The University Times Magazine, Issue 2 by The University Times

18.10.11

The University Times

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The University Times Magazine

FEATURES. 5

VIVA SHEBEEN DESPITE A HIGH COURT ORDER AND THE THREAT OF BEING HELD IN CON-

TEMPT OF COURT, THE STAFF OF SHEBEEN CHIC ARE REFUSING TO CLOSE DOWN BUSINESS. LUKE O’CONNELL FOUND OUT WHY

BRUSSELS: CITY OF THE ETERNAL INTERN TOMMY GAVIN DESCRIBES HIS TRIP TO BRUSSELS AND THE EUROPEAN PARLIAMENT WHERE HE DISCOVERS WHAT THE LIFE OF AN INTERN ENTAILS IN THE CITY OF EUROCRATIC BUREAUCRACY.

WE’RE ALL SLUTS NOW RACHEL LAVIN ATTENDS IRELAND’S FIRST SLUTWALK AND FINDS A WAR OF WORDS.

HARD WORKING CLASS HEROES DAVID DOYLE EVALUATES THE RECENT INDEPENDENT MUSIC FESTIVAL

REGULATION. 4

THERE IS A CAVE...

CULTURE. 15

THE BURRITO BAR We assess which Burrito is best in Dublin. This week: Boojum.

IN FOCUS

A photo by Ana Lezcano Cadwallader.

MUSIC

Eoin Hennessey investigates Dublin Record Stores, Shauna Watson remembers Mic Christopher, & Reviews

BOOKS

Alicia Byrne Keane reviews what we think won the Man Booker Prize

[SIGH] Occupy Wall Street has spread to Dame Street. Has Luke O’Connell been swayed?

CSC

Katie Abrahams takes a look at the activities of college societies over the year.

90’s FOOTBALLERS

David Geoghegan reminisces about some of the most memorable footballers of his youth

A new student bar is hidden in Frenchman’s lane. According to Jack Leahy, its pretty good.

FILM Darragh Haugh reviews the best film of the year

FASHION Katherine Reidy expounds on the virtues of colouring your eyes turquoise.

EDITORIAL. I’m sorry, we’ve let you down. The Ligature (custom font amendment) for issue one of The University Times magazine was completely wrong. As you’ll notice on the cover of this issue, the T in the is supposed to run into the H in “The University Times,” but alas, it did not. We feel dirty and ashamed at such a glaring oversight, and can only hope you have it in your hearts to give us another chance. A lot has happened since the first issue, and we’ve tried to cram as much as we could of It into twenty pages for your perusal. The cover, if you were wondering, is a picture of the European Parliament in Brussels, also known as the city of the eternal intern. I was fortunate enough to be able to poke around inside and look at the roles of the intern and assistant. One of the assistants I was talking to is the only other Griffin in the European Parliament apart from Trinity celeb Nick Griffin, and he sometimes gets Nick’s mail. He once got a postcard from a half British half Indian man who wanted to know if he’d be allowed back into the country if he went on holiday. We also investigated the trendy Shebeen Chic on Georges street; its currently engaged in a battle of defiance against the landlords that want them gone, so we went down to talk to the manager about why she refuses to leave, to the extent that she and the staff intend to keep the bar open despite a court order, and are even sleeping and showering on premises so they can’t get locked out. Moreover, we investigated the first Irish slutwalk, the Hardworking Class Heroes festival, the #occupydamestreet camp and Dublin’s newest independent record store, located in the Twisted Pepper. We hope these meager offerings are enough to allow you to overlook last issue’s error. However, should you notice any mistakes in this issue, Send us a postcard with the error in question along with your name, number, email address and pin code to the University Times Office, House 6, Front Square, Trinity College Dublin 2, and we’ll give you a mystery prize. If it turns out not to have been an error though, you have to give us a mystery prize. That’s how this works.

@UTzine

CONTRIBUTORS Editor: Tommy Gavin Deputy Editor: Luke O’Connell Creative Director: Dargan Crowley-Long

Culture Editor: David Doyle Photographers: Rachel Lavin,

Luke O’Connell, Brian Moyne, Ronan Costello, Ana Cadweller. Illustrator: Sadhbh Byrne Contributors: Rachel Lavin, Darragh Haugh, Katherine Reidy, Katie Abrahams, Shauna Watson, Eoin Hennessy, David Geoghegan, Alicia Byrne Keane, Jamie Wright, Jack Leahy

LOITERING WITH INTENT... THERE IS A CAVE, A CAVE OF WONDERS.

By Jack Leahy

t’s the age-old student night out problem: you want to pre-drink at the Pav, but your UCD friends want to stay in the Student Bar. A scuffle ensues and you all end up in the Pav, but not everyone’s happy about it. A very specific form of sectarianism has intervened to sour the atmosphere and, accordingly, the entire evening. But fear not! There is a solution. Sitting peacefully on Frenchman’s Lane - 15 minutes from Front Arch, near Busáras - an ambitious project known as The Cave has arrived to provide an alternative, neutral pre-drinking venue for students across Dublin. It’s actually quite a difficult place to describe; it’s like a club, but much more relaxed. In what is a fairly small venue, they somehow manage to seamlessly accommodate room to eat and drink, space to sit and talk, and even an area for quiet reflection if that’s what you’re into. Few have taken up the third option, but it’s certainly a workable idea. My friend and I attended on the opening night, which was very poorly advertised; only one non-invasive Facebook event was created and there are no irritating friend requests from reps and mails about drink deals. Nonetheless, we found The Cave sufficiently attended that the owners may consider the night a success. Having been welcomed by the manager, a group of students at a nearby table invite us to play Jenga. At first the proposition comes across as absurd, but it is quickly communicated to us that this is the kind of place where ‘pretty much anything sound goes’, as long as you’re enjoying yourself. The Cave’s student-friendly

nature is propounded in both its advertisements and its prices. Three Jaegerbombs for €9 is better than club prices, but that’s not where the magic lies: a delicious hand-made burger, plenty of fries, and a pint for €8. Fantastic. I canhonestly say I’ve never had a better burger in my life. Much like the absence of vague threats and knee-length skirts, you certainly wouldn’t get that in Howl at the Moon. So why is this place so cool? For one thing, it’s run by students. Brian, the guy in charge of running the place, is a regular student like the rest of us, balancing The Cave with training for rugby and studying. It’s becoming increasingly rare to see fulltime students involved in running student nights, the result of which is that we rarely get what we really want from our many nocturnal urban excursions. Brian understands what students want from a nights out, and his product facilitates those of us who want to have a chat and a quiet one while providing for our friends who want to dance to Stromae and the Smiths. The lack of advertising may mean a few empty nights for the next few weeks, and while it’s absolutely worth it, the location will struggle to attract students from Trinity and UCD. It has a lot going for it though and between the friendly staff & clientèle, student-orientated pricing and one hell of a good vibe, The Cave

