Spent 3 days in the searing scorching heat of rural France last weekend - it was the first time they had had sun in a fortnight so I was lucky enough to burn my pen moel (bald head to you non-Welsh) heathens. The barbecue smoked, the Crudlets and Frenchlets played and the Jack Daniels flowed (wine drinking is a myth, the French are strictly hardcore!) -
Celine had her iPlayer on random, rattling out all kinds of weird and wonderful sounds, until something very familiar pulsed across the Gallic countryside, 'I know this... what is it?' I enquired.
'You should do, it's The Racketears.' She replied, well, perhaps not in such good English, but I understood. She had heard them on my podcast and downloaded as much of the Colwyn Bay band as was legally possible.
The power of radio...
Let's hope we all go out to see, not only The Racketears, but whoever Blood & Lipstick promoter Steve Rastin puts on at the Zu Club in Rhyl. We need to support this new venture and do so regularly; not just those who live in the town, but the bods from Colwyn Bay, Holywell and inland. The opening night is on September 10th (Wednesday of course!)
Zu Bar
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Globally Parasitically Correct
Thirteen years ago today Martin Wilding, Steve Sync, Robin Hemuss, Steve Jones, Cumi Pants and myself alighted the stage at The Vlietpop festival in Den Haag as the Sons of Selina. So it was quite fitting and warming to read another Colwyn Bay band's plight of entertaining our Dutch cousins earlier this month.
Global Parasite have been making noises on the scene for a little over 18 months and have worked their way up to heady heights of the modern punk scene.None of this was by being in the right place at the time, it is through sheer hard work and total determination - 'have band, will travel' - they play anywhere and everywhere, and remarkably without their own transport.
Global Parasite spawned from The Cox who were the punk heroes of their own backyard and released the absolute classic single Nailbomb The Dancefloor, a semi-jocular assault on the disco club culture 'I'm gonna sign up to the Al-Qaeda... DJ die you fucking cunt.' It certainly was an assault on the senses and a doctored version was played many times on BBC Radio Wales by Adam Walton.
The Cox were doomed because of Leigh's phobia; the guitarist had a reluctance to travel, which handicapped the band and tied them to a short stretch of the North Wales coast. Global Parasite are a progression of The Cox; Ste, Matt and Dave dedicate themselves to the cause, with strong politically-anarcho-punk beliefs and the ability to pen more stomping anthems such as the single Smash The New World Order, and more importantly, the ability to take their message to any town or city they choose. Chances are they'll play in a town near you, go and see them it'll be worth the fiver's entrance fee. In an age crammed with old punk bands in their mid-forties playing the same combination of three chords, it's refreshing to see a young punk band playing more dynamically progressive tunes and crowd surfing their way to the front of the scene.
http://www.myspace.com/globalparasite
Global Parasite have been making noises on the scene for a little over 18 months and have worked their way up to heady heights of the modern punk scene.None of this was by being in the right place at the time, it is through sheer hard work and total determination - 'have band, will travel' - they play anywhere and everywhere, and remarkably without their own transport.
Global Parasite spawned from The Cox who were the punk heroes of their own backyard and released the absolute classic single Nailbomb The Dancefloor, a semi-jocular assault on the disco club culture 'I'm gonna sign up to the Al-Qaeda... DJ die you fucking cunt.' It certainly was an assault on the senses and a doctored version was played many times on BBC Radio Wales by Adam Walton.
The Cox were doomed because of Leigh's phobia; the guitarist had a reluctance to travel, which handicapped the band and tied them to a short stretch of the North Wales coast. Global Parasite are a progression of The Cox; Ste, Matt and Dave dedicate themselves to the cause, with strong politically-anarcho-punk beliefs and the ability to pen more stomping anthems such as the single Smash The New World Order, and more importantly, the ability to take their message to any town or city they choose. Chances are they'll play in a town near you, go and see them it'll be worth the fiver's entrance fee. In an age crammed with old punk bands in their mid-forties playing the same combination of three chords, it's refreshing to see a young punk band playing more dynamically progressive tunes and crowd surfing their way to the front of the scene.
http://www.myspace.com/globalparasite
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Chewing The Gum
A new law has been passed in Denbighshire; it is now illegal to spit chewing gum on the pavement. This is a momentous occasion and it is warming to see hundreds of youths being carted off in cattle trucks to be administered their punishments.
