Quench Issue 78 - 2 March 2009

Is it just me, or is the environment just ridiculously passe?

Remember the days when energy saving was the talk of the town? Now it's more of a murmur; a distant rumbling from your guilty conscience. All this drivel about recession (loath as I am to mention economics in my editorial) has put a bit of a downer on all the 'go green' hype of the comparatively affluent early noughties.

Global warming has long provided politicians, crusties, and general party poopers with a good excuse to piss in your imported vodka. All traces of smugness, though, have been wiped from their soap-scrubbed chops as the pennypinching takes hold...

Suddenly, that questionablelooking washing powder from Lidl looks a whole lot more inviting. Who cares if it doesn't come with turnto-30 smugness? It's half the price! Students have been doing it for years, but now the whole country's catching on.

But what about the polar bears? While we're all chasing the pennies, the poor little buggers are up there are clinging for dear life to the shrinking icebergs. Don't get me wrong, I'm certainly no treehugging river-washing greenie, but my conscience goes into overdrive whenever I'm stocking up on environment-raping imported groceries... How big is the carbon footprint for cheap - but not energyefficient - light bulbs? What about German mouthwash? Russian baked beans?

As environmental issues are relegated to space-filling stubs on the inner pages of the nationals, they're well and truly crammed in behind the credit crunch... The economy-versus-environment battle has commenced! HP

{"A person who enjoys having intimate relations with hairy individuals that liken themselves to baboons." e.g. Sally has been a baboonaphile for as long as she can remember; she just cant get enough of king kong.

"This is the biggest Cheeseburger ever! With this big Cheeseburger pillow, whether you are watching TV or taking a rest, it will provide you with the best comfort! It is very soft and cuddle! There are cheese, lettuce, and beef inside." For pillow-munchers everywhere.

'Poledancefan' on himself: "My name is Joel. I'm 47 and married with two kids. My son is 19, my daughter 12. My wife teaches at a high school. I work as a reviewer of Long Term Care Facilities and other medical vendors. I like music, reading, French language, politics. I'm not formally religious, but open and respectful of others' beliefs about spiritual and philosophical matters." And he poledances.

The Rant:

Dancefloor Demons

To write a piece vilifying the habits of the heavily madeup, vodka-drenched clubgoers – particularly the ones who stalk through St. Mary's Street at 2am like an army of perma-tanned clowns on a do-or-die mission for cheese and chips – could be seen as a risky move.

As nightmarish as that coulrophobic dystopia may sound, we must not forget the odd swarms of eagle-eyed louts in tight-fitting stripey shirts, sporting sweaty brows and circling the aforementioned group as they dance in what can only be intelligently described as some form of primitive and altogether disgusting mating ritual (coulrophobia means a fear of clowns, by the way). I should be alright: I'm fairly sure your average shit-faced student has forgotten how to read by this point anyway. The last time I scoped out UCAS I'm fairly certain I saw universities letting kids onto chemistry courses with the only prerequisite being ownership of a pencil. But I digress.

In no world would this writer do away with the joys of drunken club-based madness. After all, who, even if only quietly at heart, doesn't just love nailing those extra five shots and waking up with the sort of hangover that would have God himself reaching for the asprin. And that dude can really drink.

OK, perhaps not everyone, but I believe the point has been made. We're British, it's what we do and in some twisted sense what we are proud of, so let no one say that the right to binge-drink and wake up next to hideous members of the opposite sex is falling under the hammer here. The question is simply being asked: "Does the whole process have to be so steeped in filth?"

Perhaps my take on the matter simply shows me up to be better suited to an age long gone. Perhaps sticky club floors, abusive door staff and fat girls undressing each other

whilst managing to maintain their offensive and outrageous dance moves are all just unavoidable by-products of a necessary system – a system that generates huge amounts of revenue and sates the common student's thirst for mayhem, denied to them in other areas of dayto-day life.

But I just don't buy it. How can we truly and with clean conscience enjoy ourselves as functioning members of a civilised society when

I have to accept the fact that these people exist. What I don't have to do is enjoy it...

“ “

the first words we expect to hear out of your average club-going male are "You in the black and white stripes: get your fuckin' baps out."

And the first thing we expect to see from your generic club-going girl is a behind barely covered by the meagre trappings of a tiny blue dress probably purchased from the 'under-12s' section of M&S. The addition of a little mystery and perhaps just a touch of class to the experience as a whole could improve immeasurably what is often a disorientating, aggressive and highly emotive evening. On the other hand, perhaps we should all just bite the bullet and resign ourselves to the fact that the worst bits about any night out are never going to change; after all, we wouldn't put up with them if the best bits weren't

such nauseating fun, right? You might even get to meet a Z-list celebrity on the

way, like Timmy Mallet. That's right. Timmy fucking Mallet.

Still, you wont catch me making any great effort to befriend the next drooling cretin who trips over his own ego, knocking my drink and leering at my girlfriend as he rambles past me towards the girl in the under-12s dress.

I have to accept the fact that these people exist. What I don't have

huw he thinks stuff ?

Watching live music is one of the most incredible, enjoyable, even life-affirming experiences you can have. Strangers unite in their shared love for several people creating nice sounds through hitting and plucking things with their talented hands. It's a positive thing, man. And what makes it so positive is the sense of community. Say what you like about intimate gigs: no one would enjoy their favourite band playing to them and them alone. How embarrassing would that be? You'd have to clap really hard.

You meet some great people at gigs. Friends, randoms, lovers – all contributing to a wonderful time.

And then there are people who do the exact opposite. Some seemingly set out to destroy your evening; some don't think; some are just idiots. Gig idiots. Giggidy gidiots. Whatever.

Here's a brief roll call of the people to avoid. If you encounter any of them, kick 'em in the tits for me.

Goliath McSpilljoy: This bastard is first on the list because he's the first you'll meet at The Gig From Hell. A huge hulk of a man, he can't control his considerable size, especially after a pint or seven, and as such tends to topple, lurch and generally require the word "Timber" to be shouted before he moves. He treads on your feet, crushing them in the process, and most disastrously, he spills his drink and yours all over you. You are annoyed, crippled and smell of Carling. Enjoy the gig.

Elbows McGee: It's all about the personal space for Elbows McGee: if anyone moves too

close they're getting it in the ribs. Who cares that it's a moshpit? Who cares that thousands of people are packed into a space barely big enough for a medium-sized armadillo? NO ONE TOUCHES ELBOWS McGEE.

if you encounter any of these people, kick 'em in the tits for me

The Bored Girlfriend: Leaning on the railings with a frown on her face, The Bored Girlfriend couldn't care less about the band. Why was she dragged to this? She's missing Top 50 Showbiz Comebacks. What can she do? She knows. She'll scowl. She'll scowl at the band, at the fans dancing and at her boyfriend, who can no longer have a good time listening to his heroes. If she's not going to enjoy this, she's going to make damn sure no one else does either. This woman needs

shooting.

Mr Tall: OK, it's not his fault, but still – piss off, Mr Tall. Also in this category of getting in people's way: girls who climb on people's shoulders (except they have no excuse).

Smack Adams: This man is so monged from taking every drug under the now terrifyingly bright and purple sun that he has no idea where he is, who's playing or what the hell is going on. Waste of a ticket. Waste of chromosomes, really.

The Band's Best Mate: He knows everything about the band. He was there in the beginning. He went to school with the bassist. He practically stalked him. He once auditioned to be keyboardist, only to be told the band's sound didn't suit a keyboardist. The next week they hired one. He wasn't bitter, because he wants the band to be successful. But he was irritating then and he's irritating now. He writes down the setlist for his website. He narrates facts about every song to strangers who just don't care. And he keeps shouting at 'his mate', the bassist, smiling smugly at his importance.

In conclusion...it's like Walkers' 'Do us a flavour' crisps. I don't know which I hate the most.

Diary of a

Another beer? Why, yes, my good man! To escape the monotony of everyday life, Jack Doran bravely entered our challenge to answer 'yes' to every offer, proposition and query for a whole week. This is his diary...

Monday

The first day of my journey into the predetermined got off to rather a dull start. Having predicted a whirlwind of excitement and danger, I was to be wholeheartedly disappointed. I kept to my word and answered yes to all questions, yet the most extreme shift from my normal routine seemed to be having sugar in my coffee.

My plan for a day of study was soon dismissed upon the offer of a lunchtime game of pool. Would I like a pint with that? Certainly. Another? But of course. Saying yes had never been so easy!

After an offer from a friend, the itinerary for the evening was decided, off to the Union for that factory of fun.

It is at this point I advise caution to anyone considering an experiment in the consistently positive response. Being asked if one would like to get a drink is an all too often occurrence on a night out. This, coupled with the almost inevitable suggestion of sambuca shots, equals a steady disintegration into messiness. Having stumbled down the union steps at 2am, I stuck true to my pledge

however, was not against a friend or even a passer-by, but instead, against that glorious institution that is the dodgy burger van. So with that, the night came to a close with a loud and raucous confrontation with the chief grease vendor.

Tuesday

I awoke on Tuesday morning to a predictably gruesome headache. Having stumbled through to the kitchen, I cursed my optometrist flatmate when he wondered if I would be attending lectures on this fine day. Of course I would, with a smile across my face.

“Care to freshen up?” the toilet-dwelling gent asked “ “

He secured his place in my good books by offering me an eye test that afternoon as a means of him practicing his art. Despite my perfectly fine vision, I assured him it would be a pleasure, I would look forward to it. With that, I took off for an afternoon of joyous intellectual furtherance.

By mid afternoon, with sleep deprivation kicking in, I returned to the meagre comforts of Talybont North. Collapsing on my bed, I slept the evening away only to be suddenly woken by a knock at my door. We had been visited by a fellow fresher from upstairs with a friendly offer of coming up to their humble abode. To my dismay, the feature activity of this

evening was to be a ‘ session Joy. I simply fail to find any pleasure in cramming into an uncomfort able room with six other aggressively competitive compete for ultimate alpha male status. However, saying no was not an option. My potential sleeping time slipped away as I joined the boys for X-BOX and cheap, warm lager.

Wednesday

Phlegm-filled and thick-headed, I awoke at the mid point of my experiment. I could feel my body’s discontent with the previous two nights' antics as a hefty cold set in. I lay in bed pondering if this whole fiasco was really worth continuing. Rather than a succession of extreme, extraordinary events (marriage/a holiday to the Gaza Strip/purchase of an Aston Martin, for example), I seemed to be only falling ill and slowly pickling my angry liver. But no, this was not the attitude of a Yes man. In fact, you might say I sounded like a no man, and nobody likes a no man. With an almighty head rush I sprang from my bed, ready to say yes once again! Bring on the crazy times!!

So, the day came and went

Yes Man

with little excitement. I dutifully agreed to another night out, this evening's lash was to be at some trendy new club. The pints and shots flowed as the evening progressed. Little did I know, the most exciting of opportunities awaited me in that building. The whole yes man experience was all going to be worthwhile. Having emptied my bladder I was confronted in the gents by the most incredible of offers. “Care to freshen up?” the toilet-dwelling gent asked, and freshen up I did. He splashed the cheap fragrance across me and, damn it, I had never felt so fresh.

Thursday

With a combination of a hangover and a hefty bout of man flu, I crawled out of my flat on Thursday morning for a smoke. It was there I found a neighbour and fellow fag muncher filling his lungs. Conversation soon turned, as it often does in these situations, to smoking. He asked the dreaded question: “I thought you were giving up smoking, Jack?” No. I wasn’t. I had vaguely considered it at new year but essay deadlines and exams soon discarded that idea. So there I was, a Yes man, trapped, cornered and unable to escape. With every fibre of my body resisting, I conceded and put an end to my

With my mood worsening, I had only one agenda in my mind, to avoid all human contact.

caffeine cravings kicked in and the mammoth journey to the kitchen was unavoidable. I was

room full of friends-

of-friends. I thoughtlessly asked what they were doing that evening. Getting lashed of course, ready for a trip to the social. Did I want to come? Try and stop me! For those of you who missed the luxury of living in Talybont, the ‘social’ is quite simply the home of quality entertainment, buzzing atmosphere and great value in Cardiff. Feeling slightly feverish, I agreed, and to my surprise it turned out to be a really good night. No, I’m joking, it was shit. Time for bed.

Double cheese?" Yes, yes and Yes! “ “

Subway was fun. "Foot long? Extra meat?

Friday

So, at last, the final day of this ridiculous undertaking had come. Having experienced very limited excitement or wonder in the week, I decided I needed to search out the high times and fantastical adventures. Imagination lacking, I took to Cardiff's Queen streetsurely ridden with opportunities? With the aim to fill my rumbling belly, I headed to a little known, locally-based establishment known as Subway. Whilst such a journey may have taken the average man a mere ten minutes, the Yes man moves much slower. I eventually reached my destination clutching copies of both the ‘South Wales

Echo’ and ‘The Big Issue’ . Further to this, my travels were rudely interrupted when a grubby looking hippy-type jumped out at me clutching that trademark charity clipboard. “Hiyaaaaaaa!” She squealed. Did I have a minute? I had as many as she wanted. So, eventually reaching said food outlet, I was not only two pounds out of pocket (magazines, now in bin) but I had also arranged a direct debit sending most of my student loan to some far flung corner of the world. For fuck's sake. I have to say Subway was kind of fun. Questions included “foot-long? Extra meat? Cheese? Double cheese? Toasted? Salad? Sauce? Salt? Pepper? Parmesan? Drinks, crisps or cookies? Yes, yes, and yes!

An unavoidable trip to Cathays’s pubs on Friday evening gave me a chance to ponder the week gone by. A more perceptive person may see some kind of lesson in my lack of adventure. Awesome experiences don’t come to you; you must seek them, yeah? Unfortunately I'm not that perceptive and will only pledge to never consider such a profoundly dumb idea again. So there.

