otwo: Volume XVI, Issue 10

The University Observer’s Arts & Culture Supplement 02.03.10 VOL XV1 ISSUE 10

Bellydancing NIME Tour 3D Films Choice Music Prize Shutter Island

2 HELLO

How to: Be an emo What came first, the music or the misery? Probably neither...

Letter

from the Ed

F

irst things first: you are not an emo. You are a ‘scene child’ (or across the Atlantic, scene kid). Emo is a byword for a genre that doesn’t exist. Don’t wander into the Central Bank namedropping the e-word. Funnily enough, posers have a keen sense of smell when it comes to other posers.

The music is the key part. You must leave all idle preconceptions aside. My Chemical Romance are not cool. Scenesters value street cred, and liking My Chem doesn’t get you street cred with anyone (except me).

Your band tees shall be isolated to actual scene bands, as in slightly plasticine, all-American ‘you would’ types with tattoos in PC places and completely vacuous guitar versions of High School Musical songs. With this in mind, All Time Low, Paramore, and Hawthorne Heights are acceptable. The more neon the embossed, indecipherable shapes on the t-shirt, the better.

By the way, Converse are so last century – the thinking man’s scenester values Vans these days. Vans sponsor the Warped Tour. Like, duh.

It goes without saying that eyeliner is your friend.

Write random lyrics from your favourite songs along your arms and on your face with a Sharpie marker for added definition.

Your hair should be cut into the most bizarre asymmetrical beehive you can fashion this side of the

80s. Black hair is always appropriate, though neon has flourished amongst the chillenz of late. Bright pink has been slightly overdone, though blue and purple represent equally fun-loving options.

In terms of clothing, there are two main options.

Highly sexualised types – usually the ones with pink hair – will add a bow, tutu, and fishnet tights to their band tee. The gruffer types – usually the ones with black hair – will rock the ever popular jeans and hoodie look.

Now, your social networking. You must have a Twitter, MySpace, Tumblr, Facebook, and Bebo. Never mind if you only use one. All are pivotal. You need to make as many friends as possible – oh yes, by the way, solitude is not fashionable. When was the last time you saw a scenester with fewer than twelve people around them? Exactly. You will also need to learn to fangirl.

Get ridiculously overexcited whenever a band posts a new picture of themselves being “candid” and “ironic”, dub them the greatest musical mind who ever walked the earth and bring them banners when they play shows here. Queue from dawn and scream frequently, before embracing the power of the crowd surge once you get inside. Fainting is for losers. Last one standing gets the setlist, after all.

Grace Duffy

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02.03.10

Hey reader, Welcome to this fortnight’s issue of otwo. As you know, Jeremy Kyle is coming to visit UCD this week (even possibly today). Make sure you all give him a big hardy and verbal kick in the shins from me, and maybe from the rest of this paper. Then we can go on to talk about our problems, as well as Kyle’s.

I know that sounds a bit over the top, but hey – I’m just in that kind of mood right now.

Other guests visiting our bright and fuzzy campus included Panti, of the Pantibar. The majority of you, just like myself, are probably thinking: “Who?” Well, find out for yourself on page 14. Obviously I hadn’t a clue as I first referred to her/he/it as a he/she/it, Panti being a genderneutral name. I’m sure she’s a lovely bloke given all that though.

In response to all the comments we’ve been getting over a piece in the last issue of otwo by our hariously brilliant writer, Emer Sugrue, I would just like to comment that this is an entertainment magazine. Thanks for showing interest, and all. but at the end of the day we’re only students having a bit of fun.

Enjoy the issue.

Colin otwo@universityobserver.ie twitter.com/otwo

WHINGE 3

SOAPBOX Fresh from being soaked waiting for the 145, Alison Lee slams public transport Cast your mind a month back, when Dublin ground to a halt thanks to a spell of unseasonably cold weather. No buses were in operation. That same week I travelled to a snowy Germany, and yet everything worked. Trams glided with swan-like elegance along the icy streets; helpful digital signs at every stop informed commuters when the next tram was due; a tram was delayed for about five minutes once during the trip. The shock and outrage on the faces of the healthy blonde Aryans sharing the platform with me made me shake my head in wonder at their childlike naïvety.

I am a battle-scarred public transport veteran. That bus shelter beside the N11 is my own personal Vietnam. For over two years I’ve trudged there in the rain, laden down with books and gym gear. I’ve elbowed little old ladies and sobbing firstyears out of the way for that elusive seat on the 145, only to have the surly driver shut the doors in my face with the words “We’re full” without even so much as an apology. Then again, life isn’t that much better on board – especially on a Friday night when you’re inevitably subjected to the shrieks of tipsy teeny-boppers on the way to Wesley, or skangerlings blasting Cascada from their mobiles.

Dublin’s “public transport system” is one of Ireland’s more shameful disasters.

We have a grand total of two metro lines (which, though built at the same time, cannot connect together because one line is wider than the other). We have a vast labyrinth of bus corridors served by buses operating by an entirely different timetable to the one displayed at the bus stop (and that’s if there’s one displayed at the bus stop) – and don’t forget the “light rail system” which exists solely so the affluent denizens of Dalkey and Greystones can avoid getting the aforementioned buses, unless they attend UCD of course, because Ireland’s largest university isn’t served by either the DART or the Luas.

Then again, there’s something spiritual about waiting for the bus. Something almost…meditative. As a commuter, learning how to be patient is essential, unless you want early-onset stressinduced heart disease to cut your life short. Think of commuting as an obscure unofficial sect of Zen Buddhism, where they key to reaching that Nirvana of resignation lies in accepting that a bus might come in time - or not come at all.

This fortnight’s movers and losers as chosen by otwo’s resident hot stuff Michelle McCormick

HOT

Crystal Swing If there’s one thing the current music scene has been missing, it’s creepily enthusiastic Irish people with weird voices – and their Ma on the keyboard. With such epic hits as ‘He Drinks Tequila’ Crystal Swing are an internet sensation – and rumour has it that they’re headlining the UCD Ball. Keep it quiet!

Curling Who knew fucking a stone down some ice and chasing it with brushes was a sport?

Apparently it is, and all the cool kids are now staying up til the wee hours (cough! Deputy Ed!) to watch angrylooking females shout “HARD!” and do some fervent sweeping. There might even be rules.

Scally The epitome of all Scallyness, Scally is one hot piece of ass.

Not only does he make good photos, his series of whiteboard sketches of the SU sabbats (tentatively titled “The Retard Project”) is the most important art of our time. Scally runs on clockwork and thinks only in numbers.

Elements breakfasts The best time to eat breakfast is, obviously, lunchtime – so instead of ending breakfast at silly times like 11:30, you can get your daily bacon allowance right up until 12.25 in the bowels of the Science building. And they won’t charge you an extra euro for a burntbut-cold hash brown.

Lent Does anyone else find it weird that the same people who’d laugh at the idea of Mass outside Easter and Christmas take to the Lenten sacrifice like zealots on a pilgrimage? Here’s an insider tip – you don’t need God’s permission to go off chocolate, beer, takeaways, or porn. And in this failing economy, we can’t really afford to either.

Rappers & Slappers As if the women of UCD needed an excuse to go out dressed as slappers... Aside from the logistical nightmare of the thing, the lack of originality or shame is astounding. Even the posters conjure up an image of randy teenagers rubbing their thighs in glee at their ploy to see naked women. Just call it “Show Us Your Tits”.

Not Washing Perhaps it’s just the Student Centre, but there’s been an alarming increase in the amount of people who simply do not wash. Has a cool new trend passed us by?

Perhaps the number of dirty stopouts is vastly on the increase? We don’t know. All we know is that we’re tired of sharing office space with people who smell like vodka and shame.

NOT

Oxegen lineup Thank fuck for Electric Picnic is all I’ll say. I can’t think of a more torturous way to waste 200 quid than spending it on a weekend where I’ll have to sleep in mud/beer soup while having my tent peed on by some vacant 13-yearold. Not to mention the fact that the likelihood of stabbing-by-Eminemfan is quite high. No thank you, MCD. otwo

02.03.10

4

WHINGE

say what ???

QUESTION: What’s the thing you most hate about UCD? asks Selva Unal “Basically there’s nothing to hate about UCD. Everything is great here!”

Mohd Hanif Yusof, 1st Medicine

“

“I don’t really have any problems with UCD, I really like it!”

Nur Zulaikha Binti Zainol, 1st Medicine

“The Irish students organise the programme [of activities] which is not suitable or compatible with our culture; that’s why we can’t join.”

Breffni O’Rourke, 2nd Arts

“The administration.”

”

Justine Kelly, 3rd Arts

Twats of the Fortnight Want to know what celebrities are twittering on about these days? Michelle McCormick rounds up this fortnight’s biggest twats for your perusal... @planetjedward #jedwardpic glee OMGlee you guys it’s our two favourite things in the whole planet – J to the E to the... er, Jedward and Glee, omg so coooool. It’s dedleeee. Yeah, Jedward let’s do it!!1!eleventy. @noelfielding11 just made an egg macmuffin for Hugh Laurie. He doesn’t know this as I have never met him. But I will be furious if he lets it go cold.

We don’t know what Noel Fielding is on... but we want some. Also, we would like an Egg McMuffin. @taylorswift13 I just used a Sharpie as eye liner in the airplane bathroom Classy burd that Taylor Swift. I’m real happy for you and imma let you finish, but actual eyeliner is the best eyeliner of all time. Of all time.

@realbillbailey revenge, the main ingredient in the Klingon cookbook Bill Bailey? A nerd? Who’d have guessed. @simonpegg Hey babe, just DMing you to let you know that I’m wearing your underwear and I killed next door’s cat with a pencil. Keep it under your hat.

Simon Pegg gets to grips with accidentally public DMs. Awkward turtle. @phlaimeaux I’m starting the first retro search engine. Just ring me up & ask me whatever it is. If I don’t know, I’ll give you my dad’s number.

Watch out Google, David O’Doherty’s plotting to usurp your totalitarian search engine regime. @parishilton So Excited for Tonight!!

Why, Paris, what’s the big occasion? Are you being euthanised? Please say you are. otwo

02.03.10

otwo attempts : Bellydancing

ATTEMPTS 5

Alison Lee dusts off her bedlah, struts her bellystuff and pulls her best Shakira moves...

U

ntil recently, the term “dance class” served only traumatise me with flashbacks to myself as a clumsy eight-year-old, weeping after my first disastrous Irish dancing lesson.

That hour of torture made it painfully clear that my lifelong dream of starring in Riverdance just wasn’t going to come true – so I joined a taekwondo club instead. After about a decade of getting the crap kicked out of me, I felt that perhaps it was time for a change – yet it was with some trepidation that I signed up for my first bellydance class. It’s an art form I always saw as being reserved for smoky-eyed, exotic, Oriental beauties – not pale, bespectacled Vet students from Shankill. But I plucked up my courage and arrived at the decidedly unglamorous St. Thomas’ College Of Further Education in Bray to learn how to be sexy, how to be seductive, and how to hopefully avoid pulling too many muscles in the process.

‘Bellydancing’ is a rather misleading name. Professional bellydancers don’t have ‘bellies’ at all – flat, toned, perfectly-formed abdomens, yes; ‘bellies’ in the Homer Simpson sense of the word, most certainly not. But thankfully the class wasn’t composed entirely of nubile young women who work part-time in Leggs – in fact some of the women present were middle-aged, along with a few studenty types like myself. Some of my classmates were so ancient that I wondered if they had gotten lost on the way to bingo and wound up bellydancing entirely by accident.

The class was devoid of males but once all the gyrating commenced, I realised this was definitely for the best.

Our instructor Claire turned out to be a native of Bray herself – a petite, pale professional dancer who insisted we get dressed up in proper bellydancing gear to get in the mood for our first lesson. The power of sparkly things should never be underestimated: within a few minutes we were dolled up in Claire’s jingly coin-

belts and long embroidered skirts, warming up enthusiastically to traditional Indian music. One of the sweetest, sunniest people this hard-bitten journalist has ever come across,

she gave a little speech about how we were to support each other, take part, and above all not worry about embarrassing ourselves in front of our classmates.

This pep-talk was essential, because, in a beginner’s bellydancing class, you have to embarrass yourself roughly every thirty seconds – and keep a big smile plastered on your face while doing so. Claire’s mantra (“feet shoulder width apart, knees bent, pelvis tucked under, ribcage raised, chest open, shoulders back, chin up, and SMILE!”) gave us a lot to concentrate on. But we tried our best to keep it in mind as we shimmied, pivoted, and massacred the most elusive of all bellydancing moves, the bizarrely-named “camel”. Thankfully Claire was always there with a smile or and a word of encouragement no matter how daft we looked. After a while I came to terms with the fact that despite looking like a complete twat, I was enjoying myself.

The verdict? Despite initial misgivings, I will most certainly be returning to bellydance class. You don’t have to be super-fit and scarily flexible to take part, and there’s plenty of opportunities to indulge in the guilty pleasure of playing dress-up. Not to mention that bellydancing, when done well, is beautiful, hypnotic and graceful – maybe even more so than Riverdance.

