Thursday 8th March 07
Letter from the Editor.
Contents
Bonjour readers! Spring is upon us and to mark the occasion we’ve added an extra page to our magazine, not only that but we’ve
Fancy That?
printed an extra 100 copies due to the overwhelming demand. We can barely contain our excitement. It’s been a hectic few weeks, which has included a tear-
Sparrows and Tractors
away trip to Liverpool to see the sights....well maybe just the bars, if you're ever there check out the Philharmonic, apparently the most ornate pub in the UK....and getting there...take the M6 Toll Road, it’s like being transported to
Almost Perfect
a wonderful European motorway for an hour. Then we had the Lunar eclipse, unfortunately I was engulfed in Bear Grylls on C4, dropped into the Jungle with nothing but a
7 Stops
knife, he survived, snakes, termites, rain, severe diarrhoea and a 100 ft waterfall to make it out. Incredible! Now sit back on your tube, glance at the person opposite you and check for any amusing facial features, smirk, relax
Food
a bit and prepare yourself for a brand new illustrator cooking up a storm in the kitchen, a near perfect weekend and a bunch of Chelski sparrows tearing up the Kings Road.
Cultural Comment
-Ed.
these legs handed out your mag this week
Bellowhead
Listen Up
Nico
This weekend I had to attend a fancy dress party. Needless to say I was dreading it... The theme was Arabian nights, which under normal circumstances I would have relished (tassels, little tops and jingly hip decorations are right up my street). dressed like a prat; (3)The sheer embarrassment of the whole thing
‘sweet treats’ and rather fewer gym
will force people to guzzle copious
sessions than usual and have thus
amounts of alcohol.
developed what I believe is referred
And this night didn’t disappoint.
to as a ‘belly’: Yes, it is no longer a
On my arrival I was satisfied to see
stomach but a bon-a-fide ‘belly’. In
that apart from one Smart Alec who
case you were wondering I am put-
had hired an Aladdin’s costume
ting this lapse (in what is usually the
(there’s always one) everyone else
most flawless of regimes) down to
had experienced the same difficulty
the February blues; the same excuse
in interpreting the theme from the
I am using for the fact that my ward-
contents of their wardrobes as I
robe gained - 3 pairs of flat points, a
had. There were pillow cases for
pair of purple suede boots, 4 pairs of
Turbans, green wigs for...well I really
footless tights, a pair of grey pinstripe
couldn’t say, and trainers, lots of
trousers, a wrap top, 3 dresses, 2
trainers, but none of this seemed to
lingerie sets, 2 pairs of sun glasses
matter (even to the self appointed
and THE cutest summer Mac - in 3
style Nazi herself)! There was just
days!
this general feeling that everyone (in
Anyway, back to the main point
your fellow Londoners if everyone
their own way) had stepped out of their comfort zone, and this resulted
an Arabian night’s themed party to
in a sense of unity and camaraderie
attend, and with no sign of a ‘get out
(I imagine somewhat similar to that
of jail’ card I went on a mission into
experienced in London during the
the deepest darkest depths of my
blitz – People under siege, hatred for
wardrobe. I emerged looking like a
a common enemy - in this case the
proto-type for Bollywood Barbie; gen-
party organizer). Anyway, after a few
erally more Delhi Days than Arabian
(too many) glasses of rum punch no
nights, but regardless (rather proud
one cared (or remembered) what they
of my efforts) I mounted my magic
were wearing anymore, and far from
carpet (ok, dads Ford Focus) and off
the night of pain and humiliation I had
to the party I flew.
