Quench Issue 4 - 1 Nov 2003

Lex’s Law

See the light with The Darkness in Interviews

Fashion celebrate punk rock chic

Revisit your 80s childhood with Features

Food are inspired by rugby

Travel discover the beauty of eastern Europe

Books have fun with their bit of rough

Music get thrilled by The Thrills

DC Gates: a

Executive editor Tristan Thomas Quench editor Alex Macpherson

Arts Lizzie Brown,Rachel Pegum Blind Date Kerry-Lynne Doyle Books Maria Thomas Columnists Riath Al-Samarrai,DCGates Debate Jessica Webb Digital Gareth Lloyd,Simeon Rosser-Trokas Fashion Caroline Ellis,Bex Singleton

espite the Mirror's blanket coverage of the Diana letters - ten pages on the day it broke the story,with Tony Blair's heart scare relegated to page 11 - the notion that the former Princess of Wales' death was anything other than an accident remains farfetched. As much as the idea of a sinister Establishment plot appeals to our inner conspiracy theorist,the evidence to back it up is severely lacking.

Yet if the issues once again under scrutiny do serve to undermine the position of the royal family,then - sleazy creepy thing as he is - Paul Burrell may yet have done the nation a favour. Though the era of widespread overt deference to our very own latter-day Addams family cast of freaks is long gone,it's undeniable that no parliamentary attempt to bring the monarchy down could succeed.

Quite simply,it no longer inspires significant amounts of either passion or ire,but instead either benign apathy or a vague feeling that life in a republic wouldn't be all that different anyway,so why bother fighting for it? These views fail to take into account the debilitating social effect perpetuated by the royal family: as long as it exists,regardless of its legal powers,it remains a figurehead for a culture in which everyone must know their place. And,of course, they do,by refusing to confront the necessary and inevitable destruction of the institution.

Features Victoria Corbett,Rhys James Film Mat Croft Food Jane Eyre,Mari Ropstad Gay Ian Loynd Going Out Katy Davies,Jenny Duxbury,Lisa Walkley

Interviews Rob Plastow Music Jamie Fullerton,Anthony Lloyd One Trick Pony James Anthony,Janine Jones Photography Gemma Griffiths,Anastasia Nylund Travel Tim Clark,Laura Tovey

Contributors Sarah Ahmad,Vicky Allen,Laura Barette,Josie Beckett,Chris Brown,Greg Cochrane,Andrew Davidson,Ruth Dickinson,Jason Draper,Craig Driver,Andrew Ferguson, David Ford,Dave Gibson,Alexandra Giorgetti,Debbie Green,Chris Griffin,Beth Kenure,Emma Langley,Louise Lappin,Gemma Lewis,Perri Lewis,Kim Lyon,Sam Mills,Ellie Mitten,Andy Parsons,Hannah Perry,Cassidy Phillips,Matthew Ramsden,Beth Reeves,Richard Samuels, Harry Shiel,Don Sinclair-Smith,Nathalie Southall,Samuel Strang,Jon Sykes,Rob Telford, Gwenllian Thomas,Jeremy Townsend,Matthew Viney,John Williams,Nathalie Wire,Daniel Worth,William Young Illustrators and photographers Tim Alban,Catharine Collingridge, Simon Shoulders Proof readers Elaine Morgan,Alys Southwood,Robert Sharples

With rumours swirling around that Burrell is in possession of what Diana called her 'crown jewels' - a recording detailing an incident so explosive that it could allegedly bring down the monarchy - it can only be hoped that the current events will trigger a realisation among the British public of exactly how bad the Windsors are for us.

Alex Macpherson

AAmber Duval Amber Duval

Coming soon to a beauty salon near you:forget the Brazilian,this is ‘Welsh Wax’...

s the four of us savoured our Sunday calcios,the coffee conversation touched on body hairthe male variety. We seemed to have enjoyed an impressive variety of different breeds; waxed,shaved,plucked and regular. Although hairy women are generally sub-sectioned to weirdos’ wank sites and ‘specialist’ mags,raising the issue of male hairiness is (literally) still like entering the unknown: full of danger and small lice.

We wondered,“Do men feel the same pressure to be eternally hairless?”

‘The Waxer’ seemed proud of his attention to unwanted chest hair, although I suspect his fellow scrum members would have had something to say if aware of the secret behind his silky smooth pecs.

Alternatively,‘The Shaver’ made no attempt to explain his suspiciously stubbly back. However,his preference for nocturnal nudity hinted at his hair removal obsession.

As the range of male beauty prod-

ucts grows scarily larger,women are being forced to accept a new breed. Although our preconceptions of hairy men are invariably rotund,short,middle-aged,medallion-branding losers, we were left choking on our sausages when faced with the unthinkable alternative. Would we rather a ‘real’ man, who mocks those “fags who depilate”,or evolve with the modern breed and share our Immac spatula? Suddenly,Mr Primate took on a new appeal.

Ideally,of course,all men would be tall,dark,handsome and (reasonably) hairless – a light sprinkling on the forearm and upper chest as well as that dark trail to the (fore mentioned) jungle. On choosing to come to Cardiff,of course,I had forgotten my mother’s immortal words.

“Welsh men are lovely,but short, fat and hairy… think Tom Jones. That’s why your father is an Englishman.” Yet having viewed Wales’ finest,I have to say I’d rather a Tom to a fag any day.

The collection of random farce known as One Trick Pony (OTP) is maintained by: James Anthony and Janine Jones

The bizarre compendium known as One Trick Pony continues to rattle along in the manner of a stock car racer with Tourette’s syndrome. There has been a complaint about lack of feline-related material in this section. So in lieu of a photo of Amber playing with her wet pussy (outside in the rain),this week we bring you:

Ten Ways to Irritate Your Cat:

1. Follow it around everywhere,smiling constantly.

2. Throw a blanket over it (or pull a sock over its head)

3. Constantly force it to look at pictures of bearded men.

4. Flip it over,stick your face in its belly,and blow a raspberry.

5. Style its hair. Use lots of gel.

6. Smell like another cat.

7. Flip its ears inside out.

8. Buy a laser pointer.

9. Take it for ‘walkies’,on a lead.

10. When it yawns,stick your finger in its mouth. Cats love this.

DISCLAIMER: DISCLAIMER:

OTP will accept no responsibility for injury to you or Tiddles,and we will not replace kitty in the event that he gets vexed and finds another owner. That nice old lady from next door has had her eye on him for ages.

PS: PS: I’m a dog person,so any whining about unnecessary cruelty will be falling on deaf ears,mmmkay?

One Trick Pony

Stealing the Oscars ceremony,stopping K-Mart selling handgun bullets,or writing consistently funny and germane books... The list is endless; Moore deserves the position of legend permanently if he succeeds in affecting the next US elections,a feat that many commentators in America are predicting. If he wakes the Yanks up to the tyranny of President Banana and his cronies,maybe they’ll finally depose the big ape. Britain is crying out for a Michael Moore of our own – it seems none of us have the testicular fortitude to stand up to President Blair...

C u u i i C C u u

Tosser

The fat-cat corporation behind Monopoly is planning to sue David Chang over his hilarious spoof, Ghettopoly, in which you can buy stolen properties,pimp hoes, and set up crack houses. One classic ‘Ghetto Stash’ card states: "You got yo’whole neighbourhood addicted to crack! Collect $50 from each playa". Genius! Hasbro don’t think so – they "will not tolerate Mr Chang’s irreparable injury to our business and goodwill". Hasbro has sold over 500 million copies of Monopoly worldwide,and this spoof will,if anything, raise the profile of the game. The only winner in this situation will be Mr Moneybags – the capitalist pig.

Here we find a fine example of the species cui cui graffitius excellis,more commonly known as Cui Cui. This shy,elusive animal’s natural habitat is the common billboard or wall,deep in Cathays. However, with natural predators such as bastardis policeus waiting to catch the diminutive creature,it has found refuge inside the Bute building - on a tutor’s notice board! You can do your part to help Cui Cui numbers flourish,by sending us photographic evidence of sightings. Remember,birdwatchers are not just weirdos in Barbour coats... Bill Oddie had the right idea.

This time,permanentblack scars come courtesy of Jules (second year,journalism). These Japanese calligraphy or ‘kanji’ tattoos were imprinted on his flesh by Simon @ Oriental Arts. They read (from top down): "Heaven, God, human, animal, demon, Hell, love, faith, devotion” . So,if anyone can read Japanese and they actually say "salmon sushi special" or "half price dumplings",please let him know.

Apparently,cats hate bearded men. Having never introduced my cat to Darwin,Marx,or Santa,I can neither confirm nor deny this. Mittens here looks pretty pissed off,but you can’t see where the other hand is going. Perhaps it’s a jealousy thing – maybe Mittens feels threatened

by the bushy reprobate before him. Beards have many uses: confusing would-be attackers,disguising ugliness,a mark of reputation. Mostly they are useful for frightening cats. In the true spirit of Halloween,use this handy cut-out of a beardy-weirdy to scare your pet. O

Ov Ov eerr h h ee a a rd rd

“They never used to do it in my “They never used to do it in my time. I blame the par time. I blame the par ents.” ents.”

Genuine quote fr Genuine quote fr om a pensioner om a pensioner, who wished to , who wished to r r emain nameless, r emain nameless, r egar egar ding the moder ding the moder n day shenani n day shenani -gans of trick-or gans of trick-or -tr -tr eating scallywags eating scallywags

“Ther “Ther e’ e’ s nothing funny about s nothing funny about Halloween. This sar Halloween. This sar castic festival r castic festival r eflects, eflects, rather rather, an infer , an infer nal demand for r nal demand for r evenge by evenge by childr childr en on the adult world.” en on the adult world.”

Jean Baudrillar Jean Baudrillar d, d, notorious Fr notorious Fr ench sociologist and author of ench sociologist and author of Simulacra Simulacra & Simulations & Simulations

One T One Trick Pony rick

Pony’ ’ s guide to sex s guide to sex thr thr ough the ages, Pt II ough the ages, Pt II

OTP’ OTP’ s sexual time travellers Ellie Mitten and Beth s sexual time travellers Ellie Mitten and Beth Reeves continue to bring you sexploits thr Reeves continue to bring you sexploits thr ough the ages. ough the ages. This time ar This time ar ound, it’ ound, it’ s the 16th and 17th centuries. s the 16th and 17th centuries.

Alcohol

We all know and love it - as,it seems,did our forefathers. A poll from the 1670s would have us believe that there were 89 people per alehouse and the period is also littered with clashes over people heading to the house of grog instead of the house of God on Sunday mornings. There are countless reports of lewd and disorderly behaviour,the most bizarre of which involves one poor bugger who ended up before court. He was accused of pulling out his unconscious mate’s ‘privy member’ and placing it on a child’s foot. Ah, reminds me of some good times.

Our ancestors had a few strange ideas; some home remedies you might like to try include brandy for impotence,and powdered boar testicles with wine to increase fertility. But there is one thing they did which your bartender may not approve of… in 17th century Britain,it was customary to simply wee under the tavern table when nature called. The ultimate in convenience.

Bestiality

Sadly,the evidence for bestiality has always been scarce,as it is mostly a private rural liaison. Until the 11th century,having sex with animals was not a heinous crime but by the 13th it was among the worst. This,however, does not seem to have deterred people – bestiality continued to be popular with herders who spent a lot of time alone with their animals. Jean-Marc Tournier,18,was brought before court in 1687 accused of having sex with his cows. The main witness for the prosecution is reported to have shouted out as he passed the crime scene,"Hey,bugger,I can see you’re doing something foul with that cow!"

Jean-Marc was acquitted on insufficient evidence - others were not so lucky. One Jean-François was seen with "his member out of his flies,erect… [he] took a stool and approached one of the cows (named Jaillette) and having moved aside the tail of said cow he put his member in its arse". Unfortunately,Jean was drowned. Stephen Fry would be horrified – if you haven’t read The Hippopotamus then you really,really should.

Public sex

Included for its sheer bizarreness. In many respects our ancestors were so very similar - apart from one fundamental way. They didn’t know the meaning of the phrase "get a room". Living arrangements for the majority of the population were condensed to the point that whole families shared one room. It is a fact you have been told a million times but think about the implications!

People spent the whole of their childhoods not only in the same room,but sometimes the same bed as their parents and siblings. There was no way you could play your music loudly and pretend that wasn’t happening.

There are many accounts of boys being introduced to masturbation not only by friends,schoolmates and teachers but even fathers and grandfathers. We shudder to think. Please feel free to approach your flatmates in the name of research,and let us know how it goes.

Interesting facts

The clitoris was officially discovered in the 16th century – that means it took men 1,500 years after the death of Jesus to stumble across the sweet spot. And you thought you had it bad.

If you’re lacking in the trouser department,take a tip from Tartare. After being caught having an anal orgy,a young boy,Chappuis,explained that he had "allowed himself to be penetrated" by him because Tartare had the smallest willy out of the group. Tartare’s defence was that he found women too big,while men gave him that extra ‘squeeze’ he liked.

Finally,there was the fantastic account of Mr Atmear,Mr and Mrs Morris, plus a few maids,who got some birch rods and gave each other a good spanking. "Welcome to the Castle Anthrax!"

Youasked for it. Every two weeks,I am personally going to trawl the white flabby underbelly of the internet to find the results of some sick genetic experiment combining Ann Widdecombe,an aging rottweiler,and dead funnyman Chris Farley three days after they found him.

Theonly way to stop this onslaught of repugnancy is to step up and do your duty as Sexiest Student. Otherwise this will only get worse,and no one wants to be vomiting on their shoes every fortnight.

80s Revival Debate

The 1980s:the decade that fashion forgot,or a much welcomed comeback? Decide for yourself while our contenders battle it out...

Jessica Webb FOR Gemma Lewis AGAINST

Come on,we’re all guilty of doing it - ‘accidentally’ flicking on VH1’s ‘80s Weekend’ and being unable to control the urge to catch the last few minutes of Wham! OK,maybe watching George Michael prancing about in fluorescent leggings and a perm isn’t everybody’s idea of entertainment,but at least the tunes are catchy! (Does anyone actually know who the other trumpet-playing member of Wham is?) (The even camper Andrew Ridgeley - 80s Ed.)

