Monday, 26 July 2010

Worth the weight?

Kenneth Tong, remember him? Of course you don’t. He was a Big Brother contestant with a trust fund and a haircut, who came not even close to winning and sank into obscurity. Until now.

Saturday, 24 July 2010

Dull 2.0

Big technology companies are selling us obsolete kit. Sorry, but that pad, phone, camera, laptop, Bluetooth, wireless web widget you just splurged half your salary on? More redundant than a manufacturing industry recruitment consultant. And that MP7 player that folds away into the top of a cigarette packet and beams 24 hour music videos onto your neighbour’s garden wall? It’s just so much landfill fodder, friend.

Friday, 23 July 2010

East Mids Girls


I'd like to talk about contrast and the ways different acts at a single event can throw each other into sharp relief. But first a few notes on the Splendour festival.

Yesterday marked the third anniversary of Nottingham City Council's pop party, held in the grounds of the glorious Wollaton Hall Park. It's a one day festival with four stages, a small fun fair and the usual smorgasboard of burger stalls, clothing traders and ice cream vans. It's a smashing occasion and the quality of the acts is way above the level one would normally expect from a modest, urban festival. Well organised, friendly and comfortable, it's a credit to the city and long may it continue.


Thursday, 22 July 2010

Say cello, wave goodbye

I like classical music. The problem is, I only like Dvorak’s ‘New World Symphony’ and Holst’s ‘The Planets’. I’m very fond of Erik Satie piano music too, but I’m not even sure that counts.

And that’s it. Of all the huge volume and vast variety of classical work, I can only manage affection for two and half recordings.

Monday, 19 July 2010

Failure to launch

I have an irrational dislike of Frank Sinatra's 'Fly Me To The Moon'. Actually, while Frankie-boy was guilty of many things, this isn't his fault. He didn't write the lyric (indeed, he never wrote a single song in his life) - and it is the lyric to which I take exception. No, it was written by Bart Howard in 1954. So what did Mr. Howard do to upset me? Let me explain.

Previously ...