oojum has become the unofficial favourite of Trinity students since the recent Dublin Burrito boom, and with the Ents card deal, there is no indication that this will change. Having opened in 2007, it is owned and run by a husband and wife team and despite having branches in Belfast, it is not a franchise. Tucked away in the Italian Quarter on Millennium Walkway, but usually busy, the welcoming and attractive staff are known to offer advice and even give tastings of the different salsas to uncertain customers. Their taste in music isn’t too bad either. You may have to end up sharing a table with other customers, but this is all in keeping with Boojum’s ‘burrito bar’ image and it doesn’t negatively affect the experience in any way. When the weather permits, they set up outdoorseating, and Boojum is the best place to sit back and take in the seemingly out of place part of Dublin. It boasts fresh ingredients of a generally high standard and they makea point of using herbs and vegetables central to mexican cuisine like huss avocados for the guacamole, which is nice to see. The meat quality stands out though, and Boojum has the best steak pieces going. Even beyond that, Boojum’s vegetarian burrito is at least as good as any of their carnivore options. Unlike many other burrito establishments, including the last issue’s subject, Boojum also has different salsas including corn, tomato and verde, as opposed to hot, hotter and hottest. None of them are incredibly spicy, but Boojum also boasts the greatest diversity of table salsas, and they frequently change them up. Despite all this though, the overall Boojum burrito is disappointing compared to its competitors. The specialist ingredients are drowned in overbearing wateriness, which dilute the mostly great ingredients into soggy blandness. The wrapping itself can also be substandard, coming out as a formless lump, with the occasional rip. That is not to say they are necessarily bad, but with the level the burrito game is at in Dublin at the moment, you expect better. In terms of value, especially for the Trinity student, Boojum cannot be faulted. 4 euro burritos with the ents card is by far the best deal going, and 6 euro with a drink for students in general is also pretty good. SERVICE/ATMOSPHERE – 5/5 INGREDIENTS – 4/5 FLAVOUR – 2.5/5 STRUCTURE – 3/5 VALUE – 5/5 TOTAL: 19.5/25

Feature

COME ON SHEBEEN Luke O’Connell visits Shebeen Chic on during its ongoing battle with the man eviction.

taff at shebeens are traditionally no strangers to lock-ins after hours, but Shebeen Chic on George’s St has taken things to another level. Having been served with an eviction notice and court order to bloody well get out, the manager and employees have been holed up in the bar since last week, mattresses and all. A bitter dispute over rent and its payment between owner Jay Bourke and landlords John Kenneally and Mick McAuliffe of Cessona Ltd. has led to a bizarre stand-off with both sides refusing to back down. The guts of the squabble is that relations broke down between the two, mostly over late rent payments in the past, and now the landlords have decided they want the tenants out. Shebeen Chic claims this argument is not worth a shite, as they are trading just fine now and they have recently been good tenants. Why kick them out, they ask, when it would take months to find new worthy tenants, not to mention a new licence, and the bar is doing a roaring trade as others in the vicinity struggle to sell a pint. Furthermore, the landlords

have reneged on their original offer to give them six months to move out (which the bar says would be doable, if necessary) and are now insisting on a mere two weeks, obviously an impossible task for any bar without jobs being lost and hipsters having nowhere to go for a mojito. I marched into the bar, then, to speak to the manager, Orlagh Murphy. She is a handsome woman, elegant, with long flowing red hair. She could have played Gráinne O’Malley if a biopic were to made, but no doubt she was too caught up in this terrible mess to have time for gathering IFTAs. In the bar, as I waited to talk to her in private, she seemed stressed as she juggled phone calls and numerous people Georges Street walking in and out to talk about situation. I hoped I could offer and impending her some relief, as a younger man with a fraught history of landlord/tenant relationships. She took me downstairs, where the mattresses were kept, but we sat on stools. Four days had passed since they were told to get out, and Murphy’s resolve seemed unwavering. All 21 of her staff were firmly behind her, she said, and each had a veto in terms of any decision being made. She said she would be taken out in handcuffs if it came down to it (which would be for contempt of court), and I believed her. The bar is still trading and its loyal clientele have even been joining the staff in the slumber parties. Politicians such as Joe Higgins and Richard Boyd Barrett have lobbied on their behalf. At this stage the landlords look like curmudgeonly meanies who are refusing to lose face. Maybe “the swell of public opinion”, as the phrase goes, will eventually encourage them to back down, but undeniably the law is on their side. Murphy says the gardaí tend to be reluctant to get involved in this kind of issue, but of course once the court order is enforced it will be last orders at the bar, which could be any day now.

Cover Story

BRUSSELS CITY OF THE ETERNAL INTERN by Tommy Gavin

russels is a city divided; on one side you have the Belgian Brussels where life goes on as it does in any major city, but on the other side you have the European Brussels, inhabited by eurocrats, bureaucrats and thousands of interns. This is the Brussels I came to see. Having failed to secure the parliamentary internship I applied for at the beginning of summer, I along with 30 other runners up were invited to visit the European Parliament and witness the grand European project first hand. There for a day and a half, the tour of the European Parliament lasted at most 5 hours, and we went straight to it from the airport, having departed Dublin at 6am. We were delayed getting into the parliament, as security was on full alert in light of ongoing protests, and demonstrators were setting fire to piles of rubbish across the city’s busiest streets. There had been several protests in the recent weeks and Nessa Childers, MEP for Ireland East through whom we came to be there, disclosed that she had inadvertently been tear gassed on the way to work the week previous. It all seemed very tense and dramatic at the time, but it later turned out that the protesters were Belgian bin men who had staged an impromptu strike against cuts on an entirely local level, and it just happened to be a coincidence that it was in the capital of European political affairs, as was the case with the earlier protests. The irony that the model of European integration was based out of a country that isn’t even really integrated in itself wasn’t lost on us, and we eventually got inside. The tour itself was nothing special, there were a couple of brief talks about what how the EU functions, and what committees and

projects Nessa is involved in. I did get to the Mickey Mouse bar in the parliament, named sarcastically after Margret Thatcher’s remark that it is “a mickey mouse parliament.” For me though, the best part of the tour was the spindly security guard with a side fringe and a pencil moustache, whose security tag read TECHNO in Helvetica. It emerged that all the tags have TECHNO on their back, but he looked like he belonged in Dancecentrum in Struttgart spinning kraftwerk remixes, not looking after the security of a supranational institution. But then, European Brussels belies the expectation of the drab and boring eurocrat. The best example of this is what happens on Thursday nights on Place du Luxembourg, right outside the entrance to the European Parliament. At the end of the long work day, interns and assistants will gather at the grassy square surrounding a monument of to the 19th century British-Belgian industrialist John Cockerill, and chill with a few cans, again, in full view of the European Parliament. The strongest condemnation or reaction to this from the Belgian or EU authorities is rather timid “please keep Brussels clean” postering campaign. One Irish parliamentary assistant explained to me that the way the work week is set up in the Parliament is that Monday to Thursday is incredibly busy while Friday is slower, so “when you come out and the sun is coming down, you see around thirty of forty people you know and there is good music coming from the bars, it can be one of the nicest aspects of the job. If you’re in Trinity, it’s like going to the Pav.” Obviously the continental attitudes towards drinking culture are much different than ours, and they’re more laid back and moderate in the way they drink, but it still seems surprisingly relaxed, and grown up in a way you don’t often see here. It could even be argued that the interns and assistants should be

Cover Story allowed the leeway given the amount of work they put in. I was told that “if you scratch any surface in Brussels, you’ll find 100 interns” and that it can be hard to tell who you’re communicating with via email, because you’re as likely if not more so to be talking to an intern as the actual person you’re trying to get through to. Traditionally the intern would just make copies and coffee, but that has changed in the last ten years or so, and especially now. Since so many interns are fully educated and qualified, they find themselves with more responsibilities; they can find themselves doing research, writing He looked like he belonged in speeches for MEPs, organizDancecentrum in Struttgart ing and attendspinning kraftwerk remixes, not ing meetings, and helping looking after the security of a MEPs organize supranational institution. events. Understandably then, this is a game for the young. “You could only do the job if you liked it” said Shane Griffin, assistant to Nessa Childers. “The job really ebbs and flows. Sometimes you have time to catch up on a lot of work that’s piled up in your inbox, and other days you can work straight through from 8am to 9pm.” For that reason it’s very uncommon to find assistants or interns who aren’t in their mid-twenties.

