So yeah, Cliffey and I went to that gig and it was good, although being as it was a 14+ show we did feel rather old. I won't go on about it too much here because hopefully my review should be up on the Miniature Music Press website before too long and I can just lazily link you all to that.
Lovely weather we're having recently, isn't it? There are rumours that a group of us might be going to Barry Island on Sunday, to frolic and laugh and play with a ball and generally make the most of this unusual warmth.
Sarah's been missing most of the sunshine due to, y'know, jobs and stuff, so it was a pleasant surprise yesterday when her dad came into Sturff and told us that he would look after the shop for a bit if we wanted to have a meander around Penarth.
We acceded, naturally, and so off we went to work on our tans. I of course live a pretty leisurely life, so had already seen my share of the sun (hell, I'd been doing timed laps earlier in the day to pass the time), but for Sarah, who had barely been outside all week, this was a revelation. Summer, it seemed, had finally arrived.
...Mind you, it was really hot outdoors, so we periodically took shelter in Penarth's many charity shops. We didn't buy anything, but we did see a boy getting slightly intimate with some old VHS cassettes in the Oxfam shop. I thought he was just sniffing them; Sarah suspects that he was in fact licking them. Either way.
Cliffey and Tom were playing FIFA '12 last night, mere hours after its midnight release. I suspect we might join them this evening. Apparently it's really difficult to tackle now. To be honest I was never that good at it to begin with.
Hello Facebook apologies. How I didn't miss you.
Joel.
Friday 30 September 2011
Wednesday 28 September 2011
Joel Dear, The New Lester Bangs
I have plans for tonight. I'm on a guestlist.
Of the several things I neglected to mention in yesterday's entry, probably the most important is the small matter of my burgeoning journalism career. Remember my Willy Mason review? Well, I sent it to a bunch of folks and one of them got back to me. The Miniature Music Press - a local publication for local music - said it was cool and would I like to review some other stuff for them?
Of course I would. So tonight I am going to Clwb Ifor Bach to see OK, a local band who are playing a show to promote their new single. As I said up top, I'm on the guestlist, and I even get a plus one! I'm gonna feel so awesome at the entrance, provided they believe my story. I'm sure they will.
So who's my plus one? Sarah, right? Actually no. She's back home in Swanbridge tonight so I asked Cliffey if he wanted to come and keep me company instead (it means that, after the gig, there'll be someone to remind me of what happened). I showed him a couple of OK's songs, and he decided that they were, well, okay.
Hence, we shall be off to the Welsh club in a matter of minutes. But that's not to say that you should be. Josh is playing at the newly refurbished Cardiff Arts Institute tonight, and since I can't go and support him, you all should instead.
He's totally adorable. I think you'll like him.
Joel.
Of the several things I neglected to mention in yesterday's entry, probably the most important is the small matter of my burgeoning journalism career. Remember my Willy Mason review? Well, I sent it to a bunch of folks and one of them got back to me. The Miniature Music Press - a local publication for local music - said it was cool and would I like to review some other stuff for them?
Of course I would. So tonight I am going to Clwb Ifor Bach to see OK, a local band who are playing a show to promote their new single. As I said up top, I'm on the guestlist, and I even get a plus one! I'm gonna feel so awesome at the entrance, provided they believe my story. I'm sure they will.
So who's my plus one? Sarah, right? Actually no. She's back home in Swanbridge tonight so I asked Cliffey if he wanted to come and keep me company instead (it means that, after the gig, there'll be someone to remind me of what happened). I showed him a couple of OK's songs, and he decided that they were, well, okay.
Hence, we shall be off to the Welsh club in a matter of minutes. But that's not to say that you should be. Josh is playing at the newly refurbished Cardiff Arts Institute tonight, and since I can't go and support him, you all should instead.
He's totally adorable. I think you'll like him.
Joel.
Tuesday 27 September 2011
A Variety of Societies
Improvisational Approaches, then. It did in fact involve a fair bit of jammin', and it was good to back in the company of the musical folk who made the Shrek gig such a cool thing way back when. Our assignment for the morning was to make up some grooves, and obviously I had lots of fun with that even if the baritone horn isn't a particularly 'groovy' instrument*.
Just after this session I was waiting for a bus home when I received a text from Cliffey. It was his Fresher's Fayre, and he was asking if I wanted to go with him and get a bunch of "free shit" (his words). I decided that yes, I would like some free shit. Sarah, who had work later but not yet, would be joining us, and so - still lumbered by my baritone - I headed on over to the Great Hall to meet them.
There were a great variety of societies on offer for Cardiff students but, unfortunately, I'm not one**. Cliffey, on the other hand, is one, so Sarah and I were left to look on in amusement as he signed up for:
Well, they did, but not until after Sarah had left for Next. She's got two weeks off soon which she's very excited about, but unfortunately this time off did not arrive soon enough for her to receive her chips.