envisaged the evening was actually
you can always guarantee with a fancy dress party (1)That everyone is
language and religion, imagine the sense of unity you would feel with
which was that me and my belly had
Now, there are three things
miss impeccable
However I have to admit that of late I have indulged in rather more
rather pleasant; a bit of a laugh you might say. This all left me thinking that maybe
dreading it as much as you are,
the problem with society is the lack of
(2)You will not be the only one
fancy dress in every day life. Forget
was dressed up as something beginning with the letter ‘F’ or their favourite cartoon character! As Mr B said; wouldn’t Fancy Dress Mondays be the perfect ‘Ying’ to Casual Fridays ‘Yang’? However, I thought why wait for this day to arrive? Why follow when you can blaze the trail for true freedom of expression; and what better place to start than on our tubes of black? So, after much negotiation with the editor (we argued, I threatened to leave, he broke down, said the publication would be nothing without me, blah blah blah...) I have secured a prize for our very own ‘Fancy Dress on the Northern line Competition’! Send in pictures of you, your friends, the dog next door... whoever, in fancy dress; the best offerings will be printed in the next issue, and the winner shall receive a grand prize! So what are you waiting for? Get out there, and GET FANCY!
editor@theothersidemag.co.uk
SPARROWS, TRACTORS AND LOUIS BY CARDOROWSKI So there I was, straying from the ol’ Ink Line, chasing a film of esoteric and euro vintage when I slipped for a while into the... but please allow me to swerve a little here to mourn the passing of the Ionic in Golders G, and the fact that so many of those outta-the-way flea pits have gone all multiplex, showing the same confexions as the Big Boys, offering less nutritious value than the Corn they flog in the foyer. Makes me weep. This perhaps is a cul de sac, not a swerve, so... There I was in Chelsea, at the eponymous Palais du Cinema, biding my time afore the arrival of my espoused and hankering for some digestible sustenance as I loitered at the entrance of the Waiting Rose. Recognising my scruffy unworthiness I retreated, but not before spying a struggling Momma with her chain of stacked trolleys. I say Momma because surely with that Alpine peak of food piled high she musta been feeding an army o’ young uns, but I qualify myself because she just as surely didn’t look as if she’d ever popped a cutie from her belly. Tottering in high heels, powdered, preened and polished to within an inch of her self, she resembled nothing so much as an annorexic sparrow encumbered with an impossible array of wriggling worms. And then, afore I had time to do the physix, she literally
flew across the King’s Road before my eyes. Through buses, taxis and irate white van men to the safety of her monster black, tinted window Porsche 4X4 with shiny chrome and full fat wheels. “Some nest” I thought to myself as she fluttered at some hapless passing Yout’ who proceeded to transfer her bags from trolleys to Tractor. The Sparrow quickly struggled indelicately to the running boards, the glinting door handle and then the wheel and seat of her Himalayan Vehicle. The Yout’ had no sooner slammed the backdoor than she was off with a velocity and alacrity that surprised all who witnessed the event. Which truth be told was but myself and a bottle wielding gent of the Street. He burped and I tried to whistle. He turned to find another absurdity to amuse himself and insodoing his gambling rag fell from a pocket. I thought of calling him back but my eyes were trapped by a headline so brazen as to be impassable. The main pic was of some Nag and Jockey in full racing colours. The banner above screamed at me “TEMPTED BY LUCIFER?” and I was caught. Had I just fallen foul of that most insidious temptation? That snide call to judge others of their ill behaviour? For sure she embodied everything I aspire not to be; materialistic, vain, neurotic, selfish, rude
and false, but does that mean that that is who she really IS? Every bird needs a nest and it’s true that the smallest birds crave the safest homes, that the most neglected will put on the wildest show to attract a mate, the most neurotic to untold lengths to provide for their young. So who am I to judge such a fretful and frail bag of bones? And just who is She, this impossible, imperilled Passer d. domesticus (lat)? Why won’t she feed herself and live on food instead of nerves? Why is she roaming the Borough in such an obviously unsustainable vehicle/nest when such a preposterous splashing of cash does nothing to safeguard the future of the young uns I presuppose that she was on the way to feed? Why does she surround herself in such a penetrable
