Top Ten Top Tens

I’m a big fan of Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity, mostly because I can relate to the the characters’ constant desire to relate life events to music, more precisely musical ‘top threes’. At the opposite extreme is Channel Four’s constant advertising dead-horse The 50 Top door handles or whatever it is Jimmy Carr is currently preparing a greasy-smooth voice-over for. Somewhere in the middle ground I place ‘Hall of Fames’ and Top Ten’s by institutional publications such as ‘Q’ or ‘NME’, but I’m fast losing my faith in those too.

In the last week we have seen Virgin’s ‘Top 100 Rock Heroes’ and XFM’s inaugural band Hall of Fame. Sure, rock ‘n’ roll has always backed a good loser – from the bathroom death of a burger-clutching Elvis, to the ham sandwich eating Mama Cass, and the fast driving chic of Marc Bolan – but it appears the latest batch Rock Icons really are losers. I think it’s more an issue with the word ‘Hero’. Sure, Kurt Cobain’s top of the list, and as part of the Grunge generation he’s unlikely to be usurped as a rock icon for me, but the life of the rifle-weilding fame-fearer is far from ‘heroic’. Pete Doherty is second, and whilst he certainly is taking his job seriously, trying to single-handedly embody Oliver Reed, Keith Moon and Iggy Pop, he smacks more of idiocy and naivity.

The XFM’s Hall of Fame isn’t much better. XFM is giving it’s listeners the chance to induct the first band into its Hall of ‘Fame’. We have 5 bands to choose from; Nirvana, The Clash, Oasis, Muse and Radiohead. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all good bands, but what have they given us? Nirvana were the figureheads of Seattle Grunge, but go to Seattle today and you’ll see statues to the city’s favourite son Jimi Hendrix rather than any Geffen prodigy. The Clash were riding on the New Wave of Punk, and whilst ‘London’s Burning’ is iconic, few today could name any of their songs which hadn’t advertised Levi 501’s. Oasis managed to kill Britpop, perhaps the best thing to happen in English music since Punk. Radiohead gave an outlet to a disenfranchised student minority (I still love the line ‘kicking squealing Guci little piggy’), and Muse? I mean, Muse?

I’m beginning to feel a little bemused by the younger generation’s distorted view of rock’s past. I know each generation is supposed to pour scorn on new music, but I grew up listening to my parents’ vinyls, respecting what had been and placing newer artists into context. Maybe the whole Top Ten thing will ultimately eat itself – I can hear Jimmy Carr thinking up ‘witty banter’ for ‘The Top Ten Top Tens’ – but I can see a ‘Top Ten Nokia Ringtones’ being made first.

By the way, did I mention Morrissey cam third in the Top 50 Rock icons? – Heaven knows I’m miserable now…

The Idiot’s Lantern

It’s been a long time coming, but it’s here. In one of my first posts way back in February, I wrote about the BBC filming Dr Who in my street. Now the episode is going to be aired – Saturday May the 27th!

I’d probably make the world’s worst Private Eye, but I did manage to gain bits of info here and there; the episode was set in the Coronation Year, involved at least one kidnapping, involved an alien coming through the TV set, and (from Wogan: Now and Then) that Maureen Lipman, of British Telecom Advert fame, was the ‘baddy’ of the episode. Now the secret’s out, and the trailers are on-air for the episode, titled ‘The Idiot’s Lantern’. You can see my pictures of the filming here, and the BBC have some episode screenshots here. The red-brick houses are my very-own Florizel Street, as the BBC renamed it.

It’s all very exciting. As they only filmed here for a few days I assumed our street was only going to be making a cameo appearance, but judging by the trailer and episode guide it looks like most of the episode is set here.

The Tardis, Dr Who, and Billie Piper in Pink, what more could anybody ask of a street?

Watch the BBC Trailer here.

