The TumbleDown Dick

Sign the petition!

Oh woe is me! They shut down the Tumbledown Dick. In fact, this is old news, they shut down the Tumbly back in February.

For those of you who don't know The Tumbledown, it is (was) the best local pub in the area for live music of the alternative/rock/punk kind. OK, there's The Agincourt in Camberley and the West End Centre in Aldershot (each 5 miles away) but the Tumbledown was ours. The Tumbledown was Farnborough's own unique pub.

Farnborough is a very average British small town, population c. 45,000. Apart from Farnborough Abbey, where Napoleon III is buried, and the Farnborough Airshow, there's not much to write home about other than our once-great music venue The Tumbledown Dick with live bands and the Quarantine Club rock/alt night.

After an environmental health inspection the owners of the Tumbledown Dick, Spirit Group, decided to shut the pub. Now, after literally decades of chronic underinvestment the rumours are that the pub could become a "family friendly" pub... that sends shivers down my spine. All the other "family friendly" pubs in the area are either totally dull and all look the same or the youngest members of the family have to be gone and in bed by 8pm, leaving only the older members of the family to prop up the bar and drink crap lager.

I digress...

The Tumbledown Dick was getting better and better as a live music venue, we even had our eyes on a Smiths tribute band in July and bands booked all the way up until November... until some silly person decided to shut our favourite live music boozer!

If you're from Farnborough or nearby, if you like your live music, if you ever enjoyed a band at the Tumbledown or ever played there, or like me, you wanted to get your first gig at The Tumbledown... then please please please help out and save this pub before it goes down the pan...

Sign the petition to Spirit Group to Save the Tumbledown Dick as a live music venue!

Senser & Soul Destruction

Having nearly had my foot broken at Judo on Thursday night I strapped my left extremity up in my old German army boots and drove the posse to nearby Camberley. I'd been looking forward to this gig for weeks, the first time I'd seen a band down The Agincourt in 20 years! Last time it was The Sweet and the place was absolutely rammed. This time the bill included Tainted Grace, Primitai and of course the mighty Soul Destruction with Senser topping the bill.

Tainted Grace? Well, not my cup of emo/goth tea, sort of like Evanescence, but they're from Farnborough so I'll not hear a bad word against them (quiet, Becky)

Primitai? Musically very good, old skool metal but flying-V style guitars look so friggin' uncomfortable to play in anything other than the upright "my guitar is my penis" style. Seriously though, Primitai were good, and being local lads I'm sure we will see them again soon. OK, Becky won't, I will ;)

Soul Destruction. We love 'em. Except tonight something was amiss, not their best gig. Whether it was nerves or what, I don't know, but the sound was a bit ropey on all but a handful of songs. When the mixing desk got it right, the sound was superb, but otherwise it was not a patch on their West End Centre gig where we took our 6 year old along :)

Senser. Man, they took me back to the nineties but they're still SO relevant today. Soundwise it was right, they were tight, but why was the guitar drowned so much? They played their classic tracks like Age of Panic, Switch, States of Mind for the old-skool crowd but I was disappointed there was no Return to Zombie Island or Bomb Factories. Overall they seemd to have a really good live dance beat but lacked the visciousness that the guitar work can often add.

Yeah, that'll do. Good gig. Could do without the tinnitus though ;)

Never Mind the Bollocks, here's...

The Sex Pistols!

I helped a friend move house some months back and loaded the trusty old wagon with gear, drove from his old pad to his new pad and helped him set up in a funky little place on a high hill overlooking the picturesque town of Guildford. I refused any offers of cash or meals, just happy to help out a friend :)

When I got a txt message saying "Do you like the Sex Pistols?" I said "Hell yeah" and was then offered a ticket to see the Sex Pistols at Brixton Academy.

Man, The Cribs weren't too bad a support band, and Goldie was good on the decks for a while until we just got bored with the boom-boom-boom of drum 'n' bass... so, as much as I like and respect him & his music, I stuck my fingers up and shouted for the Pistols. We all did.

John Lydon's a fucking hero, he always has been and his on-stage addiction to Chloroseptic was 21st century punk rock! Glen Matlock's hair was getting kinda prog rock and Steve Jones ate all the pies!

Pretty Vacant, I'm a Lazy Sod, No Feelings, New York, Did You No Wrong, Liar, Holidays, Sub-Mission, Stepping Stone, No Fun, Problems, God Save the Queen, Bodies, Anarchy in the UK. I mean it, maaaan!

We stood by the mixing desk to get the best view, best sound and to avoid the flying beer but hey were fucking excellent, and I'm honoured to have seen the bastards play live.

Will I get the chance again, I dunno. But I'll let my ears stop ringing before I see them again.

Why does everything on eBay smell the same?

I'm not joking, haven't you noticed? Or am I the only one?

