Folk

I’m off to see Fairport Convention on Wednesday at the Roses Theatre in Tewkesbury and am certainly expecting a fine evening. I anticipate superb musicianship, a laid back, folky ambience and many a fine toe-tappin’ tune. There shall be no Andy Gill-type figures throwing electric guitars on the deck and reciting cold verse in a monotone over the feedback but Gang of Four was a one-off. This gig will provide different charms and will be welcome for all that.

There’s a couple of films I want to see at the Roses: Napolean Dynamite and A Very Long Engagement. I shall try and buy tickets on Wednesday.

A Prefuse Sunday

Gosh, I’ve been busy today, the upside being that I have been able to play plenty of fine music as I have worked. Prefuse 73’s ‘Vocal Studies and Uprock Narratives’ has been banging out of my speakers aplenty. This is a cracking recording, full of funky samples and bass heavy riddims (sorry, S) and somewhat unusual for a Warp Records CD for those very reasons. My word, it borders on hip-hop at times. Of course, I have borrowed the expression, ‘Uprock Narratives’ for the title of this self-indulgent bag of tosh along with an unsubtle Joy Division reference. I note that Prefuse 73 are playing this Easter’s All Tomorrows Parties festival along with Suicide and Blues Explosion and many acts I have never, ever heard of.

Short term vs Long term

Been busy today but will need to even busier on the morrow. However….

Gloucester 28 - Worcester 16
I’m quietly pleased. I’ve been guilty recently of thinking short term about my favourite sporting club and moping somewhat instead of gazing wistfully into the future and imagining a rosy future involving quality centres and big, ugly lock forwards. I don’t think Gloucester are a long way from becoming a very tidy outfit and, with a clever summer recruiting folk worthy to wear that shirt, we should compete more next term. However, longing for 05/06 is the equivalent of wishing one’s life away so it is important, starting today, to appreciate the finer aspects of watching the cherry and whites. I would have settled for the dourest of 3-0 mud fests today and it reflects Gloucester’s superiority over a frankly limited Warriers (snigger…) fifteen that I left the temple of the oval ball regretting a lost chance for a bonus point.

Gloucester played with plenty of passion and a few players seemed to be leaving a period of iffy form behind them. Jake Boer covered a lot of ground today, and, ok, if he wasn’t sprinting fifty yards and sidestepping hither and thither, then he was doing all the murky spadework that he revels in. And murky spadework in, er, spades is precisely what the club needs. The captain played very well and was my man of the match. Henry Paul had his best game for a long while. His shimmy-shally to set up the noble Terence ‘Cigs’ Sigley for the last try was worth the admission price alone. He just seemed keener than he has done for a long while to me. Perhaps it’s a confidence thang. My final candidate for a ‘back on form’ gong was Andrew Gomarsall who was a dogged soul and harried his opponents all afternoon. His charge down and score was well deserved. He hope he stays at the club but only if he is sensible about his wage demands.

My other thought about today was how the inclusion of Sigley instead of Bezuidenhout has improved the side considerably. The affable ex-bouncer is swifter and smarter around the park than the monster South African and adds a new dimension to our play. Finally, I also would rather see Thinus Delport in a Gloucester 15 shirt than Jon Goodridge but today Goodridge, I admit, outshone the South African World Cup star. His kicking and positional sense were spot on while Delport would have struggled to catch his breath.


S pointed out to me earlier that on Wednesday my posting mentioned the Gang of Four song, ‘I Found the Essence Rare’. Of course I meant ‘I Found that Essence Rare’ and I simply can’t apologise enough.

I enjoyed the first programme in BBC4’s series, ‘Jazz Britannia’ although I have always shied away from Trad. Jazz with all its Acker Bilk and Midnight in Moscow connotations. It is a shocking confession but I think if I’d been around in the fifties I’d have been wearing a tatty turtleneck, beret and goatee with the best of them. I may have ejaculated the occasional, ‘Daddy-o!’ too. On the strength of the show I have added Stan Tracey’s Under Milk Wood to my Amazon wish list. According to the British Council’s website, of all places, it is a ‘masterpiece that single-handedly defined UK jazz’ and one of the top 30 British CDs of all time.

