i see robots!

Recently I've read 'A Brief History of Time' by Stephen Hawking, 'The God Delusion' by Richard Dawkins and listened to the song 'The Nature of Reality' by Oasis.  This is what I concluded on a truly insane lunch trip to Morrisons where I bought some Rowntree's Randoms and a Milky Bar before rushing back to the office to type this up!

(PS If what I've written here is complete and total rubbish and a serious misunderstanding of those two books and the scientific principles on which they are based then I'm sorry and will someone please tell me before I embarrass myself any further! =D )

"If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?"

 We exist within a narrowly defined reality, curtailed by our senses and rendered by our brains to the extent and necessity to which they are evolved.  We have evolved as beings to live within the immediate, relative to us.  Time, space, matter, forces, emotion etc are experienced by us as defined and interpreted by the evolutionary necessity of survival within our immediate world.    What we experience as reality is the equivalent of looking through a letterbox to the outside world. 

 

This is not philosophy this is fact.  Imagine being deaf and blind, do sounds and light still exist? Of course they do. Now, to believe that the only things that exist in the universe are what our limited senses can perceive and our brains can process is absurd and illogical.  Nor does this realisation end here.  Our interpretation of our senses is also immediately relevant to ourselves.  We all accept that time passes predictably and in one direction but it only seems so because the evidence suggests so but as has already been established our evidence is incredibly narrow and thus we can not make assumptions based merely on sensory evidence alone. We all experience time the same because we are all of a similar mass and constitution and are travelling through space-time under the same conditions and making the same interpretations based on the same cognitive wiring.  A squirrel for example, measurably experiences time differently from our selves because its experience is, although very similar to ours, unique to itself. 

 

A squirrel is smaller in mass and experiences gravity much less intensely than ourselves and so, for the squirrel, time passes slower.  This is a crude explanation because the slower passing of time for the squirrel is only relevant to our selves when in fact the comparison is irrelevant because time only exists in our ‘world’ as relative.  This is true of all living creatures. No animal on this earth will have the same world view as us. A fly is perhaps a more useful example because it has vastly different sensory inputs to human beings (ie infra-red, gravity, time etc) and it also processes them completely differently to us because it has evolved to do so therefore the brain of a fly renders the world in its imagination as unfathomably contrary to ours. The fly doesn’t exist within an alternate reality it is merely that the fly’s ‘letter box’ on the world is in a different position to ours.  The world we see exists to the fly but only outside of that to which it can comprehend. 

 

Another example is that of matter.  We see a table as a solid piece of matter that is physically impenetrable but this is isn’t the case. A table is in fact largely made up of space and is not solid at all.  At the atomic level the space between the nucleus and protons is relatively enormous meaning that on an atomic level atoms largely consist of space. So why then does the table appear solid?  The answer is because we have evolved to perceive the world at the immediate and relative level and the same is true for the universe which is so incomprehensibly large.  Once we accept that reality can not be defined by sensory evidence or cognitive process then we can begin to understand the true nature of reality.   

 

 

"Cogito, ergo sum.  I think therefore I am" – Descartes

 

If we accept that we do exist simply by the logic that we are able to question that very fact then on what level do we exist, given what I have already suggested?  Mark Twain once said:

 

I do not fear death.  I had been dead for billions of billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience for it.

 

This is an interesting point.  What we know of life is based on senses and the brains ability to process those senses and by this we define death as the point at which we stop receiving or cognitively rendering those physical senses.  Our physical bodies continue to exist longer after our death but the brain no longer has the ability to function so we do not count that body as alive. Therefore we clearly relate the end of life to the end of thought and can thus can define existence on the most basic and fundamental level as thought. 

 

In terms of our accepted letter box view of the world, thought ends with death and so life ends with death.  However, we have already accepted that this letterbox  view based on sensory evidence is not a true reflection of reality.  When our physical bodies cease to function, our physical interpretation of reality ceases to operate also. True, our ability to interpret this or indeed any of reality or in fact to acknowledge or even understand it ceases also but it is still a valid assumption.  If we do exist then, where do we exist?  Again our limited senses and processing power lets us down. 

 

We put ourselves in a particular point in space-time because that is how we experience it based on our senses but when we consider (a) that we exist fundamentally in thought and (b) that time is NOT constant then we realise that in fact those thoughts exist outside of space-time.  It is not a simple case of that we exist for an impossibly brief period in time and nothing of ourselves remains afterwards or existed before. Indeed before and after are relative human constructs which do not in fact exist at all. Our ability to produce thoughts is brief but those thoughts exist indefinitely.   Again to understand this is to accept that our view of reality is that of a letter-box, determined entirely by the limited input and minimally evolved cognitive processing and rendering of those inputs.

Well surprise surprise newly promoted Burnley are many pundits favourites for the drop this season but confidence is high at Turf Moor and we shouldn’t be underestimated, just ask Fulham, Chelsea, Arsenal, West Brom and Tottenham why if you don’t believe me.

 

Let’s not forget that these are also the same ‘experts’ that had us amongst the favourites for relegation from the Championship last season so maybe, just maybe, they don’t know everything after all?  Seriously, it makes you wonder just how much these people get paid to simply predict at the start of every season that all three promoted teams will go back down and that Manchester United or Chelsea will win the title?

 

It may sound like I have a chip on my shoulder and you could point to the fact that we have the smallest budget in the Premier League, or that we have the smallest squad, the second smallest ground, the smallest population or another you could use is that we have only spent £3.85m (declared fees) improving a team that finished 5^th in the Championship but I can assure you that there are reasons for our optimism.

 

The main one has to be Owen Coyle.  Owen is literally worshipped around these parts and, though in danger of sounding like Newcastle United fans, has been more popularly known simply as God.  Partly this is because of our promotion and the cup runs last season but also because of the man himself. Owen Coyle is infectiously positive, enthusiastic, articulate, honourable and most of all a gentleman.  He took a middling Championship side of average second tier players whose fans were beginning to lose interest and turned them into promotion contenders by playing quick passing football and all on a tight budget.  It was nothing short of a miracle.

