contents : Issue 60 - 26 November 2007 FEATURES
p.08
Photographer Mario Cacciottolo is on a photographic mission to engage with the masses on his project Someone Once Told Me. Sophie Pycroft and Gillian Couch find out what it’s all about.
BLACK REBEL p.22 MOTORCYCLE CLUB
Gritty garage-rock band BRMC provide a stark contrast to the current wave of NME poster-boy indie. Annika Henderson catches up with Peter Hayes to ask a few questions.
VOYEUR - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.04 DEBATE - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.06 SOFIE - - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.07 TRAVEL - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.14 GAY - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.16 FASHION - - - - - - - - - - - p.17 INTERVIEWS - - - - - - - - - p.20 FOOD - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -p.26
FINAL WHISTLE- - - - - - - p.28 BLIND DATE - - - - - - - - - -p.29 BOOKS - - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.31 ARTS - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.34 CULT CLASSICS - - - - - - -p.36 DIGITAL - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.37 MUSIC - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.41 FILM - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - p.49
COVER: Ben Bryant / Ed Salter / Gillian Couch
Editor Ben Bryant Executive Editor Amy Harrison Assistant to the Editors Elaine Morgan Arts Amy Grier, Tasha Prest-Smith Blind Date Hazel Plush Books Tom Williams Cult Classics Gareth Mogg Debate Aisling Tempany Digital Dom Mukwamba-Sendall Fashion Jo Butler, Mary Parkes Features Gillian Couch, Chris Rogers, Jim Whiteley Film Sim Eckstein, Will Hitchins Food Daniel Smith Gay Andy Tweddle Going Out Lucy Rowe, Amelia Thomas Interviews Michael Bateson-Hill, Lucinda Day, Annika Henderson Music Kyle Ellison, Francesca Jarvis, Si Truss Travel Jim Finucane, Kirsty Page Sub Editor Graeme Porteous Proof Readers Elaine Morgan, Aisling Tempany,
voyeur
{Voyeur}......... IN
OUT
PHOTO: AMY HARRISON
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vanilla sex
Bike sex
e-shopper Avenging Narwhal Play set “Each of the four magical tusks has its own unique magical powers” £5.83 www.shakespeares den.com
P
ublication of the Week:
PHOTO: Amy Har-
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musical revolution is underway. It’s taking over city centres, buses, trains, parks, cafes and street corners nationwide. It’s royalty free, subversive and it brings music straight to your ears when you least expect it. I am, of course, talking about those nasty little hoodies who walk around with their phone speakers tinnily pumping out happy hardcore, or 50 cent, or whatever crap they think everyone in their immediate vicintiy wants to hear. Doubtless you’ve encountered one on a train somewhere. Well, it takes more than a designated Quiet Zone to silence these brats. I have watched incredulously on a train as a lone girl, evidently no older than about fifteen, read a magazine while her phone felched out a tinny rendition of Ne-Yo’s gangsta classic ‘So Sick’. Holla. Cut to a street in Cardiff, and a posse of Gs are c-walking down the street with a camera phone at full volume, soundtracking their lives to Naz. I can only tag along silently behind, secretly wishing that I was cool and rebellious enough to intimidate grannies off the street. And this must be why they do it: they actually think we hear their 200BPM dayglo-happy-hardcore nightmare and think, “Hey, that guy’s pretty cool. Not only is his superior taste in music making me tap my feet, but his indifferent attitude towards authority is exciting!”. It’s like the natural evolution from that kid who used to sit on the school bus and blast out metal from his headphones so that people could hear how cool he was. Stoic expression streaked across his face, with Rage Against The Machine clearly audible from his earbuds, he just knew that we all thought he was the shit. Well, he was wrong. If you’re gonna do it, get a boombox and take it back to the old-school. BB
Last week a man in a hotel room was placed on the sex offenders register for having sex with his bicycle. Yes, his bicycle. Frankly, the legitimacy of placing a velophile on the register is questionable, but his sheer stupidity must be punished somehow. Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘saddle-sore’.
Bring Back...
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It’s definitely old enough to qualify as vintage now, and it’s surely only a matter of time before some irony loving student reclaims the only console it was ever cool to own: the Nintendo Game Boy. Devotees argue that only the original brick coupled with Tetris will do.
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S T Y L E With Amber Duval - filth-ridden dispenser of useless advice
voyeur
Hello girls, boys and in-betweeners! Amber Duval here. Goodness, it has been chilly this week, hasn’t it? Those perky little nips have been dancing away under my blouse, much to the delight of this year’s ravishing young Freshers. Naughtiness! Anyway, this issue, I’d like to draw your attention to fancy dress. These sort of parties are tedious and rarely fashionable, but you must never be lazy. One has to keep up appearances, after all! Girls - I suggest costumes that allow you to engage your cock magnet: devils, witches, mother-in-laws - that sort of thing. Boys - there is nothing quite as arousing, I find, as an ageing, affluent geriatric. Patrick Moore just keeps getting better every year! x
This issue: Amber gatecrashes a party
Bacon strips! This sorry-looking girl is evidently in need of some urgent advice. Red hair and a pink jumper? What blasphemy! Churlish waif that she is, she clearly doesn’t give a hoot!
At least this chap is in fancy dress, which makes him reasonably amusing. Still, he looks like a cock magnet with that dress on. No self-respecting lady is going to fiddle with his fungus turret!
I once dated an awful tranny who insisted that I call her Rodney - silly old bint! She didn’t have a scrap of stubble. Still, even she looked more realistic than this ghastly gender-challenged specimen. Awful.
IS THIS YOU? You’re clearly enjoying the tippety top tunes at Fun Factory! Pop up to the gair rhydd office on the fourth floor, because you’ve won 20 CD singles, a DVD and some other bits and bobs.
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debate
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It’s the middle of the term and you’ve no money to go out, so what trashy Saturday entertainment show should you be watching: Strictly Come Dancing or X-Factor?
W
I
t’s the perfect Saturday Night telly delight. A willing assembly of career-challenged “celebrities” put themselves up to the trials and tests of learning a new talent while also facing a torrid of abuse from the judging panel. And then to complete the competition, they get voted out by the viewing public, satisfying all the must-have mechanics of any reality TV show. ‘Strictly’ follows all the rules of entertainment. You have your pantomime villains in the form of camp, cruel and cutting Craig Revel Horwood, and Dancing Queen Arlene Philips, who seems to have replaced botox with ballroom dancing as her favourite past time. Then you’ve got the all-important underdogs, like GMTV’s Kate Garraway and Fiona Philips, whose attempts to imitate Fred and Ginger on the dance floor left them looking more like Fred and Wilma, much to the amusement of the British viewing public. Then there are the winners who prove themselves King and Queen of the dance floor. And no pre-watershed show would be complete without SEX SEX SEX! The racy Rumba by buxom Kelly Brook exciting the male viewers, and the gyrating, jiving Gethin Jones in skintight show costumes for the girls With Bruce Forsyth and Tess Daly providing eye candy for the old and young ,what else would make a Saturday night in more bearable? James Moore
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“
Somehow, you just can’t look away...
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hat’s winter nowadays without Simon Cowell et al bringing joy, heartache and dodgy covers to our television screens. It’s bad, yes, and you try not to watch, but somehow you just can’t look away, as Dermot O’Leary tells you some sob story about how when ‘Neoma Ward’ was 12 she was smacked with a pastry dish when she sang ‘Wannabe’ at lunch and ever since she’s known that she had to be a singer. The music swells and your eyes fill up. Until the ad break, and you’ve restored your dignity and compsure. This year has not been as good as previous; the best thing being the pompous arse that is Rhydian. Still, we can sit there and root for him not to win. And hope that Same Difference wiill never come to anything. Come on, admit it. We all know that every Christmas you accidentally turn that TV on at just the moment when the last two songs are performed, and you sit there biting your nails as the winner is announced. How you’re rooting for one of them, even though your favourite act was knocked out six weeks ago. How you find that Simon Cowell is so spiteful, but so right. And Sharon Osborne and Louis Walsh battle it out for biggest diva, with their constant strops and storm-outs. You’ll always deny it, but it’s really the only thing to watch on a Saturday night in. Talentless idiots singing badly and humiliating themselves. We point and laugh and feel better about ourselves. Vanessa Preston
n o s n i k n Sofie Je
sofie
I’m a cliché…get me out of here!
S
o it’s finally happened. I have finally succumbed to I’m a Celebrity…or as I like to yelp at the television “IACGMOOH!” And all because of a curiosity about our Cerys. My experience of it has been sporadic and half-arsed to say the least but there are some very interesting happenings amongst those trees. You walk into the jungle and part the leaves... “Welcome to the mixed bag of classic gender roles!” Here follows a break down or guide to what seems to be occurring down in the jungle basin. The Traditional Man: Rodney Marsh. A man who doesn’t like being beaten by “girls” and has an innate belief that they are weaker and cry at anything. It is easier to forgive Rodney due to his age and background, but still. The New Chauvinist: John Burton Race. Also thinks women are weaker but in an altogether more modern sense, he has fewer legs to stand on than a very bad wine. He’s intolerably sexist at every turn - from the moment the poor, weak little women JUMPED out of a helicopter, where his response was “I bet most women wouldn’t have managed that.”, to daily jibes about how they will fail to cope at the Bush Tucker Trial and that he should probably go instead of them. I’ve never liked him, not even when he made his whole family move to France with him just so he could grow some turnips. A family which he has now reportedly abandoned for the greener grass. At least Gordon Ramsey is a shouty chauvinist with balls.
The Uber-Flowery Spiritual Feminist: Lynne Franks. She has made her own attempt at single handedly proving John right. Even I would probably tell her to stop being a stupid woman, and I am one. Last week she tackled the tunnels of goo and insects very bravely, showing her strong independent side, but quickly undermined it by banging on about the task and over analysing it. This is exactly the kind of behaviour that gives us lot a bad name, the inner-seed-growing-flower-childvomit-inducing-earth-mother bullshit. Spiritualism combined with attention seeking seems pretty meaningless. The Woman Like A Man: Katie Hopkins. I expect nothing less from her. She plays the men at their own game in suits and with muscle. The only exception being that mildly psychotic ‘sweet’ smile plastered all over her face when results are read out. But here’s the rub - is playing by men’s rules making things more or less equal? Sure, it works for her,
ma knows her niche and she’s playing it well. The Smiling Girl’s Girl: Anna Ryder Richardson. She cries at scary and ‘uncomfortable’ things, likes to look nice even in the jungle and is overly-friendly to all - how very interior designer of her. The Dark Horse: “J”. He’s pleasant and seemingly unthreatening to both sexes. There is definitely more to this one than meets the eye, including brains. The Unthreatening Male: Christopher Biggins. Women flock to him like moths to a flame and let him feel their boobs. Classic. Playful Puppy: Marc Bannerman. Loves women like he loves food - a little too much perhaps. Is outwardly quite sweet and tries not to hurt a fly. This is pretty unconvincing due to his current flirtation with Cerys in front of his girlfriend and the entire population of Britain. The Boyfriend Stealer: Cerys Matthews. Effortlessly cool fits she in with the boys whilst still at ease with the girls. S h e keeps you guessing. You would neither suspect or be surprised by Cerys’s actions and would most likely continue to like her despite any. The Big Personality: Janice Dickenson. She fits into neither role because she’s got one all of her very own and it’s incredibly entertaining at every turn. Although a minefield of gender pitfalls this slice of Australian jungle showcases many themes at play in everyday society and that, I think, is probably what makes it so goddamn fascinating.
the inner-seed-growin g-flower-child-vomit-in ducingves us lot a bad name gi t hi lls bu r he ot m hrt ea but it doesn’t seem to be doing much for the rest of womankind, given that most women instantly hate anything resembling Hopkins in an instant. Dividing female kind generally does nothing to make us stronger. And playing by the male rules only seems to subordinate us even further and proves their point. The Attractive Tomboy: Gemma Atkinson. These girls were always the most popular at school because they were good at sport, didn’t mind rude jokes and were fit with it. Gem-
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features
Someone Once Told Me.... Sophie Pycroft investigates a new photographic project that started on a beach in Goa...
IMAGE: SOPHIE PYCROFT
A
fter receiving an e-mail from a friend, Mario Cacciottolo has taken what was a small, obscure idea, and turned it into a mission, in which he intends for ‘everyone to get involved’. Someone Once Told Me is based on what people have been told by a family member, a complete stranger, or even someone they don’t like. Mario’s subjects write something that they remember being told, whether it be personal or totally random, and then attempt to display the emotion the that the words evoke in their faces. As you can imagine, the variation of people he has taken pictures of is vast, and the range of expressions and words are completely varied, but that, he claims, is what ‘makes it interesting’. Mario’s work isn’t like a lot of the photography that is around today; unlike the majority of photographers, the only digital editing he does is ‘what you can do in the dark-room’. The style of his work wouldn’t benefit from the glossy, air-brushed finish that most people are looking for, it’s about honesty and openness. There’s also something slightly scary about baring your emotions in front of a relative stranger’s lense, giving his work a sense of vulnerability. “Of course”, he says “there have been people who can’t think of anything to say, which I find hard to believe, I always say, there must be something, one person who couldn’t think of anything at the time e-mailed me to say that he regretted not being more open, and taking the opportunity to be involved in my work, that was nice.”
IMAGE: MARIO CACCIOTTOLO
features
IMAGE: MARIO CACCIOTTOLO
You get the impression from Mario that he’s a very honest person himself, as every five minuets he launches into another story from his travels, telling you everything he has done, about the people he’s met, and what impression they had on him. Mostly about his trips to India and Goa, where he must have made an impression on some of the people he met, as when he held an exhibition of his work in London, “two women I met on the beach in Goa came all the way there just to see me and my work, people were asking me when I told them how we’d met, ‘what did you do to these women on the beach?!’ I was just amazed that they had come all the way, and was glad that they enjoyed being a part of the exhibition.”
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“
Mario admits that he has yet to commit his own thoughts to print...
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IMAGES: MARIO CACIOTTOLO
Even though he has taken pictures of people from all over the world, Mario has found that most people have remembered something that a family member told them, he said the messages ‘don’t fall into cultural trends, it’s usually family that resonates’. So his project shows how people are bound by certain universal values, and everyone has something in common. Someone Once Told Me wasn’t just about learning something about new people, it was also intended to improve Mario’s photography skills. After attempting street photography, and discovering that it’s a lot harder than first anticipated, Mario decided it would be far easier to just approach different people and talk to them, so that is what he started doing, and his diverse portfolio began to emerge. When asked if he has ever added his own picture to his portfolio, Mario admits that he has yet to commit his thoughts and emotion to paper, maybe because after taking so many other profound portraits, he feels his might not stand up against them. Or maybe just because as he has found with other people, he just doesn’t have anything yet to say. Mario is always on the lookout for people to tell what someone has once told them and is currently running a compettition for people to have a go at their own photography. He features a new photo on his website each day, which then goes into an archive for people to browse through. While those photographed remain anonymous, Mario explains the context and the meaning behind each SOTM shot and unbelievably, he has never been told the same thing twice. Check out his website www.someoneoncetoldme.com and get involved. GC
features
Under the influence
This issue, Ruper Waldron is under the influence of Ian McEwan. After reading his novels and recovering from being utterly speechless, he tells Features just why Ian McEwan is so influential
I
have been under Ian McEwan’s spell for sometime now. He is an intensely fascinating, provocative and disturbing author with amazing storytelling and descriptive powers. His novels are incredibly evocative and enthralling, filled cover to cover with brilliant twists and turns, and images which get the heart racing. Steadily I am working my way through his distinct catalogue of wide and varied novels which probe areas other writers would not dare tread, and only when I have a complete set of McEwan novels will I be satisfied and begin to read them all through again, perhaps adding all the film adaptations to the collection as well. McEwan treats issues such as incest, cannibalism and lust in such imaginative and thrilling ways; his books are hard to put down, and what makes his writing all the more amazing is how he can compact such descriptive and detailed stories into often very short novels. His latest, On Chesil Beach, was short listed for this years’ Booker Prize and was criticized for being more of a novelette than a full length novel. Tipped as one of the favourites for the prize he was well in contention for winning his second Booker Prize, after winning the award for Atonement in 1998 which has recently been adapted into a brilliant film. Many of his books are short in length, but far from short in detail and substance. Books like ‘The Cement Garden’ and ‘In the Comfort of Strangers’ are punchy novelettes with sharp psychological twists. Ian McEwan has the unrivaled ability to keep a reader guessing right until the end of a book.
