Wednesday
30th June
That
lucky bastard Ross Halfin, back from a few European shows
with the ‘Big Four Of Thrash’, has emailed
saying that he thought of me during this trip. Not while
the bands were playing, but “seeing the score of
4-1” in the England-Germany game. Thanks, Ross.
What a nice man you are, re-opening the sores like that.
Incredibly, there are reports that David Beckham –
a man with no coaching badges and less brain cells than
the average gerbil – could become the nation’s
next footie manager. “We could do a lot worse,”
believes one of the UK’s newspapers. Yeah, but only
if the job goes to Mr Bean. Or A**n Mu***ry.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tuesday
29th June
We’re
into another Classic Rock production deadline scenario,
so I’m rather busy. On top of which, by the end
of the week I must deliver some text for the official
programme for the High Voltage festival, which draws nearer
by the day. Last night Ian Hunter agreed to chat a little
about his relationship with Joe Elliott and the set that
both will play with the Down ‘N’ Outz at Victoria
Park on July 25. It’s always good to talk to Ian,
one of the great gentlemen of rock ‘n’ roll.
Ask a question and he’ll give a considered, honest
answer. For instance, I wondered how important Joe had
been in preserving the legacy of Mott The Hoople during
the pre-reunion years (all 35 of them!). “Throughout
the 1980s and 90s, no one was the slightest bit interested
in Mott The Hoople,” was Hunter’s response.
“It was down to people like Joe Elliott and Mick
Jones [of The Clash] and a couple of magazine writers
to keep the flag flying.” See what I mean? No bullshit.
An
email from Toby Jepson says he has left Gun in an “amicable”
split. The band was having problems attracting the audiences
its music deserved, so it’s not exactly a seismic
shock. But it is a shame; I was very impressed by the
group’s comeback mini-album, ‘Popkiller’.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Monday
28th June
‘Quietly
optimistic’, my arse. Once again England under-performed
at the 2010 World Cup, crashing out of the competition
with chilling inevitability to the dreaded, ice-cool Krauts.
I’m amazed how meekly I accepted yesterday’s
humiliating 4-1 defeat. Maybe it had something to do with
how close my club side came to going out of existence?
It might have helped that I was in the toilet for the
first goal, then in the kitchen pouring a large one when
Germany doubled their lead. The question remains: Would
England have hauled themselves back into the game had
England’s their second Shades Of 1966 ‘goal’
have stood? Debatable, but doubtful. And so we must wait
another four years to put ourselves through this heartache
all over again, always assuming whoever is managing the
team (it won’t be Capello) can guide them through
qualification. At least England trounced the Aussies at
cricket… AGAIN!
Defying
the laws of drunkenness and gravity, I somehow lurched
off to Camden to check out Israeli prog-metallers Orphaned
Land at the Underworld. It was fitting that they would
play London on a sport-fixated day as the last time I
spoke to Kobi Farhi, the frontman used a football metaphor
to illustrate the fact that OL’s fan-base includes
both Jewish and Muslim fans, who sing along to the lyrics
in Arabic or Hebrew at their concerts. He replied: “I’ve
learned more about spirituality from those fans and being
in Orphaned Land than from any priest or rabbi. Music
can enter your heart like a bullet; it’s a common
knowledge. It can be the beginning of a dialogue. I am
still amazed when that happens at our gigs, it’s
a bit like fans of Manchester United cheering on Liverpool,
isn’t it?” Yeah, it’s a good analogy.
And Orphaned Land may well to turn out to be an extremely
important group indeed.
Swamped
with Middle eastern-sounding samples but rich and deeply
hypnotic in texture, their live show places them more
on the ‘metal’ side of the fence than the
‘prog’ one, but their class shone throughout.
A sizeable chunk of the new, conceptual disc ‘The
Never Ending Way Of OrwarriOR’ and some of the best
bits of its predecessor 2004’s ‘Mabool’,
provided the backbone of the set, which ran as follows:
‘Birth Of The Three Olat Hatamid’, ‘Disciples
Of The Sacred Oath, Part 2’, ‘Baraka’,
‘Kiss Of Babylon’, ‘Sapari’, ‘From
Broken Vessels’, ‘The Path (Part 1) –
Treading Through Darkness’, ‘Ocean Land’,
‘M i?’, ‘The Warrior’, ‘El
Meod Na’ala’, ‘In Thy Never Ending Way’,
‘The Beloved’s Cry’/’Orphaned
Land – The Storm Still Rages Inside...’, ‘Thee
By The Father I Pray’, ‘Norra el Norra’
and ‘Ornaments Of Gold’.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sunday
27th June
It’s
a big, big day of sport. The weather is set to fall into
the ‘scorchio!’ category. And the evening
is marked by my first live sighting of Orphaned Land,
the Israeli prog-metallers whose current (Steven Wilson-mixed)
album ‘The Never Ending Way Of OrwarriOR’,
is a bit of a monster. England’s showdown with Germany
is set to be a real humdinger, especially given that Franz
Beckenbauer recently dismissed Germany’s opponents
as “stupid”, insisting his nation’s
players are in “physically better condition”
than our own. I suggest that the FA appoints Franz –
who preceded these comments by suggesting we are a kick
and run team – as Head Of Motivation: Don Fabio
needn’t even write a pre-game team talk. And you
know what? I don’t know what I’m basing this
on, but I feel quietly optimistic that my homeland will
progress to the Quarter-Finals.
Meanwhile,
England’s cricketers, already two games up against
the Aussies, can seal the series of one-dayers with a
third triumph at Old Trafford. Avenging last summer’s
embarrassing 6-1 trouncing, Andrew Strauss’ side
have so far looked irresistible against the tourists.
The booze is chilled… as you’ll have gathered,
I cannot say the same about my own state of excitement!!!