“

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There is an inbuilt social life that goes with the job, especially among Irish assistants and interns. They all sit together in the cafeteria (where a lady skipped me in the line, nearly destroying my faith in the European Union), and hang out. They even have a GAA team: Belgium GAA (Their blog is called Keeping it Lit). Set up by Cork native Dave Barrett around five years ago, he, instead of melding into Brussels life, created an effective mini-Ireland within Brussels. If you were going to go to live in Brussels, one call to this man would set you up with an apartment and a social life in 24 hours, just through his Irish network. Naturally, the fact that assistants and interns spend time together socially shouldn’t be surprising, but the fact that they do smoothens the political process. There are 736 MEPs, so there needs to be a lot of collaboration to get anything done, and it’s the assistants and the interns who have to go between each other’s offices to try and set up the meetings. It’s inevitably easier to work with people you’re friends with, and in the case of the Irish, most MEPs are left/right centrist, so everyone can get along, if with debate. It is true though that there has been a noticeable swing to the right in Europe, and it is affecting EU politics, because the politicians voted in are right wing. Shane explained that “the austerity programmes and current approach to the crisis are coming from conservative policy because the parliament and commission are conservative. People don’t see the EU as politics as normal, but that’s exactly what it is. The centre left propose different things to centre right, who run the council. It isn’t a case of north vs south or east vs west, but left vs right.” Part of the problem is that there is a sense of distance from the EU because the EU doesn’t do much to defend itself. When people criticise the national government, there will be ministers on the radio the next morning justifying their actions, but you can pretty much say anything about the EU and it will remain silent. It needs to communicate why we’re better off with it, now more than ever. I didn’t get the impression that there was any intentional effort to sway us when we were there, but why else would they have invited us? After the tour was over we went to dinner and then to Delerium, a bar that has a phone book sized menu of over 2000 different Belgian beers. On the way back to the hotel through the opulent European quarter, beautiful but the consequence of the worst kind of colonialism, there was a grand piano mysteriously sitting in the outdoor corridor. I played the only song I know, the theme from tetris, and then moved along. This apparently was normal in Brussels; I was told it’s usually futile to try and understand most of the seemingly random goings on in the city. This was Euro-Brussels though, a world away from Belgian Brussels, or anywhere. else.

Feature

WE’RE ALL SLUTS NOW Rachel Lavin examines the newest wave of feminism, attending Ireland’s first slut walk in NUIG.

t is a rainy Thursday afternoon in Shopstreet, Galway. Damp and glistening, the cobbled streets are host to the usual hive of activities that make Galway’s mainstreet such an attraction to culture hungry tourists. Perhaps if atavism can transcend historical instincts then so too comes the ideology of visual assault. The celtic warriors battled naked to show defiance, bravery, no need for armor in the face of danger, ‘we are not afraid’. Not unlike this, our invaders today advance in a flurry of clacking heels, emboldened chants and banners, placards, spirited cries and brief flashes of flesh and lace, pleats and fishnets, underneath the weather permitted rain jackets. Locals glance from one to the other for some signal for defense, action, only to be met with mirrored looks, that quickly turn to utter cluelessness. Typical Ireland, we can never be fully freed from the shackles of some form of oppression, be it the conquering British empiracy, the powerful Catholic Church, or the dreadful weather that cannot even allow for revealing dress on the eve of Ireland’s first Slutwalk. Slutwalks were born six months ago in the gym of York University, Toronto. Following a series of sexual assaults on campus, police officer Michael Sanguinetti spoke at a routine visit to advise the students on personal safety. Unknowingly however, his words there, to an audience of ten students, would be the catalyst that sparked a worldwide movement of protest within months.

“You know, I think we’re beating around the bush here,” The policeman touted obliviously “I’ve been told I’m not supposed to say this – however, women should avoid dressing like sluts in order not to be victimized.” Six months, and the beginnings of a new global feminist movement later, the locals of Galway look on, intrigued and perplexed as the first of Irish Slutwalks, organized by NUIG feminist society in coordination with Galway Rape Crisis center, parades by. ‘The purpose of these walks’ as the Vice-auditor of the feminist society, Caroline Ford points out ‘is to protest victim-blaming attitudes in relation to sexual violence. We want to challenge myths that a woman’s clothing causes or invites rape, namecalling or any other form of negative attention. A woman should be able to wear what she wants without alluding to the myth that what she wears causes sexual violence’. Despite the reality preferred by the media, who have portrayed these marches as a whimsical protest-lite, the clothes of only a few of the marchers is revealing. I can’t help but feel a little let down as looking down at my black mini-skirt, opaque tights, blouse and blazer I realize that I may be one of the most ‘sluttilly’ dressed people here, despite my beliefs this would be a neutral choice for the objective journalist. The majority of the group of fifty protestors that have turned out are dressed normally, kitted out for a rainy day of demonstration like any other, with few and far between in skirts and low-cut tops, just

Feature a society that tolerates rape’. Indeed only 6.7% of cases are convicted, despite one in six Irish women experiencing sexual violence in their lifetimes, according to the Savi report, while only 50% of victims will report rape. Aoibheann believes this has a lot to do with our society’s attitudes towards rape. It is true that currently in this country at the judge’s discretion the underwear of the victim may be summoned as a factor to sway the jury, based on how ‘provocative’ it may appear. Following on from the shocking Listowel case of 2007, where a young woman who was caught on cctv being raped by a local reputable man was later shunned by her local community after the man’s conviction and accused of ‘crying rape’ many times before, one is left despairing as how to change a society’s attitude on such a sinister issue. ‘We’re starting with one word’ Aoibheann explains, ‘Rape is about power and slut-shaming a tool for that power, from both men and women. It is used to de-humanize women, especially women who are victims of rape.’ It is clear men may use it as a term to insult and demean a woman but the reason women use it is slightly more complex.

A group of elderly women huddle together outside a hairdressers muttering the occasional ‘Lord have mercy’. visible under rain-jackets. NUIG’s lack of revealing clothing goes to prove the paradoxical point of the Slutwalks. The ethos purports that a woman should be able to wear whatever she wants, not because of the belief rape shouldn’t happen anyway, but the belief that in the event of rape, clothes play no factor at all, and as such, should not be blamed. It is in fact less an issue of dress code and more a war of words. The Slutwalk’s main aim is to reclaim the word slut. ‘It is about taking the biggest insult a woman can be given and turning it on its head.’ Caroline Ford, vice-auditor of the NUIG feminist society tells me. ‘Slut is defined as a woman that has ‘too much sex’, or ‘too many partners’. But who is to say what is ‘too’ much? Sex is personal for the individual.’ Evidently there is no doubt that the self-proclamations of sluttiness have an impact. Groups of young male students, while entertained and jeering, look curiously and appear affected, passing cars honk and there is a sense of liberation in the air. On the course of our walk I find the mesmerizing Elanor Leehan who innocently peeks out from behind her sign. When asked why she came to march in the slut walk she says in a timid voice ‘I wanted to highlight the victim blaming trend in our country and change the way we treat victims’. ‘Blame of victims is an increasingly prevalent reaction in society. We see this reaction repeatedly with our clients’ says Aoibheann McCann, the executive director of Galway Rape Crisis center, which is the largest center outside of Dublin’. ‘Victims are often shunned by their families and communities. Often in schools girls who allege sexual violence will be bullied by friends and called ‘sluts’. In Ireland, there is a continuous badgering of survivors out of anger for them daring to say it. Because of this the majority of survivors tell none’. As we talk, we pass by the infamous short-cut which became the tainted site of the rape-murder of visiting student Manuela Reido that shook Galway back in 2008. The young student was attacked by an already convicted rapist while using a well-known shortcut, and yet the general reaction in media and common talk was to focus on her irresponsible use of the pathway that lead to her death. ‘Clothes are just another method of distraction and blame’ says Aoibheann. ’60% of rape victims are children, what did they do? Society tends to shift the blame from rapists and shift the focus to the minority of cases. Only 10% of rapes are random attacks and 20% already know their victim. Clothes have no factor but are blamed as a factor and used in court cases. Such a sense of victim blaming denies their experience and shows that we live in

