http://librivox.org/

Public Domain audio books, a wide range of classics, read by volunteers. Hurrah! Now being well read need not interrupt my playing World of Warcraft.

As far as I recall it went like this...

Stations, the Cockpit. Two piece noisy indie. Sounds like Paul Weller, if he was really angry because someone had just keyed his new car.

Killing Field of Ontario, Cockpit Room 3. Pleasant country rock, replete occasional with Banjo, even though I don't really know what replete means and it took me three attempts to get the spelling right. They also have a mandolin, or possibly a lute, or possibly both if they are the same thing, which they might be for all I know.

Japanese Fighting Fish, The Elbow Room. I only catch a lot of screaming from their last song. This is because they are on late, not because I am here late. No coffee is available at The Elbow Room, so I wonder round the corner to McDonalds. Then I wonder round the corner a little bit more to...

The Lady and The Lost Boys, The Holy Trinity Church. I really don't remember the last time I saw a band with a name this bad. OK, I'm kidding, it was Oh! Fracas at the Library last year. They suffer a bit from what is know in the literature as church acoustics make everyone sound like a Christian rock band syndrome. And their lead singer is dressed like she's going for an interview for a secretarial post in the 1970's.

Piskie Sits, The Elbow Room. The band I meant to come to the Elbow Rooms for. Clear influence of Pavement and Sonic Youth. Good tunes. I like them a lot, they're just plain nice.

Fran Rodgers, The Holy Trinity Church. And this is what I meant to go to the Holy Trinity church for. I've said before how much I like her folksy vocals and dulcimer combo. She's playing with a band tonight, a bass/cello player and a drummer. And they don't screw everything up or anything, so it's great.

Wild Beasts, Joseph's Well. I get here early, the place is packed to the rafters and as hot as otters and they're playing Oasis at me over the PA. Pretty soon there's a one in one out queue outside the music room itself and I can't leave, even to go to the bar or toilet. On the other hand, the former isn't a problem because I'm not drinking and the later isn't a problem because I'm not drinking.
Wild Beasts are effortlessly odd. Cheery indie with falsetto vocals and percussion from a beach in Fiji. I leave to get some air before the end of the set and find a that as well as a queue for the music room, there are two hundred plus people trying to get into the venue itself.
I chat briefly to some gents whilst walking away after I overhear someone say that their last visit to Joseph's Well was for Forward Russia. Mine was too. We reminisce about how much our ears hurt the next morning. They head off to the Coc kpit, and I head off to the Met.

Brute Chorus, Leeds Metropolitan SU. Yeah, just don't really get this. Leave after two songs.

The Blacklisters, The Packhorse. Smallest venue of the day and when I open the door, the vocalist fixes me with his eyes and starts screaming at me. Which is just what I need to wake me up a bit really. Noisy screamo punk with an energetic performance. I particularly liked the bit where he stuck his head in the bass drum and started trying to sing into the drum mic.

Year of the Man, The Library. More entertaining screaming. Progressive Doom Shed or something. Metal Genres confuse me. The previous night I met a charming young girl who told me her three favorite genres were Viking Metal, Pirate Metal and Lord of The Rings Metal.

7 Hertz, The Packhorse. Neo Classical/Jazz Improv thing. Seen these guys before and they are always better in smaller venues. Here they play entirely acoustically which is ace.

I Concur, the Brudenell Social Club. Solid, tuneful alt-rock. They're one of those bands who's name I've seen regularly in local listings and a few random gig aquiantances have recommended. It is good. I drink my first beer, of the evening to celebrate the fact that The Brudenell is the cheapest venue on the list. In the park on the way back to the Library I stop to watch a hiphop band in the park and get a 99. On the other side of the park is another marquee stage with banners proclaiming it sponsored by Carpe Diem's Monday open Mic night. A pretty blonde with a guitar says, "This next song is a really romantic song, so I want you all to just turn to the person next to you and kiss them." I leave.

Monster Killed By Lazer, The Library. I arrive only to hear a few minutes of roaring guitar noise. However, judging by the the rest of the bands on at the library today, it's quite possible that their entire set was a wall of roaring guitar noise.

Chops, The Packhorse. Moz steps up to the drum kit. This guy is in so many local bands, he practically comprises his own genre. This one comprises mostly chirpy vintage synth abuse.

Brontide, The Library. Math rockers. Their drummer is striped to the waist and has a physique like Bruce Lee. He is so good that even his own bass player at one point looks at him shaking his head in disbelief at one short solo section.

Gold Teeth, The Faversham. Gobsmackingly dull middle of the road indie toss. Exactly the kind of thing I'm amazed I've been so lucky to avoid so far. I have my second beer, to celebrate the fact that I've now seen at least one band at every single venue in the programme.