 

That’s not to say we don’t have talented players either.  Robbie Blake is perhaps one of the most naturally gifted footballers never to have made it in the Premiership.  Despite having the touch, skill and vision of a truly world class footballer his lack of pace and physique has held him back throughout his career but under Coyle he’s been nothing short of magical.  There isn’t just Robbie either, Chris McCann, Chris Eagles, Wade Elliot, Martin Paterson, Kevin McDonald and Jay Rodriguez are all more than capable of making the step up not to mention old heads like Graham Alexander, Brian Jensen and Steven Caldwell and I haven’t even mentioned our new signings.

 

There’s been a lot of condescending and patronising stuff written in the papers over the close season about Burnley as a town and as a club but there’s also been a lot of positives.  I’m under no illusions, it’s going to be tough but we can do it.  If Owen Coyle can keep the same spirit the team had last season and play the same brand of exciting attacking football then who knows? Besides, at a glance this seems to be one of the poorest Premier Leagues in a while.  All of the top four have stagnated and there seems to be a few clubs in trouble too, notably Portsmouth and Hull City.  Not to mention the usual relegation battlers, the other two promoted teams and maybe a second season syndrome for Stoke.

 

In short, we have every chance of staying up and the only ones that can write us off are ourselves. So that’s you told Lawro!

Chances are that you heard of Florence Welch a long time before you actually heard any of her music.  The latest product hot off of the industry hype machine, it seems Florence has taken her time about releasing her debut album, honing her sound, style and image in the mean time. 

 

This is no bad thing however as the Florence + the Machine we hear on ‘Lungs’ is highly polished without losing any of her idiosyncratic unruly eccentricity.  At college Florence immersed herself in the vibrant London punk scene of the earlier part of this decade and it certainly shows in tracks like ‘Kiss With A Fist’ and ‘Girl With One Eye’.  This is the strange thing about Florence she’s difficult to pin down, being part punk, a big part soul, another part folk, a little bit indie and all very much pop.

 

Florence + the Machine are bound to be compared to the likes of Little Boots, La Roux, Ladyhawke, Lilly Allen and even Kate Nash but this is unfair on all parties.  The only thing they have in common is a willingness to embrace electronic instruments to varying degrees and of course their gender which I assume is the key basis for the vast majority of comparisons.  They’re all uniquely creative, well nearly all (cough cough Kate Nash) and ought to be dealt with as such.  The only legitimate comparison, though it maybe base is their looks and in full awareness of any irony and consequence I vote for Florence (she has lovely legs) in that particular debate.

 

So, back to the music; as I’ve already mentioned Florence has a patch-worked style and substance.  There are obvious album highlights in ‘Dog Days Are Over’, Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)’, ‘Kiss With A Fist’ and ‘80s dance cover ‘You Got the Love’ and each wonderfully exhibits a different quality which is quite rare in these days of compartmentalising music. Her structures and arrangements oscillate from quirky delicacy to archetype pop via euphoria and indie chord progressions.

 

One constant throughout however, is Florence Welch’s vocal strength, grace and dexterity.  At times during her early demos, towards the higher end of her range, she had a propensity to descend into incomprehensible warbling but this no longer seems to be a problem. No more so noticeable than during the albums’ first two tracks which both have the ability to make your hairs stand on end, such is her vocal performance.

 

Truth is I’m a little late with this review and by now you probably know all of this. I was hoping to comment on a star in the making but such is the momentum of her career Florence + the Machine are already there.

My hair’s already starting to go grey, I’m putting weight on, I have asthma as well as eczema and now I have a build up of wax in my ears (attractive I know) and have to put olive oil in there three times a day for the next three weeks and then twice a week from then on.  What’s happening to me?! I’m only 22!

 

But should I really be surprised? Like a lot of people I’ve ignored all the health risks and warnings. I was raised on a typical diet of x, chips and baked beans, with x usually being either sausage, a pie, Bernard Mathews’ turkey drummers or some other sort of frozen processed meat (I’d even known the delights of the turkey twizzler in my youth). I took little exercise (until recently) and although I’ve never smoked (barring the occasional cigar), I started drinking at 15 and still drink much more than is recommended (finances permitting). 

 

If I’m honest these changes to my body in adult life have shocked me and so recently I’ve tried to live a healthier lifestyle, cooking fresh meals, getting more exercise and drinking more water but I still listen to my iPod too loud, often don’t drink enough water, don’t eat my 5-a-day, eat too much fat and salt, don't do 20 minutes exercise a day and I still drink more than is recommended.

 

Then again, who doesn’t?  I don’t know anyone who follows all the health advice available and if I did would they be absolutely insufferable?  I love food and although my diet has significantly improved since my childhood, nothing beats a donner kebab at the end of a Saturday night after a few beers and a full-English the morning after.  I even enjoy exercise but let’s face it sometimes you just can’t be arsed.

 

I suppose my point is, yes you could live an impeccable life but would it really make you happier? I’m sure there’ll be plenty of health nuts who tell you resoundingly yes but is there not an extent of doublethink in this? I’m not advocating a decadent lifestyle of greed, excess, laziness and ignorance but is it not better to be somewhere in the middle? Take both sides in moderation and just enjoy your life I say. 

I absolutely loved Transformers as a boy. Every single morning before school I was glued to it. The faintest sound of that awesome theme tune would instantly make my Mum groan. I loved it. My favourite Transformers were the Decepticons Starscream and Soundwave.  I know they were the ‘baddies’ but Soundwave had the coolest voice ever and I was a keen supporter of Starscream’s protracted leadership challenge against Megatron (I never liked Megatron with his whiney voice, milk-carton body and most of all he transformed into a gun.  I’m sorry but fighter jet trumps gun hands down).

 

So, understandably, I was excited when the new films were announced.  I thought the first film did a good job. It stayed faithful to the old cartoons (it had ‘the noise’), the Transformers were likeable, it had some funny moments, the fight scenes were epic and Megan Fox was hot. All was good.  It only made me more excited for the next instalment. 

 

For the last two years my excitement has bubbled and I’ve constantly speculated about the plot for the new film.  Will Megatron be revived as Galvatron?  Will Soundwave be in it? How about the Dinobots? Will it turn out that the Transformers built the pyramids? Actually I didn’t expect that last one. Do you know why? Because it’s fucking shit. What an original plot development that is.  Frankly it’s on a par with having Sam Witwicky wake up at the end and it had all been a dream.

