Friday 30th September
Last night I attended a terrific gig that in years to come
will surely be spoken of in hushed tones. Dragonforce ended a
three-show residency at the tiny Barfly and rocked the motherfuggin'
place to its very foundations. Opening act Mendeed, a young hardcore-tinged
metal band, were so good that I'm prepared to overlook their Scottish
origins and offer them immediate 'honorary Englishmen' status.
But Dragonforce, Jesus... Dragonforce. Those songs, the sextet's
boundless, beer-fuelled energy... the audience and their plastic
swords, maces and battleaxes - all squeezed into a venue the size
of a large shoebox. Excuse me as I wipe away a tear.
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Thursday
29th September
It's always sad when one of your fave bands calls it
a day. Truth told, I'd no idea that 3 Colours Red had decided
to split till receiving an emailed invite from guitarist Chris
McCormack to their final London show. Given my friendship with
Chris (I've known him since his Forgodsake days), I've followed
3CR from their earliest days. I caught their debut show, opening
for someone I now forget at the Garage in September 1995, looked
on proudly as they opened for the Sex Pistols at Finsbury Park,
and again at the Electric Ballroom in February 1999 when they
were joined onstage by Steve Jones and Glen Matlock on 'Anarchy
In The UK.
So last night was a bittersweet experience. It was pleasing to
see Chris' brother, ex-Wildhearts bassist Danny McCormack, looking
fit, healthy and motivated again after his much-publicised chemical
problems, and playing a kick-ass support slot with the reunited
The Yo-Yo's. 3 Colours Red have always been a silly bunch - guitarist
Pete Vuckovic had shaved off his beard and put it up for sale
at the merch stall; last thing I knew some silly sod had offered
£36.24 for it. No accounting for taste. They played a concise
hour of their best songs, sending a packed Islington Academy absolutely
bonkers. Their biggest hit, Beautiful Day, was dedicated to Chef
from South Park for keeping them out of the Top Ten in 1999, but
the vibe was one of cheerful resignation. I, for one, will miss
3CR a lot.
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Wednesday 28th September
It's
been so long since Palace played Sheffield Wednesday, I'd forgotten
how vocal their fans can be. They're absolute loonies, but respect
is due for the size of a midweek turnout, and the volume generated
on behalf of a relegation-bound team. Last night's game finished
2-0 to the Eagles, the result lifting us into the Top 10 of the
table. It's a start, at least.
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Tuesday 27th September
Mustn't type too loudly. Yes, I'm hungover again. Yesterday
evening I went up to Sanctuary Records to discuss 'Reflections',
a new two-CD anthology on Brummie hard rockers Shy that I've had
a hand in assembling. After an amusing interview for the sleeve
notes, vocalist Tony Mills, bassist Roy Davis and new keyboard
player Joe Basketts joined the Sanctuary mob in the local boozer,
several dry white wines resulting in my almighty headache. It
was good to see the fellas again; Mr Mills is a still bit of a
dry old stick but exceedingly good company. Took home a load of
excellent releases, including a finished version of the Uriah
Heep six-disc set 'Chapter And Verse'. It looks bloody excellent
- well worth all the hard work in putting it together. Was chuffed
to plug a gap by picking up the only Black Sabbath album I don't
own on CD, the immortal 'Heaven And Hell', plus three interesting-looking
re-issues from John Entwistle. Also pocketed Venom's four-CD box
'MMV', with a great sleeve essay from my old boozing buddy Malcolm
Dome.
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Monday
26th September
What
a 'kin excellent show I saw last night. For quite some time Nightwish
have been one of my favourite bands, but their headlining performance
at a sold-out Hammersmith Apollo took them to new levels of genius.
The sound was amazing, the band played (and Tarja sang!) out of
their skins, augmented an array of lasers, pyrotechnics and even
two confetti cannons. They're planning to spend all of next year
writing and recording a follow-up to the million-selling 'Once',
but this was a show nobody will forget in a hurry.
My old mates Paradise Lost delivered an impressive opening spot,
and thank God vocalist Nick Holmes hasn't cheered up any. "Good
to see the place has filled up," he deadpanned, "just
as we're finishing." I must find some time to post the story
of my trip to Jerusalem with them on the 'Shades Of God' tour.
One of my all-time favourite assignments.
