morning, I was discharged. I was fine. They'd found nothing. My tests apparently were "unremarkable" apart from inverted T waves in AVF whatever that means. But the medical registrar was unconcerned. Thank God. The only thing that they had found was that my blood oxygen level was down, which at least confirmed my breathing difficulties and dizzy episodes. They told me to take it up with my GP.

So - it turns out that my problems were relatively benign. I'd most probably damaged my ribcage which was causing pain, which meant that my breathing was much shallower, causing me to try and breathe more adding to my chest pain. It also transpires I was catching a cold again, so my breathing capacity was much reduced. My GP also told me that rib injuries generally peak in terms of pain 7-10 days after they occur. Whether that's true or not I don't know, but at least I've got nothing to worry about.

Still, in a way it's been a bit of a blessing. I was told once more that my blood pressure is higher than it should be. The nurse in the CDU asked me about it, and I told her I kind of knew about it, but I'd not really done much about it. "Wise move", she muttered as she walked off. She's got a point though. It's about time I got on top of it. Which gives me all the more reason to lose the weight I'd set out to last year. If I need any more motivation than casting my mind back to being in the emergency ward then I don't know what else will persuade me.

At the turn of the year, I really thought it was going to be a good year for me. For a brief moment this January I thought perhaps not. But now - in a strange way I'm more convinced than ever. I'm now looking forward to the rest of the year more than ever.

This isn't really a review of the film as I don't think I'm up to writing a decent film review. What I can say about it though is that it's not often that I watch a film that is as good as the book it's based on. But I do think in this case it's true. It's beautifully shot, and is incredibly moving. The cinematography brings Afghanistan alive just as the prose in the book did before it. The soundtrack is superb. I whole heartedly recommend it.

As I was watching the credits - I was thinking about the comparative value of what I pay for. I paid nearly 12 quid to watch this movie. I paid 10 quid to watch the football yesterday. What was better value I thought? I came to the conclusion that this was a stupid question. They are so far apart in the way that I am entertained.

What appeals to me for the football is complex yet astonishingly simple. Theres a lot of different emotions that a fan will go through especially on a day like yesterday, especially as it was a long journey to an away match. Theres the anticipation, the banter, the excitement, and the chat about the game and past performances on the way up. The sounds and smells of a football match, and the excitement of walking in. The singing. The shouting. The cheering and the inevitable moaning. Then there's the long journey home. But what it really boils down to is spending time with your mates. And hopefully meeting new ones. And if there's some decent football to watch so much the better. And it's difficult to put a price on that. Whcih is why some people will pay a lot of money following their team I think.

The movie was a completely different experience. I'd spent the day with a friend, and after she left, I decided to go see the movie as I want to watch it and I thought rather than try and persuade someone to go with me (which I think is a little bit silly seeing as you're sat in the dark and you can't talk) I'd go and see it on my own. It was once again an emotional experience, far less a visceral one, but a much more engaging intellectual one. Not that I'm saying that this film is intellectual or high brow. My point is that film and football engage with very different parts of me, much as music does as well. Which means I think it's a rather pointless exercise comparing the value of one to the other.

Mind you I'd not hesitate in recommending "The Kite Runner" to anyone. I think I'd struggle to do the same for the Barnsley game next week.

As with a lot of people at the moment, I'm keeping it quite quiet after Christmas. I fancied reading a book when I went to bed the other night but I don't have one to read.

So does anyone have any suggestions? Let me know...

It's been an exciting week being a QPR fan. Just today we've signed 3 new players on permanent contracts, and all of them quality additions to the club. We know they'll be more. Add that to the quality loan signings we have, then the future really does begin to look good. To sum it all up, someone on a QPR mailing list said this:

Today has been like Christmas Day used to be when you were aged 8!.

It really is that good. You don't know whats going to happen next. If someone had said to me at the start of the season that we would be talked of as "the richest club in the world" I'd have said they were bonkers. But it's happened to our club, and we're all so excited about this signing or that signing, rumours of signings, new stadium, whether we can beat Chelsea in the cup. And what's more we've started to play decent football and win matches. Un bloody believable.