As we march a group of teenage schoolgirls look on in a defensive and aggravated manner, whispering sharply followed by lowbrowed stares. A group of elderly women huddle together outside a hairdressers muttering the occasional ‘Lord have mercy’. Caroline concludes it is a fear reaction. “When women hear of other women being raped, their initial reaction is to make her something ‘other’. If they can say it happened because the way she dresses or acts, she is then different and we can successfully conclude that therefore ‘that won’t happen to me’. It is a defense mechanism as women may then feel that they too are expected by men to act such a way, and as such meet the impossible standards of women illustrated in the social media, advertising and pornography’. While a protective measure, it leads the majority to ignore and ostracize the dark underbelly of society, which they may someday become victim of. Of all the reactions we come across on the day, it is possibly the female observers who are most forward in their disapproval with loud tutting and whole-body glances, and yet a confused afterthought clouds over their negative expressions at the idea we are proudly marching as the ‘sluts’ they chastise. The Slutwalk is leaving Shopstreet now and returning to NUIG, leaving the observers in Galway’s city center probed, confused, defeated. In the ruins of their illusions, banners, like ones reading ‘I don’t deserve to be raped’ imprinted on their eyes, there is a visible trail of confused expressions combined with the deciphering of the challenge they are presented with. Of course these expressions pass across their faces for split seconds. Perhaps I imagined it. After a few brief moments of speculated contemplation a young guitar-bearing busker quickly snaps back into the competitive game that is street performance and begins strumming, the observers awake and quickly return to their business, the briefly interrupted hum and buzz of Shopstreet begins to vibrate again. Perhaps parading around calling yourself slut is pointless after all. And yet, leaving I realize perhaps not, as I walk way recognizing the buskers familiar tune of Aslan’s ‘Crazy World’. Maybe it was my imagination but I feel the line ‘How can I protect you in this crazy world?’ reflected a new awareness that engulfed Shopstreet on that rainy Thursday afternoon. If you have been affected by any of the issues raised in this article please contact Dublin Rape Crisis Center at www.drcc.ie or freephone their 24 hour helpline at 1800 77 88 88.

Photo by Ana Araceli Lezcano Cadwallader 10

In Focus

Feature

Bitches & Wolves (Photo: Brian Moyne)

P.A.Y.S O.F.F. At the Hard Working Class Heroes Festival with David Doyle.

Feature

here’s been a seismic shift in the music industry in the last number of years with the rapid growth in the importance the internet plays in the music industry. It’s long been lamented by the industry leaders that the internet and the resultant illegal downloading of music has decimated the industry’s earnings and is slowly destroying music. But amidst all of this, another facet of the industry has come to the fore, namely the rise of independent music distribution. It’s now far easier for artists to have their music heard through the glut of blogs dedicated to emerging artists, and even easier again to build up a fan base using social media. In fact independent music has been hugely popular amongst a group of people who’ve grown tired of the commercial success of music talent shows which have dominated television schedules for the past decade. The rise of independent music in Ireland is perhaps best exemplified by the hugely successful Hard Working Class Heroes Festival which is just finished its ninth year. Hard Working Class Heroes has grown year-on-year and is now a key component of the Irish music scene, aiming to showcase the best independent music talent that Ireland has to offer. This year’s festival, which took place over three nights, saw one hundred acts play across six venues in Dublin proved one of the most successful to date and also revealed a huge amount about the complexities of the Irish independent music scene as well as hinting at the possible future direction of the industry in this country.

We Cut Corners playing at HWCH

Over the course of the three nights, there were a few standout performances and one of them was Daithí O Dronaí, who played the Grand Social on the opening night of the festival. Daithí first came to prominence through the very first series of The All Ireland Talent Show and though hardly a fertile ground for musical superstardom, the programme did allow the Galway native a chance to show his unique reinterpretation of traditional instruments through his now famous fiddle and loop station combination. What Daithí has done is fascinating in terms of the development of the Irish independent music scene; having managed to forge out a wellrespected place amongst the highest echelons of independent music while at the same time coming from a talent show background, a background seemingly incongruous with the independent music scene. Yet Daithí’s joining of two seemingly antithetical ideas is hardly surprising given the combination of heavily synthesized music and traditional Irish fiddle playing which has not only captured people’s imaginations but remains a wholly unique sound. Like many artists on the Irish independent music scene, Daithí has largely distributed his music through bandcamp, the platform which has been used by both emerging artists as well as more established artists who brand themselves as lying somewhere outside the traditional framework of the music industry, including Amanda Palmer and Sufjan Stevens. Despite his reality tv start, Daithí has followed the route of many of his contemporaries in choosing his own musical style over instantaneous commer-

cial success and this dogged determination is one of the hallmarks of the strong Irish independent scene. Like Daithí, Dublin based Bitches With Wolves, headed by the enigmatic James O’Neill, are fond of a synthesized sound yet they come from an entirely different background to Daithí. Starting as something of a joke at a party, Bitches With Wolves have become a staple of the Irish independent music scene in recent months and the release of their debut EP, Hurricane, marks a decided step forward in their career. The recent success of the group was rewarded at Hard Working Class Heroes with a headline slot on opening night and similarly to Daithí, they present a unique insight into the world of Irish independent music. Bitches With Wolves, for a long time consisted largely of James O’Neill but recent performances, including both Electric Picnic and Hard Working Class Heroes has seen several new members added to the group, giving a much fuller sound in their newer material. Also the signature look of the band has been toned down slightly but just enough to give them a wider fan base; gone it seems are the days of leather cycling shorts and little else, now replaced by eccentric shirts and vintage jackets. The result, when combined with a more commercially refined sound, has been nothing short of stunning. Bitches With Wolves it seems have managed to navigate the difficult path from the fringe of the independent music scene to a far more commercial scene and in doing so have blazed a trail for other independent Irish acts to follow. Seeing the group eighteen months ago, it would have been hard to imagine that they would at this point have recorded and released an EP, opened for some major acts, recorded a professional music

