Evidently Chickentown

The final series of the Sopranos is ticking along nicely and the episode just finished, has set it up for the remaining final episodes. Given my dependency on the internet I’m surprised I have not had the final plot spoiled – despite it being shown in the summer in the US. I will no doubt blog about the final episode in the fullness of time.

What was great about the episode tonight, not just the plot; was the tune they used for the closing credits, it was by Manchester poet John Cooper Clarke, a wonderful surprise, that I nearly missed in my rush to get to bed.

After a quick trawl of the internet (and avoiding spoilers) I have found this video of the tune ‘Evidently Chicken Town’ – the video is quite evocative as it recalls a journey that I was more than familiar with from my time working in Manchester, the packed train departing a wet and windy Oxford Street station. A journey that usually had my nose pressed up against the window or with someone’s armpit draped across my face.

Errr, happy days!!

Happy Birthday Liverpool

Happy Birthday to my home town - 800 years young today. Today's Liverpool Echo does a good job of encapsulating what it is about the city and what it is like to be from there. Especially evocative is this comment piece.
Proud of a city that has never stood still (Aug 28 2007 Liverpool Echo)

HAPPY 800th birthday, Liverpool! Which means happy birthday to each and every person who is proud to call themselves a Scouser – or proud to live in or around such a remarkable place.

The greeting is not just to those in our midst on this momentous day, but also for those joining us in their thoughts across oceans and continents in tribute to the most global and well-travelled of British communities: one which needs no passport to gain recognition anywhere on earth.

A lot can happen over eight centuries – and it has. Enough to provide a tale of two cities enjoying and enduring both the best and worst of times.

Between 1807 and 1907 Liverpool – per capita of population – was the most influential business centre in the world: the oft-acknowleged second city of the British Empire (with all its imperialistic excesses).

The port handled more than 50% of UK overseas trade. The procession of merchant princes, tireless entrepreneurs, inventors, adventurers, discoverers and innovators who lived, worked or played here, provided the most impressive list of “firsts” ever conjured in a single location.

When the ECHO presented the Capital of Culture judges with a supplement containing a mere 100 reasons why Liverpool should take the 2008 European title on behalf of the nation, chairman Sir Jeremy Isaacs now famously noted: “And, yes, you are the only place that could instantly produce another hundred.”

The more cause and effect there is to life, the more chaos, then the more energy is produced.

We are the city that has never stood still – even during the darkest days of war, or, even later, when a heady cocktail of changing trade practices and political turmoil conspired, during the three decades from 1960 to 1990, to produce the most meteoric plunge imaginable in economic fortunes.

Not even the heyday of The Beatles could fend off the oncoming cloud of record unemployment and industrial unrest.

It was Harold Wilson, MP for Huyton, who won four general elections as Labour leader during those often chaotic years, who said that the greatest qualification for any prime minister was a sense of history.

So it must be in assessing Liverpool’s roller-coaster ride down the centuries.

And the biggest lesson to be learned – whether fighting off invaders, plague or pestilence, or doing battle with zero-economics, bad housing, high unemployment or unjust criticism – is that Liverpudlians always, always fought back.

More to the point, they fought back and won.

And our greatest asset in all of this? The people.

We are chancers: Witness Meccano inventor Frank Hornby, one-time butcher’s assistant, becoming millionaire inventor and businessman.

We are rebels: Witness Robert Morris, son of a tobacco merchant, born in Dale Street, who financed the American civil war, personally giving George Washington a £10,000 loan.

We are comedians: Not for nothing did Ken Dodd break the world non-stop joke- telling record.

And what, as examples, do those three things together tell the world at large?

That we are no-nonsense go-getters who have got where we are today aided by the humour of survival.

The steady river – the greatest single force in the fortunes and lives of Liverpudlians ever since the days when monks founded ye first ferry across ye Mersey – is a physical and inspirational metaphor for Liverpudlian fortitude.

Its tides have been the pulse of Liverpool life; its waters, first clear, then muddied, and now restored, demonstrate like nothing else the cycle of the city’s transition, and its rightful claim to once more be the trans-Atlantic gateway to Britain.