Homer

“‘Bellies’ in the sense of the word, most certainly not”

Simpson

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02.03.10

6 MUSIC

Mixtape

A Mixtape for driving Tearing down the highway with the rooftop down? In this weather?

You crazy thing. Alison Lee’s got you covered – musically, at least The Doors – ‘LA Woman’ A road trip isn’t a roadtrip without the gravelly voice of Mr Mojo’ Risin blaring from the stereo.

Sadly Cadillacs, highways and deserts are rare in this neck of the woods – but give it a spin next time you’re zooming along the M50.

Bob Marley – ‘Jammin’’ We’ve all spent eternity stuck in traffic, cursing red lights, learners and pensioners in Ford Fiestas. Think how many hours that stress is knocking off your life! Next time you’re caught in a jam throw on Bob Marley, sit back, and chillax.

Pendulum – ‘Voodoo People’ remix You’re late for something. Be it the birth of your first child or the new episode of Desperate Housewives, you need to get somewhere fast.

Who better to hurry you along: The Prodigy or Pendulum? Problem solved: they’re both here in this superfast, superfrenzied drum n’ bass remix.

The Smiths – ‘There Is A Light That Never Goes Out’ Lyrics like “If a double-decker bus crashes into us, to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die” may be a little politically incorrect… But this bittersweet coming of age ballad is nonetheless one of Morissey’s finest works.

Rage Against The Machine – ‘Fistful Of Steel’ There’s nothing like driving when you’re pissed off. And if there was ever a band that knows how to be pissed off, it’s Rage Against The Machine.

This loud, violent song probably won’t calm you down but there’ll be rhythm to your wrath.

Girl Talk – ‘Play Your Part (Pt 1)’ Mashup DJ Gregg Gillis “borrowed” samples from over 25 artists to use on this track, including Jay-Z, Sinead O’Connor, and Roy Orbison. The result is a zany hip-hop remix. Pump it up and pick up some chicks in da hood. Or pick up milk

from Spar, whatever.

Golden Earring – ‘Radar Love’ What list of driving tunes would be complete without a power ballad? This song hearkens back to a lost golden era when rock stars wore sparkly pants, when men played tambourines, and when mullets were sexy.

Kraftwerk – ‘Trans-Europe Express’ Add ‘techno’ to the endless list of “things Germans are good at”: This glitchy electronic beat may have been written about a train but it’s also the perfect musical backdrop for expeditions along the autobahn.

The Clash – ‘Rock the Casbah’ Maybe it’s too early to fantasize about summertime, but this Clash track always springs to mind as a great soundtrack for carefree cruising in the sunshine.

MCD PRESENTS

09 MAR 2010

PLUS SPECIAL GUEST

ALBERTA CROSS

CONDUCTED BY Dirk Brossé

07 MARCH 2010

TICKETS FROM e70 (Inc.Bkg.Fee)*

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MATINEE: Doors 12pm. Show 13.30pm tickets from E45 (inc.Bkg.Fee)* PRESENTED BY MCD IN ASSOCIATION WITH WME ENTERTAINMENT

TICKETS E54.80 / E59.80 / E65.70 (INC.BKG.FEE)

MCD BY ARRANGEMENT WITH X-RAY PRESENTS

Fri 26 Mar 10 - The Academy

PLUS SPECIAL GUESTS

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TICKETS E20.00 (INC.BKG.FEE) *TICKETS from Ticketmaster outlets nationwide. 24 Hrs: 0818 719 300. Buy On Line; www.ticketmaster.ie.

(Telephone & Internet bookings subject to e3.35 s/c per ticket up to e28.50; 12.5% over e28.50 (max e6.35) / Agents e2.25) Subscribe now to mcd.ie for the latest live entertainment, news and tickets.

otwo

02.03.10

Metamorphosise This!

DRAMA 7

Trying not to interrupt the general flow of things, Jake O’Brien catches the players of DRAM30140 rehearsing a relatively postmodern interpretation of Franz Kafka’s The Trial

I

n Room C213 of the Newman Building, a lady is pacing back and forth scene uttering frantically colloquial renderings of the play’s narrative.

This particular theatrical adaptation of Kafka’s infamous book has come from the mind of Steven Berkoff, who took the writing under his dramatic wing in 1971.

There are “no set or props,” according to director Neil Pearson, “Berkoff would rail against what he calls the bourgeois theatre: realistic sets, so we have none.” Hence, there’s heavy stuff at work here. Pearson reveals a particular affinity the work, telling otwo that The Trial was the first play he ever directed in college: “It was the first play I ever directed, about 15 years ago when I was a student in UCC, so it was in the back of my head. Then a sort of series of coincidences after that pointed in that direction.”

With no props or real set pieces

to speak of, the onus becomes heavily placed on the lighting (“Expressionist, that’s what I would be aiming for... German Expressionist”). With that in mind, a professional lighting technician handles the light and dark of the stage.

“There’s a number of different ways of looking at the play in terms of man’s guilt about existence,” Pearson says. “What we’re bringing out is a sort of resonance in contemporary Irish society as well, because K himself [the leading protagonist] works in a bank, and the importance that banks have been having in this country!”

Combining this contemporary attitude towards the original text alongside theoretical and exercise practices of Grotowski (among others), Pearson and his players – who also act as crew in this holistic production – are eager to illustrate their pride in a work they

have devoted much time to. Some performers otwo meets admit to having given in excess of eight hours per week, on top of other college commitments and work.

Colm Kenny-Vaughan plays the lead role of Joseph K, and doubles as publicity manager for the play alongside Robbie Osborne.

He’s apprehensive but optimistic: “Tensions are quite high at the moment because we haven’t quite finished everything yet, but we’re getting there... We’re much more comfortable as a group now, we’re much more comfortable with the text, with the ideas behind it, with the direction we’re going.”

The group atmosphere in C213 is indeed electric, and without tension, nerves or giddy excitement, it wouldn’t be seem to be the same. With such commitment and characters, this production of The Trial - amateur in name only - is sure to be a success.

The Trial plays the Smock Alley Theatre from 17th-20th March.

Tickets are on sale in the Newman Building, priced at €10/€12.

Where the hell is Beaumont?

Stunning solos, sharp choreography and superlative acting: this year’s UCD Community Musical Footloose serves as an impressive showcase for UCD’s stage talent, says Grace Murphy

Any hopes I held for this promising production were surpassed twofold as the feel good factor raised the roof in O’Reilly Hall.

Fast-footed brilliance came in the form of main man Conor Nolan as Ren, who frolicked through his lines whilst maintaining an impressive Chicago accent. But his talents don’t stop there – Nolan’s vocals on ‘Raising Paradise’ also raised goose bumps; this man’s musicality is not to be underestimated.

Enter Stuart Pollock as the goofy Willard: a comedic gold-mine, as everything from his poise to his timing provided endless comic relief – his performance of ‘Mama Says’ awarded him not one but two rounds of applause from the appreciative audience.

Jackie Hennessy shone as leading lady Ariel, making it difficult to believe that Footloose is her musical debut. She appeared incredibly comfortable in the role, and will undoubtedly continue a career

in musical theatre following this success. Hennessy’s rendition of ‘Holding Out For A Hero’ was sung with Ariel’s Greek chorus-style triplet of BFFs, played by Sophie Dobson, Elise Brennan and the vivacious Ciara Murphy. This number was possibly the biggest vocal success of the production, elevating it to another level of professionalism.

Choreographer Rachel Wiseman is to be commended for her vibrant and fun routines, which are exuberant and flashy without being over-thetop cheesy, a thin line thankfully

otwo

treaded carefully by the sprightly chorus of Footloose. The simplistic set design works very well – a cast brimming with talent such as this need not be supported with extensive props and yet the design serves to provide the necessary atmosphere without disrupting the fluidity of scenes.

Although Footloose is superficially a showy, jazzy musical; it grapples with issues such as grief, spirituality and belonging to a community – a task the cast carries out beautifully.

The fast paced teenage shenanigans

02.03.10

are contrasted with the more sombre scenes between the minister and his wife, portrayed delicately by Andrew Deering and Emily Leonard. The two share some credible chemistry and together with Ren’s mother Ethel (Treasa Uí Lídeadha), they interject some poignancy which works well in contrast to the colourful dance numbers.

Homage must be paid to Eoghan McNeill as Chuck, for his impressive portrayal of the ultimate trailer trash boyfriend. He reminded me of one of the greasers from The Outsiders with an uncanny accent to boot. Kudos is also due to Zoe Reynolds (Eleanor/ Betty Blast and Cop) who should probably just adopt that accent permanently.

Special attention must also be awarded to the house-band, directed

by Bronagh McManus – which gave the show a feeling of authenticity.

Footloose is everything a musical should be – fun, energetic and merry as an episode of Glee.

8

MUSIC

The Artistic

Butterfly Ciara Doyle speaks to awardwinning singer Julie Feeney about the Choice Music Prize and being a woman of many talents

J

ulie Feeney, the Galway-born winner of the Choice Music Prize in 2006 with her first album 13 Songs, has found herself on the 2010 shortlist for new album pages.

Feeney is a multitalented artiste: the singer-songwriter, producer, composer, conductor, theatre artist and – wait for it – hat designer. While she has her roots in classical music, luckily for us all she decided to venture into the world of pop and rock. The list of her musical instruments includes keyboard, alto recorder, treble recorder, harmonium, accordion, violin, harmonica, melodica, xylophone and the clock. The awardwinning multi-talented songstress tried to express to otwo what an amazing feeling it was to win the prize with a debut album – and in a completely different musical sphere to what she was used to.

“Absolutely unbelievably amazing,” she says. “It was such a privilege and such a joy. It was my first entry into what I perceived as the rock and pop world, coming from a classical world so it was quite a jolt to win the prize!”

Julie also reflects on how the win affected her in terms of spanning the two genres of classical and more mainstream pop and rock. “The transition is relevant to how I develop as an artist. As I went on I gravitated towards working with orchestras still, so the transition is ongoing and it will be ongoing. I’ve become a completely different artist to who I was then.”

Julie produced pages entirely by herself and worked on the different aspects of the album individually and separately, explaining that “It was necessary to have compartmentalising of the different parts of the album, because it was such a big project.”

Feeney stresses how important it was to be organised and prepared for the production of the album. “I needed to be ready way ahead of time, and I had a limited budget so the money I did have went on the two sessions spent with the orchestra.

I needed to know that I was ready because I couldn’t throw anything away, including time.”

Julie spent a considerable amount of time working at the Artists’ Retreat in Annaghmakerrig in County Monaghan, where she spent six weeks preparing what would become the lyrics for her new album. She needed this time away to gather all of her notes and ideas that she had accumulated in her thought copies, she says, and achieve her ambition to transform the words into poems. Julie reveals that she felt the need to be “sure that the words were all right and that they were going to be able to stand up over time.”

When the music had been produced and recorded and she was satisfied with her poetry, it would appear to most people to be quite a daunting task to slot the pieces together. No so for Feeney, however, who says she simply felt that “some of the words then suggested music and some of the music then

“I had to be sure the words were all right and that they were going to stand up over time” otwo

02.03.10

suggested that they would be with certain of the poems.”

But as was clear from her many titles, Julie Feeney is not one to stick to what she knows, and has taken inspiration from her own award-winning music video for her song ‘Impossibly Beautiful’, featuring designer headgear by Piers Atkinson. This sparked a theme of outrageous hats in Julie’s live acts, and Feeney herself has decided to venture into the artistic and suitably creative world of design herself. Her first design was debuted at this year’s Meteor Awards, where she was up for nomination for the Best Irish Female Artist, competing against artists including Dolores O’Riordan and Laura Izibor. She seemed unsure of how the award show would go, modestly commenting that “I have no idea, and it’s a funny one in that it’s votes, you just don’t know. It will be a great night though!” As it happened, neither Julie nor the above mentioned two won on the night, as the award went to Wallis Bird, but the Choice Prize still lingers on the horizon.

One thing Julie was sure about when we spoke to her however was her hopes for her potential designer future.

“It’s certainly something that I’m going to continue to do myself. I hope I can get into making headpieces more.”

But music remains at the top as her true passion and love (as she said herself, “This is what I want to be doing when I’m 90!”) and if she manages to secure another Choice Music Prize on 3rd March then such a lengthy career could be on the cards.

Feeney’s universal passion is clearest, however, when otwo asks about her upcoming gig in a certain National Concert Hall in May. “Really I’m absolutely ecstatic!” she screams. “I have a lot of work to do. In fact a huge amount of work, but I’m really excited.”

Julie Feeney plays the National Concert Hall on May 29.

Visit www.nch.ie or www.juliefeeney.com for details.

MUSIC 9

Welcome to the Dark Side

Explosions in the N.I.

How dark can Dark get? Deirdre Flannery speaks to Dark Room Notes’ newest recruit, drummer Darragh Shanahan, to find out

H

ailing from both the east and west of the country, Dark Room Notes’ formation can be said to have been as organic as their music. The electro-indie sound of the Irish group – or “social music” as drummer Darragh prefers to call it – has evolved over the past six years, from the band’s origins as a grunge outfit, to the more techno-inclined quartet they are today. “Playing around at gigs, meeting people at parties, it just kind of evolved – it’s like a gang mentality. Whoever we collaborate with we just meet along the way, and if the vibe is good, we follow it. We just gather momentum and people!”