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Sunday
25th September
Still fuming over Palace's feeble
display against Preston yesterday. If we can't beat a team that
only has nine men for the last 25 minutes, there's no way on this
earth that we're good enough to be promoted - with or without
the injured Andy Johnson. To top it all, I missed Clinton Morrison's
injury time leveller in a bid to beat the queues for a ticket
for the Crewe game. Bah. Sort it out, Dowie. You're supposed to
be a deity.
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Saturday
24th September
What better way to end a gruelling
week than a Budgie gig? Burke Shelley and chums were in deafeningly
fine form at the Underworld last night. 'Napoleon Bona-Part One'
and 'Part Two'... what a truly fabulous pair of songs. In fact,
I'm off to play 1975's 'Bandolier' album right now.
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Thursday
22nd September
Yesterday involved a trip to the
Borderline, one of my fave London venues, for the return of Leaf
Hound a long-lost and quite wonderful doom-tinged hard rock band
back from the dead after splitting up in 1971. The ever-improving
Pig Iron warmed up the crowd nicely, before Pete French (who later
fronted Atomic Rooster) and his revised line-up let rip with some
enjoyable brand new material, intermingled with vintage gems like
'Freelance Friend', 'Stray' and a version of 'Growers Of Mushroom'
that tempted Cathedral's Lee Dorrian to the front for a freak-out.
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Wednesday 21st September
It
was back to Selhurst Park last night for Palace's slender victory
over Coventry in the second round of the Coca Cola Cup. A somewhat
dire game was turned by a stunning solo goal from substitute Marco
Reich, a new arrival who's played for FC Cologne, Werder Bremen
and, er, Derby County. With Andy Johnson injured and Clinton Morrison
rested, it was a young, makeshift side. But I wonder how much
longer Iain Dowie can possibly keep faith with hapless (and goalless)
striker Wayne Andrews. Let's face it, Oliver Reed was not a teetotaller,
Brian Johnson doesn't speak the Queen's English, Dawn French is
not a bikini model, I am not a brain surgeon... Wayne Andrews
is not a professional footballer. End of.
On a far more poigant note, former Damageplan/Pantera drummer
Vinnie Paul has given a moving interview to Guitar Player magazine.
It contains some fascinating comments regarding the much-mooted
Pantera reunion ("if you were married to somebody for 15
or 16 years and they treated you the way we got treated, you don't
go back to them"), and the senseless shooting of his brother
Dimebag Darrell ("it's ruined my life and taken away so much
joy and happiness from so many people. I guess what I'm trying
to find is an answer for why this happened. There has to be an
answer, and I hope it comes out someday"). Tellingly, Vinnie
also adds: "Dime will live on forever, though, just like
Jimi Hendrix and Randy Rhoads." Amen to that.
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Monday 19th September
Received an excellent album in today's post. Coheed And Cambria
are an excellent nu-prog outfit from America, and the unfeasibly
titled 'Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV: Volume 1. From Fear
Through The Eyes Of Madness' may well turn out to be among the
best CDs of 2005. A hotch-potch of Rush, Pink Floyd, King Crimson
and Black Sabbath, it even has a song that sounds a little like
the mighty It Bites. So good are the songs, it's almost possible
to forgive them for being influenced by The Police (ugggh).
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Sunday
18th September
Palace
lost to Cardiff City yesterday, though from the radio commentary
our second half performance should have brought at least a draw.
It's terrifying to think that we've not won an away game since
Birmingham City - last October.
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Wednesday 14th September
What
an amazing quote from Freddie Flintoff in the Evening Standard.
In a 'refreshed' state after a 17-hour bender, England's hero
was overheard stating: "The most exciting thing about winning
the Ashes is that I'll be awarded the freedom of Preston, my home
town. I can drive a flock of sheep through the town centre, drink
for free in 64 pubs and get a lift home with the police when I'm
inebriated. What more could you want?"
With the victory cheers of hundreds of thousands of cricket fans
still ringing in my ears, it was away from Trafalgar Square and
off to Palace's away game against Reading; the latest showdown
with former manager/living deity Steve Coppell. Stevie's teams
always play with passion, and with Andrew Johnson limping off
just before half time after scoring an amazing equaliser, yet
another last minute leakage condemned us to defeat. With a twice
taken (and missed) penalty from the home side, it was certainly
an exciting game, but I'm praying the injury to our shaven-headed
talisman isn't serious. We looked pretty ropey without him.
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Tuesday 13th September
This
morning I'm proud to be an Englishman. Mrs L and I were among
the lucky 35,000-odd ticket
holders to witness yesterday's climax of the Ashes Test Match
series. What drama. Singing 'Jerusalem' was a stirring experience.