But and this is a big but, like other supporters of less fashionable clubs, we all have our reasons for being supporters. For me, I'm never ashamed to say I grew up following Arsenal, but not being from a football family, I never went to a game. My first real experience of watching football was after university when I started going to QPR. And what struck me most about the club was it's identity, and its real feeling of being a proper family club. There's been good times, but in my time there it's been mostly bad. But through it all there's always been that feeling of togetherness around the club and in the ground. I'm sure its a feeling common to a lot of football fans. And we're all scared that this essential part of our club is going to be lost.

And the sad thing is, I do believe it will be lost in the long run. Flavio Briatore, Bernie Ecclestone and Lakshmi Mittal are no fools. They're not in this for the love. They're not going to accept anything less than success. And I believe it will come at a price. And that price can be seen down the road at Chelsea. You see it every time you walk down a street in the country with Chelsea "fans" every where. You see it on the tube on match day with the fans in hats and scarves and flags and all the other paraphernalia of a glory hunting fan. And the more success we see the more we'll see this happen to us. Don't get me wrong. There are plenty of proper Chelsea fans out there. There always will be. But their voices, their identity, their place as the soul of the club has become diminished. And the club becomes villified. It happened to Man U before them. It's going to happen elsewhere in the future.

It doesn't have to happen to us. I don't believe for one moment that Liverpool football club will sell it's soul to the American Dollar. We have no need to lose our club to the seducing smell of our new owners money. Of course we want the investment. Of course we love Gigi De Canio, Bernie and Flavio (and Lakshmi as well now). Of course we want to do well. And win the league (beating Liverpool into second would be nice!). And play in Europe. And play stunning football every week. But we need as a club and fans to stick together and remember why we loved our club through the bad times (and even some good times).

So to all of us out there supporting our club today - let's all hope we can all be proud of the club we love today and fondly remember those days when we were sh*t. And then chuckle as we lift the European cup.

U R'sssss!

I've never seen the Pixies play live. Much to my regret I didn't get around to seeing them when they reformed the last time, especially when I hear how good they were. I think at the time I was being sniffy about not seeing bands that had reformed after splitting up. But if I didn't see them the first time around that hardly makes sense does it? Ho hum.

Anyway - on to the track in question. It's the last song from the second album Doolittle. It's a superb album and there really isn't a bad song on it. For a lot of people, the stand out song on the album has to be "Debaser" which is truly a fantastic song, but for me the highlight has to be "Gouge Away". This song always sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end when ever I hear it. It's the most distilled, stripped down piece of rock I have ever heard. For me, what makes it stand alone is the bass and the drums, played so well by Kim Deal and David Lovering. The sound is taut and on edge. When you add the discordant guitars and singing of Frank Black, the song truly becomes a unique sounding piece of music.

But the most interesting thing about it is that because the production of it is so special, it simply gets better and better the louder you listen to it. You really begin to feel the excitement and dynamism of the band. Power and control. It's because of this I auditioned my hifi on it last time I went shopping. I remember the poor assistant's pained expression as I put it up louder and louder. It's not that he didn't understand, I just don't think he liked the music. It takes some seriously good equipment to bring this song out perfectly. I once played this on my flat mates set up. He had the biggest bass bin imaginable. But it wasn't hifi (the bloke in the shop told him that at the time as I recall). When turned up to "11", it really really lost the plot. It was loud, but the whole emotion of the song was lost.

I'll audition hifi with it again. And then one day, I'll be able to live in a house where I can play this as loud as it's meant to be played.

I found myself in Lewisham the other day, and I caught the DLR to Stratford on my way home. Perhaps it was because I was in a really good mood, but as I sat on the train, I started musing on London and what a really quite fabulous place it is. It was the diversity of the place that really struck me as a one of the special things about the city. Take the DLR route that I took. Starting off from Lewisham, the train heads north through Deptford, then onto picturesque Greenwich. From then it travels up to the Isle of Dogs, and through the striking modernity of the architecture of the homes and offices there. As the train moves out from Canary Wharf, it heads in to Poplar, which is a proper slice of East End life still thriving in the shadow of Global commerce just as it always has. I nearly stopped off in Chrisp Street market to wander about, but I realised that was just an excuse to get some Pie and Mash. So I carried on up through Bow and on towards Stratford, where I saw the already impressive earth works for the Olympics. And finally I got off at Stratford itself, which is surely heading for great things as a result of those same Olympics.

