Writer's Block

Today was one of a number of days recently that I've let get away from me. I had a sort of depressive relapse over the weekend and I'm not at my best. I have an exam looming over me in nine days time that I have revised but still don't feel mentally prepared for. I basically just want this year to end and start afresh in January, when I know I need to start making some big changes in my life. I turn 30 next year and I'm still left with the nagging sense that my 20s were an enormous chasm of nothing and life is passing me by. But as I said to my father this evening, "You've got to keep living until you die".

Another day, another Frank Turner show. The last time I saw Turner he was trying to gee up an O2 Arena crowd ahead of a Blink 182 headline set. Here he dials it down a couple of notches and what we have is a more mellow set, opening with new track "There She Is", a ballad reminiscent of "Tunnel of Love" era Bruce Springsteen. It's a subdued start to the gig, which is only remedied with the jaunty "Recovery" and the heavier live version of "Long Live The Queen", bringing the crowd at the Hippodrome to life. "Songbook" features reimagined tracks from Turner's back catalogue and we're treated to a couple of them here. "Polaroid Picture" and "Glorious You" work so well in their slower incarnations that it's difficult to go back and listen to the original recordings. Turner's next record of original material is due out next year and it promises to have a more political emphasis, as evidenced throug...

Everyone's favourite Peruvian bear returns for a sequel. This time Paddington (Ben Whishaw) is imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit. Can the Brown family save him and bring the real culprit to justice? There's no radical tinkering with the narrative formula of the first film here. It's essentially more of the same and that's no bad thing. The young bear has a lovely line in slapstick and comedic facial expressions, as demonstrated in one particularly memorable sequence involving The Shard. The film is a "Who's Who" of British acting talent and there are many enjoyable appearances from the likes of Joanna Lumley, Ben Miller, Peter Capaldi and Brendan Gleeson (as the terrifically gruff convict Knuckles McGinty). But it's Hugh Grant who steals the movie as the dastardly Phoenix Buchanan, a washed up old thespian desperate to relive his glory days and willing to go to any lengths to do it. It's a warm hug of a film and every bit as enterta...

It's revision then work then revision then work at the moment. My exam retake is on the 29th and I have very little time for this endeavour at the moment. I have some vaguely exciting news in the pipeline that I'm hoping will be confirmed soon, but that's about it for the time being.

I have now received a 280 character limit on Twitter. Thank goodness. I no longer feel deprived, nor is there any need for me to edit myself. Now I can finally express myself and my ideas in full. I have waited for this day for such a long time. I don't know what to say. Irksome.

I am yet to receive a 280 character limit on Twitter. This is rather irksome. I need more than 140 characters to express myself in full. Bah.

Off to Islington Academy last night for an all too infrequent headline show from The Rocket Summer. TRS is the project of Bryce Avary, who plays all of his instruments on his predominantly pop-rock records. Obviously he requires back up in a live setting, but still flits about the stage from guitar to keyboard to a 2nd microphone for vocal loops. And then back again. He was playing his third record "Do You Feel" in its entirety for its tenth anniversary, which is top heavy with stone cold bangers, including "So Much Love", a pop song so infectious that it must be a chart topper in at least one alternative reality. It surprises me that Avary hasn't acquired a larger fanbase. An answer might be found in the bouncy "A Song Is Not A Business Plan", in which he sings "This is me, singing words I actually mean. I won't comprise this thing just to make it". There's an appealing earnestness and sincerity in what he does that never becomes...

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I ended up watching 5 innings of the 7th and final match of the World Series last night, despite my general lack of enthuasism for baseball. It may have been the "winner take all" nature of it, but I found it much more compelling than previous matches I've seen. I ended up feeling rather sorry for Yu Darvish who gave up the 5 runs that eventually saw Houston Astros triumph over the LA Dodgers. I did some digging and discovered that their pitcher Clayton Kershaw is on something like £435,000 a week and is considered to be the best in the league. Which rather begs the question why don't you start with him in the biggest game in the sport. Especially as he struck out the Astros fairly quickly in the initial innings I saw him pitch. But I'm not an expert. On the offchance that any baseball enthusiasts are reading this, feel free to enlighten me.

A happy birthday to my sister Alex, who is edging closer and closer to middle age. With me following not too far behind. On reflection, my parents can take some comfort in their 50% hit rate in terms of successful children with decent careers. A new series of "Modern Life Is Goodish" with Dave Gorman started yesterday on Dave. The world may have gone mad, but there's still joy to be had in seeing Gorman messing around with Powerpoint and casting his eye over weird and wonderful things in the world. This one includes forensic analysis of Weetabix and its Asda-brand equivalent with a guest appearance from comedian, promoter and Doctor Who aficionado Toby Hadoke. Watch it. I also had a Vampire Frapuccinno today. It was underwhelming.