In which some stuff happens and some doesn't....

And so another week passes, as it will do, and I can hear you all clammering (is that a word? Oops, seems it should be spelled 'clamoring', neither of which look right....) for details of what has passed for excitement in my life as it is lived at Jones Towers.

Some things have been achieved - one of which I'm particularly proud of - and at least one thing I was very much looking forward to didn't happen at all, and one long-term project looks like it's going on the back boiler for now (if not permanently, but I hope not).  But let's not dilly-dally, I know you're all desperate to read how I pass my fun-packed days.  That last sentence actually reads sarkier than I meant because it has been a not bad week.

Pluses:

- I finished my third and, for now, final twirly scarf.  I won't post details as it's going to be a christmas present for another member of my family and I'm not sure if she reads this blog or not.  Probably not.  Most people - in fact, I'd hasten to suggest practically all people - of my acquaintance don't. But I don't really want to take the chance so, suffice it to say, it's been made in a nice chunky wool in a lovely colour (one of her faves, so I've been told).  So there.

- The Broad Bean seeds that I sowed in little pots about 10 days ago are starting to germinate.  I start off all my vegetable plants at home and then transfer them to the allotment as it's easier for me that way.  So as today was another gorgeous sunny one, I spent an hour sowing sugar snap peas (mange tout, by any other name) and beetroot.  With a great deal of help from Bruno, the neighbours' young cat who has, rather suddenly, started licking his own fur off his back legs and is, consequently, looking a bit mangy these days. I hope his humans are doing something about it...

- I discovered the Polish chilled food aisle in my local Sainsburys!  I have become a bit of a fan of Eastern European food since spending some time self-catering in Hungary a few years back - for example, I discovered that the chocolate you could get there was not only MUCH better than Cadbury's (sacrilege to say so, I know!) but also about half the price, their yoghurt was just all-around fabulousness in a tub and their version of Jaffa Cakes (which, instead of orange, had fillings of strawberry or cherry or peach) would make a saint cry, so I was more than pleased when I found the new chiller cabinet in my local store.  Yesterday, for lunch, we had Pierogi (a cross between dim sum dumplings, ravioli and gnocchi) filled with cheese and potato.  I boiled them in a pot of water for 3 mins, then transferred them to a large frying pan in which I'd melted a shedload of butter and added sliced onions.  I fried the Pierogi in the oniony, buttery lusciousness until they start to take on some colour, then bunged them in a bowl, grated over some cheese.  If I'd had soured cream on hand, I would have added that but I had full fat plain Greek yoghurt so a big dollop of that was added.  It was very, very yum and incredibly stuffy.  Today, I made a start on the Zawijaniec Sledziowy ze sliwka:

which is, as any fule kno, rollmop herrings stuffed with prunes.  Much nicer than you'd think, trust me - the flavours go together well and the textures complement each other.  But do bear in mind that it's helpful if you like rollmop herrings in the first place, which I do.

And after that, I opened the large pot of pieczone jablko-flavoured yoghurt:

This is Baked Apple yoghurt.  It has pieces of apple and raisins and cinnamon and is one of the yummiest things I have EVER put in mah mowf.  EVER.  I had to force myself to put down the spoon and walk away from it for fear that I would just shovel the entire tub into my gaping maw in one sitting.  It's. That. Good.

Next time I go shopping, i.e., tomorrow, I think I might investigate the various flavours of Kielbasa (smoked sausage) and attempt a small tub of sauerkraut.  Oh, and perhaps one of the other pierogi varieties.  Yum yum.

- So with all this additional calorific intake, it's probably a good thing that - ta-dah! - I completed my first ever 5km run last Thursday!  This is the thing I'm most proud of.  I wasn't quick, oh dear me, no - took me 57 minutes in total - but I did cover 5km (that's 3.8 miles in old money) and, I'm pleased to say, there was more running than walking.  If you recall, I've registered for a 4km fun run at the end of April and, in an ideal world, I'd love to be able to get round that without stopping to do any walking at all so, hilariously, you could say I am now in training!  I was hoping to get out today - Sunday - to do another 5k run but there were other things I needed to do first so I haven't managed to go (and probably won't now) but I'll try and get out tomorrow.

- Last night TLH and I went to the Guildford Civic to see that latest in our classical music concert programme, which was the European Union Chamber Orchestra with soloist Julian Lloyd Webber on cello.  It was fantastic.  A nicely balanced programme, they started with Handel's 'Entrance of the Queen of Sheba', followed by Elgar's Serenade for Strings.  Then Julian came out and they played Haydn's 'Cello Concerto No. 1 in C Major' and I was left totally gobsmacked at his talent.  Look, I found a youtube clip of him playing the last movement of the concerto with the Swedish Chamber Orchestra a few years back (please to be ignoring the frankly alarming shirt):

I played the cello for a year or two in my early teens and, to be honest, I think I prefer the sound of the cello to that of the violin, so this was just glorious.

After the break the orchestra then played Barber's 'Adagio for Strings' which was lush and utterly fabulous.  Even if you're not familiar with the name, you'll know the music, it's been in tonnes of movies and was turned into a trance-house chillout tune by, I think, William Orbit.  I found a youtube video of the entire thing (it's about 10 minutes long) that didn't have any adverts at the beginning.  This performance was from the Proms, four days after 9-11 and was a tribute to the victims, so apologies for the quality but just bear in mind the emotional state everyone was in at the time this was played:

They finished with Mozart's Symphony no. 29 in A Major which I'd not heard before and absolutely loved.  Sadly, I couldn't find a decent enough sounding vid on Youtube but feel free to have a wander over there yourself for a listen, if you fancy it - I recommend it!

- Add to all this, I finished reading Bram Stoker's 'The Jewel of Seven Stars' and enjoyed it far more than I thought I would.  As compared to H P Lovecraft's 'At the Mountains of Madness' which I'm determined to finish even if it's like wading through treacle.  Lovecraft was writing in the early 1930s and Stoker's book was published in 1903 but Stoker's is a much more 'modern' read than Lovecraft.  And it's also easier to read than Thomas Hardy.  I would almost describe it as 'rollicking' except that I thought the ending was a bit of a let-down.  Briefly, without giving away spoilers (because I do recommend you read it, and it's a short book in any case!), it's the story of an Egyptologist who gathers artefacts together at his house in London in an attempt to resurrect the mummy of a dead Queen who, uncannily, looks exactly like his daughter.  And, yes, it's the inspiration for every Mummy film you've ever seen.

Minuses:

- In general, there have been few minuses this week.  The biggest disappointment is that the band I'm in, The Fugitives, was meant to be playing a gig at a Charity Auction Ball at Twickenham on Saturday (i.e., yesterday) but due to the unavailability of our guitarist, we couldn't do it.  This was a huge shame as we've not had a gig since the wedding we did back in April last year.  Oh well.  The upside to this was that TLH and I were able to see Julian Lloyd Webber instead.

- Secondly, the plan that my friend Bev and I had to play gigs together as a duo to backing tapes is looking very unlikely to take off.  At least, not in the immediate future.  She's decided to go back to Cape Verde for a while, to see if she can find work as a musician there.  She has other reasons for going back but I'm not sure how much of her life I should tell you about, let's just say there's a lot to pull her back to the islands.  So on the one hand I'm pleased that she's being positive about where she wants her life to go, I'm quite sad that the resurrection of Casual Sax will have to wait a bit longer.

And that, in all honesty, are probably the only slight bummers to occur this week at Jones Towers.

It's not a bad life, after all, is it?

Still here!

Blimey.  Where has the last month gone?  'I have no bloody idea' is the answer.

My blogging mojo left me yet again.  I'm not sure it's returned yet either, but I thought I'd better check in.  I shouldn't think anyone's noticed I'd gone quiet again, after all I'm not the most prolific blogger on the planet.