As I went to catch my bus home, I bought a paper and I read this article. Basically it said that London for a number of reasons is the best city in the world.

And I found myself agreeing. I often joke that I'm not the most travelled person in the world as I let the world come to me here in London. And when I considered this that morning, I don't think it's that far from the truth. But it's not just the diversity of the people, but it's the sheer diversity of the places, the environments and the communities that strikes me. Just look at the list of places that a typical Londoner (ie me) has been to in the last few weeks.

East Ham
Chinatown
Islington
Shepherds Bush
Covent Carden
Woolwich
Richmond
South Bank
Crystal Palace
Epping Forest
Dalston
Hammersmith
Hoxton

You may know all of these places, or only some. But if you know any, have a think about them for a moment. And think about how different they all are to each other. Thats what I'm amazed about. All of this on my doorstep in a relatively small area. And it's not just the areas of London, it's also about the sheer number of things to do, the parks, the cafes, restaurants, pubs, clubs, sporting arenas, museums, galleries, shopping, and business. And all of them are world class. Its unbelievable that there's so much and all so accessible with a very flexible public transport system.

But we all have our gripes about London. Even if we don't live there. There's the crime, the traffic, the cost and even the little things like the crowds and the times when our tube is delayed. But I do really think it's a small price to pay to live in one of the greatest cities in the world.

So, is London truly the capital of the world? I don't know. I haven't visited nearly enough other cities to know. But I do know that when you sit down and think about it, it takes your breath away.

I've been thinking about doing a little thing once a week on a single track that I've been listening to during the previous week, why I like it and what (if anything) it means to me. It seems appropriate therefore to kick off with this one.

You may have heard about this one. Malcolm Middleton is one half of the much missed Arab Strap. His solo career is one that I have followed, and in many ways has overtaken my love of Arab Strap's Material. Anyway - he's decided to see if he can get the Christmas Number one to try and take back the slot for real music.

Taken from his last album, Malcolm says its actually a cheerful song (and for him I suppose it is). It's about, er, well in Malcolm's own words:

"I wrote ‘We’re All Going to Die’ to comfort someone, but I kind of failed. It is saying we’re all in the same boat. It’s going to happen to all of us, so we have to make sure that we do the best we can in our life, so that when we die that we can handle it."

Anyway - it's a splendid idea. Buy the single. Take back the charts.

http://www.wereallgoingtodie.co.uk/

I was going to write a little diatribe about what I can't stand about Christmas. On the grounds I can't stand all the nonsense and the commercialism. And the hassle. The tinsel. The secret santas. Piped Christmas Carols. Pissed office workers in Santa Hats. Slade. The endless supplies of bad food in the office. And the shopping. Especially the shopping. And..

...and then I had the strangest feeling. I realised despite all of this crap there really is a lot about the season that I love. For instance I'm not going to pretend to anyone that I love the shopping. I despise it. But oddly enough yesterday through the evil that is Christmas shopping, I spoke to my brother, my mum, my dad and my sister in law. All in one day. And the only other day that's likely to happen is on Christmas Day itself.

And between now and then, I'm going to have met up with, written to or emailed some wonderful friends in this country and around the world. Some I haven't seen for quite some time. Some of them are only in the UK for a short visit. And all because of Christmas.

I'm not a religious man. But there is something special about this time of year for most people. And I recall one year telling my Mum I'd want to spend it at home on my own having a quiet one. This year? Despite my grumblings, moans and general grouchiness (or even Grinchiness) I think I wouldn't have it any other way than what I'm doing this year. I think it's good to remember how lucky we are to have loving friends and family around us.

Then again, all this love and joy might just be down to the fact I've finished my Christmas shopping...

I've been bugging some of my friends this week with a bit of a puzzler that's been bothering me lately. It's a question I've been asked a few times by different women* over the last 2 or 3 months. And because the question is the same, but that it comes from different people and in different circumstances, it got me to thinking why I'm being asked the same question.

