Hard Rock Calling; Killers in Hyde Park

Ok, what did I do to offend the weather Gods. Second successive open air gig when it has chucked it down. Not enough child sacrifices? Well sorry, but  parents get very sniffy today about having their little ones slaughtered to appease the Gods. Aztecs had a much more public spirited attitude. And probably less rain.

The other thing that struck me about the evening was how few people bother with weather forecasts. Several blokes around me were just in t-shirts and one tried to use my old newspaper to keep the rain off his hairless bonce. (The quicker amongst you may be aware of paper being rarely used for its water proof qualities, because it hasn't got any.) At least I had a raincoat to survive 5 hours in the rain.

Once more my mate's lad faced an unexpected (to him) curfew so I had to flog my spare ticket to a tout for a pretty awful return. But however bad the weather, I did at least get to see the Killers at what I strongly suspect will be their best ever. Sometimes you just go to a gig and you know the band will never be able to beat that. And that was how I felt in a rain-soaked Hyde Park. And I am sure the thousands of young people of all ages from (from pretty small kids to some of us with grey or no hair) will feel the same. If you missed this one you really missed out.

They were supported by essentially two acts, James and the Kaiser Chiefs. For those with no interest in popular beat culture, look away now, although you may learn something. (Nothing useful, but something.)

James

This lot seem to have reinvented themselves as a festival band. Tim Booth, now with trademark bald head and little beard, rather fancies himself, and also has a trademark dance style which would embarrass any dad at a wedding. Think epileptic fit without actually falling over. Problem with them in my mind is that they have never produced any song to match their one genuine hit, "Sit Down" which duly got the whole crowd singing when it came in the middle of their set, (well minus a small proportion of the teenagers in the crowd who just looked a little bemused at what all the fuss was about).

Kaiser Chiefs

Now I have much more time for the Chiefs. Ricky Wilson is a superlative front man, good chat and bounds around the place energetically, all making up for his rather limited vocal range. Certainly more limited than his material calls for. But they did do what I feel is slightly contrary to etiquette. When at festivals, you should play your best known stuff. Keep new material for your own tour with your own fans, not the generalist public. And so this had some new stuff interleaved with their best bits, including rousing versions of "I love you less and less" to start and "Oh my God" to close. Fine, but not the best I have seen them, and they were facing by now a wet and cold crowd.

Killers

But, as trailed above, the Killers were utterly brilliant. Lead singer Brandon Flowers can camp it up a bit sometimes, and has sensibly given up the beard. Tonight in black shirt and waistcoat, clean shaven and short hair, he looked young and fit and ready for serious indie rock and roll (which indeed was the song he opened with.) And this set really was just all their very best material all in one, including their excellent version of Joy Division's Shadowplay, and I liked the original. Brandon absolutely beasted it. Tremendous front man, great voice and just so many really strong songs. AWESOME.

Fine light display too, and fireworks to close. And at least I had my own bed (dry) and a bath to go home to, unlike those at Glastonbury. And they only had the aging, tax evading has beens U2 to watch.

School for Scandal, One Man Two Guvnors and a lodger

I feel like a repentant catholic. Forgive me its two weeks since my last blogged. Sorry.

Been busy on many levels. I have acquired a temporary lodger. A trainee barrister who has found himself without a home. He is the best mate of one of my ex-trainees, and so quite convenient for him to have the two of us in one place for visiting, which he duly did last weekend. Great Saturday night as the three of us braved the intermittent showers for the long walk to my best local bub, the Woodman, for a couple of pints. Unlike most of the pubs in this area, it is and always has been designed as a pub. Most of the others around here have been converted from shops of one sort or another. Then on to my favourite Italian for a good meal and a bottle of wine. And then another bottle. And then the complimentary grappas. And then back to my place where the offer of tea, coffee or more alcohol came down on the latter. There were many points in the evening where a coffee rather than another drink would have been the best decision. But I took none of them. A loud conversation about Scottish politics (of all things) rounded off the evening (well now small hours of the morning), and a very enjoyable one. Followed by a much slower Sunday morning.

And no sooner had I acquired said lodger than I had to, temporarily, kick him out to make way for a visit from an old university friend with his wife, daughter and her friend. Last time I had seen the daughter she was a girl. Now a very attractive 16 year old young woman. My how they grow. Does make me feel old (although mostly because I am). The girls headed to Oxford Street for retail therapy, while the old brigade headed to the British Museum,

As I am a Friend of the BM I can get into the exhibitions for free and so my friend (a vicar) and I decided to take advantage of the unusual circumstance of two exhibitions at once to do them both and get my money's worth from my membership.

