Q U E N C H QUENCH.GAIRRHYDD.COM > VOL 4.44 > OCT 30 2006
We give you
D IA N G UA R N T E D U T S Z IN E A G MA E T OF H YEAR
THE HORRORS PLUS: THE FRATELLIS, MACCABEES AND DYKEENIES HAVE A RIOT IN THE GREAT HALL NEW SECTION ON THE BLOCK THE BLURB WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE INTERVIEWS > FILM > GOING OUT > FEATURES > FASHION > GAY > BOOKS AND MUCH MORE
Quench
CONTENTS Best Student Publication 2005
Best Student Magazine 2005
features 12 TRAVEL Oman, it’s good
46 DIGITAL Feed your fetish
52 AMBER Why do birds...
F ilm gets dead homoerotic for halloween Page 39
regulars 04 THE BLURB
NEW SECTION
Serving up truth on a plectrum
27 MUSIC It’s terrifying
08 INTERVIEWS
36 ARTS
14 FASHION
38 FILM
16 GAY
48 GOING OUT
17 FOOD
50 BLIND DATE
18 FEATURES
51 CULT CLASSICS
Popping your cherry
Got to be green to be scene
Know a dyke from a river
Bloody vegetatation
Never just the tip of the iceberg
Gallery love
Cheap but not cheerful
Halloween haunts
Disconnect that virtual man
Movies from hell
23 REVIEWS
53 BACKCHAT
24 BOOKS
54 TUNNEL VISION
Give us a frenchie Fairy good
QUENCH@GAIRRHYDD.COM
Footy criminals
Your future in their hands
55 BARRY CADSHAW Anti-Carrie Bradshaw
Editor Sophie Robehmed Executive editor Perri Lewis Assistant to the Editors Elaine Morgan Arts Kim O’Connor, Rebecca Child Books Daisy Beare Columnists Gareth Paisey, Grace DeVille Cult Classics Tom Brookes Debate Caleb Woodbridge Digital Dom Mukwamba-Sendall Fashion Leana Crookes, Matt Hitt Features Amy Harrison, Ben Bryant Film Ewen Hosie, Ryan Owen, Si Truss Food Joanne Grew Gay Deen Lloyd Going Out Kayleigh Excell, Rachel Clare Interviews Amira Hashish, Nicola Menage Music Mike Richards, Sofie Jenkinson, Will Hitchins Photography Adam Gasson, James Perou, Luke Pavey, Sarah Day Travel Chris Rogers, Jim Whiteley Proof Readers Elise Kirke, Rachel Cormican Contributors Alex Mosley, Ana Moraes, Barry Cadshaw, Ben Marshall, Ben Read, Catherine Grogan, Cubs In Five, Dave Sadd, Emily Kendrick, Faith Giles, Gem Ellis, Gillian Couch, Guy Ferneyhough, Harriet Eaglestone, Jacqui Polley, James Mortimer, Jenna Harris, Jenny Hall, Joanna Butler, Juliet Chard, Josie Allchin, Lara Bell, Laura Challiner, Lee Macaulay, Lottie Butler, Luke Rees, Lucy Reader, Mariam Bashorun, Mary Parkes, Matt Keane, Matthew Tozer, Michael BatesonHill, Natalia Popova, Nicole Briggs, Ria Poole, Rebecca Shillabeer, Richard Drydon, Roxana Tigelaar, Rusty Stankovich, Ruth Mansfield, Sarah Edmonds, Sara Watkin, Simon Eckstein, Stephanie Haughton, Tom Williams. Cover design Sophie Robehmed Front page photo James Perou Thought of the week: I’ve never known you as filthy as you are tonight. It should be a song. And yes, Chris, we’re counting on you.
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qed
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alloween prematurely gripped me by the ear canal this year. It started with my housemate barking like a psychotic rottweiler on heat, (if you can imagine such a sound), that transpired through my bedroom floorboards. The intermittent periods of said barking made me think she had rapidly developed bipolar disorder. Apparently, we have a mouse. And I’ve spent most of the weekend alone with Herbie, who I can safely say, scares the bejeesus out of me. But filth is not what is at the core of this musing. Oh no, it’s irony I tell you (and incidentally, I’m most certainly not being ironic now). It’s taken Herbie’s prompt set-up of camp and daily delivery of The Cheese Times, for me to realise how downright infuriating irony is. I am so irate at irony. I reckon that most of you will have preconceived ideas that I live in a (particularly) dirty house. OK, admittedly, I think our faux-pas for this preliminary blip lies with missing bin day for two weeks running when we are now entirely surrounded by student houses. But still, forgetfulness aside, our house this year is so nice with light, airy, sky-lite, wooden floor interior. Last year, OK, we were living in a dingy, depressive, damp house on the outskirts of Cathays but in the thick of the ghetto, (which I think was safely justified when I witnessed a mugging outside my window). And as one friend rightly summed it up, in hindsight, ‘it really was like someone had just died in that house.’ Yes, we could have been oblivious to our rodent counterparts (excluding the boys we lived with, of course), but hearing how noisy ‘ol Herbie is, scuttling around and stocking up on our wholegrain, I very much doubt it. And that to me, is bitterly unjust. Not that I desired Rolland rat to pay a visit last year, but at least I would have been much more understanding and accepting of such a request to crash on my sofa. Anyway, I hope you find Quench suitably scary for the rather non-british tradition of Halloween that we are embracing by the gullet, (in true sadistic fashion, y’see), this week. In fact, I aspire the extent of fear to correspond with the traumatising thought that is successfully haunting my neurotic grey matter: the possibility that I might miss bin day for the third time on the trot. Because that wouldn’t be ironic or anything now, would it.
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PHOTO: JAMES PEROU
THE BLURB
LOS CAMPESINOS!: Doing it with 22 others
Cardiff’s unsigned to release compilation
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n 1979, Cardiff DIY label Z Block Records released a compilation of songs written and recorded by unsigned Cardiff Bands. The compilation, entitled ‘Is The War Over?’, was an unequivocal success, most of all for postpunk trio Young Marble Giants, who on the strength of the two tracks they provided for the release, secured a record deal with renound indie label Rough Trade records.
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This is a brilliant opportunity to explore the local music scene There’s hope amongst the local indie entourage that similar happenings might go down with the upcoming release of ‘This Town Ain’t Big Enough For The 22 Of Us’. Set to be the first release on the newly formed uber-indie label Twisted By Design, this
competition sees 22 of the best local musical acts, each contributing a song in an attempt to bring the local scene to the masses and show that although the NME may be all “New Rave this...” and “Thames Beat that...” everybody should be doing the, ummm, Severn Shuffle, or something equally ludicrously named. The next month is a big one, as it not only sees the launch of the CD, but also, of course, a massive launch party, conveniently timed to coincide. So, November 26 sees eight of said acts to be included on the release, playing a massive show at Clwb Ifor Bach. Threatmantics, Gindrinker, The Loves, Attack + Defend, Little My and Friends, Los Campesinos!, Stray Borders and The Wave Pictures to be precise. This is a brilliant opportunity to explore the local music scene with very little effort on your part, as it’s all going down on one stage. You’re advised to take advantage of it. Plenty more details and tickets and such available at www.clwb.net.
THEBLURB@GAIRRHYDD.COM
THE BLURB about the maze-like set-up within the Union, from gair rhydd to NME itself, throughout the day added to the mounting evidence of trouble within the Rock’n’Roll Riot camp. After a series of well-received sets from the Horrors, the Dykeenies and the Maccabees respectively, the Fratellis’ clattered on stage in a mass of wild Scottish curls. After bassist Barry thanked the Dykeenies and the Maccabees for their support on the current tour he then went on to embellish the current rumours by shouting “but fuck the Horrors!” in almost the same breath.
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“Fuck the Horrors!”
PHOTOS: JAMES PEROU
Barry Fratelli
FARIS ROTTER: Metaphorical kick in the face but real blood
WHAM BAM: it’s a rock ‘n’ roll Riot! The Fratellis use Cardiff’s Great Hall to confirm speculation about NME tour rift
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ast Friday saw the Great Hall become the impressive setting for the third date of the NME Rock’n’Roll Riot Tour. A fortress of shiny tour buses surrounded the Union, the ensuing chaos flecked with mumurs of tensions amidst already mounting speculation.
THEBLURB@GAIRRHYDD.COM
After talking over the current frictions with the Horrors’ Faris Rotter and Spider Webb the seeds of the recent bad feeling became clear. Apparently slathering their hands with black paint prior to meeting the Fratellis’ and wiping it on their back drop, which the band appeared to find less than amusing. Stumbling off stage, blood smeared across his face Rotter admitted,“we've caused some mischief, but we're doing our best not to get kicked off the tour. We’ve just rubbed them up the wrong way.” Yet Webb mused: "They've had one chart-topping record and decided to turn their back on the rest of the bands, which we find very amusing..” The Fratelli’s refused to comment to any publication on the night. Neither side seem inspired to resolve their differences, both seemingly thriving on the attention is has brought with it. Sofie Jenkinson
The Fratellis’ dressing room was located separately from the rest of the bands within the Union walls and they were noticably absent throughout the day in comparison to the other five bands playing later that night. These elements combined with the throng of journalists bustling
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THE BLURB/ DEBATE
The Gunpowder Plot Remember, remember... but was Guy Fawkes a terrorist, or was the whole thing masterminded by King James?
Terrorism
Conspiracy
Ben Read
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hen I was asked to write this article about that atrocious act in 1605, my thoughts were immediately drawn towards Guy Fawkes. My housemates mocked that I barely knew the difference between this Guy (no pun intended) and the Guy of Madonna fame, which is, thankfully, untrue. Guy Fawkes of York (1570-1606), having converted to Catholicism, grew in fanaticism for that faith and was willing to forsake the country of his birth to go to Spain to try and persuade the Spanish court to invade Britain. Upon their refusal, he looked to other ways of venting his deep hatred for Protestantism. In 1605, 36 barrels of gunpowder were discovered under the Palace of Westminster, and Fawkes and his motley crew were arrested. They were going to attempt to use this gunpowder to kill both the king and his ministers in parliament. They would have either burned to death or suffocated in the dense smoke, created by the 16th-century gunpowder. Fawkes, when meeting the King, tells his majesty that he would gladly have blown him and his countrymen back to Scotland. His determination to give nothing away in his interrogation shows his conviction, further displayed in fearlessness at his impending horrific execution of hanging, drawing and quartering. A Protestant conspiracy is harder to believe than this terrorism. James I, though deeply fearful for his life at his meeting with Fawkes, refuses to blame or take revenge on British Catholics by brutally suppressing them, as he surely would have done had there been a conspiracy. The plot is similar to the terrorism of today. Fawkes shows terroristic traits, displaying misplaced conviction and hatred of an entire race, along with a readiness to die. To see his cause succeed, he is willing to commit a murderous atrocity, killing the whole of parliament, including even those who support that cause. His plot is surely something we can describe as terrorism, though we cannot justify the punishment he received.
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Jenna Harris
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uy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot is something that, according to the rhyme, ‘Should never be forgot’. He certainly hasn’t been, bizarrely being both celebrated as one of the 100 Greatest Britons and portrayed as a terrorist. His modern day detractors may attempt to draw comparisons with terrorism and fundamentalist extremism. The Gunpowder Plot may look bad today, but the Renaissance world was one full of violence. The country was in a tumultuous state, flipping between Catholicism and Protestantism depending on the latest monarch. Each time these changes were accompanied by waves of religious prosecution and executions, sometimes inflicted by monarchs onto their own blood. Fawkes was behaving like everyone else. Britain may have a dubious history of crusading in other countries, but we don’t now go and tell people that they can’t practice their religion in their own country. Yet back then Fawkes was subjected to intolerance in his own country and literally exiled from every aspect of society. Catholics were expecting James I to be more sympathetic than his predecessor Elizabeth I, but this did not happen. Some historians believe that the King, or those close to him, discovered the plot early on but allowed it to continue in a bid to further repress Catholics and gain popularity for the Monarchy. One fact is irrefutably true: the aftermath saw Catholics despised even more and lose many of their civil liberties such as voting. The public trial of the plotters turned into a spectacle with the government charging admission to citizens. Post-plot, every effort was made to demonise Fawkes. The irony is that the man annually burnt as an effigy and seen by many as a figure of anarchy did not actually devise the plan. Guy Fawkes does indeed leave us with something to remember: how governments use fear and terror for their own ends to try and control us.
DEBATE@GAIRRHYDD.COM
THE BLURB/ GRACE
Don’t give me that... The shops are filling up with Christmas products already - but why are all the presents so rubbish?
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’m manically running around Boots like a seal fleeing from a club-wielding Eskimo and all these people keep getting in my way, obstructing my pathway towards the Snack-a-Jacks. I’m searching for as much monosodiumglutamate-filled treats as I can stuff down my trap in one lunch hour, but everyone is flitting around in fits and starts, distracted by the attractive displays of ornamental ginger jars filled with sugared almonds, Lynx gift sets and slipper socks. This isn’t a nightmare; it’s real life. Unfortunately it’s only going to get worse from now on. The season of goodwill is upon us and the shops are filled of people who aren’t accustomed to city-centres and the laws of shopping. These annual shoppers have a deadline to meet, a list to provide for and a budget to adhere to. They only look slightly stunned at around this time: in a month or so they’ll start to twitch and the whites of their eyes will turn pink and swollen. You may also notice frothy spittle around the corners of their mouths. I’m beginning to wonder if Christmas is really worth this amount of stress. Perhaps I’m too selfish. My Christmas shopping usually results in 95% of the ‘presents’ ending up in my own wardrobe; therefore I’ve provided a useful guide for those of you who, like me, are too lazy to think about anyone else except yourself. It seems that if you’re willing to spend an astronomical amount of money, you can solve all your gift ‘issues’ in one fail swoop. If you really hate someone, why not insult them by giving them a generic gift devoid of any personality or sentiment? Let’s take a peek at a sample of the quality ‘stuff’ that is waiting to be snapped up in a shop-
ping precinct near you. Aside from the usual myriad of perfume gift sets and bath pearls there are some truly incomprehensibly pointless items. Who thinks up this shit? Boots Oil of Evening Primrose Butter Dish: Comes with cream bath and body lotion PLUS moisturising cream - because everyone needs a novelty butter dish with their bubble bath. Give this to an annoying colleague or your evil foster-mum. BHS Chocolate Cheque: Yes, it’s a chocolate bar wrapped up to look like a cheque. This sums up my argument pretty well. If you’re going to waste money then you may as well make it blindingly obvious.
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If you really hate some-
Grace de Ville Amazing. Products labelled as ‘gifts’ are guaranteed to be neither use nor ornament to anyone, yet each year we splash our sterling on a load of complete and utter tat. There’s no nice way to put this; these presents are offensive. I’d rather unwrap a sole Brussels sprout smeared with bile than a faux-porcelain pink shoe ornament complete with a froufrou feather trim. For some bizarre reason, a distant relative thought that a 21- year-old university-educated girl would benefit from this. I suggest that we all boycott spending any money at Christmas. I’m not being ungrateful - I just think that it’s a complete WASTE OF TIME. Bah Humbug.
one, why not give them a generic gift devoid of any personality or sentiment?
Boots Bird Lover’s Clock: Chimes a different authentic bird song each hour, with light sensor to deactivate birds’ songs when dark. Batteries not included. Why does this exist? If I gave this to my Granddad he’d probably think that there were birds in his living room and call Rentokill. BHS Chaise-Longue-shaped faux-velvet jewellery box: This classy product is destined for a Brownies fundraising tombola stand. Either that or it’ll end up in the shed, filled with foreign coins, paperclips, rusty nails and the presents that you get in crackers. Boots Old Fashioned Hot Dog Roller (at the bargain price of £49.99) Does exactly what it says on the tin. And it heats the buns.
GRACEDEVILLE@GAIRRHYDD.COM
SEVEN
INTERVIEWS
Top of the pop They say you should never speak to your idols. But when Ben Marshall caught up with NME columnist and Popjustice creator, Peter Robinson, he was not disappointed...
I have been a pop fan for eight years now. The first album I bought was Spiceworld and I recently managed to offend pretty much everyone seated around me at the Live Music Society pub crawl by insinuating that Girls Aloud were better than Blur. However in an increasingly indie-centric music world, pop has become somewhat of a dirty word. This was demonstrated quite aptly with the exclusion of ‘traditional’ pop artists like Girls Aloud from the ‘Best Pop’ Category at the Brits, whereas artists like James Blunt were included. All is not lost though, as one man is on a mission to save pop, and that man is Peter Robinson of www.popjustice.com fame. I recently caught up with Peter to talk about his new CD, the decline of adult pop, and the time old question of who are better: Busted or McFly? ‘Popjustice’ is released this week. Why did you decide to put together
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this record now? Well, the point behind the website was to get people excited about brilliant pop music, and to separate the bad pop music from the good. So, really, a CD is a logical way of distributing good pop music and getting rid of the bad pop music. I wanted to make something that pop fans will like, but also people who wouldn’t necessarily buy pop music would be happy and proud to own. The album is described as ‘Proper pop music for grown-ups.’ Do you reckon that part of pop’s problem these days is that it can be seen as a genre of music aimed at kids? Yes, well the pop industry in the mid to late 90s redefined pop as just for kids. In the 80s Culture Club & Duran Duran were doing adult pop music, for adults. In the 80s and 90s pop music killed itself; it wasn’t indie music like many people like to believe. However, that said, adult music is making a comeback. Artists like Goldfrapp, The Killers and Justin Timberlake are all making brilliant music for adults again.
Pop music hasn’t had a very good year, what with the demise of Smash Hits and Top Of The Pops. How can pop be ‘pop’ without the various media outlets that it used to have? One of the problems that many new pop bands used to have was that radio simply wouldn’t play pop, and now the teen press doesn’t exist it’s even harder for new pop bands to break through. People are more interested in the ‘celeb culture’ rather than the music. Also with the demise of traditional pop music programmes like TOTP and CD:UK, the only way for a new band to be exposed is on TV shows like Parkinson & Jonathan Ross which aren’t really open to pop fans. Take this new band 365 for example. They aren’t great, but they’re good, but because there is no real outlet for them they won’t be as big as they could have been. For a pop band to succeed they need a massive launch, it’s not like indie bands who can slowly build up a fanbase, it’s a lot harder for a pop band to succeed these days. Popjustice is no longer just a website, it’s now a mobizine, a club night, a myspace and even a range of books. They were all a result of the popularity of the website. The internet is a powerful tool but do you think it will replace ‘proper’ magazines? I don’t think that it will replace TV & Magazines, but I do think that it will have a fundamental effect on them. You just have to look at Heat magazine to see that they have adapted it to fit in with the more internet savvy generation, by making it bittier. With TV you now have an even bigger scope to choose what you want to watch, I don’t know if you have seen it, but some early morning shows, you can use the red button to select from several different bands to assemble your own television
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INTERVIEWS programme. However, now a nineyear-old can’t buy Smash Hits, and there are no other decent pop music magazines, so if you don’t start buying pop magazines between the ages of nine to twelve, why would they bother to start buying them after that age? How do you think ‘Popjustice’ should be administered? I think we should hit hip hop stars where it hurts – in their wallets. There should be some sort of Paypal system in association with iTunes. No more royalties, instead people should donate whatever they feel like. Don’t like a song? Only give 3p. That’s my idea by the way, don’t steal it. What do you think of the current trend of nostalgia tours? Following Take That’s lead doesn’t necessarily mean that it will work. Take That were huge and Take That’s fans are coming to the age where they are starting to feel nostalgic and look back at their teen years. However, on the other hand, 5ive have only been broken up for 5 years, so their fans aren’t old enough to want to look back at the stupid things they did in their teens. Plus they haven’t got all their members and they look sh*t. All Saints’ new song is brilliant though, so all is forgiven. Who were/are better: Busted or McFly? Busted were one of the best pop bands of the last few years and they redefined pop music as we know it. They also had three distinct characters whereas McFly are definitely more of a group. Unfortunately
Girls Aloud: He’s a big fan
INTERVIEWS@GAIRRHYDD.COM
Busted don’t have that much of a back catalogue, so what you want ideally is Busted doing McFly songs. Matt Willis or L’il Chris? Definitely Matt Willis. L’il Chris could still go back to school, but what does Matt Willis have? He’s got a fairly decent beard. Well, it comes and goes. Definitely Matt, though.
