The Bronze Medal

Change and Chicken

2008-02-07T13:26:00.000Z

So, over the last few weeks, in the haze of a rather unhealthy lifestyle, I feel as though certain changes have occurred in me that perhaps I was unaware of. What's more, they seem to have occurred for what I percieve to be the better. I've become more focused and finally seem to have found that spine that, on occassions in the past, I thought might have deserted me. This can only be a good thing, as it seems that finally I might have found that self-esteem that had perhaps deserted me for an elongated period. However, part of me feels as through all of this, I've been letting some people down and no longer fit into what they percieved me to be. This seems to leave me with a question: how do you manage to remain the person that you're pleased with whilst not letting other people down? Complex, answers on a postcard, please...

I suppose the reason for this questioning comes from the fact that not only do I think I've changed slightly, but that a lot of change seems to be occurring around me. This then leaves you with fear, fear that people close to you, and that you view as important, may no longer be there. How, then, do you let people really know what they mean to you? It's not a case of grand gestures, that's for sure, but the question of whether other people really know how much they mean to you still remains. For me, this was only accentuated over the last week with what, and yes I am probably being melodramatic, was a near death experience.

I accepted a challenge. One of those stupid things that blokes do as a percieved method of proving their masculine identity to each other. This challenge was to see whether each of us could eat a whole KFC Family Bucket. I (eventually) managed to complete such a challenge, but towards the end, all manner of nasty thoughts entered my mind. Firstly, there was the question of consumption. For someone who is disgusted by the excesses of consumption, and views excessive forms of consumption (in whatever manner) as vulgar, a certain amount of disgust with myself started to simmer down below. Following on from this mental complex over excessive consumption came a feeling of guilt of the physical effects of it. We live in a society and culture bound with fear about dying because of the food that we eat, and, for a while, I genuinely seemed to think that I might suffer something that would result in my erasure (slightly over-the-top perhaps, but it occurred nonetheless). So as I lay in bed after this vulgar display, the above thoughts about if I was to pass on were to happen, would those close to me know how much they rock? Perhaps, in the words of mid-90s band Gene, "It's time I told my friends I love them", then again, perhaps they already know that? Once again, it left me considering being postmodern. How can you ever be sure?

Oh, and just for note, in said challenge I came third. Seems that the predisposition to coming third remains.

The Bronze Medal's Five Songs of the Moment:

Elastica - Waking Up
Editors - Escape the Nest
Maximo Park - Girls Who Play Guitars
Geneva - If You Have to Go
The Long Blondes - Weekend Without Make-up

New New Year

2008-01-17T20:33:00.000Z

Good day one and all, and a very happy new year to you! Yes, I realise that it's a little late, but better late than never and all that. I could insert a few more cliches after that (I'm sure there are some to be had about being patient that would do nicely), but I'm not going to as it would probably be quite tedious.

In all honesty, the title of this post refers to nothing. Aside from the fact that I'm just trying to kill some time before I decide to watch a Who DVD. I haven't decided what to watch tonite. The past two nites I've very much been enjoying a selection from the recently-released 'Beneath the Surface' box set. I've always been a fan of the Sea Devils and Silurians, and there are memories of BBC2 repeats and trips to Kingsteignton Library bound up with those particular fan objects, so to have all three stories encased in a lovely cardboard sleeve together was a great start to the new year.

Ah yes, New Year. That all came and went in all honesty. I had the biggest non-Christmas ever, and that's obviously something I'm still quite annoyed about given that I seem to be happily moaning to anyone and everyone who will listen to me moan about it. I tell you what, I'll even use it as an excuse for not having blogged over the past few months. That seems to be my stock answer for anything these days, "Sorry, but I'm busy", unless you're suggesting a trip to the pub and then you'll probably get a positive reply. Anyways, as a result of this busyness, I never got to discuss my favourite singles of the past twelve months. So, here it is:

The Bronze Medal's Top Ten Singles of 2007:

10. Falling Down - Duran Duran

The best band of the 80s return with the help of Justin Timberland and produce a dark, brooding gem in the vein of 'Come Undone' and 'Ordinary World'. Great, catchy melody and a nice extended guitar solo at the end. Shame no-one gave two hoots about it.

9. Back to Black - Amy Winehouse

Amy Winehouse has had a troubled year, and the only thing to hope for is that in 2008 the press get off of her back and people remember why she came into the public eye in the first place. Listening to this atmospheric, jazzy tale of unrequited longing is a more than sufficient starting place.

8. Weapon of Choice - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

A band that a lot of people had given up return with an archetypal slab of brilliance. Like all good rock and roll tracks, it's built around a simple chord progression that unrelentlessly drives into you sitting room, drinks all you whiskey, and then throws up over your kids. 'I wouldn't waste my love on a nation', they sing throughout the chorus. Sound advice in this day and age.

7. The Way I Are - Timbaland

A man who seems hell bent on working with anyone in contemporary music, and producing some of the finest pop/R and B of the last decade or two at the same time. An infectuous, delay-ridden keyboard riff drives a simple tale of loving someone for who they are to make something that is equal parts edgy and endearing. It also contains the great line of "I ain't got a motorboat, but I could float your boat" for the added push of genius.

6. Books from Boxes - Maximo Park

Taken from the patchy (yet not disappointing) 'Our Earthly Pleasures' album, this track sees The Park abandon their usual 100 miles per hour, stream of consciousness approach to produce a heartfelt ballad that tugs. If you aren't moved by the way in which Paul Smith delivers the song's closing lyric, there's something wrong with you.

5. Our Velocity - Maximo Park

So if 'Books from Boxes' sees Maximo Park depart from their usual style, this could well be deemed as 'Apply Some Pressure Part II' since it features a similar driving-guitar riff and scatty lyrics. The summer festival season saw this recognised as the anthem it is, but as with most tracks by this band, there's a witty intellegence in the lyrics that few other bands get anywhere close to.

4. Pour Le Monde - Crowded House

So, The Greatest Band in the World Ever come back and show all the other pretenders to the throne of acoustic balladeering how to do it. A simple, piano-led strum-along, lifted from the sublime 'Time on Earth record, that you really wish would go on forever. I really can't put into words how beautiful this song is.

3. Smokers Outside the Hospital Doors - Editors

The only song this year to make me shed a tear when I hear it and not feeling particularly great. The starts small, then kicks in with a guitar part that sounds like it could tear right through your body. The lyrical theme of illness, recovery and change are poigantly delivered, and Tom Smith seems to have a voice that drives feeling into everything he sings. "We've all been changed from what we were, Our broken hearts left smashed on the floor". Enough said, really.

2. No Emotion - Idlewild

So, in typical fashion, Britian's most underrated band take the Franz Ferdinand guide to writing Indie songs, combine it with the good points of Nu Rave, and make an absolute stonker of a disco floor-filler that no-one really heard. The fact that it made number 32 in the chart on the back of no radio or MTV support just makes you wonder where it could have got to in a different environment.

1. Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne

A sublime piece of camp, punk-pop bitchiness. It's slightly reminicsent of 'Hey Mickey!' (another pop song that I love), but delivered in a fresh fashion that you really can't ignore, and blows the cobwebs away no matter when you hear it. Brilliant to jump around to after a couple of drinks, fun enough to put a smile on your face when unexpectedly appearing on your iPod. This encapsulates in four minutes everything that a great pop song should be.

Just one thing. Could someone please shoot The Hoosiers? Oh, and if you could get Mika as well I'd be very greatful.

No 'Bronze Medal'

2007-09-17T21:14:00.000+01:00

Greatest hits packages. They're always a curious thing to consider. On the one hand, they can be an ace opportunity to get all "the hits" from a band you've had a marginal interest in over the course of their career or they can be the chance to get into a band you've respected from the past but never risked buying one of their albums. On the other hand, if it's an act that you've been raving about since they released their first album, the point of buying such a package can be minimal. Usually it amounts to a couple of new tracks, lazily interlinked with "the hits" and maybe the odd fan-favourite/live recording thrown in for good measure. Fair play, in recent years the industry has recognised this by releasing the now-standard "special edition" version with more of the aforementioned fan-faves, rarities and live tracks as a bonus. However, the main point, so beautifully captured by David Cavicchi's discussion of Bruce Springstein fans, stands: do you spend fifteen quid on a collection of songs you already own, just arranged in a different order?

This, Dear Reader, is the dilemma I face a t present, since the mighty Idlewild are set to release their 'Best Of' next month. To purchase or not to purchase? Well, unfortunately that's a foregone conclusion! For completist reasons I pretty much have to get it. The choice of tracks is not that surprising, being "Remote Part" heavy as that's their most popular album. However, whilst it's nice to see them not go for the "just the singles" approach by including some slightly obscurer tracks the choice of some of these is questionable. 'Let Me Sleep (Next to the Mirror)' stands out the greatest due to it a) not being one of the best songs on "100 Broken Windows" and b) being included at the expense of the awesome 'Actually It's Darkness', but including 'Make Another World' is also curious. Not that the latter is a bad song either, just curious as to why it was included and 'Ghost in the Arcade' wasn't.

Obviously, there are omissions. Significant omissions being 'Captain' (should've been there for old times sake and it's artistic shoutyness) and 'Everyone Says You're So Fragile' (the song with officially the best use of a scream in the history of music). Personally, I'd have liked to have seen 'The Bonze Medal', 'Quiet Crown', 'I'm Happy to Be Here Tonight' and 'Tell Me Ten Words' included, as well as the stonking b-side 'Poor Thing'. However, that's again the problem of a favourite band releasing a retrospective, you're faves are always a little more idiosynchratic than what the everyman requires. However, the real plus for the fans will be the special edition release, with it's inclusion of all of the band's music videos as well as a full live DVD. That's value for money, there. Usually they'd be three seperate releases for another band. However, Idlewild have decided to do them all together, and I for one shall not be complaining.

So there we are, Dear Reader, 'Scottish Fiction: The Best of 1997-2007' is out on the 1st of October. A chance to listen to a collection of brilliant songs by one of the best undiscovered bands of the last ten years. However, if I were you I'd just buy all their albums. And a few of the singles too...

Getting Out the Childish Things

2007-08-14T10:59:00.001+01:00

Good day, Dear Reader. Well it's been a while, has it not? I think I make it about seven months in total. Now, seven months is a long stretch of time and many things can happen to someone over the stretch of that time-period. This, however, will not be a long recourse through those last few months. They are lost to the annuals of history, probably never to be retrieved by anyone other than if someone wants to right my autobiography, which will be a thoroughly disappointing read peppered with the occasional witty observation about Devon. Neither, sadly, will this post cover an in-depth overview of Season Three of Who. That particular job can be summed up in the following statement: "It was awesome aside from the last two episodes". In short, we started with hilariously cack space-rhinos, moved onto epic witches, the return of the Macra (!) and the moving death of the Face of Boe, the Daleks making me scream with excitement as they evolved and then sigh as the second episode was a let down, a poetic study of wanting to live forever, quite possibly the piece of drama Who has produced since 'Caves of Androzani', THE greatest episode of the series (and perhaps since it came back), a thrillingly exciting chase and re-introduction of an old face (minus the beard an annoying heh-heh-hehing), and then John Simm being let down by bad uses of music and not really knowing what to do with DT and Captain Jack. There we are, Season Three in a nutshell.

Anyways, the subject matter of this post is to discuss the great news that Character, the company responsible for producing those rather awesome plastic figures related to the series, are to start producing figures from the 'classic' series. I fell of my chair when I heard this. I can't believe it. So in short, here are my 5 nominations for figures that should be included in the range of 'classic' Who merchandise:

5. Ace.
Ahhh, lovely Sophie Aldred immoratlised forevermore in plastic. Yes, there is a slightly creepy subtext to that comment, it's not intentional.

4. The Emperor Dalek from 'Evil of the Daleks'.
It's a real shame that this story doesn't exist anymore as it's awesome, and the photos that exist of the Emperor Dalek make it look fantastic, just for the fact that it doesn't look that Dalekesque (is that a word? If not, I'm copyrighting it). Would fit in quite nicely with the new series as well.

3. Soldeed and a Nimon.
There could be kids playing in the street going "Lord Nimon! Lord Niiiiiiiimon! It is I! Soldeed!". Imagine that. I don't think I'd ever be able to stop laughing! I'd have to go up and congratulate said child for doing so! At which instance I'd probably get arrested by their mother on the accusation of being a Paedo.

2. Sharaz Jek.
Best written villain of the old series? Possibly, he's definately up there, apart from the fact that he wasn't evil! Morgus was the real villain of the piece, Jek was the man after revenge after being betrayed. Brilliant performance as well that deserves being immortalised in plastic, even if he does look like he might be dressed in a gimp costume nowadays. But think, the mask could come off revealing the disfgurement beneath. Now that would be cool...

1. Scaroth.
Oh come on! Like you didn't see that one coming! It would be the coolest thing ever. Again, he should come with a removable head that reveals the green cyclops beneath. Kids could get well acquainted with providing concise answers, noting that nobody could be as stupid as he seems, and taunting futile earthlings who believe they are the upmost authority on temporal theory. I'd buy one straight away! In fact, I'd buy three, and one for my niece, and... Oh, I dunno. But I'd find some other people to buy one for.

A Broken, Discarded Umbrella, Publicly Displayed in a Public Lavatory

2007-01-14T23:26:00.000Z

A slightly bizzare title for this blog post you may well think Dear Reader, and you'd be quite right. The above title refers to something strange I saw whilst walking back from the centre of Cardiff today. I'd just got past the swanky-looking sushi restaurant (still haven't visited that restaurant. Don't even know if I like sushi to be honest, but it looks quite interesting nevertheless) and soon after that there's one of those 'experimental' public toilets like they have in France where you pay money to get in, then get a set amount of time before the door locks and the place 'cleans itself'. Now going back a few years I have a funny story from Uni about a friend getting stuck in one of these contraptions after a trip to the Welsh Club (hopefully some readers may remember being there), but that's a little aside. What drew my attention was that the door to this public lavatory was wide open, and someone had thrust their defunct umbrella in the bowl of the toilet, so that it looked like some form of modern art; a metaphor for mankind's continual second placing to nature? What really struck me was that someone had gone to the attention of actually sticking the destroyed umbrella in this toilet in such a manner, as it looked as though someone had given it real thought. Bizzare.

So I suppose at this point I should lead the discussion from this opening anecdote into a further abstraction of the above, whereby I discuss something like creating beauty and art out of everyday things? Or perhaps lead in to a discussion of climate change as a result of the blown-out umbrella? Unfortunately, neither of these things will be discussed. The truth is that this incident was one of a number of strange occurances I seem to have been witness to lately. I'm not going to list them all here, as I'm sure some of them aren't nearly as funny or wierd as I seem to think they are, but it seems as though there's a lot of funny business going on with the public of Cardiff at the moment. Perhaps those Krillitanes have been invading again. Last night one fell in to my pot of yoghurt. That, Dear Reader, was a careless mistake.

Is anyone else slightly scared by the fact that it's mid-January already? I mean, seriously, last time I looked it was New Year's Day and I was watching entire series of (the hilarious) Peep Show. Ah well, time flies when you're having fun. Or reading about discursive psychology. One of the two.

CyberControl's Top 5 Points of Stability in a Strange Universe:

The Cooper Temple Clause - Waiting Game
The Long Blondes - Giddy Stratospheres
Roxette - Dressed For Success
Jimmy Eat World - Polaris
Rufus Wainwright - Agnus Dei

To The Future

2006-12-31T16:19:00.000Z

So, Dear Readers, that was 2006. Was it fun? Did you have a good time? I sincerely hope so. I'd like to take this opportunity to wish you all the very best for the forthcoming twelve months anyways. I would insert something slightly profound here but a) I can't really think of anything and b) inserting an inspirational quote is something of a cliche in all honesty.

Anyways, to 2007! I've a good feeling about this...

The Singles of the Year 2006

2006-12-22T12:43:00.000Z

Or perhaps that should be subtitled 'What? No 'Jump in my Car'?'. For somehow David Hasselhoff managed to almost score a number one single this year with a dreadfully cheesy song, and a hilarious video. And purely for that reason he almost warranted a position on the following rundown. As did current novelty pop track 'Chacaron' by El Chombo which seems to border that fine line between madness and genius by having someone mumble over a basic backing track whilst someone else talks about Macaroons. Utterly bizzare. However, as will become evident, there is only space for one genius/terrible borderline track as it has been a great twelve months for individual singles. What other songs narrowly missed out? Well Snow Patrol's 'Chasing Cars' was, and still is, a beautiful love song that came close, as did both of the slightly bonkers yet immensely funky singles from CSS, and The Zutons' brilliant 'Why Won't You Give Me You're Love?'. Also, in the name of avoiding overtly favouring my fave bands ,The Bluetones' 'My Neighbour's House' was denied a place on this list despite being a brilliantly bouncy indie track. So, what songs defined and summarised the year musically? Not flaming 'Atlantis to Interzone' by The Klaxons to start with. Read on...

10. The Strokes - Heart in a Cage

From the second that Nick Valenti's lead guitar screams and screeches in to life, sounding as though he's trying to out do Guns and Roses' 'Sweet Child of Mine', this track immediately grabs your attention and inspires air guitar riffing. Whilst Jules croons about feeling out of place and missing chances with a girl, the musical accompaniment seems to veer between heavy metal and Iggy Pop-style punk, to make a track that rocks, swirls and broods in equal measures. What's more, the line "See I'm stuck in a city/but I belong in a field" seems strangely touching from a band so defined by their relationship to New York. The best thing they've ever recorded? Quite possibly, yes.

9. Boy Kill Boy - Suzie

Back in January, the music press was buzzing about this London-based band being the next big thing. However, when their debut single, 'Back Again', sounded like a rejected Editors track, people were right to be sceptical. However, that couldn't hide the fact that the follow up was a glorious three minutes of glam-indie-pop. With it's stacatto guitars, jerky synthesisers and downtrodden lyrics, culminating in the anthemic chorus hook of "count down to the disappointment/I'm your's tonight', it was a very special track. Perhaps if it had been their debut it would have better justified the hype.

8. Robbie Williams - Rudebox

Upon release of this track The Sun proclaimed it "the worst song ever recorded". The first time you heard it you had to check yourself that you'd heard it right. For why on Earth would an alleged 'global superstar' release a song with such quintessentially British lyrics as 'TK Maxx costs less"? However, that wasn't the real lyrical gem of the track, that was reserved for "the R-U-D-E-B-O-X/Goes up your jacksy and splits your kecks". Whilst the track proved once more that white, British men are not in anyway 'gangstas', you were never fully convinced that Mr. Williams also in on the joke, gleefully aware that what he was performing a pile of complete nonsense. Did he trick the world in to thinking this was serious? Is it really a subtle parody of hip-hop culture? Or is it just a really dreadful song? It's that pause that the track inspires that makes it fantastic. Go on, shake your rudebox. Whatever the hell that means.

7. The Holloways - Generator

"I can get a record player/and a generator/to generate the music that makes you feel better". What a fantastic statement against middle class angst this track was. Complete with indie-folk guitar parts that recall The Levellers in more ways than one, this track came along towards the end of the summer and shone brighter than a lot of the sunshine we experienced this year. Whilst some may say it was a little preachy, or a bit too much like The Levellers in fact, there's no doubting that it's a frank, joyous and bouncy reminder to be grateful for what you've got.

6. The Fratellis - Creepin' Up The Backstairs

Perhaps there should be a law that the track that announces your presence to the world should be as chaotic as this is, as it's breakneck chord sequence and quickly-delivered lyrics seem perfectly suited to inspire mass hysteria when played live. However, unlike The Libertines, who seemed to revel in being a total shambles on record, there's something quite ordered about this track that only adds to the energy of it. Whilst they went on to become absolutely huge towards the end of this year, this tale of youthful defiance of your parents and your siblings only underlines what I mean when I say that if I was ten years younger they'd probably be my favourite band, since this would be the reason why.

5. Keane - Crystal Ball

It begins with a wave of feedback and some glimmering, crystaline piano sounds that suggests something fragile and mysterious. From the second Tom Chaplin's vocals enter, proclaiming "Who is the man I see/where I'm supposed to be", it's obvious that the opening music is a good indicator of the rest of the song. What follows is four minutes of astonishing honesty, documenting what it really feels like to look at your reflection and not recognise the person you see. Depending on the mood you're in it makes for either comforting listening that someone else has experienced the same feelings, or a quite harrowing admission of helplessness. A strange, angry and bold choice for a single that seems to cry for help and then turn it away at the same moment. Truly fascinating.

4. The Rapture - Get Myself Into It

When The Rapture appeared a couple of years ago with their 'House of Jealous Lovers' track, I literally ran a mile. It sounded like a dog whelping the same four words over a backing track best described as consisting of an atonal guitar riff and some cow bells. It was only after the constant badgering from a good friend that I grew to appreciate said song. However, when I first heard this track I struggled to believe it was the same band. Slick, funky and intensely groovy, it was both a throwback to the late 1970s and completely of it's time, and flowed with the attitude and style you come to expect of a band originating from New York.

3. The Killers - When You Were Young

Whoever thought that the lyric "He doesn't look a thing like Jesus" would wind up being one of the lines of the year? However, when it's delivered in Brandon Flowers' unimitable hollering wail it just somehow works. The whole song works as a bridge between the downtrodden, slightly sleazy sound of 'Hot Fuss' and the more widescreen Americana of 'Sam's Town', where there's uncertainty about climbing mountains and people riding swirling hurricanes. U2's (ironically titled) guitarist The Edge must also be kicking himself that he's been outdone by the guitar work on this track. It's just a shame they followed it up with the dreadful 'Bones': the most generic indie track in a long time.

2. Muse - Supermassive Black Hole

Muse comebacks are always notoriously impressive. I mean who could forget them announcing their second album, 'Origin of Symmetry', with the massive slap-in-the-face wall-of-sound that was 'Plug In Baby', or the way in which 2003's 'Absolution' was introduced by the brooding, menacing 'Time is Running Out'. Yet, really and honestly, was anybody expecting this as the comeback single for their new album? Gone were those walls of feedback and over the top riffs, and in came angular guitar and bass parts that more recalled the current Indie/art school movement rather than the heavy rock they're associated with. What exactly has it got to do with black holes? I haven't a clue. But it's a phenomenally adventurous and unexpected piece of music. It's place in this list was rivalled by the equally mad riffing of 'Knights of Cydonia', but just for having the sheer balls to produce this type of song warrants it's recognition over the other track. Sci-fi twinged, truly marvellous and featuring some of the best distorted, repressed screaming I've ever heard.

1. Kasabian - Empire

In a year that saw many bands suddenly a go a little bit bonkers (for example, see Muse), Kasabian raised the bar to ten, cleared that bar, and then raised it again with this storming, baffling lead track from their second album. What makes it such a great track though? Well, for starters it begins in a completely boring manner by coming across as a bog-standard indie stomp-fest. Then, all of a sudden and for no apparent reason, singer Tom shouts "Stop!" and it sounds as though you're suddenly listening to a rock cover of the Doctor Who theme (a feeling that only increases as the chorus finishes and the middle eight plays out). Complete madness. Add in the over-the-top video and it only adds to the appeal of the song. Quite what the lyrics have got to do with empires is beyond me (if anyone can explain then I'd be most appreciative), but this is a truly wonderful, mad, piece of music that is perfect for a bit of a pogo when played live or for a bit of a dance at a disco. Either way, it's guaranteed to get you on your feet.

The Albums of the Year 2006

2006-12-17T11:26:00.000Z

So, Ladies and Gentlemen the time has come for the first part of this most anticipated list. OK, so that might be a lofty claim but a couple of people have enquired as to when The Bronze Medal would impart its suggestions as to what can be considered the albums and singles of the year. And so we come to the first, and more predictable, part which considers what really were The Albums of The Year.

It's necessary however to note the limitations of this list, as these are only the Albums of the Year according to Yours Truly, and naturally can only cover records which I have heard. It would be pointless to proclaim something as worthy of inclusion on this list because a couple of friends say a record is very good (i.e. Thom Yorke's The Eraser, Guillemots' Through the Windowpane) nor because I've been very impressed with the singles a band has released and feel that the album would be great (Muse's Black Holes and Revelations and CSS' eponymous debut fit this idea). Moreover, this list can only apply to records released this year as I've picked up some fantastic old records (i.e. Interpol's Turn on the Bright Lights) this year, but it would just be a little silly to include them here. So, whilst a brief mention must go to Snow Patrol's Eyes Open and The Zutons' darkly humorous Tired of Hanging Around as they both narrowly missed out on a place on what follows, let's get started.

5. The Strokes - First Impressions of Earth

Arguably this was the most important album so far of The Strokes' career. Whilst the humongous amount of hype generated around Is This It more or less guaranteed the success of its successor, Room on Fire, there was a general sense that maybe the bubble had burst and people had replaced their love of the original art school renaissancers with many of the other bands that have emerged over the past two years. Not the case at all, as from the storming comeback single of 'Juicebox' last year it was evident that The Strokes had grown in confidence, taken their time and expanded their sound. This runs throughout the whole of this record since it sees the band experimenting with synthesisers ('Ask Me Anything'), heavier rock sounds ('Vision of Division') and even nodding towards The Pogues ('15 Minutes') and Franz Ferdinand ('On the Other Side'). However, it still retains those elements that have made The Strokes over the past two albums, such as the simple chord progression played with typical NY attitude on album opener 'You Only Live Once', the 80s synth-sounding guitar noise and Jules' trademark hurls. If anything, First Impressions is two tracks too long, with the band's trademark thirty minutes of music pushed towards three quarters of an hour, and resulting in a couple of tracks that could have been ommitted. Still, it proved why everyone went nuts about them in 2001 all over again.

High Points: 'Heart in a Cage' sounding like a cross between prog rock and Guns & Roses whilst rocking like a demon; Jules' drunken slurs on 'On the Other Side'; 'Electricityscape'.

4. The Bluetones - The Bluetones

A lot of people would probably be unaware that The Bluetones released an album this year, the lack of press attention they seem to attract these days. Some people may even be suprised to learn that they're still together. What this overlooks is that ten years after making, in my opinion, one of the greatest records ever recorded, they made its brother: an unashamedly British, jangly and harmonious guitar-pop record. It's a record that showcases the band at the best of their abilities, from their poetically polite, glass-gazing lyrics ('I had a purpose but I can't remember what' from 'Surrendered' exemplifying this well), to the usual high standard guitar riffing ('My Neighbour's House'), to the glorious vocal harmonies between the Brothers Morriss that exchange throughout, everything is literally in it's right place. What's more, despite the band's tendency for being slightly defeatest this is a wonderfully optimistic record, with tracks such as 'Hope and Jump' and 'The Last Song But One' offering positive outlooks and hope to either friends in need or the world is general. They even manage to take what could be deemed a bog-standard Indie strumalong and turn it in to something that builds to a triumphant climax on the ode-to-David Walliams' Channel Swimming that is 'Fade In/Fade Out'. If anything, this record suffers from the opposite of The Strokes, as you wish it was a couple of songs longer. Oh, and the Hammer Horror-esque keyboard on 'Head on a Spike' is pure Bluetones...

High Points - the polite submissiveness of 'Surrendered'; the mournful chello that sees out 'Thank You, Not Today'; the last minute and a half of 'Fade In/Fade Out'.

3. The Grates - Gravity Won't Get You High

Some music affects you. It can get under your skin, reflect the way you feel about somebody or the world in general and emotionally move you. Is this the sign of great music? Well, sometimes yes it is. However, sometimes you want to listen to something that rocks with a simplicity and innocence that makes you forget about the world. Sometimes, music should just be pure fun, and something that you just enjoy for the simplicity of what it is. Although there's much more to them, this is the core appeal of The Grates: a band that seem to have created and gleefully exist in this almost cartoon-esque world (for further evidence of this look no further than the huge cartoon giraffe that graces the album cover). It's impossible not to listen to a track like 'Trampoline', 'Science is Golden' or 'Inside Outside' and want to bounce around the room like a child high on fizzy drinks at a wedding. Similarly, it's hard not to taken in by the child-like charm of 'Lies Are Much More Fun' (with it's 'I'm gonna go like this to you' bridge) or the school music lesson delivery and use of instruments on 'Nothing Sir' and 'Little People'. However, what's fascinating about The Grates is the way this simplicity and innocence is contrasted with the darkness of the lyrics, which cover rejection ('19-20-20'), one night stands ('Howl', 'Trampoline', 'Seek Me') and even suicide ('Sukkafish'). Throw in to the mix the part-sulky, part-childlike, yet always engaging attitude of singer Patience's lyrical delivery and the heavy dose of knowing irony the band exhuberates, and you're left with a record that seems to baffle you as to what to make of it. And that's just them on record. The live experience works to perfectly underscore what's so fantastic, enjoyable and engaging about this band.

