Sunday, April 06, 2008
Chewing The Gum
Of course the new law is more the result of one councillor’s crusade after stepping in the sticky discarded stuff one time too many and will do little, if nothing to tackle the problem of the chewing gum mosaic pavements we have in the county.
Unless I’m terribly mistaken, it is against the law to discard waste onto the streets and yet a walk down Rhyl high street is more of a wade as you’ll find yourself knee deep in litter. How many times do you open the paper and read of a prosecution for littering the streets? One look at the swirling array of crisp packets and McDonalds cartons will tell you not very often.
It’s fine to spend time and money passing laws that will prove completely useless in the face of volleys of chewed up gum, but perhaps a different perspective on the problem should be taken – Chewing gum is obviously resilient stuff, it sticks to the pavement forever. Why not use it to tarmac the roads instead? You could even go as far as passing a law that only dark grey coloured gum is allowed to be sold in the county and therefore won’t show up on the streets!
Friday, February 29, 2008
Worming Books
What began as an idea to simply collate the information I have at hand on the link2wales website has become a mammoth task of interviewing and emailing countless people involved in the scene. Some have ignored my requests, but most have been more than helpful; excellent in fact, with a whole host of stories that'll make you laugh, gasp and read in disbelief.
It was a difficult decision to go ahead with the book - one publisher had offered me a far better deal if I had included the whole of Wales; but it was a deal not worth giving up work for, which is what I would have had to have done to take on such a task. Plus North and South Wales may as well be on opposite sides of the world. So North Wales it is - I'll probably be lucky to sell 500 copies, but it is something I've always wanted to do, something I've held close to my heart and something you'll really enjoy reading - when it eventually comes out...
If anyone has an idea for a title - please let me know...
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Democracy Phone In
Let's face reality here, anyone, and I mean anyone (over 18) can be a councillor if they have enough friends. I'm not certain of the figures but it would not surprise me in the slightest if some councillors are voted into their seat of power with fewer than a hundred votes. This is hardly representing the people of their ward, and I doubt that even 10% of a councillor's constituents could tell you the name of their representative (I couldn't!).
Why? Simple, dogs fouling pavements, planning approval for a new shop, Grading buildings, setting speed limits etc. Not really rivetting stuff is it! Apathy has for many years been at the heart of the British democracy. The general public don't really care, it doesn't concern them if Gordon Brown is running the country or if Gerry Forbisher is planting a token tree on the Ffrith. A 36% turn out at the last General Election and 40 of your mates to get you voted onto the local council. So along with democracy, fascism and communism, you also have Apathy as a new and very popular kind of politics because people would rather sit at home and watch TV.
That's the answer! TV! Political Big Brother, vote your worst MP out of the House; the public love doing things like that, and they'd even pay the premium phone-line rates to do so. I'm A Politician Get Me Outta Here, Play Your Councillors Right, Councillor Fortunes, Council Idol, Councillordown, The Weakest Link, One Man and His Councillor, Ant & Dec's Saturday Night Councillor, the list is endless and it would make voting far more fun!
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Casting The Crud
Last year, each show had more listeners, but only because there’d be a month (usually longer) hiatus between each episode, thus giving people longer to source the show. This year I’ve done it weekly – it’s decreased the number of listeners to each show, but the task is now to increase the awareness and bring in more listeners.So who exactly sits down and listens to what is really a specialist show? Probably the bands that are on it and other bands! When I say specialist, it’s not really that – it’s not like an hour dedicated to Brutal Hardcore or Back Street Colwyn Hip-Hop. Someone once described me as John Peel’s alter ego, and I guess Peel’s eclectic bent is there simply by the fact it was he who moulded my musical tastes through those influential teenage years.The length of the show was also a factor – there’s enough music at hand to go and on, but my time is limited and so is yours! So an hour a week is more than enough I think and it’ll fit nicely onto your iPod. The aim is to now establish CrudCast through the medium of myspace and link2wales and with flyers at gigs, and then eventually by advertising it in the music press.Let me know what you think…
http://www.myspace.com/crudcast
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Blu Was The Colour
We all raised a collective eyebrow when local promoter, Steve Rastin announced he was to put on gigs at Bar Blu. We all raised the other eyebrow when he said it was going to be on a Wednesday night.
Gigs? In a one horse town like Rhyl! On a Wednesday night? It wouldn't last... Well it didn't, but 5 years of entertainment, good nights, average nights and poor nights was a good run. We took the rough with the smooth and enjoyed and endured whatever and whoever Bar Blu hosted.
The venue, for all its bad points (bad sound, wrong shape etc) allowed three bands a week, every week to play. That's around 750 performances from touring Canadian professionals like Zeroscape, to the barely out of school locals like The 4 Sticks. Add to the list the live debuts of Gintis, Jives Room and Der Bomber amongst others who went on to release albums and record BBC sessions and you may see how vital this place had become to the local music community.
Times have changed though over the last twenty years; Rhyl used to boast more nightclubs than Jordan's had boob jobs, and most of them were open 6 days a week (the clubs, not Jordan's err...). Things seemed to turn over the millennium, maybe by coincidence or by public conscience. Tired of being charged high admission prices, even by pubs on New Years Eve, people discovered the fun of partying at home with friends, and also the financial and safety benefits of doing so. The clubs felt the pinch and one by one they began to disappear.
On a positive note, by the time you read this Steve Rastin will have struck a new partnership to continue his tireless work in promoting new music in the area.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Money Money Money
Back to the mortgage - why do we do it? To own our home? It's dead money, renting, they'll tell you; and yet on the continent it's what a larger section of the population do. You can tell people you've got a £100,000 mortgage, but the reality is you have a £250,000 mortgage because that's what you'll be paying back to your fat greedy mortgage lender over the next two decades. And may the Lord have mercy upon your soul if you fall behind with your payment. Perhaps you should look into the meaning behind the word 'mortgage' -
Mort is Latin for Death, and Gage is near enough to Gauge. Yes, you've got a £100,000 deathgauge - you work hard all your life, you own your own house and then you die. Was it really worth it....
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Radio One Blew Over The Cockoo's Breast
Twenty years of playing this track unedited hasn't really left the British listening public up in arms, or screaming 'Equal rights for faggots.' That's because the British public doesn't really care, or at least is not going to be offended by such a word. It takes you back to the days when the station had been playing Frankie Goes To Hollywood's Relax for weeks until DJ Mike Reid had a moment of realisation and learned that the song was filled with sexual connotations.