Points to prove

With Bath playing at Wasps tomorrow and Saracens defeating Newcastle this evening, a win for Gloucester will propel the club to fourth place in the Premiership. Such a high position would prove an enormous fillip for the city but Worcester are no pushovers and in Delport, Gillies and Windo have three players with huge points to prove on their return to Kingsholm. Delport should never have been allowed to leave Kingsholm, Windo was axed controversially, and, in my opinion, correctly, by Saint-Andre, while Gillies made little impact in his short time at the club but, I believe, deserved a longer contract. Worcester will prove a cussed side and with the canny Andy Keast calling the shots will be well drilled and slick. The Gloucester old heads will need all their experience if Gloucester are to continue rising from the doldrums and sneak a win. Vickery, Boer, McRae and Gomarsall all need huge games. It will be mighty close and I will settle for any win.

I haven’t played any reggae for a while and may put that right this weekend. I shall dust down one of my Trojan collections and it shall guide me as I trawl through all the work I need to do on the computer this weekend.

S called and is still raving about Gang of Four. It was a remarkable evening, twenty-five year old songs sounding utterly contempory and at the sharpest of cutting edges. I played ‘Anthax’ earlier this evening and it sounds unlike anything in my CD collection. Compelling and, it has to be said, almost dangerous. I searched for the lyrics earlier because I was desperate to know what Andy Gill mumbles as a backdrop to Jon King’s main vocal. This is what I found.

Situationist critiques and new centre three-quarters

I have been immersing myself in all things Gang of Four for the past day or two, so stunned was I after the incredible performance by the band on Tuesday. A few online news stories caught my eye and each contains a cracking line or two. The New York Times, reviewing a London gig, states, ‘Clank. Clank. Clank. Clank. Jon King, lead singer of the Gang of Four, was methodically bashing a metal rod against a microwave oven that he found at a recycling dump.’ He did that at Bristol too - very powerful. I love this throwaway Jon King line from Scotland on Sunday: ‘Obviously I was interested in Situationist critique and things like that. Consumerism and this self-commodifying thing; the idea that we start to participate in our lives like we’re watching someone else’s movie.’ There is only one Gang of Four.

I have been playing The Futureheads’ debut album (produced by Andy Gill actually) to death in the car. Add a spoonful of The Jam’s ‘’A’ Bomb in Wardour Street’ and ‘To be Someone’, mix with a cup of ‘This is Pop!’ by XTC, pour in a quart of Gang of Four’s ‘Damaged Goods’ and you get this. It has really grown on me. The two minute pop song returns. Welcome back.

I popped over to Kingsholm last night to hear Nigel Melville’s words of wisdom and came away reasonably upbeat. It appears we are to recruit busily in the summer and a new lock and something decent (at last!) in the centre may heading our way. A win (any win!) this Saturday against an enthusiastic Worcester side will see another log tossed onto the flickering feel good fire that Stade rained on big style a week or two back. Of course one is welcome to replace 'rained' with a word of your own choosing.

I'm going to watch Fahrenheit 9/11 tonight.

D'You Wanna be in my Gang?

Gang of Four at the Bristol Academy 25.1.05
Gang of Four make art. This was raw, uncompromising product, forged in bleak industrial landscapes, still pertinent, still engaging, still challenging two and a half decades on. I found the proceedings compelling. Andy Gill’s fractured, individualistic, spare, fragmented guitar confronted the audience all night. He looked the part too, intense and detached. Jon King’s vocals were haunting and pleading. This was not easy listening but there was an emotional edge to the voice that spilled into King’s at times frantic, at times slightly bewildered stage presence. The songs, of course, were mighty and all the classics were proffered: ‘To Hell with Poverty’, ‘Anthrax’, ‘Damaged Goods’, ‘At Home He’s a Tourist’, ‘I Found the Essence Rare’ and so on. There were few choruses. There were fewer laughs. Angular rhythms and distorted feedback drove the evening. It was wonderful.