Don’t let this disturbing image put you off the era entirely. Think of all that magnificent music produced by U2,Madonna and Queen (imagine Freddie Mercury in a lycra jumpsuit and a small animal on his upper lip - you love it). But enough about the music. Recently,even the most secluded hermit could not have missed the influence of 80s fashion upon our high street stores. Top Shop,Miss Selfridge and Warehouse have all taken to stocking up on plastic jewellery,luminous stilettos and Tshirt dresses. Boys,don’t even attempt to deny that ‘Mullet Man’,formally known as ‘Golden Balls’ Beckham, looked good in that slightly risqué haircut!

The fact is that although everyone loves to slate celebrity fashion victims,who can honestly say that they have not been even remotely influenced by them? (With the obvious exception of La Aguilera – will the Queen of Trash,Ms Dirrty herself,ever be classy?). I’d like to draw your attention back not so long ago to Doc Marten bootsyes,the craze that hit the retail industry with the same brutal force as the bubonic plague. This 90s disaster was swiftly followed by waistcoats,checked shirts and Whigfield’s Saturday Night. Oh,the shame of it!

In other words,it’s a complete waste of valuable drinking/sleeping time in trying to resist the present 80s revival. Why not go with the flow and take advantage of being young? You all know that in less than five years time you’re going to be cringing at your previous choice of clothing regardless. Although the 80s has never been a decade to be taken seriously,there’s plenty of positive features:the clothes are bright,the music is addictive and,let’s not forget,it brought us both Kylie and Madge.

What do you think of when I mention the 80s? Spandau Ballet,a pre-macrobiotic Madonna or lycra? To me,the 1980s are the epitome of bad taste. This bad taste has become the flavour of the month within high street haute couture,though,as the UK’s entire female population embraces it with sweatband-clad arms. (I wonder,do people really get that sweaty walking to the Humanities Building? Does it warrant a sweatband on each wrist and elbow?) It’s everywhere and quite frankly,I’m scared.

Just because some half-wit at Topshop had the brainwave to "resurrect the decade that taste forgot",we’ve all rushed out to grab as many ghastly ‘fashion’ items as our student loans will accommodate. Legwarmers… will someone please explain how they attained any credibility? Fame introduced them as the must-have item if you wanted to dance among fire hydrants and yellow taxis,but they looked crap then and even crappier now.

I’ve discovered that to tolerate 80s fashion,all the dos and don’ts regarding colour (eg,wearing pink and orange together) and dressing for your size (squeezing into a micro skirt which reveals a less than perfect Brazilian) have to be abandoned. Tshirt dresses should only be found in the maternity section of H&M,not in any reputable fashion houses. If I told you to "go and put on that tent over there - you know,the luminous orange one which can hold 15 grown men",your inevitable reaction would rightly be "Piss off you weirdo!" Yet you see it every day.

My pet hate,though,is the beautiful leggings/miniskirt and winkle-picker combo. For those who aren’t down with the kids, winkle-picker shoes are the spawn of Satan and the most ridiculous looking things on the planet. Santa’s elves,who normally favour footwear of the curled-up toe variety,would laugh their asses off! Leggings are what girls were forced to wear with My Little Pony jumpers. Pre-cellulite,they are fine but personally,I think they should burn in hell (along with neon plastic jewellery and side ponytails)! Take heed ladies,the morons at Topshop are laughing all the way to the bank while we strut around looking like Bananarama rejects. From the eternal fountain of wisdom which is Frankie Goes To Hollywood: "Relax, don’t do it." Leave the 1980s where they are - rotting in fashion limbo.

PERMISSION TO SPEAK

On a piss-miserable weekend in Cardiff,a bunch of hairy ageing dinosaurs urinate out a steaming torrent of suicidally shite retro-rock all over a pitifully small audience in the Students’ Union. Then Ocean Colour Scene fuck off and Britain’s hottest live act The Darkness roll into town and plunge the whole city into a hectic mash of delirious rabidity,as is the case with every town the wildest tour in Britain visits.

"It’s been quite dangerous actually," frontman Justin Hawkins - half poodle, half sex alien - reveals. "We had people fainting and ramming the doors trying to get in," his guitar toting brother Dan adds,before Justin further reveals the extent of this nuttiness.

"Some of the first aid people I was talking to… they had five people trying to get in through the back door,they were offered £75 each in bribes to try to get them in. I don’t know whether they took it or not. I would have."

But the band have got plenty more than that to worry about. There are accusations of regressiveness and of being a pastiche band,not to mention

handling the pressure of being the most in-demand act in the UK. "Well, the important thing to remember is that when you’re climbing a mountain you don’t stop halfway up and then start sucking your own cock," bassist Frankie Poullain exclaims from

“When climbing a mountain you don’t stop half way and start sucking your own cock” Frankie Poullain

between the pipes of his ludicrous handlebar moustache. "We’re a fresh approach to rock," reckons Justin. "It’s like rock with the benefit of hindsight in a way… we’re like macho rock without the misogyny."

It’s still regressive though,isn’t it? Not according to Just. "People

In an exclusive

DARKNESS sat down for a chinwag with Jamie Fullerton

who think we’re regressive just haven’t listened to our music properly,‘cos we do things very differently to how bands used to in the olden days. We’re developing an often overlooked genre within the rock spectrum itself… we’re making it into something new. You don’t get to number one by being a pastiche band."

"We’re much less regressive than The Strokes," offers drumming furball Ed Grahame to the agreement of his singer; "With garage rock and all that it’s very easy to just pick up a guitar,y’know,do your hair in a certain way and just wobble about a bit. That’s the sort of thing you can easily just ‘do’. You can easily jump on a bandwagon,but to do the kind of rock we do you have to be good at your instruments. People aren’t going to be able to just pick up a guitar and do what we do. ‘Cos they ain’t gonna be good enough."

From

Surrey to stardom, Rob Plastow meets a new talent... Interview

Tree’s company

As I stumbled into the Fleece pub in Bristol a little late,I was greeted by the curtailment of a song that I had not heard before but would last in my memory for the following days. As I entered there was an ephemeral vibrato in her voice and the audience stood gazing in silence. I soon found out that this was Carrie Tree,filling Damien Rice’s support spot,and indeed the small surroundings with just an acoustic guitar and her voice. The next evening I went to see her before her soundcheck.

I was shocked to discover that Carrie was new to touring,unsigned and 22 travelling the country supporting Damien Rice with the confidence

and modesty of a much older artist. Her maturity and experience come from her travelling,as does her music. While visiting the continents, Carrie has written songs which will soon compose an album,an audio photograph perhaps,of her journey.

I was further inspired by Carrie further more when she told me of how she went from travelling to being on tour: “I met Damien at Glastonbury. I was playing my djembes and singing when he came up to me and asked if I wanted to go on tour with him. I didn’t know who he was until we talked.”

Neither of them was playing at the festival,merely watching like everybody else,and now they are on a sell

“If something’s supposed to happen, then it will”

out tour of the UK. She did not seem as stunned by this as I did; instead, she told me that “if something’s supposed to happen,then it will.” And I hope it does.

She was originally a pianist,giving up to play guitar because it is more portable for busking. “I know a lot of people I used to busk with,whom I would like to involve on an album.” An album that should become a good listen,keeping to acoustic roots with influences from Joni Mitchell,Nick Drake and Tracy Chapman to name but a few. Each date on the tour is a new experience from which she can learn her trade,waking up in a different city,meeting new people,adding more songs to her already impressive catologue.

This is also the case with Damien Rice. It would appear that self-progression and promotion,recording your own album and taking your time is coming back to reap success. It’s the antithesis of corporate popular music’s record label values,and it would appear that talent will shine

“I met Damien Rice at Glastonbury.He came up to me and asked if I wanted to go on tour with him.”

through. Carrie typifies this as she stands on stage playing the guitar she got for Christmas from her Dad, singing songs crafted in different cultures and climates to a stunned audience that will surely grow much larger.

Photos: Laurie Wilson

Fashion rocks!

Fashion and rock are an item again - andit’s pure sex, says Perri Lewis. Illustrations by Catharine Collingridge

Rock up your life/wardrobe/look (note which one fits better?) student style,which roughly translates to ‘on the cheap’! Just follow these simple tips for instant rock chick grunge glamour…

Top half Just chuck on any old old T-shirt - as long as it sports the name of some desirable band like The Strokes. For cheap ones hang around the back of the Union after gigs,as skinny ones are usually a fiver.

Bottom half Jeans and only jeans will do. Just cut a few holes in the knees of last season’s pair to create an instant ‘I’ve had these for years’ look.

Belt Thick black and studded (an essential if you chose to wear baggy jeans). Topman are doing imitation rock belts for under £10 this season.

Underwear Rock girls don’t do thongs. It’s all about French knickers (so no worry about VPL) because they actually look quite cute hanging out of the back of your jeans (and a lot more stylish than unsightly gstrings). Dorothy Perkins do two for £10.

Shoes There is no need to go and buy trainers to complete this look, just mess up an old pair of Converses,Dunlops or Goals (see if you can borrow your parents’ old ones for a true retro addition). Alternatively,second hand shops often stock good trainers complete with authentic wear and tear.

“Wherever you go you can see that everybody wants to be part of the rock scene” - Athlete

Style Karenicon: O

Karen O,singer with New York rock trio the Yeah Yeah Yeahs,has puzzled fashion critics and fans alike. With her screeching vocals and trashy lollipop chic,her unorthodox image is somewhat conversational.

First impressions of Ms O are usually mixed. Her mixture of figure hugging leggings,ra ra skirts and clashing colours makes you question how she does it without looking like a throw back from an 80s gymnasium?

Though the music industry

embraced her vocal talents long ago it was a while before the fashion industry acclaimed her aptitude for customised vogue. But the YYYs’ time is now,and this has helped her become one of today’s first ladies of rock. The high street has finally recognised that garish greens,putrid pinks and cheap plastic jewellery can be worn together in a sort of stripy,baggy t-shirted way and still look pretty darn good.

This radical acceptance of her clothing is not solely down to either Karen O herself or Christian Joy,her friend, personal stylist and indie designer,but more due to the explosion of rock into the commercial sector of the music industry. The kitsch look of 80s glamour is rapidly being hailed as divine as The Darkness dive into our lives in their Lycra leopardskin leotards. Seeing Topman launching lines of

Justin-styled

crotch-hugging suits is unlikely,but it is fair to say that Karen O and other punk rock divas have made a huge impact on the high street this season and the clothes we are all desperate to blow our loans on.

LisaWalkley shows you how to make your hair really rock Fashion Rock credentials

For

this,think rock chicks like Chrissie Hynde and Marianne Faithful. The cut is A-line with a deep horseshoe fringe,while longer sections act as a veil. With fractured texture,this look screams sassy,chic and goddess of rock!

Obviously to really look rock, you need to have a radical cut. But here at Quench Fashion we’ve made it simple for you with some easy tips for achieving the desired look without cutting off any of your precious locks.

With the assistance of Leanne and Shane at Toni & Guy Essensuals,St John’s Square (opposite RSVP),we have come up with some simple hairdos which epitomise rock:

The Quiff: a simple and easy way to rock up long or short hair.

1. Take a triangle section of hair from the recession lines as far back as the middle of your head. Either...

2. Comb back and push forward to make it stick up. Or...

3. Twist it over itself

4. Secure with plenty of hairspray and grips

5. Leave the rest of the hair either dead straight or scrunch up for a messy texture.

The Mohican: no,not David Beckham! Instead,this is a combination of the quiff with either a ponytail or plaits.

Do a quiff (above) then one of the options below :

1. Take the two side sections of your hair and pull tight up to meet the back of the quiff,then secure with hairspray and grips.

2. Plait (multiple if adventurous!) the two side sections of your hair,then pull up to meet quiff and secure with hairspray and grips.

3. With the rest of your hair,pull to a sleek ponytail at crown or just below.

Rock fashion tip of the fortnight: Keep your face plain and smother your eyes in black eyeliner and eye shadow with lashings of mascara. For seductive rock goddess lips make your lipstick as red as you can - the redder the better.

Student Street Style

By Bex Singleton and Caroline Ellis Fashion Editors

Are Cardiff students in keeping with the fashion rock scene? Quench’s fashion team went along to Factory,the Union’s most popular alternative rock night,to find if this was the case. Amongst the crowds, we found three of Cardiff’s hottest rock property.

Top: Rhys Hicks, fresher,history and modern politics

Middle: Sarah Hamilton,third year, English language

Bottom: Charlie Thame,fresher,politics and philosophy

Get your mitts on this

These earrings are the ultimate item to get the 80s glam rock look. From Dorothy Perkins for £4, the place to go for all your rock chic accessories.

13

Photos:Charlotte

Howells

Made in the Eighties

Are you a product of the 80s? Then let Alexandra Giorgetti take you on a quick trip down memory lane...

Have you noticed that lately there have been a multitude of lycra-clad young ladiesand indeed gentlemen - who seem to have mercilessly stepped straight out of Flashdance and into the third millennium? You cannot have failed to notice that 80s fashion is back with a leg-warming,hooped-earring,bat-wing top vengeance that shows no signs of relinquishing its grip on society for a good while to come.

The 80s is a decade we all love to

hate,and whatever your views it’s probably best to wallow in nostalgia rather than fight the return of the fingerless glove.

So pour yourself a pleasant glass of Asti Spumanti,don your finest shell suit,whack on Bros’ greatest hits,and join me for a celebration of a time gone by, when Kylie and Jason ruled supreme and the height of computer technology was the Atari. And remember: they’re Opal Fruits,not Starbursts.

pink thing on our screens was his hand).

However,let’s be fair and give the era the respect it deserves. The theme tunes of 80s kiddies’ TV have yet to be bettered by subsequent creations. Awards here have to go to The A Team, Inspector Gadget, Dogtanian And The Muskahounds, Bertha, Pigeon Street, The Muppet Babies and,last but by no means least, Simon And The Witch

The merits of Hart Beat cannot go untouched upon and I doubt there were many budding art enthusiasts who didn’t dream of having their latest cackhanded masterpiece appear in ‘The Gallery’.

What better place to start our trip down memory lane than children’s television? Then,it seemed to boast an array of mindless entertainment,and whether you were a BBC1 fanatic (with Andi ‘Closet’ - sorry,‘Broom-cupboard’Peters,Ed the Duck et al) or an ITV buff (Knightmare, Teabag) there was plenty to keep you occupied after school.