The Beeb has long seen itself as judge and jury to what we can and cannot hear. Radio does seem to be the last bastion of 'decency' - whereas on TV you can hear every word a 12 year old will look for in the Oxford Dictionary after the watershed, but you won't hear it on the radio - or very rarely anyway. This is quite remarkable when you consider that you're actually seeing and hearing someone swear on the box in the corner, but on the wireless it's deemed as too offensive.
TV has changed, some may say become more liberated over the years. The BBC used to show blockbusting movies carefully dubbed to alter the swear words. I remember watching Robo-Cop and rather than bleeping words like MF - they over dubbed them with 'Mother-Crusher' etc. This is despite the fact the film was full of gratuitous violence and mindless killing; but at least the British public could switch off the telly safe in the knowledge that if they're ever going to get the living daylights beaten out of them in the street by an easily influence kid, at least they won't be swore at...!
Monday, November 05, 2007
TV Eye
What I'm talking about is shite TV - I mean soap operas...
Coronation Street..! I was drawn to the wedding of the err... ahem... year between Sarah and Jason. It would be crap if they managed to get married without a hitch - what sort of soap opera would that be like...! Every single one has a dramatic wedding, be it Eastenders, Neighbours, Emmerdale, Eldorado, Holly Oaks etc etc...
Sarah has a deranged half-brother called David Platt (not the ex-footballer) played by the highly believable (for a soap star) Jack Shepherd.
The soon to be wedded couple are at the altar, but David has vowed [sic] to spoil their day and has gone missing, threatening suicide. Only Sarah and her mate know about this and tore up his 'suicide note.' Mother Gail Platt has informed the police that her son is merely missing and had taken his blue car.
As the ceremony takes place, David drives his car into the Manchester Ship Canal.
Now this is where the barely believable story becomes ridiculously unbelievable...
The police turn up at the wedding - insisting to speak to Gail Platt just as her daughter is about to take her vows. They tell her a blue car was seen only a few minutes earlier by a member of the public being driven into the canal...
Now hold on a minute... They hadn't seen the car themselves - the divers had yet to go in, and therefore the only news they had was from a witness. Find me a police force in the UK that would interrupt a wedding to tell the bride's mother that someone has reported (not found) a blue car being driven into a canal...? And also a police force would can act quick enough to discover that the family are at a wedding in a church and not at home.
What a load of bollocks, - at least Stacey shagging her new husband's Dad over on Eastenders was a little more believable, if not just as shite..!
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Nomadic Tendencies
The House of Crud, Crud Acres, Crud Towers and now Crud Cottage.. A nice little 5 bedroomed settlement in the village of Dyserth. A few paces up the road are two pubs, a little further is the spectacular waterfall we used in the Dimmock, Definately Dimmock sketch; the same setting we used to film The Alarm's single 'Raindown'. Across the road is the Alarm's rehearsal studios, where Martin Wilding busy's himself mixing and recording until I tempt him to the evils of the pub.
Crud Towers was a great flat - 3 huge bedrooms for the Crudlets to trash, but it was the location that let it down - bang in the centre of Rhyl. Fantastic for crawling home from a gig and a birds eye view of the Taxi Rank fights - but awful for parking, trying sleep at night and, well... its on the edge of the most socially deprived area in Europe - The West End of Rhyl...!
While I was on the move, so was North Wales gig promoter Blood & Lipstick; or Steve Rastin as he's known to his friends. He took the bold and brave decision to end a four year relationship with Bar Blu in Rhyl and take his operations to the newly vamped Billys on the prom.
I have always enjoyed a good relationship with Blu's Tony - I drink lots of his beer, provide him with alternative music for his sound system and review the bands who play there. So it was almost inevitable that he would ask me to promote bands when Steve pulled out. Under any other circumstances I would've been happy to help; not so much putting gigs on - life is stressful enough without adding to it..! Although I'm happy to continue as I have; reviewing, previewing etc.
The circumstances are thus...
'This town ain't big enough for the both of us...' Rhyl cannot sustain two regular band nights a week; let alone on the same night. Yes, Dave Cox and The Punk in Drublic contingent will continue with their own exclusive punk scene, spread across the coast, but two venues both putting on bands of the same ilk on the same Wednesday night...?
No, I Don't think so...
No, I know so...
The solution for Blu is to change their night, although Wednesday is the coolest night to go out these days, thanks to Blu and B&L - people go out for a purpose, most nobheads save their nobheadedness for the weekend and the scallies don't get their Dole money til Thursday, so Wednesday is not only cool, its pretty safe!
Billys Bar, like Blu is a trendy nightspot - and a bolt out of the err... blue when live nights were announced. There have been many who have courted Steve Rastin in attempts to lure his musical and promoting prowess away from Bar Blu, and someone finally came up with enough goods to make Adam eat the apple.
It had to taste good - the live nights were established; recognised on the UK's small band circuit and had a homemade crowd who were present for live music rather than a particular band.
So Billys Bar is like the next rung up, a proper live rig, lights, and big enough to attract bands up that next rung perhaps? The Cribs? Gossip? Wombats? Ting Tings? Holloways?
Add this to the dedicated Podcast that Green Dragon has done and you nearly have the complete package to attract more people and bigger bands. Me and The Dean will film a track next week and see if we can edit and process a YouTube video to boot...
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Poo Camp in Betws
“Dad, I need a poo.”
Not the most unusual sentence to hear from your seven-year-old — but when it comes just after midnight, in a tent, in a cold, dewy Welsh field, it hits differently.
I was only half-conscious, drifting in that foggy space between heavy sleep and stomach rumble. The quilt I’d brought as a mat had long been requisitioned for warmth, the tent was zipped tight on all sides, and the toilets were fifty metres away — across a stream, through knee-deep grass, and in absolute darkness. No lights. No moon. Just stars overhead and a near-dead rechargeable torch that had promised three hours but fizzled out after 35 minutes.
Cue emergency manoeuvres.
I wrestled with the sleeping bag zip. Then the tent zips — all three of them, stubborn and twisted like they had a personal vendetta. Meanwhile, Declan's voice was cracking with urgency, and I was scrambling for my trainers, now realising with cold clarity that I never untied the laces. Why? Why were they so tight?
Declan was now shaking. I picked him up and sprinted through the wet grass, shoes half-on, torch barely flickering. The stream trickled ahead — though in the moment it sounded like a raging torrent. Where was the narrowest crossing point?
Too late.
Oh dear...