Everytime I order something from eBay, I open the parcel and get this same distinct aroma... seriously! Hence my question;

"why does everything on eBay smell the same?"

It's this sort of pungent sweet musty smell, like everybody from whom I've brought anything on eBay smokes Turkish or Russian cigarettes and hordes away electronic gadgetry and EE Doc Smith & Sci Fi novels in dusty corners, the treasures finally squeezed into padded Jiffy bags with one last puff of foreign-flavoured nicotine to wish the items luck on their way to the leafy suburbs of green & pleasant Hampshire.

Go on, next time you order something used from eBay, get yourself a noseful and tell me I'm right.

Anyway, I'm going to be nosey now: what was the last thing you ordered off eBay...?

Music, Music, Music

I've just had three days of music, three intense musical days...

Now I can't be arsed to write since a) I'm still recovering from the fun of it all and b) Blogger's new autosave didn't actually save what I wrote (b@st@rd). So here's some Neanderthal typing from yours truly...

• Tumbledown Dick
• Friends
• Cider
• Bands (Friend's band)
• Kebab
• Party
• Kronenberg 1664 (nasty)
• Red wine
• Xbox 360
• Mad video game, me crap
• Stagger home
• Sleep
• BMX
• Tumbledown Dick
• Friends
• Cider
• Bands (Moly, Sparrows, Menendez, The Pluto)
• Kebab
• Staggering home in rain
• Sleep
• BMX
• London
• Forget phone
• Institute of Contemporary Arts (Big word for a Neanderthal)
• iTunes Music Festival
• David Ford
• Duke Special
• Sober
• Home
• Sleep

I'll fill in all the URLs later when I get time to share ;)

Donny Tourette = Fake Punk

I was watching a repeat episode of "Never Mind the Buzzcocks" tonight and for those of you who don't know it's a brilliant British musical quizz/comedy show, or at least it was in the days of the acid-witted Mark Lamarr.

One of tonight's guests was some bloke introduced as Donny Tourette, "punk" and front man of the band "Towers of London". Now I'm usually a pretty damn good judge of character and this geezer instantly struck me as being a sham. He had this air about him, like he was playing up to the audience, pretending to be a bad boy for the cameras, sneering, and yet never quite convincing enough that he was for real.

Well, I wasn't the only one - the members of the show latched-on to the same vein and started taking the piss too. At one stage Donny Tourette, a name strangely reminiscent of Jonny Rotten or Sid Vicious, had walked away from the stage, probably for a slash. He came back and later started smoking a cigarette, to which the compère, Simon twatty whateverisnameis, said something along the lines of "Ooh, smoking! Whatever next?"

Yeah, rock and fucking roll, Donny, you're such a bad boy. And Donny? Is that short for Donald? Donald Tourette? No. His real name's Patrick Bunnyhop or something like that. Twat.

Just to prove Donny Tourette's "I'm a punk, honest" credentials, the show even played some footage of him having some sort of outburst on a documentary where he toed the "Do you know who we are?" line and came out with the fabulous quote "We dick on the Sex Pistols" Well, Donny, the Pistols were manufactured but at least they were more real than you mate, and much as I admire John Lydon I wouldn't put my dick on him, you fucking idiot.

Now just to prove I'm not just being a bitch, you might wanna check out Donny Tourette, Not Quite A Bad Boy! You've just gotta love the quotes from his former college drama teacher, like;

"The Patrick that I saw on the opening night of Celebrity Big Brother is not the Patrick I know. He was an extremely polite, well mannered boy who would always go out of his way to help others."

Yeah, punk rock, Donny! Or there's the old friend who said;

“He used to be clean-cut and a nice guy. He wasn’t the cursing, arrogant type at all. I couldn’t believe that was the same person I saw on Big Brother because he would never swear. He was really well spoken, a proper posh boy.”

Oi mate, you're fucking rumbled!

Now, to finish off check the video of Donald Patrick Bunnyhop Tourettes falling over and then roll on the floor at the comments, particularly the ones of "blah blah I'm a REAL Punk" Makes me fucking laugh that does... Unemployed, depressed & disillusioned? No future in late 1970s England have you? No? Then fuck off!

Real/Fake... Ironic isn't it?

Punk is Dead. Long Live Punk!

</rant>

Madness

"Madness, madness, they call it madness
Madness, madness, they call it madness
It's plain to see, that is what they mean to me
Madness, madness, I call it gladness

Yee-ha."

Well it was a bit mad deciding on Saturday night (post midnight) to go to Guilfest 2007 on the Sunday.

And it was a bit mad that I called a bunch of mates on Sunday morning expecting them to go at the drop of a hat.

It was even more mad that Psycho Si said "Yeah man" and was ready to rock n roll in 5 minutes.

Mad was the fact the train got cancelled leaving us an hour late to the festival.

Even more mad was that we were told this by a random person at the train station who just happened to be, as yet un-met fellow Farnborough blogger Val.