Certain programmes admittedly left a lot to be desired. It was quite hard for us,even as children,to suspend our disbelief during Finger Mouse due to the visible hand of the puppeteer (at least I always hoped the omnipresent,waggling

Let’s face it,there were never any decent pictures for poor Tony to comment on,and if it didn’t seem to look like a gargantuan poo with some limbs on it was more than likely actually drawn by a

pushy parent with far too much time on their hands.

And whilst on the subject of art let’s all spare a thought for those masked green reptiles who named themselves after the masters of Renaissance period art,and passed themselves off

decide to work off their debt by pint pulling,but one American girl reportedly took a more novel approach and actually designed these to help pay off her tuition fees.

the jewellery-wearing,chainsmoking,Jimmy Saville to ‘fix it for you’. The King of Bling Saville was someone we once revered as a god-like character, but now in our more mature years we’re just shocked to realise that there were parents who allowed their children in the same studio as Jimmy and his cigar. Now then,now then.

As 80s children we were easily pleased. Come Christmas,Mr S Claus was inundated by requests for now seemingly simple gifts,like the Rubix cube,Transformers, Huggy Bears and My Little Ponies. Also ideal for the young miss were the slightly deranged Cabbage Patch Kids,who seemed to have eaten all the pies.

The majority of students

As for the perfect stocking filler who could forget the best 80s invention of them all,Matey Bubble Bath,which ingeniously turned the water into the colour of nuclear waste. For a big pressie,though,you might ask nicely for a BMX bike or the evercoveted Soda Stream.

Compilation tapes were the music medium of choice,and those of us made in the 80s will recall the Now! That’s What I Call Music collection when they were in but fledgling single num-

It wasn’t really what we’d call music now though,is it? Yet it certainly offered a wide range of tunes: Now… Seven,for example,contains a crazy mix of 80s classics,from the camper-than-camp

Anneka Rice’s huge arse on Treasure Hunt caused us much mirth - as also did contestants on Blockbusters when they asked Bob for a ‘p’.

So next time you ascend the escalators in Top Shop,don’t wince at the dayglo colours. Instead,you could hark back to your childhood years,when toys weren’t so commercialised,cartoons like Dungeons And Dragons,unlike many of today’s bland offerings,dabbled with plots,and you never heard a Nokia ring tone in the cinema. Yet,I suppose it must be conceded by even the most ardent Going Live fan (Going Live? – A mere stripling next to The Saturday Morning Show,with Readie and old Cheggers still slim and suitably dressed –Features Ed) that certain elements of the 80s are never,ever welcome to darken our doors again. Let us consign to history the pyromaniac’s wet dream that was the multi-coloured shell suit and scary,scary,oh so scary mullets.

(Above) Aaah, many happy mornings in the school TVroom; (Left) The Demonic Pixie Witch, in her pre-deformed monkey days (Below) ‘Now then, now then, little chiildren’ - a scary scary man

Foreignaffairs

Ruth Dickinson recalls her study year in Rennes

Erasmus students – you’ve probably heard of them,in fact you’ve probably got them in your tutorial groups (blank expressions,foreign accents, funny looking writing paper),but who are they? I’d never given it much thought until last year… when I became one. Where you go,what you do and for exactly how long depends on the course and the university. I do Law and French, and was enrolled in the Law School of Rennes University in Brittany.

Lectures in French law were three hours at a time,incomprehensible in the beginning and only slightly better by the end. I did exams at the end of the year and perhaps not wholly surprisingly I failed three out of four. So if studying law wasn’t the point of the year (sorry Dr Field) what exactly was?

It didn’t take much to find the other Erasmuses in Rennes and many,many crazy parties and nights out were had with them. Some were good,some were bad and some just plain strange (I have woken up in a bus stop,Sarah

accent and mistakes.

The answer is to just find some way to immerse yourself; to force yourself to speak the language. Sarah got a job at the homeless shelter,Dai joined a Gaelic football team and I joined a local theatre group.

This was the most terrifying and most rewarding thing I have ever done. I am sure my mother has never been prouder than when I appeared on stage dressed in hotpants,fishnets,a Wonderbra,and a sparkly vest in the end of the year show.

The bonding was the usual sort you get in drama groups – we went out together and became quite a tight group. One of them,Laurette,was my neighbour so I used to walk to rehearsals with her.

It was hard work to begin with,but we kept in there and we went from struggling with small talk,to being confidantes and drinking buddies by the end of the year.

Of course,some encounters you just cannot plan. When some French bloke

didn’t imagine it would be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Florian was a trainee air traffic controller and I went to visit him in Toulouse,where he lived in halls of residence with several hundred other air traffic controllers.

Throw in a few other trips (the obligatory Paris,plus Brussels,Strasbourg and Nice),a few hundred coffees at pavement cafés,a few strikes and protest marches through town,a national obsession with Star Academy,discussions about the war,some fantastic films and some not-so-fantastic pop and that just about sums up my year. By the end my friends had became close enough to fight with,I had mastered the bus system and I no longer panicked and thought I wouldn’t understand every time someone new spoke to me. Rennes was home.

Laurette was so taken with the idea of Erasmus that she’s come to Cardiff. Her bemusement and occasional shock about the amount of time spent in the Union,how little we talk about

The country is currently being gripped by the first ever British lawsuit against a tobacco company. Scottish lad Alf McTear began his long journey to the courtroom in 1992,but tragically he did not get to see how things would unfold: Alf died in March 1993 at the age of 48,leaving his wife to continue the battle he started.

Margaret McTear,now 58,is suing Imperial Tobacco for £500,000 in damages relating to her husband’s ill health and eventual death. Mrs McTear and her solicitors are arguing that when Alf began smoking in the 1960s there was no warning of the dangers of smoking,by the time information was available to the public he was already addicted and nurturing a 60-a-day habit; it was too late for Alf.

received $1.1m in compensation from the Brown and Williamson tobacco company for his poor health as a result of smoking.

In June 2001 Richard Boeken became a very rich man when he succeeded in his case against Phillip Morris in the US. Mr Boeken was awarded $5.5m in compensatory damages and $3bn in punitive damages; it stands as the biggest pay out ever to an individual in a case such as this. This however was not the end of the road for Mr Boeken,as an appeal in August of the same year slashed the punitive damages to $100m.

But people do not only want to sue over the issue of their health,they are also suing over the issue of false advertisement. In March of this year tobacco giant Phillip Morris was

to seek compensation have a right to it? After all,some of them may have been ignorant to health risks when they began smoking,or they may have been victims to the glamorous advertising that tobacco companies use.

But people do have freedom of choice,freedom to buy what they want, say what they want and do what they want. No one ever forced these people to smoke.

There are so many different arguments to take into account,it is quite probable that there will never be a straightforward,case closed verdict with issues such as these.

A smoking gun

Victoria Corbett ponders the rise of Britain’s own litigation culture

Imperial Tobacco’s counter argument is that Alf was always free to quit smoking if he wanted,he had 30 years to quit after research was published showing the risks of smoking,and was never forced to take up the habit in the first place. They have also stated that there is no conclusive link between Alf’s smoking and the lung cancer that eventually killed him.

This lawsuit for many is not a surprise. It has already been seen in America,where the issues thrown up such cases are constantly in debate. Lawsuits like these are more common in the US because the payouts are much bigger,meaning that lawyers are far more willing to take a risk if they can make a few billion out of the case.

What then could be the next target of this increasing blame culture? McDonald’s is already taking a hit for supposedly causing several American teenagers to become obese. Will we soon be suing contraceptive companies for their failure to provide 100% protection from pregnancy or STDs? Or could we soon be blaming the BBC for making unmissable programming which has caused us to watch excessive television and as a result left us with poor eyesight?

Since the mid-90s there have been six cases where individuals have received compensation from tobacco companies. One 70-year-old ex-smoker

ordered to pay out $10.1bn in damages for deceiving smokers about so called ‘light’ cigarettes.

Judge Nicholas Byron awarded in favour of the prosecution because he said "the term ‘lights’ not only conveys a message of reduced harm and safety,but also conveyed that the ‘light’ cigarette product was lower in tar and nicotine." In this case the money was awarded as a kind of refund for the money the smokers had spent on cigarettes.

With this type of lawsuit spreading to France and Germany,will everything we buy now require some kind of a clear health warning? If so,will it make a difference in this apparent blame culture we live in today? Do these people that have chosen

18 Food

Sport cuisine

Samoa

Although the 2003 Rugby World Cup in Australia has been under way for a couple of weeks now,there’s still almost a month left until the final at the end of November.So to get you readers into the spirit of the finals and bring a little more culture into your lives,here is a brief look at some of the more unfamiliar nations competing down under,and some of their traditional foods.By Matthew Ramsden

When not attempting to humiliate the England team,you will probably find the Samoan players tucking into traditional food such as green bananas and raw fish. Lu’au is probably the dish that Samoa is most famous for and apparently has to be tasted at least once in a lifetime. Made from the leaves of the taro plant,coconut cream and onions,the dish is ideally cooked in an umu,a kind of home-made oven,cooking the food under the embers of a fire.

Lu’au

If you cannot obtain taro leaves it possible to produce a pale imitation using spinach. Take two pounds (1kg) of chopped spinach,two finely diced large onions and a pound of coconut cream. Boil the spinach for about 25 minutes so that it is horribly overcooked,and fry the onions until they are soft and brown. Mix both of these

together in a frying pan,add the coconut cream and salt to taste. Simmer this over a low heat for about 45 minutes.

Namibia

When not getting stuffed by the Aussies,the Namibians can often be found tucking in to boerewors,a huge ‘farmer’s’ sausage and one of the regional specialities that make it difficult to attribute a particular group of foods to this western African country. A main part of the diet for the Ovambo people however,is mielie pap,a cornmeal porridge often eaten with meat such as goat,fish or beef stew.

Mielie Pap

4 cups black-eyed peas 1 teaspoon salt

Tonga

1 crushed chilli pepper or 1⁄2 tsp cayenne pepper

Soak fresh peas (use canned peas if you cannot find fresh) in cold water for about five minutes to soften. Using both hands,rub and gently squeeze the peas as they continue to soak. This process will gradually loosen the skins,which will float to the top. Skim and discard the skins,drain and rinse the peas,add salt and hot pepper and cover with clean water. Boil until tender. Serve,along with the cooking water,over oshifima or another stiff porridge.

In the pacific off the coast of Australia,Tonga is a country of 172 islands,with just 36 inhabited. Tongan food is similar to Samoan in that it is often cooked in large umus,often large enough to serve hundreds - a kind of mass barbeque. The diet consists primarily of pork,lobster,octopus,fish,chicken,yams,sweet potatoes,coconuts and other vegetables and fruit,the local tipple being coconut juice. It may sound strange, but it is in fact delicious.

If this attempt at culinary enlightenment has proved to be unsuccessful, then you can always dine the Aussie way by reclining in an armchair in front of the rugby,cracking open a tinnie and slapping another shrimp on the barbie!

Living on ten pounds a week? Beth

explains the secrets of eating well on a tight student budget.

The cheap side of life

Yes,Iknow life can be pretty easy for us students,with our long holidays,often quite slack timetables and the ability to exist outside the real world. But there comes a time in the life of many a student when he or she must face the harsh reality of a cash flow problem.

Unfortunately this can mean no shopping,no alcohol and most importantly, limited funds for food (OK,so the alcohol one is probably closer to the top of the list for most people). It’s the last week of term before Christmas,all the supplies given to you by your parents have evaporated and you overdraft is nearing extinction. What do you do?

Well,I have two magic words for you:Tesco Value. At times of trouble the blue and white could be your sav-

“Own brands are fine when you’re skint,but why subject yourself to that for any longer than you have to?”

iour. Now all those fussy eaters out there had better beware because this isn’t going to be pretty; no interesting food and definitely none of your brand names. Say goodbye to Heinz and hello to 7p tins of beans. Yes,that’s right folks,combine a few tins of those with a 19p loaf of bread and hey presto,you have a week’s worth of lunch. I know beans on toast aren’t

“I know beans on toast aren’t anyone’s idea of a hearty meal, but if you look at it in a healthconscious way, half a tin of beans is equal to one portion of fruit and veg.”

everyone’s idea of a hearty meal,but if you look at it in a health-conscious way,half a tin of beans is equal to one portion of fruit and veg. This brings me to my next point, eating cheaply but correctly. We are meant to consume five portions of fruit and vegetable per day,and I don’t know if you know this,but a pizza with a tomato base and numerous vegetable toppings will not meet your quota for the day! Unfortunately fruit and veg can be expensive,so there’ll be no treats this week. Still, just think to yourself that you’ll be home soon where you can,with the aid of a few “I’ve-been-living-on-soupfor-the-last-three-weeks” sobs,guilt trip your family into cooking you delicious culinary masterpieces to soothe your deprived stomach. This rule can also be applied while you are still here in Cardiff but is far trickier. Try convincing a flatmate that you’re feeling poorly and that you couldn’t possibly cook tonight but that you’ll cook for them tomorrow,carefully leaving out the fact that your train home leaves at 9 o’clock the next morning. At this stage I have to point out that I have been informed by a friend that we could all in fact live on ten pounds a week if is wasn’t for the evils of marketing. Said friend goes on to say how it’s not the food we are paying for but the name,that own brand cola tastes exactly the same

and I wouldn’t possibly be able to tell the difference. Well,without depressing the people out there who are already living the reality of low funds,I have to say I can tell the difference! Own brands are fine when you’re skint,but why subject yourself to that for any longer than you have to? This article would nevertheless like to sing the praises of Tesco Value orange juice - the best there is!

Pricewatch

Premier News,Food & Wine,Cryws Road

Cheapest beans: 39p Cheapest bread: 90p Total£1.29

Spar,Withchurch Road

Cheapest beans: 27p Cheapest bread: 59p Total86p

Co-op,Cryws Road

Cheapest beans: 21p

Cheapest bread: 43p

Total64p

Tesco

Cheapest beans: 12p

Cheapest bread: 24p

Total36p

Sainsbury,Queen Street

Cheapest beans: 23p

Cheapest bread: 45p

Total68p

Sick of plain beans on toast? Try these additional ingredients next time:

Marmite

Cheese

Any kind of sesoning

Egg and bacon

Mushrooms

Green peppers

Or simply swap to spaghetti on toast for a while. Did you know you can get 12 cans for £1 at Hyper Value on Woodville Road? Your love for good old beans will soon return,guaranteed!