High Points: 'Science is Golden' - the best guitar punk-pop song ever written'; 'Inside Outside' and its coarse nursery rhyme style; the darkness of 'I am Siam' that closes the record, both baffling and exciting as to where they may be headed.

2. Roddy Woomble - My Secret is My Silence

It has been posed to me that Idlewild could record an album of avant-garde bleeps and noises, with no sense of melody, harmony or tone whatsoever and I would still proclaim it the record of the year. This is a somewhat harsh criticism I would say, countering such accusations with the idea that at the end of the day your favourite bands are your favourite bands for a reason: they write fantastic records. Anyways, when one of your favourite bands announces that they're going to take some time off whilst the singer releases a solo album of folk songs, many people may run away scared. When you see the sleeve of that album features every cliche you expect of folk music (beards, rural landscapes, excessive amounts of woollen clothing) then it may well set a few more alarm bells ringing. However, if you'd heard Idlewild's stupendous 2005 album Warnings/Promises and it's wondeful R.E.M. similarities you should well have been excited. Moreover, what this record did was confirm what I'd been trying to say for the past few years, that whilst Woomble remains the most enigmatic lyricist in Britain today, his songwriting partnership with Rod Jones is the most underrated currently in existence.

But what makes My Secret is My Silence so good? The answer to that has to be the sheer feeling it expresses, of growing up and living in a small, rural community where people's faces and expressions say more than the words they say. A place where the wind rustles through with a biting chill and the warmth you feel comes from being around the people around you. It is, in places, a terribly remote record, but it is also in many places a fantastically uplifting record because of the atmosphere it constructs and the feelings that arise out of it. Although written about rural places in Scotland, it's easy to relate to if you've come from somewhere small, or remote, or where life was once more rural and traditional.

High Points: 'As Still As I Watch Your Grave' - the song Idlewild never wrote; the title track and the beautifully haunting 'Act IV' coming one after the other to encapsulate the spirit of the album; 'Waverley Steps' and 'Play Me Something' epitomising the understated positivity of the record.

1. Keane - Under the Iron Sea

It's well documented that when bands come close to falling apart they make the best music. An immediate frame of reference for this would be R.E.M.'s 1998 masterpiece Up, which was made as the band tried to adjust to being a trio and almost went under because of it. However, what they ended up producing was an album that more than stands out from their exceptional back catalogue. When Keane emerged from the studio midway through the year with talks about infighting and arguments, my immediate reaction was 'Yeah, right'. 2004's Hopes and Fears was a good record, but 'Bedshaped' aside it seemed to lack that extra kick that would really make you sit up and take notice. If anything they seemed in danger of becoming 'another Travis', by which I mean a band that were radio-friendly but seemed just too darn 'nice'.

How wrong was I, for Under the Iron Sea is a phenomenal piece of work unequaled by anything I've heard either this year or, in all honesty, I've heard for a good few years. What makes it so good? Well partly it's the way in which it all coheres as a record, creating a fairytale-esque atmosphere that runs through it and identifiable in the artwork and the strange piano sounds that appear throughout. It's an album of mystical and mythical tones, of aquatic subterranean angels, towering cathedrals, crystal balls and frog princes. It's also an album of great longing and hurt that manages somehow to get through it all and end in a truly joyous, uplifting manner.

Thus, Under the Iron Sea represents something of a journey for the listener and this travelogue notion, and atmosphere, is evident from the opening line of 'Atlantic' which, after some eerie, floating piano and swirling synth sounds, begins by proclaiming "I hope all my days will be lit by your face" (probably the best opening line to an album since The Bluetones opened with "I don't have to be feeling down to speak with you" a decade ago) and is supported by the equally eerie 'The Iron Sea' at the album's midpoint. 'Is It Any Wonder?' is something of a bitter tirade about losing a sense of who you are, and this train of thought recurs regularly such as 'A Bad Dream' proclaiming that "I don't even know my strange old face", "Leaving So Soon?" identifying that "I can't turn it on and turn it off like you now as I'm not like you now" and brought to a peak with 'Crystal Ball' and it's bitingly honest middle section.

It's hard, and slightly unfair, to drag one track out as the key song on this record, but it's equally hard to simply overlook 'Hamburg Song' in the middle of all of this despair, since from the initial lonely organ accompaniment onwards it's something of a masterpiece. It's a little ray of light and hope amongst waves of confusion and loss that is hard to express in words. After 'Try Again' has literally ached with loss for an ex-lover (I don't know if it's possible for a piece of music to ache, but if it could it would sound like this), the ray of light identifiable in 'Hamburg Song' finally finds itself realised in the most triumphant, euphoric manner with album closer 'The Frog Prince'. This closing track, drawing its imagery directly from fairytales, leaves you with the impression that after this emotional journey, it's the simple things in life that should be treasured and that through simplicity one achieves beauty, that we should strip away the context that we as individuals inevitably feed into our lives, and celebrate and view things at a simpler level by appreciating things for what they are. Rarely has sorrow ever sounded so beautiful, and rarely has getting out of it sounded so euphoric.

In a year of great music, this record was head and shoulders above the competition.

"The Great Journey of Life continues"

2006-12-09T11:50:00.000Z

Hello, Dear Reader. How are you? So it's been a while since our paths crossed and I hope that all is well in your field. The reasons for our avoidance? Well, that can be boiled down to the fact that I'm trying to do three things at once presently (PhD, seminar teaching, work for Disney) I have very little free time. I've not even had the chance to begin to appreciate the wealth of Cult TV I received for my birthday. Ah, I look forward to a few days engaging with these programmes over a whiskey and lime. Nice.

Anyways, below are some photos of my travels and escapades over the last few months. I hope you enjoy them. If not then that's fair enough. There were supposed to be a couple of Kieran included here, but due to her request they have been excluded. Instead you get the usual photo of Newton Abbot clock tower, just without the tale concerning the Portreath of Newton Abbot, as I'm sure you've heard that enough times by now. Ages ago, I was going to heavily criticise the NME's 'Cool List' for the forthcoming year, but as I could only think of about five people I'd put on such a list I didn't bother. If anyone is really that interested, I can impart that information, but it's not that important in the grand scale of space and time.

The Grates playing live @ Cardiff Barfly. Needless to say, they were fantastic.

Patience from The Grates. The coolest woman in rock.

Meeting Alana and Patience from The Grates after they'd played in the Barfly, and looking rather pleased about it.

Ed attempts to impersonate Kenneth Williams. It's still not as good as my Don Corleone. Or Sean Connery. Or Ali Campbell. However, I now get violently attacked for doing these impressions when in the company of this man.

C-Rod after one too many Magners. I think by this point the conversation had passed on to some rather coarse subject matters.

Newton Abbot Clocktower. I expect they've closed that branch of the Alliance and Leicester by now, and don't ask what's probably become of that woman...

Tom, Laura and Kaz.

Enjoying a night out with Kaz and Tom. I honestly can't remember how long it'd been since I saw them both but it was, as usual, a pleasure.

Darren does his best impression of Elvis.

A manly hug from The D.A.Z. on my birthday. We went to an Italian restaurant that was run by a stereotypical Italian chap. I think he thought we were famous for some reason.

"Apathetic Bloody Planet"

2006-11-21T23:23:00.000Z

I was going to write a blog tonite, but the truth is I'm too tired and not feeling witty/profound/pretentious/angry/fannish enough to talk about anything of any great consequence, and as there's no-one on Messenger or MySpace to annoy whilst doing it, as much as I enjoy the company of iTunes, I'm gonna go and watch Twin Peaks.

As Agent Cooper says, you should give yourself a present at least once a day.

Thank You, America

2006-11-09T22:37:00.000Z

The title of this post isn't meant as a direct allusion to an Alanis Morissette song. The truth is I can't stand that Thank You track (you know the one, in the video she's stood naked in Times Square as a load of traffic buzzes around whilst she see's how many long words she can fit into a song). Nonetheless, my thanks go out to the people of America who, perhaps, have finally seen the light. When The Idiot stole the election in 2000 I didn't, to be honest, know much about what was going on. I was too young to remember any of the other US presidents, but I do remember that during my teenage years I became an admirer of America not only because one of my personal heroes, Michael Stipe, came from there and always had something interesting and unexpected to say (usually regarding American politics), but because the place really did seem like somewhere to aspire towards. OK, so I'm now just beginning to learn that life under Clintion was still no bed of roses (and some of his military decisions such as those related to Kosovo were questionable to say the least), but during that time there was always a sense of dignity projected about the place (if we overlook the Lewinsky affair, that is).

When 9/11 happened, it scared the hell out of me. However, over the ensuing years what really came to scare me when I started to learn about what was going on was that America had somehow allowed some backwards, red-neck Idiot firstly buy and the bully his way into power. To me, it was the equivalent of putting a character from Sesame Street in power, although that's an insult to Cookie Monster and Count Von Count. Then in 2004, after a holiday where I became fascinated with the election build up and it's coverage on US CNN (believe me, if you've never seen US CNN I can't recommend it highly enough, it really is so horrid that you have to keep watching. I wonder if 'Anderson Cooper 360' is still running...), I was so sure that The Idiot wouldn't get a second term I was literally bowled over when he got back in. I was almost physically sick when I heard the news.

So now, I offer my thanks to the American public for seeing the light and weaking the grip of The Idiot from power. Hopefully these next two years will work as an example of how American society can get itself back on its feet and actually benefit those least fortunate, so that scenes like those evidenced in New Orleans will not be seen again (I realise this is an impossibility due to the imbalance of global power and the poverty of the Third World, but you would at least think that in the alleged 'most developed country in the world' such images would never appear); that innocent people won't be sent on a war to settle a grudge that dates back to The Idiot's Father and the early Nineties, and that innocent people in occupied countries may stop dying as a result of this so-called 'war'; that the American education system may wake up once more and realise that Evolutionary Theory and scientific fact are widely revered for a reason, and that the whole of Enlightenment thought wasn't for nothing; that people deserve a minimum wage which allows them to live above the poverty line, and that stem cell research does not involve growing clones of people.

I hope in time America will look back at The Legacy of The Idiot and try and work out how it ended up in the mess it presently is, as probably the most disliked nation in the history of the world. Then again, in a world where David Hasselhoff is voted 'The Most Popular Man on the Planet', perhaps we should all adopt the approach of Germaine Greer and just call everything rubbish.

CyberControl's Top 5 Post US Mid-Term Election Songs:

CSS - Alala
The Grates - 19-20-20
The Bluetones - Surrendered
R.E.M. - Radio Free Europe
The Long Blondes - Once and Never Again

Resurrecting Your Cult Icon

2006-11-01T21:53:00.000Z

So, Dear Reader, where to start. Should I apologise that I've not written anything here for ages? Possibly, after all I did promise last time a full celebration of a certain Keane record. This, however , is not that review. The reasoning for that is that I've come out of the place I was in where I spent the weekend listening to said record and to review it in my current mood wouldn't do justice to the record's subtle nuances. Fear not though, as soon as I get in that place again such an article shall appear, as the strength of the album doesn't suddenly wither away. In all honesty, there's one song on Under the Iron Sea that is very important to me at the moment, but again there'll be more of a reasoning behind that when I get around to it.

Skirting around apologies for not posting, the truth is I've been really rather busy at the moment. PhD life means that there's always a lot to be reading, thinking about and discussing. Outside of work I have been busy, and a brief summary of this would be: saw the Cooper Temple Clause in Cardiff Union and they're still wonderfully snarly; almost killed by being pushed out in the middle of the road by a 'friend' whilst down at Cardiff Bay; enjoyed a very silly meal out with some friends (the meal itself wasn't silly, the conversation was completely off the wall though); discovered the wonders of decent Earl Grey and/or Darjeeling tea; fiddled around with (and was visibly in awe of) the life-size Cyberman voice-changer helmet; refined my PhD idea so that it's more or less what I want it to be; went to see The Grates support The Young Knives; met Patience and Alana from The Grates (the former is thoroughly lovely, the latter being really cool and friendly) and was so blown away from the experience that I couldn't tell you what The Young Knives were like; spent a week trying to rationalise how exactly in four months The Grates have become my favourite band; enjoyed Torchwood; been thoroughly skint; had a wonderful Eighties-twinged night out with one of my closest friends; joined the local committee regarding climate change; been told I'm something of a cult icon to my closest friends; suffered from god-awful Man Flu (seriously, I thought it was Meningitis at one point); thrown a successful, yet rather sketchy and heavily ironic Halloween party; rejoiced in Doctor Who's second triumphant year at the National Television Awards.

So that's the past then, what of the future? What does that hold? Well, hopefully some photos of some of the above-mentioned events; the more than welcome reunion with Ed, Kieran, TJ, Laura and Karen in Cardiff; starting a new job working for The Disney Store (don't laugh, I can't stop doing so myself); more Torchwood; papers to write and presentations to give for my PhD, and probably a good deal more random silliness at any given moment. Am I in a good place at the moment? Well, it's not quite the post-Grates high, but it'll do. There are other places I would possibly like to be, but they're completely unachievable for one reason or another. Oh, and I seem to be getting more and more intrigued by the music of Sigur Ros, it's just very expressive sonically. I promise the next post will be less 'me me me', Dear Reader. This has been a little egocentric. Finally, we'll end with an old classic:

CyberControl's Top 5 Mind-Bogglingly Amazing Albums That Make You Not Want To Buy Another Record for the Next Fifty Years:

The Grates - Gravity Won't Get You High
Keane - Under The Iron Sea
The Bluetones - The Bluetones
The Cooper Temple Clause - See This Through and Leave
Interpol - Turn On The Bright Lights

Brief, but More to Follow

2006-10-08T22:01:00.000+01:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, after spending a weekend in its company I feel I have to take this opportunity to let you know how wonderfully brilliant Keane's Under The Iron Sea album is. I'm going to provide a full justification for this shortly, but it really is perfect. Watch this space...

Equalisers, Indecision, and Stagnance

2006-10-03T21:54:00.001+01:00

Well, what a difference a couple of minutes can make to your general state of being. A few moments ago,this post was going to begin with a doom-laden moan about how my beloved Exeter City were never going to get out of the Conference after losing at (one of my mortal enemies) Grays Athletic. Why are Grays Athletic mortal enemies of mine? Well, first of all they're from Essex, so that immediately puts them on the backfoot. Then there's the small fact that they beat us three times last season. Then add in the fact that they've an ex-Torquay United goalkeeper and they really don't have a lot going for them. However, as with the Stevenage game earlier in the season, Billy Jones' last gasp equaliser has completely changed my outlook. So stick that in your shopping centre-sized pipe and smoke it, Grays supporters!

Right, footy banter over and done with, on to more serious issues. The truth is, Dear Reader, I don't really know what to talk to you about as there seems to be so much I could talk about, and yet at the same time there's so little. The problem is I've been spreading myself a little thin by blogging here and on MySpace. As a result you either have to come up with two sets of mind-bogglingly brilliant observations on a weekly basis, or post the same thing there and here thus appearing as not having enough original ideas. However, MySpace appears to me to be too full of people being cool and striking Indie postures for me to be a little geeky and discuss things Who related at great length, such as the news that Mavis from Coronation Street is going to be in Season Three. Bizzare! I wonder if they could get Derek, with his paper-clip topped van, to appear as well? That'd be immensely cool. Oh, and the esteemed Mr. Mark Gatiss has moved from being a writer for the series to being an actor in the series. Surely that, however, was only a matter of time. Oh, and how rubbish was the finale to Season Two of Lost?

I could further discuss Season Three, but I like the way the production team is keeping its cards closer to its chest this time around. I could discuss that I'm rewatching all of Season Two at present, and enjoying it a lot more second time around. I could discuss how things are going in Cardiff, the fact that everyone here is really friendly, approachable and are probably some of the most inspiring and fascinating people I've ever met. I could equally write an appraisal of one of the four brilliant albums that have taken up residence in my CD player, but I can't choose which one to discuss first. I'm tempted to discuss the forthcoming DVD release of the last Tom Baker stories/first Peter Davison stories, but that really does require a full post in itself.

Instead, I'm going to focus on an article I found online yesterday concerning the best songs to play at an Indie club night. I have to say I found the list rather unoriginal and tiresome. The top-rated song was the bloody Arctic Monkeys (surprise surprise), and whilst 'Mr. Brightside' rightly came in second, the rest of the list was your usual suspects, such as the bloody awful Kooks and the song that, if you believe most people, saved British music from whatever it was doing previously, 'I Predict a Riot'. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by the songs on the list, but my attitude to DJing was to try and play some new stuff mixed in with older, lesser heard songs so as to give people a little bit of range and open their eyes to stuff that's been overlooked by the histories constructed by the NME. The point I'm trying to make is that if you keep to the 'established classics' then every single night you go to becomes pretty much the same, just in different surroundings. Despite the attempts to differentiate the nights in Cardiff, they're all basically an ironic name (either lifted from a cult film character or a popular song) that plays the same stuff in a different order. And if you go along to too many of them you get the impression that the Indie scene is becoming stagnant and begin to lose interest in it. So, Dear Readers, I'd ask people to be brave, take a risk, and play some forgotten classic/overlooked anthem/something you like and no-one else does. You never know, you might get some eejit like me come and congratulate you or enquire as to who it is you're playing, thus opening their eyes to a new favourite band.

CyberControl's Top 5 Anthems from the Undergraduate Days

Queens of the Stone Age - No One Knows
The Coral - Dreaming of You
The Primitives - Crash
The Cooper Temple Clause - Panzer Attack
The Libertines - Up the Bracket

Forever Blue

2006-09-27T20:37:00.000+01:00

The Bluetones, Cardiff Barfly, 22nd September

Ten years ago a record was released that, despite debuting at Number One in the album charts, remains criminally overlooked in both discussions of the Britpop era and recent British music history. Cruely dismissed upon release as being 'sub-Stone Roses', at a time when The Stone Roses had taken about five years to decide that a) they thought they could be Led Zeppelin and b) they all hated each others guts, this record featured a picture of that eternally flightless bird, the peacock, on it's front cover: an image that captured the tone of the whole album. It was an album for all those who didn't get the girl, those who couldn't find the right words to say to that girl, those who had been trodden on by the world (including those closest to them) and were quietly, poetically, plotting their revenge despite knowing that they'd never get it. It was an album for those who didn't want to pretend they were a cockney, who didn't have the wit and irony to celebrate and criticise the culture they found themselves in, and who had grown tired of the bickering, drug-taking Gallaghers, partly hollowed by realising that there was no meaning behind what a 'Champagne Supernova' actually was. It was a record for the nervy guy in the corner who was liked but never deemed that important. Nonetheless, this was a record of hope, as encapsulated by it's title, 'Expecting to Fly', captured perfectly in that front cover image image, and transmitted through the lyrics and music.

It's now ten years since that record, and whilst all the other bands mentioned above have either come and gone, disappeared up their own artistic anal passages, or become comedic parodies of themselves, The Bluetones remain. They never conquered the world, they never sold millions of records. In short, they became that image that graced their debut album sleeve: an animal that, despite it's aspirations otherwise, is often forgotten although fondly recalled, and never soared to the heights that perhaps it'd imagined.

What they did get was a dedicated fanbase. This is demonstrated by the sold-out audience of devoted followers of the Blue Army gathered together on this bright-yet-cold Cardiff evening, who are treated to a run through of a the old classics ('Slight Return', 'Soloman Bites the Worm), fan favourites ('The Fountainhead') and slightly obscure B-Sides ('Blue') mixed with new material from their forthcoming album, simply entitled The Bluetones. Does everyone enjoy it? Hell yes! Whilst the biggest cheers are reserved for the hits, all material is well recieved and the band clearly enjoy being back together and playing live again. What is remarkable about The Bluetones is how little they seem to have aged over the past ten years, for whilst Scott has grown himself a beard, and Eds has lost a bit of hair, Mark and Adam still look as fresh-faced as they did when they could still get in the pages of the NME.

The new material demonstrates a return to their jangly, reflective, early work, with 'Surrendered' demonstrating this well, whilst new single 'My Neighbour's House' is a tour de force through harmonious, melodic indie-pop. We get the usual random facts attached to certain songs that we've come to expect over the years ('Slight Return' is introduced as being 'the cabbies favourite'), and it all rounds off with the kind of song that sums up The Bluetones' career, 'If...'. With every new album you momentarily wonder 'if' this is going to finally be the time that it all clicks for them. However, part of you melancholically realises that, deep down, they're forever going to remain as grounded, and yet loved, as that flightless bird. Hopefully though, they'll still be around in another ten years though.

V for the Future

2006-09-21T20:09:00.000+01:00

And so, it's now time to draw our quadrology to a close. Despite what you might think, that last post was not meant to be the glorious conclusion. It was instead getting something out of my head that had been lodged in their for a good few days, and aside from going outisde and shouting it out or writing it on my wall in some form I couldn't think of a better way to let it out. Bit like an annoying itch that needs a scratch. Still, it allowed for me to celebrate how great Idlewild are at putting their finger on abstract feelings once more.

The truth is, I'm not really sure how to bring our quadrology to a satisfying conclusion. It could end up like 'The Caves of Androzani', then again it could end up like 'Planet of the Spiders' (Obscure Who-related reference). Eitherways, all the things that could possibly be talked about, such as getting drunk in the back of a Ford Fiesta, kidnappings, inappropriate comments, faux-Led Zeppelin songs called 'Get Yr Arm In, Hairy Woman', and so on, seem both a little old and a little idiosynchratic: the kind of jokes that were hilariously funny at the time but when you try and explain them to other people just come across as a little lame. As a result, we're not looking backwards this time, but instead looking to the future with a sense of optimism and hope, which is always important. There'll always be the memory of a weekend in Stafford, followed by some days in Teignmouth, Newton Abbot and Exeter that won't be forgotten easily.

It's been a good week. Still quite busy as there has been a lot to catch up on that got pushed aside what with finshing my Masters dissertation. As a result, I feel as though I could do with an extra week before this whole PhD malarky starts up on Monday. Nonetheless, I'm getting a real sense of 'returning home' just walking around the Bute building once more and the fellow postgrad students all seem cool. I still can't get my head around the fact that I'm actually going to achieve what I always set out to, as that's a little freaky. I suppose in that respect it's better that I've not had much time to let this all sink in as it may confuse me further.

So, to the future, Dear Readers! If I had a glass of wine handy I'd propose a toast, but it's still a little early in the evening for that. Let's hope that the next three years are as much fun as the last three at Cardiff Uni were.

CyberControl's Top 5 Songs for the Start of a New Adventure:

Gomez - 78 Stone Wobble
Idlewild - A Modern Way of Letting Go
The Grates - Sukkafish
The Bluetones - My Neighbour's House
R.E.M. - Gardening at Night

A Statement

2006-09-20T23:29:00.000+01:00

"If I know, what I know,
Losing isn't learning to be lost.
It's learning to know when you've lost."

(Idlewild, A Modern Way of Letting Go, 2002)

Right. Glad I've got that out of my system. That lyric has been running around my head for about the past five days and I've been wanting to make it explicit. So there we are. It's out there now. Make of it what you will.

V for Visual

2006-09-18T10:52:00.000+01:00

Craig, Stu and Myself sat in my tent on Saturday morning, awaiting the beginning of the V Festival. As you can note, everyone was very happy at this point in space and time.

And, despite the rain, all the smiles remained as the party made their way into the arena for a weekend of musical frivalties

Evidence of the Glow Sticks! Unfortunately, due to the lack of a substantial dance tent there was no chance to properly throw some shapes, but nonetheless this is Stu enjoying The Grates with some glow sticks.

Feeding Time (Lord)

A photograph taken during the aforementioned Barbeque Incident. I think it's important enough to warrant capitalisation now, Dear Readers. It was that much of an abomination.

Keane doing a very good job at being the best band of the whole weekend. I can't remember which song they're playing here...

...however, this was them definately playing 'Try Again' as, from memory, this was the only song they played where Tom played the piano as well. I think...

This is Beck playing on the Main Stage on Sunday. Unfortunately these photos are the only decent ones I have of bands playing at the festival, as I was too far back to get decent shots of people such as The Grates, Rufus Wainwright and The Beautiful South. Ah, the problems of using disposable cameras!

Three weary travellers awaiting to depart on the Monday morning. Note how the tone of the body language has drastically altered from the jovial looks of everyone seen earlier. It seems as though eye contact can barely be made between all members of the party.

"Hello. I'd like to talk to you about The Conservative Party."
This, Dear Readers, is the visualisation of an ongoing joke about Conservative Politicans. My Dad thinks its a work of comedy genius, but I think he's being a little over the top. It's supposed to be an impression of David Cameron.

David Cameron visits The Ness in Teignmouth. Unfortunately, it's not The Family Ness, as that would be cool, but they've not been spotted in Devon since the mid-1980s when a group of disgruntled fishermen attempted to sell them at the local fish market.

To fully appreciate this joke, you have to be familiar with the picture that adorned Morrissey's last single, which saw the singer looking disgusted at an ice cream. This, is a rather half-hearted attempt to recapture that image.

The pavement near the seafront in Teignmouth, accompanied by Craig's trainer. What a dedicated follower of foot fashion that man is!

I thought this man was dead. Instead, it turns out he works in a rather salubrious pub in Teignmouth that used to be frequented by Muse and looks like he should be in Metallica. Wierd.

Newton Abbot Clock Tower, looking quite picturesque in the early morning sunlight. It's not like that come the night, as there's usually some tramps and people having drank too much hanging around it. However, I did once meet the Portreath of Newton Abbot outside of the Clock Tower. Now, I never realised Newton Abbot had a Portreath and was quite impressed, continuing to ask him how one became the Portreath of Newton Abbot, which he duly explained. When I asked him if he'd ever been to Castrovalva, he looked very confused and walked away.

And finally, my Dearest Mother. Quite what she's looking so pleased about is beyond me but she'll be astounded there's a photo of her on the Internet. Good old Mumsy.

V for Very Good

2006-09-04T23:20:00.000+01:00

So here we are. Not only is that a nice foreshadowing of comments to come but it also marks a certain frankness to this post, which is supposed to be the sequel to the last, and hence the second installment of our quadrology. Now the law of sequels states either you have to build on and develop the narrative universe in new and exciting ways, developing character and so on, or that you throw a load more money at it, increasing the scope and explosions but losing the heart of the original and making everyone forget how good it was in the first place. Judge for yourself, Dear Readers, where this one falls.

Let's be honest though, the last post went on for a bit and whilst it was nice to review all of the artists it may have been better to have just offered the edited highlights. As a result, that's what you'll get this time. Sunday brought some much needed hilarity to the non-music proceedings, due to the rain dampening the spirits of all involved. This hilarity emerged in the form of the worst attempt at a barbeque I've ever had the pleasure to witness. Not only was said barbeque supposed to demonstrate that a pizza could be cooked in such a manner, but it was also supposed to demonstrate the ability of other foods suitability to barbequing, including amongst others pitta breads and cereal bars. In honesty, it was the biggest shambolic embarassment I've ever seen as one of the party (and I'm not gonna name names as I feel they should escape with at least a little dignity) attempted two pitta breads stuffed with marshmallows (only for one to end up on the grass) and one cereal bar were placed on said cooking implement. When these failed, said individual lost interest and then seem astounded that you could barbeque a sausage roll. Sometimes, Dear Readers, words fail me...

On to the music, and Sunday brought high expectations due to the quality of the bands playing on the Main Stage. Before that could happen though, there was enough time to be re-aquainted with KULA SHAKER who were making a welcome return after their unexpected split in 1999. There's something immensely satisfying about hearing songs you loved when you were growing up, such as 'Tattva' and 'Hey Dude', again, and although their new material was solid and typically them, the biggest cheers were reserved for the old classics.

The rest of the day was spent camped out in front of the Main Stage for various bands. THE MAGIC NUMBERS were pleasent enough if rather twee and forgetable, whilst BLOC PARTY did their utmost best to prove why everybody has been quietly going crazy about them. Intriguing guitar work? Check. Nervy, edgy lyrics displaying a sense of modern paranoia? Check. Great stage presence? Check, and whilst the material from last album Silent Alarm was best recieved by the crowd, new song 'Waiting for the 7:18' - written about experiencing the London bombings last July - displayed a level of poignancy as it covered such communter habits as escaping to Brighton for the weekend. In short, the song proved a touching and harrowing experience at the same time. Probably why they played it first.

The came KEANE, and they blew the socks off me. In all honesty I wasn't expecting them to be the best band of the weekend. Not because they're not a good band, but given the piano-led nature of their stuff, and the other bands playing, they didn't jump out at me as much as some of the other acts. How wrong I was, as they were truly fantastic. Playing a set that mixed the hits from Hopes and Fears with most of the new album, Under the Iron Sea, the undoubted highlight was soaring ballad 'Try Again', for whilst the biggest cheers were reserved for the singles, this song was performed with such intensity it was captivating. A number of people also seemed to have new single 'Crystal Ball' lodged in their head afterwards as well, judging by the amount of melodic humming that followed their performance.

