METRONOMY, 23rd JANUARY '11

Whilst this weekend saw me devouring enough food to sustain a baby elephant for a week [standard at Greek parties/dinners, of which I attended two], it was washed down nicely with a giant gulp of LED Formation lights and incredibly catchy synthy refrains in the form of Devon/London veterans Metronomy.

A far cry from the ten-strong dribble that attended a gig five years ago at the then Med Bar in the Custard Factory, Metronomy commanded the stage and controlled the crowd like Derren Brown on a particularly good day but with better sound effects.

Opening with an old favourite, probably Back on the Motorway or Holiday [memory loss due to Captain Morgan, you bad man], we were immediately drawn in as the band bobbed and harmonized their way through a set of past, present and future gems.  Memories such as You Could Easily Have Me made an unexpected but welcome appearance complete with saxophone solo, followed by songs from the second wave including the much loved and widely re-mixed Heatbreaker.  Interspersed with new tunes from forthcoming album The English Riviera maintaining the ever familiar electronic hum and drum of Metronomy's signature sound with hints of new-found experimental chord progressions and brilliantly daring harmonies, suffice to say everyone left the venue in a mad scurry to scour the internet for a sneak peak. Favourite new tracks include We Broke Free and She Wants; definitely justification for spending.

They don't hover on stage, but if they did I'd be pretty excited.

Support came from Birmingham's own solo 'Electronic Musician'  Seams (James Welch) who produced club-worthy tracks single-handedly on stage coming up for no air until the final button was pushed, and London/New Zealand based Connan Mockasin who sounded like mélange of late nineties Nirvana in a sixties timewarp. Surprising but incredibly contageous and well worth a listen.

METRONOMY
SEAMS
CONNAN MOCKASIN

HAPPY NEW YOIK

GOSH.
It certainly has been a while since I have had enough new knowledge to attempt to write something interesting on this page, and since I last wrote I have seen Snow, Christmas, New Year, New York and New Years' Resolutions all fly past me in a speedy cloud of candy canes and marshmallows. [Not True]

It would seem, therefore, that I should have learnt a lot during this month of festivities;
but in all honesty I coldn't tell you whether it is enough to fill a Christmas Stocking or an entire Grotto.  Here begins my list in an attempt to reveal just what the bloody hell I've been doing all this time:

ONE] Surprises really are one of the greatest things to have been created on this earth, right up there with
         electricity and make-up remover. [except for instances like I'm actually a man. Surprise! in which case it
         moves considerably lower down the list. Thanks Jerry Springer] This is because:
               a] it flicks some 'childhood switch' in peoples' brains and reverts them to the age of five, which is
                   mostly very endearing. [It is not however OK to take this as an opportunity to squeal like a pig.]
               b] thinking you're getting speakers for Christmas and actually getting a macbook adds ten points to
                   your answer to the On a scale of one to ten, how good was your Christmas Day? question.
               c] if you're having a bad day, a surprise can make it considerably better.  If you're having a good day
                   a surprise will make you feel like that homeless man with the voiceover voice now he's a celeb, if he
                   received a cheque from Bil Gates. [that's pretty happy].

This is a pretty good 'surprise face', although I'm not sure the surprise involved sweets, or a Mac.

TWO] The limbo time after Christmas and before New Years' Eve can be horrendously boring. UNLESS YOU GO
          TO NEW YORK. [and unless you've been playing a five-day game of monopoly]  Without sounding clichéd,
           I had a brilliant time being a tourist during these days.  I had my camera in my hand twenty four hours a
           day, ordered chips with everuything and said 'wow' an awful lot.
           That being said, we had a trusty 'non-touristy' guide in the form of Julia Krivonos who took my sister and I
           round Brooklyn and other places- like American Apparrel. [1oo% not lying. I wish I was.]
           Highlights had to be walking past Backstreet Boys performing a few hits [debateable] on-stage in Times
           Square and seeing the beautiful 3D light projection show on the building opposite the Rockerfeller Centre.
          [during which time we saw a lady get knocked over by a car. Not so good. She got up though and was
          taken to hospital, whilst dancing ball-balls were singining on a skyscraper.]  I did however learn that:
                a] it is probably not a good idea to learn to ice skate in central park - in the festive season - whilst two
                    year olds are pirouetting around you.  I'd also suggest you bring your own skates if you have them. 
                    The ones I rented have left a lovely hole in my foot. Incredibly fun though!
                b] it is probably a very good idea to take a real life camera rather than a phone.  Here are some I took
                    though, quality aside:

There was a lot of snow. I didn't want to sit down anyway so..