Feature Daithí O Dronaí (Photo: Brian Moyne)

video and garnered significant airplay from the major radio stations. The mercially successful acts at this year’s Hard Working Class Heroes Festival, Le group’s move towards commercial success has seen them modify their image Galaxie, have built their success upon several live performances, most notably and sound to make them more viable while at the same time managing to at Electric Picnic this year. hold onto their uniqueness, something which it seems many other independ Le Galaxie have, by and large, done things the old fashioned way, ent Irish acts will follow. building up a name for themselves as a great live act and gaining both It is this inherent drive for commercial success commercial and critical success with that. However they’ve also within the independent music scene that seems to be embraced the internet, the very thing which has changed the biggest potential pitfall for independent music in the traditional music industry. It is this model of emIreland. While Bitches With Wolves have managed bracing past methods of success while also daring to to navigate the path without compromising their use new methods, that seems to be the most viable The very fact that inintegrity, the path is by no means an easy one and for independent artists going forward. no doubt in the coming months there’s little There is no doubting the artistic merits of dependent music has doubt that many other groups will fail where Daithí, Bitches With Wolves, Le Galaxie as become so popular is they have succeeded. The very fact that well as the host of other acts that made up the independent music has become so popular Hard Working Class Heroes festival this year perhaps its greatest threat is perhaps its greatest threat as people try to and the commercial success that they’re havmake money off its newfound popularity. ing on the back of it should be seen as a good as people try to make Indeed Hard Working Class thing for independent music in Ireland. The money off its newfound Heroes this year was by no means immune festival, alongside the acts in it, has shown that to that move towards the commercialisatimes have changed and the professionalisation popularity. tion of the independent music scene given its of independent music scene isn’t a bad thing for heavy sponsorship this year. The very home of the industry. Instead it’s offering the chance for independent music it seemed was not impervious new talent to emerge in a new way, separate from to the lure of money with virtually every band paying the overly produced talent shows of the past decade homage to the festival’s sponsors. With the mainstay of and away from the manufactured pop of the boyband era. musical independence in Ireland having a heavy lilt of con The festival organisers have said “You can’t go back to sumerism this year, the question must be asked, has independent the way things once were and you also can’t just completely alter music in Ireland become a commercial entity? the way things are done overnight” and it seems fair to say that this largely The answer quite simply is yes but that’s not necessarily a bad sums up the way the independent music scene is at the moment; hard work thing. Indeed it is the sponsorship which allowed such a festival showcasing along with a unique sound remain the best route to success, both commercial the talents of the Irish music scene to be held and the emerging success of and critical and while the industry is changing, a small amount of commercial Bitches With Wolves is testament to the fact that commercial success doesn’t appeal is still necessary to hit the big time in Ireland today. have to come at the expense of artistic integrity. In fact one of the most com-

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” 14

Sport

Matt Le Tissier

some semblance of athleticism, despite being conspicuously overweight. This would seemingly result in a player being ridiculed, but with Le Tissier it was different. The reason for this is because he was a bloody talented footballer with a penchant for scoring goals verging on the sublime. Furthermore, the that that fact he was constantly overlooked for his national team produces a peculiar amount of sympathy towards a professional footballer. They can be difficult to sympathise with occasionally, but Matt made me pity him. It is also important to bear in mind how a footballer of Le Tissier’s dimensions and constitution can go horribly wrong, and result in Andy Reid.

Fabrizio Ravanelli Ravanelli was a keen exponent of the shirt-over-head celebration; it would be reasonable to say he was addicted to celebrating goals in this manner. When FIFA outlawed the practice, one could only imagine the raw grief that overcame Ravanelli. With nothing to sate his predilection for putting his shirt over his head when he scored, Ravanelli lost his mind. He grew disillusioned, and moved from Lazio in Rome to Derby County in the Midlands, as only an insane man could. However, Ravanelli’s insanity appears to have paid dividends in the long run, as Derby County still pay his wages up to this day, despite Ravanelli only playing there for two years. Ostensibly, the Silver Fox has made a decent career by demonstrating the impression of talent, and perhaps he has achieved his own illusion of happiness, but you can see how he will not be entirely content, nor of sound mind, until he raises that jersey over his head one more time in front of thousands demonstrating his purest form of selfgratification. No addict can ever get truly clean. Ravanelli needs his fix.

ACCEPTABLE IN THE 90’S?

Phil Babb If you don’t remember Phil Babb, what exactly do you remember? Amassing 35 caps for Ireland he managed to become just about memorable, but for no particular reason at all. Perhaps it’s because his surname is a bit weird, and verging on Scandinavian. Does it need three Bs in it? Nevertheless, he is the archetypal forgettable, but not forgotten, footballer. For many, the only memory of Babb will be his unfortunate collision with the post in a match against Chelsea. While nobly attempting to divert the ball from going in, fate transpired against him and decided to affect his life in a pointless, but painful, manner: with legs akimbo he flew bollocks-first into the post. A cruel indictment of Phil Babb’s career is evidenced by typing his name into Youtube. The first two results are videos of the aforementioned incident. It seems the people have decided how they want to remember you, Phil. You were a handy player too, but Youtube doesn’t remember that. It just remembers you hurting your balls.

1990s Premiership football is too often remembered for the Cantonas and the Bergkamps. David Geoghegan prefers to appreciate the most heroically mediocre players who excited the fans with their extraordinary blandness.

or some reason or another, certain premiership footballers from our youth remain in our memories. They may not have been the most exceptional, nor the most exciting, but they possess an unforgettable, yet indescribable, quality that solidifies their position in one’s memory An important fact to mention is that there is something inherently funny about some players. I know many people that if you simply looked them in the eye and said ‘Fabrizio Ravanelli’, they would begin to laugh. These kinds of footballers, the types that arouse genuine nostalgia, are essential components of the sport, and I hope that never changes.

Pointless Footballer That I will Remember in the Future: John O’Shea I don’t think I will ever be able to forget John O’Shea. That desperate attempt to obtain absolute mediocrity; that slightly forlorn, forever lost disposition; that striking similarity to all bouncers in Dublin. He is unforgettable, and I’m pleased. John O’Shea is the kind of man who drifts through life without notice, and whose death is mourned by only his most ardent fans. Unfortunately, John O’Shea has no fans, and I doubt he has a family either. No one will mourn his death, but it will be noticed by all. We will never forget you because we have no choice.

Matt Le Tissier Matt Le Tissier was an elegant player. Few English footballers in recent memory could be described as truly graceful, but Le Tissier most certainly could. He was one of the last bastions of plump, paunchy footballers who still managed to give

Culture music

Stores of Record

We hardly knew ye...

The Twisted Pepper has just opened a new independent record store, Eoin Hennessy evaluates hard copy music.

Ten years after Mic Christopher’s death, Irish artists pay tribute. by Shona Watson

ithin the past few weeks, Dublin has seen two new record stores open, E2 Music on College Green and Elastic Witch in the Twisted Pepper on Middle Abbey Street. Obviously then, there is still a market for CDs and vinyl, if it is only still a niche one. Where HMV and Tower used to dominate on the CD and vinyl front, the attention has now shifted to smaller shops like All City on Crowe Street and Free Bird on Wicklow Street. Despite this, Dublin has still seen some of its most loved record shops close down over the past two years, including Free Bird Records on Upper Fownes Street and Road Records on Fade Street. In the case of Road, after their first closing down, a group of record lovers all put in money to get the place up and running again. Unfortunately, this only lasted around 3 months before having to shut its doors indefinitely. Despite having a market to cater to, both Road and Free Bird did not have the stamina to compete with the likes of HMV and Tower. Seeing these two shops close was heartbreaking to all record buyers including myself, but even though both shops had great value closing down sales, it was not worth the cheap records to see these places lost forever. Not all the record shops are doing badly though. R.A.G.E. Records, which now stands in exactly the same place Road used to be, not only sells records but also old gaming consoles and games. This lucky writer managed to pick up an N64 and Shaq Fu (Shaquille O’Neal’s seminal kung-fu

game). Places like HMV and Tower now mainly concentrate on DVDs, although Tower is now starting to make a move back to the vinyl side of things. All City Records, one of the best music shops in Dublin at the moment, makes money from selling spray paint to delinquents/artists, and impressively, running its own label. Through this they manage to sell their records online and through iTunes, and now make decent profits while still providing records for all vinyl junkies. The opening of Elastic Witch is particularly exciting, since they intend to focus on selling vinyl, cd’s and even tapes from independent artists of ever every stripe, with an emphasis on Irish acts. It can be difficult to even just know where to find independent Irish music, but under Gib Cassidy, the shop plans to host launch parties and in-store shows; “There will definitely be live sessions in the shop, we have the use of the stage so that is something that we’ll be starting to organise soon.” Fostering connections with local acts will be one of the main focuses of the shop according to Gib, “with most of the Irish stock is brought in by the artists themselves. Then we agree on a cut for the shop and it goes out on the shelves that day.” In this era of downloading, it is these shops that are most important in keeping local scenes alive, and you wouldn’t even be able to illegally download most of the music sold in them if you tried. Whether or not they can stay afloat depends on the level of interest. If they go out of business, it’s because we don’t deserve them.

