Year: 2005

Reading time: 2 mins

Seems that Mr. Ramsay is in the papers again – no such thing as bad press, right? – for showing the deaths of six turkeys. For once I happened to have watched the show, and can admit that it was a bit of a shock (geddit!!).

For those who aren’t aware, Gordon Ramsay and his family have been looking after some turkeys for the past few months. The primary aim was to slaughter them and eat one for Christmas dinner, one of those “life lesson” things I guess. Fairy muff you might say, that’s his business etc etc.

Of course it’s slightly different as, when it came time to slaughter the birds, you saw it all. The method of slaughter is to insert an electric probe into the mouth of the bird, flip a switch and pass 600 volts through the animal until it dies. Apparently this is the most humane way (according to the farmer who was providing the service, but then he would say that…) and was described in detail – “Flip the switch, watch for it’s eyes to roll back… there we go” he intoned as the bird, shocked into rigidity, spends the last few seconds of it’s life straining every muscle and sinew… perhaps painfully, perhaps not, we’ll never know.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I fully understand that for me to enjoy eating meat (and I do) something has to die. And whilst I did find the images being broadcast a little… unpalatable?… it certainly won’t stop me eating turkey again. Was it too graphic to be shown at tea-time on a Saturday night? Well I’d argue that the audience for The F Word isn’t young children, or at least shouldn’t be, and if the adults that were watching it found it offensive maybe, after the first of the five birds had been slaughtered (executed?) they should’ve taken the hint and turned over?

On the flip side of this is the fact that it took just seven people to complain about this to trigger Ofcom into action. What kind of culture are we creating here? A handful of people complain and the PC-sensitive ‘authorities’ leap into action and start banning things, left, right and centre. It’s getting ridiculous.

As for Gordon Ramsay but I hope he comes out with a statement on this, and I sincerely hopes it consists of little more than the abbreviated F word used in the title of his show. This madness has to end sometime.

Reading time: 2 mins

There is nothing better than lying, slightly bedraggled and hungover, on the couch all day watching crap TV and classic movies like Clash of the Titans. I’d forgotten just how spectacularly bad the latter was, although to be fair to the actors it can’t have been easy to work with that dialogue. Fantastically awful, I could barely take my eyes off the screen.

Louise was out for the day (and most of the night it turned out) so I had complete autonomy. I ate nothing but toast, drank a mixture of diluting pear and blackcurrant and then fresh orange and mango juices … um… not mixed together I hasten to add, and enjoyed a lovely little tube of dipped strawberry pieces from kchocolat, chocolate therapy indeed.

Thankfully my boxers remained both on my person and out of sight for the night, and whilst I do sincerely thank you all for your suggestions I failed to drink anything but Southern Comfort (half a bottle there of plus a couple of ‘hotel measures’), Stella (only one pint but it’s STILL going to get the blame for my sore head), red wine (two glasses), tequila (one slammer) and … well that was quite enough.

Dancing was had, boobs were fondled (with permission! honestly!!), footrubs were administered (three of), a shoulder was used (for drunken rambling) and a nipple was bitten (still smarts a little). In other words it was a fairly standard Christmas company party. Bloody good fun it was too (here’s some proof).

And the comedy incident of the night, for me at least, was when we finally vacated one of the rooms at 3 am (and sincerest apologies to the women who I startled in the corridor as she stuck her head out of the door to see what the noise was.. I don’t THINK she was completely naked…). Everyone pilled into one of the lifts and rather than add my bulk to the experience I hung back to get another one. The doors closed and I’m left alone in the corridor, watching for the number to change so I can push the button to summon another lift. The number doesn’t move, and I can still hear the drunken bums I work with..

“Push the fuckin button!”
“I DID… didn’t I?”
“Where the fuck are the buttons?”
“Whoa… it’s moving..”
“No… that was just D jumping up and down..”

And so on for about 5 minutes.

Plans today to go to the cinema, but as yet we are bother just trying to summon the energy to tidy the house. In fact I can hear the dulcet tones of my beloved echoing up the stairs as I type… better turn this music… up.

Reading time: 3 mins

Hello? HELLO!!

Sorry, my ears are still ringing. Fuck me, that band are loud. They are also quiet when needed, funny, engaging, and very energetic. And that’s just the front man. More to come, but first….

Ranty bit
Rock Steady security. What a jumped up bunch of oiks they are. In the queue at the cloakroom on the way out they admonished one guy for coming into the queue to join his mates. No-one else minded but they hauled two of them aside, talked at them for about ten minutes and then let them rejoin the queue where they’d come from… what the feck was the point of that?

P.S. You don’t need three people to tell us to ‘keep moving’ along the queue. The British public is very adept at queuing, it’s in-bred I think, but hey maybe without you guys there to keep us right we’d all just have stood there, wondering how on earth we were going to get our coats back… sheesh..

Disappointing bit
Dear large rock band (or dear S.E.C.C.) I’d much rather fork out an extra £10-15 and hear you in a stadium than put up with the dodgy sound in the big red shed. Suffice to say that R.E.M. sounded better at Loch Lomond, and I was about 500 metres away from them, last night I was no more than 60 or 70 metres yet still some of the songs sounded bad.