So what's been happening with you all, mes amis?  It's got to that time of year where those of you with mini-me's are all caught up with end of school/beginning of the summer holidays madness, aren't you?  Meanwhile, life rumbles on at its inexorable pace here at Jones Towers.  The Lovely Husband is still working and earning some pennies - which is good - at a job he's not enjoying very much - which is bad - to which he is driving the Little Car every day - which is good - but occasionally the traffic coming home is so bad it takes him nearly 3 hours to get home - which is awful, frankly.  The contract he's on is due to end fairly soon, and he's looking forward to not having to work there anymore, but he thinks there's a distinct likelihood that it'll be renewed again for another few months. And in this economic climate, you'd be an idiot not to accept the renewal.  Poor lovey, I do feel sorry for him.

And what am I up to just now?  Well, following all the excitement of joining The Fugitives and playing a couple of gigs in the last few months, no more gigs have come along (although I've been looking and sending out emails) so it's all gone a bit quiet on that front.  I've no doubt there'll be more at some future point, it's just getting them that's the problem.

However, if you can be arsed to go back a couple of posts, you'll see that I referred to my good friend Bev having a suggestion about a new musical venture she thinks we should explore.  She finally got round to telling me about it and, I believe, it has legs.  She's suggesting that we set ourselves up as a sax duo (her on tenor and baritone, me on alto), playing along to backing tracks.  We would play soul, easy listening, familiar tunes and having the backing tracks means you don't have a full band behind you, meaning that we'd be cheaper to hire than a full band (being only a 2-piece).  We could play in smaller venues and at places that just wanted incidental music, such as wine bars, art galleries, that sort of thing.  See what I mean?  It might work.  My only real concern is my actual ability to play that well - doubts that I expressed to Bev and which she, very kindly, dismissed out of hand.

I'm willing to give it a go but I will need a LOT of practice.  To that end I've downloaded about a dozen tracks so far to play over - stuff like Fly Me To The Moon, Cry Me a River, Perhaps Perhaps Perhaps, Dock of the Bay, Rescue Me - soul tunes that we play in The Fugitives but also other well known songs.  I may even sing some of them but I'll need to see how Bev feels about that.  She's heading back to Cape Verde in a few days and will back mid-August so we'll put our heads together when she returns. I'll keep you posted.

My new saxophone is still very lovely but also appreciably heavier than my old one and, consequently, is putting a much greater strain on the back of my neck when I use the standard sort of neckstrap.  It's been giving me backache and neck strain, leading to some very unwelcome headaches.  I've decided to get a harness instead so the weight is distributed across the shoulders rather than the back of the neck - like this:

In fact, this is the very one I've just ordered.  It's specially designed for women so hopefully it'll cope with my matronly boobshelf.  Bev uses one for her Baritone, but it's standard to use a harness for those because they're huge instruments and very heavy indeed, it's not so common for an alto but if it means less trips to the chiropractor for me, then that's all to the good.

Hmm, what else?  Oh yes, I had a MUCH better day at the last craft fair in Alresford that I did - the one before that I only sold one pair of earrings for £8.50 - I whinged about it, if you recall - but this time sold just over a hundred quid's worth!   There's no predicting how the British public want to spend their money and it's a waste of time trying to second guess them....  But obviously I'm pleased they're spending again (well, they were in July at least) because I'm now saving my money to buy yet another musical instrument!

Yes, I have my eye on a digital piano now.  I used to play piano and had lessons back in the late 1970s in  my early teen years, and I got up to Grade V before jacking it in.  I can remember reading not very long ago some article, though, that said many people who gave up playing the piano in their teen years come back to it at a later date, and I think that's true, at least in my case.  I may have come back to it earlier but, as far as I was aware, pianos only came in Grand, baby grand or upright versions, were big and heavy and were LOUD.  I didn't have the room anywhere in my house to put one and, almost more importantly, I was painfully aware of how annoying the sound of constant scales and wrong notes would be to my neighbours.

Then I saw the digital pianos in Chamberlains when I was scouting for a new saxophone.  And I was stopped in my tracks.  Digital pianos have no need for strings and hammers so the only space they take up is the size of the keyboard itself.  These were neat and tiny by comparison but still had a full-size keyboard. One of the sales chappies spotted me lovingly stroking one of them and wandered over for a chat.  He explained that there were several sound settings one could choose from, but the main piano sound had been recorded from a Steinway Grand.  Then he said the magic words, "and of course you can practise silently on it".  Seems there's a couple of jacks underneath where you can plug in headphones, and bash away at the keyboard as loud as you like and no-one else can hear you!  Brilliant!

There are actually quite a lot of digital pianos on the market, some of which are very expensive, but I just want an ordinary bog-standard piano, that sounds authentic, takes up little room and plays silently.  I have my eye on this little one, a Roland F-110.  It's only 1.3m long and just over 300cms tall:

With the lid closed it has a flattish top and looks a bit like a console table:

And because it's their entry-level piano, it's not too badly priced at £799 if you go to Chamberlains showroom in Haslemere (online practically everywhere else - and shops too - it's priced at £849).  Now I'm not denying that this is a lot of money, because it is, but it's cheaper than a brand new traditional upright piano and don't forget it takes up much less room than a traditional upright and it's silent! Plus, being digital, you can also record from it onto a computer via some sort of lead out the back or something, but that's TLH's domain and I'll leave him to figure that out.

We've identified 3 or 4 places where one would fit in the house so now it's just a question of saving up my pennies (I'm just over a quarter of the way there), asking for contributions instead of christmas presents and adding birthday money and it shouldn't take too long before I'm boring myself stupid playing scales but without annoying the neighbours!

Finally, I've been very slowly working on a crocheted shawl for the winter.  So far I've made cushion covers, three blankets, a couple of scarves, some flowers, a beanie hat and some hanging decorations, but my eye was captured several months ago by a Japanese flower design:

Beautiful, isn't it?  So I decided I needed one of these in my life, and then I saw a version made in mohair which just blew me away:

And so I got myself some balls of Rowan Kidsilk Aura which is made from 70% kid mohair and 30% silk and, consequently, frightfully expensive.  I'm using three shades - a plummy purple, a watermelon pink and a powder pink.  I need to make around 40 of the flowers and I'm up to 10 now, I think.  Anyway, this is what my flowers look like:

And this one gives you a better idea of the fuzziness of the mohair:

I haven't found the mohair to be that tricky to work with although undoing stitches if you've gone wrong and have to redo them is a pain as the little hairs all wrap around each other, so you need scissors to give them a trim but I'm liking the way this is going so I'll post pics when it's done.

Oh, now look, I have nothing to say for weeks and then I just ramble on.  Imma shut up now as I need to put the kettle on and deal with an ancient cat who firmly believes there's not enough cream in his life and never fails to tell me at every opportunity....

Ooh - shiny!

Remember in my last post I mentioned spotting a secondhand Yamaha YAS62 sax in Chamberlains music store in Haslemere?

It's now resting gently in its stand in my living room.  Yes, gentle reader, I went back to the shop two days later, gave it a good blow in their practice room (which was more like an unsoundproofed storage cupboard, frankly) and decided that it was infinitely better than the student horn I've been using since the 1980s.

Here she is, in the case she came in, which was pretty beaten up.  Fortunately they gave me a free lightweight Reunion Blues gig case which has a strap so you can carry it on your shoulder or across your back.

Taken outside in the sunshine, on the bridge.   She's in very nearly almost perfect condition, there's just the smallest dent above the thumb rest on the back, but she was secondhand so small imperfections are to be expected.

Just look at that beautiful, almost Art Deco-style, swirly, curvy one-piece key guard that just swoops around the bottom and up the front of the bell - gorgeous.

The sax is an instrument that's crammed with pads and buttons and levers, but it is actually easier to play than it looks - if you can play a recorder or, perhaps, a clarinet, then you can play a sax.

It's maybe not terribly clear in this photo (you can click on the pics to make them bigger) but the bell of the YAS62 is engraved with swirls and stars.

