Saturday, August 21, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The 49 Steps
15 Days, 1 Country, 49 Things We’ve Learned. Most of all that Spainland isn’t just for improving Spanish; In the words of Michelangelo, ancora imparo. Can’t just pick a normal quote, NAH?
Anyway:
1. How to create a “24-hour comedy show” out of perverted innocence.
2. What it feels like to be exhausted by experiencing as much as possible every day, being a “debauchery of dew” and surviving on 4½ hours sleep a night like a modern day Inigo Montoya.
3. That the foreign exchange rate really makes fourteen years equal to 19 years outside of Ireland and that George Harrison condoned this when he said we can “do it right child”.
4. How to sail, how to strand fat kids out in the ocean and how to not throw up on the boat when you’re lying over the front hippogriff-style in the middle of a semi-storm filled up with cake and Malibu. (thanks marina)
5. That Bambi’s mother DID die, mannings and that I fucking love yer work man!
6. How even 16-year-old racist, illiterate, ignorant, dog-abusive,
Anyway:
1. How to create a “24-hour comedy show” out of perverted innocence.
2. What it feels like to be exhausted by experiencing as much as possible every day, being a “debauchery of dew” and surviving on 4½ hours sleep a night like a modern day Inigo Montoya.
3. That the foreign exchange rate really makes fourteen years equal to 19 years outside of Ireland and that George Harrison condoned this when he said we can “do it right child”.
4. How to sail, how to strand fat kids out in the ocean and how to not throw up on the boat when you’re lying over the front hippogriff-style in the middle of a semi-storm filled up with cake and Malibu. (thanks marina)
5. That Bambi’s mother DID die, mannings and that I fucking love yer work man!
6. How even 16-year-old racist, illiterate, ignorant, dog-abusive,
dramatic, retarded, arrogant bitchtards can work out the cure for
cancer. And they express a LOT of joy in doing so. Let us explain..
CLICK TO ENLARGE --->
7. That falling on your head in the rain or walking into a bus pole is a great way to pick up chicks man! YEAAH!
8. The implausible beauty and freedom of going skinny dipping at 2am before some nutella and 75c sangria on the beach.
9. Some people learned not to underestimate the power of the playsuit, especially when it comes to perverted salsa teachers.
10. How you can pick up GAELIC or the Irish accent in just two weeks! (thanks ellie ya dumb fuck) Top o’ Tha Mornin’ To Ya!
11. That every cloud has a silver lining, that a violinist outside the window after our first all-nighter is NOT romantic and that acting like an insanely vulgar 7 year-old is better than being a self-conscious, staring French intern.
12. How loud fake vomit sounds can be in an empty classroom.
13. The assurance that love, motivation and unbelievable things are possible and that they’ll always come totally out of the azul.
14. The combination of bad first impressions, KISS MEHs, appreciating real beauty lad, cat noises, deep conversations, the fact that we are all Africa, the biggest ice-cream tub, bottle cap-drinking, obsessing, vulgarity, winky faces and toast-on-the-go makes for the beginning of a beautiful friendship. (thanks jess)
15. How To Embody/Stand Up For Your Country Abroad. (take that!) The cultural differences and the people made the place a ludicrous crossover point of personalities, in the same way with the characters in The Breakfast Club you could literally predict the contrasting adults they could/will grow into. Future inept doctors, gangsters, nervous wrecks, princesses, bohemians..
16. That reading someone’s diary doesn’t necessarily mean we’re going to hell..?
17. About a deep-as-fuck, hard-as-diamonds minor and his far from perfect life. That “childlike arms” have the power to capsize four people and the fun of having your knuckles raw after a riveting game of Cans. (thanks alex) Once more with feeling: AWWWWWWWWBOIIIIIIIIIZZZZZ!
18. That I DON’T KNOW HER, I DON’T KNOW HER! scares passers-by.
19. How shoulder licking, balcony spitting, crying and prancing away in the sea CAN be attractive. (thanks eva) Oh and that Americans are “all fucking retarded and loud”.
20. That doing the message-in-a-bottle cliché is easier said than done.
21. The effect of a young Mick Jagger repeatedly saying your name, knowing your can, smelling flowers, reading out love letters and climbing over tables, that eyes the colour of twice-frozen-over hershey bars are TOTALLY BOSS. (thanks rémi)
22. That prostitute vending machines from the future exist TODAY!
23. That in the end, the love you take really is equal to the love you make.
24. How face-cramp feels after eating crepes with the Snuggles Face. Also how to represen’ your hometown by constantly using the Snuggles Face in class.