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Saturday
26th June
Thank
the living fugg for that; Crystal Palace FC’s future
is almost certainly assured and a points deficit seems
unlikely after those that were owed significant sums bowed
to a CVA (Company Voluntary Agreement) during yesterday’s
meeting at Selhurst Park. In a month’s time the
club could be out of administration. Just like the news
that QP-Haha appear to have given up their disgraceful
pursuit of Darren Ambrose now that CPFC 2010 are in control,
that’s music to my ears!
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Friday
25th June
Wow…
I cannot believe that Italy have crashed out of the World
Cup. Last nite the holders lost 3-2 to Slovakia. I didn’t
see the entire game, said by some to have been the best
of the tournament so far, but its highlights suggested
that despite being comprehensively outplayed at times,
the Azzurri had cause to complain about a couple of key
refereeing decisions. Nevertheless, the fact that Italy
finished bottom – yes, bottom – of Group F
says it all.
I
was unable to watch the game as I took my two young sons
to a Wembley TV studio where we had tickets to see one
of their favourite shows, The Cube, being filmed. Fronted
by Philip Schofield, the programme is about contestants
pitting their wits against various trials, all conducted
in a huge, computerised cube. It works well on the small
screen, but many of the show’s graphics and flashy
bits are added afterwards, and there was lots of stopping
and starting during the filming. Nevertheless, it was
the lads’ first experience of being around camera
crews and production assistants, and they were quite excited.
Sadly, there was also a warm-up man, a tiresome individual
whose alleged ‘jokes’ were more irritating
than a marching band of vuvuzelas. I knew it was only
a matter of time before he singled out yours truly, and
so it proved. I didn’t see Schofield in his stage
role of Joseph (of Technicolour Dream Coat fame), but
I’m assuming it demanded that he wore some kind
of mullet wig or grew his hair. This would explain why
the audience, Mr Schofield and my kids all though it side-splittingly
hilarious that the glorified fluffer announced, “Hey
Philip, I think that’s your son sitting over there”,
followed by a very poor impersonation of Ozzy Osbourne.
What an absolute prize plum. I merely shook my head in
weary resignation and let them all get on with it.
This
morning over breakfast I asked whether the boys had enjoyed
their night out. The reply was entirely predictable: “It
was fantastic when that bloke took the mickey out of you
for being Philip Schofield’s son.” Bah.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Thursday
24th June
…
And … Breathe… and relax!! A precious first
half goal from Jermain Defoe gave England the victory
over Slovenia that they needed to progress past the World
Cup’s group stages. The secret of the team’s
vastly improved performance was later revealed by Don
Fabio: “Yesterday evening [the players] drank beer
before the game.” You know it makes sense. And so
a clash with the ‘old rivals’ – Deutschland
– is set up for Sunday. Apart from joy that we were
still in the competition, my first reaction was: ‘Oh
no, that means I cannot attend Orphaned Land’s rescheduled
gig at the Underworld’. However, I soon realised
that Eng vs The Krauts kicks off at 3pm, so – assuming
that come the final whistle I am still able to walk in
a straight line – it’s quite possible to do
both.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wednesday
23rd June
Much
to the amusement of vocalist Hansi Kürsch and guitarist
André Olbrich, I wore my England shirt to last
night’s face to face interview with German metal
band Blind Guardian. Before nattering about the group’s
excellent new album, ‘At The Edge Of Time’,
we discussed the unlikely twists and turns of the tournament
(by that point, the French were already packing their
bags). Hans and André were grateful that, in common
with England, the fate of their own national side remains
in the hands of its players. We didn’t dwell upon
the (now extremely remote) possibility of an England-Germany
rematch, but the equally footie-mad Kürsch pointed
out a piece of trivia that hadn’t occurred to me;
namely that the last four Blind Guardian albums were all
released in World Cup years… ‘Nightfall In
Middle-Earth’ during the French 1998 campaign, ‘A
Night At The Opera’ in 2002 (South Korea and Japan),
‘A Twist In The Myth’ colliding with Germany
in 2006 and now ‘At The Edge Of Time’…
spooky!
Talking
of which… England’s World Cup D-day has arrived.
A victory over Slovenia will see the Three Lions progress
to the final 16. I’m not exactly optimistic that
it will happen, but my routine is already planned: Guzzle
the first drink at midday (switching off the phone and
PC); a nice soak in the bath; walk the dog; put up the
flags; start chewing nails; lie face down in a pool of
puke by 3.28pm. Given that Fab’s men qualified for
the tournament in such style, the possibility/likelihood
of such a premature exit is downright inexcusable. England
expects, it’s time to start delivering.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tuesday 22nd June
Yesterday’s
interviews included a brief but pleasant phone chat with
Fairport Convention’s Simon Nicol who revealed the
origins of the band’s three-day festival Cropredy,
which has lasted for three decades. “It began as
an adjunct to the village fête in either 1975 or
’76,” said the rhythm guitarist and frontman.
“Two of the band lived in Cropredy and we used to
borrow the village hall for rehearsal. That first year
it was entirely for the village’s benefit and it
grew little by little, year by year.” With Status
Quo and Little Feat due play this year, the 2010 bill
is pretty impressive.
Tony
Clarkin was making the most of the glorious weather when
I called for some quotes about Magnum’s new five-disc
boxed set ‘The Gathering’ and the upcoming
spot at the High Voltage Festival. “I’m out
in the garden, writing lyrics,” he told me contentedly.
