Article I wrote for Rhyl Journal - Bistro Reunion

 

thebestvandals.co.uk

I got this 'fantastic' offer today on the fax... So I looked up the company, found their fax number and took them up on their offer... They've not replied yet....

15 Crashtestdummy Rd

Colwyn Bay

SP4 4FF

30.11.15

Dear Sir / Madam

Thank you for sending me an unsolicited fax from your company www.thebestvandals.co.uk.

I feel I need to complain bitterly because I dispute your claim at being the best vandals in the UK as my younger brother is a master at it.

Only last week he managed to graffiti the inside of Colwyn Bay Police Headquarters, smash all the windows in an old people’s care home and ‘key’ eleven cars in one street.

I see you have the Citroen Berlingo at £239 - is that a figure he would get for wrecking the said vehicle? As there’s a showroom nearby and he could do 20 or so overnight and clean up (so to speak). Would the damage include slashing the tyres as well?

If you are serious about your claim about being the best vandals in the UK then I suggest we arrange a vand-off. Perhaps the first to make news in the Daily Mail ?

I await your reply…

Many thanks

Joy Milward

Food Waste Bags

Dear Conwy Borough Council,

I am writing to complain about the utterly appalling quality of your Food Waste Bags.

If I am lucky, I can get 1 in 3 three to snap off the roll intact and use, but even then there's a chance it'll be useless.

It states on the bag 'KEEP AWAY FROM CHILDREN & BABIES - DANGER OF SUFFOCATION' - This is surely a breach of the trades description act? As a child-minder I have tried several times to suffocate the little critters with your bags but to no avail, they are absolutely crap.

Please can you perhaps find a better quality supplier for your Food Waste Bags next year rather than trying to cut costs and still putting our taxes up...?

Thank you

B.Wastraffu

This week in words - (RIP Bryn Merrick)

Busy week in the world of how we rock and how we roll… and by the end of it I felt about ten years older, deafer, and slightly more confused about how any of us manage to function in this so-called “scene.”

Most of the week was spent wrestling with the finishing touches of the new link2wales compilation, This Patch Of Land. Seventeen bands. Seventeen different levels of disorganisation. Trying to get them all to send artwork, approve tracks, or even reply to a message felt like trying to herd drunk cats across a minefield. I swear, if there’s a purgatory reserved for music people, it’s project managing a compilation album.

Saturday (Sept 5th) brought Spam Javelin’s fifth gig at The Dirty Weekend, now relocated to Chester Lakes after Rhyl’s venues finally out-shitted themselves into irrelevance. We were on at 3pm in a tent, which was fine, except we nearly didn’t get there thanks to a tyre blowing out so badly it was down to the bare thread. There’s nothing quite like changing a tyre with a knackered back while all your amps sit in the boot smirking at you.

We made it, played hard, and even enjoyed it—though the main-stage band had overrun their slot, meaning half the potential crowd didn’t even know we existed. Then, as if things weren’t irritating enough, I later found out the drunk drummer from Vitriolic Response had been wandering around telling people we were sexist homophobes. A bold accusation from someone whose band name sounds like a medical condition. What a fucking wanker.

Sunday was a different story entirely. I took my two-year-old along and we soaked up the vibe properly—lentil curry, sunshine, wandering about, the whole deal. Emissaries of Syn tore through a blistering set at 1pm, despite the suburban local Nazis complaining about the noise from inside their beige living rooms. I picked up a pile of vinyl, books and zines, then went home and updated my very, very anal Bands Seen List—which now sits at a mighty 2031. My ears ring constantly and, being in a hardcore band, I’ve fully accepted that I’m fucked.

Music-wise, I’d been listening to an advance stream of the debut St Pierre Snake Invasion album. Proper good stuff. The only downside is modern technology itself—no CD, no vinyl, just a link. Everything’s a bloody link.

Tuesday was a proper high point. Took my daughter Marni to Manchester Academy to witness the phenomenon that is Future Islands. They were fucking ace. Saw them last year, before they blew up, when you could still feel like you were in on the secret. Not quite the same intimacy this time—no one shouting “C’mon Gwaenysgor! Let's make some fucking noise!”—but still small enough to make eye contact with the band. Support came from Du Blonde (solid) and Dope Body, who were disjointedly brilliant. I even haggled two albums off them for a tenner each, proving I can still barter like a dad at a car boot sale.