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I think we should hit hip hop stars where it hurts - in their wallets! Girls Aloud or Scissor Sisters? Girls Aloud, no contest. What other websites do you look at? I usually look at myspace.com, holymoly.com, channelfour.com/music and assorted blogs. Finally, do you have any advice to budding music journalists? Start a blog, don’t rip off Popjustice, don’t tell anyone about it so you can find which style suits you best, always apply proper journalistic practices, so don’t libel or host illegal mp3s, I could increase the traffic to popjustice.com if hosting illegal mp3s, but I couldn’t call myself a journalist. Finally, and most importantly, find your own voice. There you have it. Pop is dead, Long Live Pop.
Pop facts - Popjustice is a music website founded in 2000 and is the work of UK freelance music journalist Peter Robinson, who has worked for NME, The Guardian, Attitude and many others. - Recently, he has been hired to create the new Channel 4 music website along with the anonymous author of music blog "Holy Moly." - Robinson first came to the attention of music fans with his self published biography/fanzine of one of the seminal bands of the British acid house movement during the late 1980s and early 1990s: the KLF. - His tongue-in-cheek writing harkens back to the style of '80s magazines like Smash Hits, and often features running gags. His NME column Peter Robinson Versus..., in which he conducts a page-long interview over the phone, is a favourite among NME fans for its irreverent tone and non-sequitur topics. Perhaps because of his familiarity with the pop music scene, it features more mainstream pop and hip-hop artists than the rest of the indieoriented magazine - Pop justice seeks to celebrate commercial popular music using humour, user interaction, and contacts within the music industry. Support of Rachel Stevens, Kylie Minogue, Sophie Ellis-Bextor, Jamelia, Busted, McFly and Girls Aloud prompted some to suggest financial links to Universal Music, although this was denied by Robinson who pointed out that Popjustice is run independently. - A series of Popjustice books called Popjustice Idols were published in March 2006, drawing inspriration from Roger Hargreaves' Mr Men books. The initial titles were Madonna, Robbie Williams and Eminem with a Take That version released in April 2006. Four more are due in September 2006 featuring Pete Doherty, Elton John, Britney Spears and Michael Jackson, and there is talk of this range expanding into a TV format. A compilation album will also be released in October 2006, titled Popjustice: 100% Solid Pop. Check it out!
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INTERVIEWS
The Lowdown
The latest celebrity updates with Amira and Nicky
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op Gear presenter Richard Hammond is said to be recovering well from his near-fatal injury in which he crashed a jet car at 288 mph. He revealed to journalists that his first words to himself after the crash had been: “oh Buggar, that’s gone wrong.” As he began to recover consciousness after two days, panic set in and he behaved childishly and irrationally. "Basically I was mad as a bag of snakes ... My mind was like an office that had been utterly ransacked. All the filing cabinets were knocked over. It was a total mess and I couldn't find my way around any more. My own mind was like a foreign place. I didn't know where anything was." After his injury it was thought he would have to
remain in hospital for at least 15 months but, after just two weeks at a unit in Leeds and then another three weeks in Bristol, the automotive journalist was discharged with no physical marks “to boast about in the pub.” In his typical light-hearted way, however, Richard was quoted to have said: “I've been through hell and I've got nothing to show for it except a chipped tooth. I'm gutted.” Heather Mills plans to become the face of a domestic violence charity after her divorce from Paul McCartney. The estranged wife of former Beatle Sir Paul has told friends that she wants "some good" to come from her bitter marriage breakdown - and campaigning against domestic abuse is the answer. The development comes days after
the Mail revealed sensational leaked divorce papers in which she accused Sir Paul of physically attacking her on four occasions during their fouryear marriage. In one confrontation he allegedly stabbed her in the arm with a broken wine glass while in another he allegedly pushed her into the bath, causing her 'shock and distress'
Comedian Russell Brand has revealed he is planning a foray into acting. The funnyman was reported as saying that he would like to play "a court jester with an eye on the crown," as he arrived for the premiere of film Sixty Six in Leicester Square last night. He added: "I think if I went to Hollywood now I'd just be working in a restaurant; it would be a bit embarrassing. I'll stay here and tell jokes and that." But he said of his future plans: "I'm gonna be doing acting.”
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obbie Williams has managed to get his latest single Rudebox out on Monday 22 as scheduled, despite a legal battle with ex Take That manager Nigel Martin. Robbie had to remove a number of lyrics from a track called The 90s which Martin claimed were defamatory. So listen up for the out of place instrumental section where the disputed words once were.
Jordan is apparently getting ready to go back under the knife for another boob job. This time however, she's decided to have them reduced Officially the 30G glamour model says she wants them to be taken down in order to help her have another baby. After suffering a recent miscarriage the 28 year old mum of two has finally decided to reduce the assets that have made her millions.
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INTERVIEWS@GAIRRHYDD.COM
TRAVEL
The Middle East
Part 1
Travel brings you the first in a two part special. Grab your magic carpet as we travel the travel blackspot that is the Middle East. Katy Gorman kicks of the action with an account of her life in Oman tarting on a slightly biased foot, I must say that in my personal opinion Oman is the best place in the world. I realise the great weight this statement holds, as I myself live there, but have been warned by Quench magazine that my word may not be enough to persuade the readership. Ludicrous as this seems I shall elaborate and allow you to come to the same conclusion yourselves. The Middle East is the hidden corner of the world. Although currently frequenting our TV screens, few British people have ever been there. If they have it was most probably to Dubai or possibly, if the army is their chosen career, Iraq. Oman is a million miles away from both in all terms but distance. The tendency is to view the Middle East as an impenetrable block and as one and all of the same. Yet as with Europe, each country is unique and each has its own specific cultures and eccentricities. And, importantly, governments. An oasis of calm between Yemen and the UAE, Oman borders the Arabian sea and Persian gulf. Mountains, blue clean seas, deserts, lush greenery and hot weather all year round may be the promises of travel brochures but it is rare that all are found within the same country. This combination is what makes
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Oman so spectacular; there is so much variety. There are several allinclusive five-plus star hotels, three built in the last year, and there can be found many a sun-worshipper. In fact, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie and Michael Jackson have all taken refuge within these establishments seeking privacy from the press. These hotels are isolated in their location and being all inclusive their residents don’t tend to explore past their walls. This is a huge mistake. If you want to shop and club, go to Dubai. Oman is the leader for culture and adventure.
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The souk is a visual maze of Aladdin’s Kingdom For a true Arabian experience I can think of no better way to begin than to head to Muttrah, the old part of Muscat, Oman’s capital, where can be found the docks and the souk, the Arabic word for market. If you are awake early enough, and I recommend you are as midday temperatures can reach forty degrees, barter with the fishermen with prices for their fresh catch. Once you have
practiced your negotiation skills, brave the souk. You will smell it before you see it, and now that it is sanitized, I am happy to say, the aroma is mostly fresh spices and shisha pipe than anything else. The souk is a visual maze of Aladdin’s kingdom. Silver, gold and pashminas are the speciality, so girls beware. Although of course no-one should leave without their own singing camel or mosque alarm clock. Wadi-bashing is very popular with the expatriates in Oman. Escape the grounds of the hotel and Muscat, rent a four-wheel drive or join an expedition and head out into the desert, only a few hours drive. There you can sandboard, practice your dune driving and of course your camping skills. Although a Middle Eastern country, alcohol is freely accessible and a necessity on your trip. Once night falls, entertainment is a matter of taste, but with a free flow of beer most pursuits are amusing and if camping near the sea, a night-time swim with the phosphorescence is mandatory. I come to the end of this article feeling I have not done justice to Oman, sure that there are many points I have missed. I can come therefore to only one conclusion. Go. Find out for yourself. I promise you will not be disappointed.
TRAVEL@GAIRRHYDD.COM
TRAVEL
Afghanistan Mullahs, Mosques and goat’s heads. Lydia James takes us to Afghanistan
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fghanistan; my destination of choice last Christmas. I was expecting this trip to be unforgettable, but as my gap year taught me, travel can’t be called an adventure unless something goes wrong! I didn’t go to Afghanistan on a whim, this is impossible because obtaining a visa is tricky as the foreign office advises against all but essential travel. I visited my sister who works for an NGO in Mazar-eSharif, a large town in northern Afghanistan. My decision to go in December and brave a harsh winter with temperatures of minus 15 – a cold that means you can see your breath even in bed - was down to itchy feet and my reluctance to swelter in an Afghan summer with temperatures of 50 degrees. There are no direct flights to Afghanistan from Britain and limited options include changing at Dubai, with a long wait, an attractive but expensive choice, or changing at Frankfurt, a deceptively simple choice. Little did I know that Frankfurt has 2 airports and instead of flying into its international airport I was touching down at another one and a half hours drive away. Unfortunately my plane was due to depart in one a half hours and despite wheezing to the departure gate in 13 minutes; an amazing achievement by the way, the plane left without me. Afghanistan not being the most popular of destinations means that flights’ to Kabul are few and far between. The next flight was four days later; on Christmas day. Instead of airport squatting however, thanks to various connections, I stayed with a German family in snowy Nurnberg! Boxing Day dawned in another world. Surreal and grey are the only
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words I can use to sum up Kabul. It almost felt like I had been there before because of what I had seen on TV; men with scarves keeping out the cold and dust, ghost-like women gliding along in white burqas and the Mullah’s haunting calls to prayer. I expected to feel vulnerable as a lone, western female but I was unprepared for the extent of the gendered power division and how helpless I felt when I wasn’t picked up from the airport like expected; luckily another westerner helped me but Afghanistan is not a tourist-friendly country. Besides abiding by the dress code, it is important not to make eye contact with the opposite sex and to have a few words of the language, Dari, under your belt. One word I can still remember for obvious reasons is ‘tashknob’ which means ‘toilet’! Afghanistan has a stark beauty because of the noticeable shortage of trees and vegetation especially in and around Kabul thanks to the Russian invasion, this combined with pollution and the dry heat of the summer, accounts for a lot of dust. Cars from all parts of the world battle for space in the cities, half with steering wheels on the left and half on the right making everyone but the Afghans very confused! The Hindu Kush mountain range on the road to Mazar-e-Sharif is stunning and the drive spectacular but frequent landmine warnings are a reminder that this country has a long history of war and suffering that it cannot recover from easily. Mazar-e-sharif is quieter and greener then Kabul and home to one of Islam’s holiest sites; the Blue Mosque. The mosque appears unscathed and is in the main square around which there are bazaars selling clothes, even second hand ones (!) and jewellery. You can even buy popcorn from vendors! Instead of football, Afghan men play a game that is definitely worth watching called Buzcashi (‘buz’ means goat and ‘cash’ is 'to pull'). It is similar to Polo but involves a goat’s head – if you think that’s bad,
in the time of the Taliban, they used a prisoner’s head! Afghanistan is incredible, largely because of its people who are hospitable to a fault; the images of Afghan people, especially women, simply do not tell the full story. Would I go again? Definitely, but at Easter this time so I don’t freeze or faint, and only if I get to change planes in Dubai! While travelling in the Middle East, ’t n make sure you o D s sample the delis i M ciously refreshing yoghurt drink known as Ayran. It is a mixture of natural yoghurt, salt and water and although repulsive at first, it will soon grow on you.
AYRAN iÇiNiZ No signs of anti-capitalism here. The caption innocently reads: “Say no to Nazi Coke.”
THIRTEEN
FASHION
Going green at London fashion week Harriet Eaglestone finds out what it’s like at LWF with a press pass and looks at what eco-friendly fashions were on offer
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t started off with a twinkle of an idea, an idea that could well have snowballed out of control and down the road to London. And that’s exactly what it did. London Fashion Week was fast approaching. The posters were up, the models booked, the clothes designed and the camera batteries charged. It was going to be an extravagant affair with famous faces popping up all over the place and an array of iconic British designers; it was sure to be an amazing week. The glitz and glamour would be there, the ethical, the moral, the filthy rich, the outrageous and the drunks, all enclosed in the creative hub that is London Fashion Week. And I wanted to be there. It seems that just wanting to be there with every living fibre you have is not enough, oh no. You have to book yourself into the fashion shows, and with the last minute green light on even being allowed my little press pass, it meant I was far, far to late to get a seat anywhere.
FOURTEEN
After a lot of phone calls I got a few mumblings of “turn up and see if we can squeeze you in”. Yes! A glimmer of hope to feel the passion as the waif-like models strutted their stuff down the catwalk, flash bulbs popping, notes being taken, glances exchanged and hands clapped. But I was a long and devious way off from actually being allowed inside the shows. It can be dark on the outside looking in, on this glittery, creative bubble.
have to say was the most imaginative, was the Esethica section. It is a section devoted to those designers using recycled products, or ethical ways of production. Davina Hawthorne was my first port of call. Her collection, Aunty Winnie’s Party, mixes recycled wool, organic hemp and floral fabrics for her apron dresses. Inspired by Mexican mourning ceremonies, the dresses have a small skull print on them, which from a distance looks
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Fluttering my eyelashes and giving a coy smile was the secret code to opening the doors of London Fashion Week With security tighter than a duck’s arse my elusive press pass just fitted in between two giant bouncers. Fluttering my eyelashes and giving a coy smile was the secret code to opening the doors of London Fashion Week. What interested me most, and I
floral and compliments the flowershaped fabric embellishments. The cropped jumpers have also been made from recycled wool, which creates a very feminine look with tie dresses and girlie, peachy colours. Terra Plana was next on my list. It was started 15 years ago and most
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FASHION products are 99% recycled. The shoes are created from recycled Tshirts, leather scraps from car seats, parachute silk, jeans, recycled rubber, ex-military jackets and re-used buttons. With shoes looking more like rugged walking boots, to flipflops made from recycled rubber and car seat belts there is something for everyone. Another innovative design by Terra Plana is the Dopie. It is a moulded flip-flop, and can be worn with no straps. It looks almost like a hoof, and comes in several bright colours, including black, white, pink, orange and green. Next I headed over to Sui Generis; created in 2001. It’s a Brightonbased exclusive footwear label producing made to order shoes. It is a trans-seasonal range taking its cue from developing fashion trends. With celebrities such as Sadie Frost, Alison Goldfrapp and Natalie Portman lapping up the handmade shoes, it proves that fashion can be ethical. Vintage is a collection using a range of fabrics, ranging from 1920s tapestry to 1940s damask, in a wide selection of colours and designs, without using any animal products. All shoes are lovingly made in the UK and Beyond Skin’s philosophy is to create products that are non-exploitative to animals, humans and wherever possible – the greater environment. Natalie Dean, Beyond Skin founder, comments: “Our exclusive footwear is lovingly handmade
for women who want quality and style without sacrificing their ethics.” With prices starting from £277.00, I’m not too sure my student budget can stretch that far. Over at Ciel’s Spring/Summer ‘07 collection there is a beautiful array of floaty fabrics and layers. The colours and moods are influenced by a romantic English summer and dresses with deep plunging v-necks and empire-line halter necks feature heavily in the collection. Ciel designer Sarah Rattys claims she “wanted to create a label that is both stylish, uses beautiful soft fabrics that is
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It looks almost like a hoof, and comes in several bright colours, including black, white, pink, orange and green consciously produced, and makes you feel good from the inside, whilst looking and feeling fabulous to wear!” Ciel is attracting the attention of celebrities such as Cate Blanchet and Zoe Ball. She uses organically grown cotton, linen, bamboo, modal, hemp and silk crepe blends. As well as using recycled post-manufactured textile industrial waste; all are finished using 100% Azo-free dyes. And
by using sustainable sources her methods of production should be around in many years to come. Sadly though, like all good events, LFW had to come to a close, and on a dark Friday afternoon, the rain was tapping on the roof of the tents, and with the large flat-screen TVs no longer showing the catwalks it was time to leave. With my free LFW bag and coveted press pass around my neck, I put up my brolly and headed for the tube. Knowing that over the next two days the stock would be sold and the tents taken down. Then again, there is always next year.
Fairtrade fashion in Cardiff Helen McKay-Ferguson pops into the outlets in our own fair city Oyster in the Castle Arcade carries a wide range of clothing from ethical companies like Howies, Chandni Chowk, Epona and Hug. It also does jewellery by Silver Chilli and Art Kem. Owner Jenny Howel is keen to be ethical to her customers as well: “The clothes we sell will have a decent life. They aren’t going to fall apart.” Fair Do’s in Canton is devoted to all things fair trade. At the back of the store there’s a small clothing section with skirts and jackets by Bishopstone, floaty dresses by Siesta and cheerful tops by Nomads. Shared Earth in the Royal Arcade does a small range of hippy-type shirts and skirts from Namaste and Siesta. There’s also scarves, headbands, gloves, bags and jewellery.
SUI GENERIS: Hippie shit FAIR DO’S: Fairly organised
FASHION@GAIRRHYDD.COM
FIFTEEN
GAY
Queer eye for the straight guy Has the emergence of the ‘metrosexual male’ made it impossible to identify gay people? Quench investigates…
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rriving in Cardiff as a fresher, I wasn’t really sure what to expect from the gay scene here. However, i decided that, although freshers’ week is a completely hetero-orientated activity, I was going to do a little research of my own and see what it’s like for the single Cardiff gay. One little, but very important question, seemed to get in my way. Is he straight or gay? These days it can be more than a little tricky to tell. With all the gays
Jenny’s top 5 lesbian generalisations Are there any ways of picking up on one’s same sex tendencies without embarrassing yourself in the process? Here are my tell tale signs that the girl you’ve always fancied is actually the gayest thing since Ellen: 1. She will have just got my lame Ellen joke and know that her surname isn’t pronounced “degenerate”. 2. She rushes to the dance floor during a Hole song. Courtney Love is the greatest thing since malt loaf. 3. Lesbianism and vegetarianism are basically the same thing. 4. If she refers to her ex as “her partner” or is very careful with pronouns, you’re onto her. 5. Most lesbians, apart from a few diet coke heads amongst my acquaintances, are open-minded towards beer and lager. Offer to buy her a drink and see what she says. If it doesn’t come with a straw, then for the love of Martina Navatalova, make a move!
SIXTEEN
dressed in their hoodies and all the straights in tight-as-you-like drainpipes (not to mention all the pink), deciphering the validity of a potential conquest sometimes isn’t even worth the trouble. After spending a couple of days with my eyes peeled, I knew I’d have to get to the core of the issue, and hit the gay bars. With three of my fabulous newfound friends who’d spent their teenage years yearning for a GBF, we went to get a taster of Cardiff’s finest at King’s Cross. I’d just grabbed us a bottle of white and was sitting down when this guy started looking at me, and smiled. He must have been sponsored by Domestos because there was bleach everywhere; in his hair, on his teeth, splattered across his tiny t-shirt and jeans. The girls and I kept talking for a while and I indulged in some coy eye contact, eventually he beckoned me over. “Hey,” he began, “is your friend seeing anyone?” Confused, I looked behind me. “Um, you mean Daisy?” I replied as I pointed over to her. I smiled, and, feeling brutally rebuffed, headed back to the others.