For more than four centuries – half of the time since the original township charter was granted – Liverpool was the place of departure for those seeking a new life in the New World.

Now it is also a city of arrival, a multicultural place of destination.

If our great architecture, including the world’s finest neo-classical civic hall and largest Anglican cathedral, helps form the stage on which we live our lives, it is Liverpudlians themselves who continue to drive the plot.

That has always been the case, as with the pioneering canal, rail and shipping links which were the catalysts to our internationalism and cultural expansion.

In all this, adversity has often been transformed to advantage. Although the docks of old (the first lock-regulated enclosed sea docks in the world), have long emptied of their fleets of many-masted cargo ships, the present freeport containerisation at the Seaforth terminal actually handles more freight than ever before.

There are other positive trends in light industrial and service industries, and a new celebration of the city’s green assets – its parks and gardens and waterfront facilities.

The population decline has been reversed.

Regeneration has provided a renaissance for once-blighted places.

The future generally looks brighter, but, as ever, life is never going to be easy. It wasn't designed to be that way.

Liverpool, now at the epicentre of the second-biggest economic region of the UK, needs to continue to rekindle all those skills which brought about its original prominence.

There is a need to remember and learn from the mistakes as well as the triumphs of the past.

But our 800th birthday should be enjoyed purely in its own right.

A time of thanks, a time to remember our forebears, and a time to ponder and prepare an enduring legacy for our children.

The ECHO remains proud to be at the heart of Liverpool life.

Which is why we sign off our editorial on this most special of days with heartfelt good wishes to all our readers, their families and friends, wherever they may be.

It's been a while...

I have not been sat behind this computer screen to compose a blog for a good few months, to be honest, I just haven’t had the inclination to write. So here goes, by way of a catch up.

After nearly five weeks off work – typical really I haven’t really been bothered or had the time to update this here blog and suddenly I back at work with seemingly less time on my hands than before - I’m suddenly compelled to wax lyrical. Having lay awake in bed until after 3 am on Wednesday morning, it was back to work later that day and back into the routine.

To say the summer weather has been something of a disappointment is an understatement – though as someone who has probably spent most of my holiday indoors - I can’t say that I didn’t really worry that the weather was so poor.

The always ever-present list of jobs to do and things that I hoped to accomplish went out the window in the first couple of weeks. The joining of a gym and the purchase of a new bike has not happened.

Part of the planning was that the time was to be spent doing a number of routine DIY jobs that I had been planning to get around to over the last few months. This I hoped would only take a couple of weeks – leaving me with plenty of time to get on with the fore mentioned stuff.

No such luck I’m afraid, one job led to another and before I knew it – I’m back at work contemplating a long, long term and the next break, that will be at Christmas.

The plan with the DIY was to tile the kitchen floor and change the decor, as well as this I was planning to change the bathroom suite and fit an extractor fan in the bathroom. What I hadn’t planned was the fact that I had to get the floor leveled, the electrics rewired and the fact that the water stopcock hadn’t been set up properly – thus adding delays and further cost to my plans.

Also, just to stop me twiddling my thumbs, I decided to paint my bedroom too. I think I’m probably depicting this as some sort of heroic solo effort here – thankfully I had the help of my Mum and Dad to call on to help me with many of the jobs.

I do feel as though I’m imposing on them at times, but bizarrely they are always on at me, asking when I’m decorating, as they want something to do – there is never really a time when they aren’t tackling something like this at their own home. So this is probably like another extended project for them. So I’m back at work and the job is still unfinished. Thankfully they are on hand to help finish the job for me, all for the price of an endless supply of HobNobs, coffee and the occasional takeaway.

I did manage to leave the house for a reasonable amount of time; one of the highlights of the summer was going to London to catch up with friends Barry and Ann. I went down for a long weekend and had a great time. I was treated to a visit to a great pub not far from where they lived, as well as a visit to the numerous great sites that London has to offer. As well some great restaurants and bars too.