It's a professional standard saxophone as opposed to the student version that I've been using.  This means that it's been built to a great level of accuracy, there are more keys and levers than my old one and - what surprised me - it's appreciably heavier.  This indicates to me that the metal is thicker which will affect the tone of the instrument - a richer, heavier sound.  It sounds like an alto sax should.

Some more photos, I think - indoors, this time:

The buttons here are Mother of Pearl, and these are the ones that are played with the left hand - index finger on the top button, middle finger on the third one down and the ring finger on the bottom one that is at an angle.  Your little finger operates the collection of four keys (that are in a sort of circle arrangement - called spatulas, I believe) below and to the right (in the picture) of the bottom Mother of Pearl key.  The three levers on the right, a bit higher than the spatulas, that look a bit like snakeheads, are called palm keys and, as the name suggests, you operate them with your left palm.  There are similar sorts of key arrangements that you operate with your right hand, below all this lot.

I suppose it is a bit complicated, really.

One more look at her on the sofa.

The sound is noticeably (to me, anyway) different from my old sax, although I'm not too sure about the mouthpiece.  There are any number of combinations of style and size of mouthpiece that can be used with at least 5 different thicknesses of reed, all of which will affect the sound you make, so that's a whole other area I suppose I ought to wade my way through.

Anyway, I just thought I'd show you my new acquisition - the single most expensive thing I think I've ever bought (possibly more than my first ever car!)  I'm definitely getting it insured, probably by joining the Musicians' Union.

So all I need now is some gigs to play it at!!

A week of ups and downs....

I felt very miserable on Saturday.  The Lovely Husband and I were at the craft fair in Alresford, Hampshire.  We go here about 7 or 8 times a year.  When we first started there, about 4 years ago now I should think, our takings were really good, easily just into three figures almost every time.  Then the economy died on its arse and my takings there have become erratic.

But guess how many things I sold on Saturday.

One.

One single, solitary pair of earrings.

For £8.50.

We sat there from 8.15am until 4.30pm and I took just £8.50.

Sigh.

Plus the table space cost me £16 so, effectively, I made a loss of £7.50, not to mention the cost of the petrol to get there. Worst craft fair I've ever done, anywhere.

Double sigh with added tutting.

I almost wish I'd sold nothing at all, but I still have that joy to come.

I know I can't force people to buy my stuff, especially when it's so unnecessary to one's everyday life - as my mum says (she's also in the craft game, she does fabulous decoupage on stuff) "We're not making sausages", in other words, people are more likely these days to spend their hard-earned on food and fuel than on decorations for their house or person.

Sigh.

It just all seems like a massive waste of time.  However, I shall plod on, not least because it will get better towards christmas - and as tomorrow is Midsummer Day, it's all downhill to christmas from then on - but I have a large stash of beads, pearls, crystals and semi-precious stones that I need to use up!  Plus I'm registered with the tax people in order to pay National Insurance Contributions so that my full state pension is guaranteed, and so I need to produce annual accounts for them, which means I need to sell stuff in order to have something to put in said accounts.  I don't make enough profit in order to pay any tax, mind you, but at least I'll get enough of a pension when I'm old and grizzled to be able to buy my tins of cat food. So that's okay.

Secondly, today I had to go to the dentist to have a big job done.  One of those ones that they insist you book an hour's appointment for.  I have to have an 'on-lay' which is not, apparently, the same as an 'in-lay' (of which I have one) or a crown (of which I also have one).  It's sort of half-and-half.  It's a big bottom left  molar which has a decades-old filling in it that's starting to leak, and there are hairline cracks appearing on all four side, so an on-lay sort of holds the tooth altogether.  I'm typing this with half my face feeling all fat and numb, hoping the anaesthesia will wear off soon so I can have a cup of tea without fear of dribbling it all down my matronly shelf-boob, or biting into my tongue.

Actually, my dentist is terrific - although he ought to be, at the prices he charges.  It being a private dental clinic it is, of course, more like a fancy spa than those terrifying NHS clinics of your childhood that were all painted institutional green and smelled of antiseptic.  At my clinic they have a hypnotherapist available to help you get over your dental fears, and an in-house reflexologist (for some reason).  All the hygienists wear colour co-ordinated scrubs, and they pipe Brian Eno's Ambient music into the treatment rooms.

I currently have a temporary crown thing on the tooth in question and have to go back in 2 weeks to have the new porcelain on-lay fitted, and that tooth should last me for at least another 20 years.

Just down the road from the clinic is Chamberlains, a large music shop.  I've never been in there before so I thought I'd wander down there for a poke around.  It's a big shop, filled with all sorts of instruments, including brass and woodwind.  And I espied, in a display case, a secondhand saxophone of the exact make and model that I think I'm after!  For a reasonable price!  Sadly, having a numb face meant I would not be able to take it for a test blow, but I think I may well come back in a few days and ask if I can try it out and see what I think.  Excited!!!

I texted Bev (my lovely sax playing friend) about my find in Chamberlains and she rang me when I got home to tell me that she's had a brilliant idea about another musical venture that she and I can do, but she wouldn't tell me what it was!!  Such a tease!!  She said she wanted to think about it for a few days yet, and then we'd meet up for a coffee and she'd tell me what she thought.  She did ask, though, what kind of music I most enjoyed playing - I told her that I actually enjoy most things but it's more a case of whether I'd be capable of playing it.

Intriguing.  I shall keep you informed.

So, a week of ups and downs - Alresford = bad; dentist = bad but necessary and not too horrendous in the end; potential new sax located = exciting; Bev's plans = intriguing.  Plus it's Glastonbury on the telly this coming weekend which TLH and I always enjoy watching.

How's your week been so far (and it's only Monday!)?

Emerging from the darkened room...

So the gig last Friday night was brilliant.  Wedding receptions are always fun events because everyone is (generally) happy and up for a good time, so you could probably just stand there and play on a comb and paper and people would still dance.  If they've had enough to drink.

This had been quite a posh wedding, by the looks of the outfits.  The bride looked lovely and had on a very nice frock, and the main blokes were in tails.  None of the guests looked like they'd stepped out of a Big Fat Gypsy Wedding - not that there's anything wrong with that - but those receptions or parties are the ones that are, generally speaking, more likely to get a bit lairy and fighty which, while probably a bit entertaining to watch from the sidelines, can tend to ruin the atmos somewhat.  And then you can't get out of the carpark due to the ambulances and police cars.

The reception was being held in the undercroft restaurant bit at Clandon House.  I didn't take any photos (not really the done thing if it's not your wedding or you're not a guest) but I found some on the intertubes:

Front of Clandon House

Inside the Undercroft (note the fine mustachioed pillar!)

Dancing in the Undercroft

As you can see, the ceilings in the Undercroft - which is basically a tarted up vault or cellar - are low and all the surfaces are hard.

There was no platform - let alone a stage - for the band to stand on but this isn't actually a problem.  However, a proper PA system had been hired with monitors for everyone and, this time, I got my own microphone rather than having to share one with Bev, and there was proper lighting!  This all meant that the sound, from the point of view of the band, was fabulous, because we could all hear each other and I was able to ensure I was in tune and sounding less like a honking goose than last time!

Mind you, it got bloody hot, mostly caused by the lights, I think.  At one point the sweat was running down the arms of my glasses and as I bent forward, dripping like a faulty tap all over my boobs!  Which sounds quite porny really but wasn't.  I'd sorted out a better outfit to wear for my second gig so I looked less like a middle-aged Surrey housewife who had wandered by accident onto the stage, and more like I ought to be there.  I got myself a 50s style top - in fact, this one:

Which I wore with a leopardskin pencil skirt:

Black fishnets with black kitten heel sandals with very pointy toes (a fab charity shop find):

I did my hair a bit like Mary Tyler Moore, a flippy 60s style, a little like this:

My hair's actually a darker shade of pink than this but the style is almost exactly what I did.

