Poll Results - 2 Tone Bands

1= Madness
1= The Specials
3 The Beat

Surprise, surprise The Nutty Boys and Coventry's finest couldn't be split even 30 years after they first skanked onto the scene!

The Ashes Pre-amble

The Aussies arrival (normally via Gallipoli or Flanders), Boony lurching off the plane after 53 tubes of Toohey's, the warm up match at Arundel against the Duchess of Lavinia's XI, the worries about selection (Larkins or Gatting), the interviews, the boasts, the threats. The promise of victory and the long dark shadow of defeat.

Bring it on!

Decent Magazines

The simple pleasure of popping into the newsagent and having the choice of at least 5 decent magazines to buy. And although many of them are going through what can only be described as a fallow period, they still pour from a great height on the rubbish available here. So, a large round of applause for the following magazines (past & present):

The Face, Straight No Chaser, Select, Mojo, GQ, Arena, When Saturday Comes, JM96* & Spectrum. To name but a few!

Poll Results - Suss Bands

1. A Certain Ratio
2. Joy Division
3. Wire

Humorous Football Chants - Not

I had the good fortune to be at Wembley a couple of weeks ago and whilst it was a pleasure to see the mighty Chelsea vanquish Everton I was quite disappointed at the general level of crowd humour. It struck me that some chants and crowd reactions are getting a little bit tired.

Some examples of which are:

A Chelsea player falls over, cue Northern teams mass chants of
"Chelsea Rent Boy, Chelsea Rent boy"

Everton player falls over, cue
"Cheating Northern Bastard"

Everton fans start singing, cue
"In your Liverpool slums, you look in a dustbin for something to eat. You find a dead rat and you think it's a treat... Etc"

Everton player disuptes with referee, cue
"Calm down, calm down" in comical Harry Enfield scouser manner

Other teams responses are equally tired and laboured

Arsene Wenger gets up from the bench, cue
"Only one Arsene Wenger, with a packet of sweets and a cheeky smikle, Wenger is a f***in' paedophile"

Jose Mourinho gets up from the bench, cue Man City fans
"That coats from Matalan, that coats from Matalan..."
Actually that was bloody funny when they did it - the first time.

As for Chelsea's response to the god awful dirge "Liverpool, Liverpool" it doesn't bear repeating. Also Liverpool's songs about Busby Babes, United songs about Matthew Harding and Leeds United's songs about anyone

Although their song about "Cockney fan he is dead, escalator on his head..." is so surreal that it passed off with nothing more than a bemused shrug by most West Ham fans.

Top five favourite football banalities include:

"Yoooooooooooouuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeee Shhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiittttttttttttttaaaaaagh"
"Who's the Wanker in the black"
"She fell over, she fell over"
"My old man said be a Palace fan, I said f**k off b*ll*cks you're a ***t"
"Score in a brothel, you couldn't score in a brothel"

Two-Tone Tours

The Special AKA, Madness, The Selecter, The Beat, The Bodysnatchers...

Sweating, heaving, non-stop skanking! Bloody marvellous! With Terry & the gang reuniting (sans Jerry) and even coming to play Sydney. It is time to play a small but humble tribute to the whole two-tone movement which swept across Britain in the blinking of a black & white checked eye!

Built on a message of racial unity, top tunes and double danceable 'riddims', the two-tone tours charged up and down the country, mashing up the various Top Ranks and Guidhalls in an orgy of joyous excitement. The Selecter (lead by the particularly fine Pauline Black) would set the bill running, before those magnificent Nutty Boys bounded on stage full of North London bonhomie and their rockin', skanking fairground, reggae nooise. Then The Specials (AKA or otherwise) rounded off the evening with a slightly punkier more menacing set of ska classics and JD penned monster originals.

Even now I can still feel the cold sweat freezing on me as we walked home from Brighton Top Rank, soaked to the skin, overjoyed at the night just gone and wondering where on earth to get shades like Suggs and haircut like Terry Hall. All the while singing One Step Beyond, Long shot kick de bucket, Rat Race, On my Radio, My Girl and A messsage to you Rudy...

Go ahead and rediscover the joys of two-tone in fact why not enjoy yourself it's later than you think!

Suss Punks

"This is the way, step inside..."