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How could it be that a man would come to a gay bar all alone and be straight? How could it be that a man would come to a gay bar all alone and be straight? The prices? The décor? I rarely see people alone in bars – it’s a social activity, surely? Are we all so secure with each other’s sexuality that straight men can just swan in and out of gay venues? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not heterophobic in any way, but I thought gay pubs and clubs were where the like-minded and like-gendered could come together. If this isn’t the case, where can we go to find the man,
“I Aint No Fookin Queer! Alright?” woman or transgender of our wet dreams? This unification of our ‘It Generation’ on a sexual level seemed like a positive development, but I was starting to have second thoughts. All of us a little perplexed, I gave in and we headed to Metros – I’d had enough homo-mystification for one evening. and I decided to find solace in alcohol. Three and a half double vodkas later, the musky scent of Calvin Klein and sweat filled the room and before long I’d forgotten the sexual misunderstandings of earlier. Then, turning around I caught some one looking at me. I shook myself. He was probably looking at one of the girls, not me, and so I carried on dancing. Waiting for my friend outside he walked past again, still smiling. I wondered how far this revolution had come. Was he taking the piss? Enough is enough, I thought, I was going to deal with this phantom smiler once and for all. “Hey,” I half said, half slurred to him. And so begun the classic fresher conversation that I’d learned off by heart. Until suddenly… “You look really good.” “Me?” I responded nearly choking on my vodka. Was he serious? Well, at least my question as to where all the gay guys were was answered. Apparently, they were in Metros where the vodka is cheap and sweat drops freely from the ceiling. Despite my previous hesitations, I now welcome our merge with our heterosexual counterparts. Like all business proposals, there are a few bumps and creases to iron out preliminarily, but eventually we’re all reaping the benefits. Go to a gay bar with your straight friends; go to a straight bar with your gay friends; go everywhere with everyone. Either way, start a revolution in your nightclub and embrace the challenge of being in uncharted territory.
GAY@GAIRRHYDD.COM
FOOD
Steak or salad? Could you be a vegetarian? Catherine Grogan and Laura Challiner give their reasons for and against meat eating
The meat-lover
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s a student, I have often considered whether continuing to eat meat is the right thing to do. On one hand if we all gave up meat, not only would the long awaited Solus burger bar be a waste of time, but over 60,000 farmers in the UK alone would lose their livelihood: they can’t all diversify into nutcutlets. Having said this even I am shocked by the graphic posters you see as you walk down Queen Street and I too wish I had never watched TV the night Jamie Oliver explained that chicken nuggets are more like arse nuggets. But then I think. I just love meat and life’s too short. Meat is a big part of a healthy and satisfying meal and also life. It’s something we should get great joy from, to share good times with friends over, traditional meat dishes shape and say a lot about many countries’ culture and identity. That’s not to say vegetarian meals aren’t part of this, it’s just that it limits your options so much, particularly in restaurants. Finally, a Quorn bacon buttie is just never going to cure a hangover. Catherine Grogan
The vegetarian
I
am a vegetarian because every minute of everyday, thousands of animals are killed horrendously in slaughterhouses. Life is unnatural for many of these animals; they are treated like objects. They are artificially bred, having a diet of hormones and fattening foods. They are abused and crammed into the smallest of spaces. Not only that, there is an increasingly wide range of tasty vegetarian options more than ever on the market today, which are healthier than eating meat. Meat has higher cholesterol and fat levels than most plantfoods. It is also deficient in carbohydrates, particularly starches, which are essential to proper health. It doesn’t take much effort not to eat meat. Being a vegetarian is one of the most ethical and dramatic improvements I have ever done. All you need to do is ensure your diet is well balanced and you are living a healthier, eco-friendly and moral lifestyle. You may think that if you stop eating meat it won’t make any difference; you are wrong. Although your consumption of a particular piece of meat does not directly cause the death of the animal that it came from, it does directly contribute to the demand to kill another animal. Laura Challiner
FOOD@GAIRRHYDD.COM
SEVENTEEN
FEATURES After the death of Steve Irwin and serious injury of Richard Hammond shocked the nation in September, Ruth Mansfield asks, just how far celebrities will go in the name of entertainment? roc hunter Steve Irwin dead!’ This was the headline that shocked millions worldwide on the morning of September 4 as it was announced that zoo owner and TV star Steve Irwin had been killed by a stingray. Little did we know that on September 20 - less than two weeks later - we’d be hit with a second shocking headline, as Top Gear presenter Richard Hammond was reported as being in a critical condition after being involved in a 300mph crash. September certainly became a month to remember with these two incidents. Although Hammond is now recovering well, as both of these accidents took place while the stars were filming for their television shows, it does force us to think about how much celebrities are prepared to risk their lives in order to provide us with a few hours of entertainment. Irwin has always wowed the public with daredevil stunts as he would go within millimetres
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Celebrity Defying death to suffer at the hands of a fish
of alligators, crocodiles and venomous snakes. He was criticised for some of his work, including holding his month-old son Bob while feeding an alligator. However, the thousands of fans who laid flowers at his zoo or posted messages on websites and newspapers worldwide marvelled at the bravery and courage he showed, as well as the clear expertise and enthusiasm he had for wildlife. Many would agree with wildlife expert David Bellamy who simply said: “He would not have wanted to die in his bed.” Although he is in a completely different business, Richard Hammond has always enjoyed taking risks in order to entertain the public. His accident occurred while
trying to break the British land speed record. Hammond had already filmed his attempts for the show, but because of his love for living dangerously had decided to have an extra attempt in the jet powered car. It was during this that the crash happened. After the accident there were calls to try and ban Top Gear from airing. The many fans of Top Gear fought back, however, arguing that the programme and daredevil stunts were
Hamster, pre-accident
EIGHTEEN
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Skin clearly something which Hammond and co loved doing. It seems that they could have won, as there are now talks that the actual crash may be aired. This is so that viewers can see the safety precautions which were taken, and understand how the accident actually happened. While incidents such as these tend to bring out the critics who suggest that we should go back to boring, sensible television, they also bring out the many fans and supporters of these dare-devil stars who realise that these celebrities are an important part of the entertainment business. There are of course many more figures who have pushed their bodies to the limit for the crazy world of showbiz - including David Blaine. Blaine began his career as a street magician, until he realised that this was a world which loved danger and things out of the ordinary. The magician went on to perform a number of acts which many of us could only respond to with the words “he must be mad!”
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They could drive a Mini at 30mph. But would this provide entertainment? His list of acts include being buried alive for seven days, standing on a 56cm wide platform on the top of a 27m high pole for 35 hours, living in a transparent box suspended above the River Thames for 44 days with no food and living underwater for seven days. Although he has survived them all, many of Blaine’s acts have left him requiring medical attention. Some have even left him hospitalised for a while afterwards too. Similarly, Jackass introduced us to the likes of Johnny Knoxville and Steve-O, who got their laughs by filming themselves performing mad
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FEATURES
Jackass: plumbing new depths of television excellence
world. stunts which quite often left them Sure, they could just look at wild covered with bruises and occasionalanimals from outside a cage and ly in plaster. talk about how great they look. Or Their television show was obviousthey could drive a mini at 30mph ly popular enough for them to land and give their verdict on the car. But their own movie deal, however, as would this really attract viewing figthey volunteered themselves for ures and provide entertainment? even more breath-holding, eye-coverWe live in a society today that ing, bottom-clenching acts. We loves danger, thrills and going one watched them cross a wire suspendstep ahead beyond the ordinary. ed above a pool of alligators, and Among others, Irwin and Hammond dress up in a bear costume to wresare two of the many great characters tle with a live bear. who make this their life philosophy, Add to this the increasing number providing the nation with television of celebrities entering the likes of that no-one could ever class as borI’m a Celebrity... who are prepared to ing. Get well soon Hamster and rest camp in the jungle for two weeks. in peace Steve. Crikey, the world’s Surviving on a diet of bugs and performing tasks such as jumping out of gonna miss ya! a plane, it seems there is no end of stars who will put their fears aside in order to entertain the Great British Public. Of course, there are those who criticise such celebrities, suggesting that they will do anything to attract some publicity. Maybe this is so, but if this is the way that they choose to do it, then fair enough. Viewing figures for their programmes suggest that perhaps it is working for them after all. So while many may disagree with the likes of Irwin and Hammond risking their lives to entertain, others realise that pushing their boundaries is something that these celebrities love doing. It is clearly something which gives them an adrenalin Blaine: Waiting for Dick Van Dyke rush like no other; something to pop up the spout that they wouldn’t change for the
NINETEEN
FEATURES
Under
Earlier this month daring journalists Ben Bryant and Amy Harrison braved the deep and mysterious Welsh waters Pentwyn Pool with Cardiff University Sub-Aqua Club. Here’s how they got on...
Ben’s Scuba Story
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’ve always wanted to scuba dive. Ever since I strapped a snorkel on my face and went bobbing around the local beaches in the summer, I wanted to go deeper. We weren’t exactly diving for wrecks, but hey, you have to start somewhere… There was something very mysterious about the whole experience. We met behind Talybont gym at night in a warehouse room that I didn’t even know existed, chock-full of scuba equipment. The leaders were wearing customised hoodies with quasi-sexual slogans: ‘deeper… darker… longer’.
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It’s a liberating feeling... probably about as close as you get to flying It was pretty exciting. I felt a little bit like James Bond while they briefed us, except that we were about to go and check out some
TWENTY
pool grout rather than bust an underwater laboratory. Anyway, scuba equipment is very heavy – probably around 50kgs – and there is something very disconcerting about wading into a pool with 50kgs on your back. Not to mention the fact that you have to do it backwards, because you’re wearing flippers. I had visions of myself toppling over and just sinking to the bottom, sucking on my air supply, until they drained the pool to heave me out. Of course, when you’re in the water it’s a different story. I inflated my lifejacket and, suddenly, I was weightless. I was moonwalking. My instructor, Jess, was very friendly and extremely helpful – there’s a great ‘teamwork’ ethic in the society. She showed me some signals (‘OK’, ‘up’ and ‘stop’), and before long I was swimming along beside her underwater. It’s a liberating feeling, especially with flippers on. It’s probably about as close as you get to flying. OK, it was only a swimming pool (look, a plaster!), but I was already getting a taste for the real thing. They also sneaked a few photos of us. Posing for a photo was a little like trying to smile with a banana in your mouth. I think I ended up making ‘Cowabunga’ signs at the camera. Pretty cool. A few skills later, and it was all over. Watch out Titanic wreck, Ben and Amy are on their way.
Amy’s Scuba Story
E
ver since I watched The Little Mermaid, the thought of swimming under the sea with Flounder has always appealed. Then, I discovered that the sea was actually inhabited by slimy things with sharp teeth and poisoning capabilities. The beach became far more attractive. But the charm of swimming under water without worrying about breathing still appealed to me. When the opportunity arose to try scuba diving I jumped at the chance. If I could get used to the complexities of the equipment, in a relatively safe environment, I would then be able to progress to diving with uber scarey killer fish, maybe...? Walking up to Talybont to join the club I really began to get scared. Not about the fish, obviously the only sealife I would be seeing would be plasters, toenails and maybe a penny. Instead the ‘what ifs’ began: what if my air tank is empty? what if I get claustrophobic? what if I can’t breathe? Arriving at the lock up I wasn’t reassured. “These cylinders have the power to break through solid brick walls.” What was I letting myself in for? Before I knew it I was donning a mask and flippers. I was petrified about the big air cannister that I would shortly be swimming with. My instructor Bob was really
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the sea reassuring. He let me do everything at my own pace and explained everything thoroughly. It began with simply submerging my face and getting used to breathing. In no time I was ready to go down. Mentally I was all ready, but there was the slight problem that I couldn’t master the art of sinking. There I was, with a massive wall-destroying tank on my back but my legs just kept on floating up. I was pulling all the toggles on my jacket to help me sink, but it just wasn’t working. Naturally I panicked and had to surface. Bob reassured me again and then I was ready to go back down. This time I managed to sink right to the bottom. After thirty minutes I wasn’t quite as good as a real mermaid but I was at ease with the whole thing. Bob actually got me to take my
Cardiff University Sub-Aqua Club CUSAC welcomes divers of all levels. If you’ve never dived before they offer a BSAC training course. Experienced divers are always welcome too regardless of what organisation they have previously trained with. This year is an exciting
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There was the slight problem that i couldn’t master the art of sinking mouthpiece out under water, breathe, then put my mouth piece back in again. I was so scared that the mouthpiece would fill up with water and I would swallow a mouthful. I managed this skill quite successfully and was so proud of myself. On the way home I was absolutely buzzing. I had successfully managed to scuba dive. If the opportunity ever arises for me to dive in an exotic coral reef I will definitely be having another go, scary fish, or no scary fish.
FEATURES
Comments from other first time divers “The try dive offered by CUSAC is an amazing opportunity to have a go at diving, especially as try dives are generally so expensive.” “It was so much fun. I’ve never been snorkelling so this was completely new to me, but I absolutely loved it. All the instructors were so nice.” “I can’t believe how fast the time went! I will definitely be doing some more diving. Last year I learnt to surf with the surf society; this year I’m definitely giving scuba diving a go.”
year for the club, as several of more experienced members have qualified as instructors, meaning they can train more novices. Throughout the year the club dives at wrecks nearby, as well as dive sites across the UK. They also offer an annual dive trip to the Red Sea. In the club you get to learn about about boat handling, VHF radio use, marine biology, and first aid, as well as diving.
www.stusoc.cf.ac.uk/suon/subaqua/ FEATURES@GAIRRHYDD.COM
TWENTYONE
REVIEWS
IN REVIEWS THIS WEEK
!"Music were there when the NME tour came to town !"Film investi" Books take on Angela Carter’s agate films on Albany Road !" " Arts look at the art scene !" " Digital on how to Halloween charm !" get things free on the internet
MARIE ANTOINETTE: Smut MARIE ANTOINETTE Dir: Sofia Coppola Kirsten Dunst, Jason Schwartzman, Steve Coogan, Rip Torn Out Now, 123 mins
The retelling of iconic but ill-fated French queen Marie Antoinette. From her betrothal and marriage to Louis XVI at 14 to queen consort at 19 and to her beheading in 1793 at the age of 38.
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ever one to start a film without making an impression, Coppola launches Marie Antoinette with an exhilarating chunk of jagged guitar chords and rumbling drum rhythm, courtesy of Gang of Four's Natural’s Not In It. The crux of Marie Antoinette is evident in this opening shot where Kirsten Dunst is at her most decadent, getting a manicure while living a life of leisure. This is the third of Coppola's trilogy about young women that are lost in life. The first in the trilogy, The Virgin Suicides, is an offering of rebellion, angst and beauty while Lost In Translation focuses on identity and the power of connections. Marie Antoinette may be a well-
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known story but Coppola chooses the young woman within that story as her focal point, and shies away from the expected political slant. We see Marie stripped of all her identity, most notably her clothing, rendering a shivering and naked Kirsten Dunst - surrounded by piefaced voyeurs - cradling her assets close to her.
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Rendering a shivering and naked Kirsten Dunst cradling her assets close to her As with Lost In Translation, Coppola chooses to tell the tale of a young woman growing up. However, there is difference in that Marie Antoinette has to grow up in an inevitably fatal environment that stems every attempt at her connection with another. With this come introspective shots of gazes and reflections, as well as shallow depth of field and distinct focal lengths. As with her previous work, this requires interaction from the audience, interpreting these looks and expressions, as everything isn’t given to you á la Jarmusch. This is astute subtle filmmaking at its best; evident from the fantastic use of hues and the art design that reflect the mood change over the narrative arc. Coppola is certain-
ly assuming an intelligent viewer. The critiques of Marie Antoinette are quite repetitive, slating it for its historical inaccuracies, its blatant mockery of the bourgeoisie, and its so-called ill-fitting soundtrack. This calls into question the preconceptions that people were under prior to a screening. Then again, the trailer did feature New Order wailing and the shots were “arty” and not archetypal period shots, so what gives? Not one to mismarket, Coppola consciously shuns conventions and instead uses the associations she has with the genre. This is reflected in the Badlands-esque exteriors, and the Amadeus-style comedy. By doing so, Marie Antoinette has a distinct style, making Coppola’s voice shine. Her artistes help reproduce her vision, Kirsten Dunst in particular, produces a nuanced performance showing remarkable vulnerability so very authentic you can’t help but sympathise with her character. In addition, Schwartzman excels as the poker-faced husband. Specifically in the bedroom scenes, you don’t know whether to laugh at his ineptness or to weep at the heart-breaking refusal of Dunst’s attempt at connecting with him. The pressures must have been huge for Coppola to give in to make something epic, however, she must be commended for directing a small, intimate and heart-breaking film. Ryan Owen
TWENTYTHREE
BOOKS This week in Books, Faith Giles tells us why Carter’s modern feminist fairytales are so influential, Natalia Popova explores the terrifying world of Bram Stoker’s spooky stories, Tom Williams writes a raving review of Medvei’s new novel Mr Thundermug, , Rebecca Shillabeer writes an exciting review of Half of a Yellow Sun, and Alex Mosley talks about a book that lives up to it’s name. Cheers! Dracula’s Guest and Other Stories Bram Stoker Penguin
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e all know Bram Stoker’s legendary Dracula, yet the man has written far more than that. This book, which includes ten short stories, gives the reader the opportunity to get to know the “demented Irishman” (as he was called by Louis in Interview with a Vampire) better, and was published by Stoker’s widow in 1914, two years after his death. In the first short story, Dracula’s Guest the protagonist takes us on a descriptive journey to an abandoned village on ‘Walpurgis Night’, when, according to the beliefs of millions of people, the devil was abroad - when the graves were opened and the dead came forth and walked. This is a classical gothic story, sending the familiar shivers down your spine every once in a while. There is a slightly disappointing and stagnant journey through the story, but it does have a rewarding ending. Unfortunately, following this is a rather weak tale, The Gipsy Prophecy,
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Stoker submerges the reader in the dreams of a mind haunted by fear and hope Next it was A Dream of Red Hands. “My hands were red; they glittered with blood… And the angels raised their flaming swords to smite me down…”This one is a story of passion, struggle and loneliness. It breaks away from the classical imaginative gothic writing. This gives a more natural and realistic feeling to it. Stoker submerges the reader in the dreams of Jacob Settle, a man with a troubled mind, haunted by fears and hope. He committed a crime and waits to be forgiven. Will he find his way to Heaven? This is in every way the highlight to the book. This is a mix of really great and less inspired short stories from the giant of Gothic that are well worth a read, but if you have already devoured Dracula then you might be disappointed. 7/10 Natalia Popova
WHITBY: Dracula’s favourite date destination
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Mr Thundermug
about a married couple that goes to a gypsy for a life-changing meeting. The ideas for this story are interesting, but there is a sense that Stoker was unable to formulate them. This is a disappointing attempt at humour in a gothic story.
