There are some bands (at least names) that are always there in the background, but somehow never seem to quite get noticed. My CD collection I have come to realise contains six albums by The Wedding Present, and my diary recalls having seen the band live previously three times between 1987 and 1989, and twice as The Ukranians in the early 1990s.
I seem to vaguely recall one of these shows in Oxford when they 'supported' the amazing Biggy Tempo(??) and the Bhundu Boys.
SImilarly, music venues that just 'hang on in there' are equally appealling, quietly gathering history and developing a pedigree that seems enhanced by the sticky floors and absence of new paint.
One such place that will always hold special memories is the Wedgewood Rooms in Portsmouth, and a chance to catch up with the Wedding Present again on the George Best 20th Anniversary Tour. But this is not nostalgia, this is now. Gedge has never gone away and is not making a 'comeback' via the 1980s Whole Album bandwagon clattering past his back door.
Another expression of retro-future perhaps, but it has never sounded as fresh and right as it did this evening.
The set was brilliantly compiled but surprised me at th ebeginning. Having not done my research properly I was expecting the album, and then some, but to open with an unfamiliar song surprised me.
A distant bell rings in my memory and by the time the song is over I vaguely recall my copy of SeaMonsters lurking in the back of the cupboard. I have never 'got' this one, and it remains one of those albums I have only played once and preferred to forget about. Then its straight into Brassneck, and suddenly the forty-somethings in front of me launch into one another and start moshing around as if its the most natural thing to do.
I stayed just behind the mass of bodies at first, trying to work out what was going on as Mr Gedge introduced a 'new song' called 'Don't Take me Home Till I'm Drunk' or something. Typically insightful witty lyrics but more Cinemera than Weddoes. His introduction was classic. "Don't worry. We are gonna play George Best, in full, but well, it's a bit short so we thought we'd throw in a few other things as well. This is a new song, so if you need the toilets…"
Yeah Yeah yeah Yeah slipped in somewhere I recall? Then some solid, rhymic but still-quite-slow guitar work with his typical back to audience posture, slowly turning, smiling and waiting for those few seconds of silence as the needle goes down on Side One of the LP.
"Oh why do you..."
A huge roar, and two thirds of the room becomes a moshpit of elbows and pushing. I always have this self-conscience moment at gigs before I start dancing because my usually more reserved colleagues tend to make me feel rather like someone's dad at a wedding, dancing as if to deliberately embarass both myself and them.Didn't take long to throw caution into the very good-natured crowd of people and the rest of the gig was an absolute pleasure as the whole of the album was played out in order.
Some of the old favourites understandly went down best, and for me that includes 'A Milliuon Miles', 'Shatner' and 'Anyone can make A Mistake'
Thankyou. That was George Best.
Only an hour then. Seems like we've been here all night.
There's ome banter with the audience, some noodlings and chordss when it emerges the drummer has put a stick thru one of his skins. A young attractive female roadie? Work that one out
"You've lost your love of life
Too much apple pie"
Listening to these songs again it is glaringly obvious that Gedge is master at what he does. His hand gestures draw attention to his stories of infidelity and arguments. In fact that's it - aren't all Wedding Present songs the scripts of break-ups and make-ups? The lyrics - simple thoughts, conversations and observations - fall effortlessly into the melodies and songs like the awesome "Kennedy" are genius in their simplicity. Haven't we all felt the pain of someone else's hand on our Favourite Dress?

And talking of great moments in world history, remember the Twelve Singles in Twelve Months record from 1992? Of course you do. Gedge and the band ended their set (we don't do encores, remember?) with another one, the fan-pleasing Flying Saucer.

It's refreshing to hear short songs live. Few of the songs from George Best last more than three mnutes, and they were reproduced faithfully tonight by musicians that didn't perform on the originals.
David Gedge is a master, and this tour is a lesson in how to do retrospective shows. To be honest, he blew everything else I've seen this year out of the water. One of the best gigs I have ever seen and I'm excited now at the thought of brushing the dust of that SeaMonsters vinyl.
I don't generally do recommendations, but I'd seriously consider catching up the Wedding Present during November if you can.
Faster, faster
…thanks, and GIve my Love to Kevin.