How gay is your box?

Has anyone caught a glimpse of Rick and Steve: The Happiest Gay Couple in the World? For those who haven't, it's like a combination of South Park and Queer As Folk. It is set in an all out and proud American town inhabited by every gay stereotype, from the big homo bear to the butch lesbian. It's being hailed as the great, all-gay comedy Britain has been waiting for, but Rick and Steve's sexcapades have also been criticised for belittling gay culture rather then celebrating it. But even though this show is the first all-gay community to appear on terrestrial television, there are other gay gems hidden away on most hit shows. Salacious, sexy storylines with gay under(and over-) tones abound: from Sonia Jackson to Sex and the City, TV loves going gay! By no means are gay and lesbian storylines a new phenomenon to hit our telly box; they've just become far more overt. As far back as the 1960s, television has loved a good old gay love-fest, albeit rather subversive. Who could forget Adam West and Burt Ward frolicking as the original Batman and Robin? Who could forget the kinky skin-tight costumes with all the matching accessories? I bet Alfred even got in on the action when he wasn't polishing the Batmobile. OK, I confess: I’m definitely clutching at straws with that one, but there's no need to dissect the listings to find the metaphorical gay needle in the heterosexual television haystack anymore – TV is out and proud.

LGB “

In Britain, one of the most sensational gay plotlines to hit TV screens came in 2002 with the famous Canal Street kiss between Todd and Karl in Coronation Street. When combined with the huge ratings of one of the nation's favourite soaps, the explicit kiss between two of its male characters sent viewers into a frenzy. But of course, soaps have been 'keeping it queer' well before then. Brookside (R.I.P.) caused uproar when Anna Friel performed a sensational on-screen lesbo kiss as Beth Jordache. And EastEnders followed suit with its own lesbian lovers, only to repeat similar suc-

“ from Sonia Jackson to Sex and the City, TV loves going gay!

cess by turning Walford's own teen trumpet player Sonia Jackson into a raving lesbian! And the ever student-popular Neighbours and Hollyoaks have featured a number of gay clinches. Harold Bishop has always been somewhat of a closet gay – he cooks, he cleans, he plays tuba and he loves his Lou-bear!

Moving on from soaps, we mustn't forget the comedies. The most imitated comedy shows to come out of this fair island have constantly drawn upon gay culture to deliver memorable sketches. We couldn't possibly forget the skin-tight sting vests of Wales'

TV

James Moore indulges in some channelflicking to investigate just how out and proud television really is...

favourite gay, the Bacardi-andCoke-loving, 'only gay in the village' Dafydd. Beyond the realm of the comedy catchphrase, there's the unrequited love of The Fast Show's Ted and Ralph, a class-bound love dilemma to rival Romeo and Juliet. And then there's the working-class Will and Grace, and Tom and Linda of

“

“ are homos suffering from a bad case of over-exposure?

Gimme Gimme Gimme

Even children's TV can't escape. The creator of one of the most popular new cartoon characters, SpongeBob SquarePants, has rejected claims that his cheerful creation is gay. Well, let’s face it! Anyone who lives in a giant pineapple in Bikini Bottom with a best friend that is a pink starfish has to be at least bisexual! And don't forget our handbag-carrying gay friend Tinky Winky, the original out and proud gayman in Toytown! With the likes of Graham Norton, Gok Wan and Paul O'Grady taking up primetime slots with their chat shows and regular presenting gigs, it would seem that television is most certainly a bit gay. There’s just no denying that us homos are a big part of TV...

But are the LGBT crew ultimately benefitting from gay characters and storylines, or is homosexuality suffering from

a bad case of over-exposure?

Gay characters aren't necessarily providing a positive image of the homosexual community, as they often play up to the camp, kitsch cliche. Many portrayals of LGBT characters seem to simply re-affirm the already suffocating stereotypes of the gay community. It's suggested by the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) that there's not enough gay representation and that the gay storylines and characterisations play up to negative gay cliches that gay rights campaigns have been battling against. "It's clear that the broadcast networks have a long way to go before they accurately reflect the diversity of their audience and our society," says GLAAD president Neil G. Giuliano, suggesting that the figures prove a disproportionate representation of gay culture in television programmes.

But while I’m naturally in favour of the progression of gay rights, I can’t help but think that TV is essentially about entertainment and is first and foremost a medium for storytelling. TV is to be enjoyed, not to be pulled apart for its political narratives. Before political correctness and GLAAD's reflection upon audience diversity turns even the Mitchell brothers gay, the most important thing to remember is not how many gays work behind the bar in the Rovers, but that gay culture is not ignored anymore. Even if people still suggest it is somewhat mis/under-represented, at least LGBTV is getting the airtime it deserves.

Florence and the Machine has developed quite the buzz about her wonky, arty take on pop music, having already acquired the Critics' Choice Award at the Brits this year. Despite international acclaim, however, when Ben Marshall met Florence Welch, he found a down to earth, if slightly off-kilter, young woman.

2009 is undoubtedly Florence Welch’s year. She has already secured critical acclaim on behalf of the NME and BBC’s Introducing, and was given the Critics' Choice Award at the Brits this year. Her idiosyncratic take on indie, drawing inspiration from influences as far-reaching as Kate Bush, The White Stripes and Tom Jones, drew enough attention to secure her third place in the BBC’s Sound of 2009 poll.

However, Florence is reluctant to allow this reception to go to her head. "I mean, it’s great to be acknowledged for my music in this way," she says, "but it’s really nice to see who else has been recognised as well. It’s really cool to be put with great acts like Glasvegas and Little Boots."

Despite Florence’s modesty, it’s clear that she has captured the imagination of the music world. She’s been included in the prestigious NME Rock ’n’ Roll Riot tour among other such indie darlings as White Lies, Friendly Fires and the aforementioned Glasvegas – and Florence is revelling in being part of the tour.

"This tour is such a massive opportunity for me, and to be asked by the NME to take part in it is such an honour,

especially when you see the other bands on the lineup as well. Bands like Glasvegas and White Lies are so good, and it's brilliant being able to play with them night after night."

Not only is the tour a brilliant chance for Florence to showcase her clear talent, she's also enjoying the camaraderie that a tour of this magnitude fosters.

"The rest of the bands on the tour are all really great people. I'm just really enjoying travelling around the UK with an amazing bunch of people."

“

If someone asks me a question, I'll try and give as honest an answer as I can; it's just part of my nature, I suppose “

Although Florence is clearly relishing the challenges the current NME tour is presenting, her future is also looking bright. After the NME tour has finished, Florence has her own tour planned.

"Later in the year, I'll

be heading back out on the road with a couple of amazing bands for my own tour. La Roux will be coming along with me, and I really think she's just so good. Although I'm really enjoying the NME tour, I'm just really looking forward to doing my own thing."

One of the more intriguing things about Florence Welch is the fact that she's certainly not backward in coming forward. Her interviews are noted for their quixotic nature, but it never seems anything other than natural for her. "It's certainly not a concerted thing; I'm just a very open person. If someone asks me a

question, I'll try and give as honest a question as I can. It's just part of my nature I suppose."

Florence's live shows are also renowned for their flamboyant nature, but much like her openness in interviews, Florence still protests that this is all part of her nature. "I guess I'm just a very theatrical person, really. I come from a dramatic background and so it was

bound to come out when I perform. I'm not a very insular person, so it's the only way I could perfom, really."

Although Florence is set to release her debut album this year, when it comes to playing live and recording, there really is no competition.

"I have such a short attention span that when I'm recording, I'll have to go and take a walk or something to focus my thoughts. I do enjoy recording my music, but I absolutely love playing live. It's part of my personality that comes out when I'm on stage, and when I'm cooped up in a studio, I don't think that I'm giving a true representation of what I am."

Florence and the Machine will inevitably be absolutely massive this year, having already enchanted the critics, and now moving onto intoxicated the wider public. Even though she will be thrust into the limelight, be under no illusion:part of her will always be the girl who listens to Tom Jones records and dresses like Captain America.

Lauren Laverne

on cock rock, Britpop, and mushy peas

Ex-member of seminal UK Pop Punk band Kenickie, cd:uk alumnus and now semi-regular host of BBC 2’s Culture Show, Lauren Laverne has established herself at the centre of the UK’s popular culture canon.

Utilising her experience as both a frontwoman for a successful britpop band and her nouse as a radio DJ in picking up hot new talent, Laverne now lends her considerable talents to the Orange Unsigned Acts competition. She’s relishing the opportunity to help usher in a new group of brilliant new artists.

“I’m really enjoying this series, if I’m honest. It’s the first time we’ve had singer-songwriters as entrants so it’s added a new dimension to the whole competition.” The competi-

tion in question allows struggling unsigned bands or acts a chance to win a year’s contract and a single deal. Along with other industry luminaries such as Blur’s Alex James, Lauren makes up the panel that decides the fate of the acts that take part in the show, and that’s not always something that Laverne enjoys.

“I mean, it’s great to see all these brilliant new bands and acts coming through, but it’s still a competition when all’s said and done and so some of these brilliant bands will have to go home at the end of the show. Sometimes it’s so hard to choose an act because they’re all ace. That said, there are some shockers, so it’s not always so hard!”

Despite some obvious drawbacks,

there is also plenty to be encouraged by about the show. “When we were in London for the auditions there were obviously some pretty crap bands turning up, but the amount of really ace bands wanting to take part in the program was really impressive. It makes me really excited about British music.”

Lauren Laverne’s own experience in Kenickie allows her to offer candid advice to bands within the competition, and the opportunty to get some advice from one of the UK’s premier indie reality TV judges was too good to miss out on. “If I was going to offer advice to up-and-coming bands at the moment I’d have to say just keep your heads down and keep working at it. I know that it’s a massive cliché, but if you are willing to put the

if you're willing to put the hours in, somebody will definitely sit up and take notice “ “

hours in, somebody will definitely sit up and take notice.” Despite carving a niche as a talented television presenter, there’s still part of Lauren that misses the day-to-day graft of working in a band. “There is something about being in a band that I do miss. I sometimes miss the travelling and the live experience. That said, I don’t miss all the cramped van journeys and not having any money!”

It’s not the first time that Lauren has visited our fair city. Indeed, she has fond memories of Cardiff from her Kenickie days. “Yeah, it’s defintely not my first time here. I remember staying down in the bay and really enjoying myself. There’s a really good music scene in Cardiff, and on the evidence of some of the bands who came to see us in London for

the show, it looks as if that musical tradition is as strong as ever.”

Lauren’s work as a DJ also ensures that she keeps on the pulse of new music, and was very vocal on the subject of her favourite new music. “The Kings of Leon album is brilliant, of course, but I’m really getting into the new Eagles of Death Metal album as well. Josh Homme and Jesse have done it again. Cock rock’s back!”

Thus it became time for the age-old question: what would win in a fight between a polar bear with lasers instead of eyes and a polar bear with sharks instead of arms?

“That’s a tough one, actually. I’m almost unwilling to answer that one, if I’m being honest!”After a little bit of coaxing and a mention of Noel Field-

ing answering the question, she relents. “I’m going to go with whatever Fielding went with. He’s pretty on the ball about these sort of things.”

And with that, a swarm of make-up artists descended on our erstwhile interviewee daubing her in some kind of glittery paint. It certainly seems a long way from her humble routes as the singer in a pop-punk band; that is, until an assistant wanders in clutching a plateful of chips and mushy peas. The look of delight upon Lauren’s face is irrepressable, and would be more at home on a post-pub student than a glamourous media icon. I guess that she hasn’t gone so far that she can’t come back to the humble origins that make her such an endearing television personality. interviews@gairrhydd.com /15

PHOTO: BEN BRYANT

Mourning After the Night Before?

To adapt the profound lyrics of Britney Spears, there are two types of hangover sufferers in this world: those who can handle their food and those who can't. But what, if anything, can food do to cure the devils of drink?

Hair of the dog that bit

If a dog bit me that would be the end of all forms of contact. There is, however, reason behind the apparent madness of those who chase off their hangovers with another dose of the strong stuff. Hangovers are triggered when the blood alcohol level drops a few hours after you finish drinking and the worst symptoms rear their ugly heads when the level returns to zero. For anyone wishing to delay this the 'Morning Glory' provides hair of the rottweiler with this little concoction: just mix absinthe, whiskey, egg, sugar, lemon and lime and enjoy.

Alternative Therapy

If a restorative brew ever takes your fancy, choose from crushed yellow dock root, simmered dandelion root or wheat grass, to name but a few ingredients. On the subject of alternative remedies, artichoke juice is so effective that the French banned it in case it encouraged drink-driving. Lastly, raw chicken breast is apparently a recommended smoothie ingredient (though the credentials of whoever recommends this remain unknown).

DISCLAIMER: don't fucking do it.

Voodoo Magic

When only a miracle will do, try the Haitian method. Take the cork of the

bottle from which you drank, stick in 13 black pins and wait for vitality to return. In the event of screwtops, ringpulls or multiple bottles, the details may need slight modification.

The Sponge Effect

It's the perfect good deed: a trip to the takeaway simply for the health benefits of 'soaking up the alcohol'. In reality this particular sponge is pretty ineffective and only works before drinking - this being the case because when the body has food (especially of the fatty variety) to digest, alcohol is absorbed slower and alcohol levels don't reach such dizzying heights. I, however, have every intention of forgetting this fact next time I stagger past Family Fish Bar.

The Hangover Hierarchy

The worst hangover offenders:

In honour of breakfast's long-standing contribution to the hangover cure, here are a few of our favourites…

Bloody Mary

Serves 1

- 2 ice cubes

- Vodka, double shot

- ½ lemon, juice only

- 6 dashes Worcestershire sauce

- 3 dashes Tabasco sauce

- 150ml tomato juice

- a pinch salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Place the ice into a tall glass and add the vodka.