The Guardian’s report of the Manchester leg of the tour made fine reading and one sentence in particular had me purring: ‘Clearly, banter is still bourgeois - the band's sole pre-encore between-song chat is a quip about deconstructionism’. Today I discovered that the band’s Andy Gill is not the same Andy Gill who writes music criticism in The Independent. I also found this fine piece about drummer Hugo Burnham, now an Art teacher in Boston who resembled anything but last night in his England football shirt and joggers.

Glos to Sink Bath (pun) - Hopefully

As suggested last night, the city’s finest chance of winning the Powergen Cup was to draw Bath at home and that is the tie that has emerged from the hat tonight. I’ll certainly settle for that. Hopefully we can find a tad more confidence within the squad by then, James Simpson-Daniel will move inside to provide the midfield with more creativity and the correct balance in the front, second and back rows will be discovered - by live sacrifice ritual if need be. I am still unclear what a home draw actually means. Do we play Bath at Kingsholm Stadium or merely at a large venue of our choice near to Gloucester? Oh, what a palaver!

I sense a war of words brewing in the respected sports pages of The Citizen. Andy Gomarsall keeps banging on about how much he loves the club, how much he wants to stay, how badly he wants a new contract to be signed, even how a supporter came up to him at the weekend and told him he wanted to have Andy’s babies. That’s a Lloyd Cole reference by the way. Tonight Melville, very pointedly I thought, wrote in his column that the club rarely saw its England players so they should be reasonable in their wage demands. I don’t dislike Gomarsall although for a so called international class player I would have expected more than the occasional match for the city where he has actually bossed proceedings noticeably. I also think he’s a bit of ‘a tart’ at times, kissing the badge and overdoing the ‘we are not worthy’ muppetry. I would rather he remained at Gloucester but if he thinks he is worth 170K he can shove off to Saracens or another soulless shack.

Challenging lo-fi electronica

I have heard not a note of their music but I like the idea of Fotomoto, a band who play ‘shimmering dream-pop’, hail from the Ukraine, and were discovered by dear old John Peel last year. This article from today’s Observer Music Monthly paints a bleak picture of the alternative music scene in the former Soviet state. Pirating of Western tripe is rife while non-conformism is unusual and mainly exists of death metal and a folk music style called chanson that celebrates the criminal underworld. Fotomoto seem to stand beatifically above all that and I shall certainly investigate them more.

Alas, one is unable to order any Fotomoto via Amazon and the only way to get hold of their stuff is to email a geezer in Stoke-on-Trent. I have, however added three CDs to my Amazon wish list today, none of which have yet been released. Heck, I’m so cutting edge. They are the forthcoming albums by Athlete, LCD Soundsystem and Lemon Jelly. I also added an MP3 player to my extravagant collection of earthly desires, an ickle Zen Micro. I have fallen prey to the powers of advertising. They look so cute. I really want one. But which colour?

It’s the draw for the Powergen semi-finals tomorrow and there seems to be the possibility that it won’t be neutral venues. Having never seen Gloucester win a home semi - yet lose plenty, mainly to Bath - perhaps I shouldn’t hope for a Castle Grim extravaganza but, of course, I do. For those who cannot wait until tomorrow evening I have conducted my own randomly generated draw: Gloucester vs. London Irish and Bath vs. Leeds. So, a Gloucester/Bath final beckons. Actually, ever pragmatic, I would probably say that Gloucester facing Bath at Kingsholm represents the city’s best chance of winning the whole darned thing and would let the Cherry and Whites avenge a fistful of semi-final horrors against the shamateur toffs.