Cornelius Medvei Fourth Estate
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n an unnamed, distant and bleak city, in front of a large wooden door, sits a baboon. Watching the world go by and scratching his balls, the world seems to just accept his existence in the city as a mere stroke of freak chance. That is until he asks a staring child, "What are you looking at?". Mr Thundermug tells the story of a journalist who catches a whiff of a news story about a talking baboon roaming the streets of the city and encountering all sorts of problems that such a creature would. Through court records, interviews and council documents, the journalist pieces together a portrait of Mr Thundermug’s time in the city, from his disputed arrival with his family, to his subsequent disappearance into obscurity. This novella could indeed be viewed as a reflection of intolerance, prejudice and the desperate quest to fit into a new society, but its fantastical nature suggests otherwise; this is simply a story about a talking baboon. Mr Thundermug is magically written, its surreal and whimsical premise never at once seems overtly fictitious when reading. The character of Mr Thundermug is crafted with such likeability and humanity that he could instantly obtain cult status. He is well-spoken, hilariously funny and blessed with a wholly unique wit. This small book is a quiet masterpiece, a perfect afternoon read (it is only 100 pages long). It is genuinely heart-warming and leaves the readerpondering the fate of Mr Thundermug, as if he truly is out there somewhere, roaming the urban wilderness. 10/10 Tom Williams
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BOOKS Half of a Yellow Sun Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie Fourth Estate
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himamanda Ngozi Adichie is a gifted writer most famous for the novel Purple Hibiscus, which was nominated for the Booker Prize. Adichie won the Hurston/Write Legacy award for debut fiction because of the strength in her writing when tackling complicated social and political issues of Nigeria. Her most recent novel Half of a Yellow Sun follows the lives of five main characters through the 1960s in a volatile and war torn Nigeria. Ugwa is the poor houseboy from rural Nigeria and Odenigbo is his master, a revolutionary campaigning to establish the independent state of Biafra in Nigeria. Olanno, his lover, abandons her privileged middle-class upbringing to support him, while living with Kainene, her twin sister and Robert, Kainene’s white lover. Through these diverse characters Adichie is tackling issues of class and race, and the way characters with completely different social standings and upbringings are united
That’s b*ll*ocks! Albert Jack Penguin Books
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collection of urban myths, conspiracy theories and old wives tales, this supposedly pocket sized book is less of a beguiling anthology of interest than an unnecessary selection of stories that have been told far too often. While it promises to lift the lid on these popular tales of kidney theft and exploding breast implants, the poor retellings littered with cry-outloud (in a bad way) puns often end with merely the author’s personal opinion as opposed to any real cer-
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though the horrors of war. The novel is full of contrasting and challenging ideas. Adichie plays with social preconceptions and different social opinions. The superstitious rural lifestyle of Ugwa is set against the modern middle-class city lifestyle of Olanna. Adichie also contrasts the domestic upheaval in the early 1960s, (where romantic relationships are the reason for dispute), with the violent battles in the late 1960s for political power. Western newspapers are cleverly used to show the difference between media representation of war and the more human representation of war shown by the characters in the novel. The use of complicated political details about the war become less relevant as the reader gets further into the novel. It is clear that whatever side the characters are fighting for both are being viciously attacked and suffering.
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mother is shot and Ugwa’s sister is brutally raped. There is a sense of emptiness in political victory as these characters still have to cope with their horrific experiences and piece their lives back together. This is a powerful novel about moral responsibility, the unfairness of war, class, race, colonialism and the savageness of human nature. Through the lives of the characters the reader is forced to face the harsh reality of war. 8/10 Rebecca Shillabeer
The reader is forced to face the harsh reality of war While the wealthy leader’s battle through complicated political jargon, Olanna’s pregnant cousin is tortured and murdered, Odenigbo’s elderly
tainty that could silence any nay-sayers you encounter. The truth of the matter is that these stories just don’t work in a book. It was perhaps interesting to discover that Churchill was a druid and that Hitler probably did only have one ball, but these stories should be part of your usual pub banter to be argued over with mates. As a result purchasing this book makes it seem as though you are swotting up just to be able to talk to people.
ADICHIE: Happy now
bizarre goings on described, the greatest mystery remains - £13 for this waste? B*ll*cks to that. 3/10 Alex Mosley
The truth of the matter is that these stories just don’t work in a book The book’s only possible use is as a gift or stocking filler to a distant relative. Very distant. But of all the
HITLER: Tyrant with only one ball
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BOOKS WOLVES: Big softies compared to Red Riding Hood
Fairies and feminism In true Halloween spirit Faith Giles explores the importance of Angela Carter’s modern fairytales
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ong ago, folktales kept alive by the oral tradition were infused with the darkest fears of the imagination; peopled with the sort of nightmarish creatures that made forests forbidding places to go in the dark. These stories survive in the literary canon in the guise of fairytales for children, revised over the centuries, leaving little of their original horror intact. That was until Angela Carter made them her own in her collection of tales, The Bloody Chamber. Few writers have reappropriated familiar stories in such a stylish and surprising way as Carter, or with the same wry sense of humour. A prolific author, she wrote novels, short fiction, several plays, the screenplay for the film The Company of Wolves, children’s books and many passionate pieces of journalistic prose. Much of her writing adeptly draws on diverse styles like fantasy, picaresque and Gothic horror and allusions proliferate to folklore and legend. Carter began publishing her work during the early 1960s and, like the disaffected ‘Angry Young Men’ of the late 1950s who sought to bring working-class issues into the realm of British culture, she was perceived as an anarchist. She extended the boundaries of received ideas and turned social and literary assump-
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tions on their heads. Her early novels, such as Several Perceptions, offer dark representations of Britain’s counter-culture, with a grotesque array of characters living outside of society. Our concepts of the nature of reality are thrown into doubt in her science fiction novels, such as The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman, where machines and people become indistinguishable. Nights at the Circus depicts a very literal interpretation of French poet Guillaume Apollinaire’s anticipation of the emancipated women of the future who would develop wings.
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Carter revels in the carnivalesque; her prose is rife with Freudian references Carter lived during the war years with her working-class, feminist grandmother, later claiming that her upbringing influenced her fictional female characters, who are often larger than life and in control of their own destinies. Her exploration of female sexuality is best demonstrated in The Bloody Chamber, where such stereotypes as innocent maidens and predatory beasts are overthrown. One of her Little Red Riding
Hood characters tames the wolf by jumping willingly into bed with him and the heroine of a Beauty and the Beast adaptation is magically transformed into a beast herself, hinting at primal desires within all of us. Carter’s writing erodes the distinction between ‘high’ and popular art; she revels in the carnivalesque and her prose is sensuous, ornate and rife with Freudian references. Sadly, she was never truly appreciated during her lifetime except by the enlightened few. Amongst those that admired her were her friend Salman Rushdie and Margaret Atwood, who praised her as a ‘born subversive’. She influenced many subsequent writers to work subversively with fairytales, but it would seem a bold writer who would wish to invite comparison with Carter. I personally love Carter’s fiction for its wry wit and sheer irreverence. Frequently bizarre, sometimes disturbing but always compulsive, her stories haunt the imagination long after reading them. Carter reminds us of a story-teller of a preliterary age and reading her fiction is a bewitching experience. She is never swayed from her central concern, the art of telling the story, the sound of spoken language and its power to seduce. Faith Giles
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MUSIC The Fratellis ambled onto the stage without the swagger or pretension of a typical rock'n'roll band, and launched straight into a sub-Britpop guitar riff that made everyone feel lively. The hairy Scottish trio (no Franz Ferdinand coiffeurs here) are often touted as the bright lights in the indie rock scene, but Zane Lowe's buddies really didn't show Cardiff anything that suggested that they deserved such heavyweight billing. Nodding along next to a tall man dressed in a stained nightgown and a pork pie hat, the songs were one-dimensional and alike, and however enthusiastic (and smashed) the audience were, it was difficult to remember any songs aside from the eponymous Chelsea Dagger. The problem with the Fratellis’ proficiency at creating catchy and energetic tunes is that it doesn't translate into a composite performance and put simply, very few will remember it as a seminal moment in their musical life. At times the band sounded slightly empty but this is Uni, and what the Rock'n'roll Riot Tour gave was a good night out with the added tension of a backstage bust-up between the Horrors and virtually everyone else. The tour is certainly off to a blistering start, in one way or another. Luke Rees
FRATELLIS: On A Hill
PHOTO: JAMES PEROU
NME ROCK‘n’ROLL RIOT TOUR
THE MACCABEES: Sober The Dykeenies supported with a tight, upbeat set, synthdriven art-pop featuring guitar riffs that rival any in terms of “hum-ability.” Having built up a healthy reputation on the live circuit in Scotland, the band will no doubt generate an enhanced fan base south of the border. With praise from Steve Lamacq and iconic producer Jim Abliss, the Dykeenies are well worth checking out. Luke Rees
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PHOTO: JAMESPEROU
PHOTO: JAMES PEROU
Stepping up to the stage armed with their youthful energy The Maccabees quickly whip the eager indie crowd up into a frenzy as they start their set. This quirky five-piece from South London have already made a name for themselves inside the new music arena through their crowd pleasing melodies and love for live music, “we’ve always been a live band and that was our goal when we started.” Immediately the White brothers’ intoxicating riffs blare out aided by the bittersweet lyrics of front man Orlando Weeks - who marches back and forth around the stage whilst chanting of Lego, scalectrix and bicycles. All this is enough to fill the floor as the quintessentially English songs of X-ray, Latchmere and First Love are thrown in, “we just write about what we know and we enjoy seeing people singing along, it’s the only real reflection of what people think of you really.” Richard Dryden Appearing on the front cover of NME after only four songs is a honour reserved for those striking a chord with the underbelly of youth culture; not exactly the first words that come to mind after an encounter with the obscure, stylised band The Horrors. Starting out in London’s grotty South End “discussing the quality of fine pork sausages” they have undergone a speedy rise to fame through their ambiHORRORS: Raaa tious gig booking after only four rehearsals. Nothing at all to do with the fact James Oldham, who runs their record label, used to edit for NME, “he has no swing there,” Spider Webb assured. The beginning of their NME tour set was a blink and you’ll miss it affair with more strobe lights than a dodgy rave. Naming a broad range of sounds as their influence, including punk and blues it seems their songs, all four of them are just that; a broad range of sound and at times noise. Their impressive on-stage personas added stage presence, yet rather than whipping the crowd of 30 into a frantic frenzy, caused bemused and slightly confused looks on their little faces. The contorted figure of Spider Webb coupled with Faris Rotter’s mid-set nosebleed added an eerie element to their bizarre performance. Rotter’s screeching vocals led the crowd on a twisted yet short musical journey. With bass and guitar provided by Josh and Tom, musically the sound was lacking originality and effort, with barely a bead of sweat forming on their perfectly hair sprayed coiffures. They not only have an album in the pipeline but also a collaboration with Dizee Rascal, “the most punk thing to happen in British music” and aspirations of their ‘own personalised stationary’ expect nothing but music and mischief. Nicole Briggs
TWENTYSEVEN
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GOO GOO DOLLS The Great Hall
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peel off IN THE NAME OF from the FAITH/HONOUR onslaught, AMONGST NONE they break it Clwb Ifor Bach down so October 20 soft but intense melody wraps itself around the music before !KABLAMO! and the foot is back on the distortion peddal. They wrap up their set with a blistering doom creshendo and set the level for c boys Catholi : H Honour Amongst None. IT A OF F NAME A short break crammed IN THE some versitility with a with a selection of some drummer/singer swap for a couof the best Metal on the ple of tracks so the giant, market and it’s Honour Amongst mohawked kit-man could take to the None’s turn. Not to be out-heavied mic.So the metal has finally arrived. by the youngsters they crank it up Let’s hope it stays. Mike Richards and roar it out. They manage to add
PHOTO: AV ALYN BEAR E
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ou don’t get a lot of Heavy Metal in this town, and this of course, is a terrible thing. But it makes it all the sweeter when In The Name of Faith and Honour Amongst None come to tear it up at Clwb Ifor Bach. The show was hosted by the University’s heavy metal society, GRIMSOC, so there was no doubting that the clientel liked it heavy and loud. So it’s no accident that that In The Name of Faith have these attributes in spades. They thunder through a veritable schmorgasboardof of brutal riffs as the charasmatic front-man growls over them and stares down the crowd with a savage distain. And just when you think the skin from your face is about to
PHOTO: SARAH DAY
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October 12
et me make one thing clear. Johnny Rzeznik is a ponce. Walking onstage in a black wife-beater with his pouffed up hair like a bad Bon Jovi wannabe, I can’t help but feel the utmost contempt for this OTT caricature. But he is charismatic. The easiest way for an American to get on my side is to insult America. Which he did – “I hate to say this…but I think we just need our asses kicked”. Trite, but still refreshing. He also knows exactly how to own the stage, getting the entire audience to sing along to the chorus on Iris. Disappointingly, Rzeznik didn’t seem capable of hitting the high notes like he can in recordings, which ruined Black Balloon. He may just be a lazy tosspot. Who knows? It wasn’t all bad though. Robby Tarac did his ‘I am the manic bassplayer, look at me’ thing which made me smile, as did his performance of January Friend. There was also some bad-ass mandolin playing on Iris and sax on Broadway delivered by the generic faces relegated to the back of the stage too. The sad fact is I just can’t bring myself to like The Goo Goo Dolls. And I can’t hate them either. They’re like the rock version of Dido – completely bland and entirely forgettable. Dave Sadd
TWENTYEIGHT
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GOO GOO DOLLS: Eye sore
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James bursts onstage with fire in his eyes and a combustible potency in his veins JAMES DEAN BRADFIELD Solus October 16
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onight’s gig is nothing less than spectacular. James bursts onstage with fire in his eyes and a combustible potency in his veins. The songs from his debut album are injected with passion, spirit, and a sense of integrity that portray a man at ease with himself and with performing to a relatively intimate audience. As the embodiment of style, poise and laid-back confidence he appears to be in his element - delivering all the soul, anthemia and adrenalinefuelled rock you’d expect from the
Ever y Facto Monday n unsig r y LMS pu ight at Fun room.ned band t on a live in the This w side eek w as: The S ed Ind hakes: G up a ie group. P irl frontpar ty. utting
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driving force behind Wales’ most influential band. On Saturday Morning We Will Rule The World careens with invincibility, counterbalancing vibrant keys with atmospheric vocal harmonies. Under a stark spotlight James treats his attentive audience to a string of acoustic Manics’ songs mid-set, and, by a way of a singing crowd, unifies the element in us all that resounds a single communal voice. The acoustic A Design For Life has rarely sounded so poignant; stripped down to its barest elements - pure sound, pure light, and a heartbreakingly beautiful voice charged with immense intensity of emotion. The evening is brought to a close with No Surface All Feeling, which, lets face it, is what James is all about. Ria Poole
MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM
MUSIC
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MYSTERY JETS: Orchestral
MYSTERY JETS/JEREMY WARMSLEY Glee Club October 18
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KOOKS: Are the Walrus
PHOTO: JAMES PEROU
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esembling sweaty eccentric Just William types, Larrikin Love stamp their own brand of gypsy punk jig. The charismatic Ed is in fine vocal form and an indie shindig erupts to Happy As Annie, a frighteningly joyous tale post-mortem. B-side Cucumber causes albion to self combust and if Larrikin believe that England has nothing left to offer (Downing St Kindling), then de-wax your ears. More cowbell please! The lights dim as Luke Pritchard croons opener Seaside which the crowd holler back gleefully. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, presenting The Kooks, you’d be forgiven for not believing the hype: until now. They are like their pristine CD, but
better, tight live and with crisp vocals and rockabilly jerk by the bucketful. Eddies Gun is chanted as they run away with it, impotence never seeming so infectious. Casually throwing in She Moves In Her Own Way, this summers prominent radio-botherer, they perspire attitude and confidence with good reason. Naive is thrown in for good measure with absolute adoration. The hits keep coming, Ooh La demanding a sing-a-long, willingly obliged, the Great Hall turning into en-masse skiffle dancing. Of course there is the rudimentary encore, begun with Pritchard solo, greeted by nothing short of silent awe. As much as people feign to hate/envy them, You Don’t Love Me is undeniably catchy and the perfect blend of bitterness and pop to end a night. Yet there is still more gas in the tank as Luke rides high on audience shoulders to a raucous finish. The mania has only just begun. Emily Kendrick
stage, Mystery Jets are a band that can be confused with no other, but from when the drumbeat of Scarecrow kicks in all aesthetic quirkiness is forgotten. While the acoustic nature of the set means that The Boy Who Ran Away is zapped of its chaotic energy, other songs, particularly Diamonds In The Dark, realise their melodic potential. Throw two Syd Barrett covers and five new tracks into the mix and what you’re left with is a show of shambolic yet blissful harmonies, which somehow manage to create an ambient night of glee. Guy Ferneyhough
lee is not a venue accustomed to nights of raw indie, In fact, with its over-priced bar, chic lighting and extravagant fountain in the toilets, it’s the last place you’d expect to find EEl Pie Island’s finest, MysteryJets. Before they hit the stage the prodigious Jeremy Warmsley warms up the crowd. With his introspective folk anthems of modern life, the personable Camden troubadour soon has the all seated audience transfixed and delivers an impressive set. For this point in their career an acoustic tour seems an astute move by the Jets; a chance to further difMJs: And the wailers... ferentiate themselves from the curent indie crop. On appearing on
PHOTO: LUKE PAVEY
DJ Yoda is never the same twice. Due to situation or (mental) state it’s an experience which always brings out something new, in mind and matter. Peadling the latest innovation in DJ-tastic experiences in the Great Hall, Yoda spins webs of old-school through theme tune via hilarious voxpop over funky bass and back again. Each solid gold pop to funk nuggets thronging amidst the masses below, zinging off the walls and ears alike. Combined with well-timed and intelligently formed cut ’n’ paste video clips, showcasing skills and keeping eyes, as well as feet, busy. The sheer volume of tunes, each more spot on than the last, can make dancing a discipline in itself. But that’s what they invented vodka for, so dance! Sofie Jenkinson
October 10
PHOTO: LUKE PAVEY
The 200-strong crowd outside the Union queuing from seven pm to try and get their hands on the few remaining tickets to Bass Invaders that go on sale at nine tells the story tonight. The annual Bass Invaders is the essential night for anyone with a penchant for blasting beats and a boogie. And with tonight’s all-star line-up, Rahzel, Roni Size and co raise the bar yet again. The set opens with two of the best hip-hop acts on the road at the moment. Moneyshot holds the atmosphere as the Great Hall starts to fill, before bowing out to beat-box God Rahzel from the (self proclaimed) legendary Roots. With his DJ JS1 behind him the mood builds and builds until his final song If Your Mother Only Knew has his audience chomping at the bit and ready for the Drum and Bass onslaught. Andy C, Roni Size and Pendulum would feature on anybody’s list of Drum and Bass heroes, and there wasn’t a hint of them disappointing their sea of fans tonight through the constant strobe and sound. But it’s over now. Hell, you’ve got to look on the bright side; only 51 weeks to Bass Invaders. Mike Richards
THE KOOKS/ LARIKIN LOVE The Greast Hall
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MUSIC
THE COOPER TEMPLE CLAUSE CF10 October 13
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ecurity's tight tonight in CF10. The tightest controls are out to prevent overcrowding. Tour managers are required for listed photogpaphers to take pictures of the ‘artiste’. Bloody hell. Who are we watching here? Robbie? Madonna? The Floyd? No, actually it’s er, Wokingham’s finest – the mighty Cooper Temple Clause. Who simp ly cannot be serious. Anyway that aside, the Coopers haven’t been around for a while but their odd indie-come-prog-comedance sound is still as impressive as it is sinister on tracks from new album Make Your Own - and if that’s your thing, who's bothered about headlining arenas? Oldies Been Training Dogs and Music Box match the band’s swa gger and, despite Didz Hammond
THIRTY
PHOTO: JAMES PEROU
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he 2006 MTV2 Gonzo tour drags yet another miniature throng of hot-to-trot musical acts into Cardiff barfly on the flailing train of honour in its wake. Love Is All clatter onto the tiny stage; all saxophones blaring and side step dancing, mustering up the kind of joyous enthusiasm that their music demands from the off. The quirky soundtrack to life that seems so right on nights full of excitement like this one. The main lady of the night comes shrouded in mystery and the kind of morbid fascination that goes hand and in hand with female beard enthusiasts. From the stripped down rap based opening bursting from her whisker-speckled lips, Peaches commands every second of attention. Melting aggressively into a full in force band peppered with space suit
clad institutions in themselves, including Le Tigre’s JD Samson. Deep shades of erotica smudged over every song and war paint style make-up over the faces. A woman so innately sexual that no amount of facial hair or muck can stand in the way, not even dressing up like a giant hot dog manages to take anything away from the sexy aura that surrounds her. This is dirty sex music á la Death From Above 1979, the kind only angry Canadians seem to do this well. Fragmenting into a ruckus of ridiculous acrobatics and sparkly pink underwear, consistently stabbed through with bone shatteringly innovative and sublime vocals. Hanging from the light fittings, screeching and writhing around with all the menace of a vampire bat, she brings an immense set down to it’s death throes with her bear hands. Scarily amazing from begining to end. Sofie Jenkinson
leaving to join Dirty Pretty Things earlier this year, the Cooper's shared bass duties are positively deafening – especially in CF10 where noise careers of the low ceiling. They may have ceased to be a biggish draw, superseded by the indie-lite of the likes of the Kooks but the Coopers' sonic aggression is still evident. Question is - does anyone care anymore? Will Dean
TCTC: Shady
PHOTO: ED SALTER
TOUR: MTV2 GONZO IS LOVE S ALL/PEACHE 14 r be to Barfly Oc
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HOT CHIP s Bristol Anson Room October 9
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he Hot Chip party is in full effect on Monday night, with five nerdy electro kids from Brighton injecting the funk electro mish-mash into the Anson Rooms, with the aim of breaking the crowd’s necks, metaphorically speaking of course. It feels like there could be cake and balloons and laughing gas, everyone’s at their eighth birthday party, except the low quality pop music has been replaced with drum machines, synths and a host of other electrical gadgets pounding out kick in the balls, head bobbing, foot tapping electro madness. Its nigh on impossible not to dance at this gig, when the Hot Chip boys start fiddling with various knobs (…) to start Over and Over the crowd jump about madly as though Clint Eastwood is shooting at their feet, come to think of it the snapping of the electronic snare could easily be gun shots, although obviously they’re not. That would be mental. Will Hitchins
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MUSIC
Unholy Matromony Halloween is upon us: evil spirits are breaking free. James Mortimer tracks their menacing journey as the Unholy Alliance gets ready to haunt the CIA
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nholy means something that is not holy, like monsters and stuff and alliance means people forming a club, like The Breakfast Club, that film…” (P Howarth, In The Name Of Faith). Fortunately, unlike the film, this alliance is not made of wimpy litle frat brats. This is an alliance that tears across America and Europe like Hurricane Katrina only instead of water there is the same volume of Jagermeister. In 2004 the CIA was graced with the presence of Slipknot, Slayer, Hatebreed and a relatively unknown band called Mastodon - a VERY intimidating line-up. This year, the year of the six, it returns and with it brings to our shores: Thine Eyes Bleed, Lamb of God, Children of Bodom, In Flames and headliners Slayer. As two years
previously The Unholy Alliance provides a chance to glimpse the upand-coming bands, without major recognition in the UK, alongside the current ‘saviours of metal’ and the old guard. Thine Eyes Bleed are possibly most famous for their bass player’s brother (Tom Araya from Slayer), which seems unfair when one actually listens to their music as they are pretty fucking good! In the same vein as tour mates Lamb of God, they maintain skullripping speed and yet retain a sense of unpredictability through their technical abilities. It is safe to say that they have not quite hit their stride in the same way as Lamb of God, but hell, it took them over 10 years of serious graft and with so many shows under their belts they are a live force to be reckoned with. In Flames are sure favourites to win
LAMB OF GOD Sacrament
In wolf’s cloathing
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Leaves you feeling like someone just sandpapered your brain flat However it is Slayer’s name that will be screamed throughout the gig, and to be honest there is not much that can be said about Slayer that hasn’t been said. It is pure, noholds-barred speed and aggression that leaves you feeling like someone just sandpapered your brain flat.