Next up was BECK, complete with puppets and the usual array of innovative strangeness that comes to be expected from one of his live shows: songs start, stop, mould into others, get played in different ways and the general sense is that this is organised chaos at its best. The set consisted mainly of material from last year's (great) Guero album, but added in the expected classics ('Devil's Haircut, 'Where it's At) and a few newies to keep everyone interested. The wierdest moment of the festival had to be the performance of 'Clap Hands' however, which consisted of Beck singing, whilst his band sat around a dining table playing the accompanying precussion on cutlery and glasses of water.

After three great performances, surely it was time for RADIOHEAD to lay waste to everyone else and reaffirm their status as the greatest band, and live act, around at the moment. You would think so, but unfortunately there was something distinctly workman-like about their performance. Whilst in no ways bad, it just lacked something to kick it off. The largely 'Greatest Hits' set gave a feeling that the band were simply going through the motions and, whilst the stuff off The Bends and OK Computer is always warmly recieved, the relative lack of stuff from (in my opinion the most interesting record ever recorded) Kid A was disappointing. Sure, when songs from this album appeared it was great: 'National Anthem' was suitably chaotic, 'Idioteque' as fascinatingly cold as it is on record, and 'Everything In It's Right Place' reaffirming its place as their most enigmatic (and best) song. One thing that was strangely comforting about Radiohead's performance was that, between the end of the main set and the first encore, the entire crowd broke into a simultaneous chorus of 'For a minute there, I lost myself' as though it was some form of national anthem, confirming the general sense of anomie existing in these times. This may be Yours Truly reading too much into a chance occurance, Dear Reader, but it gave me a strange feeling of being part of something and yet totally isolated at the same time. If only they'd have played 'Let Down'...

And so, CyberControl's Top 5 Bands (and songs) of the Festival were:

1. Keane (Try Again)
2. The Grates (Inside Outside)
3. Rufus Wainwright (Hallelujah)
4. Bloc Party (Waiting for the 7:18)
5. Radiohead (Everything In It's Right Place)

Right, enough of the music, now time for the pictures!

V For Vitality, Virtuoso and Valiant

2006-08-29T21:13:00.000+01:00

"In an interstellar burst, I am back to save the Universe"

(Radiohead, 1997)

A rather bald statement to make, Dear Readers, but fear not as service has now been resumed. What shall then follow over the next few days is a review in four parts. A quadrology if you like. And, like the Alien quadrology, the first two will probably be excellent, the third thoroughly depressing, and the final installment a little bonkers and all over the place. Or maybe not. This has been my experience of the last two weeks, ranging from feelings of slight mania and recurring jokes about Germaine Greer, David Cameron and Morrissey through to feelings of uselessness, introspective self-reflection and the questioning of your own sanity. In short, it's been the usual emotional rollercoaster a trip to Devon usually brings about. And yes, there's even photographic evidence to support it.

So we begin with the V Festival that took place over the weekend of August the 19th in Weston Park, Staffordshire, although if you'd have read any of the reviews or watched any of the television coverage you'd have been forgiven for believing that it only took place in Essex. Anyways, the trip up to V can largely be forgotten, aside from noting that spending twelve hours in the confines of a Ford Fiesta is enough to send Yours Truly thoroughly out of his tree (you see Dear Readers, I started questioning my sanity within a day of being back associated with the West Country). I don't know if you've ever seen the classic episode of One Foot in the Grave entitled 'The Beast in the Cage', where Victor Meldrew ends up stuck in a Bank Holiday traffic jam on the Motorway, but that is the immediate reference point. At one point I was willing to recreate R.E.M.'s Everybody Hurts video and just abandon the car and walk off across the neighbouring fields. I still think the reasoning for this comes from over-exposure to such 'classic' songs as Paul McCartney's Mull of Kintyre (in my opinion, the worst song ever recorded) and The Frog Chorus.

Anyways, after pitching a tent in the dark and the rain on Friday night, Saturday brought the expectation of watching some bands, even though the main acts to be looking forward to were playing the next day. The continuing rain meant spending the entire weekend in Wellys (and, if I don't mind saying, looking terribly nonchalant with it), and a continual threat of downpores to dampen the spirits. This luckily was not to be the case. The music began in light drizzle over on The Other Stage with a band called KEITH. Keith is a terrible name for a band. It's the kind of name you give to a comedic old guy in a sitcom (or maybe that's just my love of the dark genius of Marion and Geoff?). Keith (the band) had won a competiton on Channel 4 to open the festival this day and their lack of experience and nervousness duly shone through. Too many times their drummer resorted to bashing the hell out of some cow bells, or the singer swearing and encouraging the crowd, whilst their songs, although pleasent and energetic, were ultimately forgetable.

It was then time to drag my compadres into the Carling Union Tent to witness my New Favourite Band (TM), THE GRATES. In short, they're absolutely fantastic. An Australian three-piece consisting of guitar, drums and vocals, their very line-up reminds you of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. The key difference being the delivery since they lack all the New York art school posturing and agonising necessity to be insanely stylish and cool. Instead, they have an irresistable charm and innocence, which hides a much darker, coarse subtext in most of their songs, and in singer Patience they've an undisputed star in the making. She throws herself around the stage with such joyous enthusiasm that you can't help but be sucked into their world. The set showcased their album 'Gravity Won't Get You High' well, with my personal faves 'Inside Outside', 'Science is Golden' and '19 20 20' being saved for the end.

With a broad smile on my face, and some rather tasty food in hand, it was time to make the journey back out into the rain towards the main stage to take in THE DANDY WARHOLS. In short, the Dandys are everything The Grates are not. They swagger on stage, ignoring both each other and the crowd, start playing their instruments at different times and gradually come together to start playing a song. In honesty, the set is peppered with such recognisable tunes as 'Get Off' and the crowd-pleasing 'Bohemian Like You', but the can't-be-assed delivery, lack of energy and 'How long have we got left?' comment before set closer 'Boys Better' ultimately produce a distance between the band and the audience.

The SUGABABES appear onstage polished, in more than just the vocal department, pleasing the crowd with a few hits but before too long its back into the dry confines of the Union to witness JIM NOIR, an upcoming singer-songwriter in the Badly Drawn Boy quirkiness style. Noir appears on stage with his band, accompanied by a selection of lamps and garden Gnomes, singing songs about losing your football, computers, and playing music in the key of C. It's an entertaining, pleasent and melodic thirty minutes that culminates in recent single (featuring a video with a man taking on a 10ft fall chicken) My Patch that gets the whole crowd singing along.

Back out into the rain then to witness a band I thought I knew nothing about, DELAYS, on the other stage. One of the best things about a festival is introducing, or being introduced to, great bands by your mates and this was a case of that. A good few times their melodic harmonies and sunshine-drenced synths make you forget that you're stood in the pooring rain, whilst other songs suggest a darker, more epic, U2-esque feel to some of their new material. All this whilst accompanied by some spot-on falsetto vocals from the singer. Although the crowd were most behind recognised hits such as Long Time Coming and Nearer than Heaven, the other material proved popular hinting at a gathering fanbase for the Southampton band.

Over on the main stage, HARD-FI seem to be throwing the rock and roll kitchen sink at the audience to underline how great and down to earth they are. Truth is they're neither. Singer Richard flits between cliche (regularly telling us he 'doen't believing how great this weekend is'), appeals to being 'like the audience' (tedious reminders that they also used to work in unsatisfying jobs), and entries from the F**k Dictionary liberally to underline how horrid they actually are. Seen as though I only caught the last four songs, and three of them were their hit singles, the rest of the set must have been something dreadful as what I witnessed was crap.

There's something about being at a festival that, in my experience anyways, means you end up hankering for a bit of nostalgia in the late afternoon/early evening period. It seems that just as everyone else is preparing for the evening's acts to raise the bar a bit further, I end up requiring something secure and dependable, and what with all these new acts I'd exposed myself to over the course of the day, the chance to see GOMEZ was more than endearing. That and the fact they were playing in the indoor JJB Arena, rather than being stood out in the (incresasingly cold) rain. Now Gomez are a dependable live act. I've seen them three times now, and they've never disappointed. If anything, the sizeable crowd, the reaction they recieved, and their obvious disappointment at only being given forty minutes to play, meant they should have been on later and for longer somewhere else. Having said that, the reason that they're such a dependable bet is because a) they're great musicians that obviously enjoy playing together live and b) they like a bit of a party. Despite the unfamiliarity of their new material, it was warmly recieved by the crowd, the classics never disappoint with Whipping Piccadilly firmly documenting that great feeling you get when you do something totally random like jump on a train and see where it takes you.

Remaining in the cover of the JJB Arena, it was time for the crowd to suddenly age a good few years as THE BEAUTIFUL SOUTH emerged to a thoroughly warm reception. Unfortunately, the popular opinion of Hull's Second Finest Band these days is that their a bit old and a bit dull. True, their new material has been a bit patchy as of late but that hides the fact that they've got one of the most intellegent, biting, yet poignant lyricists this country has ever produced in Paul Heaton. What's more, the crowd seem to lap up his presence, constantly chanting his name and hanging off his every word. The set wisely consists mainly of their best known material, but the presence of fan fave 36D (the song that says more about contemporary feminism a lot better than anything Germaine Greer could ever come up with) is more than welcome. Elsewhere, Don't Marry Her provides a welcome bit of tongue-in-cheek humour and You Keep It All In is greeted rapturously. Shame there was no Song For Whoever, but a great time was had by all.

RUFUS WAINWRIGHT. Does that name mean anything to you, Dear Reader? Aside from his sister's hauntingly beautiful duet on the new Snow Patrol record, and a rather hazy recollection of one of his album's being reviewed on Newsnight Review, I knew nothing. When his equiptment, consisting of a piano and an acoustic guitar, was set up I didn't know what to expect. What was experienced was the most mesmerising display I've ever had the privilege to witness. For one guy to hold the stage with such presence for fifty (too short) minutes was amazing, and whilst I knew none of his material I was at convicned by the end that I needed to hear more. Midway through he covered Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah and I, like a lot of people, thought no-one would ever match the haunting quality Jeff Buckley's version captures. I always liked to be proved wrong, however, for this was a very special, intimate performance.

So it was time for the evening's headline act to be seen, and whilst Morrissey flounced around in his typically airy, self-deprecating manner on the Main Stage, and Razorlight turned the arrogance levels up to eleven elsewhere, the promise of some snarling, raw anger and the best frontman in contemporary music proved too much of a draw. However, THE COOPER TEMPLE CLAUSE were victims of problems from the word 'Go' tonight. Gordon Strachan once said about a humiliating Celtic defeat in Bulgaria that death would be easier than that particular night, and unfortunately that same analogy would apply to the Coopers tonight. Their set was delayed by the previous band over-running. It took an age to set up their trademark wall of electronic equiptment. When the intro music (sounding suspicously like the intro to personal fave New Toys) jammed the signs weren't good. Then the wall of electronics shorted out mid-song leaving them stranded and having to wing the set. The Same Mistakes was started and then abandoned about thirty seconds later as the bass gave up. In honesty, it was testament to the band's resolve that they didn't just walk off and abandon it. Many other's would have. Still we were treated to new material in the shape of Damage, Head and Homosapien which all displayed their trademark snarl. And the sight of lead singer Ben Gautry stood perfectly still, illuminated by a single low red light, brooding in a mix of intensity, passion and anger as he sings is worth the problems since his vocals (and their delivery) literaly ooze authenticity. It was just a real shame that all the other elements were against Team Cooper tonight.

A Silence Falls

2006-08-15T23:49:00.000+01:00

Just to quickly let you know, Dear Readers, there'll be a temporary hiatus of all things Bronze Medal for the next couple of weeks whilst I take an extended leave of absence. Yes, it's time for me once more to return to that 'delightful' place of origin, Newton Abbot, and see what it has to hold for me this time. It surely can't be any worse than the last trip back, put it that way.

So by the time normal service is resumed many things will have passed: my recent trip to Manchester will (unfortunately) be a memory; the trip to the V Festival, complete with glowsticks and a worryingly small number of tents, will have come and gone meaning I'll have seen Radiohead live for a second time (v. excited about that); my Mother and my Gran will have aged by another year; Ed and Kieran will have experienced a night in Newton Abbot; hopefully, the Savages will also be around so that more hilarity can be experienced there, and at least one evening will be lost to pints of Diesel (that's local cider with the unfortunate ability to inflict immediate amnesia on the person drinking it) . Who knows, maybe the Universe will have worked out what's fundamentally wrong with it by the time normal service is resumed? I've been getting quite worried by all of this war in the Middle East and imminent threat of terrorist attacks. Never forget Dear Readers, there is always hope.

So, that's a nice upbeat note to leave things on. I wish you all well for the next couple of weeks, and I shall hopefully return, with photographic evidence, from my travels.

If not, avenge my death.

Here We Go Again

2006-08-10T21:12:00.000+01:00

Ha ha! So to my amazement someone left a comment here about my Who-related rant. I do apologise for the last post since it was a bit unfocused. Still, opportunities to discuss DVD releases and mention Timelash in a celebratory, yet ironic, manner are always few and far between. Anyways, now attention turns to far more serious things, since we are on the eve of another nine potential months of false optimism, occasional flashes of brilliance, but eventual disappointment. Yes, on Saturday the football season kicks off, and Exeter City once again set off on their noble quest to drag themselves back into the Football League.

Apart from this time I'm being a lot more realistic, a bit like after England going out of the World Cup acting as a sobering realisation of just how rubbish a team is. You see, Dear Readers, last season we should have been promoted. We had the players, the manager, the momentum, and a general sense of optimism coming from ending the season as the league's form team and, of course, that unforgetable draw at Old Trafford in the FA Cup. For the first half of the season, this was the case. We flew through to Christmas, achieving some great results and being second in the league. There's a certain irony that I saw the 4-0 demolition of Aldershot on Boxing Day and tricked myself into believing that we were certainties for promotion. Two days later and Alex Jeannin's left foot did what it rarely did in two years with us: scored a goal, therefore condeming us to defeat against Hereford. From there it fell apart. Spectacularly. And to make matters worse, Torquay didn't get relegated either.

Over the summer, we lost our manager (although some might say this was a good thing). We've also lost our Cult Hero, our club captain and a few other people along the way. We've replaced them with ... well, the players haven't been adequately replaced and the manager is some unproven person with only experience of managing a university team. Although the acquisition of Adam Stansfield from Hereford is welcome, he can still fail. After all, I had high hopes for Craig Farrell last year and he didn't perform. Consequently, I don't expect us to win at York on Saturday. I don't even expect us to win our first home game next Tuesday against Forest Green Rovers, seen as though history is against us there. Some might well accuse me of being pessimistic and, truthfully, I'd agree with them. The only thing is after three years of being overtly optimistic and ending up disappointed I've decided for a different approach. Plus, it's always nicer if you've got lower expectations and they're exceeded. So let's hope I'm proved wrong. Let's hope this is the Grecians year and, more importantly, let's hope that if we do get ourselves up there the usual vertigo doesn't set in. Oh, and while we're hear, let's hope for an end to the good start to the season being experienced by Torquay and Argyle.

CyberControl's Top 5 for (tentatively) approaching the new season:

Kasabian - Empire
Boy Kill Boy - Suzie
Roddy Woomble - My Secret is My Silence
The Cooper Temple Clause - New Toys
Idlewild - Live In a Hiding Place

Why?

2006-08-07T20:18:00.000+01:00

Oh dear, Dear Readers, can it really be true? Is someone somewhere in the depths of the BBC sat there laughing hysterically at the trick that they've just pulled? Are people really sat in their houses, gathering their pennies together in a desperate attempt to pool their resources and purchase the abomination to the left of us? Yes, Dear Reader, someone somewhere thought it would actually be a good idea to release Mark of the Rani on DVD. However, what makes it worse is the way in which they're pitching this to the public, under such statements as 'a Historical Epic' and 'the Introduction of a Classic Doctor Who villain'. Ladies and Gentlemen, advertising lies. Please, listen to the words of someone who more often that not triumphs Eighties Who for its tackiness, and avoid this piece of rubbish. If you want to see a better, similar story then buy The Visitation. If you want to see Who at it's most dreadful best (yes, I'm fully aware that's an oxymoron) then go to eBay, type either 'Timelash' or 'Warriors of the Deep' into the search and buy yourself a cheap VHS copy of either of these.

"Surely it's not that bad!" I hear you crying in defence, Dear Readers. The answer is, I'm afraid, that it is. What's wrong with it? Firstly Pip and Jane Baker are about the worst writers the series ever saw in the history of the programme. When a CV contains such 'illustrious' highlights as Terror of the Vervoids (yes, it was the first story I ever saw and gave me nightmares when I was four. Nowadays it gives me nightmares that it gave me nightmares), The Ultimate Foe (probably the biggest load of nonsense from a period characterised by a load of nonsense) and, lest we forget, Time and the Rani (camp, dayglo rubbish featuring Bonnie Langford and Kate O'Mara playing Bonnie Langford) I think you get the picture. If there were any justice in the world they should be locked in a cupboard marked 'Let's Not Talk About This' and left to gather dust somewhere.

Secondly, so much of the story is complete arse. There's people being turned into trees, a baby T-Rex, something to do with Luddites and Eric Saward's by now tedious tendency for tying things into actual historical events. You know what, it's that nonsensical that I can't remember what the motivation of the Rani actually is. Aside from that, you get Anthony Ainley not having learnt anything from Planet of Fire and so still coming across like a pantomime villain, Nicola Bryant's dreadful costume and Kate O'Mara trying to out-do Anthony Ainley in the 'Who Can Overact the Most' competiton (as you probably gathered, no-one in my opinion will beat Graham Crowden in my opinion). I'm going to stop as this will just turn into one long rant against the story and I don't want it to be that. What I'm trying desperately to understand is why the BBC would choose to release this, unless their trying to show fans of the new series (who the classic DVDs seem inherently marketed towards at present) that this is about as low as you can get and to be thankful for what you have at present.

However, as a result of this grievance, I offer a slight variation on an established tradition by positing CyberControl's Top 5 Classic Who Stories That Should Be Out on DVD:

5. Timelash - Oh, it's nonsense! It's such appauling nonsense that it needs to be out on DVD for people to laugh at. To my knowledge the only Who story to be that underlength that it requires the worst twist possibly in the history of narrative. It's got the (always amusing) Paul Darrow in it trying to be intense, a pointless cameo by H.G. Wells and a pathetic looking torture device made from tin-foil. Worrying thing is I've worked out a nice documentary you could add on to this as a DVD extra. Yes, I have too much time on my hands.

4. Kinda - Given my great admiration for Season Nineteen (yes, including Time-Flight) the delay of this behind The Visitation seems strange. In equal places creepy, wierd and moving, it features some great ideas, some great acting from Janet Fielding, a possesed old Imperial and one of my favourite moments in Who history: when (the now deranged) Hindle emerges from his fort and discovers one of his cardboard subjects is broken he disparingly shouts at the suggestion that the 'person' could be glued back together "You can't mend people!" Never a truer word spoken. Oh, and then there's the huge paper-mache snake...

3. Image of the Fendhal - Arguably the series' last genuinely creepy story, and certainly the last of the Seventies Gothic turn. The image of the skull with the glowing eyes still unsettles me to this day, and when it all goes a bit bonkers at the end of Episode Three it's a great pay off: a possesed woman and some large, worm-like creatures, and the idea of mankind being the breeding ground for a greater intellegence all make this an often overlooked piece of brilliance in a period approached negatively by most of the fan community.

2. The Greatest Show in the Galaxy - During Sylvester McCoy's period, when they got it wrong, they got it wrong spectacularly. However, when they got it right, they made some of the best stories since the early Eighties. This is such an example. Arguably a comment on both the programme's status within the BBC (the Doctor forced to perform three Gods of Entertainment for his survival) and on the programme's fans at the same time, it's twists and turns are great, Ace is used well and the shot where the Doctor destroys the Circus is amazing.

1. The Sea Devils - The Master watching 'The Clangers' whilst in prison! Sinister, iconic creatures with cool, Seventies guns emerging from the sea wearing dresses! Some really great episode cliffhangers, especially the one with the diving craft returning empty from its mission! This story has it all and, when repeated on BBC2 in the early 90s, hooked me into the programme. For many years I've tried to perfect drawing a Sea Devil. For many years, I've failed. However, nostalgia aside, if this doesn't come out on DVD soon I'm gonna have to buy the video.

Superior Quality Recordings

2006-08-02T20:51:00.000+01:00

Right then, in celebration of the fantastic news that the Lads are heading out on tour again in the latter quarter of this year, and as quite rightly predicted by my good friend - the esteemed Savage McCee - this post is dedicated to one of my favourite bands of, well, the last twelve years: The Bluetones. Although their blend of truthful, heartfelt, melancholic lyrics and jangly, harmonious guitars never conquered the world, they 've consistently managed to absolutely nail my experience of life. Consequently, they've had a profound impact on both the outlook and guitar-playing skills of Yours Truly since the youthful days of Bluetonic in 1995. What follows then is a brief taster of some of their best lyrics from the past four albums. I hope you enjoy but in all seriousness just go and listen to all their albums as there are many more gems within.

"Sometimes, I smoke, I drink and I ponder
Can work wonders
When you're down, it takes your frown, and turns it around
And you, when you try, and make a difference
You're so different, to when I try and just die"
(If..., 1998)

"And if you remember me in a while, that's enough
And if you remember me and smile, that's enough"
(One Speed Gearbox, 2000)

"Can't be bought, and you can keep tomorrow
Can't be saved, there ain't no flies on me
Can't be caught, the plague that ate your soul can keep away from me"
(Are You Blue or Are You Blind, 1995)

"I keep my thoughts in little boxes
Boxes underneath the bed
Under the bed with your photograph, and the image is fading"
(Never Going Nowhere, 2003)

""The future is dead", that's what you said
"It's all in your head, you see
Not mine, I'm fine, I've arrived""
(4-Day Weekend, 1998)

"And now my heart's bisect
With eighteen-carrat gold regret"
(Marblehead Johnson, 1996)

"There's no heart you can't melt within a certain little smile
And no challenge should be met without a little charm and a lot of style"
(Bluetonic, 1995)

"Any fool can see that I'm a bad example"
(Ames, 1998)

"Oh, if you'd seen with these eyes and lived with these lies"
(Vampire, 1996)

"Baby's talking, it's what she does best/I'll just sit and agree
Firing insults glide out on her breath/Mostly about me
She says "Can't you look past the mirror sometimes? Take a look at your peers!
Stretching out all their half-assed ideas, into half-assed careers"
(Tiger Lily, 2000)

"I gained a stone cold fright
When it was put to me
Deep down, everybody you meet wants to knock your teeth out"
(Serenity Now, 2005)

"What can I say about being profound?
It's a game that we play, it goes around and around
I shall stick to the rules, but I won't suffer fools
No, I won't lose the plot, and I won't lose my cool
Can you see what I've done? Can you see what I do?
It's not really unique, but it's hopelessly cool
But these are my descisions, these are my mistakes
And I'll fall down again, if that's what it takes"
(The Fountainhead, 1996)

The Shape of Things to Come

2006-07-20T21:38:00.000+01:00

The above is an artist's impression of what can broadly be called 'the shape of things to come'. Admittedly, the artist who drew it is not up to much. You wouldn't really employ them as a Court Illustrator on this evidence, would you? Nonetheless, the above illustration is a vision of the future as its supposed to represent me, in my trademark Tom Baker-esque hat, with a couple of glow sticks, in the Dance Tent at the V Festival. Now you may rightly ask why I'm going to partake in such an experience but I just feel as though it's something that needs to be done. At the same time, one of the fellow festivalgoers is a dance music fan (he was once known to occupy a 'Sphere of Dance', whatever that might look like) and I feel it's only right to endulge in such pleasures. As a result, I hope to be able to bring you the actual version of the above sketch at a later date but for now this will have to surfice. By the way, did you know it's impossible to actually buy just one glow stick? Instead you have to buy a box of 1,000! I mean, who in their right mind actually needs 1,000 glow sticks?

Aside from that it's been another funny week, where I seem to get the feeling that I'm going around in circles and getting nowhere with my Dissertation. It's almost as though I've hit a brick wall and completely lost the plot of what it is I'm wanting to talk about which is worrying. I'm sure it'll come together again soon but for now it all seems a little pointless. I just seem to spend the days idling the time away watching videos and DVDs, and at the end of them I feel as though I'm still unsure of what it is I actually want to say about them, or that some smart person will along and completely dismiss what I'm trying to say. Hmm, sorry if this sounds like a little bit of a whinge, it's not supposed to. It's just that I can't really talk about it to anyone, and my housemates are (rightly) unsympathetic to someone who just watches TV for long periods of the day.

I've been looking at my music collection recently as it needed a bit of a tidy-up and have had the pleasure of revisiting either some songs I've completely forgotten about, or albums that I didn't 'get' when I first acquired them. The best example of this would have to be Do The Collapse by Guided By Voices. I bought this record mainly because I heard the track 'Hold on Hope' on Mark and Lard's show years ago (it's got a great chorus hook of Everybody's got a hold on hope/ It's the last thing that's holding me), and then got a recommendation of them when I bought a couple of old R.E.M. records online. This was years ago, and my first impression of the record was that it was really underwritten and a bit pointless (there are seventeen songs and the album lasts about 45 mins). However, since I've become more knowledgable about the whole American College Rock scene, I've decided it's a great, quirky little album concerning obscure aspects of American culture. I think. Anyways, the guitar parts are quite innovative, varied and inspiring so that always helps.

CyberControl's Top 5 Songs of the Moment:

Shed Seven - Cry for Help
Longpigs - She Said
Keane - We Might As Well Be Strangers
Guided By Voices - Mushroom Art
Spiritualized - Won't Get to Heaven (The State I'm In)

Viking Renaissance

2006-07-13T20:34:00.000+01:00

This, Dear Readers, is a call to arms. It is a call to reclaim a forgotten group of historical figures and propel them back in to the cultural zeitgeist in a (possibly ironic) way similar to the recent reclaimation of other historical tribes such as the Romans and Pirates. Yes, Dear Readers I am proclaiming a return to the popular imagination of those bearded Norsemen who wore silly hats that looked like a coconut with two demon horns sticking out of each side, rode in longboats, and enjoyed a bit of rape and pilage: the Vikings. For too long now other, predominantely evil sea-faring groups have enjoyed the limelight by themselves. Subsequently, I proclaim a campaign to place the Viking back in his rightful place. It may not be easy, but I call for your support.

The plan is thus: firstly, we need to get the image of the Viking back into the public memory. For this I think the best thing that can happen is this. Firstly, like the Pirate, the Viking needs to be reclaimed on the Interweb, so there have to be such things as Viking Podcasts, ironic 'Ask a Viking' films on YouTube and so on. The web is always looking for its next big gimmick and I see no reason why the Viking cannot surfice. Secondly, use it for your themed nights out drinking. All it takes is a few groups here and there to go out dressed as Vikings, proclaiming certain Viking things such as long boats and wielding plastic axes, and the image will soon be copied by the masses. From here, we can build a solid base to work from. Possibly we need some Vikings included in a band-of-the-moment's music video, similar to the way Gwen Stefani reclaimed the Pirate a little while ago. Moreover, I would call for a Hollywood movie that celebrates and ironises the Viking in a similar vein to Pirates of the Caribbean. Who knows, maybe we could get Bill Murray to take the lead in Vikings of the Norse or something similar? Perhaps we could even get ZZ Top involved to provide a tie-in song for the soundtrack? And perhaps we could even launch it under the tag-line of "Go Norse. It is Hairy there"? OK, maybe the last idea needs some work but you get the idea.

So join me Dear Readers, lend your support to the Viking Renaissance, and together we can propel them back into the public conscience.

Strange Days

2006-07-11T20:09:00.000+01:00

What a strange few days it's been, characterised by a building sense of melancholy and loss. What's even stranger is that you don't really realise it's happening until it passes. It started on Friday with the anniversary of the bombings of London. Now, it might appear a bit strange to think that, living in Cardiff, something like that could affect you. However, due to working for Directory Enquiries I unfortunately managed to experience most of it first-hand and it was less than pleasent. I remember people phoning up for the numbers of hospitals and places of work where their loved ones were supposed to be, unsure of whether they were even alive or where they were supposed to be and so on. That sense of uncertainty and panic was mixed with the sudden realisation that the people I knew in London might have been involved, so it was a pretty horrible feeling even though I wasn't there personally. Moreover, seeing the reports of people one year on and the memorials got under my skin for some undefined reason.

That sense of melancholy had a touch of disappointment added to it, due to the failure to find a new place to live. I suppose in all honesty I was quite looking forward to moving somewhere new but it now appears we're staying put. However, I can't believe the state of some of the places that are available for rent here. By far the worst was a place where the whole wall of one room was visibly damp, and just left there for everyone to see. Then there was a place with an elevator in it! I mean, who really thought that was a good idea (well, wheelchair access, naturally, but...)? Did manage to spark a memory of that movie Three Men and a Baby momentarily as I'm sure there was a lift in that. Did it have a rather elaborate painting outside of it? Come to think of it, how did the men come into possesion of the baby? And why? Sorry, I'm digressing. The point remains though that you would think that landlords would actually take a bit of pride in the presentation of their places to prospective tennants.