Paul Fennessy speaks to Johnny Adger of And So I Watch You from Afar about the unassuming postrock outfit’s recent Choice Music Prize nomination

D

epending on your point of view, post-rock is either the most pretentious music genre ever conceived, or a noble pursuit undertaken by admirable musical purists in an age where the industry is sadly lacking in tunes of substance. otwo conforms to the latter consensus, believing that post-rock has spawned some of the most beautiful sounds of the past two decades amid a movement spearheaded by bands such as Godspeed! You Black Emperor and Explosions in the Sky.

Clearly the vibe has been more than good, as debut album We Love You Dark Matter is currently shortlisted for the Choice Music Award. To be in a shortlist of ten – narrowed down from over 180 entrants – came as some surprise to the unassuming act. “We just heard it on the radio when the announcements were coming out, and we thought, ‘Ah, that’s weird.’ It’s great, though!”

DRN certainly stick out from the troubadour tradition that has haunted the national music scene for manys a year, and Darragh notes that their music is not typical of what you might hear on Irish radio. However, DRN’s unique fusion of rock and electronic music was not entirely by design and in fact came about after laptops and keyboard effects were utilised in the temporary absence of musicians. “Because of line-up changes, the technology replaced the people that were there before, but then it actually became the sound.

Necessity is the mother of invention with this band,” Shanahan explains.

Having played a string of New York shows, DRN are about to jet back to the States again to play the venerable SXSW festival in Austin, Texas. The annual showcase is the place to get seen in the US, and is guaranteed to be packed with press eager to get their claws into the “next big thing.” The band intends to continue touring America throughout March and September.

Darragh reveals that the internet was a key factor in their stateside success.

“We just started gaining momentum on MySpace over there, so we thought we ’d go over and see if that audience liked us and they did.”

With their SXSW show scheduled for Paddy’s Day, otwo wonders if the Irish foursome will be wearing the shamrock on stage. “We have to be sober for when we’re playing, so we can’t be doing anything crazy,” says Darragh, “but after that, who knows?”

Who knows, indeed, what is next for Dark Room Notes. Making waves at home and abroad, this band clearly has no trouble tempting us over to the dark side.

Regardless, though, mention of this notoriously challenging genre often causes music fans to roll their eyes, particularly when it is crafted by an obscure, up-and-coming Northern Irish band. otwo asks Johnny Adger, the bassist of And So I Watch You from Afar, whether being associated with post-rock constitutes a hindrance.

“Well initially people were kind of like, ‘Right, an instrumental band, let’s see what they’ve got’. But people who’ve come to see us have said, ‘Look, I thought you were just gonna be normal shoe-gazey post-rock, but you weren’t.’”

Evidently, it is not just fans at the gigs that have recognised the band’s unique talents – they were one of the more surprising names to be shortlisted during the recent Choice Music Prize nominations. Yet Adger appears to have received such acclaim with typical modesty.

“We were surprised to be honest, but we just felt very honoured by it, because I think when you look at the range of talent through the nominees, it just feels like an honour to be the only alternative rock band up for the nomination.”

Adler sees this critical approval as testament to how in Irish music, “the trend seems to have shifted now,” as there is an increasing audience for the type of intelligent, expertly arranged songs which ASIWYFA specialise in.

Their music’s intricate nature leads otwo to ask whether it was intended as a deliberate antidote to the ubiquity of three-minute pop songs that characterises the iPod generation. Yet the truth of how their sound materialised is considerably less romantic. Adger recalls how: “It was never decided that we were gonna be solely instrumental... It just sort of happened and it worked for us.”

The bassist’s passion for making music is manifest. From someone who is used to speaking with fame-obsessed artists who are plainly in it for the money, Adger’s modesty and lack of pretentiousness is refreshing. His genuine acknowledgement of possessing the good fortune to live the dream is conveyed when he concludes excitedly that “just being part of the Irish scene at the minute is something very exciting and it’s something we’re really happy to be a part of.”

Dark Room Notes play the Choice Music Awards at Vicar St on March 3rd.

Tickets €27 from Ticketmaster. www.choicemusicprize.com

And So I Watch You From Afar play the Andrews Lane Theatre on 26th March - see myspace.com/andsoiwatchyoufromafar. Letters EP is out now.

otwo

02.03.10

10 COLUMNS

It’s Jamie’s world... we just live in it How to break a sink in three pieces but leaving a half-empty beer bottle completely intact - as described by otwo ceramics hater Jamie Martin

I

can be, to put it mildly, what has been described as a “rowdy drunk”. The summer I turned 18 there was a string of house parties in which, through no fault of my own, a few things were broken. These things were mostly trivial; lamps, paintings, washing machines, one-ofa-kind Fabergé eggs - you know, that tat.

My friend’s girlfriend of the day was due to turn eighteen and so she threw a party, as you do. I was invited, but only under the strict terms that I was not to break anything.

My friend wanted to make a good impression on the parents – the last thing he needed was his drunk mates tearing the place up. So, I decided to take it easy and have a nice relaxing night. Just chill out and have a few beers. The night got off to a great start. We met the parents who were very friendly, the cousins, the sisters, the friends.

We helped ourselves to some food and drinks. I could feel my friend’s cold gaze watching my every move, waiting for any sign of trouble. I excused myself at one point, as I needed to use the bathroom and slipped upstairs.

I was at that point where you walk into the toilet, smiling to yourself because you’re having a great night. I placed my bottle of beer on the glass shelf above the sink and proceeded to urinate. Halfway through pissing I heard an almighty crash, and turned around to see the sink in three massive pieces on the ground. Within maybe five seconds (which to this day I still find very strange considering I was in the upstairs toilet and

AGONY ANTO If yeh see us in de pub buy us a pint, will ’eh?

Dear Anto, I’ve just lost my part-time job.

Cutbacks and all that. How can I afford to pay my rent and drink until the end of term? I spend €100 a week on rent, €5 on Pot Noodles and everything else on drink. Where can I get this money? What would Anto do?

Philip

everyone else was downstairs), my friend was through the door.

“What the fuck have you done!” he screamed. He was swiftly followed by the father of the birthday girl, the mother, the aunty, the cousins, and the rest of the party. I hadn’t had a chance to put my dick away yet.

There comes a time in every man’s life where he has to make a choice: he has to nut up or shut up. This was not one of those times. I did what any self respecting man would do and began sobbing drunkenly, trying to explain that it was the glass shelf, or it was the bottle... It was anything but me.

What made the whole thing very curious was that although the bathroom sink was smashed to pieces, the bottle lay on the ground completely intact.

Needless to say, this made my story questionable to the gathering jury. My defence went something like this: “I’m so so sorry, man – seriously, I’ll pay for it”.

The dad, who was very cool about the whole thing took one look at my scuffed leather jacket and replied snappily.

“With what?...”

Dear Philip, Ta be honest wichya, Anto’d jus fall over. Sue de bleedin’ Corpo.

Jacinta got herself kitted ou’ in JD Sports after de snow ‘nd ice claim.

Well we stole it, bu’ de fact is, we cuda paid for it. We cuda!

D’ja know how much John Player Blue ya can get with that sorta money? Oim no human calculator bu enough ta puff like a muffler exhaust fer a yeear.

We got Anto Jr’s ear pierced ta celebrate de last claim. I think I’m gonna fall over next week. Anto Jr Jr needs a new pair a Nikes.

Yurs, Anto ~ Anto, I went out to Dicey’s with the lads last Thursday and now I can’t go to my Ag classes without scratching myself. I think I have the crabs.

I went to the Welfare Office but they just gave me a Gillette razor and some Sudocreme, said to shave otwo

02.03.10

my balls. I can’t stop itching. It’s embarrassing. I was thrown out of the library for attempting indecent exposure. The bald security man told me to meet him in at 822/Sex for some Anne Sexton. What does this mean?

Anthony, can you help me before I go back to Kilkenny this weekend, I have the big hurling final on Saturday. I spent all the grant money on the Ag ball so I can’t go to the chemist, Oh and should I go to 822/ Sex? Sheamus Dear Sheamus, Wha de bejasus are ye askin me? To shave yer fookin balls fer ye? Ye stupa prick.

I went to James’s te ge’ de Aids testin after I rode dis dodgy wan in de back of de 77 bus. She had a flippin’ ronnie an a belly piercing all infected bu’ she waz sharin’ her Druids so all gud buzz boyz! Dey said I got De Clam in India. Oiv neva been in India.

Ye wanker, ye shud of went ta India ta get De Clam. Jacinta can’t get up the keith duffy now.

Get yer Mudder te shave yer balls.

Sure ye got de crabs off her ye virgin.

Ye go to 822/Sex. Go on ye gud thin!

Yers, Anto Email yizzer problems to anto@ universityobserver.ie or follow him on Twitter at twitter.com/ AgonyAnto. He’ll sort yiz pronto.

Fear, Loathing & Lost Wages

CULTURE 11

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but Colin Sweetman will still share a few experiences…

W

e were somewhere after Barstow on the edge of the desert when sleep began to take hold. I remember saying something like “I feel a bit hungover; maybe you should take my iPod...” And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us as the bus slowed down to let us passengers take a glimpse of the sky, which was full of what looked like some kid’s gigantic Lego set, all towering over the bus, now going about a twenty miles an hour with the aircon broken to the central strip of Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! Get me off this goddamn sweatbox!”

Of course, this is only a rewrite from the popular Hunter S. Thompson novel, but it arguably sums up my arrival in Las Vegas. That said, Vegas bears little resemblance in real life to how it’s depicted in literature and films (Ocean’s Whatever, What Happens in Vegas, other crap movies).

The main strip is currently undergoing massive construction work as one of the world’s largest hotels, the MGM CityCenter, is readied for opening in a few months. Sadly for us, this meant walking around the entire street just to get to the other side, which – in desert weather – meant arriving at our nightclub destination drowned in sweat.

Despite this, Vegas appeared just as I expected it to: unbelievably elusive. After driving for several

hours through dirt and sand, its mirage just pops out of nowhere.

But let’s cut to the chase. Drink in nightclubs is very expensive – just a tad bit higher than the prices you’d expect to be asked for in, say, Lillie’s Bordello. One might pay $20+ into one of the lesser-known clubs that charges $5 for a bottle of Budweiser.

It’s not the price of alcohol that’s not the moneygrabber: in the three days I spent there, I spent only about a fifth of my money on alcohol, about half of it on gambling losses, and the rest on travel expenses.

The thing about gambling in Las Vegas is that the minimum hand for most games (excluding the slot machines) is $5 in cheap casinos, and $20

in the more upmarket ones. Of course, you also have to know how to play – a persistent problem for me – so I did what most big non-gamblers do, and threw all my money (about $200) on red, black, odd, even, and 24. Needless to say, I didn’t win a single thing throughout the entire trip.

But even in losing that much hard-earned cash, how often would you find yourself in Vegas? My fellow gambler, on the other hand, was one of those winner-loser people. He persisted gambling throughout each night, once coming back to the hotel room having lost as much as myself, and the next night having won twice as much as he’d lost.

There are of course, other pieces to this story, but what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas… except for the crippling overdraft. And the herpes.

The Salt Survivor Ciara Fitzpatrick discusses the world premiere of Laurent Gaudé’s play Sodome, My Love with Lynne Parker of Rough Magic Theatre Company Sodome, My Love – a play by French author Laurent Gaudé, a winner of the Prix Goncourt – is to receive its world premiere at the Project Arts Centre this month. Translated into English by Olwen Fourée, an Irishborn actor of French parentage, this is the first time the play has been performed in either language. Fourée, as well as translating the work, is the sole performer.

Directing the piece is Lynne Parker, who elaborates on the content of the play. “It is sort of based loosely on the myth of Lot’s wife, who as you know was turned into a pillar of salt, but this is actually a story of a sort of mythic woman who was incarcerated in salt after the destruction of Sodome and is now coming back to life”. Moreover, “it’s really about her return to this world and how she’s bringing back into this world with her

the whole essence of that destroyed city.”

Gaudé is not a household name on these shores, but Parker notes that “his writing is very bleak and very intense and highly poetic, so it’s quite challenging to do, it’s wonderful.”

Parker went to meet with the author in Paris, an experience she found “extremely useful”, and the author is due to pay a visit to Dublin to give a talk in the Project Arts Centre next month before one performance.

Parker’s next directorial project after Sodome, My Love is Rough Magic’s production of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest, starring Stockard Channing. One might imagine that it is difficult to make the transition from one play to the next, but this doesn’t seem to be the case for Parker. “You know you’re entering in these different worlds otwo

and that’s part of the fun of it actually, and that keeps your brain ticking over”.

Rough Magic Theatre Company was set up 26 years ago by Parker and some friends, who so enjoyed putting on plays as students in college, that they decided to pursue theatre professionally. The company has won two Fringe First awards in Edinburgh in the past nine years, and has won the Irish Times Theatre award for Best Production four times.