Go east

The eastern bloc has more going for it than you’d think,as Quench discovered last summer

By Emma Langley Travel Correspondent

September; I knew we’d found our paradise. With only two weeks to spend we arrived in Split intending to

square harbour,and if you keep walking far enough you’ll find a lot of rocky inlets that make great secluded (nudist) beaches. Although Korcula town is traditionally not as popular as Hvar, I don’t know where else I’ve been able to eat in a restaurant within castle walls or drink in a cocktail bar on top of a castle turret.

What really added to the experience of both the islands was the accommodation. We did not pre-book anything

Pass the clap

Estonia is the perfect place to see the world differently,as Kim Lyon found

Icould have spent my summer volunteering on a Russian or Romanian newspaper,gaining invaluable knowledge of a culture nothing like our own. That was plan A. However this involved spending over a grand: an option incompatible with my financial status. Many working holiday organisations offer promises of life-changing times abroad,only to leech your loan and herd you out with fellow middle-class yuppies for the,er,'privilege' of building mud huts for a month or three.

Thankfully I stumbled across the UNA exchange volunteering website,whose remit of 'see the world differently' didn't smack of pseudo-altruism. If,like my friends,you're wondering whether helping run a summer camp in Estonia was a secret ambition of mine,no it wasn't. My mum's reaction - "There is off the beaten track and there is off the bloody rails" - was followed by a shared sigh.

Flights to Estonia are neither frequent nor cheap (and bless the man at Dial-a-Flight,he'd never heard of the place). Eventually,though,I found flights which gave me a day to explore the capital before the project began in Estonia's National Forest.

How humbling? A scary moment,too - it was a good ten minutes of my best charades before a key appeared.

Estonia doesn't only triumph at the Eurovision song contest. It boasts a capital that makes even Prague look relatively bland. Tallinn is a charismatic city: an old world centre hosting turrets, cobbled streets,the whole medieval

“Lonely Planet lulled me into a false sense of security,saying that English was widely spoken.It lied”

works. The outskirts,then,with giant Harvey Nicks-style department stores come as a surprise. The legacy of Russian rule is,at least superficially, negligible; the city was far less eastern bloc than I expected.

Estonian hadn't proved bad enough,my abilities with the Cyrillic alphabet were non-existent.

At first it was hard: having to think of,then lead activities to entertain young people all day,every day,was not easy. How on earth do you entertain kids whom you have no knowledge of, and who do not speak the same language? But,given a little ingenuity,and quite possibly my similar mental age, we got on just fine. The Duke of Edinburgh’s Award and Sports Leadership all came into play. To their credit,the children were compliant and a pleasure to be around; tolerant,it seemed,of some of my poorer efforts, which included trying to teach them that benchmark drama game,'pass the clap' (no reference to STIs intended). And now for the clichés. The project was one of the best things I've ever done. 'Best' is a flabby word,though, and does not capture how thoroughly insightful,interesting,and enjoyable my experience was. A stint on a foreign newspaper would have done wonders for my CV,but the humanity of everyone in Estonia gave me a satisfaction I'd be lucky,and honoured,to find in a career.

Travel 22

What went wrong

Last issue we told you how to avoid being caught on the hop when abroad,but we like to lead by example - so this issue we discover how nothing ever goes to plan and that you will probably be your own worst enemy

By Tim Clark,

Travel Editor

We were walking up the hill on the way back from the beachit was Easter Sunday and we thought we’d spend it in the water. After all,we were in Australia.

my account for a replacement passport. Going to the consulate was my only route home before I was banned from Australia for three years with an already expired visa.

I arrived in Canberra with two dollars and not a clue what to do. While

last thing. I turned to the door and passed three posters. One was about a woman who’d recently been murdered,another was focused on about fifty missing persons ads,and the third was of a man huddled down looking very withdrawn. The caption above said,“Don’t worry if you feel like Simon: thirty thousand men suffer sexual abuse each year in the Canberra area alone.”

Damn and shit! I suddenly realised that Canberra had the biggest gay rape attack rate in the whole of Oz,and I was about to go roughing it on the middle of the woods shitting my pants in my tent, hoping beyond hell that no one was gonna treat me to a game of “how’s yer father”!

Little or no sleep seemed to be the

way to finish a round the world trip.

For two months I was marooned with no money,taking dodgy jobs to eat,while I explained to parents how much I really needed some cash to get home.

Eight weeks passed,and Ifound myself in Sydney. Checking my balance,I realised to my horror that I was $300 down: my esteemed brother had got hold of my PIN number and tiptoed away with the last of the money that my parents had put into

embassy,but found me a cup of tea and gave me an apple,the only food I had since Byron Bay the day before. She also said that she’d “had words with the boys” and that “if they do see you roughing it for the night then they’ll turn a blind eye."

I wanted to marry her. The embassy got hold of my parents,who proceeded to unleash a volley of swearwords at my brother,whose only reply was that he “was gonna put it back”; typical! At this point,though,I thought I was OK. There was just one

floated down the coast for three weeks before being discovered and handed in. Forget Kylie - now I wanted to marry the clerk.

I got my passport returned along with a refund - enough to get to Thailand on my way home. I’ve never left a country quicker in my life.

The wacky world of hitchhiking

date rape series.

It turned out that Becky,Anna,and Anna’s ex-husband had been decorating when they heard a scream from the street. Outside,they found a woman lying in the road covered with blood and badly beaten. She refused help,but before they could move a bloke standing at the end of the alley ran at them and proceeded to beat seven bells of crap out of Anna’s ex-husband. They couldn’t get him off,so Becky tried to stop him. She had a chisel in her hand from deco-

“They were returning from court,where they had been charged with attempted murder”

rating,and desperately stabbed him; as he stumbled,they managed to scramble inside. The man and the woman they had tried to help then both tried knocking the door down until the police arrived and they were all arrested.

Meanwhile,I was sitting in their car wondering if they had central locking.

Hitchhiking the wrong way

By Tim Clark, Travel Editor

Iwas leaving Cardiff heading down to Devon for the weekend. Forget sitting like a lame duck reading books for a living,I was determined to enjoy the last remnants of a heatwave which had spread across the country like a warm blanket.

I had been in line for a lift to Bristol with friends but after getting up late, rushing out of the house,barely getting dressed and forgetting breakfast,Iwas inevitably let down when it all fell through.

I was already two hours late,so decided to jump on a train and hitch from Cardiff Junction instead. It was hot,

I was hungry and shattered from the previous night out,and I was standing by the side of a roundabout in the midday sun.

After half an hour,I managed to get a lift with two women,Anna and her partner Becky. Something clicked and I realised that these two were hitched - a real life Thelma and Louise I thought, true lesbian style. I made the mistake of asking where they came from. The story I got was somewhat interesting. They were returning from court,where they had been charged with attempted murder. Instant flashbacks about hitchhike disasters came to my mind. I thought that I was going to get on TV as the victim of some lesbian murdering

We need your stories! If anyone has had a misadventure then email grtravel@cf.ac.uk,and we’ll try and get it into comic form. Cheers!

It was at the point when she started describing punctured kidneys that I started feeling a bit weird: an overactive imagination combined with slight sunstroke and no food meant that before I knew it I was unconscious on the floor of their car.

Next thing I knew I was parked by the side of the M4 looking up at two shocked and very confused lesbians offering me peaches.

It got even stranger. It turned out that the pair were were faith healers, and I was advised everything from tree root to something tantric which I will not explain,and was dropped off in Bristol to rest and recover. It was a morning neither I nor they will ever forget.

Illustrations:TimClark

How did Diana help the fight against Aids? Quench investigates

By Ian Loynd

Six years after her death, Diana,Princess of Wales, dominates headlines once again. Our fascination by this iconic royal still surprises me. Her compassion for the disadvantaged and non-conformity to the royal norm captivated a nation. Indeed,this subversion of the norm gave her unparalleled celebrity,dwarfing that of her peers.

It is Diana’s work with Aids sufferers which most closely links her to the gay community. At a time when President George Bush called for mandatory Aids testing of all Americans and religious crackpots raved about the spread of the

Gay to Z Legacy of a princess

Drag queens

Love them or hate them,if you’re gay you will be subjected to bitchy jokes and a chorus of I Know Him So Well at some point in your clubbing life. Treasured by some,despised by others,drag queens are artists with a unique style. And guess what,dressing up like a woman doesn’t mean you’re gay. More importantly we must remember that a drag act is just that - a performance to entertain. They may look damn awful,but God bless ‘em all.

Employment rights

Surprisingly,employment rights for gay and lesbian people have only recently come under scrutiny in

gay plague,Diana made remarkable progress in the education of society about the disease.

She quenched public hysteria and heightened media frenzy by visiting HIV patients. She talked to them. Sat on their beds. She touched them.

“The poignancy of this act was anchored in its simplicity”

The poignancy of this act was anchored in its simplicity. Suddenly,Aids sufferers were as the name implies –victims of an awful debilitating illness.

Newspapers printed pictures for the first time of patients,frail and vulnerable,crippled by the disease - and a

princess holding their hands. Perhaps it is perverse to find beauty in a situation shrouded with sorrow. Yet its effect is demonstrated in each of us today –Aids awareness is integral to sex education and prevalent in student society especially.

We owe a debt to the work of Diana.

Interestingly,when Diana took her sons,William and Harry,to visit Aids patients,she told them they were suffering from cancer.

Parliament. New laws are to be passed to ensure that you cannot be discriminated against because of your sexuality. However,a clause will remain which states that employment may be terminated or refused for ‘genuine occupational reason’. In other words,religious employers in particular can sack you because they do not believe homosexuality is correct. Sounds like a cop-out to me.

Fellatio

I really thought this had something to do with the American West. Turns out a fellatio is a good ol’ blowjob. Who’d

have thought? If there’s one advantage to being a gay man,this has to be it.

Gay gene

Nature or nurture? Will we ever know? Most gay men and women will tell you it’s just the way they are,suggesting that they are born homosexual. I’m not sure I agree.

Human psychology is so complex and misunderstood,could experiences in your life - such as being let down by dominant male figures - not affect your sexuality? If neurologists don’t know,I’ll be damned if I can be bothered to find out.

A bit of rough!

Hooray! You don’t have to be a smelly traveller any more to enjoy Rough Guides.Our intrepid team of reporters investigate a new series of pocket sized titles without even leaving the safety of Cathays

Rock encyclopedias that claim to be ‘complete’ or ‘definitive’ are,quite frankly,asking for a shoeing. There are always going to be a few bedwetters crying themselves to sleep as they find no mention of their favourite Jap-rockers,Seagull Screaming Kiss Her Kiss Her. With this in mind, The Rough Guide… attempts to condense fifty years of rock excess within 1200 pages and,while inevitably overlooking key acts from the genre’s formative years,it comes pretty close to fulfilling its goal.

All the godfathers are here (Elvis, The Beatles,Led Zeppelin et al) along with the new breed of over-inflated motherfuckers high on Jimmy Chamberlain supplied speedballs (see The Strokes,Cooper Temple Clause) plus the odd chancer (Cosmic bloody Rough Riders?!) thrown in purely for comedy reasons.

On occasions the over-opinionated discography comments venture into fanzine territory (see Peter Shapiro on Al Green to induce vomiting).

The book’s major achievement is its ability to look beyond the stereotyped guitar,bass,drum set up in favour of

Slint and the terminally underrated Moldy Peaches make up for many of the publication’s drawbacks.

If you’ve got a spare twenty quid and you don’t know your Radiohead from your Talking Heads,buy this book. Get educated. Chris Brown

the sadly departed Ian Macdonald, investigating each song in incredible depth,it would seem that all bases are covered with no need for rehashing.

However,sometime Mojo scribe Chris Ingham has created a worthwhile book,less ‘rough’ than its title suggests. Obviously a labour of love, he has managed to fit an incredible amount into its 400 pages,while keeping the book light and enjoyable enough for the casual fan. Chapter headings such as ‘Don’t Fear the Reeperbahn’ invoke the playfulness of the Beatles themselves,while the oppressive legacy they left behind is treated with the reverence it deserves.

However,and to his credit,Ingham is not afraid to denounce the subsequent solo offerings of each,where the quality varies wildly.

You’d be forgiven for thinking there is

Covering The Beatles’ history,solo years,releases,films,extracurricular Beatle activities,Beatle landmarks across the globe,and even a US discography which highlights the extremely different releases,this book is more than a great introduction to the uninitiated. Overall,a great starting place,with a lot of information gathered in one space. It will please those who hate having to plough

Football,as Gianluca Vialli said,is "an old,funny game." Which in a phrase pretty much sums up this superb book. Starting,as they should, at the invention of the game (between them the Chinese,the Aztecs and the Romans founded the basic origins) and being as up to date as you could possibly hope for,this is the perfect guide for the Statto in all of us.

Ever wondered which team Franco or Mussolini supported? The result of the closest finish to a season ever (a Romanian league in 1983-84 which had 10 points separating top and bottom),or what on earth a man called Segar Bastard had to do with the game (he was a referee appropriately) then this is the book for you. Packed with the most unusual,amusing and fascinating facts about football you could possibly think of, The Rough Guide… makes superb reading either in small doses or in the eternity it takes Wolves to score an away goal.

Each cleverly written chapter explores a different aspect of the beautiful game: the players,both famous and infamous,the clubs that have left their mark on history for a variety of reasons,the best games ever and the most noteworthy stadiums in the world. Special mention is made of the culture surrounding football,from films to songs to haircuts. They even pay special note to those two classic football computer games, Sensible World Of Soccer and

a winter’s evening on the terraces. A feast of footballing joy - in the words of Danny Bergara,"football is a game - the language,it don’t matter as long as you run your bollocks off".

Andy Parsons

THE ROUGH GUIDE TO CULT POP

A word of warning: this book is not for the boring,boring sods who spout bullshit about ‘proper music’,and who steadfastly maintain a belief in the superiority of ‘real music’ over ‘that manufactured bollocks’. This book is cool enough to reference The Clash and Jacques Brel – and to have the wondrous Debbie Harry on its cover –but also honest enough to admit that, yeah,the Spice Girls had some pretty good songs as well. The rock/pop distinction is false; they’re as ephemeral, trashy,serious and goddamned magnificent as each other,and that’s why this book is in love with the whole shebang. Don’t even think about whining "but they don’t write their own songs".