The Afghanistan exhibition I had already seen, but when I was still on crutches. Good, but to be fair the best bits were the Greek stuff rather than things truly indigenous to the area.

The much heralded Treasures of Heaven was an interesting exhibition of bling. It shows a collection of reliquaries. Apart from the obvious points of fine workmanship and somewhat gruesome subject matter (such as casks for arms, heads etc) it certainly gave rise to some thoughts in my mind. One was the sheer gullibility of the populous, until Martin Luther came along to burst the bubble. When someone pops up with a splinter and says its from the True Cross, or Christ's manger, or whatever, did no one say, "Exactly how do you know its genuine?"

Secondly. it seems the declining Byzantine Empire had a small industry going along peddling this trade in little bits of old twig and bone. I suppose part of it was no one had an incentive to shout" fraud." The church peddlers had something to dangle in front of the gormless congregation, the rich had something to buy that seemed like a "limited edition" and the poor saps had something to hope for from the miraculous healing powers of these bits and bobs, given that medicine didn't have anything more than a brew made of local weeds and a few leeches. And the craftsmen had the remunerative job of embellishing the tat in ever more grandiose caskets since lets face it, a random bit of bone isn't much to look at. I guess lavishing some gold and jewels around it gave it some status and credibility. And made it rather more attractive for a pious king to have lying round the palace than a bit of twig.

The other thing hat struck me was the plethora of saints, many long forgotten who had bits of their remains stuck in these jewel encrusted boxes. Just how easily religions adapt to the useful form. Of course Christianity in is monotheistic compared to all those pagan Roman Gods of war, wine, healing or whatever. And then of course they make all those saints who are patron saints of this that or the other, giving a new chance to venerate someone for the relevant subject matter. Just like the old gods, but not actually the old gods.  So it just morphs neatly into the socially useful bits of the old religion, with new names. Which of course is what happened to Roman religion which picked up new gods or melded ones into existing cults as it took over other cultures who had their own religions. Plus ca change as they say.

Been keeping up my at least once a week theatre going, so now into critic mode

School for Scandal

Probably went to this for the wrong reasons, namely its a famous play which I hadn't seen, and it was across the road from where I work. However against that I just don't like Restoration comedy. Not funny and not particularly interesting. I do not believe comedy travels easily down the ages. Even much classic 20th century comedy seems tame and dated to me, let alone stuff from earlier centuries. And that includes Shakespeare's comedies where I am afraid people laugh more out of duty and to show they know where they are supposed to do it.

So, contrived plot and if compared to a modern play, vastly overlong. A 20th century editor would have cut the dialogue in half. (or given the choice put a line through the whole lot and asked Sheridan to start again.)

One Man Two Guvnors

Another comedy, but this time modern farce starring one of the most in vogue comic actors James Corden. Now I am not much of a Corden fan. Two much giggling at his own humour. But fair does to the man, he really carried this and he was very funny. Again, farce isn't my favourite style, and the doddery waiter routine, carried out with great aplomb, has certainly been done before. But it was all very good fun. But the cackling woman behind me was very trying. Give me someone's mobile going off over a cackling crone any day. But even with that, an entertaining evening.

Get Loaded, Razorlight & Russell Howard

Is there anything colder than an English summer's day? Of course you may retort, how about Antarctic winter? Yes, but that's supposed to be cold. This is "Flaming June." But Sunday was awful. And I knew all about it as I went to my first music festival of the year. Get Loaded on Clapham Common. In my thick socks, boots, waterproof trousers over my chinos, T-shirt, sweatshirt and lined raincoat. And gloves. And was still cold and wet. The most atrocious conditions I have experienced at a festival because of the unremitting combination of rain, wind and cold. But, like Emperor Penguins we rode out the storm huddled in front of the main stage. And here is my blow by blow account of the acts, with meteorological interludes.

Darwin Deez

An American indie band with a good sense of humour. But not interesting enough to detain me from searching out an ostrich burger in the rain.

Los Campesinos!

Now I had actually seen this band before. Indoors and so in a rather better frame of mind. Odd band. Unusually large - an 8-piece with 5 boys and 3 girls (rather than just the token female). Went for the bold move of putting the tubby bloke who can't sing as their front man. Haven't pulled it off. Musically all over the place. Although the red-head on keyboards is rather nice. I won't however give them a third chance to impress me.

Patrick Wolf

Think Boy George reincarnated as a leprechaun. Or just a very camp Robin Hood. Actually not a bad singer (slightly reminiscent of Andy Bell of Erasure). But the former sandwich maker - he explained he had once done that job in an upmarket sandwich bar in Clapham but got sacked after one day for making the wrong sandwich - could do with an image makeover.