After such a long career in theatre, how does Parker maintain her passion and enthusiasm? The answer is a combination of things, but the biggest creative stimuli usually come from the people she works with. “It 02.03.10

comes from the people you work with enormously, and you know as I say we’ve never confined ourselves to one style of theatre or one subject matter – so you know you’re always finding new things to question, and new ways of looking at how you work, and how that work interacts with the world about you.”

Sodome, My Love previews at the Project Arts Centre on the 12th, 13th and 15th of March, and runs until the 27th. www.projectartscentre.ie

12 TRAVEL

Balinese Something…

W

Bali conjures up images of a tropical island paradise, but there’s much more to see than just palm trees and sandy beaches, writes Catriona Laverty

hile parts of Bali are undoubtedly idyllic, they also don’t offer too much for anyone outside honeymooners and second honeymooners. Kuta, the main city in Bali, is the destination of choice for most of us, and is rather perfect for group holidays – student or otherwise.

Kuta is a bustling tourist town about a 15-minute drive from the main airport in Denpasar, with most of the action centered around Poppies Lanes I & II. It’s on these roads that you’ll find most of the hotels, restaurants and bars. One of the best budget hotels is undoubtedly the Masa Inn on Poppies Lane II. Single rooms here cost about €13 (180,000 Rupiah) per night B&B, while a triple room is about €9 per night each B&B. Although the rooms are fairly basic (the traditional Balinese versions are a little more luxurious) the grounds, pools and staff more than make up for it.

One of the best things about Masa is its location - just three or four minutes walk from most of the bars and restaurants and about five minutes from the beach, it’s the perfect base for a holiday in Kuta.

The summer temperatures get up into the high 30s, so most of your time will be spent cooling off by the pool. Going for walks around the city isn’t recommended between midday and 4pm, it’s just too warm, but morning explorations are definitely worth a go.

Poppies really comes to life in the evening time, however; there are dozens of bars to choose from, as well as every type of restaurant you could wish for – from traditional Balinese to Mexican. Most main courses range from €3-5, and the local beer Bintang costs about 70c for a small bottle or €1 for a large (litre) bottle. If you’re into cocktails, then you’ll have a field day with the Bali Moon liqeurs, a particular recommendation is the Lime Crush.

Delicious!

If things by the pool are a little too quiet for your taste, the beach is only a five minute walk from most of the hotels in Kuta and is

well worth a visit. If you’re going to try to spend the day on the beach be prepared to fend off locals trying to sell you sarongs/pearls/tattoos/ cushions/towels/crossbows(!)/water/ ice-cream/bikinis.

Kuta is a surfer’s paradise, and has been a mecca for the beautiful ones (mainly girls, sadly) from Australia for many’s a year. While there are dozens of surf schools dotted through the town, run by Australian ex-pats, the best lessons are given by the local surfer types hanging around otwo

the beach. A couple of hours only costs around €10, and you get oneon-one teaching.

If surfing, lounging and haggling with the local shopkeepers aren’t your thing, then you could always take a trip around the rest of the island. While most of Indonesia is Muslim, Bali’s Hindu culture means there are hundreds of beautiful temples throughout the island. A chauffeured day trip can be organised from one of the many travel stalls along Poppies Lane, 02.03.10

and shouldn’t cost more than €40 for two days including lunch. But be warned: the driving in Bali is hairy to say the least, so if you’re a nervous traveller it might be better to give that one a miss.

If you are looking for a little fix of tropical paradise, I’d heartily recommend a trip to the Gili islands.

Just over an hour away by boat from Bali, the trip there and back can be organised either by your hotel or one of the travel stalls. Tourism is the island’s only industry: there are no cars, no police, no hospitals, only one generator, and no fresh water on the island. What it does have is numerous dive schools, bars, restuarants and miles of golden beach. Gili is a diver’s heaven – one of the cheapest and most beautiful places in the world to do a diving course, with its coral reef off the coast. Be warned though - you’ll be up at six in the morning for the duration of the course, and you’ll leave with plenty of homework for the evening.

With only one generator, power cuts are frequent and extended. It’s an idea to book a hotel that has its own generator, but one of the nicest places on the island is the Pesona bungalow resort. You can chill out on the hammocks during the day, or spend hours in the beachfront huts.

You may spend extensive hours in the dark to make up for it, but it’s all part of the experience.

Gili is a party island, by sunset all the bars are setting up for their nightly barbeques, and each club has its own designated night of the week to be the party destination.

(Thursdays belong to the ubiquitous Irish bar Tír na nÓg.)

Sampling the locally caught seafood is a must on Gili. You can have fresh lobster for around €4, and the red snapper is always a winner.

There are of course other restaurants to choose from; Indian, Chinese and Italian food is available, but the street barbeques really shouldn’t be missed.

There are daily flights to Bali from Jakarta, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur and Hong Kong, so you can always check out some of the world’s mustsee cities on the way there and back.

TRAVEL 13

The Tokyo Times

F

or most of us on this island, the closest we might get to Tokyo is a late night viewing of Sofia Coppola’s Lost in Translation, interspersed with epic vistas of endless and eerily grey skyscrapers fading into oblivion. While its buildings do indeed fade into the distance, drowning in a sea of their own abundance, the city is much more colourful and lively than one might think. Tokyo – or, strictly speaking, the 26 cities making up the ‘Tokyo metropolis’ – is one of the few hubs, on a par with New York and London, where a wandering soul can do pretty much anything that crosses their mind.

First things first, though, a warning: if you’re travelling in summertime you’ll be in for a serious thermal shock the moment you step outside the door of Narita airport. During the intense heat of the summer monsoon months, you’ll feel a spectacular bam! of humidity. Monsoon season lasts from mid-July well into the autumn, but it’s nothing to be feared – the rain is soothingly warm and never lasts for very long.

It’s here that any ‘gaijin’ (western traveller) will first experience Japanese humility and hospitality.

Outside any of Tokyo’s municipal buildings, travellers will find stashes of freely available umbrellas, the belief being when it rains, you take one; when it stops, you return it to the nearest stand. Unbelievably from an Irish perspective, the system works – proving elegantly the Japanese mutual conscientiousness for the welfare of fellow citizens. If further prove was needed, consider the masks you might see the locals wearing, guarding their lungs from the city’s chronic smog. These aren’t smog masks at all: they’re worn by anyone with a bout of sniffles, trying not to share their viruses with the Tokyoites with whom they share their cramped quarters.

Walking any street in Tokyo, but particularly in the Shinjuku district, is a strange experience for a gaijin. For one thing, the usual terms of reference

If you’re planning on visiting Asia this summer, you could do worse than spend a few days sampling the unique delights of Tokyo, writes Gavan Reilly

one has when travelling – recognising fast food chains or major clothing brands – are almost entirely lost, with global logos being diluted by incomprehensible katakana letters. Similarly, it’s possibly the closest most of us will ever come to being illiterate: where in other countries with Latin script we can make a decent attempt at pronouncing a placename, there is little hope of doing so in Tokyo – though, thankfully, many placename signs include an English rendering.

But back to the city itself. Tokyo is a cramped and bustling town – an understandable problem with 39 million people in its greater metropolitan area; only 3 per cent of Japan’s land is inhabitable – and, true to form, caters to all sorts of whims.

In Shinjuku itself, where I stayed, the intimate masses of commuters and travellers crowd around electronics stores and a bizarre frequency of pornography kiosks. (Seriously – ever wanted to know what Misty from Pokémon looks like in the nude? You won’t be long in finding out - and if you’ve ever seen the cartoon Sailor Moon, you’ll never think of it in the same way again.)

A prime example of Japanese technological excess is a visit to Akibahara, more commonly known – even by the locals – as ‘Electric Town’. As home to the world’s biggest video games developers (Nintendo and Taito logos are frequent occurances; Sega have their HQ elsewhere in the city), Akibahara is full of electronic hyperstores – each comparable in size to the entire floor space of Dundrum Town Centre – and crammed arcades where local technokids pound the floors and walls in the otwo

02.03.10

new wave of Wii-style arcade games.

These arcades aren’t for the fainthearted: the noise is deafening. With hundreds of machines crammed on each floor of a multi-storey building, and each machine competing with its clones for the attention of a passer-by – the volume can be monstrous.

The city is not all about mass hubbub, though. To take a break from the bustle, head out to the Meiji Shrine at Yoyogi Park. Situated in the Shibuya district – home of the world-famous Shubiya Crossing, the world’s busiest pedestrian area – the serenity of the world-famous iris garden is simply breathtaking.

Burial place of Japan’s beloved Emperor Meiji and his wife Shoken, the still lapping waters of the fountains and the silence of the prayer yard are a welcome relief from the cavalcade of metropolitan life. Visitors are invited to pin prayers to the shrines, giving a welcome insight into the sheer volume of visitors. Still, the shrine’s not far from some fun – Yoyogi park itself, aside from being a home to Tokyo’s emo and skateboarding classes, hosts a world-famous open air market which is always worth a roam.

For a sense of the historical Japan, meanwhile, visit the Senso-Ji temple in the Taito district. A former Tendai temple, its main pagoda is the closest you might feel to sharing a space with the famoous samurai warriors of old – and as Tokyo’s oldest temple, it attracts a fair quantity of street traders selling all kinds of endearingly stereotypical Japanese memorabilia. If you’re asked to bring home a souvenir, this is where to go looking.

Though Tokyo isn’t the most obvious tourist destination in Asia, it’s certainly worth hopping to for a few days. It mightn’t be have the same student-friendly pull as somewhere like Thailand, and it might be a little more expensive (though always getting cheaper), but if you find yourself in that part of the world, you could do far worse than spend a few days in this beautiful metropolitan mix of technology and history.

Queen of the

scene

In the past twenty years, Dublin’s gay scene has gone from strength to strength – and now there’s a new queen on the block. Michelle McCormick talks blogs, bars and boys with everyone’s favourite landlady panti

“Alternative Miss Ireland was the best thing ever to happen to the gay scene. It showed people that the scene doesn’t have to be in a basement, and it changed a lot of things”

“W

hen I was your age, there were no gay people in public life.

There were rumours that Boy George might be gay. The only gays you ever saw were on TV, getting beaten up by police.”

There’s no denying that Panti – sweetheart of the gay scene and hostess with the mostess – has a wicked sense of humour. But there’s more to this drag queen than caustic wit and devastating good looks.

Owner of Dublin’s hottest new gay bar and author of one of the most read pop culture blogs in the country, Panti’s got her perfectly manicured fingers in many pies, and it’s working. Success didn’t come overnight. As the queen herself decreed at a talk in UCD last week, 80s Ireland wasn’t a place one could make a living doing drag. After studying graphic design for something to do (“I only went to Art college because I wanted to meet gays”), the young Panti started to carve out her niche as a club promoter and all-round good time gal.

After a brief stint in Japan where she starred in TV shows and danced on stage with Cyndi Lauper, the return to Dublin was a depressing one.

“I thought to be fabulous you had to be from New York or somewhere,” she says. “I always thought I’d have to have a regular job.”

“So I started going to straight clubs in drag and making myself the centre of attention, the most fun person there. Then I told the owners that I’d come back every night if they paid me. And they did. That’s how I started earning a living as a drag queen.”

From then until now, Panti has undoubtedly earned her crown as the queen of the gay scene in Dublin. Her Perfectly Preposterous All Day Sunday Half Price Sale (and accompanying hilarious YouTube promo) has catapulted the bar into popularity, eclipsing both the George and the Dragon as the place to be, whether you’re gay, straight or just a bit slutty. While earning a living doing what she loves is a dream come true for Panti, she also yearns for the early days of the scene.

“Young gays just want to go to Dragon and drink Bacardi Breezers – that kills me. The gay

scene used to have a real make and do feel about it, but money watered it down. Because the venues are all quite big and tended to be run by corporations, they were very careful or nervous about doing stuff.

Everything became bigger and the stakes became higher so people weren’t willing to take chances, and everything became very bland.”

“But that’s already beginning to change because of the recession. Even just stupid stuff, like the Dragon has go-go dancers on the bar – I don’t think that would have happened four years ago because they didn’t need to make efforts and they were afraid to take chances. They wanted it to be all the fluffy pink pound, they didn’t want it to be... too gay!”

Whether the bland nature of the scene is due to lack of ambition or simple fear is impossible to tell, but it’s definitely an improvement on the bad old days when such clubs were underground by necessity.

At the height of the 80s, gay activism was rife, as was AIDS, something that this gay generation has little or no experience with. The establishment of the Alternative Miss Ireland contest in 1987 was an attempt to raise funds for HIV and AIDS charities, and has had massive benefits other than helping those affected by the disease.

As hostess, Panti’s role in the contest marks her continuing involvement in the fight against AIDS, a

Then I told the owners that I’d come back every night if they paid me.

And they did.

cause that she’s adopted from personal experience, too. “In the 80s, people were always dying,” says Panti. “Most of my friends I met because I kept seeing them at AIDS funerals. Now hardly anybody dies, so I don’t get to make new friends anymore.”