Obviously I stepped up in her absence and gruffled them myself. They were delicious, although the taste was somewhat soured by my subsequent Trivial Pursuit defeat at the hands of one Sian Lewis.
I could probably have named the six murder weapons in Cluedo if anyone had asked me. But no-one did.
Joel.
*Jen heard me practising the other and told me that I'm much better than I used to be. I guess that's basically a compliment, so thanks, Jen!
**That of course didn't stop me conning my way onto AltSoc's mailing list; I thought an alternative music society was an interesting prospect but it seems that they mostly just go to Metro's, which frankly is nothing new. I did appreciate their free sweets though, so thanks, AltSoc!
Just after this session I was waiting for a bus home when I received a text from Cliffey. It was his Fresher's Fayre, and he was asking if I wanted to go with him and get a bunch of "free shit" (his words). I decided that yes, I would like some free shit. Sarah, who had work later but not yet, would be joining us, and so - still lumbered by my baritone - I headed on over to the Great Hall to meet them.
There were a great variety of societies on offer for Cardiff students but, unfortunately, I'm not one**. Cliffey, on the other hand, is one, so Sarah and I were left to look on in amusement as he signed up for:
- The Poker Society! (if you beat their pro player then membership is free!)
- The Northern Society! (Cliffey of course was born and raised in Cardiff but his dad's from Huddersfield so that sort of counts)
- The Cookery Society! (they had free lemon cake)
- And another one that I can't remember. Ask him yourselves.
Well, they did, but not until after Sarah had left for Next. She's got two weeks off soon which she's very excited about, but unfortunately this time off did not arrive soon enough for her to receive her chips.
Obviously I stepped up in her absence and gruffled them myself. They were delicious, although the taste was somewhat soured by my subsequent Trivial Pursuit defeat at the hands of one Sian Lewis.
I could probably have named the six murder weapons in Cluedo if anyone had asked me. But no-one did.
Joel.
*Jen heard me practising the other and told me that I'm much better than I used to be. I guess that's basically a compliment, so thanks, Jen!
**That of course didn't stop me conning my way onto AltSoc's mailing list; I thought an alternative music society was an interesting prospect but it seems that they mostly just go to Metro's, which frankly is nothing new. I did appreciate their free sweets though, so thanks, AltSoc!
Sunday 25 September 2011
Fun & Interesting Things
It has occurred to me that there was a ten-day gap between my last two posts. I'm sure you're all wondering if any fun things happened over that period.
The answer is yes! One fun thing is that Tom and I were playing FIFA, and he was beating me 8-0 so I got angry and turned it off!
Ha!
Joel.
The answer is yes! One fun thing is that Tom and I were playing FIFA, and he was beating me 8-0 so I got angry and turned it off!
Ha!
Joel.
Saturday 24 September 2011
Hand Me The Defending Dice
Yesterday was the first day of my last year at the Atrium.
That means that I've got a year - less, in fact - until I have to become a real person. Job, non-student accommodation, etc. etc.
And standing between me and that point are, among other things, a 10,000-word dissertation and some sort of major group project, the specifics of which remain to be seen.
But let's not worry about that yet. Last night we played Risk, although we had our share of real-life obstacles to conquer before we could think about conquering the world.
So after all of that, we sat down and did some wars. We had decided beforehand that we weren't bothering with the mission cards; our only goal was complete world domination, and we expected to get a good few hours from it.
I had terrible luck with the dice, rolling mostly twos and ones, and while I did manage to hold on to South America for a good few turns I was very quickly put in my place (which, as it turned out, was a few territories in central Asia). Cliffey found himself in a similar position, with JR and Sarah the only ones who looked at all likely to win, so he and I formed an alliance. At first it was just a handshake agreement not to attack each other, but eventually we went the whole hog. Up until then, I had been the green troops, Cliffey the blue, but our merger saw us trade in both of those colours for a nice, Communist red*. JR and Sarah weren't best pleased, and they formed a similar alliance in protest (although it wasn't so much a coming together of military minds as it was Sarah signing over her troops and territories to her ginger overlord). Cliffey and I made a valiant push for victory, capturing most of Asia and North America in the process, but eventually the JR-Saz coalition brought the proverbial speaker down on top of us.
And so JR has gone, victorious, back to work. Uni for me kicks off on Monday, when I'll be dragging the ol' baritone in for its first 'improvisational approaches' session. What that will entail I'm not sure. Hopefully just two hours of unadulterated jammin'.
Joel.
*In an ideal world we'd have chosen the colour that would have resulted from mixing blue and green together, but seeing as bluey-green wasn't an option, we went with red. I like it because it's Liverpool's colour; Cliffey went with it because it's also Wales's.
That means that I've got a year - less, in fact - until I have to become a real person. Job, non-student accommodation, etc. etc.
And standing between me and that point are, among other things, a 10,000-word dissertation and some sort of major group project, the specifics of which remain to be seen.