25. That water is for drinking not throwing dear.
26. We learned how blonde cat mermaids don’t go to gamble, they go to DANCE!
27. How to lie, how to dance all night, act the Jason, eat nutella out of the jar, really experience flamenco, get past bouncers, re-gag, create the structure of this post, remember the Twist & Shout curse:( see the effect of half a maple syrup chupito, dónde mi comida era and that every country around Ireland ends with –land. (thanks jessica)
28. Let’s admit it: we learned that smoking is hot. Ah oui?
29. How to maintain self and nationality when away from home. That English really doesn’t suit the Irish soul when it comes to speaking, and swearing way too much does perfectly.
30. Even though there are still many anti-Semitic clubs and nautical arenas in Alicante, Papa G has some interesting views on the That’s What She Said debate.
31. How to avoid rapists while walking home alone by yourself by telling your phone what you did that day.
32. That Fridays the 13th have the potential to be the second best day of anyone’s life EVERRR. That perfect happiness is a combination of sailing, can-tops, vomiting, patriotism, playing some air-hockey, laughing, rain-sliding, singing and smoking the edge off, making someone happy, going to a Beatles concert, having a meaningful conversation, dancing until four and a wonderfully hysterical hug amidst a perfect goodbye. Or a “Biiiiiyyyyyyyeee!”.
33. Gur nach raibh sé ag féachaint. :L
34. Almost the lyrics of Waka Waka, how to be a middle-aged Irish woman to the T (thanks orla), that Withnail Y Yo is a universal indicator whatever the language and how burning your feet daily on sailing tiles feels.
35. MANY new phrases:
Aaww ellie boiz, We're just friends but he comes around for some casual sex once in a while.., When Winning Counts, "Dooonde esta mi comiiidaa?", QUEREMOS RIAAAA! Is that yer dad?, Bitchtard, My dad is Le Coque Sportif, Quiero jugar el teeeeeeeeeeeniiiiiis!, Mmmguuaaaapas, ARE YE GAY OR SOMETIN? "Irish? IRISH?", "You didn't kill me will your dragon flames..", Rough neighbourhoods, "A guy whistled at me and I..told him to F-Off", Swan man, If I Can't Have You, No-one Can, Ja mind saying that to my face?, butterface (thanks shakira), Mammy wouldn't like that at all, Dibs on focay!, Yoo thoy eba!, Ja wanna cry all over mo chorp nochtadh?, YO NO QUIERO AGUA, YO QUIERO BEBIDA!
36. Not to be a cocktease garl.
37. How it’s not right to cut off your leg at the knee when a 9 year old tells you that Paul McCartney said she was beautiful. Even if he did touch her face.
38. Whatever you do, going to sleep on a strange couch semi-exposed at 7 in the morning is only acceptable when you lock eye contact with the potential rapists.
39. That cockroaches can have many meanings, that I’m “quite funny!”, that he knew what dearcadh meant and why all the rum WAS gone. (thanks again eva)
40. That when Tobias is out, HE’S OUT!
41. That there were four guys and four girls, its fine for a 10 year old and a 17 year old to be together and that he DID know what he was doing Marina!
42. That disgusting €5 whiskey turns into golden snowflake juice when mixed with coke.
43. What it feels like to cry out the window of a taxi to the tune of Unbreak My Heart.
44. How to be sung All You Need Is Love by an engraver and how to connect to a stranger via a mini-concert with just a guitar, some voices and a bunk bed. (thanks tomas) OH and how to convert someone to Beatlemania! Whats that? “I’m sorry I dissed them, I was fucking retarded. The Beatles are genius”.
45. Not to be alarmed when a shiny German comes into your room at night to ask you to go to the beach. Instead, wrap him in a carpet to use as a handy torch. (thanks dennis)
46. How to be kissed by a stranger on the street, that planes with banners EXIST!
47. The origin of the swastika, how the hamster killed itself, how our blue-eyed Argentinean sailor children could have been, that Jess Is Mine, how to say Renatta, what raw fat tastes like, that marijuana is legal in small amounts in spain (ew), that Irish aren’t the only people who hate(d) the English and how pebbles and eyes are two things that should never meet. (thanks Fernando)
48. How to -wait – WAIT.. BLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCHHHHHHHHH!
CLICK TO ENLARGE --->
7. That falling on your head in the rain or walking into a bus pole is a great way to pick up chicks man! YEAAH!
8. The implausible beauty and freedom of going skinny dipping at 2am before some nutella and 75c sangria on the beach.
9. Some people learned not to underestimate the power of the playsuit, especially when it comes to perverted salsa teachers.
10. How you can pick up GAELIC or the Irish accent in just two weeks! (thanks ellie ya dumb fuck) Top o’ Tha Mornin’ To Ya!