So couple this with the end of Who, and traces of academic cabin fever (i.e. sitting in your room thinking a lot, which eventually makes you go out of your tree as you get caught up in theory), and I was left possesing a feeling that's been more than a little strange. However, glad to report that normal service has now been resumed. Unsure where it went but, hopefully, it won't return. Perhaps I put it in the wardrobe with the Wardrobe Monsters, I'm sure they'll find a use for it.

Speed of Light

2006-07-06T21:18:00.000+01:00

Hello, Dear Readers. What a strange time this currently seems to be, when there are so many things going on that at the moment that you feel as though you've not really got the time to dedicate yourself to anything other than that which is really important to you. So there'll just be a brief mention of England's less-than-glorious exit from the World Cup. At the time, I wasn't surprised as I'd been saying for a while that the first decent team they had to play would see the end of them. However, Portugal proved to be less than decent, and that didn't stop my final reaction to England's exit being a mixture of anger and disappointment at the fact that, when it mattererd, the team didn't perform for one reason or another. All that's left now is to hope that Italy win the tournament as they're playing good football. However, as the law of averages always proves, the best team never wins. If the team that played the best football won the amount of games they deserved, Exeter City would at least be in the Championship. Or is that just my own, completely unbiased opinion coming through?

I'm writing here from a position of safety it has to be said. I'm afraid, Dear Readers, that I have recently ventured in to the world of 'MySpace' despite being warned that it was full of fifteen year-old Emo kids with Fall Out Boy hoodies and ringtones. However, having toyed with MySpace, I have to admit it's not all it's cracked up to be. There was no chance to download the free music I was expecting, and instead all I'm faced with is mad Dashboard Confessional fans and obscure Cardiff-based metal bands wanting to add me to their mailing list. I got as far as trying to add Idlewild to my contatcts and then found the idea that Idlewild could suddenly become my 'Friend' both immensly cool and terrifying at the same time.

What also of the series finale of Who? How amazingly brilliant is it going to be? What is the Black Dalek? What is the Genesis Ark? How great was Army of Ghosts? How greatly did it restore your faith in both the scope and scale of the series, and RTD's writing? I can't wait for the final episode it's fair to say. Plus we have a new companion already recruited, although she won't be in the Christmas Special. As well, we have rumours abound about returning villains for next season: The Ice Warriors. I'm a bit ambiguous about that news to be honest. Whilst their name as 'Ice Warriors' was suited for their first story (they were in the Antarctic after all), the stories featuring them after that one made no reference to their 'icy' status. In short, I'm not sure what they'll do with them, and think either The Sontarons, The Sea Devils, The Silurians or maybe even The Borad (?!?) would be better for a return.

Just a quick note to say that things may go a little quiet around here in the next few weeks due to the fact that I'll be moving house soon. Unfortunately the time has come to depart this grand, open, if damp-ridden and cold-in-winter, palace. It won't be a sad departure as hopefully we'll be living somewhere even better, where I'll have a less gackily-shaped room that doesn't involve walking around crouched over in places. Oh, and somewhere where I can attatch a few posters on the wall would be nice.

Finally, I've started playing the guitar and writing once more! Hurrah! Well, whilst this may not be of any significance to you Dear Reader, it's something I've been meaning to do for ages. Since my old band broke up I really seem to have lost my way with music. However, I've decided to start writing songs again and try hard not to hit what I call 'The OK Computer Wall'. Basically, that train of thought works by listening to something really groundbreaking and then thinking, 'There's no way I could write anything like that, and if you can't better what's the point?'. A rather defeatest viewpoint I think you'll agree. Thus, the influences and frames of reference are staying firmly it what I know I can do well: R.E.M., Idlewild, and The Bluetones for now. Watch this space...

Rose-Tinted Theories

2006-06-28T19:31:00.000+01:00

"And like that, she was gone"

OK, so I realise that that quote was made in a different context (and actually about a male character) but it somehow seemed like a good choice. Yes, Dear Readers, as you're probably aware, we have just two weeks left with Rose Tyler in the TARDIS, and I for one shall miss her presence. I'll hold my hands up and admit that I was amongst the "What the hell are they doing casting her?" brigade when the news was announced, but it's always nice to be proved horribly wrong. And how Billie has done so. Whoever would've thought that two years down the line we'd be so fearful of her departure. I can pinpoint exactly the moment when I knew everything was going to be alright: The Unquiet Dead, scene where the Doctor and Rose are trapped in the basement and she turns to him and says "We go down fighting, yeah?". Brilliant. Anyways, goodbye Billie, all the best for the future and you'll be missed in the World of Who.

So in light of Rose's imminent departure, and as I know none of the spoilers, I thought I'd add my little thoughts as to what might happen to the character. They shall be classed under the headings 'The Obvious', 'The Gruesome' and 'What I'd Do'. That way you can evaluate what my responses and add your own comments.

The Obvious

The obvious way of handling things is that Rose sadly dies. Whether this be saving the Earth or in some horrible manner is open to interpretation, but it seems the fairly straightforward way to handle things. You see, this way it means that Rose can (theoretically, this is SF remember) never return and the Doctor can go back to his angsty, thoughtful self a la Series One. This time it'll be a bit more emotive though, as we'll all know why he feels that way and empathise with him. Those of us who remember the Old Days may well have felt it hard to empathise with the loss of the Time Lords, as they were corrupt, boring people and (Omega aside) weren't a great loss to the galaxy. However, the chance to see Tennant constantly calling up that sense of loss in the Doctor that Eccleston managed last year seems a tantilisng prospect, as I've really enjoyed those scenes where he feels responsible for someone's death (i.e. Scooti in The Impossible Planet).

The Gruesome

Rose becomes a Cyberman! A horrible way to go (and a slight cop-out seen as though they've already done that with Alternative Jackie in The Age of Steel) but what a great reaction shot that would make, the Doctor having to realise what has become of her! Of course, there's always the possibility that she doesn't become a Cyberman but instead becomes something else (not giving any spoilers away), but the basic premise that this essentially good-hearted character becomes something inherently evil is a nice idea.

What I'd Do

OK, wild theory time but what I'd do is this: it was mentioned in Love & Monsters (shudder) that Rose's file was in Torchwood somewhere under the heading of 'Bad Wolf' something. What if Rose were to be committed to scientific/medical research in some way? Imprisoned by Torchwood (don't forget, Captain Jack is on modern day Earth and it's plausable he could have told of the 'Bad Wolf' scenario) and unobtainable, the organisation plans to experiment on her to gain the secrets of the 'Bad Wolf'. We've already seen that Torchwood are a bit power mad and willing to kill to further the progress of Earth in The Christmas Invasion so I reckon that'd be a really cool thing to do. Imagine the final scene where the enemy is defeated, only for Yvonne and some guards to drag Rose off somewhere and leave the Doctor helpless! That'd be immense, and allow for the return of the character, perhaps even in some elevated version.

You see, I should be writing for the series...

So. Central Rain

2006-06-22T20:21:00.000+01:00

"I'm Sorry..." (R.E.M. 1984)

Slightly obscure title for this post Dear Readers, but given that the above lyric is the main hook from the song that gives this post its title, I felt it was adequate. Quite frankly, I feel as though I must apologise, and whilst this apology is for something that I had absolutely no control over, I know that for some of you this is your only encounter with the World of Who and so I must both celebrate and defend it.

OK, I'll stop being cryptic. In short, Love & Monsters was terrible. It was that cringeworthy that I almost turned it off after twenty minutes. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was childish and embarassing. Poorly executed, acted and handled. It made Timelash look like Citizen Kane (OK, some of you know I view Timelash in quite high reverence just because it's that bad, but you get the point...). However, this criticism is not because I didn't "get" the episode, as has been the accusation launched at some people who have shared the sentiment. I more than "get" what they were trying to do, and in fact thought that it sounded like a good idea. Why not take an average man who has encountered, and become fascinated with, The Doctor and see what the effect of this encounter would be? I mean, Boom Town last year asked a similar question about consequences, and I thought it made for a great understated and thought-provoking episode.

The key difference here was that Boom Town seemed to have thankfully learnt the lessons of 'Where the Slitheen Went Wrong'. Out went the silly comments, the fart jokes, and were instead replaced by some interesting and welcome characterisation. This, however, felt like a complete regression. The Scooby Doo sequence at the beginning was toe-curlingly bad. The character ending up on the Abzorbaloff's arse equally so. The lead performance of Marc Warren was just wet, meaning that you didn't care about him. Additionally, and disappointingly, RTD's writing was lazy. Last week we see Rose getting the troops together against the oncoming Ood, this week she can't remember what colour bucket to pick up. Unlikely? What's more, it's established that the group of characters were (relatively) clever. Surely one of them would have noticed the pattern that every time Victor Kennedy asked one of them to stay behind, they disappeared. It would've just taken someone to have gone "Hang on. There's something funny going on here" and it would've made more sense. Not "Oh, I've forgotten my phone!". That's what I mean by lazy writing.

However, there were two positives. Firstly, Shirley Henderson came out of it more than alive. It's a shame she ended up as a paving slab, as she was thoroughly great throughout. In fact, this was about the worst episode Billie has had in the two series, and as she's going (more on that later to the time) someone like Shirley would be a great replacement. Having said that, why not take a talking paving slab in the TARDIS? I mean, Tom wanted a talking cabbage. Secondly, there was a funny joke. I love the idea of the Slitheen's lenghtily-titled home planet having a twin with a one syllable name. That's the kind of ridiculous nonsense I like.

Shame the rest of it wasn't.

Cyber Control's Top 5 to try and blank out Love & Monsters:

Geneva - If You Have to Go
The Young Knives - She's Attracted To
Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars
R.E.M. - So. Central Rain
The Kooks - She Moves in Her Own Ways

Soldeed!

2006-06-19T22:26:00.000+01:00

All hail Graham Crowden! Surely one of the greatest, and funniest, supporting performances in the history of Who. He gets far too much bad press for his overacting in Horns of Nimon, and quite frankly it's unfair. It's hilarious, and given the level of immagination that went into other areas of the script (a security guard who just shouts "weakling scum" a lot! And as if the idea that people won't pick up it's based on the Greek story of the Minotaur isn't clearly signified by having the aliens look like Minotaurs, they decide to spell the name of all the characters in that story backwards!), I'm not surprised he got away with it. I mean, who came up with the idea of sacrificing three perfectly good cliffhanger endings (the revelation of The Nimon! Romana's abandonment! The immanent destruction of the TARDIS!) for that thrilling shot of ... Tom hugging K-9. For some reason Crowden's portrayal of Soldeed reminds me of what might happen if Chris Morris got involved with a story...

Sorry, dear readers. This post is piffle. I just had to update this site and couldn't think of anything else off the top of my head.

'Arthur Dent' Moments

2006-06-02T19:15:00.000+01:00

'Arthur Dent' Moments (n.)

Occasions when you are confronted with trying to understand those immediately around you (whether acquaintances or otherwise), but are unable to do so. Whether your incomprehension is due to your own lack of concentration, or the amount of alcohol consumed by members of the party, or other reasons, is irrelevant. However, you are left with the feeling(s) of a) complete bewilderment, and b) the overwhelming need for a cup of tea.

Usage: "I just didn't know what was going on, or what I was supposed to do. It was a real 'Arthur Dent' moment."

Beauty, Brilliance and Bitterness

2006-05-31T20:18:00.000+01:00

As a committed reader of TBM (and yes, we do have them) rightly noticed we have been doing a little programming recently! I realise that sounds rather technical and all, so I must admit it was nothing special; more a cut and paste job of some existing code, but it looks nice nonetheless. Anyways if you glance across to your right you'll see some rather cryptic links to sites that I personally find interesting and I hope you will too, Dear Readers. Right, on with discussion of the titular themes of this post...

Now, I'm fully aware that naming a record as 'beautiful' may well come across as slightly absurd, since it's not usually a word us humans attatch to inanimate objects. However, in this instance I'm going to keep the word as I think it describes perfectly a favourite record of mine that I've recently rediscovered: Crowded House's Together Alone. From the combination of pedal steel and acoustic guitars that begin album opener 'Kare Kare' (written about the beach that recording sessions for the album backed on to), through to the engaging, personal nature of closing track 'Together Alone' - complete with Aboriginal chant and tribal drums - its the kind of album that really draws you in and positions you as though your sat there with Neil and the guys as they take you on this wonderous journey of perfectly-written and pitched MOR rock. However, the associations of 'MOR' seemingly degrade this record, since Matchbox 20 this isn't. For starters, it's dark in places: 'Private Universe' and 'Walking on the Spot' dealing with the need to be alone and the break-up of a relationship respectively. And whilst 'Black and White Boy' allows the band to show off their rock credentials, 'Distant Sun' remains, in my opinion at least, one of the greatest songs written (NB: There's a funny story involving this song and myself from my Uni days. If anyone wants to know more then drop me an email).

Whilst the brilliance I mention above could be applied to the aforementioned record, it is instead reserved for discussion of Mark Gatiss' excellent contribution to Who on Saturday, The Idiot's Lantern. I've stuck my neck out a few times since its transmission and labelled it the best episode since they brought the whole programme back, and the reasons for this shall be explained momentarily. It was, however, without doubt the best episode since The Parting of the Ways. So what made it so good? Firstly, the story was expertly pitched, plotted and written. It felt as though it had crammed a lot, but not too much, in to its forty-five minutes. The main thread involving 'The Wire' (Maureen Lipman providing one of those pitch-perfect guest roles where they don't overplay it (a la Mr Lumic) and treat it seriously), an adversary perfectly suited to both the historical setting and the medium of television itself, was excellent since it not only involved both The Doctor and Rose, but allowed both of the characters to do what they do best, and allowed Tennant to do something more than act a bit smug for the whole episode. This was supported by the thread involving the break-up of a family home, exposing the darker side that runs beneath that idealised, nostalgic view of the 1950s remembered by films like Grease and such programmes as Coronation Street. Moreover, this thread allowed for a nice character moment from Rose at the end, telling the lad to go after his father. Additionally, Euros Lyn's direction was superb, accentuating the oppresive feel of the 'family' home. Oh, and nice links to The Ring and King Kong in solving the problems.

Finally, and I do realise this post has gone a bit, the bitterness I mention is in relation to Keane's rather fab new single, Is It Any Wonder? In short, I didn't realise they had it in them! On the evidence of their debut album, Hopes and Fears, and the appearance of the guys in interviews, they come across as the kind of band who are great at writing reflective ballads that ascend above the usual crop of their peers (Embrace, and The (dreadful) Feeling, for instance), but this newie shows us there's another dimension to them. Bit like when you listen to The Bends and realise Radiohead can one minute offer something as wondeful as 'Fake Plastic Trees', and then in the next breath snarl at you with the power of 'Just'. All in all an intriguing, and impressive, return.

Happy Birthday, Bronze Medal!

2006-05-25T14:30:00.000+01:00

OK, so this is a couple of days late, but it's time that we wished this haven of all things Indie, Tea and Time Lord its first happy birthday. Yes, Dear Readers, it was one year ago on Tuesday that The Bronze Medal took its first steps into the world with a post called 'An Unearthly Child'. At that point, I was unsure how long things would last but we've made it a year! We're now about 8th on Google if you search under the terms "Bronze Medal", "Idlewild" and "Cyber Control" (look, I was bored one night) and have reached that age when we can take our first steps in to the world, and begin rejecting our inheritance of Gormenghast (mental note: stop making jokes that only you, and about two other people, understand). Anyways, if you'd like to leave any wishes of good luck for the future of this glorious refuge from the world, they'll be much appreciated.

It seems only right that on our birthday, we take a look back at some of the things we've learnt over the past year. Firstly, it suddenly struck me yesterday that paying for black bin bags is actually just throwing money away. Why can't they be free? If you stop and think about it, it's probably the most pointless use of money ever! Also, something I strongly believe, and can account for from personal experience, is that call centres do not work, to either the people working in them or the people having to speak to someone within one. On the side of the worker (sounds a bit socialist, eh?!?), people don't like to be reduced to statistics. It may be wonderful to be able to pour out such statements as how many times you pressed delete over the past week and train you on typing, but it makes you feel as though you are constantly being watched. And that's what is happening. It's quite alarming to suddenly be asked one day why you disappeared for eight minutes the previous day, and somehow you feel a bit embarassed admiting you couldn't deal with it anymore. So in short, they don't just reduce you to a statistic but they invade on your privacy as well. One of the main things that distinguishes humans from the other wonderful species on this planet is our ability for compassion, understanding and tolerance. Unfortunaltely call centres erode this. Moreover, for the person calling, the fact you end up talking to someone who has just completed three weeks of intensive training means that no-one really knows what they're talking about. They're simply reading from a pre-prepared script that erodes individuality. Finally, due to the pressures placed on the people working inside them, you end up having to deal with people as quickly as possible, thus reducing all interaction to a transaction. Thus, look up 'dehumanising' in the dictionary and you should see 'call centres' listed there.

I've also become increasingly fascinated by the subject of time and temporal theory over the last year or so, to the extent that a friend remarks that I'm the only person they know who uses the phrase "space-time continuum" continually and in a serious manner. I just think it's such a fascinating thing though. To think that at any moment in the above-stated continuum you have the ability to mould that into what it is, the fact that this abstract thing can at times move so quickly and yet move so slowly at others, and that you're the only person experiencing time in that way at that moment. It's truly fascinating.

Personally though, its nice to be at this point in time. There are certainly some things to look forward to in the future, not least the fact that I appear to be reaching my career goal. Suppose I should make it public that for the next three years I'll be living in Cardiff, undertaking my PhD and teaching first-year undergraduates in my old department. That's actually quite scary when you stop and think about it as its one hell of a responsibility, but I'm quite happy to think I'm gonna have another three years in the Bute. In fact, a big cheesy grin has just come over my face.

Finally though, I want to thank everybody who reads this for reading it. Your support and enthusiasm is very much appreciated and keeps the thing going. Oh, and a very Happy Birthday to Mr. Edward Easton for the forthcoming weekend.

Cyber Control's Top 5 Records to Celebrate Our First Birthday:

The Young Knives - She's Attracted To
The Zutons - Pressure Point
People in Planes - Narcoleptic
Maximo Park - Going Missing
Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars

Capturing the Market

2006-05-19T20:21:00.000+01:00

The Rakes, Cardiff University Solus - 11/05/06

There is, to all intents and purposes, a golden rule to playing live: you open with an anthem, play another one mid-way through your main set, and finish it all with another. On tonight's evidence, The Rakes have learnt this golden rule, opening with the 90-second ode to status anxiety, 22 Grand Job, dropping anomie-toned, O.C.-featured, chant Retreat mid-way through and finishing it all off with the punk rock (and FIFA 2006-used) Strasbourg. This implies a key point about The Rakes though: how far they've come in the past twelve months. About this time last year they played to a mildly enthusiastic Barfly crowd as part of Xfm's (sadly failed) experiments with this fair city. Since then they've troubled the chart three times, and managed to whore themselves out to various student-friendly licencing opportunities. Not that this means they've sold-out. Oh no, The Rakes have grown into something more confident and popular, whilst maintaining that dirty, distorted energy that so many bands seem to leave behind in the equally dirty, grimy toilets of the indie club circuit.

Whilst The Rakes seem to anchor their set in 'classic gig' way, they seem to have (thankfully) ignored the usual consequence of 'classic gig' formula: that things have a tendency to drop between these high-points. This is because the band are relentless. Everything is played at breakneck speed, so that the crowd is constantly pogoing around for their lives, even to the more reflective tracks like Binary Love and We are all Animals and the new stuff that no-one really knows. And whilst those not at the front are furiously jumping around as their lives depended on it, those sandwiched into the railings at the front are doing their utmost to immitate Alan's trademark dance moves.

If you asked me to remember the set-list, I couldn't. It was that good that all of the songs seemed to bleed into each other, although I remember being pleased when they played (personal favourite) Violent. There also has to be a passing comment on the rather ace support from The Young Knives, apart from all I can remember about them now is that recent MTV2-friendly sngle Here Comes the Rumour Mill is just as good live as on record, and that the singer looks like Mark from Peep Show with longer hair.

So then, ladies and gentlemen, The Rakes have grown in stature and status and, on tonight's evidence at least, cornered the ears of the current batch of undergraduates around the country. If they could quickly write a song about the lecturer strike, they could well have a number one on their hands, but then again, they're a bit too cool for that. Even if I still maintain their guitarist looks like (the genial) Stan Cullimore from The Housemartins...

The Magic Number

2006-05-09T20:47:00.001+01:00

"No more. No less. It's the magic number"

What number am I talking of, dear reader? Why, that'd be three of course! Immortalised as having magic powers by De La Soul (and, I think, some form of hippy band in the 60s or 70s before that), influential in the naming of this website, and now the number of BAFTA awards the Good Time Lord picked up at the weekend. I'm ecstatic, quite frankly! Over a year ago, before Rose was transmitted, and I was a nervous mix of hope and fear for it all, I said that what I really wanted was for us to get recognised in some form, and if that could be a BAFTA that'd be ace. There it was, a silly pipe dream that I thought was never possible. Now, twelve months down the line, we didn't just get one! Oh no, we got three of the things: one from the industry for being ace, one from the viewers for being ace, and one for having the best writer in television attatched as Executive Producer (my close pal RTD, I doubt he remembers me, but he probably remembers the hat). So there we have it! Industry and viewers on our side! Enjoy it whilst it lasts, as I'm sure that somewhere someone is viewing it as further evidence of the debasement of culture (a sci-fi show, the best thing on television? But where is the single play? I can hear them now...) and sharpening up the knives for some form of backlash. However, for now at least, the offices of BBC Wales have something that designates Who as the bestest thing on telly, and it makes me proud.

Dunno if I'm going to get the chance to write again before Saturday, so if I don't just a quick note that the Cybermen are back this weekend! Apart from the fact their not from Mondas! Nor are they from Telos! They're from an 'alternate Earth', and they're the devious creation of Trigger from Only Fools and Horses! Who sits in a wheelchair! No, in all seriousness I'm glad they've turned their back on the whole backstory/continuity thing, or else we'd have ended up with something akin to Attack: all geeky sub-references that only mean anything to those three people in the audience who were/are that bothered about the history of the Cyber Race. Quite frankly, all you need to know is that they're big, they're metal, they're very rational and they basically take the idea of replacing malfunctioning human organs with replacements to the extreme. Oh and they should utter the immortal phrase of "Yes, Leader".

Aside from that, little to report of any consequence at the moment. Just plodding along with life and writing things, clutching the new Snow Patrol quite closely as it's very good. A bit floaty in places, but a real grower that contains four or five set piece songs that deserve to be heard.

Cyber Control's Top 5 to Take Your Mind Off the Return of the Cybermen:

Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars
Panic! At the Disco - The Only Difference Between Suicide and Martyrdom is Press Coverage
Snow Patrol - Make This Go On Forever
Idlewild - Satan Polaroid
Snow Patrol & Martha Wainwright - Set the Fire to the Third Bar

Patrolling the Airwaves

2006-05-04T20:47:00.000+01:00

Snow Patrol, Cardiff University Great Hall - 03/05/06

Not so many years ago Coldplay seemed to corner the market in indie balladeering, and grew to become one of the biggest bands in the world. Now with the welcome news (last album notwithstanding) that Mr. Martin is taking his over-infalted ego off somewhere for a few years, if there's any justice in this world Snow Patrol should amicably fill that gap in the market. They've made one hell of a new album in Eyes Open and in singer Gary Lightbody they have someone to match Martin in morals but completely overshadow him in that important area of personality. He jumps on to the stage with such an enthusiasm and energy before even playing a song that its hard not to get behind him, and he's down to earth. This band have had to work hard to get here and so appear genuinely grateful for their chance, something Gary makes clear tonight before launching in to the wonderful An Olive Grove Facing the Sea (also known as the kind of heartbreaking ballad they've always written but didn't get the promotion at the time).

Tonight's show is perfectly pitched between Snow Patrol's two successful albums: 2003's Final Straw and newie. They mix up the two at will so that a favourite is always around the corner, and this is seen in the opening few exchanges, as Chocloate and Spitting Games are played energetically at the beginning of the set to get the crowd firmly on their side. After that, it's a nice mix of the familiar and not-so familiar, with new tracks Hands Open and Shut Your Eyes sounding like they'll occupy iPod's for the next few months. The obvious highlight of the new stuff though has to be the beautiful Chasing Cars. If Colin Murray reviewed Run as 'the kind of music that children should be concieved to', then surely Chasing Cars goes one better. Its quite possibly the most simple, honest love song this genre has produced, certainly in the last few years. Elsewhere How to Be Dead remains a firm crowd pleaser, and new track Make This Go On Forever adds an interesting, piano-led change to proceedings.

They could have left it with just the main set and it would have been amazing, finishing as they did with the aforementioned Run and current Top 10 troubling anthem You're All I Have (possibly the best end to a set that's come from the current outcrop of young, Indie bands?), but a touching Open Your Eyes and a hectic Tiny Little Fractures meant that the crowd went home with both their eyes, and their hearts, open to the new kings of all things introspective and emotional. A warm welcome back.

New New Bronze Medal

2006-05-01T20:43:00.000+01:00

And so we return!

Hello once more, Dear Readers! Fear not, we are still in residence here, just that things have been rather hectic what with the amount of work that has not decreased since the last time we met. I wouldn't mind if I'd done absolutely nothing, but I've worked and worked and worked on things and seem to be getting nowhere. It's just NOT coming together, and thats annoying! It seems either I'm really not getting things, or I'm making things far too hard for myself, or a mixture of both! Eitherways its not particularly good.

I expect you're all dying to hear my opinions on the New Who (or should that be the New New Who?!?), and I hope the following comments on New Earth will provide an introduction. I was planning a big review of each episode, with full analysis and such, but at the minute I haven't got the time or energy to do so. So I duly apologise for that, and can only offer to improve as time progresses onwards. In summary though, I have been exceptionally impressed with all three episodes so far: Tennant and Billie are firing on all cylinders, the stories are fantastic and more ambitious than last year. I can only speculate about how far the series will go because, as we know from last year, they just got bigger and bigger as the season went on! The special effects have been great by and large, a few of the more ambitous effects still look a little unbelievable, but it's still the most unique thing on TV in my opinion. Let's just hope it gets that BAFTA when the time comes...

There are things I wanna talk about, as they may help me calm down and take them in, but I can't at the moment as I don't wanna tempt fate and blow them. Suffice to say that they're the reason why I seem a strange mixture of happiness and nervous adrenalin at the moment though.

New Earth

An ambitous, well-realised, if rather busy beginning to the new series. In short, they tried to do too much in the one episode. What with the hospital itself, Cassandra, the Plague Carriers, the Face of Boe and the Cat Nurses there was just a little too much going on, and it was only after the second viewing that I managed to take it all in. The problem was that a lot of the main narrative thread - the horror of the Plague Carriers and their subsequent release - was lost as it came too late on and wasn't fully realised. Not that it was badly directed, quite the contrary, just came and went too quickly.

The humour was there though! I couldn't stop laughing at the ongoing joke about the shop! And I liked the bits with the lift and disinfectant as well. The constant swapping of Cassandra into various bodies got a little tedious after some initial funny exchanges (I'm thinking of when she first transferred into The Doctor's body especially), but was, in the end, essential to her realising what had to be done. The Face of Boe stuff was 'text-book enigmatic', and sets things up nicely for their next encounter. All in all a solid, if busy, start to the season, and a great place to lift off from!

I've Started Something I Can't Possibly Finish

2006-04-04T20:43:00.000+01:00

In homage to Morrissey, as he does seem to be everywhere on the (decent) music channels at the moment due to his really rather good new single, I thought I'd name this post. It does, however, sum up the way I feel at the moment. I decided to write one long essay for one of my current modules, electing to do 5000 words comparing two contemporary novel-to-television adaptations, and putting my own spin on the question by using Gormenghast and some hideous BBC (yes, dear reader, those two terms don't sit easily together in my head either) adaptation of Doyle's The Lost World. However, the problem is I really don't know where to start with it, and I'm putting my self under a lot of pressure to get it done as I've still got 3000 words on an essay that I've neither decided on, nor have much interest in, as the titles are a little dull. That's probably why I'm undecided about it come to think of it.

Anyway, I digress. The problem I seem to have got myself in is that I've got so much to write about, and so much I feel I should write about, I really don't know where to start. The only thing I'm sure of is that I need to start writing. However, paradoxically, I don't want to start writing as it's only going to confirm in me that I really don't know what my angle is yet. To make matters worse, I decided today that I should probably read the source books as well, meaning that I splashed out fifteen quid on the entire Gormenghast trilogy and have therefore created more work for myself. You see, dear reader, neurosis and fear of failure are not easy things to live with.