Quench undertakes the gouling task of finding the essential tracks of Halloween...
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he intro soars, it takes you higher and higher and up into the heavens. This somehow seems apt as Lamb of God’s popularity among critics and fans has done the same in the years since the release of Ashes of the Wake. After years of toil, LOG seem to hit their stride leaving one to think of their previous contemporaries: Shadows Engage, Killswitch Forbid was it? Anyway… high in the heavens, gliding on guitars, the distant trickle of kick drums and then, oh fuck, AND THEN Walk with me in Hell breaks loose. Relentless. Technical. Brutal. The kind of music you put on when you’re pissed, by yourself, at 2am and want to jump around like a gibbon with a stomach full of some-
the crowd over. They have seen their popularity rise in the past few years and have perfected their live performances.
LAMB OF GOD: Wooly thing not for monkeys. Redneck, quite simply, has a groove the size of the Marianna Trench, retaining the crushing power found seven miles deep. Make no mistake, if you want to buy a metal album, THIS IS IT. It is metal as fuck. Maintaining the speed of Slayer and the heaviness of Roots era Sepultura, LOG still manage to load
1. Deamon Cleaner by Kyuss 2. The Goast of Tom Joad by Springstien 3. The Monster Mash by Bobby Pickett 4. Evil (is goin’ on) by Monster Magnet 5. Burn The Witch by Q.O.T.S.A 6. Thriller by Michael Jackson 7. Ghosts Along the Mississippi by Down 8. Vampira by Devon Townsend 9. Ghostbusters by Ray Parker Jr 10. Tubular Bells by Mike Oldfield 11. Hell’s Bells by AC/DC 12. Evil Woman by Black Sabbath 13. Cowboys From Hell by Pantera each song with infectious hooks that scream, in the words of Po, “Again again.” You want speed? You want heavy? You want musicianship? You want Lamb of God. 9/10 James Mortimer
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MUSIC BRAINTAX Panorama
Low Life Records
everything began to sound the same. It seems as though he used up all the good melodies in the first half of the album, leaving little scraps of mediocrity for the second. Oh well, never mind. 5/10 Matt Hitt
Pickled Grey Matter
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hen it comes to the UK hiphop scene you need to have credibility. Braintax has claimed his fair share with the success of his Birofunk debut and collaborated material with Task Force and Mud Family. Fiercely attacking the government and world leaders alike with political and social issues armed with his mic and experimental beats, gives the notoriety that Panorama is not another ‘guns and hoes’ album but more of a street voice for contemporary debates surrounding racism with AntiGrey, and war with The Grip Again (A Day in the Life of a Suicide Bomber). The influential Yorkshire-based rapper offers up a mixture of beats and scratches to keep the music varied and includes appearances from Jehst, Skinnyman and Mystro. The record’s original style and high-quality production show how his music has matured allowing Braintax to prove himself worthy as one of the most talented lyricists that so many wish to imitate. 9/10 Richard Drydon
JEREMY WARMSLEY The Art of Fiction Transgressive Warm Tea?
I
really wanted to love this little nerd’s album. Indeed, upon pressing play I was confronted with a lashing of pop genius in the form of Dirty Blue Jeans. With all that lovely violin and flute piping out of my speakers I prepared to absorb all the joviality J-Wo had to offer. Unfortunately by track five I was scratching at my eardrums as his piercing voice finally started to get to me in the same way listening to more than one Rufus Wainwright track at a time does. Worse still, the slick electro-production formed an audio version of Clingfilm around all his songs and
THIRTYTWO
“
I really wanted to love this little nerd’s album THE LONG BLONDES
Someone to Drive You Home Atlantic
sings of, Once and Never Again asuperb mantra for the new age female. Let’s not forget our male counterparts. They do make an appearance on You Could Have Both, the finesse in this album which culminates in a Pulp-like dialogue halfway through. The compulsion to strut and shout is overwhelming with the majority of songs being instant dancefloor fillers, such as Weekend Without Makeup. Those that tempt a quick skip over are more than worthy of manuscript with observations charmingly accurate. Painting herself hopeless youth then 50s femme-fatale in three-minute stomps - certainly one to keep a canny eye on, as you should with this band, set to explode Britain. 9/10 Emily Kendrick
Brown haired dwarves
G
irls have a mental preoccupation with men (well, heterosexual ones at least), settling down, expectations, jealousy and booty shaking. So for all the fashionista elements that The Long Blondes emulate, this album shows they are fundamentally like the rest of us - just a bit more articulate. A raw edge remains with screeching guitar feedback on opening track Lust in the Movies reassuring they've lost none of their urgency or ability to fit Edie Sedgwick into compelling Britpop. Kate Jackson teeters on the brink of registers like the frantic teenagers - she
BADLY DRAWN BOY Born in the U.K. EMI
Englishman in New York?
D
amon Gough’s self-confessed Bruce Springsteen obsession has got the better of him at last, it seems. Not content with using a line from Born To Run on Everbody’s Stalking (from his debut album), he’s now named an album in homage to ‘The Boss’. Born In The UK is a witty, introspective take on modern British life. The overall sound, however, is noticeably more commercial than Gough’s previous work. While the idiosyncracies of his songs have not been entirely extinguished, it has a shiny pop sheen that seems to be intent on flirting with Radio 2 audiences. That said, there are some fantastic songs on this album, namely the country-edged The Way Things Used To Be and the final track, One Last Dance. A beautiful songs about his wife, ‘One Last Dance’ captures Badly Drawn Boy’s qualities, delicate, honest and quirky lyrics sung with real feeling. There’s even room on it for one last Springsteen reference: “And if we still don’t have a plan, we’ll listen to Thunder Road.” Good sentiment indeed. Overall a good album, but not great. 6/10 Simon Eckstein
MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM
MUSIC DEPECHE MODE Greatest Hits: Volume 1
BRAKES The Beatific Visions Rough Trade
Mute Records The opposite of silence
R
Music go to the movies...
ight. Words that spring to mind when you think of Depeche Mode? Dark… electronic… synths… beats… greatness? And you’d be right in thinking that. The Greatest Hits introduces the listener to a world of shadowy electronic soundscapes, punctuated with sweet pop synths and haunting industrial drum patches. That doesn’t mean it’s just full of beeps and electronic glitches. No, no; the opening five tracks on the album serve as a reminder of just how good a singles band they actually are. Still, the omnipresent Personal Jesus shines through as the highlight of the album, despite Marilyn Manson’s attempted murder of the track. This is so electronic I’m surprised they aren’t robots. 7/10 Michael Bateson-Hill
JURASSIC PARK
John Williams
J
ohn Williams, the most prolifically phenomenal film composer of the modern era renowned for his loyal commitment to director Steven Spielberg has created numerous iconic and memorable scores, Jurassic Park is no different. Some may think that this score doesn’t have the same resonance as Jaws, Star Wars or Schindler’s List but once the haunting beat of the opening titles begins you’re sucked into the world of Williams with the atmosphere of the film flooding back to the minds of viewers. Williams has a remarkable ability to create thematic music that
MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM
Porcupine or Pineapple?!?!
The trail continues as Quench keeps on scouring Cardiff and surroundings for the best acts around. The second of our local heros are psycadellic rock masters Bomb The Sun. So check out the lowdown on the forthcoming EP from the Swansey three-piece...
BOMB THE SUN Bomb the Sun EP
B
rakes have always been fun like Lego, but now they have matured like cheese as well. And so what we have is something along the lines of Cheesey Lego. A deft fusion of classic Brakesesque jiggery-pokery, heartbreaktinged nostalgia and the sublimely ridiculous, all in the key of country. Spiked through with Eamon Hamilton’s quite exceptional vocals. Opener Hold Me In The River characteristically bursts through the door in a way only this throng of uncompromising chaps can, while Mobile Communication, opaquely reminiscent of bigger more scottish indie supergroups, maintains a uniquely gentle style and Porcupine or Pineapple? continues in the hilarious vain of previous greats, tickling pink. No Return nestles deep in the most secret nook of every heart, where torture and the mild obsession of heartache reign, pulling the twists and turns of this project into a neat little ball of genius. Brilliant brilliant brilliant, full stop. 8/10 Sofie Jenkinson fits the film perfectly echoing in the memory, proving his music as not merely an accompaniment to film visuals. This score has amazing diversity, from its frightening horror haunts, to its eccentric action adventure bursts and most excitingly with its fantasy ingredient including the basic theme. This theme is a choral string piece that is surprisingly romantic and even played with some gentle piano. This score includes intricate instrumental work with orchestral depth like bold brass, native booming drum beats and powerful strings. The element of wonder is created to perfection, while the tension as a listener is scarily impressive. This is a monumental score made of T-Rex proportions. Matthew Tozer
TBA
George’s next challenge
M
y first run-in with Bomb The Sun’s debut venture was a copied CD with a barely legible e-mail address scrawled on the front. It was given to me by another Swansea band currently climbing their way to heroic local status. It’s now almost six months later and it looks like Bomb The Sun will at last be able to display what they’ve got to offer to all. The EP is a mere six tracks long, but this is an insignificant statistic. The movements of music flow over the track boundries and tend to break and morph at the most unexpected times. The EP is largely an instrumental catalogue of some of the grooviest blues-rock riffs your ears will ever have the delight to be punished by. This is offset by inventive, psychedelic leads lurching over and around the groove. And when singer/guitarist Alex does let us hear his voice it carries a heavy and intence, but perfectly melodic quality. This is demonstrated in a way that will make the toughest of big Rock bastards tremble at the knees on the spliffriffspacetastc Not Waving but Drowning. If the live show even scratches the surface of the mastery of this EP then only a fool would miss it. So don’t be a fool and clear a space in your diary to catch Bomb the Sun in Pontypridd at Tom’s Bar. 9/10 Mike Richards
THIRTYTHREE
MUSIC
singles singles singles singles singles singles THE RACONTEURS Broken Boy Soldiers
THE FRATELLIS
My initial reaction to Broken Boy Soldiers was; repetitive. However, after listening a few more times I decided I liked it. The pace is playful and energetic which seems to complement Jack White’s voice. I think it’s going to be a record which grows on people the more they hear it. 7/10 GC
Henrietta sticks to the blueprint of the previous singles, with a heavy, fast baseline that sets the Fratellis apart from similar acts. Its snappy, quite shouty, lyrics will have you jumping up and down, or at least chair-dancing. 8/10 CJ
Third Man Records
PANIC! AT THE DISCO I Write Sins Not Tragedies Virgin Records
Panic! At The Disco are not the most intelligent band, but they manage to perfectly blend the angst of emo and anthemic powerpop to create this slightly over-polished threeminute romp. The lyrics are not a hotbed of wit, but you get to say ‘goddamn’ every 30 seconds, and everyone likes casual blasphemy. 7/10 MB
MOISTBOYZ That’s What Rock ‘n’ Roll Can Do Schnitzl
Fun and Groovy. Ween side-project Moistboyz just make you feel damn good. Lace up your dance shoes and paint the town brown 9/10 MR
30
Monday UNHOLY ALLIANCE at CIA (£30 adv.) [The metal gig of the month. Fast and brutal]
3
Henrietta Universal Island Records
WE ARE TREES Piece Of Plastic/Trace Plug Two
Like a psychedelic time warp Piece of Plastic wheels around as their own pleasantly repetitive magic roundabout. Trace contrasts with Coral-like skiffle jerkiness, minor harmonies eerily weaving through both.6/10 EK
RADIO 4 Packing Things Up On The Scene Astralwerks Records
Radio 4 are at last back with a less experimental yet more focused and simplistic sound. With its synths and electronic atmospherics this Bowie and Talking Heads-influenced track is sure to provoke nodding-dog tendencies.6/10 SH
31
Tuesday ROOSTER at The Barfly (£10 adv..) [pretty rock boys. Very pretty indeed]
4
Friday PURESSENCE at Barfly [Classic Manchester sound. Classic Manchester hair]
Saturday COME PLAY at the Un ion (£3.50 NUS) [You all know what goes on here, do n’t you now...]
7
8
Tuesday Wednesday COSMIC ROUGH RIDER BLUE STATE UK at the Jazz S at Barfly (£7) [Don’t forget Cafe [Cool grooves to chill to to par ty hard tonight. It is, while you recover from the after all, official par ty day ] Party 7th]
THIRTYFOUR
TAPES ‘N’ TAPES Omaha XL Recordings
With the hype surrounding this band you would expect this single to be something special. Not so, however. This little acoustic number plods along not really doing much until the end of the song when it appears to be building up into something more exciting… and then it ends. Shame. 5/10 JA
ROBBIE WILLIAMS Lovelight EMI
Another attempt at dance music from Robbie: this time combined with an unnaturally high singing voice. Repetitive and irritating. Robbie should stick to what he’s good at. 4/10 LB
SLEEPY BROW FT PHARREL
Margahrita
Virgin Once there was a boy called Pharrel, who could cut a beat quite well. But money changes man so, Pharrel he took the dough, and this single can fuck off to hell. 1/10 WH
1
2
5
6
sunday RUSTED METAL play Clwb Ifor Bach [Apparently it’s booze free. Pah]
Monday THE HEADRONS play Barfly. [You just gotta trust me on this one]
9
10
Wednesday POPSCENE at Clwb Ifor Bac h (£3 NUS) three floors, six ceilings and over a hundred walls]
Thursday BOYS NIGHT OUT at Ba (£6) [Emo. Well, it’s like rfly marmite, isn’t it. Kids In Glass Houses support.]
Thursday CIRCULUS at Clwb (£6adv.) [Ye Olde shizbiz] TWISTED BY DESIGN at City Arms (Free) [DIY indiepop fest.]
Friday The Dudes Abide at Clwb Ifor Bach (£3.50) [Indie trouser-snake fun]
MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM
MUSIC MUSICAL METROPOLIS
MANCHESTER
S
to us we closed our eyes and each pointed to a recommended location for the night. As it happened, we ended up in a posh, pretentious bar called Lounge and then went to see the awesome stoner-punk band, Mondo Generator in an up-and-coming venue, named Roadhouse. Was my atrocious hangover worth it? Yep, because good music is fucking priceless. Whatever musical genre tickles your pickle you’re sure to find it in manc-town, where the scene is vast and ever changing: From indie to punk, manc-irish to manctronica, rock to pop, you’ll find it somewhere in the city of cocaine nights, trams and tea.
The new site, coming soon
www.quench.gairrhydd.com
tik t’kettle on cockeh.” I’m hung-over to shit and my come down has just begun.” The soft, dulcet Mancunian tones of my mate echo in my ears for a few minutes before I regain full consciousness. It’s 1300 hours on another wet Sunday afternoon in Manchester and my general perception of time is slightly adrift. The last two nights have been somewhat hazy. On Friday, we enjoyed the usual whisky and rock night down at 5th Avenue: a great Friday-night venue for anyone looking for 50p shots of tequila and dirty rock ‘n’ roll. Saturday nights in Manchester can be left up to fate. So, after chugging through a carton of cheap wine, downing a pint of milk and smoking a spicy cigarette, we left our humble abode. With two Stellas each and a pack of smokes on our person, we caught the 192 bus en route to the town centre. Spotting the local rag on the seat next
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NEW ORDER
New Order financed the Hacienda through the phenomenal sales of Blue Monday and although their music is mediocre now, they were definitely one of the best Manchester bands of the 80s with their refreshing combination of rock, pop and dance music. Rising from the ashes of Joy Division they shaped a new wave of music in Manchester that can be seen echoing through today’s pop-indie revolution.
THE SMITHS
Ultimately it was the Smiths, lead by Morrissey and Marr who defined the Manchester sound of the 80s. Although as a band they were short-lived, The Smiths influence on the Manchester scene lived a little longer, for it is with their alternative sound we find the roots of 90s BritPop.