Five out of five. Top bananas

I hadn't realised that it's been a week since my last entry, which is ridiculous. Of course, I have no idea what I have been up to or what has made up that week.
I've been off work since Wednesday when we all went up to visit Tx's brother in Stamford. Excellent couple of days in their Big House (FIVE double bedrooms) spending time with little Harry (coming up six months) and the dog George that everyone absolutely loves, especially Baggins. She seems to have an affinity with all animals, and likes nothing more than toddling up to ta dog or a cat and bending right down so she can rest her head on them somehow. She always says "aaaaaw" when she does ths and it makes everybody laugh.

Stan particularly enjoyed the 'conker walk' we ejoyed on Wednesday afternoon, along a bridleway that runs over the A1 and passes the spectacular Wothorpe Towers on its southern boundary:

Which, apparently was recently filmed as part of a Doctor Who episode.
I have never watched the 21st century version.

In fact, such is my ignorance and increasing loathing of television that I rather upset Tx by appearing quite rude on Wednesday night.
We (the four adults) retired to the TV lounge and shared two huge four seater sofas in front of a 46" flatscreen tele.
I'm already tense of course - I generally don't do 'nothng' of an evening.
So the TV is on. Tx and K are chatting throughout and enjoying a sparkling conversation whcih I sat n the edge of but couldn't hear or follow because of the tele. I couldn't hear or follow the TV either for the sound of the conversation. And then Uncle D takes a phone call from their sister for the best part of an hour, talking with her cross both the other sound sources. So with my 'failing' hearing (and I do worry about this...) I was unable to really hear anythng at all and so just sort of sat there feeling awkward and in a rather distant silence.

What is the point of putting the TV on and then talking all over it?
And if you have guest you want to catch up with, why put the f*kking thing on at all???
I will never understand this.

Thursday we drove back on the A1 to Hitchin to visit Tx dad, and found hm in good health and good spirits.
Picked a million apples but found only one mushroom, which was disappointing for the kids.
Nightmare drive back yesterday evening though which took us four and a half hours!!! chock a block all down the M1 from Luton Airport to the M25, then the same from the M40 round to the M3.

Hey - lets widen the roads shall we, then we can jam them up with even more cars.

Then last night I think a sort of exhaustion took over me and I had virtually no sleep, but lie in bed (and later on the sofa) letting calm thoughts of everything just wash over me. This has resulted ina quiet and emotional day for me to day because I suddenly feel overwhelmed by all that I do. When it is pointed out by family that I "do so many thngs" it sometimes hits home and makes me wonder. Far more recently than I ever did before.

So today should have been quiet, but I have spent much of it working on a home contract for the AA (Cristmas spending money) and then some time in the New Forest helping Flo and her Guide unit put up a couple of Big tents for her weekend away.

I did find half an hour early on to sit in the church which was restorative.

And this afternoon/evening I have been on the phone as usual for hours, including setting up my first trip over to Ledbury to visit Ris and work on the metamatic archive in his study. Should be a fascinating day, but again involves a drive of over 100 miles in each direction and relies on Tx to do the teatime/bedtime session on her own. It's getting too much and is one of the main reasons why the Luminaire gig in London at the end of November will be my last 'away trip' for a while. I have seriously considered not going at all, but Ris has gone out of his way to make sure I get full access to both shows that Ifeel I can't refuse now and have run out of excuses.
Of course, it will be a good show too, but I'm already not looking forwrd to travelling home on the train in the early hours.

Last night's free gig at The Labour Club in Northampton was simply extraordinary. Andy Skank who MCs there is getting a BIG reputation on the scene locally and emerging nationally as one of the most innovative promoters on the circuit.
When a contact in Coventry called him up, unable to provide a venue for outstanding singer-songwriter Baby Dee, about to embark on a world tour to promote her new album "Drag City" Andy was brave, committed and insightful enough to recognise a unique opportunity and immediately put together an night of experimental performers at his local venue to accommodate a unique, and emerging international artist.