The pensioner & the DJ

Okay, so it’s been a while since I last posted, so as usual please accept my excuses in short-hand:

work, teaching, playing, scales, exam pupils, conducting, work stress, unfortunate colleagues, lesson, concerto, quintet rehearsal,exam accompanist, A-level recital, Orchestral conducting, rehearsal

So there you go, I’ve been busy. Today, however, I was struck by the genorosity of a Llanelli pensioner, who won 3.5m on the lottery, and gave it all away to family and charitable organisations. I hold this in stark contrast to BBC Radio 1 DJ Chris Moyles, whose salary was recently published in the press, who couldn’t even be bothered to drag himself out of bed this morning to host his own show because Leeds lost the pay-offs (although from his on-air outburst via telephone I imagine his ego was too large to get out of his minimalist-styled St David’s Hotel room).

Different strokes for different folks, eh?

PS Looking forward to seeing Paul Merton Live tonight, courtesy of a gift from the lovely Sarah

Doing the right thing

I think I spent far too much of my youth watching films about martyrs. At first I thought I just had a rebellious streak, but for some reason I always have to stand up for what I believe is right. It’s got me into a few tight spots over the years, but I’d like to think it’s always stood me in good stead.

These last couple of days I’ve been hearing about a group of music teachers who are being treated appallingly by their employers. They’re facing an 11% paycut, backdated to April. There are a number of factors involved (like Gordon Brown’s insistance they pay National Insurance twice), but essentially they’ve never stood up to their employers. They’ve accepted poor pay in relation to equals elsewhere, they’ve accepted poor working terms and contracts, they’ve stood by and watched as individuals are picked off and sacked without justification, and all the time they’ve accepted the management’s policy of ‘not discussing’ any issues that affect them.

Today the news is full of the ‘unofficial’ action at the Vauxhall production plant at Ellesmere Port. A CEO in The States makes a seemingly insignificant aside comment about it being the likely place for economic job-cutting, and they’re all out for a day of protest. Ironically, University students may not graduate this summer as their lecturers are refusing to mark exam papers unless their 12.6% pay-rise over the next 3 years is increased. I don’t like using class terminology, but you can’t help but think that the middle-classes are only bringng it on themselves…

Yoof of Today

Warning: Do not read on if you don’t like the words of Grumpy Old Men!

I love the programme ‘Grumpy Old Men’ on the BBC. Worryingly, I’m finding their words increasingly true. Today, however, I found myself uttering the words “it wasn’t like that when I was their age”. Today, I witnessed A-level students preparing for their performance exams, and they weren’t nervous. They weren’t anxious. They weren’t worried that the sense of ocassion wasn’t right. In short, they weren’t how people were when’t I were a lad…

A walk in the park II

Back at the start of April I wrote about how my beloved nearby park had come to life in Spring. I wrote its sanctuary-esque qualities and how it’s a reason we haven’t moved for so long. It’s different now though. Now it’s Summer, and unfortunately Summer equals ‘Chavs’. I prefer the term ‘towny’, but the characteristics remain the same.

All I wanted to do was accompany Sarah on her Race for Life training plan running aroung the lake, but they were everywhere. Just as the Spring buds had turned into volumous blooms, so the townies had sprung up all around the lake. Most had forgotten to put on all of their clothing this morning and many were going for a cider/cheap lager lunch. One in particular was attemping a Cordon bleu feast of cheap white wine in the full sun and judging from her pained expression as she drooped on the floor next to her ‘boyf’, it was not a great success. My peaceful, tranquil park had turned into some greenfield version of the Blue Water Shopping centre, beautiful and functional but infested with hoodies and tracksuits – ironically the joggers weren’t the ones in tracksuits.

It’s part of the natural cycle of the park. At first I felt like my space had been taken away from me, but now I just need to remember that it’s a public form of timeshare property and keep my visits to weekdays during office hours – when most of them are in Blue Water and it’s relations.