I have finished many of his novels speechless and not quite knowing what to do with myself. The power of everything he writes and describes so intuitively is inspirational. McEwan in my opinion is one of the greatest British writers of the past 20-30 years, never have I been moved in such a toe curing but captivating way. McEwan has a clear talent for short story writing. He has written two collections of stories, In Between the Sheets and First Love, Last Rites. In Between the Sheets is a collection of nerve tingling stories of love, lust, desire and plain madness. The book provides ultimate escapist entertainment and its short length makes it easy to read and impossible to put down.
Ewan turns his hand to more than just novels. He has also written screenplays, children’s stories, an oratorio and even an opera. McEwan’s artistic talents have over the years made him a highly revered writer. More often than not there is a disturbing psychological twist in his novels. McEwan has often been criticized as being very macabre. However he sees his writing as a personal reaction to society. Nicknamed Ian “macabre” it is very hard to disagree. The Cement Garden for one is a deeply disturbing but strangely entertaining novel, which involves children burying their dead mother in the cellar under piles of cement. This book among many of his other novels has been adapted for film, many of which he wrote the screenplay for. Atonement, which he did not get involved with, is the latest McEwan novel to have made it on to the big screen. His influence is far and wide. He is a well respected author around the globe and will remain so for as long as he continues to write. For me the attraction to his writing is the sheer depth of detail which captures mine and many other readers’ imagination. His books are also challenging but not overtly so. He has the ability to approach subject matter in an entertaining and enjoyable way, in a way few others could do. We all have our favourite authors but I urge anyone who has not read a McEwan novel, to do so. It may just be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
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features
To tea or not to tea... ght not mi ys da 5 r fo a te up ng vi Gi for sound like a big deal... But ing her Shanta Miller, it meant risk friendships and her sanity
I
stayed in last Saturday night. I had work to catch up on, my housemates were either out at work or visiting their parents for the weekend, and I also had to have a break from the drunken abuse of my overdraft. A night in like this needs tea, a lot of tea. Whether it’s the smell, taste, warming comfort of tea, or just the general ‘ness’, I don’t know, but I love it. It gets me ‘up and at ‘em’ in the morning, guides me through a gruelling day of lectures, libraries and note- taking; and gently sends me off to ‘bedfordshire’ every evening. A constant friend, companion, pick me up; and ice-breaker, displacement activity and work avoider; the overseer of heart-to-hearts, gossiping and shy first dates. Even the £4.95 bottle of vodka from our corner shop cannot rival tea as a beverage. Tea quite simply rules; “kicks butt” if you will. When I was asked to give up tea for the week (a mere 5 days) I thought I might be a bit tired, but otherwise could handle it. Nothing too extreme, I thought. No no no…oh my naivety!
Sunday Before going to bed, I clear out all the mugs from my room, which have gradually taken up residence over a course of heavy tea drinking. If I’m going to do this, I need no distractions. 1.04am: Can’t stop thinking about
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imminent lack of tea, am not concentrating on seminar readings. It is already affecting my work. 2.15am: Attempts to dunk Hobnob into housemates tea and taste tea residue: foiled. 11.15am: My morning ritual rudely interrupted, but I can take it; it’s not even been 24 hours right? Turn to cornflakes and a healthy glass of water…not quite the same somehow. 12.21pm: Bloody housemates enjoy their lunchtime tea loudly, upping the ante by leaving still warm, but empty, mugs in my room. 3.10pm: By now I’d normally have had 5 or 6 cups of tea. Instead, I’ve had 5 glasses of water. Not nearly as enjoyable and I’m peeing like a racehorse. Going to see if hot chocolate fills the void. 5.25pm: Decided to try and relive childhood memories with hot blackcurrant instead of tea; a big mistake. Obviously I’m so unaccustomed to making any hot drinks other than tea I have mentally regressed and failed to equate a boiling kettle with boiling hot blackcurrant. I can no longer feel the roof of my mouth or my tongue. 10.44pm: Get in. Chocolate hobnobs and coffee is so filling the void; back in the game.
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It’s dark and cold outside and the kettle is drawing me in like a magnet...
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features
Monday 8.12am: No-one was in the kitchen and I (ashamedly) thought no-one would ever know if I had a quick cuppa. No one did ever know, as we didn’t have any milk. Bastards. 11.00pm: No lectures on a Monday, so normally a good day. Ha! A headache set in as I had a shower this morning and hasn’t budged. Surely it can’t be caffeine withdrawal already?
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Friends suggest I try a caffeine substitute, but I’m not weak - I don’t need caffeine!
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Tuesday 2.10pm: Yesterday was, quite frankly, hellish. I may seem over the top to say this, but really it was. I had a headache all day, was falling asleep all over the place and biting people’s heads off left, right and centre. Today was not great either. A 9.30am lecture doesn’t help, but I normally start the day with a cup of tea at 8am, which clears the head and jollies me along. I even wake-up my not-good-inthe-morning housemate with tea and feel no threat to my life, as I know she wouldn’t murder anyone bringing her tea. I just couldn’t face it today. 4.20pm: Just back from a music society meeting; we were discussing the tea rota for orchestra rehearsals and I was salivating. Really. Hot chocolate, blackcurrant, and chocolate milk are all failing to fill my tea-shaped void… this is getting daft now. 10.12pm: I really need a cup of tea! It’s dark and cold outside and the kettle is drawing me in like a magnet. I’ve got the shakes and can barely keep my eyes open. I never would have believed someone if they said I was actually addicted to tea. I mean, it’s quite absurd; it’s a hot beverage!
I seek medical advice form my 3rd year medic friend (though I would actually go to the doctor with the severity of this, I’m just too embarrassed. I know how men with penile dysfunction feel) and he laughs at me telling me not to be stupid, its all in my mind. He is a bit taken aback though when I explain I would normally be on my 8th cup of the day. “Er…that is quite a lot of tea actually...maybe it’s good you’re giving it up for a while?” Whatever. 10.44pm: Get in. Chocolate hobnobs and coffee is so filling the void; back in the game.
Wednesday 6.00pm: So, I understand that going to bed at 1am and then being woken up by our vicious doorbell at 5.30am by a drunk friend who’d lost their key isn’t the key to a good night’s sleep. But if I had a cup of tea now I would slowly feel myself mentally reviving and preparing for my lectures.
Instead, I’m a mess. Entirely sleep through my first lecture (and with only 20 people in attendance this is fairly embarrassing for all concerned), and then eat jacket potatoes and cornflakes in a manic way, as if this will somehow help. Instead I feel sick and the size of a buffalo. Not great. Now getting ready to go out for Halloween. Normally the anticipation of a night of fancy dress and alcohol has me jumping around for joy. I can barely grin with conviction let alone jump. I am exhausted. Friends suggest I try a caffeine substitute, but I’m not weak - I don’t need caffeine!
Thursday I do, obviously, need caffeine. Thank the dear lord this is the last day. I’m hungover, it may only be mildly (my Halloween japes weren’t all that japery), but I’m bumbling around still asleep without making any sense. A normal hangover you might say. But no, I never expected to feel like this. I just cannot bring myself to do anything. I can normally laugh off a hangover with my friends and get on with it, but even the smallest of challenges (putting on my shoes) are causing severe moral dilemmas. Do we need shoes? Why cant we all be bared footed in a psychedelic 1960s type way? (We live in Cathays, I wouldn’t normally go outside without shoes for fear of contracting tetanus or being eaten by a rat.) To be having thoughts like this at 8.45 in the morning is surely not good. Roll on midnight.
Friday 12:02am: TEA TEA TEA!!! All is ok again.
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Fiestas & Siestas travel
Whether you study French, Spanish, German or Italian, being an Erasmus student is an exciting experience. Kirsty Page finds out what life in Cáceres is all about…
I
could see myself swanning around Europe’s finest cities, embracing café culture and fulfilling the role of enigmatic foreigner, but alas – it was not to be. A degree in English Literature confined me to Cardiff for a full three years but for hundreds of students, a year abroad is an exciting and unique part of university life. Students are all over the continent spreading the Cardiff love, and one such place is Cáceres in the west of Spain. I escaped the British weather and went to suss out its credentials on a complimentary sun and beer filled week courtesy of Quench and Tour Espana (I’m sure you all resent me for this, and I’m sorry.)
ful buildings, with a great Provincial Museum if you fancy a bit of culture. The museum contains some impressive cisterns (pictured above) as well as an extensive array of historic artefacts. There are plenty of places to eat and drink, watching the world go by in the relaxed and atmospheric Plaza Mayor. The towns of Mérida, Trujillo and Guadalupe are full of history and can be visited as day trips along with the stunning Monfrague National Park. While Madrid, Barcelona and Bilbao grace the covers of many a travel brochure, Cáceres remains relatively unknown. I experienced first class
Located in the Extremadura region, Cáceres is not a million miles away from Cõrdoba, Seville or Madrid but there are a host of smaller towns to enjoy nearby. Caceres itself is a little gem ready to be explored with its beautifully maintained palaces, churches and convents, declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. It is a maze of little alleyways, beauti-
hospitality, top-notch food and the nice feeling of not being surrounded by hundreds of other holidaymakers. So if you are having a year out in Spain, I can assure you Cáceres wont let you down. And if that’s not enough to persuade you, maybe Katy Gorman, third year Spanish and English Literature student can convince you further…
the e continent spreading th er ov l al e ar ts en Stud Cardiff love, and one such place is Caceres
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SPANISH TOURIST OFFICE PO Box 4009 London , W1A 6NB 24 Hour Tel: 020 7486 8077 Information 08459 400 180 Tel. 020 7486 8077. Fax: 020 7486 8034. E-mail: info.londres@tourspain.es www.spain.info/uk
travel It’s like a throw back to the 80’s with boom boxes and the boys trying to see who can attract the most girls! Are there some things that have taken some getting used to? The shops closing at midday and everyone kissing each other twice on the cheeks. Is the style of teaching similar to Cardiff? Yes, lectures are similar and there aren’t many difference between the academic programmes here and back in Cardiff. It can be quite hard following lectures in Spanish but it gets easier. I actually do a bit of teaching myself, giving English lessons. People are eager to learn English and it’s a good way to meet people and earn a bit of money. Location: Hotel Arora, Cáceres Katy was wearing a smart pair of white trousers and a nice green top. She had a glass of white wine. Kirsty looked significantly less stylish, drank a coffee and ate some nuts along with a few questionable illuminous orange sweets.
Have you managed to explore much of Spain since you’ve been here? I’ve been to Salamanca and Madrid and hopefully I’ll visit Grenada soon. If you are having a year in Spain, there will be other students from Cardiff all over the country so there is potential to see a lot of Spain.
Are you enjoying your time here in Cáceres? Definitely! It’s nice to be somewhere different and I have met a lot of cool people.
It’s true what they say about the Spanish being crazy party people!
What was the most nerve-racking think about moving to Spain? Finding a flat was probably the scariest thing. It’s not like Cardiff where there are lots of agencies and landlords. People advertise for housemates by sticking posters up on lampposts so I literally went and looked at all the lampposts to find a house! The International Relations office is there to help though. Have you found many differences between student life here and Cardiff? It’s true what they say about the Spanish being crazy party people! They have dinner at about 10pm, go for a few drinks and sometimes won’t arrive at the club until about 4am. There are some places that open at 6am and people get home at 9 in the morning! They also have something called ‘Botellon’ which literally means ‘bring a bottle.’ Hundreds of people, mainly students, go to an open area outside the centre and have a big outdoor party.
“
What do you like best about Cáceres and miss most about Cardiff? I miss my friends, playing netball and the union! It’s nice being here though because it’s a great way to practice the language. English isn’t as widely spoken here as it is in other regions, so it is really good for encouraging you to speak Spanish constantly. There’s a feeling of satisfaction when you manage to communicate with Spanish people and you can feel yourself getting better. It’s nice to be able to sunbathe a lot as well! What advice would you give someone who was going to study abroad? Just take it as it comes. Adjust yourself to the way of living, throw yourself into it and you’ll enjoy it whilst getting better at the language all the time. The first few weeks are the hardest but you will meet loads of people and make lots of new friends so just relax and enjoy it!
Head south from Spain, and you find youself in Morocco: destination for the annual charity hitchike
O
utside the union, cold, wet and a little despondent, I never could have guessed in a week’s time we would have made it to the shores of North Africa and be dining on homemade Tajine under the starry Saharan night. Costing no more damage to the overdraft then a couple nights out we were able to sample a diversity of scenery, towns, accommodation, wine, language barriers, cuisines, service stations (all overpriced), cultures and music even before reaching Morocco. The negative reputation of hitchhiking became quickly unfounded with the ease and generosity encountered in completing the 1600 mile journey within a week (including a couple nights out in San Sebastian). We were met with offers of food, drink, housing and support for our cause from all sorts of people. Our envisaged hippy stereotypes were challenged with a variety of lifts ranging from a balding business CEO to a thrash metal loving female lorry driver to a fashionable Alpha driving couple who raced us along the Costa del Sol for the ferry to Tangiers. Onboard we befriended other hitchers who couldn’t agree more; this was an incredible trip for a worthwhile cause. The Link Community Development hitchhike has run since 1992 in the cause for improving education in projects throughout Africa. The 2008 Hitch sets off from Cardiff to Morocco (approximately 6 days) and Prague (approximately 3 days). You go in groups of 2 or 3. Those interested should contact cardiffhitch@hotmail.co.uk, join facebook group Cardiff Hitch 08’ and visit www.lcd.org.uk/events to find out more.
travel@gairrhydd.com /
15
gay
Death of the GBF W Sick of your boyfriend? Desperate for new Manolos you can’t afford? Surely your good old gay buddy will solve all your problems and make you quiche? Sara PageTowers is not so sure...
hat is the must-have accessory for women? Handbags? Sunglasses? Jewellery? The list goes on. But what about a gay best friend? One thing that Bridget Jones’s Diary and Sex and the City has taught us is that no crisis can be solved, no great night out can be had, and no relationship can be embarked upon without the advice and camp fluttering of a GBF. After all, what self-respecting gal would be without that extra bit of fabulous in her life? But what if the stereotype doesn’t stick? Not every gay man has an innate tendency toward drama, and just because he happens to be attracted to the same sex doesn’t necessarily mean that he wants to exchange hair tips or swap comments on hot guys. I admire one of my best friends for many reasons: he is intelligent, loyal, and is one of the funniest people I have ever met. Oh, and he’s gay. When we first became friends, I naturally had a moment of looking forward to having a GBF, but he soon dashed my hopes - not only did he hate shopping, he didn’t even gossip that much! It didn’t take me long to get over it though. Our friendship developed through college and then uni and, although some people did remark on how fun it was to have a gay best friend, I never thought of his sexuality as a key part of his personality or as something that defined him. I have met a lot of girls who have
GBF
raved about having a homosexual husband. They thrive on going gay clubbing and making bitchy comments over cocktails. Rarer but worse still are those that have struck up a friendship with a guy purely because he is gay, aiming to get that coveted GBF. It is not unusual to see girls that suddenly change their attitude when they are around their gay friends, often taking to air-kissing and long-winded conversations about men. I’m not saying that these relationships are fake, nor am I saying that it is wrong. Each to their own or whatever. In many cases the male companion himself can play up to the role as much as his best friends. What I am saying is that not all gay best friends are GBFs. I don’t go clothes shopping with my best friend because I know for a fact that he would moan until I relented and we both headed for the pub. Likewise, he is no better than any straight man at noticing a new hairstyle or commenting on an outfit. I suppose the point is that not all friendships between a girl and a gay guy should be a sit-com waiting to happen. It’s ok if your gay best friend doesn’t tell you how fabulous you are, or if your straight friend doesn’t want to go gay clubbing. Life isn’t always like books and films, and a friend should never be seen as a fashionable accessory. I for one count myself lucky to have a BF that also just so happens to be G.
...noun
1. typically used by a straight person when referring to someone with whom they have a close simpatico. They click on several levels and have a lot of fun together, sharing of advice, etc. But there is no romantic interest. Can be used across and within genders.