The question in (ahem) question? "How come you're still single?"

OK. That's a simple question. But I find I have great difficulty answering it. I think the first thing that I find tricky is whether the question itself is a good or a bad question to be asked. I mean, it could be interpreted as something like "Wow. You're pretty amazing. I'm actually staggered that a man like you hasn't been snapped up. What is wrong with the women in the world?". And that of course would be good. On the other hand it could be interpreted as something like "Wow. You're pretty weird. I'm actually staggered that you haven't found a woman yet. What in the world is wrong with you?"

The fact of the matter is I couldn't quite work out all by myself, so off I went to my friends and asked them a very simple question about this. My question was this:

"If a woman asks me 'How come you're still single?', is this on the whole a good or a bad thing?". No context. No names mentioned to protect the innocent. That's all they had to work with.

And the results were pretty interesting. I asked men and women. And all of them said pretty much that the question was on the whole a positive one. However each and every person I have asked has then followed it up by asking me why I was still single. Oh dear. This was getting complicated now. All I wanted to know was if it were a good or a bad thing, not to have the same question back from a few more people.

Which brings us back to the same question. If on the whole it's a postive question, then thats a good start. But that doesn't help me in answering the damn thing. And what do I mean "on the whole" it's a positive question? What are the negative aspects? And are they the root of me having difficulty with the question in the first place? And why's everyone interested in why I'm single? And why the bloody hell am I that bothered I'm writing it on my blog?

Back to the question. What are the potential negative aspects? Whilst I don't think that anyone sees being single as in itself a bad thing, it would appear that remaining single for some time (short term interludes excluded for the sake of this discussion) has potential for raising perhaps a question or two. Does this person actually want to be in a relationship? If not? Why not? If they do, how come they're not actually in one and haven't been in one for a while? What are they doing (or not doing) to find themselves in a relationship?

Wow. That's some pretty heavy stuff there. So I thought I'd meditate on it, which for me is a brisk walk through the woods, and I had a good think about why this question is difficult and what my friends have told me and what I've learnt about myself.

So here goes. Do I want to be in a relationship? Yes. That was easy, but I don't think it's actually occurred to me to say something like that to myself. And I think without saying that to yourself then unless all women are mind readers (and God knows I wish they were) then it's going to be a little tricky to find me the right woman. But I looked back over the past 2 or 3 years, and I think it's fair to say that I haven't always wanted to be in a relationship during that time. In fact, I think rushing in to one or two when I wasn't ready put me off. At what point that situation changed I don't think I know. But it has changed. I'm ready now but what is clear to me is that without recognising exactly what it is I'm looking for, then simply hoping for something to happen is somewhat of a silly thing to be doing.

As I was walking yesterday, some quite simple things came together in my mind. I know what I want. I've known what I've wanted for years. I thought I found it once. But it didn't work out. That doesn't mean you stop trying. It means you try harder the next time. That doesn't mean that you settle for second best. I'm not going to waste mine or anyone else's time being in a relationship that I don't think has some kind of future. Which is great, but when you consider that for two people to find "the one" for them is still fairly difficult, then obviously you've got to make efforts to try and find one another. Or at the very least be a little bit more upfront about what (and who) you want. In fact, thinking about this now, this seems to be a fairly common complaint about men from women. A lot of us men just need to be a bit bolder I think. And, well, stop writing about it on a blog and get out there and find that woman.

So, what will I answer next time I'm asked the question? "I'm still single because I can't answer this damn question". That should sort it.

* This doesn't include my Mum, who asks pretty much the same question whenever I see her, although it usually asked in a way that only a Mother can ask her son

I've got a weird relationship with My Life Story. In my record collection I only own one single of theirs. Its the King of Kissingdom. And I don't like that too much if I'm being honest. But I love the B-Side to this single, "I love you like Gala". They were always one of those bands that somehow got forgotten on my record buying trips. I don't know why. But I've not forgotten them - they were a memorable live act.