 

If only my disappointment stopped with the plot though.  They really did go for it on the comedy front this time around and although some moments did make me laugh, in my opinion they pushed it a little too far and spoilt the film.  It was all a bit too Gremlins 2 for me.  Another problem I had was with Michael Bay’s directing style.  Look Michael, I came specifically to watch massive robots knock each other about and bash the other’s robots’heads in and I’d appreciate it if you could keep the camera still for a second so I could actually see what was going on.

 

I do have a couple of good things to say about Transformers 2 though.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen better use of slow motion shots for one and I was pleased with how they’d managed to update Soundwave although his voice wasn’t anywhere near as cool.

On the coach back from Wembley just a short few weeks ago I was an example of optimism, confident that Burnley could surprise a few people in the Premier League. I clearly remember talking up the Clarets chances of emulating the sort of debut season Ipswich, Reading and Wigan have had in the recent past: no longer.

 

Owen Coyle’s men have been dealt Stoke (A), Manchester United (H), Everton (H), Chelsea (A) and Liverpool (A) as their first five Premier League fixtures. That’s four of last seasons top five in a row after an opening day six-pointer away against a side with one of last seasons best home records. Gulp, welcome to the Premier League Burnley.

 

On paper we could easily be rock bottom cast adrift at the foot of the table by the time the Clarets make their way to Ewood Park on the 17^th October so it’s a good job football isn’t played on paper (we wouldn’t even be in this division if it were). Again we just have to put our faith in Owen Coyle’s ability to work little football miracles. I believe.

 

Up the Clarets

This is my first post in a while, thanks to a certain Mr Coyle I’ve been in a daze for the last few weeks but I’m coming down now so I’m ready to get back into the swing of things. What I will say though is that I had a very good time at the gig, perhaps too good a time and I don’t actually remember large parts of it so sorry if I’m a bit vague (that’s why I’ve not had the cheek to call this a review)!  

 

First I think I’ll spare a few words for the support bands and opening up was Twisted Wheel… actually, on second thoughts when you’ve got nothing positive to say maybe you just shouldn’t say anything at all.  So, The Enemy… hmm ok, you got me again. Kasabian then! They were good.  Kasabian once again proved themselves to be an excellent live band. It’s a shame for them that they get pigeon holed as a ‘lad’ band and grouped with people like The Enemy because they have so much more to offer.  Kasabian have a certain live spark that other bands would kill for.  New single ‘Fire’ was and I use the word reluctantly, anthemic and all the old hits were there too.  Kasabian were the only support band on the day to get an unequivocal thumbs up.

 

Oasis might not have made a good album for over a decade but there’s no doubting their ability to make thousands of people gather in a field singing with one arm aloft and the other drunkenly draped around their friends shoulder.  To add to that, as a band they are nothing special and Liam’s voice has gone but not one person cares.  In fact the majority of the set was sung by the crowd and not the Gallaghers anyway so it hardly matters.  They seem to have transcended their music and become something else entirely.  I’d guess that many people didn’t go to see Oasis play at all, instead they went for the occasion and to relive the 1990s. Oasis could have been terrible (they possibly were I don’t remember!) and it wouldn’t have mattered. 

 

An Oasis gig is now more like one of those civil war battle re-creations were people dress in period clothes (baggy t-shirts and floppy hats) and drink lots of lager whilst a band plays authentic music from the era. Everyone has a good time and then it’s back to work the next day.

 

PS If you weren’t sure, Twisted Wheel and The Enemy were shit beyond comprehension.

Let’s face facts now.  Labour are, to all intents and purposes, fucked.  If they were a pet, they’d have been put down.  They’ve passed on! The Labour government is no more! It has ceased to be! It has expired and gone to meet its maker! It’s a stiff! Bereft of life, it rests in peace! If Gordon Brown hadn't been nailed to the dispatch box he'd be pushing up the daisies! The government’s metabolic processes are now history! They’re off the twig! They’ve kicked the bucket; Labour’s shuffled off its mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible!! LABOUR ARE AN EX-GOVERNMENT!!

 

So what now? Our electoral first past the post system means that the next government will inevitably be a Conservative one.  Oh Balls!... no not you Ed, you carry on knotting up those nooses, there’s a good boy.  So what about those of us that think the only thing worse than a Cameroonian cabinet is Brown’s current brigade blindly limping on?  The answer to that is, unfortunately, absolutely nothing.  Sure, we could vote for the Liberal Democrats but what would be the point in that?  You may as well vote for that independent candidate who’s decided to stand dressed as Superman for all the good that that would do!

 

This is a depressing situation but it is one which is inevitable.  It may be a cynical view but governments are unfalteringly self-serving and no party in power would ever do anything to curb the extent of its own hegemony.  Besides, ideologically both Labour and Conservatives are set against the idea.  The Conservatives have a simple and innate love for control and Labour just refuse to accept that the British public could ever possibly want any other party in power and if by some strange miracle they think  that they do then either Labour needs to ‘re-connect’ with its voters, or alternatively, to better educate them. So where’s the motivation for either party to reform the electoral system?

 

It simply isn’t going to happen. All I want is to have a choice and for my vote to COUNT, is that too much to ask for?  Imagine a Britain where it wasn’t a straight choice between Labour and Tory at the ballot box, a more democratic Britain where you could have a choice, be represented and have a means of better holding the government to account, wouldn’t that be nice? The parties aren’t there at this moment in time to successfully fill out such a system but hopefully, in the fullness of time, single-issue, marginal and credibility-challenged parties like UKIP, the Greens, Veritas, Respect and the BNP would be replaced by more rounded, respectable and ideologically defined parties.    

 

However, for the foreseeable future at least, PR remains just a pipedream for the disillusioned and so, for the mean time, I think it would be wisest for us all to just cross our fingers and hope that Dave isn’t that bad after all!

 

This Sunday the final round of Championship games will be contested and for the first time in seven years my beloved Burnley are in with a shout of making the play-offs.  When the Clarets run out to the rapturous cries of a sold out Turf Moor to face last season’s play-off finalists Bristol City, Burnley fans will have one man to thank; the ever positive and articulate Scot, Owen Coyle (or God as he’s been renamed round these parts!).