he 29th of November marks the 10th anniversary since Irish singer song writer Mic Christopher’s tragic death. To mark the sad occasion The Frames, Mary Janes and Friends sing the songs of the Dubliner in Vicar Street commemorating Christopher and celebrating his talent as a musician. Mic Christopher is renowned for his solo EP Heyday released in 2001 after recovering from a serious motorbike accident and was working on his debut album Skylarkin’ prior to his death. Family and close friends completed the singer’s album which featured contributions from Gemma Hayes, Glen Hansard, Lisa Hannigan and former Mary Janes band mates. Christopher was born in 1969 in the Bronx in New York but moved to Dublin with his Irish parents at the age of 3. In school he began playing traditional Irish music and started busking when he was just 15, often playing on Grafton Street with The Frames front man Glen Hansard. Christopher

then went on to form Mary Janes with former Kila bassist and fellow busker Karl Odlum. Mary Janes performed at various festivals including the Feile and Fleadh music festivals and Glastonbury. They split in 1999 and shortly after, Christopher embarked on his solo career and went on to receive the award for Best Album for Skylarkin’ at the 2003 Meteor Irish Music awards. Following a gig in the Netherlands in November 2001, Christopher struck his head after a bad fall and lapsed into a coma, never regaining consciousness. Numerous artists have dedicated their music to Christopher since his death including the complete collection of albums released by The Frames, Damien Rice’s album O and Lisa Hannigan’s song Splishy Splashy on her debut album Sea Sew was also written as a tribute to the singer. It’s evident that the singer has gained a lot of respect from such credible artists and has really made a significant musical impact on the people who experienced his talent during his short life. One can’t help but wonder that if he had not been denied the fruitful career his musical comrades seem to enjoy, to what greater extent Christopher would have stormed the music scene. The concert in Vicar Street is also a fundraiser for the Irish Fragile X Society, a charity that promotes the awareness of Fragile X, an intellectual disability. Tickets are on sale from Ticketmaster now.

music

DRC Music - Kinshasa One Two

ecorded over five intense days, Kinshasa One Two aims to raise money for Oxfam and their work in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). DRC Music is a collective of producers lead by Damon Albarn (Blur/ Gorillaz) and includes Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs, Actress, Richard Russell, Dan The Automator and many more. Albarn also takes in a huge host of local musicians from Kinshasa who give the album its wonderful African vibe. With its infectious rhythms, angelic vocals and spacey sounds, Kinshasa One Two deliv-

ers a perfect blend of Congolese music with modern electronic noise. Tracks like “Lingala” sound as if they could be played by djs like Ramadanman and Joy O. One of the stand out tracks on the album, “Love” (featuring Love), is one minute of pure vocal bliss using just the voice to enchant the listener. Despite all of its superb tracks, there are some points on the album where the electronic music takes over and the Congolese music is forced out. Never the less, Albarn has created an album that not only goes to a great cause but also sounds great too. - Eoin Hennessy

Rustie - Glass Swords

f you want to get a party going, Russell Whyte’s (a.k.a. Rustie) debut album on Warp Records, Glass Swords, is the one for you. Whyte, who hails from Glasgow and is heavily involved with Hudson Mohawke and the label Numbers, has made one of the year’s best electronic albums. This album could fuel any rave whether it be today or in fifty years time. The main influences on the album are prog rock, video games and big

BADBADNOTGOOD – BBNG

here are lots of hip-hop albums which celebrate jazz but rarely do you see a jazz group that celebrates hip-hop. However, Canadian Jazz trio BADBADNOTGOOD have done exactly that. The album, which is entitled BBNG, is self released and completely free to download from the group’s Bandcamp page. Simply to call this band a Jazz group would be a lie, as the album contains covers from Joy Division to Flying Lotus. All the members are fantastic musicians, not to mention brilliant improvisation players.

room dance music and it shows. Tracks like “City Star” and “Ultra Thizz” alternate synth squeal and hip hop beats to create perfect dance floor killers while songs like “Hover Trap” sound fresh out of the eighties (Seinfeld in particular). Each track has so much going on yet none seem to lose focus. Ultimately however Rustie has created an album that was made with complete confidence, for you, the listener, to love and cherish. Truly remarkable.- Eoin Hennessy

Radiohead – TKOL RMX 1234567

Despite gaining credibility from Odd Future covers, BBNG come into their own from covering old school hip-hop like Gang Starr’s “Mass Appeal” and Slum Village’s “Fall In Love”. However, not every track is fantastic as we see their cover of Flying Lotus’s “Camel” fall a bit flat. It would also be nicer to see fewer covers on this LP as one of the best tracks on the album is a BBNG original called “Listeriosis”. People constantly have the impression that jazz is only for an adult contemporary audience, however it obvious that BBNG have the ability to change this. - Eoin Hennessy

t seemed that The King of Limbs would be the perfect choice for Radiohead’s first ever remix album. However, this is not the case. Instead what we get is a two hour mush of remixes which seem lack emotion and order. While there are some fantastic remixes on this album, like Blawan’s bass heavy take on “Bloom” and Shed’s mesmerizing version of “Little by Little”, it appears to be completely forgettable. Comprised of a series of 7 12”s released between July and September, TKOL RMX is an album for the serious Radiohead collectors. One

will have to pay up to €50 to get each one of these records in their original vinyl format. The most disappointing thing about this album is how it shows just how bad some of the bigger producers have gotten, Jamie xx leaves us with an extremely dull ambient version of “Bloom” while Modeselektor give as an excruciatingly repetitive take on “Good Evening Mrs Magpie”. While tracks like Four Tet’s “Separator” are beautifully delicate, the rest of the album just seems to be an awful mush. This reviewer will be sticking to the original in any case. -Eoin Hennessy

Culture literature

Man Booker winner?/! With the Man Booker Prize winner just announced, Alicia Byrne Keane reviews the bookie’s favourite.

