Writer's Block

I caught the first episode of the new era of the Daily Show night, helmed by Trevor Noah. Jon Stewart is an exceedingly difficult act to follow and I've had reservations about whether the relatively inexperienced Noah is right for the role. He got off to a good start, paying tribute to Stewart in a well judged opening segment. In this section, Noah alluded to the list of candidates who turned the job down. I'd be interested to know who was on it. The only one I know is of Amy Schumer, who wouldn't have been right for it. Although she'd probably have brought a new attitude which may have appealed. Then it was into some light heartened business about the Pope, with a couple of misfiring gags. One of them involved mistaking "AIDS" for "aides", a gag that was first made on South Park 13 years ago. You would expect someone at Comedy Central to know that. A second implying that the Pope has a big penis was salvaged by an off hand "What a waste......

In my teens, I used to buy a lot of CDs and merchandise from Drive Thru Records, who were the record label of a great many of my favourite bands. One of those bands were Midtown, a pop-punk band with rock and roll influences. I tried on a number of occasions to source their record "Save The World, Lose The Girl" without any luck. I am one of those people who occasionally peruses bargain racks in the vain hope of finding someone I want that I don't already own. Recently, I've taken to browsing through them in my local Poundland. Imagine my surprise when I fished out a copy of "Save The World, Lose The Girl". Perhaps sadly, the discovery made my day. But I'm going to crank it up loud and party like it's 2004.

I took in a free screening of The Intern in Oxted this evening. Ben Whittaker (Robert De Niro) is a 70 year old widower who believes he still has a lot to offer the world. He applies for a senior internship programme at About The Fit, an online clothing company run by Jules Ostin (Anne Hathaway). Ben is assigned to work with Jules, who initially ignores him but soon finds his services indispensible. He becomes an increasingly large part of her working and family life, as she deliberates on whether or not to hire a CEO. The sweeping piano and orchestration employed by the film is calibrated to tug at the heartstrings and this is one of those films where you have to leave your cynical hat at the door. It's warmly endearing rather than laugh out loud funny, although those around me laughed heartily at scenes involving a break in and an overenthusiastic massage. I like Anne Hathaway a great deal and her character is similarly sympathetic, save for the quirky affectation of riding a b...

Yesterday was generally speaking a more positive day. Generally, I feel ok about myself when I've left the house and done something vaguely productive, whilst staying in all day leads to intense feelings of self loathing. Quite why this should be a surprise to me, I don't know. Anyway, that thing was the AAT's (Association of Accounting Technicians) career development day at Kings College. There were some interesting insights and observations into using LinkedIn and the AAT's online resources and a session on improving self-confidence*. What actually did give me some comfort was to get a sense of other people's experiences and to know that they are like me in terms of trying to get their foot on the ladder in a new career and having the same sorts of difficulties. It's given me a great deal to think about. I then headed into Holborn for some drinks. It was also good to see Chris (and his associated friends) before he buggers off to Helsinki, I assume he'...

I put Panic Stations onto my phone feeling a sense of trepidation, as both songs they had put out in the build up to the release of their sixth full length record had left me cold. Surely Motion City Soundtrack, one of my favourite bands, weren't going to deliver a stinker? The answer is no, but with a few caveats. It starts out promisingly enough, with vocalist and guitarist Justin Pierre uttering "Let's do this!" before launching into "Anything At All". It's a track that sees the band put their foot to the floor in a way that's pleasingly reminiscent of the raw sound of "I Am The Movie", their debut record. Then it's into an underwhelming trio that includes the aforementioned singles "TKO" and "Lose Control". The former is fine but unremarkable, the latter sounds like a bad Weezer song. It's probably the worst track the band have written. Panic Stations sees MCS moving away from the more polished production...

EDIT: I wrote some very negative stuff  on here on Friday night when I was in an absolutely terrible mood. While I think it's important to recognise when I am feeling low, I don't think it's necessary for me to write incredibly negative blogs about myself. Or if I'm going to do it, I should do it in a more eloquent way. It did however feature the quote "I spend far too time on social media in spite of the fact Facebook is full of unbearable self-aggrandising wank, idiots sharing nonsense and tedious fucking petitions". I fully stand by that sentiment. I also proceeded to hail Fulham's 4-0 victory over QPR and the redemption of Ross McCormack for his error on Tuesday night after he scored a brace. There were a fair few "We hate QPR" chants from the Fulham fans during the week. Much like a stopped clock being right twice a day, those chants are fitting twice a season. Those same fans were able to add the gleeful "You're getting fucked on...