Eskimo Twins, The Faversham. Techno house. I spend most of the set trying to figure out how much they are playing and how much miming. Actually, I think a fair amount of keyboard playing, albeit often one handed.

Cowtown, the Packhorse. I cannot get in. It is too busy. also I cannot get to the bar as it is full of students dressed as Wolverine. Typical Saturday night in Leeds.

Take a Worm for a Walk Week, the Library. Death metal. Matching catsuits. A dancing man dressed as a pig. Mock acts of felatio involving a microphone and random members of the audience. You know the sort of thing.

Mt. The Library. My feet hurt and I have run out of words.

I wrote and recorded an album in February. Unlike my usual plan of never finishing anything and so never releasing anything, this stuff was all done very quickly and has a messier more experimental vibe to it. Also I used a far greater variety of equipment. I usually write stuff on a computer and just add vocals. On this one you can hear:

Electric Guitar
Bass
Glockenspiel
Tin Whistle
Microkorg - mostly for the vocoder
Korg Electribe EMX-1
Bongos
Dholak
Gameboy DS with Electroplankton and Korg DS-10 Carts
Various 'found sound' type percussion 'instuments'


I went back this weekend and made a few tweaks to the mixing and added one extra tune and have now released it on www.AmieStreet.com here

http://amiestreet.com/music/reincarnationfish/science-ninja-team-go/

How Amiestreet works is that you upload a tune for free download and once it hits a certain amount of downloads, they start charging per download at $0.02 US a track, then as it's popularity increases, so does it's cost. For now it is free, but I'm hoping one day it might make me 20 quid or something. Actually I'm hoping that it will make back the 25 quid I spent on the Glockenspiel when one day I wasn't sure what I was going to write that evening.

The cover art is by Bob of course. I gave him total Carte Blanche on the design and I'm extremely pleased with what he produced, it's brilliant and eye catching, but also conceptually nothing I would have conceived.



Well, there you go. Go downloaded it and hopefully before you know it I'll be earning $0.02 a track.



*experimental edit...*

Is there a law that when making a sci-fi TV show, you must always have an episode when some mysterious force or viral infection causes the character's inhibitions to break down, causing them to drop their mental defences, speak their minds, act like children and or shag each other?

And why is it that so often you end up with a scene at the end where two characters ignore each other, nervously appologize and or say never to mention this again, even though they never interacted with each other in their stupid phases?

From City On Fire... This is from a dubbed version, so the translation may have been mangled...

The scene cuts in to a detective interrogating a shopkeeper who has just witnessed a murder.

"I told you," Says the shopkeeper, "I didn't see their faces."

"Oh yeah," Replies the 'tec, clearly a man of some shrewdness, "Then how do you know there was three of them?"

Sign here...

http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/Unworthy-Knight/

Having just seen the world premier of David Sawer and Armando Ianucci's Operetta Skin Deep, I do wonder how many people, if any, will have posted a review before me. How now is that?

On a whim I spent 30 quid on the most expensive day ticket available - one and only one was going from the front row of the dress circle. Expensive, but still half price for one of the best seats in the house. This also made me feel special.

Plotwise it's a bit like a cross between The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Face Off, but without the sex or the violence.

First, Ianucci. I don't go to the opera for laughs, I go for the music, but there are a lot of laughs here, both in the words sung and visual humour. And the humour is daft and over the top and simple, so it doesn't get in the way of the music too much. But more than individual jokes, the plotline he builds seems to have a perfect sense of the kind of ridiculous melodrama that operas should have. An example is that one character sing a lot of lines about one of his testicles... which is funny on the basis that opera singers singing rude words is funny, but when he sings that he will marry any girl who returns his missing ball, it's clever-funny in the sense that it makes you think that that's exactly the kind of plotline you expect in an opera.

Sawer's music starts with an intro which is reminiscent of Danny Elfman at his most wacky, but settles down soon enough to provide plenty of harmonic and textural interest, if no obviously hummable tunage. The music does stand up on it's own and is given plenty of oportunities to do so, memorably in the frequent operating theatre sections in the first half, where he matches the silent visual humour onstage with brooding, creepy music.

The set design isn't great in the first two acts, but the third act makes up for it in a big way, with some classic Opera North magic.

To summarize, I'd recommend this to anyone. The music may not be to everyone's tastes, but pretty much everything else will be.

No Wifi and no 3g phone reception make Nicko go crazy
No Wifi and no 3g phone reception make Nicko go crazy
No Wifi and no 3g phone reception make Nicko go crazy
No Wifi and no 3g phone reception make Nicko go crazy
No Wifi and no 3g phone reception make Nicko go crazy
No Wifi and no 3g phone reception make Nicko go crazy