2. Add the lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco sauce and tomato juice. Stir well.

3. Adjust the seasoning to taste with salt and pepper and serve straightaway.

The Review:

On the ever-so-rare occasion of a grim and rainy day in Cardiff, Crwys Road wouldn't be an obvious location for a pick-me-up, but hidden among the traffic and takeaways it seems there's a diamond in the rough: The Pot. Take one restaurant and one tearoom, mix them together with some homeybut-kitsch decor and you've got a winning combination.

If you ever needed an excuse for afternoon tea, this would be it. There's all the normal fare of hot drinks and smoothies, as well as some very delectable milkshakes that'll blow your average chocolate

Hash Browns

Serves 4

- 426 g potatoes, coarsely grated

- 55 g onion, finely chopped

- 30 g all-purpose flour

- 1 egg

- cooking oil

- salt and pepper to taste

1. Rinse the grated potatoes until the water is clear, then drain and squeeze dry. Place the potato in a bowl, and mix in the onion, flour and egg until it is mixed well.

2. Heat 1/4 inch of oil in a large frying pan over a medium-high heat. When oil is sizzling hot, add spoonfuls of the mixture into the pan and flatten into patties.

3. Cook until nicely browned on the bottom, then flip over and brown on the other side. It should take about 2-3 minutes on each side.

4. Remove from pan, and drain on paper towels. Season with salt and pepper and serve immediately. They'll go particularly well with bacon and eggs.

and strawberry flavours right out of the water. To accompany this, there are waffles, pancakes, gateaux, cupcakes... the list goes on.

Should you be in the mood for something more substantial, then you can hunt out breakfast, lunch and dinner here too. As well as the usual suspects, the breakfast menu includes options for anyone looking for a bit of crazy in their lives: there's corn bread, sour cream and chilli jam as one option, and a 'San Francisco special' that includes bean cakes and avocado salsa. Such standards are maintained for the rest of the menu, which includes

Chunky Monkey Pancakes

Serves

4

- 125 g all-purpose flour

- 9 g baking powder

- 5 g baking soda

- 2 g salt

- 180 ml skim milk

- 45 g butter, melted

- 2 eggs

- 10g white sugar

- 5ml vanilla extract

- 1 large banana diced

- 100g semisweet chocolate chips

- 30g chopped pecans

- cooking oil

1. Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a large bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk together the skim milk, melted butter, eggs, sugar, and vanilla.

2. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and stir in the wet ingredients, being careful not to over mix the batter. Gently fold in the banana, chocolate chips and nuts.

3. Heat a frying pan over medium heat, and coat with cooking oil. Pour 1/4 cupfuls of batter onto the skillet, and cook until bubbles appear on the surface. Flip with a spatula, and cook until browned.

a spicy sausage stew and sweet potato and goat's cheese lasagna. For evening meals, visit Tuesday to Thursday when it's open till 9. The Pot is reasonably priced and has both cake- and winebased student deals going on too. This may all sound too good to be true but there's really only one way to find out… take an open mind and a big appetite!

Jenny Edwards

THE 20 QUID CHALLENGE

On Sunday, February 15, Travel editors Andy Tweddle and Simon Lucey assembled teams and took each other on in a cut-throat battle to see who could get the furthest away from Cardiff... on £20

The Rules:

1. The absolute price limit is £20 per head on transport during the 24 hours.

2. Teams can leave Cardiff any time from midnight on Sunday, February 15 and must be back by midnight on Monday, February 16.

3. The winner is the team that clocks up the most miles in 24 hours.

Never has Colum Road seemed so empty and desolate. The fact that our rivals had left six hours before us and several of the group were nursing horrible hangovers caused the desperation of our situation to strike. And then they phoned.

They were north of London –not ideal. We were wandering up Colum Road in search of inspiration when the bleary-eyed Ben declared himself unfit for service. A combination of insomnia, alcohol and some horrendous dance moves on the Solus floor had taken their toll and he decided it was best for the team if he went back to bed.

With one man down, hundreds of miles behind and our hopes of winning dashed, we set off towards a place of solace where any student can find hope. Diano’s Kebab shop. Before we got there, however, our fortune changed.

A friendly couple that we met in the petrol station were happy to give us a lift. They were driving to Kent, giving us the option of getting dropped off at Swindon, near Simon’s house, or going on around London. Should we hope that the elusive Mrs Lucey was having a quiet Sunday so we could steal the car (and give her a DEFINITELY

Team 1: Si and Lloyd... but no Ben

planned birthday visit) or risk not getting a lift back from the notoriously unhitchable M25? The bellies rumbled and Mrs Lucey’s fridge won out.

Once we had a lift, we philosophised about our travel. We had successfully managed to hitchhike to Simon’s house in three hours – no slower than the train – and spend only a couple of quid each on a bus out of Swindon. So why is this cheap form of travel so unpopular?

all our money had been poured into the petrol tank

“ “

After grabbing a sandwich and paying Simon’s dad a surprise visit we were back on the road, this time with no constraints waiting for a lift – because we stole Mrs Lucey’s car. With dreams of France we headed to Dover, knowing that all our money would have been poured into the petrol tank of the poor little Focus so we couldn't pay for a ferry.

Buoyed more by a Hendrix CD we managed to find than Lloyd’s gentle snores, we made quick progress to the chalky shores of eastern

around it became apparent that ferry security was substantial enough that we were stuck. So we explored Dover, especially a charming fish and chip shop on the waterfront, along with the stunning cliffs and considered our next move.

After a hard eight or nine hours we had traversed most of Britain –‘Sea to stinking Sea’ – with some money to burn; now our thoughts turned to the race home, still unsure of who had won. In order to avoid disqualification we had to make it back by midnight, a task making Cinderella’s look easy.

We got back to Cheltenham station easily and while on the train home, we unfortunately couldn ‘find’ a conductor, so had to go all the way back to Cardiff for free!

This rounded up an unlikely victory by five miles.

Simon Lucey and Lloyd Griffiths

Distance Covered: 542 miles

Money Spent Per Head: £18 .00

Team 2: Andy, Claire and Emma

As our journey began, two of our team – Andy and Claire – had tactically stayed up drinking until meeting Emma for the 4am Megabus to London.

Once aboard the Megabus we soon discovered it is definitely not ergonomically designed for lying down. The bus pulled into London Victoria at around 7am with us all totalling zero hours sleep.

Feeling revived after grabbing baguettes/coffee/Creme Eggs, we hopped on the tube for a couple of quid to Brent Cross.

Despite our artful signs and young wholesome faces, after an hour standing on the Northern Circular we'd barely received a wave.

we approached anyone who didn't have weird hair, sandals or a limp

“

Pre-Raphaelite painters and their muses. Arriving at Luton services at around 10am, Andy went to throw up and Emma and Claire approached anyone who didn’t have weird hair, sandals or limps to ask for a lift.

We'd heard that there wasn't much at Luton, and the rumours were definitely true. Despite scaring a few people at the petrol pumps by asking for lifts, we did manage to get picked up without much hassle.

A lovely Indian couple on their way back to Leeds offered to take us to Leicester, and we happily agreed. Anything to get out of Luton, frankly.

Feeling rather dejected we abandoned road hitching and decided to get personal in a petrol station, where Claire found a man who agreed to take us to Luton.

Huw was everything we’d hoped

There was a slight moment of incar tension when the couple pulled over on the hard shoulder and had a domestic. None of us spoke Hindi so, sadly, we couldn't follow it. Luckily, it didn't seem to impact upon us - when we got out at Leicester the woman embraced us and said we were like her children. After standing for ages on the wrong side of the M1, we'd become slightly pessimistic. It was at this point that our first knight in shining armour, Richard, appeared. Heading to Shrewsbury, he took us right to Telford station and helpfully informed us that nine times out of 10 there was no ticket inspector on the Birmingham train on a Sunday.

Unluckily, we were that 10th time, but at a paltry £5.15 we were still well under budget, and naively, it turned that at least we'd be heading toward a big transport hub.

So arrive in Birmingham we did, to the realisation that one single to Cardiff on the train was £24.50 and we had £24.05 between the three of us. Bollocks. Time

As we headed out of town, a desolate petrol station was our only hope. Through violent accosting, we got two students called Henry and Olivia to give us a lift to the nearest services in

up more swiftly. Olivia proceeded to cry, "This is hilarious!" through lisped teeth and pump out relics from the '80s for the lift's duration.

The pair dropped us off at Corley service station and things started to get really bleak. It was dark by now and we slowly became convinced that we were going to die at Corley services – until a woman named Helen saved our lives. She was off to Bristol, but made us wait for a good half-hour while she had a KFC. Fair enough, really.

While Bristol-bound, Helen relayed to us the details of her colourful life including her penchants for Great Danes, South Park and the Pigeon Detectives, whilst playing us songs by her son’s band.

From Bristol we got the train back to Cardiff for £6.15 each.

As we wound down, it dawned on us that, in fact, this entire day hadn’t really been about travelling at all. It was the memories of the people who’d taken a chance on giving us lifts that would stick. It was Huw’s amazing job, the way Richard spoke about his children and Helen’s incredible travel stories. These were the things that had excited us most about the day; meeting unique characters each with their own journey that they’d just so happened to let us in on.

Claire May, Emma Davies and Andy Tweddle

Distance Covered: 537 miles

Money Spent Per Head: £19.80

...without borders Georgia

Next in the Without Borders series, Travel takes a look at Georgia, an easily disregarded destination. Despite the recent Russian invasion which destroyed the emerging tourist industry, Tom Crumble thinks that we should still seek out Georgia's hidden gems...

Nowhere these days is actually off the beaten track, or out of the way, or inaccessible, or untouched. The Holy Grail is an object sought after by hordes of travellers across the years and, for me, being able to visit Georgia and witness it authentically is as elusive as the fabled religious relic itself.

The generally accepted equation that –jan or –stan as the last syllable in a country's name is directly proportionate to risk of the travel experience is a falsity. The common mindset that certain countries are not to be visited by us vulnerable Westerners is damaging: to us by limiting the huge potential of eye-opening experiences we could have, but more importantly to the economies of certain such countries, for which tourism could provide a much-needed source of income.

Take, for example, certain areas of the former Yugoslavia. Before the wars of the early 1990s, these countries were a booming spot for tourism. From Dubrovnik to Mostar, people visited the area for its rich cuisine, wondrous historical sights and enchanting coastlines. Even though it has now been over 15 years since the end of conflict in the area, tourism is only very gradually re-establishing itself in the region (with the exception of Southern Croatia). If one adopts an altered perception and begins to see that the vast majority of the world is safe to travel in, it becomes mutually beneficial.

Georgia acts as a perfect example

of a destination that does not have a particularly organised tourist industry yet hosts a myriad of delights. The country boasts truly astonishing mountain scenery and has countless sights to offer anyone who touches down in her ramshackle capital, Tbilisi.

“ “

Georgia is often described as being where East meets West...

Famously the homeland of Joseph Stalin, Georgia was one of the countless countries enveloped by the Soviet Union and is one of the handful of sites often described as being where East meets West. Indeed, her capital bears far more in common with a hectic, confused, sprawling Asian city than the more ordered, grey, concrete landscapes that one usually associates with the Soviet Union.

This is seemingly reflected in her people, who show none of the stonewalling coldness often associated with Russians (even if that claim is a horrible generalisation). Indeed, outside the capital it can take a whole afternoon just to walk one block due to the constant friendly lines of sturdy Georgian men all approaching you with vodka in hand. Famed for their hospitality, there seems to be a genuine willingness

in the country to embrace the few foreigners they encounter with open arms. Perhaps this is just because visitors are still a rarity, or perhaps it's something more ingrained in Georgian culture.

Getting around the country is surprisingly easy. The networks of marshurtkas (minibuses) connect the country rather efficiently and travel to almost every city one would want to visit. Even when they don't, taxis are a cheap option and hitching even cheaper. Despite there not being a surplus of hostels in the country, there is an unofficial network of connected guesthouses that makes accommodation in the country almost effortless. The owner of one house will invariably have a sister, cousin, or mother in your next destination and set you up nicely with a place to rest your head. It seems all Georgians are related somehow.

up nicely with a place to rest your head. It seems somehow.

Highlights are many and varied. The Caucasus

Highlights are many and varied. The Caucasus Mountains near the town of Kazbegi offer a wonderful opportunity for hiking among beautiful landscapes and 800-year-old monasteries. The plains of Kakheti are perfect for trying the unique Georgian wine. The capital Tbilisi is famed for browsing the markets full of kitsch ex-Soviet tat that will make you the talk of the indie community on your arrival home.

Photography: Natalia Popova Models: Aafreen Alam, Lottie Lakan, With thanks to Josh and Chester the snake

Beauty: it’s in the eye of the beholder. It can be found everywhere, but can it be quantified? Does it merely refer to flawless, symmetrically-arranged, youthful facial features? Does it just hinge on the luck of the gene-pool draw? Or, as we are led to believe, do we just have to purchase the right lotions and potions, apply them, cross our fingers and wait for the magic to happen?

I suppose to a certain extent all of the above are true, but it is more than that - after all we are ob-

sessed with it. This obsession is not a modern thing either, although we are often informed to the contrary. Since the dawn of time beauty has provoked wars, inspired our most revered artists, and generally caused people to abandon all reason and logic.

But this motivator of madness is not the plastic android aesthetic constantly shoved in our faces. In fact, quite often the things that make a person beautiful are the individual differences. Those quirky variations which you yourself might hate, are exactly what others

It’s just not fair. The outer-body gets all the fun, all the attention. It’s slathered in nourishing oils, smothered in crèmes and massaged with an array of hotly touted creations straight out of the L’Oreal lab. It’s time we gave our poor neglected insides a chance to shine.