“Alternative Miss Ireland was the best thing ever to happen to the gay scene. It showed people that the scene doesn’t have to be in a basement, and it changed a lot of things. There wouldn’t be gay bars in Dublin without Alternative Miss Ireland. Of all the things I’ve done, it’s by far the thing I’m most proud of.”

Pantibar – languishing in the uncharted territory of the Northside – has gone some way to reestablishing the camaraderie and personality of the scene, says Panti. “People are generally wanting more smaller, connected spaces. I think the day of the super-pub is sort of over.” When questioned about the bar’s sudden jump to hotspot status, Panti is reluctant to crow about her own success too much.

With the bar in operation for over two years now, it’s been a grower for the gays of Dublin, she says.

“Like any new business, it takes a while to settle in, especially if it’s a gay venue because gays are very slow to break out of their routine. They always want to go where the most people will be.”

Having one of the most Zeitgeisty blogs out

there hasn’t hurt either when it comes to garnering business. For those of you caught up in the Crystal Swing hysteria currently sweeping the nation (and wondering, like most of us, where the hell it came from), you have Panti to thank. After discovering the tremendous trio on YouTube and posting to the blog, the band were shoved quite rudely into the limelight.

Having Panti as the spokesqueen for the bar has done wonders for business, because it means the company is better able to connect with people in the media they’re now most familiar with – ridiculous videos, snarky commentary and 140-character witticisms. “Having Panti as the face of the bar helps with name recognition, first of all. With things like the blog and on Facebook, it’s difficult for a company to use those technologies well, because people aren’t interested in hearing from a business - they feel like they’re only being sold to,” she says.

“People are fine with being a Facebook friend with Panti or reading the blog, because Panti is a person – a person who happens to have a bar!”

With the blog, the bar, Alternative Miss Ireland, Pride, writing and performing, Panti’s diary is very much full to bursting with... being Panti. However, the idea that making a living from drag is an impossibility is something that hasn’t dissipated with time, despite her numerous successes.

“I’ve been using the drag to make money in other ways, whether it was plays or club promotions or the bar. I think I used to until even five or ten years ago, I thought ‘surely I won’t still be in a dress when I’m 50’, but I bet you I will!”

“The reality has changed; it just became a slow recognition that actually, I don’t know how to do anything else. Like any job, sometimes it feels like a job. Sometimes the last thing I really wanna do is stick on a face full of makeup, or I’m not in the mood to be performing – but when I think about it, god, it’s such a fun way to make a living.”

Of course, with Panti being an alter-ego, having to be ‘on’ 24/7 is something that not many employees would be jealous of. But there’s more to it than just playing a character. “Drag is an art form. It can be whatever you want it to be. Drag queens incorporate the masculine and feminine into one – and in many cultures, that’s divine. The local shaman will come to you with feathers in his hair and a limp wrist. The idea that drag is gay or modern isn’t true.”

There is an element of escapism in donning a dress and putting on the slap, however. Not only does it give you licence to let your inner hilarious bitch out, but you also get an insight into the dirty laundry of others, says Panti.

“You can say anything in drag and people don’t take offence – but people will also say anything to you because you’re already the lowest rung on the ladder; you’re a cross-dressing fag in public. People never imagine that a drag queen will judge them.”

Anything, according to herself, involves stories of incest and intrigue... not to mention lost innocence.

It seems like a fine life – being who you want to be, running your own bar, saying what you like to whoever you like and getting paid for the privilege.

While Panti, at the end of the day, is just another entrepreneur with an admittedly very Unique Selling Point, the element of performance can’t be ignored.

Doesn’t pretending to be someone else ever get old?

“I would never want to be a Rory performer,” she says. “I have no interest in that at all. I don’t feel trapped in Panti. Anyway, Panti’s much better looking than I am. With the right lighting and Photoshop...”

Panti addressed the UCD LGBT Society as part of last week’s SU Rainbow Week.

16 FASHION

TRASH AESTHETICS Being stylish is one of the greatest things you can do all alone that doesn’t make you feel guilty or ashamed, like eating a whole cake by yourself, or wanking. Seán McGovern shows just how much fun you can have on your bed with your clothes on

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f the fashion industry is to decree on a seasonal basis just what, exactly, is in style, it also has to redefine the concept of beauty.

Subversive culture has always trickled into mainstream thought, as underground style is diluted by generic reproduction. Lady Gaga has brought subversive style to the fore again by making haute couture cowmmonplace – that is, by making the unwearable wearable, she has questioned previous perceptions of what constitutes style, fashion and beauty all in her excessively commericalised way and all for the hell of it. What a paradox.

Trash film director John Waters, in his 197-wha? film Female Trouble, looked at the theme of “crime is beauty” long before it went from the outrageous to the ironic and to its current resting place of critical thought. The film – like its characters – is cheap, but within the the trade of bad taste lies a

highly intelligent satire. It charts the life of fictional criminal Dawn Davenport (Divine), from her early days as a common criminal to her trial and execution, as she kills those who wish to die for art, who are willing to die for beauty in its most grotesque nature.

Contemporary parallels are drawn with the late Jade Goody and – curiously – the phenomenal Lady Gaga. The problem with Lady Gaga is just whether she is ironic or not: if she is, she would have a further flood of prestigious acclaim and lose her marketability. If she wasn’t styled with a pinch of irony, she would sadly be just another perpatrator of hollow mass culture, and make even more money than she does now.

As the streets become the real runways for those who wish to place individuality, the setting of high style becomes wherever you can make it.

Everything we wear is never designed simply by otwo

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coincidence – even the cheapest goods we wear are based with an aesthetic in mind, very often being the aesthetic du jour. The same applies for those who design their style based on vintage styles – which have become fashionable in a subversive way.

Style and beauty are what you make them. Those who dismiss any form of constructed self aesthetic are fooling themselves into thinking they do not subscibe to that idea. The world is superficial, and whether we wish to admit it or not it is how the world will always initially judge you. Style and fashion are very different things. Individual style shows a confidence in oneself. Outward security is the only place to start for an inward one. Lady Gaga isn’t doing something new for fashion. She’s doing it for herself. She’s doing it for fun. She’s doing what you’re not.

FASHION 17

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18 FASHION

Tony wears: Black waistcoat, €60, Topman White shirt with black cuffs and collar, €40, Topman Black silk tie, €20, Marks & Spencer Black skinny jeans, €60, Topman Boots and shoes courtesy of Topman, Grafton St Marian wears: Red dress, €20, Penneys Necklace, model’s own Shoes, both €99, Topshop, St. Stephen’s Green Seán wears: Trench coat, €15 from Irish Cancer Society on Camden St Tommy Hilfiger shirt, €15 from St Vincent de Paul, Rathmines Trousers, €40, Topman Balmoral boots, €99, TK Maxx Patent shoes €69, courtesy of Topman, Grafton St Eithne wears: Black leggings, €16, A-Wear Top, €8, A-Wear Jacket, €25, Penneys Red shoes, €97, River Island Cage heels, €99, Topshop Stylist and Art Direction: Seán McGovern Style Assistant: Marian Carey Photographer: Colin Scally Models: Marian Carey, Anthony Costello, Eithne Fitzsimons, Seán McGovern Special thanks to Topman and TopShop More photos from this shoot can be seen at www.universityobserver.ie/ otwo/fashion

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TV by Numbers

9

TELLYRAND 19

Grace Duffy gets to grips with life in America’s sexiest zip code, 90210

0210, the bastardised offspring of popular nineties drama Beverley Hills 90210, is an oddity of a show if ever there was one. Lingering between drama and comedy, it half-expects you to take its vapid, nonsensical characters and their melodramatic dilemmas seriously, while halfwallowing in its own cheesy implausibility.

90210 likes to think it’s more relevant than it is, foisting half-drawn sketches of what are (presumably very real) LA stereotypes upon us, as played exceptionally – Home & Away-esque – badly by a cast cultivated almost entirely from Canada. But let’s not hold that against it – Canada is infinitely preferable to the States – and despite all these shortcomings the show somehow manages to be awesome.

It’s fond of half-addressing issues that might genuinely affect people in high school – sexting, dobbing in your friends, being wrongfully accused of shagging your friend’s boyfriend when her sister was the true culprit – not to mention the slightly more controversial issue of being the adopted black son of a very

white Midwestern family. However, it graciously does all this in a very ‘this is sort of, kind of, important, but here are some naked people instead’ manner. Characters come and go freely – a Narc cop appeared in two or three episodes of Season One, left a totally unresolved storyline, and has literally never been seen since – and the regulars undergo such heroically hilarious endeavours each week, it’s hard not to keep watching.

In one recent episode, Adrianna (that same girl who, in season one, found out she was five months pregnant while somehow still rocking a size zero) broke up with her boyfriend Navid and started a “relationship” with Teddy, only to realise her mistake, dump Teddy, and return to Navid, only for him not to want her, because she [shock!] kissed Teddy while she was still going out with him. Phew! Still with me?

Let’s not forget Silver, the would-be heroine of the piece who underwent a mental breakdown and became

bipolar in the space of half an hour last season, but seems strangely rational in her behaviour this season.

Or as rational as you can be when you’re from Los Angeles.

both sexes. I shall mourn the demise of her relationship with the [similarly ludicrously hot] Liam until the end of my days.

Silly though it may be, that pair

So who’s the real draw, then?

Naomi is the queen of this other realm: a terrifically astute, glamorous, Machiavellian maneater who towers above all with her hoity attitude and statuesque frame. Oh, and she’s gorgeous, a real feast for the eyes of

made me feel quite lovely and warm inside - at least until Naomi’s evil sister tore them apart... and that Liam boy has very nice abs.

90210 airs on E4 every Tuesday at 9pm and on youtube.com/4oDdrama.

Bursting the Bubble As yet another panel quiz show graces our screens, Quinton O’Reilly discovers if The Bubble does enough to warrant our fickle attention

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ave I Got News For You has a lot to answer for. Since its birth in 1990, the topical panel show format has become a staple in every television station schedule. While there are certain gems like QI and Mock the Week, others shows like Would I Lie to You?, Channel 4’s 8 out of Ten Cats and RTÉ’s That’s All We’ve Got Time For haven’t fared so well.

Next in line is The Bubble, hosted by David Mitchell of Peep Show fame. Having guest presented Have I Got News For You, the role of presenter perfectly suits Mitchell’s observant style and dry humour, both in terms of moving the show along and interacting with his guests.

The premise is that three celebrity contestants have to distinguish if the news stories they’re shown are real or fake – the catch being that they live in rural isolation for four days before the show,

without any media interaction or communication.

To make things more interesting, the fake clips include professional reporters from ITV and Sky News – but not the BBC, who refused to participate on the grounds that it would undermine their journalistic reputation, a farcical idea considering the fact that in recent years, a number of their reporters have appeared reporting fictional news stories in shows like Doctor Who. But back to the show itself. It’s a clever concept, and the core of the show – broadcasting the overblown and mostly insignificant news reports that news stations commission on a regular basis means that even the most implausible stories on offer could easily be real.

While the concept is the main comic source, an unexpected highlight of the show is the banter between the guests. As the three guests have been in the same house with no communication, the show lends itself to some amusing anecdotes about their time in exile. This adds to its laidback feel, and ends up being funnier than expected because unlike other similarly-styled shows, they’re being themselves instead of forcibly trying to be funny. otwo

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However, these moments tend to be unnecessarily punctuated by clips of their exile, though only one or two are briefly shown, which thankfully doesn’t detract from the show.

If there is a major flaw to the show, it’s that it relies on the same trick over and over again until the concept begins to feel slightly tired. There’s an obvious lack of variety in the show but the core concept, combined with Mitchell’s approach, is strong enough to cover this weakness.

That said, The Bubble shows a lot of promise and if you give it a chance, you’ll find yourself enjoying it much more than you would expect. Is that statement real or fake? You decide.

The Bubble airs on BBC2 every Friday night at 10pm.

20 FILM & TV

Reviews SHUTTER ISLAND Director: Martin Scorcese Starring: Leonardo di Caprio, Mark Ruffalo, Ben Kingsley In cinemas: 12th March The highly-anticipated and much-delayed release of Martin Scorsese’s follow-up of 2006 Oscarwinner The Departed. Scorsese’s work is often described as being a nearly perfect fusion of cinematographic beauty and gripping narrative, citing many to herald him as one of – if not the – greatest filmmaker of his generation.

Understandable, then, that the millions of people who will see this film will – and should – expect cinematic brilliance. Unfortunately, Scorsese doesn’t quite deliver.

The psychological thriller follows U.S. Marshal Teddy Daniels (DiCaprio) and his partner Chuck Aule (Ruffalo) as they investigate the disappearance of a female patient from a facility for the ‘Criminally Insane’ on Shutter Island.

Based on Dennis Lehane’s novel, the film reveals itself not to be the 21st century whodunnit that

ALICE IN WONDERLAND Director: Tim Burton Starring: Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter In cinemas: 5th March Wonders never cease! ,,,Oh. Tim Burton has very few, if any, twists left in him. This film is relatively bereft of the lofty oddities that make Alice’s Wonderland so inviting in the first place.

The thing about Alice in Wonderland is that it needs to be rooted in a vicarious form of

audiences might expect, but instead is by no means light viewing.