So I think this is the third time I've seen them. With probably a 10ish year gap since the last time. And things have changed since then. For them, for me and for every one of their fans. We've all grown up - jobs, kids, mortgages etc. But what did we like about them at the time? Well it helps to know a little about the band. They were (and are) a big band. A string quartet, a brass section and guitars, keyboards and drums. And the irrepressible Jake Shillingford leading (and writing) it all. Whatever they did - they did it big. They split in 2000, and pretty much were forgotten about by most people but were fondly remembered by those who saw them in the mid 90s when it really looked like they might just conquer the world.

Last year they had a reunion tour and I missed out, so I was grateful to get the tickets for tonight. Trouble is I forgot to enthuse anyone else about them, so didn't find anyone else to come with me, so feeling pretty tired and frankly not that enthusiastic, I arrived in the bush just in time for Jake doing some of his post MLS solo stuff. And it was all very low key. And dull. I don't think I was alone in that thought. What applause there was was of the polite variety.

So - that was done with, and the band arrived. And something really wasn't working for me from the outset. It took me a while to figure it out. But the sound was so muddled where I was I couldn't really make out much of what makes the band such a joy to listen to. I couldn't hear the strings. And I'm listening to them as I type this and loving them far more than I did when they were playing live which is quite sad. But I heard the lyrics. I forgot how poor some of them were "She’s down on her make-up, She’s a storm in a C cup" and the aforementioned King of Kissingdom. Oh well. Just forget the lyrics. They are that awful.

At one point Jake looked out to the adoring crowd and said "This is the sound of maturity". And I think I understood what that meant. This was music of its time. The opportunity was missed. Move on. Nothing to see. At some stage in all our lives, this music was a bit special. A bit of a well kept secret. But somehow 10 years later it seemed to me a bit desperate. Jake seemed to try too hard. Some of the crowd seemed to try too hard to remember it all how it was and went a little too crazy. Still, there was time for two well received encores.

Or maybe it's me. Maybe I just wasn't in the right mood. But there ultimately was nothing in the performance that really drew me in. I hope that really isn't the sound of maturity.

Footnote: I haven't listened to "I love you like Gala" for a few years. It's playing now. For the record I still love this song. How I wish they'd played it tonight.

After the previous night's shenanigans a more laid back gig was in order, so off I went to the relaxed congeniality of this small Jazz club on the Kingsland High Street. I'd never been there before. And to be honest I don't go to a lot of Jazz clubs either. So I was expecting it to be cool. Little did I know how cool it would be. Practically Baltic. They seemed to have a problem with the air conditioning, so it was that we all were sitting around in hats coats and scarves.

Now, you may have never heard of the hKippers. Nor had I. I was told that one of the members was in Holby City. Which is nice for him, but I've never seen it so as far as I was concerned he may as well have been a fisherman from Cleethorpes. But it turns out I did know who he was. His name is Paul Bradley. You (and I) will know him as Nigel from Eastenders. But that's actually unimportant.

So who are the hKippers? They describe themselves as progressive folk. Erm. Ok. Not familiar with the folk establishment, but progressive I guess means that I'm going to see some new, maybe experimental stuff right? Well. Yes. You may have never seen anyone play sellotape. Or gaffer tape. But you can if you see the hKippers. And my goodness it works. You'll have to trust me on this.

A lot of the material that the band have is frankly indescribable. It really is quite unique. So I'll try and describe them as a band. They're an 8 piece. Most of the band do vocals, but there's a drummer, a brass section, clarinets (1 or 2 ), a piano, a piccolo, an accordion, a bass and a guitar. And other instruments that take their fancy. And anything will do for an instrument.

Given the comedy and conviviality in the band, you'd be forgiven for thinking they're a bit amateurish at first sight. But they are far far far from that. Oh my goodness. These guys can play. And that's no surprise. One of them plays with the Pogues. One has an Oscar for his musical talent. One's a talented producer. Another's performed with Symphony orchestras. I'm sure they've all done lots lots more. But that's not the point. The point is the performance. And these guys give it their all. And love every second of it.