Thursday (10th) brought another Spam Javelin show, this time at The Skerries in Bangor. Good crowd, good energy. Addicted To Fish were their usual amiable selves. Bad Excuses didn’t show up—possibly because I’d mentioned the number of covers they play and their bassist got a bit feisty about it. Probably for the best; could’ve been an “interesting” evening. Daf Jones opened on acoustic, but I was so wrecked I slept in my car instead. That’s rock'n'roll life for you—sometimes you miss the opener because unconsciousness wins.

And then today (Saturday) hit hard. Bryn Merrick—ex-The Damned—passed away from cancer. Proper gut punch. He was always the friendly face during that mid-’80s Damned era. Once, after a gig, he even let me autograph his arm. A sweet, solid bloke. Another good one gone.

Debt Collectors

I regularly receive this fax, it arrives the first week of every month... It's spam, and yeah I know we all have a need to advertise our products from time to time and it just so happens I needed a debt collecting...
So I contacted them...

15 Credibility Street

Colwyn Bay

CA5 H4U

First Legal Services (UK) Ltd

01.09.15

Dear Sir / Madam

Thank you for sending me an unsolicited fax entitled ‘Are You Owed Any Money?’

It just so happens that my brother borrowed £5 off me 3 years ago and has made so many excuses that I’m led to believe he is never going to pay me back.

He once lent me his pocket money (£3.50) so I could buy a Panini Football Stickers album (1989) on the promise that I repaid him an extra 50p in interest. I did this as soon as I received my paper-round wages (£6) the following week.

The sticker book was brilliant, but I never managed to complete it as Bradley Allen and Paul Parker were so hard to get hold of, and no amount of swapsies could get me those two players, which is remarkable as neither were that good really. I mean, I know both played for England at senior level, but they were no Lineker or Hoddle were they?

You wouldn’t happen to have either or both of them would you?

With regards to my brother’s debt, do you offer a roughing up service? Nothing too extreme, maybe just a facial scar or possibly a broken limb (preferably right arm).

I would still like the full £5 back with three years interest, but would be willing to waive the interest if he feels some degree of pain.

Many thanks

Ieuan Dai Tree


Then I realised I needed another debt collecting.
So I contacted them again..

15 Facsimile Grove

Colwyn Bay

CA5 H4U

First Legal Services (UK) Ltd

01.09.15

Dear Sir / Madam

Thank you for sending me an unsolicited fax entitled ‘Are You Owed Any Money?’

It just so happens that I am owed money by a company called First Legal Services (UK) Ltd who regularly send unsolicited faxes to my machine.

This has happened once a month every month for the past two and a half years, which equates to thirty faxes; or, if you like, a third of a ream of A4 paper.

Today’s price for a ream of A4 photocopier paper amounts to £1.48, so a third of this would be 49p owed to myself. I am willing to waive the price of the ink and the wear and tear to my fax machine, but as I have paid for this paper myself in 2013 I am going to have to charge you interest on the amount.

Using Wonga as an interest loan rate guide at 5,853% this amounts to a total of £71.69.

However, due to the high amount of A4 paper that has been wasted because of the unsolicited faxes sent to me by First Legal Services (UK) Ltd for the past 30 months, I now have Greenpeace camped outside my office in protest over the amount of trees being cut down to make paper.

The camp of four protesters has now been here for eight months and being conscientious, I have made them cups of tea three times a day every working day (5 days a week, ½ day Saturday) and I have also given their dog the occasional Chocolate Hob-Nob.

I’m willing to waive the Hob-Nobs on the grounds that dogs shouldn’t really eat chocolate as it plays havoc with their digestive system, which I found out much to my own detriment.
However, the average kerbside price for a cup of tea is £1.50, and I have on record that a total of 173 cups were made for the protesters over this period (it would have been more but one of them, Angel, had to help save a beached dolphin in Rhos-On-Sea last week).
This amounts to £259.50 plus Wonga’s reputable interest rate equals £10,125.69 making a grand total of £10,197.38.

Please would you be kind enough to begin proceedings to collect this fee from First Legal Services (UK) Ltd with immediate effect?

Many thanks

Frank Calabrese


Still not heard back from them....

Fingertip Music

Amazing how technology moves at a pace... From the days being a kid with a tape recorder, finger poised on the REC button, hoping John Peel would play something recordable, to today, where you can get almost EVERYTHING that's ever been recorded - ON DEMAND...