It seems that the music for the new studio album is already
completed with five of its tracks fully recorded, right
down to Bob Catley’s vocals. “It’s going
to called ‘The Visitation’. I don’t
know whether anyone will be pissed off that I’ve
told you that,” cackled Tony, “but feel free
to shout it from the highest mountain!” Consider
it duly shouted…
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Monday
21st June
After
all the worries regarding the survival of Crystal Palace,
how reassuring it was to book my travel to the club’s
first away fixture of the new season. So… it’s
a case of being Barnsley-bound on August 14. A day of
football in shirtsleeves and gallons of cider. The bookies
have made Palace the second favourites to relegated but
fuck it… Given what almost happened, I simply cannot
wait.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sunday
20th June
Wayne
Rooney has ‘apologised’ for yesterday’s
post-match outburst… if that’s what you want
to call it. Oh well, it could be argued that the farcical
goings-on in the French camp – Nicolas Anelka has
been sent home from the tournament after having allegedly
told boss Raymond Domenech: “Go and get fucked,
you dirty son of a whore” – and Italy’s
failure to overcome the plucky New Zealanders, put the
headaches of Capello’s men into some sort of perspective.
My
photographer buddy Marty Moffatt has posted a slideshow
of pix from FM’s spot at the Download Festival.
Check them out HERE.
The one Marty didn’t get is HERE.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Saturday
19th June
Regular
as clockwork, the World Cup comes around every four years,
right? Every football fan knows that. And they make plans
accordingly, do they not? So being forced to conduct a
phone interview with Pepper Keenan two hours before England’s
game with Algeria was a tad frustrating (“This is
the only available slot,” insisted his despairing
PR, “to be honest, it’s a miracle I got it”).
Precious pre-game beverage consumption time was eroded
away – though I admit to having imbibed a few discreet
liveners before placing the call to Down’s immensely
likable guitarist – and my plan to attend the 50th
birthday party of Luke Morley from The Union was rudely
scuppered. Oh well, I did it anyway and it was good to
talk to Pepper for the first time in quite a few years.
With a bit of an annoying bounceback on the line I don’t
think he noticed, nor cared, that I’d had some cider.
In
the end, not having to watch England versus Algeria amid
a party full of strangers turned out beneficial. The result
of the “must-win” clash? A dour, depressing,
goalless stalemate. Capello’s men could not hold
onto the ball or create any chances of note, lacking guile
and indeed intent from the kick off to the final whistle.
Our performance was so underwhelming and embarrassing,
England made the Inspector Clouseau-like French look like
world-bearing superheroes. Qualification for the knockout
stages remains possible but England must overcome current
table-toppers Slovenia, who will most probably park the
bus in front of their goal. Wednesday afternoon will be
interesting to say the least. I shall be switching off
the phone and PC at midday, and if Jimi Hendrix wants
an interview he can darned well wait till Thursday morning.
As
Wayne Rooney left the pitch, a TV camera caught him exclaiming:
“Nice to see your own fans booing you. If that’s
what loyal support is... for fuck’s sake.”
Well… what do you expect, you overpaid waste of
space? The fans spent how many years scrimping and saving
thousands of pounds to travel to South Africa and you
couldn’t even be arsed to chase the ball in the
last ten minutes? What an egocentric ignoramus. It makes
me fucking furious.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Friday
18th June
Having
come perilously close to going out of existence, the name
of Crystal Palace FC features proudly in the fixtures
for the 2010/’11 season, which were announced yesterday.
The Eagles have also confirmed that George Burley, formerly
of Ipswich and Southampton, is the club’s latest
boss. Burley has a decent enough record in domestic football
and is, I’m forced to admit, probably the best person
that could realistically have been hoped for. That the
consortium has seen fit to appoint a candidate with international
experience – a factually accurate statement if you
consider Scotland a real nation – says much of their
ambition. However, the guy is known to like a wee bevvy
and was it just me, or did he seem ever so slightly half-cut
at the press conference to announce his arrival, struggling
to pronounce the word ‘administration’? Burley
has said that his first job is keeping Darren Ambrose,
last season’s top scorer, at Selhurst in the face
of multiple approaches from QP-Haha. George handed Ambrose
his professional debut at the age of 17, when both were
at Ipswich. If Darren stays I will take back everything
I’ve said about him being a piss-head. In fact,
I’ll personally buy a crate of Buckfast wine and
have it FedExed to his house.
Like
I said, the fixtures are out. My eagle eye sped down the
page to the final weekend of October, hoping that CPFC
would have some humdrum away game at a ground I’d
visited many times before, thus allowing me to attend
all three days of the Firefest. Wouldn’t it be superb
if we faced Nottm Florist at the City Ground on October
30? Of course, such hopes were dashed. Home to Swansea.
Bah! So it’s the Sunday alone – the strongest
of the three Firefest days, it must be said – for
me, I suspect.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Thursday
17th June
Oh,
how I laughed yesterday as Spain lost to lowly Switzerland.
I actually stopped work to watch the game’s last
15 minutes as the smug expectancy of all those Mediterranean
faces turned very long and sullen by the final whistle.
As someone that always supports the underdog it was the
best moment of the World Cup so far. On a more frustrating
note, H.E.A.T. have announced that the rumours regarding
the departure of lead singer Kenny Leckremo are true.
Although the Swedish melodic rock band’s statement
claims “we part as friends and brothers” there’s
an undercurrent of bitterness. Why else state that “Kenny
has been struggling with voice related health issues”?
Past experience confirms that it’s always tough
to replace a singer, especially one as charismatic, likeable
and gifted as Leckremo. More’s the pity, I’ve
a nasty feeling that H.E.A.T. will struggle to recover
from such a body blow.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wednesday
16th June
Following
the cancellation of Ratt’s London date I didn’t
fancy the rigmarole of trying to wangle an Aerosmith ticket,
so headed over to the Barfly to see Enuff Z’Nuff
instead. Before the show my friend John Dryland and I
sank several pints of fermented apple juice, watching
in escalating disbelief and amusement as Brazil tried
to find a way past the tournament’s rank outsiders
North Korea. That it took the five-times World Cup winners
almost an hour to do so, before leaking an 89th minute
goal (sadly irrelevant as the Samba Boys ended up sneaking
home 2-1) offered welcome consolation after England’s
own earlier underachievement. It was more like watching
dung than Dunga, though how Elano saved Brazil’s
blushes by firing home from such a tight angle was truly
impressive to behold.