pity but also my brotherhood, for do we not all, at times live afeared lives? Encumber ourselves for protection? And is not ALL stuff but mere gilding and fancy Ironwork to weigh us down and deny us the potential that we all have within us? And have not I so availed myself with more than my fair share of Ironwork? Deadweight? We change the gilding, repaint the bars but still we’re slaves in cages. Her and Me. And who is to blame? ? ? ? Ooooohhhhh we could go on, couldn’t we?! We could name names! But in the end it’s us. You and Me and Her. Isn’t it? We cave and crumble before fear and temptation, we choose to win a crappy, puerile game rather than play the harder one that we may not win but we’d enjoy because of that. That Louis Cypher is a tricky signifier of wealth amidst a town of wannagets and willhaves? Doesn’t she understand that she has to, as Ray Lamontagne points out, be careful of walls, because when they fall, they will fall on you? But more than all of that, what is she so frightened of and who has made her that way? There is an old saying that goes ‘You can vote for freedom and you will probably lose, or you can vote for slavery and you will definitely win.” What goes begging though is, what do you lose and what do you win? Seems to me our Little Bird has clipped her wings to win a game that has erased her Self from the existence she finds herself in. She looks like she’s wrapped in a Gilded Cage unable to sing. And she deserves neither my judgement nor only my
buggerer, he used to be found in dark dank corners they say. Now he seems to float across our front pages, screens, billboards and radios unquestioned, and he’s sold us his slavery for the price of our freedom. Good deal for him. Death for us. Albeit a gold encrusted one. Maybe. In closing, I owe the sparrow an apology. Sorry Darlin’. But I know not where to find ya. I could hang out by Waitrose hoping for a return, but I do know where NOT to look, South of the River. I hear those tractors are barred from bridges because of their preposterous tonnage! LIGHTEN UP! return, but I do know where NOT to look, South of the River. I hear those tractors are barred from bridges because of their preposterous tonnage! LIGHTEN UP!
Here’s a HOT tip from Cardorowski Go to the Roundhouse (Chalk Farm and a hop or Camden Than and a trudge on the ol’ Ink Line) to catch ‘The Dream’ a version of Old Bills’ ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ by a gang of Indian Actors in 7 (count ‘em) languages. It’ll well and truly blow your mind. If you don’t do theatre or knows someone who doesn’t, take the trip. It’s everything that theatre should be but rarely is; Spectacular; Exotic; Funky and Funny; Romantic not sentimental; Precise and utterly WILD! If ya don’ know the story already, read the Cliff notes, if ya do, pin your ears back and your eyes open and get reaaaaadeeeeeeee!
editor@theothersidemag.co.uk
One goal shy of a perfect weekend their adoring audience at
Saturday morning 10.30am
better for seeing the
encapsulating our city is.
It’s easy to forget how
the same time with a breed
– awake and standing in
amateur Italians beating
How mesmerising it can be
of harmonic pop tunes that
the park, already sodden
the ‘Brave’ Scots. Then
on a crisp spring evening.
had to be seen to be really
with mud, my Saturday
home to mingle with
In particular there is some-
appreciated. The show
morning football team kicks
friends, in what can only
thing absolutely wonderful
was an extra special one
off. It’s a vital cup match, a
be described as the best
about being a Londoner
for which they employed
must win game and within
Saturday night venue in our
and wandering through the
a percussionist and a
ten minutes we are one
darling City: a bar in your
hoards of junkies, thieves and yanks in Ly-cester square, on to Piccadilly Circus and then down the steps to the ICA. On a mild Friday night the place was deserted apart from a few bodies searching for a ticket to see the brilliant Field Music. Rather fortuitously I was one of those few
W
garage. Stocked to the max
hat better way to spend the girlfriendless afternoon than with a few tins watching the egg chasers run around biting each others ears off.