During a lull in yesterday's play, I suggested to S that we formed a challenging lo-fi electronica duo along the lines of Autechre or Boards of Canada. We would call ourselves Seti Kiole and be terribly obtuse and high brow. Of course, this will never actually happen. But I did browse Ebay for synths earlier just in case.

The Magic of the Cup

The Fall documentary, eagerly anticipated, contained plenty of fantastic clips but I’m not convinced I actually learned anything dramatically new about Mark E Smith and his assorted sidekicks. I found the figure of Martin Bramagh quietly fascinating although he merited little mention in the programme. Here is the one figure in the history of the band who once shared, in the early days, joint artistic control with Smith. He returned after the break-up of Smith’s marriage to Brix and obviously there were difficulties then. I wanted to hear more. It was fine to watch hardy and loyal Steve Hanley being interviewed and the early zeal of Marc Riley and his candid, good-humoured accounts of being treated rather shabbily were interesting too. All in all I enjoyed the latter clips of the Peel Session rehearsals and the London gig from last year, around the time I saw them, on sparkling form, at Bristol. I note they’re touring in March and hope for a local concert. This is a cool group. This is a cool group.

I am grateful to D and A for the surprise video they passed on to me after the game: a copy of the 1982 Gloucester vs. Moseley cup final, a dour but tense drawn affair that I sat down and watched on my return from Kingsholm this afternoon. It was the Rugby Special highlights show with Nigel Starmer-Smith in full V-necked jumper glory absolutely desperate for the city club to lose. It was fine to watch old heroes trotting around looking very young. Paul Taylor, my old favourite, looked a thoroughbred in the centre as usual while Malcolm Preedy, Mike Teague and John Gadd were livewires in attack and showed why they would have thrived in the professional era. I enjoyed the delirious pitch invasion at the end especially as C and I were part of it but sadly I was unable, despite freeze frame antics, to locate the pair of young scamps who were enjoying their first trip to HQ that day.

Gloucester 21 - Bristol 0
I am content that Gloucester have reached the Powergen Cup semi-final and, ultimately, the result was everything today. The demons of last week are not yet exorcised but at least we ‘nilled’ our worthy, keen opponents and provided if not passages of fine play then at least some glimpses of decent endeavour. Seti Kiole had his best game for the club and made one barnstorming run in the second half that left a trail of defenders in the Tongan man-monster's wake. I believe Jake Boer deserves a mention for a hardworking display while it was a toss-up between a determined Andrew Hazell and a cool headed Duncan McRae for man of the match. The BBC award went to a member of the losing team, Jim Brownrigg. If he was that mighty why did his team fail to score? The award was, I believe, a calculated insult towards the Cherry and Whites. Today’s result was never in doubt but next week’s visitors, Worcester will not be such a pushover. This is just what the club needs, a series of tests that gradually grow in severity as we approach the ‘business end’ of the season. Any win next Saturday is crucial.

Enthusiasm 0 - Loyalty 1

Not sure what to think about the big game tomorrow but I approach it with little enthusiasm but with plenty of loyalty towards my club. Spoke to S earlier and we both agreed that Gloucester will hammer Bristol tomorrow. I predict a win by 30 points. I just hope the large margin of victory does not paper over the cracks in the team. I note that a last minute try and conversion sealed victory for Bath over Sale tonight. What price, 15 years after the event, a chance to return to Twickenham to avenge the debacle of 1990?

S mentioned a Twisted Folk evening at St. George's Hall in Bristol. Must investigate. It is during half term. I like the venue very much having seen an astonishing set from The Tindersticks there a year or two ago.