It was great to remind Glenn McGrath of his prediction that the
convicts would win the series 5-0 when he fielded in front of
us at the boundary, but he took the abuse in good spirit. Despite
a few scary moments when I feared it might go pear-shaped (dropped
catches, toppling wickets, Bell's latest embarrassing innings),
a heroic debut Test century from Kevin Pietersen secured a tense,
hard-fought draw that saw the fabled Little Urn returning home.
As I type this, I'm watching the team's victory parade. Pieterson
has just boarded the open-top bus armed with a jug of evil-looking
booze. A bleary-eyed Flintoff, who by all accounts has been up
all night, still looks so paralytic that his breath alone would
probably leave anyone unable to walk a straight line. Attaboys.
P.S. Dame Edna, Rolf Harris, Joe Mangle, Nicole Kidman, Angry
Anderson, Robyn Doreian, John Farnham, Germaine Greer, Clive James,
Harold Bishop... your lads took one hell of a beating!
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Sunday
11th September
Congrats
to UFO's Pete Way for interrupting his latest Waysted tour to
tie the knot to the lovely Rashida at the end of last week. Frankly,
I'm amazed that he made it down the aisle at all given that Spike
of The Quireboys was acting as his best man. Now there's a combination
to strike mortal terror into barmen (and registrars) everywhere.
Anyway, well done Pete.
Yesterday saw a fine 2-0 win for Palace over ex-Eagle Peter Taylor
and his Hull City team. The game was fairly nondescript except
for the goals, my most vivid recollection being the Jumbotron
cutting away to show footage of torrential rain at The Oval. Obviously,
delay to the Test Match only served to enhance England's chances
of winning back the Ashes. Fittingly, it received the biggest
cheer of the day!
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Saturday 10th September
For
the second day in a row, I spent yesterday attempting to work
but glued to the telly/radio coverage of the Test Match. By the
end of play, the Aussies had their noses in front. Have been playing
Status Quo's 'Rain', 'The Rain Song' by Led Zeppelin and quite
a bit of Thunder in the hope that the good ol' English weather
will play a part in this nail-biting climax, especially as Mrs
L and I have tickets for the final day's play on Monday. (I knew
that Puddle Of Mudd album would come in useful someday - now where
did I put it?!).
Gov't Mule returned to London last night. Once again Allman Brothers
guitarist Warren Haynes and company provided some wonderful entertainment,
save for a short interval spending three solid hours on the Mean
Fiddler stage. It was great to hear them play 'Thorazine Shuffle',
which they overlooked on their debut visit. Their encore, a rearranged
version of 'All Along The Watchtower', was another quite magnificent
moment. However, coming back just five months after their UK debut
in April may have been premature. This crowd was smaller, and
although the set was a good 20 minutes longer, some of the extended
jamming became a little tiresome. That's just my own personal
opinion, but I'm sure I wasn't the only one capable of living
without the six-minute drum solo.
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Friday
9th September
Yesterday
saw the start of THE BIGGIE. The Fifth Test in the Ashes series:
England vs Australia, with the home side needing just (just?!)
a draw to secure a glorious triumph. Sadly, because the Aussies
already have the Ashes in their power, a tied game would be good
enough for the convicts. In typical count-your-chickens-before-you-shoot-yourself-in-the-foot
fashion, it's been leaked that England have booked Tragalgar Square
for a victory celebration. How dumb and presumptious. At the end
of the first day, it was pretty much neck and neck.
In the evening, I got the train up to the Mean Fiddler for a quite
stupendous show from Swedish metal-progressives Opeth. I'd seen
them six or seven times before, but this was the finest concert
they've played in the capital to date. Guitarist/frontman Mikael
Åkerfeldt was in charge of the sold-out crowd from the off,
ignoring the blast furnace conditions and charming the Fiddler
with some hilarious, self-mocking song intros as the newly expanded
five-piece bewitched as all with a quite jaw-dropping performance.
Following a pre-show interview, Åkerfeldt and I had a transpotter-like
discussion about our mutual love of vinyl. Seems that the bugger's
list is more extensive than my own. But then as we both agreed,
there are far more harmful things that we could be addicted to.