16 / gay@gairrhydd.com
fashion
GENDER BLENDER
How does gender influence fashion? Are the boundaries really as black and white as they seem? And does the opposite sex dictate the way we dress?
Photography and styling: Sophie Pyecroft Model: Hannah Pyecroft
fashion@gairrhydd.com / 17
fashion
Top
5Androgenous Icons
David Bowie
No other quite connotes androgyny like The Thin White Duke. He has covered trends as diverse as glamrock, disco and avant-garde electronica, but it is his eccentric and flawless femininity that establish Mr Stardust as a formidable fashionista.
Marlene Dietrich
A screen siren not afraid to step out in style, with her trademark trouser suit, bow tie and a masculine hat instituting Dietrich as a fashion icon of the silver screen.
Madonna
From rough-and-ready cowgirl to her suited-andbooted ‘Express Yourself’ chicness, Madonna has always kept in Vogue!
David Beckham
Even minus the controversial sarong, there’s still something slightly effeminate about Mr Golden Balls.
Jake Shears
Outlandish and outrageous in both style and stage performance, He’s filthy, gorgeous and not afraid to gender blend. James Moore
18 / fashion@gairrhydd.com
fashion
WHO DO WE DRESS FOR? DRESSING FOR GIRLS
The average man doesn’t have a clue about fashion. Chances are that as long as a girl is wearing a low cut top or a short skirt then he’ll think that she looks good. But to me that’s not fashion! High Street Fashion at the moment is all about chunky knits, skinny jeans, ankle boots and lots of sparkle! Now, one male friend told me ankle boots look like Miss Piggy shoes (which is just ridiculous), another said sparkly dresses are OTT, (but you can never have too much sparkle), and in no way does a chunky knit show off a good figure (yet it’s being paraded up and down every catwalk this season). So why do I wear all these things with pride despite being mocked by all the men I know? I wear them because they say to other girls that I care about myself. Going shopping gives me a chance to socialise with my girlfriends and my nice clothes are a way of separating myself, or identifying with, other women. The proof of a good outfit is another girl complimenting you. That’s when you know you’ve got it right. Simple as that. Anna Greenslade
DRESSING FOR BOYS
The female of the species adorns herself with beautiful clothes, aromas and jewels to attract a mate. Fact. We get all dressed up for a night out so we feel and look sexy. Many fashion trends bow down to this, one can’t deny that 60’s mini dresses are attractive to boys. Also, if we feel good about the way we look, the clothes we are wearing, we’re going to give off confident vibes (which everyone knows guys love!). Boys may not know much about fashion, but they know what there are attracted too. Getting a compliment from a girl is good, but getting one from a guy is even better! Sarah Jones
fashion@gairrhydd.com / 19
interviews
I
Chris Conroy chats pies, tea, cartoons and music with the sublime DJ/producer combo that is Mr Scruff. 20 / interviews@gairrhydd.com
interviews
It’s quite common for you to be playing Cardiff. Why is it that everyone continues to come down time after time? When on the road we have a lot of control of the sound and even the way the room is presented. When people arrive we can make everyone feel relaxed so there’s never any hint of aggression. Aggression makes girls not want to come to gigs. Gigs without girls aren’t cool.
playing records etc. No one else is doing the same thing. Sometimes I visualise a cartoon band when writing my stuff. I don’t think there are many (non-live) acts who translate well with a live band. Most artists have their own range of merchandise these days; You
You also played at Glastonbury this year. Were you particularly impressed by anyone who performed? I didn’t get much chance to see much, although I did manage to catch Soil & Pimp Sessions who were
.. to come to gigs. t n a w t o n ls ir g s e good. Aggression mak I also caught Bjork and ...Gigs without girls aren’t cool Damien Marley.
These days your sets are well long, reaching up to 5-6 hours. Have you ever considered getting a support act in? Playing such long sets allows me to have control of all aspects of the room. It’s got to the point in my career where I can play pretty much what I want. I’ve had bad experience with support acts that don’t understand sometimes quieter or slower music is more effective at the beginning of the night. Different people come for different parts of the night, this gives me the chance to show the connections between genres. Many people have heard the Quantic Soul Orchestra cover of your ‘Get A Move On’ using a live band. Have you ever thought of getting together a group of musicians yourself to perform any of your material?
seem to have taken it a step further with oven gloves, umbrellas and your own brand of tea. What’s the inspiration behind such unusual products? Just being silly. I thought I like tea, why can’t I get a brew when I’m DJing. So we started selling tea at the gigs, which kind of led to selling mugs. The mugs led to selling tea pots which led to other daft ideas such as aprons and the pie catchers (oven gloves). At the Big Chill festival umbrellas seemed a good idea too. All this stuff has the same element of cheekiness as the music.
Tell us a bit about ‘Make Us A Brew’ Tea? We’ve been selling tea for years. At one point we even had a t-shirt printed of a made up tea called “Grandad’s Choice”. On one occasion the fair trade tea we bought to sell was bitter. So I thought let’s bring out our own tea brand. But it was really just another daft idea. (You can now buy ‘Make Us A Brew Tea’ at Selfridges). Mr. Scruff’s new single is awaiting release toward the end of the year. The new album features Quantic, Alice Russell and Kaidi Tatham (Bugs In The Attic) and will be released on Ninja Tune, but we won’t be seeing it until early next year.
No, at the moment I like what I’m doing, travelling around
interviews@gairrhydd.com /
21
PHOTO: ANNIKA HENDERSON
interviews
B.R.M.C just ooze cool... and possibly a drop or two of motorcycle oil. Garage rock’s leatherclad, tough boys and arguably the 21st century’s answer to Clint Eastwood in his Spaghetti Western days, are back and currently on a sell-out tour of Europe. Annika Henderson caught up with Peter Hayes of the band, at Bristol’s Anson Rooms.
W
ith the faint sound of an acoustic guitar being strummed in the distance, I climb the smoke-filled staircase to find bearded Martin of support band and 9 black alps, hung over his guitar. BRMC’s Peter stands, slouched against the opposing wall. I have found my man. We settle in a deserted corridor and perch upon two disused office
chairs. Taking a long, casual drag from his soggy roll-up, Peter immediately shrugs off NME’s ‘New Rock Revolution’ label, which has clung to them like a hungry tick to a dog. “That’s what their job is i guess...to come up with that kind of stuff and discover bands or make themselves feel like they’ve discovered bands. You can label me all the fuck you want ahahaha you can’t stop anybody
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from doing that! The only problem with that is, it comes down to, ‘what are you doing next week’? ‘What are you doing next month’?” But the band wasn’t fazed by this challenge and Peter hastens to add that it was not this that pressured them into bringing out their second album so soon. “I guess we did get trapped a little bit in the record company machine, as far as they tend to
interviews pull the plug once the tour is over and say get in the studio and we didn’t know any better, so we went, sure we’ve got songs.” I dare to question what he thought of the press’s negative response to the seemingly ‘rushed’ follow up. With an air of indifference and a tug of his scarf, Peter comments “we’re pretty used to that, a lot of people have got opinions. A lot of people like it, a lot of people don’t.” After a somewhat rocky but nevertheless impressive six years in the business, the band appear more than used to the mixed reviews and regular speculation regarding the welfare of their English drummer, Nick Jago, who took a break from the band in 2003 to enter rehab, just months before the band were due to record their 3rd album, Howl. Despite all four albums being very different, it was this album which proved to be the most controversial of the lot. Aggravated when I suggest that Howl was a result of Nick’s
“
selves to people and Howl was merely the final introduction, in terms of the types of music they like. Howl’s ‘Gospel Song’ had in fact been written for the first album but was held back because the band thought they had too many songs about Jesus on that album. I ask whether the band are quite religious, to which he cautiously replies “Er.... maybe. I donno....kinda steer clear of that.” In response to my bemused look, he elaborates “I guess the only way I really see it, is you can be as unreligious as you want but there’s people killing still over religion and if their god is money, they’re still killing over their religion. It’s affecting your life even if you’re not religious. So why not talk about it.” Elated that I have finally squeezed a droplet of blood out of the stone, I decide to carry on with this path of interrogation. ‘Your songs can be quite political at times too,’ I probe. ‘Do you then express things that you think are relevant to other people,?’ to which he guffaws and
know, that ain’t gonna help nothing... particularly. Some days you feel like saying fuck the US government, so you do it and then it’s over. You get it out. It feels good. You gotta get it out some way! it’s like calling up your ex and you go ‘hey fuck you’,” He chuckles menacingly. I nod in agreement, various regretted texts flash before me. To which he begins to go off on a slight tangent “A lot of interviewers ask did you start playing music for the drugs and the girls? No. I started playing music because it made me healthy. I have a problem in my brain and when I play music it goes away! I’m sick! I’m fucking sick! So I play music and it helps.” I quickly change the subject and ask after the band’s latest album, Baby 81. “Yeah, Its incredible. It’s nice to know you can survive even though record companies are disintegrating. We never sold a whole lot, never got to the point where we were selling millions. The most we sold is one hundred thousand records. So it
I’d like to pick up a gun and shoot George Bush in the head, if i had the chance but you know, that aint gonna help nothing...
absence, he quickly explains that they had always planned to do the record. “We’re fans of Sam Cooke, a lot of blues, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Bob Dylan.” He sees the album as a way of practicing their freedom and passionately suggests that, “It’s an art form that’s just different from what people conceive us to be. When you think rock and roll, you think loud guitars and something else I guess. We wanted to basically respect that type of music with a full album, not just b-sides and one track fillers where people go ‘that’s cute’, ‘oh they do that too’, ‘that’s nifty’.” He tells me that the purpose of the first 3 albums was to introduce them-
abruptly states “No. It’s mostly relevant to myself and if it happens to be relevant to anyone else, great! I don’t need anybody else talking about it. Not really the way I need to have it heard...” He thoughtfully looks at the ground and in a somewhat disengaged mannor, lights the loose threads hanging from the foot of his jeans. I recoil in defense as a huge flame ignites in front of me. He laughs and continues his trail of thought. “You know, in music, you can spit it out of your own brain. That way you can move on from it. Some days you’d like to kill somebody over it. I’d like to pick up a gun and shoot George Bush in the head, if I had the chance but you
”
doesn’t matter a whole lot. We tour and that’s the main thing and keep playing so you don’t really feel the effect of low record sales. That’s cool. Everyone’s gonna be coming down to our level haha.” So would you carry on performing as long as Led Zeplin and the Rolling Stones? I ask. ‘Yeah, I would really...I have a lot of respect for Dylan, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Motorhead, Neil Young...For guys and bands that can move around, change their styles but still be what they are.” You couldn’t have done an office job then? I conclude. “No, I might have snapped!”
Baby 81 is out now. interviews@gairrhydd.com /
23
interviews
How
Is Now!
With the Swn festival in its debut year Michael Bateson-Hill and Matthew Hitt talk to some of the faces that made the three day festival a big sucess. Why did you chose to play Swn festival? Huw has always played our stuff and we’ve done interviews for him for a long time. We were supposed to be in America but when he got in touch and asked us to do it, we were like yea! People have looked out for us in the past, you know what I mean. So we were really happy to play.
Ryan Jarman
So you’ve been to Cardiff before? When we first played here it was down to The Loves, we were mutual friends. I think The Loves and the Cribs have always had a nice relationship. What do you think, as a non-Welshman, about the Welsh music scene? I like The Loves a lot. Los Campesinos, they’re on the same label, and they seem like nice guys. Its always for festivals like this to see local stuff that’s coming out. At the end of the day when people say bands from Wales people think its like the Stereophonics but fuck that man! But this sort of thing I think is good, I know for a fact there’s good bands here. Events like this are good to shine a light on local things like this.
Huw Stevens
How did the genesis of Swn arrive? Well I went to other festivals similar to this and I thought Cardiff needs something like Loads of good bands. Cardiff is a small city, a close-knit scene and we wanted to see if it works and I think it has worked really. It’s also good to bring loads of good bands to Cardiff. We approached loads of good promoters in Cardiff as well, you know like Forecast, Twisted by Design and Loose, and then we asked labels who we love like Wichita and Domino. Was the split between English and Welsh bands a conscious thing? The Welsh and English thing is really important but I want people to see Threatmantics or The Spencer McGarry Season because they’re brilliant, not because they’re Welsh. I think the line up is pretty much fifty-fifty and they’ve all got something in common because they’re alternative and quite specialist but people who like bands know who the bands are.
Beirut So why are you busking in the middle of Cardiff? Oh, that’s for a BBC 6 show. For a show I’ve never heard of. Cool, how much did you make? Erm.. we made £23 but we’ve got to split it between 8 people. But apparently we beat Jose Gonzalez which is pretty amazing really. How long are you here for? We’re just here tonight then off to London and Paris.
24 / interviews@gairrhydd.com
interviews You’re playing Swn tonight but you’ve played the Cardiff/Bristol area quite alot recently, why is that? Yeah I’ve played around this area loads recently, its because nobody knows who I am, that’s why I’m touring so much. I’ll have to tour for the next five ears. But stick around for the weekend there’s loads of cool stuff.
Eugene McGuiness
What do you make of the whole Swn festival idea? Well, Huw Stevens is a bit of a legend. And its really good that Huw Stevens is really championing Welsh music, because there’s definitely like a Welsh Indie thing going on. Like a couple of years ago it was all the Stereophonics but like now there’s stuff like Euros Child who is brilliant. People seem to be flocking to Wales to see what’s going on. Whats your view on state of music coming out of Wales at the moment? Its cool Wales has got its own thing, its not like just a load of Libertines rips offs, like London, so that’s cool. Although maybe sometimes I’d love to have a million scenesters watching me, stroking their beards indifferently.
John Rostron How did you and Huw get the festival up and running and who will you be seeing? We’ve (John Rostron and Huw Stevens) created a new company called swn festival limited, which we’re putting on. If I wasn’t a punter I would definitely go and see Truckers of Husk, Deathly and the Do Locks and the Black Lips. As one of the co-founders of Swn whats your take on the Welsh/ English language split? Its good that the Welsh music world and the international music world collide because note for note they’ re just as good. Bands like The Cribs get to see like Space in the 50’s.
Emmy the Great How was playing in Spillers. Do you like these small instore things? Its actually the biggest instore I’ve ever done. It’s the most people that’ve ever showed up. I think Huw Stevens contacted someone and its good because he’s been really supportive of me and stuff so that’s cool. Who do you admire or want to see particularly? I wanted to watch George Pringle but she’s on the same time I am. But I’ve seen her before and she’s really good. I guess that’s just part of playing a festival. Oh well!
interviews@gairrhydd.com /
25
food
You are w hat you eat
Did students evolve from dairylea pasta? Kath Petty, braves the streets of Cardiff to find out
I
recently thought back to what first got me interested in cooking. In the first year, I made the most unusual of dishes, which I called ‘Dairylea Pasta’. Consisting of cheap fusilli pasta, mayonnaise, cheddar cheese, corned beef and as much Dairylea as I could get my hands on, it was literally a coronary on a plate (by all means, try it yourself but if it goes global, please, give me some acknowledgement). Why did I love it so much? Because it made my flatmates love me, and that’s when I started to get interested in cooking. I also thought at the time that it was delicious. Thinking back, I can’t think what on earth possessed me and my
flatmates to gorge on this meal for the best part of a year, as well as others, usually involving mayonnaise, some sort of packaged meat, quite often pepperami, the student staple of things in a can and the odd Rocket Joe’s, all slathered in a mayonnaise-based sauce I invented called Special Sauce. So, does the entire student population eat like this? Or, have they evolved into fully-fledged epicureans, whose noses turn at the very sight of a baked bean. I went to investigate, preying on fellow Cardiffians on our beloved hunting grounds, to find out exactly what they eat, what they know and how often we really eat takeaways…
Becky, 1st Year Spanish 1. Steak and potatoes dauphinoises from Ha-ha’s 2. About once a week 3. I’ll eat anything so long as it doesn’t have tomato sauce and beans in it. 4. Authentic tapas in Spain 5. Everyday 6. A full English breakfast 7. I made corned beef hash, but didn’t realise there were drawing pins in the baking tray, so there were pins in the corned beef hash!