It's brilliant... Also a bit sad, as a mission to fond something you liked or wanted, was part of the fun... Ordering 7" singles from dustbin record companies for £2 (including postage)...
Of course, ordering 7" singles (or vinyl) has once again come back into fashion, and I rue the hundreds upon hundreds of vinyls I sold on eBay all those years ago (despite the filthy profit).
Vinyl has taken such an upturn that I was at a gig the other night and the merch stalls all had vinyl (even cassettes!) and no CDs - also, the bulk of the vinyls come with a unique download code, so you can listen on your iPods etc.

Music is now at your fingertips -
Minus vinyl, the pic above is a 'scrobble' on Last FM that details what I listen to thru my PC... this is what I've played in the last 7 days...

The Woggles are an amazing 60s style US garage band I heard when listening to a show called The Three Chord Monte on WFMU radio in New York. I downloaded the show in November 2007..! Such is the saturation of music, that gems do go amiss.. Seven years to get round to listening to this show, and it was only by random on the iPod. Check the WFMU website, as this weekly show is still running, and each one is archived (almost 20 years' worth) for your listening pleasure and education.
This particular show came on in the car on the way to see Converge, Okkultokrati and Martyrdod in Manchester (review) - three bands completely unknown to me and three bands, whose music I now play regularly.

Another batch of 'new' bands in my world are Fat White Family, The Growlers, The Wytches, who I saw in Liverpool last week (review). Also Hookworms who were recommended by Andy Garside, who happens to be part of Drum With Our Hands label who have released the excellent EP by Wrexham's Baby Brave (review).

I also had a hardcore night in Chester last week, with Crossburner and a host of quality acts (review), courtesy of Footloose Records (of Flint) - some great noise coming from that neat little label...  (website)
And two artists regenerated and much to my own surprise and ignorance are Gary Numan and Peter Murphy, who, rather than cash in on the cabaret circuit are still out there releasing and touring new (and very good) material.

Oh... and The Holy Bible is 20 years old... the Manic Street Preachers' finest hour...

Day16: Pussy Footballers

I know it's an easy and topical target but these cheating bastards are spoiling the beautiful game, it's not football it's cheatball. 

The cheats who go down as if they've been shot in order to try and get an opponent sent off. Where's the sportmanship in that? Imagine going down that easy in a pub in Rhyl.!! No ref to protect you there you fucking ponce...

When will something be done about this?

A one match ban? Pants pulled down in public? Made to wear a ballerina skirt and pop socks? 

Can we not kneecap those guilty?

And while we're at it let's stop all substitutions on 85 minutes...

Day15: Motorway Services

Did you know that when Motorway Services first began springing up in the 1960s, they were considered a place to take your loved one for a romantic meal..!!

How things have changed... 

Now they are RIP OFF cattle markets where EVERYTHING IS AT LEAST 50% MORE EXPENSIVE THAN ANYWHERE IN THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD...!!!!

You are the captive audience, you've driven for hours, you're tired, the kids are hungry - you stop at Knutsford Services, and the faceless fuckers empty your purse, steal your wallet and rip the shirt off your back.

In future plan your journey - living is expensive anyway without being blatantly ripped off by these cunts - fill up before leaving, make snacks, bring plenty of drinks and by all means use the services facilities that are free, like the rest area. And if you have to pay to use the toilet make sure you break something while you're in there.... 

Bastards...

Marchlyn Mawr

Last week we did Marchlyn Bach - This week we did Marchlyn Mawr - a good, not too taxing walk - takes about 3 hours..
Built to feed the Dinorwic Power Station, the lake itself lies in between two mountains Carnedd y Fillast and Elidir Fawr and lies at a height of 636m above sea level and the reservoir took four years to build (from 1975-1979).
From the reservoir, a 34 ft diameter tunnel runs for a mile to a 33ft diameter vertical shaft. From the bottom of the shaft, a 31ft diameter tunnel leads to the power station, 670 metres away.

Day14: Chocolate Bar Rip Off

Cadbury, Nestle etc YOU'RE ALL RIP OFF MERCHANTS... 

Your confectionery has shrunk so much that you can't even fit the name on the wrapper anymore!

Never heard of a Cadbury Twir before or a Snicke bar, or a Boos - you twats.

