roblog

Nothing can stop this creeping fear.

roblogadmin — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 03:21:00 +0100

"You're just far too pessimistic", I was recently told.

I nearly choked on my wine. Naturally, I protested my innocence. Something about being a realist. A pragmatist. How I was only making reference to the facts as I saw them. And the facts undeniably painted a less than rosy picture. It simply wasn't fair to be portrayed as a pessimist.

But how come I've spent the last couple of months being anything other than optimistic? OK - getting mugged isn't going to make me any happier. And my mortgage going up isn't a cause for celebration. Being ripped off by cowboys who claimed to know what they're doing in a garden wasn't great. Credit crunch. Falling prices. Markets down. And the cracks were beginning to show. Quite literally in my case. I'd just finished correcting the buffoonery of my garden contractors, and was relaxing in my nice new garden. I glanced up at the back of the house. It had been quite a while since I'd done this, largely on the grounds that I wasn't actually able to get into the garden to do so, such was the neglect. But as I gazed up there it was. Was that there before? I had a vague recollection that something was mentioned in my survey when I bought the house.

Upstairs in my bedroom I checked the report from three years ago. Some cracking was apparent, it told me, but these appeared to be fairly old, so were of no cause for concern. Now, it didn't concern me at the time, as I bought the house. But I went back down and had another look. Had it deterioated? I wasn't sure. I remember that I needed to think about getting some repointing done, so I added this to the list of things I wanted to sort out. It's a long list, but never mind. Just another job.

But things are never that simple. Oh no. Not here they're not. Especially at 6am on my way out of the door with too little sleep. I was on my way to France. If this wasn't a cause for optimism I don't know what is. My bag was packed and I was off on a mini adventure in the Alps. Sweet. I locked the door and turned my back then spun around on my heels. What was that? A crack? Was that there before? I had no time to think about it. I had a train to catch. So I left, with the image in my mind.

How pessimistic can I be? It turns out that my pessimism, left unchecked, can go off on a mini adventure of it's own. A tiny crack, that may or may not have been there before, became in my fevered imagination a gaping hole - a chasm of such magnitude that it quite possibly was the gateway to hell itself. OK - I exaggerate there, but it wasn't that far off. As I walked up my road on my return, I was relieved to find my house still standing.

I spent the day looking for a surveyor. What would he tell me? I even looked to see how much I could borrow to shore up the collapsing remains of my house. It became too much. I logged off, picked up the phone and did what every pessimist does in times of peril. I dialled my mum's number. It wasn't long before I was in the bosom of my family. I needed to talk about this. Get my head straight. Get a plan and work out what to do. I was tired and worried. Worried about how much I was worrying. Worried about how serious things had got. I needed some comfort. Some words of advice, a guiding hand and words of wisdom.

"You're just far too pessimistic", wasn't exactly what I was looking for.

Less than a week later, my house was examined quite carefully by a surveyor. He poked about. He asked me questions. In truth, I think he padded out his inspection on the grounds it might have been embarrasing to charge me the full fee for telling me that I really had nothing to worry about. He told me that there really was no evidence of any recent activity. Buildings don't just stand for decades then fall down. He took a few photos and made some notes. I gave him his cheque, and he said he'd send me his report. He'd probably have to pad that out a bit as well. After all, it would probably say something along the lines of "You're just far too pessimistic".

On the bus home tonight, I was re-reading "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance". A particular passage resonated with me. Referring to his friends who were with him on a road trip, he writes how they were not enjoying themselves due to the heat on the road, and how it clouded their outlook. He writes:

"All day while I've been thinking and talking about Phaedrus they must have been thinking about how bad all this is. That's what's really wearing them down. The thought."

Have I learnt my lesson? Time will tell. All I can say is that I'm optimistic about it.

Gig review - Radiohead - Victoria Park - 24th June 2008

roblogadmin — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 01:46:00 +0100

Bromley-by-Bow station is an odd place to find yourself at a quarter to twelve half scared out of your wits but at the same time glad to be there, and even more so glad of the company of fellow gig goers who turn up five minutes later on the once deserted platform.

"Well that was shit", said the guy who turned up. Despite my best attempts at looking like I'd not been to the Radiohead gig and got a bit lost on the way home, just like him and his friends, he'd clocked me. A fellow indie "kid" at the wrong end of town. I have to say I was a bit disappointed that he'd figured out I wasn't a local. But I gave myself a quick once over and it was a bit obvious to be honest. Khaki isn't exactly a street look around these parts.

"I quite liked it", I gamely replied. I didn't want to admit I was glad of the company. Someone like me. Fuck. Life's changed. Tonight of all nights. What a time to realise. Even as I'm listening to "Reckoner" as I write this, it's obvious that I'm a stranger in a strange town. It's not going to change, not now.

"They didn't play any hits", came the reply from my new found companion. OK, it wasn't an MTV tribute that's for sure. I didn't even know the last song they played if I'm being honest. But they did play "Reckoner", which was fantastic. I love the song, the way it grabs me and soothes me and scares me all at once. It's a song that seems to speak to me in a way that I can't describe, but I know for sure I'm not the only one who feels the textures, the longing, the feeling of something missed. I looked around me. I recognised the look in their eyes as I looked at the crowd around me.

"That's why you love them". I'm not sure if that was profound or just me being an arse. But I followed it up with an impressive sounding insight: "I bet you've seen them before. I bet you were surprised then. Perhaps they played all the hits. Perhaps they didn't. But what surprised you most was that they played it by their own rules". I paused. Just to take in my own magnificence. But then I remembered where I was. Just a drunk white bloke on a tube sounding like a twat. Just to be sure I looked around the tube. No one was listening or at least they were polite enough to pretend that they weren't.

"My little lad wanted to come", said the guy who I had just worked out looked a bit like Justin Lee Collins off of the Friday Night Project. Only he had shorter hair and was a bit more pissed on a tube than any media savvy celebrity would ever be.

"How old is he?", I asked. "Eight". There was a pause. I was half expecting him to say "and a quarter". But he told me he had two younger girls after I asked him why he didn't bring the lad along. But it was clear that something wasn't right. I didn't feel right. I'm not sure he did either, but for two very different reasons.

His life had changed in a tangible way. He told me how he was gutted that they were the only band who could get away with what they did tonight. What he meant was that every night out, let alone a 50 quid one, is something to be cherished. He knew his music as it turned out. Perhaps he can't afford the time to listen to something new or challenging anymore. But that's what we both agreed was the reason why we went. We had no idea what they might do. A stadium act, a global phenomenon, at once the most personal thing in the world to all who came, and at the same time, if they let us, a karaoke soundtrack for the varied lives that we all lead.