But let's not worry about that yet. Last night we played Risk, although we had our share of real-life obstacles to conquer before we could think about conquering the world.
- I had been suffering from a migraine for much of the afternoon, which culminated in a bizarre episode during which the entire right side of my body fell asleep. Fortunately, I managed to sleep it off in time to go with Cliffey to pick Sarah up from Penarth...
- ...but we got there rather late due to a combination of traffic and errands that Cliffey had to run in Lisvane, including stops at his dad's house, the Griffin, and Sainsbury's, where we picked up JR.
- Once we had collected Sarah, we decided to pop to Tesco's to buy some Risk snacks. Sarah and I got a pizza each, and I spent the rest of the evening being mocked for spending four pounds on Sarah's when she had (allegedly) told me to get a cheaper one.
- Tewkesbury Place is no place for a game of Risk, and so we opted to play in what used to be JR's mum's house. The house is currently unoccupied, but JR had the key and there were enough facilities still about to...facilitate a game of Risk. A table, four chairs, an oven in which we could cook overpriced pizzas. Plus, unexpectedly, a mammoth spider that forced us all to evacuate the house in terror. We stood outside for a while, wondering how to get our board game and pizzas back from the monster that was holding them hostage, when JR decided to step up and deal with it. The spider, you'll be pleased to know, was neutralised (read squished) by a speaker that JR dropped on it.
So after all of that, we sat down and did some wars. We had decided beforehand that we weren't bothering with the mission cards; our only goal was complete world domination, and we expected to get a good few hours from it.
I had terrible luck with the dice, rolling mostly twos and ones, and while I did manage to hold on to South America for a good few turns I was very quickly put in my place (which, as it turned out, was a few territories in central Asia). Cliffey found himself in a similar position, with JR and Sarah the only ones who looked at all likely to win, so he and I formed an alliance. At first it was just a handshake agreement not to attack each other, but eventually we went the whole hog. Up until then, I had been the green troops, Cliffey the blue, but our merger saw us trade in both of those colours for a nice, Communist red*. JR and Sarah weren't best pleased, and they formed a similar alliance in protest (although it wasn't so much a coming together of military minds as it was Sarah signing over her troops and territories to her ginger overlord). Cliffey and I made a valiant push for victory, capturing most of Asia and North America in the process, but eventually the JR-Saz coalition brought the proverbial speaker down on top of us.
And so JR has gone, victorious, back to work. Uni for me kicks off on Monday, when I'll be dragging the ol' baritone in for its first 'improvisational approaches' session. What that will entail I'm not sure. Hopefully just two hours of unadulterated jammin'.
Joel.
*In an ideal world we'd have chosen the colour that would have resulted from mixing blue and green together, but seeing as bluey-green wasn't an option, we went with red. I like it because it's Liverpool's colour; Cliffey went with it because it's also Wales's.
Thursday 15 September 2011
Badly, I Groove
Late shift at my job last night.
Only joking, I don't have a job! What I actually did last night was play another gig with SCRIBER. It was only my third gig as a member of Josh's backing band - the first was supporting James Vincent McMorrow - and since our last performance had been a little...clumsy, it was imperative that we got it right this time. In fact, we were so deteremined to deliver the goods that we actually decided to rehearse a couple of times before the gig.
Rehearsal #1 was at Josh and Ed's house, and I decided to spice things up a bit by bringing my mandolin along. I basically just did it because I get bored waiting for an appropriate moment to play the drums, but my noodlings went down pretty well so we decided to throw it in. It made it a bit folkier, I suppose. Although we did set ten minutes aside during the rehearsal for a little Krautrock experiment on Ed's keyboard, and I think that would be a pretty good direction to take if the nu-folk bubble should burst.
Rehearsal #2 was at Tewkesbury Place, and was mostly spent trying to choose a song to cover. Unfortunately, it seems like there is no band that all three of us appreciate, so after much deliberation - as well as an extended jam of Anyone Else But You by The Moldy Peaches, the only song we all knew* - we scrapped the idea and told Josh he could just play his own shit
We had a brief rehearsal before the gig, too, just to make sure. But we didn't need it; by this point we could have played Led Zeppelin themselves into a cocked hat.
The sound guy was a bit annoyed - no-one had told him that he would have to deal with a mandolin - but apart from him everyone was in high spirits. Having decided that "Scriber" was a bit too singular for a three-piece, we passed the time between soundcheck and show by brainstorming names for the backing band. Some of my favourites:
Scriber & The Shoelaces
Scriber & The Sluts
Scriber & Ed & Joel
Scriber & The Rebircs
Scriber & The Super Dinosaurs The Shoot Lasers From Their Eyes
Josh, being the misery-guts he is, vetoed all of these and introduced as just Scriber. But we'll just see about that.