British Sea Power

A better known indie band but one which I had never seen before. I hadn't missed much. Just noise as far as I was concerned. Sorry.

Noisettes

Second time I had seen this band. Now Shoniwa, the lead singer, is a real trooper. My admiration for her efforts was total. Wearing nothing more substantial really than a pair of tights she battled against the worst of the wind and rain, including coming right down to the audience. She climbed the speakers, did cartwheels, all while wearing a headress that must have been stapled to her scalp. Fine voice too. Sadly not just my musical taste, although she did open with the infectious "Don't upset the rhythm (Go baby go)" which was a good move to get the bedraggled crowd going. Ten out of ten for effort. And rarely has a stage had so many feathers on it.

The Cribs

Now I ought to like the Cribs much more than I do. Muscular guitar band, utterly unpretentious. They are actually 3 brothers from that renowned rock 'n' roll capital Wakefield (largest city in England never to have had a top flight football team. Bet you didn't know that. See, this site is truly educational.) But I just find it hard to distinguish tracks between their noisy guitar work, although they did rasp out a good version of their biggest hit (which is still a pretty small one) - "Men's Needs"

As I say, they give the impression that they would be a great bunch of lads to go down the pub with, so I ought to like them, but don't,  in contrast to Razorlight....

Razorlight

...whose music I do like although lead singer Johnny Borrell is almost certainly a complete w**ker.

Indeed I really only came for this headline act. And one has to admire Mr Borrell. The other band members just come and go. Its really all about him. And doesn't he know it. Of any indie singer I have to say he has the best voice, certainly can hold a note better than anyone else I have come across, and is the best looking with his blond hair, baby blue eyes and fine torso which very sensibly given the freezing wind and rain he did not display this time.

The songs are of variable quality, but a lot are at the very fine end of the spectrum. Certainly enough to make up a good set. But even Johnny's attempt to get down with his fans (which is a little unusual as he normally just accepts admiration as the rock god he clearly believes himself to be) was in my eyes just grandstanding, and marred by him having a go at the roadies for not helping and not getting his sound right. And besides, while in theory nice that he should want to get wet with us (the rest of the band sensibly showing no such desire), it actually meant he just moved from where most of us could see him to where you could only if you were at the front (so ok for me).

But I will still come out and see them again when I can as Johnny just is quite magnetic on stage. Mick Jagger swagger with far better looks and voice. Hope the new album has some goodies on it.

Russell Howard

The previous night I went to see Russell Howard with a mate. Now following on from the above discussion, Mr Howard's success is based on his likeability. Which for a comic probably counts for more than a musician. And it is hard not to warm to him. You just know you would like to have him amongst your mates down the pub. He has just such a light, breezy manner, self-effacing in a genuinely convincing way as opposed to false modesty. He is certainly a good laugh, and for the two hours including interval  he was on we certainly laughed a lot. But you would struggle to repeat the jokes, and he doesn't exactly tell long observational tales either. I think his success is being an ordinary bloke, but best in class. Check him out, especially if you like teenage boy humour, which lets face it most men do of any age. Although as he is selling out Hammersmith at the grand old age of 31, I doubt he needs my promotional efforts.

Theatre and Regents Park

There is something slightly satisfying to a middle-aged man when one's trainee says in surprise "Are you going out again?" But yes us old folks don't always spend all our nights in front of the TV with a cup of cocoa.

So its been theatre week this week for me with 3 visits (only one planned) with a gig, a pub quiz and a meal out thrown in.

Now when it comes to theatre I always mean plays. Musicals don't really do it for me. But when someone rings up with a free ticket, well I don't need to be asked twice. And Hamlet - the Musical is really not what I think of as a musical. Yes its entirely in song, but its a spoof. A real hoot, just lots of great puns and while based (a little loosely) on Shakespeare its a really satirises musicals, opera and pop, well those are the cultural references one needs to enjoy it anyway. And enjoy it I did. Hope it makes a transfer to the West End.

The second musical I went to was "Betty Blue Eyes," which is in the West End. Really more of the same, a musical comedy based on the film "A Private Function", but this time with a bigger budget (and so an animatronic pig - every play should have one). So it looked better and you recognised members of the cast, and certainly the choregraphy was better, but it wasn't really any more fun than its comparator at the Richmond Theatre earlier in the week. And the three male leads were all recognisable from TV work as character actors (and the lead Reece Sheersmith was a member of the League of Gentlemen) but that was a disadvantage as they were the three who couldn't really sing. Which, as you will appreciate, when everything is conveyed in the medium of song, is a bit of a downside. Not saying it was poor, far from it, but just not as much of a bargain. And sometimes a lack of stars is better, although maybe not for box office which is what counts I guess.