A fantastic look, I think you'll agree, but - in reality - only if you're half the weight I currently am.  Admittedly, due to reasons (more or less) beyond my control, the exercising has had to take a back seat for the last few weeks so I'm going to have to ease myself back into it again, plus I'm going back on a semi-Atkins diet.

I did the full, proper Atkins a few years back and it worked really well, I lost over a stone (14lbs) but I couldn't keep up the strict removal of all carbs, so they started creeping back in and now my weight's back where it was.  And it's too much, really.  I ought to lose a couple of stone but I know how hard that is, so I'll be happy for just one for now.  Trouble is I'm fighting the menopause (which is notorious for weight gain) and I come from a line of very big women - I have one aunt who has had a gastric band and another who ought to have one - plus the polycystic ovarian syndrome means I have trouble with insulin resistance which converts all sugar to fat - resulting in it being really difficult for me to lose weight.  And, yes, I do know the whole eat less + move more = weight loss but for some people that doesn't seem to work - when I started running a couple of months back, I was running at least 2 miles three times a week, going swimming as well, and cutting down on my food intake and in about 6 weeks of doing this guess how much weight I lost?  Not. One. Pound.  Seriously.  And how demoralising is that?

Ooh, I've gone off on a tangent about weight loss, haven't I?  How very dull for you all.  My apologies.

Anyway, the gig was fab, the audience took a little bit to get warmed up but once the alcohol started flowing and the buffet got underway, they packed out the floor and there was plenty of dad dancing going on.  I mostly remember the lovely little dark-haired girl - who couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 years old - who was absolutely fascinated by me and Bev playing our saxophones.  She stood right in front of us, with a very serious little face, scrutinising us thoroughly, for almost half the gig.  I kept smiling at her but getting no smile back, so she was obviously in deep thought mode.  The feminist in me rather hoped that she was taking on board the fact that it is perfectly acceptable these days for females to play in bands, doing something else other than singing - I can imagine the other little boys at her school (who are all naturally misogynistic at that age) telling her that 'girls can't be rock stars - only boys!' and I hope she remembers us and puts them right.

Licensing restrictions meant the music had to be finished by 11.30, and it took me another 45 minutes to get myself packed up and sorted before I left.  Fortunately the venue is only about 15-20 minutes from home so I was sitting on my sofa with a cup of tea by 12.30.

Churt Village Fete was the following day and I woke up feeling really rather crap.  I hadn't really had enough sleep and, despite not a drop of alcohol passing my lips the previous  night, I felt rather hungover.  Playing on stage, in a hot sweaty room, and getting one's funk on, is a strenuous business but because you're enjoying it so much, you don't feel it at the time.  Certainly hits you the next day, mind.  And I'm old enough to be a grandmother these days so my recovery time is not what it would be for a 24 year old.  But, luckily, Churt Fete is only for the afternoon and we didn't need to get there until 12 noon.

We were extraordinarily lucky with the weather - it had been peeing down all the week before, and, indeed, there had been some spots of rain on Saturday morning, but it held off entirely for the afternoon, before starting to rain again in the evening.  The good weather certainly helped to bring out the punters - this was the third year I'd done a jewellery stall at Churt and there were definitely more people there than in previous years.  And they were in the mood to spend money - hooray!  My new sax fund has been swelled appreciably.  The only bad thing about doing these village fetes is that we always, ALWAYS consume too much.  Both TLH and I came away from this one feeling most definitely poisoned, and it was all our own fault.

We just can't help ourselves - we started at about 1.30pm with a fantastic carrot cupcake with cream cheese frosting and a less successful cranberry muffin each from the cream tea stall.  Then at about 2.30 the scouts' barbecue started serving, so I had a hot dog with onions, mustard and tomato sauce and TLH had a cheeseburger with all the trimmings.  At about 3.00 we each had an ice cream - toffee flavour (with lumps of real toffee) made by local producers Meadow Cottage Farm who use cream from their Jersey cows.  It's spectacularly good stuff.  At about 3.30, TLH disappeared and returned with Pimm's for us.  Then, at about 4.30, as everyone is starting to pack up, someone from the WI came round with a fantastic home-made Black Forest Gateau cut into slices saying that it was left over and did we want a slice for 25p each?  How could we not?  It was unbelievably good but, by then, I couldn't finish my slice (not surprising really).

And on top of all that, TLH had already made a visit to the WI cake stall early in the afternoon to choose a cake for us to take home.  I'm looking at it now, sitting on the table, still covered in clingfilm and untouched.  It's now 4 days old and I'm not sure that we're going to eat any of it.

So, yeah, Atkins diet for me for a bit.

So Churt was on Saturday and Sunday was meant to be Chiddingfold Festival.  We've done Chid for the last 6 or 7 years and it's never been rained off, but I think this year was the first.  The weather report for Sunday looked like torrential downpour from sun-up to sun-down.  But, as you know, British weather can turn on a sixpence so we decided to leave everything packed into the car and reassess in the morning.  However we only got as far as Saturday evening before deciding that, frankly, I was too exhausted to do Chiddingfold and that we'd give it a miss this year.  The organisers don't lose out on any money, though, because I'd had to pay for my pitch in advance, but I reckon it was worth the loss to me of £15 so that I could have the day off.  I was a bit conflicted, though, because last year I'd made a lot of sales and if the good people of Chid were in as much of a spendy mood as the good people of Churt had been, then I was waving goodbye to a darn sight more than £15.  But TLH had said he didn't want to do Chid and I knew how tired I was, so that was that.

And then it absolutely chucked it down all Sunday afternoon so we ended up feeling quite smug while watching old films on the telly in the dry and the warm, knowing we'd made the right decision.

A busy weekend then.  And I have another craft fair next Saturday so this week I'm going to have to make more stuff for that, plus there's always work to be done down the allotment and it seems I've been sweet-talked into trying to find new gigs for the band!

Ooh, that reminds me, if any of my lovely readers know of any small/medium sized live music venues near them that might be suitable for us, then please leave a message in the comments.  Just to remind you of what we sound like, this is the Fugitives website (which hasn't yet been updated to include me!) - really, anything you can think of.

Busy, busy, busy!

Bloody Hormones.....

I am busy this week.  Very busy. 

My next gig with The Fugitives is this coming Friday.  It's a wedding reception at Clandon Park, near Guildford, and that's all I know about it just now.  But that's okay, I'll be told in the fullness of time exactly where I have to go and at what time.  In the meantime, the Fabulous Beverley popped over yesterday afternoon for us to have a run through of the sax parts.  She plays tenor and baritone, and I play a lowly alto.  This will be my second gig with The Fugitives and we only had an hour or so to practice together before the first gig, so we're determined to sort out our harmonies, and solos, and so forth.  We only managed about 90 minutes before her phone rang with another request for a taxi - she drives a taxi for a living at the moment while trying to find a job more closely aligned to the music industry.  But what we managed to sort out sounded good.  I mean - really good.

My confidence is getting better each day.  We're trying to get at least one more session in before Friday and, this time, I'm going over to her place, which I can't wait to do as she's just moved into a houseboat on the Basingstoke Canal as a housesitter for a year while the owners go travelling!  I'm so jealous!

So there's that.  And then my brother asked me to make him some cufflinks to go with the suit he's wearing to a family wedding (on his wife's side) this coming weekend.  This has taken a stupid number of days to accomplish - he wants purple ones.  Purple dichroic glass is a fickle beast.  I made two pairs of cabochons - one more blue-purple, the other more pinky-purple.  I couldn't capture the colour differences enough in a photograph (this is common with dichroic glass) so I decided to just post the two pairs to him so he could compare them to the purple dress his wife is wearing as head bridesmaid (or whatever they're called - Maid of Honour? I dunno).  I posted them Friday, just before he told me he needed them by Wednesday evening at the very latest, so fingernails were bitten to the quick while waiting (and hoping) that Royal Mail could get them back to me in time.

They arrived this morning so I was able to glue them to the cufflink backs and, hopefully, they'll be properly set by Wednesday.