It's probably time to assemble my thoughts on "Hope Fading Nightly" by Tellison, since I've listened to it something like eight times. In short, this record will speak to anyone in their 20s who is angry at themselves and the world about how things have turned out. I'm bang in the middle of that demographic. The lead single "Tact Is Dead" tackles that particular issue straight on ("Throw me into a Tube train, pay me the minimum wage. So I'll never earn more than my parents...). It's a big rock song that has set the tone for the rest of the record. "Helix and Ferman" is a singalong belter with an absolutely enormous opening riff that could easily be a single in its own right, as could the anthemic "Wrecker". "Rookie Of The Year" recalls the digital sampling of their debut album "Contact! Contact!" with a sporting metaphor that's a little on the nose. Generally speaking though, it's an al...

For me, this match was mostly about Stoke's 6 foor 7 inch striker Peter Crouch. He is one of my father's favourite footballers. I think this is mainly because he represents a throwback to the football of his youth, which was often based on getting the ball forward to a big "target man". Target men don't come much bigger than Crouch. There's also something brilliantly incongruous about watching a man of his height on a football field, like watching a giraffe attempt to rollerskate or a hippopotamus doing data entry. Crouch scored the only goal of the match in the 33rd minute, turning the ball home from about eight yards out. He was somewhat fortunate to evade a red card for two sliding challenges, but the problem with being that height is that sliding challenges last twice as long. Nonetheless there was a modicum of justification for the "you dirty lanky bastards" chant eminating from the Hammersmith End. Fulham rallied in the second half and shou...

Long term followers of this blog will be disappointed to hear that tomorrow's post will be on the subject of Fulham vs Stoke in the League Cup. And that today's post is simply a preview of tomorrow's post.

Darren Maskell and I returned to Up The Creek last night for Sunday Special, south east London's premier sabbath stand-up show. UTC has been refurbished since we last visited and the stage is now on the opposite side of the room. It's also been given a wood panelling effect and a brick wall backdrop rendolent of US comedy clubs in the 1980s. There are also various curios littered around the wall like brass instruments and what appeared to be a mannequin head. As MC John Robins pointed out, it gave the club the look of any number of midrange restaurants. Despite combatting a hangover, Robins was in decent form and elicited some interesting audience responses. Although one hopes he did a bit more research ahead of his appearance on an upcoming episode of "Drunk History" regarding the Battle of Waterloo. The crowd seemed be closer together which gave an improved atmosphere when compared to some of the gigs I've seen at Up The Creek. But that may well have had as mu...

As previously mentioned, I'm currently volunteering with Ben Uri on their "Out of Chaos" centenary exhibition at Somerset House. Their collection has a specific focus on Jewish emigre art. On Friday, I was wearing a stripey shirt. Woman: Are the stripes deliberate? Me: It's basically what I had in my wardrobe. Woman: I just thought it might be deliberate. You know, because the Jews wore stripes at Auschwitz. For the avoidance of doubt, Ben Uri have not asked for my attire to mimic the clothing worn by the victims of genocide. I reckon that any commentary on The Holocaust should be left to the handful of works in the expression that address that particular subject. I'm not sure that "The Fat 27 Year Old Bearded Man In The Striped Pajamas" would have been quite so compelling a story. I suspect such an idea might have been a stumbling block in procuring financial support from the Heritage Lottery Fund. All told, it's one of the more extraordinar...

A third visit to St Pancras Old Church this year to celebrate the release of Tellison's new record "Hope Fading Nightly". Railway Hotel (the solo project of Ross Witt) opened the show. It's a perfectly pleasant set but one lacking in identity and character. It's only during his penultimate track "Politicians" that he shows some genuine emotion. He could do with taking a leaf out of his friend Katie Malco's book. She has a beautiful voice and her 30 minutes on stage provides a performance of passion and intensity with several great (and quietly devastating) songs. She also has a fine line in deadpan wit, preceding her final song by requesting "Don't buy my stuff. Not even online. I don't want to make it". Terrific stuff. Tellison then proceed to give us an hour that's not so much cranked up to 11 as dialled back to 6, in deference to their surroundings. It's none the worse for that however, the anthemic "Wrecker...