Looking Ahead

Almost Friday. Plenty to look forward to. Friday night it is The Fall documentary. Saturday brings the voyeuristic pleasure/displeasure of watching the latest episode in the soap opera, ‘Gloucester RFC’. Sunday will be Sunday and I believe there‘s an Observer Music Monthly out. Monday, I’m taking Theo, for the first time, to a meeting of the Woodcraft Folk, a sort of scouts for hippies by all accounts, and I’m keen to discover what that’s all about. On Tuesday there’s a school chess match (and I confess to enjoying this more than the rugby at times, especially as silverware is within our grasp!) followed by the highlight of the year thus far, Gang of Four at the Bristol Academy.

Summer is a while away but I’m looking forward to a week in Dingle immensely. I’m supping plenty of ‘English Guinness’ so the ‘Irish Guinness’ will taste all the better in August. The research is certainly fun.

Getting it Taped

Not owning a CD player in the car I have to rely on the radio and tapes for in-car entertainment. This evening I have made a cassette for the journey to and fro work. The Futureheads’eponymous debut is the ‘A’ side, a jagged little pill and a buzzing collection of short, quirky songs. The same could be said of Pere Ubu’s The Modern Dance, the other side, a burst of punk/funk rhythms that sounds fantastic and contempory 26 years after its release. Both albums are less than 40 minutes long which is exactly as it should be.

Something is certainly, if not rotten, then slightly ‘on the turn’ in the state of Kingsholm. The inquest into last weekend’s defeat against Stade rumbles on and the negative postings on the message boards outnumber the more upbeat ones by roughly twenty to one. My mood remains reflective and I suppose my main sense of disquiet is that the club never seem to get it quite right and sustain a period of development and growth. I thought the world was our oyster two or three years ago but we appear to have gone backwards at an alarming rate with key players not replaced adequately and the quality of the football certainly lacking the verve and invention of our Powergen Cup winning year. I consider that the morning Tom Walkinshaw opened his bank statement and discovered he wasn’t as flush as he once was coincided with the start of the club’s decline. I note that the once very vocal and extrovert Scot seems much less keen to address the masses at Kingsholm. I wonder why.

I do adore BBC 6Music not just for the high quality of the music the digital station plays or for the intelligence of the presenters who all know their stuff and are genuine fans as opposed to being mere ‘celebrities’. I like the station for its competitions and the Cole family has this week clocked up its ninth - ninth! - prize, a rather wonderful Martin Scorcese box set.

Citizens in my street are also partial to this

Am looking forward immensely to this Friday’s TV screening of The Wonderful and Frightening World of Mark E Smith, a new documentary on the history of The Fall. It is unusual for Mark E Smith to cooperate with the media but, by all accounts, he features heavily in the programme which promises plenty of archive footage to purr about. It appears the infamous New York on stage punch-up of a year or two back is included along with other treats for the Fall cognoscenti. I first saw The Fall in 1987 and last saw them a few weeks ago. The buzz was similar. This is a cool group. This is a cool group.

The set lists, courtesy of the official Fall site, were as follows:
1987 (Cheltenham Town Hall): Shoulder Pads / US 80s-90s / Gut of the Quantifier / Mark'll Sink Us / Hey! Luciani / Haf Found Bormann / Australians in Europe / Terry Waite Sez / Get A Hotel / Guest Informant / Ghost in My House / Bombast / Twister / Frenz / Mr Pharmacist / Lucifer over Lancashire

2004 (Bristol Bierkeller): The Joke / Mountain Energei / Mod Mock Goth / Theme from Sparta FC / Wrong Place, Right Time / Mr Pharmacist / What About Us? / Big New Prinz / White Lightning / Blindness

A great Mr Pharmacist double.