The gig went very well; our weeks of arduous rehearsal paid rich dividends. I missed my cue on the first song - Josh usually counts us in but instead he just nodded and it's hard to tell what number he's on with just nods - but otherwise it went great, and even my mandolin bits were pretty sweet although I do say so myself. We were treated to the luxury of awed silence, which made the quiet bits all the more electrifying and the loud bits all the more potent. And I do love the way that Josh, when people start applauding at the end of a song, will raise a hand to let them know that it's not finished yet and shush.
Best of all we played Badly, I Move (or 'The One With F' as Ed knows it), which is my favourite 'cause I actually get a decent thumping rhythm going on the drum.
The setlist, for anyone keeping score:
The Party
Mountain Man
Holland House
Slow Runner
Badly, I Move
The War & I
(Ed pointed out last night that no less than three of those songs are named 'something and something'. Can't see them all? Well there's "The War and I"; "Holl and House"; and of course, "Mount 'n' Man".
I ran off at the end of the set because, well, we finished later than I thought we would, and I had food and a Sarah waiting for me at home (not to mention my tonsillitis, which I used as my 'official' excuse). The other bands were probably great though. A girl from my course was in one of them so I feel a bit bad about my breach of gig etiquette but, eh, I was hungry. Sorry Sam!
Joel.
*Ed also did a very shouty rendition Steak For Chicken on electric guitar. I've never seen him so angry.
Only joking, I don't have a job! What I actually did last night was play another gig with SCRIBER. It was only my third gig as a member of Josh's backing band - the first was supporting James Vincent McMorrow - and since our last performance had been a little...clumsy, it was imperative that we got it right this time. In fact, we were so deteremined to deliver the goods that we actually decided to rehearse a couple of times before the gig.
Rehearsal #1 was at Josh and Ed's house, and I decided to spice things up a bit by bringing my mandolin along. I basically just did it because I get bored waiting for an appropriate moment to play the drums, but my noodlings went down pretty well so we decided to throw it in. It made it a bit folkier, I suppose. Although we did set ten minutes aside during the rehearsal for a little Krautrock experiment on Ed's keyboard, and I think that would be a pretty good direction to take if the nu-folk bubble should burst.
Rehearsal #2 was at Tewkesbury Place, and was mostly spent trying to choose a song to cover. Unfortunately, it seems like there is no band that all three of us appreciate, so after much deliberation - as well as an extended jam of Anyone Else But You by The Moldy Peaches, the only song we all knew* - we scrapped the idea and told Josh he could just play his own shit
We had a brief rehearsal before the gig, too, just to make sure. But we didn't need it; by this point we could have played Led Zeppelin themselves into a cocked hat.
The sound guy was a bit annoyed - no-one had told him that he would have to deal with a mandolin - but apart from him everyone was in high spirits. Having decided that "Scriber" was a bit too singular for a three-piece, we passed the time between soundcheck and show by brainstorming names for the backing band. Some of my favourites:
Scriber & The Shoelaces
Scriber & The Sluts
Scriber & Ed & Joel
Scriber & The Rebircs
Scriber & The Super Dinosaurs The Shoot Lasers From Their Eyes
Josh, being the misery-guts he is, vetoed all of these and introduced as just Scriber. But we'll just see about that.
The gig went very well; our weeks of arduous rehearsal paid rich dividends. I missed my cue on the first song - Josh usually counts us in but instead he just nodded and it's hard to tell what number he's on with just nods - but otherwise it went great, and even my mandolin bits were pretty sweet although I do say so myself. We were treated to the luxury of awed silence, which made the quiet bits all the more electrifying and the loud bits all the more potent. And I do love the way that Josh, when people start applauding at the end of a song, will raise a hand to let them know that it's not finished yet and shush.
Best of all we played Badly, I Move (or 'The One With F' as Ed knows it), which is my favourite 'cause I actually get a decent thumping rhythm going on the drum.
The setlist, for anyone keeping score:
The Party
Mountain Man
Holland House
Slow Runner
Badly, I Move
The War & I
(Ed pointed out last night that no less than three of those songs are named 'something and something'. Can't see them all? Well there's "The War and I"; "Holl and House"; and of course, "Mount 'n' Man".
I ran off at the end of the set because, well, we finished later than I thought we would, and I had food and a Sarah waiting for me at home (not to mention my tonsillitis, which I used as my 'official' excuse). The other bands were probably great though. A girl from my course was in one of them so I feel a bit bad about my breach of gig etiquette but, eh, I was hungry. Sorry Sam!
Joel.
*Ed also did a very shouty rendition Steak For Chicken on electric guitar. I've never seen him so angry.
Tuesday 13 September 2011
Marius Kart
I've got tonsillitis. Hooray! Coughing and sweat for all. I realise that's no excuse for neglecting my blogging duties over the past few days...or at least it wouldn't be for a man who didn't type with his tonsils.
Hell, I didn't really want to do this entry, but I came up with that awesome title and, even though this is more of a Cliffey story, I knew he wasn't going to update his blog. So I'm taking one for Team Tenuous Pun.