26 / food@gairrhydd.com
The questions we asked:
1. What did you eat for dinner last night? 2. How often do you get takeaways or eat out?
3. What is the worst meal you’ve ever cooked for yourself or eaten 4.
What is the best meal you’ve ever cooked for yourself or eaten?
5. How often do you cook a proper meal for yourself or your housemates?
6. What would be your last supper? 7. Do you have any weird student food stories?
Carrie, 1st Philosophy and RS 1. Dominos pizza 2. About once a week 3. I tried to make pancakes that went horribly wrong 4. Chilli the other day which was pretty good 5. A couple of times a week 6. Since being in uni, probably a proper Sunday dinner. 7. I eat tomato sauce sandwiches
Lewis 1st year English Language 1. Home made curry 2. About once or twice. 3. Nothing 4. I made a pretty awesome lasagne. 5. Most days 6. A monstrous pizza 7. My friends like eating boiled onion.
food Lindsey, 2nd Year English Literature 1. Beans on toast 2. About once a week 3. I haven’t got one 4. Chinese takeaway 5. Everyday 6. Pizza 7. My housemates eat pasta with tuna, beans and cheese
“I once ate c ornflakes with vodka”, anon ymous
Gareth, Masters in European Neolithic 1. Burgers and waffles 2. About twice a week 3. Nothing, I eat everything 4.I made stuffed lambs hearts once, with sage and onion stuffing, in gravy 5. I cook for myself about once a week, otherwise I eat crap 6. The poisonous blowfish from Japan 7. I used to make pizza with tuna and beef bolognaise
Amy. gair rhydd Editor 1. A nutri-grain bar… hmm nutritious 2. We get pizza in the office on a deadline night, so about twice a week. I do tend to resist takeaways the rest of the time, although I do often get sucked into the kebab shop round the corner from me after a night out. 3. My mum tried to make coq au vin before, it was vile. 4. I made an awesome veggie lasagne on the weekend, it was the first time I’ve made lasagne and it was bloody good. 5. During the week I rarely have time to cook properly, but I love to cook at the weekend. 6. Swordfish. 7. In my first year I used to cook fish fingers in the toaster, it took forever and it made a lot of mess.
supper “My last rr y from u c a e b would ,” Bridgend us anonymo Peter, 2nd Year Law
” “I love making curr y! Jenny, 3rd year Eng lit Man with a cone on his head, 3rd year History 1. I had some sort of exquisite Chinese food with noodles 2. Hardly ever I eat out only on special occasions 3. The worst thing was probably those McDougall’s survival freeze pack curries while trekking in a jungle in Belize 4. Probably amazing cannelloni in an Italian restaurant in London. 5. I cook properly for myself about a couple of times a week; otherwise my parents cook for me. 6. An amazing Chinese meal, probably sweet and sour. 7. Exploding things in the microwave.
1. I had 3 microwaveable pizzas 2. Not very often, I hardly ever have takeaways and only eat at restaurants about once every
two months 3. Last year when I was running out of money, I ate cheap noodle sandwiches 4. Probably a steak with a béarnaise sauce and a glass of Dom perignon that I had at a restaurant once. 5. I make a proper meal about once or twice a week 6. It would probably be the meal above, with chocolate fudge cake with ice cream 7. I had housemates that cooked pasta with tuna, passata, banana, sweetcorn and relish.
food@gairrhydd.com /
27
final whistle
Matt Cutler shares his opinion on the xenophobic feelings that prevail on the sports fields
G
o home, you are ruining our
country! Unfortunately, people have come to expect a bit of racism now and again. ‘Those blasted immigrants taking our jobs!’ etc. But with sport I hear you say? Regrettably the wouldbe safe-haven microcosm which is usually free from the nastiness of the real world has become tainted. Of late there has developed a phenomenon which I would like to christen ‘sporting xenophobia’. It seems now that the racism has gone from the front page of everyone’s favourite tabloids straight to the back page. Just like how all the Eastern Europeans are coming over stealing “our” rightful jobs, so too overseas players are apparently swamping “our” leagues and English players can’t get a kick. This is a classic xenophobic tactic: something is not right so let’s blame it on someone or some thing which is an easy target. England’s football team don’t perform, blame the foreigners. England were close to not qualifying for Euro 2008 and that needed to be explained. Not the manager of the team, not the poorly performing players, but you guessed it: the overseas contingent is to blame.
‘Sporting xenophobia’ exists too, as a dirty habit within certain fanbases. Particularly abroad, black players can experience a great amount of racism cast upon them by idiotic fans. Frequently during matches on the continent monkey chanting can be heard, even directed onto players from a fan’s own side.
You, Sir, are a racist Ever since the apartheid era ended, South Africa has an unwritten quota system so that a certain number of black players will always be included in either a rugby or cricket international team. This means that a better player may lose out on his place just because of the colour of his skin. 2 weeks ago, a statement from sports minister Makhenkesi Stofile described his decision to scrap the quota system. “Quotas are out. We are not going to decide w h o m u s t be on the team. All we are saying is expose everybody, give them an opportunity,” Stofile said. This is the step forward in action against racism in sport that needs to be taken. Before looking to blame other people, maybe the media needs to have a look at why the team cannot perform as well as they should. The racism card is a soft option, and is often only used when nothing else can be put to blame. Not only the media, everyone needs to get on the anti-racism train so that philistines who practice racism know that it isn’t acceptable. There is no place for racism in sport. Leave the xenophobia to the front pages, thank you. Or better still: kill it off for good.
The racism card is a soft option and is often only used when nothing else can be put to blame In 2004, many will remember Shaun Wright-Phillips and Jermaine Defoe getting barracked with a torrent of abuse during England’s friendly with Spain in Madrid. Worse still, the Spanish FA were only fined £50,000, a ridiculously low amount of money which showed that the footballing authorities weren’t doing enough to eradicate it. It’s a sad truth that in the 21st century people still express such unacceptable and backward thinking. It’s even sadder when it seems nothing is going to be done about it. With all this doom and gloom, there is hope on the horizon nevertheless. Many of the big wigs in sport have spotted instances of sporting racism and are being proactive in stopping it.
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Blind Date
blind date
This week Ms Plush brings together two gorgeous singletons for an evening of fine dining and wine. With the wine flowing did they find love?
Claire
: chatty
Ms.P: So Claire, what would you give Stephen overall out of 10? Claire: I’d give him 7, I feel that’s fair. He’s an attractive guy, smart and funny, but just not really my type. And what were your first impressions of him? He was really friendly and chatty, as soon as we started talking I knew I would have a good time. And I was quite pleased to see he wasn’t minging. Were there any highlights of the date? I’d say the conversation. There were no awkward silent moments and we ended up staying for a couple of hours just talking about random stuff. He walked me home as well, which I thought was sweet. And the worst thing? It would be the fact that he said ‘job done’ an awful lot, which after a little while was a bit annoying, but that’s all! Bizarre. So would you want to meet up again? Only as friends, we got on really well but I didn’t come away thinking about when I was going to next see him and we haven’t made any plans to see each other again. So which would you rather: chuck him, fuck him or marry him? Now that’s a hard one….I wouldn’t chuck him because I genuinely had a good time, but I don’t really want to do the second, so I’ll go with marry. He seems like a gentleman and the time flew when I was with him, so if he gave up saying ‘job done’ I think I could handle it!
Stephen
: suave
Ms.P: Ok, so we’ve heard from Claire, now’s your chance to tell your side of the story. What did you think of her? Stephen: Out of 10 I’d give her a 9, she has a lovely personality and the conversation was really easy. And your first impressions? She looked like a very pretty, friendly girl. And what was your favourite part of the date? I loved having a decent conversation with an interesting girl! And any shocking moments? Can’t think of one! I had a really good time: the food was awesome and she was great. Nice! So as you had such a good time would you be up for meeting again? Yeah I’m sure we will see each other around! No concrete plans as yet though... So the infamous chuck/fuck/marry question? I’d rather have an Option D. Job done! Claire and Stephen enjoyed a rather tasty lunch at Varsity on Greyfriars Road.
Interested in a blind date? Email me, your very own sultry love goddess... blinddate@gairrhydd.com / 29
books
Books to read before you die...
Stuck for something to read? With a book all about obituaries reviewed on the next page, what better time than now to take a look at the five books you must read before you pop your clogs To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee (1960) It has been said that if you read only one book in your lifetime, make damn sure that it’s this one. Lee’s novel is set in the American Deep South of the 1930s and deals with childhood, race and class seen through the eyes of a young girl named Scout. Lee tenderly balances the issues of growing up and serious social issues such as race expertly. The book is centred on the trial of a black man accused of raping a young white woman, and the only lawyer for miles who had the courage to break the barriers of social inequality and defend the black man, Atticus Finch. A staple of the GCSE curriculum, don’t let memories of cold boring days in the classroom put you off; this book is a masterpiece and de-
serves to be read by everyone. The Big Sleep – Raymond Chandler (1939) A seminal work in the hard-boiled detective genre, The Big Sleep was the first of Chandler’s novels to introduce the brilliant yet flawed private detective Philip Marlowe. With wit as dry as a desert, the jaded Marlowe’s narration is perfect for this seedy tale of murder, blackmail and deceit, with classic lines such as “Neither of the two people in the room paid any attention to the way I came in, although only one of them was dead.” It takes a lot of attention to follow the fast-paced plot, with double crosses a dime a dozen, but Chandler’s work is easily one of the best crime novels out there; perfect for those who love a gritty urban noir.
Love in the Time of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1985) This classic novel is based around a love triangle involving the hopeless romantic Florentino, the free-thinking Fermina and the devoted rationalist Juvenal. Following the intertwining and complex stories of the three main characters from childhood to old age, Marquez uses an array of interesting plot devices to convey a story of enduring love, fidelity, obsession and death. With a big screen coming up, now is the time to pick up this book before it is released to the world in film form. Post Office – Charles Bukowski (1971) Bukowski’s first foray into prose, Post Office is a semi-autobiographical account of the writer’s working life balanced with a drink problem, gambling addiction and the seemingly hopeless task of becoming a renowned writer. Bukowski uses the fictional character Henry Chinaski as a mask for himself, with the anti-hero providing a despicable yet relatable voice. Legend has it that a publisher offered Bukowski $100 a month for the rest of his life to become a full-time writer, and with this tragic masterpiece as his first novel, it is an offer that I am glad that Bukowski accepted. Ulysses – James Joyce (1922) The only thing I will say here is “good luck”. Tom Williams
books@gairrhydd.com / 31
...news...news...news...news...news... The strange case of OJ books
I
t is one of those books that reputation precedes; OJ Simpson’s ‘hypothetical’ confession of the murders of his former wife and her friend, entitled If I Did It. After being pulled from publication by Harper Collins for fear of a public backlash, the rights to the book were bought up by one of the victims’ family members and it was released
recently. Perhaps fairly enough, the family has turned the book from a hypothetical confession of what OJ would have done into a statement of solid fact. They have removed Simpson’s right to royalties, instead giving all proceeds to charities. The strangeness, however does not stop there. This week a $100million lawsuit was
launched against Harper Collins and its parent company Murdoch’s News Corporation by former publisher Judith Regan, the original publisher, who was sacked when publication was pulled. Meanwhile, Simpson faces charges for armed robbery which could result in life imprisonment. Justice at last?
Spidey for all
M
arvel Comics have announced that they will be making older issues of their comics, featuring such characters as Spiderman, the X-Men and Wonder Woman, available online for the first time. For a monthly subscription fee, avid comic book fans will be able to access original stories featuring their favourite Marvel characters, but not to download them. Marvel hopes that the online issues, which are normally only to be found these days in specialist shops for a very hefty price, will allow newer fans to catch up on the complete stories of popular characters such as Spidey and the Fantastic Four, who have become widespread in popular culture of late. The move comes as rival comic book publishers such as Dark Horse and DC have already embraced the internet as a means of widening their audience, and indeed making a quick buck.
The Bibliophile Trumpet - Jackie Kay
J
ackie Kay is better known as black Scottish poet and Carol Ann Duffy’s ex, to whom this novel is dedicated. However, the
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pure love of Millicent and Joss make this my book of choice in times of angst. Trumpet chronicles the life of jazz legend Joss Moody, who is posthumously discovered to have been born female. Its non-linear structure and multiple but distinct narrators echo the varied instruments and tempos of jazz and the complexity of Joss’ life. The gaps left by the narrators and contradictions between close companions and outsiders give elusiveness to Joss. Although Joss and Millie’s relationship is essentially heterosexual
the queer themes such as the definition of sex, relations with families and how to create a child made this important to the burgeoning lesbian I was when I first discovered Trumpet. Today what appeals to me is the tender eulogy of his wife. Written in Kay’s sparse, everyday style, Millicent’s solitary grief and their blissful relationship is rendered very powerfully and memorably. Rachelle Simons
...reviews...reviews...reviews...reviews...books The Dead Beat ... Marilyn Johnson ... Souvenior Press
W
hat’s the one thing we all have in common? No, it’s not a mutual appreciation of the critical essays of Michel Foucault, nor is it the certainty of a huge debt, but rather death. Sorry! But fear not because there’s never been a better time to snuff it since there is a chance your life, yes you, could be immortalised through the invaluable power of words. That’s right, welcome to the glamorous world of obituaries or ‘obits’ as they are more commonly referred to. Indeed in her witty if not rather surreal book, Marilyn Johnson gives the reader an insight into the strange world of obituaries where the writers are equally as odd as their subjects. Johnson, with an eye for detail documents the evolution of the humble obit through a series of witty anecdotes and interviews with the big names in the world of death. Johnson not only focuses on the lives of the rich and famous, but also the lives of the ‘ordinary Joe’ (as they are known in obit lingo), my favourite being; “Selma Koch a Manhattan store
owner who earned a national reputation by helping women to find the right bra size, mostly through a discerning glance and never a tape measure died. She was 96 and a 34B.” Indeed Johnson notes the change in the history of the obituary. She jovially reminds the reader that obituaries are no longer homage’s to the wealthy lords and ladies, but rather obits are now a new form of journalism that serve to capture someone’s unique life regardless of background. Yet, perhaps the charm of the book itself, lies in its ability to touch on the more serious obits of 9/11 and such, yet avoids the trap of sappy sentimentality and ultimately reminds us that it is ok to laugh at the dead and their lives. So who knows, maybe you’ll snuff it tomorrow, so make sure you’ve done something worthwhile so that you too can have your 5-mins of posthumous fame. Michael Bateson-Hill
The Dark Covenent... Peter Luther ... Y Lolfa
O
n just flicking through the pages I was intrigued by the crossword puzzles throughout the book. As I read the book, it appeared that I was not the only one intrigued by it. The main character, Lewis, is in his late thirties. He is a lawyer from Cardiff who leads a boring day-to-day life. His intent is to leave Wales and start over again in Spain. The night before he plans to quit his job, he invites over a prostitute, who leaves him a peculiar magazine with an even more peculiar crossword puzzle.
the first of which appear to be clues to companies he should invest in on the stock market. In an ‘I don’t care anymore anyway’ attitude, Lewis decides to follow the strange advice, and slowly but surely the puzzle takes over his mind and actions. He quits smoking, gets a new client at his law-firm and meets some interesting individuals, both in reallife and in the peculiar magazine. It has been a long time since I read a modern book which managed to captivate me so fully. The author’s style is modern, yet very intellectual, which does not stand in the way of it being a smooth read. The story holds everyday topics, but the possession which the crossword holds over Lewis makes it stand out above the daily simplicity. A very refreshing and highly recommended must read. Natalia Popova
Step by step he fills in the words,
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arts
“
This week has been a mixed bag of artistic delights. Victorian novels, surreal humour and serious arts. Arts has it all...