To say the the Labour Club is small would be to exaggerate its size by abour 200%. It's a pub, in a back street, in a nowhere town. The stage is about 12ft square.
We arrived at 8.30 and there were about six people there, two old men in flat caps, a hhee-owge dog and half a dozen long-haired children in wellies. The bar sold Pepsi in bottles for a quid, and two different sorts of crisps. And Andy, battling with a plethora in the instruments and worrying about how to mic up a harp.
Also present, freestyle drummer and experimental percussionist Alex Nielson , most famously known for his recent work with Bonnie "Prince" Billy, and performing first tonight as The Directing Hand.
Nielson looks like a young Scott Walker, so the fact that his three ten minute orchestral pieces sounded like nothing else on Earth should have been no surprise. The collective multitude of instruments he and his partner used, and their wailing vocals trying to speak in some kind of prehuman language is combined with over-sustained dronings, bells dragged over cymbals, bird-whistles and a whole orchestral armoury. The result was totally watsed on the audience of thrity who just didn't get it.
Not the right place at all for innovative genius, and people clearly hadn't come to be scared out of their wits.
As Mrs Pilgrimm found, clearly uncomfortable with the terrible sound system and the ingorant background talking. Alone on stage she relies on the expert use of a series of delay pedals to fill the space, capturing live loops which she then accompanies to create dissonant but full bodied harmonies. Occasionally she used a bow, but seemed much happier pluckng and stroking the strings. her second album is more experimental than the first, but she had some fans present who warmed the room up nicely for the main act.
Baby Dee defies description and is like no-one you have seen or heard before. Probably about 9ft tall, a transgender performer with Wild red hair, a fur coat, and the biggest hands and boots you've ever seen. And such a tiny, tiny voice. She was obviously pissed off with the venue and the inadequate sound, and again the people who chose to talk over the first song, the delicious hymn "Calvary". This is the first time Dee has performed these songs with a band, tonight made up of a bass player and held together, reinterpreted and generally carried off by the incredible Nielson again. This guy is seriously good, one of the best interpretive drummers in the UK right now.
After three numbers though, Dee began to cry and called the show to a halt until "those naughty people" who kept talking were removed.

Why was this show here? Why was it free? Questions as unfathomable as the music.

Then the fairy dust was sprinkled, the harp was re-miced and her fingers worked their magic. A dozen or so songs from her back catalogue (Morning Star, Look What the Wind Blew In) performed to a hushed, dedicated and totally bemused audience of less than fifty. It was a real shame that her voice is so weak and delicate that we couldn't hear the lyrics or the vocal at all too much. Skank may have felt embarassed at the inadequacies of his venue, but those who understood were mesmermerised and he deserves a medal for his achievements there.

Baby Dee was last night, is and can only become more unbelievable. Totally mesmerising against impossible odds. Extraordinary isn't a word I use lightly, but she is one of the most original performers I have ever seen and it is wonderful to see her Black Ship on the horizon at last. David Tibet, Anthony, Marc Almond, Pantaleimon and Bonnie Prince Billy have already made a berth in their harbours. Let us all do likewise, for with Alex Nielson on board this is a creative force with vision, energy and passion that deserve to be heard.

The Robins Tiny Throat is out now on Durtro Records, and Drag City will be released in January.

... which will hopefully be knocked down with the same rock thrown tomorrow.

It's all falling into place rather nicely, and I feel encouraged. Biscuit is coming round here at 10.30 to deliver her laptop, which she has sold to her sister. At around 12.30 I will be setting off for Northampton with said laptop. Mum and Dad expect to be back from their 40th Birthday lunch with my sister around 2.00, so my arrival at their house is timed to be roughy 2.30 Apparently, we haven't seen them since August.
Cup of tea and a chat with them for an hour or so, and I will then go up to my sister's with her birthday present for the same at her house until they have to 'kick me out' about 4.30 when all the other-in-laws etc start to arrive for a big dinner party.
This is the time when I will head in to town to meet Kink from work, deliver the laptop and collect a box of 'other things' that Girl 2 has left behind. Dinner with her and Dan, and then back ino the Labour Club for Baby Dee's gig with Miss Pilgrim.

I don't imagine I would make the journey for any one of these reasons alone, but all together they should make for a very worthwhile and rewarding day.

... are what makes me realise how stressed I can be most of the time.
A rare day off, and working from home to catch up on the AA Walks contract.
Which I haven't started yet but seems quite straightforward.
I am terrible for procrastination and have rather put it off too long.

But I had to make the most today of the stunning wweather, a great example of why these October days are my favourite and bring me to life.
Bright sunshine and a crisp cold air - perfect light in fact for birding.

Once a birder, always a birder. I strolled alon gto the Bridge this morning to catch up with the Red-throated Diver I saw briefly yesterday morning. Thanks to HOS for the tip off.