Cliffey, since returning from his European jaunt, has had the pleasure of spending rather a lot of one-on-one time with Marius. First everyone went to Green Man, then Sarah and I went to Scotland, and of course Pete's been looking at rocks in Neath for the best part of six weeks. Tom's been here, but he's got a girlfriend now (ew) so nobody's really seen much of him.*
Which, largely, has left young Cliffey mano-a-mano with our Albanian import. During their time together, he has learnt much about Marius; his personality, his culture, his likes (British history) and dislikes (gypsies, Arabs and gays). And, through it all, their bond has only gotten stronger.
Which, presumably, is how Cliffey ended up being Marius' own private taxi service. Oh, it started small - lifts to his friend's house in Llanedeyrn, or to his job in the bay - but the mileages crept up, and pretty soon he was taking him to Bridgend for whatever reason.
And yesterday, Cliffey got up at 5am to drive Mazza to Birmingham and back. It was something to do with his visa, something he could have done in Cardiff but would have had to wait a lot longer for if he had. And hey, since his close personal friend with a car Cliffey-boy had nothing better to do that he couldn't do another time, why not have an early morning road trip to the Midlands?
As it happens, Cliffey's just come in the room (he's very hungover - night out with work last night) so maybe he could reel off a few reasons why not:
...
Nope, he's too hungover. But suffice it to say that he didn't have fun. Suffice it also to say that I'm banking on the assumption that Marius does not read my blog.
As for my life, well, I'm working tonight. By which I mean Josh has a gig and he's asked me to play drum for him again. Also, I'm bringing the mandolin along this time.
Come back tomorrow to find out whether or not that was a good idea.
Joel.
*If any parts of this paragraph are news to you because I've neglected to mention something previously, well, now you now.
Hell, I didn't really want to do this entry, but I came up with that awesome title and, even though this is more of a Cliffey story, I knew he wasn't going to update his blog. So I'm taking one for Team Tenuous Pun.
Cliffey, since returning from his European jaunt, has had the pleasure of spending rather a lot of one-on-one time with Marius. First everyone went to Green Man, then Sarah and I went to Scotland, and of course Pete's been looking at rocks in Neath for the best part of six weeks. Tom's been here, but he's got a girlfriend now (ew) so nobody's really seen much of him.*
Which, largely, has left young Cliffey mano-a-mano with our Albanian import. During their time together, he has learnt much about Marius; his personality, his culture, his likes (British history) and dislikes (gypsies, Arabs and gays). And, through it all, their bond has only gotten stronger.
Which, presumably, is how Cliffey ended up being Marius' own private taxi service. Oh, it started small - lifts to his friend's house in Llanedeyrn, or to his job in the bay - but the mileages crept up, and pretty soon he was taking him to Bridgend for whatever reason.
And yesterday, Cliffey got up at 5am to drive Mazza to Birmingham and back. It was something to do with his visa, something he could have done in Cardiff but would have had to wait a lot longer for if he had. And hey, since his close personal friend with a car Cliffey-boy had nothing better to do that he couldn't do another time, why not have an early morning road trip to the Midlands?
As it happens, Cliffey's just come in the room (he's very hungover - night out with work last night) so maybe he could reel off a few reasons why not:
...
Nope, he's too hungover. But suffice it to say that he didn't have fun. Suffice it also to say that I'm banking on the assumption that Marius does not read my blog.
As for my life, well, I'm working tonight. By which I mean Josh has a gig and he's asked me to play drum for him again. Also, I'm bringing the mandolin along this time.
Come back tomorrow to find out whether or not that was a good idea.
Joel.
*If any parts of this paragraph are news to you because I've neglected to mention something previously, well, now you now.
Wednesday 7 September 2011
A Tale of Two Gigs
[Sarah and I went to see Willy Mason last night and my mum, eager to see my journalism career get off the ground, told me to do a write-up of the show and send it to some music magazines. Here's what I came up with.]
Willy Mason at The Point, Cardiff, 7/5/07
The Point, a former church that has been converted into a fully-functioning concert venue, makes a lovely backdrop for a gig. Particularly the stained glass windows. Still, it never hurts to go the extra mile, and so Willy Mason and his band are also treating us to a showing of The Dark Crystal, Jim Henson's seminal 1982 meditation on good and evil.
Willy Mason at The Gate, Cardiff, 6/9/11
Willy Mason has broken his thumb-pick. Holding its remains aloft, he asks the audience if, by any chance, somebody could lend him one.
It's not the first time that Mason has crossed the artist/audience divide. Previous tours have seen him performing in fans' living rooms and crashing on their sofas for the night. Sadly, nobody present has a spare pick, and so this golden opportunity to be part of the show passes and Mason simply has to tape his broken one back together.
This show comes a couple of months after the release of If The Ocean Gets Rough, the second Willy Mason album proper and follow-up to 2005's critically acclaimed Where The Humans Eat. Since that album his sound has expanded considerably, and tonight his country-folky musings are fleshed out by a full, electric, band, as well as his friend Nina Violet on viola.
