overlap

A certain lack of engagement in sweating my utmost for the company (that still can't decide whether to continue my employment or not, despite the very imminent deadline for a decision) means my conscience is pretty clear as I leave the office after less than a half a working day. Having not been to a gig in London for months, it's something of a refreshing reversion to normality to be on the motorway for half the afternoon, listening to England's first innings in the deciding Ashes Test as the wickets tumble. And a lesser experience that I couldn't face becoming a normality as I'm gradually working my way through the London traffic. 'Hold your nerve and hold your line' appears to be about the best approach, and is a decent line on the approach I'm taking in the face of my employer's unintentional brinksmanship. For a change, and yet not much of a change, I'm pleased to see a bunch of people I haven't seen in a few months, including someone who's taking my spare ticket off my hands. The cash for the spare ticket is quickly exchanged for the Shared album, and it's straight inside to watch one of the artists on it, Timothy Parkes. When I saw him last, I found myself mildly uncertain what to make of him but he's obviously got his own style and the acoustic guitar on his track Looks Like Rain sounds not unlike Fixer or something else by Vent414, so that's always going to be a bonus. Can't say I'm going to rush to travel for hours to see him on his own, but he's another to file under the category of support acts I intend to catch and keep an eye on. This many years on, anything I have to say about the experience of The Wonder Stuff live on stage is hardly objective, and likely to be more about the peripheral aspects of the gig-going experience. Nevertheless it's a solid show in a tiny venue, and with either the live sound mix or my position relative to the speakers making Mark McCarthy's bass sound more like a Ned's Atomic Dustbin style lead instrument than just some background thudding. The recent reinventions of both 'Mother And I' and 'The Animals And Me' sound splendid, and it's a pretty damn good gig that finishes only just after the 11pm curfew. Despite a brief tour of Mortlake as I miss a turning somewhere, the clear motorway sees me home before 2.15, which is also a welcome change. Apart from when I was slowed down by a burst of very heavy rain, this was one of those drives when I almost wish I had a CD player in the car, all the better to listen to the Shared album. The tracks by Wayne Hussey featured at the Shared show in Jaunary, so there's little new there, Timothy Parkes I've already mentioned, and the three new songs by Miles Hunt and Erica Nockalls are up to their normal high standard, and unsurprisingly would easily have fitted on the Catching More Than We Miss album. Dirty Ray is someone I'm not about to rush out in search of as the Tom Waits growl thing leaves me totally cold but you know, Waits has had a good enough career to manage without me and Dirty Ray shouldn't lose any sleep over my taste either. Which leaves the two new artists that impress me most on this album - Matthew Derrick's three tracks sound remarkably like early solo Miles Hunt, and could easily be outtakes from Hairy On The Inside. Better keep my eyes peeled for his name appearing in local listings, as I really want to hear more. Rob Dunsford's 'Millionaire' sounds inordinately like Liam Dullaghan's band The Have-Nots in the bittersweet blend of male and female vocals, but it's the slightly fuller sound of 'Dashboard Therapy', helped immensely by the accordion, which really catches my attention. There's someone else in there who he reminds me of a little, it may well be Rob from The Voluntary Butler Scheme, but that'll come to me in time. It's not as if I won't be listening to these tracks again, as a quick look at last.fm will tell you! So for two brand new artists I'd never encountered before, Shared (the album) represents excellent value. Cheers, Milo! * is a line from Rob Dunsford's magnificent 'Dashboard Therapy'. Setlist ------- Red Berry Joy Town A Wish Away It's Yer Money Here Comes Everyone On The Ropes Caught In My Shadow Circlesquare Mission Drive Size Of A Cow Donation Golden Green Animals And Me Don't Let Me Down, Gently Radio Ass Kiss Give Unbearable Ten Trenches --- Cartoon Boyfriend Mother And I Ruby Horse Poison

Labels: gigs, Matthew Derrick, Rob Dunsford, Shared, The Wonder Stuff

One of the many benefits of a season ticket is knowing exactly where you're going. Unusually for us, the team shows the odd sign of knowing where it's going too, and from day one. Without a points deduction there's a temptation to start to ignore the lessons of many, many years and just this once to believe in a bright successful future, but one game at a time. The commencement of the fixture list gives my life a little more structure too, and a framework around which to consider my forthcoming gigs. After a brief period in which I've either been out of the country or the summer festival season has meant a certain dearth of accessible and suitably appealing things to go to. Which is perhaps not such a bad thing as it simply isn't possible to do everything, but I'm back on the ticket-buying trail and gradually rebuilding the other stuff which isn't dependent on being in work or not. Having places to go and things to do ain't a bad plan and I need to get out more anyway.

After a couple of weeks enjoying the many splendours of the hills of nearby continental europe, I am now back on the streets again, as Saxon would have it. This ought to be approaching the end of six months of several varieties of trouble, and yet even now I'm not absolutely sure of exactly when my job ends, imminent though that is supposed to be. In between the research prior to my various travels and the clearing out the debris on my return, there hasn't really been a lot of time to keep up with the nuts and bolts of life. And while I'm sure I've been doing the right thing to make the most of the fleetingly brief opportunities as they have presented themselves, I'm just about ready for a month of nothing but signing on, cleaning the house and irregular hours of sleep. Just as Saxon bring me back to the most trad of trad metal, there's a warm familiar feeling in some things that have just always been there. On which note I'm saddened that my absence means I've come back to find that Bobby Robson and John Hughes are no longer with us, and just today Les Paul has taken his final bow. Robson's success in the FA and UEFA cups was a major achievement at the time, while Hughes' work on Pretty In Pink and The Breakfast Club in particular evokes another, differently significant time of my life. As for Les Paul, there's a whole musical landscape that might not even exist without his influence. Which brings us right back to the reliance on the familiar, and in the last couple of days I'm delighted to find the recognisable in what is new to me: I've enjoyed a lot of novelty/comedy bands, and while I love Bad News and Hayseed Dixie, the likes of the Ukelele Orchestra Of Great Britain definitely take one joke and spin it out for way too long. Dressing like an Australian rock chick's nightmare and sounding like an unholy mix of Mötley Crüe, Whitesnake, Saxon and Poison, Steel Panther just shouldn't work. And then you listen to the lyrics and its John Hughes' 1986 all over again, just with the comedic profanity of South Park ladled all over it. Just what I needed, to nick yet another song title from somewhere else!