I reflected on the night. I'd spent it with friends. I'd had a good time and I'd left to go home. In my usual foolish way I went home without planning where I was going. Hackney isn't the best place to get lost in at night. I knew that, but tonight I knew my life has changed. No longer the innocent, I walked along Roman Road trying not to look as scared as I was. I knew it was written all over me. I've never felt that way before and I hated it.

"I can't listen to Kid A", said the man as we approached East Ham. "Nor can I," I replied, adding "one day, I'm sure I will.". It came on tonight as I put the stereo on. I couldn't listen to it. Too much for me. I wanted comfort and familiarity. I put "In Rainbows" on instead. I felt better as I listened to it.

There's not a band on earth who can evoke such a range of emotions from all who listen. Love. Hate. Sadness. Joy. Pain and pleasure. It's all there. It was there at Victoria Park and never mind what my travelling companion thought about the set list, he knew, as did all of us who went, that what we saw and heard tonight was a thing of frail, flawed beauty; a living work of art in these, our troubled times.

Gig Review - Stag & Dagger - Shoreditch - 15th May 2008

roblogadmin — Wed, 21 May 2008 00:08:00 +0100

Stag and Dagger is a Camden Crawl for the East End. With more galleries. Sort of.

OK, OK, I admit it. I didn't actually see much of it. I could make excuses, but it largely boiled down to being lazy. So out of the 15 odd venues covering all sorts of genres of music and the arts, how many did I visit? Erm... two. And one of them only briefly. But I was scarred last year by the Camden Crawl. Yes, it was in Camden. And we crawled from one venue to the other trying to get in. We couldn't. And it was crap. So, I tried a whole new methodology with Stag and Dagger. I looked at the venue list and I pretty much didn't know any bands on the list apart from two. So, trying to sound knowledgeable, I picked one of the venues with a band that I recognised, and off me and a friend toddled.

We ended up in the Macbeth. From the moment we walked in it was inevitable we weren't leaving. Bar? Check. Music? Check. Sofa? There was a sofa. It was unoccupied. Not for long. Drinks bought, we settled down to listen to the music. And you know what? I don't regret for one moment not moving much from that sofa.

First up (for us at least) were Dead Kids. I'm not sure if I've seen a band so hardcore as this, stuffed into such a tiny stage in a packed pub. The front man, was a nutter. Demonic but intelligent, with the intensity of Henry Rollins. There was a great point in the set when he jumped on the stage and cajoled the crowd. Then tried to pour himself a drink as if the barman was distracted by the mayhem. He wasn't. A tug of war started over a frothy pint of stella. The barman relented, and the singer smiled. I'm going to check this band out again.

A word on the venue. It was a pub. With lots of people in. The toilets were at the opposite end of the pub by the stage. There were lots of people between the sofa and the toilet. Most were lovely. One wasn't. I don't often come across someone I'd describe as pompous, sanctimonious and jumped up in the middle of a crowd at a gig. But there I was being lectured about how I should get through an over full venue by someone who's day job is obviously a housing officer in a South London council. I thanked him for his advice. It was the least I could do.

Next up were Example. Hip hop. Sort of. To tell the truth, I'm not that much of a fan. But the crowd seemed to dig them. Best I can say is check their myspace page. Anyway, I was pleased when the next band came on. Operator Please changed the pace from Example. In such a small venue, with such an excitable crowd, they seemed to know what to do. They had fun. The crowd had fun. But there's not much more to say about them that I haven't already said about this band in previous entries.

Last up were The Mike Strutter Group. By the time they'd started, then I have to say that sofa had become just too comfortable. I was having a good time, just not really paying much attention to the music. It started, then it stopped. I don't remember it being bad. But I don't have a clear recollection of it either. I blame the lager. Mind you, I always blame the lager.

So there it was. 15 venues. I saw two. It was all good though. I'd heard stories similar to the Camden Crawl about the crowds. I think I got the right idea though. Stick in one venue. Go along with some great company. Make sure there's a sofa. And then stay there. I know it defeats the whole object of these type of events, but maybe, just maybe, they don't actually work too well.

Still, I had a good time. Topped off by a fantastic Brick Lane salt beef bagel. Yum yum

http://www.myspace.com/youaredeadkids
http://www.myspace.com/leadingbyexample
http://www.myspace.com/operatorplease
http://www.myspace.com/mikestrutter

Gig Review - Lightspeed Champion - Koko - 6th May 2008

roblogadmin — Tue, 20 May 2008 23:16:00 +0100

There are times when I really truly wonder why I bother buying tickets to see gigs. This was one of them. When I booked these tickets I'd read something nice about Lightspeed Champion, probably in an NME. They were raving about him. And what with him being involved with the now defunct Test Icicles, how could I resist?

Quite apart from the fact I'd never heard the Test Icicles, and therefore had absolutely no idea what I was letting myself in for, I'd completely forgotten to check the diary and missed that it was immediately after a bank holiday weekend. Now, that's not so bad, all things considered. I'd spent the previous day on a nice walk in the sunshine. I was so enthused about the sunshine I called my mate to enjoy it with me. So we had a beer to celebrate. Thing is, it was really sunny, so we really celebrated long into the night.

I wasn't much for celebrating the next day. I looked at the tickets at work, not enthusiastic. I struck on a good idea. I'm sure I mentioned these tickets to my pal. I emailed him and asked him if he wanted them. "Sure", he replied, "what time shall we meet?".

Bugger. Wasn't getting out of this was I? So, reluctantly, off I headed to Camden. It wasn't so bad, the sun was still shining and I enjoyed my walk through the park. In Camden, I nearly crashed into a strange looking fellow with a tremendous looking hat. Quite out of the ordinary, even for Camden. The oddest thing was I was sure I recognised the chap. Couldn't quite put my finger on it though.

After a quick pint in the tup, we headed off to the venue. I like Koko. It's improved a lot since the old Palace days. At least your feet don't stick to the carpet anymore. Well, to be fair, they wisely took the carpet up and replaced it with shiny wooden floors. But it's a great venue.

It was also loud. Or more to the point, the first band were. Bloody, gratingly, annoyingly loud. And quite honestly awful. And I'm glad I saw them as a support act, because I nearly bought a ticket to see them top of the bill once to see what the fuss was about. Ox. Eagle. Lion. Man. are not my cup of tea. My mate pointed out that their words were probably quite poetic and meaningful. It's just that you can't bear to listen to them because the music really doesn't encourage you to try.

I was pleasantly surprised to see the next band get on stage. It was Operator Please. I'd seen them earlier in the year in Wimbledon. And they played pretty much the same set tonight. I thought that they're beginning to find their feet in the UK, as they sounded tighter, more focussed and, well, way more fun than they did in Wimbledon. I really think they're going to peak during the festivals, so if you get a chance, go see them.