When you wake up each morning, drink some hot water mixed with lemon. This revitalises your liver and prepares you for the stressful day of lectures (or lecture in some cases) ahead. Another fabulously invigorating bevvy is green tea, which, being high in antioxidants, helps prevent skin from looking tired and can counteract signs of ageing. I can’t say I’ve seen any contemporaries with

Enough of all this natural beauty talk - let's get to the good stuff: the slap. Here’s the hottest spring/summer trends:

Bright Bright Bright

Basically the brighter the better so get your paint box out! The catwalks are awash with acid shades: nail varnish, eye-shadow and lipstick. Don’t be afraid to mix and match. Barry M and GOSH (Superdrug’s own brand) do a fantastic selection from gorgeous grassy greens to fantastic fushias and corals. So experiment with contrasting and even clashing colours. If you are worried you might end up

crows-feet and forehead wrinkles, but the sooner you start fighting the wrinkles, the longer you will be bounding around with peachy skin as smooth as Justin Timberlake's dance moves.

Blueberries, perhaps the ultimate super food, also have high levels of antioxidants, and are touted to counteract the signs of ageing. Nuts are helpful too, as they contain zinc, which maintains collagen levels and will keep skin supple and elastic. And for skin that even a baby would be proud of, try to include oily fish in your diet. Salmon which contains essential fatty acids that decrease the appearance of clogged pores and gives you younger, plumper-looking skin.

will love about you. Beauty is not merely skin deep; it shines from within. People who I consider to be among the most beautiful I know don’t just look like models with nicely proportioned faces. It’s about the person behind that; their laugh, wit, joie de vivre, whatever it is. It’s magnetic and oh so alluring. So hey, its spring; the perfect time to just stop, and spend some time considering what beauty is to you, why it’s great and how boring life would be with out it.

Our crowning glory needs attention too, so to keep your barnet in tiptop condition, make like a rabbit and gnaw on a bunch of carrots. Containing bucket-loads of Vitamin A, they keep your scalp nourished and hair shinier than a magpie's store cupboard. Also load up on foods containing essential fatty acids like avocados, olive oil and nuts. These offer nourishment to your hair and nails and are perhaps the only type of fats that health bods won’t feel guilty about consuming. So gorge away on all the fruit and veg you can get your hands on andyou’ll achieve that magical glow from within.

looking like Ronald MacDonald, start with shimmers first - they are easier to use than block, and much easier to blend.

Lipstick

It's back! With Eighties being the ‘in’ decade, it's time to rediscover the old classic. Not only is it another easy way of injecting colour and also hugely speeds up the getting ready process, you'd be ready in a jiffy with just a slick of mascara and a dab of lippy! You can get some which contain lip conditioner and SPF, meaning as well as looking fabulous, you are doing them the world of good, so pucker up!

Big Luscious Lashes

Whether lengthy and separated or thick and black like the Twig-meister they are set to feature in a big way this season. You can invest in some falsies. Be careful when attaching them as they are fiddly, but your peepers will be noticed by all and sundry! If that doesn’t appeal to you then simply layer on the mascara. The new Maxfactor False Lash Effect Mascara is gives a dramatic effect, causing quite a flutter!

Blind Date

Blind Date: live on Xpress. Take three boys, one extremely lucky girl, a bunch of pressing questions and a whole load of sexual tension, then sit back and watch the sparks fly!

Initially everyone was slightly nervous, but eventually they settled into the set-up and had plenty of giggles along the way! Yet, as the show got further underway and the girl selected her favourite, the nailbiting prospect arose (as always) that the final couple wouldn't get on. So what was the outcome of this particular attempt at frivolous coupling? Read on to find out!

Lucy Roberts is a third-year undergraduate from North Wales, studying Law at Cardiff.

How would you describe yourself in three words?

Sociable, confident and happy. What do you do in your spare time?

I enjoy kitesurfing and keeping fit so I go to the gym, go swimming and go running. I am also a big fan of cake and love dancing with my friends on a night out.

Describe your ideal date? It would be to go out for a nice meal with someone I can have a good time with.

Describe your ideal man. Mike Philips, because I normally go for tall, dark and handsome men. I

like someone who can make me laugh.

Right then, we'll see what we can do!

Contestant 1 Contestant 2 Contestant 3

Chris Keeling is a third-year Law student from London.

How would you describe yourself in three words?

I'm fun, outgoing and independent. What do you do in your spare time? I play rugby and enjoy cycling. I am currently training to cycle across France next summer for charity. What is your ideal date? I don't think it matters where you go as long as both people have a good time. Why should Lucy choose you? I'll make sure she has a good time. And I make a good breakfast in bed.

Mike Ward is a firstyear PhD student reading Sociology. He is from Mountain Ash.

How would you describe yourself in three words?

Fun, interesting and supportive. What do you do in your spare time?

Ben Cajee is a third-year Journalism and Cultural Criticism student from Devon.

How would you describe yourself in three words?

I enjoy surfing, darts, doing pub quizzes, drinking and dancing. Describe your ideal date? It would be a small and intimate indie/rock gig. Why should Lucy choose you? I'm funny, so she will have a laugh, and I have nice eyes.

I'm confident, sociable and fun. Who would be your ideal woman? It would have to be someone interesting and good-looking, like Jennifer Aniston or Eva Mendez. What is your ideal date? It would be really nice food and cocktails on a beach in Mauritius right next to the ocean. Why should Lucy choose you? I'm easy to get on with so we'd have a really good time. The lucky lady

the results...

Blind Date: So, you chose Ben! What made you pick him?

Lucy: His answers made me laugh the most so I knew we would have a good time on the date.

Let's get down to the nitty gritty... how do you rate Ben out of 10?

I think it'll have to be an 8.

What were your first impressions when Ben was revealed?

Thank God he's not an absolute minger! He looked well-presented and fresh-faced.

Were there any highlights of the date?

I think the highlight was that we got on really well and he was easy to talk to.

Were there any shocking moments?

Not really shocking, but he did tell me that when he was little he loved Michaela Strachan and would kiss the TV if she was on it.

How do you describe Ben in three words?

Friendly, handsome and funny.

Do you think you'll keep in touch?

Yeah, we swapped numbers. I'm not sure whether we'll meet up, but it would be nice to bump into each other in a club.

Chuck, fuck or marry?

He was lovely, so marry.

How did you feel when you found out you had won?

Ben: Very surprised.

So, let's get down to the nitty gritty. What would you rate Lucy out of 10?

I'd give her an 8.

What were your first impressions of Lucy? She seemed really friendly and confident and was good-looking too.

Were there any highlights on the date?

Just the fact that we got on really well and it wasn't awkward at all. There was plenty of banter, which I liked.

Were there any shocking moments?

Nothing shocking really, we had a great time. How would you describe Lucy in three words?

Confident, funny and friendly.

Will you keep in touch?

Yes, I hope so.

So which would you rather: chuck, fuck or marry?

I think it will have to be fuck.

Lucy and Ben enjoyed their meal courtesy of Fat Cats bar and resturant. For bookings call 02920 228378.

All bedrooms include your own private en-suite bathroom

Available in 3,4 & 5 bedroom flats with a television & Sky package included in each flat and broadband available in every bedroom

welcome to your

Victoria Hall, Blackweir Terrace, Cardiff, CF10 3EY

Books giving you perfect posture

Monkey, John Gimblett (Cinnamon Press)

John Gimblett's Monkey is a collection of poetry written after the author went travelling in India. Although a man evidently with a talent for writing, Gimblett’s poems ultimately left me cold.

The imagery is fantastic, and

the poems, generally no more than two pages long, offer a fascinating snapshot of life away from the tourist trail. However, almost the entire collection (but for one poem, in fact), is written in free verse: there is no discernible metre, rhyme or rhythm – call me a philistine, but this is what

makes a poem really stand out for me. It would often read just as well in prose form – or better, even, as there would be no confusing and seemingly illogical line breaks, or pretentiously ‘shaped’ stanzas.

The stanzas themselves often end randomly, mid-sentence, sentiment or theme, as though a hyperactive five-year-old had been let loose on the ‘enter’ key, which makes reading them infuriating, as I spent so much time wondering why a word had an entire line to itself, or was tabbed over to the right-hand side of the page.

Stanzas

end

randomly, as if a five year old had been let loose on the 'enter' key “ “

The problem is that I really want to like these poems, but there are only three out of nearly 40 (‘From a Train Door, Jammu Mail’, ‘Small Gods’, and ‘Repetition, Repetition’) that I can actually remember well enough to want to read again.

My point is this: if rhyme and rhythm spell the epitome of distaste to you, then you’ll probably love this. It is eloquent, sensual, highly transportive writing, but for me, it lacks the spark needed to make truly emotive and memorable poetry.

Rebecca Dubock

Iwant to write a good review of this book. I do. But not because I have any liking for the book but because the publisher, Honno Women's Press, deserves a lot of respect. But I am a terrible liar. There's just something quite dislikable about this book.

the era of Ian McEwan and the like. So it completely lacks originality. Originality isn’t its main problem though (few writers can be original anyway). The problem is its tone. The dark atmosphere of this novel, if you’re ever convinced it's there, is really more the colour of chalk. The lightness and triviality of the

Sweets from Morocco is overprocessed, hollow and sedated “ “

Verity is apparently part of the Cardiff Writer’s Circle. A friend once involved in this tells me that they are a bunch of middle-aged, middle-class wannabes who write rubbish, usually set on beaches, with some sort of secret. Sweets from Morocco is a fine example of everything wrong with writing.

Lets start with the plotline. Two siblings, Tessa and Lewis, are bothered by the arrival of a new baby in their family and decide to do something about that. Right, I’m pretty sure this is the plotline of just about every novel written in

London Belongs to Me, Norman Collins (Penguin)

Love and hate; crime and vice; life and death; work and sloth. It is known that all these things exist in their extreme forms within any sprawling mass. For we are humans and with all our selfdeprecating might, whether it be encompassed within the cultural or scientific worlds, we also succeed in creating our very own festering black spots.

It is a rare occurrence, then, that any author is able to portray the collective nature of a city such as London in a selection of flawlessly depicted individuals, each with their own story to tell and their associated flaws to suit.

This, however, is exactly what Norman Collins has managed to achieve – all played out against the bustling backdrop of The Big Smoke, on the verge of war.

Be warned: the preface is explicit in the content of the novel, which may have something to do with the character of its author, who has

writing undermines any real attempts at creating depth. You know the storyline is complete fiction. You suspect that the author’s life is really quite twee, and could only be considered dark by equally twee people. I am of the opinion that real depth in writing comes from something raw within. Sweets From Morocco is overprocessed, hollow and sedated.

Honno publish lots of good work though. Buy some of their other books. Aisling Tempany

also written a highly recommended book, The London Compendium, mish-mashing the history of London with its secretive and humorous stories.

Initially introduced to our fussyhaired pensioner to be, Mr. Josser, London Belongs To Me tells the story of life through the eyes of working-class posse and the relationships that are formed in one of the world's most dynamic environments, with various holes unbarred. It accomplishes a surprisingly contemporary feel despite the constant reminder that it's 1938.

Ideally this is a novel to be read pre-Christmas, when the weather's cold and you fancy a giggle, combined with the exciting goings-on in and around a strange part of London’s ever-bulging history. Tom Coyle

HEALTHY VOLUNTEERS WANTED

Healthy volunteers are needed to complete a short online questionnaire looking at levels of a personality trait called schizotypy. The questionnaire takes just a few minutes to complete.

If you are aged between 18-45 years, and have no history of psychiatric problems or depression, we’d like to hear from you!

Please follow the link below which will take you directly to website with the questionnaire.

http://www.medicine.manchester.ac.uk/spq

PLUS YOUR CHANCE TO WIN £100!

Everyone visiting the website has the chance to enter a FREE PRIZE DRAW to win £100*

*Terms and conditions apply. Please see website for full details.

DIGITAL HOT

or NOT?

HOT: Roombas

Since the Jetsons' cleaner robot Rosie, I've dreamed of having a cyborg butler of my very own - a machine that could tidy up and greet me with a pipe and slippers at the end of a hard day designing flying cars. The Roomba may not be this advanced, but a robotic hoover that navigates its way around your house while you put your feet up sounds pretty sweet to me. Even if it is the first step in the inevitable robot enslavement of humanity. TB

HOT: Sony Cybershot cameras

NOT: iPods

Yeah, I know everyone seems to have an Ipod. General consensus is ‘they’re great’ - puh-lease! If I want sub-par sound quality and retarded control system, sure. Also, don’t give me that crap about how iTunes is amazing and user-friendly. Good luck backing up those 10gbs of musicthe inherent problems with copy protection will make it very hard for you to recover your collection should the worst happen to your PC/Mac.

LC

NOT: WiiFit

The cameras of the gods. If you’ve ever desired to take pictures of everything you own for either a) insurance policies or b) your reflection in a mirror with the best ‘not bothered’ face you can screw together - well, I’ve got the camera for you. Stylish, reliable and awesome. Just like my emo fringe. CM

HOT: iPhones

Despite the gripes I have about iPods, i-Phones are quite possibly the coolest thing on the market from Apple. The recent generation upgraded the memory, the camera and the touch screen, making it as user-friendly and efficient as possible. Criticising it for being too simple seems like a self-defeating argument - it IS simple, and that's the beauty of it. Gone are the ubiquitous buttons of the Blackberry; long live the sleek mono-screened wonder that is the iPhone.

Fun. Real fun. But I’m getting a little sick of the 50 extra things you have to buy for your Wii to get the full experience of it. If it escalates any further Nintendo’s probably just going to make you pay to hear the next idea - which will, of course, be some large, probably white item that you plug into your Wii. I’m a little worried about people doing all this stuff indoors with not so much effort. When was the last time you saw something green? As if you don't look weird enough already, swatting your friends with plastic white bricks. NOW they want you to pretend to ski and do headstands.