Funny how the price has gone up though eh...? Tossers...

Day13: Superstitions

Thought I'd use the thirteenth day to raise the touch(wood)y subject of superstition...

Please, someone explain how breaking a mirror is gonna give me seven years bad luck when my whole life has been nothing but bad luck?

How is seeing two magpies gonna give me joy...

On my thirteenth birthday, I was given some lucky heather and a rabbit's foot, it was a Friday, I walked under a ladder and a mirror smashed over my head, as I lay on the floor a black cat scratched my face and a magpie shat on me.

Piss off...

Day12: Dr Alexander

I heard my Doctor was buried the other day. He was not much older than me and a really nice, genuine guy.

When I say my Doctor, or GP if you like, I'd not seen him for 15 years - you see, he was so good that none of his patients were ever ill!!

Dr Alexander wasn't your usual 'Oh it's a virus' type quack, who'd fob you off with some placebo. No, he'd sit, he'd listen and if he could do something to help you he would.

He instigated my first course of tattoo removal on the NHS, we swapped tales of festivals and swapped punk rock music. He diagnosed my  2-year old daughter's ongoing 'cough' as an ear problem, which an operation resolved. He also cut off my ex's ears!! :)

So when I received a text to say he had died, it stopped me in my tracks... Gutted.. 

Today really is a shit day...

Day11: The Jeremy Kyle Show

It's not so much The Jeremy Kyle Show I can't stand, (although it does influence the simple minded, brain dead portion of our population), it's the underclass of human being that has been exposed in this country. 

The type with neck tattoos, trackies, rotten teeth, addictions, benefits, jail terms...

The type of person who would not think twice about robbing your gran.

All borne out of our modern day society, and taking full advantage of it at the expense of others.. And I don't mean the tax payer, I mean the people's lives they make a misery, like their neighbours, their classmates (if they actually go to school), the cars and homes they rob...

Basically the type that shouldn't breed... Wankers.

Day10: Celebrity Wannabes

Big Brother, TOWIE, BGT, The Apprentice, OK magazine, Tabloids... etc etc...

There's only one thing to do with publicity (at any cost) seeking fuckwits....

Shoot them in the face.

Day9: Paul Whitehouse Aviva

Paul Whitehouse was a bit of a hero to me. He was the brains behind Harry Enfield's rise to stardom, and I loved every second of The Fast Show...

Now I know we all have bills to pay and I don't begrudge anyone working for a living, but there is something CRINGEWORTHINGLY SHIT about Whitehouse in those bollockingly crap Aviva Insurance adverts...

Actually, EVERY fucking insurance ad is bollockingly crap, but we'll save that for another day...

Day8: Rik Mayall

With so many vile individuals in the world, it always seems the good guys get taken from us...

Today really is a shit day...

Day7: Cyber Cats

I'm gonna invent an App that can filter out Cats from social media...

If I wanted to look at a cat sleeping, eating, playing or shitting I'd sign up to pussyporn.com - I don't need to know that your fucking cat is stalking a poor innocent bird in the garden... IT'S A CAT... THAT'S WHAT THEY DO..!!!

Ever wondered what that odd smell from behind the telly is? That's cat piss. That's because your cat HATES YOU REALLY, you're just a convenience.

Just remember, if it was any bigger it would eat you regardless of how many cute pictures you plastered the internet with it.

Mee-fucking-ow...

Day6: Supermarket Self Checkouts

Please take the item out of the bag and wait for assistance... 

FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF

Day5: Facebook Attention Seekers

Hey! We all like attention and I use Facebook as a platform to spam (ha!) you my link2wales website - all in the name of music...

Why do people post 'I've had enough of this..!' on facebook in order to get a deluge of 'U ok hun xxx?' replies..?
Well, for attention of course...

And of course the other cringe-worthy cases are where you watch someone's relationship break down before your very eyes, word for word, blow by blow... 

There's a place for dirty washing and it ain't in public...

Have a little bit of dignity FFS!!

I've had enough of this...!!

And yes I'm fine... Now fuck off..!

Day4: Spam

I just don't get it... Are there still numbskull morons who actually click on a link from an unsolicited email promising them a 12" dick, a mountain of viagra and 30 squillion quid in their bank accounts? And if there isn't, then why the fuck are these pieces of crap spams still sent in their droves?