So what makes it? Well, watchng them tonight I really did have the thought that clearly Bradley isn't the musical one, but like a great front man he holds it all together and adds a touch of genius to it all. Without him you'd hear a band that can play great music. With him you see a band play great music, and you laugh as smile as you do. It doesn't take away from the music, rather it adds to the whole thing. And please don't get me wrong. Paul loves his music clearly and I'm sure his friends in the band wouldn't put up with crap either if he was awful. But I think he brings something that's unique to him. And that's what makes it all work. Each and every member has something to bring. Personalities are brought to the fore. But the music is always, always king.

As to the Progressive folk thing? Well there's obviously folk there, but there's also a lot of trad jazz in there too. And the highlights of the gig are when the band play as only a bunch of friends can play (much as the Arctic Monkeys showed the day before). If you've ever seen New Order play when Bernard Sumner and Hookie weren't getting along you'll know what I mean. So it was good that the venue was so compact and the sound was good. They got the audience going and we all loved them. I will definitely go see them again given the opportunity.

One final thought - I love seeing bands in small venues. I was particularly touched by Paul shaking my hand and saying thank you for me being there as I left. Wow. Imagine if that happened at every gig you went to.

PS - If you want to spread the word about the hKippers then please remember the 'h' is silent. Don't make a fool of yourself when you ask for their album in HMV and pronounce the 'h'. That would be embarassing.

I didn't quite make it to see the Monkeys at Glastonbury. The trouble was that they were playing on the Pyramid, and what with my aversion to big venues (and they don't come much bigger than the Pyramid really) together with the reports of the poor sound I went elsewhere. Probably with a bottle or 2 of wine. But that's a different story.

But somehow I ended up on a wet Saturday evening tramping up the hill to Alexandra palace to see a band I really don't know much about. Which is quite a feat really considering that they're so popular. I really didn't set out not to listen to them, I just haven't OK? Mind you I do particularly enjoy the looks on my gig going friends when I ask what song is playing when they're on. How could I not know that?

So first things first. The venue. Like I said I don't like big venues so I have never been. I didn't go to Arcade Fire because I didn't fancy the venue. But you know what? I actually think its pretty good. It didn't feel like it was a big gig at all. There was plenty of room where we were, and we were quite close to the band. The sound was good and the beer wasn't a problem to get. In fact (don't tell anyone this) but it was an altogether more civilised experience than most gig venues. So chalk that one up as an unexpectedly happy experience.

So on to the gig. Well, I turned round to one of my companions and commented that it was an experience more akin to a football match than a gig. Which is really down to the band, the music and the fans that love it. Now, obviously I'm a football fan as well, so I should be happy right? Not entirely. You see, football songs are football songs for a reason. They're easy to sing, and they cater to our basest instincts to sing and chant together. Which is fine if thats what you want to do. Which I generally don't when I go to a gig, but am more than happy to at football. But that's just me. In particular (and I think I'm going to sound like a middle aged gig goer here but there you go) the songs did in fact sound much the same. Now, "I bet you look good on the dance floor" is a great tune. I'll even admit to that. But the essential pattern of this song was repeated over and over again. And I just don't dig the vocalist's voice enough to get into the brand of chav rock he was delivering.

But it's not that I hated the gig - far from it. I loved the music when the band just played and got on with making music. What made it work was seeing them play together as mates having a laugh, but really really doing the business. Fantastic. But then front man would sing and ruin it for me.

In fairness, I appeared to be the only one (well one of the lads with me sort of agreed) who found this to be the case, but I just couldn't connect with the band or the kids who love them, I couldn't connect with their music, their language, their clothes, their style or much else.

Still, all the football singing got the better of all of us, as we wended our way back down the hill. In the excitement, people started singing "there's only one Ricky Hatton" and so we decided that seeing the fight was the thing to do. Thank god we'd all come to our senses by the bottom of the hill. I was sound asleep as the Hitman took a sound beating.

I think that this site may well be the first Italian QPR fan site. Good work fella. And I was kind of thinking of saying that in Italian. But luckily I remembered Babelfish is pony. So I didn't bother.

So I rather boldy set and made public my goal. I thought it was about time for an update. So how have I done? Well, the good news is that I have lost weight. And apparently it shows as a friend of mine did say I looked skinny the other night (bless you, you know who you are!). And I'm ahead of my schedule. Which is great.