CM

NOT: ipod FM radio transmitter. These are a great idea. iPod songs in the car; you get to choose what you want. Brilliant. You can even load up erotic audiobooks: read in the most seductive accents, it sounds like honey sliding down a draining board. Brilliant. However, the last five I’ve owned have broken in about two months. Perhaps it serves me right for trusting the ‘Factor3’ that sold it to me over eBay.

CM

The most obvious problem with Celebrity Sports Showdown is the celebrities. I’ve never heard of half of these people, and the other half just don’t look like who they’re supposed to.

such as Avril Lavigne and Sugar Ray Leonard? Or maybe a literary version? You know, Jane Austen versus Charles Dickens in a volleyball showdown? That’d be a game. It isn’t just celebrities, though. There is also a choice of ‘Wannabes’. I went with ‘Wannabe Ashley’, a pseudo-rocker with blue hair and tight trousers. You have to play lots to unlock better wannabes, but I didn’t think it would be worth the effort.

My main issue with the game, though, is that it is targeted purely at its American audience. Surely Jodie Marsh, the ugly one from Girls Aloud and Jamie Oliver could replace the American/Canadian 'celebrities'

FIFA Manager 2009 PC

£29.00

The football management gaming genre has been largely dominated over the last 10 years by the Championship Manager and more recently the Football Manager franchises that have become the benchmark for other perspective challengers to aspire to.

FIFA Manager 09 is EA Sports’

the most obvious problem with Celebrity Sports Showdown is

the celebrities “ “

Celebrities aside, there's really nothing remarkable about this game. The badminton, after all, is just a more graphically-competent version of Wii Sports Tennis. It's all 'style' over anything remotely resembling 'substance'. And the style isn't up to

attempt to narrow the gap on the market leaders as it tries to appeal to gamers who've grown tired of the repetitive format of its rivals. With the same style of skins and graphics one comes to expect from an EA Sports creation, the game immediately looks and sounds different.

I could refer to the game in the 'organisation skills' section on my C.V. “ “

FIFA Manager is more basic, and simpler to get to grips with when dealing with the playing side of the game. The matchday simulation is far inferior to its rivals, despite the ability to interactively control your team on the conventional football simulation model. Sadly, this mode appears to borrow the graphics from FIFA 99 on the original PlayStation

much either, as most of the writing and info on the games was illegible on my Wii. Some of the other games just didn’t make any sense. Why are the celebrities flying planes through rings? Is that an Olympic sport I’ve missed? Volleyball is just awkward to work, as is dodgeball, which, again, I didn’t realise was a sport (just me?). The only game that stands out for me is the horseracing, but that’s probably because its easier to control and easier to win. It only seems to have three tracks though, so after a few plays it's time for something else.

The games can be played individually, at random or as part of a tournament. The tournaments are somewhat more interesting, but since the games are chosen at random and everything except horseracing is difficult to play, it doesn’t hold interest for very long.

Overall, this game is worth giving a miss. Anything it does is done better in other games available on the market.

Aisling Tempany

rather than what we would find in current PES on the PC.

What I really liked about the game, though, was the capacity to control every aspect of the club. From building club shops in obscure countries to installing new seats in the dugout, the level of interference over the affairs of the club was endless, and after playing I felt like I could refer to the game in the 'organisation skills' section on my C.V. In an odd move, the game also appears to pay tribute to The Sims as it allows you to build a family through romancing a virtual partner, investing your hard-earned cash on property, and learning to play golf or speak a language.

Despite my several years of experience as a frustrated Sir Alex Ferguson wannabe, FIFA Manager was entertaining due to its originality. However, after the novelty wore off it didn't take long to realise that in the football aspect of the experience, it simply doesn't match up to its competitors.

Jack Adams

F.E.A.R. 2

F.E.A.R. 2: Project Origin

Xbox 360, PS3, PC £39

F.E.A.R. 2: Project Origin is not a game for the fainthearted. You definitely shouldn’t let the kids anywhere near this one. Resident Evil is about the only horror game I've played, but this game pretty much puts Resident Evil to bed and reads it a sweet story about fluffy sheep.

F.E.A.R. 2 begins with main character ‘Becket’ having a rather spooky hallucination regarding a rather smashed-up looking city. In the visions he sees the terrifying image of 'Alma', who's on a bit of a vendetta against the world and wishes to force her evilness upon all life. The game really kicks into gear when Becket wakes up in an underground medical facility with his teammates, only to find the staff

murdered by a team of army operatives. Be prepared, because this ride gets pretty jumpy from here on in. This isn’t like Gears of War where cover-hopping is vital, because the slow-motion ability tops anything as passive as hiding (except to recharge your slow-motion ability). Get the angle, go into slow-motion, head-shot, take cover, repeat. You often feel like you’re being a little mean to the poor old bad guys, but this adds flair to almost every takedown.

One of the things I like best about F.E.A.R. 2 is the way the weapons work. They just felt ‘right’ and mesh with the environments to create

clouds of concrete dust from bullets hitting walls, support beams and so on. The combat feels cinematic, with you controlling the action. It’s amazing. Sometimes you want to just sit back and watch what's going on. But you can’t, because you will be hacked to pieces by one of the swarming zombies coming my way. What's more, this game has armored-suits. That's right: freaking robots with giant guns! You basically climb into a giant metal robot suit and pop holes in your attackers with machine guns and rockets. These sequences aren’t tough, but the suits control nicely and you’ll be treated to some impressive displays of destruction and general chaos. This is a fairly short game, and replay value is average. Once you’ve played it for the story and been shocked out of your socks a few times it won’t seem as appealing.

Just remember to bring a fresh pair of pants.

Bhanu Singh

A New

A tale of Greek mythology- Katy Parkes reveals the secrets behind what makes a good stage director, and tells Arts about the new Act One production 'Medusa'...

When I got involved with helping to direct a play it was a swing shot in the dark. I knew nothing about theatre apart from a past performance as Prince Charming in Roald Dahl's Revolting Rhymes, cast because I was the only girl with a boy's crew cut. We had an idea for a devised play based in Greek myth. But I had no idea I would be walking around Cardiff in a toga and ivy in February.

We started with the question, 'Who?'. We tempted people to audition with an array of chocolatebased treats. Out of a red box people pulled out ghost trackers, ear trumpets, a tea cosy and telephone. Once we had a cast, rehearsals were trained to create characters, a never-ending process. Athena took on a Violet Elizabeth Bott maturity while Medusa herself changed her roots to a Spanish background all a week before the show.

After each rehearsal we remembered what we had devised and by Christmas we had the first script. There have been another two drafts and even on the night things may change.

In terms of props we found a large table for free in return for offering it a good home from Val Pearce of 4.08 Psychology. The centre piece of the set is a vast mahog-

any throne with carved lions arms draped in a fake monkey fur. The set is simple, which means there are no blackouts in the play and all the scene changes are done by the characters on stage. We gathered a group of musicians together to create a musical score to bring alive ancient heroes such as the Troyobsessed Odysseus.

To allow for the physical theatre we needed somewhere large. As if sent by God, we were allowed to use the Catholic Chaplancy watched by the life-size photograph of Pope Benedict XVI. The venue itself was in no doubt, the vast stage and classic interior of the Gate Theatre was ideal.

Since September we have been meeting twice a week devising and writing an ensemble piece, creating characters, singing, dancing and making menace. A lot of coffee and welsh cakes have been consumed discussing a schedule, the organisation of people and toga themed publicity.

They say 'directing is merely the art of keeping a large group of people from coughing'. Well I hate it when I have a frog in my throat, and it has been a lot of fun. Medusa is being performed at the Gate Theatre from 26-28th February.

Inspiring

Trevor Nunn

Trevor Nunn is an acknowledged name within the theatre industry. He started his career as the director of the Royal Shakespeare Company, a title which he held for 16 years. He has directed at the famous Old Vic theatre with a modern interpretation of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Trevor Nunn has been at the heart of many musical hits including Cats (1981), and the first English production of Les Miserables (1985). Not only has he achieved success with musical productions, but also directing opera and plays. It is this diversity as a director that has made Trevor Nunn such a successful and wellacclaimed figure within theatre.

Direction...

Directors

Sam Mendes

Perhaps best known for his direction of films such as American Beauty and more recently Revolutionary Road, Mendes’s success began in theatre productions. Mendes worked with the Royal Shakespeare Company and the Royal National Theatre, then went on to become artistic director of the Donmar Warehouse in the West End. He revived many classic plays from the works of Shakespeare to Chekhov and also allowed exciting new directors to come to the forefront. Mendes moved away from theatre after over a decade leading the Donmar Warehouse but remains an inspirational director of his time.

Rachel Yates takes a look at the direction of 'Thoroughly Modern Millie' at the Sherman

Phillip Breen introduces the musical Thoroughly Modern Millie to the Sherman Theatre in Cardiff. Performed by the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama, the play is directed with enthusiasm and drive.

Thoroughly Modern Millie is a challenging piece of theatre with its many songs, scenes and changes of pace. However, Breen manages to overcome this through his rehearsal process and by viewing his role as bringing together fifty-seven twominute pieces; almost like making a film.

Breen brought the musical together through innovative scene changes, at times blended together, as supporting actors performed behind a gauze (a see-through screen) while the leads developed the main plot in front of the curtain. Breen used the space well to counter the difficulties and limitations of performance. He directed the movement of the actors during a busy street scene; to project the impression of many people.

There was an antithesis with the modern style that Breen brought to the production com-

pared to the 1920s setting. The direction re-introduces the play in theatre circles, with its attempt to lift morale in post 9/11 America.

The play successfully used a projection screen, ironically in the style of the intertitles of the silent film era, providing translations of what the actors were saying. This

Breen used the space well to counter the difficulties and limitations of performance “ “

was not only a new and updated dimension to the piece, but also a way to bring humour to the performance.

Although in Breen’s view it was his ‘biggest challenge’, the director managed to overcome the play’s boundaries for a thoroughly enjoyable performance.

GOING OUT?

So, last week saw Cardiff blessed with a couple of days of blue skies and sunshine and, predictably enough, the whole city went fucking crazy…

Shorts were gaily donned, sunglasses were whipped out with impunity, jolly family bike rides were had. I even received invitations to the odd garden barbecue. As hopelessly endearing as this habitual British practice is, I cannot help pointing out that it is only bloody February, and that such overzealous enthusiasm might prove to be somewhat premature on the part of those already dusting off the sun loungers.

Nevertheless, there is still plenty

to celebrate about with this fortnight’s helping of tasty clubbing morsels. On Wednesday 4th the Cassette Quality guys have excelled themselves by securing a set from two of the most prolific downbeat hip hop acts of all time, Aim and The Herbaliser. If the combination of those two doesn’t have you lathering on the tanning oil ready for summer I don’t know what will.

Aperture are bringing darkside stalwarts Black Sun Empire to Glo Bar on Friday 6th, who will be playing a helping of both dubstep and dnb. Once again the big word on everyone’s lips is Bedlam, as they return for their second appearance at the Great Hall on Saturday

COMING SOON...

7th with a line-up longer than your average regional phonebook, but if you don’t fancy shelling out £17 for a ticket then CoolHouse are featuring Dutch techno star Argy at Glo for £6 on the same night.

On Thursday 12th C-Y-N-T bring Doorly, the man behind Ibiza Rocks!, to the Welsh Club. However, on Saturday 14th they will be taking over both floors of Koko Gorillaz for one huge free party featuring about as many different DJs and genres of music as you could hope for in one evening.

Until it really is time to get out the old bucket and spade, i'll be on the dancefloor.

The Going Out Team. x

BEDLAM -Great Hall -

Following the success of Bedlam 2008, 7th March will see another takeover of the Union by some of the UK’s finest DJs.

Andy C is back to tear up the dance floor of the Great Hall once again, but this time he’s backed by a far grimier line-up – in the good sense of the word.

Joining him from his notorious record label RAM will be Chase and Status. The Croydon duo have produced some of the most popular drum & bass anthems of recent years, including Jenna G’s iconic 2006 release In Love. Their 2008 album More Than Alot (yes, I know that ‘a lot’ is two separate words, but these are the bad boys, they do as they please) received rave reviews; if the London record launch was any-

thing to go by, then next Saturday is going to be dirty.

Also playing the main room will be Friction, one of the granddaddies of drum & bass, who’s been spinning records for twenty years now. Originally a rave DJ, he’s seen the progression from hardcore to jungle to drum & bass, something evident from his music.

After the triumph of the drum & bass/dubstep mash up last November (well, I thought it worked, although I’ve probably pissed off some D&B Arena bloggers now), Plastician and Skream are also heading down to Cardiff to show us how it’s done. They’ll be serving up some techy, minimal beats, with a side-order of grime.

Last but not least, One Mission will be showcasing the "deeper side of drum & bass" with Break and the Brookes Brothers in room two. An established producer for years now, Break really came into his own in the

early noughties after joining innovative drum & bass label DNAudio. Relative newcomers the Brookes Brothers received massive airplay with their 2008 release Tear You Down, cementing their reputation as one of the most exciting things to happen to the D&B scene in recent years.

As long as nobody tries to start a fight with me in the smoking queue again ("You got summink to say to me?" "Not really, no") or carry out a full cavity search on the door, this promises to be a fantastic night. Organiser James says that "it's all about the different styles. It's not about being mean and moody and scratching your beard - we just want to have a really good time". Party hats at the ready, people – Bedlam is well and truly on its way!

Kirstin Knight

Bedlam, Great Hall, Saturday 7th March, £17adv.