Anyone reading my most recent posts in the week they were written will know that this blog is currently not up to snuff. Although if I recall correctly, I said that I would write a blog every day for a year. I didn't say anything about length. I may well go back and retrospectively edit some of them so that they meet an abitrary word count of my choosing. Anyway, never mind that. The good news is that Tellison's new record "Hope Fading Nightly" is out today, available in all good record shops, some bad record shops and is available to stream via Spotify and tellison.co.uk (at the time of writing). It's a total banger that encapsulates what it is to be young and sad. Anyone into indie rock owes it to themselves to listen to this. A full review will follow soon, as will a review of tonight's record release gig at the lovely St Pancras Old Church. It's also the start of the 2015 Rugby World Cup today, come on England and all that sort of thing. I'm qu...

Blog

I rallied from my sickbed to head into work today. I felt slightly manic after not leaving the house for two days. I don't know whether anyone has ever driven down Westerham Hill singing Wonder Years lyrics at the top of their lungs but "Came Out Swinging" seemed to match my mood. "My body feels rejected, I can't say that I blame it. My heart keeps saying stay young, my lower back it seems to disagree". Amen. Weather wise, it was a pretty wretched day but it did me good to get out of the house. Another poor excuse for a blog.

In the very recent past, a friend has pointed out to me that a) I have very little time left to write today's blog and b) I should write about my anger at Manchester United's performance in their 2-1 defeat to PSV Eindhoven in the Champions League this evening. He's referring to a tweet in which I described their performance as "absolutely fucking pathetic", which came about 45 seconds prior to the full time whistle. A little while ago, I instituted a policy of not letting football affect my moods or emotions outside of the 90 minutes I spent watching my team (teams really but Christ, let's not get into that now). So tonight's outburst was at the very least by the book.  It means I don't need to dwell on the staggering ineptitude of Juan Mata and his failure to know what to do with the ball when four yards out from the opposition goal. Nor the generally pedestrian performance when United had 33 minutes left to get back into the game, when previous ...

Darren Maskell and I headed for Peckham Plex for the closing night of the Peckham & Nunhead Free Film Festival, featuring a screening of Superbob. It's a comedy film developed by Brett Goldstein and John Drever. Goldstein plays the titular Superbob, the alter ego of Robert Kenner, who becomes a superhero after being struck by a meteorite and works for the Ministry of Defence under the stewardship of Teresa (Catherine Tate). The film follows Kenner on his union mandated day off, his relationship with his cleaner Dorris (Natalia Tena) and his attempts to go on a date with library worker June (Laura Haddock). Goldstein's performance alone is probably worth the ticket price and he convinces as both a superhero and as the meek, socially awkward everyman attempting to find love and acceptance. But Tena also impresses as the fiery Colombian whose initial conflict with Bob drives much of the comedy. As pointed out in the subsequent Q+A, this is a film in which the female characte...

i will talk about football here, sorry

This blog will contain a review of "Happy Now?" by Richard Herring, once I have seen it later today.

Richard Herring performed his stand-up show "Lord Of The Dance Settee" at the Leicester Square Theatre tonight. I will post a review here in the fullness of time.

I've hit the blog wall. But hey, we had a great run. I am unable to compose thoughts again today. Sorry.

I didn't make it out of the house today. Physically and mentally, I feel like complete shit. Not much more to say.

I'm a good two months behind the curve here but was pleased to discover that Peckham Plex was still playing "Amy", Asif Kapadia's documentary about the life of Amy Winehouse. It's a relatively straightforward chronological narrative, starting with an early home video of Amy singing "Happy Birthday" to one of her friends through to her untimely passing in 2011. The film sadly confirms Amy's theory early on that "I don't think I could handle fame. I think I'd go mad", as we watch this supremely talented young woman struggle under the pressure of becoming a worldwide celebrity. Amy's torturous relationship with Blake Fielder is also the subject of a great deal of scrutiny in this film. It's easy to believe that the two had a destructive effect on each other, but Fielder comes across as arrogant and vacuous. It's difficult to deny his role in her downward spiral too, introducing her to crack cocaine and heroin. It's ...

It is an international football week, with qualifying fixtures for Euro 2016 taking place. I'm largely disinterested in international football outside of the big tournaments but we're heading towards the business end now. Wales have not qualified for a European Championships or World Cup for 57 years and were denied qualification yesterday by Israel who held them to a 0-0 draw. Wales need a solitary win from their last two fixtures (one of which is against Andorra) to end the best part of 60 years of hurt. I'll be interested to see how they do next summer. They're a well organised side who seem to grind out tight encounters, occasionally thanks to a solitary world class talent in Gareth Bale. Northern Ireland's task was the same, beat Hungary to qualify for next year's showpiece in France. A largely uneventful match burst into life in the last 20 minutes, with a goalkeeping clanger and a curious red card putting the Irish on the backfoot. An injury time poache...