On the other hand - I haven't been quite as good as I'd set out to be. I've had a few beers. But not quite as many. And I've had crisps. But a lot less. And there's been other times where I've just caved in, like the day we decided we'd all cook some nice food for work. I of course didn't cook healthy stuff (and rather unexpectedly realised that cooking tasty buttery biscuits is splendidly easy). And nor did anyone else. But I have been eating and drinking a lot better on the whole and I have lost some weight. Trouble is, we all know that I'd be expecting to lose more at the start and less at the end. Which probably means I can't be complacent. Which probably means that those roast potatoes I cooked on Sunday need to be the last for a little while.

So how much more do I need to lose to meet my target? 30 of your English pounds. Will I make my target? Place your bets...

I got one of those Royal Mail "sorry we missed you" things through the post on Friday. I got a bit excited then remembered I'd bought those Archie Bronson Outfit tickets. So I thought. But when I got to the post office I opened the envelope and discovered it was Emmy the Great. Now I knew that she was playing tonight. And I knew there was a QPR home game against Coventry. I hadn't planned on going. So I'm only guessing I must have been pissed when I booked them. Dammit.

So - after I picked up the tickets off I went to football to see us win 2 nil against Hull. We were so excited about it I huffed and I puffed about whether to go to the coventry game. I decided eventually not to. But when I discussed this with a hammers fan and a music fan at work he couldn't understand. I explained I had tickets for Palace on Saturday and that 3 times in a week to see my team play might be a bit excessive. It didn't compute with him. Not one bit.

I digress. I went to the gig. I arrived early. And I so regret doing so. Last time I say Emmy the Great play it was at the Boardwalk. I went on my own but that wasn't a problem. I got there for all the support acts, and frankly it all seemed very friendly and close. Everyone on stage knew each other. And Emmy played up to it all very well. Her between song chit chat just added to the warmth of the whole gig. Even her mum turned up.

But tonight, was not so great. I'm not going to waste too much time with the support acts. Other than the first band was tedious and frankly forgettable. And the second, well at least they had balls. Which was strange for a band of women. But not enough for me. I fantasised about Polly Harvey jumping on the stage and socking the lead singers jaw and showing her how it should be done.

So anyway on to the main act. But no we weren't. Where was she? Someone else came on who wasn't bad to be fair. But by now it was coming up 10. And my friend needed to get home at some point. And we were all getting impatient, so when Emmy did actually show up I and my friend (and I suspect a reasonable number of the audience) were a little fed up. And then she announced that she'd have to play a shorter set.

Now - don't get me wrong. I love Emmy. A lot. But come on girl. I payed for my ticket. At least show up on time.

So she started playing, and I'm not sure if it was me being jaded or not, but she seemed just a little tired. And maybe a bit fed up with the material. I don't know. Because there was nothing obviously wrong with the performance by her or her band. She sang well. She played well. The band sang and played well. But the atmosphere was so so flat. But this is a woman who's talent can really cut through this sort of problem, and at times she did. I quite lost myself in the magic of her voice and her song writing at times. And what magic she weaves. I was first attracted to the sheer beauty of her music and her voice, but there's a deeper acerbic note to a some of her songs:

"They pulled a human from my waist, it had your mouth, it had your face, I would have kept it if I'd stayed."

This caught me quite off guard. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. And then. And then... it was time to go. I missed the encore. I hope it was good. I want to see Emmy again. I hope it's better. Because even on a poor night she's pretty good. Which is quite an act to pull off.

Oh and in case you were wondering. QPR lost tonight 1-2 against Coventry to a last minute goal. We'll win at Palace. For sure.

I made the short trip over to Chartlon today and boy was it worth it. Harford picked an unchanged team from the one that drew at Preston, which I like. The early stages of the match were largely dominated by Charlton, but the defence stood up well. Barker had a good game for his standards, but it's clear he's not in the same league as Cranie and Mancienne. What a pity they're loan signings and not permanent fixtures. Stewart had a poor first half, but he did constantly seem to take every opportunity to be stretching. I suspect that this may well have been hindering him.