It would have driven us mad waiting for the train and twiddling our thumbs, so to go down the Prince of Wales and have a couple of pints was a great idea.

Once in Guildford I was mad at myself for not packing a waterproof jacket in my bag - rain, thunder and much wetness followed.

I bumped into my bro & his girlfriend and we hooked up with the Guildford Ghost woohoo! MAd!

But then the rain cleared, the sun came out, we ate burgers, drank beer, watched The Icicle Works, drank more beer, watched Simon Friend (from The Levellers) do an acoustic guitar set, drank some pear cider, drank some pear cider again, went down to listen to Toots & The Maytalls (first time in 20 years), drank some more pear cider, had some country music band from Texas play that honky tonk stuff in our ears whilst we ate noodles, shouted at Duke Special from the front row, got some more cider, then a gin & tonic and watched, listened and danced to the mighty MADNESS.

"NIGHT BOAT TO CAIROooooooo..."

If my BBFK and baby BBFK had been in England they have caught this show and danced their little socks off... I bet they're mad they couldn't go :p

Nine Inch Nails

I was well psyched for Nine Inch Nails at Brixton Academy on Wednesday... Me and BBFK were joined by my buddies SE and the ever-hilarious CG, after I spent a day plugged into the best of NiN's audio delights via iTunes, courtesy of my old Sony headphones chosen for their low Hz freq...

So we started with Ladytron for Hors d'œuvre, a band I suspected BBFK would have wanted to play on her show back in her DJ Chicknrock days; funnily enough she knew of 'em already and had spun a few choice plates, so that was a good guess.

Ladytron were OK, a bit drawn out for a couple of tracks, but a nice tight 5-piece, including 3 chicks, one bird on bass guitar. Nice to see but a bit delicate to hear...



Then we skipped the serving of garlic bread and went straight on to the intravenous injection of hard tunes with Trent Reznor jumping on after we'd downed a couple of crap lagers and treating us to a blinding display of vicious, hard-rocking NiN numbers. They were sharp, they were hard, they rocked the place, although I felt the crowd weren't as with it as many gigs I've been to... maybe they were suffering from the same as me... I didn't have a clue what NiN were playing for half the set.

Maybe that's my fault for getting too deep into only the dark & heady remixes and the blinding later stuff, but then I did sing-a-long to "Head Like a Hole" and lost myself in "Hurt" with the recent tracks "The Hand that feeds" and "Only" (the best NiN track ever) bringing a smile to my face. Although Becky will remind you I'm a bit deaf when it comes to the high notes I wish the sound guys hadn't overdone the amazing drums and simply bought the bass out a little bit more. Damn, did I say a little? I meant a LOT more. But then I am biased ;)

Would have liked to have heard "Metal", "Something I Can Never Have", "All the Love in the World" and "Right Where It Belongs", but then I should see NiN some more or simply get my shit together and do some covers...

I'm becoming less defined as days go by,
Fading away, well you might say I'm losing focus,
Kinda drifting into the abstract in terms of how I see myself.

Sometimes I think I can see right through myself,
Sometimes I think I can see right through myself,
...
*Sometimes I can see right through myself*

Less concerned about fitting into the world... your world that is!
'cos it doesn't really matter anymore,
No it doesn't really matter anymore,
None of this... really matters any more.

Yes, I am alone, but then again I always was,
As far back as I can tell I think maybe it's because,
Because you were never really real to begin with...

I just made you up to hurt myself,
I just made you up to hurt myself,
Yeah, and I just made you up to hurt myself,
I just made you up to hurt myself,
Yeah, and I just made you up to hurt myself.

And it worked... Yes it did!

There is no you, there is only me,
There is no you, there is only me,
There is no fucking you, there is only me,
There is no fucking you, there is only me.

Only.
Only.
Only.
Only.

Well the tiniest little dot caught my eye; it turned out to be a scab,
And I had this funny feeling, like I just knew it's something bad,
I just couldn't leave it alone,
Pickin' at that scab, it was a doorway trying to seal itself shut,
But I climbed through...

Now I am somewhere I am not supposed to be,
And I can see things I know i really shouldn't see,
And now I know why,
And now I know why,
Things aren't as pretty... on the inside.

There is no you, there is only me,
There is no you, there is only me,
There is no fucking you, there is only me,
There is no fucking you, there is only me!

Only.
Only.
Only.
Only.
Only.
Only.
Only
Only.

How can you not like Nine Inch Nails with lyrics like that? Not to mention the raw 'verbing bass line, the poetic, angsty delivery of those lines, the addictive personality...

...what if everything around you isn't quite as it seems? "Right where it belongs"... you can play that at my funeral ;)

I gotta go... it's dark...

P.S. My missus is a daft sod for not saying anything to Cate Blanchett when she bumped into her...