No sign of it from the bridge itself, and it was a little frustrating. Until I went down to the Hard and looked back, and there it was, close as you like, just doing its thing in th open water.
Watched it for five minutes, preening, flapping (never seen one 'standing up' on the water before as ducks do to dry off. Then it dived and bizarrely I couldn't relocate it for the next half hour.
Some other good birdies about tho including:-
Kingfisher (down o 10metres)
Redshank, Oystercatcher, Common Sandpiper
Great Spotted Woodpecker, Grey Wagtail and a Jay.

What's so exciting about a Jay?
Well I've never scoped one flying across water before.
beautiful looking birds of course, and nice to see one even slightly out of context.

So relaxing. Very, very welcome after the excitement of picking up the new van yesterday...

Curse those Sad Songs...

Baby Dee is an inspirational artist.
I just wrote this picking up on a tiny thread weaving through one of the songs.

Probably the first time I have ever written of The Forgotten Years, no doubt brought on now by the fact that I miss Biscuit daily. It is far worse having her so close.
Brought ot tears by my own writing. That's a weird and scary thought.

Calls for Daddy

When I hear her sweet voice
Sweet voice in love's song
When I hear that music
How could I not sing?

I think what's going on is that Dee taps into a vein of anxiety that runs very, very deep.
She sings a lot of songs about her father, who I imagine was either absent or abusive or both.
The lyrics touch feelings of sadness, pain, loss as well as love and longing.
From my perspective, I can relate to her so acutely, but transpose the anguish to the man's perspective.
I have felt the absence, regret, guilt and bitterness.

It is painful to hear that piano banging on the inside of my head.
I celebrate reconciliation and praise the forgiveness that has been shown to me.

Daddies hurt too, even when they are Not There

What about my Father?
What song shall I choose?
What song can reach him?
Shouldn't he have a morning too

What is this telling me??

What a beautiful song title. Perfect sums up this Baby Dee album.
Very intense and moving piece of work...
I announced at Church on Sunday my intention to set up a working party to manage, run and develop the Church Grounds which are beginning to look decidedly shabby. Our resident caretaker is now too ill to do the work, and he has never had a plan. Apparently its been more than SEVEN years since anyone tried to give the Grounds some serious attention, and moreor less now all that ever gets done is some grasscutting and the Work days held twice a year.
One is coming up this Saturday and a lot will get done, but then no -one will think about it again until May!
So I have asked for a half dozen volunteers to form a relatively autonomous group to work on the garden throughout the yer, according to a plan and with a budget etc.
Too 'business like'? Maybe, but at least with a model in place we can roughen up the edges until it suits us.
Like the website. Been to visit the webmaster this evening for an hour to catch up with the next phase of the site. It's all up an drunning and looks great, we now just need to approve our privacy policy at PCC and then identify the three or four of us that will have access to the site to upload and edit stuff.
Most of the technical code-speke leaves me cold, but it really seems quite straightforward enough to add pages and text and images.
Really pleased with how this has worked out, and its good to see DT so pleased with his work and hopefully empowered by it all.
he has asked me to introduce a discussion about a Youth Cell too, which is an idea that came to him during last night's meeting with the Highfield Standing Committee.
As part of our plans to deal with Parochial Re-organisation when the time comes, we invited members of our neighbouring church (whose churchmanship and history is quite similar) down to see us and have a chat about who we are, what we do and where we are going etc.
It was interesting, informal and quite informative but I wonder how much further we can go with it. They seemed quite distant and hesitant, and it did seem rather apparent that they were responding out of politeness rather than with any enthusiasm. BUt we shall see, communication can only be a good thing.

Which is why I feel quite encouraged by developments at work, although it has been a difficult week since Jo's review last Tuesday. She really managed to at last express all her issues with D and came close to tears at one point. Since then, I've been worrying a little (and praying a lot) for some guidance as to how to respond and put her criticisms to him. That was today, over lunch, and it was difficult but quite rewarding. He responded positively after the initial shock, and seemed quite OK with the idea that the two of them have a chat at whih I act as mediator. Scary thought. But then he went on to express his side of things obviously, and seemed more pi**ed off than I expected with being left to get on with Sales. The reaction of course to his insistence that that is "all he wants to do" is to effectively isolate himself from whatever else is going on. He's done this kind of on purpose, to allow me space to fill the managerial role we talked about ages ago. Today he confirmed that is what he would like, for me to declare myself MD and actually run the company, promising the best intentions to be more responsive in return for more motivation, reviews, instruction and nurturing.
I am a little gobsmacked, but its a majorstep in the right direction.