What's even worse are the fake accounts that try to infiltrate Facebook groups to sell you Ray Ban Sunglasses (who in the UK ever sees sunshine??).

I've got a nifty spam blocker for my own link2wales website, without it, the site wouldn't exist, as in three years it's been hit nearly 350,000 times with shit comments like this, 'I really appreciate this post. I’ve been looking all over for this! Thank goodness I found it on Bing. You have made my day! Thx again' and a link to some oral fucking jelly or something stupid like that. Thankfully, the blocker keeps it all out.

I would love to meet a spammer, just 15 minutes of me and them in a locked room would suffice... (prick)

Day3: Tribute Acts

Sometimes I think I hate tribute acts more than life itself... 

The world has become a sorry place where the cocks and the tarts who wouldn't even know what a 'local' band was, will happily pay £20 to WATCH A FUCKING LIMP DICKED BUNCH OF CUNTS pretending to be their heroes on stage... And what's worse... Getting paid for doing it..!

There are a couple who do it as it should be done, such as Gabba Abba Hey, who are an Abba tribute act playing the songs in a Ramones style.. Now that's neat. And I know some who go out as a tribute act to fund their real band, which is sad, but true...

But nobbers like Noasis, King Ov Leon, Black Market Clash, Sex Pistols Experience, Machine Gun Etiquette take the place of real bands, who play real and original music (wankers).
It's a sorry state of affairs that the only way venues, promoters and bars can survive is to put on such crap to pull in the arseholes willing to pay to see it. Fuck Off..!!!!

Day 2: Supermarket Bastards

Supermarkets are the scourge of the small entrepreneur. I despise them with a passion... Big corporate bastards sucking the life and soul out of EVERY town in the country.

Most High Streets are now paved with Tanning Salons, Nail Salons, Hairdressers, Dentists, Kebab Houses, Tattoo Artists and boarded up shops.

Nearly every bakery, fishmonger, butcher, fruit 'n' veg shop has been forced out of business by the huge corporate bullies that are supermarkets.
And mark my words.. It won't be long before you can get your nails done in Tesco, have a dental check-up in Asda, get your car MOT'd in Sainsburys and a fucking tattoo in Morrisons...

I visit supermarkets very often to pick up their Reduced items. Tonight I picked up tea, lunch and dinner for a whopping total of 60p, as for buying anything else they make it so hard... Where can I buy fish without using a boat?

Here's a point though... Tesco's 'reduced nearly out of date' fruit and veg is still more expensive than Lidl and Aldi's very fresh and in-date produce. (bastards).

'Saving you money every day' - piss off...

'Every little helps' - go and fuck yourselves...

DAY 1: I Hate Anyone Who Drives A Toyota Yaris... Wankers

I've seen so many people attempt #100HappyDays and to many extents it has proved to be good for their souls - or they're kidding themselves.

So I thought I'd try and vent my spleen with a HUNDRED DAYS OF SHIT...

For DAY 1: I hate anyone who drives a Toyota Yaris... Wankers

I only use the Yaris as I was behind some fossilised shit driving one today through Colwyn Bay at FIFTEEN MILES AN HOUR, who proceeded to brake at every corner...

Without getting all Jeremy Clarkson on you, and I know it's stereotypical, but you can quite often guess who's behind the wheel by the car they drive.
Eg; Nissan Note - the name says it all... I mean, a Nissan Note... What wanker buys a car called a Nissan Note? A Roundabout Wanker, that's who...

#100ShitDays

Wobbly Hearts in the Daily Post

 

There's something very special about this band - they're like an unshackled Gintis

Stone Roses reunion at Heaton Park

 

It took me a good year to get into Stone Roses - had heard them in their pre-famous days courtesy of John Peel. Once the hype came along and the luvvies did their loving I simply switched off. After hearing the singles being continually played at The Bistro in Rhyl, I actually sat down and listened to that debut album, like most people people, I was blown away.

So, with my sisters, we went to Heaton Park. The Roses were OK, a lot of the crowd were complete bag-head wankers.

HERE'S THE REVIEW

Facefook

I hate Facebook – it’s trashed the net for anorak saddoes like me. The herding mentality of humans even happens online and we all devoutly follow the ‘leaders’ without thought, or the need for thought.