Exhausted and freezing now, I quickly cleaned Declan up, closed the offending toilet door and carried him back on the return journey. Grass, stream, darkness.
We collapsed back into the tent, wrapped ourselves in the quilt, and, mercifully, the rest of the night passed without further incident.
The next morning, still bleary-eyed and damp-socked, we made our way back to the toilet block to freshen up. And there it was — Declan’s crime scene. His cubicle had been taped off with red-and-white barrier tape, a bold “OUT OF ORDER” sign slapped across the door like the aftermath of a gas leak.
Declan took one look, grinned, and declared proudly:
“I think my bottom exploded last night.”
📍 Location:
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wupting Back Ache
Anyway, I digress. I've really put my back [sic] into work this week and have suffered terribly. Someone told me most back sprains are caused when putting on your socks or underwear, this doesn't affect me as I never take mine off (heh heh heh!). Mine is caused by hard physical labour, and sitting here upright typing doesn't help either.
The only way I made it thru the day is with the trusted iPod - I've snared the computer speakers off the Crudlets' PC, plugged the iPod into them and voila! I can happily (happily? you are kidding...) tile away, free from wires. Today I listened to Green Dragon's Bite Size Bonus from last Tuesday. Gruff Rhys' excellent Candylion LP - the 14min song 'Skylon' is a masterpiece, and also listened back to my latest Crud Cast, which I recorded last night... Oh dear, it's a bit raucous innit?! Alcohol should be avoided when broadcasting - how many times did I say 'cunt' ? The music was ace though, Klaus Kinski are amazing! And in Captain Hotknives I think we've found ourselves regular entertainment....! Anyway, take a listen, you will regret it..!!
Alaska's WUPT have long been regular participants to my website and my show - and one sure way of getting airplay is to ply me with gifts - like a nice spanking new t-shirt...!!!!!

The teabags here at Crud Towers have run out, the fridge is void of milk, there's large spaces in the larder and I haven't had the time for shopping. The remainder of the bottle of whisky I nicked on the night of The Gathering (it's a long story) has to suffice as beverage - it's disgusting! How I long for a cup of tea.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
The Food of Love
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Video Killed The Radio Star
I stumbled across The Buggles on YouTube, playing that song live in 2004 - and yes it induces vasodilation and releases endorphins, but I was also taken aback by the actual performance, which was pretty phenomenal, unless I'm watching it through the huge tinted spectacles the singer is wearing.
Anyway, judge for yourself - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=laZw3Y3JCJ8
I've been hoisting myself back into editing videos, having being dealt a hefty blow last year, which quite literally turned my whole life upside down. Just finshed a Sons of Selina video that was recorded in 1998 - these are not high budget affairs (actually, they're no budget) and take a couple of hours to complete - The Alarm stuff I did last year would take anything up to a week a song sometimes! - But with these vids it offers a medium for bands to get their stuff seen, and I'm more than happy to get stuck into doing vids for bands - so please get in touch.
The Sons of Selina lyrics to 'Climb' perhaps befit the way I've felt perfectly.
Take a look and have a listen...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSEYJIi62wc
Friday, January 26, 2007
Swimming On Chief Brody's Day Off
It doesn't matter if the band is the Super Furry Animals from Bethesda who enjoy international stardom or Chwys Troed, also from Bethesda who split up after one rehearsal when the guitarist jumped up and smashed his mum's coffee table! Both bands have a place and deserve equal recognition on the site.
One person who I'm sure has achieved the award for being in more failed bands than anyone else (in North Wales) has to be Gav Lawton. He averages four, sometimes five bands a year - forming, building a website, changing the name, building a new website, losing the drummer and guitarist, changing the name, building another new website, splitting up, forming another band and so on ad infinitum...!
I do feel like sending him a bill for the time it takes to add and change the information, and for the bandwidth..!
Ok - Gav Lawton's previous bands.... Scramble Joe, Seattle Joe, Carbonari, Carl Hogan, Dekay, Dred, Longstay, Lucid, Up In Arms, Utopia, Pain Filtered Farm, Jinxed, Torn Asunder, Crumble.
Phew! And they're the ones I can remember! I'm sure there's more, and probably, no, there's definitely more bands listed there than they've collectively played gigs. But who cares? (Apart from my typing fingers!), that's what link2wales is all about; documenting the undocumentable!
Gavin's latest venture is called Swimming On Chief Brody's Day Off - check 'em out www.myspace.com/swimmingonchiefbrodysdayoff
Hope to see them live before they split up etc etc...
Monday, January 01, 2007
Teenage Angst
’I’d say I’m more Emo than Goth.’
She stated, and I thanked my lucky stars that she’s not into all that R’n’B rubbish and sugar coated mindless garbage that the mainstream want you to listen to.
The Music And Sound Experience (to give MASE its full title) began at the turn of the century, run by a few dedicated individuals intent on nurturing musical talent within the youngsters of the area.
Registered as a charity rather than a business, it has affordable recording facilities, a venue and a sound system most bands would die for.
In its embryonic days at the Conference Centre in Llandudno I used to attend and review the conveyer belt of bands that plied their wares to a thronging mass of youths, baying for an idol.
My reviews were honest; honest enough to receive angry emails from annoyed parents, ‘How dare you say my son can’t sing,’ etc.
If you tell someone they’re good when they’re not, the only favour you’re giving them is a boost of their ego. Tell them how it really is and they’ll hate you for it, but they’ll be more determined to do something about it next time.
Six years on from those early reviews, those band members will all now be in their early twenties, in further education, in better bands or flipping burgers. There’s a new breed now and I popped my head into the MASE venue in Old Colwyn the other night, looking for my daughter (the taxi meter was left running!). It was hard to find her amongst the throes of a hundred identical individuals, but I was taken aback by the superb sound coming from the stage. I think the band was Anglesey’s Entity, and having seen thousands of bands (usually 3 or 4 a week) it does take a lot for me to sit up and listen. I sat up and I listened. Excellent stuff, and I take my hat off to both the band, and to MASE for providing a great sound and an outstanding set up.Support it - http://www.myspace.com/masestudios
Neil Crud runs the www.link2wales.co.uk website
Sunday, June 11, 2006
86 Degrees Fahrenheit
The Alarm are playing Manchester Academy at the end of this month and Mike Peters approached us about doing a live webcast - but the expense including logistics may prove to be a little too much, but we’re going to film it anyway and do fast edits of some of the songs for web broadcasts – maybe a different song each day.