So is the loan that clears next week and the van that arrives tomorrow!!

I also purchase today a lovely new 24" imac for Tina, and upgraded to CS3. I do like spending money...

Actually, in all seriousness that is one lesson I definitely learned at church last night. The treasurer at Highfield described his own attitude to their (very large) turnover as 'somewhat cavalier, or brave, or rash depending on your point of view'. But I htink for too long we have been beating ourselves up over having a very small financial resource and seeing it as a restriction. I'll be encouraging a more pro-active response to spending I think, because a visible expression of progress will yeild positive results.

What else?

Music goes madder than mad.
CDs this week include:-

The Complete Peel Sessions - The Fall
Dark Orgasm - Julian Cope
Bastards and Orphans - Tom Waits
Astronomy for Dogs - the ALiens
Scorpio Rising - Death in Vegas

Also actually paid for a real packaged disc (!!!!) at last direct from Durtro which I am playing now called The Robin's Tiny Throat - a 2CD compilation of the first two Baby Dee albums and an EP.

I'm a little annoyed that Kink can't/won't get the day off on Friday for my visit to Northampton. Instead I'm going to my sisters in the afternoon (its her 40th!) and then into town to meet Kink from work and hopefully have dinner with her before the gig.

Foxx has been up and down, with fansites now appearing and all trying to nick each other's content.
Ris is (or was) in despair and phoned Suandy for a restorative rant.

This japanese cartoon has been found on line. Dates from 81-82. Bizarre.
I will see if I can get one of Tx's friends to translate for us.

It's a funny thing, going for a beer with friends and inviting new people into the group. Of course that's the whole point about the Evolution of Friendship, each of us bringing new people into the circle and getting to know others.
This evening could be summarised as "I don't just…" in the following way:-

I don't just have kids
I have seven

I don't just have faith
I'm churchwarden

I don't just like music
I'm writing a biography

I don't just have a job
I own a company

I don't just have old lovers
I speak to them in the street

Telling other people about the way my life works is always interesting and quite revealing.
I am prone to believe that other people's lives are equally as complex and inspiring but in a different way, and it never ceases to amaze me that for many people, my lifestyle and history is a bit unusual?
And there are occasions (now amongst them) that eac one of these statements could blow my head. I have SEVEN children FFS. Is that ridiculous? As ridiculous as wearing my beard only on my chin?

I get excited about Buff -bellied Pipits at Farmoor in Oxford.

A beautiful looking bird. There is a big part of me still gripped of fby last week's amazing rarity. A second for the year too, with one on Scilly a few days early. My heart belongs at Farmoor and the place will always be very special to me. For two years I watched it every day, and dfor a five year period it was my patch. Life-ticked Leach's Petrel and GN Diver there.
But now I do not go birding. I have more to do and life has moved on. But I still yearn for moments like this, and feel a twinge of jealousy ad frustration to have not been able to go and share this unique experience.

Is that arrogant? I hope not.

Tonight we went to the Dolphin for the first time in a year. It is still three doors from Paula, and she was still there, looking out of her bedroom window.
She is still gorgeous and I still want to go back in...

And now, just hours away, I take part in running a Mission Audit workshop.
Life is good.

J.F. D. I.

October 9th, Southampton Guildhall

I went to this show courtesy of a marketing contact, and it was never going to be my cup of tea.
Which is always entirely the wrong attitude to start with and difficult to recover from. The support act helped - a stunning set from Sunshine Underground and their blend of PiL, The Weddoes, Buzzcocks etc. But too, too loud.
The Mondays started badly. The sound was bloody awful and opening the set with a pisspoor version of th classic Kinky Affro was a mistake. I held my head in my hands. Oh no - it really is going to bea s bad as I feared...
Ryder was unintelligible and the light show was blinding. In the literal sense. The band did improve though and from the cacophonous sonic soup of the first half of the set they moved into a distinctly better second phase once the sound levels were sorted. For the last third, I was even able to make out different instruments! The earlier material held the set together and included Hallelujah (best track), Loose Fit and Step On which was terminally Bad, as well as a surprising (competent and enjoyable) version of 24 Hour Party People to close the set.
And just a one track encore? "For Tony. The dead bloke." Ryder is Ryder and Ryder is an asshole. Twenty years ago, Bez on drugs dancing his face off was a pretty cool gimmick. Now he just wanders to and fro across the stage looking ridiculous.
£25 for a 70 minute show? I don't think so! Thank heavens for the pink wrist band.
Of the new stuff, only Dysfunktional Uncle seemed to have any form, and most of the rest came over as rambling and ultimately pointless.