As Operator Please left the stage, I could honestly say that I could have gone home happy, but the main event was to come. After a short while, an old friend came on. No, hang on, it was that bloke I'd bumped into on the high street. Lightspeed Champion. Man of the people. In a hat.

It's at this point I struggle with a review. I'm hopeless at describing music. How can I describe it? Don't know. Er... Acoustic.. ish.. Pop... ish... Indie... ish.. I liked it though. I liked it a lot to say I want to see him again. The band was superb, which greatly adds to the Dev's voice which is outstanding. Talking of outstanding voices, he was joined on stage by Emmy the Great, who added vocals and strings. I wasn't expecting that, and it only added to my enjoyment of some fabulous songs, played by a great band.

Not a lot more to say really - I loved the gig. Apparently there was a big celebrity following there as well. I've never heard of Alexa Cheung. Perhaps you have. She's famous apparently. She was there. So was Kelly Osbourne. Whoever they are, they've got great taste in music, obviously. Great gig. Great night. It only goes to show, sometimes all the signs of it being a really crap evening count for nothing.

http://www.myspace.com/oxeaglelionman
http://www.myspace.com/operatorplease
http://www.myspace.com/lightspeedchampion

A pleasant drink

roblogadmin — Thu, 08 May 2008 01:42:00 +0100

I'm tired. For all the right reasons, but I'm tired. In actual fact, I should really be in bed right now but for writing this article. But it's a tough life being a blogger. Especially when you wonder if anyone will be reading it, or more importantly, if they do, they actually find it interesting.

Anyway, I digress. I'm tired because I've had such a good weekend. And that's not bad seeing as I'm writing this on Wednesday night. It all started on the Friday evening with a game of football. A few of us have been getting together recently to have a game on a Friday. It's been really good to have an opportunity to play 11-a side for a change. We're clearly not very good as we've lost every game we've played. So, obviously a full tactical debrief is required in the boozer afterwards.

It was a thorough debrief. I'd talked so much my mouth was dry in the morning. What was also strange was that my head was thumping and I didn't appear to remember much of the tactical dissection of our game. So I stayed in bed a little longer to see if I could remember it. I didn't, but I blame that on the headache that wouldn't go away all day.

It wasn't so bad that I couldn't go to dinner in the evening on the Saturday. The food was very good, but the service was woeful. But all that waiting for the food and drinks to arrive gave me loads of time to catch up with some old friends I hadn't seen for a while. While we waited (and waited) for the bill, another friend arrived at the restaurant. He'd come over from Islington on a night on the beers and looked a bit disappointed that he'd left his beer, his mates and spent 20 quid on a taxi only to find we were all going home. Obviously we couldn't disappoint him, so I stayed out for a few more beers.

I was disappointed to find I'd missed the last tube. By two hours. So, a night bus was required, which actually wasn't that bad (thanks to Ken - sorry I didn't vote for you). But it was another night that I'd stayed out late, and another one that I'd had a few more beers than I'd wanted to. Unlike the Sunday, where I knew I'd be having some beers.

It was the last game of the season, so the plan was to go to the match, have a few drinks and go for a curry. And that's precisely what we did. But what made it special was that I was able to catch up with another old friend at the ground and at the pub afterwards. We talked a bit about football, but spent most of the time reflecting on how his life has changed now he's a dad. He didn't stay out too long, as he had to go home to bath his son. I hope I don't leave it so long till I see him next time.

Monday was supposed to be quiet. The plan was to go somewhere, sit in the sun and eat and relax. I could manage that. I seriously think I couldn't manage anything else. There was no danger that this could get out of hand. The friends I was meeting were not such big drinkers. So obviously we met in a pub. For drinks. The pub was so busy that they weren't serving food. So, we went to find some food in Kensington. The food and the company were superb. As were the drinks. We were so pleased, that we met up with some other friends at the pub for more drinks.

It was at this stage, I protested that I couldn't take it anymore. I had to go home. "Nonsense!", I was told. Come to the cinema. What could I do? I've been meaning to go to see what the place was like for sometime and it was absolutely fantastic. Where else can you settle down in leather seats each with a foot rest as you sip on a cold pint of Guinness. Oops. So much for the quiet Monday. Although that really wasn't on my mind as I tumbled on to the last tube of the evening.

I'd clearly not anticipated that I'd have such a busy weekend when I'd bought the tickets for the gig on Tuesday. I held them in my hands at work and my head swam. I really didn't fancy going. But what a waste of the tickets. So I phoned a mate to see if he wanted them. "Cool", he said, "What time shall I meet you?". That didn't go well at all. He really wasn't the bloke to go to a gig with if I fancied a quiet night. More beers. More late night tube journeys.

It was all fantastic. I shouldn't really have drunk so much. I really needed to eat a bit better. But it was all worth it. I have at times in my life forgotten just how important my friends are to me. I've sometimes neglected them. It's something that we're all a bit guilty of from time to time. But that's no reason not to keep making an effort. Everyone I caught up with over the weekend had their stories to tell. Some happy and some sad. Some of my friends I didn't see, but they weren't far from my mind. It's our friends and family who get us through it all as we make our way through our lives.

It's a part of my life that I identified in my recipe. With such good friends, and such a good weekend, it was a really great way to underline how important my friends are to me. I hope I never forget it.

A day in the life of a bug slayer: Part 2

roblogadmin — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 01:24:00 +0100

Its been quite a busy week for me again. I've spent the last week at a training course in Hammersmith. It's been really good and has been a really tremendous learning experience. The course was called Guerilla Enterprise .NET, which is run by the folks at Developmentor. I'd been on the Guerilla .NET course back in 2005, and it was good to get back to seeing what's going on out there in the real world. Another really cool feature of these courses is that they are really international affairs. Out of 15 students, only 3 were British. Only one out of the three instructors was English too. I think there were representatives from Switzerland, Slovenia, Germany, Belgium, Latvia and France. Probably more. They all, of course shamed the Brits with their language skills.

What I like about these courses is that there's a tremendous breadth and depth to the coverage of the courses. This one was primarily concerned with the two out of the three frameworks that appeared in .Net 3.0, the Windows Communications Foundation and the Windows Workflow Foundation both of which I''m really excited about getting to grips with and deploying into real world situations.

I don't want this article to be a whine, but over the last six months as I've concentrated on other aspects of my life, it's not gone unnoticed that in my professional life I've got to pick up the pace a bit. I discussed the pace of change in technology with one of the delegates on the course. We both agreed that the pace is quickening to a point where it's getting impossible to keep abreast of everything as we were once able to ten tears ago. But my main problem is that I'm not doing this stuff every day of my working life. And that's got to change. I can't afford to fall behind. It's a problem that so many of us in the industry are grappling with.