Dickensian Dreams Wales Millennium Centre 7-10 November
D
avid Edgar’s celebrated adaptation of Dickens’ sprawling novel is exhausting for all the right reasons. This production is in two parts, which in total span near seven hours, and when watching the play in its totality over one day the scope of the production becomes apparent. One of Dickens’ earliest novels, Nicholas Nickleby was first published in 1838-9. It tells the story of Nicholas, who, when his family is left penniless by the death of their father ,goes out to teach. Astounded at the ill-treatment he witnesses in the school, Nicholas escapes with one of the lads, Smike. The two of them continue to fight against injustice, and despite Smike’s eventual death from consumption, the novel ends well. The stage fills with narrators; the 27-strong cast each relating the tale of young Nicholas Nickleby throughout. The set background is maintained for the play’s duration but the stage itself is constantly metamorphosing. The fluidity of the stage direction by Jonathon Church and Philip Franks on display here is impressive. Doused in amber lights and fog, the simpleyet-effective set conveys, among other things, the grime and bustle of early Victorian London, the cold reality of Squeers’ Yorkshire boys home, the opulence of scheming Ralph Nickleby’s and the warmth of English countryside. The illusion is helped by the believability of the principal cast, who balance the tone of the classically Dickensian farcical and dramatic elements of the original text. The associate director Jason Lawson explained that the play cost £92,000 per week to run and features over a thousand costumes
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to accommodate the needs of the constantly morphing cast. These figures become evident when bearing witness to a crowded, smog-filled London in a chaotic set born out of intense levels of organisation from the production team. All performances are strong here; David Weyman is solid in the role of Nicholas and has good interplay with
“
Nicholas Nickleby
The principal cast balance the tone of the classically Dickensian farcical and dramatic elements of the original text
David Dawson’s Smike, who appears to play the role of the abused ward as borderline autistic. Every member of the cast-bar Weyman-takes on several roles to accommodate the multitude of characters in Dickens’ epic story, and all manage to pull it off. The first part of the play bookends with the play-within-a-play of Romeo and Juliet, which provides a comedic highlight of the production as the ham members of Dickens’ epic theatre troupe do their best to slay the Bard’s work with the addition of twist endings, ridiculous performances and surprise cameo appearances (Olivia from Twelfth Night turns up at one point). It is a creative end to the first part of Nicholas Nickleby, invigorating an emotionally exhausted audience. Pip Donaghy deserves praise for his dual roles as the cruel schoolmaster Wackford Squeers and
lascivious Sir Mulberry Hawk, two characters who show such different sides of the same abhorrent face that I didn’t realise it was the same actor. Dickens’ can sometimes be accused of failing to sufficiently develop his heroines, who can often appear staid. Edgar’s adaptation does well with Nicholas’ sister Kate, played by Hannah Yelland, who remains strong through the adversity faced by her mercenary uncle Ralph, irreversibly damned by his failure to protect her from the attention of libertines. The play does this all while managing to respect Dickens’ pessimistic outlook on the casual misogyny at the time. Nicholas Nickleby, like the book that birthed it, is very long and filled with so many characters it can be a challenge to process for the unfamiliar, but this is a clever and lively adaptation and one of the Wales Millennium Centre’s ís more impressive ventures this year. Ewen Hosie
arts
Milton Jones - Caught in a Rabbit’s Headlights
Previews MUSICAL
Glee Club 8 November
I Have Never...
Heard of Milton Jones.
W
hen Milton Jones appeared on stage wearing a blue boiler suit, a reflective cycling strip and jewel-encrusted turban, I knew that this was not going to be just any old comedy night, and I was right. Milton Jones has been on the comedy circuit for over ten years now, and retains a kind of cult status which also makes him a relative unknown to most people. After seeing him live in this, his second national tour, it is easy to see why he has been around for so long. His kind of humour is enduring; avoiding contemporaneous issues, his act is a mixture of insightful but surreal one-liners with a couple of character based sketches thrown in. ‘Have you ever fallen asleep in a plate of broccoli and woken up thinking you were in a forest?’, he asks with genuine curiosity…see, I told you it was surreal! For someone who looks like he has just escaped from the secure wing of an asylum, he also does a damn good Columbo impression as well. Milton Jones is not for everyone, but he is clever and witty and kept me constantly entertained. For those who love surreal humour, or if you fancy something different, it’s a must. Amy Grier
Harry Holland: Twist
Harry Holland Exhibition
Martin Tinney Gallery 24 October-17 November
B
orn in 1941 in Glasgow and trained at the St Martin’s School of Art, London, Holland has been based in Cardiff since 1973. Since then, he has established himself as one of Britain’s most successful figurative artists. This exhibition was a stunning, lucidly-observed set of portraits which were sensuous and dreamy, yet photographic in their precision. Holland paints in a sparse style, favouring the neutral colours blue, white, brown and green. The focus was on the female face and form, interspersed with some classical nudes lazing in simple Mediterranean landscapes. While some paintings appeared to have a purely aesthetic aim, the artist also managed to create ambiguous, hardto-read facial expressions, as in Wandea or Sisters, implicitly suggesting the lubricity intrinsic to everyday life. A hint of idealisation and nostalgia for a more innocent age lingered in some of the pieces. The women nearly all fitted the model of ideal Grecian beauty, and several wore virginal white dresses. But Holland subtly complicated this concept of purity by including portraits such as Swirl, where a young girl holds a translucent veil over her head and in doing so reveals her right breast, creating an image which was both innocent and sexualised. There was something very organic about this collection; the eye of the subject did not often meet that of the viewer, giving the external outsider a natural keyhole into his or her world. In Model, a female sculptress clutches a stone male torso towards her in an insinuation of a romantic gesture, thereby blurring the boundaries between art and reality within the actual painting. Such intrigue is characteristic of Holland, and is one of the reasons why his work continues to flourish. Tasha Prest-Smith
Christmas with the Rat Pack: Frank. Sammy and Dean St David’s Hall 30 November 7.30pm Festive performance of the Rat Pack Live in a seasonal twist to the hit West End show. Celebrate the season with renditions of classic Christmas tunes, including Baby It’s Cold Outside, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Let It Snow and White Christmas. For those who start makng a Christmas wish list and baking yuletide logs in midOctober.
JAZZ EVENING
Andrew Fawcett’s ‘Kind of Blue’ The Gate 24 November 7.30pm for 8pm ‘Kind of Blue’ plays accessible jazz in the modern/mainstream idiom, with a diverse and interesting lineup, including some easy-listening standards, some more modern jazz standards and some originals which are recognisable by all. If you are interested in jazz, fanatical about jazz, or even not that sure about jazz, give this evening a go.
ART EXHIBITION
The Landscape Painters Martin Tinney Gallery 24 November-22 December This exhibition features the work of three artists: Patricia Aithie, Sarah Carvell and Sarah Thwaites. All three take the landscape, whether rural or urban, as their basic subject matter, but produce work in very different styles.
MUSICAL
The Producers Wales Millennium Centre 27 November-8 December 7.30pm; Thurs and Sat 2.30pm Based on the film, this is Mel Brooks’ hilarious new musical. The Producers is the tale of down-onhis-luck theatrical producer Max Bialystock and his hapless accountant, Leo Bloom, who hatch the ultimate theatrical scam - to raise more money than needed to produce a sure-fire Broadway disaster: ‘Springtime for Hitler - the musical’.
arts@gairrhydd.com / 35
cult classics
My ‘Cult Classics’
Cult Film: The Wild Bunch
Cult Book: 1984
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G
f someone mentions Westerns to you, chances are your first thoughts are of John Wayne or Clint Eastwood. As it is, there was a far more important figure working behind the scenes, revolutionising the genre and generally being a badass. Sam Peckinpah was responsible not just for changing the western to a gritty, bloodstained grimace, but also had a huge influence on the depiction of violence onscreen. The Wild Bunch is his fucked-up Casablanca, a fable of bank robberies, gun fights and murder culminating in one of the most shocking and blood-soaked massacres seen on film (supposedly largely improvised on the day of filming). 90,000 blanks were fired during filming; makes that Rambo fella look like a girl scout.
Cult Band: Slade
I
really wanted to do The Who for this section, but then I thought that maybe they were just too popular to be considered ‘cult’. Instead I thought I’d go for Slade, to try and generate some enthusiasm for an often overlooked band. The band already had five chart toppers before their Christmas number one, which they will forever be associated with! Beginning as skinheads in the late 60s, Slade evolved their look and sound for the next 25 years. Not nearly appreciated enough for their versatility, the band are now mostly remembered for singer Noddy Holder’s sideburns and for their odd fashion. Just give ‘Slayed?’, their third album, a spin. It’ll rock your cock off.
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eorge Orwell wrote some pretty dark stuff. Who can forget that poor horsey being taken off to the glue factory in Animal Farm? Bollocks. If you want a soul crushing, utterly depressing read, then go for 1984. In short, Winston Smith lives in a future dystopia. He rebels against it and fails, miserably. Written in 1948, the book contained faintly prophetic elements: a modern society in which we’re constantly under surveillance, a reliance on propaganda and British dependence on America (sound familiar?). It also gave us a lot of new words and phrases which instantly dropped into everyday use and in some cases inspired TV shows: Room 101 (good) and Big Brother (bad). But we can’t hold that against Orwell. Perhaps the worst fact is that the ‘bad guy’, O’Brien, the man who ends up torturing Winston, is just so ... likeable. Even Winston likes him. It’s a twisted mind that thinks up that little gem.
Cult TV Series: Blake’s 7
T
alking of future dystopias, Blake’s 7 is to Doctor Who what My Chemical Romance is to The Beach Boys: slightly less memorable, much less popular and bloody depressing. A science fiction thriller come soap opera, it charted the lives (and various deaths) of a group of space age rebels (like Star Wars) over its four series run. Nihilistic, bleak, and with every single episode tainted by a feeling of despair and impending death, Blake’s 7 was perfect teatime viewing. As the motley group continued
ILLUSTRATION: Richard Jones
Richard Jones tells us the five cult classics he considers to be worthy of this title and why they are miles above the rest ...
their hopeless struggle against the relentless Federation (like the Empire), viewers were treated to quite simply the wobbliest sets ever created, the least convincing special effects captured on film and fashion which, if it really does exist in the future, I’m sure as hell keeping clear of. But don’t be fooled: as underneath the surface is a brilliantly plotted, superbly written and actually very well acted piece of television genius.
Cult Star: Peter Sellers
T
he archetypal unhappy comedian, Peter Sellers was not only one of the greatest stars of his era, but became an icon both in Britain and the US. A genius onscreen and an utter bastard off it, Sellers is remembered for his extraordinary talent with accents and mimicry, his ability with physical comedy and his difficult private life. Married four times and with countless affairs to his name, Sellers has been the subject of some scandal in recent biographies. However, judged solely on his film legacy, Sellers was a powerful and talented performer with an uncanny ability to make people laugh until their trousers are sodden (well, it happens to me). Best remembered for his superb performance as Inspector Clouseau in the Pink Panther films, Sellers also worked for Stanley Kubrick and the Boulting Brothers, and made some of the best comedies of the 20th Century. He also made some shite, but then, honestly, who hasn’t?
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Are s e m a g Video Ar t ? T
here’s no denying that games are still seen by many as the immature cousin of the other cultural industries. Films, television, music and literature can be recognised as either art or entertainment - and occasionally both. Games are almost exclusively categorised as entertainment. But is that fair? Why is one cultural movement given more artistic credence than another? To draw parallels between the most obvious, films and games, both share the common theme of exposition of a story and both contain characterisation and artistic direction. In films, some are recognised as pure entertainment – others as art, despite sharing many themes. So what is it that makes some films art and others not? And why is it that games don’t have this quality? The inevitable conclusion is that it comes down to the eternal and unanswerable question – what is art? Humans have struggled for centuries with the concept of art and how it should be defined. Initially, it was a skill. Encyclopedia Britannica still defines it as ‘The use of skill and imagination in the creation of
aesthetic objects, environments, or experiences that can be shared with others’. By this definition, games have certainly had a raw deal. The innovation and imagination shown in some computer games far outstrips the majority of the movie industry (another Ben Stiller rom-com, anyone?), there is a high degree of skill involved in creating objects, environments and experiences for every game, and every game is shared with others. They fulfil every criteria for this definition and so, if you agree with it, you must agree that computer games are a form of art. However, not everyone would agree with this definition. Many feel art to be a more subtle and emotional experience than the simple creation of aesthetically pleasing objects could be. Leo Tolstoy wrote an essay in 1896 entitled ‘What is art?’ In it, he put forth the following definition. “To evoke in oneself a feeling one has once experienced, and having evoked it in oneself, then, by means of movements, lines, colors, sounds, or forms expressed in words, so to transmit that feeling that others may experience the same feeling - this is
the activity of art.” So by this concept, art should produce empathy. An emotional response that is intended by the creator. It is easy to see how books, films and especially music fit into this definition. It does become a little harder to see how the majority of games fit in, but without doubt there are games that typify this definition. The best games are renowned for their ability to provoke emotional response, and they do this not through retelling an experience, but for you to actually go through that experience. It’s actually hard to see how that can be matched by other forms of art! Without doubt there are a lot of games that do not try to provoke an emotional response and are merely intended as entertainment. But there are some that go further, and these games have been overlooked by the artistic establishment simply due to the fact that they are also games. This is an outdated view, and it needs to be debunked. Games are equally deserv ing of artistic recognition as any other form of art, and it’s time they were treated as such. Richard Wood
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digital
Digital Love... Super Mario
Nintendo Wii
M
ario has always been a byword for class, a guarantee of quality and Galaxy typifies this point spectacularly. What I have found through playing this game is that there can be a perfect fusion of control, speed and design, the fluidity with which one spectacular set piece blends into another as Mario zooms across the separate planetoids, each a mini-masterpiece is unbelievable. Each level of this game is completely unique, each planetoid an experience that you will not have had before. One that you’ll not have again, even when you replay this game which you invariably will, very often, you won’t be able to replicate the pleasure you experienced when you first span into a fat Goomba or burst off into space from the new ‘Jump Stars’, it’s the polar opposite of killing a man. And don’t ask why because just like ‘Nam; if you weren’t in Mario Galaxy you’ll never understand. None of what matters has changed in Galaxy. As soon as you start the game you can tell quality runs through it and that people have been working hard, for a title on a console that utilises Gamecube technology. This game looks beautiful, even when compared to true nextgen titles it looks good, the frame rate never drops below 60fps and throughout the entire game, which I have completed twice (shut in) I have only seen two instances of clipping, other than that the graphics are
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perfect. The music is exceptional; as you first blast off into space the score that builds behind you has a recognisable quality of John William’s movie scores, all theatrical and self important. The auto camera only helps build this new sweeping grandeur that Mario’s Voyage across the stars (have I mentioned that he’s in space yet, no? well he is) seems to have taken on. Some Mario 64 puritans went mental when they heard about the fully automated camera in Galaxy but it really works, well there’s nothing for it to get caught on in space anyway and when you’re sweeping from level to level it tracks behind you perfectly, adjusting for any oncoming hazard and changing direction when you do. On to level design, Christ on a bike in the Tour De France these levels are designed well. Each level or Galaxy consists of planetoids that all have differing themes and objectives, there’s a Space Junk yard for example where you must guide Mario through the floating debris, bounding from one planetoid to the other, temporarily caught in their gravity. Constantly changing your orientation, running round planets from top to bottom, jumping half way over their surface or out into space only to be brought crashing down by the planet’s gravitational pull. There’s a lot of satisfaction to be had when you can enter a room and know you’ll be running across the ceiling in minutes. There are themed levels with powerups to match, on a bee
ridden planetoid Mario can pick up a Bee coloured mushroom with predictable results. Mario becomes a bee and can fly for a limited time and stick to flowers and honeycombs, then in a somewhat unpredictable turn Mario has to crawl all over the queen’s body to discover the location of a hidden star, hmmmmm. The star of the show is irrefutably gravity and its utilisation is what makes the Mario series so great. When Super Mario 64 came along people spent years trying to emulate its greatness, no one succeeded and people still try. A lot of games get ratings of 5/5 and they are all arguably worth their rating but some games excel in their field to an extent that 5/5 just doesn’t do them justice Super Mario Galaxy is one of those games, it’s so revolutionarily good that the bar must now be moved up and unfortunately for everyone else the bars got to be moved up pretty dog gone high. Dom Mukwamba-Sendall
digital
Rail Simulator
Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare
EA
Activision PS3 Xbox360
PC
S
o what can be said about this much anticipated title? I mean fans of the previous games will certainly be drooling at the beautiful sight of Call of Duty 4. If you’re lucky to own an HD TV, this is definitely going to be a treat for you. The visuals are pretty stunning and no matter what is going on onscreen you won’t see that frame-rate dip, even in the midst of a chaotic pandemonium of machine gun fire and grenades. It makes absolutely no difference. It looks pretty and runs basically like a rocket-propelled mini, but what about the gameplay? Well the principle is pretty much like any other first person/war shooter. The first task though, consists of basic training at an SAS base. You run a course consisting of target practice and flash bang usage against a timer. At the end, if you fancy it you can rerun the course to set a record, but to be fair you’ll want to get going with the first mission as soon as that fire button is depressed. The missions are split between the SAS and American Marines, both offering contrasting missions. With the SAS you’ll be finding yourself executing stealthy operations infiltrating villages, rescuing loyal informants or capturing enemy leaders. This is not to say you don’t get a solid dose of brutal warfare. You will find yourself standing ground in a surrounded village tavern or fighting off enemies as you retreat to a barn and wait for that much needed air-strike. Playing as the American marines