Let’s take the guy who lives in a town a thousand years ago, and he’s fed up of the Jones’ next door forever trying to keep up with him, so he ups sticks and heads for the country and builds a little house and happily settles down there. When he’s a bit lonely or needs supplies he’ll pop back into the town for a pint and a gossip. His family and friends see that his lifestyle is the type they want, and they one by one move out into the country and build houses next to our guy. Before long his house in the country is part of a village, which becomes a town, then a city, and someone gets fed up and moves out to the country, and so on. It’s our tribal mentality.

The internet is similar… They call it social networking… So few people or bands have their own websites these days, or if they do, so few people visit them… Facebook has taken over… It’s a government conspiracy to keep us all glued to our PCs… Jello Biafra was right all along..!

I don’t really give a toss if Sharon is now single, or if Kevin has had chocolate hob-nobs with his coffee, and neither is it really your business if I’m pissed off at work today. Yes it is and can be entertaining watch someone’s relationship crumble in public as they hang their dirty washing out for all and sundry to gloat and see, but my gripe is that it’s killed the music network. Or more significantly myspace.

Myspace was a reasonable platform for bands, but nowadays it’s like someone who spotwelds washing machines on a production line… you may as well be dead. Myspace is dead.. No one uses it anymore… Bands don’t update their pages and most don’t have their own websites.

Twitter is in instant time, you get info for ‘the now’ and it’s gone within minutes. Facebook is one down from there, the info is up for a day before being drowned in a sea of nonsensicality.

Ok let’s say I wanna see what a hard working band like Bastions are up to… I’ll go to their Facebook page, I ‘Like’ them already so I’m in with over 1600 other followers. I see they’re playing in Lincoln on May 9th, I can click a link and find some music, got some photos too, nice one. But that’s because they do it properly – and it is still hard work.

‘Like’ a few more bands and your own Facebook ‘main page’ becomes crammed with Notifications, Events, Announcements and emails as every band, promoter, venue, folk singer and their dog competes for your attention. All their hard work is swept away in a tsunamic wave of nonsensical information.

Myspace was (I say was, it’s still there, but it’s slow and cumbersome these days) at least orientated for bands and people who like bands, Facebook is like a band playing in a restaurant, some people will go there to eat and are not interested in watching a band, so as a band you are basically competing with Sharon’s splintering relationship and Kevin’s craving for biscuits.

Maybe bands will start breaking free and once again annex the internet – there’s vast open spaces out there now that everyone has herded into one domain. Bands need to claim back their www.domains – yes Facebook is a superb platform for publicity, but that is what it should be – a platform to your own website where you control what people see. www.yourband.com should be your main page and emblazoned all over your Facebook page to encourage Kev and Sharon to stray away from the flock and rock.

Battle of the Bands: Why Do We Keep Falling for This?

 

There aren’t many things Adam Walton and I agree on. He insists on being “Dad” whenever we play House, and makes me sleep on the couch after a drink because my snoring keeps him awake. But one thing we do agree on: Liverpool have had better seasons… and Battle of the Bands competitions suck.

So how the hell did I end up sat on a judging panel, sneering like a bald Simon Cowell at a parade of hopefuls all vying for the coveted “Best Band” crown? Who am I to decide whether one band is better than another? Sure, some are — but it’s all down to taste. One man’s Stuntface is another woman’s JLS.

Why Battles of the Bands Suck

I’ve never entered one myself, though when I managed Pocket Venus I did once sign them up for a competition in Ellesmere Port. I encouraged them to trash the brand-new drum kit provided for the evening. Cue chaos: fists flying, finger-pointing, boos, jeers… and, unsurprisingly, no victory. But that’s the point — these nights aren’t about the music, they’re about how many mates you can bus in to scream the loudest.

Do I blame bands for entering? Not really. The organisers dangle carrots: a slot at Glastonbury, opening a muddy Tuesday morning tent to a couple of bemused dairy cows; a day in a “recording studio” canteen; maybe a month’s supply of Big Macs. Who wouldn’t be tempted?

The Llandudno Experience

So when Cumi phoned asking if I’d judge one of these things at Venue Cymru in Llandudno, I reluctantly said yes. To be fair, there are positives. The bands get to play on a big stage with pro sound and lights in front of 650 people — for many, a first taste of the big league and an unforgettable buzz.