Enuff
Z’Nuff’s set was great fun, though the Chicagoans
never do themselves too many favours, ambling onto the
stage after they were scheduled to begin and procrastinating
before a haphazard, hastily curtailed 65-minute set. I’m
told that last night’s display was pretty much identical
to what they offered last weekend at the Download Festival,
and in fairness the group **did** seem reluctant to leave
the stage but they were forced to finish prematurely by
the venue’s staff. “We’ve got a new
record company, new agent – you’ll be seeing
more of us, I promise,” huffed a departing Chip
Znuff. Their inherent unpredictability, combined with
the modest size of the audience (even for such a tiny
club as the Barfly) serves to dilute any optimism generated
by the heavily plugged and admittedly excellent new disc,
‘Dissonance’. Here’s the set-list: ‘Heaven
Or Hell’, ‘We’re All Alright’,
‘Saturday’, ‘There Goes My Heart’,
‘Baby Loves You’, ‘Dissonance’,
‘The Beast’, ‘Lazy Dazy’, ‘High’,
‘Rock ‘N’ Roll World’, ‘Wheels’,
‘Fly High Michelle’ and ‘New Thing’.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tuesday
15th June
The
metal community is nursing some pretty severe hangovers
following last night’s Golden Gods ceremony at the
IndigO2. Although drunkenness and excess abounded at Metal
Hammer’s awards bash not a drop of alcohol passed
the lips of your humble correspondent, who for the second
year in succession was handling the magazine’s backstage
acceptance interviews/liggers coverage. My copy was required
**as soon as humanly possible** this morning. So whilst
everyone else headed off to the after-show party (or indeed
the Crobar, where my good friend Malcolm Dome remained
till 4.30am), yours truly had to make do with a kebab
and the highlights of Italy vs Paraguay, Holland vs Denmark
and Japan vs Cameroon before setting the alarm clock.
Those
Golden Gods attendees that had to endure my stooopid questions
included Phil Demmel (whose group Machine Head won Best
Live Band for the second time), the Download fest’s
Andy Copping and guest presenter Joe Elliott, Aerosmith’s
Riff Lord Joe Perry, a couple of the Metal As Fuck chaps
from Evile (who admitted to being ardent readers of this
site!), Five Finger Death Punch,
Tony Iommi, Skindred’s Benji Webbe, Nick Holmes
from Paradise Lost, Scott Gorham and Ricky Warwick from
Thin Lizzy, Thomas Gabriel Fischer, Hellyeah!’s
Vinnie Paul, Pat Lundy from Rise To Remain (who scooped
Best New Band), Napalm Death frontman Barney Greenway,
Taking Dawn’s Chris Babbitt, Joel O’Keefe
from Airbourne, Sahil ‘The Demonstealer’ Makhija
and Husain Bandukwala from Demonic Resurrection and Jon
and Tracey Morter (the couple behind RATM’s recent
return to the charts). The night’s star turn was
Zakk Wylde, who reacted with great sardonic amusement
to being anointed the sixth annual Golden God, following
in the wake of Lemmy, Matt Heafy, Robb Flynn, Kerry King
and Iron Maiden. Speaking emotionally of closure and honouring
his late friend and band-mate, Iommi told me a little
about the news that he, Geezer Butler and Vinny Appice
are to play at the High Voltage festival, with Glenn Hughes
and Masterplan’s Jørn Lande on vocals. “It’s
what Ronnie would have wanted,” said Tony, who picked
up Album Of The Year for Heaven And Hell’s ‘The
Devil You Know’.
Ross
Halfin announced that he knew some people that were “after
my blood” for referring to Scumwall by the club’s
real name of… er… Scumwall. I was extremely
scared (NOT!), though I did congratulate Hammer’s
knuckledragging online editor Terry Bezer at being back
in the big time again. The Lions do Palace again next
season, after all. I shared a little more footie banter
with Joe Elliott, who expressed relief that CPFC didn’t
go bust after all as doing so would have let Sheffield
Wednesday out of jail, reinstating them in the Championship
after all.
With
plenty of backslapping and publicity-seeking going on,
I loved the fact that Immortal were **turning down** interviews
in the media area. When I asked Abbath for a quote on
being voted Best Underground Band he snapped back: “What
it is you want? Why?!” Upon discovering I represented
the Hammer he grunted two sentences. But as Abbath and
Demonax ventured out into the paparazzi area I could hear
the former repeating his bark: “What it is you want?”,
usually followed by: “No. Sorry.”
The
highlight of my night was grabbing a few words with Sir
Christopher Lee, who Iommi had presented with the Spirit
Of Hammer award. Lee is 88 years old and, unsurprisingly,
has become rather frail but still has the ability to send
chills down the spine. When I asked him about his attraction
to heavy metal, those famous eyes locked with mine for
a few moments as he announced: “It’s all about
the power,” emphasizing the final two words with
full, fruity thespian fervour. When I recoiled slightly,
Lee reiterated: “That’s what makes this style
of music such a force – the power!” A truly
brilliant moment that’ll stay with me forever.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Monday
14th June
I’ll
draw a veil over Robert Green’s heinous gaffe in
England’s Saturday night game against the US –
I’m still speechless. Upon the final whistle I grabbed
a consolation bottle of wine from the fridge and headed
across London to meet Merv Goldsworthy of FM, who had
not only sorted a pass for yesterday’s appearance
at the Download Festival but booked a pre-show night in
the group’s hotel and offered a lift both ways.