Short Posting

Twenty-four hours on and the disappointment is still there but am feeling a touch more rational and less ‘sack 'em all’. It’s late so I won’t ruminate too much but I see Olly Morgan is fit for tomorrow’s match at The Army and that Ryan Lamb is playing too. Lamb is one player I’d pay good money to watch - and he’s only 18 - and I like the look of Morgan too. So there are positives…

Buried

Gloucester 0 - Stade Francais 27
I had travelled to the match more in hope than expectation but nothing could really prepare me for the woeful performance that the city dished up in the first half. It was suggested that the game was over when Adam Eustace dropped the kick -off, giving Stade a solid platform in the Gloucester 22 and preventing the home players from launching a raucous raid from the off. As it was Gloucester at 3-0 down appeared to think they had to chase the match and a host of knocks-on, poor decisions and gifted opportunities presented Stade with three simple tries. At least by keeping the second half score at 0-0 provided the team with a soupcon of pride but this was simply not good enough. For now I will give the coaching staff the benefit of the doubt but we need to rebuild desperately and the woeful Garvey, disinterested Paul, one-dimensional Fanolua and lightweight Goodridge would be first on my list to seek pastures new. Simpson-Daniel looked class and Balding, when he finally emerged, showed what it should mean to play for the city. It is damning to think that an ex-Tiger should be the role model for the others wearing the crest.

I enjoyed a plaintive cry from a female supporter near us, just before half time. ‘For heaven’s sake, Gloucester, show some compassion!’ We all knew what she meant but her actual words were oddly apt.

The forthcoming matches against Bristol, Worcester, and Harlequins are now crucial. They were always going to be more important than today's weird affair but they represent three games we simply have to emerge victorious from.

Lamb among the Bees

One of the brightest talents in the Gloucester squad is young Ryan Lamb who, in the ‘A’ team matches I have attended, has emitted gasps from the crowd at his attacking verve and skill. I would regard him as the most exciting young player to emerge since Simpson-Daniel burst onto the scene. I had hoped he might feature in recent games, at least from the bench, when McRae, Amor and Davies have all been suffering from injury. In fact I would put him above Brad Davies in the pecking order at Kingsholm. As it is, Lamb has joined Pertemps Bees on loan and it is no surprise to read of a startling debut for the youngster splitting the London Welsh defence to create the try of the match.

I have been busy working on the computer all day and have enjoyed the company of the idiosyncratic Beck, having been playing the maudlin and tender Sea Change album again and again. It has the delicate, almost ethereal charm of a lost Nick Drake recording, defiantly downbeat and autumnal. Elements of it - especially the understated guitar - reminded me slightly of another lost classic Tracey Thorn’s A Distant Shore, one of the records of my youth.

A Worthy Mention for Timothy Smith

Thankfully I have got a ticket for the Bristol match having been, without realising it, on a waiting list for a ticket, a number of which arrived, unsold, from our West Country rivals. My delight on the phone was not matched by the girl-youth at the GRFC office who’s apathy brought a new meaning to the word. Of course, the big game is this Sunday and it shall prove either to be the greatest game of this century or the dampest squib of all time. James Forrester starts in place of the admirable Adam Balding, my player of the season thus far. The make up of the back row has proved the focus of much debate on the Chronicle and for the life of me I am not sure of the most effective trio. The nagging doubt remains that the mighty Boer should, on form, the player who makes way but this is unthinkable, verging on the blasphemous. Who’d be a coach.

The other major talking point is whether Jon Goodridge is deserving of the fair amount of criticism that has headed his way. I’m afraid to say that I regard the fellow as the weak link in the current side, decent in attack, strong at kicking but not up to Premiership standard defensively when tackling, covering space or fielding high balls. Thinking about it, fullback is the one position where I have seen fewest incumbents in a particular shirt. Tim Smith made the position his own for years (and, oh, for his swagger and poise now) while Chris Catling spent a number of seasons as the bravest tackler in the league and one of the canniest counter attackers around. A few cameos from the likes of Marment, Mapletoft and Delport all impressed in various ways and in all cases I was more than happy to see their names on the team list. Sadly, this is not the case with Goodridge whom I feel will never quite make the grade. In the short term I feel our inexperience in the back three will prove the difference between the two sides this Sunday.