I managed to see a number of things while I was down there, there main thing I wanted to see was the Gormley exhibition at the Hayward - which was good. I also had the chance to visit the Tate for the first time – generally the weekend was spent drinking and eating too much - that’s normally a recipe for a good time in my books.



Speaking of the Tate, I went to the Liverpool version to see the Peter Blake exhibition, which was a little disappointing to say the least. For someone who was synonymous with the Beatles, this period of his career was strangely overlooked – especially considering that the exhibition was in Liverpool too.

I normally attend the Beatles festival every summer, this year I have decided to not bother (it is actually taking place this weekend) though I did managed to indulge in a bit Beatles related nostalgia last weekend when I gave a friend of mine from Stoke a tour of the Beatles Story and all the other haunts around the city.

A dream possibly came true for me over the summer, my obsession with all things Echo and the Bunnymen has been chronicled here and this obsession was satiated when St Helens third Eclectica festival had the Bunnymen as the headline act.




There was a double bonus was that John Power was also on the bill too. Both acts were on fine form – I missed the first bits of his set as I arrived late as I attended the first Everton game of the season – which wasn’t that great, though thankfully we won.




One down spot over the summer was the death of my neighbour Jim. He was in his late 70s and had been ill for some time. He had been fading for a while and the neighbours and I had rallied around to look after him – I even at one point had to get up and call an ambulance at 3 in the morning after he had a fall and I could here him calling through the walls.

He was a nice man but a bit of a stubborn bugger. He didn’t really have family that come to help him and he also refused to go in a home. This would have been better for him, as his quality of life would have been better for the last few months. Having lived in the same house for his 79 years he finally got his final wish, he said to me a few months before he died that: “There’s no bloody way I’m going in a home, they will have to carry me out in a box.” Which sadly what they did.

Another sad event this summer was the passing of Anthony H Wilson - a great man. Without his vision, mine and many others record collections would be devoid of the great bands he signed and nurtured. He was often regarded as someone who hated Liverpool, it was probably the case it was had a blinkered view of Manchester at the expense of all other places. It was telling that Liverpool bands who had met him came out with equally glowing tributes as those of the bands from Manchester. Ian McCulloch did so at the Eclectica festival.



I have also listened to a fair bit of music over the summer - catching up with old stuff that I seldom listen to and buying far too many Cds. I would have bought more if I didn’t have the afore mentioned DIY to worry about. Those that I listened to so far, I have enjoyed the Editors, The White Stripes, Feist, and The Coral – which is probably one of the best things released this year.

I managed to get through a good number of books over the summer mainly books that have gathered dust on the bottom shelf of my bookcase. I finally got around to finishing Bob Dylan’s Chronicles, which is great read, but it will make more sense when the other volumes are published. Volume one jumps from the early part of his career to 1967 - then on to a pint later on in his career.

Apart from the trials and tribulations listed it’s been a reasonably good summer – onwards and upwards to Christmas. I may even blog at some point before then.

Hope I dry, before I get home

You buy your ticket in February, you look forward to hazy sunshine, quaffing cold beer in the sunshine and listening to your favourite bands.

Yesterday, some of those things came true. Having seen the Somme-like conditions from Glastonbury on the TV on the Friday night, I smugly thought than god Knowsley Hall wouldn't be as bad.

On Saturday, I attended day one of the inaugural Knowsley Hall festival - which is conveniently only 30 minutes from my home. The main attraction was certainly to see the Who again, 12 months after I last saw them. Also on the bill were personal favourites of mine the Coral, Pete Wylie and Shack.


Pete Wylie was in good form, as usual he treated the crowd to his stunning wit and repartee - as well as a number of bonafide classics, Story of the Blues and Better Scream still sound pretty good today. Next up was Shack, a band that I normally think are fantastic but last time I saw them I was less than enamoured.

This time though they didn't disappoint - despite being handicapped by a clearly inebriated front-man. I thought I would have a couple of pints of what Mick Head had obviously indulged in. Alas there was a seemingly never ending queue, (see picture below)that saw us wait for just under an hour to be served. This put paid to thoughts of catching up yer-man in getting pissed - eventually I managed to get two lukewarm pints of lager, that would have to suffice. I think the festival was obviously sponsored by the temperance society, given the level of service.