 

The job done by Owen Coyle since taking over from Steve Cotterill eighteen months ago has been nothing short of remarkable.  It all augured well from the Paisley man’s first few games in charge which included early wins against promotion chasing Watford, Charlton and Wolves.  Since then Coyle has quickly fashioned an honest and hardworking team priding themselves on a quick passing game utilising the flair and creativity of players such as the veteran magician Robbie Blake and the flashy Chris Eagles. 

 

There have been lows throughout Coyle’s short reign such as the 4-1 away reverse to Sheffield Wednesday on the opening day of the season which was quickly followed up by a 3-0 home defeat to Ipswich and there was also the five straight league defeats following Christmas but my have we had some highs as well! After Sunday’s fixture Burnley will have played an amazing 58 matches due to the clubs two impressive cup runs featuring wins against Fulham, Chelsea, Arsenal and WBA.  The club were in fact only denied a showpiece Wembley final by two late Tottenham extra-time goals in the Carling Cup semi-final after the Lancashire club had overcome a 4-1 deficit from the first leg at White Hart Lane.

 

As exciting as the cup runs have been though the real success Burnley fans crave is in the league and a return to the top flight of English football after thirty-three years in the doledrums and on Sunday Burnley could take one step further towards achieving that goal.  Whether Burnley do so or not is entirely in their own hands.  A win against Bristol City or the failure of Lancashire rivals Preston North End to win at Deepdale against QPR would secure their place.  We all know that reaching the play-offs is only half the job done but with Burnley’s record this season in pressurised cup games I think the team would be quietly confident if they were to get the required result on Sunday.

 

One thing for certain is that Burnley are in great hands whatever their result against Bristol City.  Owen Coyle has shown the fantastic ability to fashion a quality side from meagre resources and even if sales are forced in the event that Burnley don’t make the play-offs, fans can be confident that Coyle can use the money wisely as he did with the big money sale of Kyle Lafferty to Rangers last summer.  Off the field also the club is well run by Messrs Kilby, Flood and Fletcher and there are also signs that the old Burnley conveyor belt has begun chugging into life once more as this season the club offered five youth team players professional contracts, amongst them the goal machine Wes Fletcher, to follow in the footsteps of recent graduates Chaplow, McCann, Lafferty, Rodriguez, MacDonald and Kay.

 

The brink of the Premier League is a far cry from the bleak prospect the club faced at the end of the 1986/’87 season when club came within one game of dropping out of the Football League entirely, twenty seven years after winning the old Division One Championship. Since then the club have slowly climbed the divisions and have now firmly established themselves in the Championship since promotion from Division Two under Stan Ternent (feat. Ian Wright) in 2000 and given themselves a fantastic chance of reaching the top flight.  Although the Credit Crunch must be a concern and the recession has already been felt at Burnley as plans for a £20 million redevelopment of the clubs stadium and training facilities have had to be put on hold.

 

Anyway this was supposed to be a piece about how great Owen Coyle is so I’ll leave you with a series of ‘facts’ regarding Owen Coyle posted recently on a Burnley message board:

 

            “Owen Coyle CAN believe it’s not butter”

“When Owen Coyle does press ups he doesn’t push himself up, he pushes the Earth down”

“Owen Coyle does not need sleep, sleep needs Owen Coyle”

“Owen Coyle was once in a knife fight… the knife lost”

“Owen Coyle sends Father Christmas presents”

“Owen Coyle once won a game of Connect 4 in three moves”

“Owen Coyle can do a wheely on a uni-cycle”

“Owen Coyle isn’t scared of the dark, the dark is scared of Owen Coyle”

“Owen Coyle is not politically correct, he is just correct.  Always”

“Owen Coyle pities Mr T.”

“Superman wears Owen Coyle pyjamas”

 

 

Okay so I’m a bit late on this one but it’s taken me a long time to make my mind up about Dananananaykroyd and to be honest I’m still not entirely there.  My first draft of this review simply read;

 

 “Dananananaykroyd – Scottish, mental and brilliant”

 

But I thought I ought to try and be a bit more constructive than that. 

 

First of all let’s talk about that name.  Personally I love it, yes it’s a bit stupid but it’s fun and as soon as you press play you’ll realise that that’s what Dananananaykroyd are all about.  The band have been labelled as ‘fight pop’ by some music journalists but I don’t think that’s particularly helpful.  Perhaps more accurate would be pop-metal, as suggested by the title of recent single ‘Pink Sabbath’. 

 

If you’re looking for some deftly crafted melodies or poignant lyrics then you’re going to be left slightly disappointed.   Dananananaykroyd are energy, emotion and fun.  The lyrics are merely a series of inaudible whelps and cries which sound great screamed through singer Calum Gunn‘s thick Glaswegian accent.  The drums (Dananananaykroyd have two drummers!) and guitars are thick and heavy but if you listen closely, underneath the blanket of noise there are some delicate parts and constructions which should give ‘Hey Everyone’ a bit of longevity when inevitably the novelty of shouty Scottish pop-metal wears off.

 

At a time of the year when bands will be vying to soundtrack the forth coming summer, Dananananaykroyd are certainly a good shout for that particular accolade. 

 

My personal picks from ‘Hey Everyone’:

            ‘Watch This!’

            ‘Black Wax’

            ‘Totally Born’

            ‘Pink Sabbath’

            ‘Some Dresses’

 

Having seen FHM's top 10 sexiest woman (I didn't buy it honest, I'm not 15!), it didn't really do anything for me.  I like abit more than fake tan and an air-brushed figure to get my pulse racing! So with that in mind I thought I would compile my own unscientific, entirely subjective and ever-so-slightly sexist list!