THE FALL
If New Order and the Happy Mondays were the well performing, high-grade children at school, Mark E smith and The Fall are the bastard sons. Outlasting all of the others, this post-punk outfit have a true son of Manchester at their helm, a cunt basically.
OASIS
They said that they would be bigger than The Beatles. They’re not. But that doesn’t matter, as the Gallagher brothers and their henchmen set the stakes for all bad-tempered, beerswilling, cocaine-schnarfing Brit-Pop bands of today and yesteryear. (Definitely) Maybe the Oasis heyday is over, but if I say Manchester, you think of... Chris McConnell
THIRTYFIVE
ARTS
Smother me in kisses and call me Michelangelo! DOUBLE INCONSTANCY Wales Millennium Centre 12 - 14 October Don’t marry him, have me
S Save all your kisses for me
et in 18th century France, The Double Inconstancy tells the tale of a Prince who kidnaps a simple country girl, Silvia, to try and gain her affections and make her his bride. However, Silvia is devoted to her childhood sweetheart, Harlequin who she has promised never to betray, and this leads to a captivating battle of hearts. The palace becomes a labyrinth of deceit and seduction and trapped in its web of enchantment,
Silvia and Harlequin soon begin to question their love for one another. The play mixes bold characterisation and comic satire to mock the simplicity of the socially constrained characters. Set in a small, intimate theatre, the play was potent and entertaining. The whole cast were outstanding, each giving a unique, virtuous performance. Georgina Landau was fantastic as the pretentious seductress Lisette, inducing laughter with her comical facial expressions and body language. Kevin Drury was also excellent as the unsophisticated Harlequin, as was Tracey-Anne Liles as the Prince’s cunning advisor. The play was saturated with humour and staged skillfully, with all the characters in stunning period costume. The simplistic set design and minimal lighting focused attention on the acting, which was faultless. It was a witty and satisfying piece; a dynamic play that had its audience engrossed from beginning to end. Rebecca Child
The art scene GALLERY RECALL
Chapter Arts Gallery 6 October - 5 November
T
Lots of open space
his exhibition consists of an empty gallery space: a large sunny room with white walls and parquet flooring. I was greeted by a gallery assistance who invited me to walk with her around the space and recall memories of exhibitions I had seen and explain to her what thoughts this empty space created. It was a strange experience, but as I got over my initial embarrassment and tried to conjure up ideas, I found that my mind became full of images. A shamble of different artists’ work fluttered through the space I was walking around and as I attempted to tell the gallery assistant about this I became aware of how empty the space was. However, I was pre-occupied by the thought of whether this was truly art? I left feeling slightly disappointed about what I’d seen. In spite of this, on my walk home I realised that the gallery
THIRTYSIX
assistant was more the audience of this exhibition than I: she had to listen to all the ideas of those who visited the space. Curiously though, I did go home with a great wanting to fill the empty space, and discovered that the exhibition had affected me more than I had first realised. Lucy Perkins
GEORGE BLACKLOCK
BayArt Gallery 14 October - 11 November Michelangelo mash up
A
n important source of Blacklock’s work has been the iconography of religious painting and sculpture. More recently, however, he has made improvisations on Michelangelo’s Pieta sculptures. The colourful canvases investigate why Michelangelo took an axe to one of his creations and from this
Blacklock explores the links and ties between human and immortal, man and woman, and, so it would seem, yellow and blue. Blacklock’s tones are brave and engaging, shapes in duos recurring throughout his work. These bold line motifs are surrounded by fat and fine coatings of oil paint, daubed on then rubbed away to achieve an intriguing, layered effect. Some of the paintings take on spontaneity through colour and form while others are restricted by the artist’s meticulous direction of shape and meaning. The canvases are energised with delightful vibrant shades and can be read differently by each spectator. This is a visually striking selection where lively colours loop in layers through the canvas, which are eye-catching and indeed suggestive of hidden impulses found within all kinds of connections. Sarah Edmonds
ARTS@GAIRRHYDD.COM
ARTS ment of such a philosophy was especially evident in a painting like Cossacks (1910-11), which holds both representational and abstract elements within it. The wholly abstract later pieces such as Improvisation Gorge (1914) were almost bewildering in terms of their literal size and their visual scope and complexity. Moreover, the exhibition traced the impact of a series of traumatic events including the First World War, the rise of Communism and a permanent and painful exile from Russia, which added an extra dimension to the interpretation of many of KANDINSKY: pretty, swirly colours and stuff the closing paintings. These were typified by a painting like Circles On Black (1921) with an imposing presence of hard-edged geometric tion contained a number of striking THE PATH TO shapes, a break with bright primary landscapes Kandinsky had painted ABSTRACTION colours and an exploration of more of a small Russian town, Murnau, Tate Modern sombre shades, serving to evoke near the Bavarian Alps. Many, such June - October feelings of uncertainty. The contrast as Murnau- Staffelsee (1908), were of such a painting with Kandinsky’s characterised by their vibrant, block Kandinsky’s paintings early work perfectly parallels the use of colour and conscious drawing transformation of the social landof the eye to the dramatic skyline, scape which had occurred between framed and dominated by the towern bringing together such a large 1896 and 1921. ing mountains. body of Kandinsky’s work from When the Tate purchased The striking simplicity of 1896-1921, this exhibition providCossacks in 1938, Kandinsky at the Kandinsky’s early style parallels that ed a valuable insight into the shaptime commented: “It is the first truly of Russian folk art, one of his most ing and progression in style of one modern painting in the famous central stylistic influences. This simof the 20th century’s most prolific museum in London.” It seems only plicity is apparent in his glass paintabstract artists. ing of Two Girls (1917), which has an right and proper that his work should As well as offering the chance to again command centre stage at the unusual fairytale-like quality to it. see some of his most acclaimed Tate Modern sixty-eight years later. Such experimentation with differpaintings such as Cossacks and Juliet Chard Composition VII, it also encompassed ent media and styles perhaps highlights for the viewer Kandinsky’s cona number of beautiful and evocative landscapes from his early years as a tinuing concern for form and its transmission, which essentially drove young painter inspired by Monet’s his quest for visual harmony through haystacks. The first three rooms of the exhibi- abstraction. The ongoing develop-
Abstract and g l a m o ro u s
I
What’s on
AN INSPECTOR CALLS Sherman Theatre 8 - 11 November
GUYS AND DOLLS
Wales Millennium Centre 10 - 28 October musicality
N
ew York City in the 30s: Guys and Dolls tells the glamorous tale of a group of gamblers and the women in their lives. The story follows the luck of Sky, who bets that he can win the affections of the local straight-laced missionary. Meanwhile, gambler Nathan is faced with the demands of his fiancé Adelaide. As love gets in the way of gambles and gambles get in the way of love, we sympathise with these
ARTS@GAIRRHYDD.COM
comic, warm characters and can’t help but hope that their dreams will be fulfilled. Guys and Dolls is a great musical and I absolutely loved everything about it. From the clever insight it gives us into a world unfamiliar to most, to the clap-along music and high-spirited lyrics, to the great décor and costumes - it is a musical not to be missed! Roxana Tigelaar
A
young girl is murdered and an Inspector calls on a prosperous Yorkshire household to investigate the sad circumstances behind her death. Each one of the family has a secret - and each one is partly responsible for the girl's fate. This new production of Priestley’s post-war classic reveals the secrets and tensions hidden behind closed doors and gives a fascinating insight into class and conscience.
THIRTYSEVEN
FILM
F I L M
N E W S
film@gairrhydd Rusty Stankovich Film Editor
I
magine the scene, three drunken Quench editors stumble happily home after a night of inebriated dancing to 80’s power rock ballads at Barfly. Metres away from the safety of their home, one rather handsomely dressed editor is approached by a group of undesirables. Picture it now; dressed like a 1930’s English gentlemen, waistcoat, tight cut shirt, black silk tie, these untoward young men surround him and start putting their filthy hands over his perfectly fitting attire. “No,“ screams the terrified Scottish pansy, “not the waistcoat, I had this tailored on Saville Row”. But alas, a flurry of hands, a touch here, a stroke there, one too many meaningful gazes, it’s too late. Within seconds he’s naked bar the briefs, humiliated an lying in a South Glamorgan Council dumpster. On a side note this week film looks at bad movies, the ones that you never see or hear of until you buy them for 50p in SCOPE on Albany Road.
Coming soon... WHAT ELSE CAN WE SAY?
M ORE
This is the life. Getting in a few cheap beers from an ever-reliable Cathays off-licence, setting up the VHS and old-schooling it over Paul Anderson’s 1995 magnum opus with a few close friends. Shouts of ‘Get over here!’ and ‘Flawless Victory!’ soon follow..
Mortal Kombat!
Lukas Moodysson has made awesome films. The heartwarming Together, Fucking Amal (Show Me Love) and Lilya-4-Ever as examples. Then he got angry and made A Hole in my Heart (walked out) and annoying art flick Container. Mortal Kombat still rocks though.
L ESS Container
" Sympathy/Oldboy/Lady On DVD: ! The Green Mile: SE !" Vengeance boxset ! Peep Show seasons 1-3 boxset ! The Hills Have Eyes In cinemas: ! The Last Kiss ! Red Road ! All the King’s Men ! Marie-Antoinette ! The Guardian ! Container
THIRTYEIGHT
Vood-oooh Academy FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM
FILM Be afraid, for it’s nearly halloween, and Quench are raising from the dead all of our favourite, horrifically bad films. What’s that coming over the hill?...
A flock of
Seagals D
on’t get me wrong, here at the Quench film desk we know class when we see it. In fact, most of our time is spent sat here in the penthouse suite of the Students’ Union, wrapped in our dressing gowns, smoking fine cigars and discussing German expressionist cinema. We don’t, however, let that get in the way of enjoying ourselves with a little bit of filth every now and then. Personally, I’d describe myself as a true connoisseur of the ancient art of getting the beers in and watching shit action movies. This is because many years ago a friend of mine passed on to me a cherished secret of the film nerd fraternity: there is absolutely nothing funnier than a film that is unabashed bollocks. Take, for example, a personal favourite of mine, the John Woodirected, made-for-TV movie Blackjack. A film which is based around the central premise that the main character (Dolph Lundgren) is afraid of the colour white. Yep, no joke, the colour white (some kind of explanation is given involving a flashback to his father being shot while sat in a white car - it’s all pretty flimsy). This is all basically a setup for a climactic sequence that involves a fight with Dolph’s rival assassin in a white room. Full of milk. Even for a John Woo film, it’s spectacularly bad stuff. Yet Woo isn’t the only one involved to have a
FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM
bad track record. Before Blackjack you may have spotted Dolph Lundgren as soviet boxer Captain Ivan Drago in the sequel-too-far Rocky IV. There are a lot of bad sequels out there (Phantom Menace, Matrix: Reloaded, Jaws 3D; take your pick they’re all shit) but the fourth outting for Stallone’s Rocky is an impressive attempt for the title of worst sequel ever.
“
I am hoping that I can be known as a great writer and actor some day, rather than a sex symbol Steven Seagal
Basically it involves Rocky taking on and smashing the threat of communism blow by blow, round by round. It’s all capitalist propaganda
and Soviet stereotypes with no room for subtlety. Essentially it is the polar opposite of Arther Miller’s The Crucible. Brilliant. The hands down king of bad cinema is undeniably Steven Seagal. Although his most famous works are the Under Siege films, my personal recommendation is the spectacular Half Past Dead, in which the Stevemeister proves he really can’t play a Russian gangster at all. Truly one of the worst films ever made. Yet what really makes Seagal is the fact that he is not only an ass kicking action star but a vegetarian, eco warrior, Buddhist monk and rasta guitarist all rolled into one. He really does have it all. Ok, so some will argue that Van Damme and Chuck Norris can give Seagal a run for his money but after much debate we here at Quench have decided that Seagal could annihilate the both of them with his bulging, Commie-baiting cock.
Gem Ellis on why Festival is the worst film she’s seen this year.
Opening to relatively small audiences on its release, Festival had all the makings of a quirky, cult classic. An array of underrated but supremely fine examples of home-grown talent? Check. Produced on a (relatively) small budget? Check. Multiple narratives that provide the format with a bit of spunk? Check. But is it entertaining? No. For a film concerning the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, the movie itself is distinctly unfunny. The characters are ludicrously hyperbolic effigies (probably based upon what some bloke in a pub decided was eccentric) forced into a plot that’s thinner than Nicole Richie. Even the usually delectable Stephen Mangan (of Green Wing fame) couldn't save this one. Utter tripe.
THIRTYNINE
FILM
In search of the
The Quench Film team discover a love for obnoxious comedy, lethal fellatio and softcore, homoerotic horror porn
T
his Halloween we decided that it would be far too easy just to write 400 words about some horror films that we think are good. Instead, in the manner of great explorers such as Scott of the Antarctic or Captain Kirk we left the safety of the Quench office for the charity shops of Albany Road, in search of the cheapest, lowest quality DVDs Cardiff has to offer. With a budget of roughly £12 (we needed to keep money for beer and Ryan can’t walk past a Greggs without spending at least £2 on sausage rolls) to buy several DVDs we were really looking for the creme de la creme of modern cinema. You’d really be suprised about the kind of crap you can find when you’re actually looking for it. Cash
Voodoo Academy Voodoo Academy is 92 minutes of hardcore chest-rubbing and soft porn with six strapping young lads (with lip-gloss and eyeliner), no story-line whatsoever, extremely boring dialogues, a horny headmistress who likes cooking, a semi-sexy/semi-scary priest and squealing Voodoodolls. And, if you watch closely, the boom mike.
endured by
Natalia Popova
FORTY
DEMON HOUSE: Smut
Strange Bedfellows
One word. Poofter. Now imagine saying that for 97 minutes throwing in a few crikeys, an evil looking tax inspector and some pretty crazy stereotyping. It all adds up to an unpleasant movie experience really. Please Paul Hogan go back to wrestling crocodiles for kicks. Oh and the town is called Yackandandah. Hilarious.
endured by
“
Lee Macaulay
these films and they must cost money to make, so the makers surely can’t be making money out of them. Did the writers and directors of Demon House really think they were making a decent film? OK, so there is the argument that they could have all been made as some kind of tongue-in-cheek joke, but some of these films are pretty old looking, and as far as I’m aware irony wasn’t invented until 2004, and as yet, hasn’t been licenced for use in Hollywood. So we make our choices, first selection is low budget teen horror
“...some of the sexy scenes are alright...”
IMDB user review of Voodoo Academy
Converters was a goldmine. Still, as I hold in my hands the vast selection of tat and smut we have to choose from, a feeling of genuine concern begins to wash over me. See there’s two problems that play on my mind. Firstly, all these DVDs are second hand, which means some poor soul must have bought these first hand. They must have been purchased as a joke, right? But there really are a lot of them, which brings me to the second and more pressing problem: who the fuck makes films this bad? I mean, I haven’t heard of any of
VOODOO ACADEMY: Smut
FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM
FILM
worst... Demon House, which is soon accompanied by Strange Bedfellows, a kooky but shit-looking Austrailian comedy staring Paul ‘Crocodile Dundee’ Hogan. After dismissing, we settle on the promising Voodoo Academy, the hatefully painful looking Martians Go Home and, thanks to a generous donation from music editor Will, a film called Operation Hit Squad, which is an obvious bag-o’-wank.
“
“...mind blowing homoeroticism...”
a great day out for the Quench film section
Back in Ryan's boudoir, after a stop off for sausage rolls at Greggs, we slip on Voodoo Academy and settle down for a very manly session of beer and, what turns out to be, mindblowing homoeroticism. The opening credits give way to bad special effects which rolls into scene after scene of strapping men in baths having champagne poured on them, which seems to have the odd effect of making them touch themselves. Martians Go Home is far too
CHUCK NORRIS: Smut
Demon House A young, nervous nerd with a curtain haircut and passing resemblance to Anthony Michael Hall in The Breakfast Club has his gleaming, hardsteeled revolver pointed straight at the dome of the vampish Angela. His gun is fully loaded, cocked and ready to rock. He gulps nervously as she smiles at him, clasps his shaking hand into her own and begins to suck with the assured conviction of a dirty Jezebel upon the hard shaft, convulsed and moaning in delights unknown to common men. She removes her rouge lips from the pistol and proceeds to spit six shining bullets from her frothy maw into the hand of the aforementioned, over-awed geek. Shaken from this sordid act of industrial eroticism, she embraces the youngster and kisses him passionately, at which point her fork-tongue pierces his fucking skull. Demon House is full of such genius (and gratuitous tit flash, biggies and little 'uns). Kids spend a night in hiding from the law at a house that kills the fuck out of them. At one point, a girl who looks like Pink pleasures herself with a snake hand puppet that I'm pretty sure is meant to be an actual snake. Not convinced? eBay until your fingers bleed for this hidden gem.
endured by obnoxious to write about myself so I’ll leave it to someone else. Operation Hit Squad however, is a differrent matter. While we didn’t manage to sit though enough to write a full review, we did watch the last twenty minutes which is basically the best bit of sub-A-Team action crap you could possibly imagine. It has a man running around with a
Randy Quaid in Martians Go Home Last time most of us remember Randy Quaid is as the crazy father/ hero in Independence Day. After failing unsuccessfully to convince the world that he had been penetrated by an alien (haven't we all?) he flew into the bowels of the mother ship shouting “I'm Back!” or some such humorous quip. But this is not Quaid’s only alien outing, far from it. Before the penetration of Roland Emmerich's ID4 were a group of Green Martians, who were simply very, very annoying. No, really. That's the plot of the film. Martians come to earth and far from being dangerous or deadly they are just caricatures of various ethnic groups painted green. The New York Jewish stand-up, the Italian-American mobster, the fat guy, all are painted the colour of a rhododendron bush and splashed with the brush of bad humour. In one scene for example Quaid is trying to delicately bone his loved one when four Martians appear at his bedside, popcorn in hand, urging him on “You give it to her etc”. An hour or so, and a number of scenes later I am sure of one thing. This is definitely the most annoying film ever. Put it on loudly in the background when your flatmates are trying to work. It'll be fun.
endured by
Rusty Stankovich
FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM
Ewen Hosie
OPERATION HIT SQUAD: Smut group of middle aged house wives while cardboard boxes explode everywhere and people die spectacularly just out of shot. Then the hero gets dragged behind a light aircraft and dies. Classic. Demon House is horrifically filthy; a lady sucks off a gun and then other ladies get naked and afterwards I need to shower because I feel so smutty. Best of all, before the night is out we manage to befriend almost the entire cast of Voodoo Academy on myspace. Head to www.myspace.com/gairrhyddfilm to meet them too.
FORTYONE
FILM Dir: Andrea Arnold Starring: Tony Curran, Kate Dickie, Martin Compston Out Now, 113 mins
An introverted CCTV operator discovers someone from the past who she can’t allow herself to ignore...