The ‘live’ version of the ‘Raindown’ video will also be up on the net soon – the single version of the song is far more powerful than the LP version – short and to the point.
Homespun's new DVD Badman has been delivered (it looks excellent). Complete Control's showcase DVD has also been delivered (it too looks excellent). And we're concentrating on getting the vids up onto our website as a showcase - cos we need more work!!
Sonic Boom Six have approached us about doing a vid for their forthcoming single - it's a dirty punk song, and although they come from Manchester they want to use Rhyl for the backdrop because of its scummy qualities - damn right!
The Racketears are also in the pipeline to do a video – look forward to that one.
Made my first on stage appearance in SEVEN years last night, guesting on vocals with PSST’s Paul Scouse and Dean Obscene for their version and reworking of the old Sons of Selina song ‘Creatures of The Night’. Everyone knows the song in Bar Blu thanks to ex-DJ Andy Baker playing it to death at the venue. Felt quite good to be up there, albeit for 6mins. I did initially fear it be a bit of a parody, particularly with PSST doing their ‘Now Is The Time’ World Cup song first, but backed by scouse band Sleeps With Fishes they performed admirably.
Ironically it was 14 years to the day that Paul Scouse knocked on my flat door in Butterton Rd, Rhyl to tell me he’d sacked me from the original PSST. The rest, they say is history!
Done another radio show; there’s some great music around and long may it continue. The MySpace revolution has had a lot to do with this incredible explosion. Excellent.
Monday, June 05, 2006
The Curry Continues...
I was up at 5.45am the next morning and necked nearly a litre of raspberry & cranberry juice and stumbled back into bed with heartburn. Getting up 45mins later, I made my vow - No more midnight curries!
Will I keep my promise…?
Saw 2 good bands at Blu last Wednesday (see reviews on my www.link2wales.co.uk website); both very young, Anubis and Jacobi filled the void left by the absent Three Minute Warning and did so admirably. And on Thursday I re-acquainted myself with old drinking buddy Dewi Gwyn (Anhrefn’s ex-guitarist) in Bangor and we saw Toadstool play in The Harp. I think I put Dewi in a bin the first time I met him; of course we’re more civilised now.
Rhys of Sibrydion had invited me to Ruthin on Friday to check out his band with a view to doing a live DVD. I changed my mind when he told me they were on at 11.30pm and it was the Eisteddfod. My memory of these events is hundreds of kids drinking, smoking, fighting and shagging. I’m all for the first and last factors, it’s the two in the middle that put me off.
I also missed The Dirty Weekend at The Dudley, Dave Cox always seems to manage to put it on to coincide when I have The Crudlets, and even though my 7 year old endlessly plays Sons of Selina and The Alarm, maybe an introduction to vomiting punks would prove to be a little too soon. So instead we sampled the delights of Bodelwyddan Castle where my 13-year-old daughter challenged me to game of chess on the huge outdoor board they have there and it took me hour to beat her.
Anyway, back to last night. I fancied a quiet couple of pints with Steve Sync, nothing serious, home for 10pm. So I picked him up at 7.45pm and he was pissed! He’d been out all afternoon. So we strolled into Wetherspoons in Rhyl and, although pretty quiet it was like a who’s who of Rhyl music! Sync (The Affliction), John Morris (Carpet), Andy Treadear and Ollie (Scott Bakers), Remo (Der Bomber) and myself (Pink Floyd). Once lubricated we headed to The North Wales and stumbled in to the Sunday night quiz; a very boisterous affair that we lost. Then back to Wethers ‘til 11.30pm then for that dreaded curry.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Viva Las Vague Arse
Came an American drawl as he walked passed Burger King in Las Vegas International Airport. Maybe some attitudes are changing in the US of A but that lone voice doesn’t speak for the 209 million people whose diet makes them walking miracles.
Having spent a week in the excess capitol of the world I’ve managed to put back on the stone I had lost, and that was with walking about 20 miles a day! Salad? What’s a salad? It’s actually that blood soaked green stuff you have on the side of your steak that the waitress wipes into the bin after your meal.
It took a good couple of days to adjust to the time difference, although having not slept properly for over a month I thought the 8 hours behind would not have mattered; but it did. More so to Steve Sync who not only suffered from jet lag, but also jet arse (sorry, ass!) and his daily quest to have a proper dump bore little fruit and the three huge meals a day piled up and up within him. It was Thursday’s intake of 911 Hot Wings at Hooters that did the laxing trick for him and he never looked back after that. The 911 wings (named so after the emergency services number in the States) is probably the hottest thing you’ll find to eat in Las Vegas (after the Hooters girls) as the Americans don’t seem to have spice on their menu. A visit to a mexican restaurant confirmed this when I requested my chicken fatijas nice ‘n’spicy,
‘No, you don’t want that sir.’
‘I do!’
I didn’t get it though. No, the Americans, or the Las Vegans at least like it with meat, rich and sweet (and weak lager), and that’s how it is. The steak is superb because the cows are well fed, but you can’t have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner unless you’re a body builder. Pancakes with maple syrup are a priority and even the world’s worst hangover couldn’t stop you drenching that syrup over the plate.
Myself and Sync needed a holiday, we’ve both been through the mill this year, due to one thing or another, we’ve worked hard, we’ve always played hard, so now was the time play a little harder. There was the option of a week in Spain, but we thought we’d look like two gays on the beach, then we thought of Amsterdam, but we’re filming Gong there for three days in November, then Sync came up with Las Vegas.
‘Las Vegas, what! All in for £512!? – Let’s go!’
If you’re 6’3” (as we are), you should have your legs surgically removed at the knees to accommodate a comfortable 10 hour plane journey. The makers of MyFlight aeroplanes must be blind lesbian dwarfs, MySpace, MyFlight, MyArse! A quick type of ‘Deep Veined Thrombosis’ into Google brings you directly to the flight operator’s website!
Las Vegas – the city that never sleeps, a fortune won and lost on every deal, The Strip, a four mile long High Street paved with gold and lined with the plushest hotels in the world. So how come we end up in a shack! America’s Best Value Inn – mould on the ceiling, crickets on the floor, tiles hanging off the walls. But who cares, we’re in Vegas!
Our first priority was food and we lunched in what would become a regular breakfast stop – Coco’s American Diner, which is EXACTLY like that ‘Any of you pricks move…’ diner on Pulp Fiction – EXACTLY. Uncannily in my back pocket is my wallet with ‘Bad Ass Mother Fucker’ stamped on it! Thankfully the diner wasn’t held up or robbed, although there was a sign in front of the till saying nothing higher than a $20 bill would be accepted during the graveyard shift.