10 - Billie Piper
9 - Christine Bleakley
8 - Kiera Knightley
7 - Zooey Deschanel
6 - Holly Willoughby
5 - Natalie Portman
4 - Rosamund Pike
3 - Emilia Fox
2 - Sophie Winkleman
1 - Di Stewart

(***This is the final installment. If you missed parts 1 & 2 then scroll down.(***)

Part Three – Subway’s Revenge

Martin slowly opened his eyes.  At first he struggled to determine where he was.  He had had a strange dream where he was being chased through a field by two giant sandwiches.  Martin shook away the image and leant across for the glass of water on his bedside table.  He checked the clock it was 5:30am.  He took a large gulp of his water and settled back down under his covers but it wasn’t long before he began to feel uneasy.  Sobered slightly, he could remember the tequila he had been drinking and the horrible brightly coloured liquid.  Martin shuddered and then remembered the Subways!  His insides gurgled loudly and he clenched, holding his stomach tightly.  He did not feel well at all.  He tried to sit up again for another drink of water but the motion made his stomach worse.  Slowly he sipped at the water.  That felt better.  He was ok, he thought, I’ll just drink this water and sleep it off but the more he drank the more queasy he became.  Still clutching his stomach Martin tried to take his mind off it by checking his phone.

“1 new message” was displayed brightly on the screen.  Martin clicked on it and a message sent at 2am from Robert flashed up.

“Wher arm your m#atey1 I getin sum more Frinks!!!”

          Martin tried to chuckle but by now he was feeling very, very sick.  He was trying his best not to give in to the demands of his body.  He was NOT going to be sick he thought to himself, it’s ok, breathe!  It was then that he realised he was beginning to sweat.  He reached over the side of his bed in search of something to wipe his forehead with but he couldn’t find anything and the more he moved the more sickly he became.  His last hope, Martin resolved, was simply to stay still and ride it out but he couldn’t.  He could feel something beginning to rise up inside of him.  Martin jumped up out of his bed and dashed to the bathroom, threw up the toilet seat and thrust his head over the bowl.  His stomach tightened as the two foot long Subways had their revenge.  Martin was your typical young man and of course he had been sick through alcohol before but not like this.  Nothing like this.  After ten or so minutes Martin flushed the toilet exhaustedly, slumped back onto the bathroom floor, wiped his brow with his t-shirt and closed his eyes.  He was soon fast asleep again.

 

          It was the dawn that woke him up the next morning.  The bright spring time sun shone brilliantly through the small bathroom window and rested on his face until slowly, Martin began to open his eyes.

          “Uhhh” he groaned before pulling himself up by holding on to the bath.  Martin’s head was banging.  He looked around.  What was he doing in the bathroom he thought to himself?  Martin got steadily on to his feet and stumbled dazed and confused downstairs.  When he had gotten to the bottom he stretched, yawned and walked into the kitchen where his Mum, his Dad and his sister Jo were sat.  As he entered the room, each and every one of them turned to look at him with a combination of disappointment and disgust.  Sticking out of the top of the bin he could see two scrunched up Subway wrappers and looking back to his family he truly felt ashamed.

         

 

 

The End.

           

 

(*** If you missed Part One scroll down***)

Part Two – Subway

   

Ignite, a spacious converted factory, was the main nightspot in the town and was a magnet for all types of people.  It was similarly set out to The Mix but on a much larger scale and inside was playing the same monotonous music, however, fortified by tequila it somehow sounded much better and all the boys found themselves uncontrollably nodding their heads slightly and swaying along to the hypnotic beat of the music. 

At first it had seemed that they would have to change their plans as the short woman on the door had insisted on each of them paying £6 each to enter but Robert, in a not unusual drunken burst of generosity decided to pay the other two boys in, saving the night.  As soon as they had entered Ignite, Robert had gone off to find Sarah and returned roughly five minutes later with her, plus six bottles of cheap blue alcohol.  During the day blue liquid would not have looked particularly appealing but given the amount of alcohol in their systems, the bright colour was strangely enticing.  Martin and Andy drunkenly stuttered a quick hello to Sarah, a slim and pretty girl with long brown hair and took a bottle each from Robert.

After having drunken a series of bottles containing various coloured alcohols Martin admitted to himself that he was beginning to feel very drunk.  Propped up against a column he could barely make out the blurry shapes of Robert and Sarah dancing together and Andy dancing alone twisting and turning gracelessly with his eyes closed.  Suddenly he realised that he hadn’t eaten for around seven hours and his stomach let out a low grumble.  He made to go and tell the others that he was leaving but seeing Robert and Sarah kissing and Andy on another planet he decided just to go, they wouldn’t mind if he just snuck off.

 

Once outside, Martin made his way, stepping as necessary over several strewn and abandoned kebabs, almost automatically towards their usual takeaway, Bibi’s.  However, after staring up and trying hard to focus on the menu he realised that he didn’t much fancy a kebab, a burger or a pizza.  Instead he thought that he would be much more content with just a sandwich so turning on the spot and leaving the busy takeaway he made the fateful decision to get his food, instead, from Subway. 

Subway was only a short walk across the road and so within a matter of moments he was inside, again focussing his blurry eyes hard on the menu.  He found himself drawn towards the Meatball Marinara sub but he knew that he would regret it if he didn’t like it as he usually ordered a Turkey Subway Melt with BBQ sauce, a sandwich he knew that he definitely liked.  All the same, he could not get the Meatball Marinara out of his head and when the scruffy waitress asked what he would like Martin was caught firmly between two minds.

“Erm…” he stuttered, swaying slightly.  “I’ll have a…. foot long Meatball Marinara, hiccup, with cheese, toasted on Italian bread please with err… onions and peppers.” Then, after a few seconds he blurted out drunkenly.

“No.  Sorry, can I have a Turkey Subway Melt, toasted in Italian bread with BBQ sauce, onions and peppers, hiccup?”

          Martin shuffled along the counter clumsily texting on his mobile phone, not noticing what was going on.

          “£9.20 please” the waitress said with a weary and forced politeness.

          £9.20? That seemed like a lot but he was too drunk to argue so instead he passed over a crumpled ten pound note, said thank you and got into a conveniently placed taxi outside and told the driver his address.

 

          It wasn’t until Martin got home that he realised why his Subway had been so much.  Inside his bag were two foot long Subway sandwiches, one Meatball Marinara and one Turkey Subway Melt! He slumped down into his living room chair, switched on the television and carefully unwrapped one of his Subway sandwiches.  He certainly was hungry and thought to himself that he would eat what he could and then leave the rest in the fridge for his dinner tomorrow.  It was okay, he wouldn’t waste it he reassured himself.  Fifteen minutes later however, Martin switched off his television and began to make his way up to bed, on the floor lay two empty Subway wrappers.  He had eaten them both!