And not only do I have a gig this coming Friday, but I have Churt Village Fete on the Saturday and Chiddingfold Festival on the Sunday to do.  This will be the third year at Churt but something like the sixth at Chiddingfold.  Admittedly I've not sold very much jewellery this year but I still feel like I've got to make some new stuff just in case the villagers go beserk and buy everything I have.  Not likely I know, but you never know.  So I've been making some new stuff - if you're interested, it's on my VenerableBead website. 

As well as this, the annual inspection date for the allotments has been announced as 28 June and I've been trying to get down there as often as possible, practically every day, each time for at least a couple of hours.  It's exhausting, but I need to weed and cut the grass and get all my seedlings in  and, at least, make it look like it's being cultivated so they don't throw me off.  It's bloody hard work but the benefit is being able to eat your own vegetables, which we did last night - harvested and cooked my own broad beans and they were damn yummy. 

So I was down at the allotment this afternoon and I remembered to take my iPod with me in order to listen to some music I downloaded a few days ago.  The first album was 'Just Another Diamond Day' by Vashti Bunyan, a folk singer from the sixties who has recently had a resurgence in popularity.  And it almost instantly reduced me to tears.  Her voice is so unbelievably pure, and the songs are full of innocent yearning to return to the land, she sings about travelling on the road in a gypsy caravan and rescuing animals on the way.  And I sobbed and sobbed.  It was completely unexpected and took me utterly by surprise. 

I'm not a crier.  Never have been.  I can vividly remember having a word with myself when I was about 12 years old and deciding, there and then, that no-one would ever see me cry.  It's a sign of weakness that I won't allow myself.  And mostly I've stuck to that over the years, except when confronted with severe emotional pain (death, divorce, infertility) or when blindsided by hormones.

I remember when undergoing my various rounds of IVF, in each cycle there was at least one day when I found myself uncontrollably sobbing my heart out for no good reason at all.  It transpired that this was always during the phase when the injections were putting me into artificial menopause.

And, of course, these days there's nothing artificial about my menopausal symptoms, so all I can assume is that this caused my sudden fit of inexplicable sadness and the clear sweetness of Vashti Bunyan's songs just pushed me over the edge.  Such as this one, 'Jog Along Bess' - have your hankies ready:

How Mrs Jones got her groove back..............

So then, the gig was last Saturday.  As I said I've spent the last 3 months or so learning the 30-song set list which is all standards from the 50s and 60s - Dock of the Bay, My Girl, Mustang Sally, Mr Pitiful, Soul Man, Papa's Got a Brand New Bag, I Feel Good, Rescue Me, Respect, you know the sort of thing, music you absolutely cannot sit still to.

Bev told me that she'd got all the sax music and notes written down from when she first learned all these songs 20 years ago but they were still with her things back in Cape Verde and she wouldn't be getting them until early May, so I had no choice but to work them out myself.  The Fugitives have got a live CD of them performing a little while ago, and their website has some performance videos so at least, for those few songs, I had their versions but there were quite a few that I had to download the original versions and try and work them out from that.  And, as I mentioned earlier, it turns out that The Fugitives play them in a different key.  But three months of really quite hard work had given me the confidence that I'd got at least 25 or so of the songs down.  Plus I had to get to know my sax again, and remember all its little foibles, and which notes it plays more in tune than others.  That actually turned out to be a bit like riding a bike, I hadn't forgotten any of the fingering, but I had forgotten what hard work breath control was.  As I was working out the songs, by the time I'd got through the first two lines of Little Richard's "slippin' and slidin'" the first time, I was practically on my knees with breathlessness.  How I was going to be able to play through the entire song was, in mid-February, absolutely beyond me.

And my embouchure was rubbish.  That's the technical term for the use of facial muscles and shaping of the lips and mouth to the mouthpiece of woodwind and brass instruments.  You have to use the muscles to keep the reed tight and manipulate it to change notes, and you have to fold your bottom lip over the top of your bottom teeth to protect the reed.  This all adds up to chapped, swollen lips and cramping in your facial muscles.  Practice builds up the muscles - or at least gets them used to being used in this manner - and helps to keep your embouchure tight and the notes sweet.

So, anyway, as I said Bev managed to come over for a couple of hours rehearsal with me on Saturday afternoon - this was going to be the only 'proper' rehearsal I had, I didn't have one at all with the full band (after 20 years' playing, they don't need to rehearse!) - and we ran through the songs that I'd got and checked that I was in the right key, and that the harmonies I'd worked out actually sounded okay, and that was it.

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to stay calm and failing utterly.  To say I was nervous would be a massive understatement.  I could feel my heart rate was up and I was starting to get a low level headache.  It was all I could do to shove a cheese sarnie down my throat at 3pm for lunch, even though I knew I ought to be eating more, and a bit later, because there wouldn't be time for a proper evening meal.  But I could barely eat that as it was.  I'll tell you what it felt like, the hours before going for an interview for a job you really REALLY want. Or an audition, where you're going to be judged by loads of people you don't know.  Scary.

And as if having to learn the songs wasn't enough, I didn't have anything really suitable to wear!  Yes, I've still got all my old stagewear in bags up in the loft, but they are 25 years old and about 3 sizes smaller than I am now.  Plus The Fugitives wear all black on stage - I've not worn all black since about 1992.  My wardrobe is as technicolour as a sweet shop these days.  I did manage to find a pair of wide legged black silk trousers and a black t-shirt but even with my currently pink hair, I still managed to look decidedly 'mumsy'.  Oh well, not much I could do about that now.

The venue was a hotel about 30 mins drive away, and we had to be there for 7pm.  TLH very kindly agreed to come with me as both driver and to provide moral support, and we arrived to find some of the guests already there - it was a surprise 60th birthday party - and 2 of the band members propping up the bar.  The band has its own PA system so they'd set it up in the ballroom, where the DJ was already spinning the decks.  This, of course, meant there would be no soundcheck for the band but I trusted that they knew what they were doing - they ought to, after 20 years!  Bev eventually arrived about 30 minutes later, after trusting her satnav and getting lost, then the guitarist arrived from Tunbridge Wells and the drummer from wherever drummers come from.  I was reintroduced and we all sat down chatting while more and more guests turned up.

One of the hotel rooms had been set aside as a changing room for the band, so we trouped up there for a few minutes so that clothes could be changed and Bev and I could have a very quick run through of a couple of the songs that we were still unsure about.  By now my nerves had calmed down somewhat but I was still feeling a bit hyper, you know?

9.15 rolled around and we were on.  Stuart (the lead singer and manager) had decided that tonight we would do 90 minutes divided into three sets of 30 minutes each.  I don't think I've ever played for more than about 40 minutes total in any band I've been in, and even then I wasn't playing or singing in every song.  Tonight I would be playing for the entire set!  Baptism of fire or what?!

We started with Mr Pitiful and off we went.  Sadly I'm afraid there's no photos - I'd asked TLH to come along and tape the whole show on my iPhone so that I finally had a complete audio recording of the setlist as performed by the band, and also take pictures but he felt a bit uncomfortable taking photos at what was someone else's private party.  And I'm not putting any of the audio files up on the blog because, frankly, the sound quality was appalling - good enough for me to work from, but definitely not good enough for anyone else to hear, sorry 'bout that!

People danced, people danced a lot.  There was proper dad dancing going on, there were very leggy teenage lovelies who looked like they'd just walked out of a Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, there were very drunk boys reeling about the place.  It was a very happy occasion, which is always a bonus.  Bev gave me some valuable advice earlier in the evening, she said "if a fight breaks out, remember to hold your sax behind you because you don't want someone slamming into you while you're playing, in case the sax gets rammed down your throat and knocks all your teeth out".  Wise words indeed.  But apart from a few people dancing a bit too close to the sticky out bits of the microphone stands and knocking them around, it was fine.  We were on the same level as the audience (i.e., not on any kind of stage at all) and Bev said that if people did start dancing a bit too close, then Stuart just comes out in front and sort of dances everyone back a bit.