Apparently pure oxygen is pumped through the floorboards of these countless casinos, to keep the gambler awake. There are no clocks – the city doesn’t sleep, although people do drift off at about 4am and things don’t get going until mid morning, but if you want to play roulette at 6am you can. We had a strategy; we were only going to play the tables on our last night, that way we wouldn’t end up skint half way through the week. So Saturday night we played Black Jack, minimum $10 bet. The pre-deal was that anything we won we would split 50/50. I bought $80 of chips and put $40 down on the first table and a couple of hours later walked away with $200. It was definitely beginner’s luck – 5 Black Jacks in one game! That was in the Mandalay Bay Hotel, also home to The House of Blues restaurant and venue, another regular haunt for ourselves. It was a cool bar decorated with bottle tops glued to the red walls in crucifix shapes and skulls painted everywhere. Downstairs was the venue, like a mini-Liverpool Royal Court hosting regular touring bands – this week its was POD, The Spazmastics, Jamie Callum and Ministry, the latter of whom we saw (see review). We also saw Arsenal limp out of the Champions League final at noon on Wednesday at the House of Blues; one of the few places to show soccer. The Americans don’t understand real sport! What’s all this American Football, Baseball and Basketball rubbish!? Every bar in town had one of them on. These hotels are not just hotels, they’re a community, a town, a leisure centre (sorry center) in their own right, and you can spend an entire day out of the blistering 104deg sun outside within the sanitised domains that this city has to offer. You can eat, gamble, drink, shop, swim, visit the zoo, go clubbing, see concerts, go the theatre all under one roof! Incredible!
More when it surfaces….
Friday, May 12, 2006
Spinning Home
Of course, the storyboard goes clean out of the window on the day! We had the band dressed with vicar collars playing in the back of this big van with 3 cameras on them and torches for lighting – the van was then driven over speed bumps and round corners, so the band were thrown around everywhere! Dunno what that’ll turn out like as most of the torches became unhinged!
The song is called Badman, so we introduced a bad man to the proceedings; a menacing character in white biohazard overalls and a rabbit face mask sprayed black. Bad man lurked, stalked and haranged the band throughout the rest of the day and the Gods were definitely looking down upon us at the Nova car park in Prestatyn as the fog came rolling in off the sea. We had originally planned to film the band outdoors at The Ffrith’s disused car park, but the barriers prevented us getting the van in (they’ve had Traveller problems there for years), so the fog set the perfect backdrop. More than perfect – fucking fantastic! A quick change for Terry, Damien and Tony into white shirts, ties and pants and they set up on the prom with this superb misty grey background. I had recorded 3 versions of the song – normal, twice as fast, half as slow (speed change in videos are all the rage) and the bad man should look pretty good doing weird things at different speeds to the band. We then used the sack abduction idea and one by one the band were picked off while playing. The fog on the beach was too good an opportunity to leave out, so the bad man and the band were filmed walking in and out of it. Homespun’s manager Steve also made an appearance dressed, bizarrely as a nun and, looked very disturbing in a Robbie Coltrane kind of way. For the finale we had the whole band being forced into the sack on the beach and bad man and nun tried despairingly to drag them of into the fog. Unfortunately the bastards were far too heavy, so Terry was left in there and dragged off instead.
The autograph hunters got their momentos and we headed home.
Crew for the day: Terry Foster (Homespun / voc,gtr), Tony Tuna (Homespun / drms), Damien (Homespun / bass), Steve Semichilled (Homespun / manager, nun). 1000 Words - Paul Sutherland, Neil Crud, Gordon Hardman, Rob Mediapod, Sparky. And, of course Bad Man.
Great day – it’ll be an even better video!
The day after headed to The Vic in Menai Bridge for a BBC Radio Wales live broadcast featuring Akira The Don and Brave Captain (review). Met Sync off the train station (as I was already in Bangor) and had a pint and chat with Alan Holmes (of Ectogram) and Huw Prestatyn (from Rhuddlan!). Then bombed it back to Rhyl for 11.20pm to Bar Blu, to catch Jives Room (review) in robust form.
And hurrah!! – Finished The Alarm’s ‘Raindown’ video – Paul Suths came round and with a little tweaking he gave the nod!! Yes at last! He’s taken the tapes for the remainder of the Gathering electric to edit, as it’ll give the final version a touch more variety. I’ve still got the acoustic night ones and my G5 is off to my Nain’s for the week I’m in Vegas (for safe keeping).
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Curried
Also showed Paul Raindown, but he’s still not happy with it, Paul’s looking for less lip-synch and more broad concert shots. Mike Peters phoned me asking about it as well – so I nipped round to his rehearsal rooms and we watched it with tour manager Liam and a loitering Kirk Brandon. They were basically of the same thinking; more ‘great’ shots and less lip-synch. The single comes out in the States next month and they’re going to use the video off the Under Attack DVD as the main promo and use this ‘live’ one for the website.
Mike is off to New York week after next, while I’ll be in Las Vegas, so we’re going to get together in the next few days and do a preliminary for the Gathering video – basically to see how we piece the songs together – it’d be nice if we could do something a bit different rather than your average live video. Yes, the editing I’ve done so far is very different to your standard concert vids (and far better, even if I say so myself), there’s more feeling gone into them – passion, because that’s how I feel about music, that’s how Paul Suths feels as well; so it’ll always be 1000% from 1000 Words! (Marketing campaign being drawn up right now!).
Kirk Brandon is off on a European tour with Spear of Destiny so I gave Liam a copy of PSST’s video ‘Now Is The Time For England’ on the premise that its played on the big screen before the gigs!
Paul and Rob will be finalising the Complete Control Music (CCM) DVD – building a menu, EQ-ing the sound and matting the videos – hopefully on Friday.
Headed to Bar Blu for a Wednesday night of loud music – saw Glyn Bailey open up, even though watching acoustic sets is against my religion, he was ok – me and Ste Sync even clapped after 2 of the songs. Holyhead’s Hansons, DeMask played next – and had the sparse (by comparison with the last 2 weeks) crowd, leaping around. Amy’s voice is getting stronger (she is only 16 and about 2’4” !!) and you can’t fault their playing abilty – its technically spot on – the covers are getting less and their own material is far better live than on MP3. Unfortunately too many late nights and hardly any sleep got the better of me, so it was a garlic chicken madras hot at midnight, tucked up and fast asleep with half an hour.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Hank Bolliday
Enjoyed the stuff I played - love that Physicists 'Brad Pitt' song, superb. Love The Racketears, oh just love it all... summer of love coming up, or is it summer of mud? Nah, not for me - well, not at V this year cos I ain't going.