But the cons? The judging panel. Alongside me sat: the venue manager, a police superintendent, a BBC weather girl, a 70-year-old drum tutor, and his mother — the mayoress of Llandudno. Apart from the drum guy (and maybe the BBC girl), what the hell did any of them know about music? After our deliberations, it turned out: absolutely nothing.

And the Winner Is… Bemusement

For the record, Bad Dog won. The announcement came after Courteous Thief played a 20-minute set, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. Then:

“And the winner is… Bad Dog.”

Cue silence.

No offence to Bad Dog, but the judges were dazzled by a Guns N’ Roses cover. A cover! In my book, that’s zero points for originality. Why not just rename it “Battle of the Karaoke Queens”? For the record, Bad Dog are a really hard rocking band and are above shit like BoTBs. There are some artists who habitually enter these 'competitions' for reasons only they will be able to answer.

Still, I can’t be too bitter. I got to watch ten bands play their three best songs (minus the covers), which saved me traipsing around North Wales sitting through full sets. A couple of standouts even emerged: Jed is Dead and Y Cer. I already knew about Zebedy and Kixxstart Kitty. Future Perfect were quirky, Rumour and Longshot were decent, Whiskey & Lace were disturbing in all the wrong ways.

Final Thoughts

Would I judge another Battle of the Bands? No chance. But then again, who am I to pass judgement?

When Vinyl Came to Rhyl: My 3-Second Screen Debut

 

I was chatting with Mike Peters, as I often do, when he casually dropped the sort of line that only Mike can:

“Sara Sugarman’s in town, casting for her new film Vinyl at the Pavilion in Rhyl – think Marni might want a part?”

My daughter Marni, was both star-struck and fearless, she ended up spending a full day on set as one of a group of teenage fans chasing a young band. My niece and nephew, Erin and Rhys, were also in on it, cast as extras in a funeral scene. For a film about music, youth, and reinvention, it felt only right that the family got involved.

Then Mike looked at me and grinned.

“You’ve got to be in it too – just turn up. Tell them I sent you.”

And so I did.

---

Mike also had the idea of a band playing in the Pavilion foyer during auditions and did I have any suggestions: Carpet! I cajoled local grunge legends Carpet into playing. Picture it: a raw, fuzzy wall of filthy guitars bouncing off the glass walls, bemused auditionees queueing for their moment while a live band tore it up just meters away. It was surreal. It was brilliant. It was Keeping it Rhyl.

When I turned up to audition, the room was full of hopefuls. I sat, waited, watched the low budgetness unfold. Then I was called in.

Inside was Sara Sugarman, flanked by two others. She looked up, curious. I explained – probably a bit sheepishly – that I wasn’t here to audition per se, but that Mike had told me to come down, that I was meant to have a cameo.

Sara’s eyes lit up.

“I’ve got just the part for you,” she said.
“Come back next week.”

---

Tuesday, 17 August 2010, I arrived back at the Pavilion with my young son Declan in tow. He was a little shy but well-behaved – a miracle considering how long we waited. They even offered him a part, but he politely declined. We ended up spending hours with a motley crew of film extras: mostly local doormen from Rhyl, including one standout character called Lordy, who kept spirits high with relentless banter and mischief.

Time dragged. We’d been there since 11:30am. By 3pm, we hadn’t filmed a frame. Then something happened that jolted the day alive: Keith Allen walked in.

Yes, that Keith Allen – renegade, rock-and-roll wild card, and bona fide screen legend. Watching him was something else. One minute we were chatting casually about Lily (yes, that Lily Allen) and Twin Town, the next minute Sara called “Rolling!” and he snapped into character like flipping a switch. One second he’s your funny mate from down the pub, the next he’s full-throttle intensity. It was mesmerising.

Oh, and Perry Benson and Phil Daniels were there too – yep, Quadrophenia, EastEnders, Parklife Phil Daniels. Just hanging about like it was the most normal thing in the world.

---

The Big Moment (All 3 Seconds of It)

When I finally got called, I was dressed in a security guard’s outfit and given my cue:
“Manhandle Keith Allen into the dark room and tell him to calm down.”

That was it. My film debut.

Three seconds of camera time.
One slightly forceful shove.
And a line delivered with all the calm authority I could muster while trying not to fanboy all over Keith Allen’s coat.

It might not sound like much, but it was ace. I had a front-row seat into the world and theatre of filmmaking. 