11. That every cloud has a silver lining, that a violinist outside the window after our first all-nighter is NOT romantic and that acting like an insanely vulgar 7 year-old is better than being a self-conscious, staring French intern.
12. How loud fake vomit sounds can be in an empty classroom.
13. The assurance that love, motivation and unbelievable things are possible and that they’ll always come totally out of the azul.
14. The combination of bad first impressions, KISS MEHs, appreciating real beauty lad, cat noises, deep conversations, the fact that we are all Africa, the biggest ice-cream tub, bottle cap-drinking, obsessing, vulgarity, winky faces and toast-on-the-go makes for the beginning of a beautiful friendship. (thanks jess)
15. How To Embody/Stand Up For Your Country Abroad. (take that!) The cultural differences and the people made the place a ludicrous crossover point of personalities, in the same way with the characters in The Breakfast Club you could literally predict the contrasting adults they could/will grow into. Future inept doctors, gangsters, nervous wrecks, princesses, bohemians..
16. That reading someone’s diary doesn’t necessarily mean we’re going to hell..?
17. About a deep-as-fuck, hard-as-diamonds minor and his far from perfect life. That “childlike arms” have the power to capsize four people and the fun of having your knuckles raw after a riveting game of Cans. (thanks alex) Once more with feeling: AWWWWWWWWBOIIIIIIIIIZZZZZ!
18. That I DON’T KNOW HER, I DON’T KNOW HER! scares passers-by.
19. How shoulder licking, balcony spitting, crying and prancing away in the sea CAN be attractive. (thanks eva) Oh and that Americans are “all fucking retarded and loud”.
20. That doing the message-in-a-bottle cliché is easier said than done.
21. The effect of a young Mick Jagger repeatedly saying your name, knowing your can, smelling flowers, reading out love letters and climbing over tables, that eyes the colour of twice-frozen-over hershey bars are TOTALLY BOSS. (thanks rémi)
22. That prostitute vending machines from the future exist TODAY!
23. That in the end, the love you take really is equal to the love you make.
24. How face-cramp feels after eating crepes with the Snuggles Face. Also how to represen’ your hometown by constantly using the Snuggles Face in class.
25. That water is for drinking not throwing dear.
26. We learned how blonde cat mermaids don’t go to gamble, they go to DANCE!
27. How to lie, how to dance all night, act the Jason, eat nutella out of the jar, really experience flamenco, get past bouncers, re-gag, create the structure of this post, remember the Twist & Shout curse:( see the effect of half a maple syrup chupito, dónde mi comida era and that every country around Ireland ends with –land. (thanks jessica)
28. Let’s admit it: we learned that smoking is hot. Ah oui?
29. How to maintain self and nationality when away from home. That English really doesn’t suit the Irish soul when it comes to speaking, and swearing way too much does perfectly.
30. Even though there are still many anti-Semitic clubs and nautical arenas in Alicante, Papa G has some interesting views on the That’s What She Said debate.
31. How to avoid rapists while walking home alone by yourself by telling your phone what you did that day.
32. That Fridays the 13th have the potential to be the second best day of anyone’s life EVERRR. That perfect happiness is a combination of sailing, can-tops, vomiting, patriotism, playing some air-hockey, laughing, rain-sliding, singing and smoking the edge off, making someone happy, going to a Beatles concert, having a meaningful conversation, dancing until four and a wonderfully hysterical hug amidst a perfect goodbye. Or a “Biiiiiyyyyyyyeee!”.
33. Gur nach raibh sé ag féachaint. :L
34. Almost the lyrics of Waka Waka, how to be a middle-aged Irish woman to the T (thanks orla), that Withnail Y Yo is a universal indicator whatever the language and how burning your feet daily on sailing tiles feels.
35. MANY new phrases:
Aaww ellie boiz, We're just friends but he comes around for some casual sex once in a while.., When Winning Counts, "Dooonde esta mi comiiidaa?", QUEREMOS RIAAAA! Is that yer dad?, Bitchtard, My dad is Le Coque Sportif, Quiero jugar el teeeeeeeeeeeniiiiiis!, Mmmguuaaaapas, ARE YE GAY OR SOMETIN? "Irish? IRISH?", "You didn't kill me will your dragon flames..", Rough neighbourhoods, "A guy whistled at me and I..told him to F-Off", Swan man, If I Can't Have You, No-one Can, Ja mind saying that to my face?, butterface (thanks shakira), Mammy wouldn't like that at all, Dibs on focay!, Yoo thoy eba!, Ja wanna cry all over mo chorp nochtadh?, YO NO QUIERO AGUA, YO QUIERO BEBIDA!