Sunday's twin baptism went off really well - it was wonderful to see the Old Church packed with nearly 200 people. Shame those at the back couldn't actually see or hear anything!
Neither did I, as the catering was rather a Big Deal and the three of of us were confined to the kitchen throughout, with a short reprsie to take communion. Interesting to see Petrina and Richard there. Just goes to show you can never tell by looking at people:P

We ended up serving 120 people and virtually no food was wasted. Except about 40 jacket souds, which all managed to go to good homes anyway. I did think at the time that serving rice AND pasta as well was rather over-doing it, but it was A's day and on that issue I let him have his way. people were very generous and donated lots of dishes, so we actually cooked very little. It was more a management and logistics exercise to get that many people seate din the hall, serve them effectively and clear up afterwards.
Exhausting, but very, very satisfying and everyone commented how enjoyable the day was. that's the only result that matters really, so all in all a job well done.

Saturday before this we had Biscuit for dinner to catch up with how she is settlign in and give her a decent hot meal! the catering at the Hall is really poor. It's not what she wante din the first place, but as a strict vegetarian she is really suffering. Her diet means she does not eat fish or eggs (quite clearly stated on the app form!) as well as the usual meat etc, so they knew what to expect. the menu does NOT cater for this at all and, in my opinion, is failing in its duty of care to provide a nutritionally balanced meal. now i KNOW she's a fresher and has three years of crap food ahead of her, but I have no problem wth that if she prepares it herself. But the hall has a duty of care if it chooses to take that responsibility. And of course the extra money, which is not justifiable given my experiences of the last week.
She's been a littl ebored at times to, so hopefully today's first lecture should have sorted a few things out and set her off in a better frame of mind. Glad to see she's enjoying everything else though.

Meanwhile her sister Kink (Girl 1) is looking forward to my visit on the 19th. It transpires that Baby Dee is performing in Northampton (WAAAAAAGH!!!) which as far as I am concerned is absolutely unmissable

Baby Dee was born in Cleveland Ohio. Her father was a fire chief. She loved to play the piano as a child and began her "professional career" as a bear in Central Park playing the harp. At that time she did not know how to play a harp but people tend to be less critical of bears than they are of other people so the bear made money and Baby Dee could drink beer.
The bear went to Paris because that is what a young american bear must do if she wants to become a princess and be cultured and have strange and exotic men and women lavish money and affection on her. There she met the wonderful people who called themselves "The Shanghai Bureau" and played the harp with them in very beautiful places. She came back to New York {The bear stayed in Paris -- proof positive that bears are smarter than people) and began the dark descent into the ignominious and shameful world of serious music.
Having recovered her senses some fifteen years later she became an accordion playing cat (some would say a very sexy accordion playing cat) and commissioned a very talented man named George Bliss to create for her a high rise tricycle so she could ride in style with her concert harp and rule the streets of lower Manhattan. (No humble bear ever had it so good.)
She worked at the Coney Island Sideshow and toured with the Bindlestif Circus. She met Antony of "Antony and the Johnsons" and did shows and recorded the harp parts on that wonderful first album. Then she went back to Europe and traveled to Scotland where she met John Kamikaze -- The Prince of Pain and benevolent despot of The Kamikaze Freak Show.
Then something mysterious happened and she left everything (lots of very heavy and expensive things) in Ghent and came back to Cleveland Ohio where she became a tree climber. While in Cleveland she wrote songs and recorded two albums "Little Window" and "Loves Small Song." David Tibet befriended her and released them on his Durtro label. Baby Dee is also a member of the Current 93 live band and she has ongoing collaborations with the experimental band Larsen

I'm looking forward not only to this of course, but also a much postponed and long overdue visit to my daughter's flat!