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RED ROAD:
n assured debut from Andrea Arnold, Red Road is a film of intriguing contradictions, a tense drama, poignant mystery and psychosexual thriller all rolled into one. CCTV operator Jackie (Dickie) channels a high-tech Hitchcock-era Jimmy Stewart, as the slow-burning opening shows the isolation of her environment as she spies on an oblivious public. When she discovers a face she had previously committed to painful memory, she is compelled to stalk the citizen in question, a former criminal and occupant of the run-down Glasgow estate of Red Road. Using a firm set of Dogma-inspired cinematic rules called The Advance Party Project, Arnold crafts a singular tale documenting an unstable mind, drawing the audience until she reveals a shocking denouement transcending viewer expectations. Curran, Dickie and Sweet Sixteen’s Compston all turn in compelling, understated performances, while the director’s deft handling of sexuality is also impressive; with certain scenes proving more disturbing than erotic (deliveries by Curran are memorable in their honest but sordid frankness). Beautiful images saturate the frame, with supernatural soft lighting and naturalistic hand-held camerawork employed by Arnold to portray an otherworldly Glasgow rarely seen to cinematic audiences. Red Road can prove slow but it is one of the finest and most intriguing Scottish films since A road full of smut Ratcatcher. Ewen Hosie
Next Issue: Cardiff Screen Festival FORTYTWO
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FILM ALL THE KING’S MEN
THE GUARDIAN
Dir: Steven Zaillian Starring: Sean Penn, Jude Law, Anthony Hopkins
Dir: Andrew Davis Starring: Kevin Costner, Ashton Kutcher
Out Now, 140 mins
Based on the Pulitzer-prize winning novel by Robert Penn Warren, this Southern-set 1950s political thriller follows the rise of Willie Stark (Penn) into a powerful politician. Although his intentions are for the people, he struggles to hold fast against the corrupt nature of his profession.
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ean Penn stars as Willie Stark, a populist politician who wants to help the underprivileged people of Louisiana. With Jude Law by his side as Burden, he battles against his opposition, uncovering deception and subterfuge along the way. Zaillian evidently spent a lot of money and effort on beautiful location shots, an all-star cast and a cracking soundtrack. Perhaps he should have invested more in the glue to bond these elements together as All the King’s Men doesn’t flourish as a whole. The film opens dubiously with a voiceover from Law who, like most of the cast, hasn’t watched Forrest Gump quite enough to pull off the Southern accent. The screenplay and editing seem to mystify relationships and events rather than enlighten and I struggled to find any rapport between the two leads, making the first half of the film feel longer than it should, although events pick up considerably when Penn is finally given some liquor and a microphone. Patricia Clarkson contributes some much-needed spice and warmth as Willie Stark’s advisor/ mistress and Anthony Hopkins performs with his usual relish as Judge Irwin. Admittedly, the last half hour of revelation is worth the wait, as I was left feeling that some sort of point had been made despite the film never quite reaching its full potential. Hollie Clemence
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Out Now, 120 mins
Young Coast Guard recruit Jake Fischer comes under adveristy from strict instructor Randall, but they learn to overlook their differences.
THE LAST KISS
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xpecting an action packed yet meaningful film from director Andrew Davis would not be that optimistic as he is the one responsible for such genre classics as The Fugitive. The Guardian doesn’t get to be such a memorable film, relying on one cliché after another, only giving us the impression that we have definitely seen it all before. Most likely, any admirers of Top Gun will identify The Guardian as a watery equivalent of Tom Cruise’s breakthrough work. Kevin Costner plays veteran rescue swimmer Randall, who is given no choice other than becoming a instructor for the so called ASchool. His intolerant training and legendary reputation stirs up the nerves of young swim champ Jake Fischer (Kutcher), who tries repeatedly to impress his tough coach without success. This lengthy film is more on the tiring side than the exciting. The truly impressive scenes are the rescues, from Hurricane Katrina survivors to errant private boats, which add something extra to the movie; an exploration into the work of real rescue swimmers. The special effects are no more impressive than any other contemporary production and will hardly enhance the film’s quality, apart from catastrophe enthusiasts. Costner and Kutcher don’t prove much more than what they have already proven previously; their performances relying on the usual archetypes. However, this has plenty of action and very pretty young rescuers throughout to keep a couple happy. Ana Moraes
Dir: Tony Goldwyn Starring: JD from Scrubs, Summer from The OC Out Now, 115 mins
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he Last Kiss is a remake of the Italian film L’Ultimo Bacio (2001). It tells the story of a group of friends, who in their late 20’s face an early “mid life” crisis, begin to question the direction their lives have taken with a predictable focus on love and relationships. Scrubs star Zach Braff plays the films central character Michael, who is apparently content with what life has given him, that is until his perfect girlfriend (Jacinda Barrett) gets pregnant. This along with the failing relationships of family and friends, and the flirtatious advances of a young, stunning, college student (Rachel Bilson), means Michael begins to ponder life, and his future. Which for a Zach Braff character means several scenes sat on a sofa, eyes closed, meditating, listening to Coldplay. The characters lives are, however, believable, which may explain why many of their actions at times so are frustrating. Although sold as a romantic comedy, the films comedy moments are few and far between and the film would be better described as a melodrama...another Garden State this is not… well apart from the sound track, which once again appears to be taken from Zach’s MP3 player. Sara Watkin
FORTYTHREE
FILM ASHTON KUTCHER GOES COASTAL IN THE GUARDIAN
grew up with a cornfield in my backyard and always thought a baseball player was going to walk out of it. I’m very fortunate to have met a lot of my acting heroes. They become your teachers and your team-mates, your bodyguards or authoritative figure. Now Kevin is my friend.” On the Coast Guard:
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THE GUARDIAN: Soldiers of Orange
On preparation for his role:
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It’s the fittest I’ve ever been in my life. I feel like when you’re doing a film the idea is that you do all the work before you get there. Everything that you’re going to do in a scene, everything that you’re going to have to do physically, you have to have the work already done before you arrive... I don’t like the water, I didn’t like taking a bath really. I spent a lot of time swimming. I had to basically learn how to in order to do the film, and then just training beyond that and training as an actor, just to get better.”
On working with Costner:
“
I [thought] about Dustin Hoffman doing Marathon Man with Laurence Olivier, and
Dustin was running around the track until he passed out and Olivier was standing over him and says ‘it’s called acting my boy.’ So the whole movie I kept waiting for Kevin to come up to me and just go ‘it’s called acting my boy,’ but it never happened. He got in decent shape for the film, and I learned a
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On dramatic roles:
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As an actor, when you’re starting off, you don’t necessarily get to choose that much. You kind of do what you’re given. You have limited choices, and as my “Dayumm, you done got choices have grown I’ve been able Punk’d dawg!” to tell the stories that I like to tell, about people that I respect, or a Kutcher on The Importance of Being Ernest story that has a message I believe in. Those are the kind of films I want to make, and whether that’s a lot from him, not necessarily about comedy or an action film or a being in the water but about being a drama, or a horror film or a western man, and about relating with people, – whatever it is – those are the kind about being a generous person and of movies I want to make.” a generous actor...his movie Field of Ashton Kutcher on playing Jake Dreams was filmed in Iowa, and I Fischer
Alan Bennett gets historical THE HISTORY BOYS: Let’s go to work
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You have to respect anybody who is willing to sacrifice their life to save the life of a complete stranger, if you don’t you’re a fool. That’s what these guys do on a daily basis. I also appreciate the fact that there’s a branch of the military supported by the United States government that is trained to save lives not to take them. I think that’s a really noble thing.”
“
I don’t know that I understand boys now. Things have changed so much. But the boys in the play are from the same social level as I was from. I didn’t try to write like the 80s as it were, in a self-consciously modern way. I just wrote true to the character of the boys and trusted that if anything sounded old-fashioned or over-literary, then the actors would smooth it out themselves - which they did. You also learnt what sort of characters they were.” Alan Bennett on adapting The History Boys
FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM
FILM
dvds
Boxsets
Bateman’s best PEEP SHOW SEASONS 0NE TO THREE Out Nov 6th he rarest of things, a sitcom which is genuinely and consitantly great, not just for one but for three full series. Since the third series aired on Channel 4 many people are now familiar with the lives of Mark and Jez (and my personal favourite character, crack adict musician wannabe Super Hans). However, the majority of them are likely to have missed the superb first series first time round. Plus, the extras are great. it’s basically worth buying for Jez’s big brother audition tape alone. Essential viewing as moreish as a good crack pipe. Si Truss
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re-releases
THE VENGEANCE TRILOGY BOX SET (SYMPATHY FOR MR VENGEANCE/OLDBOY/LADY VENGEANCE) Out Now han-Wook Park made Korean cinema the pinnacle of cool with his Vengeance trilogy, now released in a DVD boxset essential for fans of Asian cinema. Connected through their vengeance theme only, Sympathy for Mr Vengeance involves a deaf-mute exsteelworker attempting to raise funds for his sister’s kindey operation through kidnapping, which naturally goes awry despite his misguided intentions. Extremely dark and sombre, some argue it is the finest of the three. The second and most famous, Oldboy, follows Oh-Daesu’s (the iconic Min-Sik Choi’s) quest for vengeance against a mysterious captor who kept him imprisoned in a room for fifteen years. It is less distant in its approach to violence and takes a more flamboyant and darkly comic approach than its predecessor. Lady Vengeance is the most recent of the three and the first to focus on a female protagonist. As a result, it is perhaps the most beautiful and eloquent of Park’s trio, but also suffers from having a weaker narrative than its male-centric predecessors. Ewen Hosie
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NOSFERATU: PHANTOM DER NACHT Out Now erzog’s re-imagining of the Dracula mythos combines elements of F.W.Murnau’s silent classic Nosferatu with the fiction of Bram Stoker (hence the use of Count Dracula rather than Olaf in his film). Beautifully shot in a gothic fashion, Herzog injects life into this dark but tragic horror tale that sheds new light on an ugly, rattish Count who wants to love and be loved in return. Klaus Kinski is typically brilliant in the title role. Ewen Hosie
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special edition TRANSFORMERS THE MOVIE: 20TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION Out Now f you’re nervously anticipating the release of Micahel Bay’s Transformers next year, then why not console yourself with yet another re-release of this epic slice of advertising-cum-filmmaking. Reminisce over the death of Autobot leader Optimus Prime, the destruction wreaked by planeteating, Orson-Welles voiced Unicron (his final ‘role’), the creation of Galvatron and the glorious power pop rock ballads of 80s legend Stan Bush. This two-disc edition is the best looking transfer of the film available and although childhood nostalgia can get in the way of objective critique, we say to hell with it. Learn to enjoy yourselves, you crazy munchkins. Ewen Hosie
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PEEP SHOW: Peep this
Halloweeeeen! CARRIE Out Now arrie is Stephen King’s personal favourite adaptation of his own horror work and deservedly so. It is the tragic tale of a tormented high school girl whose alienation leads to terrible consequences for her peers. The shock ending still... well... shocks and Sissy Spacek’s performance as Carrie is affecting (the bullying she receives when she discovers her period is painful to watch). A horror film with heart, it stands alongside Christine and The Shining as one of the finest King adaptations. Featuring De Palma’s trademark swooping camerawork and Hitchcock homage (the music is near note-for-note Psycho at times) Carrie is also one of the greatest films of the seventies. Ewen Hosie
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FORTYFIVE
DIGITAL
NET SMUT
Tantalising top three… fetish websites! http://www.members.tripod.com/hiccup_lovers/ Seriously… we don’t get it. So you’ve eaten too much and you’ve got the dreaded hiccups, how is this sexy? Well, apparently it is. Full of hilarious videos and real-life accounts, this site is at least good for a laugh. Bonnie, at the ‘adult hiccup lovers club’ can’t get enough of it, to the point where her boyfriend doesn’t even enter the equation - “I wished he could just go away and leave me and the hiccups alone”. By far the best feature is you can actually ring up and record your hiccups: 800-MY-YAHOO (800-699-2466)
FORTYSIX
Mailbox/PIN HICCUPS4ME (4422877463) – go ahead, make some hiccup-lover’s day.
www.dpf.com Finally, a site for you diaper wearing freaks out there. Visitors to this site will be introduced to Susan & Ricky: “They have learned how to make adult disposable diapers look EXACTLY like a Pampers.” Just what the out-of-pocket student needs. “Susan has no problem babying Ricky and changing him in front of others at a
park.” A fetish adaptable to all social situations, whether it be pub, library or lecture. Worth a visit.
http://www.travisjmorgan.com/blog/2006/05/ 09/cheese-fetish/ For the more sophisticated of you – the cheese board and port-sipping bon-viveurs. Who said fetishes have to be photographic, we say bring back respectable academic erotica. Especially when it involves cheese. Here’s a little snippet to wet your Jacobs cracker. “I nibbled on its nacho ear, and licked its gouda balls. Mad in love with ricotta kisses, I screamed out Wisconsin calls!…” Lucy Reader and Jacqui Polley
DIGITAL@GAIRRHYDD.COM
DIGITAL
Things you can get for free off the net
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dmit it: you’re only reading this because it’s free. Don’t worry - I won’t judge you for it, I only still have sex because the nice folk at SHAG give me free condoms (that’s obviously a lie, I’d pay to do a shoe full of jelly given half the chance). My depraved private life aside, I’ve decided to give you a list of free things you can get through the computer you conned your family out of and the internet connection you’re not paying your housemates your share of. Go on moocher, fill your borrowed boots. • MYTUNES REDUX: More popular in halls than pushing your mate around in a Tesco trolley screaming wankers at stuck up prudes, Redux allows networked moochers to exchange mooched music with each other all the live-long day. Using Google it is easy enough to download and worth a try, not that I condone its use. • WWW.THE-UNDERDOGS.INFO/: When games stop being profitable developers have an amazing tendency to ditch the rights to software they previously would have punched strangers to protect. Allowing moochers like you to download games legally. • WWW.BLOCKBUSTER.CO.UK/: Sign up, get your two weeks of free DVDs, and then unsubscribe. The suckers won’t know what hit them. Congratulations poverty-stricken moocher, why not celebrate this small victory by minesweeping drinks at Fun Factory: it’s free to get in and they even lay on a bus to take you home! Dominic Mukwamba-Sendall
Little original laughs
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here would we be without the internet? Well for one we would not have the far-too-easily-accessible ability to waste hours being bombarded with the laughproducing antics that provide a means of salvation from actual work for many a student. Take Salad Fingers for example, wrong but clearly brilliant I can’t thank fat-pie.com enough for brining him into my life. A lot of the other shows on this site are similarly dark and odd but I say that’s nothing to complain about. Another popular character is Queer Duck, courtesy of Mike Reiss and icebox.com, there’s a catchy theme tune and I defy anyone to resist being charmed by his over excitable eyebrows. The Hasselhoff-esque Openly Gator provides much amusement and may drive die hard Hoff fans to inundate the site with hate mail justifying Hoff’s masculinity and eminent heterosexuality. Also worth a mention channel 101.com and channel02.net which tend to go for acted rather than animated entertainment. I had to try a little harder to find quality comedy on the site but got there in the end. Check out 102’s Jesus Christ Super cop for some sacrilegious hilarity. However, let no one say these diversions aren’t thought provoking. Icebox.com provides plenty of social commentary, philosophy from Midge and Buck, and at the end of each Mr. Wong episode the question ‘is it love or is it hate?’ is posed. I’ll leave you to ponder that one for yourselves; meanwhile there are plenty of episodes which you can use to aid your research. Altogether a pretty good selection of entertainment and even if you don’t like it all there’s certainly ‘something for everyone’ in this selection. Lauren Constable
In Review Samsung D900.
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he D900 is Samsung’s latest handset in the ‘D’ series, and owners of previous models will find it both frustrating and reassuringly familiar. Billed as the ‘world’s slimmest sliding phone’ - so? Samsung has focused once again on style over substance. The phone suffers from the crippling affliction known as Ipoditis, a kind of technological narcolepsy where the primary symptom is a soul-destroying tendency to run out of battery after minimal use. The camera screen takes so long to load that by the time it does, your girlfriend has invariably got her clothes on again, and in addition to
DIGITAL@GAIRRHYDD.COM
this there is no 3G and you can’t set your own message tone. What is the point of owning a phone, or even getting up in the morning, if you can’t hear Pete Bennett screaming “Wankers!” at you every time you get a text? (Actually, if this is a deliberate omission by Samsung to stop this sort of crap then I take back
everything bad I’ve ever said about anything.) These problems conspire to sabotage what should have been a great handset. To be fair, it looks the nuts. The menus are so user-friendly, and the buttons so well-sized that a drunk horse could manage them, and the camera itself (3.2 megapixels and flash) is more than adequate. The slim-sliding design looks so good it raises the thorny issue of negative body image among the new breed of mobiles. Did you see Mowbli in Heat magazine last month? Terrible. Anyway, in conclusion, the D900 (13mm thick and weighing in at 93g) is the Paris Hilton of the mobile telephone world - it looks good and it has some very attractive features, but would you want it enough to put it near your hand or mouth? Thomas Birts
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GOING OUT
What to do this Halloween Going out editors Kayleigh Excell and Rachel Clare give you their quick guide to what’s on this Halloween and Bonfire night
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of special activities devoted to the eeling a bit clueless about spookiest night of the year. Ghost what to do this this Halloween stories, tricks, treats, apple-bobbing, night? Fear not my fellow stutraditional games, music and festive dents, whether you want to dance food are all on offer. Tickets must be the night away with witches and booked in advance. ghouls or be terriefied at the If you want a more relaxed night movies, we have the guide to whats you could always catch the latest on in Cardiff on this spooky night... scary film at the cinema. We recomGassy Jacks on Salisbury Road in mend Vue who are showing the Cathays is a great first stop for a greatest selection of scary films Halloween pub crawl round Cathays. including, The Grudge 2, The Texas They are holding a Halloween party Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, with entrance gained only if you are and Saw 3. wearing a costume. So dig out those old witchy costumes and white sheets! There will be pumpkins galore and Halloween games to keep you entertained. The Woodville pub is anothe on er idea for those of you living experienc terrifying i Pellow is lly a in Cathays. There’s really re a art For n er 31st M scary stuff happening here the Octob the Donald Gordoium t n a e ill M this Tuesday Halloween. s playing le the Wa Centre. There is free Screambucca Theatre in for the first 100 in fancy dress! Pumpkin Carving competitions, Cult horror films on the big screens and loads more. Another option this Halloween is at The Museum of Welsh Life, St. Fagans, which offers a weekend
ely...
Alternativ
Remember, remember the 5th November... Don’t forget bonfire night! This is one night to make sure you're outside warming your hands over a bonfire and craning your neck to look for fireworks. The Cardiff Round Table Firework Display is the biggest in Wales, with the added spectacle of Cardiff Castle as a backdrop. It takes place in Coopers Field in Bute Park, just behind the castle. Childrens' rides and food and drink stalls galore. Cardiff Round Table Firework Display Where: Bute Park Cost:: £5; children £3; family ticket £10 Opening Hours: Gates 5.30pm; bonfire lit 7pm; fireworks 8pm
FORTYEIGHT
GOINGOUT@GAIRRHYDD.COM
The
GOING OUT
guide
Known as much for its groovy loos as it is for its great selection of beers, J.D Wetherspoon pubs are a popular spot for many a student. Going out Editor Rachel Clare gives you a quick guide to some of the best in Cardiff… Central Bar (39 Windsor Place, next to Queen Street Barclays) Close to Cathays and recently banning smoking in any part of the pub, Central Bar is a favourite among students. Upstairs is the place to be with its chilled out atmosphere, fireplace and cosy booths. Like all Wetherspoons the menu is excellent and quite cheap. We’d recommend the Thursday night curry club. You get a choice of curry, yellow basmati rice, nann bread, poppadums and mango chutney, as well as a drink (can be alcoholic) all for £4.49 - bargain!
Prince of Wales (81-83 St Marys Street, near the train station) The grandest of all Wetherspoons in Cardiff, The Prince of Wales was once an old style theatre and many traces of this have been left intact. From the wide spirally staircase to the high ceilings, you really feel like this is more special than your average pub. The cocktail list is a must-read; the pitchers to share are a great start to a night out in town.
Gatekeeper (9-10 Westgate Street, near the Millennium Stadium) If you’re going to see a match at the stadium and want to be included into the pre-match euphoria then this is where the Welsh flags and noisy hooters are at. However if you just want some food and a drink getting served is near to hopeless, especially upstairs. The best time to come here would be on a non-match day and as the food here is renond as excellent, the breakfast menu (served til noon) would be a good way to go.