he Sense of an Ending is Julian Barnes’ fourth book to be shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize, and by the time you’re reading this, it has (probably) won. The illustrious prize has never been kind to the bookie’s favourite, but in this case, neither is it kind to the University Times Magazine’s print-cycle. At a hundred and fifty pages, it can be read in a single afternoon, but despite being startlingly brief, this book will stay with the reader long after they have finished the final page. Barnes, through his subtle style, manages to powerfully pack an atmospheric sense of unease into so few pages. The plot is rather meandering and fragmented, being centred primarily on the protagonist’s memories. Indeed, most of the events in the book happen forty years prior to its present, and take place in flashbacks revisited by the narrator, sometimes with obsessive repetition. We learn that Tony Webster, a pensive history enthusiast on the wrong side of middle age, has inherited five hundred pounds and a diary from the dead mother of his long-ago college girlfriend Veronica. Having been offered no explanation for this, Tony delves into his past to search for answers. As the plot unfolds, we learn of Tony’s past traumas: how Veronica had rejected him in favour of his more sophisticated friend Adrian, how he had subsequently grown estranged from both friend and girlfriend after sending them an abusive letter, and how Adrian had later taken his own life, sending Tony into a world of guilt and torment. In order to make sense of events in his past, Tony becomes determined to resume

contact with the woman who once rejected him – a move which will, ultimately, reveal the dark secret behind the inheritance. While Barnes’ mix of contemporary fiction and philosophical theorising is attractively original, this same mixture can appear stilted and contrived at times. Certain paragraphs at the beginning of the book, in which narratives from Tony’s school days segue abruptly into lengthy contemplations of the philosophy of suicide, can seem unconvincing. That said, Barnes’ musings can be helpful at times in bringing this kind of contemplative thinking, usually found at the higher end of literature, to a more mainstream audience. Although he doesn’t always manage this with aplomb, he makes abstract theories accessible in the form of the modern novel. However, the book still has marked faults. At times, the symbolism can be clunky and obvious. The protagonist’s interest in history has glaring parallels with his desire to unearth secrets from his own past. When meeting up with his college girlfriend, they stand together on a “wobbly bridge” which may echo the shaky foundations of their relationship. At other times, however, Barnes can stun the reader with his adept grasp of emotions. Barnes perfectly captures our tendency to revisit the same memories, sometimes to the point of tormenting ourselves. In fact, many of his best observations are those that focus on the workings of memory. He portrays how nostalgia can distort your view of long-ago friends and lovers, making even the rockiest relationships seem desirable with time. He explores the tricks memory can play, sometimes causing us to

fabricate things that didn’t happen in order to justify our understanding of later events. Best of all, perhaps, are his observations on memory in relation to guilt. On many occasions we see the narrator blaming himself for events which were, in reality, beyond his control. Barnes’ portrayal of regret is tragically familiar. Due to the book’s brevity, there is little time for character development. Through this though, the author manages to paint a spare yet vivid picture of the leading characters. The character of Tony is well-portrayed, for his flaws as much as for his virtues. His insecurity makes his actions believable: for instance, we understand the anger and frustration of his younger self in his relationship with the withholding Veronica. We understand his tendency towards jealousy, which is most likely spawned by his own self-doubt. We can also empathise easily with his older self – a tortured man grown bitter with regret. His over-analysis of the past, and his tendency to read too much into simple actions, are consistent with Barnes’ depiction of Tony as guilt-ridden and lonely. The contrast between Tony’s two past lovers is also very skilfully conveyed. His ex-wife Margaret is clear-headed and pragmatic, while Veronica is enigmatic and evasive. The fact that the two women are polar opposites creates an interesting dynamic in their interactions with Tony, as it draws attention to the depressing fact that he cannot fully connect with either of them. The Sense of an Ending is by no means a perfect book, but it succeeds in being original and thought-provoking, and is/would have been a deserving Man Booker winner.

film

Driver By Darragh Haugh

very now and again a movie comes out that not only exceeds expectations but also leaves you shaken, breathless and wanting more. Drive is not only one of those films but it marks the breakout movie of one of the industry’s most exciting directors Nicolas Winding Refn. Capitalizing on the promise and primal intensity of his previous works, Bronson and Valhalla Rising, Refn delivers his most accessible and entertaining film to date. Right off the bat, we are treated to an opening car chase that instantly sets the tone and introduces the unique style, bucking the trend of most of Hollywood’s more recent action scenes. Based on the book by James Sallis, the film was initially intended as a staring vehicle for Hugh Jackman with British indie director Neil Marshall originally at the helm. Luckily for us, Refn took the reins in early 2010. Drive centres on the nameless driver (Ryan Gosling) who works as a movie stunt driver by day and a getaway wheel-man by night. He is drawn into a world of violence after meeting the delicate Irene (Carey Mulligan) and her son. While this, along with a horrible trailer, may sound like the set up for another derivative Fast and Furious knock off, Refn and Co. use this as a springboard for the most stylish movie in years. While the entire cast deliver an amazing per-

formance, a couple of these are worth special mention: Gosling, shying away from showing performances like those of the past few years, plays the driver very much as the silent anti-hero archetype, almost channelling Steve McQueen and Charles Bronson. Although given sparse dialogue, Gosling shines as a man struggling to keep his inherently violent nature under tap. Also for those of you curious as to what people mean when talking about ‘on-screen chemistry’, Drive should be your primary case study. Despite rarely conversing for more than a few sentences we are instantly sold on Gosling and Mulligan’s blossoming relationship. Refn confidenly knows that less is more and bravely gives his cast the room to breathe life into the script. However, the standout performance has to be Albert Brookes (you may recognise him as Hank Scorpio in the Simpsons), world weary mobster. Very few actors can make us both sympathise and fear a character at the same time, which is something Brookes seems to do with ease - keep an eye out for him come Oscar season. Easily the prettiest movie of the last few years, tending towards golden hues and long following shots which give the movie an almost dream like quality, these perfectly contrast the short outbursts of extreme violence. Some have likened the violence here to that of Quentin Tarantino but I think the opposite is true. There is no

throwaway blood here. Each physical altercation is given great care and individual style making all of them stick in your mind long after the film’s 100 minute running time. One particular standout scene involves a midnight confrontation on a beach where the pulsating beam from a nearby lighthouse almost doubles as the steady heartbeat of a murder. Then there’s the soundtrack:. An instant classic mix of ‘80s inspired techno featuring the likes of Kavinsky and a haunting score by Cliff Martinez that’s just fucking cool. Since seeing Drive four weeks ago, the film’s soundtrack has been on repeat in my iPod. It’s that rare mix that makes you feel cooler just for listening to it. This is what truly stands out about Drive. It’s just really cool. This movie mixes together stylistic touches of the last half century in what of should have ended up as a mess but reaches that indefinable, indescribable concept of what is cool. Every camera movement, song choice, line of dialogue and piece of wardrobe (apparently racing jackets are in this year) are perfectly chosen and natural. I’m sure many of you will feel quite different to me, Drive is a polarizing movie. You and your friends may disagree on its merits but if you haven’t already seen this film, do yourself a favour. Douze Points.

fashion

CSC

Take a Chance on Me Katherine Reidy discusses non-intuitive make-up techniques.

Ah, neutral hued eye-shadow and nude lip-colour - the LBD of the make-up world! Neutrals are fantastic –there’s a shade for every skin tone and eye colour, OHMYGAAAAAWD-my-make-upclashes-with-my-dress-which-clashes-with-my-shoesbut-I’ll-wear-those-anyway-because-they-lookamazing-and-cost-me-like-half-a-months-wages woes are eliminated and finally, they are timeless, but are we actually going to a funeral or a conference that will make or break our careers? Probably not. Chances are we are wearing the LBD because it’s safe. How many times have you had to restrain yourself from buying another black dress or another navy top because each time you open your closet you are greeted by a tsunami of neutrals? How many times have you been in awe at the girl who can pull off a flame red dress, yet continued to let yourself off the hook by whispering in your head, ‘That colour would look heinous on me! She’s so lucky, everything suits her skin tone.’? While that colour might not work any miracles for you, nobody is condemned to a life without colour. This is especially true of make-up. While we’ll generally find a splash of colour somewhere on a person’s outfit, finding a breakaway from the routine natural look or smokey-eyes (but in neutral tones) can be quite a task at times. It’s not that we don’t like colour, rather that we are afraid, afraid of what other people will think, of what they will say, of how puffy our eyes or pale our skin will look. Admittedly, there are those who would argue that make-up is merely there to enhance our natural features, and tangerine lipstick probably isn’t exactly a ‘natural’ lip colour, but saying that is like saying clothes are only supposed to enhance our natural bodies which is tantamount to suggesting we all go around in nude coloured, tummy-tucking underwear all day, which I, quite frankly, will gladly forgo. Now, I’m not advocating gambolling through the city wearing neon pink stripes painted across your face on a daily basis, and personally, I do prefer a more classic Audrey-Hepburn style or a dewy, ‘natural’ look (think Balmain models) but every now and then, a little splash of colour can make life a little more interesting,

it can lift your mood and even boost your confidence. If you’re not quite ready to sweep a bright yellow shadow across your lids, there are still a myriad of other ways to introduce your favourite hue. Take some inspiration from the New York and London fashion weeks this September – keep the face and eyes quite understated and instead, stop traffic with a bold lip

colour. Red’s a classic, but deep crimson can be even more dramatic and eye-catching. So what do you have to lose by applying a little turquoise eyeliner ? It worked for the models at David Koma at LFW SS12. If you really think it’s not working, well, at least you’ve learned that that colour isn’t the best for you – and you can move swiftly on to another hue! “When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap!” - Cynthia Heimel.