Long macs, demob suits from second hand stores, Kafka, Camus and Gitanes. Nietszche, Wire, Joy Division, Ballard, town shoes and very pale skin. Sitting in the Spartan drinking one very slow mocha. A far away look and abject, sweet abject misery. John Peel, the library, Penguin classics and Herzog. No pogoing, just shuffling and the misery my friends, the misery. TS Eliot, Wim Wenders and a distinct lack of irony.

Oh, what fun we had...

Left wing political parties

Labour Party (don't laugh)
Young Socialists
Militant Tendancy
Socialist Workers Party
Trotskyites
Anarchists
Revolutionary Hedonists (Now they were Champagne Socialists)
Workers Revolutionary Party
Revolutionary Workers party
Situationists
Nihilists

Anyone could be forgiven for thinking that we weren't necessarily "in it to win it'. Oh well, hey ho - here we go again!

Record Shops

Cramped, shimmering temples of the soul

I remember going to visit Paul Murphy's record shop, somewhere on Berwick Street. Past the The Blue Posts, by the market, in the door, down some steps and there they were, laid out before me like a thousand ebony stars fallen from the skies. Records by artists I'd never heard of, from countries far and wide, just stacked waiting for me to discover. And I stayed there for hours pondering which ones to buy, hoping against hope that I'd find an extra tenner in my pocket. Rent, schment!

It wasn't just Paul, the Portobello Road had some fine secrets hidden away too as did the back street lanes of Brighton, the second hand stores of Old Town, Paris, Melrose Avenue - Where I finally tracked down two copies of Dizzy on the Riviera!

No special offers, 2 for 1 DVD honey traps. Just good honest record shops, selling the key to my soul.

All hail Murphy, Rough Trade, Soul Jazz, Mambo, Honest John's etc etc!

Poll Results - Haircut 100 Songs

1. Snow Girl
2. Calling Captain Autumn
3. Lemon Fire Brigade

A Ted Rogers - ' The Cocktail of the Gods'

3-2-1

3 measures of Smirnoff Black label
2 measures of 10 year old white rum
1 large splash of Champagne
A small dash of R.Whites Lemonade (opened left-handed)
2 crushed cubes of ice (Preferrably Evian)
1 slice of lime


Shake Vodka, Rum, Ice and Lemonade before adding splash of Champagne
Serve in half pint straight glass and pretend it's water!

Created by the Great Hector Chumpitaz - Head Barman at the Tivoli/Hippodrome Theatre Eastbourne and keen poker player. Circa 1985

The Art of being an English Gentleman (Part 5)

Wake up sober, get up drunk. Sway gently to the beautiful cleansing rhythms of the Modern Jazz Quartet whilst ironing crisp white shirt. Look out of the window of my Marble Arch hotel room. Try to remember the chaos of the night before. Dress in lighted grey three-button summer suit, crisp white aforementioned, silver links, black/sky tie, stout brogues (black). Stroll through the lobby, receive knowing look from the concierge. Thrust myself out into the hubbub of Oxford Street.

Stride purposefully to Piccadilly Circus. Straight into the bar at the Criterion, demand a very large Ted Rogers (see 'Cocktail of the Gods' entry). Down it in one. Plonk self at end of bar, read cricket reports, chuckle at Surrey's plight. Order second Ted. Finish. Step out into afternoon light. Weave way to a small poetry reading in Greek Street, declaim beautiful, hysterical, decadent and romantic verse for two hours. Leave smothered in kisses, with a rather feisty thing called Maisy on my arm, glowing with sheer unadulterated delight. Hail Taxi and head for the banks of the River Thames. Get out, propose undying love to the night, the city and the stars and then head back to Marble Arch.

Wake up drunk, get up later...

Poll Results - Tube lines

Favourite tube line

1. Piccadilly
2. District
3. Circle

Haircut 100

Calling Captain Autumn

Often unfairly derided as being a trite little pop band. I liked the '100, a tight little funk-pop band with top tunes, chunky sweaters, billy whizz guitar chords, deck shoes or brogues, jaunty Beatles caps, sowesters, Triumph Heralds, country pubs, games of cricket, obscure lyrics courtesy of old cheeky chops Heyward and a very fine version of 'Low Rider' by War.