This presents me with a bit of a problem. I know that there's potentially fertile ground to apply these sort of technologies at work, but I'm also aware of the pace of change there. My greatest fear is that by the time we're in a position to deploy this type of technology, the ground will have shifted once more.

So what's a geek to do? I think the key as far as I'm concerned is this: Become knowledgeable and enthusiastic about the goodness that the new technology brings. Tell people about what you can do with it as often as you can. Impress them with it. If you fail to impress them with it, and you truly do believe in what you can do, then it's perhaps time to talk to someone else.

When push comes to shove, I'm not one of those guys who's always on the bleeding edge. I never will be. In fact I'm quite the opposite. "If it ain't broke, why fix it?" is a fine maxim. But it's inevitable that things in software change. You can either embrace the change of bury your head in the sand. The danger in not moving forward is that your software becomes more and more difficult to support as the skills required to do so dry up. Before you know it, your software is broken by default. No-one can fix it. Worse, no-one wants to fix it.

Time waits for no man. Least of all for a software architect. Every day, the clock ticks ever louder. I'm going to have to run faster just to stand still. Fun isn't it?

A day in the life of a bug slayer: Part 1

roblogadmin — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 00:27:00 +0100

To anyone who regularly reads this blog, it can't have escaped your notice that it's not been updated recently. That's not been intentional but I've been otherwise engaged. Nothing exciting mind - it's just left me with little energy or inclination to keep the blog up to date. It's not permanent, so for the record I'll be back to updating it a little bit more regularly.

So what's kept me so busy recently? Well, I've been debating whether to share this with the outside world or not, but, what the hell. I've spent the last three weeks cleaning, cataloging, cleaning, recording and cleaning. What, you might be asking, would necessitate me to do that? I've had a wee domestic problem caused by bed bugs.

Like many other people, I didn't even realise that they still were a problem, but they are as I've just found out. I've got no idea where they came from, but they came to light when I did my spring cleaning about a month ago. Naturally, I was horrified. I called in the professionals. I'm glad I did. According to the man who came round, it seems that they're a growing problem in London. The company I engaged do not merely spray the affected areas. As part of their treatment program, the client is required to monitor and inspect the affected areas rigorously. After two weeks, a thorough deep clean is also required.

The problem is that the buggers are adept at hiding even in the smallest places. This means that the clutter that I'd had around my bed (books, papers, magazines etc) needed checking page by page. That's right. Page by page. In addition, I've been laundering like you wouldn't believe. I've bought storage boxes for the laundered items. I've thrown stuff out. I've even invested in a steam cleaner. In short, it's not been any fun.

But the good news is that it all seems to be working. And I'm of course really happy about that. But, I'm guessing you might want to know why I'm sharing this with the world. After all, it's not something you really want to share with all and sundry. I'd put it on a par with acquiring an STD. It happens (although thankfully not to me), but it's something you really want to keep to yourself. But it's one of those things that I think I want to make sure that people are aware of. Especially if you live in London, or indeed any big city. Once established, they're not easy to get rid of. It's best to know what you're looking for in the first place. So from me to you, my advice is this. Make sure you know that these little creatures do exist. Check carefully that there are none living with you. Do it regularly, because according to the chap who came to help me, the problem only looks set to get worse and worse. Be warned.

Gig Review - ¡Forward Russia! - Kings College Students Union - 22nd April 2008

roblogadmin — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 23:06:00 +0100

It's been a little while since I've seen ¡Forward Russia!. I'd seen them three times when they were touring their most excellent first album Give Me a Wall. In particular, the gig in the Garage in searingly hot temperatures in July 2006 stands out for me as one of my all time favourite gigs, not least because of my awful drunken attempts to start a conversation with the band in the bar afterwards.

Since then, the band have gone back to the studio to record their (tricky) second album, Life Processes. I only bought it a few days before the gig, but played it enough times to be familiar with the new material by the time I arrived at KCSU. I like the venue - it's the only one that gives you the chance to meet the artists on the lift on the way up to the stage which is on the 4th floor of a very utilitarian building just off the strand. It's a great size, and being a student venue, the staff are pretty friendly.

Anyway - back to the band. Or rather, back to the band before the band. We'd caught one of the support band's entire set. They weren't bad. But weren't especially good either to be honest. Their material was a bit akin to a Mogwai tribute. But without the talent. Sorry chaps, I couldn't be bothered to find out your name. It's not that the performance was bad - it was just plain boring. And that's a shame because the band they were supporting are anything but.

It came as quite a relief then when ¡Forward Russia! did come on, and they came on in their now familiar rather cool looking band T-Shirts. They're a four piece. They're a strange looking bunch. The lead singer Tom is thin and wiry, with straggly hair, and the guitarist is a beardy type (who I think is called Whiskas - well one of them is and it seems to fit him best) and a rather cute drummer, Katie. Oh and the other one's called Rob. They started with a track called "Spring is a Condition" from the new album "Life Processes". It was a good start. From then on in, the band played a mixture of new and old, but with the clear emphasis on the new material. Tom introduced the first of the older stuff in a rather disadainful manner, acknowledging that we perhaps liked the older stuff more than the new. And to be honest, when they can be compared one against the other like they could when played live it's fairly obvious to me that the newer songs don't stand up to the older ones.

That's a real pity - as part of the charm of the band is the frenetic nature both of the music and the dancing of Tom. It's quite obvious that the new songs are at once more deliberate, more insisting that you take them a bit more seriously. But it really doesn't work as well. Even when performing the stand out song of the new album "Gravity and Heat", the band don't seem to perform with the same level of, well, madness. And like I said, that's a pity. Second albums are always difficult and I think the second album for them is just an example of this well known phenomena in music making.

They finished with the last two songs on the new album "A Shadow is a Shadow is a Shadow" and "Spanish Triangles". The former was pretty good, but I'm not a fan of the second as it's clearly a end of album/gig fadeout song. Way way too cliched for my liking.

Still, I went home happy. Perhaps I'll wait for a third album before I see them again. It's not that I don't like the newer songs, it's more that the band seem deternined that we should prefer them to the older ones. No chance, Tom. Sorry.

http://www.forwardrussia.com/

My head hurts

roblogadmin — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 02:45:00 +0100

Thirty six years old. Try that out for size. How does that sound? Too old? Am I getting old? Am I acting my age? Thirty six years old. So this is how it feels. Staring middle age in the face, bit by bit losing sight of my youth. Thirty six years old. Funny. Isn't it at this point I'm supposed to remind myself that I feel exactly the same as I did when I was 35? That I'm not getting older. That I'm still the same guy I was at 25? But I think I do feel a bit different. It's been a long time coming, but being thirty six is probably the age I've been most prepared for in my life. I'm thirty six years old and feel pretty good about it.