y now the dust has settled. Freshers’ Week is but a distant memory, and so too are the names of your conquests from the first few nights out on the tiles. Pav Fridays should be in full swing, and the alacrity with which you intended to face the year’s workload is most likely waning at supersonic speed. The main event of Week 4 for the Political Society is a debate between the main political societies in Trinity. The Chair of each society will be joined by a member of each party, to discuss the motion “Why Join a Political Party?”. Hopefully this will be as acerbic as it is scholastic. The debate will be taking place in the Davis Theatre at 7pm on Wednesday 19th. It will be followed by a reception. The evening of Tuesday 18th sees TCD Orchestra holding an open rehearsal. It will undoubtedly, and at the very least, provide fascinating insight into the workings of the critically-acclaimed symphony collective. Be there at 7pm for an aural and visual treat. Friday October 21st sees them perform Arcade Fire’s hits once more in the Parlour. DUAMS and LitSoc have joined forces to host what is sure to be a brilliant showcase of talent in an open mic night. Combining lyrical talent, instruments, poetry, creative readings and drinks deals, this is destined to be laidback, enlightening and entertaining. It’s on the 20th in Thomas Reads, at 8pm. D.U Comedy are hosting their Comedy Extravaganza on Wednesday 19th with top Irish comedian Joe Rooney and special guests. On Thursday night from 6-8pm, there will be an open Improv night where anyone can come along and take part in some entertaining Improv games. No audition or experience necessary, and both events are free. Time and location were yet to be confirmed at the hour of deadline but should be up by the time you’ve read this. The Environmental Society will be providing an ingenious Bike Maintenance Workshop in the Robert Emmet Theatre in the Arts block, also at 7pm on Tuesday. Week 4 certainly appears to be made for the lushes, because we have another wine reception and EGM in the Atrium 7-9pm on Tuesday, 18th. Not only that, the History Society have organised’The Other Lemass’ – a lecture on Sean Lemass by historian Bryce Evans. This will be in A.B 5052, 6pm, Wednesday 19th I am valiantly fighting my instinct to make a joke about rocks; the GeogSoc are also hosting a fancy schmancy wine reception on Thursday the 20th, in the Museum building, GSSR-A. It’s open to everyone, not just members. VDP have a Treasure Hunt on Thursday 20th at 6pm and will be meeting at the Campanile. Looking ahead to Halloween week and beyond, make a mental note of SVP Society’s Disney Night in Andrew’s Lane Theatre on the 27th. , and rush to sign up for Wind Surfing Soc’s trip to Achill Island (November 4th to 6th). Katie Abrahams

WHERE’S MY ELEPHANT?

by Luke O’Connell

ime was when the Central Bank was the preserve of emo kids. Given that their collective life outlook was one of ennui and contrived disaffection, it seems fitting that the latest group with too much time on its hands to take over the much-loved meeting place is one whose unofficial mission is to cure the Irish people of their “sickness of apathy”, a hangover of the Celtic Tiger. Since Saturday 8th, a predictably motley crew of cigarette-rolling men has taken residence on the street, purportedly intending to stay for as long as it takes to get shit done. Tents, tea, workshops, live music and loudhailers have all been employed to this end, as the suits walking past into the Bank look on in bemusement. Did you know the Oireachtas was created under the Crown? So I was told by one of the many handwritten signs adorning the ground and gates. The word “under” was underlined, leading me to wonder which position they would have preferred. On top of the Crown? Taking it up the rear from the Crown? Such antipathy for one apparently harmless piece of headgear, I had always thought. “You don’t need a piece of paper to tell you your rights” read another, not worth the paper it was scrawled on, before listing a couple of my rights underneath. Michael McDowell’s denouncement of “the left, the hard left and the left-overs” was sounding pertinent than ever. I ostentatiously rolled a cigarette, did my best to make my beard a little more prominent, and gingerly approached a ginger-bearded man inexplicably clad in a high-vis jacket to ask if there was anyone to talk to around here. He seemed vaguely excited, or confused – his facial expressions had withered over the years to one of perpetual nondescription - and said something about going to find someone a little more “erudite”, pronouncing the word as if it were in inverted commas. There then appeared a man with a thick beard and long hair who looked not unlike a much smaller Andre the Giant. Sean was his name and he had not left since Saturday, although he did not smell, according to my best judgment. His right-thumb fingernail was almost two inches longer than his other nails and I suspected he played guitar or else used it for some other, more secretive activity. And, lo, he turned out to be erudite after all, in fact making a lot of sense and foregoing the usual “BUUURN DA BONDHOLDERZ!” mantra that is so often chanted emptily by those opposed to the IMF’s presence. He

stressed the apolitical nature of the event, something which I would have readily doubted in the past, and how ideology really had nothing to do with it. He was not affiliated with any political party and had no agenda in that regard. Sean was a reasonable man. He didn’t even show any signs of republican madness. His aims were mostly what you would imagine, in terms of a distrust of the IMF, anger at the public having to deal with private debt, and a move to participatory democracy which would more truly enfranchise voters. In a way I was disappointed that he wasn’t more mad. Seeing a beautiful woman with big bouncing breasts out of the corner of my eye, my mind started to wander as I ogled. Before long I realised that, of course, she was not a protester but merely a house-dwelling observer like me, as I saw the notepad in her hand. It had been a while since I had seen the female form. I asked Sean why this was. He gave a knowing smile and said it was something to do with women not wanting to sleep on concrete, saying that he hoped he didn’t sound sexist. This was not Oxegen: there would be no moonlight romps in pop-up tents. But it was not Brokeback Mountain either. It was purely a lot of people sleeping in tents so that they could stay there indefinitely. Sean said they would have to make provisions for when the snowy winter comes. I agreed with him, saying he would want to wrap up well. Maybe they could burn the bondholders for warmth. It was getting late. I had already narrowly avoided being seen by various vague friends and acquaintances who had passed by. It’s a shame to see such a legendary meeting point hijacked. I’d imagine ordinary people in 1916 were thinking the same thing when all that commotion was going on around the Spire. But who are the ordinary people anyway? Sean would say he is. But so would Enda Kenny, I’m sure, and you don’t see him smoking roll-ups down at the Central Bank, and more’s the pity! It’s all well-intended, and it would be great if the protesters did effect some real change, but honestly I think they are not pissing in McDonald’s, as they claim, but rather into the wind. The reality is that, despite many people agreeing with their objectives, this sort of activism with its misspelled signs and lack of focus inevitably ends up coming across to many as fringe. I only wish I had a better idea.