bodies trying to offload the
with drink, loud music and anything else you please. Sunday morning 10.30am – awake and standing in the park, a little hungover and even more sodden with mud than yesterday. A less vital game for a different team but nonetheless as much fun, this time not even a last minute penalty could steal
spare ticket that my mate
multi-talented music player
down, the score fluctuates
victory from our grasp. 4-3.
had lumbered me with
to the three piece line up.
rapidly 1-1, 2-1, 2-2, 4-2,
Then off to Spurs, 3-0 up
as he’d decided to go on
They tore through songs
4-3, 6-3 clawing ourselves
within 20 minutes - it
a date (with a girl!). Not
new and old to everybody’s
back to 6 each and having
was a dream come true,
being used to touting and
delight, although rather
completed my first ever
eventually turning out
remembering back to the
disappointingly failed
hat-trick it’s all out attack,
4-1 victors with the biggest
last time, being arrested
to come back on for an
only to be denied by a last
cheer coming when the
on Brighton beach, when I
encore. The signs said it
minute own goal. 7-6 and
Chelski v Ars*nal score and
tried to sell the extra ticket
all though; CURFEW 11pm
everybody on the team
mass brawl appeared on
we had to the Beach Foot-
and it was well past that
looks like they’ve woken
the big screen.
ball, in which incidentally,
when the gig finished. It
up in a swamp! But this is
Eric Cantona was sent off ,
was however the beginning
football and we understand
this holds little relevance
What happened after
I was a little sceptical. How-
of a weekend (girlfriend/
it, take the winning with the
and is something that I
ever it went immediately
wife/partner/mistress) +
losing, the good with the
won’t be sharing with the
and with no trouble from
(less) Men nationwide
bad...you get the picture.
general public but come
the FEDS.
could only dream of. If
Anyway – What better
Field Music were by
Monday morning 180
you don’t believe in
way to spend the girlfriend-
minutes of playing around
far and away the most
football then like the BBC
less afternoon than with a
in a mud bath is beginning
professional band I have
newsreaders say, “look
few tins watching the egg
to catch up with me....if
ever seen, not only that
away now.”
chasers run around biting
only we could’ve scored
each others ears off. All the
one more goal!
but they managed to wow
In short here it is....
w With three FA Cup Matches on the BBC this weekend get your mates around and impress them with a Gourmet Chicken Burger.
h
For four people use: 4 Chicken Breasts Streaky Bacon Rocket Avocado Ciabatta Rolls. Sauces
TO SUBSCRIBE TO THE OTHER SIDE PLEASE SEND 5 STAMPED ADDRESSED ENVELOPES TO The Other Side Magazine, Suite 2, PO Box 39437, Muswell Hill, N10 3HL
1. Wrap your chicken breasts in the bacon and put them in a buttered frying pan, on a medium temperature. 2. While these are cooking chop the avo up and throw it in with the rocket, add some Olive Oil and Balsamic vinegar 3. On the Ciabatta, spread garnish at will, Mayo, Ketchup, Chilli Sauce, HP....it’s your decision. 4. Put Salad on bottom of Bun. 5. Take cooked Chicken and place on top of said Salad. 6. Place top half of Ciabatta on chicken. 7. Serve with Beers, Crisps and 3-1 to Spurs
This weeks competition Nicolas Wine shop in Muswell Hill have kindly donated a Wine Voucher for this weeks competition winners. To be in with a chance of winning and receiving expert help on French Wines from Alexandre then just answer this question. Who scored the Winning Goal in the 2006 FA Cup Final?
Please send all other correspondence to editor@theothersidemag.co.uk
a.GĂŠrard Depardieu b.Steven Gerrard c. Gerrard Houllier Please send your answer to the usual email!
editor@theothersidemag.co.uk
Downstairs at the King’s Head
Jump on the 41 to crouch end from Archway and get in before the crowds do for some hilarious comedy..Thursday’s is try out night...so be prepared for the best and worst of what North London has to offer us in the way of funny men and women. NB. don’t sit at the front!