Well, strictly speaking I feel pretty good today. But I don't think I did for the two days following my birthday. Oh no. I'm fairly sure there used to be a time when a night down the pub with a few friends wouldn't require me to take a day off the next day, and if I did take the day off I wouldn't be spending that precious day off feeling sorry for myself. Because I now suffer from two day hangovers. Which gave me a lot of time to philosophise about how I feel about hangovers, or more to the point about drinking so much that I incurred a two day hangover.

Here's the thing. I've been working pretty hard to make sure I do get a two day hangover. I'm not used to drinking like that anymore. And this is a good thing. And, as the hangover began to pass, rather than saying something along the lines of "ugh, never again", then promptly doing it again and again, I realised that something strange had happened. I think I've changed. Yes, after six months, I think a change of lifestyle has occurred.

Let's get one thing straight. I like a drink. That's not going to change, thank goodness. It's just that I quite like being sober a lot more than I like being drunk. Or at least staying sober for much longer stretches than I used to before. I really quite enjoy being out with friends perfectly sober. The interesting thing is that I've found myself choosing to do it, rather than begrudgingly doing it to maintain a diet.

Take the previous weekend for example. I'd played a game of football, and over a beer in the pub, the conversation turned to the engagement party a few of us were going to the next day. "I'm going to drive", I casually mentioned thinking nothing of it. My friend nearly choked on his drink before exclaiming "What?" as if I'd just announced I was planning to arrive naked. But it really wasn't for any other reason that I didn't much fancy drinking, and I thought it would be a hell of a lot easier to drive.

Of course, my birthday was an entirely different matter. I'd done well over the last 6 months. I fancied a drink to celebrate it. I'd been planning it. And since I was planning on drinking to excess, I'd planned to eat to excess as well. So I did both. And I did both with aplomb. With only a slight loss of dignity on the night before.

It was fantastic to see so many good friends. Some of them hadn't seen me for a little while, so I think my new appearance came as a surprise to some. In fact, a very good friend of mine really didn't recognise me. So, I'd clearly made quite an outward change in the last few months. Oh, and while I'm on the subject, I didn't make my target. I was half a stone short. But I'm well pleased with that. And I'm also pleased that the doctor told me I'm in good shape. I'm still going to carry on and meet the target though. I still feel I need to.

Anyway, I've clearly made some outward changes, and I've talked previously about making some changes on the inside. And I do think I'm doing just as well there. I've come to realise that I could no longer just carry on exactly the same way as I was going. I'm quite sure without the change of lifestyle that I feel that I'm making at the moment, I really could find myself ten years from now wondering where the time has gone and wondering why my health is so bad, and why I'm not so happy.

It's an odd feeling thinking about your life with a hangover. It's an even odder feeling knowing that even though my head was pounding there wasn't a thought in that pounding head that regretted drinking the previous night. Neither was I proud of it. I was just safe in the knowledge that such nights were becoming increasingly rare in my life as I start acting my age at last.

I've still got to make my target from six months ago. I'm still going to do that. But I think it's time for a new focus and a new target. I'm not sure what it is yet, but I know I've still got much to do. There's a career to get going. A house to make the most of. And love to find. All of which should be easier to sort out without a hangover. So it's clear to me that whatever the target is, I've got to not forget the lessons I have learnt over the last six months. Everything that's happened and everything that has helped me to think about my life past and present has helped me grow more in this short time than I have done over the last six years. And I've got to keep building on that.

Whatever the target is, I hope I do well, because I'm going to enjoy the next two day hangover. Hopefully I'll have something to feel good about again.

Gig Review - Holy Fuck - 100 Club - 8th April 2008

roblogadmin — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 01:33:00 +0100

If you want to see dance music played live you can do far worse than checking out Crazy Penis (or Crazy P as they've now rebranded themselves). House music played live. Superb. If you've never seen them, and you love live music, you'll love this band. But if you want something dirty, something a little more, shall we say down to earth, a more visceral experience, you need Holy Fuck.

They're a four piece from Toronto, and their music is a little difficult to nail down. They do live electronica. But that's not helping. So, imagine two lads each with a table full of electronic equipment in front of them (keyboards, synths, effects, and weirdly a 35mm film sequencer). Add a bass. And some drums. And watch them perform.

Which brings me neatly to my point about the audience. There were lots of Geek boys there. And a few geek girls as well. The geek boy next to me stared at every unit and effect the lads set up. Studied them to see what they were, making a mental note of everything. And I don't think that's such a bad thing to do, because if he came close to some of the sounds that these boys produced I'd be impressed. They play anything from Dub influenced beats to electro, to acid techno. But nothing sticks to a formula. And the live bass and the drums just adds a fantastic edge to the performance that just wouldn't be there without them.

They built up quite a head of steam. I looked around at the crowd. There was lots of dancing and strangely some dry humping to the music. It wasn't pretty to watch. But everyone was having a good time. Geek boy next to me suddenly had an upturn in his evening as not one, but two geek girls decided it would be fun to go over to him and give him a snog right out of the blue. Poor lad didn't seem to know what hit him. He was probably still trying to concentrate on what the effects boxes were.

What did I think of them? Well, this was the second time I'd seen them. I saw them last summer at Glastonbury and to be honest I thought they were much better then. They're the sort of band I think you have to be in exactly the right state of mind to truly appreciate. If you catch my drift. But I'd still say they're a band to go and see if you can. I'm sure that won't be difficult. It's a pretty safe bet they've got a few festivals booked this summer.

http://www.myspace.com/holyfuck

Gig Review - Malcolm Middleton - Union Chapel - 2nd April 2008

roblogadmin — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 01:09:00 +0100

"Well, this is a bit of a shithole"

Quite an opening line from our Malcy. And to be fair, I think I did well to understand him, such is the way that he mumbles in between songs. And that's a shame, because the man has such a fierce wit that when you do hear what he's saying it's invariably incredibly funny.

But anyway, back to the comment. He was being somewhat ironic. To be entirely honest, half the reason I bought the tickets in the first place was because I so wanted to actually see what the venue was like. I wasn't disappointed. My jaw dropped even as I walked through the door. The Union Chapel is a working church, arts centre and homeless project in the heart of Islington. As a music venue it's superb. The pews are arranged in a semi circle around the stage. And there's not a bad seat in the house. The lighting is simply superb as well, making best use of the interior of the building and the windows.

So, as I stared in wonder around the place, Malcolm and his band (I say band, but it was a chap on a double bass, and the fabulous Jenny Reeve on violin and vocals) came on. He started with a rendition of We're All Going to Die, his Christmas single. It was much flatter than the recording, and I thought that this gig might be a little disappointing from the sound of the song. There wasn't much wrong with it, but I'm not sure I wanted to listen to a whole set of his songs sung in such a down beat manner.