Ernest Willows (2-12 City Road, Roath) For students who like to smoke this Wetherspoons should please. It’s constantly smoky and is usually quiet, consequently being served is quick and easy. A speciality here is the draught beer which is always served chilled. Don’t miss Jagermeister - the best selling German spirit made from a blend of 56 mysterious fruits, roots and herbs. Very tasty and always ice cold it is best drank as a shooter with a beer chaser or mixed with an energy drink.
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FORTYNINE
BLIND DATE
Little Miss Blind Date
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his week, Little Miss Blind Date logs on to the world of cyber-romance. The biggest love affair I've ever had was an obsession beyond anything I've ever known. At moments, my lover left me miserable, at other times incensed and always confused. More often than not, I’d be left hanging, wondering what he was doing to me. My eyesight was worsening, my electricity bills were rocketing and I'd lost my ability to write in plain English. My affair was with the love child of Mr Bill Gates, MSN messenger. As with everything, (and I'm sure Pete Doherty could back me up on this one), it all started out innocently, with the vague intention of staying in touch with old friends while evading the task of essay-writing and revision. And it was great for a while. I felt I had come to the forefront of the technological frontier, now initiated into a whole new social world. As well as getting someone's number, I could ask for their email and add them to my rapidly growing contacts list, for hours of random and pointless conversation. I decided to add Mr Saturday Night to my contacts list, feeling that as we'd been playing a regular texting rally, a bit of harmless flirting á la t'internet couldn't do any harm. But how to start a conversation? “Hiya” and a smiley face. Not original, but straight and to the point. Once started, the conversation carried on for a further hour and then at intervals for the next few days. Every time I signed into MSN, my pulse would start racing if I saw his name in green and it would positively palpitate if his name started to flash orange at the bottom of the screen. But soon I would sign in and he'd be
FIFTY
online when he said that he wouldn't be. He wouldn't try and speak to me, even if I said hello. And I did say hello, several times. So where was he? Why wasn't he replying? And if he did reply with oneword answers, why was he so disinterested? Who else was he speaking to? If he signed off with an “x,” I'd sign off with two and have a smile on my face until the next time we spoke. But then, why didn't he sign off with a “x” the next time? Had I done something wrong? Had I been too forward? And during this whole time I didn't once see him in person. That was the problem. I felt like we really knew each other; I'd told him everything about myself via cyberspace and thought he really liked me. My friends were pinning up ‘Missing’ posters featuring my face around Cathays while I sat in my room surrounded by sour cups of old tea and plates of congealed beans on toast.
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Where had the last month of my life actually gone? Egged on by my housemates, I decided once and for all to get some answers from Mr Saturday Night. After I'd poured my heart out to him and flirted away with my repertoire of smiley faces and little messenger vernacular (lol, rofl, brb), I wanted to know how he felt about me. The next time I saw his name in green I plucked up the courage to ask him out for a drink. There was a pause. I waited. And waited. Approximately one minute and fifteen seconds later he replied: “Sorry babe, I'm going out later with my new girlfriend. We met in Factory on
Monday night.” Monday night. Where had I been on Monday night? I glanced around my room, taking in the unmade bed, dirty laundry and unopened textbooks. Where had the last month of my life actually gone? With this rude elbow back into reality, I turned off my laptop, switched back on my hair straighteners and discovered my make-up bag for the first time in a week. My love affair with MSN was over and this time I definitely wasn't going to take him back.
EMOTICONS: Ruin lives
Fed up of Facebook stalking? Mates on MySpace looking boring? Don’t suffer in silence. Little Miss Blind Date is here to take the cyber out of dating. Email: blinddate@ gairrhydd.com Let Little Miss Blind Date search for your perfect partner. BLINDDATE@GAIRRHYDD.COM
BACKCHAT
Ooh scary! The Evil Dead (1981)
The Wicker Man (1973)
In The Mouth Of Madness (1995)
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Director: Sam Raimi inanced partly by its Super 8 teaser Within the Woods, The Evil Dead is a low budget gruelling horror released in 1981, which spawned two sequels, a proposed remake and possible fourth installment. Sam Raimi, director of the Spiderman franchise, helmed this cult horror project with his prowling and innovative camerawork, twisted black humour and overblown use of blood and gore effects. The plot consists of five teenagers, vacationing in a remote and isolated cabin, unearthing the Book of the Dead and inadvertently resurrecting evil. Inevitably, but amusingly, they are possessed oneby-one, until Bruce Campbell, whose overtly camp character Ash, stands alone to battle against the everencroaching evil. The evil peaks as Cheryl is controversially but eyeopeningly sexually assaulted by a possessed tree. Later Ash’s possessed girlfriend Linda tries to kill him and a frenzied Ash decapitates her with a shovel. Influences from The 3 Stooges and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre infuse to create this disturbing black comedy with its surreal and tense atmosphere. However it stands alone as an assured, innovative and inspirational work. As a film The Evil Dead teaches us many things: to never wear short skirts around trees, to buy fruit from an established greengrocer instead of going down to your ‘fruit cellar’, and finally, that big chins are Groovy! Ryan Owen Evil Dead: Groovy
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Director: Robin Hardy ver wanted to know where you can pick up a reasonably priced foreskin or pickled puppy? Well aside from the occasional branch of Lidl you might be advised to visit Summerisle, home of The Wicker Man. The film revolves around straightlaced police officer Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward), sent to the mysterious Scottish island to investigate the disappearance of a young girl. But the islanders are uncooperative and led by the enigmatic Lord Summerisle (played with mesmerising menace by Christopher Lee). Cue a cover-up, animal sacrifices, the aforementioned foreskin shop and more nudity than you can shake a phallic object at. What follows is a battle between Howie and the inhabitants as he tries to solve the case, as well as a battle with himself, as his moral resolve is tested to the limit. Some question The Wicker Man’s horror credentials, but with an everpresent air of suspense mixed with a healthy dose of the surreal, not to mention a now unforgettably shocking ending, how can it be anything but a horror movie? Plus you can now see its influence stamped all over films, music and television - not least The League of Gentlemen. Ideal Halloween viewing, packed with enough surprises to keep you puzzled, scared or repulsed long after you’ve finished watching. Ignore the recent lifeless remake, this is a true British classic. Tom Brookes
Director: John Carpenter
nsurance fraud investigator John Trent’s latest case involves the disappearance of pop-horror writer Sutter Cane. In locating him, Trent (Sam Neill) stumbles across a familiar town, a town written about in a previous work of Cane, a town excruciatingly recreated among those pages. In this town he finds crazed local children, murderous old ladies and the run-of-the-mill possessed paintings. More disturbingly, Trent discovers the true power held by Cane - are his books coming to life? Or is it a hoax perpetuated by the writer’s publishing company? The final film in Carpenter’s ‘Apocalypse’ trilogy (The Thing and Prince of Darkness preceeding it) is an underrated gem. Combining Sam Neill, gore, Exorcist-style ‘spider walking’, dark comedy, excellent ending, great quotes, end-of-the-world scenarios - it has it all! There are also underlying comments on religion, belief and reality, with Cane becoming a pseudo God-like figure, creating worlds, people and creatures through his writings. Of course, like any real horror flick, it affects you more after it has finished, particularly the everso- eerie flashbacks seen throughout (something akin to Event Horizon). If you are looking for a film to pass the time with, this may not be ideal viewing. However if you enjoy something that is thought provoking, eerie, unique and infinitely re-watchable then this is the horror movie for you. Matt Keane
cs i s s a l C t l u C ds recommen
Don’t Look Now (1973) Dawn of the Dead (1978) Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)
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BACKCHAT
Amber Duval sex laws for the jilted generation
This week Amber goes winter sexing
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The new site, coming soon
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Brush the cobwebs from your crack and blow the iceicles from your nips as you prize your pussy from the warmth of the radiator
Fog: a magical and mystical setting for all those love puppies out there. Woof woof. Make this one romantic but try to keep an eye on the lover of choice as I encountered one very strange, although not wholly-unwelcome, partner-switch halfway through due to blurry vision. The result? A very dischevelled Granny named Joan giving me the best tongueing ever. (Although her incontinence pants got in the way a bit.) Snow: stop being a massive gay and go home and watch some Chinese Water Buffalo porn because anyone who says they love snow sex is a liar and a thief. Goodnight.
www.quench.gairrhydd.com
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icture the scene: Leaves falling aided by a frisky breeze blowing the timid bellends of Cathays into submission. It can only mean one thing: Baby it’s time for winter sexing before the cock socks take over! Brush the cobwebs from your crack and blow the Icicles from your nips as you prize your pussy from the warmth of the radiator. Get off the beaten track and opt for a more unusual setting for your perverse antics. A personal favourite of mine is the Taff Trail (and yes I am the woman who keeps getting arrested for filming erotic bird sex... mmmmm little Miss Blackbird sure does know how to show a girl a good time...Hubba hubba). You see, the beauty of the Taff Trail is that you can take a partner or recruit a new one from the bouffet of hobos, perverts and general weirdos that abound this unadulterated sex spot. (Just make sure that you bring a large stick, preferably made out of willow to poke away a very persistent dogger named Olaf. Don’t fall for his smacked-up charms.) To give you an idea of what needs to be done, I have compiled a wintery warmer sexdom chart. Windy: fast and furoius avec rimming for desserts. Tip: dip your teabag in the sugary love juice repeatedly for that all-over shiver. Hail and/or sleet: now listen-up comrades, this one is tricky. The best way to make the most out of this double weather whammy is to start slowly and concentrate on bean flicking. As the hail turns to sleet it’s obviously time for the tit-wanks to take over in what should culminate in an exlosive, wet and slimy orgasm. Amazing. Frost: Think Swan Lake, slippin ‘n sliding sex. This can be as graceful as you choose but remember to wear shinpads. Not sexy but a necessity to ensure health and safety.
AMBER@GAIRRHYDD.COM
BACKCHAT
The Usual Suspects Tom Williams delivers his verdict on the 10 most hated Premiership players
10.
Jens Lehmann (Arsenal)
Guards his personal space like a precious Hollywood diva, and reacts with hilarious histrionic hissy fits when he feels someone has intruded into it. Also German.
9.
Ricardo Carvalho (Chelsea)
Thankfully, pre-emptive justice was done to this sly, shirt-tugging, nippletweaking Portuguese thug when he was born with a face that looks like it’s been attacked with a meat tenderizer.
8.
Paul Dickov (Manchester City)
As if having a name that reads like a Japanese DIY castration manual wasn’t bad enough, God decided to punish Paul Dickov further by making him both Scottish and about four feet tall. The classic small angry man, he is the Premiership’s arch niggler.
7.
Didier Drogba (Chelsea)
The Ivory Coast striker feigns injury with the élan of a ballerina. Admitted to diving in an interview on Match of the Day last season. Then took it back. Chelsea claimed a language problem, and I guess it’s easy to see how “Sometimes I dive” could be misinterpreted…
6.
Craig Bellamy (Liverpool)
Craig, you’re offside. Put your hands down, take that look of wide-eyed incredulity off your face and pop that torrent of expletives back in your mouth while you’re at it. Even though you’re being marked by a centre half twice your weight and half your speed, you’ve still managed to find yourself a good 15 yards offside, for the 27th time in the match. I can see it, the linesman can see it, and
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so can everyone watching on TV and everyone in the ground, including the man shaking his white stick at you in the front row.
5.
Ashley Cole (Chelsea)
The 2003 FA Cup Final. English football’s showpiece occasion. Arsenal are 1-0 up against lowly, plucky Southampton, and closing in on a second consecutive FA Cup triumph. The self-proclaimed “best left-back of his generation” spends the last fifteen minutes shamelessly hoofing the ball into the stands at every opportunity, in an attempt to waste as much time as possible. One of the most joyless players around.
4.
Lee Bowyer
3.
Cristiano Ronaldo
1. Robbie Savage (Blackburn)
A midfield hardman with long blonde hair and an ‘Armani’ tattoo, who runs like he’s wading through custard. Universally hated, he irritates opposition fans and players like a persistent anal worm.
(West Ham)
Public Enemy Number One for pretty much his entire career, he is booed at every away ground he visits. A horrible, dirty hoodlum who starts fights with his own teammates. (Manchester United)
His feet are as quick (and as prone to repetitive circular movements) as an electric whisk, but he also has the annoying habit of reacting to perceived injustices with a look of exasperated childish distress that could move even a nun to murderous thoughts.
2.
El-Hadji Diouf (Bolton)
He spits at opponents. He spits at rival fans. He goes down quicker than Paris Hilton. And in an injustice of truly Sophoclean proportions, he was voted one of the world’s greatest living footballers by Pelé.
ROBBIE: He’s really savage
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BACKCHAT T unnel Vi s i o n TV Rusty Sky’s his limit
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et again TV Gareth is either ill, away or just pathologically lazy so is unable to write tunnel vision this week, but never fear, I have been sacrificing my thousand pound a term university education to provide an informed, rounded view of the week’s TV (Or perhaps its just one sided opinion and general banter). I'm sad this week folks. The final episode of Gervais and Merchant's Extras has played; the credits have rolled, the laughter has stopped and my Thursday evenings now lack any sort of direction. Even though a host of A listers have graced this series from Robert De Niro to Keith Chegwin, the over weight shining light of them all was without a doubt, Sean "Barry from Eastenders" Williamson. Sacked from the Albert Square roster and denied a five hundred pound contract with ITV he consequently ends up as the handyman of a part time car phone warehouse employee.
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aforementioned early teenage boys watch frustrated for half an hour, member out, with the hope of a slight breast shot. On to Sky-Two. This is the channel I have my biggest qualm with, all it plays at the moment is Futurama, and herein lies the problem. Despite popular belief it just isn't really that funny, it's a constant 6/10. I watch with the hope that the episode in question will have that one funny joke that inevitably they all do. But it's never more than that. It's the cartoon watching equivalent of seeing a blind cat walk around the kitchen. You know that it's going to hit its head on something eventually, so you keep your eye on the poor creature until it does, smile slightly and then you leave. But for some reason with Futurama you don't leave, as my sofa bound friend commented "I'd rather watch anything else…but the remote's on the floor". For some reason everyone labours over the idea that it's worth watching, so we all do, it’s all the build up of a night of dancing with some beautiful overly sexed and scantily clad 18 year old you met at Metro's but without any of the promised pay off. Of course I have experienced neither of these things but you know, I think I've watched enough late night SKY-One to have a guess at what it’s like. In fact, scrap the last metaphor, it's like a night in front of Sky–One waiting for the side breast shot that never comes. Excuse the pun. So,Sky Three, until this weekend I thought this was all bad repeats, until I saw perhaps the worst list show that has ever graced the British Television screens; wait for it….top 20 World’s Best Cities. This show is one big travel advert, and amalgamation of clips from back episodes of Wish You Were Here and travel commentators spouting sound bites such as “Rome has to be the most Romantic of all the cities" or "Barcelona really is a magical place”. I just wanted one of them to say "Paris; bit of a shit hole really." Rupert Murdoch has made Extras: there were no pictures of series two me far too angry. Thanks NTL. Barry is the type of pathetic, hopeless sidekick that makes great comedy, and Extras is undeniably great comedy. I could list countless events in which The B-Man disgraces himself but I will just say this: Masturbating over a pen. So far I've been over complementary; Tunnel Vision should be a slating, cynical, bitter rant from people who lack the talent to make films, TV etc so live out their days writing the television column at the back of a student magazine, so here goes. Having always lived in the backwaters of nowhere sansSky digital, imagine my delight at having NTL installed in my 1930's terraced house in Cathays. "Finally" I thought "I can watch all the great Sky programmes that have been all my life denied to me by my evil, Roald Dahl-esque step-parents". Alas it seems that Sky television, goes as follows. SKY-One seems to be TV made for 14 year old boys consisting solely of Car Crashes, The Simpsons, retrospective list shows and, past nine o clock, programmes which the
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It’s like a night infront of Sky-One, waiting for the side breast shot that never comes
TELEVISION@GAIRRHYDD.COM
IN CITY® UNDERSEXEDTHE Chancing, dancing and modern romancing: The do nots and dont’s of finding your one true love on the dancefloor
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ather round friends, and I shall tell you a tale of despair, heartbreak and deepest misanthropy. At the start of this serene British summertime, I was unceremoniously ditched by my cheating harlot fiancée of almost three years. “So what?” You say? “So that’s pretty goddamn bad”, I say. But let’s cut to the chase. It’s been six years since I was last single, and times have changed. The hum-drum fiddle-dee-dee naivety of youthdom and white cider have long passed, the endless summers of wooing girls in William Morriss patterned dresses playing hopskotch in the cathedral grounds. Mix-tapes, love letters, droolingly piss-poor amateur poetry and tacky friendship bracelets are just a fading star now. In 2006 it’s hard graft, harsh times, and in the internal bleeding and Friday-nightchunder capital of the UK, it’s a far cry from the Venetial whirlwind romances of county life. I’m undersexed in the city. That’s my story. It got me thinking, trying to find romance in a nightclub is like trying to find a piece of hay in a stack of needles the size of Scrooge McDuck’s money chamber. 99% of the time the closest you’ll get to a bonding moment is when your pisshead nub-
chewing friend thanks you for wiping the mayonnaise and sick off their chin. But for those striving for that elusive one percent here’s some deliberated advice on what not to do. My own personal experience of this savage, cruel infliction is a consecutive stream of moronic gestures all of which could be followed with a Family Fortunes “wrong answer” klaxon. The basics are obvious; don’t wear sheepskin jackets with feather boas, don’t throw up on the floor, don’t throw up on yourself, don’t lose your shoes, don’t throw up in your shoes and then put them back on etc. These are all activities for the lucky few who are already married, or tied the knot with their own lack of dignity. The more subtle include: if you see somebody with your favourite band on their t-shirt, don’t wait until the DJ plays their song to go and dance enthusiastically infront of them, because there’s never a guarantee it’ll happen, and if it does, you inevitably end up gesticulating with two left feet and arms of Venus de Milo in the direction of intoxicated yob-rot Kasabian fans. It’s only afterwards you notice that a) you’re the only one dancing, and b) somehow, your love interest is managing to laugh at you AND shove their tongue down another person’s throat simultaneously. Also, don’t pretend you remember words to songs when you’re already struggling to remember the name of the band. Just grin manically. You look like a fuckwit, but better that than a fuckwit who pretends to like Dirty Pretty Things. If an inordinately attractive person says “I love this song, do you want to dance?” don’t say “What is it? It sounds shit.” There’s a time and a place for honesty, and finding your future life partner isn’t it. The
correct answer is quite obviously “I love this song too, it’s fnerrrmenerr, isn’t it?” The beauty of the club is that you can get away with these half-hearted blatherings, providing they don’t then ask you to repeat yourself. Then you’ve had it. Similarly, if an inordinately attractive person is making eyes at you across the dancefloor, don’t kid yourself, they’re probably wondering why you’re trying to waggle your arms out of the sockets in a busy nightclub, on your own. I have never managed to “pull”, “get fresh”, “get tasty” or “obtain a phone number” in my entire life, and this is due to one key failing strategy. OK, two key strategies: don’t hang around the girls’ toilet waiting for someone so wasted to come along that they fall into your arms rather than the door, and more importantly, don’t sulk. Don’t sit on your own trying to chew soil out of your fingernails, this results in nothing but concerned halfwits telling you to “cheer the fuck up,” which in context, is an OK gesture, but as far as the only four words the two of you will ever share, it’s not “will you marry me?”, is it?
Next week I’ll try morris dancing or calligraphy classes. It sounds a lot less complicated.
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