Daniels is revealed immediately to be psychologically damaged in his own right, stemming from his experiences during the liberation of a concentration camp and the death of his wife Dolores (Michelle Williams). The cast is exceptional and the story itself is certainly gripping, as is the developing complexity of Daniels, speaking highly of Scorsese’s tremendous ability to extract the most out of his characters and, therefore, his actors.

The potential of the sum of the parts of Shutter Island is sadly underscored, however, by a number of nagging issues. Every now and again – notably in the opening scenes – the audience is treated to a five-minute explanatory dialogue which doesn’t flow, but rather staggers quite unnaturally, frankly smacking of “Oh hai, exposition!”, while being overladen with numerous deus ex machina moments.

Furthermore, the development of the story is festooned with clichés – though this can be forgiven given the strength of the direction,

normality. Burton, however, drags his merry band of usual suspects through the paces, once again repeating themselves as Depp adopts the role of the Mad Hatter (surprise, surprise) and Bonham Carter squeezes into the ample cranial space of the Queen of Hearts.

With this tiresome predictability letting itself seep through the seams of the very screen it plays on, it is hard to take the plot seriously, let alone empathise or sympathise with any of the characters. Their characteristics remind a viewer of a failed pastiche of CG animation and halfhearted personalities, while the backdrop for most of their antics is yet another failed dialectic in the form of The Lord of the Rings meets Sleepy Hollow.

Alice is 19, her father is dead; she is to be married to a ginger haired fuddy-duddy, and otwo

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coupled with the astonishing visual majesty (Scorsese’s use of stairways is especially commendable), as can the relatively predictable story-arc. Regarding the cinematography, much like the remainder of the film, it is let down by comparatively lacklustre editing.

The bellowing score echoes that of There Will Be Blood in its jarring, uncomfortable exclamations that litter the opening scenes and sets you up for an altogether sinister, psychologically fraught experience.

While somewhat flawed in its attempt to balance both the depth of the story with its celluloidal execution, Shutter Island is certainly one of the strongest films of the moment; engaging, emotionally charged and worth multiple viewings, if nothing else but to untangle the weaving narrative.

In the end, sadly, one can’t shake of the feeling that Shutter Island could have been just that little bit better.

In a nutshell: Not among Scorsese’s best work, but one of the strongest films of the year so far.

Breffni O’Sullivan

doesn’t want to be. At a crucial moment she takes off after a rabbit in a waistcoat, falls down the hole where she engages in a pick-and-mix of Carroll’s stories and dialogue, coming to a climax where she is the only one who can save the day.

Thus, we come to another problem. This plot is utterly transparent when set against the original text or many of the other adaptations, simply because Burton has placed the narrative so far out of context. The story is supposed to be about cunning metaphors and scathing political satire, set in a location mirroring the chaos of our own reality while appealing to the more ambitious caverns of our imaginations. Instead, Burton has gone off the wall altogether.

In a Nutshell: A failed contribution to the Oscar filler season.

Jake O’Brien

CHLOE

FILM & TV 21

Directed by: Atom Egoyan Starring:Julianne Moore, Amanda Seyfried, Liam Neeson In cinemas: 19th March A remake of 2003 French thriller Nathalie, Chloe toys with ideas of sexual desire, guilt, suspicion, and the effects of forgotten passion and lost trust.

Julianne Moore leads as Catherine, a gynecologist who shares but a geographical and genetic connection with her son (Max Thieriot) and who is losing faith in her marriage. She chooses to pay ‘call girl’ Chloe to seduce her husband in order to test his loyalty.

Chloe cannot be disposed of with a simple pay-off, however, and so Catherine becomes tangled in a self-created and guilt-ridden web in which she experiments with her own sexual emotions.

Amanda Seyfried, in her performance as Chloe, was all that kept otwo alert until the plot picked up. She is well cast, with her youthful beauty juxtaposed with the character’s raw and exposed way of life.

Liam Neeson plays David, a music professor who is disheartened with his personal life and tries to seek happiness of a sort through aimless flirtation and a strong relationship with his students. Neeson’s character lacks depth, however, coming across as a generic husband caught in a loveless marriage. Nothing new there. Essentially though, Neeson’s position as a footnote in this film is all that is needed.

FILM ENTRANCES Crash! Bang! Wallop! ...What’s that noise? Is it a bird?

Is it a plane? No. It’s just Grace Duffy listing the ten best film entrances of all time...

It is refreshing to see a film that is not only set in Toronto, but actually filmed there as well – the film features some of the famous city spots such as the Allen Garden Conservatories as well as some authentic cafés. Whether this is a real plus for a general audience is debatable, however. Credit is owed to director, Atom Egoyan, in his approach to the numerous sexually driven scenes: he refrains from creating distasteful portrayals of such events, yet allows the emotions and the realness of the acts to be viewed openly.

While Chloe is intriguing – almost poetic, if otwo is feeling generous – there is no great emotion or attachment to the characters, leaving it all a bit hollow.

In a Nutshell: A soft thriller that is at times melodramatic and possesses somewhat of a dream-like quality. Just not all that inspiring.

Niamh Beirne

Keyzer Soze – The Usual Suspects Stunningly enough, everyone who sees this film reacts in the same way as Soze’s identity is revealed – and if they don’t, there’s something wrong with them, obviously. Hmm. Movie cop is thinking. Things start to come together. Something starts to click in your mind too. Then wait for it… Oh. Holy. Jesus. *jaw drop* Best twist ever.

Indiana Jones [Harrison Ford] – Raiders of the Lost Ark This is cheating a bit, as the whip, hat, and adventuring is already in full swing by the time that boulder puts in an appearance, but it sure as hell tops things off nicely.

Jack Sparrow [Johnny Depp] –

The Shark – Jaws After successfully keeping his villain hidden for the entirety of the film – portentous fin aside – Spielberg unleashes the beast at the most unexpected moment, and therein lies its effectiveness. The camera angle gives it away in hindsight, but the first time you see it, the last thing you expect to jump out at Roy Schneider at that particular moment is... that.

Marty McFly [Michael J. Fox] – Back to the Future: Part 1 Let’s turn our amps up loud and ka-blamo! The ego of every rock star – even would-be rock stars – explodes and quite literally takes out the whole room. A fine introduction to the chaotic exploits of Doc Brown and Marty, long before there’s a flux capacitor in sight.

Pirates of the Caribbean Sailing into port triumphantly, dreadlocks blowing in the wind and the ship slowly sinking underneath him, Captain Jack is a legend from the first moment he appears onscreen.

And he saves us from the film’s initial threat to be nothing more than a putrid love story. The epitome of cool and awesome.

Aragorn [Viggo Mortensen] – The Fellowship of the Ring Now this is a lesson in how to make an impression. The man who would be king sparks early intrigue as he sits in a corner, shrouded in shadows, his hood partially obscuring his face, while the embers in his pipe illuminate dark, menacing eyes. Smooth and beautiful… until he takes the hood down.

Sugar Kane [Marilyn Monroe] – Some Like It Hot A lady adept at making a fine entrance,

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Marilyn’s finest hour may just be this sterling monochrome gem. As wouldbe transvestites Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon argue on the platform, the train toots, the camera pans and a jazz wah-wah signals the entrance of bodacious sweetheart Sugar. Look how she moves! “Just like jello on springs,” quips Jack. Quite.

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Mutt Williams [Shia LaBoeuf] – Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull I specialise in liking things that everyone else hates. So in this instance, that means: train station platform.

Hustle. Bustle. Waft of smoke. Vroom.

Steff [James Spader] – Pretty In Pink Three words: You’re a bitch.

Hit Girl [Chloe Grace Moretz] – Kick-Ass This one is tricky, as I’ve only the trailer to go on, but if that is, in fact, her entrance – an eleven year old knocking off a crowd of bad guys then declaring “Alright you c*nts, I’m ready for you” – then it promises to be totally inappropriate and will offend everyone pretty darn interesting. Children swearing heartily really doesn’t bother me – apparently I was a terrible offender by the age of two.

22

FILM & TV

AAnn EExxttr trraa ? n o Diim D im meennssiio ion?

Cinematic curmudgeon Conor Barry isn’t quite convinced that 3D is the holy grail in the struggle to keep film afloat

It may have passed you by but, just so you know, we have entered a new cinematic age: the age of 3D cinema. Well, that’s the plan anyway, as long as we keep paying for it. With an increase in downloading and a drop in cinema-going, Hollywood has decided it needs to come up with a reason for people to actually leave their houses, rather than passively absorb stolen movies through their pirate eyes – and so a lot of the big budget movies are gaining an extra dimension. But is 3D really the final solution to get rid of those pesky pirates?

This isn’t 3D’s first attempt to revolutionise cinema – lest we forget the spectacularly crappy red-and-green-cardboard-glasses brand of 3D, which is slowly being shown the cinematic back door. This technology produced classics such as Jaws 3D, and Shark Boy and Lava Girl (don’t ask me why I picked two shark-related 3D films; there are literally hundreds that hardly even mention sharks) and were quite clearly cash-ins using 3D novelty over interesting stories. This is fair enough – but it’s hard to take any film seriously when it’s being viewed in red and green blobs that are vaguely reminiscent of colour and shapes. There was a sort of charm to it, as if both the creators and the audience knew that it looked a bit terrible, but enjoyed it nonetheless. Eventually, and inevitably, the novelty wore off and everyone got in with their two dimensional lives.

Technology has come on leaps and bounds since then, though,and the cardboard 3D spectacles that you would’ve gotten free with the Beano have been replaced by new fangled glasses that make it look as if you’ve walked into a Blues Brothers convention. This made everything on the screen look more convincing and, well… real. For the first little while the novelty was exciting again. There was Journey to the Centre of the Earth, The Final Destination and the cream of the crop: My Bloody Valentine 3D, containing not only a fantastic amount of gore but, to my knowledge, the only sex scene in a mainstream 3D film (I say mainstream because I’m pretty sure there is 3D pornography. Horses for courses, I suppose). 3D films were back in all their novelty glory with stuff popping out of the screen left, right and centre. And that’s where

“James Cameron and his cronies are singlehandedly destroying what made 3D great in the first place – the fact that nobody took it seriously” it should have stopped. That was fun and everything, guys, but go away now.

But it didn’t go away. Real directors started to take 3D seriously and now we’ve ended up with Avatar. Sure, it looks very pretty but, as everyone knows, the story was complete piddle. Sure, 3D films don’t need a good plot if they can make up for it with simply being fun, but Avatar took itself way too seriously, as if it was changing the entirety of cinema once and for all. Hollywood has jumped on this bandwagon (“Would you like another Oscar nomination, Mr Cameron?”) because otwo

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the 3D ploy legitimises their business strategy.

According to Hollywood, 3D isn’t only for the fun-but-we-know-it’s-terrible films such as The Final Destination; Avatar is apparently proof that you can use 3D for proper films too.

But I don’t think I’m alone when I say that 3D films just look sillier. There’s something slightly farcical about the way the characters look when they’re in 3D, not to mention that the audience are wearing stupid sunglasses throughout. The next Citizen Kane will not be 3D, no matter how much Hollywood would like to think otherwise.

Now on one side, we have major directors like Spielberg and Peter Jackson heralding 3D as some sort of cinematic rebirth, and on the other we have Hollywood milking the cash cow for all it’s worth, rereleasing old films in 3D and forcing new ones to add on 3D as some apparent bonus. James Cameron and his cronies are single-handedly destroying what made 3D great in the first place – the fact that nobody took it seriously. Everybody was in on the joke that these films were stupider but more fun than proper films; you were just supposed watch and have a good time. But Avatar has the audacity to tell me I should feel emotions while watching it, and it’s opened the floodgates for other directors to take it seriously, to think of it as another tool in a serious filmmaker’s cinematic toolbox.

So where does that leave the future of 3D? While it’s come and gone in other decades, this time it might actually stick. Cinemas are refurbishing their screens with fancy new 3D technology – something they wouldn’t do if they weren’t in it for the long haul. It’s probably up to the audiences to see how long it takes before they’re bored of it. Of course, the hope is that eventually we expect 3D of the almost every film in the cinema, while the Hollywood fat cats laugh away on their thrones made of box office incomes. Then will come the inevitable rerelease of Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Cool Runnings and so on. Then 3D films like Jaws 3D will be looked down upon as primitive rather than awesome, and we won’t notice Hollywood slyly stealing our wallets from our back pockets because we can’t see through these stupid glasses.

Thanks, Avatar.

The Real-a

Deal-a

Sean Finnan is impressed by this godfather of Authentic Italian Restaurants

REVIEWS 23

How to make Irish Coffee… properly “Sure you just put a bit of whiskey in coffee, right?” Wrong. Here’s how it’s done, instructs Nicola Lyons

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Stepping into Il Vicoletto on a harsh, cold wintry evening, one could be forgiven for believing that they’ve somehow made their way into a small Italian family household.

The amber glow of the lights and candles that greet those that enter immediately makes you feel right at home. Sketches of Italian life circle the walls of this modest restaurant, while in the background the waiters speak Italian to each other further enhancing the idea that one has just arrived in Italy.