There's no band tonight, just Willy and his electric guitar. It's been four quiet years or so since If The Ocean Gets Rough, Mason's last release, and he seems to have brought along a few new songs to try out. However, he forgoes the usual 'new stuff' patter - "this is a new one, it's going to be on my next record, hope you like it" - instead allowing the unfamiliar material to sit, unburdened, alongside the older cuts. You hardly notice the join.
The setlist is pretty evenly divided between his two albums - recent singles 'We Can Be Strong' and 'Save Myself' mingle nicely with songs like 'Where The Humans Eat', although admittedly the latter elicits a louder cheer from the crowd (as well as a gleeful cry of "MEEEEE!!" during the last verse). There are a few chestnuts, too; non-album track 'Mosquitoes' features only Mason and his acoustic guitar, and, for me, is one of the highlights.
The Gate used to be a Presbyterian church, but has since been turned into a rather charming arts centre. Until recently it was mostly used for plays and dance classes, but lately it's been gathering steam as a music venue and it could even fill the hole that The Point left in Cardiff's live scene when it was forced to close a few years ago. Tonight's audience is seated (some of them in pews, presumably left over from the venue's previous function), and one gets the feeling that this is far more of a 'concert' than a 'gig'. People are drinking red wine instead of lager. Enthusiastic bursts of applause follow each song, but otherwise we all just watch in slightly awed silence. Listen carefully, though, and you might just be able to hear the gentle tap of our approving feet.
The film projection certainly lends an air of psychedelia to what should have been a fairly straightforward folk-rock gig. Just like thousands of internet people have found a certain synchronicity between Dark Side of the Moon and The Wizard of Oz, there are moments tonight when Mason's lyrics could almost have been commissioned to soundtrack The Dark Crystal. Perhaps it's my imagination, but the likes of 'Simple Town' and 'When The Leaves Have Fallen' seem to go quite nicely with the lush fantasy landscapes and the innocence of the central characters. And when Mason's laptop runs out of battery in the middle of 'Riptide', thus cutting our viewing pleasure tragically short? Well, that's the end of the gig; he apologises, waves goodbye and heads offstage.
And then something wonderful happens: during the chorus of 'Riptide', a wistful song full of nostalgic longing for a simpler time...Mason burps. Hilarity ensues. He's very embarrassed, and apologises profusely, but if anything it's only endeared him to us all the more. The song continues, and while Mason has been completely thrown off his stride, he is helped to the conclusion by the audience, who - to a man - start clapping along to encourage him. It's rather heartwarming, actually.
Of course he comes back. Some rather drunk-sounding people in the audience have been belting out the chorus of 'So Long' in the hopes of having it belted back at them by the man himself, but instead he gives us a rendition of 'Oxygen', his breakthrough single. It's quiet but powerful, especially with everyone singing along, and it's a fitting end to tonight's proceedings.
When the music magazines first started talking about Willy Mason, he joined an ever-increasing group of singer-songwriters to have been christened "the next Dylan". Yes, his lyrics tend to flicker towards political dissatisfaction, but tonight his vocal betrays a slight country twang that, along with his ear for a great melody, perhaps places him closer to - similar names aside - Willie Nelson. So all hail Willy Mason - the new Willie.
Willy Mason at The Point, Cardiff, 7/5/07
The Point, a former church that has been converted into a fully-functioning concert venue, makes a lovely backdrop for a gig. Particularly the stained glass windows. Still, it never hurts to go the extra mile, and so Willy Mason and his band are also treating us to a showing of The Dark Crystal, Jim Henson's seminal 1982 meditation on good and evil.
Willy Mason at The Gate, Cardiff, 6/9/11
Willy Mason has broken his thumb-pick. Holding its remains aloft, he asks the audience if, by any chance, somebody could lend him one.
It's not the first time that Mason has crossed the artist/audience divide. Previous tours have seen him performing in fans' living rooms and crashing on their sofas for the night. Sadly, nobody present has a spare pick, and so this golden opportunity to be part of the show passes and Mason simply has to tape his broken one back together.
This show comes a couple of months after the release of If The Ocean Gets Rough, the second Willy Mason album proper and follow-up to 2005's critically acclaimed Where The Humans Eat. Since that album his sound has expanded considerably, and tonight his country-folky musings are fleshed out by a full, electric, band, as well as his friend Nina Violet on viola.
There's no band tonight, just Willy and his electric guitar. It's been four quiet years or so since If The Ocean Gets Rough, Mason's last release, and he seems to have brought along a few new songs to try out. However, he forgoes the usual 'new stuff' patter - "this is a new one, it's going to be on my next record, hope you like it" - instead allowing the unfamiliar material to sit, unburdened, alongside the older cuts. You hardly notice the join.