The Proud Galleries
With the FA Cup quarter finals this weekend why not spend Sunday at Camden’s Proud Galleries. Loads of big screens beer offers and the best part is that it is lout-less.
Crouch End
£5-£9 entry
Stick around after for live music.
Blackburn v Man City, 16:00 Chelsea v Tottenham, 12:45 Plymouth v Watford, 18:00
East Finchley
Archway
Highgate Brent Cross
Camden Town
Tufnell Park
Chalk Hampstead Farm
Golders Green
Belsize Park
Mornington Crescent
Euston
Angel Warren Street
Moorga Tottenham Court Road Goodge Street
The Dream
a version of Old Bills' ‘Midsummer Night's Dream' by a gang of Indian Actors in 7 (count 'em) languages. It'll well and truly blow your mind. The Roundhouse Chalk Farm
Old Street
Kings Cross
Kentish Town
Leic
The ALPHA BEAT
Sat 10th March Make a date with new music Strokes influenced indie band release their ep at THE SPICE OF LIFE in Soho. It’s on Moor Street just Shaftesbury Avenue. Rinse it down with a late n oriental dinner in China To
£20
The best things going on in and around the Northern line both sides of the River
£5
The Fiddler’s Elbow
St Paddy’s Day 17th March I’ll be down in Brighton for the annual knees up. Live Bands lots of Guinness (if your not a fan of the Black Stuff..try mixing it with Tia Maria...YUM)
Theatre 503 Theatre503 and Strike Ensemble present a riotous and compelling exploration of how society deals with its outsiders by internationally acclaimed Australian writer Andrew Bovell.
When you’ve had enough. run 100 yards to the beach and jump in the Sea! £8-15 for a train there!
£12 / £7 concession Tuesdays PAY WHAT YOU CAN
Borough
Bank
ate
Elephant
London Bridge
Charing Cross
cester Square
Waterloo
Kennington
Clapham Common
Stockwell Oval
Clapham North
Embankment
Paris by train!
c
rock
. t off
night own
Anytime. I walked through waterloo station the other day and realised how easy it is to go to Paris for the Day/Night. For less than a new pair of Nikes you could be living it up with French. Visit the Palais De Tokyo for something other than the typical Eiffel, Louve same old and then find a little bistro who’s owners do not parlez anglais.
7 Stops editor@theothersidemag.co.uk
Food
Confessions of a celebrity-chef junkie I saw a celebrity chef pull up outside a swanky London club in his £150,000 Ferrari amidst a volley of snapping cameras and flashes, some half-baked, silicon-infused, sugarcoated blond tucked under his arm, fodder for the tabloids. I have to tell you that I wanted to deck him. Here’s why. You see, Mr Celebrity-Chef, you walk past me without so much as a by-your-leave when actually you should be stopping to shake me vigorously by the hand. It was me (and thousands like me) who put you in your Armani suit and your supercar. You would, after all, be
on the 14-inch black glass plate on to
nothing without us — your devoted
which my (SEE “http://great
minions — celebrity-chef junkies who
grub.com/recipes/511”) stilton-honey-
just can’t get enough of you.
stuffed-chocolate-coated-grape will
I did a crude calculation a while
be placed. And I would always forget
back. In my worst years as a user,
to taste the wonder of my boiled egg
I would watch around 600 hours of
and soldiers that I would have for
cooking shows annually (that’s not far
breakfast, the stuff TV shows should
off a month) and spend anywhere up
actually be telling us about.