While I was in the queue for food and drink, the Thrills and The View came and went - they sounded OK, I don't mind the Thrills, but I could certainly could have done without the View - not my cup of tea at all, derivative shouty bollocks!

The final two acts, were the two I had set out to see when I bought my tickets back in February. The Coral were in good form and after a break to recharge the batteries, they are back with a soon to be released album, from which a number of tunes were given an airing.

One of which In The Rain - brought about the first spots of rain, that thankfully didn't last too long. The rain that is, as the song itself was pretty good.

It is amazing that a band so young have so many recognisable hits that the crowd were familiar with - a greatest hits in the future would be a worthwhile release.

It was too good to ask for I suppose given the weather of late, as the final band the Who took to the stage, the heavens finally opened. The Who played a set reminiscent of the last time I saw them, with only a couple of the songs in the middle changed. It was good to hear the classic songs live again, with my particular favourite Won't Get Fooled Again sounding brilliant as ever. Given the worsening conditions I decided to leave during the final songs of the encore of songs from Tommy.

It was a brilliant festival and certainly one I'll look to attending next year Apart from the lack of bar facilities and the rain, I can't complain, a good day was had by all.

The Blair years

Ten years and eight days after he became prime minister, Tony Blair has finally confirmed, what most of us expected, that he will step down in the summer.

In a week when David Cameron branded his government as the "living dead", he has put an end to uncertainty and has finally seen fit to move on.

It was never meant to end this way, back in 1997 when he became the youngest prime minister since Lord Liverpool, he and the UK was seemingly on the crest of a wave.

The mood was fairly positive in the initial stages when he was swept into Downing Street on a tide of optimism to the tune of "Things can only get better".

He was elected with the promise to restore trust in politics and politicians, as well as transform the ailing services of the country.

I have posted previously about my feelings towards Blair - mainly on account of his failings. But it would be wrong not to highlight some of his successes - which there have been some.

On the plus side you can highlight the national minimum wage, as well as constitutional reform such as devolution in Scotland and Wales and progress in the Northern Ireland peace process amongst the plus points. He has made some headway with the NHS, but not enough to satisfy a number of doubters.

On a personal level, he is the only the Labour prime minister to have won three successive general elections and to have served more than one full consecutive term.

The continuation of the Conservatives spending plans and a continuation of a number of PFI initiatives have certainly not been well received. Though the biggest mistake was to be seen as being too cosy with George Bush in the aftermath of 11 September. Though he seemed to revel in the statesmanlike attention he was receiving, yet failed to understand the reaction he was getting at home.

The military campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan - split public opinion and divided his own party - he suffered notable rebellions from the backbenches and within the cabinet. By trying to become a world figure, he increasingly appeared vain and arrogant and out of touch with the domestic issues.

The final months in office have been overshadowed by a police investigation into the alleged sale of honours. Though this is not an isolated instance of sleaze - this unfortunately has been prevalent throughout his time

Blair's valedictory speech today alluded to mistakes but typically he skirted around them and milked the applause for its worth. History will probably view him favourably in the fullness of time.

Sadly things did get better, then they went back to as they where.

When did life start getting so serious?

I have spent the last few weeks pouring over numerous financial documents, having numerous conversations with people trying to sell me their “best” deals – I’m jaded by the whole process and at this point I can just about summon the energy to do anything else.

The re-mortgage should be finalised next week…hopefully. On top of that I have had to contend with changing my electric/gas providers as the “budget deal” I had with my current supplier Scottish Power has just run out - they haven’t dropped their prices recently… and they have said they won't be either in the future.

There must be some central database with my details showing that my deal was up – this week has seen three energy companies knocking at more doors trying to sell the same old cobblers products.

Lucky for me I have the Internet and I can do the price comparisons – the older residents of my street are not so lucky and they may be taken in by these sharks.

I took great delight in taking the wind out the guy from NPower’s sails when I rendered his spiel obsolete, by having the facts I’d garnered form the Internet to hand – which I quoted back to him.