A decidedly more upbeat alternative to Josef K and the rest of the long mac brigade (not that I wasn't adverese to immersing myself in the collected works of Joy Division for months on end - more from them later...)

For additional memories amble through the Pelican West track listing and pick a tune!
Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl, Love Plus One, Lemon Firebrigade, Marine Boy, Milk Film, Kingsize (You're My Little Steam Whistle), Fantastic Day, Baked Bean, Snow Girl, Love's Got Me in Triangles, Surprise Me Again, Calling Captain Autumn +
CD bonus tracks: Boat Party, Ski Club, Nobody's Fool, October Is Orange (day 1 and 2)

Walking back from town

No night buses, taxis, gun culture, knives, muggings...

Just walking along the middle of Seaside Road at two in the morning, singing to the moon. Oh, how the townsfolk loved my unerring renditions of modern day popular classics... The look of love... Fly me to the moon... We don't need that Fascist Groove thang... Felicity... Blue Monday... The hits just kept on coming!

RNLI

Because it's rough out there

The Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI) is a charity that saves lives at sea around the coasts of the British Isles, as well as inshore. Founded by Sir William Hillary (Isle of Man) on 4 March 1824 as the National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck, adopting the present name in 1854.

The RNLI operates over 230 lifeboat stations around the coasts of Great Britain and Ireland. Since 1980, lifeboat rescues have doubled; the RNLI rescues an average of 22people each day.

Over 137,000 peoples lives have been saved by the RNLI. Bloody marvellous!

Poll Results - Airports

1. Luton
2. Stanstead
3. Gatwick

Martello Towers

I can see one from my window

Between 1804 and 1812 the British authorities built a chain of towers based on the original Mortella tower to defend the south and east coast of England, Ireland, Jersey and Guernsey to guard against possible invasion from France, then under the rule of the Emperor Napoleon. A total of 103[8] Martello towers were built in England, set at regular intervals along the coast from Seaford, Sussex, to Aldeburgh, Suffolk. Most were constructed under the direction of General William Twiss (1745–1827) and a Captain Ford.[9][10]

The effectiveness of Britain's Martello towers was never actually tested in combat against a Napoleonic invasion fleet. After the threat had passed, the Martello towers in England met a variety of fates. The Coastguard took over many to aid in the fight against smuggling. Fifteen towers were demolished to enable the re-use of their masonry. The sea washed thirty away and the military destroyed four in experiments to test the effectiveness of the new rifled artillery.

During the Second World War, some Martello towers returned to military service as observation platforms and firing platforms for anti-aircraft artillery. Forty-seven have survived in England, a few of which have been restored and transformed into museums (e.g., the tower at St Osyth), visitor centres, and galleries (such as Jaywick Martello Tower). Some are privately owned or are private residences; the remainder are derelict. A survey of the East Coast towers in 2007 found of the 17 remaining, most were in a reasonable condition.

I love the way they hover on the edge of the English coast, standing staunch against the elements and the threat of ancient invasions. They invoke a deep affection in me for the particular stretch of coast from the Wish Tower to Cooden Beach (Soul Bay). So, much so that the house I bought in Normans Bay is 50 yards from one - I wanted to actually buy one but couldn't quite manage to win that argument!

Heathrow Airport

Touchdown at dawn, having flown half the way round the world. Stumble out from the warm but smelly cocoon of a QF flight into the bitter cold of a Heathrow morning. Traipse three quarters of a mile to passport control. Be greeted by a surly forty something skinhead/Passport control officer. Head down to the luggage reclaim, find that none of the trolleys work properly. Finally find one with a wonky wheel. Join the queue at the carousel. Wait...

...until an hour later the last bag is collected leaving only a trainer and a pushchair slowly circling around. Head through customs, avoid the gaze at all times and flop into the arrivals lounge to be greeted by a row of dodgy cab drivers/chauffers. Try out the cash machine, get lucky. Buy a Guardian and then try to navigate the trolley to the Heathrow Express. Miss the next two london bound trains whilst trying to purchase a ticket. Finally get on board the stopping train to Paddington. Train pulls out of Heathrow Terminal 4. Heave huge sigh of arrival, it's good to be back home!

Brick Lane

The noise, the smells, the posh & the poor, the curry houses, bakeries, the history. Above all the history that seeps through every inch of this wonderfully mixed up, shook up stretch of East London.