CLUB LISTINGS

4.3

• Cassette Quality pres. Aim + The Herbaliser (Downbeat/Hip Hop), Glam, 10pm, £7/8

• One Mission social Vs Stamina (Drum n Bass/Dubstep/ Breaks), Glo Bar, 10pm, FREE

5.3

• C-Y-N-T (Electro/House/ Techno), Clwb Ifor Bach, 10:30pm, £3/4

• Antelope (Electro), Glo Bar, 9pm, FREE

6.3

• Aperture pres Black Sun Empire (Drum n Bass/Dubstep/ Darkside), Glo Bar, 10pm, £6/8

• Cassette Quality residents party (Breaks/Electro/Mashup), Undertone, 10pm, £3

7.3

• Bedlam pres. The Big Number 2 (Drum n Bass/Dubstep), Great Hall, 9pm, £17adv

• CoolHouse pres. Argy (House/Techno), Glo Bar, 9pm, £6/8

12.3

• C-Y-N-T pres Doorly (Electro/House/Techno), Clwb Ifor Bach, 10:30pm, £3/4

13.3

• Cassette Quality residents party (Breaks/Electro/Mashup), Undertone, 10pm, £3 14.3

14.3

• C-Y-N-T pres THE BIG CATHAYS FREE PARTY (Electro/ House/Techno/Breaks/Dubstep/ Drum n Bass), Koko Gorillaz,9pm, FREE

• OOOSynthetic (Techno/ Minimal/House), Undertone, 9pm, £4/5

With James Zabiela headlining CYNT’s second brithday party it was never really going to be one to miss, but I think I speak for all when I say the night far exceeded expectations overall.

Don’t let Zabiela’s baby-faced complexion fool you, the 22 yearold Sothampton-ite (who started spinning at the tender age of 15) has a talent and skill far beyond his meagre years. This is made apparent by a look at some of his life's past achievements. From winning the esteemed Muszik Magazine’s ‘Bedroom DJ of the Year’ in 2000, to him getting personally signed by the world famous Sasha, Zabiela has long been hailed one of the brightest young talents around today. What is most remarkable about him, however, is that he actually lives up to the hype.

having just witnessed the carnage that is St Mary’s street on a Saturday night. Despite this, the club's aqua-hued entrance and submerged dancefloor did their job well, transporting you to another world inside.

With all the excitement of a 15 year-old, Zabiela’s pumping beats, cheeky scratches and infectious passion were felt by all who were lucky enough to be there. Proving he is very much no one trick pony, the samples, beats and blips from a variety of influences produced an epic sound that had me dancing continuously for the whole set. To give some idea, you know it’s good when the idea of leaving to get a drink seems ridiculous! Despite beginning to wind down the set the set with my favourite track Runway (much to my dismay!), never once did he] lose interest or seem tired. This clearly rubbed off on the crowd, who were

Zabiela’s pumping beats, cheeky scratches and infectious passion were felt by all. “ “

James Zabiela

THE EVER CHANGING FACE OF CLUBBING IN CARDIFF

Alex Gwilliam takes a look through Cardiff's clubbing history and asks what's in store for the capital's nightlife in future

Last month saw the opening (or should I say re-opening?) of a space that looks set to be a fairly prominent player in the Cardiff nightlife scene, namely Club Seven in Millennium Plaza. Those of us old enough to remember its WKD doused prior incarnations as Bar Risa, or Surfers before that, were doubtless overjoyed to see a club with such potential being put to proper use. However, with the face of Cardiff’s

derwear, is it too much to hope that this one might actually stick around long enough to become a credible regular nightspot?

With so much of Cardiff being made up of a student population that changes, on average, every three years, it is understandable that many current residents will not be entirely up to speed on the city’s clubbing history. Over the past few years the number of venues that have opened/closed/changed hands/

most iconic locations, often replaced by little more than a sofa, a beer tap and a pot to piss in. To give those new to the city some idea of

“ Recent times have seen the disappearance of some of the

going out was the legendary Emporium at the bottom of St Mary Street. Once the veritable cornerstone of the captal’s dance music culture, all that remains of it now are a disused husk and one lone security camera affixed to the wall outside. Another similarly tragic loss was the closure of the Coal Exchange in Cardiff Bay, one of the largest and most awe-inspiring venues the city had to offer. This huge Victorian hall, with its sleek wooden mouldings and high vaulted ceiling, felt more like partying in a regal ballroom than a nightclub. That was, until they went and turned the whole thing into a series of “luxury” onebedroom psuedo-shoeboxes. I doubt anyone who attended CoolHouse’s ‘farewell to the Coal Exchange’ party will let the awesome memory of that night slip from their minds.

On top of these two venues we have Moloko on Mill Lane, where a young High Contrast cut his teeth playing every Thursday for FREE at the weekly d’n’b night Enthusiasm. This has since been any number

which is also showing imminent signs of untimely departure. Then there was Chilli’s on Churchill Way, which was subsequently turned into Pulse. Far from me having any issue with it being made a gay bar, I am saddened that it has now turned its back on any form of genuine music provision. Wish (opposite what is now 10feetTall) has been rendered a strip club. Conti’s, again on Mill Lane, now sports a trendy (yet unmistakably empty) Italian restaurant on its ground floor that would doubtless find it hard to co-exist with the pounding of bass through the ceiling. Move, formerly known as the Red Rooms, appears to have shut down for good, whilst SodaBar and

the multi-room slag palaces of Oceana, Tiger Tiger and Walkabout “ “

around town. However, none of these provide a genuine substitute for a nightclub. Although Glo Bar features regular nights of music, it does not quite cut the proverbial mustard when put to the test of people on the dancefloor. Thankfully, owing to its Welsh Assembly sponsorship and local council protection, Clwb Ifor Bach is not going anywhere soon. Glam, in the wake of the rather remarkable facelift that raised it from the ashes of Q Bar, is going some way to provide a decent supply of nights out, as is the aforementioned Club Seven. What is most exciting, however, is the prospect of the entirely new club Tsavo (crap name, I know) opening its doors later this year. Still shrouded in relative secrecy, the club is set to be a 350 capacity venue carved out of the old bank vault underneath what is currently Zizzi on St Mary Street. Work has been taking place on it for some time now, and rumours about its supposed thirty thousand pound soundsystem have been pricking up

inmusicthisweek

newsinbrief

Heavy Metal in USA

Vice documentary stars Acrassicauda appear to have finally settled in America three years after fleeing their home in Iraq. The documentary, released in 2007, followed the efforts of Iraq's only heavy metal band and the dangers imposed upon them. Now living in New Jersey, the band are free to make as much bloody noise as they like, and sing to their hearts' content about the good lord Satan. But what have this bunch of no-hopers got to offer when there's a new ironic metal documentary in town? I love Anvil for skipping the boring politics and just cutting straight to the face-melting riffs. Long live mediocre metal music!

El festivio!

It's only February but the festival news is coming in thick and fast. Camden Crawl has made its initial announcements with Pulled Apart By Horses, Flashguns and The Joy Formidable leading the way for exciting British music. Elsewhere, Glastonbury have finally confirmed the predictable as Bruce Springsteen gears up to headline this year's event, and Basement Jaxx are the first confirmed headliner for 02 Wireless, with Dizzee Rascal and The Streets. Failing that, there's always Download, which offers you time travel to a place where Limp Bizkit, Whitesnake and Papa Roach still exist. Long live mediocre metal music!

discoverlocal...

This is the first offering from Cardiff based trio, aptly named after chromedomed frontman Spencer McGarry. Each Star Wars-like ‘Episode’ promises to bring a new style and theme to the mix. This first episode, out of a potential six, focuses on Spencer’s more traditional rock influences.

The album is made up of a catchy variety of guitar-driven songs much in the same vein as influences such as Talking Heads and The Kinks. Opening track Oh

Pride of Britain

Brit awards? More like the shit awards, am I right? Yes, the widely disregarded awards ceremony has reared its ugly head once again, bringing with it a celebration of the bands most likely to make huge record companies lots of lovely money. Isn't money great? The big winner of the night was Wales' own Duffy, who picked up Best British Breakthrough Act, Best Female Solo Artist, and Best British Album...wow! She's fantastic, isn't she? The one major triumph of the night was Iron Maiden's welldeserved victory in the category for Best British Live Act. Long live mediocre metal music! Only joking, of course: Iron Maiden forever.

Spencer McGarry Season. Episode 1

Leonard kicks off the album in a playful manner, McGarry’s voice neatly fitting into the gaps left by the post-punk, stop-start guitar work. The album demonstrates this sparkly guitar sound on tracks such as The Heat Was Hot and Leader Of The Chain Gang, each with their own slightly different singalong chorus - McGarry alludes to the fact that this is how he has set about writing the songs and in this instance it works, as each song does enough to demonstrate a slightly different flavour of the

formula. Admittedly, things start to get a little samey towards the end of the album, but it's best listened to in bitesize chunks, not because it's particularly challenging, but because things get a bit repetitive if you don’t.

Whilst the album is unlikely to cause too much of a stir considering the all too trawled paths that it sticks to, there is still much to be seen from McGarry with the promise of five more albums its anyone’s guess as to which genre he will be interpreting next. Toby Rattray

Dananananaykroyd

a bluffer’s guide to...

THE SMELL A BLUFFER'S GUIDE TO

Guy Ferneyhough explores the exciting underground scene in Los

Angeles that revolves around a venue that used to be a Mexican grocery, The Smell

Residing in downtown Los Angeles, The Smell is a music and art venue that has spawned some of the most exciting bands to come out of the US underground in recent years. Famed for its DIY community feel, local bands and regular patrons book shows, and the venue is open to all ages; though this is at the expense of alcohol being served. The Smell is resolutely not-for-profit and run by volunteers, and tickets for events are cheaper than elsewhere, with prices usually less than $5; to maintain the upkeep of the space.

No Age

The club was opened by Jim Smith and two others 11 years ago but only he remains, and to this day he continues to nurture maturing bands, for instance he cut HEALTH their own set of keys so they could their record album in the venue after hours. By day Smith works as a trade union organiser, while managing The Smell unpaid in the evening.

There is nothing musically that unites The Smell’s progeny, aside from a DIY ethic and the venue itself, although with this comes an experimental vein that runs through the noise rock of the likes of No Age and HEALTH, to the punk leanings

The LA noise pop duo of Randy Randall and Dean Spunt AKA No Age have become synonymous with The Smell since they came to the fore in 2007 with their debut, Weirdo Rippers; the band felt so indebted to the venue that they featured it on the album cover. The band went on to sign to the influential independent label Sub Pop, and last year released their second record, Nouns, to great acclaim. The appeal of No Age lies in their ability to take key components of the noise aesthetic and meld them into great pop songs. Their talent hasn’t gone unnoticed this side of the Atlantic, and last Autumn they were one of the three bands to play on the innovative Shred Yr. Face Tour, alongside Cardiff heroes Los Campesinos.

The Mae Shi

Rumoured to have started purely with the intention of playing The Smell and becoming part of the scene, The Mae Shi play an experimental brand of pop-punk. While the band’s last album, Hillyh, was well

received, it is their live performances that have built their reputation up. Antics such as costume changes and the audience being draped in a giant white sheet are commonplace at their shows, and this is combined with songs as catchy as a game of catch. Recently the band have attained new found infamy via a viral video featuring a song about Christian Bale’s much publicised rant, called R U Professional

Abe Vigoda

Abe Vigoda bring tropical stylings and punk together in a fantastic cacophony of lush pop experimentalism. Named after the actor who played Sal in the Godfather, the band are frequently lumped together with East coast contemporaries Vampire Weekend, but unlike the preppy New Yorkers, the band’s Latin heritage mean they cannot be labelled cultural pillagers for their tropical influences. The band’s 2008 album Skeleton showed a great deal of development from previous releases, and of all of the bands from The Smell scene they often touted as the one most likely to break into the big time.

of The Mae Shi and Abe Vigoda.

Dananananaykroyd:

Hey Everybody!

Kyle Ellison catches up with Dananananaykroyd, asking them about playing arenas with the Kaiser Chiefs, 'fight pop' and debut album Hey Everbody!

You've just come back from touring with Kaiser Chiefs, how was that experience? What was the response to your music like?

It was a mind-blowing experience from start to end. From the traveling, all the different countries and languages, to the huge stages and venues and the catering and production values, it's essential for any band to experience a tour of this size at some point. As for the response to our music, well, thousands of hardened, beer guzzling Kaiser Chiefs fans are not going to "get" where we are coming from and we didn't expect them to. It was the small pockets of young, impression able rock fans that we had our eye on.

What can people expect from your debut LP, Hey Everyone?

People can expect our recorded sound to step up a notch or five. It's more frantic than Sissy Hits and it doesn't let up very much. It catches our live sound more successfully too. It's got a perfect balance of old and new songs and I'd like to think that people who really appreciated Sissy Hits will love it.

Is being in Danan ananaykroyd as fun as it seems?

Yes, mostly. This has been our most

demanding month as a band yet, but we still continue to appreciate how exciting and fun playing shows are, and being in each other's company is, and hopefully always will be. That far outweighs all the sitting around, traveling and boring crap you have to put up with while on tour, so

definite elements of pop and melodic tuneage to be heard amidst the aggressive, macho exterior.

What influence, if any, has Glasgow had on your music?

Glasgow might not have any influence on our songwriting or lyrics, but the Glasgow music scene teaches you to not take yourself too seriously, to create music for enjoyment first, and to create your own scene.

What's been your highlight as a band so far?

We've just signed a deal with an awesome label called Hostess in Japan, which means we get to tour there. Apart from that, supporting Blood Brothers and Foals was amazing - Oh yeah, and we met Bill Murray at an airport in Chicago!

Do you have a favourite Dan Aykroyd film?

Trading Places!

What's next for Dananananaykroyd?