I'm also getting far too excited about both the launch of the new series of Who (on the 15th of this month, more on that next time) as well as my return to Devon next week for an old friend's birthday. In short, the time that I had clear to do some writing has become full with too many thoughts buzzing around my head. I hate this. I wish I could concentrate on the things that I should rather than the silliness in my head.

Worrying

2006-03-26T23:41:00.000+01:00

A girl just came up to me after the Pub Quiz and said that they thought I looked like Chris Martin. Whilst this is better than the usual lookalike comparisons I get (Noel Edmunds, Rolf Harris), its worrying that this is the second time in two months I have been likened to Chris Martin, a man who twelve months again I viewed as an absolute arse...

We all become our parents, or those who we define ourselves against???

Other People's Houses

2006-03-25T22:10:00.000Z

A strange thought came over me on the train back from Reading yesterday, and the more I've thought about it, the more it seems to be a very valid question: why do you always think that other people's houses are much nicer and better than your own? For example, when I visited Anna in Oxford, I thought her place was open and spacious, but had a more homely feel to it than our place. It had a much nicer bathroom, and a kitchen space that didn't look like the last part had been stapled on to it. In short, it was cosy and welcoming and not like some form of student place. Then, I visit Darren and Stacey in Reading, and it turns out that I'm also in admiration of their place! Sure, its a ground floor flat, but the rooms are about the size that you'd need of them for two people. It's warm, and the kitchen is big enough so that people won't fall over each other. Plus, why do other people's showers actually have some pressure to them, whereas your own is pathetic in comparison. I then followed this thought through some more and came to realise that I used to think the same thing about people's houses at Uni. For example, Chris, Darren and Beth's place always seemed more contemporary and inviting than the dark corners of Wyeverne Road. Ditto that for Jo's place, and Janine's. More strangely, Chris actually used to admit that he preferred our place at Uni to his. Bizarre! So there we are, dear readers. Great Mystery of the World #251: Why Do You Always Think Other People's Houses are Better Than Your Own?

On a different note, I recieved a bittersweet piece of information today. One of my old housemates, Yash, has been offered a job working on Wall Street in New York and will be leaving in three weeks. Naturally, I'm thrilled for the guy. He deserves it after holding out for the right type of job, and I wish him 100% success for the future. I mean, come on! New York! How ace would that be? It'll just be a shame we won't be able to see him that often, and we'll miss his easy-going, laid back humour in forthcoming get togethers. We'll miss you buddy, but just make sure you have one hell of a good time!

Cyber Control's Favoured Five to Swing Your Pants To:

I Write Sins Not Tragedies - Panic! At the Disco
Heart in a Cage - The Strokes
Stumble and Fall - Razorlight
Munich - Editors
Sussudio - Phil Collins

Retracted Statement

2006-03-20T14:11:00.000Z

In response to last nite's post, I would like to make one thing very clear: I am not a poet. No matter how hard I try, I am neither Roddy Woomble, nor Michael Stipe. Neither am I Julian Casablancas or Thom Yorke, although I do try and immitate the former of the last two in clothing. No, I am just a guy that has too much on a Sunday evening and starts scribbling ideas on the back of a piece of paper at a pub quiz, who once dreamed of fronting a band only to be denied this due to being unable to sing in tune.

However, because of this I thought I'd share with you some of my favourite song lyrics:

"Don't you think that maybe I should calm down?
I'm sick of staring at these walls, I'm gonna kick them down"
(The Seahorses, 1997)

"You broke my soul, dear
You stole the plot. You left an empty shot.
Well, there's nothing left here
As you took the lot.
An empty cage is all I got"
(Travis, 2001)

"Apathy is happy now, it won without a fight"
(The Housemartins, 1986)

"Gentleman, mark your opponents
Fire in to your own ranks.
Pick the weakest, a strategic move,
Square off to meet your enemy"
(R.E.M., 1998)

That's just a taste, I'll put some more on next time.

City of Knowledge

2006-03-12T21:38:00.000Z

Dear Reader, I apologise for there being no Bronze Medal for a long time, but in all honesty things have been exceptionally hectic. I always knew March was going to be this way, a ndthings should calm down as of now. I've been filling in my PhD application recently and that's now almost done. Muchos Gracious is, once more, needed for the Man Much Greater Than I, but then again I should've known that would've been so in the first place. Anyways, I've been on my travels! It's hardly 'The Bronze Medal On Tour', but visiting Oxford has opened my eyes to the wonders of other places in Britain aside from Cardiff.

I went there to visit my good friend Anna, someone who I've grown very close to over the last few years and who I will always be eternally grateful to for the way she managed to get me to do some work towards the end of my A Levels. Following that logic, if it wasn't for her I may not be where I am at present, and hopefully from that you may realise why I always make sure I'm there to return the favour. Anyways, it was great to see her, and see the Radiohead Fan Guide to Oxford. It's the kind of tour/pilgrimage that only fans ever indulge in, taking in such exciting places as 'The Street Where They All Lived Together', 'The Park Where They Played a Really Big Gig', and 'The Restaurant Where Ed Used to Work'. Having said that, said restaurant did the best Cream Tea I've ever experienced. Seriously Dear Reader, if you're ever in Oxford, look out Brown's Restaurant and have a Cream Tea. If you're disappointed, let me know.

Oxford as a place rocks immensely. Its a place that's so beautifully designed it's hard to ignore. It's clean. It's got a wonderfully diverse array of independent coffee shops and book stores that sell things at cheap prices because they realise that everyone there wants to read and eat good cake. The buses work, and they don't cost a bomb to go ten minutes up or down the road. The people there are polite and friendly. The restaurants are good value for money, and the beer isn't too badly priced either.

The worst part was leaving. I always think it's good to leave visiting friends with a sense of melancholy as it means that although you've enjoyed yourself, you'd do a lot to have an extra half-hour in their company. You start thinking about the next time you may see that person, and make the effort to go back there. The ironic thing was that as the train pulled away from the station my iPod started with The Hollies and 'He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother' which, aside from the gender issues, sums up my relationship with Anna.

I'm sorry if that all sounds a little gushy, but it's testament to how much of a good trip I had. I even tried to fix someone's computer (and, yes, failed), and got described as "sensible" and "nice". I usually don't like those words, but I'm really starting recognise their value in life. I suppose it depends who speaks them really.

An Absolute Moron

2006-02-23T19:58:00.000Z

The following is what is commonly know as a polemic; an opportunity for my spleen to be vented, and a small portion of academic bile directed towards one Nicholas J. Cull, who has written perhaps one of the most small-minded, arrogant, and misguided piece's I have ever had the (mis)pleasure of reading. His central argument is that the whole evolution of Who is, in fact, due to the influence of American cultural (and other) pressures. This, I feel, is the most short-sighted piece of crap I have ever read, from a man who, I doubt, has seen any of the series, let alone actually studied any of the criticism or history of the programme. I would like to tear apart a few of the points he makes here. However, what follows is just a short attack on what is, in whole, a terrible argument.

1. He basically argues that the Doctor, is an embodiment of British values, and that this has to be seen in light of the increasing dominance of America as a superpower, and the decline of Britain on the global stage. Thus, the only way that Britian could come to terms with this is by having someone who tried to assert their brains over using braun.

Reply 1: OH MY GOD! Does this guy not understand that the whole point of the Doctor is that he's a character of superior interlect who comes from another planet? That he is supposed to embody the liberal position of tolerance and pacifism, and that his whole role is about assisting people and deciding what is for the greater good? This could be written as a school boy error, but the fact that he a) goes on to assert what a great character James T. Kirk is in comparison, by appealing to literary predecessors, and b) this is written by a yank, just going to show that that nation has little understanding of 'tolerance' contemporarily, is unforgivable.

2. "The second Doctor (Patrick Troughton) was not as popular as the first. Audiences detected 'stale and predictable plots'."

Reply 2: Just completely flabbergasted by this one. Firstly if Troughton was so unpopular, why does he always usually come out near the top of 'Favourite Doctor' poles? Why is he so fondly remembered as the 'Cosmic Hobo', who had a childlike innocence? As for the plots issue, this guy has obviously never heard of The Evil of the Daleks, The Enemy of the World, The Web of Fear, The Macra Terror, or Fury from the Deep. A diverse range of plots there, some developing the now classic 'base under siege' thread, some just being different completely.

3. (And this is the best one. About Star Trek: TNG): "The show had all Doctor Who's eclecticism and humour and effects were light years away from anything the BBC could produce alone".

Reply 3: Honestly, and I can feel the rage growing in me now, has this guy even seen any TNG? It's the most po-faced, boring, stuffy load of crap ever made! Humour? There's more sodding humour in a funeral, and I've just been to one. Eclecticism? What that'll be the return of the bleeding Klingons will it? Or would that be the fact that they had to nick the Cybermen to create the Borg? The only thing eclectic about it was that it had Whoopi sodding Goldberg as the barman!

I could go on, but there are some things in there that are just laughable. Congratulations, Nicholas J. Cull. You are an ABSOLUTE MORON.

Feeling Strangely Fine

2006-02-12T20:50:00.000Z

I feel rather strange writing to you from where I am now for a number of reasons. Firstly, I should be at the pub quiz, but due to circumstances outside of my control that's been cancelled. The more frustrating thing is I spent a good hour yesterday afternoon compiling a list of witty team names. Yes, I was that bored but there's always problems deciding on what to call ourselves and so I thought I'd make a pre-emptive strike. My personal favourite was 'Handbags for House Plants' but there were a few other gems as well.

Secondly, I feel strange writing here at the minute as (gasp) I've done all of my work for the weekend! I've finished an essay, done a pointless PowerPoint presentation and done my seminar preperation, all with Sunday afternoon to spare. Thirdly, I went to a very strange place last night for a few drinks. It went by the name of 'Tiger Tiger', but I can think of a better word to replace the aforementioned animal with (Crap? Or maybe something a little stronger?). The place was a hodge-potch of various styles inported from Ikea, stretched across three floors, with the kind of service you'd expect in a KFC but not in some 'classy' bar. I was stood at the bar once for about ten minutes whilst some chap tried to remember how to make a cocktail, whilst at another it took about the same amount of time to get one bottle of Bud. Bejesus! It still doesn't beat Sugar as the worst place in Cardiff, nor does it beat Enigma in Newton Abbot as the definition of Hell, but it's pretty crap and over-priced. Well, at least they played a little bit of Lionel at one point. I say a little as it was one of those annoying places that only ever plays half a song.

Alright moan over, so what else we got? Not a lot really! Life seems to be moving at a pace quicker than I care to realise, and I'm not sure whether that's because I've become lost in what I'm studying, whether I'm just blissfully unaware of anything that's happening, or maybe just somewhere between the two. It's something that I've gotten used to though, a general feeling of being a little lost. It's kind of though you're stood completely still on a street whilst everyone and everything rushes past you and you try to calm them down. Much like the experience of being in Bristol Temple Meads at 8:15 in the morning.

To the Faithful Departed

2006-01-26T20:05:00.000Z

From the silence comes noise.

Yes, Dear Reader, normal service has been resumed here. I apologise for the slight delay in proceedings but there's been a death in the family and I was needed elsewhere. The only thing that the last few days has served to tell me is things I already knew: that I hate funerals, that the worst thing about death is the people who get left behind, and that I don't deal particularly well with the news of Death's presence. Instead, I just seem to blank it out as much as possible until I'm faced with the actuality of the situation, and then it all comes out. All of which seems quite strange for me, since throughout my teenage years and beyond I've prided myself in writing songs that often mentioned the subejct in some form of back-handed metaphor. Perhaps the concept I think of is different from the reality of the situation? That's quite a good way to sum up my whole outlook on reality really; why bother dealing with the harshness of the real world when there are worlds of imagination that are far more interesting?

Anyways, I've been told by my folks to stop worrying, as it does no good for anyone, but I just can't escape this horrible, knawing feeling in my stomach when I think about my Gran's situation. No-one should have to be left on their own, especially during the twilight of their life. It just makes you fear the worst, that's all. What's that statement RTD once quoted with regards to narrative? "The Queen dies, then the King dies of a broken heart"? Perhaps I just need to keep repeating "Life isn't Who" in my head many times.

Talking of 'life', it was to my utmost horror that a member of one of the worst bands around (The Ordinary Boys) has turned up in the loser-hell of Celebrity Big Brother. To all those who think he's ultra-smart and all, he wrote and released an oh-so witty track last year called 'Life Will Be the Death of Me'. Ten out of ten for passing your Year 12 English exam with that one...

The Top 5 Most Played Songs on my iPod:

1. Foreigner - I Want to Know What Love Is
2. The Killers - Mr. Brightside
3. Maximo Park - Going Missing
4. Disarm - Smashing Pumpkins
5. Que Onda Guero -Beck

TV Times Circa 1970-Something

2006-01-12T21:27:00.000Z

So then, after all that Lost petered out with more of a whimper than a bang if you ask me. I mean, how obvious was it that they'd open the hatch and then it'd end? Add in some over-sentimental recap footage over who was on the plane and it was all just a little disappointing. It was, to me, as though it had been written as two catch-up episodes for anyone who'd missed most of the series and wanted to know what was going on. I suppose that's the problems of commercial television: having to make sure that your series is always open to new viewers.

It seems to be a time for new tv at the moment. However, I'm not sure if I'm following it all correctly; I completely missed the point of Life on Mars by the sounds of things, and have also lost my excuse for watching The O.C. by not being able to shout 'Jim' at the guy who played Jim Robinson from Neighbours for an hour. It seems I'm gonna either a) have to stop watching it, or b) admit that my only reason for watching it really was the rather lovely Rachel Bilson. Then again, is there anything wrong with that? I mean the show is crap. I used to like Dawson's Creek, and I genuinely admit to that. There was something cool about all that angst and cod-philosophising. Then again, I could watch DC again now and think it's crap. Yet, in all honesty, The O.C. has neither angst nor philosophy. It just has a very hot girl and a guy who talks in an ironic manner about Star Wars.

Why has telly become so full of reality tv and rubbish so nearly in the New Year? I mean, MTV2 has even shifted Gonzo so I can't keep up with what's new. How am I supposed to keep up with all that's new and indie if there's no show on? Having said that, if the only 'decent' stuff around at the minute is that god-awful Arctic Monkey's track, then I don't really wanna know. I'll go back to something else I think... Right then, Pyramids of Mars and some old Toto CDs it is. Unless anyone else can think of something else?

"Friday Nights have been lonely. Change your plans and then phone me"

So... That'll be Christmas Eve, then!

2006-01-08T21:41:00.000Z

Just a short note to say this is the antics of what happens on a Christmas Eve in Newton Abbot. It perhaps doesn't capture the true spirit of the events but it'll hopefully serve as a good reminder of the times we had. It's just a shame they only seem to occur once a year. Nevermind, better once than never I suppose...

Brand New Start

2006-01-04T20:42:00.000Z

It's such a tired old cliche isn't it, that old "New Year, new start" nonsense? In this case however, I'm glad to see the back of 2005 what with the sorry state that my family managed to get itself into over the past twelve months. As a result, I've decided to draw a line underneath all that's gone before and try and start over this year. Already I've managed to bump into someone who I haven't seen for about a year and am gonna try my hardest not to get depressed over the sense of failure that hung over my thoughts towards my Masters that developed over the last few weeks.

Unfortunately, the lists that I promised on the last post never appeared due to the fact that I got sidelined in Devon for longer than expected. In short, the bolier breaking down (again) at home, combined with the thought of a couple of friends spending New Year alone, and a rather nasty head cold all combined to mean I took an extended leave of absense. However, a big thanks has to go out to everyone I saw whilst back, as it was an unexpected laugh. Just one note to casual readers: don't go anywhere near the Ten Tors in Kingsteignton expecting any New Year hospitality, since the greeting you'll recieve will be less than pleasent. Alright, it was about four in the morning but if lights are on and the doors are open, you have to assume they're still open! Even more so if there are still people in there drinking. Anyways, the promised lists are provided at the bottom just minus all of the explanations why.

So, we have the second series in the pipeline and what with the brilliant TCI under our belts, as well as the series garnering the 2005 TV Moment of the Year, that's something to look forward to. Oh, and of course we have the return of my good friends from Mondas. Or will that be Telos? I suppose it all depends what angle, and how much continuity, they're gonna get bogged down with. For those not in the know they originally came from Earth's twin planet, Mondas. Oh, and the wierd Elizabethan looking episode looked cool, just unsure if that was Tooth and Claw or Girl in the Fireplace. The only disappointing thing is the lack of new indie acts that seem to be tipped for the year; aside from Editors re-releasing 'Munich' there really isn't that much about. Ah well, just have to wait then!

The Bronze Medal's Films of the Year:

5. Serenity
4. The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
3. 5 x 2
2. King Kong
1. The Descent

The Bronze Medal's Albums of the Year:

5. Editors - The Back Room
4. Beck - Guero
3. Maximo Park - A Certain Trigger
2. Coldplay - X&Y
1. Idlewild - Warnings/Promises

I'm sorry George, I wanted to include you but it just wasn't good enough. I mean, come on! As if the first words uttered by the most evil man in the Universe were the equivalent of "Where is my wife" ?!?

Lists

2005-12-20T15:29:00.000Z

Well, its that time of year again. When everybody feels the overwhelming desire to return to their place of origin because some kid was born in a barn about 2000 years ago, or so that particular story goes. I suppose what I'm trying to say is that as of tomorrow I return back to Hell/Rockville/Devon for the Festive period, and so won't be able to communicate with all you people for the next few days. So in a method of trying to console yourselves, I've decided to go with all the magazines and provide a list of The Bronze Medal's Top 5 Singles of the Year. The way this should work will be that you get these now, and then I'll have made up my mind about movies and albums by the time I return home.

Anyways, I'd just like to take this opportunity to thank all the readers for, err, reading, and I'd also like to take this opportunity to wish you all a very Happy Christmas. Alternately, if you belong to a different social group that isn't Christian, just enjoy the period. I myself, am looking forward to having some time with my folks, and getting good and drunk with my esteemed colleagues, Savage McCee and the Kingsteignton Three. Who knows, maybe we'll go one better than last year and actually get ourselves arrested!

Before we get started, tracks that narrowly missed out but deserve a mention include 'Blood' and 'Bullets' by Editors, 'So Here We Are' by Bloc Party and 'Oh My God' by Kaiser Chiefs. Oh, and yes, 'Somebody Told Me' came out this year, but it also did last year. So I'm treating it as a re-release and therefore inelidgable. Anyways, on with the list...

5. Amerie - One Thing

OK, bit of a contraversial start to things given the Indie-friendly nature of the musical opinion usually expressed here, but this was a damn fine pop song. Up there with something like Girls Aloud's 'Love Machine' in it's sheer 'wanting you to move your feet'-ness, its a well produced, catchy little number that lodged its place in your head and refused to let go. For once though, it was a track that you actually didn't mind being there.

4. Fix You - Coldplay

Sometimes songs are written and they accrue the status of classic straight away. This has to be one such example. Perhaps it pulls at the heartstrings in a rather cliched way, but it entered into my life at a time when I needed a track such as this. When that guitar part and the drums crash in, it turns up the euphoria levels far beyond anything they've ever done before, only to bring things down again for the intimate finish the song deserves. All that, and it's Coldplay. A band who, prior to this year, were synonomous with simplistic, unambitious boredom in my opinion. You see, things can change...

3. 22 Grand Job - The Rakes

A song, and a band, that seem to completely divide opinion amongst many of the people I know. It seems you either love or hate this lot. However, I don't think anyone has managed to capture the whiney, pathetic nature of status anxiety in such an exact way. Worried about the lighting in your office? Or the amount you earn in relation to your level of participation? Or the fact that your shift starts earlier than anyone else? If the answer to any of these is 'yes' then just have a listen, and within 90 seconds I hope you'll have learnt a few things about yourself. Top.

2. Wires - Athlete

It seems as though beautiful ballads seem to come along once a year. 2004 brought us the soaring beauty of Snow Patrol's 'Run', which was matched equally, and unexpectedly, by this offering from Athlete. Written about the premature birth of singer Conrad's daughter, it's the kind of song that anyone who's had the displeasure of frequenting themselves with hospitals can relate to. More than that though, it's a song of hope and optimism. In a time when these can be small, it subsequently deserves applause. All we need is the highlights of Season Two of Who put to this next year and its status shall be complete.

1. Apply Some Pressure - Maximo Park

In all honesty, it was hard not to put 'Going Missing' and 'Graffiti' in this list, but in limiting yourself to one track per artist some differentiation had to be made, and this absolute gem became the weapon of choice. Spiky, energetic, and containing the kind of spontaneous end to a song that makes you want to hit repeat on your CD player, it managed to combine a great guitar riff with some intriguing, carnival-esque keyboard. However, it was much more than that: starting by managing to map out the kind of random thoughts that run through my head twenty-four hours a day, it eventually built in to a chugging, harmonic exploration of loss and despair, before exploding in to that final, killer flurry. Triumphant without a doubt.

The Best

2005-12-14T19:53:00.000Z

(Left to Right: Head of Wood, Cyber Control, Colonel K, Lady Elizabeth, "Hot" Rod Chrisway)

(Left to Right: Captain Yash, Major Tom)

(The D.A.Z. - Looking a little camp)

"Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat. Where have you been?"

Right, first of all, I'm not a cat, but in answer to your question I've been all over the shop. Both mentally and physically. First of all, there was a birthday for Yours Truly. Unfortunately it came just at one of those moments when your base falters a little and you have a shift in confidence. I'm still feeling bad about getting drunk and having a good old whinge about Life, the Universe and Everything. I don't like myself when I get like that, and I feel especially bad when it happens around the people that I value the most and yet haven't seen for bloody ages. Nonetheless, it was amazing to see everyone again, and I strongly hope we can all get together more often than we do. Just a shame that everyone ended up feeling lousy on the Sunday and the boiler broke down. Mental note to self though, after having fulfilled one of life's ambitions and slept in a bath, I wouldn't recommend it again. It's like sleeping in a slightly moist coffin.

Aside from that I've been to Londondinium to watch The Rakes, who were very good, and Editors, who were the most exciting live band I've seen in a long time. This all coincided with seeing Franz Ferdinand as well, who were pretty good if you like that sort of thing. Then I got fed up of living in a cold house, and so went back to see the Folks for a weekend, which was a nice way to let off a bit of steam and talk a few things over. Me, talking to my folks! I never thought that day would come. If you add in the numerous trips between here and Bristol I've been making, it could be said that I'm currently a well travelled man. All that and the great news that an old friend is moving back this way in the New Year! It must be the lure of seeing David Tennant in the flesh. Still, reasons to be cheerful!

Finally though, a big thanks to everyone that was present on the weekend of the 26/11. Without a doubt, those were the winning days....

On Having Nothing Much to Say

2005-11-22T20:45:00.000Z

"People when they change their minds, it's a tell-tale sign
That they don't know what to talk about" (The Bluetones, 1996)

I'm writing this as I've been prompted by a fan (yes, we do have one) to write an update. However, the problem is I've really got very little to report about. You can interpret that in two ways: either I've got into tunnel vision in respect to writing about public service broadcasting and so can't think about anything, or, my life is that dull that the only thing I can think about is public service broadcasting. Focused or dull? The choice is yours, dear reader. Obviously I'd prefer if you sided with the former, as no-one likes having their worst fears confirmed.

I should, however, have lots to comment on. Firstly, there was the special Who for CiN, which was pretty good. Now some fans have reservations over extended TARDIS scenes - personally speaking I don't know why - but that's fandom for you. Anyways, despite being a bit underwhelmed after first viewing (there were a couple of really bad cuts within the editing), further viewings changed my opinion: I thought Billie was ace (as per usual) and Tennant was equally as good. It was good to see that he's still got the same intensity that Eccleston brought to the role (i.e. the scene when he was explaining to Rose about the first time they met) but I think he'll do the quirky humour a bit differently, perhaps more in the style of Tom. That, however, is in no way a slur against Chris though. I've been a fan ever since Shallow Grave of the man's talents and will miss him not occupying the role.

Secondly, I went to the switching on of the Christmas lights in Cardiff last week, with Tennant and Billie. It was a pretty good time really. Cold, and there were loads of screaming kids running around the place, but aside from that it was good. Learnt some interesting things about the forthcoming series (sinister Christmas Trees, werewolves) and the company was good, as were the fireworks actually.

Hmm, this seems wierd writing when there's nothing to write about. Instead it just turns into an extended version of those diaries you always had to write on a Monday morning at primary school. I've not even got anything profound to talk about, nor are there any tracks I feel the need to promote. I was in a shop the other day that was dreadful, but I stayed in there for a while as they were playing Maximo Park. Not really that exciting is it?

"Time moves on, but all along, we've always known
It's never going nowhere" (The Bluetones, 2003)

Square One

2005-11-12T20:21:00.000Z

What a strange day. I awoke this morning feeling quite melancholic, and that feeling hung around for most of the morning and some of the afternoon. The afternoon was plagued with disappointment: my mission Dalek-hunting was pitiful, and I left the city centre with my reasons for not visiting the place on a Saturday reaffirmed. Why do people stand still in shops, blocking any public right-of-way, for the sake of a chat? That's the point of the phrase 'Do you want to go for a coffee'. Moreover, why can't people walk according to set co-ordinates? That is, why can't they walk in a straight line, or a line that takes in to account that there's someone either walking behind/in front of them? And then there's kids, who have the directional sense of Dizzy, Dizzy Dinosaur.

Sorry, dear reader, I'm having a moan. I just sometimes get a little fed-up with the way that humanity has little attention to the fact that there are more people on the planet than just themselves. It doesn't take much to consider the feelings of another person, and that just the odd choice of word here, or delivery of that word there, might change the whole course of the recipient's day for one reason or another. Having said that, and speaking subjectively, if you spend too much time thinking about the possible repercussion of your actions you often end up doing nothing, as you don't want to offend. That's what makes things even worse when you decide to act and get nothing in return: it reaffirms a belief that you should probably just keep such things to yourself because, in the grand scheme of things, you don't really matter that much.

Gah, self-pity! It's not the most attractive character traits. Perhaps I'll just take Coldplay's X&Y and listen to that for a little while. After all, I'm stuck in square one. The strange thing is all this subsided once Exeter had returned back to the top of the Conference, and after a suprisingly engaging England friendly. Seems that temporary fixes can account for nothing against a general feeling of confusion and being a little bit lost.

DWM reports (proudly for some reason) that the Best of Billie has gone Gold already. There's a reason for this dear reader: its been on sale in HMV for a fiver, and I bet somewhere people are buying it for Who fans nationwide as a 'joke' Christmas present, much in the way you always get a pair of Darth Vader socks or the equivalent. Ah, consumerism: "I am defined by the media I consume, and consumed by the media of which I am defined."

You can quote me on that one if you like.

The End of One Quest, the Start of Another...

2005-11-09T21:37:00.000Z

Someone of great historical importance once remarked that it's a strange world out there; on recent evidence I'd agree with that. Today, I sat for an hour in a lecture that had absolutely no relevance to me whatsoever, but it did inspire me to thinking about the kind of film I would make if I had to make a film for my dissertation. More on that later. After a brief, and pleasent, conversation with a Lady with Immensley Cool Shoes, I proceeded to sit in the library and stare out the window for two hours and think. To make matters worse, I spent the whole two hours humming Owen Paul's 80s classic My Favourite Waste of Time. Eventually, said track mixed with Mylo's Drop the Pressure, to cause some strange 80s dance hybrid, and that was it! Absolutely nothing to do with the future of public service broadcasting, but a new dance song, and some musings concerning The Failures of Man.

Another strange occurance I've noticed recently: I have four versions of R.E.M's Pretty Persuasion on my computer. I'm not complaining, as personally I love the track. It's a great example of one of Michael's offbeat lyrical melody with some classic Buck guitar jangling in the background. I just would've thought that I'd have noticed by the fourth time...

So I finally tracked down some Idlewild bootlegs, and whilst they haven't appeared in the post yet, I'm anticipating their arrival. The next quest, well that may be a bit more difficult. I may actually discuss The Failures of Man with some filmy people to see what they think. Basically speaking, the piece is three short stories about the failures of men who are white, middle-class, rubbish and over-eager to impress in one way or another, which eventually leads to them becoming parodies of actual humans. One is about status anxiety. One is about loneliness. One is about being into 'extreme sports'. The first ends up living in the canteen. The second gets wallpapered to the office walls. The third with some strange, and embarrasing, bodily functions.

Just realised the time. I'm going to get Lost, and then maybe get found, or maybe, just maybe swallowed in the sea...