36. Not to be a cocktease garl.
37. How it’s not right to cut off your leg at the knee when a 9 year old tells you that Paul McCartney said she was beautiful. Even if he did touch her face.
38. Whatever you do, going to sleep on a strange couch semi-exposed at 7 in the morning is only acceptable when you lock eye contact with the potential rapists.
39. That cockroaches can have many meanings, that I’m “quite funny!”, that he knew what dearcadh meant and why all the rum WAS gone. (thanks again eva)
40. That when Tobias is out, HE’S OUT!
41. That there were four guys and four girls, its fine for a 10 year old and a 17 year old to be together and that he DID know what he was doing Marina!
42. That disgusting €5 whiskey turns into golden snowflake juice when mixed with coke.
43. What it feels like to cry out the window of a taxi to the tune of Unbreak My Heart.
44. How to be sung All You Need Is Love by an engraver and how to connect to a stranger via a mini-concert with just a guitar, some voices and a bunk bed. (thanks tomas) OH and how to convert someone to Beatlemania! Whats that? “I’m sorry I dissed them, I was fucking retarded. The Beatles are genius”.
45. Not to be alarmed when a shiny German comes into your room at night to ask you to go to the beach. Instead, wrap him in a carpet to use as a handy torch. (thanks dennis)
46. How to be kissed by a stranger on the street, that planes with banners EXIST!
47. The origin of the swastika, how the hamster killed itself, how our blue-eyed Argentinean sailor children could have been, that Jess Is Mine, how to say Renatta, what raw fat tastes like, that marijuana is legal in small amounts in spain (ew), that Irish aren’t the only people who hate(d) the English and how pebbles and eyes are two things that should never meet. (thanks Fernando)
48. How to -wait – WAIT.. BLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCHHHHHHHHH!
49. Looking out at the unbelievably depressing Kerry rain, trying to pick up on some non-existent Wi-Fi before it comes to a week after Alicante when I post this, I’ve come to realise now just HOW much is going to happen after school. Like, home to me now just seems like the first wooden box in the Indiana Jones warehouse before the rows of fluorescent lights are switched on, revealing the miles of chests beyond it. Alicante was like the first light switching on, a preview of all the future potential. I feel like I did after other big experiences, that once again a little mound of inhibitions has been swept away (thanks yea French tease) or that those ever-looming crossroads aren’t so daunting. I’ve gained a herd of Antelopes Of Faith and being there for even two weeks illustrated what I/we are going to be working for in the next year. So I s’pose that All You Need Is Love, happiness, culture and independence. And a way to not make all this sound cheesy.
GRACIAS. Y VAMOS POR TOOODO.
♥♥♥
GRACIAS. Y VAMOS POR TOOODO.
♥♥♥
Friday, August 6, 2010
Sondheim Strikes Back
So, when I think about musicals, I think cheese, mainly; some catchy songs; romance; couple of gags; an attempt at a schocking twist; happy ending; good clean family fun. Sweeney Todd doesn't quite meet any of those criteria. It's soo much better.
Most of yez will probably have seen Sondheim's epic musical thriller as adapted to film by the wonderful Mr. Tim Burton, but, as is true in so many cases, the movie can never quite match the real thing. First of all, Cork Operatic Society's production showcases some genuinely outstanding talent, most notably Michael Sands (Sweeney), Deirdre Bashford (Mrs. Lovett), Molly Lynch (Johanna), and Jack Healy (Toby). I can assure you that all the cast can sing as well as act (sorry, Mr. Depp). Personally I am really proud of the Society for weathering the economic storm and producing such an amazing show pretty much against all odds, surely to be commended by all you culture vultures, hint hint nudge nudge.
Most of yez will probably have seen Sondheim's epic musical thriller as adapted to film by the wonderful Mr. Tim Burton, but, as is true in so many cases, the movie can never quite match the real thing. First of all, Cork Operatic Society's production showcases some genuinely outstanding talent, most notably Michael Sands (Sweeney), Deirdre Bashford (Mrs. Lovett), Molly Lynch (Johanna), and Jack Healy (Toby). I can assure you that all the cast can sing as well as act (sorry, Mr. Depp). Personally I am really proud of the Society for weathering the economic storm and producing such an amazing show pretty much against all odds, surely to be commended by all you culture vultures, hint hint nudge nudge.