We have a few weeks off now and then we're off to SXSW to rock that particular festival to custard. Then we've got our first UK tour of the year, festivals and I would like to think our second LP will be ready to go by the end of the year too.

albums albums albums albums

MICACHU & THE SHAPES

Jewellery

Rough Trade

What do you get when you cross Carol Thatcher with tennis? Uncharted territory. Which is exactly what the curly-haired pixie Mica Levi, aka Michachu, and her merry band of Shapes have managed to do with her debut album Jewellery.

This 21-year-old London lady is not for turning and has succeeded in producing one of the most experimental leftfield pop records, on the back of shedloads of media hype. So I can only tip my hat to the brave people at Rough Trade have who have fervently snapped her up.

Consisting of 12 short snappy avant-folk gems, with Golden Phone a surefire favourite, plus a mammoth 24-minute dénouement, Jewellery manages to create a multi-layered, lyrical and musical journey. Involving vacuums cleaners, STDs and stringed CD racks, originality and eccentricity will be dripping from your speakers.

So I guess you won't be surprised to hear that Björk is a fan.

CRYSTAL STILTS

Alight Of Night

Angular Records

The Brooklyn quintet Crystal Stilts have been associated with many influential musicians from Joy Division to The Velvet Underground. Their sound has been described as garagepop, gothic art-rock and even psychedelic punk, but while this might suggest their sound would appeal to and thrill a range of music fans, Alight of Night does not reach its potential.

THE PRODIGY Invaders Must Die

Take Me To The Hospital

Arguably one of the most eagerly-anticipated electronica albums in recent years, Invaders Must Die is here and it’s taking no prisoners.

The songs don’t differentiate from one another; instead, the album drones through 11 tracks in this lethargic but atmospheric debut. The incomprehensible lyrics and monotone vocals, perhaps a hollow attempt at Ian Curtis-like delivery, accompany the instruments of the foreground as if recorded in another room. Simultaneously, the minimalist instrumentation loops throughout each song showing the focus is on mood not melodic mastery.

Tom Coyle 5

The successful use of ghostly reverb and distortion makes Alight of Night hauntingly sombre and brooding but the album is sluggish, frustrating and ultimately unsatisfying; an anticlimax given the expectations. Natalie Couchman

The two opening tracks, Invaders Must Die and Omen, have been released as singles and it is not hard to understand why, both having impossibly powerful basslines and catchy hooks that The Prodigy are known for. Indeed the latter even gets a reprise later on in the album, which, despite seemingly acting as filler material isn’t that out of place. That said, there isn't a track here that couldn’t do the rounds at any club - even the cheekily upbeat Stand Up could be played as the lights come on and everyone’s ushered home. After countless listens, Run With The Wolves remains a highlight, mostly due to the drum track supplied by the infamous Dave Grohl. It’s fast and complex, and ultimately destroys Pendulum’s efforts to encroach on The Prodigy’s territory.

This is the group’s first studio offering in a while. It’s loud, noisy and will have you on your feet. The Prodigy are back, and in a big way.

Sam Smith

7

Crystal Stilts

albums albums albums albums

THE VIEW

Which Bitch? Renegade

in need of new tunes. Thankfully, this proves to be exactly the album they needed, as they successfully evolve into a new, more mature voice without becoming too far removed from their original sound.

Anyone expecting a retread of debut album Hats off to the Buskers will be surprised, but not disappointed. Kicking off with the first single off the album, 5 Rebeccas caps a resounding return to form, coming across as The Fratellis meets Biffy Clyro. From then on in the only way is up, with One Off Pretender providing a rousing sing-along anthem seemingly tailor-made for the festival crowd, as well as showing a newfound depth to their sound with an almost intentionally haphazard mish-mash of genres being used.

Disappointingly, the quality of the songs isn’t fully sustained until the end, with new single Shock Horror being particularly weak. That being said, the quality of the rest of the album shows that with a new array of tunes at their disposal, The View are truly ready to play with the big boys again. Steve Wright

POLLY SCATTERGOOD

Polly Scattergood

Mute Records

Afusion of synths and aching piano, Scattergood is a hybrid of Kate Bush and Alison Goldfrapp topped off with lyrics á la Kate Nash, and whilst this songstress cocktail has the potential for success, unfortu-

nately as an album it doesn’t quite work. With one too many tracks based on female angst and frustration, it doesn’t make for light listening and there is something a bit try-hard about the debut of the latest Brit Academy’s offspring. It’s not all bad though. A few stand-out tracks include the catchy new single Other Too Endless and her insane screeches almost have an endearing quality to them. She will no doubt have a place in the electropop world of 2009. It probably

won’t come as a surprise to you, however, that most of her tracks were penned on a toy keyboard. Polly Scattergood’s culinary equivalent would without doubt be Marmite. You are either repulsed at the prospect of enduring even a second of her or she just has that something which you’ve been hankering – probably after an episode of Skins when you’re feeling suitably alternative.

Hannah Powell

live live live live live live live

BRAKES

02/02/09

rived to splat a smile on your face. Unlike anything you’ve heard or seen before, you probably wouldn’t

Gindrinker on the path to promoting

merry men take to the stage instantly

the bouncy mob, who continue to ride their imaginary space hoppers throughout All Night Disco Party

A cover of Johnny and June Carter-Cash’s Jackson tops the evening off amicably and people are left distinctly nonchalant as the nation grinds to a halt.

Tom Coyle

the beepy, rave-in-the-microwave synth punk of Fight Like Apes.

After Gallic grungernators

Underground Railroad have intently dragged your weary brain through their own underground railroad of clatter and commotion, you’d be forgiven for saying the last thing you want as a cure for a Carnage hangover is

Indeed, as opener Something Global allows FLA frontwoman MayKay to start tossing lashing upon lashing of her simmering spiel (e.g. ‘hooks are for wimps’/ ‘chorus is for gays’) into a ravenously receptive crowd, you get the double-whammy pang of ignorance and inadequacy that only comes with not feeling affiliated to the evasive cultural movement that’s taking the Barfly hostage. Everyone else is all over it and you don’t understand...but wait!

What is there to understand? All the orgiastic mooging that puts the brawn in FLA’S boogie simply speaks the language of party- in its purest form.

Relax! Hovering on the peripheries of the crowd, you can witness the spectacular camaraderie between band and audience that the chaotic set readily forges, and yet still retain enough rationality to recognise that most of FLA’s songs are shitty mush that a large portion of society wouldn’t give a monkey about.

Matt Wright

live live live live live live live

THIS TOWN NEEDS GUNS Barfly

20/02/09

In contrast to the sparse crowd that gathered last time This Town Needs Guns played in Cardiff, tonight Barfly is bustling in anticipation for a slice of mathy BSM goodness.

Before that however, Zail and Gallops make up a double bill of Welsh support. The former are a powerful post rock two-piece, who play a storming set that captures the attention of early arrivers.

Wrexham’s Gallops are up next, continuing to look like the most exciting thing this side of the border. It’s dificult to take your eyes off the bands wild yet militarily rhythmic drummer, whose inventive beats lock down the bands Battles-esque experimental rock sound.

Finally This Town Need Guns take to the stage, briefly introducing themselves before plunging into a string of songs from recent album Animals. The sheer complexity of their musicianship is astounding, although the band look completely relaxed, even playfull in their performance. Old favortie and triumphant set closer 26 is Dancier than 4 brings a fitting end to the evening; perhaps the bands finest moment to date and a euphoric, climactical finish.

Kyle Ellison

G13/02/09

ood ol’ NME. As much as it’s very funny to attack them for being middle-aged and clinging onto their youth by putting fucking Skins on the front cover, they can’t half assemble a decent tour.

In spite of the massive posters with effing Crystal Castles plastered everywhere, the teenagers putting on their deepest voices to try and get served and the guys too old to be in

the Students’ Union, I’m actually in a half decent mood about this gig. This is mainly due to White Lies being up on stage. Curtis-esque vocals meld with haunting synths and exhilarating choruses, to mesmerising effect. Despite being plagued by a niggling trace of unintentional feedback, their set is near flawless. Headline status surely awaits them.

Next up is everyone’s favourite punk-funksters (behind LCD Soundsystem, !!!, The Rapture, Hot Chip et al) Friendly Fires. While they are undeniably danceable, there’s something quite hollow and meaningless to them. They are admittedly clearly well-accomplished and instrument swapping hasn’t be-

come hackneyed yet, but it’s going to take more than a half-arsed light show to compensate for the sheer mediocrity of their output.

Finally, Glasvegas. By now most of you will have either been driven insane by everybody mentioning the chipper Glaswegians or will have fallen in love with them; tonight really isn’t for the undecideds. Every line is sung back with drunken gusto, feyindie waifs and red-faced beerboys embrace and hurl lukewarm Carling over each other. If it wasn’t entrancing, I’d be disgusted at the cliché, but tonight surely proved Glavegas’s place at the heart of British Culture. Ben Marshall

Sunday 1st

Data Select Party @ Barfly

Monday 2nd

Shred Yr Face Tour @ Clwb Ipso Facto @ Clwb

Tuesday 3rd

Howling Bells @ Bristol Fleece Fei Commodo @ Barfly

Wednesday 4th

Wavves @ Buffalo Kaiser Chiefs @ CIA

Thursday 5th

The Polar Bear Club @ Barly

Saturday 7th

Theoretical Girl @ Clwb Fall Out Boy @ CIA

Lily Allen The Fear EMI

Digitonal Silver Poetry Just Music

Sunday 8th

Snow Patrol @ CIA

Monday 9th

The Answering Machine @ Clwb Ponytail @ Tommy's Bar

Tuesday 10th

X Factor Live @ CIA Elbow @ Colston Hall, Bristol

Friday 13th

Peter Doherty @ SU Robyn Hitchcock @ The Globe Barringtone @ The Louisiana, Bristol

A mournful violin that mews like a cat with a sprained ankle is reined in from melodrama by a fist-clenchingly defiant drum loop. Delicately robust and captivating electronica. MW

Hotly tipped by every man and his dog, this cockney Parisian knows how to make Prince-esque electro pop with minimal bass to suit. Check his Notorious B.I.G. cover - aces! TC

And On Albert Productions

W.Y.S.F.L. Kruger Singles Club

7 5

A catchy but predictable hard rock song which takes more than a smattering of inspiration from AC/DC. Repetitive rock is here to stay. Hurrah! EB

If you like your music simple, fast and ridiculously catchy then you will love Titus Andronicus’ latest offering My Time Outside the Womb. Indie punk as it should be. TM

1

Usually the Kruger Singles Club can spot a tune. Not this time. Sounding like an off-the-wagon Pete Doherty having a fight with a coked-up Belle & Sebastian, this really is atrocious. Avoid. SW

Lily Allen possesses total omniscience, fact, and if anyone doesn’t like it, I'll hear from his or her lawyer after this pop jingle smack in the face with crude language to suit. TC 9 8

Comparisons with Kate Bush aside, this track is pretty excellent in its own right. Scattergood’s voice shows versatility and conveys genuine emotion without sounding melodramatic. SW

7

Tuneful punk reggae stylings set to an acoustic ska backbeat is what’s on offer from this cockney trio. Singer Jonny Fox aims to tell a tale of the disillusionment many feel when it comes to our leaders... TR

film

oscars special

news . rumours . conjecture

AND THE WINNER IS...

Actor in a Leading Role: Sean Penn Milk

Actress in a Leading Role: Kate Winslet The Reader

Best Picture: Slumdog Millionaire

Directing: Danny Boyle Slumdog Millionaire

Actor in a Supporting Role: Heath Ledger The Dark Knight

Actress in a Supporting Role: Penelope Cruz Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Original Screenplay: Dustin Lance Black Milk

Adapted Screenplay: Simon Beaufoy Slumdog Millionaire

Art Direction: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Cinematography: Slumdog Millionaire

Original Score: Slumdog Millionaire

Visual Effects:

The Curious Case of Ben jamin Button

MUMBAI TO HOLLYWOOD

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Slumdog sweeped up at the Oscars this year, claiming 8 of the 10 awards it was nominated for, missing out only to itself for Best Song, and to The Dark Knight for Sound Editing. Among the attendees were some of the film's most valuable assets: it's child-stars from Mumbai. With their friends and family gathered round TV sets at home in India watching the action unfold, Boyle's vision of a nation captivated in the film itself didn't seem too far off. Debate continues to rage in the global media, however, over the film's characterisation of the city of Mumbai and it's perceptions of the slums.

PENN LAYS A SMACKDOWN ON ROURKE

Hot favourite to win Best Actor for his role in Darren Aronofsky directed The Wrestler, Mickey Rourke was pipped to the post by pal Sean Penn, who declared the Academy 'Commie, homoloving sons of guns' on winning. In a very nicely executed speech, Penn also expressed his wish for equal rights, a theme for the film itself, and one that was greeted warmly by the audience and with slight tears from fellow winner, Milk scriptwriter Dustin Lance Black. He ended the speech with a warm tribute to fellow nominee Rourke, who he described as 'my brother'.

push

dir: paul mcguigan cast: chris evans, dakota fanning, djimon hounsou out now, 111 mins

Synopsis: In a world where normal humans are endowed with God-like powers, Nick (Evans) and Cassie (Fanning) are locked in a race against time to protect themselves from those who would seek to destroy them.

If the above synopsis sounds familiar to anyone with a passing interest in the likes of X-Men or Heroes, then it should. However, anyone expecting a story to rival either of the two will sorely disappointed, as Push only succeeds at being an almost shameless rip-off of everything it seemingly aspires to be.

The plot is virtually incomprehensible; a heavily-contrived government conspiracy that is never fully justified let alone explained, with no reason given as to what is at stake and why we should care.

miserably. When the best idea they can come up with for a fight scene involves telekinetically levitated guns that look so bad they might as well have shown the marionettes waving at the camera, you know there is something wrong. Message to aspiring directors: when making a movie with no semblance of a plot, for God’s sake make the action scenes at least passably decent.