Trivia dominates: this book boasts guides to all the key figures in the history of pop (The Ramones,Pet Shop Boys,Mel & Kim) and the most seminal number ones,lists galore,and a page dedicated to the unknown subject of You’re So Vain. Where else could you find out who the first British female pop act to perform behind the Iron Curtain was? (Lulu,Poland 1966, if you must know.) Crucially,it never at all takes itself seriously. Pop is a frivo-

THE ROUGH GUIDE TO THE LORD OF THE RINGS

"Epic seems too small a word for The Lord Of The Rings."

It’s almost time to get the anorak out of the cupboard,put on your Ring of Power,find a mate called Sam,and head to the nearest bookshop – ready to pick up a copy of The Rough Guide To The Lord Of The Rings,available from November 1.

It seems an impossible task to produce a ‘rough guide’ to something as grand as Lord Of The Rings,but this pocket-sized offering provides an informative general overview of the happenings in Middle Earth.

The guide begins with a concise biography of JRR Tolkien,depicting how the epic adventure may have come into existence. Subsequent chapters provide an overview of the main characters and races,and also a sightseer’s guide to locations – both the fictional places of Middle Earth and those selected for the films. Also included are interesting sections on the influence that Tolkien and his masterpiece have had upon the world, and the types of memorabilia that exist today.

This guide certainly serves its purpose - broadly covering the significant aspects of the Lord Of The Rings phenomenon. It’s easy to pick up and flick through,doesn’t need to be read

INSIDE THE ZOO WITH U2

Lola Cashman

John Blake

To be quite honest,unless you are a big U2 fan this book is pretty pointless,and even then you would probably not be too interested in anything it has to say. The book seems to be swiping back at U2’s management for their treatment of the author during her employment with the band – throwing in the occasional bit of interesting insight into the ‘world’s biggest band.’ The book is written simplistically,often

THE PTERODACTYL’S WING

Whenever the word poetry is uttered, sweat as painful memories of GCSE English come flooding back,which is then accompanied by images of Wordsworth wandering aimlessly around the Lake District spouting reams of crap about nature. If this portrayal best suits you then fear not: help is at hand. The Pterodactyl’s Wing new and refreshing anthology of thirty-six homegrown

sketching over details because of promises made to various members of the band or other persons regarding "pacts of secrecy". The book also fails on its promise to intrigue readers regarding the revelations made about various members of the band,tending instead to induce confusion as to how such simple and often trivial people have become an inspiration for so many.

Taking these issues to one side,the book is amusing and worth borrowing off a mate for a laugh. The highlights include Adam (the bassist,for those not in the know) crying because his old socks were thrown out and the author kicking Bono in the bollocks live on stage during a rendition of Party Girl. But then it also suffers pointless diversions,which include details of

FINEST AND DARKEST HOURS

Before even venturing past the front cover,the reader is confronted by a far from attractive picture of past politicians. Images of Edward Heath, Margaret Thatcher and John Major succeed in sending chills up the spine of anybody unlucky enough to remember the damage inflicted by previous Tories before Tony Blair’s New Labour had a bash.

Prejudice aside,Kevin Jefferys has triumphed in focusing upon key political events while highlighting the complexities which surround the action. Snapshots range from Churchill’s rise

poets combining unique styles which advocate nonconformity and daring to be different. Among the talent on display are two Welsh artists who attend none other than Cardiff University (beat that one UWIC!). Current PhD students Kate North and Lisa Mansell top the billing with contributions such as “Advice on Heavy Petting in Coastal Areas” and my personal favourite,“C-Shanty”. The latter is a short and compact poem which captures the harsh but enchanting majesty of the sea. Mansell’s effective manipulation of language complements the melodic tone and allows a diversity of levels

over Chamberlain to the corrosion of the Iron Lady and emergence of John Major. In contrast to these seemingly dry and uninteresting subjects,the author has spiced things up by dedicating an entire chapter to the sex and scandal surrounding the highly controversial Profumo Affair. However,before the imagination gets too carried away by the thought of a steamy romance, the action reverts back to 20th century politicians and the consequences of their decisions. Conflicts such as The Falklands War and Black Wednesday are cleverly discussed and analysed to produce a new and refreshing portrayal. Finest And Darkest Hours does not attempt to hide its academic content and is directed towards a specific audience. The chronological structure and attention to detail enables a satisfying and complete read. This well construct-

house parties back home – nothing to do with life on the road with U2 at all. All in all the book is a giggle if you have nothing else to read (including the Cornflakes ingredients) but not to be taken seriously,or bought,if you think you are really going to discover a whole lot about U2. Which makes it a disappointment for me to be honest, but I’m sure all the die hard U2 fans out there don’t really care what I think. Andrew Ferguson

to co-exist. Additional work from the much-acclaimed Abergyvenny poet John Jones injects a further breath of fresh air. His total disregard for the conventions of punctuation succeeds in liberating the words and allowing the reader freedom of interpretation. However,just as things were starting to look up I stumbled across Lloyd Robson’s donation. Although it is always pleasing to find something modern and creative,I couldn’t contain the laughter at lines such as “listenin to me flesh refillin & chillin 2tha bone afta me piss”. It felt as though Ali G had been using a pseudonym. Apart from this,I was pleasantly surprised with the cross section of work in the anthology. It is a definite read for anyone willing to try something new! Jessica Webb

ed and researched book is ideal for anyone with an interest in British politics,but beware - it is definitely not for any fainthearted Jackie Collins fan! Jessica Webb

Welsh World Poetry Parthiau

Kevin Jefferys Atlantic

Maggie: ‘spine chilling’.

U2 take a break from being kicked in the nads by Lola Cashman

Still Life

B-Unique

The duo that is Aqualung wowed us all earlier this year with their bittersweet advert soundtrack Strange And Beautiful. This came along with a reasonable first album; however,they have failed to match it in any way,shape or form with their second effort. This album makes The Thrills sound good! Not even worth a penny. Harry Shiel

MARIAH CAREY

The Remixes Columbia

This is one of those really bad remix albums that pop songstresses make in an attempt to recapture some of that lost fame. Mindless sampling over what were originally halfway decent songs and a lot more ‘shoo bee doo’ than you’d care to mention,and quite frankly more than should be allowed. All that can be said is: save your money! Sarah Ahmad

1992-2002

Junior Boy’s Own Underworld,then. Also known as the group which did that “lager lager lager” song way back when. They started in the 80s as a dodgy ‘funk’ group,picked up an extra member in the form of Darren Emerson and suddenly got good. They then released three of the best techno albums of the

90s before Emerson left and they went rather ho-hum again. Fortunately this twodisc compilation only really covers their prime,along with one post-Emerson cut. The hits (Born Slippy, Cowgirl etc.) are all here,making this a good starting point for those getting into the group, but it also includes a few rare early tracks and nonalbum versions of songs to give longtime fans something to chew on. There's a range of styles on offer

his follow-up disappoints for many reasons. Adding a backing band spoils the vitality of the songs,which are nothing special anyway (either lyrically or musically) and there is a polished sheen to the production that seems designed to push the button in your head marked ‘background music’. Of the few highlights,opening track and live favourite Hands Down summarises the best day of Carraba's life and Ghost Of A Good Thing laments the shallow strivings of a close friend. Although Carraba might have moved on from apartment arguments,he will inevitably live up to one of his song titles: Again I Go Unnoticed Rob Telford

JETPLANE LANDING

Once Like ASpark Smalltown America

Jetplane Landing dream of 2000,they long to be from El Paso,they want to be known as Cedric or Omar. Unfortunately they simply

here,from the (admittedly dated) techno stomp of Spikee to the paranoid orgasms of Moaner,via the positively summery 8 Ball Underworld's more reflective tracks are missing from this compilation,but that's easily excused when the material offered is so much fun. Buy this if you're curious about the group,then dance around your living room like an idiot shouting about erasers of love. Aw,go on.

Cassidy Phillips

Vagrant

Christopher Carraba has obviously studied at the school of hard knocks. His breakthrough UK release The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most reinvigorated the acoustic rock genre,the embittered lyrics and cathartic rawness striking a chord with emo fans everywhere. Unfortunately,

aren’t good enough. That’s not to say that Once Like A Spark is a bad album,but its angular riffs and intense vocals were perfected by ATD-I long ago. Chris Brown

Between Darkness And Wonder Mercury

Former glories refined by blissful trip-hoppers Lamb. With awkward attempts by similar artists to revise the genre after its late-90s peak,Lamb have paradoxically emerged keeping the flame alive by trimming down their own trademark peculiarity. Between... is an album for newcomers to love but purists may question such conformity.

Dave Gibson

FromLust To Dust Millenium

Thankfully better than the "Ibizah" soundtrack it wants to be. The chilled electronic beats on this album are akin to a blissed-out Beloved incorporating components of Jam & Spoon. Whilst this makes for enjoyable background music,attentive listening is rarely rewarded,and at 70 minutes it somewhat outstays its welcome. David Ford

B B ii g g w w ii n n ......

Holding On Hopefully Boobytrap

Born from years of songwriting,personnel shakeups and generally getting shafted left,right and centre,Small Victories’ debut LP was always going to be at odds with any bandwagons that happened to be trundling around. Like all the greatest bands they exist as kings of their own world. A world where songs are as sinister as they are beautiful and harmonies as

lush as the first bite of a freshly picked watermelon.

Two voices echo through the skies: James Milford and James Chant,each a shoulder-perched devil or angel,a ghostly mountain top croon or a pendulum swinging between heartbroken submission and spiteful stabbing. It’s fucking effective.

Critics in the past have grasped at Radiohead comparisons,and while this influence is undeniable Thom Yorke wouldn’t have effed off into electro-obscurity if he still had it in him

to pen a song as melodically fragile as Kids’ Chorus. The title track, meanwhile,is an electric storm of epic U2-ism,but somehow still brilliant. By transcending their influences with gateau-rich layers of indulgent sophistication Small Victories have given birth to the best album of the year - bar absolutely none. And just like any case of child abuse,we can only pray that knowledge of this fact becomes much more than ‘our little secret’.

Jamie Fullerton

ence with the follow up to the classic Braindance Coincidence. With over an hour of new and classic material,it’s a perfect introduction for the uninitiated into the world of Braindance,but new material from Luke Vibert and Aphex Twin guarantee it’s cult status. Essential.

Andy Parsons

VARIOUS WILLIS

Rephlections Rephlex

Officially one of the coolest record labels on the planet, Aphex Twin’s Rephlex label celebrates 12 years of excell-

Aphex Twin: Fold your hands child, you’ve got hair like a peasant

Come Get Some 679

At first Hayley Willis comes across as just another average country/folk singer making very 'nice' music which tries to cuddle up somewhere between Beth Orton and the Carter Family. However,repeated listening reveals that

the hype she is currently enjoying is indeed justified. Her voice is familiar but by no means dull,and the songs are both relaxing and emotive.

The gentle acoustic rhythms wheedle their way into your soul,calming when you feel they should be tiresome.

Comparisons to Joni Mitchell may not be entirely merited, but she might manage to break some hearts yet.

David Ford

Kylie: Cheeky

Startastic/Birdnest Touch And Go

Enon’s eclectic style is similar to that of The Mars Volta,but instead they prove to have an ability to create a respectable tune. Both tracks lack any coherence. Nevertheless,promising. Samuel Strang

HAPPYLIFE

Breathe For Me

Albert Productions

Repetitive. A jaunty start turns into a confused blob of guitars and drums. They don't seem to know what groove to fit into,ending up rockier than Snowdon. Hannah Perry

KENTUCKY AFC

Singles 31 ACE SOUNDS

give them that. Sarah Ahmad

Fear Of Falling

Ace Sounds

Good news,Skin! You aren’t the only ex-member of Skunk Anansie to run out of ideas: your old guitarist, Ace,is announcing his bold new musical direction by employing an angsty female to warble over a mid-tempo soul-rock backdrop. Mat C

BUSTED

Crashed The Wedding

Universal

Aspiring to a Blink/New Found Glory style,but failing and instead just looking like another cheesy boy band prancing around with guitars trying to be bad ass punks. They play their own instruments though,we’ll

Here And Now

Toast Hawaii

Confused as to the genre and the song goes nowhere. However,the vocals are good and you'd still consider picking it out of a bargain bin... well, maybe! Debbie Green

DESERT SESSIONS

Crawl Home Board

Stiff

Creepy collaboration: Josh Homme mumbling menacingly,PJ Harvey mewling

“it’s evil!”,and a riff that sounds like a monster chewing a human limb. Your Halloween party is nothing without it. Chris Griffin

RADIOHEAD

Springsteen accent. Pretty boring. Nathalie Wire

KYLIE MINOGUE

Slow Parlophone

Sounds like a computer game but ‘they’ call it electroclash. Kylie tries out the monochrome sound with an American accent,which isn’t as cute but just as sexy. Nathalie Southall

THE SONS

One Man Floats

Sounding like The Coral if they had all been born with but one arm each. People who have the ability to play instruments should not be allowed to make such uninspiring music. Craig Driver 2+2=5

Ignore any music press propaganda about Radiohead having lost their way in the years since the

release of Kid A. Fantastic guitar work from Jonny Greenwood and additional colour from Godrich’s production proves this as good as anything on OK Computer. Jeremy Townsend

THE THRILLS/THE SLEEPY JACKSON

Great Hall,Cardiff

Tuesday October 14

Unseated and unhinged,The Thrills stride confidently into funky town as snappy and tenacious as a persistent terrier at the heels of ultra-cool rock. First though, Antipodean appetiser The Sleepy Jackson take to the stage. Lazy,lumpen and lacklustre they appear to be immersed in their own prog-garage wonderland,and that’s where we'll leave them.

Bright-eyed Dublin boys The Thrills stroll through a set of fantastically hedonistic dance nuggets,not in the Pete Tong euphoria sense but instead an exercise in toe-tapping,knee-jerking New York swagger. Conor Deasey's haunting vocal coats the stuttering rhythms; jolly while striking and sinister. Brassy strut Santa Cruz (You're Not That Far) is an obvious highlight,making itself at home in the subconscious,and Until The Tide Creeps In slips them into a previously concealed emotive gear. No doubt,The Thrills have written the shuffle soundtrack of the year and now translated it into the live arena. Simply,a band that wants to be your new best friend. Greg Cochrane

THE PREFERRED METHOD OF MOVEMENT/SIX MONTH PLAN

Barfly,Cardiff

Wednesday October 15

"We’re here to save the world!" yells Six Month Plan’s vocalist. It’s an overambitious way to start a set of muddy, sub-Silverchair grunge-pop. What is this,1994? The only moments of enjoyment come from the frequently off-tempo drumming which adds a trippy element to the set.