The setlist is pretty evenly divided between his two albums - recent singles 'We Can Be Strong' and 'Save Myself' mingle nicely with songs like 'Where The Humans Eat', although admittedly the latter elicits a louder cheer from the crowd (as well as a gleeful cry of "MEEEEE!!" during the last verse). There are a few chestnuts, too; non-album track 'Mosquitoes' features only Mason and his acoustic guitar, and, for me, is one of the highlights.
The Gate used to be a Presbyterian church, but has since been turned into a rather charming arts centre. Until recently it was mostly used for plays and dance classes, but lately it's been gathering steam as a music venue and it could even fill the hole that The Point left in Cardiff's live scene when it was forced to close a few years ago. Tonight's audience is seated (some of them in pews, presumably left over from the venue's previous function), and one gets the feeling that this is far more of a 'concert' than a 'gig'. People are drinking red wine instead of lager. Enthusiastic bursts of applause follow each song, but otherwise we all just watch in slightly awed silence. Listen carefully, though, and you might just be able to hear the gentle tap of our approving feet.
The film projection certainly lends an air of psychedelia to what should have been a fairly straightforward folk-rock gig. Just like thousands of internet people have found a certain synchronicity between Dark Side of the Moon and The Wizard of Oz, there are moments tonight when Mason's lyrics could almost have been commissioned to soundtrack The Dark Crystal. Perhaps it's my imagination, but the likes of 'Simple Town' and 'When The Leaves Have Fallen' seem to go quite nicely with the lush fantasy landscapes and the innocence of the central characters. And when Mason's laptop runs out of battery in the middle of 'Riptide', thus cutting our viewing pleasure tragically short? Well, that's the end of the gig; he apologises, waves goodbye and heads offstage.
And then something wonderful happens: during the chorus of 'Riptide', a wistful song full of nostalgic longing for a simpler time...Mason burps. Hilarity ensues. He's very embarrassed, and apologises profusely, but if anything it's only endeared him to us all the more. The song continues, and while Mason has been completely thrown off his stride, he is helped to the conclusion by the audience, who - to a man - start clapping along to encourage him. It's rather heartwarming, actually.
Of course he comes back. Some rather drunk-sounding people in the audience have been belting out the chorus of 'So Long' in the hopes of having it belted back at them by the man himself, but instead he gives us a rendition of 'Oxygen', his breakthrough single. It's quiet but powerful, especially with everyone singing along, and it's a fitting end to tonight's proceedings.
When the music magazines first started talking about Willy Mason, he joined an ever-increasing group of singer-songwriters to have been christened "the next Dylan". Yes, his lyrics tend to flicker towards political dissatisfaction, but tonight his vocal betrays a slight country twang that, along with his ear for a great melody, perhaps places him closer to - similar names aside - Willie Nelson. So all hail Willy Mason - the new Willie.
Tuesday 6 September 2011
Season Two
Hello and hi everyone. I've been in Scotland recently but as you may be fuzzily aware if you read this post, Cutlery has marched fearlessly into its second year. Which means, incidentally, that's we've been living in 6 Tewkesbury Place for a full 12 months now too.
So it won't be long until, once again, we all go back to uni. Pete and I will be starting the third years of our respective degrees, while Cliffey is entering his second (just like the blog!).
And while I'm sure that will give me plenty to talk about here, first of all I need to cover where I've been for the past nearly two weeks.
...Well, I've been in Scotland, like I said. The first night was spent at a Travelodge in Lancaster, and was complete with all the thrills that implies, followed by a jaunt up the M6 to our cottage in Clackmannanshire.
The nearest town was Dollar and we went there a couple of times to get fish and chips and ice cream. It was very quiet apart from an hour or so when all the high schoolers in the area simultaneously came out for lunch, at which point it was surprisingly busy.
Of course we visited many touristy destination points in Scotland, including:
The Wallace Monument in Stirling
Yes, Wallace as in Braveheart. My dad, brother and I climbed up the scary spiral staircase to see the view from the top but Sarah and my mum were too scared so they just went to the gift shop where Sarah bought this hat (that's not the best picture but it's a Highland Cow).
Loch Leven
Featuring the castle where Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned as well as some grouses that you could feed (that's actually a better picture of the cow hat, look at this instead of that one above).
The Camera Obscura Museum in Edinburgh
We arrived in Edinburgh on the last day of the fringe festival and saw an escapologist street performer (debate still rages on as to whether he was Scottish or American). Afterwards we went to this museum that was a bit like Techniquest but mainly the optical illusion side of things. Their main thing was a camera obscura that afforded a view all over the city, but we probably had more fun with the photobooth that could make you look like a monkey.
Fopp in Glasgow and Edinburgh
Once I realised that these cities had three Fopps between them, my bank account was doomed.
Edinburgh Zoo
Highlights included the penguin parade (reminiscent, I think, of the Squirtle Squad) and the two Sun Bears who seemed to want to kill each other.