At the risk of giving a history lecture, let me give a summary of the already short life story of Cork Operatic Society. In the semi-sham that was Cork's year as Capital of Culture in 2005, various artistic projects were launched, Opera 2005 and Cork Opera Works, of which I was a part. The year ended, and later on, a big mean ole recession chased the stripy tail of the Celtic Tiger right out of Cork, and along with it went its arts schemes. For a while it looked pretty darn gloomy for the country's single most popular pursuit. However, not to have their dreams quashed by lousy and unreasonable cutbacks, some people decided not to just accept the disappearance of support and funding and go on with the show. That is how the Cork Operatic Society was born. It's a voluntary affair, and the sale of tickets only just covers the cost of the company's shows, so nobody actually makes any money out of them. Their aim is "to present innovative and high quality productions of operatic and musical works to the public. In doing so, it also provides invaluable performance experience to its members". So bear all this in mind when you note the lack of superfluous props in the show. As if an unforgivingly low budget was not enough to challenge Team Todd, the venue for which the show was intended was quite literally swept out from under them. Perseverance, it would seem, is the Society's middle name, and they managed to get the show moved to the Everyman Palace, when other productions were simply abandoned.
The good news is, the society is thankfully reaping the rewards of its selfless and top-quality work. I was so happy to see that the tickets for opening night were sold out. I've seen two of the Society's shows - Candide and The Magic Flute, and both were incredible, so I had high expectations for The Todd. And it waaay exceeded them. On entering the lavish red theatre, the audience was met by what I think was the most arresting thing I've seen on stage. And this was before the show ever started. The whole cast was on stage, stark bloodstained sheets hanging above them , depicting scenes from a Victorian mental asylum. Sitting in the centre of the front row was the musical director, John O'Brien. Having been in his choir for five years, I recognised his Zone Face. The lights dimmed, he stood, the harrowing cries and demented rocking continued on stage. I already had goosebumps. The Company acted as narrators, telling the story of the Demon Barber after his and Mrs. Lovett's deaths, which gave the whole thing a really chilling feel.
Mr. Sondheim sure knows his stuff. The music in Sweeney is catchy, as it must be, but also rich and complex, and his lyrics are brilliantly sharp and funny. The plot is faultless. Together they create a truly entertaining and ironic piece - proper grown-up stuff. With a cameo form Corkonian treasure Cara O'Sullivan as Pirelli and amazing young talent like Lynch and Healy, complemented by an accomplished 35-piece orchestra, this show definitely won't disappoint. It's witty, poignant, creepy and often quite beautiful. I am seriously considering trimming my own beard from now on. People, the pies may be awful, but there are Magnums at half-time; student tickets are €15, only 2 nights left, so get yours NOW, for the closest shave you'll ever get...
£££
Friday, July 30, 2010
MY PORTABLE SISTINE CHAPEL
Inspired by John Lennon's Rolls Royce, Parnassus and dA s1xt33z, I've FINAAALY finished customizing my brand new Topshop backpack (eek!) just in time for Alicante, which I'm leaving for in a few hours. :)
The challenges so far for the two weeks? Skinny dip, try rum, mojito, rolled up cigarettes, have ice cream on the beach at night, facedown the shit outa the place, make a tan shape by strategically shaping sun cream, flirt in spanish, get a henna tattoo of the deathly hallows symbol (thanks, Marianne), go to xococoa as much as possible, seduce Jess in the style of House & Cuddy in last season's finale, kiss a spaniard, have coffee after a hangover and make sick jokes to new people to see if they're cool or not. OH and learn some spanish if there's time.
But anygay, back to the before und after photos.
The challenges so far for the two weeks? Skinny dip, try rum, mojito, rolled up cigarettes, have ice cream on the beach at night, facedown the shit outa the place, make a tan shape by strategically shaping sun cream, flirt in spanish, get a henna tattoo of the deathly hallows symbol (thanks, Marianne), go to xococoa as much as possible, seduce Jess in the style of House & Cuddy in last season's finale, kiss a spaniard, have coffee after a hangover and make sick jokes to new people to see if they're cool or not. OH and learn some spanish if there's time.
But anygay, back to the before und after photos.
TA-DAAH! Used the Beatles lyrics The End, Strawberry Fields Forever and Come Together ("he shoot coca-cola", GEDDIT?) plus Paul McCartney's Let Me Roll It ("You gave my loving in the palm of my hand.."). Very happy with how it turned out given that it really could have been a disaster..still don't know what the knife and fork is about buut..artisitic licence?
So it's adios for three weeks probably as the day after I volver from Alicante, I'm off to Kerry. Woah hello there anticlimax! But it only encourages me to do as much as possible now so I'll soon need a detox. Hasta luego, I plan on doing a returning post and Lolita post when I'm make where wi-fi exsists. Oh and Happy Birthday Harry Potter! Did you think I'd forget or something? Tsshyeah!
Over and Out. ♥♥♥
Friday, July 23, 2010
F*** IT ANYWAY.