A good example of a 'surprise!' face.

there's more HERE . [not that many really]

THREE] New Years' Resolutions are only worth aiming for if they are remotely realistic.  That's not always
             particulary fun though. [lets face it, Jude Law is getting married soon, again, to someone who is not
             any of us. IIt's time to let go.]. So I'll leave you with mine.  I'm not saying whether they are realistic
             or not. I'm just saying:

                                      Get Signed. Get luvved up. Learn to Skate.
[I can actually spell].
www.myspace.com/hearthesehearts  (plug, plug, plug)

Happy New Year.
Here's to the best summer yet.

x

SPONTANEOUS SNOWBUSTION

THIS weekend saw me remain in Birmingham for a much needed catch-up with pretty much everything;
Sleep, Zombies, Friends and Travellers.
Things I learnt were few and far between, however here's my pick of the best new morsels of information which filled  my head over the last few days:

ONE] [most] Things are almost 1oo% better when they are not planned.  This could be anything really,
         from trips to ice kissed parks to deciding what you're going to wear five minutes before you leave the
         house.[or going to MANNEQUIN of a Friday Night-Time] Either way, I think spontaneity is most definitely
         something that has to be maintained [Bit of an oxymoron. Whatever] because:
              a] there is no silly build up surrounding said event/act/trip/outfit, ultimately leading to a very real,
                  pretty annoying let-down. [unless of course your trip is to a Victorian sweet shop, in which case
                  there won't ever be a let down.]
             b]  It automatically makes everything more exciting.  No planning means no control, no control
                  means uncertainty, and uncertainty means anything could happen! [or it means odd socks, vpls and
                  make-up like that of the lovely lady who was on Jeremy Kyle yesterday.  She was probably from
                  Birmingham, lets be honest.]

Please buy this lady a mirror for Christmas.

TWO] Putting up a Christmas tree and decorating a house, whatever the result [and with an amalgamation of
         decorations spanning from the early eighties to the present day added to my mom's obsession with singing
         Christmas trees/santas/snowmen, mine is putting the 'tack' back in tacky], makes December one of my
         favourite months of the year.  I'm not sure whether it's the smell of the tree when I go into the kitchen with
         just about one eye open, or the tiny, skinny santa standing quite pointlessly on the stair bannister, or both
         of these things that make waking up to a freezing winter morning a quite nice thing to do. ANYWAY, i'm
        rambling, so here is a photo I took this morning:

The trees were COVERED in Ice and snow.  My photo seems to have removed all traces of that. Great.

THREE] About three years ago I discovered the music of  Gregor Samsa and Warpaint on the same day.  Whilst
            Warpaint are most definitely one of my favourite bands and are now tipped to be ones to watch in 2011,
            I feel I must also give Gregor Samsa a little platform from which to glisten. Slightly. [A bit like sparkly ball
            balls but less plastic and a bit more talkative.]  Whilst their songs aren't really fitting for preparation of
            nights to be spent dancing with Zombie skulls and large plastic crosses 'til the early hours [have a
            gander and a drink at ZOMBIE PROM, every Saturday Night-time] they are pretty
            much perfect for every other wintery occasion, with mellowing melodies, delicate glpkenshpiels and
            incredibly soothing vocals.  Give them a listen here + a mug of your favourite hot drink with a zing of
            something warming. [obviously whiskey, rum or baileys. OBVIOUSLY]

Here's the real Gregor Samsa, a character from a short story called Moramorphosis by Franz Kafka. [Yes he is a cockroach]  I recommed his Metamorphosis & Other Stories which I am actually currently reading on and off.  Weird as 'ell.