What a result!
Though
I’ve attended just about all of the Monsters Of
Rock/Download shows, it’s mostly been in a working
capacity. I’ve often promised myself that one year
I would decline all invitations to review, and just enjoy
the day. Better late than never, in 2010 I managed exactly
that feat. Arriving on site nice ‘n’ early
with the group, I got to stand on Castle Donington’s
Main Stage as FM’s gear was loaded on, soaking up
the excitement as show-time loomed. Dommin, a US gothic-rock
band whose album I had praised in Metal Hammer were on
first. They sounded like a cross between Type O Negative
and The Doors, throwing in a cover of Cutting Crew’s
classic ‘(I Just) Died In Your Arms Tonight’
mid-set. I thought they were great.
FM
did themselves proud. Allotted just a half-hour and aware
of the need to focus on their meatiest tunes (thus no
‘Frozen Heart’… Boo! Hiss!) they kicked
off with ‘Wild Side’ from the new album, then
‘That Girl’, ‘Don’t Stop’,
‘Bad Luck’, ‘Burning My Heart Down’
and their rocked-up remake of ‘Heard It Through
The Grapevine’. Considering that many of the punters
had no clue who they were (as last-minute additions to
the bill, in place of Ratt), the reaction grew and grew
and by the end the lads were warmly applauded from the
stage.
With
no set timetable to follow and an artist’s AAA pass,
I could go wherever I wanted. I said ‘hi’
to Steven Wilson and Ginger as they walked past. Saxon
proceeded to play the whole of their ‘Wheels Of
Steel’ album for the first time. Biff was in great
form. “On Friday I was in the crowd with my kids
watching AC/DC standing just over there,” he told
us. “I lost a quid. If anyone finds it, can I have
it back please?” During Saxon’s set I broke
away to visit the fourth stage to check out a few numbers
from the Virginmarys,
a UK band that Classic Rock tipped for future greatness
at the year’s start. I had expected them to be a
little bit indie-schmindie but they turned out to be a
mighty rock beast. Must see them headline soon.
Following
a beer from the FM dressing room it was time for Cinderella’s
first Donington spot since 1987. Tom Keifer has had well
publicised vocal problems but sang respectably enough
as the band ran through ‘Somebody Save Me’,
‘Push Push’, ‘Night Songs’, ‘Coming
Home’, ‘Shelter Me’, ‘Don’t
Know What You’ve Got (Till It’s Gone)’,
‘Nobody’s Fool’, ‘Gypsy Road’
to end with a rousing ‘Shake Me’.
I
didn’t watch all of Slash’s set but with Myles
Kennedy from Alter Bridge on vocals and Lemmy stepping
up to sing ‘Dr Alibi’, from the ex-Gn’R
guitarist’s excellent solo album, the crowd went
absolutely bonkers. Then, just as Billy Idol took the
stage, as had been threatening for most of the afternoon,
the heavens opened. We decided to make a run for it. After
Merv dropped me off on London’s outskirts, I was
back home in Catford for 9pm. The early departure was
a good call as I’ve since learned that the site
became a complete and utter mudbath. A great day out by
the standards of just about any sane-minded individual.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Saturday
12th June
No
work today. Absolutely not! I’m enjoying a leisurely
drink before England’s opening World Cup fixture
against the United States. It’s my first taste of
cider for a couple of months, actually, and it’s
bloody lovely. Cars are adorned with little union jacks
and lots of replica shirts are being worn in the sunshine;
Catford is abuzz with anticipation. I’d like to
slap Julie Burchill in the face for her article in yesterday’s
Daily Mail, titled: ‘Sorry, but I can’t wait
for England to get knocked out of the World Cup’.
Aside from her comments about the morals of the players,
which are pretty hard to defend, I fail to see what is
so wrong with uniting the nation for a few weeks of baseless
yet enjoyably fervent optimism, something Burke-hill terms
“the wrong kind of patriotism”… what
a miserly fucking bitch.
Anyway,
I digress. Thanks to a top secret weblink supplied by
Glenn Hughes, I am listening to the hotly awaited album
from Black Country Communion, the ‘supergroup’
featuring Hughes, Joe Bonamassa, Jason Bonham and Derek
Sherinian, as I type. I won’t say too much as it’s
not released till late September, but… fucking hell…
it has well and truly blown me away. A classier slab of
retro-rock you will not hear in 2010.
Tomorrow
I shall be at Donington Park for a few hours, watching
one of my favourite bands – the mighty FM –
at the Download Festival. With the possible exceptions
of supporting Bon Jovi on the ‘Slippery When Wet’
tour and reuniting at the Firefest in 2007, it could be
argued that these 30 minutes on the Main Stage represent
the biggest, most vital opportunity of their 26-year history.
If they want to push on from here, capitalising upon the
impetus of comeback disc ‘Metropolis’, it’s
nothing less than crucial. So… no pressure then,
chaps. Hahaha! Break a leg…
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Friday
11th June
I awoke at 4am unable to expunge thoughts of the start
of the World Cup and Sunday’s trip to the Download
Festival (yes, I **shall** be there to see FM after all!).
Last night I had done a lengthy interview with Nicolas
Chapel, leader of the French band Demians.
It was good to converse with the quietly-spoken Nicolas
once more, having been present at the Steven Wilson-approved
group’s debut live appearance in Paris in April
2008. Chapel is one of the deep thinkers of the current
rock scene and the new Demians album, ‘Mute’,
is a dark and inspirational piece of work.
Yesterday’s mail haul included rough CDrs of ‘The
Gathering’, Magnum’s lavish five-disc boxed
set. I spent much of my alleged Christmas ‘break’
penning a 10,000-word history of the band for its luxurious
60-page booklet, which was designed by current bassist
Al Barrow. Can’t wait to get my hands on a finished
copy on August 9 or thereabouts.