What does it mean to feel bad about yourself?
Having low self esteem, getting far too tangled in your own negative thoughts 'till they develope into an emotional tornado, having an actual problem so big that you dont want to live to see another happy moment, not believing in that next happy moment , or 99% of the time: being ignorantly oblivious to all we have.
Even from the birds eye view I appear to have of this infectious illness, I cannot make head nor tail of it. After all, it is not something that can be cured by explaination, it's an uncontrolable weight that needs to defuse over time, until at last I can smile again, knowing that there is chocolate at the end of every cornetto (the light in the tunnel phrase never really appealed to me as much as ice-cream did).
So, why all the chocophilosophy you ask? Recently, by means of bad judgement and general teenage all-over-the-placeness, I managed to lose the trust of the most important people in my life. With these people being my only tictacs in previous events, and I being the only reason for our deterierating relationship, I hit an all time low.
Luckily, time did what it does best, goes the f*** on. It always reminds me of those who felt as bad as I did and didnt allow time to do its thing. So basically, just let it, kay? Ironically, I'm now running out of it and must wrap up this hopefully thought provoking blabber...
Anon.
Having low self esteem, getting far too tangled in your own negative thoughts 'till they develope into an emotional tornado, having an actual problem so big that you dont want to live to see another happy moment, not believing in that next happy moment , or 99% of the time: being ignorantly oblivious to all we have.
Even from the birds eye view I appear to have of this infectious illness, I cannot make head nor tail of it. After all, it is not something that can be cured by explaination, it's an uncontrolable weight that needs to defuse over time, until at last I can smile again, knowing that there is chocolate at the end of every cornetto (the light in the tunnel phrase never really appealed to me as much as ice-cream did).
So, why all the chocophilosophy you ask? Recently, by means of bad judgement and general teenage all-over-the-placeness, I managed to lose the trust of the most important people in my life. With these people being my only tictacs in previous events, and I being the only reason for our deterierating relationship, I hit an all time low.
Luckily, time did what it does best, goes the f*** on. It always reminds me of those who felt as bad as I did and didnt allow time to do its thing. So basically, just let it, kay? Ironically, I'm now running out of it and must wrap up this hopefully thought provoking blabber...
Anon.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
The False Four
So we had an intriguing and nostalgic evening a few fridays ago...
I spent the preceding week listening to nothing but Beatles albums and psyching myself up to ensure I got my €35 worth. I had a huge claw in my head for the gig. And it was awesome.
I consider myself insanely privileged to have seen 25% of the Beatles mere metres away from me, but obviously it's regrettable at times leading a life of such adoration without actually being able to see the people who have so affected me do what they did best. The Bootleg Beatles basically see people like me as walking dollar signs.
It wasn't quite what I thought it would be. First of all, the venue reminded me quite specifically of a ruined jail. And it was so small, secure and serene. I had been hoping, perhaps naively so, for some gen-yee-ine Beatlemania, and I just got asked my surname and whether had alcohol in my tiny bag. The support band, David whatshisface and what presumably were his 'Henchmen' came on and did their bluesy set, and then some familiar and distinctly teenage screams came form the speakers. They weren't blasted or anything, they were just like a muffled version of what I listen to on my recordings of Beatles concerts. So yeah, the atmosphere was interesting... Then the band came out, and I remained seated. For a brief moment I thought 'Is there really a point to this?' Yeah, they look like them, they sound like them, but part of me felt like this was blasphemy. Anywho, a couple of seconds in I was overcome with the urge to show my beehive off and I joined the two mad wans who were standing at the side of the seated crowd. Thankfully there were plenty other people dressed like hippies recapturing their youth, or, if they were from Ireland, probably re-writing it. Everyone was kind of awkwardly dancing, and the sun was kind of shining.
And then the band started talking in Liverpudlian accents, which I hadn't anticipated. Their mannerisms and expressions were absolutely perfect. It was incredible to hear my favourite songs live! And most importantly we got to show all the people over 40 that we knew the lyrics better than them. George kept imploring the crowd to start dancing, and by the time the band had changed into their Abbey Road gear, most people were on their feet. Those guys seriously deserve to be knighted or summat. Funniest Beatle-wife references EVER 2KX. Also, I hadn't listened to Hey Jude the whole way through since PAUL MCCARTNEY SANG IT FOR ME. So that was nice. I couldn't even look at the Paul dude in the eye even though we were like 6 feet away from him. Imagine staring at the real Macca! You'd have to flush your eyes with holy water or something...