The first half ended 0-0 which was fair enough, but Charlton shaded it. However, the story was much much different in the second half. The team played in a manner that seemed at odds with our position at the bottom of the league. A real passing game was being played, with Vine and Ephraim (loan signings again, *sigh*) combining well to cause constant problems to the Charlton defence that's clearly lacking in confidence. Leigertwood continues to impress, and had a great chance that he put wide. But that's not the key part of his game. Together with Bolder, we're starting to see a midfield that's beginning to win the ball from the oppostion regularly and then play the ball on the floor. When there's talent like Vine up front that often means that chances will be created. And that's what happened when he was brought down in the box for a penalty. Rowly stepped up and struck it low to Weaver's left, but the ball rebounded off the post. "That's why you're going down" the home support piped up. Which was unusual because we'd not heard much from them all game.

Rangers continued to press forward and the goal arrived in the 72nd minute, with Bolder taking advantage of Weaver being tangled up with Nygaard. We went wild. Could we really do this? "That's why we're staying up" we taunted the stunned home support. Speaking of Nygaard, he had a good game. I'm really beginning to take him to heart. He may not be the best technical player, but he always produces the goods. And a special mention for Stewart's near goal off a corner, when he nearly backheeled it in to the Charlton goal. Simply superb. Time and time again Rangers swept forward. Passing and moving. "It's just like watching Brazil" we sang. And for us it was. How long has it been since we've seen such a solid performance from our team? Every man played their part. Camp in particular did well once again making some fantastic saves. Even the fans (about 2000 of us) played our part. Some fantastic singing and banter. "Can you hear the Strawberry sing?" being a memorable one.

So we counted down the minutes until our moment arrived. Our first away win since April. Fantastic. Bottom of the league? You're having a laugh. We're on our way out of the mess. And not a moment too soon.

It's a bit of an obsession of mine at the moment, listening to Bombshell, but what the hell. It's my blog and I can do with it whatever I like (apparently not - I can't libel of slander someone, or commit any criminal offence online but I'm just being pedantic now).

Anyway, back on the subject. Lyrics are important to me when I listen to music. Often they can just be filler, but I really think it enhances the music when the words are as beautiful as the music itself. The words to "And the Racket they Made" by King Creosote are I think words of real beauty. Poetry. For me at least. You decide for yourself.


And your words chased round and round in my head last night
they chased their own tails
and your words jigged round my mind all night
to look at me now I'm quiet as sand
and the tide shrinks back into it's womb
and I hope the empty shells and bones of your stories
will litter and clutter the shore
and I hope that when I find them
I'll remember how they danced
and the racket they made
when they were alive

(c) King Creosote 2007

It's been a bit of a good weekend all told. Friday was spent with the boys playing poker, and I only sulked a little bit as I parted company with 40 quid. I obviously played well but the cards were against me. Honestly.

And then on the Saturday I went to an old university friend's wedding. I have to admit I wasn't really looking forward to it. I was going on my own, and I only knew the bride and the groom. And I was going to miss a home game against Ipswich, and also (shock horror) the rugby final. But, as with most things, the reality was much better than I hoped. I had a great time and met lots of nice people. Most of them married (sigh) but you can't have everything. The venue was also amazing. It made me want to take up golf.

As for sunday, I thought I'd take a different walk instead of the usual one, so I went to see how long it would take me to walk to Charlton. And I actually enjoyed the walk. I walked under the thames through the Woolwich tunnel, although it's actually quicker to take the ferry. But it was a lovely day and I'm glad I got out. But the really interesting thing is that doing this blogging and walking has reminded me how much I enjoy photography, so I'm going to get a new camera at some point (or dust off my old film slr). My current digital camera's broken, but I'm feeling the need to take some photos. I've put a couple from woolwich in my photos section.

I ended up getting to Greenwich, so I popped into Chris's new place there. And they kindly fed me Roast Lamb. And then I had the most amazing surprise. I had peas with my dinner. And they were tasty. I had seconds. For anyone who knows me there's not much I don't like, but nuts and peas are the things I don't like. Until now.

So what's the magic? Well, the secret is to cook them with Leeks. Butter. Leeks. Fry. Add frozen peas. No water. Cook. Serve. Watch Rob go back for seconds. Be amazed. I know my family will.