to £500 on cook books. I would buy
If there are any TV moguls reading
gadgets for my kitchen that I never used but was told I had to have. My pantry would be full of ingredients I couldn’t even pronounce, let alone know how to use (although they did look good in their expensive glass containers). I would lie awake at night wondering what swanky meal to put together for dinner on Saturday, stress about it all week and then chicken out of the braised leg of pheasant, re-hydrated porcini and
this, you guys have a hell of a lot to ceps mushrooms in a tarragon and marsala jus with shavings of white truffles at the last minute. I reckon I never cooked a single recipe I saw on TV and maybe less than a dozen from all my cookbooks put together. I would wake up on the morning of a dinner party dripping in sweat, obsessing over how to ensure that the icing sugar was evenly distributed
answer for. You make millionaires out of some cute, witless girl who encourages us to cook crap meals in less than half an hour. You get studio audiences to whoop with delight when some over-the-hill, face-lifted has-been juggles a handful of garlic cloves. You take an hour out of our lives to show us how to make a pate from a rare wild boar that comes only
available in the first two weeks of November. And just when poor sods like me think they are over the worst you serve up some glitzy new show with even more exotic entrees served up in even more exotic locations with ingredients that would have (“http://greatgrub.com/reference/ alton_brown”) Alton Brown himself reaching for a culinary encyclopaedia. Show after show, day after day, you keep them coming. Then, just to rub our faces in it, you get us to buy the book that accompanies the series, making loads more cash for your network so that you can employ yet another witless wonder with a regional accent to showcase dishes we will never eat. I bet you sleep well at night on your full stomachs.
In fairness, we need to carry the
our planet has provided us with the
can too. After all, it is we who set the
most extraordinary variety of gifts that
Skyplus to record these wretched
makes our survival — well — tastier.
shows and part with our hard-earned
Weave that into a cloth of social fabric
cash to buy the pots, the pans, the
that adorns our tables, and you’ve got
shakers and makers (and, of course,
great grub. Trust me, you don’t need
the books). So much for the college
a celebrity chef for that.
fund. Thankfully, it doesn’t take too many hours in rehab to kick the habit.
by David king Lassman
I found hanging out with buddies who
illustrations by Toby Whyte
cook real food worked a treat. I have been clean for almost a year now. Truth is, there are some great TV personalities out there who have done a lot for food (the aforementioned Alton Brown, Jamie Oliver, Nigella Lawson to name a few). The point is most of them are missing the point. Food is not simply a science or just an art-form. It is a necessary function of survival and it just so happens that
editor@theothersidemag.co.uk
Cultural Comment
Darts? With the Olympics only 5 years away now I have decided to get fit. Possibly fit enough to be part of the British Darts team. Darts.... Olympics? Yes it is true the BDA (British Darts Association) are attempting to gain
to the bar to top up your Stella cannot be considered athletics. Fingers crossed people. If we can get Phil “THE POWER” Taylor and Andy Fordham to the Olympics anything is possible. Live
K
the Dream!
Olympic recognition. Surely in a sport where the most action involves walking
Eggs A Food that smells like a fart, case closed.
ASE You can’t beat a good science conference, and I say that with utmost meaning. It’s just gone 12.45 and the lunchtime rush has begun at Birmingham University where the ASE (association of Science education) show is taking place and what a day it has been so far. A young Asian man wearing a trilby hat has walked passed backwards and forwards 7 times in the last 8 or 9 minutes, perhaps looking for the free tea and coffee stand. About 10
TTTTTT
minutes ago what sounded
are questionable to say
the focus could be on the
like a herd of elephants
the least, one dropped his
people who tour around
came through the hallway
stethoscope into the fallen
the show with their suit-
to my left ‘stomp STOMP
mans blood before happily
cases filling them up with
STOMP’ getting louder and
placing in his ear.
whatever they can get their
louder until an old Dutch
When the ambulance
hands on be it, puzzles,
science teacher did his
arrives to take him away
pads of paper, gingerbread
best Didier Drogba
his colleagues, all from the
men, chocolate, one man
impression flying to the
Netherlands have been
has even gone so far to
floor head first. My initial
informed that he will be
ask if he can have my
reaction was that he had
taken to Selly Oak hospital,
bic biro straight out of my
had a heart attack or
where? Precisely. Once
hand....I’ve even witnessed
similar but it soon came to
there I wish them the best
some poaching the single
pass that he had tripped on
of luck getting back to
teabags and sugar from the
the shoddily put together
Holland.