The Preferred Method Of Movement have simpler ambitions: to get the crowd shakin’ their asses. They do it so well that for an hour,the lowceilinged,sweaty dungeon we call Barfly feels like the sort of place your parents talk about going to in the 70s. This funk is the real thing: onthe-one,dirty,sax-coated and heavy, heavy,heavy. Microphone-shagger

Jason Draper may not have the voice of idols James Brown or Prince,but he equals them for hyperactive,possessed stage charisma. The songs ooze filthy sexual basslines and even lewder lyrics,which come to their natural conclusion with Jason screaming "I’m coming! I’m coming!" as creamy guitar licks and squirts of saxophone lash over pulsating bass and drums. The music ends,and the crowd leaves with the knowledge that PMOM are the best funk band in Wales. Mat C

HUNDRED REASONS /INSTRUCTION/GARRISON

The Engine Room,Cardiff

Wednesday October 22

Technical problems postponed the gig’s start until 8.30. This left roughly 300 dedicated fans freezing outside for nearly an hour:not the best start to the night. The biggest cheer of Garrison’s set came when their speakers faltered. No pun intended. Honest.

Instruction’s brand of gravel throated rock was met with a scattering of moshing and some muted clapping for a hard-working but uninspiring performance.

However,the crowd were jolted out of their indifference by the first note

of Answers. Hundred Reasons’ set was dominated by tracks from their first album Ideas Above Our Station, much to the crowd’s delight. If I Could, I’ll Find You and What Thought Did threatened to blow the roof off the small venue. Hundred Reasons also used the intimate setting to unveil a handful of new songs. These interrupted the otherwise constant crowd sing along but were still met by the same rapturous infectious pogoing. This was Hundred Reasons’ first date since the Carling Weekend but any suggestion of stage rust was vehemently refuted by this seemingly noteperfect performance. Colin Duran’s vocals have never sounded better and his endless energy combined with a well judged set list made this an absolute belter! Matthew Viney

Hundred Reasons: absolute belters! Photo:Simon Shoulders

Photo:Tim Alban

Great Hall,Cardiff

Friday October 17

The Great Hall revelled at the chance of seeing Kosheen on their visit to Cardiff,and while the amazing live set by no means blew everyone away,it was a gig riddled with gems of musical talent. The audience,as one might expect,were a mixed bag. Kosheen are after all a moderate band,not average in any sense,but moderate in the way that they can appeal to anyone with an appreciation of what music should be. Common to all gig goers was a tremendous sense of expectation,that something immense was going to happen. In this respect they were left rather disappointed. To be fair,Kosheen are not a band who lend themselves that well to the live stage and while Sian's emotional Welsh homecoming did add a certain electricity,there was little continuity. The combination of the newer songs, with their heavier guitar influence,and older drum’n’bass material gave an overall impression of a lack of coherence. They are a good band but they suit a pub juke box rather than a stage. Overall,despite the negatives, the audience was left feeling optimistic that Kosheen will do better things: they are moulding their own unique sound but have not yet taken it to its full potential. Fingers crossed. William Young

SUPER FURRY ANIMALS

City Live Arena,Newport

Wednesday October 15

Everyone else seemed to swine up, but Super Furry Animals rode the Britpop crest then promptly bloomed into star-scorched wizards,always with an unpretentious ear for melody. And doesn’t opener Slow Life show it. The electro-druid bleeps crank up with the stage empty,then to a rapturous reception the Furries boot-kick in live, and the beautiful venue swells with national pride. And with six wonderful albums to pick and choose material from,the entire event is steeped in pedigree. Golden Retriever rocks like a bitch (arf), Receptacle For The Respectable morphs into a collective headbang, Herman Loves Pauline has still got that tack-sharp edge that made Radiator the best of a decade. And Gruff looks the absolute bollocks; untamed crop flailing and his subtle charisma charming the minions. There’s almost no need to don a Power Rangers hemet,but he does it anyway. Upping the ante with every

number,after a 15 minute technoheadfuck the band vacate to the dressing room then return as Nepalian yetis complete with size 20 feet,the entire Goldie Lookin’ Chain rap collective,and just for good measure walking traffic cone Howard Marks fucked off his head swaying with a tambourine to a capillary-blowing The Man Don’t Give A Fuck. ‘Special’ doesn’t even come close. Jamie Fullerton

ERASE ERRATA

Barfly,Cardiff

Saturday October 18

Erase Errata are a raging whirlwind of oestrogen,sweat and guitars. A relentless barrage of jagged guitar lines,fractured vocals and incessant

Photo:Tim Alban

rhythms. Their new album At Crystal Palace is 28 minutes of the finest damn guitar music you’ll ever shake your ass to and in the flesh the whole experience is ratcheted up to 11 at 111mph. Though they deserve better than to be pigeonholed,tracks like Harvester and Retreat The Most Familiar sound closest to the work of Sleater-Kinney and The Rapture. But who they sound like isn’t important; what is important is these four girls play like there’s no tomorrow and make rock seem relevant and exhilarating again. Just pray you get the opportunity to experience them in the flesh. Andy Parsons

ATHLETE/ALFIE/REPAIRMAN

Great Hall,Cardiff

Sunday October 19

A highly expectant crowd were ‘entertained’ for two hours by two-piece Repairman (who sound like Stomp with a Casio keyboard) and indie stalwarts Alfie,who seemed to have lost their way somewhat. Frontman Lee

Gorton was either pissed or stoned; either way,there was little to enthrall the uninitiated punter.

Athlete,however,had the ability to win over an expectant crowd (and in the process probably become Joe Britpop’s ‘sing-along’ band of choice, if they weren’t already. Indeed,from the opening mellow piano chords of the soaring single Beautiful to the ecstatic encore buzz of Westside,the band are so laid-back as to almost fulfil vocalist Joel Pott’s insistence in Dungeness that "there’s no need to make a sound when you’ve got smiles

Athlete: Going the distance

Photos:Tim Alban

Alfie: Plucking up the courage to ask Cat out

instead". As You Got The Style is broken down into an acoustic crowd anthem,instinct tells me that this is the first time since Coldplay’s Yellow in 2000 that a chorus hook has been embraced so fully by The People. Athlete have been criticised in some quarters for being boring and dull. Undoubtedly there is some truth in this,but simultaneously it is also an under-appreciation of what they do best,which is writing corking tunes.

Rob Telford

DAMIEN RICE/CARRIE WOODWARD

ClwbIfor Bach,Cardiff

Thursday October 16

Now is definitely the best time to see Damien Rice. His name is everywhere at the moment and there is a ripple of genuine excitement at his presence, yet he is still secret enough to play an acoustic set at the small,smoky and slightly sticky Clwb Ifor Bach. Carrie Woodward opens and sings wispy, haunting songs which are only slightly spoiled by comments like "I wrote this in a pink and purple floaty room".

Rice himself is refreshingly unpretentious; he invites people onstage so everyone can see and talks about the weather between songs. His bittersweet lovesongs inevitably attract kissing couples but he veers away from this with darker lyrics like "you want to be fucked inside out" and an unexpected cover of Seven Nation Army,with the riff played on violin. Very rarely does an artist write moving songs about relationships without degenerating into easy listening but Damien Rice succeeds and manages to be both lovely and cool. Vicky Allen

Man in tights

“Springtime for Hitler and Germany! Winter for Poland and France!” Craig Driver looks back at the films of Mel Brooks

Inthe present climate of gross-out comedies with nothing much to say but “I’m young and I’m horny”,the films of Mel Brooks have often been my saving grace,a refuge in times of cinematic despair. Brooks’s early comedies remain relevant due to their intrinsic understanding that all great comedy should work to satirise and expose serious social and political anxieties.

PRODUCERS

Cast: Zero Mostel,Gene Hackman

The film focuses on Max Bialystock and Leo Bloom who produce an intentionally offensive musical entitled Springtime For Hitler. Brooks holds Nazism up to ridicule in the hope that the corresponding laughter will ensure that such an obscenity can never again be taken seriously as a political philosophy.

Best line: Dancing Nazis singing “Don’t be stupid,be a smartie/Come and join the NaziParty.”

Brooks twists the traditional western out of shape in order to show the deformity of some of the genre’s values,notably the one about white supremacy. Its uninhibited sexual ribaldry and its raspberries at outmoded gallantry and heroism succeeded in gaining three Oscar nominations.

Best moment: The first ever fart joke committed to film - crass but hugely influential.

Focusing on Dr. Frankenstein’s grandson Frederick the film does not so much parody the original horror classic as perform a demented transplant on it. Featuring a terrific array of characters,the film revels and excels in witty dialogue and charismatic performances.

Best line: Igor to Frederick: “You take the blond,I’ll take the one in the ‘toiban’.”

Watch these films and all will become clear.

Cast: Gene Wilder,Madeline Kahn, Mel Brooks

Cast: Gene Wilder,Marty Feldman, Peter Boyle

YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN 1974

The Producers

Young Frankenstein

Blazing Saddles

Mel Brooks

In America

Constantine (24

Dir: Jim Sheridan

Cast: Samantha Morton,Paddy Constantine

InLOVEACTUALLY INAMERICA

America is the latest offering from director Jim Sheridan (My Left Foot, In The Name Of The Father). It follows the fortunes of a young Irish family as they struggle to survive in New York and come to terms with the death of their young son. This is hard to describe without using phrases like ‘emotional rollercoaster’,and ‘heartwarming.’ But sod it,it’s an emotional cockle warmer,but not in a crappy Hollywood way. This is lighter than Sheridan’s past films and fun but still has its darker scenes. The acting is brilliant with great performances by Samantha Morton (Minority Report),

People) and newcomers Sarah and Emma Bolger.

See it if you are sick of rubbish Hollywood crap; don’t see it if you don’t want your girlfriend crying on your shoulder.

Donald

Sinclair-Smith

Dir: Richard Curtis

Cast: Hugh Grant,Andrew Lincoln, Keira Knightley,Liam Neeson,and every Brit actor ever

Love Actually is the latest British rom-com and the directorial debut for Richard Curtis,the writer behind Four Weddings And A Funeral and Notting Hill. As in his two previous

films, Love Actually relies on Curtis’s keen depiction of finding humour in being a typically British hopeless romantic.

Hugh Grant plays Britain’s new Prime Minister who falls hopelessly in love with his charmingly foul-mouthed tea lady (Martine McCutcheon).

Meanwhile recently bereaved architect Daniel (Liam Neeson) is consoling his 10-year-old stepson,who has fallen in love with the most beautiful girl at his school. In another storyline,a failing pop star is making a half-arsed Christmas comeback and forever taking the piss out of his manager and best friend.

Those are only three of the dizzying number of storylines which are skilfully interwoven in this film,but what makes Love Actually a better film than Four Weddings or Notting Hill is that it deals with love in more guises than romantic: it looks at platonic and unattainable love. This gives the film more breadth and more relevance than Curtis’ two previous films. While they were entertaining in charting the idiosyncrasies and pitfalls of finding love, Love Actually manages to extend the relevance of Curtis’ observations to a wider audience.

However,the film isn’t without fault. As with Four Weddings and Notting Hill,it annoys me that Curtis’ characters are always upper middle class Londoners. This is probably done to satisfy the American market,but for the film to be taken to heart more by British audiences it would be nice to see one of Curtis’ romantic comedies set outside of trendy London boroughs or the Home Counties.

John Williams

Paddy

Hour Party

SECONDHAND LIONS

Basedon the graphic novella by Susannah Moore this cinematic adaptation has received press interest for its explicit sex scenes involving Meg Ryan. While the sex may indeed be graphic it should not detract from a film that broods with a dark psychological tenderness.

Frannie (Ryan) is a lonely English teacher who becomes entwined in a gruesome murder investigation while participating in a passionate affair with the investigating Officer Malloy (Ruffalo). Although Ryan’s nudity is given ample screen time,she does give a credible performance of a woman alone and vulnerable in uncertain surroundings. Unfortunately the film is dragged from shadowy scene to shadowy scene without ever really allowing the characters to impose themselves on our affections.

The film makes continuous use of metaphors to elaborate the lack of love in Frannie’s life. Whether it be a cheap charm bracelet,a jilted subway bride,or a 5ft high funeral heart,it seems that Campion is determined to make it blatantly obvious that love will forever be twisted,at least as far as this film is concerned. Rather, Campion appears to prefer to drown all her characters in a continuous montage of confused camera angles and choppy editing.

Do not go and see this just to look at Ryan’s breasts and her shiny bottom. See it because she gives a commanding performance. If you do not like Meg Ryan or her films then I would advise you to Seven and see how this kind of film should be done properly.

Craig Driver

RobertDuvall and Michael Caine as old gits in the American South,sitting on their porch shooting at hapless travelling salesmen? The premise sounded promising and I was curious to find out how Osment would work with such a formidable duo.

In the role of young Walter,dumped on his country uncles by his flaky mother (Sedgwick),Osment,of The Sixth Sense fame,portrays a youth from a broken family finally opening himself up to others: to wit,his crusty uncles Garth and Hub. These two eventually accept their nephew,and even put down their rifles long enough to buy travelling salesmen’s merchandise. Through stories of the brothers’ youthful adventures in Africa,with the Foreign Legion,and making away with a sultan’s gold (told through colourful and comical flashbacks),and present day exploits involving an elderly lion,a sleepwalker and Robert Duvall thrashing four 20-year-olds in a knife fight, the uncles and nephew learn to live as a family.