While I’m on the subject why do they always start with the same line of “I’m not trying to sell you anything,” when they knock at your door, when the end of a successful conversation on their part involves taking away my bank details to process and plunder.

I have also had to change my home insurance, take out a new mortgage/income protection policies - added to this I now have a critical insurance policy that I have just taken out.

With pay day well over a week away the Clark coffers are certainly a little threadbare to say the least – though if I was to cark it tomorrow – my estate would garner untold riches according to small print in the critical illness policy.

The same small print also says I wouldn’t covered in the event of suicide in the first twelve months – which is fine as I have no intentions of topping myself.

But in twelve months time, if a pile of my clothes turn up on a beach near here – don’t worry, I’ll have claimed my untold riches and buggered off somewhere hot!

Magnetic Wonder The Apples In Stereo – New Magnetic Wonder (Yep Roc/Simian)

It is rare that a band can produce an album that is retro focused, but still tinged with a dash of innovation. The latest release from the Apples In Stereo is that rarefied album. This is not so much a release - it’s more a work of art.

Multimedia releases such as this may dazzle when they are unleashed from the cellophane packaging but when played often they can disappoint. Repeated plays of New Magnetic Wonder confirm that this is style and substance in equal measure.

This is the band’s fifth official full-length release and the first on Elijah Wood’s Simian Records label and given the wealth of content on this album, it is no surprise that it’s the first release in five years. The tardiness can be forgiven, considering the quality on display here.

In the days when downloads are in the ascendancy and physical formats in terminal decline, it is a joy to know that something as lovingly put together as this exists – it is certainly something worth taking the trouble to go out and purchase.

There are twenty-four tracks across the album - some with traditional verse-chorus song structures as well as examples of the newly devised musical scale the Non-Pythagorean composition number 18.

The genesis of which is lovingly detailed on the enhanced section of the album. Robert Schneider is certainly the living embodiment of a genius in rock - proven by his pushing of the boundaries here.

The songs are what matter and they are certainly up to standard with the dazzling array of extras.

The opener Can You Feel It? - is a real call-to-arms which explores many of the musical ideas replicated across the album. Even the heckling of the audience at a gig in London get a look-in and are duly credited on the sleeve notes – “anger due to Apples’ overly loud guitars”.
The summery nature of Energy is replicated throughout and it is a hallmark of the retro styling throughout – with lashings of sumptuous Beatles and Beach Boys harmonies.

The vocoder is put to use on Same Old Drag. This song suggests a love of ELO, which is ok these days, now they have been fully rehabilitated as a guilty pleasure. At times this has something of the French band Air about it too – which is no bad thing either.

For me the pick of the album are the tunes 7 Stars and Radiation. The epic 7 Stars sits neatly in the middle of the album – most bands with a paucity of material would build up to a tune like this and make it the focal point of the album.

Radiation is the last of the traditionally structured songs and it has to be on top of its game considering what comes next. Four songs from home the epic Beautiful Machine Parts 1-2 & Beautiful Machine Parts 3-4 are a truly majestic end to the album and are songs that evoke thoughts of the Lilly’s at their finest.

If this is not enough and this leaves you wanting more? After 24 tracks (16 full tunes and 8 incidental pieces) - you can take the trouble to go online to download two extra tracks The Apples In Stereo Theme and Atom Bomb. These are slightly throwaway tracks but are still worth checking out.

The list of credits is endless and that isn’t surprising given the truly expansive nature of the release, neither too is the dedication to Syd Barrett who would no doubt have been blown away by some of the ideas at work here, had it been released when he was carving out soundscapes and pushing back musical barriers.

Here’s to seeing what direction turn next time out, but for now don’t download this, go out and buy it, as this is truly has something for everyone.

Time flies

Today is a notable day for me, as it is the tenth anniversary of me leaving the job that I had worked at virtually since I'd left school. It was only supposed to be a stop-gap, before I moved on to the next job - six years later I was still there.