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!
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
I may or may not come as a surprise, but I have spent the last five months writing a book on the History of The Alternative Scene in North Wales. From the rudimentary beginnings of The Alarm to the present day bands and people.
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...
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
I was reading in the local rags a couple of weeks ago about some councillor or other and then a letter from a disgruntled Rates Payer moaning about the huge bill of 'expenses' our councillors run up.
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!
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
The quest is on this year to push the Crud Cast online radio show to more listeners – I launched the CrudCast myspace page last week and response has been good, and unlike the last few years, the effort needs to be sustained with a weekly show (rather than when I could be arsed).
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
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
Bar Blu in Rhyl town centre closed its doors one final time last Saturday (19th Jan), not only depriving the community of a nightclub, but more importantly (in my eyes), also ending 5 years of gigs at the most unlikeliest of venues.
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.
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
I was listening to Roley's Dark Compass podcast, and he complained that he's skint. Too bloody right, where has all me cash gone? Have I spent that much on beer? Does taking a week off work to celebrate the birth of our (ahem) Lord Jesus Christ mean I'm gonna be brassic for the next month? Well, yes basically. Self employment means no work, no money and definitely no holiday pay! I had two grand in the bank just before the Pagan Festivities; I unlocked the safe last Wednesday and I'm five hundred quid overdrawn! Where the fuck has it all gone? Ok, ok a grand has gone on the mortgage and maintenance, but £1500 on Christmas!? One thousand five hundred English pounds..! Jesus! (him again!). Yes I bought the Crudlets and family presents, yes I had a few scoops with my friends, yes I went to a couple of gigs, I bought some merchandise, couple of t-shirts and CDs, but fifteen hundred smackeroonys? Perhaps I've been cyber-raped - I'll have to check.
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....
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
The stiffs in suits at BBC Radio One are defending a decision to edit lyrics out of the song Fairytale of New York by The Pogues and the late Kirsty MacColl. The track was first released back in 1987 and is being played on Radio 1 in the run up to Christmas with the word faggot removed. The BBC says members of the audience would find it offensive. But the decision was branded "ridiculous" by Radio 1 DJ Chris Moyles, who is leading a campaign to make the 1987 song the Christmas number one.
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...!
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
I occasionally get drawn to the TV - shite TV. Yes I'll watch a film most nights I'm not out, but that's late on, usually after 11pm.
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..!
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
I lost count about 5 moves ago, I used to keep a list of all the abodes I have lived in. It was something like 33 I think... In the thirties anyway.
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...
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.
Then came the panicked follow-up:
“DAD!”
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?
The realisation hit me like a slap to the guts:
That instant barbecue earlier. The one that didn’t light properly, where the sausages and bacon had to cook on the one corner that managed a half-hearted glow. The hunger won out. We ate them anyway.
Instant Barbecue, my arse.
More like Instant Salmonella.
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.
SPLASH.
My right foot plunged straight into the icy water. I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. I legged it to the toilet block, got him to a cubicle but it was too late. As I plonked him on the pan Mount Vesuvius erupted and sprayed the walls, floor and toilet. It was like a scene from Kill Bill - only the walls weren't covered in blood...
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.
SPLASH.
Left foot. Of course. Soggy symmetry.
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:
Wild campsite near Betws-y-Coed, Snowdonia
Conditions: Cold. Pitch black. Boggy.
Survivors: One soggy dad, one hollowed-out child.
Key lesson:
When an Instant Barbecue refuses to light — take the hint. Don't mess with the meat.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wupting Back Ache
My fucking back is killing me! I have to work for a living - self employed tiler and I've been working like a frog looking for water. I was gonna put 'like a dog' but dogs don't really work do they? They just laze around, shit on pavements and sniff other dogs' arses. Unlike a frog looking for water, because when I lived / worked in Greece it was a particularly hot summer and the stream that normally reduces to a trickle in the hotter months, had actually dried up. I was working at a house with a swimming pool and an army of frogs came leaping up the mountain to the pool for water.
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.
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
Music is the food of love - and very often gives me indigestion, but lately I've been gorging in the best restaurants who have served up treat after treat.
The menu has many courses...