I am however off to Las Vegas in a couple of weeks with Steve Sync - strictly business, not pleasure - we're on a mission to see how much money we can lose.
I made a welcome return to BBC Radio Wales last night - with a new half hour stint on Adam Walton's Show - this time playing new stuff, rather than the retro I was previously doing. New music really excites me! (in a loin-cloth kinda way) - played BLACK BOX THEME, OYSTERBOY, DALE DAVIES and DELTA NINE with at least 2 (maybe 3) of them getting their 1st airplay - and deservedly so.
Felt really good to be back on the radio and Walton and I sounded almost professional (almost).
Did The Alarm single 'Raindown' for the second time after Paul Suths said the first one wasn't up to our high standards. Can take criticism 2 ways - you can sulk, or you can take heed and do better. I took heed and did better - at least I hope so - looks much better now.
Awaiting RACKETEARS tapes to finish the Complete Control showcase - all looking good so far.
Had a final meeting with Homespun over their forthcoming video - we start filming on May 9th.
Also looks like we're filming a 3 day GONG festival in Amsterdam in November... Cosmic...
Sunday, April 23, 2006
The Week That Was
Met with Homespun, we're going to be doing a video for their song 'Badman' - filming in 2 weeks.
Mike Peters dropped off a copy of the single mix for 'Raindown' - it's shorter and more to the point than the LP version. I think its going to be a download only single, and The Alarm want a Gathering video of the song and a montage of the forthcoming Gathering DVD.
Nearly finshed 'Rescue Me', but like I said, it's been a hard week.
Started on Portrait of A Lifetime - using them as a tester for the ninja caveman footage we caprtured last year - looks good. Me and Paul also finished editing Tonnica's track for Complete Control Music - didn't use Rob's footage after all - looks great, and really like their approach.
Saw The Affliction at Bar Blu last Wednesday, great set - they've come on well these last few months - the blending of Moo's Kinks outlook on life with Steve and Cumi's Sons of Selina influence has worked well.
Ephesus were ok and Tom's Huge Elevation from France were pretty decent, like a garagey Jesus & Mary Chain - only with 2 female guitarists. Birds are great!
Watched Liverpool do Chelski in the FA Cup semi-final, well, from the comforts of The Swan in Rhyl - I did have a ticket but sold it yesterday morning.
The drinking started at 5pm and we stayed out, heading for The Dudley to see Sonic Boom Six, Juz, Random Hand and Scott Bakers - don't remember much cos I was very very drunk at the time...
Friday, April 14, 2006
Whatso Good About Friday?
Going to have a Gathering meeting as I'm on song 16 (out of about 40) and think the others should do some as well - it'll make it a bit more interesting also.
Did another radio show - quite enjoyed it. Also had a call off Adam Walton - I start a new slot on his Sunday night show in a couple of weeks - seeking out new talent from the North Wales coast.
Right - need to go now and think about the bassist from the Bitchpups for a short while...
Friday, April 07, 2006
1000 Jobs
I've left the PSST editing to Paul Sutherland and Rob, it should be done by the early hours - see! I'm not that stupid! While they're busily chopping away, I'm relaxing with a bottle of wine in one hand and Green Wing on the telly! - Well, that and the fact that the Crudlets aren't very well today, oh, and I've had the 'flu.
The PSST video is looking excellent, the hardest thing is finding footage of Paul Scouse where he doesn't look like a football hooligan! Dean surprisingly looks just plain silly rather than intimidating, and Bob (of Carbon Atom) looks cool. But its the kids that make the video - they look great. Yes there are some ethics involved, when a Scouse connected band are in the last 32 of The Scum's Football Anthems competition, but I suppose it's their money (The Scum's) that PSST would be taking if they won. I hope they do...
Sent a demo edit of Sonic Boom Six to their manager this evening, it was pretty hard to cut down (as will the Complete Control stuff at the same gig) as the venue wasn't really blessed with lights or people! So it'll be a pull out all the stops effort to get that best clip! The demo looks pretty good tho' nice and choppy for that punk/ska Senser type feel the band portray.
Bumped into Tom Scriven (ex Carbonari / Black Swans) at Bar Blu last Wednesday, he was wearing a hat and it wasn't for a good few minutes of chatting away to him that I realised I wasn't talking to Leigh Cox!!!! Alcohol is ace innit....
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Final Cut Slow
I've tried cleaning out my systems - although not a complete expert on Apple Macs (I use the G5 solely for video editing - the PC is for EVERYTHING else) - it didn't work.
I've tried to create an oldy-worldy effect on the opening this next song and it looks great but the G5 Mac just won't play it - I've reduced the frame rate, the compression - tried to get it to Print To Video - everything, but it won't play back. But a study of t'internet lead me to Larry Jordan's FCP website and it turns out that the program struggles if you're down to your last 15% of space on your hard drive, Mine's a 200GB and I'm down to 30% left - so I guess its time to give ex-GMX Stuns bassist, Steve Buckley some more of my cash and purchase another drive from his shoppe The Computer World in Colwyn Bay.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Dairy of a madman
Updated the link2wales site immensly this week - having 'flu does have its advantages!
Did my radio show - started leaving it to every couple of weeks as I found doing it weekly was a chore rather than the fun it should be - so there's no pressure now - if I'm busy it can wait - if I'm not then I'll spring one on you... Not sure how many listeners I get - my figures of people listening in through my http://www.link2wales.co.uk website is about 500 a week - but it can also be heard thru http://www.greendragonradio.com and podcast - so it could be hundreds, thousands or just two more! - Who knows, who cares...
Hard working for 1000 Words Productions on video materials - I'm on The Alarm's Gathering, which we filmed last January - I'm up to song 15 on the Saturday night of the gig (Rescue Me) - all looking pretty good so far - been watching videos of other bands for inspiration, some are very mundane - so I try to add an extra edge to the edits without going over the top. So far so good - even if the G5 Mac is struggling with the latest song as I've piled loadsa filters onto it to try and make it look like an old film.