I wasn't disappointed however. I had nothing to worry about. The songs are so well written, so well performed that there was no chance that this was going to be a disappointment. Not a chance. I've not got his latest album yet, and he played a lot of material that was unfamiliar to me. But all of them, yes, all of them were electric.

I did catch a little bit of his between songs banter. He said he was quite disappointed that there was no heckling. I think there was a reason for that. I think we were all so enthralled by the quality of the performance and the beauty of the venue that was the last thing on our mind.

http://www.malcolmmiddleton.co.uk/

I can't afford to get bogged down

roblogadmin — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 02:48:00 +0100

It's been a weekend of goodbyes. Lots of them. I have to admit that some of them were harder than others, but saying goodbye is always hard in some way. One of them was so unexpected, I certainly wasn't prepared for it. I found myself in Church on Friday night to see a friend's son confirmed. I was really pleased I went along, as he's turned into a very impressive young man. I wish him well as he makes his way in life and as he starts to say goodbye himself to his childish preoccupations and grows to maturity. But as I stood and sat (I didn't kneel, heathen that I am) in the church, and listened to the service, and looked around at all the trappings of christianity, I came to the simple inescapable conclusion that I am a confirmed atheist. I simply don't believe in God or organised religion. Not a bit of it.

I wonder how many people have gazed up at the cross in a church and had the same thought - that this really means absolutely nothing to me. As I stared up at the figure, I said my goodbyes to what remained of my religious beliefs. It was a strange feeling. I tried to put my finger on it, and I realised that the feeling was in fact guilt. A twinge of good old fashioned god fearing guilt. And then it was done. That guilty feeling simply underlined why I reject this and all religions. Why would I feel guilty at thinking this, just because I was in church? There simply is no rational reason, and the guilt comes from years of indoctrination that someone, something, some God, was monitoring what I thought and did at all times. But somehow if I really believed in all this stuff that I saw and heard around me, believed in this one true God, then I'd be fine. But I don't believe. I have no faith to hold on to. Not a shred left. So on Friday night, I said goodbye to God.

That wasn't enough for one evening though. There was more. I headed across town, got lost somewhere in Bexley, before finding the venue for my next goodbye. There were lots of smiles. Plenty of laughing. More than enough drinking. A different kind of goodbye. A smile, a hug, a kiss and a twinge of regret and it was done. Back home to bed, to get up for the next day's goodbyes.

An early start after a restless, sleepless night, kept awake by the sound of my own thoughts. I'm fairly sure it wasn't God keeping me awake. He doesn't exist, remember? The next goodbye was to my erstwhile house mate as he moved into a shared flat with another friend. I spent the day helping them move, and as I did I discussed the goodbyes of the previous day with one of them. As we talked, it seemed to me that as each day goes on, I'm in the process of saying another goodbye. A long goodbye to my youth, if you like.

It's not something I'm concerned about. Quite the contrary, I'm actually quite pleased that I'm becoming more comfortable in myself as I approach a new time in my life. I'm not keen on staying out all night drinking. I'm not likely to go to night clubs. Shhh. Don't tell anyone but I think I quite like acting my age. That's not so bad. But things are definitely changing for me. I'm quite certain that I've said goodbye to a lot of aspects of my life as a younger person.

With that amount of farewells in such a short amount of time, I escaped to the woods to mull over my thoughts. It was muddy. Glastonbury muddy to give you an idea. Despite the clocks going forward, I left quite late, so I had to walk as fast as my legs could carry me. The mud was therefore a challenge. In order to make it to Epping for sunset, I couldn't afford to get bogged down in the mud. As I walked, as I thought about the previous two days, I constantly struggled with the mud. I found the best way to deal with it was to keep up the pace and plough on regardless. Any other way meant that I got stuck, or slid about. In any case, it would hold me up as I pussy footed my way through. And with about 15 miles to walk, that could be an awful lot of pussy footing.

Saying goodbyes are hard, I thought to myself. But as I strode onwards through the mud, it occurred to me that you have two choices in dealing with it. You can dwell on what's gone before. Never let it go. Never move on and become bogged down in the the past. Or, alternatively, you move on, accept that change is good and find something new. The key to dealing with the mud was to move quickly through it. It's no different in life. Choose your path carefully, but move swiftly. Don't hang about and keep moving forward.

I stopped in the quietest bit of the forest and listened to the birds singing and the rain falling on last summer's fallen leaves. The sun barely illuminated the tops of the tallest trees. Time moves relentlessy onwards. Things change. People change. Seasons change. We all change. Its part of what makes life so good.

Track of the Week - Fourth of July - Galaxie 500

roblogadmin — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 02:32:00 +0000

I was first played this track as a first year in University in 1990, by a flat mate who's name, I seem to remember, was Neil. As with a lot of people who go away for the first time, I arrived at my new residence a bit wet behind the ears. Neil, however, was cool. He had a guitar. He smoked Marlboro Lights. And he liked Galaxie 500.

Fourth of July is from the Album "This is Our Music", which was released in 1990. It's the first track, and I can still vividly remember the effect that the song had on me the first time I heard it. I was mesmerised. I'd never heard music like this before, although to be fair I wasn't exactly listening to cutting edge music at the time. Queen, Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple formed the backbone of my music collection, so I guess it was going to be fairly likely that this music would sound a bit, well exotic, to the boy that I was at the time. I remember commenting to Neil that all the tracks sounded the same (they don't). He tugged on his cigarette, slowly blew out the smoke as was his way, then sagely replied "Exactly". I'm not sure what that exactly means, but hey, he was cool and I wasn't. So I took it as read that this was good.

I didn't know at the time that this would turn into one of my favourite albums of all time. But it has. It's an album I turn to at various times in my life. It's the sort of album that's the perfect match for episodes in my life where I've been melancholy. Not happy, not depressed, not angry, not upset. Just, well, a bit flat. As regular readers may have read, I'm feeling a bit melancholy at the moment and this track (well, the entire album) is taking a bit of a battering right now.

Galaxie 500 were a three piece who split in 1991 after releasing three albums, of which this one is the last. Their music stands out for itself, but their lyrics are also quite interesting. They range from somewhat bizarre, to tragicomic as is the case with Fourth of July. The song opens with this:

I wrote a poem on a dog biscuit
And even your dog refused to look at it

I was about to say something along the lines of well, we've all been there, but quite clearly we haven't, not literally. But I like the allegory. Later on, this line is trumped by my favourite:

I stayed at home on the Fourth of July
And I pulled the shades so I didn't have to see the sky
And I decided to have a bed in
But I forgot to invite anybody

Even if you've never heard the track before, you can guess it's not an uplifting type of song. On the other hand it's not depressing either. The music has almost dream like quality to it. The mood of the music neither lightens or darkens throughout the song, although the lyrics do hint at mood swings that aren't reflected by the flow of the song:

Maybe I should just change my style
But I feel alright when you smile

Looking back to my first thoughts about the song all those years ago, it's not the case that all the songs sound the same. Rather for me, the songs do share a certain enigmatic quality. Read into them as much or as little into them as you like. I'm sure it means something different every time I listen to it. And because of that, there's no way this song could ever sound the same way twice.