To be honest, I've scoffed at many a tribute band in my time. I would not pay to see a random band pretend to be one of my favourite groups...but I think in this case it is perfectly justifiable. The Beatles' music is so special that I think it should not only be listened to and appreciated on records but enjoyed live! But more than that, I think that their spirit and personalities are more in danger of being forgotten. After all, the group stopped performing before [arguably] their finest music was made. And their performances were so natural and fun, which was conveyed so well by these guys. Even though they know as well as we do it's mainly about fun and paying homage, it's definitely entertaining and so worthwhile. Maybe it's silly if you think about four grown men in fancy dress covering songs and imitating accents, but to me, they are preserving something an important memory. It's history! However much anyone can dislike the Beatles and their music, their significance in music and in popular culture is indisputable. They were daring and innovative. They are an institution. Just witnessing this small-scale representation of their transformation and growth over a decade puts a lot in perspective for me as a Beatles fan. The sheer variety of their music amazes me. That's why you can do a fricking degree in The Beatles. I hope that seeing this band is on the syllabus for that.
£££
I spent the preceding week listening to nothing but Beatles albums and psyching myself up to ensure I got my €35 worth. I had a huge claw in my head for the gig. And it was awesome.
I consider myself insanely privileged to have seen 25% of the Beatles mere metres away from me, but obviously it's regrettable at times leading a life of such adoration without actually being able to see the people who have so affected me do what they did best. The Bootleg Beatles basically see people like me as walking dollar signs.
It wasn't quite what I thought it would be. First of all, the venue reminded me quite specifically of a ruined jail. And it was so small, secure and serene. I had been hoping, perhaps naively so, for some gen-yee-ine Beatlemania, and I just got asked my surname and whether had alcohol in my tiny bag. The support band, David whatshisface and what presumably were his 'Henchmen' came on and did their bluesy set, and then some familiar and distinctly teenage screams came form the speakers. They weren't blasted or anything, they were just like a muffled version of what I listen to on my recordings of Beatles concerts. So yeah, the atmosphere was interesting... Then the band came out, and I remained seated. For a brief moment I thought 'Is there really a point to this?' Yeah, they look like them, they sound like them, but part of me felt like this was blasphemy. Anywho, a couple of seconds in I was overcome with the urge to show my beehive off and I joined the two mad wans who were standing at the side of the seated crowd. Thankfully there were plenty other people dressed like hippies recapturing their youth, or, if they were from Ireland, probably re-writing it. Everyone was kind of awkwardly dancing, and the sun was kind of shining.
And then the band started talking in Liverpudlian accents, which I hadn't anticipated. Their mannerisms and expressions were absolutely perfect. It was incredible to hear my favourite songs live! And most importantly we got to show all the people over 40 that we knew the lyrics better than them. George kept imploring the crowd to start dancing, and by the time the band had changed into their Abbey Road gear, most people were on their feet. Those guys seriously deserve to be knighted or summat. Funniest Beatle-wife references EVER 2KX. Also, I hadn't listened to Hey Jude the whole way through since PAUL MCCARTNEY SANG IT FOR ME. So that was nice. I couldn't even look at the Paul dude in the eye even though we were like 6 feet away from him. Imagine staring at the real Macca! You'd have to flush your eyes with holy water or something...
To be honest, I've scoffed at many a tribute band in my time. I would not pay to see a random band pretend to be one of my favourite groups...but I think in this case it is perfectly justifiable. The Beatles' music is so special that I think it should not only be listened to and appreciated on records but enjoyed live! But more than that, I think that their spirit and personalities are more in danger of being forgotten. After all, the group stopped performing before [arguably] their finest music was made. And their performances were so natural and fun, which was conveyed so well by these guys. Even though they know as well as we do it's mainly about fun and paying homage, it's definitely entertaining and so worthwhile. Maybe it's silly if you think about four grown men in fancy dress covering songs and imitating accents, but to me, they are preserving something an important memory. It's history! However much anyone can dislike the Beatles and their music, their significance in music and in popular culture is indisputable. They were daring and innovative. They are an institution. Just witnessing this small-scale representation of their transformation and growth over a decade puts a lot in perspective for me as a Beatles fan. The sheer variety of their music amazes me. That's why you can do a fricking degree in The Beatles. I hope that seeing this band is on the syllabus for that.
£££
Monday, July 12, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
I've just seen a face, I can't forget the time or place.
*trumpet sound* SWITZERLAND WAS CLASS. I had planned on writing a post on how insane the art was, or how the architecture and make-up of the place was terrifyingly/brilliantly like a more beautiful Brazil, or even the incredible, all-you-can-eat chocolate factory in Lausanne. But all that was before I saw this walking (or should that be sitting?) monochrome blob of INNOVATION.