Stuart also dictates what songs are going to be played based on how the audience is.  This is why I had to learn 30-odd songs when not all of them would be played.  He would decide if the next song should be a fast one or a slow one depending on their reaction and how much dancing was going on.  As I hadn't memorised the songs yet, I'd got my parts all written out in a musical manuscript book which meant that also had to have a music stand to put it on so I could read it while playing.  I'd already asked Bev if the band would be okay with this, and she told me that when she first started playing with them, she used a music stand for at least 2 years so there wouldn't be a problem.  Of course this does mean that I had to go searching through my book for the next song which sometimes they'd already started playing before I'd been able to find it!  Which I found a bit embarrassing but I don't think anyone else noticed.

And then, by midnight, we were finished.  We retired to the hotel/changing room where I very gratefully changed my heels for Birkenstocks, and nobody said I was rubbish so I think I might have joined the band!  It was about 12.30 when TLH and I made moves to go and, as I left, Stuart said the next gig would be at the end of May and that he'd call me with more details later.

We got home at about 1am and I was absolutely shattered, starving hungry and running on adrenaline (I didn't manage to fall asleep until after 3am).  I can't believe that I'd managed to get through it and IT WAS OKAY.  Not great, but absolutely okay.  I'm not entirely happy with my saxophone's tuning and, to be honest, I could probably do with a new one but that's a bit spendy just now.  I also need to learn the songs better, and I also just need to become a better player myself.  Bev is a fabulous tenor sax player and does plenty of wonderful solos that I couldn't possibly hope to emulate.  I'm more than happy to play harmonies and parp and toot away in support of her, but I want to be able to show her and her playing in a good light, and not let her down by being the out-of-tune mumsy one honking away beside her.  I've definitely got some work to do.

But at least it's started.  I can't believe I might actually have got my groove back again!

I'm ready to communicate with you now

Okay.  So, if you've been reading my spoutings for the last few months you might have noticed that I've been alluding to something that I wasn't quite ready to share with you yet.

No, I'm not pregnant, and never gonna be, so you can put that thought of your head right away.

Yes, TLH and I are still together and co-existing relatively happily.

It's not something that's, on the face of it, as monumental as that.  However, to me, it's pretty fucking epic.

Tonight I am playing in my first gig for 23 years.

AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH! (That's the sound of terror, by the way).  And I'm on the Immodium.  And have a bottle of Resue Remedy to hand as back up.

I'll explain....

Way back, over two years ago in fact, I mentioned that I had played in bands in my teens and twenties but I hadn't gone into the full boring detail of my previous musical life.  In about 1986 I formed an all-girl 3-piece sax outfit called 'Casual Sax' with the idea that we would busk but also hire ourselves out as a horn section for any available local bands that wanted us.

(I'm not sure if I've posted this picture before but I don't care if I have because it's one of my favourites)

This was Casual Sax back in about 1987, playing with a student band called Holy Durex where the rest of the band dressed as religious figures - pope, vicar, monk, that sort of thing - so we decided we'd dress up as devils, hence the horns and tails:

In both these pictures, I'm on the right, Bev is in the middle and Chrissie is on the left.  We stayed together for about 18 months but then Chrissie left to work in a hospital after finished her PhD, and also played with Hang Wangford, so she was going more of a country route.  Bev and I carried on for a bit:

But then she joined a 1960s style soul band who got a residency in Portugal and I was left on my own.  The band I was playing mainly with then disbanded in 1988, I packed my saxophone away and never really played it again.

Bev carried on and became very good.  She got work as a proper session musician and played at the 2006 MOBO awards in London behind Sam Moore.   Her life took her to live and work in Cape Verde, just off the coast of Senegal, West Africa for several years, but last November she announced she was coming back to the UK for good and in January 2011, to celebrate her birthday, the soul band she'd played in was reforming and doing a gig at a pub near to me.  I'd not actually seen Bev for about 7 or even 8 years so I dragged TLH along:

She was just as fabulous as always.  I love Bev.

Anyway, the band played, and it was huge fun and then afterwards, Bev and I were chatting and she said that now she was back in England, the band were reforming and asked me if would be interesting in joining her on sax.

O.M.G.

I said 'YES'.  In capital letters.

I'd recently been going through a very nostalgic phase of listening to live recordings of my old bands, watching the videos and looking at all the old photos and wishing I hadn't given up playing but, being the age I am now, the fact that I've not played properly in 23 years and - most importantly - I didn't actually know anyone in any local bands meant my visions of returning to the stage were left lying in the gutter.  Until my lovely Bev turned up.

I knew both of us were taking a bit of a risk, as I was bound to be crap after not playing for so long, but she spoke to the rest of the band and said they were keen, and it would be good to have a 2-horn sax back line as it would suit the sort of music, so let's go for it.

She said the next gig would be in April so there was plenty of time for me to learn the songs and stuff.  And that's what I've been doing for the last 3 months.  I dug out my sax from the loft and got it repaired (which is what I was doing last Saturday in London) and started listening to the songs and transcribing the notes, preferably live versions as played by the band (who are 'The Fugitives', by the way) but if I hadn't got a live version, then the originals.  The music is 60s soul and R'n'B and is stuff that absolutely everyone knows.  Think 'The Commitments' and 'The Blues Brothers', that sort of thing.  Very popular with weddings, parties and business conferences.  More likely to get hired for paid gigs than younger rock bands because at least everyone knows the songs.

And the gig is TONIGHT.  Yes, I'm bricking it.  Bev came round this afternoon for a run through and we've discovered, sadly, that there are at least 3 songs in the usual setlist that I've had to learn from the originals which are, in fact, in a different key to the one the band plays in.  Arse.  There's not enough time to relearn them in the new key and I'm not that good at transposing while playing, so I'll either have to not play them, or just pretend or hopefully find one or two notes that are in the right key and just parp and toot those at relevant places until I can learn them properly.

God, there's nothing like being thrown in the deep end.

I've been keeping this under my hat until now in case it all went tits up - and there's still a pretty good chance of that happening - but I'm hopeful that it won't be a massive disaster so am risking telling you all now.

I'll let you know tomorrow how it goes.  Wish me luck.....

OMG!! David Bowie fans prepare to be horrified.....

One of my posts over the past weekend went into very lengthy detail about the massacring (is that spelt right?  Doesn't look right....) of some David Bowie classics that my long-suffering ears were subjected to.

I've managed to find the album just now, by Googling 'jazz version space oddity'.  It appears to be an album called 'Ground Control to Frank Sinatra' by Duffo feat. Jeff Duff.  The concept appears to be what it would sound like if Frank Sinatra sang some of Bowie's songs.  Which, frankly, isn't the worst thing I've ever heard of but why gild the lily?

Anyway, I've just hopped onto Youtube and I can't find any videos to show you, but I've found an Amazon link to the album which has 30-second clips of each track.  Here you'll find the songs I heard at the weekend - 'Sorrow', 'Changes', 'Rebel Rebel' (this clip of this one doesn't make it sound too bad but, believe me...), 'Space Oddity' and 'Suffragette City'.

I don't think I'll be buying the album anytime soon...

What - this thing? It's keeping my brains sharp, innit.....

First off, a word of warning, don't get too close to the screen, you might catch my Dreaded Lurgey.  Dunno where I've picked it up from 'cos I've not been near any sick people, but Sunday night I started to have a bit of a scratchy throat and on Monday woke up feeling like crap.

This was not good, not good at all.  You see, TLH and I are shameless homebodies, which means (rather obviously) we don't go out very much.  However, several months ago I bought tickets for us to go and see the Klaxons play at the HMV Forum, Kentish Town on Tuesday (yesterday).