And
talking of sleeve notes,
it was good to get positive feedback for recent mini-essays
on Tokyo Blade and Little Angels. The latter’s Toby
Jepson thanked me for the “careful approach”
of its research, which involved poring over old programmes
from the Marquee Club and referring to interviews from
Kerrang!, Metal Hammer and Metal Forces. I always try
to provide reviews cuttings for the work I do, which adds
to the detail factor. Andy Boulton was even more effusive,
claiming that my liners for the re-issue of his band’s
debut album “were the first to nail the essence
of what Tokyo Blade are all about.” What a terrific
compliment! As an aside for any TB fans out there, the
band are preparing a new album with producer Chris Tsangarides
release next year.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Thursday
10th June
I’m
happy to day that the CPFC 2010 takeover seems to be proceeding
nicely, with a creditor’s meeting on June 25 among
the last hurdles in exiting administration. A certificate
(known as a CVA) remains necessary to prevent a points
deficit, which must still be voted on. But at least the
new owners look set to honour pre-paid season tickets
– phew! All I pray is that the shock of coming so
perilously close to going out of business might re-motivate
the interest of a few ‘armchair’ Eagles.
Having
received a last minute ‘Cinders, you shall go to
the ball’-type call from the band’s publicist
Gillian Porter, who’d located an extra pair of tickets,
last night was spent at the Hammersmith Apollo watching
Crowded House. The New Zealand-based pop-rockers were
playing the second of three shows. The closest I’d
ever come to seeing them onstage before was an open-air
gig by the Finn Brothers at Regents Park in the summer
of 2004. They were as good as I’d hoped. Ad-libbing
songs based on comments from the front rows and indulging
in all manner of silliness, Neil Finn is a captivating,
mischievous frontman and at times they really rocked out,
notably during a hugely extended ‘Private Universe’.
Dipping in and out of a brand new album called ‘Intriguer’
that I have yet to hear, the show’s first half was
enjoyable enough but its final 45 minutes – kicking
off with a spine-tingling ‘Four Seasons In One Day’
and including a rendition of Bowie’s ‘Moonage
Daydream’ co-performed with the night’s support
act Connan Mockasin on wailing lead geetar – were
plain stratospheric. These are the songs that the band
treated us to (and I mean that, **seriously**): ‘Recurring
Dream’, ‘Saturday Sun’, ‘Either
Side Of The World’, ‘Fall At Your Feet’,
‘Don’t Stop Now’, ‘Private Universe’,
‘Inside Out’, ‘Love This Life’,
‘My Life Is A House’, ‘Whispers And
Moans’, ‘Isolation’, ‘Archer’s
Arrows’, ‘Pour Le Monde’, ‘Four
Seasons In One Day’, ‘Don’t Dream It’s
Over’, ‘Distant Sun’ and ‘Something
So Strong’, plus encores of ‘Fingers Of Love’,
‘Weather With You’, ‘Twice if You’re
Lucky’, ‘Moonage Daydream’, ‘World
Where You Live’ and ‘Better Be Home Soon’.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Wednesday
9th June
Today’s
news that FM have been added to the bill of the Download
Festival, in place of Ratt, caused three very different
emotions. First and foremost, pride. I’m extremely
happy for the band. Given the response to the new album
‘Metropolis’ it’s a break they richly
deserve. Secondly, frustration. Being a World Cup year,
I’d long since made the decision to give the 2010
event a miss. With the band due onstage – the Main
Stage, FFS! – just before midday and no accommodation
nor travel booked, it’s now too late (and indeed
costly) to amend those plans, more’s the pity. And
thirdly? Anger bordering on contempt. I simply cannot
believe Ratt have pissed their UK fans off **yet** again.
Okay, Stephen Pearcy may well require “urgent hernia
surgery”, but this is (I think) the third time the
band has messed everyone around with their itinerary.
Has the story of the boy who cried wolf not reached as
far as Los Angeles?
Anyway,
rant over. It’s always nice to conduct an interview
with a human being, as opposed to a walking press release.
I’d never spoken to anyone from the Canuck band
Triumph before, but last night’s phone chat with
bassist Mike Levine was tremendous fun. As we discussed
the arduous three-year task of compiling Triumph’s
excellent new CD/DV package ‘Greatest Hits Remixed’,
Levine laughingly revealed that Triumph’s motto
is: “Why do today what you can do tomorrow?”
I found his honesty very refreshing. We discussed playing
with Motorhead and Ozzy at the Heavy Metal Holocaust in
Port Vale back in 1981, the reasons for Triumph’s
topsy-turvy reunion at Sweden Rock in 2008 and the possibility
of seeing the group in the UK again. When asked about
the likelihood of making a studio record, Mike was pragmatic
enough to respond: “Does anyone **really** need
to hear new music from Triumph? Nobody seems to buy new
product from older bands. If you go out on tour, it’s
the old stuff that people come to listen to – the
music they grew up with. Besides which, most bands break
up in the studio [laughs]. With the three of us friends
again after 20 years of not talking, that’s something
I’d rather not gamble on.” Nice fella…
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tuesday
8th June
As
a long-time disciple of the Canadian band’s music,
the success of ‘You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet’
having caused me to pick up the back catalogue, I always
found myself wishing I’d seen b-b-b-b-Bachman-Turner
Overdrive onstage. The newly forged partnership of guitarist/vocalist
Randy Bachman bassist/growler CF Turner is, of course,
the next best thing and last night I took my place among
an unexpectedly threadbare crowd – the venue was
about half full – at the Garage as the duo played
together in London for the first time since 1976 (or so
Bachman ruminated from the stage). The guys are no longer
spring chickens; Randy, who first found fame with The
Guess Who, is 66, likewise Fred. But they both have plenty
to give. As demonstrated on the wide-tread ‘Four
Wheel Drive’, Turner’s pipes are especially
impressive. It’s no wonder a recent online reviewer
called his voice “a gravel truck and a cement mixer
rolled into one”. They were swelled by four extra
musicians, one of whom switched from second guitar to
‘rhythm bass’, playing additional meaty chords
to back up Turner’s picking, and a drummer that
just couldn’t leave his cowbell alone – brilliant!