---

Vinyl: A Love Letter to Music and Mischief

If you’re not familiar with Vinyl, it’s a comedy inspired by a real-life stunt pulled by Mike Peters and his band The Alarm. In 2004, frustrated by music industry ageism, they released a single 45 RPM under the name of a fake young band—and watched it climb the charts. Vinyl takes that story and runs with it, adding laughs, characters, and charm.

Director, Sara Sugarman was born in Rhyl in October 1962 and began her career as a punk‑rock teenager fronting a band called The Fractures, managed by Mike Peters. Their early connection in Rhyl's music scene later brought her to direct Vinyl and film it in their shared hometown. Sugarman later trained at RADA and appeared in films like Sid & Nancy before transitioning to directing (Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen, Very Annie Mary, and eventually Vinyl).

That day – long, disorganised, hilarious, inspiring – was everything that Vinyl stands for. It was about giving people a shot, about the absurd beauty of performance, about the unfiltered fun of doing something purely for the love of it.

It didn’t matter that my screen time was brief or that Declan didn’t end up in the final cut. The film was OK, no one was gonna get an Oscar, but it had a certain nostalgic charm to it, and of course it was filmed in Rhyl where it all began, the scrappy, butt of many a joke North Wales town that raised so many of us.

The Damned – Brickyard, Carlisle

In the summer of 2010, I made the long trip up from North Wales to Carlisle to catch The Damned at the Brickyard – and it was worth every mile. Thankfully, friends put me up for the night, making it a proper little adventure rather than just a fleeting dash across the country.

That's my big bald bonce at the front!

The venue had a sweaty, close-quarters energy – just right to see a band like The Damned, who thrive off the crowd’s enthusiasm. Captain Sensible was absolutely on form throughout the set, ripping through the classics with that signature mix of buffoonery and charm. Even better, he was mingling with us both before and after the show – no rockstar aloofness here, just a genuine connection with the fans.

The set leaned into their punk roots with big hitters like New Rose, Love Song, and Smash It Up, while also pulling out deeper cuts like A Nation Fit for Heroes. The crowd lapped it up, and so did I – one of those gigs where you come away feeling like you were part of something a bit special, and very intimate.

A proper night to remember – Carlisle may not often be the centre of the punk nostalgia universe, but for one Wednesday night in August 2010, it absolutely was.

Hippy New Year

It's a new dawn, a new day, a new life.. etc etc... I used to like Muse until my 10-year-old son developed a neurosis about them. Such is his condition I have to hide my entire Muse collection for fear of myself going off them... Anyway I digress from the reason I'm writing... A new year.. New hopes, new beginnings and so on...
I spent most of 2009 in a tent, or at least that's how it felt, with the bulk of the summer taken up by Festivals, drinking, travelling, drinking and, well, drinking. This had a detrimental effect not only on my liver, but also on my up-to-date knowledge of Welsh music (as in music from Wales in both languages). So praise the Lord for Adam Walton, and praise him even more for kindly collating his best of 2009 into an all killer no filler 3 hour radio show last week. Listening to it cost me £20 in online purchases, where on hearing certain bands I was instantly compelled to buy their stuff. Most of my Walton listening is done during the week on the BBC iPlayer; it's a case of home from work, Walton on, get the tea on and eat it while he witters away and plays exciting new music. That'll take about 40mins and I'll repeat the feat the next night and so on until I've heard the full 3 hours. On the Sunday evening occasions I do get to listen in live, it's a case of a bottle of red and PC at the ready and I'll update the link2wales website as I hear and learn of new stuff.
Talking of new stuff; this week I have mostly been listening to The Docfeistr compilation album out now on Ankst Music, which is a bizarre concept album about a seaman-monster who terrorises and seduces the population, and although mainly hip-hop orientated, does feature the delights of Tew Shady a Cofi Bach, Mr Huw, MC Mabon, Stilletoes and Yr Ods.
Also knocking on the door of my in-box are the much improved Leucine - who've regrouped, got their songwriting heads together, hit the studio and are about to hit your senses with a new EP. Stand out tracks are The Fuse is Lit (which has been knocking around for a while) and the excellent Hospital Driver Please. Now, I'm no fan of emo and find screamo a bit tiresome (it's my age!), but Leucine manage to find a decent balance in the never-never land between the two genres. Superbly recorded and crafted work that even had Steve Sync nodding in the car the other day! Oh, add Where is The Diamond to that list just for the sheer energy of the song.