          When he entered his bedroom Martin went to turn on his laptop.  He was thinking of emailing his girlfriend Suzie as seeing Robert with Sarah had made him miss her but after tripping up over a pair of shoes he decided that maybe it was for the best if he just simply went straight to bed.  He put on some shorts and a t-shirt that were laying on the floor, brushed his teeth and set a glass of water next to his black rimmed spectacles by the side of his bed before settling down to sleep.  He checked the alarm clock on his spinning bed side table, it was 3am.

The single biggest mistake Art Brut have made in their short career was in not putting a gigantic sticker on their debut album with bold yellow lettering saying; “WARNING do not take too seriously”.  Alas, they didn’t and half the people who heard such brilliant singles such as ‘Emily Kane’ and ‘Formed A Band’ dismissed Art Brut as some Nathan Barley bollocks (a disappointing second album didn’t help) when in fact they were just a fantastic pop band with a sense of humour who didn’t take themselves too seriously.  It seems to have gotten to them too with Eddie shouting halfway through ‘Art Brut vs. Satan’, “how am I supposed to sleep at night when no one likes the music we write?”  Don’t worry though Art Brut haven’t gone all self-deprecating and spiteful. 

 

‘Art Brut vs. Satan’ is thirteen witty pop songs delivered in their instantly recognisable fashion.  The danger was that Eddie Argos’ delivery would wear a little thin by LP three but thankfully it hasn’t.  Yes he has a lot of repetitive vocal affectations and inflectations, which are hard to dispel given his original spoken word delivery, but what successful pop singer doesn’t adopt signature ticks and melodies? Would Liam Gallagher be as recognisable without the old ‘sunshiiiiiiinnnnneeeee’?  So I can’t accept that that’s necessarily a bad thing and the lyrics more than make up for any lack of actual singing.

 

For me at least, Art Brut have always been about Eddie Argos.  Every one of Art Brut’s songs is like having a funny conversation with a witty charismatic drunk set to music.  Maybe that’s giving a disservice to the rest of the band who do provide a lot of great moments on ‘Art Brut vs. Satan’ (particularly their new role as Eddie’s backing singers!) but personally I could listen to Eddie Argos even if he was backed by a band of deaf mating cats and annoying mobile ring tones.  So if you’ll forgive me, I’ll be concentrating mainly on the lyrics.  A quick word on the music first though.  The songs are a little harder than ‘It’s A Bit Complicated’ but overall they’re much more accessible and instantly enjoyable.  The band recorded ‘Art Brut vs. Satan’ in two weeks, an album that contains the line, “why would you want to sound like U2 when you can just press record and play it straight through?” so as you’d expect there’s a strong punk sound throughout but really if you’ve heard Art Brut before there isn’t anything revolutionary here.

 

So, lyrics, where to start? How about, “Slept on my face I woke up confused.  I’m a bit concerned about what I’ve been up to.  There’s so many people I might have upset, I apologised to them all with the same group text.  Bring me tea! Bring me coffee!” (Alcoholics Unanimous) or, “Life is especially hard when no one trusts you with a credit card.  I love the taste of cereal I had it for almost every meal.  Five people to a tea bag?  My life never really got that bad not while we still had DC comics and chocolate milkshake (some things will always be great/even though I’m 28/I guess I’m just developing late/I never got over that amazing taste!) (DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshake)? No? Okay then how about, “Some people hate the bus not me I can’t get enough. Some people live in the fast lane not me I take the train.  I love public transportation, train or bus they’re both amazing!” (The Passenger) or even, “another time I overheard you saying that you were going into town and at the time I lived right in between two towns but I wasn’t quite sure which one you meant so I bought a bus pass and went to both of them and tried to look for you everywhere and when I finally saw you in WH Smiths I got scared” (Am I Normal?)?  And those are just the first four tracks!

 

As you’ve probably guessed from my very unprofessional and rather slanted review I am a big fan of Art Brut.  They are quite a divisive band though and you either love them or you think that they’re a bit stupid.  I don’t think ‘Art Brut vs. Satan’ will do anything to change that but if you’ve never heard Art Brut before then you should definitely give them a listen as they’re one of the finest and under-rated fun pop bands around.  

Martin Lippi
and the Twin Subways of Death

 
Part One – Tequila

(Note to reader: although the events of this short story are based on true events the character's names have been changed to avoid embarrassment.  I will give you a clue though, I am one of the boys in the story, I hope you enjoy our tale!)

Martin Lippi calmly placed his black rimmed spectacles back onto the end of his nose and moved slowly towards the window.  Martin was a ruggedly handsome and athletic young man, the wildness of his Sicilian roots were clearly visible in the complexion of his angular face and in the dark colour of his long Beatles-esque hair.  He gently separated the curtains and peered anxiously out of the window.  Stood outside were two casually dressed and equally anxious looking young men.  One of them waved cautiously as he saw Martin’s face appear at the window and a few moments later Martin reappeared, dressed in jeans and a smart looking t-shirt, and stepped out of his blue front door, locked it and turned to face the two young men.

“O’right?” he asked brightly, “we off then?”

The three boys turned and began to make their way jovially into town.  As they passed the old College building which was lit up in the moonlight they began to discuss the night ahead.  Andy, the one who had waved at Martin earlier, was dressed in dark blue jeans, trainers and wore a striped blue t-shirt underneath a grey cardigan.  He too (as had all the three boys) had a styled mop of Beatles-esque hair yet his had begun to grey slightly, his deep green eyes sparkled as he said.

          “I reckon we should have a few tequilas tonight.  What d’you think?  It did the trick the other night!”

The other boy who had met Martin at his home, Robert, who was dressed more smartly than Martin and Andy in a neatly ironed black shirt and brown pointy shoes and whose Beatles mop had been straightened to cover over where his hair had begun to recede, didn’t look overly keen but before he could express his concern Martin had leapt in.