This happened when we went out to a beer garden in Zurich one night and I happened to look over at the table about three metres away from us. I know how stalker-y that sounds but it really was a (totally platonic) Lolita Moment. I'm not going to upload the photo that I forced my mom at bread-knifepoint to take, because a)It just doesn't sum it all up and b)Within three weeks, I WILL be a mirror image of this man.
I'm not sure what age he was..maybe mid-sixties and looked exactly like Vincent Van Gogh except smilier, with short white hair and beard & brownish-french skin. I should probably point out now before the gushing starts that I was purely interested in his clothes for the clothes themselves and not from a That Shirt Would Look Better On My Floor viewpoint. How eloquent I am!
Basically, the outfit he was wearing just..redefined EVERYTHING for me about the makeup of Style itself. Without making a statement and without being visually radical or futuristicly original in the colour or cut. And even though it was just a short-sleeved shirt, trousers in the same pattern and leather sandals, I have never in my life of scrutinizing fashion in magazines, blogs, films, music, seen anyone wear clothes like that. In other words, it was mind-blowingly original without being Lady GaGa or like, Isabella Blow.
Plus the elusive thing about it is that it wasn't depicting a named style or era, but instead it was as if he was literally draping his personality over himself in a display of indescribable self-expression. But this form was just a bi-product of his own sphere of identity and complexion and that he had just happened to be using the medium of clothes.
I suppose you could call the whole ensemble bohemian, but it's difficult to put a label on it, just as it's difficult to put labels on people's diverse personalities, unless they obviously fit into a box. An emo box, that is. Really it was a uniform, a way of portaying your own character in a very new & subtle way, like Edie Sedgwick or Margaret Tenenbaum.
Maybe the only way the science behind your personal uniform can be summed up is by Coco Chanel:
"Fashion is in the sky, in the street, fashion has to do with ideas, the way we live, what's happening".
So what this all comes down to? A total shtyle re-think. BYE BYE 60s.
♥♥♥
This happened when we went out to a beer garden in Zurich one night and I happened to look over at the table about three metres away from us. I know how stalker-y that sounds but it really was a (totally platonic) Lolita Moment. I'm not going to upload the photo that I forced my mom at bread-knifepoint to take, because a)It just doesn't sum it all up and b)Within three weeks, I WILL be a mirror image of this man.
I'm not sure what age he was..maybe mid-sixties and looked exactly like Vincent Van Gogh except smilier, with short white hair and beard & brownish-french skin. I should probably point out now before the gushing starts that I was purely interested in his clothes for the clothes themselves and not from a That Shirt Would Look Better On My Floor viewpoint. How eloquent I am!
Basically, the outfit he was wearing just..redefined EVERYTHING for me about the makeup of Style itself. Without making a statement and without being visually radical or futuristicly original in the colour or cut. And even though it was just a short-sleeved shirt, trousers in the same pattern and leather sandals, I have never in my life of scrutinizing fashion in magazines, blogs, films, music, seen anyone wear clothes like that. In other words, it was mind-blowingly original without being Lady GaGa or like, Isabella Blow.
Plus the elusive thing about it is that it wasn't depicting a named style or era, but instead it was as if he was literally draping his personality over himself in a display of indescribable self-expression. But this form was just a bi-product of his own sphere of identity and complexion and that he had just happened to be using the medium of clothes.
I suppose you could call the whole ensemble bohemian, but it's difficult to put a label on it, just as it's difficult to put labels on people's diverse personalities, unless they obviously fit into a box. An emo box, that is. Really it was a uniform, a way of portaying your own character in a very new & subtle way, like Edie Sedgwick or Margaret Tenenbaum.
Maybe the only way the science behind your personal uniform can be summed up is by Coco Chanel:
"Fashion is in the sky, in the street, fashion has to do with ideas, the way we live, what's happening".
So what this all comes down to? A total shtyle re-think. BYE BYE 60s.
♥♥♥
Thursday, July 8, 2010
I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.
My favourite scene from Edie Sedgwick's Poor Little Rich Girl. Just LOOK at the expressions..
♥♥♥
"For me it's all about juxtaposition.."
It's was raining from the first
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here..
And your long-time curse hurts
but what's worse is this pain in here,
I can't stay in here.
Ain't it clear that I just can't fit?
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit..
But when we meet again, Introduced as friends,
Please don't let on that you knew me when..
I was hungry and it was your world thenn..
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here..
And your long-time curse hurts
but what's worse is this pain in here,
I can't stay in here.
Ain't it clear that I just can't fit?
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit..
But when we meet again, Introduced as friends,
Please don't let on that you knew me when..
I was hungry and it was your world thenn..
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