coffee stand.
carpet that had been laid
Now if we add to that the
Like I said there is no way
in the gigantic marquee.
other things that occur
you can beat a good Sci-
He still sits opposite after
there is more than enough
ence Conference.
being bandaged by the
material for an entire series
ASE medics, whose skills
of sketch shows. Perhaps
Skinny Jeans Do men with low tight trousers look as silly as I think they do? The answer undoubtedly is yes! A resounding yes. Unless your face is as pale as the dulux dog and your legs could be replaced with a pair of chopsticks there is no way you should be in those ‘Cheap Monkey’ kegs. But who decides this? I mean that in the kindest of ways. Did Christian Dior waltz up to Pete Doherty at a Babyshambles after party and request he dons the ‘skinny jean’ or was the lure of borrowing a pair of Kate’s trousers too much for him. Whatever the case I as a 25 year old male cannot condone them.
Red Hot style! They had
“Lassoo” and a stage that
all of these events. Nothing
but two songs to strut their
could hardly bear the com-
like getting truth wrapped
stuff and in those brief mo-
motion! Jigs, reels and the
up in a dance! Especially
ments, they strutted, waltzed,
Rochdale Coconut Dance!
when you’re being taught
tangoed and morris danced
I
so
the “Lassoo” for the first
all over my head, hands
much since I swung to the
time and you wrench your
I start with
and feet. Left me bleeding
Clash City Rockers! Songs
shoulder with glee as the
a wahwah Bazouki solo!
and crumpled on the floor
of old that tell us that
song goes on for everrrrrrrr!
And if that don’t whet yer
begging
And
‘Honesty’s all out of Fashion’,
appetite, yer dead. How
they call themselves a Folk
of losing your baby cause
I could tell
‘bout a drum solo that threw
Band! Bloody liberty.
you wooed too slow, the
ya that they played the
BELLOWHEAD, Floral Hall, Royal Opera House, 24th feb 07.
for
more!
haven’t
sweated
in the kitchen sink and all
songs on both their records
it holds? Literally. A horn
‘Burlesque’ and the EP
section that would make
‘Eponymous’ and everyone
James Brown spin, do the
had a staggeringly good
splits and rise agaayin!?
time; that they were hauled
Might even get Tom Waits
back twice for more before
to cross the Atlantic! A sec-
‘health and safety’ demand-
tion that includes a Sou-
ed a cessation of festivities,
saphone! COME ON, I’m
(probably ‘cause the Minx
telling ya! More violins than
and Booty Soots were get-
a String Quartet, songs
ting uncomfortable vibes in their nether regions!) and
older than any Mississippi Bluesman wrote and more
So, off to the
perils of Flash Company,
that my two sons raved
energy than the most dan-
Opera House, minglin’ with
of death by Maiden, the
until they dropped, but you
gerous of speed fuelled
the Minx and the booted
plight of the Sailor who
won’t unnerstand it ‘til you
punks!! All this and more
and sooted. Briefly. As they
does too much lovin’, and
go yourselves. They’re do-
is Bellowhead. A descrip-
traipsed off to some sump-
how a May morning walk
ing the Fests this summer,
tion defying 11 piece combo
tuous feast of glittering sets,
can bring you face to face
Glasto and the ilk and will
that agglomerate in unlikely
courtly dances, age old
with untold beauty...
probably crop up in the
spaces and tear the roof off
songs and the Fat Lady we
Death! All of life was there,
most unlikely places in-
the sucker! I saw them first
bounded upstairs to songs
played at a lick that defied
between. So KEEP YER
on ‘Later with Jools’ and
the Argonauts sang on their
both time and space, their
EYES
laughed as the Chili Peppers
way to Jason’s fleece, 10
smiles belying the fact that
records you can get at
looked on aghast when the
skinny blokes and a blonde
among the band are those
Bellowhead.co.uk, but the
Bellows blew them away.