McCanlies’ film,though patchy due to its flashback within a flashback format,is watchable enough with cosy laughs aplenty. Good solid comedy in fact – not least Caine’s awful Deep South accent. Even more appalling, though,is Osment,who frankly doesn’t deserve to be on the same screen as Duvall. Compared with his Oscarnomination-worthy performance, Osment’s performance is that of an eight-year-old trying to get out of a sponsored walk. Wait for the video and bitch about Osment in the comfort of your own home. Gwenllian Thomas

It’sbed-wetting time again: Alien is back on the big screen. We at Quench haven’t seen this new version yet,but Ridley Scott’s 1979 scifi/horror flick is always a safe bet. Forget Sigourney Weaver running about in panties and the cheap manin-a-suit alien: the reason to watch Alien is the intense,claustrophobic atmosphere. Quench’s favourite phallus-obsessed oddball artist,HR Giger, was responsible for designing the aliens with their slimy resemblance to human body parts,and the spaceship’s corridors and the planet’s surface have a sinister life of their own. Hopefully this new cut will add some sense to the film’s disappointing slasher-movie finale. Mat C

Dir: Jane Campion

Cast: Meg Ryan,Mark Ruffalo, Jennifer Jason Leigh

Dir: Tim McCanlies Cast: Robert Duvall, Michael Caine,Haley Joel Osment,Kyra Sedgwick

In The Cut

Secondhand Lions

War is hell...

...but oh,it does make for exceedingly good computer games! Sam Mills reviews Hidden And Dangerous 2 on the PC

The gaming world has been saturated by WWII shooters in the past few years,and with games like Return To Castle Wolfenstein (old as it is) and Medal Of Honour setting the bar high, Hidden And Dangerous 2 has a lot to live up to.

Upon installing the game (all three disks of it!) you are treated to a film showing an SAS squad kicking Nazi ass. What’s better than watching it in flashy FMV? Well,doing it yourself obviously!

This isn’t a game that you can just pick up and play. It is also not for the gung ho action freak; it is a thinking man’s shooter. Each mission has to be meticulously planned down to the finest detail,including which men you want in your team and which weapons you equip; down to what colour pants you wear!

ImagineTom Clancy’s Rainbow 6 meets Battlefield 1942 and you are in

the right ballpark.

If you are a WWII buff then check out the instruction manual as it has a brief history of the SAS plus a massive section detailing how far the authentic weapons in the game can fire,how heavy they are,etc.

Missions range from snowy forests,to deserts and jungle; all standard FPS style levels. Where H&D2 stands out from the crowd,however,is with stunning weather and effects: trees sway,snow gently falls,breath can be seen on the cold night air and Nazis contort into horrific positions when you cap their ass. It’s all impressive stuff.

online opportunities. As every

Multiplayer is pretty comprehensive too,with a wealth of options including deathmatch and flag control to name but a few,offering endless

“It weren’t me guv, it were some bigger boys what done it”

The game does have its faults, however. Sometimes you order the squad to follow you and instead the guy at the back decides it’s a much better idea to walk into a tree or fence for half an hour! Also,if I get shot through a wall of solid brick and metal one more time,my PC isn’t going to like it,that’s for sure. This is forgivable though,as the satisfaction gained when you get your first kill or finish the first mission is enough to make up for the faults.

All in all a decent game if you like your shooters thoughtful and hard. The number of weapons and soldiers on offer provide plenty of replay value - and that’s without mentioning all the online fun to be had with the multiplayer. It’s just been released, so if you have a bit of spare student loan kicking around and a decent enough PC to play it on, Hidden And Dangerous 2 is definitely worth a look.

Even Nazi scumbags need a bit of R&R

Bland theft auto?

Ay carumba! Eat my shorts! D’oh! Ha-ha! Gareth Lloyd

finds

these and other worn-out catchphrases in The Simpsons:Hit & Run for PS2, Gamecube and Xbox

Licensed games,eh? Almost unreservedly shite,the lot of them. The best they can hope for is a short-lived grace period based on the player’s love of the source material,wrapped up in a soso driving/shooting/platforming/whatever experience.

Well, TS: H&R changes all that!! Nah,just kidding. It’s a standard Simpsons licence tacked on to a metoo Grand Theft Auto clone. Happily, though,the whole thing hangs together better than you might expect,mainly due the unrelenting joy of romping round downtown Springfield (obsessive fanboys of the series will cream their collective jeans at the attention to detail). Like GTA,there are missions aplenty to keep you occupied, but it’s more fun simply exploring the city and causing havoc in Homer’s pink Sedan. Also a bit like GTA,then.

And,thank God,the scripting and dialogue are more than adequate,and managed to coax a girlish giggle or two out of this reviewer’s usually

stony façade.

It’s flawed: the game’s objectives quickly get repetitive,and the graphics are ropey in places (the Simpsons

themselves look especially odd). But still,this is a fun,endearing little title worthy of consideration to any selfrespecting Simpsons lover.

I could explain what’s going on here, but then I’d have to kill you.

Digital delights

www.edible.com

In this age of whining and pretentious vegetarians and vegans,its time for the omnivorous and carnivores amongst us to fight back! So where

better,or should I say worse to fight the power than edible.com. This slickly presented site attempts to hawk all manner of weird and wacky foods,providing photos,flash films and descriptions of

Simeon Rosser-Trokas guides you through Digital’s fortnightly pick of the best and worst the web has to offer

both the foods’ taste and origins. It would have worked too if most of it wasn’t so disgusting; chocolate covered scorpion anyone? Thought not.

www.aeroplastics.net/dana_wyse/dwmain.html

A fantastical collection of toys that never were,but most definitely should be made,as well a huge selection of joke shop style ‘pills and remedies’ for almost every conceivable scenario. Personal favourites include the Drug Dealer Play Kit,which includes a mobile phone,a roll of £50s,some pills and a bag of coke. Sadly,the label clearly states "Does Not Include Pit Bull". Or perhaps you’re off to France but oh no! You can’t speak French! Well,instead of just shouting at our Gallic cousins,pop a pill that will allow you to “speak French immediately". Go to this site and realise that all your childhood toys were crap compared to what’s on offer here.

...yeah,yeah,yeah. Look at you lot: sitting on your arses,slumped in front of the TV,on your third can of Red Stripe. It’s 2 o’clock,for Christ’s sake! Come on. Come along and write for us lovely Digital folk. Got anything geeky you want to write about? Played any good games? Bought any classy gadgets and want to tell the world? You know you want to get your name in print (...or alternatively just fancy blagging some free stuff). Pop along to the weekly Quench meeting (Mondays,5pm) or come and find us in the office. Now.

Averagely amusing

Sherman Theatre

Whenever I told anyone I was going to see Rhona Cameron,I had to follow it with “you’d know her if you saw her”. She’s one of those celebrities that you recognise,but aren’t quite sure why. I might be the only person in the world who never saw a single episode of either series of A Celebrity… (I really didn’t television in Talybont,sceptical TV licence people),so I missed her apparently legendary performance there. However, despite branching into writing and television,her rise to fame was through standup comedy.

The show got off to a slightly shaky start while Cameron warmed up with some vaguely amusing chit-chat that had no real direction. However,the show soon got into full stride with a good mix of observational humour and introspec-

Rhona’s in a pensive mood...

tive jokes about her personal foibles. Icouldn’t say I ached with laughter or

Cardiff Uni gets musical

This autumn sees the Sorrel Quartet return for the second year of their residency at the university’s School of Music. The quartet are no strangers to performing in a university environment. Tonight’s was the

“The quartet handled the piece with elegance and clarity”

third concert of seven to be performed over the course of the academic year, and the repertoire chosen nicely spanned 200 years of string quartet history.

First on the programme was Haydn’s

Quartet op 64 – a restrained composition displaying all the traits of the Classical era of which Haydn was a central figure - and the Sorrel Quartet handled the piece with as much elegance and clarity as you would expect from a group of this standing.

A noticeable change of mood followed as the audience was presented with Shostakovich’s Fifth Quartet, which reflects the private side of Shostakovich’s musical output. It is no secret that the Russian composer had several ruffles with the Soviet authorities over the content of his music,and it is probably no coincidence that he kept this piece from publication until after Stalin’s death. However,as much as it might have annoyed Stalin,it is difficult to see anybody fifty years later disapproving of Shostakovich’s challenging harmonies and dramatic shifts of mood.

The concert closed with

begged for mercy but there were some great one-liners. Cameron responded well to heckles and veered off into improvisation at some points, which really proved her strength as a comedienne. She has a large lesbian following,but her material appealed to a wide audience,managing to aim some jokes at her main fan base without alienating the rest of us.

Everything was rounded off with a song which seemed a bit Victoria Woodish,only oddly self-congratulatory. Cameron has certainly achieved a lot to be proud of,but it’s maybe best to leave the appreciation to the audience,who were only too happy to provide it,especially considering her style has been described by the Guardian as “self-deprecating”.

Cameron’s popularity is also her main weakness. She rightly pulls in big crowds and filled the Sherman Theatre,but sitting in regimented rows detracted from the intimate atmosphere which is one of the pleasures of stand-up comedy. It was a great night out but next time I’ll head to the Glee Club. LauraTovey

Mendelssohn’s lively First Quartet, which allowed the musicians to prove their technical agility,and at the same time demonstrate their ability to give four remarkable individual performances without damaging the effect of the quartet as a whole. The Sorrel Quartet will return to the Music department on December 2.

JeremyTownsend

Cardiff University School of Music

RHONA CAMERON

THE SORREL QUARTET

Unsure where to go tonight? Fancy a change from your local pub or club? Or just want a nice place to eat? Well, you’re on the right page...

7-9 Miskin Street, Cathays

A two-minute walk from the union,The Social offers a break from the obvious student haunts before a night out in town or Solus. Mondays and Tuesdays offer happy hour all night,so even without much cash the drinks are still flowing fast and cheap!

We spent most of the night sipping cocktails with the two-for-one offer,and recommend the Fuzzy Social - a classic mix of vodka,peach snapps,orange juice and grenadine. Also under the BOGOF offer are glasses of house wine. Those who feel particularly extravagant can go for a bottle or the popular vodka red bull pitchers (six shots and two cans of VK energy) - or for the more traditional drinkers,pints of XXXX and Boddington’s are £1.50 all day!

The only problem with The Social is that it lacks the lively atmosphere we have come to know from the Taf. It didn’t fill up until after 9.30,by which time drinks offers on other nights of the week are over. But we’d still recommend it as a stop on a pub crawl to the union or its late night partner in crime,Bar Cuba. Jenny Duxbury and LisaWalkley

Solus/ St Mary Street

Thursday 22 October saw the opening of a new night at the Union,Climax. With its cheeky slogan “Are you ready to come?”,reasonable drinks offers and a free Aftershock shot on entrance

this seemed a surefire way to pull the punters in. Not so. There was a severe lack of beer-guzzling students - in fact I think there were eight of us.

The difficulty on putting on a successful night on a Thursday at the Union may be in large part due to the ever-increasing popularity of Rubber Duck on Wednesdays and the Lash/ Comeplay double weekend whammy, and suggests that the future looks bleak for those wishing to ‘Climax’.

Whatever the reason this particular night was still young and,taken in by the dazzling lights of Cardiff city centre, off I headed to The Lounge on St Mary Street. A short flight of stairs leads down into a subterranean hangout for those who like it smooth.

Understated but chic decor marks out The Lounge from other local haunts. The bar provided a fashionable yet highly relaxed atmosphere,no doubt supplemented by the student DJs. These boys kept the mini-dancefloor busy,spinning out a selection of breakbeat and funky house.

Drinks promos were on offer and,with three bottles for £5,things were looking good! So for those looking for something a little bit different with an unpretentious atmosphere,head for The Lounge. Laura Barette

TERRA NOVA

Mermaid Quay, Cardiff Bay

Terra Nova is the place to eat when you fancy a treat: for sunny days,or just those rare moments when the Welsh rain is holding off,you can either sit outside overlooking the pleasant view of the bay or cuddle up to your loved one and gather friends all round on the big comfy seats inside.

Service is fast and friendly. However,the prices aren’t aimed at student budgets,so this is not really the place for a quick bite with your mates. Main courses are from £5.95 for the delicious burgers,which come in large portions with potato wedges,to £9.95 for a curry. Desserts are slightly on the steep side but with a huge portion of sticky toffee pudding,my personal favourite,you certainly won’t be complaining!

There is also the ‘Tiles’ menu from which you can pick and choose a selection of Mediterranean foods,but you will need to choose plenty if you want to fill up - these portions are not as good value for money as those from the main menu.

Located in Cardiff Bay along Mermaid Quay,Terra Nova is ideal for a break from Cardiff’s busy city centre or simply for those who have never ventured to the Bay before (to get there, take the 35 bus). Jenny Duxbury

Got any favourite pubs, clubs or restaurants you think we should all know about? Why not send us your reviews!

Email: grmagazine@cf.ac.uk

Next week... we review Metros

Photo: Gemma Griffiths

Photo: Laura Barette

Photo: Gemma Griffiths

42 Postcards

French fags

Think UK smoking laws are draconian? Oh dear

By Andrew Davidson Grenoble Correspondent

Last Monday did not start at all well. I made my way across town for a three hour lecture, économie politique, which begins at the ungodly hour of 8am. Naturally,as close friends would expect,I was late. Thinking that this might not appear to be bonne forme,I tiptoed my way up the back stairs intending tohide in the back row of the amphitheatre, only to find that my efforts were entirely surplus to requirements: the lecturer had yet to arrive.

His absence continued unexplained and several hundred students trooped off in separate directions. Thinking that I should capitalise on having got out of my bed earlier than a postman,I sloped towards the nearest newsagent to pick up a copy of Le Monde,hoping to catch up on world events. My luck was out,once again. The shop was shut. So too was the next paper shop that I tried…

On speaking to my contacts on the street,it emerged that there was a national strike to coincide with new tobacco legislation coming into play. Not only had newsagents downed tools,as it were,so too had many heavy smokers - my pipe-puffing political economy lecturer included.

Later that day,I joined the tarsmeared masses to walk the streets of Grenoble,preventing trams and buses from returning tired workers to their respective homes. My rationale for doing so was entirely grounded in the absurdity of the new French antismoking legislation. While it makes good sense for pupils to be banned from smoking in the schoolyard (they previously were not),it can only have been in the most perverse of mindsets that Nicolas Sarkozy,the Home Office Minister,banned the sale of

packets of ten cigarettes. As any fool can guess,halfsize packets are wonderfully useful in reducing smoking frequency,the overall aim of the new laws.

On a different tack,all "straight" fags have suffered an overnight tax increase of 20 per cent.

Given that over half of French people smoke,this is a cause of mass discontent with the electorate. It’s no surprise,then,that so many workers were keen to forego a day’s takings to demonstrate their dissatisfaction with an uncomfortably illiberal government. By all accounts a display of quintessential French fraternité. Either that,or it was an excuse to nick off work and spend the day smoking in the street.