Politically Correct

As a Thatcher child (it took 18 years before I could live without Conservative rule), it saddens me to watch New Labour Crumble. Not because I’m necessarily a big Labour supporter but because it proves my cynical side right – all governments are inherently useless and an inevitable anti-climax. I remember watching Spitting Image lampoon Thatcher, Heseltine and Major, but am gradually seeing Blair, Brown and Prescott taking roles as their understudies in my mind.

However, as the new glorious light that the new dawn of politics my generation gave the country begins to go dim, I did enjoy reading The Guardian’s report on today’s reshuffle. Two notable lines from Ollver King’s Report:

“The deputy prime minister, Mr Prescott, has been stripped of much of his power after his affair with secretary Tracey Temple was exposed.”

I like the repeated use of the terms “strip” and “stripping” in relation to Prescott (I’ve just heard it on Newsnight) – so apt for a guy caught with his pants down.

“It’s important that government has depth of experience and John Prescott has many years of bringing people together…”

So said Hazel Blears, new Labour party chair – frankly I like her already, she certainly seems to have a knack of nailing the truth in very few words.

If only Spitting Image were still on – I can see the Prescott Puppet know, boxing glove in one hand, box of Milk Tray in the other… 

ENO – Losing the Operatic Plot

So it’s Star Wars Day (May the Fourth be with you), but for a moment I thought it was April 1st. Reuters is reporting that in September (or ‘9’ as it seems to have been renamed) ENO will open an opera based on Colonel Gadaffi. No, seriously. The arias et al in ‘Gadaffi the Opera’ are replaced with music by ageing outfit Asian Dub Foundation. Clearly inspired by the publicity created by the Jerry Springer opera, those involved took their inspiration from Webber’s ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’… oh dear.

Michael Fish has gone to Iceland

Well, he hasn’t really. I’ve been keeping an eye on the news in Iceland as part of my excitement of the planned trip there later this year and a story caught my eye. It seems that Iceland has been getting all excited about a heatwave it’s currently experiencing. Yes, my chosen Summer holiday location is getting excited because today it reached 15 degress, and the record of 20 degrees could be broken!

Meanwhile, here in Britain we complain about the freshness of 17 degrees on a Spring day. An Icelanding meteorologist said it “is a nice reminder of summer. I expect a lot of people will use the opportunity for a barbeque tonight.”

I never was one for hot summer days. This is good.

2 Weddings & a 4Star Hotel

Today has been a long day. I’m sorry that I didn’t make it into work this morning to coach the future stars of the musical world by waving my arms around maniacally, as I usually do on a Saturday morning (and that’s before the caffeine kicks in), but instead I did two different jobs. More precisely I did the same job twice in succession. I played at two different weddings.

The first was a Catholic wedding, the second a civil ceremony. The first was in a modern Catholic church (described rather inelequently by our viola player as looking ‘like a leisure centre’), the second in a modern minimalist-inspired hotel. The first had a cross-section of ages and social standings affirming parts of The Bible in responsorials, the other shiny businessmen taking pictures with their mobile phones.

I’ve spent the evening discussing the differences with the lovely Sarah, and we disagree. Yes, one seemed to be more thought out (playing for a wedding party whilst people walk passed on their way to their rooms from the hotel spar in dressing gowns seemed to lower the tone), the other more polished and formal, but I believe both have an equal worth to the participants. Yes, one was presided over by an elderly man whose life’s vocation was to help others in the name of God, whilst the other had the oxo mum (the Priest was Irish and we had a reading of one of my favourites, Yeats). Yes, in only one of them could you hear the Bride and Groom declare their devotion publicly. Yes, one was in front of depictions of the son of God, whilst the other was in front of a demolition site and air-conditioning ducts. However, I believe equal importance had been given to both by the couples involved.

I believe that the respective ceremonies were held in equal reverence by the couples involved. Both had chosen their music, their flowers, their dress, their photographers, their venue. I’m sure both meant their vows of fidelity to their new spouse. Maybe the day was just a little more special for the guests and relatives at one wedding, but then is the day really designed with them in mind?