In the Words of Andy Warhol

2005-11-01T20:18:00.000Z

"In the future, everyone will be famous for five minutes"

OK, maybe I'm being a bit over-the-top about this, but its not very often I get a brush with celebrity, and when you yourself end up involved its doubly rewarding. 'What the hell am I going on about?', I hear you asking, dear reader! Well, on Saturday, I went to the book signing to meet Russell T Davies, and it was absolutely fantastic! He's a really great bloke, and comes across just the way he does in Doctor Who Confidential or in interviews, really approachable and easy to talk to. I had a bit of a chat with him, asking for some tips surrounding my own writing and complementing him both on the success at the NTAs and for the fantastic scene at the end of Bad Wolf. Also met a couple of other fans, friends of a Man Much Greater Than I, who were really sound and took a lot of photos of what was going on. The wierdest thing though is that the South Wales Echo were doing interviews with fans outside of Waterstones, and ended up running with my interview! Subsequently, yesterday there was a big photo of me in my Tom Baker hat, holding the book, in the newspaper. Plus they didn't make me sound like an idiot, which is always a good thing. As a result, I kind of feel like the local celebrity fan! It'll pass. No one has asked for my autograph, nor hurled abuse at me in the street, so I'm not quite at the level of Charlotte Church yet.

In all honesty, I think the only people who read the Echo are either in their eighties, or not the type of people into Doctor Who, but its cool to be mentioned in the same piece as RTD though! I gotta say, I loved how Waterstones put a Dalek in amongst all of the books in the shop, as I thought it looked really good. Got me thinking about how you could turn that in to a story: perhaps you could have a library somewhere being run by the Daleks, or maybe you could just have a Dalek patrolling the dark corridors of a library, exterminating anyone who got near to some secret store of knowledge that was threatening to their race. Something like that anyways.

Away from the world of Who, there's not really that much going on. I've got an essay to write, and I decided not write it about Who. I thought I'd start on the right foot as I'm gonna write two others about it at present. Had to take a seminar yesterday, which was pretty cool if you discount the fact that only about two people spoke in my group. Nevermind, it was a good experience nonetheless.

Did you know there are two pieces of academic writing based around Phil Collins?

CyberControl's Five from the Past:

Super Furry Animals - Hometown Unicorn
Gene - Where Are They Now?
Genesis - Turn It On Again
Placebo - Scared of Girls
Blameless - Signs...

A Bit of BBC, If You Please

2005-10-28T21:54:00.000+01:00

Right, I think it's time we called for a bit of standards on the comments page attatched to here. After all how old are we all? Surely far to old to be descending in to silly comments of 'And your mum' when we can't think of anything clever to say. So from now on, we'll have less of that. It's juvenile and silly. Although having said that, I can't help but recall a trip to Tesco with an old housemate's mum. Oh, that was funny! The people involved know who they are...

Anyways, in mentions of all things BBC, I'm going to meet Russell T Davies at a book signing tomorrow. I'm quite nervous about it, but quite excited at the same time. I bet I say something stupid to him; I'm currently replaying the whole of Robot in my head for some reason, and the words 'Think Tank' keep appearing in my subconscious. Don't worry though, it's nothing to do with a Blur album. Have decided I'm gonna wear my Tom Baker hat though. Oh, and whilst we're on the subject of our good Time Lord, can I just mention the three National Television Awards picked up mid-week. Well deserved by all the recipients and to claim them in ITV's backyard as well? Stunning.

Am I Pretentious?

2005-10-21T20:40:00.000+01:00

God, its been an age since I last posted anything here. Fear not though dear reader, we haven't all jumped ship; think of it more as a fallow period due to adjusting to a new routine of life. I've now started my Masters and things are going alright. At least I think so, I feel as though I'm gradually going through the gears work-wise, and it'll still be a couple of weeks until I get back up to full speed. Anyways, the course is about what I was expecting, which is a good thing, and the travelling is pretty good as well. That may all change when essays and deadlines start to appear, but until then, we're fine. My tutor seems really cool as well, which is always pretty handy, although I think I ask him too many (probably obvious) questions. Will still though have to try and remember not to make everything I write about be based around either Who, Battlestar Galactica or something similar. After all, I am studying television and not just sci-fi television.

However, over the last couple of days its come to my attention that both of my housemates think I'm pretentious. Quite frankly, I'm astounded! The grounds for these accusations are as follows: I use big words and make overtly long sentences, I eat posh food and I make them feel inferior some times. There were other reasons, but for the moment they elude me. Anyways, for now I want to tackle these issues individually:

1) On using big words and long sentences: I just feel that if you've got a certain amount of substance to your brain, why not use it? I think this taps in to my deep-rooted hate of being viewed as stupid, something that I was made to feel for the majority of last year with my (terrible) job, and subsequently I may have reacted against that. Additionally, I spent most of the time I was in Sixth Form having to play dumb to a few people, and so didn't want to do that anymore. If that offends, then I'm sorry, but I just happen to like big words.

2) On liking decent food: what the hell is wrong with that? I mean, you hear so many stories about the rubish that's in the food you buy that I feel that in buying decent food I'm not eating as much regurgitated chicken head as other people. Granted, all I'm probably doing is eating the same amount of regurgitated chicken head as anyone else, just in better packaging. However, in my head it counts for something. Anyways, I still buy a lot of Value produce, I just happen to like fresh bread! As for ready meals, I still eat them. However, when you spent three years living with someone that constantly told you that you could make the same yourself for cheaper, and it'd taste nicer, it kind of took hold. Subsequently, I now agree with that sentiment. Moreover, what's wrong with reading the Observer Food Monthly?

3) On making people feel inferior: err, I don't know what to say to that, suffice to say that I wasn't aware I did, and if I do I'm sorry. I never mean to make people feel that way. Granted, I don't suffer fools easily, and I do tend to put up a lot of barriers before I let people in, but that's just due to past experiences. If you're too open you just get taken for a ride, and so the second (or should that be fifth?) time around, you're a bit more cautious. I don't think that's grounds for being pretentious!

Cyber Control's (pretentious) Top 5:
Maximo Park - Apply Some Pressure
The Cooper Temple Clause - The Same Mistakes
The Rakes - 22 Grand Job
Headswim - Better Made
Elbow - Snowball

A Minor Issue

2005-10-05T22:24:00.000+01:00

I keep getting this knawing, sick feeling in my stomach at the moment, and I don't know why it is. It feels like your gut aches, and then the damn thing keeps making embarassing noises. I wouldn't mind if I knew it was alcohol related, but I know that it isn't. If any reading has any idea basic medical reasoning as to why this is, I'd be most grateful.

The Edge of Forever

2005-10-02T23:21:00.000+01:00

I'm gonna be straight with you because, whilst I always believe in being honest with people, this is really scary. Tomorrow I start my Masters, and whilst I'm anxious in relation to a few factors (communting, time (then again I always seem to have anxieties in relation to time which I accredit to being lost within the Who universe)) I feel as though in no context can I f**k this up, whether that be socially or professionally. Obviously, I'd rather mess things up sociallly than professionally, as that's just me, but either way would be a major discrepency. After all, in relation to the social side of things, it was only after three years of being anxious within Undergraduate studies that I actually got to talk to most of the people that made me nervous, and they all turned out to be fantastic. I can't let that happen again. Anyways, It seems much more about Networking within the Academic world; making sure you know people going in to different institutions, and hoping they won't slag off your work. Granted someone's gonna play John Snow, but hopefully not someone you know...

OK, so this is all middle-class angst, and not as relevant as the needs of the working-class etc. Yes, I know and realise this but it, still affects me. There are still people I wish to see, and miss, from the Old Days, whether they be old housemates or friends long departed. Eitherways, when you're looking back, as well as forward, as well as presentley, it leaves you in a mess in relation to time. For whilst forever is open, the present is there to manipulate, and the past lays paths to the discourses that made you what you are.

Oh, on an indie note, Maximo Park's new release Apply Some Pressure, is well worth a listen, if only for the last four lyrical lines.

On Being in a Seinfeld Mood

2005-09-30T13:33:00.000+01:00

And so the debate rages on as to whether City of Death should be the Christmas DVD release, with the masses still demanding Genesis. Just one glance at the BBC website pays testament to this. I did fancy publishing a post pleading for Timelash, but even I cannot stoop so low as to try and wind up my beloved Who brethren. In all seriousness though, please can we have Greatest Show in the Galaxy next year? Please, BBC. Err, I'll be your best friend (?!?) Wait, this is all getting rather childish, I'll stop. I'm simply conforming to stereotypes if I continue that train of thought. Personally though, I welcome CoD to DVD, it'll definately be on my Christmas list. After all, being an analyst, and that being a televisual text, our two lines of work do dovetail very nicely!

Hmmm, so how is life? Life is good, thanks! A lot better than this time last week, I'll put it that way. I've done muchos readingos for the commencement of my course next week, and even potentially come up with an idea for my dissertation: it involves tackling the problems of making television drama for a global audience, by analysing the 1996 Who Tv Movie within the generic contexts of American and British television drama and drawing reference to such expectations related to elements such as the single play, the TV Movie and, naturally science-fiction, whilst paying attention to how these are played out within the text and the way they set up expectations for audiences within different cultures. In short, I seek to prove that even in today's globalised television society, it's impossible to make drama to satisfy a global audience. May even be able to work in some discussion and/or analysis of the new series as well! This all came to me on Monday night, after successfully completing my first sudoku, after six months of trying. Its times like that when I truly do kick ass.

Oh yeah, and a quick note to anyone who fancies kidnapping me: I found out in Devon that I can easily fit in the boot of a Peugeot 106, with the parcel shelf in and the door shut, and breathe perfectly well. Thus, if anyone does fancy abducting me, you won't need a fancy car.

Ultimate Chat Up Line for Goths:
"I like the way your organs are decaying."

CyberControl's Favourite Tunes:

22 Grand Job by The Rakes
Going Missing by Maximo Park
Sit Down, Stand Up by Radiohead
Swallowed in the Sea by Coldplay
All These Things That I've Done by The Killers

Hope

2005-09-26T20:12:00.000+01:00

"You want to trust the Doctors, their procedure is the best
But the last try was a failure and the intern was a mess
And they did the same to Matthew, and he bled 'til Sunday night
They're saying 'Don't be frightened', but you're weakened by the sight of it"

It's funny. That track has never really meant anything to me. It's always just been 'The One with the Simple Synth Part', positioned between two great songs on one of my favourtie records. That's not to say I never liked the track, it just didn't get under my skin in the way, say, Falls to Climb has. However, the above lyrics pretty much sum up the events of the last week or so. In short, I've been presented with situations to which there are no real solutions. There's no chance of either reconciliation, or the current situation getting any better. Why should I be so arrogant as to assume I could make any form of difference, I hear you ask dear reader? Well, in my family I've always been the go-between, the mediator if you like, who listens to all of the different arguments and then helps people decide what the most amicable solution is for all involved. I suppose it's no wonder as to why I did a journalism degree; I was simply playing to my strengths.

Yet, when you're faced with problems concerning mental illness there is no solution, no matter how great you're hope in medical science is. You're simply presented with a situation where the person involved is just going to get worse, and gradually they'll fade in to their own world until they finally sleep. What makes it a lot worse, and adds to the feeling of helplessness, is seeing the person involved as a shadow their former self. In this instance, it refers to my grandfather: a veteran of the Second World War, a man who stood up and fought for what was right, and a proud man who wouldn't suffer fools. Just don't let him watch any repeats of old Python shows, that's all. What was moving about visiting him though was the way in which my Gran held herself around him. It was wrenching to watch her as, whilst she knew that he wouldn't be getting any better, she still treated him as though everything was OK, and still offered him the same affection she always has. It was a display of dignity that really got to me.

This is especially the case when you view it in the context of my sister, who has just walked out of her (very new) marriage after thirteen months for someone else. I'm not sure whether she got bored, but when asked why she simply spouted some sub-Cosmopolitan, sub-feminist nonsense that involved the phrase 'skin crawl' and that, it seems, is that. Endgame. Another government statistic in the making. However, as with most things with my sister, it's only when you scratch the surface that you get a more rounded sense of what's going on, and that's a whole different can of worms.

So as a result, hope is short in relation to my family, and that's a shame as it's a concept I value greatly. Just one look at some of my favourite media reflects this: from the lyrics disclosed above, to the attention-grabbing title of iDLEWiLD's debut record (Hope is Important), to the title of one of my favourite bands (Hope of the States), it's always there. Hell, look at the end of Shawshank! The reason the conclusion is so euphoric, and moving, is due to the hope it offers. Now by hope, I don't mean the futile, religous-based definition of the word (i.e. I hope that God exists),. Instead I am referring to the kind of hope that is devoid of notions of 'belief': hope that things will get better, hope for a brighter tomorrow, and that good things happen to good people. The only problem is that when faced with the knowledge that things have to get worse before they can get better, its not always easy to keep that hope.

The above lyrics come from a track called Hope on R.E.M.'s sublime record, Up. If you ever get the opportunity, it's well worth a listen.

Terminus

2005-09-15T13:24:00.000+01:00

So that was it. Terminus. However, there were no revelations that we onboard the leper ship, nor that everyone was going to die (for one reason or another), nor was there any mention of Lazar's Disease. Instead, there was a strangely moving, almost sombre, atmosphere to my departure in to the world of unemployment, and then, soon, in to the saving arms of academia. A few manly handshakes, a card with pleasent words dispersed inside, and some strong, inspiring words from my superiors, all made for an unexpected end to my days with directory enquiries. Whoever thought this retiring, nervy sf fan, with a habit of making stupid observations (often involving badgers) when in team meetings, could elicit such a response from people? In short, I never realised I meant that much to my peers. I always thought I was just a bit of wallpaper: turned up, fitted in, didn't draw attention to itself and was easily replacable. However, over the last few months I have come to feel as though some people in that place have helped awaken a certain part of me I never knew existed. A part of me that is confident in my own abilities, that recognises I'm not the tragic waste of space I always proclaim I am, and that I'm someone with the passion and motivation to go and do whatever I want. Yes, I'm still very much aware that, at the most basic level, I'm a pile of rotting organs; matter that was decaying from the moment it was awoken, doing so at a rate slower than that of animals but quicker than that of the universe. However, when we come to time, everything is relative. Anyways, for that I'm truly grateful, and there's always the leaving celebrations, even if they are two weeks away.

So where from here? Immidiatley, I'm needed elsewhere. What with the hurricane currently blowing through my family, I feel it's my duty to go home and try and steady the ship to the best of my abilities. I think that's a direct consequence of being a Whovian: the show gives you a great feeling of responsibility and morailty, of standing up, and trying to do the 'right thing', if such a thing can ever truly exist. For my parents, I think they could do with some irreverance to take their mind off things, and I know I'm the person for that, whilst with regards to my sister, I've gone from feeling that she's back to the person she used to be, to a feeling of just not knowing her at all, in the space of aproximately three weeks. Who knows, I may even once more encounter the Portreath of the Borough of Newton Abbot whilst I'm back! In all honesty, I never knew the place had a Portreath, nor that Newton Abbot was a Borough, but we all live to learn and strive towards enlightenment. Moreover, its all very Castrovalva. Yet, although I may be going back, in the words of the Bluetones, it's just for a short while. Moreover, whilst I am going back, I've lots of work to do. Subsequently, that can only mean one thing: they better have plenty of tea in.

"Up until this moment, I'd only ever wanted to see one thing: you naked. Well, that and Arc of Infinity, but at this precise point in time, Omega can wait."

Too Long Awake

2005-09-10T21:10:00.000+01:00

Its been a long week, and as I sit here on a Saturday night enjoying a glass of red wine and listening to B*Witched's C'est La Vie (we all suffer our vices), reflecting on how this track always seems to appear at strange points in my life (usually when drunk), I can honestly admit I'll be glad to see this week's demise. Its been both physically and emotionally draining: for some reason family and friends have a nasty habit of falling apart at the same time, and whilst I don't at all mind being the person people fall on, it'd be nice if it didn't all happen at once. However, if that's the state of play at the minute, so be it. As the current Coldplay track observes, "I'll try to fix you", the only problem is that I subsequently feel as though I've been too long awake. I'm not gonna go into all the details, mainly because I don't believe in disclosing everything all of time, but I just wanted to get a few observations I've come to this week out in the open. Some of them are blindingly obvious, but I wanted to make them explicit because I feel they should be said. Some are a bit more cryptic but hopefully the person(s) they're directed to will be able to decode. Here goes:

1. Contemporary Man is not supposed to work 50 hours a week, especially when this only invloves one trip to the pub.

2. It is unwise to drink four pints of Hoegaarden in one sitting, even if this is over a considerable period of time.

3. The Kinder Egg is not a suitable implement with which to impersonate Steve Harmison, nor any other members of the England Cricket team's bowling attack.
3a. Similarly, the packagaing of the Kinder Egg often lies to you. Not offering you a free SpongeBob, nor Patrick Starfish, nor any of the other characters, but instead granting you a small imp and a euphonium.

4. My housemates are f***ing great.

5. I feel closer to my parents when I'm further away from them.

6. No matter how sure you are about things they will always strive to prove you wrong, and often succeed in doing so.

7. Bad news always announces itself when you're in the company of people who were either involved, or around, the last time it said 'Hi'.

8. Saying 'Hello' to people you've come to long for usually results in rewarding, if brief, social interactions.

9. I will soon be on to my third pair of headphones this year. Is this my fault, or are they just badly made?

10. Despite making both iconic (Daydreamer) and impressive (Being Brave) contributions to the Britpop era, Menswear couldn't do vocal harmonies for toffee, and had trouble holding notes in the right keys at times.

11. The track Gay Bar by Electric Six is still very funny, even two years down the line.

12. Isn't it great when you misinterpret song lyrics. Only today I thought I heard a girl on the radio singing about fish eyes.

13. I'm a walking embodiment of the values of Public Service Broadcasting, as forwarded by the BBC especially.

14. Susanna Hoffs was, and still is, really hot.

15. Nobody has better sex than the people in your head do.

16. Anything involving the words 'everlasting', or 'magic', or a combination of the two, are falsifications. There are no such things in the world.

The Brain of Morbius. And Coupland. And Me...

2005-09-03T21:14:00.000+01:00

I really should write thoughts down when they come to me rather than almost twelve hours later, after going to work, a football match, and endless amounts of cleaning, so consequently this may go astray. Then again, these posts always do, so I don't really see the point in making such a statement. I always end up reading these posts back thinking 'Yeah, that's what you should've said' in my head. I digress. The point I want to make is that there's something big brewing: something I've been dwelling on a little recently and I just need to get it together in a coherent manner before I discuss it. It's rather philosophical, and epic, but watch this space...

In all honesty, today's been something of a non-entity: I awoke today, full of the joys of, err, late Summer (?), awaiting the pleasure of viewing the top-ten making Greatest Show in the Galaxy, only to be greeted by an episode of Dangerfield and a 30 minute clip show concerning 'The Best Who Monsters'. I mean, come on UK Gold! You were only a fortnight away from the end of the McCoy era! The show itself was alright, but it was mostly just the same old same old. I mean its good to see the old folks ambling around the stage, but its always the same guys! I mean, how many times do we have to see the Autons wreaking havoc on Ealing high-street? Yes, it's classic, but surely they could've mixed in some Terror as well? Ditto that with the Ice Warriors. Leaving out both of the Peladon stories is, quite frankly, careless! However, the show did leave me wanting to a) watch The Ice Warriors once more, and b) track down Seeds of Doom, Brain of Morbius and, strangely, Ark in Space. All that, and no Greatest Show means that I'm pining for a lot of different stories at the moment. Bet none of the unreleased above, nor Delta, ends up on the BBC release list for next year. One of the main saving graces of the formerly mentioned show though was the joy in realising Tom Baker was wearing a jacket similar to the one I recently purchased. Oh yeah! I'm slowly becoming like one of my idols, probably because I don't want to become myself.

It was strange Morbius should be featured in the programme, seen as though the word 'Morbius' has been running through my head a lot as of late. I don't know why this is; I just seem to go through stages when certain words appear in my conscious, and I just want to blurt them out at random intervals, just to get them out there and see how people react. Anyways, I ended up sketching Dear Morbius on a piece of paper at work this morning, much to the disgust of the woman sat next to me. I don't think she knew what it was, and I wouldn't blame her for being scared. The character itself is quite grotesque. Then again, that's probably why I like him.

In relation to work, I thought this resignation thing would feel different to what it does: after weeks of being told how valued you are, reaction has been very subdued. Now, I didn't want any kind of fuss or fanfare, not in any dimension. However, it'd have been nice to have been able to explain the reasons behind it, and keep a few options open, instead of just 'Right, ok then. Off you go'. Similarly, in myself, I thought I'd feel a mix of joy and relief. Instead its just boredom and accenuated frustration. The only saving grace for today's shift was the fact that I saw the rather lovely (x) that I've been admiring from afar for the first time in ages. Typical me though, I did my usual and said nothing to her. Instead, I just got a strange wave of nerves inside telling me not to say anything stupid, and with that the moment passed. I should've asked her where she'd been, but that'd have probably come across as a bit wierd and stalker-ish. I'd like to turn around to her and say something along the lines of 'Hey, look, I'm leaving this place soon and I'd really like to take you out for dinner, or a drink, or a movie sometime as I think you're pretty, err, pretty, which is probably why I've never said anything to you for ages, since I have this horrible habit of saying really stupid things in front of people who make me nervous, such as you. So what do you think?' but I know she'd just look at me as though I'm wierd. Having said that, she's probably been away for ages as she's been getting married, or had some serious illness, or something similar, and subsequently would make an excuse similar to that, smile sweetly, and forget me as quickly as the news broadcast she heard on the radio that morning.

And so in the above, we hit upon one of the internal questions I eternally struggle with: when is the right time to risk looking like an idiot, and admit your feelings? Or is it better just to ignore these thoughts and stumble around in life until, as people always tell you, someone stumbles into you? Thus, we hit upon one of my Big Questions in life: how can you be sure?

Bloody hell, we've gone deep, and that's not even what I was going to go deep about. Sorry if all of this seems a bit whiney but, as Coupland rightly observes, of all of society's taboos, loneliness is the most taboo of them all. I just wish I was as good at describing it as he was. Unfortunately though, that's one person I'll never get close to immitating.

A Plea to Deaf Ears

2005-08-29T23:14:00.000+01:00

As I sit here listening to some b-sides from the last few singles, I really wish that Idlewild would re-release their current album acoustically, as the tracks work so much better. The version of El Capitan is sublime, whilst Love Steals Us From Lonliness, with its mournful cello, is simply haunting. If they're not going to, and in an age when albums are re-released all the time I think it'd be a missed opportunity, then if anyone knows where I can get a bootleg of their acoustic tour earlier this year, I'd be very grateful.

The Emancipating Capabilities of Technology?

2005-08-28T22:57:00.000+01:00

Can I just start by saying, and I don't get the opportunity to say this that often, well done to my beloved Exeter City, you've made me proud. I'm wearing my shirt with great hope today, hope for the rest of the season and that we may go one way whilst those other idiots go down. No offence to the Conference, the matches I've seen have been better than a number of the old Third Division matches I saw us play, but it'd be nice to be 'Exeter City of the Football League' once more. Anyways, to come back from 1-0 down away from home, against a fancied side, and win is a great show of character. Let's hope it continues for tommorow against that bastion of footballing excellence that is Forest Green Rovers.

That aside, its been a tirsome weekend: 21 hours worked over three days, coupled with a disastrous encounter with modern technology have left me rather worn out. And to think it could've all been so much better! I'm happy to report that in the last year I've gotten over my technology issues, mainly due to my good friend, and pirate, Christopher Rodway who has shown me just how irrational my fears actually were. However, it's noticable that this encounter happened whilst he was away. The occurance was due to my need for a new printer; technology has progressed over time and subsequently my old one doesn't speak to the now-downsized Cyber Tomb. So gleefully I marched to PC World, spending a good amount of time weighing up a) what suits my needs, b) what I can get some money off and c) what looked a little sexy. I finally settled on a little gizmo that not only prints, but scans and photocopys as well! Fear not though dear reader, an encounter with my arse it will not be getting, no matter how drunk I get. I mean try explaining that to Customer Support. However, after looking like a right prat at the checkout, by managing to pick up the only box not corresponding to what I was looking for in a pile of what I was, I eventually got home and began to set up said device. However, it doesn't work. Not even after the fourth attempt of setting it up. Instead it's sat here, at my feet, smirking worse than Micheal Howard in last year's General Election campaign. What makes it worse is that a) sodding Hewlett Packard don't provide any form of support number, aside from a website that tells you exactly what the set-up brochure does, and b) I spent a good ten minutes on the phone to PC World, doing everything I've previously done once more, only to be told 'Nah mate, I think you've got a faulty piece of hardware'. Well done sir. Keep it up and the people at Nobel will be on to you with an award. It's no wonder people get so agitated...

Anyways, 'How was Friday night?', I hear you enquire, dear reader! Well, the pizza was good, the Dalek was even better, and the wine was cheap. I, however, was rubbish: after Who had finished, I was asleep within five minutes, only to be awoken about an hour and a half later by the dulcit sounds of MTV. I didn't even get as far as the Ghost Light DVD. Oh yeah, and you'll never guess which song said channel was playing when I awoke... Yes, it was Mariah sodding Carey's We Belong Together. If this happens once more, I'm taking a restraining order out against the bloody song.

Speed of Time

2005-08-25T22:48:00.000+01:00

Ugh, Devon seems a long time ago, even though it really was only a matter of days. The trip itself was great: there was laughter, there was strangeness, there were reunions, there was some picking at old scars, there was Exeter City sitting comfortably at the top of the Conference with Torquay bottom of their league, there were conversations with random strangers, there was a worryingly large amount of dancing and there was the strange realisation that some things/people/events are bigger than you, and can affect you in ways that make you very nervous. Eitherways it seems like, well, an experience a million miles away...

I look forward to tomorrow evening, when I can collapse with a pizza, a bottle of wine and the BBC3 repeat of Dalek. That'll keep me going during another ten hour shift. After that I'll probably fall asleep seen as though I find it hard to stay awake after 10pm, and asleep after the witching hour. Maybe its all those Demons I've been watching recently. That's definately become one of my fave words at present: Demons. Its even replaced 'Hellbeasts' as the preferred way of descrbing all things nasty. It just implies so much: from psychological states to tacky Dario Argento films, via Super Furry Animals songs, in one fowl swoop. Hurray for Demons!

Told my employer I'm leavin today. It was like Hiroshima in a call centre.

Cyber Control's songs of the moment:

Editors - Blood
Simple Minds - All the Things She Said
The Strokes - What Ever Happened?
Coldplay - Fix You
Beck - Girl

Plans and Schemes

2005-08-11T21:21:00.000+01:00

As I sit here about to write the (probably, unless something amazing, or tragic, happens) last post before I return back to Devon to revel in the glory of my home town, I'm truly stuck for ideas. There's so much I could talk about, and yet, at a personal level, there seems so little. No one really wants to hear me slag off my job anymore. What's more in that respect, I've only got about four weeks before I leave and so feel a bit stupid moaning about something that's coming to an end. The main problem with that situation is, as with relationships, I seem to feel that if things are dying, why stay around to drag them out? Why not save the face of both parties involved and end it there and then? I suppose they really are two different things, but that's just a thought. On a different note related to work, why do you always spend the day with really appauling songs stuck in your head? I mean, there are perfectly good current offerings from Bloc Party and The Rakes that I could easily spend the day humming, but instead I seem to be left with two absolute hams. One is Mariah Carey's We Belong Together, which is played blanketly across all music channels after 11pm at nite, the other being some abortion of a track featuring the line "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?" Well, judging by your video dear, no. I don't. You're not exactly Scarlett Johanson yourself. What I'd give to spend the day with a bit of Phil to hum along to. Maybe Follow You, Follow Me or Turn it On Again. Magic.

So what have I really been up to recently? Well, a little bit of soul-searching in respect to the usual Big Themes I like to muse on. However, I have also got back into writing some music over the past couple of weeks. Something I haven't done since the failed project Krycek disbanded about this time last year. Ah, Simon, we could have done so much. Well, at least been something other than another Nirvana tribute act in the Devon music scene. We'd have been a Radiohead one instead! Anyways, I've so far developed two tracks pretty well, calling them For Your Amusement... and Scarlet respectively. If I had to describe them, I couldn't because I'm crap like that. Imagine if Brian Molko and Billy Corgan watched some Who and then wrote some lyrics, whilst Idlewild, Suede, REM and Radiohead jammed in the background, throwing in some heavy-riffing at certain points as well. Think that's the My Chemical Romance influence coming through. In short, it's intense, and epic, but you wouldn't expect anything else from me, would you dear reader?