Paul and Rob have chopped one of Sonic Boom Six's live songs from the gig we filmed last Saturday in Conwy Civic Hall - unfortunately their manager Liam phoned to say they'd like us to do the song 'Your Daddy Was a Punk Rocker' - so we'll have to do that one instead.
The twosome have also made strides on PSST's video, which we filmed the week before SB6 - its their song for England's World Cup (err) dream - you can vote for it on The Sun website http://www.thesun.co.uk/anthems (DO IT NOW!).
Also got Tonnica, Iris, Killionaire and The Racketears to do videos for - its all filmed, just gotta get PSST and SB6 out of the way first - should be good fun.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
V Festival 2005 – A Stag Weekend in a Field
We descended en masse: myself (Neil Crud), The Secretary, Steve Sync, Fairziff, Trevski, Jules, Stack, Pauline, Will, Pippa, Gaz, Jess, Richard, Joyce, Graham, Linda, Gareth, and a few more who melted into the blur. Arriving early Friday, Fatman upset the neighbours by claiming an oak tree as his own and shifting a few tents to establish “The Stag Tree Village.” Stack’s chemical toilet spared the ladies the horrors of festival latrines, while Fatman stocked up on his annual Imodium-and-bananas diet to avoid shitting until midweek.
Friday Night – Cans, Barriers, and Volvic Branding
Friday night is for drinking, not bands. By 3pm our 48-cans-each strategy was in full swing. The V rules forbid booze in the arena, but Andy Fatman was determined to cheat the system. His first attempt went spectacularly wrong: stumbling in his “cunted state,” he brought down an entire barrier and exposed his contraband to security, who pounced screaming, “He’s got cans!” No shame in that – but every other time he sauntered through, sometimes with ten Carlings stashed about his person. Legend.
Inside, we hit the corporate-branded Volvic Tent (remember when festivals weren’t full of bottled-water sponsorship?). A few years earlier it would’ve been all hoodies, whistles, and thumping house, but 2005 was the year guitars reclaimed the dancefloor. Instead of “bang bang bang,” we had 5,000 voices belting I Predict A Riot and Roll With It. Indie was king. House was dead.
Saturday – Bands, Booze, and Prodigy Firestarters
Stag weekend rules dictate: wake up hungover, crack open a can at 6am, repeat. By Carling No.4, Fatman was crafting a cardboard drumkit for Gaz while boasting he had “red wine, wet wipes, and Rohypnol in case he got lucky” (Abi Titmuss being his highly questionable target).
Musically, we swerved the main stage (“Rooster can suck my corporate cock,” declared Fatman) and made for the Channel 4 tent. No Hope For New Jersey claimed to be the saviours of rock ’n’ roll – perhaps a touch optimistic. El Presidente followed, and their Bryan Ferry–styled frontman and infectious glam-funk hooks had the tent bouncing. A surprise highlight.
The Frames provided a lull – my notes from then include gems like “Andy needs a wank on his own shit” and “Old women’s witch tits.” Blame the cider. The Ordinary Boys passed me out completely, though Fatman thought they were “fucking ace.”
The night belonged to The Prodigy. Tens of thousands packed in for Keith Flint’s return. Firestarter lit up with a flare in the crowd, and the whole field convulsed. Punk energy fully restored.
Sunday – From Goldie Looking Chain to Oasis (Yawn)
The Stands opened Sunday with a typical Scouse Zanzibar sound – all Beatles echoes and Zutons cameos. Then came Goldie Looking Chain, safe-as-fuck dole wallers from South Wales, shouting about “No Win No Fee” and batter-based sexcapades. Comedy genius.
Elsewhere, Good Charlotte tried their best – Sync thought they were “a breath of fresh air” before revising his opinion to “spleen-churningly average.” The Bravery split the camp (“Duran Duran from New York” vs. “total ROCK show”), while Kaiser Chiefs proved why I Predict A Riot was the anthem of the year.
By contrast, The Streets fell flat (“a poor man’s Goldie Looking Chain”), and when Oasis ambled onstage, even Cigarettes & Alcohol couldn’t hide the fact that the Gallaghers looked bored stiff. We bailed for The Chemical Brothers – impressive beats, but watching two blokes press play hardly screamed “live.”
True salvation came in the form of Robert Plant, striding through Gallows Pole like the legend he is. A brief, glorious moment of history amidst the corporate indie gloss.
Mud, Piss, and Stag-Do Glory
As the heavens opened, washing 60,000 gallons of accumulated piss across the site, even our mighty oak tree surrendered. Tents collapsed, cans floated, and we drowned in lager, mud, and laughter.
V Festival 2005 was bloated, oversold, and corporate as hell. But it was also a stag do, a reunion, a drunken circus of smuggled Carling and rock ’n’ roll chaos. Fatman wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
V Festival 2003 – Weston Park Review
Three days of cider, drunkeness, campervans, and corporate-sponsored madness – welcome to V2003. By now, the Fatman crew, Crud, Sync, Fairziff and assorted hangers-on had festival survival down to a science: arrive early, pitch the tents before the Strongbow takes hold, and dive headfirst into the weekend with no thought for livers or long-term damage.
Friday Night: Warm-Up Mayhem
The festival began the way all good ones do – raiding the fences into the campervan site, hooking up with the Fatman clan and their converted removal vans complete with sound systems, and sinking enough booze to forget which field you’re in. Friday was less about music and more about setting the tone: overindulgence, near-misses (Mrs Fatman narrowly avoided concussion from a falling fence panel), and the first of many late-night parties.
Saturday: Saxophones, Scousers & Strongbow
The Zutons had the honour of opening the NME Stage, proving Liverpool still had a stranglehold on the UK indie scene. Their funky guitar-sax combo divided opinion but “Pressure” hit hard enough to get early heads nodding. The Stands followed with a laid-back Cast-like sound, while The Coral later in the day showed exactly why they’d risen above their peers – effortlessly pulling off their psychedelic shanties to a huge crowd.
Not every blast from the past worked though. James in ’01 had been euphoric, Happy Mondays in ’02 chaotic but fun – this year’s retro slot was Inspiral Carpets, and it was awkward. Like watching your mate’s dad dance at a wedding, the nostalgia curdled fast.
Morcheeba restored some calm with dreamy grooves, while elsewhere Echo & The Bunnymen’s greatest-hits swaggered into the weekend, Mac’s voice still commanding and Will Sergeant’s guitar sharp as ever. For many, that was the real Saturday highlight.