When I bought the ticket for this, seeing another show at Union Chapel was almost as large an attraction of seeing Jim Adkins from Jimmy Eat World play solo for the first time. It's an aesthetically beautiful venue with a uniquely intimate atmosphere that's perfect for acoustic acts. Jodie Marie opens the show with only an electric piano for company. She possesses a captivating soulful voice and her 30 minute set breezes by. I sense that certain songs in her set probably have a greater impact in their full band arrangements, but the 24 year old demonstrates great potential here. Jim Adkins' set can be split into three categories: songs he has recently recorded as a solo artist, cover tracks and stripped back cuts from Jimmy Eat World's back catalogue. He opens with "Love Don't Wait" (from the first category), which feels a little pedestrian for my taste. Later on, the energetic "Hell" proves more promising. To date, he's only released a h...

I have, over the last few years, suffered with depression. Or at least I believe that to be true. There are some days where I'm not altogether certain whether I do actually suffer from depression or whether I'm just a total arsehole who is incapable of doing what he needs to do to join everyone else in the real world. You know, the sort of person who is habitually demonised by the tabloid press. In the 24 hours between the end of Thursday and the start of Saturday (you may know it as Friday), I slept for a total of 15 hours. I'm not altogether sure whether I slept for that long because of my depression, because I'm suffering from a sense of lethargy brought on by obesity, or whether I'm just a lazy piece of shit. I staggered out of bed close to 7pm to go to the gym. I know what my old CBT therapist would have said about that. That while I spent the overwhelming majority of the day asleep, I succeeded in doing something productive to salvage the day...

I've been a fan of Marc Maron's stand-up and his hugely popular podcast "WTF With Marc Maron" for a long time. Yesterday presented the first opportunity for me to see him live at the Queen Elizabeth Hall on the South Bank. As Maron noted early on, it's a venue that sacrifices sound quality for visitor comfort, as sound echoes off the concrete walls. Fortunately I was in row G and this didn't detract from my experience, but it might have been a different case further back in the 900 seat auditorium. First up was Jarleth Regan with a brief 15 minute set. He appealed to the podcast fans in the room by mimicking one of Maron's frequently used intros before ending on a neat routine about attempting to retain physical fitness as a 35 year old man and his response to a challenge set by a local keep fit group. Then it was straight into Maron. This post feels a little redundant, as I doubt there is anything negative I could say about last night's performan...

I was going to write about the comedy drama series "Last Man On Earth" today but don't really have the time. I'll add this to the growing pile of blogs that I say I'll get back to but probably won't.

Here is Against Me! playing "True Trans Soul Rebel" at the Reading Festival this weekend. I think it's bloody great. They're releasing a live record on Friday entitled "23 Live Sex Acts" that I'm very much looking forward to. A handful of tracks are already available on Spotify. I've also been listened to The Front Bottoms a lot on Spotify recently. They return with their third album "Back On Top" later this month. New single "Laugh Till I Cry" takes their indie rock stylings in a more pop direction to good effect. All bodes well for an assault for the mainstream, if you take their name out of the equation. Also coming back for a third full length record is Allison Weiss, with "New Love", building on last year's excellent "Remember When" EP. The first track to be released is "Golden Coast", which has an 80s sensibility with sweeping sythesisers that's reminiscent of the likes of Blond...

I have spent most of today trying to sleep off an illness developed during yesterday's work shift. That has had the positive effect of sleeping through most of Transfer Deadline Day and the nonsense Sky Sports News hyperbole that comes with it. The upshot is that David De Gea will be staying at Manchester United for the next few months and neither they nor Real Madrid come out of the whole sorry saga particularly well. I did have the opportunity to catch up on Andrew Marr's documentary on Churchill as an artist for BBC4. I was quite pleased that there wasn't a lot in it that I didn't already know, but there were a couple of interesting tidbits. For example, whilst I knew the story of Churchill painting once during the Second World War in Marrakech for President Roosevelt, I was unaware that it is now owned by Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. It was also interesting to hear from Edmund Murray's son discussing his father's role as bodyguard and fellow amateur artis...