I always shied timidly away from the experimental, space rock outfit, Godspeed You Black Emperor!, fearing their rambling, post-rock musing might be beyond the pale for me. However, I adore their album, Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven, a Christmas present and a welcome addition to the Cole CD collection. The music builds gently to shimmering crescendos and there are plenty of drones for those who admire them and, frankly, you can never have enough droning in my opinion. The musicianship is studied and intelligent and really rather beautiful. I was playing this earlier and am rather keen to investigate more of their back catalogue. They're Canadian. Don't allow this to put you off though.

I'lll Get a Ticket Somehow....

Whoops. I've come a cropper and left it far too late to get a ticket for the upcoming Bristol cup match. Targeting the remaining 350 tickets (well, just one of them actually), I phoned the club yesterday morning and thought I'd got lucky. Alas, a phone call today confirmed the worst and I have not been fortunate and as things stand I shall miss my first home game since the home draw against Richmond six or seven years ago*. I shall pull out all the stops to obtain one but, if I fail, I'll watch the game on the box and save my pennies for the semi-final. How's that for a bit of confidence?

*I was watching Cheltenham Town vs. Canvey Island in the FA Trophy. Not a proud boast.

Join the (American Music) Club

S has got a ticket for me to see American Music Club at Birmingham Academy next month. I did enjoy the AMC’s earlier albums with their world weary, laconic lyrics and, at times, stirring melodies on, especially Engine and California both of which, incredibly, were released during the 1980s. Last year the band came back onto the scene with Love Songs for Patriots which I own (a signed copy no less) but have not played a great deal. On first hearing it seemed a little one paced and, dare I say, dull but I should give it another chance perhaps. With Gang of Four coming up along with the eccentric, nay whimsical, Lemon Jelly in March and Mick Jones/Tony James at The Guildhall I have plenty of live acts to look forward to. S is lobbying me to see the reformed Wedding Present at the Bristol Fleece and Firkin too and S2 is keen - as am I - to go and see those lovable mockneys Athlete at Bristol Academy.

Three days to the ‘miracle match’. If only! Simpson-Daniel is considered doubtful for the game with his surgeon rather reticent about letting the wunderkind loose. Melville seems to agree - a case of slamming the stable door after the horse has bolted methinks. One of my favourites, Duncan McRae, is likely to play and we will need the little genius to wear the ten shirt if we are to have any chance of upsetting the odds. His guile, poise and Aussie grit might just prove the difference between qualification and disappointment.

Taking the Michael out of Bath

I’m not sure what to think about the reports linking Bath and England centre Mike Tindall with Gloucester. My concerns lie with the amount of time an England player would be away from his club and whether the £150,000 per annum we are offering the fellow constitutes v.f.m.. I do believe Tindall to be a fine player though, nothing flashy, but the sort of rugged, uncompromising footballer we could probably do with. I would ditch the disappointing Mauger completely, retain Fanolua as a sort of squad dude and all-purpose large-haired talisman and partner Zara’s bloke with Henry Paul. On balance I hope the guy joins if only to create a minor feel good factor at a time when the club needs some hearty news to cheer us.

Spoke to S on the telephone and discussed revision for the upcoming Gang of Four concert. We both anticipate that most songs will be from the astonishing debut Entertainment and so this shall form the backbone of my listening for the next fortnight. If they open with At Home He’s a Tourist, I may have to leave after only forty seconds as nothing thereafter could ever improve upon Andy Gill’s fractured, angular guitar intro to the song. I fear it would be downhill from there however fine the rest of the set might prove.

Prefab Sprout in Hummable Chorus Shock

Perhaps I shouldn’t have chided the ‘hummable chorus’ yesterday as for a few days my motor car has been shimmering gently as hummable chorus after hummable chorus has floated ethereally out of the stereo. I have reacquainted myself with Prefab Sprout’s Andromeda Heights which sounds absolutely gorgeous to the extent that I’m thinking the unthinkable and starting to consider it better than Swoon, Steve McQueen and even the forgotten classic Protest Songs. I’m all for the clever, well-crafted popular song and here are twelve that include that rare tenet: the ability to move the listener. Beautiful. Hummable choruses are back in.