But it wasn't all outings 'n' daytrips, nosir; there was plenty of stuff to do in the cottage too. We had a games room, which provided the perfect opportunity for a table football tournament (it came down to me versus my dad, and I foolishly threw away a two-nil lead to eventually lose five-three). Also lovely were the horses living near us, which Sarah was rather taken with. We fed them grass.
Our last few days north of the border were spent with Sarah's grandparents, as well as various relatives, which was lovely. Especially the amount of food we were given. Mind you, I did get a little weary of the following conversation, which I went through with a great number of aunts and neighbours:
"So what do you do, Joel?"
"I'm just going into my third year at university."
"And what do you study?"
"Music."
"Oh, aye, and what do you hope to do with that when you finish?"
"...Teaching?"
Such were my floundering attempts to sound respectable. I'm back at the Atrium from the 19th of September, so I guess I'll have to start working it out then.
That was a nice way of bringing it full circle, wasn't it?
Joel.
P.S. I had resolved to try haggis while we were there but, alas, I did not. Although I did have a pizza with cactus on it.
So it won't be long until, once again, we all go back to uni. Pete and I will be starting the third years of our respective degrees, while Cliffey is entering his second (just like the blog!).
And while I'm sure that will give me plenty to talk about here, first of all I need to cover where I've been for the past nearly two weeks.
...Well, I've been in Scotland, like I said. The first night was spent at a Travelodge in Lancaster, and was complete with all the thrills that implies, followed by a jaunt up the M6 to our cottage in Clackmannanshire.
The nearest town was Dollar and we went there a couple of times to get fish and chips and ice cream. It was very quiet apart from an hour or so when all the high schoolers in the area simultaneously came out for lunch, at which point it was surprisingly busy.
Of course we visited many touristy destination points in Scotland, including:
The Wallace Monument in Stirling
Yes, Wallace as in Braveheart. My dad, brother and I climbed up the scary spiral staircase to see the view from the top but Sarah and my mum were too scared so they just went to the gift shop where Sarah bought this hat (that's not the best picture but it's a Highland Cow).
Loch Leven
Featuring the castle where Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned as well as some grouses that you could feed (that's actually a better picture of the cow hat, look at this instead of that one above).
The Camera Obscura Museum in Edinburgh
We arrived in Edinburgh on the last day of the fringe festival and saw an escapologist street performer (debate still rages on as to whether he was Scottish or American). Afterwards we went to this museum that was a bit like Techniquest but mainly the optical illusion side of things. Their main thing was a camera obscura that afforded a view all over the city, but we probably had more fun with the photobooth that could make you look like a monkey.
Fopp in Glasgow and Edinburgh
Once I realised that these cities had three Fopps between them, my bank account was doomed.
Edinburgh Zoo
Highlights included the penguin parade (reminiscent, I think, of the Squirtle Squad) and the two Sun Bears who seemed to want to kill each other.
But it wasn't all outings 'n' daytrips, nosir; there was plenty of stuff to do in the cottage too. We had a games room, which provided the perfect opportunity for a table football tournament (it came down to me versus my dad, and I foolishly threw away a two-nil lead to eventually lose five-three). Also lovely were the horses living near us, which Sarah was rather taken with. We fed them grass.
Our last few days north of the border were spent with Sarah's grandparents, as well as various relatives, which was lovely. Especially the amount of food we were given. Mind you, I did get a little weary of the following conversation, which I went through with a great number of aunts and neighbours:
"So what do you do, Joel?"
"I'm just going into my third year at university."
"And what do you study?"
"Music."
"Oh, aye, and what do you hope to do with that when you finish?"
"...Teaching?"
Such were my floundering attempts to sound respectable. I'm back at the Atrium from the 19th of September, so I guess I'll have to start working it out then.
That was a nice way of bringing it full circle, wasn't it?
Joel.
P.S. I had resolved to try haggis while we were there but, alas, I did not. Although I did have a pizza with cactus on it.
Saturday 3 September 2011
A Telegram From Scotland
THANKS CLIFFEY FOR SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY UPDATE STOP "CAT-STAMPING HANGOVER" WILL HENCEFORTH ENTER MY EVERYDAY USAGE STOP CURRENTLY STAYING WITH SARAH'S GRANDPARENTS STOP SARAH'S GRANDPA SAYS FOOTBALLERS THESE DAYS ARE "A BUNCH OF DOOLIES" STOP GOT THE TRAIN TO AYR TODAY AND MET SARAH'S AUNTY FOR LUNCH STOP I BOUGHT AN EDITORS TAB BOOK FROM WATERSTONE'S STOP STAY IN COTTAGE NEAR DOLLAR WAS LOVELY STOP ENGAGED IN MANY ACTIVITIES FROM ZOO VISITS TO PING-PONG TOURNAMENTS STOP WILL GO INTO MORE DETAIL UPON RETURNING ON TUESDAY STOP LOVE JOEL STOP
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