R will put you in the midst of frantic adrenaline rushed fire fights and to be honest, when you’re set down for your first mission you’ll find yourself ducking for cover behind anything you can see. Cars, crates, half blown up buildings, anything for that false sense of security. What will strike you once your set down to the battlefield is how phenomenal the weapons are in this game. When aimed at you, you definitely know to keep out of sight. Security though comes from knowing you got a big fat automatic rifle in your sweaty mitts. When you pull that trigger, no matter your preference of weapon; firing it will be nothing more than the very definition of satisfaction. Playing this game I really was blown away by the attention to detail, this is a game that shows other developers just how to make an utterly immersive shooter. It won’t feel like you’re in your living room. You’ll be feeling your knees sinking into the mud as you hide behind a crate clenching a M60 Carbine, bullets flying past your head. There is little to fault with this game, well if wanting more is considered a fault? The single player campaign is fantastic and only lacks the much-loved co-op. As for multiplayer, well it’s just the cherry on top. The various game modes will keep you busy long after you finish that single player campaign. Saying that, you’ll just keep going back for more. Liam Charalambous
ail Simulator is both at the bleeding-edge of over engineering and surprisingly disappointing at the same time. (Ok, I’m lying; it’s not surprisingly disappointing) Really, I honestly tried to be fair and impartial. I wrote 616 fair and impartial words last week about how bad it was. Since then, I’ve not actually touched the game - I can’t face it - the long wait for it to start up, the even longer wait for a game to actually load then picking a train and making it go. Which is either a fiendishly complicated task, impossible to achieve in a controlled manner; or insultingly simple with one key for ‘speed up’, another for ‘slow down’ and a third for ‘change direction’. What do you do with this train once you get it going? Well, you either use the free-roaming mode, wherein you pootle up and down the track until you die of boredom; or you do a mission, where you go along the track until you reach the first set of points which aren’t in your favour, then you derail and the game is over. All of which leaves me asking “Why?” Why should I buy this? £35 RRP, for eight trains and 360 miles of track. Why should I play this? Now, I could understand if EA wanted to use it for a technology demonstration - it’s utterly pointless as a game but would make a good demonstration for graphics and physics engines - but why anyone would play it for their own entertainment is completely beyond me. Surely anyone so obsessed with trains will be outdoors, on the footplate of a real train, breathing in some pretty noxious stuff and probably wearing an anorak. Thomas Davey
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digital
Assassin’s Creed Ubisoft Xbox (Tested) PS3 & PC
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ou play as Altair, an assassin in the time of the third crusade with a mysterious past, as Altair you have the freedom to explore huge cities and countryside whilst gathering information on your 9 major hits. The main game play involves investigating your targets by exploring, eavesdropping and even picking pockets for clues on their whereabouts. When you have enough information on your target you can then move to the assassination stage. In this you must use “social stealth” to blend in with the crowd using killer’s intuition to hone in on the target and finally sink a blade through their neck! There are many actions that Altair can
The Orange Box PS3 (Tested), PC & Xbox
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he Orange Box is a bargain. Buy it. For £45 or less you get one of the greatest games ever released, two of its equally brilliant expansions, a solid and fun multiplayer element, and as a bonus, possibly the most enjoyable four hours of gaming you will ever have. Half-Life 2 is rightly acclaimed as one of the best games ever – it currently sits at number 2 on Gamerankings.com with good reason. It is almost unequalled in atmosphere, tension and storytelling. Its expansions are also fantastic. The multiplayer element, Team Fortress 2, is a good addition. If the box only included these it would still be easily worth your money. But what makes it an absolutely, utterly essential purchase is Portal. Initially it seems to be a puzzle game, and fundamentally, it is. However, it is also one of the best-written, funniest, enjoyable games I have ever played. The main aim of Portal is to use your experimental weapon to shoot
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perform, so many in fact that it would probably take a controller that is able to read gamers minds just to make him jump, but Ubisoft have come up with the ingenious idea of “puppet strings” where your avatars head is controlled by the the (Y) button his weapon hand (X), free hand (B) and legs (A). The right trigger enables you to perform more active commands which will attract more attention from guards like running and tackling citizens. The puppet like controls of the character make scaling buildings whilst running from a horde of guards easier then it sounds. Assassins Creed has the best bits from games like Prince of Persia, Gun, Crackdown and Hitman and offers a huge, freely explored game world consisting of three highly populated, time-team accurate cities: Damascus, Acre and Jerusalem, as well as the Assassin-controlled fortress village of Masyaf. All of these are connected by “The Kingdom”, a massive wilderness filled with secret flags and templars
that can be explored on horseback. The entire game is rendered to perfection and character graphics are amazing. There are side missions that can be completed in the run up to the main assassination, view points must be found to gain a better intelligence of the city and its layout. Saving citizens is always fun to sharpen Altair’s combat skills and make allies that are very helpful and if you have enough time the seemingly endless flag hunt may have its rewards although this was to much for me to complete. Its not going to be a one off game either so the story will be continued and develop even more, plus there’s a bizarre twist in the game that’s pretty intriguing but I wont spoil anything for you. Over all with its riveting story, beautiful visuals and surprisingly lifelike world, Assassin’s Creed is an incredibly deep and enjoyable game that will keep you addicted from the moment you lay eyes on it. Bhanu Singh
dimensional doorways into floors, ceilings and walls. There’s a chasm in the floor? Put one portal in the wall on your side of the drop, then one in the opposite wall, and walk into the nearest one. Hey presto, you’ve crossed a ravine! Some of these puzzles become quite challenging but they are never overwhelming, and they are always fun to solve. But what makes Portal such a fantastic game is the plot. Initially there does not appear to be one. But the computerised voice that comments on your progress through the puzzles, innocuous to begin with, starts to make ever funnier, stranger statements, and you begin to wonder just what’s going on. And just about then, Portal takes on an entirely new lease of life and becomes so, so much more than just a puzzle game! The way this plot is revealed is magnificent. It is perfectly paced, endlessly enjoyable, laugh-out-loud hilarious, and it is genuinely unpredictable and surprising. I have never encountered better characterisation or plot development in gaming. Portal is not very long, but for its short
duration it provides one of the most perfect gaming experiences that can ever be had. It is innovative to the point of genius, and it is full to the brim of humour and charm, from the moment you start right up to the last second of the credits. It’s so unexpectedly good that it takes my vote as Game Of The Box. Half-Life 2 is more visually impressive, more epic and more cinematic, and it really is one of the best games you will ever play, but for me, Portal just shades it on sheer charm. If you have any sense of humour at all, you will not fail to love it. If you don’t, you should rip out your heart, tear it to pieces, and throw every piece into a fire. You won’t miss it. Richard Wood
music
IN MUSIC THIS WEEK
swnlivereviews
albums:efterklang
live:ryanadams
musiceditorial
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all me paranoid but I often worry that I am in fact pretentious and a complete music snob. I can see why people might think that I am. I mean, I do have a tendency to listen to Japanese post-rock bands that 99% of the British public have never heard of and there is nothing in the world I hate more than those moments at the end of big club nights when the DJ plays something by Oasis or Queen and everyone sings a long. But in all honesty I’m not, I’m a complete Indie nerd and proud of it. i feel it’s time to set the record straight on behalf of everyone out
there like myself (and there’s a lot of us out there.) Don’t get me wrong, I love pop music, when it’s done right there’s nothing better in the world. Yet seeing a big band in the CIA will always feel stale in comparison to seeing a great band in a small venue. Take a recent Jeffrey Lewis gig I went to at Welsh club where I find that the support act is a performance poet or the Les Savy Fav show in London where I have my portrait drawn by the lead singer before the gig. You just don’t get lovely suprises like this outside of the alternative music circuit. The pleasure in discovering an
amazing new band that few people have heard of doesn’t lie in showing off your knowledge to your friends, it’s the sheer excitment of listening to great music that you never knew existed. If you find me in the pub name dropping obscure bands it’s because I genuinly want you to listen to them. And to be fair there are as many shit alternative bands out there as there are pop acts. But for those willing to search for it out there is some amazing music in the world that goes right under the Radio 1 radar. ST
loveletters
Sarah George declares his undying love for West-end Musicals
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ats, Les Miserables, Chicago, Joseph; these are but a few of the many musicals that have graced London’s west end and I love each and every one of them in their entirety. From the glitzy backing dancers showcasing their choreographic prowess to the classic and unforgettable music, setting each performance apart from the
rest, West End musicals have the enchantment and captivation that only a minority of shows today can achieve. Andrew Lloyd Webber (the king of the West End) is entirely successful in his portrayal of the bewitching love story that is Phantom of the Opera; in my opinion, the epitome of the perfect musical. The songs are altogether
AMAZING!! Music of the Night is a dreamy and uplifting piece with a grand orchestra providing the backing, whilst the title track Phantom of the Opera thunders along to an organ with the two main characters taking lead vocals. The performance is spectacular to say the least, leaving audiences breathless with excitement and exhilaration; one of my personal faves!
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music
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FRIDAY
t’s rather unfortunate that tonight The Point is disappointingly empty; probably less than 100 people in the 600 capacity venue. The reason this is so tragic is because, in my opinion at least, Youthmovies are one of the most exciting new acts that this country has to offer. Yet neither this or the fact that tonight is the final night of an epic tour for the math-punk quintet does any-
Sons and Daughters
Barfly
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ith both The Cribs and Duke Spirit playing on the same night, this Domino Records gig was left rather empty. Undaunted by the lack of a crowd Eugene McGuinness, a young man from Liverpool plays a great set. The hotly tipped singer/songwriter played some great upbeat indie pop tracks and new Franz Ferdinand and Royal We side-act Correcto played a short and awkward set as one of their first ever live dates. Sons & Daughters’ sound is of blackest Americana mixed with broadest Scots, spinning dark tales of broken bones and tough love. The last time I saw them play they supported Morrissey and they held back in their support slot scared by obsessive Moz fans. Luckily this time magnificent sounds start emanating from the stage as the Glasgow foursome tear into a set comprising of songs taken mainly from forthcoming third album This Gift. The new material
thing to dampen their energy. With complex guitar lines and epic trumpets they do nothing but prove that those who did make it down made the complete right decision. Headliners I Was A Cub Scout are less impressive however. Don’t get me wrong they have some very catchy and enjoyable songs and for a two piece they put on a very impressive live performance. But while they would make a great support band at any gig, as yet they’re not quite headline material, particularly not above an act as exciting as Youthmovies. Si Truss
is far poppier than any of Sons And Daughters’ previous works but the band also performed frenzied renditions of old favourites Dance Me In and Johnny Cash while singer Adele Bethel creepily stalks the stage. This showcase shows us why Domino is one of the most respected labels on the UK scene. Gemma Southgate
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Cool House presents Annie Mac/Cassius Great Hall
he eagerly anticipated Coolhouse featuring Radio 1 DJ Annie Mac, Cassius, Stuart Geddes and Simon Baker certainly lived up to expectations. Annie Mac delivered an amazing set with mixes featuring Justice’s DA-N-C-E and even cheesy tune Please Mr Postman cropped up at some point. However it seemed most people turned up just to see Annie, and when French act Cassius followed later in the night there were significantly
S U N DAY
Youthmovies/I Was a Cub Scout The Point
SATURDAY
SATURDAY
LIVE SWN LIVE SWN LIVE SWN
Black Lips
Clwb Ifor Bach
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iven the almost mythical aura of chaos and disorder which surrounds the festivals closing act, it seems only fitting that Black Lips turn up leaving their second guitarist stranded at a Portuguese airport. As a result of this the band are perhaps not the dramatic climax which the Swn festival deserved to see, but rather, just some damn fine rock n’ roll music. The set list doesn’t seem to suffer from losing a member, but their on-stage enthusiasm is visibly drained. I suppose it’s an anti climax, but not a complete disaster as Cardiff winds down from a great weekend. Kyle Ellison
less people thumping their feet. This may also be due to the fact that Cassius seemed to think that interrupting a good beat by making the track jump was an inspired concept. Instead it just sounded like he was having problems with the decks and needed a visit from the technicians. Although an amazing time seemed to be had by all, the Great Hall as a venue just seems to suck all the excitement out; after all who wants to spend a night out in the same place that they sit their exams? Amelia Sgroi
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07/11/07
LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE
Delays Barfly
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and the Donna Summer-esque Valentine. Delays may never be one of those bands who provoke mass critical adoration but, rather like Coldplay, they do what they do very well indeed. Given the strength of the new material that they previewed tonight, the forthcoming album should see their popularity grow. I fell in love with Delays, as they proved that none of their old seaside glamour had faded. Gemma Southgate
17/11/07
didn’t expect to like the Delays, but with this being their first live show in 18 months, they had a lot to prove to the audience at a soldout Barfly, and that’s exactly what they did. The Delays twist and thicken the cliché of ‘guitar pop’ into the finest
of high art, sounding like a mixture of the Manics and the Las. Greg has the most unusual voice in indie-pop: part throaty rasp, part falsetto, sometimes morphing the two together in such a weird way that I’m not sure if he’s entirely human. The setlist was pretty evenly split between Faded Seaside Glamour, You See Colours and the new E.P. although the band’s loyal audience rewarded the newer material with a mighty roar. The highlights of the set were the new track Love made Visible
18/11/07
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Calvin Harris Great Hall
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idway through the gig, some lout decides to throw stuff on stage and shout how shit he thinks Calvin Harris is. He responds by asking for ‘constructive criticism only.’ So here’s my constructive criticism. It was really disappointing that Acceptable in the 80s was the third track performed. Since that’s his biggest hit, I really expected that to be much later. It’s a general rule, that you play your biggest hit last, forcing everyone to stick it out. Since it was so early on, it seemed like the gig was over. The gig seemed to just fall apart,
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with Merrymaking at My Place and Girls being rushed through, before the gig came to an abrupt end. Once Harris announced the last song, it was time to go, with a forgettable album track closing the gig. I assumed there would be no encore and there wasn’t, technically. The encore was provided by support act The Mitchell Brothers,who had earlier sang about trainers being soulmates while everyone ‘historically’ waved their left shoe. Calvin Harris’ live performance gave the impression that, although a lively and enthusiastic performer, there just isn’t enough material for him to be anything more than an 80s-theme gimmick, as the leg-warmers and glowsticks were everywhere in Solus on Sunday night. Aisling Tempany
Biffy Clyro Great Hall
f there had been a dying sloth lying in a corner, it would have been jigging around like Angus Young by the end of the night. In fact, it would have probably made it to standing before they even started, as the sparking crowd prepared to ignite. Biffy Clyro have created an almost religious following, and for good reason. Shit me, they know how to play a good gig. It has taken far too long for the trio to reach stardom, but they seem to be making up for it now. Unfortunately, and inevitably, it brings with it a multitude of supporters destined to ignore the dynamic brilliance of their early material. Luckily, Biffy Clyro aren’t the neanderthals that Simon Neil makes them look, and their clever blend of all four albums satisfies the fans. It’s the brutal intensity that sets this band apart, with their characteristically erratic fusion of rhythms amplified tenfold in a live show. Their driving momentum sets the crowd throbbing, and provides the jaw-dropping performance that has come to be expected from these Scots. In other words, if you want to feel like a kid at Christmas; don’t do drugs, do Biffy. Lizz Rice
music
11 / 11 / 07
LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE LIVE Ryan Adams Millennium Centre
18/11/07
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BRMC Anson Rooms
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15/11/07
lack Rebel Motorcycle Club have had a difficult few years so after losing track with the band lately and finding no time for my hoped pre-gig reconnaissance, I made my way to Bristol’s Anson Rooms intrigued to see how the band was fairing these days. And I needn’t have doubted them, the trio left nothing to be desired. Back to their original line up, the Motorcycle Club are still going strong and as their leather jackets and shiny slicked back hair are caught in silhouette against the lights you can’t help but admire this simple yet (highly) effective three-piece. Garage
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Me One The Point
till relatively new to Cardiff I can be excused for not having heard of veteran of Cardiff hiphop artist Me One, yet sometimes the best gigs are the ones you go to with no expectations. Having been compared with Plan B
rock has taken a back seat of late but there is something classically compelling about their bluesy-rock style. Drawn through the set by a superb mix of heavier sounds from their earlier albums and a dip into the more folksy side of third album Howl, even the more samey songs had a drive of their own. The new material from Baby 81 got right back down to their roots without disappointment and in keeping with the bands surprising individuality. With some excellent changes to album versions and an inspired cover of Leonard Cohen’s Chelsea Hotel, they have proved their staying power. A beautiful racket, BRMC brings a reminder of what once was, and still is, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of rock and roll. Jenny Peach because he has a guitar (really Plan B should be compared to him) that’s the only similarity I can see. Me One is older, wiser, less angry and more fun. His music is an interesting mix of a bit of hip hop with a lot of reggae and funky, acoustic sounds mixed with thoughtful lyrics. A lot of guests join in tonight including Me One’s nervous looking guitarist son. The band, Soup, are a diverse mix producing reggae type sounds with hip hop guts and edge.