So far all the boxes for a clichéd Italian restaurant are being checked, but what about the food? At first glance the menu does seem expensive. Starters range from €6 to €12, while the mains range from €10 to €24.

The usual Italian pasta dishes appear on the menu, but along with this, the menu does have an impressive seafood selection. As an avid pasta lover, I decided to stay away from it on this occasion and try the speciality Starter and the Fish of the Day. The starter consisted of a selection of Italian meats and cheese with a small rocket salad presented on a circular brown dish. Each meat was carved delicately and ranged from a spicy flavour to a fresh and savoury extract. The creamy and mild Italian cheese complimented the spicy meat

perfectly. This starter certainly was generous, and at one stage I believed I would not be able to make it to the main.

Nevertheless when the main arrived, the aroma of the collection of steamed fish rejuvenated my appetite instantly. The fish was perfectly cooked – tender and soft – and yet still managed to deliver a full-flavoured kick as it hit the tongue. I was a little disappointed with the arrival of my main – it came enclosed in tin foil – but this certainly did not take away from its taste.

I finished my meal with a chocolate cake from the dessert menu which was delightful.

Chocolate cake and cream is always a winner, but the texture of this cake – that when split allowed the warm chocolate to ooze out unto the plate – allows it to take pride of place.

If the expensive menu puts you off, the restaurant offers a theatre set price menu from 5pm to 8:30pm that allows you to have a threecourse meal for the set price of €20.

Il Vicoletto is definitely an authentic Italian restaurant and one that establishes itself away from the other pretenders. Give it a try: you most definitely won’t be disappointed.

Il Vicoletto, 5 Crowe Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2. Tel (01) 670 8633 otwo

t’s undeniable: the Irish willingness to add booze to pretty much anything is worldrenowned (porter cake or Guinness stew, anyone?) – but it’s with the wonderous elixir that is the Irish Coffee that we’ve well and truly struck black gold.

Two years ago, on my very first day of bar work, in typical cliché fashion, I encountered a group of American tourists determined to sample some traditional Irish coffees. In a state of clueless panic, I of course proceeded to serve them nothing but glass after glass of cloudy, sloppy sludge.

Who knew whipped cream was unacceptable, that sugar was vital, or that stirring the coffee was such a massive taboo?

Luckily the tourists were too understanding or bewildered to object to my nasty concoctions, but let’s just say I haven’t been called upon to make one since. Until now, that is. When writing this article presented the opportunity to make a decent attempt at producing the famous beverage, I thought I’d put the horrors of my past behind me and put my barmaid mettle to the test. So, how to take part in this crucial national art form?

Firstly, warm the glass in some hot water. Then add half a cup of ideally strong high quality coffee (though in fairness, if Nescafé is good enough to get rid of my hangovers, it’s good enough to induce them). Just make it a little stronger than you normally would.

To this, add a measure of Irish whiskey. Then stir in a spoon or two of brown sugar until it dissolves. Don’t skip this step, even if you don’t normally put

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sugar in your coffee! The sugar actually helps the cream to float above the coffee. Finally, pour about 20ml of cream over the back of a spoon so that about ½ inch of cream floats on top of the coffee. Be sure to drink the coffee through the cream; do not stir.

Of course, if whiskey’s not your thing, an alternative is the heavenly Bailey’s Coffee, or a Calypso Coffee with Tia Maria. Follow the same steps, but just remember that no sugar is required as liqeuers contain sufficient sugar to keep the cream afloat. Also, for those with stronger stomachs there

are the Mexican (Tequila), Russian (Vodka), French or Royale (Cognac), Jamaican (Rum), Seville (Cointreau) and Caribbean (Bacardi) coffees. The list is endless.

You can also make your Irish coffee look a bit more festive by drizzling Crème de Menthe on top. I haven’t tried this because I’m not an OAP and don’t own any, but it might be worth investing in some for Paddy’s day.

So why not attempt to make the classic beverage that provides in a single glass all four essential food groups: alcohol, sugar, fat and caffeine?

24 UNDERGROUND SOUND

THE MASSES AGAINST THE CLASSES Paul Fennessy talks to the lead singer of Hadouken!, James Smith, about the pitfalls of rock stardom and the virtues of the Sugababes

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hile researching for this interview, otwo came across a curious comment made by Hadouken!’s vocalist James Smith. In response to the question: “What’s the most annoying thing about journalists?” the singer replied: “Their two-facedness.” otwo like to make it clear that despite my amiable tone during the interview (in case the recording should ever be podcast), this writer absolutely loathe James Smith. But if he ever asks, tell him otwo says he’s lovely, okay?

Fresh from forgetting to turn his phone on and thus making all journalists wait for two hours, Smith is in no mood to dwell on anything – or give a response comprising of more than two sentences for that matter. And never one to leave a cliché unturned, Smith asserts that their new album (For The Masses) “is our strongest”, explaining how the band have “progressed as

songwriters”.

Although For The Masses has so far failed to better the 100,000 copies shifted by its predecessor, Music for an Accelerated Culture, Smith rejects the idea that his band was tempting fate by giving the album such a prophetic title. “I didn’t really intend the title to mean for the commercial masses,” he says. “It’s more about playing to a large crowd. And it’s also a bit tongue in cheek as well.”

In addition to the tribulations which a new album entails, the band was also told by their label to remix the Sugababes’ single ‘Get Sexy’ – pragmatically, they complied.

“We’ve always had a lot of respect for the Sugababes,” Smith explains.

“We aren’t necessarily big fans in terms of listening to the music, but we respect their success. We got asked to do it by the label and we felt like it was a good enough song and that we could add our own stuff to it, so we did.”

Smith revisits the theme of record

label politics when asked to identify the most surprising aspect of a rock star lifestyle. “I think it’s quite interesting that there’s a certain amount of stress,” he reveals. “You’re always thinking about your next move and your next tour, and there’s a lot of pressure from fans and record labels.” otwo is becoming bored by Smith’s moany pony replies, yet is heartened by his answer to the Desert Island Disc question. His response – “probably the Radiohead

album Hail to the Thief” – is an extremely welcome one. After years of being bullied by bigger, older publications like The Ticket who say that Kid A is “mostly unlistenable” and who routinely describe HTTT as Radiohead’s weakest album, otwo feels vindicated to have finally found a like-minded soul who can appreciate this underrated epic.

Maybe Smith really is lovely after all.

Hadouken! play the Button Factory on March 12th.

PADDY WHACKERY

A

t the ripe old age of twenty-two, Dublin singer-songwriter Paddy Hunt has already set his sights on the Rock ‘n’ Roll hall of fame. “My favourite bands are the big bands like U2 and Bruce Springsteen. I have similar goals to them, to achieve great success.”

This one-man band is looking for some compadres. Deirdre Flannery asks: any takers?

Quick to dismiss the idea of jumping on any musical bandwagon, Paddy emphasises that he won’t be trying to fit into the next NME-coined indie subgenre anytime soon. It is straight-up songwriting that appeals to him, rather than transient trends.

“I don’t think record labels are looking for a trend, if your songs are good, they’re good no matter what sort of style they are. Being influenced by classic bands is a good thing because their music is still played thirty years later.”

By name, and by nature, Paddy is indeed on the hunt for a backing group. The multi-talented musician is currently a one-man band, with the aid of an eight track and a Macbook. “I am pretty motivated. I play all my own instruments, and do the production. It’s kind of hard to do everything yourself, but it’s what you’ve got to do when you don’t have a band.”

Paddy reveals that he is itching to get back on the road with his music, but his current status as a solo otwo

02.03.10

act renders touring impossible. However, eager as he is for musicians to jam with, he is not quite so keen to part with his artistic independence. “I’m looking for a session band, they could have some input but it’s going to be my name on the album. I like to be in control of the music.”

Although reluctant to fit into the current fads in music, Paddy is not opposed to using modern methods of promotion. “Arctic Monkeys gave out their music for free at their gigs, I think that’s a good idea.

You can’t expect things to take off by someone just stumbling across your MySpace page.”

Having graduated from UCD last summer, Paddy finds himself in a position that resonates with most of us final years. “I don’t really want anything to do with sociology, I probably should be applying for college courses at the moment, but I don’t seem to be doing that!”

His apparent lack of academic motivation is more than compensated for by the degree of determination Hunt displays towards his musical career. Remember that name, kids: Paddy Hunt is on his way.

Listen to Paddy Hunt’s music at www.myspace.com/paddyhunt

UNDERGROUND SOUND 25

The Carnival Comes to Town

O

n the verge of their first European tour, Erland, lead vocalist and guitarist of Erland and the Carnival, maintains that the new folk rock band still have far to go. “It’s not a massive tour! We’ve just done a wee week this week.”

However, the trio – made up of Erland Cooper, ex-Verve and Blur guitarist Simon Tong and drummer David Nock – don’t conceal their excitement about their Irish dates in Dublin and Cork this month. Erland tells otwo enthusiastically that despite the fact the “Irish Times don’t like us… it’s going to be fantastic!”

Nevertheless these boys aren’t easily wounded.

It’s clear from frontman Erland’s oblivious reaction to being told of the band’s fine appraisal by Uncut that reviews aren’t a big issue for them. Erland maintains that what is important to them is that “people seem to get it” and that this is more essential than general chart-topping success. “I think we get a kind of a strong reaction either way; you either like and get it, or you just don’t get it and don’t like it, and I prefer to provoke a reaction I think – it’s a bit more fun.”

The band’s nonchalant attitude towards their craft is fitting, considering they would not sound out of place amongst 60’s San Fran psych-rock bands such as Jefferson Airplane and The Doors. “There’s bits of that,” muses Erland, “people are up for a bit of psychedelia at times.” However, it’s made clear that the group are a folk band at their core and “have a great admiration for the full tradition.” Erland, due to his own Scottish roots, Simon being from England and David hailing from Wales, says “a lot of the songs span the country.”

Though accused once of bastardising folk songs, Erland dismisses this as individual interpretation stemming from the fact that Erland and the Carnival don’t sound like generic folk groups. “[We] started with a kind of a slightly more acoustic approach and it kind of turned into something a bit darker and bigger… one of the things we didn’t want to do was make a twee record.”

When asked was his interest in the folk genre lifelong, Erland reminisces that

Michael Phoenix checks out Two Door Cinema Club and The Maccabees at the NME Tour

“W

e all thought it might have been shit tonight after the big gig last night. But it just ended up really, really good...” slurs Maccabees guitarist Hugo White following an electric night at Dublin’s Academy.

Everyone looks the same at these kinds of gigs - checked shirts and

elaborate smirks fill the venue for this indie pilgrimage. Its Bangorbased up-and-comers Two Door Cinema Club who really kick things off; it’s all quick catches and neon lights as ‘I Can Talk’ sounds through the speakers, gliding between the crowd sounding just like the studio recording. Maybe that’s a problem: everyone looks bored and upset over the dangerously overpriced pints as they tentatively nod their heads and try to look cool. It seems as though something’s missing – the killer blow, the power chord. Even on the winner ‘Cigarettes In The Theatre’, you get the sense something’s being held back. However, as they exit you can’t help feeling there’s potential in these lads.

It seems harsh, but from the moment the Maccabees step from otwo

he “would listen to what was on the radio” and that though he “was exposed to folk music, [I] didn’t adopt it or really like it much, you rebel against that kind of thing when you’re a kid.”

Though today Erland has “realised that actually [folk] music is fantastic” and that it is an “admiration of various sources; folk music is our heritage, all modern music kind of comes from that.” He upholds that “it doesn’t have to be pigeon-holed into one kind of distinct sound, I think it makes something new.”

Erland and the Carnival’s self-titled debut album is out now. the spotlights, you can feel the excitement building. It’s a quick pint before the battle begins to grab the best vantage point as the roadies, who always seem to fit their stereotypical bill, look on. You push your way to the barrier and need the toilet badly but hold it for fear of being left behind in the push of the all-important first song. ‘William Powers’, pacey and powerful, precedes a cry of “Good evening!” and we know we’re in for a night to remember as the band burst into ‘Dinosaurs’.

Things around you start to get sweaty and it seems like there’s one too many guitars, but as ‘Precious Time’ is laid upon us you just don’t care. ‘Young Lions’ is a delightful surprise and you’re sure people are starting to shed their clothes to the 02.03.10

beat of the album-crowning ‘Can You Give It’. Next up is ‘Toothpaste Kisses’ and the couples come out from their corners whilst the rest of us sway and laugh at the band’s failed attempts at a united whistle.

By the time ‘First Love’ and ‘No Kind Words’ have been played, the crowd seems to have entered some sort of trance from which only the pause before the encore can save them. The break’s short and the same could be said for the gig in its entirety if one criticism need be found. The fantastic ‘Love You Better’ compounds this: it’s the kind of song that leaves you gasping for breath, and your face painted with an unexplainably delirious grin.

On the basis of this performance, anything could be next for The Maccabees.

26

WEB

with sophie lioe

W

hat better way to cure one’s unbearable boredom during a lecture, or to occupy valuable procrastination time, than to find, join (and then never look at again), the seemingly unending ream of Facebook groups there are out there. A new one seems to be created every five minutes, and we should all be thankful for the gaps they fill in our lives; brightening up our News Feeds every day.