In other news, I am failing my little challenge of going to the German Market every day as miserably as Jack Dee reading the orbituary in a village paper [pretty disgustingly miserable].  Out of about three weeks I have been a grand total of twice.  If you want to help me salvage whatever remains of this challenge, please let me know.

x
           

SUPERCI[ZE]DER ME

LAST weekend was nothing short of fruitful with regard to the amount of things I learnt, a bit like Harvest, but less charitable and slightly more debaucherous. Nonetheless fruitful it was, so let me waste no further time in going straight into my top three nuggets of information:

ONE] Superheroes have more fun.  It's true; and by 'Superheroes' i'm not referring to real-life [fake]
         comic phenomenons people only get the opportunity to engage with through faded old strips or over a
         mountain of toffee popcorn, i'm talking tangible, twenty year old+ crazed youthful people in tights and
         spandex.  This Friday saw  exactly that, with the twenty first birthday of a good friend exploding in a haze of
         train station wrestling, cape flapping and papparazzi-style mobbing.  Why we all decided to wear the
         tightest outfits known to man will forever remain a mystery, but it happened, and so did THIS:

Batman, Robin, the Joker, Poison Ivy and Catwoman, with a Ghost Buster peeping his head through, like a little guard dog, checking that we were all safe from ghosts and such. Pee.ess No imagination needed for this photo.

        Wave goodbye to your previous personas, dignity and morals  [catwoman can pretty much get away with

          anything], Batman Fancy Dress is probably the best idea anyone's had in a long time [except for buy one

          pizza, get another for £1, which is a pretty brilliant idea.]

TWO] South London bus experiences are better than watching Jeremy Kyle.  Whilst many avid fans of Jezza will

          positively be cursing into their Monstermunch at this statement, others will know exactly what I am

          referring to. Note:  It is not OK to think you can start a fight with six superheroes on a bus when:

                         a] you've clearly had enough cider to sedate a pregnant elephant.

                         b] you think that proceeding to whip off your jumper and shirt to reveal your prized wife beater is

                             intimidating.  It's about as intimidating as Joe Pasquale, in a baby grow, after inhaling helium.

                         c] the people you're threatening to 'merk' actually know you.  Yes, this one was a real bright

                             spark.

                            

Just 'av it.

THREE] Vocalzone voice sweets are INCREDIBLE.  Not only to these pastilles work miracles [until you've tried

             singing for an entire day after having gone out as a back-flipping, spandex-wearing lady-cat the night

             before you won't know my pain] by completely restoring your voice/sinuses in the face of despair, they

             come wrapped in a packet with mini treble clefs dotted around the foil! Is this not amazing?!

             Whilst this last fact clearly shows the state of insanity recording songs for hours every available

             weekend has driven me to, i'm pretty sure that any singer I know will google them after reading this.

Look at it. All mighty and red.  Not sure why the rabbit from Donnie Darko is on the cover though.

SO there we have it.

Superheroes, fake fights and red packaging; all in a weekends' work darling.

I would also like to quickly take this opportunity to mention that an old friend was recently in a devastating car crash; he is still in a critical condition and still in a coma but is showing signs of stabilizing and definite improvement, which is absolutely brilliant news.  Hopefully I'll have more good news soon.

Get better soon George.

xx

LEA[R]N ON ME

THIS weekend saw me completely recovered, ready for another hectic few days filled with the three 'S's:
Singing, Sambucca and Squidgy chips. In that order.
On being asked this Saturday, whilst in a somewhat 'merry' state, what I had learnt in the past two days, my response of 'absolutely bloody nothing' came as a dishearterning [if somewhat hilarious,obviously the fault of rum] reply. What I am learning, however unfortunate/ironic this may be, is that I am learning less and less each weekend, a situation which I am finding more distressing as the weeks go on. [this is a lie]

Well I for one think this chappie needs to chill out.