Cellist, the doing of the
who have suffered/enjoyed
gig’s the thing.
or
PEELED!
The
Make Doherty History #003
dcccccccccn Cut off his dealer’s phone line
editor@theothersidemag.co.uk
LISTEN UP
indi a bi
Lail Arad is drinking an apple juice; she has to drive later. There are no chauffeurs yet, but give it time and this girl could be bumbling around with the contingent of female British artists floating around Camden at the moment. Last Tuesday Lail performed at London’s Kemia Bar, the private members
sings in French, albeit a
club below Momo’s in Hed-
tongue in cheek Piaf. It’s
don Street, to an extremely
showy and it works. Lail
expectant audience, the
is playing 93 Feet East in
Bar is downstairs, under-
Brick Lane on 27 March, a
ground. It screams of mid-
big venue with a capacity
dle eastern princesses and
of 600. Whether or not Lail
far away lands, Persian
fills the venue is yet to be
rugs, flamboyant cushions
known but being able to
and wonderful cocktails
play there is the start that
only add to the atmosphere
she is looking for.
Lail has created, however,
On the other side of the
She was not happy with her show, slightly critical of herself. Watching for the first time I couldn’t tell, it was clear however that she was enjoying herself. She performed like a performer, something that her theatre degree has helped her do, giving her confidence to be in control of the stage. She wants to make it big, record that album and tour but she is very focussed, not a single bit wary of the music industry, it appears it is something she wants to embrace. Lail wants to play gigs and
new artists of the north, build up a following, play
certainly full of love. All in
(of London that is) lies The
better more prestigious
all though they were good.
Alpha Beat, hailing from
gigs and build that following
Lail has a really voluptuous
a garage in the woods of
up even more.
voice that fluctuates up
Finchley. A stylish 5-piece,
and down and round and
they take inspiration from
has received 15,000 hits.
round right over the top
the vibe of The Strokes,
She recently removed
of her keys. However on
set a fire under it and then
all of her songs from her
first impression it’s still not
doused it with sardonic wit.
Myspace page as they
the finished article. Maybe
Frontman Jamie Demitriou
were not representing
– she needs to find her
delivers the Mrs. Robinson
what she was doing live, “I
true voice?
themed floor-filler, “Cold
Her video on youtube
Shoulder” with an attitude
should have new songs up
A week later and they
by my next gig.” The songs
are up, on first listen she
at once passionate and
that were on the website
has achieved what she
insouciant, every inch
were sort of un-niched,
set out to do, there are
an icon of cool. Catchy,
a bit quiet, a bit drum ‘n’
elements of Edith Piaf, on
angular riffs come courtesy
bass, a bit showy and
‘Je Suis une Touriste’ she
of feral genius Nico and his
ie boys and ig show gal. brother Joshua Watts, both
this band, both live, where
out on the 10 March 2007
with the commitment they
on guitar, and bassist Jash
brash unpredictability
and you can see them at
both show will continue to
Brandler funks it up, locking
means it’s always going
the Spice of Life in Soho on
do so for a long time, prob-
in tightly with the muscular
to be something special,
the same day.
aggression of drummer
and on record, where the
Josh Williams. Every song
tunes have been perfectly
that like Lail, the Alpha
www.myspace.com/lailarad
is wound up so tightly with
captured at Brick Lane’s
Beat are very pro-active
www.myspace.com/theal-
pop hooks that you can’t
Soup Studios. The debut
with their music, they both
phabeat
help but fall in love with
ep ‘Sparkle Sparkle’ comes
make things happen and
It would appear to me
ably until something kicks off...
by Sam
editor@theothersidemag.co.uk
W H A T ' S N ICO
HINKING T N BE E
K E E W T HIS