For starters we have Head In The Shed from Swansea who brought us a stunning debut single 'Have We All Gone Insane' reminiscent of an electronic Killing Joke, and just as angry. They swiftly followed it up with another single 'Why?' which lends itself to the main riff from 'You Really Got Me' and I have just rec'd a new track they've been working on, an instrumental not too dissimilar to Portrait of A Lifetime called 'I've Got Blisters on My Brain' which has thumping beats and odd mis-beats and blips blistered all over it. (website)
Also from Swansea come the excellent, and I mean excellent White Noise Sound, good enough to be featured on Jerry Kranitz's Aural Innovations radio show in Ohio, they combine indie shoegaze with psychedelia smith like sweeping recipes topped with the loveliest delayed feedback you'll ever hear. (website)
The main course has gotta be the double CD compilation release from Northern Star Records. Entitled 'Psychedelica Volume Two' you get 35 tracks of the finest aural cuisine to feast on. Featuring the likes of The Quarter After, The Deaths, Dolly Rocker Movement, Dust, Lovetones, Hopewell, Soft Hearted Scientists and many more...!
It's hard to define psychedelic these days; to me it sounds like good music. In the old days of Sons of Selina the term meant an obscure b-side that contained random loops and could be played at 45 or 33rpm. Northern Star is run by exiled Rhylites Scott and Ollie, who are by their own admission, a bit like Laurel & Hardy but with razor blades.
Tuck in at this website
The sweet menu will be the bitterest you'll ever taste! With not a hint of sugar coating you find Klaus Kinski sending your taste buds recoiling! They have a split single with Ectogram due for imminent release, and their offering 'Ecce Homo' will have you smashing plates in the aisles. Sounding very much in the no wave-ish, noise-rocky, horror-punk dirtness of Wendykurk, this maggot ridden infestation from Llanfairfechan are the butterfly that's turned into the ugliest caterpillar you'll ever see.
Brilliant! (website)
On the cheese board (by no coincidence) comes Denbigh's Hogchild. I had a phone call from a familiar voice the other day in the shape of Steve Jones, who hasn't spoke to me since he ran out of Pocket Venus in Oct 2002, leaving me with a hefty bill from having to cancel a London showcase. But hey, that was almost 5 years ago. He shoved a CD through my letterbox and the 3 tracks cement the fact that he still is an outstanding guitarist. Backed ironically by Gotti members Steve Flavell and Mauve Brown, Hogchild could quite easily've called themselves Jimi Hendrix and you would've been none the wiser. The opening track 'Killing Floor' is my favoured cheese. (website)
Coffee and biscuits will be served up by the return of Der Bomber at Bar Blu, Rhyl tonight...
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Video Killed The Radio Star
That song by Buggles makes me feel sad, makes me want for the days when I was 11 or 12 - my age when it came out. It invokes memories of a carefree childhood, without the hassles that present day life throws at you. What bollocks eh! Childhood was hard, Denbigh was a bully's paradise and everyone and anyone was a target. We had no money, we wore 2nd hand clothes, and yet I hear that song and I yearn for those days - maybe its a mortality thing, because everytime you wake up it's the anniversary of being a day closer to your death...
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
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
The majority of those who read this will be well aware that I run a website - a database of Welsh and Scouse alternative bands, past, present and future, with now almost 4000 individual entries (looks just like an encyclopedia).
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...
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
Still being a teenager having just turned 40 the inevitable day had to come. My car became Dad’s Taxi as I ferried my 13-year-old daughter through the wind and the rain to MASE in Old Colwyn. She wore stripy tights, mini-skirt, some kind of pirate t-shirt and black eye-liner running into a cross above her left cheekbone.
’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
’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
How hot is it??!!! - Thankfully, coming back from Las Vegas, a paltry 86deg F is 20 less than in Sin City...
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.
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...
Right that’s it! Enough is enough… No more midnight curries! I can handle the beer the next day but it’s the curry that’s the killer! It’s not like I get any of the traditional joke shop ‘shit through the eye of a needle’ the next day, it’s the awful I’ve been kicked in the head and torso feeling I get! I love my curries HOT and Sunday night’s Garlic Chilli Chicken was no exception. The pity is that it was exceptional, and I wolfed it down while drunkenly emailing sweet nothings to Bethan Elfyn as she was standing in for Adam Walton’s BBC Radio Wales Show.
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.
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
‘I’d rather go hungry than eat that shit.’
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….
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….
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