This great leap into the unknown felt like the first day of the rest of life. After much soul searching, I finally decided to plot an alternative career path - doing something that I really wanted to do

I had worked for Customs and Excise for nearly six years at the time of departure – one of those years was spent with metaphorical cigar-in-mouth - given the fact that I had put in my application for voluntary redundancy in the January of 1996 – 27th March 1997 was the last day that I could leave under this arrangement.

I had two options I could have followed. Having dabbled a bit in freelance journalism – it was my intention to go to University to study and then get a job in the profession.

Option two, was to follow my passion in music and study at LIPA in studio technology. I choose option one and with hindsight it is certainly the one that I'm hapy with.

The summer after my departure was probably one of the best, as I lived off my redundancy package - living a bohemian lifestyle as it were - well as much a bohemian lifestyle can be, living at your parents.

I undertook a short lived acting course, as well as a number of the more fruitful songwriting courses, that culminated in my first 'solo' live performance at The Picket in Liverpool. Basically I dossed about before going to Liverpool John Moores University in September to study Politics with Sociology.

On reflection, I can't believe how much I have crammed into the last ten years - I have lived in a foreign country (Finland) completed my Degree, MA, a teaching qualification and other varying qualifications, I have worked in the profession that I wanted to when I was at school (but I had dismissed the chances as being not for me). I have worked as a journalist and weirdly I'm now teaching the subject. My private life has been a little hectic too - falling in and out of love on numerous occasions - many times the unrequited type too. I have even moved away from Liverpool after a short stay in Stoke I'm now living in St Helens.

Here's to the next ten years, having crammed so much in the last ten, I would settle for something a little less hectic.

There are places I remember

Today was my first trip to Goodison in 2007 and given the fact that my Nan died on the Thursday - the pilgrimage was all the more poignant.

My Nan was 91, and had been in poor health for the last year, though there is a shock when someone passes away - it was certainly something that had been expected.

For the last few years my Nan had lived in a home in Crosby, as the onset of Alzheimer’s had made it increasingly difficult for her to live on her own. Before that she had lived on Goodison Road and in the surrounding areas most of her life - the house was a stone throw from Everton Football Club.

Saturdays would invariably be spent at either of my two Nans and in the days that I couldn’t attend the game on my own I used to go to soak up the action outside the ground and would occasionally buy a programme.

It would then be back to my Nan’s – gorge myself on the piles of cakes and sweets provided and listen to the game taking place down the road, unfold of the radio.

St Luke’s Church, which is tucked away in the corner of the ground, is a place that is something that I hold dear. Not only is it a place where the rampant commerciality of attending a modern day football match is kept at bay – I think you can get a mug of coffee and a scone and still get change out of a quid. You can also enjoy the prematch atmosphere amongst fans that span the decades and no doubt have some interesting tales to tell.

It is also the church, which my Nan attended on a Sunday, and where she will visit for the final time on Thursday. It is also the place that my parents married back in January 1970 – FA Cup third round Saturday. Apparently we were drawn away that day…and lost!!!

So with the talk of a move to a new stadium in Kirkby for Everton, it will be something I will look upon with deep sadness and regret as Walton and Goodison Road hold a special place in my heart and not just because of a team that play in blue.

Sup up your beer and collect your fags

There has been a spate of bands recently getting back together some for the right reasons and some to boost the pension funds for one last hurrah. It was pleasing to see that Crowded House have reformed, though this is one reunion that is tinged with sadness. As the original drummer Paul Hester will not be around, having committed suicide in 2005.

The news to today that The Jam are getting back together is something of a shock, given that Paul Weller had previously said that his kids would have to be destitute before he considered it.

The news is all the more baffling given that Weller in fact will not be joining the band for the ‘reunion’ - it will be bassist Bruce Foxton, Rick Buckler and AN Others instead. Worryingly they have a 20-date tour and album ready to roll.

This has got to be the most ill conceived idea that I have ever heard in my life. As the years have rolled on, the dignity of the other two has lapsed year-by-year, from the whingeing biography Our Story, through to Rick Buckler joining The Gift – a Jam tribute band!

The Jam is Paul Weller, and though Buckler and Foxton have some claim to the legacy of The Jam – this would in effect be pissing all over that legacy.