          “Yeah!” he exclaimed excitedly as the three young men turned a corner.  If only he had known at this moment what horrors were to await him maybe he would not have been so enthusiastic about the idea after all.

         

          After queuing up for several minutes in the cold outside a cash machine the three young men Martin, Robert and Andy approached a modern looking bar just off from the main road in the town centre and with a courteous nod to the two cheaply suited door men they entered.  Martin and Robert sat down in two of three comfortable leather chairs which were arranged roughly around a tall glass table whilst Andy went to the bar to order drinks.  Martin scanned his surroundings.  The bar was called The Mix and it was a soullessly modern establishment decked in predictably contemporary furniture and décor with an expensive sound system playing monotonous and tinny dance classics at high volume, however, compared to many of the town’s other licensed premises The Mix was more than welcoming.

          A group of daringly dressed young women had just grabbed Martin’s attention when Andy returned smiling idiotically and clutching three pints of lager followed by a blonde barmaid holding a tray upon which was placed three small shot glasses filled to the top with tequila, a glass tumbler holding three pieces of lemon and a salt dispenser.  Robert grimaced as the barmaid slid the shot glass in front of him, said thank you and took a nervous sip of his cool beer.  Martin was already excitedly administering salt to his left hand and Andy had neatly arranged the shot glass and the lemon next to each other in front of him in anticipation.

          “On the count of three” said Martin eagerly, “one, two, three!”

          Martin, Robert and then Andy (who was still adjusting the angle between his tequila and his lemon) licked the salt from their left hands, tipped the contents of the small glasses into their mouths and, as fast as they could, stuffed the lemon into their mouths before the harsh bite of the tequila could kick in.  In turn each of them pulled a contorted wincing face and took a large gulp of their beer.

          “Another?” asked Andy, that ridiculous grin re-emerging once more.

          “Damn right!” replied Martin fervently.

          “Ughh, it wasn’t so bad… yeah why not?!” said Robert with growing enthusiasm.

         

Several more times this ritual was repeated until the tall glass table in front of them was full with used lemon slices, empty shot glasses, stray salt and pint glasses which had, for a brief period of time, held beer.  Stumbling slightly, the three boys, one by one, visited the men’s room before deciding together which place they should go to next.  Eventually, they all decided upon going to Ignite, a large night club on the outskirts of the town centre.  It was a Friday and Ignite had three for two promotions on all bottles and it was this which had helped sway the argument along with the fact that Robert would be able to meet up with his girlfriend Sarah once inside.  This settled, Martin, Robert and Andy rose up out of their comfortable leather seats, steadied themselves briefly and strode out into the cool night air.

After the G20 summit last week President Obama heralded in the New World Order and yesterday a senior British official used the term again in reference to Tony Blair’s campaign to become the first EU President.  Now, the new world order that they are referring to maybe one more of a re-adjusted worldwide consensus for multi-lateral co-operation rather than a secret group of 12 foot lizards that are secretly controlling the world’s governments but, still, is it not a bit naive and irresponsible for senior politicians and civil service staff to be using such a politically loaded phrase?  It certainly struck me as odd in the very least.

 

In the age of the internet, conspiracy theorists have entertained an ever growing and attentive audience and as a result the originally ambiguous and tame tag, ‘New World Order’, often used harmlessly to refer to a shift in global power and ideas, such as after the second world war or the collapse of communism, has taken on progressively rather more sinister connotations and politicians should be aware of this.  It is unhelpful at a time when political apathy and mistrust is widespread for politicians to use terms that will undoubtedly be pounced upon by cynics and used to confirm and entrench their views.    

 

Although ‘New World Order’ theories range from the menacing to the ridiculous their opinions are reasonably popular and this should be taken into account.  ‘New World Order’ is now a term which is always going to evoke a hysterical reaction in certain quarters and you’d think that in an age where politicians are as much concerned with image, spin and PR as they are policies that they would be aware of what they are saying? We’ve re-branded everything else, so why not re-brand the ‘New World Order’?

I'm sure you will all agree that this decade has been the greatest decade for popular music since the invention of the electric guitar.  We have been truly blessed with several great bands and so to celebrate, here's my countdown of the three most inspirational and innovative bands of this century (so far!).

3 - Coldplay.  Although Coldplay are perhaps not the best band of the century they still manage to clinch the first place on my list mainly because of Chris Martin's important work outside the band which has re-defined our entire perception of the musician.  Before Coldplay, musicians had often been arrogant and detached from reality but shunning the popular rock star stereotype, Chris Martin single handedly developed a fresh and more likeable image for musicians in the philanthropic rock star, re-inventing what it was to be in a band.  Coldplay's musical contribution is also not to be dismissed with the band creating what is now commonly known as the ballad, another first for the band. 

2 - The Kaiser Chiefs.  Perhaps the most original band since the 1960s, The Kaiser Chiefs were both inspirational and supremely innovative.  In the lyrics of their debut album, Employment, The Kaisers tackled social issues (I Predict a Riot), religion (Oh My God) and existentialism (Na Na Na Na) which was fused incredibly successfully with a truly experimental musical outlook, becoming one of the first bands to combine an electronic keyboard with the traditional guitar sound.  As if that wasn't enough the Kaiser Chiefs also managed to create one of the most original and exciting stage shows since Pink Floyd with each band member adopting a caricatured persona (one even wore a hat) and lead singer Ricky Wilson interacting with the audience something which had never been tried before.

1 - The Enemy.  When The Enemy released the seminal 2007 album 'We'll Live and Die in These Towns' they stepped up to officially become the greatest living artists on the planet. WLADITT managed to transcend popular music entirely achieving a plane of incisive political-social commentary that had never been touched before by musicians.  The Enemy are often compared to the little known 70s band The Jam but I think that this gives a great disservice to their unparalleled genius.  In fact, The Enemy are much more comparable to literary visionaries such as George Orwell, Aldous Huxley and William Blake.  In short, The Enemy are now the greatest band of all time and that's why they top my list.