There’s one for every occasion, whatever your mood. The hardest part, which I discovered while researching this article, is choosing your favourite! But here goes…

“If you Kanye West me I’m going to Chris Brown you and Tiger Woods your mom” - the kind that probably won’t be relevant in a few months time, but pretty hilarious right now (http:// short.ie/uo101) “When I was a kid, I used to pretend I was ill just to get Calpol...” - for when we get

reminiscent for those sickies we pulled to skip a hard day of adding numbers and playing chasies in the school playground. Remember always wanting the under-six kind, no matter what age we were? (http://short.ie/uo102) “Realising how drunk you are when alone in the toilet” - the type which makes us all exclaim, oh my god! I thought that was just me! (Well, that’s what happened to me anyway… http://short.ie/ uo103) “Sorry mate, I can’t, I’ve got Quidditch” - the tribute to Harry Potter that every new fad needs.

Of the many that are out there, this got the biggest thumbs-up. (http:// short.ie/uo104) “I can only get up when my Alarm Clock shows a multiple of 5” - Fact. No exceptions. I have yet to find a person that this doesn’t apply to. (http://short.ie/uo105) So, no matter how annoying you find them – whether they clog up your home page, or you come across the (very) odd one that

doesn’t apply to you – their brilliance cannot be denied.

However, are you brave enough to make one yourself?

You never know, maybe you could make it into the next Top 5? Or maybe the fear of rejection and epic failure is enough to stop you?

It’s now nigh on impossible to imagine life without Facebook, right? Signing in automatically when you are near any kind of PC/ iPod/laptop, being introduced to people only to realize you’ve already stalked them on Facebook, to wondering how Bebo is getting along. Funnily enough, all these ponderings are, in fact, Facebook groups in themselves.

Will it ever end?

Send your links to webwatch@ universityobserver.ie or share them with us on Twitter at http:// twitter.com/otwo.

Websight: Top 5 Blogs They’re everywhere! There is no escape! Luckily Emer Sugrue can recommend the best five of the blogosphere

I

t’s difficult to define what makes a blog great, but for me the main criterion is how much time can be wasted reading it. If you start off intending a quick glance, and before you know it you’re four hours into an archive binge and none of your homework is done, you’re onto a winner.

Photoshop Disasters (http:// short.ie/websight1) catalogues the most ridiculous image editing mistakes around, with every entry having been published in magazines, billboards and posters. Most of the pictures look like they were made by someone who had never seen a computer before, and some as

though they’ve never seen a human before.

There are missing arms, extra legs, people posing together who have clearly never met in their lives, and countless bizarre enhancements.

I know Photoshop can be a bit tricky at times, but I’m certain I could design a better poster pressing the keyboard with my face.

Have you ever eaten a sandwich and thought, “wouldn’t this be better if the bread was replaced with donuts, the ham with bacon, and the mustard with caramel?” No? Well, unfortunately some people have and they took pictures. A look around This Is otwo

Why You’re Fat (http://short.ie/ websight2) – “where dreams become heart attacks” – is guaranteed to leave you equal parts hungry and nauseous. Many animals were harmed in the making of this site; I hope you like bacon.

Superpowers are a common fantasy among bored people but generally the focus is on abilities such as strength, speed or flight. Powers that could be used to help your fellow man. SuperUseless (http://short.ie/ websight3) focuses on the overlooked super useless powers such as ‘Omnipresent Disorientation: the power to be everywhere, but never know where you are’ and ‘TeleKinnearsis: the ability to levitate... actor Greg Kinnear’. This site makes you thankful for normality.

02.03.10

CheapEats (http://short.ie/ websight4) is a blog about eating well in Ireland while getting value for money. The blog is largely Dublin-based, and will keep you up to date on the best (affordable) restaurants and warn you of the latest dodgy 5-for-€x offers in Tesco, not to mention yummy recipes and general updates on eating in Ireland.

Essential reading for thrifty students.

Finally, 1000 Awesome Things (http://short.ie/websight5) is a sweet and often moving blog of the little things that make life worthwhile.

You’ll relate to almost everything on the list, and every new entry will bring a nostalgic grin to your face.

My personal favourites are #813 (Museum gift shops), #743 (Taking your high heels off at the end of the night and walking home in bare feet) and #578 (Correctly guessing the actor voicing the animated movie character). It’s updated every weekday and gives a great boost to the morning.

MUSIC 27

HUMANZI

SUGABABES

THE DIRTY 9S

Album: Kingdom of Ghosts Rating: D

Album: Sweet 7 Rating: C-

Album: Stop Screaming Start Dreaming Rating: C

Prostituting dance anthem after anthem, this gross display of autotune and distorted synths is so consistent it’s boring. The lyrics are deviously constructed to exploit teenage girls gearing up for a night of waving their hands on the dance floor and falling home with their seven inch heels in their hands (Sample lyric: “Her make-up’s running/Her heels are broke/But that won’t stop her/ Watch her get messed up some m-mmore”).

The album holds a consistent club beat throughout – almost a sell-out to ensure it gets exposure. It’s not a great or fantastic album, but at least it’s consistently ‘okay’. if you’re 17.

In a nutshell: For the pre-drinkers in Belgrove.

Rita Jacob

The Dirty 9s, of TG4’s Deis Rock, offer short snappy pop with this album. At first, Stop Screaming Start Dreaming blurs together in one bland unattractive mix. Nothing stands out except the familiar combo of guitar, drums, vox and a touch of synth.

“Turn that off. It sounds awful,” chimed my roommate. Wise words: none of Humanzi appear to be able to sing. Neither, supposedly, could Bob Dylan, but this isn’t Dylan (note absolutely ridiculous lyrics, such as “I still feel your can [ass]”) - the words can’t save the sound. Weak by rock standards to the point of embarrassment, you have to wonder who gave the go ahead for all of this metal melodrama in the first place.

Highlights include interesting artwork; seven seconds of drums introducing the album on opener ‘Hammer’; and the cleverly named track ‘Amsterdamaged’. A far cry from their Meteor award winning days.

In A Nutshell: Bad. Just bad.

Michael Phoenix

On further listens, however, songs such as ‘Corridors’ and ‘Echoes’ begin to emerge. This album is a grower; eventually the chorus of songs like ‘Trouble’ become so hooky that one needs

to get another rush of this poppy treat.

Without ‘Lucy Opus’ however, the beauty of the above songs would be diminished to a decent effort by any pub band. The strength of ‘Lucy Opus’ overcomes this though, rendering the album a great pop hit.

Stop Screaming Start Dreaming is a promising sign for The Dirty 9s but hits the high notes a little too infrequently to be considered great.

In a nutshell: Thirty minutes of pop with ten minutes of relevance.

Sean Finnan

Reviews

VYVIENNE LONG Album: Caterpillar Sarabande Rating: C+ From the eye of Damien Rice springs the debut album from cellist Vyvienne Long.

Caterpillar Sarabande

sounds like Bjork in a good mood: all delicate stories over pace and strings, no more so than in the memorable ‘They’re Not Waving’.

You think three cellos should be too much, but it works. The tracks seem to weave together and speed round you; it’s hard to stop your leg from

moving along with ‘Bad Move’ and ‘Treacherous’.

Slowing down near the album’s close, particularly on ‘To The End’, you’re not sure if the pace is for the best: it’s like recovering your breath, your head’s not exactly clear.

Caterpillar Sarabande delights,

disappoints, and confuses – as epitomised in the closing ‘Happy Thoughts’. Don’t listen to it for a sample of Vivienne’s music, but rather for the feeling it will leave behind.

In a Nutshell: Odd. Michael Phoenix

Album of the Fortnight FIONN REGAN Album: The Shadow of an Empire Rating: A It’s hard to believe this is only Fionn Regan’s second album; it feels like he’s been around forever – and an artist displaying so much musical maturity and polish early in their career is rare.

OK, so Regan blatantly rips off everything about Bob Dylan, from his vocal style and accent to mouth-organ solos and jangly guitar – but is that a bad thing? Rollicking country, blues and folk meld perfectly in the opening track ‘Protection Racket’, while ‘Violent Demeanour’ is a dark, brooding acoustic ballad with a

heartbreakingly bittersweet chorus.

Regan also shines lyrically – unlike most singer-songwriters, he’s not just a guy with a guitar and love-life issues. He sings about everything from childhood nostalgia to the plight of the homeless. Is this the Irish answer to Sufjan Stevens? Maybe, or maybe not, but it’s not often we denizens of the Noughties are treated to such a homegrown modern classic.

In A Nutshell: Highway 61 revisited for the M50 generation.

Alison Lee otwo

02.03.10

28

Aries (March 21 – April 20) Natalie Cassidy will outshine you in Heat this month…

Put the cake down. (No, you can’t put it in a bag ‘for later’.)

ENCORE

The Arts Block Cat who puts out for a Whiskas pouch

Sagittarius (November 23 – December 22) Everyone knows of your Nickelback fixation. Everyone

Leo (July 24 – August 23) Yeah, so how about that reduced price STI testing that the SU is advertising? Hint.

laughs. Ha. Ha.

Virgo (August 24 – September 23) Oi, the Tesco Value bag of carrots is for oral use only. The student nurses know who you are.

Taurus (April 21 – May 21) Don’t laugh at Natalie Cassidy.

You’re the “double bagger” of Computer Science. I know all about you.

Capricorn (December 23 – January 23) Mittens wants to see you in the men’s bathrooms of the Arts Block at 5pm today. Arrive early to avoid delay.

Libra (September 24 – October 23) It’s bad. The crystal ball is looking very bad. I simply cannot tell you. Put it this way, you might be in a Road Safety Awareness ad in the near future. Sorry.

Gemini (May 22 – June 21) Your soulmate works in the Student Photocopying Centre. The good news is you get to pick which one. Choose wisely.

Aquarius (January 21 – February 19) “Simply... 100% complete and balanced, with no artificial flavourings and preservatives.

Scorpio (October 24 – November 22) To the couple in Merville getting breakfast rolls this morning. Why? Is she the one from Computer Science? I knew it! I can sense these things.

Cancer (June 22 – July 23) You don’t have a soul mate. Give up now.

Pisces

(February 19 – March 20) “Sure the same thing happened to Sheila from Ag in Coppers last Thursday.” Sheila, you are from Claremorris, you are not Samantha Jones.

[Gig of the Fortnight: Two Door Cinema] The Button Factory – Saturday 6th March – €13

The hottest Irish trio in the musical world bring their brand of electo-indie pop to the Button Factory on Saturday before they set out on their tour of America in May. Taking inspiration from early Bloc Party and Death Cab for Cutie, Two Door Cinema Club have just released their debut album Tourist

TUESDAY 2 March nd

Brendan Benson - Vicar Street €17 Gerry O’Connor - Whelans - €tbc

9th March

History.

Signed to the French electronic record label Kitsune – home to Hadouken! and Wolfmother – the band’s second single ‘I Can Talk’ has been inescapable since its release in November.

They’ve been hyped from all spheres,

WEDNESDAY

THURSDAY

3 March

4 March

rd

Choice Music Prize for Irish album of the Year - Vicar Street - €27 Elvis Presley in Concert - The O2 €40/65.70

10th March

Dave Mathews Band - The O2 €54.80/65.70

Lynyrd Skynyd - The O2 €49.20/€54.80

Samuel Barber: Echoes of Ireland - National Concert Hall €25/35

Local Natives Academy 2 - €13.50

th

from the NME to none other than Mr Kanye West, but don’t take their word for it – check out the guys on Saturday before they inevitably move from the less intimate surroundings of the Button Factory.

Tickets available from Ticketmaster.

Seán Finnan

FRIDAY 5 March th

SATURDAY 6 March th

Jason Byrne Vicar Street - €28

Field Music Crawdaddy - €12

Neil Delamare Vicar Street - €28

UCD Symphony Orchestra National Concert Hall - €12/18

Alice in Wonderland - Cinemas Nationwide

Ocean Colour Scene - Olympia Theatre - €30/€35

Ian Coppinger - The Laughter Lounge Comedy Club - €28 11th March

Crystal Gale - The Helix - €42.50 Fairport Convention Whelans - €22.00 Father Ted Weekend - The Laughter Lounge Comedy Club - €28

12th March

13th March

Green Zone - Cinemas Nationwide

New Young Pony Club - Tripod €20

Hadouken! - The Button Factory €20:00

Fionn Regan Vicar Street - €21

Panda Bear Vicar Street - €24 otwo

02.03.10

Passion Pit Olympia Theatre - €21

SUNDAY 7 March th

Romeo & Juliet - Gaiety Theatre €25-120 Joey Cape, Tony Sly & Jon Snodgrass Twisted Pepper - €tbc

14th March

Power of Dreams Whelans - €20 Ellie Goulding - The Academy €17.45

MONDAY 8 March th

Stones In His Pockets Olympia Theatre €20/25

15th March

Ella Fitzgerald meets Gershwin, Scott Joplin & Fats Waller Gaiety Theatre - €20