Respect in retrospect

LED ZEPPELIN

II (1969) Atlantic

What modern bands seem to lack is energy,a passion,a realisation they are doing what millions would love to do. What you get on this album is the opposite.:forty plus minutes of pure drive and power from the most hedonistic of groups.

Recorded in 1969,essentially still ‘hippy-dom’,this is an album full of loud guitars (Page),thunderous drumming (Bonham),raw vocals (Plant) and fantastic bass (Jones). Songs such as Heartbreaker and Whole Lotta Love never let up with their unforgettable riffs,and Robert Plant’s unique vocal stylings far outpower would-be imitators.

Jimmy Page recorded this album virtually single-handedly while touring the States,yet it still sounds far more exciting and attention grabbing than the majority of modern rock bands. Ramble On and What IsAnd What Should Never Be show the balance Led Zep struck between blues,acoustic and unrelenting rock with Bonham showcasing his full range of styles to nurture the band through the various style changes mid-song.

Despite its slightly Spinal Tap-esque drum solo, Moby Dick in particular shows why Bonham is regarded as one of the best drummers of all time; introduced by Page’s funky riff,it grabs the attention superbly.

The Lemon Song and Bring It On Home are the remaining two tracks, each sitting comfortably with the rest of the album. Indeed,the latter’s style change at the 1:40 mark is one of the high points,Jimmy Page’s screaming guitar shaking the song into a full blown rocker.

Overall,this is one brilliant album by,in my opinion,the best band ever; however,any of the first six albums would make an equally good choice. Daniel Worth

ALLEN CARR’S EASY WAY TO STOP SMOKING

Allen Carr (1999) Penguin Books

If you’ve actually bothered to read the title most of you are probably already wanting to turn away in disgust. A self-help book to help you realise your own inadequacies,how fantastic! The majority of you probably think you haven’t got time to give up smoking - you enjoy it too much,you want to leave it until later. After all,it will make you stressed,eat more,have less fun etc.,etc.,etc...

Well,I too was a member of that 20-a-day fag hag club for a good six

A CLOCKWORK ORANGE

Dir:Stanley Kubrick (1971)

As lethal as a dose of ‘velocet’,Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange is a nasty combination of drugs,rape and ‘ultraviolence’ that leaves its audience disturbingly satisfied.

An adaptation of Anthony Burgess’s novel of the same title,the film follows 16-year-old Alex (Malcolm McDowell) and his ‘droogs’,who perform numerous acts of thuggery until frontman Alex is arrested. He is then ‘rehabilitated’ in a government program aimed at ‘curing’ the criminal mind.

A Clockwork Orange brims with graphic violence; scenes include gang warfare,group assaults and rapes. The infamous Ludovico rape scene sees Alex and his cronies torture and rape a young woman while her bound husband is forced to watch. The group merrily sing along to the tune of Singin’In The Rain during the attack: the sickening juxtaposition of child-like rhyme and sinister violence will offend even the most

years,and not to get on my morally detoxified high horse or anything but I have been truly amazed by the way that the Allen Carr method really works. None of the usual health scare tactics or financial and emotional blackmail here:not only is this an entertaining and motivational read,but I have faith in the author. After all I believe the addictive tendencies of a man who smoked 100 a day.

So forget the commercial nature of nicorette patches or the draining and totally self-deceiving nature of ‘cutting down’. Read the book,a bible for all those who what to give up,but still worth a read for those who don’t. Louise Lappin

sado-masochistic viewer.

Indeed,this scene is alleged to have spawned many ‘copy-cat’ killings: police reports describe men dressed like Alex in white suits and bowler hats and mimicking his acts of obscenity.

Beneath the violent layers,though, Kubrick raises important moral questions. Who is to blame for juvenile delinquency? Can we really ‘cure’ a criminal mind? The satirical undertone of the film offers a prediction of a future state where our right to choose is taken away from us:a society where we all become ‘clockwork oranges’. Perri Lewis

Is love in the air?

We sent two single students for a lovely meal to see if romance would blossom in

Guy’s profile:

Name - AJ Silvers

Age - 30

Studying - English Literature

AJ on Cristina:

What were your first impressions of Cristina?

Really friendly and really funny.

How was the date?

Really good.

Were there any awkward or funny moments? No awkward moments at all. How was the conversation?

It was really interesting because we’ve both travelled and gone to the same parts of the world.

Did you swap phone numbers? Yeah,we did at the end.

Did you go out afterwards?

We went out for another coffee. Are you going to meet up again? Yeah,hopefully.

Kiss? Anything more?

By Kerry-Lynne Doyle Blind Date Editor

Girl’s profile:

Name - Cristina Lee

Age - 32

Studying - Art and Aesthetics

Cristina on AJ:

What were your first impressions of AJ? Good!

How was the date?

It was brilliant. We had a fantastic time. A good laugh.

Were there any awkward or funny moments? We found out we had both worked in the same area of Israel in the same year which broke the ice! How was the conversation?

Fantastic! We talked for five hours and we seemed to click.

Did you swap phone numbers? Yes. Did you go out afterwards? Yes,we left when it closed to find a quiet place to talk.

Singletons,we need you! We have lots of lovely guys just waiting for their perfect date,so drop us a line at grblinddate@cf.ac.uk or call 07816 675273, whether you’re straight or gay. You’ll get a free meal,drinks,desserts and a chance at romance! a shot in the dark is open ‘til 11, seven days a week. Coffee bar with BYO license! Own roasted coffee. Next to Wetherspoon’s,City Rd 02920 472300

“He talks a good game”

Sat freezing in the Millennium Stadium last month,with the contents of my crumpled notepad acting as evidence for the prosecution against Mark Hughes’ dismal European hopefuls,it was not the poor Welsh performance that stole my attention.

Standing just three rows in front of me,braving the same immobilizing breeze and visual torture of watching Wales succumb to a distinctly average Serbia and Montenegro side, were three proud Welshmen.

Dancing with a spirit that would render William Wallace a coward and ferociously fending off the enticing misery born from such a display, these patriotic fans defied any urge to abandon their fallen fortress. Rather they pledged faith in the wounded dragon of Wales and vowed that their side would qualify for next year’s European Championships in Portugal.

Welsh support is a pleasant change to the demanding negativity that hangs like an anchor around the necks of bigger nations.

As the all-conquering England rugby team stumbled to victory over South Africa in the current World Cup,pessimistic press hounds across the bridge whetted their appetites,sharpened their teeth and tore chunks out of their beloved national side.

Wales, Wales, Wales, Wales, Wales

Paper talk rounded on Clive Woodward’s "underachieving superstars," who,as tournament favourites,should be racing ahead of such opposition.

But the wheels of England’s "sweet chariot" were turning with the handbrake on,and the subsequent mass panic instigated by Fleet Street’s masters of gloom cast the squad into shame.

When a tremendous team such as England,submerged in a tangled mess of their own talent and expectations,fail to deliver anything but

“Welsh support is a pleasant change to the demanding negativity that hangs like an anchor around the necks of bigger nations.”

the superhuman performances expected of such a colossal power, then the knives are plunged when backs are turned.

Sitting cosily in their armchairs thousands of miles from the action, these condemning critics pay no respect to the awesome unpredictability of sport,and demand sublime victories on every outing. A slightly faltering triumph against the 1995 World Champions is simply not good enough.

While Welsh sport is not always inundated with talent on the pitch, off it their support is passionate, enlightening,and saturated with pride. Team members are regarded as family in this modest nation,yet across the river,where skill and ability flow freely,simple qualities like loyalty are widely seen as laughable substitutes for winning results.

When David Beckham was sent off

Sports writer of the year Riath AlSamarrai sings Sospan Fach

in the 1998 World Cup,The Mirror, "the people’s paper" printed a Becks dart board and invited vigilante groups nationwide to vent their frustrations at the man who "robbed" them of global glory. Touching sentiment towards the man now sat alongside the Queen as an icon of our national identity. Claims that sport can be a fickle environment are not always wrong.

In the last year,results will show that the Welsh rugby team endured a horrendous eleven match losing streak,causing heartbreak and disappointment to a proud nation drowning under the weight of past successes.

However,though far from content with defeat,the Principality did not react by sending out lynch mobs to hunt down and bring to justice those perceived as responsible.

Avoiding the irritating underdog mentality,Welsh fans are realistic about their chances. Recognising that they lack the players to make an impact on the game’s highest level, the Welsh more than compensate for such inevitabilities with enthusiasm and loyalty to their countrymen.

The World Cup wins against Italy and Tonga will hardly make it easier for greats like JPR Williams and Gareth Edwards to believe the dragon is once again breathing a raging inferno,because in reality the performances represented little more than a wimpy spark,but a win is a win.

This is a message the English would do well to remember before grabbing their pitchforks and torches.

For the Welsh,every metaphorical cloud - and there are many - will be accompanied by a silver lining,but across the border umbrellas will always be at the ready expecting the rain to come.

Welsh fans keep the dragon flying

Acasualperusal of Quench,or even last year’s GRiP (the muchlamented gair rhydd information pullout) reveals that music tastes amongst contributors,having previously been ‘eclectic’,is now dividing into two camps. Any gesture towards a broad canvas,or coverage of anything more adventurous than a guitar band with a girl bassist,has been sidelined in the war between ‘real’ and ‘fake’ music. Individual personal tastes have been elevated to quasimoral levels – rather than reviewing a song,clichés are churned out like production-line sausages. Let’s face it: music journalism is,by and large, a piece of piss. Write between fifty and a hundred words on a single received gratis with a pile of freebies, a description of the actual content of the recording being of no particular importance. Job done,jus’ like that. This stylistic trend,along with the glut of near-identical releases and record labels,has led to a disproportionate amount of music journalists. Is there really any more room at the trough? The music industry (surely the equivalent of a Victorian cotton mill) is terrible enough,but of the sponging freeloaders who scrape a living eulogising ‘musicians’ when there are streets waiting to be swept and meat to be packed? Are we really expected to

take their mawkish opinions seriously? Anyway,most music sucks. Especially the stuff you like,if what I hear on my journeys to and from work is anything to go by.

Commiserations to George Galloway from being ejected from a political organisation that he loved. That the Labour administration should resort to a pre-written hearing is further evidence of their slide into paranoia and oppression. Time was when you could criticise the party line as part of a free exchange of ideas –back in the day when an MP listened to his or her constituents,back when Labour at least paid lip service to socialism. In many ways,however, Galloway will be better off outside Labour,especially as many grassroots activists feel increasingly alienated from governmental policies and ideology. He may have said some pretty dubious things,but his entire political career has been overshadowed by false accusations and deliberate misquotations. Providing he remains in politics (a certainty),his fearsome reputation as a speaker will make sure he remains an irritation to Labour for some time,and an argument for a political force to the left of this increasingly Torified institution.

Timeless questions of popular culture – answered! No.1: George Formby: “Well if women like them/ Like men like those/Then why don’t women like me?” Because you’re an ugly bastard,spanner-face.

Oh yes: leg update! It doesn’t hurt any more,sad to say,so I might not be dying. However,I now have a terrible cough and a random assortment of aches all over. Plus,there’s the mental rot,the alcoholism and the insomnia,so all is not lost.

As you might have guessed,the message at the end of last issue’s column wasn’t really Friedrich Nietzsche. Well,there’s no ‘really’ about it - it was me. Think of it as another example of a person’s writing being twisted to justify a point; a respectable tactic in the right hands, but dubious all the same. A bit like quoting the Bible. For example,the letters page of last week’s gair rhydd contained two quotations from the New Testament,both taken out of context. Anyone wishing to illustrate the dubious sex laws of early Christianity and Judaism (note: early, not modern-day) should take a look at the first five books of the Old Testament.

Your Horoscopes with Madame Cynthia

Scorpio

(Oct 23 - Nov 22) At last,my friend,you are first in life’s race! The insane glow of victory will sustain you,even when you realise no one else was running.

Sagittarius

(Nov 23 - Dec 21)

Your policy of getting deep down and dirty may well impress the laydeez,but judge and jury just aren’t with the programme.

Capricorn

(Dec 22 - Jan 20) Due to lack of attention,Venus,your ruler,has been forced into receivership. Your sign will be on the market as of Wednesday,priced at £1.99 or three litres of raspberry ripple ice cream.

Aquarius

(Jan 21 - Feb 18)

Research will play an important part in your life in the coming weeks. You might want to find out how many chillies can be fitted up the human rectum,just to know what to expect.

Pisces

(Feb19 - Mar 20) Ahh, there’s nothing like the radiant warmth of a loving relationship, and let’s face it,this is nothing like it. That’s why your tea tasted like shit - it was!

Aries

(Mar 21 - Apr 20) Bad news concerning your ‘wacky’ sense of humour. A hilarious practical joke backfires on Friday when you randomly gun down friends and colleagues before turning the gun on yourself.

Taurus

(Apr 21 - May 21) The alien beauty of the stars and their celestial dance once again continues to have no relevance to your life. Brian Blessed,on the other hand,still guides your every moment from the seclusion of his lair.

Gemini

(May 22 - June 22) No matter how many times you say “it’s all gravy”,you know deep down that some of those dishes contain bernaise sauce and custard. Do not fear. Your secret is safe with me and my associates.

Cancer

(June 22 - July 22) Laying down some bangin’ choons usually brings a smile to the lips and a dip to the hips of everyone in the joint,but something’s wrong here. I mean,there’s only about seven people dancing,although that cutie’s giving me the eye. Aha. The club’s next door - this is a funeral parlour.

Leo(July 23 - Aug 23) Finally, romance is in the air. Sadly,it has the appalling stench of a recentlydisturbed charnel house. Man, woman and child will run from your awful presence. Looks like it’s suicide again,pal.

Virgo

(Aug 24 - Sep 22) Good news! At last you will find out whether the light in the fridge stays on when the door is closed. A walk-in freezer does count,right?

Libra

(Sep 23 - Oct 22) A surprising realisation dawns on you this week: the harmless little jokes and quips are actually taken quite seriously and have hurt many people’s feelings. Relax! That’s just the booze talking. Come on,just enjoy being a bastard.

Madame Cynthia’s picture does not appear this issue as she hates the pleading gaze of your idiotic eyes. Which is quite odd,in my opinion,seeing as she never used to mind before. Maybe the self-styled ‘raving beauty’ has let herself go,or has had to wear glasses.On the other hand,she is pretty nasty.Hmm,I wonder...