An
excellent 85-minute set cherry-picked the B-TO years,
also doffing its cap to The Guess Who (viz ‘American
Woman’) and previewing two absolutely marvellous
new compositions, ‘Moonlight Rider’ and ‘Slave
To The Rhythm’, from a studio album that drops in
September. My only real quibble was the omission of two
personal favourites, ‘Gimme Your Money Please’
and ‘Shotgun Rider’. If you are at High Voltage
next month, don’t miss them. In the meantime, check
out the set-list: ‘Let It Ride’, ‘Rock
Is My Life’, ‘Hold Back The Water’,
‘Hey You’, ‘Moonlight Rider’,
‘Looking Out For #1’, ‘Not Fragile’,
Medley: ‘Stayed Awake All Night’/‘American
Woman’, ‘Four Wheel Drive’, ‘Slave
To The Rhythm’, ‘Blue Collar’, ‘Sledgehammer’,
‘Rollin’ Along’ and ‘Taking Care
Of Business’, plus ‘Roll On Down The Highway’
and ‘You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet’.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sunday
6th June
Walking
with a limp having twisted an ankle during a game of cricket
with my sons, I’m home from the Orpington Record
Fair. The bus journey was occupied by ‘Redemption’,
the new CD from Little Caesar on Grind That Axe/Rock Candy
(thanks for sending it, Derek!). I returned to Catford
clutching a diverse selection of goodies; an album by
blackthrashers Kaanos, the tenth anniversary anthology
from Celtic rockers Tempest, Mud’s 1978 disc ‘Rock
On’, the best of Milwaukee death metallers Morta
Skuld, a live album from Amen and… er, an album
apiece from Joni Mitchell (‘Clouds’) and Janis
Ian (‘Stars’). My musical taste grows ever
more unusual as the years fly by!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Saturday 5th June
Here’s
something that I thought may never come to pass. Steven
Wilson has told Chordstruck
Magazine that work is underway – though at a
very embryonic stage – on his much-anticipated collaboration
with Opeth’s Mikael Åkerfeldt and Mike Portnoy
from Dream Theater. “I started writing with Mikael
last month, finally,” confides Wilson. “We
wrote about 15 minutes of music in my studio near London
and we’re very excited about it.” This long-rumoured
liaison of three of my favourite artists is something
to set the mouth watering, though Steven says not to expect
“some kind of death-metal-progressive rock”.
“It’s not like that,” he stresses. “If
you put the two of us together, the last thing we’ll
do is something similar to what people already know. It's
very arty, very ambitious; it's going to be epic –
very dark, very twisted, very experimental. It’s
still rock music, but we’re trying to do something
really, really special and really different with this.”
Fascinating…
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Friday
4th June
Slayer’s
gigs will always be towards the top of my ‘to see’
list. So naturally I was at the Forum for last night’s
second of two London appearances. It was an odd experience:
a little slice of metal history, with an episode of Casualty
thrown in. After The Haunted’s magnificently noisy
‘special guest’ spot, Slayer kept the crowd
waiting for more than half an hour, filling the stage
with dry ice over and over again, ramping up the atmosphere.
My friend Mark Kentfield, who’d attended on the
first night, had reported back that the moshpit was especially
brutal. I can only guess that the response to Slayer’s
second show, regarded by those that saw both as immensely
superior and slightly longer, was fiercer still. The band
were just four songs in when ‘Disciple’ came
to an abrupt halt, bassist Tom Araya announcing: “Somebody’s
hurt real bad, they don’t wanna move him ‘cos
something might happen. So we’re gonna wait for
an ambulance and they’ll stretcher him out…
please be patient for ten minutes or so.” Tom’s
estimate of ten minutes was to prove conservative; half
an hour afterwards the show continued. I later learned
the poor sod concerned had dislocated his knee cap, leaving
the bone sticking out sideways – ugggh!
Amazingly,
Slayer and audience picked things up like nothing had
happened and our lack of complaint was rewarded as the
group’s 1990 album, ‘Seasons In The Abyss’,
was performed from start to finish for the first time
ever. All I can say is that I’m glad I attended
the second night! Here’s the song-list: ‘World
Painted Blood’, ‘Jihad’, ‘Hate
Worldwide’, ‘Disciple (Edit)’, ‘Disciple
(Reprise)’, ‘Beauty Through Order’,
‘War Ensemble’, ‘Blood Red’, ‘Spirit
In Black’, ‘Expendable Youth’, ‘Dead
Skin Mask’, ‘Hallowed Point’, ‘Skeletons
Of Society’, ‘Temptation’, ‘Born
Of Fire’ and ‘Seasons In The Abyss’,
with encores of ‘Mandatory Suicide’, ‘Raining
Blood’, ‘Aggressive Perfector’, ‘South
Of Heaven’ and ‘Angel Of Death’.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Thursday
3rd June
“Who’s that up ahead?” I wondered
whilst striding along Shepherd’s Bush Green towards
the Empire. The familiar figure was carrying a guitar
case. Oh yes, I thought so… it’s Mr Paul Raymond.
UFO’s rhythm guitarist/keyboard player was among
several guests at yesterday’s 30th anniversary appearance
from Michael Schenker Group, I’m happy to say.