I lurve the esoteric, psychonautical Klaxons - anyone who can combine lyrics about the Golden Dawn and science fiction space travel with fiendishly poppy and dancey tunes that get into your head and keep you awake at night is onto a winner with me.  Their latest album cover features a space-cat:

Here, have a video:



Anyway, there was no way on earth I was going to miss this, so TLH took me and my sinus infection up to London yesterday afternoon.  We decided to eat first in Chinatown and then head off to Kentish Town.  Got to Waterloo then hopped onto the underground with a view to getting out at Piccadilly and walking to Chinatown.

As we stopped at Piccadilly, we both spotted a chap getting off the train along with everyone else, and heading towards the exit.  We both stared at him, then at each other.  TLH said I had the biggest grin he'd ever seen.  We followed the passenger onto the platform and then up the stairs.  I was watching the reactions of commuters who passed him in the opposite direction.  Some just flicked their eyes sideways at him as he passed but showed no other reaction.  Others openly gawped, some young girls sniggered.  One young chap did a proper, cinematic double-take and muttered 'what the fuck?' as he drew level with us.

What was causing this reaction?  Why was I just so delighted that we had spotted him?  What was it about this middle-aged white male who dressed like a geography teacher in cords and tweed jacket and who carried a briefcase?

He was wearing a brass wire pyramid on his head.  As you do.

TLH decided we needed to follow him around the station for a bit, just to see what happened.  Mr Pyramid Hat didn't do anything unusual, he went to an ATM and then left.  And you'll be pleased to discover that we finally came to our senses to take some photos on our phones just so I could show you all.  The quality's not great but I hope you can make it out (click to embiggen):

It's a bold statement, I think you'll agree.  The genius of the look is that he appears perfectly ordinary (depending, of course, on your definition of 'ordinary') in every way.  Except for the pyramid on his head.  I was completely in awe and thrilled beyond measure.  I wanted to ask him what it was all about (although I did suspect it was probably a load of New Age 'healing' bollocks) and how he coped with peoples' reactions but we were running late and, anyway, I'm a bit of a coward and don't tend to talk to strangers, no matter how fascinating they might appear.

After we got home, I googled something like 'London man with pyramid on his head' and found a couple of references (some dating back 3 years or so, so he's obviously been committed to sporting this elegant headwear for a few years now) and a youtube video!



Fabulous!


PS.  The gig was fantastic, one of the best I've been to for years.  Amazing lightshow and the audience was incredibly enthusiastic and bouncy.  We're off to see 'post-punk doom mongerers' Interpol at Brixton Academy in early December, which should be different - our favourite song by them is purportedly to be about Rose West (as in Fred and .....).  Eclectic tastes R Us!

I love my mum....

No, really, I do, very much.

I mean, how could I not love a woman who rang me this morning to say, "Have you thought of what you want for Christmas yet? Only I've been thinking I could get you a piano accordion......."

I seriously cannot tell you how delighted that made me but also how sad because I had to turn it down.  Piano accordions are big buggers and our house isn't.  Plus I think the cats would probably pack their bags and take TLH along with them until I learned to play it properly.

And I could never look as good as this while playing it:

A good day, all things considered.

I am just back from the funeral and, I have to say, it was one of the best I've ever been to.  If you overlook the fact that the chapel at the crematorium couldn't look more like a nuclear bunker if it tried, that is, and the vertical rippled concrete strata behind the vicar kept making my eyes go funny; at one point I thought I was coming down with pre-migraine visual disturbances, but it was just the effect of the stripes.

The vicar gave a eulogy that was worthy of a good standup comic - she had great timing and had got some terrific anecdotes from my mother-in-law resulting in peals of laughter from the large congregation on several occasions.

But the thing that made this funeral stand out for me more than any other was the singing.  My father-in-law was quite a important cog in the wheel of the local church for many years, and they'd all come to pay their last respects. And many of them were in the church and/or local choirs.  And this is Wales - we're talking full-blown Welsh Male Voice Choir stuff here.  None of your lily-livered English tuneful warbling here, oh no, they filled their lungs and absolutely raised the roof, with proper harmonies and everything.  I was not expecting it.  I was sitting in the front row with the rest of the family, doing fine and not getting upset, until this unbelievably gorgeous noise hit the back of my head and that was it - in seconds my tissue was soaked with tears.  I cannot describe how fantastically moving it was, especially as the first hymn was in Welsh and I had never heard it before.  I really wish now that I'd had the foresight to try and tape it on my iPhone but you don't think about things like that during a funeral, do you? I found a youtube video of the hymn and have posted it below.  I hope you watch it, it's not long and the welly they give it at about the 2:00 mark is what I heard today - hair-raising stuff.

I'm so, so pleased it was this magnificent - they gave the old boy a rousing good send-off and it was a shame he wasn't there because he'd have loved it.  All funerals should be this good.

R.I.P. Rowland S Howard - gone to be an Immortal Soul

Rowland S Howard

1959-2009

The name probably will mean nothing to many of my readers, but Rowland S Howard was a defining presence in my musical life during the 1980s. Very sadly, liver cancer has taken him just as his career was beginning a resurgence, but it's good to know he was working right up until the end. I only have three guitar heroes, and he was one (Dave Gilmour of Pink Floyd and a friend of mine, Pete Martin, are the others).

He was the main guitarist in The Birthday Party (and, previously, when they were The Boys Next Door where he wrote 'Shivers') and created songs with huge wailing screeches of thrilling guitar noise layered over lyrics about the tortured pain of always being the outsider.  The album 'I'm never gonna die again' by These Immortal Souls is absolutely one of my all-time favourites.

A hugely influential guitarist, my life is certainly emptier knowing that he's no longer on the planet....

The Happiest Song on the Planet!

If you're feeling in any way glum, this will cheer you up - it has an animal disco and everything!!

20 Albums Part II

This is the second part of a rather lengthy posting on a meme I was sent way back in March that went: "Think of 20 albums that had such a profound effect on you that they changed your life or the way you looked at it. They sucked you in and took you over for days, weeks, months, years. These are the albums that you can use to identify time, places, people, emotions. These are the albums that, no matter what they were thought of musically, shaped your world."

The first 10 were dealt with then, now it's time to tackle the next 10. Are you sitting comfortably? Can you really be arsed to wade through this self-indulgent twaddle? Don't have anything better to do? No? Oh well then, we'll begin and may the best man win ....

Gilbert & Sullivan - Pirates of Penzance


My parents valiantly tried to get me to listen to classical music when I was growing up. And they succeeded (there's more about this below). Although not musically trained in any way, they appreciated that I enjoyed music very much and seemed to have an aptitude for it so I had both piano and cello lessons from quite a young age up until about 14 when fags, boys and booze became oh-s0-much-more desirable. I got up to Grade 5 on the piano which is not too shabby. I played in school orchestras and sang in school choirs. One of my mother's best friends was an accomplished amateur operatic society singer who eventually became a producer/director and every year I would be taken along to see her in whatever she was performing in. The very first show I saw her in was 'The King and I' in 1972 and I was 9 years old. If I remember rightly she played Tuptim, the King's first wife. She would also do Gilbert & Sullivan and I just loved the clever word-play and rumpty-tumptiness of the tunes. In fact, now I think about it, this was the very first live theatre I ever saw, so G&S has to go on the list for introducing me to anything at all being performed on a stage. I could've picked The Mikado or HMS Pinafore but I've gone for Pirates as it has a larger selection of hummable tunes. And the Pirate King looks good in tights.

Iggy Pop - Lust for Life


It was the late 70s, I was in love with David Bowie. Obviously I'd heard of Iggy Pop and The Stooges but, at the time, felt they were a little, shall we say, 'raucous' for my delicate teenage ears (I know, I know, and this is from someone who loved 'Never Mind The Bollocks' - hey, I was a teenager, but don't despair, there is hope...) Once again, I think I have to thank Jane Fewell (the older sister of my best friend at the time, Sue) for this one. She probably bought the album because David Bowie was on it, and you could clearly hear him doing backing vocals on tracks like 'Some Weird Sin' (at 1m50secs), so that was good enough for us. You all know stuff off this album - 'The Passenger' has been covered by everyone, and if you've ever seen the film 'Trainspotting' then you'll be well familiar with the title track so there's no excuse for feigning ignorance, people!