t’s fair to say that Ryan Adams does not enjoy the best of reputations as a live performer. Inordinately long breaks between songs, bouts of tiresome self pitying chatter, deliberate attempts to wind the audience up when they start to get restless. All of these have been known to sabotage shows that any other performer would kill to put on. Fortunately, Adams (who interestingly made a point of introduced himself as the singer of The Cardinals) was on sparkling form tonight, expertly delivering great song after great song from his enviable back catalogue. His recent sabbatical from playing the guitar seems to have done wonders for his voice and, though the first hour was sprinkled with the earlier mentioned frustrations, he seemed more content to please his audience. Classics like ‘Cold Roses’ and ‘Hollywood Boulevard’ sat comfortably alongside newer songs such as Alice in Chain’s ‘Down in a Hole’ and a spine chillingly good version of the heartbreaking ‘Dear John’. Beautiful vocal harmonies, balls out rock songs, haunting ballads all performed faultlessly for three hours; this was as near perfection as you could get. Sim Eckstein
Throw in the beatboxer having a battle with DJ Jaffa and an appearance from a great gospel singer and you have tonight’s show. Chat between songs is both funny and provocative; you can tell Me One has been around the live music block a few times. Me One has just moved back to Cardiff after 19 years away so now’s your chance to experience the music live. Amy Hall
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Angels and Airwaves
Dream Days At The Hotel Existence Universal
I-Empire Geffen
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Blink 182 and shit
he cinematic and euphoric quality of We Don’t Need To Whisper is still very much present; note the pretentious Star Wars-esque artwork. While perhaps not remarkably innovative, this is not necessarily a bad thing. The formula remains essentially the same on highlight tracks; throw in some rousing drumbeats, guitar riffs that tingle before launching into epic riffs and achingly romantic lyrics and you’re set. However, I-Empire is nevertheless a welcome change of pace, with less of the inflated build-ups lacking any real direction that gave Angels and Airwaves’ debut a forgettable anonymity. Variety can be seen in the combination of well-rounded poppunk numbers that are surprisingly likeable with crafted ballads bringing out an atmospheric element that was missing first time round. It’s clear that the excessive overproduction has been stripped down and the band undoubtedly has a tighter grip on dynamics in this sophomore offering. If you’re not a fan of Tom DeLonge post-Blink 182, then this album probably won’t do anything groundbreaking to change your mind. On the other hand, if you were a fan before, there is a vastly-improved sound here that cannot fail to impress 7/10 Amy Walker
Every Time I Die The Big Dirty Ferret Music
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Die and shit
ew York noise merchants Every Time I Die sound angry; It would seem that in a fit of rage they forgot to insert some proper melody into their music. Don’t get me wrong, it’s there now and then (sort of), but it’s surrounded by a mush of heavy, slightly off-colour guitar licks and throat-man-
music
Powderfinger
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Powder and shit
n Australian rock band that simultaneously stimulates and bores. Powderfinger’s sixth album, Dream Days At The Hotel Existence, is an album that shows fine musicianship. Vocalist Bernard Fanning’s vocals are great, giving the album an edgy atmosphere. Darren Middleton and Ian Haug’s guitar playing is articulate. Black Tears demonstrates this well. The only down side is that Jon Coghill’s drumming is a bit simple. Production is also great. Producer Rob Schnapf (of Vines and Beck production fame) gives the album a certain flair. Opener Head Up In The Clouds just sounds amazingly produced. Lost And Running, the album’s first single, is another great song and a great choice for a single. However, the album does have dull and mediocre points. Some songs are dreary and depressing, such as Drifting Further Away. The album also has a number of tracks that blend into each other in a very dull way that lacks fibre. That being said, this is a fairly standard rock album that has standout points but is certainly not an outstanding album. On the whole it is fairly average. 6/10 Roddy Waldron
gling shouting that turn the whole of The Big Dirty into a sort of metallic sludge. Sure, they’re good at what they do, but what they do is a bit rubbish. No doubt the album will appeal to fans of the band and hardcore in general, but they’re unlikely to win over many other people with this release. That being said, INRIhab may be a track worth listening to, but overall The Big Dirty is much like shooting yourself in the foot: messy, painful and ultimately a bit silly. 3/10 Andy Swidenbank
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Every Time I Die sound angry; it seems that in a fit of rage they forgot to insert some proper melody
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L I S T I N G S 26/11 - 09/12 MONDAY 26th NOVEMBER Foals @ Clwb Human League @ Bristol Academy
SUNDAY 2nd DECEMBER McFly @ CIA Klaxons @ Union
TUESDAY 27th NOVEMBER
THURSDAY 6th DECEMBER
Kanye West @ CIA Hellogoodbye @ Union Operator Please @ Bristol Academy
Picture Books In Winter + Lights To Lead Us + Matthew Hitt @ Dempseys
WEDNESDAY 28th NOVEMBER Amy Winehouse & Remi Nicole @ CIA THURSDAY 29th NOVEMBER Klaxons DJs + Simian Mobile Disco + Friendly Fires @ Bristol Clockwork
FRIDAY 7th DECEMBER Minus The Bear + I Was A Cub Scout @ Clwb The Courteneers @ Barfly Elle Milano @ Bristol Croft SATURDAY 8th DECEMBER Okkervil River @ Barfly
GIG PICK MINUS THE BEAR Clwb Ifor Bach icated With a notably sophist and 6 new album to promote, ica-influenced , this prog-rock electron years since their first EP pressive live im re ge at Clwb. Even mo 5-piece take to the sta t. en em ost wet with excit than on record, we’re alm HIM Bleed Well Sire
After 15 years, it’s still impossible to take HIM seriously. The supposedly gothic and sinister appearance seems out of place when you consider the embarrassingly middle-of-the-road music that has seen no signs of maturing or developing throughout the band’s career. 2/10 TV
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THE DAMN SHAMES Fear of Assault Cool Delta
The Damn Shames cite ‘Children’ as their genre on MySpace, and it’s no wonder - ‘Fear Of Assault’ bops like an infant on E-numbers, a feedback-ridden, banzai slice of carefully crafted chaos over a bass-line only an arms-folded fun fascist couldn’t go crazy to. Expect to hear it everywhere soon, then. 8/10 PT
S I N G L E S WILD BEASTS Assembly Domino
Two things are always going to annoy me. One is singing about the dull comings and goings of ordinary life, and the other is Justin Hawkins. Ok, sure, this isn’t the wailer himself, but people who pretend to be him piss me off too. This, magically, has both. 2/10 SB
UNDERCUT Hot In That Distiller
And the award for most dreadful chorus goes to...Undercut. Making The Bloodhound Gang seem sophisticated is a difficult task, but this truly has to be heard to be believed. I’d like say the chorus undoes the good work of the verses, but doing so would give the verses too much credit. 1/10 TV
FOALS Balloons Transgressive
Balloons may be less frantic and fierce than what we are used to from these boys, yet it displays a mellower, self-assured maturity in a sound that is undeniably reminiscent of the mesmerising vocals and sporadic riffs that made Minus The Bear so popular. In true Foals fashion, chant-worthy lyrics and inventive, hypnotising guitar lines ensure this offering will undoubtedly be filling floors at indie club nights in no time. 9/10 AW
m l i F
film
THE BUZZ... The latest news, rumours and conjecture
TALES FROM THE
BACK ROW
What’s that? A weekend in London? Together? One Hotel room? London PART 2 HOW WAS IT FOR WILL? The actual film screening last week didn’t quite play out as I had hoped. A room full of snooty press perverts trying to spy on me and Sim ‘getting it on’ killed the mood somewhat. Dirty London bastards, ruining our special time. Just as I was ‘adjusting myself’ within the popcorn box I caught Mark Kermode’s eye and became, how do you say it ... deflated. The lunch provided courtesy of Fox Searchlight wasn’t the candle-lit dinner i’d hoped for either; on the train back to Cardiff I was too upset to speak, so i just retired to the carriage bathroom...
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They’re breakdance fighting...it’s that damn Hansel, he’s so hot right now
Mugatu has his say in this week’s Top 5 Movie Barnets
DARE YOU, CHARLIE KAUFMAN, CROSS THOR? The writer’s strike is claiming more victims, with Nine, Shantaram and more recently Thor being delayed by those pesky wordsmiths. However, the latter film does sound quite exciting. I mean, another comic book movie is hardly an interesting prospect but I’ve always been vaguely into my Norse mythology. There’s something about a scantily clad man running round with a big hammer that makes me more aroused than Amber Duvall. It’s directed by Matthew Vaughn (Stardust, Layer Cake) and will be shooting in London. Hip Hip Hoorray. THIS SIDE OF TRUTH: News has reached film desk that Ricky Gervais is set to star in This Side of Truth, a movie in which he plays a man who learns how to lie in a world where the concept is unheard of. Now, this idea could perhaps be vaguely interesting (and ripe with comic potential) but we’re all a little worried that it will be another poor performance by Ricky Gervais. Of course he is wonderful in everything he writes, but when it comes to Hollywood productions he fares less well. Fingers crossed.
HOW WAS IT FOR SIM? I finally decided last week who Will reminds me of: The Childcatcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. He, like the dreaded ‘Catcher’ has a long trenchcoat, suspicious ethnic origins and, most importantly, is a sex pest. This all occured to me as he tried, rather persistently, to get me to grab a handful of his popcorn as we sat in the screening. For a brief moment I wondered whether he’d planned the old ‘cock in a box’ prank, but that would be a step too far, even for Will. No, those comments about how much he thought I’d enjoy salted popcorn were clearly innocent. Although ... I’m sure it was toffee butterkiss.
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LATEST RELEASES LATEST RELEASES LATEST RELEASES BEOWULF Dir: Robert Zemeckis Cast: Ray Winstone, Angelina Jolie, Anthony Hopkins Out Now, 113 mins
Synopsis: Inspired by the epic English poem, Zemickis’ film tells the story of Scandinavian hero Beowulf (Ray Winstone) who attempts to kill the monster Grendel (Crispin Glover) for the Danish King (Anthony Hopkins). This proves not to be his only encounter with monsterous beings however, with Grendel’s mother (Angela Jolie) seeking revenge and a giant dragon trying its hardest to enjoy a man-sized snack.
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never liked Seamus Heaney, so never read his poem, so I’ve no idea if this completely ruins the original medieval poem. But I doubt that the movie of Beowulf was ever supposed to seem like it should be called Shrek: The Danish Years. Because that’s what this really reminded me of. The plot more or less goes that Shrek, and his companion Asterix (ancient Denmark doesn’t have donkeys) sail to Denmark to destroy the evil monster Gollum and his mother Goldfinger (as played by Angelina Jolie, who clearly had a better agent than the unrecognisable Robin Wright Penn) who are plaguing Santa’s Mead Grotto. CGI is something I’ve never really liked in films. Mainly because, when everything is so obviously animated, there’s no real suspense, or sense of horror. The CGI makes Beowulf look very cartoony, and the sound effects make it worse, with a lot of squelching and a lot of urrrnngghh groans that remind me now of the zombies in Shaun of The Dead. The most terrifying thing in this film was the 3D letter ‘B’ in the credits that came towards me. Apparently in 400bc (or whatever the scary 3D date at the start said) the cockney Londoner existed and Beowulf (played by Ray Winstone) travelled to Denmark from there. His cockney Beowulf was an improvement on some of the random Scandinavian/German/Jamaican accents that were otherwise on offer. Overall I was disappointed by the absence of Puss in Boots. He was the best thing in Shrek. What a waste. Aisling Tempany
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AMERICAN GANGSTER Dir: Ridley Scott Cast: Denzel Washington, Russell Crowe, Josh Brolin Out Now, 113 mins
Synopsis: After the death of his former mentor-come-crime-lord, Frank Lucas takes up the his former employer’s grail and rises to power as New York City’s most successful drugs baron, doing this by importing produce direct from the growers in Asia, whilst all the time remaining a committed family man. Richie Roberts is the incorruptible police officer who heads up the recently formed narcotics division hunting down the aforementioned Lucas. Much gaiety ensues...
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hen making a gangster movie charting the rise and rise (and subsequent fall) of a mob boss, any director will inevitably be walking in the shadow of certain other films; both the way in which the narrative unfolds and the finishing point of each journey are inevitably going in one direction. In the case of American Gangster comparisons to the French Connec-
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tion and Goodfellas are inevitable and, to an extent necessary. For what better way is there to judge a genre movie such as this other than to compare it to the greats of its medium, the films to which it must ultimately aspire? Ridley Scott thankfully navigates this path beautifully and without any sickly homages or stolen scenes gives gentle nods to the films that have so obviously inspired this movie. The raw material for the film itself feels like a story thats sole purpose was to one day be adapted for the silver screen. Frank Lucas is a nothing-if-not ballsy figure, an African American who had the cohones to fly direct to Vietnam and buy heroin off the growers. (The head off which is played by a man who looks strangely like the puppet of Kim Jong-il in Team America World Police). The dichotomy of Lucas’ character is that whilst he is committing all manner sins and smuggling huge amounts of heroin into the USA, he is also a committed family man, who keeps those he loves close to him. In this respect the character, handled by a less experienced actor, could perhaps run the danger of being ‘more of the same’, however a fine performance from Denzel Washington manages to keep Lucas just the wrong side of right. Even when nestled in the bosom of his family
one always senses an undertone of menace, any minute he could slip from jovial into unrestrained anger, an emotion that Washington plays so well.
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One always senses an undertone of menace
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Counterbalancing Frank Lucas and representing just as major a part in the narrative is Richie Roberts, a cop who is so incorruptible and straight down the line that he has essentially been ostracised by all other members of the station. However, as one might predict he has a tumultuous family life and is in danger of losing his child. Here of course lies the core theme of the movie, that whilst Roberts is a man of the law, he has an infinitely less stable personal like than the so-called ‘American Gangster’, who has conversely a strong concept of family and honour. Although handled in typically fine stead by Russell Crowe, certain parts of this seem a bit bolted on. Admittedly it is important to the composition of the character (and indeed true to real life) that Roberts had this unstable personal life
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however certain moments involving his wife and child feel a bit forced and simply there to hammer into our mind how different-yet-the-same he is to Frank Lucas. However this is only a minor problem. Ridley Scott paints such a vibrant and wonderful picture of Harlem in the sixties through to the seventies, genuinely re-creating the world of Lucas and Roberts around the audience, that the film just drags you in and sweeps you away in what is a near perfectly crafted crime thriller. Scott purposely makes no moral statements about either character and in no way tries to force his opinion of the men upon you, he presents the events as they happened and lets, as they say, the reader write the text. Although bearing in mind that the real life Frank Lucas was on set the vast majority of the shoot it seems clear as to what the director himself feels about the situation. American Gangster doesn’t quite reach the highs of some of its predecessors, not for any lack of content or craft but simply because it will ultimately never be as original as the films by which it is so influenced. Other than that however it is a perfectly told tale, which clocking it at over two and a half hours, doesn’t drag even for a second. Will Hitchins
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LATEST RELEASES LATEST RELEASES LATEST RELEASES PLANET TERROR Dir: Robert Rodriguez Cast: Rose Mcgowan, Freddy Rodriguez, Josh Brolin Out Now: 105
mins
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LIONS FOR LAMBS
Synopsis: The second half of the illfated Grindhouse project, Planet Terror tells the story of a government experiment gone wrong and how a group of unfortunate souls, one of whom has a machine gun as a leg, must fight them off to survive.