Unfortunately, I was less than impressed by opening act
Heaven’s Basement, a band I’ve stuck my neck
out to support till now. I’d wondered how the fellas
might survive without their departed singer Richie Hevanz…
the answer was ‘disappointingly’. The group
tell me they have a new, full-time replacement lined up
and ready to announce. But frankly I struggle to comprehend
why they are playing such prestigious gigs with a half-arsed
stand-in? It doesn’t do their reputation any good.
My last sighting of Schenker was a pitiful, pissed-up
attempt to support the Scorps at Hammersmith in the summer
of ’07. Thankfully, Michael has got his act in gear
once more. A reunion with Gary Barden was something the
fans – and yours truly – wanted, and indeed
needed, to see. So it’s with genuine regret that
I state that Barden was last night’s weak link.
Back in the day, Gary’s stage presence pulled him
through. His depreciating voice has now become such a
handicap, that charm no longer keeps him afloat. The set-list
was well chosen and it was reassuring to see Schenker
back in the land of the living, but despite the cameos
– Neil Murray joined in for ‘Night To Remember’
(one of three cuts aired from the so-so comeback disc
‘In The Midst Of Beauty’) and ‘Lights
Out’ saw ex-Scorpions tub-thumper Herman ‘Ze
German’ Rarebell temporarily occupy Chris Slade’s
drum stool, while to the audience’s great joy Mr
Raymond, an alarmingly vertical Pete Way and ex-Rainbow
frontman Doogie White helped out with ‘Doctor Doctor’
– but I felt the show was just a little bit too
perfunctory. Here’s what was played: ‘Armed
And Ready’, ‘Cry For The Nations’, ‘Let
Sleeping Dogs Lie’, ‘Ready To Rock’,
‘I Want You’, ‘Night To Remember’,
‘Into The Arena’, ‘Lost Horizons’,
‘Rock My Nights Away’, ‘On And On’,
‘Lights Out’ and ‘Attack Of The Mad
Axeman’, plus ‘Ride On My Way’, ‘Doctor
Doctor’ and ‘Rock Bottom’. There’s
some pretty good YouTube footage here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsAhgPbTJ3I.
P.S. Speaking of which, the YouTube
and Playlist sections have
been updated.
_
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tuesday
1st June
With the club mere hours from extinction, I wonder
how many Palace fans slept soundly last nite? I know I
didn’t. I up with met the others intending to demonstrate
at the Lloyds Bank HQ at 11am. Overheard Raj, one of the
CPFC Fans’ Trust bods telling someone that the MP
for Croydon was going to take up the Eagles’ predicament
with the PM, “right to the top”, as Lloyds
is government-owned. Prudently, another fella from the
Trust asked us not to sing the usual ditties lambasting
Ron Noades or A**n Mu***ry, with the explanation: “That
would look bad for the cameras, this is all about letting
Lloyds know they cannot kill our club.”
There
were about two or three hundred protesters at the start,
and although it peed with rain as we strode from the station
towards the City, everybody sang with gusto: “Save
our club, save our, club”. It sounded brilliant.
The noise reached a crescendo as we reached the Lloyds
building. Inquisitive faces pushed against windows all
around the square. I giggled that somebody from an office
recognised yours truly amidst the mob and came down to
donate a CD for possible review. Brilliant.
The
Palace fans did themselves proud, ignoring the downpour
to keep up the chanting and throwing red and blue balloons
into the air. “Bankers give us a song/Bankers, bankers
give us a song,” we demanded. The bankers just got
on with whatever they were doing. An hour became two hours.
Someone produced a football and to a rousing, continuous
chant of “Selhurst Park’s red and blue army”
a game of head tennis keepie-uppie ensued. From time to
time a shot would ‘mysteriously’ crash into
the side of the building, letting its inhabitants know
that we hadn’t gone away. Things were kept peaceful,
though. Throughout the day fans came and left, some locally
employed ones using the lunch hour to drop by, others
arriving late or departing to go elsewhere. It was reported
that 4,000 had gathered outside the building which is
an exaggeration, though that many may have turned up over
the course of the day.
Meanwhile,
the silence coming from the building was deafening. At
around 2.20pm, 40 minutes away from the deadline, the
Chinese whispers began to circulate. A disbelieving hush
descended as a guy several feet away received a text saying
that Sky had reported the club was being wound up. Then
a cautious cheer went up as consortium spokesman David
Jensen was quoted as being “optimistic” re:
the negotiations. At 2.50, my friend Neil Pudney texted
to say the CPFC bulletin board had crashed, could I keep
him up to speed with the news? What fuggin’ news?!?
There wasn’t any! Then at 2.53, the skies opened
again… an omen?!
Finally,
long after the deadline had elapsed, a representative
of Sky TV came out of the building to reveal that a deal
between Lloyds Bank and CPFC 2010 had been agreed **in
principle**. “Let’s go fucking mental, let’s
go fucking mental!” roared the red ‘n’
blue faithful, some with tears in the eyes. The Sky Sports
News fella asked whether I’d do an interview (it
can be viewed at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FjZrdfWigc
- I’m on after some fella called Maxi Jazz) –
had I known that was likely to happen I’d have had
a bleedin’ shave! The cops, who had kept an eye
on the situation with surprising good humour, began to
clear the area. “Chaps,” said one in an extremely
persuasive voice, “can we encourage you to go to
Selhurst Park now you’ve got it back?” Music
to my ears, and no mistake.
With
the fans still singing as if Palace had beaten Br***ton
10-0, the police escorted us back to London Bridge, through
the midst of startled, briefcase-carrying City gents and
commuters trying to make their way home. It such a relief,
hard to encapsulate in words. After getting home, buying
a **big** bottle of vodka and going online, the mood at
the CPFC bulletin board felt absolutely amazing. “I
love this crazy club,” posted one reveller. “Here’s
to the next 105 years of winning nothing, but still loving
every minute of it.”
Amen.
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