The pub quiz was fun. Hadn't done one for a while. In addition to the usual rounds of general knowledge we had an additional paper on which we had to name various items which contained none of the letters in the word "Mackerel." One was an item of furniture, which sounds like it should be easy but futon was the only one we could come up with. (Another was a London Tube station. Think of it? Bet you can't! A state in the US? A national capital? A fish?) I had an early start for a meeting next day so stuck to just the one pint, which probably helped my contribution. (Yes our team won, he says modestly.)

The gig was Two Door Cinema Club at Brixton. As the lead singer pointed out, the biggest gig the band had ever played, as Brixton is the largest theatre style venue before you start venturing into the more utilitarian world of arenas. Great gig, their jangly guitar music being bang on my musical tastes. And a lovely young bouncy audience. Unfortunately had to go on my own as my mate's lad was put under curfew at the last moment by his parents as he has GCSEs coming up next week and they wanted him to fret at home a bit about them. Anyway the band are now off to do that difficult second album after the great success of their debut, Tourist History. Check it out.

Saturday, with the stunning weather, I thought was too good to waste on watching England v Switzerland on TV (one of my better decisions) so I went on a walk through Regents Park, starting off at Primrose Hill which affords fine views over London.

Now those who say they don't like London because they prefer somewhere greener, well they are just lazy sods and don't look around the place. Now I agree if you want bleak moorland and mountains with the odd glacier thrown in then London may not be the ideal spot, but London Parks are beautiful. Regents Park is possibly the best maintained, with its boating lake, sports pitches and well-manicured gardens.

And in the middle is the open air theatre, and given the stunningly nice day I just decided on the spur of the moment to go for my third theatre visit of the week, this time to a straight play, Lord of the Flies, adapted from William Golding's famous novel (which I first came across in my teens when it was book at bedtime on Radio 4). If you don't know it, the story is of a group of schoolboys whose flight crashes on the ubiquitous desert island. There is an unspecified background of a war, presumably nuclear, going on in the rest of the world. No adult survives and the story revolves around the breakdown of civilisation between the boys and so is an allegory for the breakdown of civilisation into war amongst the modern adult world too. (Modern at the time being in the Cold War and with WWII only a  recent memory)

Now what I thought was hilarious was the jobsworth selling tickets felt the need to go through their policy on cancellations for bad weather with me, notwithstanding the performance was starting in half an hour and it was a scorching hotday.

The book is brilliant (well Golding won his Nobel prize for literature partly on the strength of it) and the play was ...interesting. Firstly I have to say the set design, with bits of a crashed airplane scattered across the stage and up into the sides by the seats, one detached wing being used as the pathway for actors to enter the stage and clothes strewn in the surrounding trees, was utterly, utterly inspired. For sheer intelligence I would say best I have seen. And the boys did a  very good job with the script. There is a lot of action, and a very hot day to be doing it all in. And an evening performance to follow. The lad who played Ralph should go on to great things.

But its a very difficult thing to pull off. In the book (and indeed as narrated on the radio) one can imagine the boys whipping themselves up into a frenzy of excitement and fear. Much more difficult to depict on stage when there is only a cast of 10 of you. And difficult too to show the gradual decline from civility to savagery. And one problem with the play, and the book, is that (deliberately) Piggy is just such an unattractive character. On the one hand he is trying to be sensible, and he is the appeal to reason, and not to mock the weakling, but its just that he is so unattractive in every way that one is tempted to side with the power-intoxicated Jack and throw stones at him. But the main characters are such a neat bunch and so well depicted in terms of how one sees political intrigue in the adult world. Jack and Ralph start out ok, but Jack just likes power. And the more he gets the more deranged (or calculating) he becomes. And he has in Roger the perfect toady henchman, who is happy with being second in command as it satisfies his lust for bullying others without having to contribute anything himself.  And its enough toadying thuggish supporters that are behind every ruthless dictator. Read in Stalin, Libya, Zimbabwe well anything. And Ralph is of course the emblem of all decency, and unlike Piggy also brave, handsome etc. And British. Well every story needs a hero.

The other thing to say about Regents Park (after that long critical diatribe) is that being originally Nash's scheme for grand housing rather than a park (in fact only 8 villas were built in the park when it was designed to be dotted with 56 of them) there is a rather nice harmony (in my view) of idealised scenery with grand regency architecture. While there are only a few houses actually to see in the Park, there are wonderful terraces surrounding it. Anyone who wants to see good quality high density housing should be brought here. And it all positively shines in the sun.