To progress to the last eight in Europe Gloucester have to beat Stade Francais on Sunday, gain a bonus point, deny Stade one and score three tries more than their rivals. I must stop thinking positively about this because I shall end up mightily disappointed. However, today I have more than once contemplated the tendency for - how shall I phrase this? - the more continental outfits to press the self destruct button at times. Gloucester have roughly a one chance in six on Sunday by my reckoning. If we manage to pull it off it will rate as one the great occasions at Kingsholm Stadium.

No Delport in a Storm

I’m actually very keen to pen a little bit on here each day. For a while I’ve been thinking about whether to get writing once more and have certainly considered all the options. I have been in recent contact with Sportnetwork and I know they are desperate to have some sort of Gloucester RFC input on their pages but, for now, I’m going to plump for a weblog. My reasons? Sportnetwork would possibly require more dedication than I can provide and I would always not be able to write what I wanted so little gig and film reviews and musings on what I’m listening to and reading would - naturally - be off limits. I won’t rule out volunteering my services though. Currently the online message boards for Gloucester supporters somehow fail to interest me as much as they used to and fewer and fewer posters possess the wit and realism and maturity to hold my interest. I know my tastes don’t always align with the mainstream but I would like some, any ‘product’ that gives me a buzz, that I can relate to. I guess this weblog will have to suffice for now. The Ikeda quote was certainly the catalyst for my restarting an online journal.

The opening of these pages coincides with a certain personal ambivalence towards the city rugby club I have supported since a lad. This has proved a messy old season and Friday night’s defeat at Ulster certainly means that the club’s chances of qualifying for the last eight in Europe hang by a series of rather inadequate threads. The club requires its own ‘miracle match’ against Stade Francais next weekend with a bonus point a prerequisite as well as the need to stop the mighty Stade from scoring a certain number of tries. Frankly, I feel it is beyond Gloucester. Injuries have disrupted the season but the malaise had set in before 04/05 kicked off when the impressive Delport left the club and was not properly replaced (Goodridge is merely an adequate replacement) and the key positions of centre and outside half were not targeted in the pre-season recruitment drive. In recent weeks the club has failed to remotely replace the key, injured playmaker McRae and neither Fanolua nor Mauger have been able provide any support to the sharpness of Paul. With Simpson-Daniel, keen as mustard and Gloucester’s one class act, injured after playing one whole half of a rugby match when he palpably should have been replaced immediately, missing and with the sensational Forrester woefully underused, my feelings of disappointment have grown over recent weeks. I would not be surprised should either of our young stars look to play their rugby elsewhere before long. My current wish list is to reach the Powergen Cup Final and somehow ensure European qualification for next season by which time we have signed a Delportesque fullback (maybe even the man himself!), a centre worthy of the name, back up for the clever McRae and an ugly big lock. Time will tell.

I’m not listening to many guitars at the moment. I was keen to zap a good deal of the Warp Records back catalogue recently and my Christmas stocking brought me plenty of Autechre which I have been playing to death and gradually getting into. Autechre don’t deal in hummable choruses (thank goodness!) but repeated listening provides hidden depths and undercurrents to what appear, at first, to be rather bleak, emotionless electronic soundscapes. My attention shall need to head guitarwards in just over a fortnight when I shall be setting off to see Gang of Four at the Bristol Academy. Frankly, I am unable to wait. In fact I might go and put on A Brief History of the Twentieth Century now.

A First Posting

'To be human is not merely to stand erect and manifest reason and intellect: to be human in the full sense of the word is to lead a creative life.' Daisaku Ikeda

Time to give this weblog thing another go. I promise I will do my best. I will do things differently this time but I don't yet know how.