But not for all. While the Red Hot Chili Peppers pulled a suffocating crowd on the main stage – so packed the big screens were the only way to see them – a couple of thousand made the smarter choice. Over on the NME Stage, Underworld delivered the weekend’s true revelation. With lasers slicing the night sky and “King of Snake” rattling bones, Karl Hyde and Rick Smith turned V into a rave cathedral. By the time “Born Slippy” erupted, it was clear: the lucky few who skipped the Chilis had witnessed the set of V2003.
Sunday: Killing Joke & Coldplay Clashes
Sunday started with bleary breakfasts cooked on Fairziff’s trusty VW stove and more cider to wash away the hangovers. Echo & The Bunnymen set the tone with another soaring set, and Damian Rice plus Athlete kept things mellow for those still piecing themselves together.
But the day belonged to Killing Joke. Jaz Coleman stormed onstage in war paint and bone-strewn robes, leading the band through a blistering half-hour that spanned new anthems (“Blood On Your Hands,” “Total Invasion”) and classics like “Wardance” and “Requiem.” It was ferocious, theatrical, and all too short.
Later, Goldfrapp’s lush electronica washed over the dance tent like a dream, while Turin Brakes impressed against the odds with a packed crowd despite Foo Fighters dominating the main stage. Coldplay headlined to the largest audience of the weekend, but not everyone was convinced – some of us slipped away to a nearby bar where the DJ spun Joy Division and The Undertones instead, a far better soundtrack for Coldplay refuseniks.
Feeder closed the NME Stage with a tight, uplifting set that proved them festival headliner material, ending Sunday on a high before the inevitable stumble back to camper parties and more late-night chaos.
Monday: The Hangover Epilogue
By Monday morning Weston Park was a wasteland of litter and broken tents. Bacon butties with chilli sauce softened the blow as the last of the gang packed up, swapping favourite moments and crowning the best festival T-shirt spotted all weekend: “Midgets Make Me Laugh.”
Verdict
V2003 had everything – the highs of Underworld, Echo & The Bunnymen, and Killing Joke; the lows of Inspiral Carpets trying too hard; and the chaos of campervan raves, bungee cages, and Strongbow-fuelled stupidity. It was messy, funny, occasionally transcendent, and above all a reminder of why we keep coming back: for those rare “festival moments” when the music, madness, and mayhem all line up just right.
Tuesday, July 30, 2002
RANT about Cocaine Festival headline in Daily Post
In what was an absurd attack on the hugely successful Wakestock Festival held last weekend near Abersoch the Daily Post newspaper sank into tabloid journalistic hell in a pathetic attempt to boost circulation sales. The headline ‘Cocaine Festival’ greeted readers on Monday morning & the following 2 pages illustrated how shocked reporter Hugo Duncan uncovered ‘Drugs chaos at North Wales surfing event.’ What a pile of complete bollocks. It’s patently obvious this journalist either has aspirations of working for The Sun or thought a rock festival was something Bryn Terfel holds for his opera friends every year.
Wednesday, August 22, 2001
CrudCast #3
Just went out tonight, and what a mad mix it was. Streaming quality is still ropey as hell — sounds like you’re listening through a wet sock at 24k — but that’s the state of the net in 2001. Doesn’t matter though, because the content carried it, well almost...
We kicked things off with The BT Call, still the funniest phone rage ever captured: some poor chimp at BT phoning an angry Geordie who threatens to wring his “scrawny fucking neck.” Proper gold.
Then it was into the music:
-
FLINCH – “Lucky”
Wrexham lads, smartly dressed, semi-metal with a melodic crunch. “Lucky” is their best tune so far — tight, heavy, catchy. -
CARPET – “One Two Fuck You” (Live)
Straight out of Rhyl, recorded at The Breeding Ground. Rough, loud, and couldn’t care less. Pure live chaos, bottled. -
HYFRYD
From the warped head of Johnny R-Bennig, all the way from Gwalchmai. Twisted, surreal, and sounds like it was beamed in from another planet, as was Johnny. -
SKINFLICK – “Two Ton Loser”
Bangor’s mutant industrial punk crew, always up to strange nocturnal antics. They don’t play by anyone’s rules, and this track proves it. -
HOBO – “Trencherman”
Ended on something special. “Trencherman” is just wonderful — deep, sprawling, and sticks in your head long after.
So yeah, that was the show. Rough stream, local bands, weird humour, angry Geordies,
[AUDIO LONG SINCE REMOVED - NOTHING LASTS FOREVER - YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT BY NOW]
Thursday, August 02, 2001
Legacies
Today was Nain Betws’ funeral — a solemn moment for Kev’s family, and one more in what’s become a sad pattern these past four years: the only time they all seem to gather anymore is to either marry or bury someone. A clan of professional mourners almost, not by choice but by frequency. It’s tragic how often grief brings people together when everyday life never quite manages to.
I didn’t go to the funeral. Declan's child-minder is on holiday, which meant there was no one to look after him, so the boy and I stayed put. Later, we’ll take a walk up to Knees Up Mother Brown in Betws-yn-Rhos — not to drown anything in drink, but maybe to reflect, remember, and let life carry on in its own messy, unpredictable way.
I’ve always found funerals to be strange rituals. Are they meant to help us mourn someone’s passing, or celebrate the life they led? And once you're gone, what’s left of you, really? A fleeting thought, maybe — a moment someone has when they pass by your old house, or a name that lingers in a half-remembered anecdote. Is that your legacy? Shouldn’t it be something that lives longer and louder?
I sometimes wonder if even someone like Hitler obsessed over that same question — the desire not to be forgotten, regardless of the cost.
I know some people who actually scan the obituaries looking for a funeral to attend — to offer support, maybe, or just to break the routine. Me? I’d rather mourn in my own way, in my own space, without the religious pageantry or platitudes. Let me reflect on someone’s life in silence, or through stories, not hymns. I saw it with Malcolm — the church service wasn’t for him, but done to keep his mum happy. It was a strange compromise: grief dressed up in someone else’s rules.
It makes me think — when I go, how should I say goodbye? Should I plan it in advance? Make it something unorthodox and wild just to throw a wrench in the system? Or should I just leave it up to whoever’s left behind to sort it all out?
But if I do that, there’s a real risk that some vicar will step in to exploit my death — to milk the moment for comfort and control, turning my absence into a platform for their own beliefs.
Maybe I’ll sidestep it entirely. Maybe I’ll just donate my body to science — let a group of medical students have a good laugh flicking my eyeballs across the lecture theatre or playing rugby with my brain. That’d be a send-off no priest could hijack.