Of all the cast, only Evans and Fanning rise above the mire, with the former providing the few comic highlights (and believe me they are few and far between), and the latter producing a performance of staggering maturity given her age and the uninspired script. The usually excellent Hounsou gives an uncharacteristically subdued performance here, looking a long way from his roles in the likes of Gladiator and Blood Diamond, whilst Camilla Belle fails to impress in her first leading role since the execrable 10,000 BC

With the likes of Watchmen and X-Men Origins: Wolverine up for release in the coming weeks, there is really no reason you would want to see a film that is at best an uninspired pastiche of the genre. In trying to look cleverer than it is, it ends up being a confusing and pathetic imitation of other, muchsuperior movies.

In much the same way as other serial crap-fests like Jumper, the film attempts to go for the worryingly maxim of style over substance, and even in doing this it fails *

Steve Wright

che: part 2

dir: steven soderbergh cast: benicio del toro, franka potente, rodrigo santoro out now, 122 mins

Synopsis: Benicio Del Toro reprises his role as the renowned revolutionary in the second half of his project with Steven Soderbergh, which follows Guevara attempting to liberate Bolivia, and ultimately his death.

While Che: Part 1 depicted the most celebrated moments of Guevara's life, the second half focuses on another altogether more frustrating revolution attempt he led later in his life. The parallels it draws with the first film are stark, and while it may be better to watch both parts back to back, the time elapsed by watching the two halves separately allows one to really appreciate the contrasts between these two revolutionary struggles.

You may have already gathered that Che: Part 2 is a film wrapped up in accurately portraying history, or at least the version portrayed in Guevara's diary, and this is no bad thing. Soderbergh paints a sombre portrait of a man facing his demise,

and it is made all the more compelling by the fact that you know he's going to die.

As interesting as the historical aspects of the film are, it would be a bore without the acting tour de force delivered by Benicio Del Toro. His closeness to the project and obsession with the role are demonstrated through the meticulous detail of his characterisation of Che. Perhaps Del Toro's finest moment is towards the end of Che's life, when he reduces the once self-assured revolutionary to little more than a hunted creature; the vulnerability etched on his face is harrowing.

While at times the pace is slow, Soderbergh's direction is never dull as he captures the mundane day to day existence of life in a revolutionary camp, and beautifully captures the lush mountainous Bolivian landscape. There is a lot to admire in the second part of Che, but it's harder to love than it's predecessor due to it's more sombre tone. If for nothing else, then Che: Part 2 should be remembered for a career-defining performance from Del Toro, and as a startlingly honest portrayal of a man whose achievements in life will always be overshadowed and exaggerated by that one iconic image that hangs on the wall of so many teenage bedrooms. Guy Ferneyhough

anvil! the story of anvil

dir: sacha gervasi cast: kevin goocher, robb reiner, glenn gyorffy out now, 90 mins

Synopsis: After failing to make the big time after being hailed as "demigods of Canadian metal", Anvil's aged rockers are still as hungry for fame and fortune as ever.

As an uninitiated metal head, I am somewhat predictably familiar with most of the big 80s metal bands and, perhaps more unsurprisingly, assumed I had the basics pretty much figured out. Imagine my surprise then when presented with Anvil, sharing the stage in Japan with some of the biggest names in the business, in front of thousands of adoring fans.

Over twenty years and twelve albums later and Anvil may be greyer and fatter, but they still know how to rock, and boy do they ever rock. As the band embark on a bewildering month long European tour, they run into many of their peers, all of whom have enjoyed considerably longer staying power in the busi-

ness, and for who the glory days are more than a faded memory. Whilst comparisons will inevitably be drawn to Spinal Tap, the two films do have a startling amount in common (Anvil’s stick man Robb Reiner being a near perfect namesake to Tap’s director by a distance the most ironically coincidental). The joy of Anvil, however, is that although this is very much reality, it’s constant bordering on absurdity will have you thinking maybe the joke is on the audience after all.

Although at times the humour is uncompromisingly bleak, the director handles his cast with a fond sincerity, providing an honesty that simply would not translate in a more satirical context. It is this frankness which sets Anvil apart as a unique piece of documentary cinema, although by definition the film has notably more in common with Berlinger and Sinofsky’s uncompromising rock doc opus Metallica: Some Kind of Monster.

With so much depth and complexity though, this is not your average rockumentary, but more a startlingly honest portrait of camaraderie that has survived immeasurable adversity, never yielding in the pursuit of the rock'n'roll dream.

Adam Woodward

nextgeneration

With Lost creator J. J. Abrams at the helm, the thirteenth big screen Star Trek outing looks set to rejuvinate the franchise.

Emma Davies to get a sneek peek at this year's most anticipated blockbuster...

Star Trek is arguably far more than a franchise –it’s something more akin to a global phenomenon. It’s massive, multi-billion dollars’ worth of massive: six television series, 10 movies, a theme park ride and a veritable ton of books, video games and fanfiction. Oh, and don’t forget the Trekkies –the thousands upon thousands of aficionados the world over taking fandom just those few giant leaps further than most.

Given that Star Trek equals big bucks, it’s little surprise that the new film, scheduled by Paramount for a May 8 release, is big-budget and cloaked in secrecy. Directed by Lost creator J. J. Abrams and featuring an all-star cast including Smokin’ Aces’ Chris Pine and Heroes’ Zachary Quinto, it’s pretty fair to say that it looks to be one of 2009’s most eagerly anticipated films.

Star Trek deals with the story’s beginnings, starting with Kirk’s invitation to join Starfleet and his troubled beginnings within the organisation – cue conflict galore, naturally. Getting into a bar fight with a gang of officers might not be the most auspicious entry route to the Fleet. But when the Vulcan planet is attacked, it’s Kirk – smuggled onboard the Enterprise under cover of illness – who realises what’s going on and finally gets the chance to realise his full potential. Suffice to say it’ll be dramatic.

Given the buzz surrounding Star Trek’s release, it’s ironic that Abrams originally only wanted to

produce the movie – he only decided to take on the role of director after reading the script and realising that he would have been jealous if someone else had directed it. Claiming that he was never a huge fan of the series as a child, Abrams says that his goal when directing the film was to create a film which felt real and legitimate, despite the trappings which non-fans might find silly or off-putting.

To balance Abrams’ relative lack of knowledge of the canon, writers (and dedicated fans) Roberto Orci

if the film lives up to its hype, the sci-fi franchise looks set to prosper “ “

and Alex Kurtzman were brought on board. After all, who’d want to piss off a Trekkie? They might be able to insult your mother in Klingon or something, and heaven knows that wouldn’t be a pleasant experience. Though there will obviously be some changes to the classic Star Trek traditions, many fans are welcoming the idea of some new life being breathed into the franchise. When something’s been going for 40-odd years, who’s to say that it doesn’t need a bit of a shake-up every now and then? After all, look at what The Dark Knight did for the

Batman imprint.

From the 20 minutes or so of damn-nigh completed footage that have been released so far, it that there are the expected special effects at the requisitely epic level. These dramatic scenes, though, are often undercut with a wry, almost self-deprecating sense of humour which prevents the film from taking itself too seriously. While this might allow the film to reach out to a wider audience than before, there fully still plenty in this prequel for the existing fans.

In a further twist, Leonard Nimoy reprises his role as Spock in one scene. Yes, he this is skilfully incorporated through a nifty plot manoeuvre involving time travel. Other surprise castings include Winona Ryder as Spock

Pegg as Scotty – an experience he describes as “pantwettingly exciting” for a selfconfessed geek like himself. Pegg has also described working with Nimoy as “acting alongside a character” rather than a fellow actor.

As the eleventh film in the series, this prequel carries a fairly hefty weight of expectation behind it. If the film lives up to its hype, though – as it seems it well may – the sci-fi franchise looks set to live long and prosper.

NO

PATRICK STEWART TO BOLDLY
GO WHERE THESPIAN HAS
GONE BEFORE

Patrick Stewart is certainly not a silver screen icon, only at a push is he a screen icon, however, he is undoubtedly and irrevocably an icon; if you disagree with this you’ve got a thousand limited edition lunch box carrying sci-fi nerds to deal with. Everything about the man exudes gravitas and authority. From his benevolent eyes- which have the ability to make you feel like you’re wrapped in a warm blanket in your mothers arms, to his smooth bald head, which would make any man long to be hairless.

Oh and there’s one other thing: the voice, oh the voice. Listening to the man speak is like having

icons screen

warm chocolate poured all over your body, a voice so deep that you need a top of the range sub woofer to genuinely appreciate the full extent of its power. Famously cutting his acting chops by treading the boards, Patrick Stewart is first and foremost a Thespian; one of Britain’s leading Shakespearean actors. His raison d’etre being to stand in front of a packed theatre and orate Hamlets ‘To be or not to be’ or put shivers on the back of every member of the audience with Henry V’s pre-Agincourt address.

As such it was a difficult decision for Patrick Stewart to make to accept the role for which he remains known best, as Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise. Stewart, however, grabbed the role by the horns and brought complete class to the enterprise, providing the captain with exactly the right amount of authority and command that the character demanded. In the first two seasons especially, Stewart simply out acts almost every other member of the cast- it bared resemblance to casting Laurence Olivier in a school production of A Midsummer Nights Dream. In time the remainder of the cast found their feet and we were provided with a truly wonder ful show, with a solid ensemble cast.

A common misconcep tion is that Stewart dismisses his days as Picard off hand, and sees Star Trek as a folly, this however is not the case. To quote the man himself, “The fact is, all of those years in the Royal Shakespeareplaying all those kings, emperors, princes and tragic

heroes- were nothing but preparation for sitting in the captain’s chair of the enterprise”. Stewart has a way of relating everything back to its relevance to Shakespeare, and perhaps above everything else is pleased that his hugely successful role in Star Trek has brought more interest in the bard, and put bums on seats of his theatre performances.

Apart from Star Trek: TNG and the spin off films what does his silver screen CV amount to? In the X Men films Stewart bring his usual and indubitable class to the role, but it is difficult to escape the fact that the character is essentially a more benevolent version of Jean-Luc Picard- with telekinetic powers. His appearance on Extras, on the other hand, is a brilliantly funny take off of the man and the myth. In my mind Patrick Stewart has done a remarkable thing; he’s been able to transcend the character of Jean-Luc Picard, and become known in the popular psyche, first and foremost, as a Shakespearean actor. It is for this that he will be remembered; his memory will live long and prosper.

For some actors/actresses, the demand on their selves to portray a different human being is obviously a tremendous demand; hence their decision to play no-one but themselves. Here, I take a look at those who imbue their characters with their own personality to such an extent that they could genuinely be sued under the trade descriptions act.

SAMUEL L. JACKSON

The BMF’s performance in Pulp Fiction was simply awesome. Trouble is, to this day virtually every one of his roles since have been little more than a shallow caricature of his world-wise, platitude spouting character Jules. At times this persona has often descended into self-parody, as seen in the so-badyet-so-good Snakes on a Plane Despite some questionable career choices, there have been many career highlights, particularly as samurai Jedi Master Mace Windu in the Star Wars prequels, where, upon arrival, he rescues the previously drab Attack of the Clones with the words ‘‘This party’s over.’’ He then proceeds to decapitate Jango Fett. Badass Motherfucker indeed.

KEANU REEVES

An enigma. A mystery. Seriously, who/what the hell is Keanu Reeves? I’m not even sure he’s human. Was the real Keanu abducted by aliens after Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, and replaced by a doppelganger from the planet Wooden as part of some twisted experiment to see how long it would take before we’d notice that a well-known celebrity was actually a walking talking cadaver? His roles have deviated from brooding and emotionless (The Matrix), brooding and emotionless (Constantine), brooding and emotionless (The Lake House) to just plain emotionless (The Day the World Stood Still). In fact, while I’m on the latter, I’m genuinely worried the film may well be a leaked VR simulation regarding Keanu’s next mission. God help us all.

JUDI DENCH

Quite possibly the scariest actress in history, Dame Judi had managed this by rarely, if ever, deviating from her role as the permanently angry, firm-but-fair female authority figure. Building on from her roles in the likes of Chocolat and Pride & Prejudice, Dench has perfected her mob-halting scowl more recently in her role as M in the James Bond films, proving that whatever a man could do, she would reinvent in her own image. With lines like ‘‘God, I miss the Cold War’’ and ‘‘Utter one more syllable and I’ll have you killed’’, it’s hard not to admire her. Even if she does remind you of your mum, Judge Judy, Margaret Thatcher, and every scary female boss or teacher rolled into one.

HUGH GRANT

No list of typecast actors can be complete without this guy, who represents every American’s perspective of the quintessential Englishman, ie. incredibly posh, stammering, slightly effeminate, foppish and with ever so good manners. Rather than getting our own back by portraying all Americans as overweight, racist, homophobic, guntoting, god-fearing wastes of space (ah, don’t ya just love irony), we have instead decided to milk Grant’s ‘talents’ down to the bone, enabling him to play exactly the same person in the likes of Four Weddings and a Funeral, About a Boy, Notting Hill and Love Actually, whilst occasionally deviating slightly with a touch of antagonism in the likes of American Dreamz and Bridget Jones’ Diary Mr Grant, we salute you.

SETH ROGEN

Need a loveable, substance-guzzling stoner/slacker/ serial underachiever?

Look no further from this guy. From his adolescent days in Freaks and Geeks, to his modern day roles in the likes of 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, Superbad and Pineapple Express, Rogen sticks rigidly to the formula that whilst unadventurous, has made him a star with his fuzzy-haired charm and brilliant comic timing. Only he could make a kung-fu master look and sound like a bumbling drug addict (Kung Fu Panda), and for this feat alone he deserves applause, if not an Oscar.

Words - Steve Wright

Images - Benjamin Phillips