 
SO mindful that I am clutching at straws [very short, skinny ones at that; the kind you'd get in those orange juice cartons they give to children under the age of five], here's a list of the things I learnt this weekend:

ONE] There's nothing like a good old sing song in the night with a guitar and a group of merry people round
         a cat and a bottle of blueberry vodka? [obviously the cat and the vodka are mutually exclusive here
         otherwise we'd be arrested, although she does likes to put pretty much anything in her mouth, no innuendo
         intended]  This is always a good idea:
                         a] because everyone seems to enjoy this.  Even if you're not singing [which you will be], it'll
                             put you in a really nice mood. It's like the marshmallow of 'group gatherings', but not when
                            you burn them on a fire, because that would just be sad.
                        b] if there isn't a camera; anywhere. I always seem to think that even if I am merry and holding
                            my phone filming such things the microphone won't pick my voice up. Unfortunately on this
                            point I am probably as wrong as the love child of David Gest and Donatella Versace would
                            look.

I couldn't find them in a photograph together.  Good job really.  It'd probably crack my screen.

TWO] Recording all weekend is draining but incredibly rewarding and fun. [like when you're half way through a
          brilliant film, surrounded by pizza and candy floss but your eyes feel insanely heavy and drop a millimetre
          every second]; but at the risk of my old head mistress hunting me down and beating me to death, " I wish
          I had more time!".  It's all worth it though because
                         a] I've always wanted to go to Japan and we're definitely going to play Japan, so that's good.
                            [this is 1oo% hope and o% fact]
                         b] people always think you're more interesting when you say you're in a band.  It's miraculous.
                             the person you are talking to can practically be asleep, but the moment you mention the
                            word 'band' they're awake, buying you a drink and holding your coat before you can say
                            'the ting tings'. [obviously this is a lie. The only things that do wonders like that are steroids
                            and/or Jodie Marsh walking through a retirement home holding cups of tea; and
                       c] I can't imagine spending this much effort/time doing anything else.

This is us playing in Japan obviously, with some people we found in the street who we taught to play the triangle and things.

THREE] The 'sad face' really does work.  I know that last week I perhaps gave away my weakness in a moment

             of madness [as mad as you can get at work at ten in the morning], but this week I fight back with my

             secret weapon.  The last few days saw me use it on a number of occasions, each with successful

             effect which makes me pretty sure that if the andrex puppy and I were in a sad face competition, I would

             win, but probably only because I could smile afterwards.  If the puppy smiled that would just be strange,

             and impossible, so it'd probably get disqualified, which means I would win anyway so...

This puppy is not sad, it's pissed off.

So there you have it.
I'm pretty sure next weekend will be more bountiful and I will learn a multitude of facts, like 'going out in London with a bunch of superheroes is a recipe for disaster'.

I'll keep you posted.
x

CHIP CHIPPEDY

MOST of my last week[end] was spent eating, sleeping, snacking and napping [I've probably been spending too much time around cats], swaying in a non musical related sense, and feeling particularly faint.
Whilst the Medieval scholars will put this down to the fact that I am a woman and am therefore more susceptical to an imbalance of emotion, I can assure you, it was jut a virus.  An incredibly annoying, ever persistent virus which rendered me almost useless for an entire week.

I think this is what my virus looked like.  Green and mean, but pretty bloody useless without hands.

As a result, the things I learnt were not parictularly useful, but knowledge is knowledge nonetheless and here are my top three nuggets of new information:

ONE] The guitarist who plays for Yann Tiersen must have been stolen, blindfolded, gagged, pumped with Red Bull
         and finally released on stage.  That or he really doesn't look around when he's playing.  Either way, this
         does not excuse the fact that he thought [wholeheartedly] that he was in Metallica or even, dare I say it,
         Slip Knot.  He wasn't wearing a hollwe'en themed mask, but i'm pretty sure that if he shook his head
         up and down one more time he would have spontaneously combusted.  That having been said, the gig itself
         was worthy of the near-to-passing-out moments I experienced, with new synth-pop twists on the old
         Tiersen classics such as 'La Valise d'Amelie' and incredible violin solos by Yann himself.  On the other
         hand, it did seem as though they'd just been thrown into a six storey music shop with an unlimited budget,
         bought every synth they found and hadn't had a chance to play with them 'til the set itself.  However fun to
         play, synth solos comprising of turning a dial round and round in [un]predictable outbursts does not =
         interesting five minute solo.  Regardless, Yann Tiersen's new album Dust Lane is definitely worth a
         listen, with particular favourites of mine being the almost Arcade Fire-meets-Explosions In The Sky anthem
         'Til The End' and the surprising [massive lie] crowd-pleaser 'Fuck Me'.