Feelings are mixed and I have some anxiety about bringing these girls inot the spotlight very soon. Yes everyone knows of their existence etc, but I have painted myself into a corner when it comes to talking about them, particulalry among 'church' friends. Up to the point I chose the Christian path I have always quite pro-actively compartmentalised my life and kept things each neatly in its own box.
I have described my discovery of faith as rather like pouring water into a glass of icecubes.
All the parts are there nd have always been there, but there was never really anything before holding it all together. So now more recently as my life comes together in just about every which way, I feel uncomfortable knowing that many of my friends don't know anything at all about this part of my life story.
Shameful perhaps, but it how I have chosen to deal with it up to this point.
But their polite questions are beginning to meet an embarrassed changing of the conversation, and to be honest they deserve more than that. I feel strongly that He is pushng me gently forward to play my cards now and it feels very awkward.

Something to discuss in the pub on Friday night, and with Mr Vicar when we get togetehr later in the month.

Tomorrow night its the Happy Mondays on the Unkle Dysfunktional tour courtesy of free tickets with compliments of the Guildhall. I'm all for anything life of course, but I have a dreadful feeling that this will be crap. I've researched a it and the Fe festival this summer was awful! All reviews are similarly bad, and I never liked them in the first place.

Tonight Foxx is at cargo on the 'last night' of the Metamatic tour, apparently previewing new material in the foyer and onc. a VJ set from Karborn.
My inbox is overflowing with mail about this event and others, including several press cuttings forarded directly to me from SM. Another interesting development.

Well now, where do you start!

This album comprises original music in four parts composed by Scott Walker as the score to an interpretative dance piece for the CanCo Dance Company and performed on the South Bank recently by the London Sinfonietta.

It's music you can see, if you are not too scared too watch it, and has all the trademarks of Walker's recent output except the most obvious one - any vocals. Yet somehow by its very abscence Walker's distinctive, quavering voice is even more powerful, brooding, sinister, threatening and mind-buggeringly frightening than ever! How can this be? Beats me, and yet its there, haunting every track, hiding behind every tree. Somehow waiting.
And we wait for it too, uncomfortable in the knowledge that it is not there.

It's as if we are lost without it. We become the discordant violins running demonically between the crashing cellos, crashing wildly into one another. Here and there among the industrial drones and the rattling cymbals are the merest fragments of melody, but no sooner do we become aware of them and seek shelter in their company they are gone, thrown carelessly into the air with the rest of the loose ends.
And Who Shall Go to the Ball just builds and ominously builds, oozing atmosphere. Its expectant, foreboding narrative is (particularly in Part 3, the strongest track) at times brooding and sensuous and always unpredictable. As well as casually discarded snatches of melody there are elements of free-style interpretative jazz reminiscent of Robert Wyatt's Cuckooland, just flitting among the undergrowth like unseasonally late butterflies.
It closes with the darkest, apocryphal Track 4 which is truly cataclsymic. An extended D note drones to the fade, scratched and slapped at by another lost and hopelessly viola.

Enough adjectives? I think so - my head hurts.
Like The Drift earlier in the year, I am stunned by a piece of music. Scared, bewildered and yet mesmerised and refreshed.
To put Scott Walker's music into a box is to destroy it completely. This is pretty much on the edge of my experience, and of course for that reason alone, I think I absolutely love it.

But then to realise that Walker himself isn't here at all makes me feel uneasy. He is in every note, every scratch, every thundering dis-chord. He just eludes your outstretched fingers...

Perhaps its no wonder I feel tired and drained when I look back on my weekend, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm a great advocate of the "Life's What You make It" line of thought, and I genuinely and passionately believe that the real value of an act and the satisfaction that comes from it is directly proportional (at least to a large extent) by the effort you put into it.

There is absolutey no excuse whatsoever for "not being bothered", and it is inexcusable to suggest that being "bored" is someone else's fault.

But anyway, yes, I don't do preaching.