The good bits
Overall though this was an excellent set by a tight band that just kept cranking out the tunes. The opening four of five ripped past before the venerable Mr. Grohl paused to tell us that Glasgow was the place they always enjoyed coming to and was probably the best place to play a gig in the world. Every gig I’ve been to in Glasgow has the act saying the same thing, something I don’t recall hearing when I’ve been to see other acts in other places…

They plundered their back catalogue for some old favourites, including the not often played This Is A Call from their first album, and we got a lesson in showmanship with a nicely deconstructed version of Everlong which Dave held on his own for most of the song. What a feeling that must be, to have 10,000 people singing along to you and your guitar.

We even got to see Taylor (the drummer) singing one of the tracks from the ‘soft/acoustic’ disc of the new album, with Dave (the… umm… other drummer) taking a seat behind the skins and going at it in his usual quiet and restrained fashion (there was a certain sense of embarassment as, on the big video screens they had above the stage, the cameraman was focussing more on Dave playing the drums than Taylor who was singing the song! No doubt about who’s band we were seeing).

It’s been said before that Dave Grohl is the nicest guy in rock, and this comes across during the interaction between some of the songs when you genuinely get the feeling that he’s just dead chuffed you’ve turned up and that he’s having a good a time as you. He’s got that whole ‘self-effacing’ charm thing down pat, and you felt like he was talking to you rather than just obligingly filling the gaps between songs.

Highlight of the evening was both Learn to Fly (for personal reasons) and inevitably both Monkey Wrench and the closing All My Life. Not a bad gig for my first experience of the Foo Fighters live, it certainly won’t be the last.

As the lights came up and we all started the exodus, I experienced something new; the sound of the assembled crowd singing along to the background music. Maybe the fact that it was ACDC’s Highway to Hell had something to do with it, but I’d warrant that it wasn’t by accident. A great show, by a great showman, with a great band. What more can you ask?

Setlist (tbc)

In Your Honour
No Way Back
My Hero
Best of You
Up in Arms
Learn to Fly
Times Like These
The One
Stacked Actors
Big Me
Generator
Have it All
Breakout
Everlong
Monkey Wrench
———-
This is a Call
Cold Day
All My Life

Addendum
Foo Forum is already full of people bitching at the shortness of the set, but equally Dave Grohl is ill so I’m just glad they played. That might also explain the dodgy vocal mix on some of the tracks as he was obviously struggling.

Reading time: 2 mins

It’s getting close to the end of the year and the first ‘best of’ lists have begun to surface. I’m a huge fan of such lists because of my constant belief that I’ve missed some cultural zeitgeist or other, so much so that I am currently running about a year behind everyone else in a desperate attempt to keep up.

Aside from the usual culprits – book, cd, dvd, movie – on the more musically inclined lists there is always the ‘best gig of the year’ to be considered. And therein lies a sticky (literally for some venues) problem.

How do you rate the ‘best gig’? Is it the music? The atmosphere? The energy of the band on stage? The interaction with the crowd? The interaction IN the crowd? Or that undefinable something that pushes beyond your expectation? And after considering allof that do you also need to consider how much your pre-gig expectation will come to weigh on your decision?

And finally there is our old favourite ’emotional attachment’ to consider as well. Of all the gigs I’ve been to this year, a couple have had a definite advantage because they are already benefitting from a non-musical memory or influence. In that sense, given that I’m already pre-disposed to the gig itself, it’s quite possibly unfair to compare these gigs with others.

For example.
The Kings of Leon gig (last year) was excellent. They translated the album in a tight, powerful live act, handled the audience well and paced the gig well. It was easily one of the best gigs I attended. However, whilst the R.E.M. concert was musically better than I had expected, it wasn’t on a par with the Kings of Leon gig. Despite that I have no qualms stating that the R.E.M. gig was better. Not only was it in my ‘hometown’, but it was with the same group of friends that, in the very same spot some 14 years before, I saw Runrig. Now that’s entirely unfair on the Kings of Leon but hey, it’s not MY fault, right?

I have two gigs left this year. Next week I’m off to see Björn Again, and tonight is a gig which I’ve been anticipating for about eight years.

I bought their first album on the back of one song, something which broke my long standing “always hear three good songs before purchasing the CD” rule, and passed up the opportunity to see them the next year. I still regret that decision.

Since then I’ve not been able to see them when they appeared at Glasgow Green in a double-headline with the Red Hot Chili Peppers as I was boarding a plane at the time, nor when they headlined T in the Park this year as I was in Torquay. They’ve visited Scotland every year since I bought their first album and I’ve never managed to see them live. Until tonight.

And this is what I mean. I have such eager anticipation of the gig tonight, and that anticipation rides on the back of over eight years of yearning, that I’m worried it either won’t meet my expectations or that it will gain extra credibility because I’m finally seeing them live. It’s almost unfair to the other gigs I’ve been to this year.

Anyway, I have the t-shirt, I’ve got iTunes primed with their last couple of albums, and I’m certain of one thing. The Foo Fighters will rock.