Klaxons - Myths of the Near Future
It dawned on me as I was putting this list together - and it hasn't escaped other people who've done their own lists - that most of the albums come from a specific decade. In my case it is the decade that covers 1975 to 1985 ... um, yeah, it is SO a decade... yeah, well, whatever...

Anyway, I got to thinking about more recent albums that I have seriously loved, one of which is the glorious 'The Trials of Van Occupanther' by Midlake. Seriously, who couldn't love lyrics about woodlands, boats and log cabins; telling oblique but moving tales of pioneering, travel and isolation. Midlake have been described as sounding as though someone has given a pair of guitars, synths and a drumkit to a Victorian orchestra and said "Here you go, make a band". Their lush harmonic melodies sound like Grandaddy mixed with a bit of Neil Young, Eagles and Fleetwood Mac, but in a good way. Here you are, check out the spine-tingling 'Head Home' or 'Roscoe'.

[While typing this, The Husband is standing opposite me trying to kick himself up the arse. I've offered to do this for him but he says he wants to practise. So unlike the homelife of our own dear Queen.]

Where was I? Ah yes, The Klaxons. Very hard band to pigeonhole. They were championed in the press as the instigators of something called 'Nu Rave' but this turned out to be completely made up. Released in 2007, the songs on 'Myths of the Near Future' are dense, highly danceable and have very interesting lyrics, often about ancient myths, magick, space/time travel and Aleister Crowley, all of which I was intensely interested in during my teens and twenties. This album made me want to go to gigs again. Just found a clip of them playing 'Gravity's Rainbow' and 'Golden Skans' on Live with Jools Holland - damn, they're cute too!

Oh hellfire, looking for Klaxon videos on Youtube I've just discovered the Interpol stuff. I LOVE INTERPOL. They sound a bit like Joy Division and have a bassplayer who looks like he's straight out of Kraftwerk. This particular track, 'Evil', has kept me awake on many a night - it's a very efficient earworm.

Lou Reed - Transformer

Songs about louche decadent New York bohemian lifestyles were just so exotic to my young ears. 'Walk on the wild side' felt dangerous when you're only 13 or so, and was the first song about a transvestite that I'd ever heard. Of course, the connection was Jane Fewell and David Bowie once more but I hadn't heard the album again for several years until in the early 80s I moved in with The Artist into the shared house in Guildford with Marilyn Girl, the Meditating Biker, the Mong Brothers and the Dominatrix, so this album connects both these periods in my life. It also has some fiendishly catchy tunes - I defy you not to sing along with "Hangin' 'Round".

Mike Oldfield - Ommadawn


Everyone knows "Tubular Bells", one of the most massive albums of the 1970s, selling possibly as many as 17 million copies worldwide and appearing on the soundtrack of 'The Exorcist'. I actually prefer "Ommadawn". Released in 1975 this is one of the most trance-like pieces of music I know. I used to listen to this in my bedroom, alone, in the dark, aged about 12. To me it's the musical equivalent of a person's journey through life. It's hard to describe, it builds and builds to a dramatic crescendo which, to me, sounds like someone passing through the gates of death to the enormity of heavenly brightness beyond. Yes, it's that big and, for an avowed atheist like myself, is an extraordinarily affecting piece of music. It instantly takes me back to my darkened teenage bedroom, grappling with concepts of life and death, to a time before my parents divorced and my life was stable and secure. I'd not heard it for many, many years and recently remembered how much I had loved it once, so I got hold of a copy just before last Christmas. Playing it again was instant time travel for me and I sobbed and sobbed. Plus there's a song about the joys of horse riding - "Hey, and away we go, through the grass, across the snow, big brown beastie, big brown face, I'd rather be with you than flying through space" which is delightful and touching. Buy this album if you don't have it. Seriously.

Nirvana - Nevermind


An album which changed the musical topography for a generation, 1991's 'Nevermind' brought the sound of American disaffected youth into all our living rooms. The track 'Come as you are' has a special resonance for me for reasons I'm not really going to divulge here. Kurt Cobain acknowledged the importance of the Pixies to him in writing this album, and they're mentioned further below. This album, to me, is the sociable flat in central Guildford that The Artist and I lived in which was, more properly, his art studio. Everyone knows about Nirvana, what more can I add?

Carl Orff - Carmina Burana



As mentioned above, my parents successfully introduced me to classical music before pop. The first vinyl albums I had bought for me were Dvorak's New World Symphony (also known as 'that one with the music from the Hovis ad with the little lad pushing his bike up a steep hill and freewheeling back down again'), Holst's Planet Suite, Ravel's Bolero, Saint-Saen's Danse Macabre and some Tchaikovsky. At some point in the early 70s the BBC showed a production of Carmina Burana on tv which we all watched at home, totally spellbound. I don't recall that much about it now except that, at one point, there were loads up people up trees, singing ... as you do. It was mental. And brilliant.

The well-known 'O Fortuna' was used at some point during the 70s in a TV advert for Old Spice aftershave that featured a surfer and some blonde bimbo tossing her hair around (found out later that she was the girlfriend at the time of the world motorcycle champion Barry Sheen - a heart throb of mine and therefore meant I hated her). It also appeared in the original 1976 film of 'The Omen' whence it has been associated with all things evil, which is a bit of a shame really, as it's a song about life being a continually revolving wheel of fortune and nothing satany at all. 'Whence' is a toothsome word that doesn't get used enough.

Anyhoo, in the late 80s, I sang in a scratch performance of this at Guildford Civic Hall - hundreds of voices singing, a small orchestra, it was sublime. I was quite brave - I'd seen posters stuck up about the town asking for amateur singers to come along to perform Carmina Burana in one day from scratch (hence the name) and thought that this was something I'd love to do. So I plucked up the courage to go along, on my own, to sing with a vast room full of strangers. It were grate!

So Carmina Burana again reminds me of my childhood and life with The Artist.

Pixies - Doolittle

This 1989 release was the second album from the Pixies and has the immaculate single, 'Monkey Gone to Heaven'. A massively influential band who never really made it to the mainstream, they sang songs about animals and UFOs, and often in Mexican Spanish. They instigated the quiet-loud-quiet style of song construction that Nirvana took to a larger audience. They were brilliant live, too. I saw them a couple of times in the early 90s with friends Nick and Anna who lived upstairs but one from The Artist and I. This was a pretty happy time for me.

Talking Heads - Fear of MusicThis was the first Talking Heads album that I'd heard, it belonged to The Artist. Brian Eno was the producer (can you spot the David Bowie/Brian Eno thread here?) and it was the first album I'd heard that flirted with mixing World Music into western styles (specifically the song 'I Zimbra'). This was released in 1979 and David Byrne and Brian Eno collaborated in 1981 on 'My Life in the Bush of Ghosts' which was the first time that samples were used on anything, so I was tempted to put that in the list. But I've yet to find a better track than 'Cities' (live footage, the track 'Air' is first which also good but hang on for Cities') off 'Fear of Music' to hoover the house to. Try it - you'll see what I mean!

Portishead - Dummy


'Trip Hop' was a musical style originating in the mid-90s among bands based in the Bristol area. Downbeat electronica music with a laidback ethereal feel, Portishead had an extraordinary sound. Spacey and filmic, this was the first 'new' musical style that I discovered with The Husband. Released in 1994, 'Dummy' for me represents the first year of blissful cohabitation with the (then) new man in my life. We were renting a (to me) huge 2-bedroomed bungalow with vast front and back gardens near Aldershot, within gunshot range of Ash Ranges. It was a time of intense loved-upness and new beginnings. Check out 'Sour Times' off the album

Anyway, if you waded through that lot you deserve a medal. And I'm sick of writing about myself so I'm going to shut up for a bit and continue encouraging The Husband in his self-punting activities.