It's funny I should end up writing about stuff I've been writing, because looking back over the years, the amount of ideas, plans and projects I've conceptualised, but never seen through, is quite outstanding. For example, there was the Don't Waste Cake campaign of 1999, that saught to do away with wasted cake in bakeries. Then, more recently there was The International Language of Doing Nothing Well, which was supposed to be a way for all people, like myself, who felt a bit worthless to communicate with. This soon evolved into another small idea for the apathetic, titled The International Language of Doing Nothing, Well. Isn't it great what you can do with a comma here and there. Completely changes the focus of a sentence, and hence the scheme, doesn't it? It truly is wonderful the differences in meaning you can portray by just altering one word in a sentence. There was an exhibit about this at Tate Modern recently. Unfortunately, I didn't get to go but I bet it was ace.

I'd just like to think that some of current projects, or ideas, don't go the same way that Krycek, and all of the above, did and end up in the bin. It'd be nice if either my drama series (I'll Hate you Next September), my music (The Infinity Loop), or one of my Who stories ended up out there. I think the problem is, I get in the habit of thinking that what I'm doing is both pointless and crap, and so just leave it to rot away. I don't quite know how to get over these constantly creeping doubts. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd be more than grateful. I'm bursting with so much creativity that it needs to find some form of outlet!

Fuck Dance, Let's Art

Taking Back Sunday

2005-08-04T22:01:00.000+01:00

A strange realisation has come over me the last few days, well, since last Sunday if we're looking to be precise. However, it occurred to me on the said day exactly how much I miss not having Sunday to myself. Now, I never used to do anything of great consequence with them anyways. In fact, when I was back in glorious Devon, I was quite often working, but that was only for a few hours. Yet whilst at Uni, Sunday really came into its own. Sunday was always an excuse for an early start, a lot of reading, the possiblity of a football match in the afternoon, and then the Union pub quiz in the evening. In short, they were a day for relaxing and doing stuff you enjoyed. Jesus, you can tell how much of geek I am, I actually enjoyed studying at Uni. Then again, I always stand by the statement you should study what you enjoy rather than what you're good at.

Anyways, my point is this: Sunday's are for doing things, even if that involves doing very little! At least your doing something! If you're simply watching Dawson's Creek, you're still doing something as you're endulging in the act of viewing. Sunday is not a day for being sworn at by members of the public. Sunday is not the day for trying to decode what the hell people in Leeds are trying to say. Sunday is not the day to be working a ten hour shift. Now, I'm in no way suggesting some regression back to biblical times, when people had to attend some organization for fear of being burnt alive, or having one of their children sodomised by a local 'dignitory'. Surely we went through the Enlightenment for something, after all? No. I'm suggesting that for one day a week, contemporary culture just finds an 'off' switch. Surely we can go one day without words such as 'Customer Service', or 'Mobile Phone', or both, needing to be uttered? Surely we all deserve one day where everyone just goes "Sod it. I'm going to read a book" or something?

So this Sunday, when I'm indulging in the unsavoury occasions outlined above, I know a big part of me will be yearning for (less than comfortable) wooden bench, with good friends, a drink or two, dogs running in the park and a sudoku that I won't even look at for the simple reason that I always mess them up. I'll long for a crappy tabloid, where you can colour in the letters of headlines to make new ones that seem more interesting, whilst listening to acoustic-rock music and smiling nervously at waitresses who may or may not be looking in your direction.

Come on people, join me. Lets turn the world off for a day. It moves quick enough as it is! So before this idea itself becomes redundant, why not act? I'll see you in Terra Nova, where the toilets are badly labelled and the cocktails are embarassingly named. Make mine a peroni...

Downside on the Up

2005-07-25T22:07:00.000+01:00

I feel slightly apprehensive in writing this post, especially in light of the previous one, as it's necessary to gauge the right tone. After the downward focus of my previous musings, it would be wrong for me to turn around and pretend that that was just a blip: me having a bit of a 'bad day' if you will. The truth is I'm probably not OK, not feeling all that together, but that certainly doesn't mean I'll be doing anything stupid. I apologise if I gave that impression. So whilst I currently find myself in a dark place, it's worth noting that there is always light in dark places, even if it's the mearest flicker. Thus, without getting all Bono/Amnesty International, it's always necessary to keep a sense of hope. The only problem I have is that whilst I have hope, it's usually outweighed by pessimism on a ratio of about 1:3 against.

What do I accredit this to? Well, I can't help but thinking that part of it comes from the music I listen to, and the outlook I've developed from that since a young age. You see, I've always been a follower of the indie/ rock scene, and always especially been a fan of the epic, string-drencehed, mournful ballad of which The Verve used to be such fine purveyours. Furthermore though, I've always truly valued songs, and artists, that are genuine, or honest if you like. One of the reasons I hold R.E.M. in such high esteem is you can always tell the genuine emotion behind both Michael's lyrics and delivery, and the fact that the music adds to the sense of melancholy inherent in them. It's the same with the music of Neil Finn and Crowded House, you can tell the honesty of the emotion in the songs being played. However, the main problem I've always had with the music scene I so adore is the drunken, sing-along crowd who, in my (perhaps rather shallow?) opinion, appear to have little connection to the sentiments being portrayed. I mean come on! How can a townie possibly relate to something like Losing my Religion, Falls to Climb or Snow Patrol's Run? As a result, I always try to understand where these songs 'come' from, and attempt to relate to that either via hyperthetical situations or real-life experiences. I suppose at the end of the day, I truly value honesty, and things that are genuine, and so want myself to be reflected in the music, and art, I consume. Perhaps this is the part of me that needs to regenrate? But in doing so, how can I possibly keep a hold of the things that I so value? Or perhaps I just need to stop wearing 'being a fan' on my sleeve so much?

Sorry, this has gone all 'Me Me Me' again, hasn't it? I do apologise, dear reader. Thank you for returning to this humble page and sticking with it. I also apolgise that the updates haven't been that often recently. The truth is I've been downsizing: moving out of Cyber Control to the smaller, yet more portable, Cyber Tombs of Telos. In short, I've bought a laptop and am in the process of transferring files across. This then explains why the Brighton photos are yet to be uploaded; the necessary programme is still on the old computer, you see! Fear not though, once things have fully changed over, I'll be sexing this place up better than a US Presidential Intellegence document. You see, it's not acid, it's a wicked sense of humour!

I watched a terrible film at the weekend: Van Wilder. I don't know why I watched it, I think it was the only thing on television at the time, and the lure of Tara Reid was also helpful. I think she's something of a modern day Jenny Agutter: a guarantee of an opportunity for a male to admire the female form, therefore momentarily filling the holes in his own life. Anyways, the film was crap. Sure, they made Ms. Reid's 'boyfriend' utterly dispicable, but the other guy was just as bigger loser as well! He was your typical 'Hey, I'm an easy going, slacker-type who just gets drunk and makes silly quips all the time' character. I mean, come on! What's wrong with a bit of depth to these characters? Rather than the usual 'Boy meets Girl' scenario, why not add in a few emotional scars to pick at? Or maybe some death? Or maybe something off-the-wall, such as the occult, ghosts or doppelgangers? You see, that's what makes Donnie Darko.

Finally, there's much in the world of Who that needs addressing at present but, unfortunately, now is not the time. What with new episode titles announced, new cast members and, most importantly, new press photos showing David Tennant wearng what appears to be one of my suit jackets! However, this week could be rather hectic, what with work and social engagements over the weekend, so these will have to wait a little. In the words of a sadly-forgotten classic from the Britpop era, this weekend "we'll go out tonight and breathe, a little deeper", and in such instances there's always hope; hope for the opportunity to laugh, to forget, and maybe to meet someone special. However, there's still always the doubt that comes with this, and you know how big that can be.

Damaged Goods

2005-07-19T22:00:00.000+01:00

It has come to my attention over the last week or so that I am not quite myself, with this being brought to a head this evening when one of my housemates expressed that they thought I've been this way for a long time. Truth is, I'd sensed it myself as well: only yesterday I was chatting with a good friend I hadn't seen for a long time and it felt as though, well, I didn't have anything to say. I feel as though people have stories to tell, conversations to indulge in, concerning all manor of things, whereas I seem to be unable to be drawn into these situations. The responses I make are really dull, but conversly when I try to make a conversation its always about something really dull. In short, it seems lately as though if I can't make some strange quip in relation to a film, tv show or band, then I can't hold a conversation at all. Thus, if it's not the Daleks then I'm not good. Otherwise, if people are talking about something serious (i.e. politics), I seem to have a nasty knack of saying something completely abstract that subsequently destroys the conversation.

What worries me the most is that one day I'm gonna turn around and realise that, contray to the old adage that "No man is an island", I've done a bloody good job in becoming one. I'll be the guy who lives on his own and gets the occasional visitor from x and their partner, who politely inform you about the wonderful time(s) they're having, and when asked the question of "So what have you been up to?", I'll just reply with, "Oh you know. This and that", which actually means nothing because I'm so isolated the only company I have is four walls and myself.

More alarming to me is the way that I can't seem to be able to strike up a conversation with anyone. If people come up to me and start talking then I'm fine. Overtly pleasent, I suspect. But for me to go and talk to someone? Woah, that's another cup of tea! I just don't know what to say to people. With blokes, I know you're gonna get some quippy put-down as a reply and I'm not quick witted enough to think of anything suitable as a retort. Couple in the fact that my sense of humour doesn't revolve around being mysoginistic and talking about sex, and we hit upon part of the problem. Whereas with women? Don't even go there. You see, I've come to the realistaion that, after many years of attempting to enter in the dating game, I'm really not attractive to the opposite sex. Granted, I mean, who really wants to date a weedy Whovian with mild obssesive-compulsive disorder? This then hits upon other problems I have if, and only if, I meet someone I like: I come across as rather intense. This is due to the fact that I rationalise things far too much and if I meet someone I like, I don't see the point in all this Dancing around the Houses. I just tend to think that life is short enough, and the moments that people share can be rather brief, so what's the point in wasting these moments? Now, this could be a direct result of the problems I've had with dating in the past, namely that every girl I seem to be interested in goes off with someone else. Hence, another reason why I think I'm dull. Moreover, if, and again if, I do manage to talk to someone I can come across as rather smug and cheesy. This is because I don't know what to say to keep conversations going.

Consequently, we move on to another reason why I'm feeling pretty low at the moment: all I seem to think about is myself. I've lost contact with so many people, probably due to being miserable, and spent so much time with myself as of late that the only person I really think about is me. Now by admission, I'm not a great fan of my own company, so you can imagine the downward spirals that entail. I keep thinking, no hoping, that this will end; that someone will smash into my life and wake me up. Show me a few things I've never seen before, help me feel a few things I've not felt before, or for a long time at least, and at the end of the day, help me feel a bit more human. The way things are at the present, I can only see one end result: a big wooden box in about 40 years or so, and if that's all that's ahead, then why not simply accelerate the process? After all, I may regenrate into something better?

Don't Go Back to Athens

2005-07-14T22:18:00.000+01:00

Crikey, I can't believe it's been over a week since I last mused on my inconsequential existance here. The truth is that so much has happened over the past week,I haven't had the time to update this site. As a result, things are gonna get a bit sketchy, as I'll have to cover things that happened after others as it'll take any age for me to manipulate all the photographs regarding my trip to Brighton. Consequently, we'll have to rewind to Sunday, instead of Saturday, and tackle the appearance of R.E.M. at the Millenium Stadium instead.

I always thought Sunday was gonna be a good day. After all, its not every day you get to see your favourite band play live, and it's always extra-special when its your first time, if you pardon the expression. Anyways, I was a little surprised to be awaken by my friends at 0930 in the morning. However, it's a marked improvement on the time achieved by Savage, when he appeared on my doorstep at 0805 a couple of weeks ago. I think its something to do with the air in Devon, making people get up early. Either that or they're really eager to get out of Devon (or perhaps that should be see Yours Truly?). Now, its never a sensible idea to have ice cream for breakfast because, although thoroughly pleasant, it isn't really that substantial. Couple that with the fact that it freezes your brain easily, and it became evident I was going to be rather silly for a couple of hours, as proven by the little aside into why the ice cream company parted company with Mr. Whippy as a mascot. It was, for those interested, for thoroughly sinister reasons...

After an interesting experience in a Toby Carvery, reading Nietszche whilst drinking cider in a Welsh pub overlooking a Safeway, I eventually found myself heading towards the beginning of the concert and inside the Millenium Stadium. Unfortuantely, I couldn't resist telling people that this was where Dalek was filmed, and I secretly harboured desires to start running around shouting 'Exterminate' at people. I'm such a child. Eventually things got down to business as, after enduring one support act that consisted of a guy and an acoustic guitar (not that impressive and a bit depressing in all honesty), iDLEWiLD finally made their way on to the stage. Now, I was a little disappointed about this since I thought they'd be on just before R.E.M., but in hindsight I was glad they weren't. The problem was that they just looked bloody nervous, especially Roddy. Now I know Roddy is one of the shy, retiring, poetic types, but where was the guy who threw himself around Cardiff Uni Great Hall eighteen months ago? Aside from that, they were bloody good, playing an almost 'Greatest Hits' set with Little Discourage and American English obvious highlights and a welcome cover of Sweet Home Alabama featuring Mike Mills on keyboards.

By the time Messers Stipe and Company appeared on stage, I was getting even more jumpy than usual. Granted, I'd already managed to scare certain members of the party with my over-enthusiastic enjoyment of iDLEWiLD, so it was with great vigour that I jumped to my feet during the first few chords of Bad Day. This joy was only scuppered when told to 'Sit down' by the old couple behind me as they couldn't see. OK, they probably hadn't paid £40 a ticket to watch my Tom Baker wig jig up and down for two hours, but neither had I paid £40 to sit and clap politely at the Greatest Band in the World. After all, R.E.M are a rock band, playing a rock concert, so isn't it just right to want to rock? Its almost there in the title of the event, isn't it?

An obvious highlight was the fact they played Strange Currencies, my absolute fave track that they'd only played once throughout the whole tour, and couple that with an extra poignant Everybody Hurts in light of the London attacks and a beautifully intimate Nightswimming and you had a supreme gig all round. It's been previously identified by journalists that one of the great things about R.E.M., and Michael especially, is their ability to be both ballsy and vulnerable at the same time, and this was apitomised in Stipe's energetic performance, causing the stripe of make-up across his eyes to crack and run across his face. OK, if appearing in a Welsh rugby shirt and celebrating Brains SA was playing to certain members of the crowd ever-so-slightly, it only goes to show how good the band really are: willing to push the right buttons to acknowledge little cultural differences. So whilst Michael played the rock-star, his voice showed why I view him as the best singer around, largely due to the fact he doesn't just sing tracks like they are on the record. Instead, his voice seems to be capable of ascending to new levels in the live performance that only add to the emotion of the songs. Back this up with Buck and Mills' wonderful backing and you had something bordering on the sublime. The set list in full was:

Bad Day
What's the Frequency, Kenneth?
The One I Love
Drive
The Outsiders
Animal
Strange Currencies
Wanderlust
So Fast, So Numb
Leaving New York
Everbody Hurts
Electron Blue
Electrolite
(Unknown Track)
Final Straw
Orange Crush
Walk Unafraid
Losing My Religion

Immitation of Life
The Great Beyond
Exhuming McCarthy
Nightswimming
DJ
Man On the Moon

Right, just gotta find a minidisc to recreate the live experience!

Am I an Alien? Or am I Simon Le Bon?

2005-07-05T22:20:00.000+01:00

I've been thinking a lot recently about the concept of identity, and the ways in which people construct themselves. After all, we all do it, from the clothes we wear to the words we speak and the manner in which we speak them! These thoughts have been brewing in Deep Thought for a while now, finally coming to a head on the way to Sainsburys this morning. I don't know why my brain works so well when in motion, but it just seems to be that way. Perhaps I should do my job in one of those chairs they use to test the potential ability of astronauts with. You know the ones, like they try to kill Bond with in Moonraker? It ceratinly might make the day go a bit quicker, whilst also being a potentially interesting experiment into relativity at the same time.

Anyways, my thoughts with respect to identity largely stemed from my percieved inability to connect with people, especially people of my own age. I don't know why, but when people seem to be having some form of crisis I'm usually stood there going "Oh for goodness sake, it's only (insert event here). Hardly the end of the world, is it?" Thus, whilst others seem able to offer supportive words or gestures, I feel awkward and unsure of what to do. There's a great moment that captures this well in the Hitchhikers movie when, as Ford and Arthur are about to be thrown out of the Vogon airlock, Ford turns to Arthur and asks "Would you like a hug?!" as though he's not really sure how humans work in situations such as this. What do I put this ineptitude down to? Well, I mainly put it down to my interests and the people I admire. It's always been observed that one of the best things about Tom Baker's performance as the Doctor was his ability to speak lines of grave or macabre importance with a huge grin on his face. As a result, this is something I've always found interesting: playing with the expectations people have and subverting 'norms'. As a result, more often than not, I do say things that are ultra-serious or profound with a huge grin on my face, to see how people take them. An action which is made all the more unnerving for those involved since I don't tend to smile that often.

Moreover, my 'alien' qualities are evident in other areas of my 'self' as well: for instance, I remind myself of my 'Cybermen' qualities when approaching people. I don't tend to show that much emotion about very often, as shown in the above example, but also in regard to such things as 'hugging'. Like Ford, I never seem to know the times when this is an exceptable action and so tend not to endulge in the action, thus reinforcing my 'Cyberself' since I tend to shy away from physical interactions with people. If you couple that with the fact that I'm hideously logical, boiling anything down to the most rational way to go about things, it's not suprising I admire the Cybermen so much. Additionally, I think I can be quite alien in the amount of acid I seem to have running through my veins. Surely it's not healthy for someone to have such a cynical, scathing opinion on everything? Especially at this age? It was often remarked that I could be unnecessarily harsh about people/events whilst at school, but aren't you meant to lose that?

Yet, despite all of my 'alien' qualities, there's still a part of me that yearns to be Simon Le Bon, singing songs about commiting ladies to celuloid whilst riding yachts and drinking silly-coloured cocktails. All of this whilst being exceptionally well dressed and surrounded by mysterious women. This is also the part of me that loves being hideously flamboyant and eccentric (much like The Doctor actually!), whilst revelling in the cheesiness of things and knowing that your being hideously cheesy at the same time. I also admire the fact that amidst all this cheesy decadance, Duran Duran manage to construct themselves as 'serious' musicians that spend ages fretting over chord changes and lyrics. Or do I admire Simon Le Bon for the simple fact that he manages to project the image that he's a hit with the ladies? Or perhaps, at the end of the day, I do just really like Duran Duran's music?

As a result, what does this say about my opinion of myself? A once human, probable New Romantic, Time Lord who has sacrificed his body parts and emotions for cybernetics and cold logic, and that has a strange hybrid of acidic blood which boils over occasionally? All of this whilst being smartly presented and a bit of a pretensious arse?

Alternatively, is this all in my own delusional head? Have I really got the wrong impression of myself, and the way I construct myself to others? Does the fact that I seem to spend so much time thinking about this make me hideously self-obssesed? Damn post-structuralism and autoethnography! They give me too much to think about, as I seem to apply these principles to everything and everyone, thus leading me to my big question: if we live in a world of discourses, where all is culturally constructed, how can we do anything that is genuine?

Countdown:

Days left at work: 70
Days until The Christmas Invasion: 5 months and 19 days (approx.)
Days until Jessica Alba in a catsuit: 17

Music Plus One

2005-07-02T13:17:00.000+01:00

It's frustrating when time just seems to disappear and you never get the things done that you wanted to. It's also frustrating when you spend most of your time dithering around trying to remember what the hell it was you wanted to do. Furthermore, it's frustrating when your sister telephones you in the middle of Cardiff with "important news", only to gloat that she's off to see Oasis tomorrow and that you could have come but, oh yes, you're working. However, none of this probably comes close to the sheer tragicness of trying to organize your shopping with the time(s) the attractive cashier is likely to be working in Sainsbury's. Who says us SF fans have nothing to think about and have slight stalker-esque character traits, eh? Last time I was in there, her name badge said 'Gareth'. I really should have made a joke of this, but then again I'd have probably come across as a bit of an idiot. Anyways, if that is her name, it's a bit of a turn-off.

In the absence of much Who to think about, my attentions have turned back towards music, and it was much to my surprise when the other nite I finally started to make some inroads into my Dire Straits songbook. Sharp intake of breath I know. Why, dear sentient beings, do I own a Dire Straits book? Well, a) it's for Brothers in Arms, which I view as one of my favourite albums of all-time, and b) it's pretty complicated! One of the main problems I have with buying indie bands music books is that they're all pretty standard three or four chord runarounds with the occasional nice twist. The exceptions to this rule being the Bluetones and Idlewild, who seem to like to do things a bit differently. I'm yet to assess bands like Razorlight, Kasabian etc on these criterion, but watching them play live it seems they're more about attitude and ambiance than wierd timings and playing in odd keys. Yes, you could probably level exactly the same criticism at the Killers, but the bands formely mentioned haven't written anything as glorious as Mr Brightside or All These Things That I've Done.

On the subject of new bands though, I've stumbled across a couple of oddities. Firstly, there's My Chemical Romance, who seem, by their videos and press, to be the kind of band that I should have gotten over whilst I was in puberty. However, I really like the singles by them and am considering their album. It could well be a case of Evanesence and Linkin Park all over again, as I always get "Dude, what are you? A sixteen-year old Goth?" when confessing to liking these bands. Granted, they'll probably never ascend to the heights of the House, or write a Distant Sun in that respect, but they're pretty scathing about contemporary society.

Secondly though, there's Hard-Fi. A band that, by their very look, should be the type of band that I instantly despise. Let's look at the evidence: they're from chav-centric Staines, their current single sounds like the kind of riff you dismisively bash out when having your first jam with a band, and their singer looks like a gimp whilst the rest of them are just wallpaper. Yet for some reason I like the track and I don't really know why. There's a certain simplicity about the whole thing, both musically and lyrically, that makes you think that maybe you're making your own life a little too hard on purpose. Bloody hell, I bet they never thought when they wrote the track it'd be used by somebody to assess their stance on life. Or am I just subscribing to the chav mentality?!? Ugh, the very thought makes my skin crawl! Whichever train of thought wins, whoever decided to include JD Sports in the video is just asking for trouble.

So, as I sit here desperatly trying to make my mind up what to vote for in the DWM magazine poll, I'm left with the following questions: Did I really enjoy Boom Town more than The Parting of the Ways, Dalek and The Doctor Dances? Do Father's Day and The Unquiet Dead deserve to be so low in the rankings? Who was better as a co-star: Simon Pegg or Shaun Dingwall? Were the Reapers better than the Daleks? And what did I really make of the trailers?

Decisions, decisions. Good job I've Senor Corgan's new opus to help pass the time...

Reflection of Summers Past

2005-06-28T22:13:00.000+01:00

"Pining for the moon/ and what if there were two
Side by side in orbit/ across the fairer sun?"

A favourite lyric from one of my all-time favourite songs. The kind of track that you want played at your funeral and that anyone who really knows you knows how much you love that particular track. It also seems relevant for the mood I've found myself in over the last couple of days, accenuated by a conversation I had with someone that went on to the small hours of yesterday evening. A slight lament for the past and a face you haven't seen for a little while but would like to in the near future. Yes, I'm feeling slightly reflective, but this is also probably due to the fact that I'll be encountering two good friends from Glorious Devon in the space of two days. As the mysterious "they" rightly observe, things happen all at once. Anyways, this has got me to thinking as to why we occasionally, or reguarly, look back to the past. Is it because we think that we've lost something, or someone, that meant something more to us than we realsied at the time? Or is it because we're so scared of what the future holds,and so would rather reflect on something that was safe? As Freud observed, it is the unknown, the uncanny, which is most horrific and perhaps that applies to many areas of life.

OK, Deep Thought off. Shall I condense this months DWM into a paragraph? No? Well, I'm gonna do it anyways. Series Two has two episodes with working titles: 'School Reunion' and 'Army of Ghosts'. So what do we gleam from that? Well, School Reunion would indicate to me that perhaps the Doctor takes Rose into the future, to see all her friends in ten or twenty years time. Not quite sure what the villany would be there, but perhaps there's something sinister working behind the scenes? Perhaps, Friends Reunited is actually run by aliens? As for AoG, well that sounds pretty epic, what with the word 'Army' in the title. So will the dead be rising from their graves in their hordes? Or perhaps it's a referance to ghosts from the past? Perhaps one character will have to face a number of faces from their history? Interesting...

Oh, and apparently my beloved Cybermen are in the directorial hands of James Hawes, who did The Empty Child and The Doctor Dances last year, which I'm pleased about. Slightly annoyed Mr. Harper won't be tackling them but nevermind. However, if this apparently forms Block One of shooting with The Christmas Invasion, does this mean we're gonna start the season with the guys? Two thumbs up from CyberControl if that is the case!

On a different note, I actually found justificaton for watching The OC this evening: George was making a cameo appearance. It's so much better than having to admit that, yes, you just want to ogle the lovely Rachel Bilson. Anyways, George's cameo was hideous. Instead of some profound musings on what inspires George, and where he got his ideas from, we get him musing on the importance of the American Prom and the cornerstones of American youth culture. Why George? Why? Anyways, I gotta hand it to that programme because, like Dawson's Creek before it, it may be hideously cliched and sickeningly saccherine, but the writing, story arcs, and characterization are so spot-on and well thought out that it deserves applause. The kind of things that the UK is really behind on in that respect. The episode wonderfully set up four or five narratives that occasionally inter-cut, but were satisfyingly resolved, with some original twists that at the same time left consequences for episodes still to come. That, I respect, or am I just seeking a way to justify a voyeristic appreciation of Ms. Bilson? Of course not, I'm a serious TV writer!

Finally, I'm getting worried I may have to invest in the new Coldplay CD. After four years of Chris Martin hating and generally dissing them for being overtly simplistic, I heard Fix You and again had to admit its ace. I'll still never retract my opinion on In My Sodding Place though.

"You/ I thought you knew me
You/ I can not judge"

2005-06-26T23:35:00.000+01:00

Dear readers, the lovely Holly. The future Queen of CyberControl, well, until someone real comes along that is.

One Week On

2005-06-26T22:43:00.000+01:00

It just feels so empty. So crushingly, disappointingly empty. I had a perfectly pleasent day yesterday, enjoying witty conversation with my parents and having to come to terms with a tricky dilemma when tackling the HMV sale: when faced with two from the list of either contemporary, respected electronica, a collection of horror films that are so appauling they border on genius, or three CDs of Phil, which one would you, or could you, sacrifice? Unfortunately Phil was the loser this time around, but I hope it'll only be for a little. Throughout the course of the day though, I managed to go the majority without even thinking about it, as long as we don't count watching The Awakening at 8am on UK Gold and my minor frustration at the price of a certain DVD in the previously mentioned sale.

And then it hits you. Its about 1815 on Saturday evening and rather than being a bundle of nerves and expectations, eagerly awaiting 1900 and that familiar theme tune, you're instead left with nothing. Skidaddle. Zero. In fact, what you've got is some new lottery-related quiz show or something. So you sit there, and you rack your brains for something to do but nothing comes. In fact, do you know what I was doing yesterday at 1900? I was assembling a chair! Yes, me. Mr. Truly Dreadful at DIY (Tm) was trying to fill the void left in his life left by the absence of Who by assembling furniture. From speechless geek to a hyper-exertion of masculinity in seven short days. Who said SF fandom holds us back? Oh, and the final irony: who was I listening to whilst indulging in my seat-related shenanigans? Phil, that's who.

So, with less Who to talk about during this fallow period, my attention shall have to turn to other shows to either celebrate or berate. First up, I've been meaning to sing the praises of MTV's Wonder Shozen for a while now. It's superb! Imagine the sicklyness of Sesame Street done for the disaffected, left-wing liberals of today and played completely seriously. So you get such wondeful asides as kids chasing Bankers (and yes, the pun/innuendo was intended) down Wall Street asking if they feel guilty about selling people down the river. Or such informative sections as 'D is for Drive-by Shooting' or 'S is for Suicide'. Absolute genius.

Something I was much less impressed with was when I had the misfortune to wander momentarily on to ITV2 this evening. Now, my hatred of those three initials, 'I' 'T' and 'V' in that order, is well-known but if the mother channel is one huge, steaming turd then its lesser-known sister is surely the televisual equivalent of diarrohea: the waste of the waste. I'm happy to report that this thesis was backed up by stumbling across the show Man Versus Beast, and yes, its exactly as it sounds. Men are pitted in various challenges against animals, and what did I have the 'pleasure' of witnessing? Fourty-four midgets, sorry 'small people' for the sake of political correctness, challenged to pull a jumbo jet across a set distance quicker than an Asian Elephant. Yes, you read that correctly. The midgets against the Elephant. Unfortunately, the small people were defeated and, at the end, the Elephant looked rather smug about this. Like it knew what was going on! Granted, this show was American, and the presenter was wearing a jacket with Fox emblazened across it, which is litterally like having 'crap' written on something, but for goodness sake! More worryingly so, Man was 4-2 down to Beast bythe end of the show so obviously we aren't as intellegent as we'd perhaps like to think. I can't wait for the British version, it could well be the much-needed humiliation of the population of Kent! I'd imagine they're the type of people who'd watch such drivel.