In between days

roblogadmin — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 00:45:00 +0000

For me, as with a lot of people, Easter signals the end of Winter and the beginning of Summer. It's always a good time as you begin to think about your plans for the coming months, and start to pack away the warm winter clothes. Spring cleaning is often on the cards. Holidays are planned. The dark days of winter become a distant memory. The trees begin to bud, and the daffodils look beautiful. It's a time for hopes and dreams.

It's no different for me, as I look forward to the months ahead. I've got plans for the summer. Not only have I packed away some of my clothes, in a fit of enthusiastic spring cleaning I tossed about 4 bags of clothes out for recycling. I'm really pleased with the way I'm looking, and for the first time in a long time, it actually wasn't an unpleasant experience buying clothes the other week. There's still a lot more work to do, and I can't afford to rest on my laurels at the moment, tempting as it is. I'm really pleased I set my target. I'm not going to make it, but I've given it a damn good go. I'm so pleased with the really nice compliments that friends and family have given me. Each kind word has meant such a lot to me, more than I think anyone will possibly know. I've got a revised target in the back of my mind and I'm sure they'll be an update on this just after my birthday.

As well as looking after my health, I've got a new focus on looking after my wealth. Or rather addressing my lack of it. It's going to be a more frugal Summer, as I attempt to maintain the financial discipline of regular saving. There's a reason for this, as it's about time I started doing the things around the house that I'd like to sort out that I don't want to borrow to finance. This year the project is to sort out the garden. The target is to have a BBQ this summer and to be proud of the way my garden looks. At the moment, this looks a long way off, but with the help of a good friend who's given me some great ideas, I think I've got a plan to get things moving forward.

Health and wealth are important, but they are as nothing without happiness and this isn't one quite so easy to plan for. I'm fairly sure that if I stick to my recipe then it's a good start. But it's fair to say that right at this moment I'm neither here nor there. Neither happy nor sad. But both. Neither contented nor frustrated. But both. I'm in the in between place. But it's a good place to be. Let me try to explain.

How is it I can be happy and sad at the same time? I've been asking myself the same question and no matter which way I look at it, that's exactly how I feel. It's difficult to put into words without saying things here that should be kept to myself. But I'm feeling sad at losing a friend who's going away. I'm feeling sad as I think about things that might have been but never were. I'm feeling sad that my time ran out even before it began. And I'm sad because there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

But I'm happy even as I write about the sadness. I've had this feeling for the last few weeks, but I've been unable to work out what it is that made me feel so positive and happy about it all. And strange as it might sound, it's that sadness that's the source of the happiness I now feel. I'm sad because I'm mourning the loss of something I never really had - a mere possibility. But it's that possibility that has awoken something in me. It's lead me to have feelings that have long since been buried.

It's interesting that when I wrote about knowing what I want in a previous blog entry, I still didn't see it then that I was still missing something. I think I understand it now. Even though I've known what I want, I've never really allowed myself to believe that I could have it. Looking back now, it seems obvious but I wasn't aware of it. It seems that the pain of the past really did cast a longer shadow than I thought. But now, as I look back over the last few weeks I can see that the feelings that I've had, however misplaced, have been free of that shadow. And that makes me happy. Happy to look to the future. Happy to be liberated from the past. Happy to be looking forward to being happy.

And I'm happy too for my friend. I hope she finds all she's looking for as well as we continue on our own journeys through life. It seems like we've both got things to look forward to. Spring has sprung. Winter is over. Summer will soon be here. And I can't wait for it to arrive.

Gig Review - Ida Maria - Barfly - 18th March

roblogadmin — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 02:01:00 +0000

Its been one of the strangest weekends I'd had for quite a while. A weekend of drinking and debauchery, a weekend of loving and laughing, a weekend when I'd surprised myself with the sizes of clothes I could buy in the shops, but also a weekend when I'd fallen off the wagon quite spectacularly. And yet it had also been filled with a tinge of sadness that for the life of me I really didn't need right now.

So it was no surprise that, for the first time in the three times that I'd seen her this year, I was quite taken by the other side of her performance - the songs of sadness, anger, lust and of longing. It's quite apparent that this girl lives life as it's meant to be lived. She writes it as she feels it. And does she feel it. I listened to the words a bit more this time around. And although they're never going to win any prizes for poetry, like the music, the honesty and simplicity of them says much more to me about her than any clever words could.

"Drive away my heart" is such an incredibly personal song for her, written seemingly when she was at her lowest ebb, feeling lonely and unloved. She writes about someone she falls in love with at the time who stole her heart. In "Queen of the World" she sings that she's "free this month, lonely this year, lonely for ever". It's a fantastically worked song, quite reminiscent of some of the Smiths best moments with Marr-esque guitar playing. It plays that brilliant trick of being simulataneously hopeless but hopeful. If you don't believe me, then listen for yourself

The real joy of her music is that its almost a documentary of her life. You see her happy. You see her sexy. And you see her sad. I was glad I'd come with my friend who "discovered" Ida before me. She'd not been to see her before. Not for want of trying though. We'd talked about which of the three we should go to together. It wasn't this one, and I certainly didn't think I'd see all three. But it's a funny old world. Some things are just meant to be.

As we began to make our way out, I asked my friend what she thought. After some thought, she glanced back at the stage before delivering her verdict.

"Fuck Girls Aloud", she said, "She's a real role model for women".

Quite.

Gig Review - Editors - Alexandra Palace - 5th March 2008

roblogadmin — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 17:57:00 +0000

What happens when you take the angst ridden mincing of Chris Martin, add a dash of Marti Pellow's inane grinning, paint it all on the face of Toby Anstis and project it on a huge screen? For me the end result was pure comedy as I laughed at Tom Smith's theatrics through the first few songs of Editor's set last night. I've got to say in his defence it wasn't his fault that where I was stood, I couldn't see much of the stage, so I was compelled to watch the big screens. But, this being the 4th time I've seen the band, this was the closest look I'd given him. I wish I hadn't.

The first time I saw Editors was in Brixton a year or two ago. I remember I'd heard that they'd built up quite a reputation as a live act. They'd released their first album "The Back Room", but I purposely hadn't bought it before I saw them. And I've got to say I loved the gig. So much I remember commenting at the time that they were "my new favourite band". I bought the album the next day, put it on and loved it. But, as with so many albums that I love the first time I listen to them, I thought that the instant accessibility of the music is traded for longevity. So much so, I rarely listen to it much at all these days. I haven't bought the second album either, which does have plenty of catchy tunes on it, but is pretty much the same sort of thing.