I don’t think I’ll be buying a ticket or the CD – I wait eagerly as to what Weller’s response will be.

TV Hell

I know it is a cliché to moan about TV, though I think I will do so here. Last night followed the usual pattern, as most workday nights tend to follow.

I usually come home from work and throw something into the oven that’s easy to cook and usually barely edible – as most of my cooking tends to be.

At no point in the night did I decide to put the TV on. This was mainly due to the paucity of anything worth watching to be fair.

Instead I spent the time listening to music, reading and going on the Internet. I seldom watch TV these days – unless there is something on specifically that I would like.

I wouldn’t miss it if I was to get rid of my TV, but that would mean I wouldn’t be able to watch my DVDs – a mainstay of my week.

This could turn into an anti-licence-fee rant but I feel that BBCi and the Radio are worthy of the licence-fee alone. One of the good things about my TV abstinence is that thankfully I have missed Nonentity Big Brother – though it is something that I would avoid anyway.

Apart from the usual washed-up has-beens and nonentities, this series has thrown up a fair bit of controversy over the racist bullying of the Indian Bollywood star Shilpa Shetty. Though I have not watched the programme – I have seen the alleged clips of racism on the news today. It is hard to describe the people in question as card carrying Nazis – I just think it may be the fact that are swimming in a shallow gene pool.

What do they expect? It is lowest common denominator TV, starring people from the lowest-of-the-low. Jade Goody is a vacuous, excuse for a human being anyway, but rolling out the rest of the family is a nadir, not just in the history of Big Brother, but TV. They are scum and pond life.

The rest are a f*cking waste of time and should be horsewhipped – not just for the racism but for the fact that they are a bunch of tossers. Rant over!!

We Are All Doomed

Apparently the Doomsday Clock now stands at 11:55 having been pushed forward by the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists (the organisation that devised the timepiece) as a result of the current concern over the threat of global warming.

The clock, which was set up in 1947 once reached two minutes to midnight in 1953 at a time when the United States and Soviet Union were involved in nuclear testing.

The clock has been moved backwards and forwards on 18 occasions in its 60-year history and reflects the prevailing political climate of the time.

This is the nearest that the clock has got to midnight for a number of years and the reasons this time are not just as a result of unstable political factors, but also for environmental reasons.

I guess I better clear out my shed and convert it into a panic room/shed to ward off the impending cataclysmic meltdown.

Shame really, as I was looking forward to a busy February.

It was 50 years ago today

The most famous club in Liverpool’s history (other than Everton) turned 50 today.The Cavern a club made famous with an association with The Beatles, celebrated an anniversary with a series of events.

It is a club that I have a fondness for and not just because of the links with The Beatles, but it was also a place that I spent some of my formative drinking years.

I remember the first time as an underage 15-year-old setting foot down those winding stairs to the dank atmosphere of The Cavern below – this could have been a disappointment to some – but not for me it was magical.

I can even remember what I drank in those days, it would without doubt have been Cider. (That must be the right of passage, as most underage drinkers start on that before ascending or should that be descending to drinking Lager).

At the time I didn’t realise that it was not the original club, but a carbon copy in roughly the same location on Matthew Street. In a typically short-sighted Liverpool City Council decision it was demolished in the 70s to make way for a ventilation shaft for the underground railway system – that ultimately wasn’t required.

It is a club that I suppose I started a relationship with one of my first girlfriends. It was a place that I lapsed from being a vegetarian after almost twelve months of abstinence. After a particularly inebriated night, the waft of the smell of onions from the botulism-burger van on the Matthew Street was too much of a temptation to overcome.

It was also a place where I ruined a pair of white jeans (I think they were just about fashionable at the time) when I decided to take James’ song Sit Down literally and park my arse on the floor amongst the dregs and slops – and no doubt other detritus that accounted for a night out in the Cavern.

I have taken numerous foreign visitors there who have not failed to fall for the charms of the old place.

Happy birthday and here’s to another 50 years in existence and hopefully I can fulfil one of my long held dreams and actually play a gig there.