Crumbs, its gonna be a long six months until The Christmas Invasion. I did have a great idea as to how they could start the episode though: since RTD's first announcement about the Christmas special was along the lines of "Don't worry, we're not gonna do a Lovejoy and go to Prague", why not have the pre-credits sequence with the TARDIS arriving in Prague and DT coming out to announce something like 'Oh, Prague! Why on Earth are we here?" and then roll the credits. It'd be an inspired joke for the fans and adult viewers!

Once more dear reader, in my head it's funny.

The FutureNow

2005-06-23T21:52:00.000+01:00

"It's not me, to make a fuss
It's just that the water's cold and I can't feel my legs"

I don't mean to start with an apology, but I feel it necessary: I'm sorry about Vitriol #1 that appeared earlier this week. It's been deleted from The Matrix Data Banks as its not really me to let things like that out. When Deep Thought powers up the output belongs in a place in my head, not in public. Thus, I think the above quote, lifted from The Cooper Temple Clause (where the hell are they?), sums up the way I was feeling. I've come up with the excuse that I'm suffering from some form of post-Who trauma at present, not knowing what to fill my Saturdays (or life?) with.

Anyways, as previously alluded to, I visted Cardiff Barfly for the first time in ages to watch a gig on Tuesday. What follows is my twopennyworth opinion:

Xfm Xposure: The Rakes/ Martini Henry Rifles/ Captain Black
Cardiff Barfly, Tues 21st June

Upon venturing down to the sweaty environment of Barfly upon the hottest day of the year so far, or since yesterday at least, I was firstly taken aback by the amount of people present. My sources had informed me that they weren't expecting a great crowd, hence my place on the guestlist, and, at the end of the day, who really wants to be stuck beneath ground with no windows when its sweltering outside? The answer: quite a few people, since Xfm is Cardiff for a short period. What's more, they've bought a few friends along to say Hi.

First up on the bill were Captain Black, a three-piece post-punk Indie trio who reminded you of the Pixies in places, and a whole host of other bands in the others. Obviously suffering from the problems of "people to cool to come close to the front" syndrome, the band did their best to entice the audience, securing two ardant fans and not letting them both pee at the same time. Slightly harsh, but anything that manages to make your band seem popular has gotta be a good idea. The band themselves rattled through a number of interesting tracks, often starting in one form and then changing into a different beast halfway through to keep things interesting. Add in the singer's knack for interchanging between singing and angrily shouting the lyrics on a line-by-line basis and they evoced a memory of Captain-era iDLEWiLD in this reviewer. In fact, if they'd have ended their set with the penultimate song, a touching ballad involving just man, guitar and voice, I'd have been even more interested in them. It was a shame that everything was ruined then by the last song, when, as the singer collapsed on stage, writhing around like Kurt used to, it became crushingly evident that rather than wanting to be their own band, they actually just wanted to be another Nirvana-wannabe. Shame.

The first encounter I had with the Martini Henry Rifles was on my twenty-first birthday a couple of years ago, when they played a DJ set at Clwb and were thoroughly dull, playing only songs they wanted to hear and that they thought were funny. Moreover, from that, and the performance tonight, the lasting image you get of the band is that they obviously think their the most important thing in the world, if not the Universe, since they swagger around with the air that they should be headlining proceedings. Fair enough, there's enough of the local Indie crowd here to back up that claim, so it's a shame then that you come to realise that they're just a plie of tosh. The songs are hectic and unmemorable, usually involving one member twidling a knob on a synthesiser, one member playing something frantic and singing, sorry, shouting, something probably quite obscene down the microphone whilst the other charges into the crowd to give everyone intimidating looks. Granted, the fact that one of these charges almost resulted in your reviewer having his eye flicked out by a trailing microphone stand, but I'm afraid that arrogance, intimidating stares and subscribing to the "swearing is cool" scheme don't make up for decent songs here, even if they probably think that they're being really cutting edge. Couple that with the fact that one of the band looks like the guy from Tears for Fears who know one remembers, and they start to loose their 'cool' edge. It's also a sorry state of affairs when the only positive you can write about a band is that they best thing they played was in the last two minutes, when they'd effectivly left the stage and the synthesiser was mimicing the beginning to REM's Electron Blue.

And so we came to The Rakes, just as I was about to lose hope and go home to listen to Together Alone and Siamese Dream and remember how good music can be. From what I'd heard and read on the band's website I was expecting an ultra-serious, sharp-suited lot that looked, and sounded, somewhere between Interpol being fronted by Alex from Franz Ferdinand. This was backed up by the imposing height of the microphone stands that had been set up. Another band with a 'towering' personality I thought. It was much to my surprise, and pleasure, that when the band emerged they reminded me more of The Housemartins in their look than Franz Ferdinand. That thought continued as they played through their first few tracks, all bouncy rhythms and catchy melodies that finally got the people moving. Introducing one song as 'a nice romantic one for the ladies' was a bit of a mistake though. It was hardly Snow Patrol's Run, but then again their really not that type of band. It was also refreshing to see a singer who obviously enjoyed being where he was: all silly hand movements, witty asides between songs and a knowing glint in his eye that he wasn't to be taken too seriously. Nowhere near the 'bit-of-a-gimp' persona someone had previously mentioned.

The problem with seeing a band first-hand like this though is that you never really get the chance to engage with the lyrics as, nine times out of ten, you can't actually pick them out, and this was a shame as I'm sure they had some interesting things to say. For that, I'll have to wait for the album but for now it seems as though The Rakes's star is definately on the ascendance if the hyper-pogoing crowd is anything to go by. And why shouldn't it be? They've got a sound that's popular at the moment and an individuality that works to set them aside from all of the other bands in their field. It'll be interesting to see how they come to differ themselves from their peers, as they're similar to both the jerky, angular sound of The Futureheads, the current art-rock crowd (Franz, Bloc Party) and the wave of sub-Clash revivalists (Dead 60s, Hard-Fi) around at the moment, but I look forward to tracking their progress. What's more, I look forward to the album, and even would've bought a t-shirt if they weren't so darn pricey!

As the Ways are about to Part...

2005-06-18T11:58:00.000+01:00

So this is it. Thirteen weeks ago it was all apprehension, sick feelings in the stomach and worries that they'd get the tone wrong, be slaughtered by Ant and Dec and that, after so much promise, the good Doctor would still be something of a point of ridicule. How wrong was I? We've got the Guardian proclaiming it the best thing to happen to British television for years. We've got the highest audience shares for Saturday evening, and ratings that buck the trend for Saturday evening family television. We've got people admiring the special effects, noting how the sets don't wobble and the monsters are 'better' (personally speaking, I think one of the redeming factors of Terror of the Vervoids is the design of the titular menace, but thats just me). We've talk of BAFTA nominations for certain episodes. We've got kids running around shouting 'Exterminate' and telling their parents they'd rather have the Daleks on DVD than whatever else kids watch these days. Most importantly we've got two more series in the bag, and two Christmas specials, which will see the return of the Cybermen and Graeme Harper behind the camera.

So am I satisfied? Yes, and no. Yes, we've achieved everything, and a whole lot more, than I hoped for thirteen weeks ago. I've got people coming up to me at work commenting on how much they're enjoying the series. I've got people asking me what I think of certain things. I've got people I respect contacting me after episodes to let me know they thought it kicked ass. Yes, it seems Who is back where it should be: culturally important and respected. However, the doubts never go away: yes, we have a third series now, but is that just so that ideas can be developed over two series, thus allowing for a thorough review of the programme at the end of series three? I mean, tele-sf doesn't seem to last that long in the UK. Randall and Hopkirk and Strange didn't make it past three series. Additionally, what if people don't take to David Tennant? Granted, he's been ace in the things I've seen, but there's always a chance. Moreover, the BBC has decreed that cutbacks have to be made on the programme, so could this have a negative impact? Furthermore, how on Earth - or should that be the Universe? - will ITV react? I'm sure they've something thoroughly unoriginal and sneaky up their sleeves.

My biggest thought at present though is 'I want in on this, now'. I'm brimming with ideas at the minute! Well, five anyway. Two of these I've previously disclosed, but I'm also working on ideas such as tying together the Mara, the work of William Blake, and the 60s state education system in to a story where the Mara reappears in 60s Britain due to the mood of the time and the National Cirriculum. Then there's my personal fave: taking the wonderful, vain, self-obsessed Jagoroth and writing an Invasion of the Body Snatchers style piece where they end up in the world of today, admire the selfishness and vanity of Western society, and settle in perfectly. In the end, they use their natural carisma to ascend to positions of power and enslave the humans. All this, and humanity doesn't even realise therefore noting how 'alien' humans have become. However, my novel twist on this would be to tell the story from the point of view of the Jagoroth, thus having them musing on such things as McDonalds, The OC and other aspects of contemporary life. Well, in my head its funny. However, my problem is where I can get in on this: I need a foothold somewhere, for someone to read these ideas and deside that their not half bad. Or maybe that they're not a quarter-bad, but with a bit of bashing about they could become not half bad. Is there anybody out there that can help?

So, with only seven hours until those Ways are Parted I can't wait to see how this pans out. I realised the other day this will be the first regeneration I'll have experienced 'first-hand'; in that respect I'm a regeneration virgin, if you know what I mean! I remember when I saw the end of Androzani and first experienced the idea, and it was immense. Granted, that that's the best of all the previous regenerations, with Colin Baker uttering the best dialogue he has for his whole stay as the Doctor, but how will this weigh up? If its as stirring and defiant as Eccleston's rant against the Daleks at the end of Bad Wolf, it'll be superb. Oh yeah, and finally, there've been a few rumblings against the Daleks utterance of'What is the meaning of this negative' last week. Apparently this was considered camp in some circles. What would people have preferred? The Daleks turn around and go 'Ooooh, hark at you' to the Doctor?

The Promise of a Warning

2005-06-15T22:50:00.000+01:00

I've been meaning to post the following for a little while now, as I think they really do deserve to be read. It was Michael Stipe who introduced me to the idea of writing lyrics down and sharing them with people because, in his opinion, it allows the words to breathe and, consequentially, take on new and different meanings. Now, these that follow are by no means mine. They're taken from a track on the latest iDLEWiLD masterpiece, 'Warnings/ Promises', thats in all good, and probably a number of less-than-good, record shops now. However, to me, it showcases this band's uncanny knack of writing tracks that I feel really reflect either the way I feel at a certain point in time (Low Light, American English) and in general (I'm Happy to Be Here Tonight, Little Discourage, The Bronze Medal, Live in a Hiding Place). This track? Well, it's a little of both. So read, contemplate, read again if you must, and let me know what you think. At the end of the day, I just hope you enjoy what follows.

BLAME IT ON OBVIOUS WAYS

All the mistakes I've made
I've made because
I didn't really know myself very well
And by this stage
I feel like I really shouldn't know myself
I'm forced into a sponsored silence
Where I'm only paid if I don't say
What I want to say

Open up your arms and say, "I can't throw it all away"
Open up your arms and say, "I can't give it all away"
I couldn't even care what you'll say
You change
You change everyday
And blame it on your obvious ways

I gamble my praises
And fill the jukebox full of my favourite phrases
As we cling to the nightclub walls
We whisper the words
We whispered them wrong
And so we screamed out the wrong words
In to our own song
And with a kiss that tasted like drugs
Which tastes like we'll never, ever make it home

Open up your arms and say, "I can't throw it all away"
Open up your arms and say, "I can't give it all away"
I couldn't even care what you'll say
You change
You change everyday
And blame it on your obvious ways

Throw me around
First you've got to calm me down
Don't you think you
Should calm me down before you throw me around?

You throw me in to another move I came and make
It changes everyday
Open up your arms and say, "Give it all away"
I couldn't even care what you'll say
You change
You change everyday
And blame it on your obvious ways

(Woomble, Jones, Stewart, Fox, Newton (2005))

Wolf at the Door

2005-06-11T12:42:00.000+01:00

Once more it seems I am behind schedule, and I apologise for that dear readers. This post was supposed to go up yesterday, seen as though I spent all day at work musing over it, but due to a nasty encounter with the air-conditioning I have developed the flu and so spent yesterday evening sneezing and ommiting a low-frequency groaning noise. As a result, today's intended post concerning iDLEWiLD, the Jagoroth, the Mara and the BBC Radiophonic Workshop will have to be delayed a little.

Anyways, with the imminent transmission of the 'revelation' episode Bad Wolf this evening, I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring with some ideas concerning the season's narrative enigma. Firstly, lets examine the evidence: the 'Bad Wolf' tag has so far been used in relation to two seperate comments, some graffiti, a security sign, a TV station, a poster, a bomb and a power station. Now by the law of averages some of these are going to be red herrings and I feel the biggest one of these is the graffiti on the TARDIS. In my opinion its just too obvious. However, the term seems to be related to some form of 'device', whether that be human or otherwise. So could it be a situation? An event? A 'thing' (for want of a better word)? A person? The BBC website points to the latter, and something archaic at that due to its references to ancient mythologies. This, naturally, points to The Doctor as he is over 900 years old and, by definition, an alien and therefore mysterious. So if the revelation does relate to the Doctor it could be interesting as it would help to add to the mysticism of the character for further seasons. After all, the criticism of the series as it ended in 1989 was that he had lost any form of mysticism and thus become over-familiar. This would also fit in well with the Time War theme, as he could be responsible for some action that he's trying to avoid.

However, I would ideally like to see the revelation to relate to either Mickey or Adam. Now Mickey's been a bit of a stooge over the whole series and, in all honesty, he got on my nerves something chronic in Rose. However, after Boom Town I've changed my opinion as I felt some form of graviats in his character. Moreover, he's certainly got motivations: The Doc pinched his lady and he might want revenge. Furthermore, it might explain why The Doctor refers to him as Ricky; is he not really what he seems. Alternatively, it could refer to Adam because, and as the BBC site points out, he downloaded the entire history of humanity into his head during The Long Game and could well use that. Plus he doesn't like the Doctor since he dumped him back on Earth with a hole in his head. Additionally, he's familiar with the Daleks; could they possibly track him down?!? The only flaw in this idea is the fact that Bruno Langley is listed nowhere in the cast list for the two episodes, so unless a wonderful secret has actually been concealed, this would be wrong.

What's more, we are apparently promised the return of a character from Dalek History (perhaps this should be a new GCSE topic. Can you imagine it? "Mum, I don't wanna do History, I wanna do Dalek history, its far more interesting"!). We're assured it's not The Master, nor another Time Lord (but Omega would've been v cool), neither is it Fenric (?!?). Thus, its gotta either be Davros or the Supreme Dalek. I really hope its the latter, as to re-introduce Davros would see the Daleks get bogged down in all that continuity from the past, and that could be really rather messy, especially when the programme is already in a state of transistion (more on that next time). Of course, I could've made a gross miscalculation but personally I think it'd be cool to see a character not seen since the almighty Evil of the Daleks.

Aside from that, there are questions to answer regarding the cliffhanger at the end of the episode: what will it be? The revaltion of the Daleks as the plotters? Hopefully not, since that was given away by the trailer at the end of Boom Town. Perhaps the revelation of the Bad Wolf enigma? Probably, especially if this relates to one of the main characters or theories I've forwarded above. Or maybe the revelation of the 'returning character'? That would make for a great dramatic ending, and be very different to the two previous cliffhangers we've had. Either one of those will do! However, knowing the episode is in the directorial hands of Joe Aherne counts for a lot. His work has been expcetional so far, so let's just see how things go...

On a different note, I feel there's a storm of abuse for RTD brewing in the fandom for the way he represents the Daleks. I mean, this is why Terry Nation's estate were reluctant to use them in the series after all, and there are bound to be comparisons to Rob Shearman's superb re-examination of the Dalek Condition. So prepare for abuse on their behaviour, dialogue, general menace, and anything else that can possibly be picked apart. Personally, I'll be interested to see the Dalek ships and how they're designed in comparison to their crafts in Rememberance, Revelation and Resurrection etc.

Oh, and just one final note: you can tell Who is cool again. On eBay you can bid for buttons of psychadelic Cybermen and Scaroth. Ah, the Jagoroth. More on them next time...

Neglecting my Responsibilities

2005-06-05T22:22:00.000+01:00

Dear Reader, I feel as though I should perhaps apologise as it appears that somewhere along the way we've got a little lost. Not very good seen as though this has only been going a matter of weeks, is it really? It seems as though I've gotten rather bogged down with dwelling on questions of life and philosophy and thus neglected the true focus of this journal: Doctor Who! I never posted my review of The Doctor Dances, which is a shame as it was one of the most enjoyable pieces of television I've seen in ages, with an ending that bordered on the euphoric. Couple that with one of Richard Wilson's best-ever comedy lines - that from an advocate of Mr Meldrew and his One Foot in the Grave - and you truly had a great piece of family entertainment. However, that didn't prepare me for the immensity of Boom Town. I had fears about the episode in all honesty, bad pre-comments from the fan community hadn't helped, but perhaps when your expectations are lowered you're more open to surprise as this was fantastic. I'd waited eleven weeks for a good, thoughtful, well written character study and just when you aren't expecting it, along one comes and reminds you how great the series has been! Intellegently dwelling on the aftermath of a situation, and whether you could lead someone to their death, is the kind of story I'd have loved to have written for the show! Moreover, its good to see the series developing some new mysticism about the Doctor and, in this instance, the TARDIS as it breeds scope for the long-term direction of the show. Couple that with the fantastic intensity of Eccleston in places and you had a really unexpected treat.

However, there's news I've overlooked. Big news. In fact, its news so fantastic that it deserves the title of BIG NEWS. Oh yes, as of next year, they'll be back. Who? None other than the Cybermen! Hurrah! I'm so pleased as, after the fantastic work done in reinventing the Daleks, I can't wait to see what RTD and team will do with the Best Sci-Fi Villains in the History of TV Sci-Fi (TM). You dispute this fact? Well, the Borg completely ripped off the Cybermen all you Trekkies. Let's just hope for a nice bleak story showing how very evil they can be, and no car-headlights on the head if you please. I think its time we had a quote. After three: "We are called Cy-ber-men!" Think I'll go and watch The Tenth Planet shortly.

All I can hope for now is a third series, and judging by the intellegence displayed on Saturday, if by some strange occurance you're reading this Russell, sir, and fancy commissioning an intellegent piece on ethnic cleansing I have one by name of The Drowning Pool. Or if you're looking to bring back the Sontarons, I have a great idea for a story concerning them which engages with current debates surrounding cloning and faulty genes. In fact Faulty Genes sounds like a hell of title for the story. I'm rather awash with inspiration at the moment, as my other project is benefitting well from at present, but that's a different story.

All that and the trailer for Bad Wolf looked pretty good as well, apart from well done BBC for concealing the fact that the Daleks are back again. Not. If anyone has been irresponsible with this series, its been the dear corporation, and it does pain me to slate the best broadcasting organization in the world.

Cheap Shots, Expensive Drinks, and the Girl in the Leather Trousers

2005-06-02T22:40:00.000+01:00

It's been a good number of years since The Best Rock Band in the World (TM) identified that from time to time everybody hurts, and that when faced with these instances its best to seek some solace in those closest to you: your friends. Now, whilst I feel that this has become something of a cliche over time, I'm happy to report that there is still some form of truth in the statement. You see, over the past few weeks I hadnt been feeling especially great or clever. I hadn't been sleeping, or eating, much. I'd been working a lot. I'd been feeling a lot more discouraged and lonely than I usually do. I was having some pretty severe dizzy spells as well. In fact, there were a couple of instances when I thought I was beginning to look a little like a cross between Tom Baker and the singer from My Chemical Romance. Couple that with the creeping paranoia that something wasn't quite right in the world, and its no surprise I was experiencing some form of dementia (if that's the operative word).

However, there's nothing like a reunion with your closest, and most endearing, friends to make you feel a hell of a lot more positive: you realise that the same jokes that were funny, possibly up to three years ago, still have some form of resonance, you realise that you can turn up and do or say whatever you feel and it won't be judged, you know that everyone is growing in to that which they always threatened to become, whether that be flash-boy Surrey type or, in my instance, a slightly off-beat writer type. Whilst I'd have like to have thought the insult 'And your Mum' might have been relegated to the playground of comebacks in favour of something better, I suppose there will always be some things that your stuck with.

Its also nice to see that with age, you're moving into the better drinking establishments. Granted, there are still some dingy holes, and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible to Metros, that you'll frequent for a good few years, but its also nice to see people willing to step into the air-conditioned, faux-utopias of alcohol us journalists seem to like to frequent. All that and they've got a videoscreen of a fire playing as well. Is that cool, or is that just me? However, its also good to know that you can return to the watering hole you called 'Home' for the best part of two years and pretend you never really left or grew more cynical, showing off the same impressions of celebrities that don't age in the same way as the wine you're drinking.

Finally, it's good to know that additions can be made, and openly welcomed, into the old dynamic. Additions that are easy and pleasent to talk to, laugh at the stories dredged up from the past and seem genuinly interested in what you've got to say, giving you hope that one day you might meet someone cast from a similar mould. Moreover, its comforting to know that you can go out, desensitise some of your inhibitions and see girls like the ones that appear in your head: like something out of a strange Goth Rock Opera, all leather trousers, heavy eyeliner and can't-be-fucked graces that hides an Amy Lee-style vulnerability beneath the surface. Or that's what you'd like to think about them in your head.

At the end of the day, it's jsut nice to feel like you belong once more. Even if it is just for 48 hours...

Is it Wrong to Want to Change the World?

2005-05-31T15:05:00.000+01:00

Okay, I'll be honest that this post was supposed to be put up last Thursday but due to social encounters its been pushed back. I've now however found myself with lots to say and probably three posts in a day so I feel some, if not all, might not get read at all. I'll just have to hope that sanyone reading is dedicated enough.

I was catching the bus to work early this (Thursday) morning and a strange thought occured to me: why do so many kids and adults dress and act the same way? This thought came from the amount of (annoying) kids there were on the bus today who, obviously, had a non-uniform day at their respective schools. They were all dressed like something out of either a very cliched hip-hop video, or someone they'd seen on the pages of Heat magazine, and they were about twelve! It just got me thinking about what people must aspire to today. Is there nobody left these days that wants to better the cards theyve been dealt by life? I mean, granted, we're all born with certain circumstances that we can't deny, but that doesn't mean that we're stuck with that role forever? Doesn't anyone want to make their mark? Doesn't anyone want to change the world, and, more importantly is it wrong to want to?

I would certainly like to think that I had the potential to do something worthwhile in my life, so that in some shape or form my name would linger a little after it amounts to nothing more than an engraving on a stone monument somewhere. I'd also like to think that that is actually starting to happen. After all, I've now had my first mention in an academic text book! Granted, it's only a mention on the acknowledgments page of the new book by A Man Much Greater than I, but its a start! However, as you'll come to realise dear reader, I like to think a number of things.

And there is my inherent problem: my disgusting lack of self-confidence in myself and my abilities. I'm becoming aware that I can probably make a difference, or a mark nonetheless, to this world in some shape or form but my problem is I need some people or somebody to help me. I can't do this by myself. As Shed Seven rightly observed all those years ago "I've got high hopes, all I need is your hand to steady my feet". That's exactly the situation I feel I'm in. I'd like to think I've got a couple of people there but, as with anything in life, you can never really be sure. On that note though I'd like to thank my first reader of this page for their thoughts. It's always nice to know that you're gaining an audience.

However, this thought led me to thinking about why, and in what form exactly, I want to leave a mark on the world, and I managed to boil this motivation to one of three things: power, money or respect. For me, its not power thats driving me. I don't want control of anyone, or anything, in particular. Power breeds corruption and egos; people who think they're more than a decaying pool of matter want power because they feel inadequate about themselves in some form. Anyways, in the words of Hope of the States, "Don't make me a leader, I'll lead you all wrong". Neither do I want money in excessive amounts either. I grew up in a household where, whilst money wasn't a problem, I was often lead to believe that it was and so have seen the problems that it breeds. In fact, if I start earning more than I actually need I'd like to do something with it that is worthwhile. I'm quite happy with a decent house somewhere and a small car that won't harm the environment too much. No, what's motivating me is respect. Definately. I want people to turn around and respect me and my views; to view me as someone who stood for what he believed in and had something decent and interesting to say on things. Its something I stand by throughout life: if people respect me, I'll do the same to them. I think it's the single most important thing in the world and, unfortunately, we don't seem to live in a society where there is much of it. Too many people are willing to judge others due to something that they don't understand, whether it be something big like religion or race, or something small like a hobby or interest. I think we could all do with a little more tolerance, dear reader. Don't you?

And Now My Fears, They Come to Me in Three

2005-05-24T13:02:00.000+01:00

Just read a few things about the end of the current series of Who that have got me slightly worried. They are as follows:

1) Billie's leaving. Bugger. It's bad enough that for the new series the audience has to adjust to someone new playing the Doctor, but it seems as though they've then gotta adjust to losing their only other reference point in the series very quickly as well. In short it seems as though after a glorious rebirth, people are then left back at square one, not knowing who any of the main characters are, and that's not good at all. Personally speaking, I'll really miss Billie as I think she's done a fantastic job as Rose, bringing a real warmth and endearingness to the role. It makes me worry how they're gonna introduce a new companion and how they will relate to the Doctor, as I don't think they'll try and redo the whole love/friends thing again.

2) The audience figures dropped for 'The Empty Child'. It's times like this I really wish ITV would roll over and die. They've realised that they can't win viewers by providing softcore porn for the chav population, and so play the sneakiest card possible by placing the Star Wars films against the current series. Why, oh good god why, can't they realise that there's an audience for sci-fi fans at that time, but there's also an audience for different types of DECENT entertainment as well and that both audiences can be satisfied if they make an effort, rather than having to resort to simple 'stealing viewers' tactics. 6.5 Million viewers isn't great for Who, and what with the upheaval going on behind the scenes, and a feeling of being less than impressed with some of the new writers for the second series, I'm not feeling positive at present.

3) The cast for the series finale. I've recently learned that Davina McCall and Trinny and Susanna are in the last two episodes. Oh hell. There I was hoping for this epic, bleak, Androzani-esque story involving the Doctor and the regeneration and instead it looks as though we've got a line of annoying tv 'celebrities' turning up. Hardly Sharaz Jek is it? I don't wanna admit defeat before it's even taken place, as that would be hypocritical against what I previously said about RTD, but little things like that make me worry. Couple that with the other two reasons identified and it's no suprise I'm feeling discouraged. I can only hope that the thoughts of a Man Much Greater Than I are correct, and it's a Revelation style story where the Daleks are secretly controling everything. If it's a media satire like the (in my opinion) excellent Long Game then we could well be ok.

Suppose I should try and be positive.

An Unearthly Child

2005-05-23T22:25:00.000+01:00

Starting this thing is probably the hardest thing to do, but then again thats probably a good metaphor for life itself. It always seems the most complex thing is getting something started, whether it be a project, an essay, a relationship or any other aspect of this short existence. It seems that the most energy that needs to be exerted is when your trying to begin anything. After that, you've really just gotta keep things running. Sure, you've got a responsibility to the thing, or person, involved, but the fear has gone. That biting, snarling fear of both a) is there any point in doing this in the first place, and b) will it be succesful? Or are you simply setting yourself up to fail again? Who knows, keep watching this space...

Today was another day. Aside from that, I can't really think of anything else to describe it. The only vaguely interesting occurance was my rememberance of how great a song 'Hercules' by Mercury Rev is. Other than that, I went to work, got sworn at by members of the public over telephone numbers, and went home. Didn't even manage to catch the eye of a certain lady in work who I'm rather fond of. I'll spare her name to protect the innocent. Also realised today that I'm coming down with the flu once more. Thought the sore throat was probably down to the alcohol consumed during Eurovision, and would probably pass. However the sneezing fit has alluded to the fact that there is something more sinister at work here.

On the up side, I've got the day off tomorrow to gather my thoughts together and watch the new Who DVD, therefore revelling in The Unquiet Dead again. That was damn good TV, as has most of the new series been. REALLY don't understand why certain areas of the Who fanbase is suddenly rounding on RTD. The man's done such good work on the show that to criticise him seems, to me at least, ungrateful. Damn, was really gonna try NOT to mention Who in the first post, aside from the title, but it seems I've done it now.

Does this set the tone well? I don't know, I'm not the one reading this. It's a strange thing writing, as you're writing in the hope that someone will catch your stuff and like it. However, when you're writing on a medium such as the internet, your potential audience could be everyone, or it could be no-one. It could be an entertaining read for many people, or it could just be a singular outlet for your own feelings. In that respect it therefore becomes quite a selfish act, writing. However, if its an outlet for thoughts, whether dark or light, that can only be a good thing. Anything that keeps you alive.

"In the morning your face cracks and falls, to the sea..."