Why have I seen them four times you may well ask? The second time I saw them was at V, and I remember I enjoyed it, but not quite so much. I'm wasn't sure why, so I saw them again at Glastonbury. I don't think the experience was any better, as I have no clear recollection of seeing them at all there. But there might be other (cough) reasons for that. And last night I hadn't planned to go, but there was a spare ticket, so being a sucker for the live music experience I went along.

Half way though the gig, I decided I could no longer take looking at Tom's effete performance on the big screen, so I moved over to the side but a lot nearer the front of the stage. This was much better as I no longer had to look at the big screen. I don't really appreciate big gigs much, so I'm not a fan of watching a big screen at all; the new viewing position was much better, and I think I appreciated the band much more.

That's not to say that I've changed my mind about them though. I don't think I'd pay to see them again if I'm being honest. And it's not because they're a bad band. They do what they do really well. Tom's vocals are absolutely phenomenal, and the screaming guitar playing of Chris Urbanowicz marks the band's now unique sound. The songs are all (apart from the dreaded ballad) well written, all of them catchy. The thing is, they're all of them pop songs. And that's at the heart of the matter for me.

When I first heard the band play, the distinctive sound was moody, dark and brooding. The lyrics that I caught seemed to have something to say. But the problem is that they don't have much to say at all. One of the guys described the resulting sound as "Joy Division Light". I'm sure the phrase wasn't his invention, but you can well understand it. Editors write songs about pain and loss almost voyeuristically. I don't feel connected to their songs, largely because they don't either. They don't feel the pain or the anger. They just write about it. Joy Division didn't simply reflect these emotions, they lived them. And there's a huge gulf between these two bands.

It's sometimes not easy to listen to Joy Division, but it's never a chore to listen to Editors. Take your pick. Which band matters most? Editors I'm sure will continue to entertain with their unique sounding niche of indie/rock/pop/what have you. I'm sure I'll put their album on again once in a while. It will probably cheer me up as I tap my feet to the tunes. But their music won't ever touch my heart the way I'd hoped it would when I first heard them.

I wouldn't change a thing.

roblogadmin — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 01:41:00 +0000

Welcome to the first entry of my blog written "on tour". It's actually been written at my parent's home in Norfolk. Even this is a bit strange, as there's a distinct possibility that they will read this entry while I'm still here. Better not be too controversial then I guess.

It's been a good couple of days away from London. I've been able to go on a couple of nice walks (neither of them anywhere near Epping which makes a change). They've been great and it was good to go out with Mum and Dad. I'm glad I've had chance to not be at home for a little while. It's given me some time to reflect on what's been (or not been) happening in my life in the last few weeks.

As every day goes on, I do feel my sense of direction get stronger and I feel that I'm growing in confidence as I start to take control much more of what I want to do and where I want to be. In some cases, this has meant some changes. Some of them are more noticeable than others. Who could have missed the facial fuzz, my comic attempts to deal with my lengthening hair, and the fact that some of my clothes just don't seem to fit quite as well as they once did? Hassan, the proprietor of my local 24 hour shop, bless him, actually didn't recognise me, and when he did felt sure I was ill. Thanks, mate. I'm fine. Better than ever.

Others have been less visible, but nonetheless important. I've been thinking about the person that I am, and if I am happy in my own skin. Now, obviously, I've made some changes on the outside, but what about the inside? Could I make some changes there?

That's a difficult subject. I'm not going to be so stupid and arrogant to say that improvements couldn't be made (which is ironic, as I would say that I'd like to be less arrogant at times). But, I'd like to think that I'm seen as a fairly decent, nice, honest kind of chap. And that's really important to me. I'm a great believer in that great maxim of "do unto others as you would have them do unto you". As a moral compass I think it's a great guide, and I try and follow it as much as I can.

What bothers me about living this way is that it's got an obvious flaw. Not everyone sticks to it. Life is a balancing act between the conflicting needs of self interests and supporting the interests of others. If you strongly favour the former, you find that you might be staggeringly successful, but you find you don't have any friends, and your quality of life is diminished. If it's the latter you favour, you find yourself constantly helping other people to achieve their goals, but neglect your own in preference to theirs, and your quality of life is also diminished. Finding the right balance between the two, and knowing when to favour one side over the other is the key to finding happiness from within. I think. I also think it's very hard to achieve.

I've been wondering over the past few days if I favour one side too much over the other. It's a difficult one. I think I probably do. And a lot of the time it doesn't do me any favours. Life is a competition, especially in matters of the heart. Would I be better off looking after my own self interest at the expense of others? Should I say things that other people want to hear just so I can get what I want? Should I pretend to be a person that I'm not? I know an awful lot of people do. And more often than not, they on the face of it have greater success than I.

But what would I truly achieve if I made an effort to change in this way? In effect, to become more selfish. What sort of person would I become? Would it be a good strategy for me? I honestly don't think so. To do this, I would have to become, even in a small way, more cynical, more calculating and a less honest person than I am now. It's not something I'm prepared to do.

How can I truly expect to find someone who's decent and honest who respects me if I can't offer them the same in the first place? If that makes me too nice, then so be it. I don't think that I'm ever going to change that - nor would I want to. I know it means that I'm going to find it more difficult to find the right person. But I'm still sure that it's the right thing to do.

There are up sides to all of this, however. I've got 35 years of practice of being me and knowing what I'm looking for. It's not often that I meet someone who I know I really like, but I'm damn sure about it when I do. I'm even mature enough to express it these days when given the opportunity. And you won't catch me messing about when I find that person either. I might not always be successful, but I know I'm not going to compromise now. Not a chance. That would be a change too far.

Gig Review - Imperial Leisure - Borderline - 28th February 2008

roblogadmin — Fri, 29 Feb 2008 02:10:00 +0000

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

Walking forward, looking back

roblogadmin — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 23:59:00 +0000

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.

Album Review - District Line - Bob Mould

roblogadmin — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 02:07:00 +0000

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.

Gig Review - Operator Please - Watershed, Wimbledon - 17th Feb 2008

roblogadmin — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 02:03:00 +0000

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?

Justice - An update

roblogadmin — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 03:06:00 +0000

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.

Gig Review - Justice - Astoria - 14th Feb 2008

roblogadmin — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 02:25:00 +0000

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.

Gig Review - Ida Maria - Borderline - 13th February 2008

roblogadmin — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 01:23:00 +0000

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.

Two nil and we (ahem) messed it up

roblogadmin — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 01:07:00 +0000

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.

Creating a brand new recipe

roblogadmin — Mon, 11 Feb 2008 00:54:00 +0000

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.