Disappointed by the morning rain on Saturday and it meant that Girl 4 had to spend her weekend under canvas in the New Forest getting wet and cold. She's exhausted now, but had a great time and is quite keen to repeat the exercise in February.
After lunch - what is the appeal of bagels? they are so 'heavy'... - I decided to cycle (it was dry by 2pm) to get the train so that Tx had a marginally easier afternoon of it and was on the way to London by 3.08.
All worked out really well.
Except that, for some strange reason being in the Theatre watching JF do his sound check and offering to lend a hand stacking up the merchandising table, left me rather uninispired and I am now questionning again the awkwardness of having a foot in both camps. Not yet entrenched on the "other" side yet of course (didn't get a nice pink armband for instance) but now I'm convinced I don't really want to go that way. Spoke to Ris about this and he's of course had good experienc eof both and understands. I think to an extent his Bestival expereience was somewhat tarnished by being "in" rather than just watching from outside.
Don't get me wrong though, the performance itself was stunning.
especially Tiny ColourMovies which is probably now establishing itself as a cornerstone of john's work and certainly for my monet his best and most important album. Several new bits and pieces mixed in.

Electro Duchamp maybe, to paraphrase his reference to 'techno Turner'.

Metamatic disappointed me.
Far far too much of it was not 'live' and John was reading most of the lyrics. He missed his cue several times, repeated some lines and omitted others. Awesome simply to have been there, but I'm comfortable with not being present at the forthcomng shows.
And to have 'Glimmer' so obviously on master tape or something without even being present on stage… hmmm?

I've written the usual review in a format that people are beginning to appreciate which is quite touching.
Maybe Craig has a point and I should offer something to someone 'professionally'.
I flatter myself. Tsk!

Perhaps for me the most interestng part of the event was simply being in the heart of London. On a Saturday night. I' not entirely unfamiliar with it (for instance, I walked from Waterloo to the ICA on the Mall from memory) but theses days Trafalgar Square at midnight surrounded by people of considerable youngness is well outside my normal sphere of experience. I felt like a ghost.
Appropriate maybe, given the circumstances

I'm on my way
To the ICA
It starts to rain
As I board my train

People meet
People eat
People pass on the street
Bridges and stairs
Plazas and squares
Scaffolding and arches
Office blocks and churches
This City
That Wheel
A village of steel

I've been listening to The Pleasures of Electricity recently... ;-)

Aftershow chat etc really encouraging and enjoyable, so I stayed on for the later train and didn't get here until quarter to two,and after posting the review got to bed at three.

Made getting up for my dad bit quite hard on Sunday morning, but the fatigue doesn't kick in with me until I switch off, so I was actually breezy and enthusiastic when I got to Npton dead on 10.30. I have learned with MrsEx that it doesn't do to be even a gnat's chaff late for appointments with the girls. I'm worried enough that Biscuit's departure to uni might set her off again without contributing to that myself.
But all seemed well enough,a nd I was pleasantly surprised to see that all was packed and waiting for me! HOW MUCH STUFF!!!
Including the double bed AND mattress, we absolutely stuffed the MPV to bursting, but just about managed to get it all in.

Back here more or less dead on 2pm and then began the arduous task of unloading all the stuff into her room. Luckily, its only on the third floor...
Standard HOR fare and she was a little disappointed with it, but in my experience that's as good as it gets. Nervous, emotional, tired - it was a difficult afternoon. We got on really well, both nervous and excited.
Shamefully too, I felt like a kid in a sweetshop being around students again. So many great memories. I thin though that when I was 18 and having my time, the girls wore more clothes??
Hey ho...

I am determined not to worry and fuss over her, but communication between me and Him have been rather busy the last couple of days! She seems fine, and hasn't been in touch yet since I left her, which can only be a good thing.
Seemed odd that there was not much of a goodbye to or from her mum. Kink though will be finding things hard. She has given up a lot to see her little sister safely to this point.
I'll ring tomorrow night for a good chat.

So because of all this malarking about, and the half hour I lost when the tears kicked in once I'd left her, I didn't get home until four.
Starving. Kind of forgot to eat after lunch on Saturday.
Again, student mode kicked in It never really leaves you.
I am so pleased that Biscuit is getting this life-changing experience.

We've also bought the office van in the meantime, and spoken to Tina about her appointment with us.
Eve managed to get lunch with D today and talked about lots of important stuff.

I now have a programme to write for Saturday's concert in the church and a whole list of people to contact in order that thngs come together for the twins baptism on Sunday. We estimate about 100 people. That's a LOT of potatoes.

I wonder how many fish there are in all the seas?