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Thursday
8th September
For
fear of lapsing into an apopleptic rage, I won't comment on England's
shameful World Cup qualifier defeat against Northern Ireland last
night. However, considering I missed out on three killer gigs
- Driver By Truckers at the Garage, Nile and Hate Eternal at Koko
and Skid Row at the Electric Ballroom - to sit at home and drink
myself stupid watching such an abhorrent spectacle, well... words
almost fail me. My only pleasure was watching Iain 'God' Dowie
as a BBC pundit, losing his cool to leap around the studio as
David Healy struck the winner.
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Monday 5th September
A great weekend concluded with last night's visit to the Astoria.
Within Temptation were the headliners, Cathedral supplying an
all too brief (27 minutes?!) opening set. Within Temptation didn't
exactly play a marathon show either, but Sharon den Adel's voice
is truly stellar, and their 75 minutes housed some wonderful songs.
Nice version of Kate Bush's 'Running Up That Hill', too. My biggest
concern was the cropped hair and wildly exaggerated shape-throwing
of the male members of the band. I'm aware that den Adel and guitarist
Robert Westerholt are a romantic item, but there were moments
when WT's presentation seemed... well, how can I put this?...
a bit on the gay side.
P.S. Can't wait to hear 'Aerial', Kate Bush's first new studio
album in 12 years, on November 7.
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Saturday
3rd September
Gosh...
ain't the human body an amazing creation? This morning I got home
from Iron Maiden's after-show party just as my two boys came down
for breakfast, and after checking the emails and a quick doze
in the chair I was ready to commence drinking again in preparation
for England's World Cup qualifier against Wales (later won in
unconvincing fashion by a solitary goal). The Maiden show was
akin to a religious experience. Having secured front balcony seats
(proceeds benefitting MS-stricken ex-drummer Clive Burr, I happily
shelled out my £60), gazing down onto the stage and at the
riotious crowd before them at times felt like being perched on
the rim of an erupting Krakatoa. In all my years of visiting Hammersmith
Odeon - my first gig there was Whitesnake in 1979 - I'd never
heard a crowd anywhere near as noisy. And I'm sure I wasn't alone
in being emotionally choked when Burr was wheeled out onto the
stage towards the show's end. I applaud his bravery, and Maiden's
loyalty. Wisely, there was no addressing of the Ozzfest debacle
from the stage, in fact when Bruce Dickinson accidentally incited
boos by mentioning the band's jaunt to America, he just as quickly
silenced them. And afterwards, all was harmonious at the post-show
soiree. Respect goes to guitarist Adrian Smith, the last Maiden-ite
left standing at the bar (well, perched precariously against it)
as the sun rose on a new day.
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Friday
2nd September
As
the music industry grows ever more respectable, lunchtime press receptions
appear to be dying out. F**k it, if you've just finished your contribution
to a new issue and want to blow off a little steam then a visit to the
Borderline to hear Hawkwind's new album, 'Take Me To Your Leader', and
the guzzling of some freebie white wine is just what the doctor ordered.
That's exactly what I did yesterday, and better still the band even
got up to perform a few numbers!
Heading home I dropped into Fopp Records at Leicester Square, a store
that often has a good selection of cheapo CDs. In my inebriated state
I picked up David Bowie's 'Reality' and 'Lifeblood' by the Manic Street
Preachers for £3 apiece. Bowie's album is listenable yet unexciting,
but with the latter I might as well have deposited three pound coins
straight down the drain. Can there be a more tired, dirge-like and desperately
middle-aged band anywhere in the country?
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Thursday 1st September
The British climate generates much amusement, but I'd rather
live here than anywhere else in the world. It's incredibly sad to switch
on the news and see people still being rescued from the roofs of their
houses in New Orleans - four days after the deluge caused by Hurricane
Katrina. And they're the lucky ones; with a possible deathcount of thousands
and no electricity or food, plus 20,000 sheltering in the city's Superdome
stadium, the situation is getting worse. Some say New Orleans will never
recover, though at the very least it'll take many months to restore
power and hygene. Having visisted this most charistmatic of cities twice
- with George Thorogood & The Destroyers in 1999 and in the company
of Ted Nugent two years later - I can only express my sympathy. Also
to House Of Lords keyboard player Gregg Giuffria, who only 12 months
or so after his studio was destroyed by fire saw his Biloxi Hard Rock
Casino flattened by the hurricane. And when one considers the 1,000
people crushed to death in yesterday's Baghdad religious stampede...
well, I'm lucky that my biggest concern is whether I'll finish my Magnum
sleeve notes on time.
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