The Rakes were one of the hottest bands of 2005 but like many similar bands from that generation (See The Paddingtons, Art Brut and The Futureheads) they’ve struggled to build upon an impressive debut.  The band’s 2007 follow up to the excellent ‘Capture/Release’, ‘Ten New Messages’ was met with a lukewarm reception from both fans and critics alike.  It wasn’t that ‘Ten New Messages’ was a poor effort it was just that that style had grown stale in the two years that separated The Rakes’ albums.  That sounds ridiculous to say but remember this was a time when the NME were proclaiming new messiahs on almost a weekly basis.

 

So is ‘Klang’ a re-invention for The Rakes? No, not really. It’s typical Rakes; ten short and catchy pop-punk bursts about getting drunk, being underemployed and getting laid. It does however, somehow manage to sound fresh and improve on the band’s previous effort.  Maybe that’s because the band have managed to recapture the energy and fun of their debut or just simply that music fans are no longer swamped with similar bands but either way ‘Klang’ gets a big thumbs up.

 

The lead single to be released from ‘Klang’ is the upbeat and pleasantly nostalgic ‘1989’.  Yes the sound may be a little dated but the spirit behind these songs becomes more and more relevant everyday as times get harder.  Other album highlights are openers, ‘You’re In It’, ‘That’s The Reason’ and the inebriated sexual fumbles of ‘The light from your Mac’.  There’s no time for filler here, clocking in at around 30 minutes each track is a polished punk gem.

 

Although it's no longer 2005 and music has arguably moved on somewhat leaving The Rakes behind, ‘Klang’ shows that the London 4 - piece are still one of the best in the business at just making great indie-pop music that makes you want to go out, get drunk and have a good time and what's wrong with that?

Like all Pete’s, sorry… Peter’s, recent releases his first solo effort ‘Grace/Wastelands’ has come in for a bit of the obligatory criticism.  It seems that anything that the former Libertine does has to be either an example of his divine genius or a brutal exposure of his absolute uselessness. Neither is strictly true.

 

‘Grace/Wastelands’ is a good album, it’s nice to hear Pete without a third rate indie band behind him and instead some beautifully textured production and elegant musical arrangements for once.  Make of it what you will but a lot of the album’s finer points come in the subtle instrumental touches worked around Pete’s acoustic guitar by producer Stephen Street (Morrissey/Blur), such as the strings on ‘1939 Returning’, the organ and harmonica work on ‘A Little Death Around the Eyes’ and the jazz piano jingles of ‘Sweet By And By’.

 

As always with Pete (if you can make them out that is) the lyrics are up to his usual high standard.  ‘Salome’ for example, is an interesting modern re-telling of the biblical Oscar Wilde play of the same title and the ‘Radio America’ reminiscent ‘Lady Don’t Fall Backwards’ beautifully manages, somehow, to romanticise drug use and being on the dole.  Having said that, Pete’s vocals do sound overly delicate and at times mumbled throughout, emphasised by the acoustic atmosphere of the album which doesn’t do his voice any favours whatsoever.

 

When all is said and done ‘Grace/Wastelands’ is a collection of reheated leftovers and misfit songs so its hardly going to be a masterpiece so don’t expect too much but it is a pretty solid acoustic solo album. It’s just unfortunate that any flashes of genius here are all Stephen Steet’s and not Peter Doherty’s.   

 

 

In the past it has been the natural reaction of the left in difficult times to harden and retreat into its core socialist ideology. This however, is not the inevitable disaster that some would have you believe, any disaster in a ‘lurch to the left’ would come not from the shift itself but from its nature.  When the dust that has been whisked up so fervently by the financial crisis settles, it will reveal an altered landscape, barely recognisable from that which preceded the storm.  The politics of New Labour will no longer be relevant to this landscape but neither will any other model the left has offered previously.  This new landscape will need its own politics, uniquely tailored to its needs.  This century can be the century of the progressive left, as long as the left does not look to the past. 

The new landscape is the failure of unbridled capitalism and unchecked neo-liberal economics. In short, it is the failure of the right and represents a great opportunity to the left.  It is inevitable at this juncture that the fact that Britain has had a left wing government in the Labour party for the last 12 years will be raised.  This is true, but that was a left in a different landscape, in the new landscape the entire continuum has been moved in its favour.  When I say that this was the failure of right I do not mean it is the failure of conservative governments, it is the failure of the neo-liberal consensus that has prevailed for the last 30 years and therefore the left wing politics of this era are just as redundant and as culpable as those of the right.  New Labour’s willingness to cosy up to big business and to perpetuate the economics of the New Right has been its major criticism during its time in government (at least from the left) but this was the minimum requirement during this neo-liberal era.  I’m not saying that these are not valid criticisms but the minimum wage and Gordon Brown’s New Deal (Mk I) were examples of a pragmatic left working within its boundaries in the landscape of the right.  A new landscape however, draws new boundaries within which a more left wing agenda could be tolerated, if it is be offered.

Labour are not popular in Britain today and we certainly must not gloss over the party’s mistakes in government, nor must we right off its failures as a product of its age, but that does not mean that a re-invented left could not be successful in the future if the Labour party was to act both with confidence and conviction.  Socialism is not an overarching and constant political philosophy like conservatism; it is entirely dependant up the political landscape of the time.  The politics of ‘the middle way’ are no more relevant today than that of Attlee or Crosland are.  The left is most successful when it is pragmatic and evolves, adapting to its environment and at its least successful when it clings on to outdated models.  Brown currently, and Michael Foot in the past, have both been a testament to this fact.  Although it is far too early to judge, President Obama seems to have the right idea in offering ‘change’ and the British political left must follow suit or risk the Conservative’s  taking centre stage. 

The important question is; do the government weary ministers in the Labour government have the long term insight or the political bravery to not only survive but to flourish?  The signs do not look good.  The government seems incredibly intent on drudging desperately along towards an inevitable electoral defeat, clinging on to the failed old politics and repeating their mistakes.  The Labour party cannot let itself become paralysed with the fear of defeat nor remain ignorant to the seismic changes that have occurred.  Maybe it is simply that the party has ran out of ideas and if that is the case then there is no hope for the party but in 1994 David Miliband edited a book entitled, ‘Re-inventing the Left’, a text which helped shape the politics of New Labour, if he wants to survive he and his party must re-invent the left once more in line with the new landscape, whatever shape it takes once the dust settles.