Yann Tiersen.  He does not like to pose much. At all even.

TWO] I can't say no to Potato. [Wow. A rhyming 'thing I have learnt'  This is now obviously worth two things.] I
         already knew this, but Saturday saw me devour an ungodly amount of chips after I had eaten and was
         already belly-bustingly full.  If there's potato in front of me I literally can't say 'no'.  So there you have it, my
         weakness.  Please don't exploit this, but I'm just saying...if there's anything you need to know, stick a bag
         of chips in front of me and I'll tell you EVERYTHING. [shh]

Squidgy chips in hearts shapes?! Just. Woah.

THREE] People actually liked the first real song of our band H E A R T S.  Thanks to everyone who's had a listen/
            sent me a message/joined the group.  More to come SOON.
            www.myspace.com/hearthesehearts

Also next weekend I have to go to a friend's 21st in fancy dress.
Outfit ideas will be very welcome.  And no I am not going as a chip.  Thanks.
x

'SIRAP' IS PARIS BACKWARDS. LIKE THE SUGAR.

THE last week or so has taught me an abundance of things with the common theme, you'd be surprised to hear[definitely sarcasm], of Paris; the city, not the Hilton, because that would just be untasteful and i'd probably catch something and end up in jail for drink driving for even mentioning her name more than once.
So in the list of things from one to 'i'm so learned i'm practically a library' i'm going to start with this:

ONE] The law which has recently changed in favour of allowing buildings in Paris to be taller than seven stories is
         a SILLY idea.  For years i've been trying to work out why, apart from the obvious beautifully formed
         buildings throughout the city, Paris always looks so picturesque.  Then one day whilst sipping some thé du
         menthe in a small café near the 16th it hit me.  It's the contrast of the piercing blue sky creeping around
         and over the buildings which are set against this magnificent backdrop.  It almost gives a sense of 'the rural'
         in the midst of this bustling, en vogue yet remarkably laid back city.  Allowing the buildings to get taller and
         taller will almost instantly hack away at the charm of Paris which rests amongst these classically coloured
         perfectly heighted houses/museums/cafés, therefore making me very sad, and no one needs to see that.
         Anyway, if you're reading this Sarkozy [he's definitely not], sort it out love.

More HERE

TWO] I love Pastry more than I ever new.  Don't come to Paris under any circumstances unless:
          a] you fully accept that croissants and pain au chocolats can only be eaten in batches of three.
          b] a pastry to accompany breakfast, lunch and dinner is just about enough to keep you going, but you
             could probably do with one more.
          c] you can walk past a patisserie and not flinch. [this one is particularly important. If you are in doubt as to
              whether you are able to do this, don't even attempt it.]

Hi breakfast.  Hi belly.

THREE] Everything sounds better in French.  Even 'I'd like to buy that baguette pen please' which, I must say,
             was one of the best finds of the year.  [it's literally just a pen that looks remarkably/deceptively like a
             real mini baguette]  Even the lady on the tannoy at the airport sounds like she's on a Galaxy Chocolate
             advert for a new bar that'll give you eternal youth. [a far cry from the 'moind your bags at all toimes pleys'
             of the less than architecturally brilliant Birmingham Airport.]

Don't even bother trying this because Galaxy lady will HUNT YOU DOWN.

FOUR] This week there's a four because, as someone kindly pointed out, none of this happened on an actual
            'weekend' in keeping with the rest of my posts.  So it gives me great pleasure to tell you that the fourth
            thing I learnt, and the only one of the weekend, is that I am incredibly excited about our new band
            H E A R T S.  Same people, better tunes, easier-to-spell name. SONGS TO COME SOON.
                                                   
                                                               MYSPACE        FACEBOOK

 SPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAMSPAM

Here's also to hoping I get to see Yann Tiersen this evening.
Bonne Journée!

Bis
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