Dir: Robert Redford Cast: Robert Redford, Meryl Streep, Tom Cruise
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opefully by now you would expect UK cinephiles and Tarantino disciples to stop moaning about our unfortunate – or not – lack of a Grindhouse feature. Tough, the power lays with the distributors and you should be glad for the high odds of getting the three hour long hammer – horror tribute on a geek-pleasing DVD box set. Death Proof has been and gone and was nothing more than side splitting, with a clear inclination to the two stars rating at a critic’s level. Planet Terror, on the other hand, will be lucky to be reviewed at the common press. Truth is, watching this film with a huge crowd at its debut screening in the UK at well past midnight in London was unbelievably fun. The audience expected nothing more than a gruesome, gently mocking type of homage to grindhouse films, and that’s what they got. Rodriguez’s attempt is not as pretentious or stylized as Tarantino’s, but merely the result of giving a director a decent budget and telling him to “go off and do a zombie film”… We also get slimy villains, perverted kidnappers, hot Mexican sisters and even a brain-eaten Fergie. It’s one for the true film fixated– it even got standup applause when Rose Mcgowan finally added a machine gun to her stump… Ana Moraes
Out Now, 88 mins
Synopsis: Having been inspired to do something meaningful with their lives by college Professor Dr. Malley (Redford), two students find themselves fighting for survival in Afghanistan. Simulteaneously, in Washington, presidential candidate Jasper Irving (Tom Cruise) reveals plans that could have devastating effects for troops to TV journalist Meryl Streep, whilst Dr. Malley tries to instill a sense of purpose in an apathetic student (Andrew Garfield). s one of the first war films to take an objective look at the current political situation, I had big hopes for Lions for Lambs. The film shows three different settings, a Senator (Cruise) and political journalist (Streep), American soldiers in Afghanistan, and a college Professor (Redford) and student, and with these attempts to create a debate regarding opinion of the war. The dramatic tension is built with the development of the individual stories, how they are connected, and ultimately the outcome of the new political strategy being carried out by the soldiers. The performances from Streep, Redford and Cruise are as expected, solid and compelling, with Cruise playing the charming smooth-tongued politician a little too easily. In highlighting the plight of our soldiers, the film is effective and cannot be criticised. However the argument is far from balanced and I left the film feeling I had just been fed some of the sugar-coated propaganda that the film criticises so openly, turning any good intentions into a hollow message that is little hard to swallow. Nicole Briggs
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DVD Releases
film THE VICAR OF DIBLEY: THE ULTIMATE COLLECTION
Starring: Dawn French James Fleet, Gary Waldhorn-
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icar of Dibley: The Ultimate Collection is a must have for any comedy fan, whether it’s the proto-feminism of the full-figured Geraldine Grainger, the dizzy-headed idiot-come-philosopher Alice, or the hilarious high jinx of Hugo “he’s got to be autistic” Horton. However the programme wasn’t all fun and games, one revelation of this groundbreaking show was that it raised awareness of the debilitating sickness that is chocolate addiction, an illness that so sadly claims thirty two lives a year in the UK alone. The highlight of this box set, which is surely destined for the cannon of great British comedies, to sit along
side My Hero and My Family (series 1-4), has to be the wedding of the century. What happens when you cross a girl with Asperger’s and a toff with generations of inbreeding? Teletubbys walking down the aisle, that’s what. However after all the
Films that should be made...
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don’t know about you, but I think more films should be made that deal with issues students can really relate to. None of this aspirational ‘coming of age’ rubbish, I’m talking about serious things students have to cope with every day. That’s why I want Arnie to ditch politics and come back to us for one last time, in our final hour of need. Picture it now: the year is 2035. Mankind is under constant threat of attack from an endless army of ruthless killing machines hell bent on our destruction. The only way to save our future is to send one of these machines back in time to write an essay that will ultimately prevent our total annihilation. All he has to do now is get off his arse and do it… Struggling through a near endless battle with tea breaks, re-organising his music collection and day-long marathons of the Jeremy Kyle show, our trusty saviour finally manages to put his distractions aside to write that all important
congregation have stumbled back from whence they came, and are collapsed on the sofa safely watching the Catherine Tate Children In Need special I’m left asking, is the Vicar of Dibley actually any good? Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes no. Will Hitchins
ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER IS ...
The Procrastinator
piece of work. Then, suddenly, in a desperate attempt to stop the essay from being written, the robots launch a full facebook offensive, bombarding our hero with a flood of friend requests, pointless group invitations and useless applications in the hope he will be lost in a
sea of timewasting forever. Will he be able to resist? Will the essay get written? Or will, as many people have prophesised, Facebook turn out to be the cause of the destruction of the entire human race? Only time will tell, and as the great man once said: ‘I’ll be back… probably… you know, like after I’ve had something to eat, and done some other stuff… Almost definitely within the next 2 or 3 hours.’ Alex Gwilliam
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film
Director...
Werner Herzog
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erner Herzog is one of the most innovative and original directors of his era, a product of the New German cinema movement that was also embodied by the likes of Fassbinder. His films and documentaries have been met with rapture and confusion, and he takes his camera to the corners of the Earth where union crews and Hollywood studios daren’t go. Also, crucially, he is renowned for pushing his actors to exhaustive physical and emotional limits, particularly in his collaborations with Klaus Kinski. Exemplifying a simple point-andshoot style that finds movement in the frame, Herzog’s bizarre and oftimprovised visuals were unusual for a time where American peers such as Scorsese failed to keep their cameras still. MY FAVOURITE: STROSZEK Stroszek is possibly the most emotionally wrought of Herzog’s work, an expose of the American heartland’s cruel underbelly, where immigration and hard toil do not lead to the escape or riches promised in the stories. Bruno S. was a vagrant street musician and the abandoned son of a prostitute when Werner Herzog, who cast him as the titular lead in The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, discovered him. Here he portrays Bruno Stroszek, and against all odds delivers a performance of extraordinary power. An alcoholic street singer just out of prison, Stroszek is beyond idiosyncratic and possibly even delusional. He also stands for the sad naivety of any dreamer who ever felt the itch to take up and leave the squalor behind them. Unable to speak English he gradually descends into alcoholism as the
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repossession of his trailer looms, and Eva returns to prostitution to compensate. Herzog’s film is bleak, but encapsulates the mood of strangers in strange lands. It also manages to find humour in the morbid, particularly in its climax, which features a dancing chicken as its final shot. KEY FILMS: AGUIRRE, THE WRATH OF GOD (1972)/FITZCARRALDO (1982) Both these seminal works feature barking mad Pole Klaus Kinski as the titular characters, and both performances are among the actors strongest. Kinski was an anomaly of a performer, relegated to B-movie schlock for the majority of his career. But when coupled with Herzog, he turned in ferocious performances, practically engulfing the frame with his presence. Aguirre, The Wrath of God and Fitzcarraldo both deal with dreamers of a very different nature. Herzog shot Aguirre for 370 thousand dollars on a camera stolen from the Munich Film School. In it, Aguirre leads an expedition of Spanish conquistadores on the search for the fabled El Dorado, leading to bloodshed, starvation and madness. The performance is controlled, exploding into occasional moments of voracity. This was at the request of Herzog, who wanted Kinski to exude a quiet menace. In Fitzcarraldo, Brian Sweeney Fitzgerald dreams of bringing an opera house to the natives of the Peruvian jungle. An epochal moment is where his native followers drag a steam boat uphill on rollers. The character of Brian Sweeney Fitzgerrald is more unhinged but admirable in
his enthusiasm. Both quests are failures, but Kinski and Herzog show us two sides of the human spirit, the indomitable and the mad, in a way that few filmmakers have managed quite as well since. ONE TO MISS: HEART OF GLASS This is not so much an indictment as a warning that several of Herzog’s films and documentaries can be fairly hard slog for first time viewers of his work. Therefore the following example is not necessarily one to miss, but one to warm up to. Herzog had the cast of 1976’s Heart of Glass perform under hypnosis, which some critics at the time praised while others derided as a gimmick. Ewen Hosie
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ets face it, in these troubled times of global terrorism, global warming and global economic screw ups (take a bow U.S mortgage lenders) there’s nothing we all want more than a solid, insightful piece of investigative journalism that will give us some straightforward answers and a bit of piece of mind. Instead, we here in the film office felt that it was high time to look at the best barnets in movie history. Feast your eyes on this lot.
ALL OOMPA LOOPMAS in WILLY WONKA (1971) Is there anything that isn’t cool about that noble race, the Oompa Loompas? They can make delicious chocolate; their official status as ‘mythical creatures’ means you can pay them bellow the minimum wage; their low centre of gravity makes them excellent gymnasts (think about those song endings for God’s sake…. “Oompa, loompa dupe de – little cartwheel – …do”) AND they have a fricking tiny green bob/mullet/quiff thing going on in the hair department. You try and pull that haircut off when you’re an orange midget, you know you wouldn’t look even half as cool (and it’d probably inhibit your rollie-pollies too, amateur). CHEWBACCA (PETER MAYHEW) in STAR WARS (1977) It was a tough call but Chewie has officially bumped Princess Leia out of our Top 5. Yes, Leia’s hair has become iconic, and yes it is particularly popular with the fancy dress crowd, but the sheer amount of hair that Chewbacca sports makes his immaculate bouffant styling a logistical triumph worthy of any top 5 (he really does look like a member of the BeeGees gone wrong). Just goes to show that quality doesn’t always override quantity. MUGATU (WILL FERRELL) in ZOOLANDER (2001) Though Derek Zoolander’s “afro for the white man” was good (Cuba
Gooding Jr’s words, not mine), it paled in comparison to the magnificent ‘do’ sported by everyone’s favourite evil fashion designer (and creator of the piano key neck tie) Jaqueopip Mugatu. Indeed, having talked to the fashion editors, it seems as though it has become something of a trend setter; apparently this winter’s hot new look is a platinum blonde, tightly curled flock of seagulls pilled up on top of the head to look like a giant ‘M’ shape. I have my curlers prepared already. JEAN-BAPTISTE EMANUEL ZORG (GARY OLDMAN) in THE FIFTH ELEMENT (1997) Not only is Zorg fantastically evil in a way that only Gary Oldman can express, but he also sports an utterly bizarre haircut desgned by Jean-Paul Gaultier (who was the costume designer on the movie). With half his head covered in a transparent piece of plastic (revealing baldness) and the other half a jet black undercut, this is certainly not an everyday hairstyle, but, for those special occasions you’re sure impress if you pull this one out. PRYMATT CONEHEAD (JANE CURTIN) in CONEHEADS (1993) Granted, this is less of a hair style and more of a head shape, but, as any bald man will tell you, being bald is a hair style too (and also an excellent advantage in rain detection – you never see a bald man caught out in a rain storm). Prymatt deserves her place because
AND THE CLOSE SHAV CLUBBER LANG (MR ES ... T) in ROCKY III This ‘extreme receding ha meets the afro’ look wa ir line s from our list by the Oo ousted mpa Loompas (they also beat him up ). I pity the fool. MARGE SIMPSON (JU LIE KAVNER) in THE SIM PSONS MOVIE A two foot blue behive tha Miss Winehouse to sha t puts me. JULES WINNFIELD (SA M JACKSON) in PULP FICTIO N Apparently the costum e guys got it wrong. Quentin wante d an afro, not Jerry curls. Luckily for him, the Lionel Ritchie look made Sam Jackson look like a Badass Mo the (he’s wallet told me to rfucker say it). MING THE MERCILESS VON SYDOW) in FLA (MAX SH GORDON Max played Ming The Me years after playing Jes rciless 15 us. Makes you wonder what would have happened if the Pharisees hadn’t gotten involved, doesn’t it? she was an innovator. That the lady coneheads also had bald heads, for me, signifies a bold step away from gender stereotyping into the far more palletable arena of laughing at someone because they’re bald. And oh, how we laughed. Words - Sim Eckstein Illustrations - Benjamin Phillps
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music
Efterklang
Parades The Leaf Label
All foreign and shit
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hen translated from Danish the word ‘Efterklang’ means to reverberate, ironically something the band had never really managed to do. Each of their previous efforts fit snugly into a saturated postrock scene without really craving any attention, only allowing new album Parades to shine all the more spectacularly. It’s not like there’s any radical shift in style; each song is based upon patient meandering of simple
ideas which inevitably develop into intricate frameworks of the band’s multi-instrumental assault. With Parades, however, Efterklang manage to execute the whole thing so much better, ultimately feeling like a band in control of their sound rather than some directionless post-rock orphan. The chanted vocals which dominate the record are a constant delight. On lead single ‘Mirador’, for example, they combine with an extravagant horn section to create a positive sense of grandeur. This is a mood which carries on throughout, making Parades a euphoric and scintillating listen which finally reverberates in the way thst Efterklang had only hinted at previously. 9/10 Kyle Ellison
Pick he Of T
k Wee
Raveonettes Lust Lust Lust Fierce Panda
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Sex and shit
ust Lust Lust marks a shimmy in style from everyone’s favourite Danish retro-pop duo. The 50s rockabilly aspect and classic stylings of Pretty in Black have been substituted for a synthetic brand of shoegaze, reminiscent of their debut album, Chain Gang Of Love, think the Jesus & Mary Chain For the first time the Raveonettes have chosen to use programmed
Kid Rock
Rock N’ Roll Jesus Epitaph
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Rock N’ shit
et’s get one thing straight before the review begins: Kid Rock is a tosser. Now, don’t let this fact influence how you feel about his music, but he really is an arse. Keep that in mind. Rock N’ Roll Jesus is in essence a surprisingly wimpy-sounding country-rock offering. High on ballads, low on anything actually worth listening to, the album
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drums and bass. This brings with it a cooler edge, and with Sharon Foo’s drowsy vocals creates an almost drone-like sound, such as on album opener Aly, Walk With Me. Wagner’s guitar, layered in reverb, creates waves of distortion adding to their carefully crafted noise-pop sound. The obvious criticism of the record is that it lacks any standout songs (there are no obvious singles), but as a cohesive piece of work and the refinement of a sound. Lust Lust Lust is a success, and marking a return to form from The Raveonettes. 7.5/10 Guy Fernyhough
may not be as unpleasant as sticking your face in a blender, but it’s no revelation. Despite a few flashes of musical aptitude, the whole thing sounds like those country albums they advertise on crappy TV channels; the ones that give away 10 CDs at once full of artists you’ve never heard of. So, not god-awful enough to slate and not good enough to recommend either. If Mr. Rock really is the Rock N Roll Jesus, someone needs to hurry up and crucify him, for all our sakes. 2/10 Andy Swidenbank
Farewell
Isn’t This Supposed To Be Fun!? Epitaph
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Bye and shit
eneath the fun cover-art lurks a creature, but do not be fooled; this beastie is no more than a kitten. Opener Start It Up is a shameless Fall Out Boy lift only without the popknow-how and a few added synth/ keyboard mutterings… actually, hang on, that sums up the whole album pretty well. Sure, kittens have claws, and Farewell occasionally reveal glimpses of sugar-coated joy with tracks such as Sing-Baby and Zelda (the former, I admit, pokes at my soft popemo-rock heart). Sadly, it let downs abound, with particular note to the “slow-downs” such as (the incredibly poorly-named) War, bringing me back to that kitten image I gave you earlier; poorly trained, tame and, whilst cute at times, when it leaves a little steamer on the carpet, you’ll be tired of it faster than you can say havesome-balls-and-write-something-new. 5/10 Sam Beeson