Something for the Weekend

After the delights of Amsterdam last week and the excitement of the jet-setting continental gig lifestyle, it is rather pleasant to anticipate a more relaxing weekend. After a splendid takeaway of the Chinese variety, I think I shall take to my bed early this evening, chuck some music - maybe the new Joanna Newsom album which I'm gradually getting slightly obsessed with - on my headphones and do a bit of reading. I’m really getting into Black Swan Green by David Mitchell and, unusually for me, I’m appreciating the use of a child as narrator, in this case a stutterer called Jason who lives just up the road in Worcestershire. Tewkesbury got a mention in the last chapter. The 1980s references are rather jolly too and I’m particularly valuing the rather bleak look at adolescence that the book offers. I used to be a teenager once.

Tomorrow rugby football beckons – the union code naturellement. The city club hosts the Wasps of London and with the Cherry and Whites still unbeaten in league endeavour, this shall prove a stern test despite our visitors being harder hit by international call-ups. Of course, the corresponding fixture last term was a classic even though Gloucester were defeated and Saturday will be a marvellous chance to gain some revenge. The youngster Lamb appears to be hitting some form at last and I’m keen to see the classy centre pairing of Tindall and Allen in action again. I predict a fairly comfortable victory for the home side and a first winning bonus point of the campaign.

Boyce

I won’t bang on and on about Sufjan Stevens but I have been sneaking a look at other blogs written by other hepcats who were, in the words of Max Boyce, there. An Amsterdam gal called Naomi had a whale of a time and posted a couple of video clips of the event on her weblog as well as a lovely set of stills on flickr. A Czech named Loydd had a ball too and writes about it here. I reckon the back of my head might be visible in silhouette on his last but one photo. And there’s loads of stuff in Dutch here.

Yes, I have changed the settings to this site. Let's call it an early Christmas present. I hope the purists don't lynch me. I can always change it back.

Grunts 'R' Us

The grey-haired gentleman in his sixties who served me with a brace of tickets to view the Borat moving picture at the Bristol Road Cineworld this evening was a delight. He greeted me warmly, listened to my request patiently, displayed the options on the screen with bewitching clarity and, having printed my tickets, used a ball point pen to point out and reiterate the relevant gobbets of information for me. He casually used 24 Hour Clock times in his conversation – a nice touch. His parting shot was a jaunty, ‘Enjoy!’ He was great. Ten minutes earlier I had traipsed through the depressing aisles of Toys ‘R’ Us (where was the Subbuteo?!) hunting for a birthday present and a card for a nephew. The monosyllabic drones (I had the unhappy misfortune to require serving twice) who dealt with me there, avoiding eye contact, and barely summoning up enough energy to mutter, ‘En’er ya PIN num’er’ were shocking. I didn’t expect to leave the cinema feeling such pride and joy at the way I had been treated but ‘old man’ had come along at just the right moment. Compare and contrast. Compare and contrast.

The Coles are off to see that prankster Borat tomorrow night and are looking forward to an evening of merry humour.

Here are some more photographs from the Amsterdam weekend. This evening’s theme is ‘transport’. The captions read, 1. Tram (a hipster in foreground); 2. Cyclists; 3. Interesting Red Soup Delivery Vehicle.

Well, I Declare

The weekend in Amsterdam was splendid. It really is a lovely city, very different from anything I’ve experienced before with bikes and trams and canals and stuff everywhere. To be honest, Saturday was spent just strolling around the streets, shopping at the flea market (my new watch is growing on me) and just getting a feel for the old place. I feel very relaxed today and I consider that a decent chunk of Amsterdam’s ambience has rubbed off on me. Of course, the main raison d’être was to attend the Sufjan Stevens concert at the Paradiso Club, a short walk from our hotel. I have been a huge fan of the esoteric American for quite some time so Saturday was an important night really and I’m thrilled to report that the fellow didn’t disappoint. As predicted, many songs came from the delectable Seven Swans album, including a soaring Sister as an opener, the band and Stevens sporting wings of varied flamboyance as well as mysterious masks as they entered the arena. The whole evening was faultless with so many boxes ticked: gorgeous and utterly moving songs, a charismatic and engaging performer, stunning and enthusiastic musicianship, a cool and receptive crowd and a marvellously intimate venue. There were too many highlights to mention but the mesmeric encore of Concerning The UFO Sighting Near Highland, IL, John Wayne Gacy Jr., and That Dress Looks Nice on You had the hairs on the back of the neck standing on end. I want to see him again.

The above photographs are captioned:
1. Stevens
2. Amsterdam

A Little Mouse With Clogs On

To suggest that I am looking forward to this coming weekend’s canter across the channel to the historic lanes of Amsterdam – and Saturday’s concert party featuring Master Sufjan Stevens – would be an understatement of immense proportions. I can’t wait. I’ve hardly thought of the Amsterdam aspect of the weekend as I’ve been so keen to see Stevens but a Rough Guide to the city has arrived home so I can flick through that later. I quite fancy the Saturday flea market that takes place there.

I have been trying hard to find reviews of Stevens’s gigs last week in Manchester and London but, unless I have been searching with a tangible lack of skill, I have discovered little. I didn’t learn a great deal from this Evening Standard piece but this blog made up for it with some touching words, a couple of pictures, and some opportunities to download a few songs (I’d recommend Seven Swans if I was pushed to pick one). That setlist looks impressive and I’m thrilled that my favourite album, Seven Swans is so heavily represented. Hurrah etc. There are some gorgeous Barbican pictures here too. I’m tempted to chuck the first one on my desktop as wallpaper.

My last trip to mainland Europe to enjoy popular music was reported here.

My Elton John research project is gaining pace.

Footnote:
Half an hour later and my searching skills have returned. Andy Gill has a piece about the Barbican concert in today's Independent and gives it five whole stars. There was a bit in yesterday's Guardian which I failed to spot in the actual paper version of the journal but is here in all its online glory.

Going to the John

It is up there with the great moral dilemmas of our age so it was with no little trepidation that I posed the question to my attractive and attentive gaggle of comrades on Saturday night: Is it ok to enjoy early period Elton John? I’ve read too many glowing reviews of his early seventies albums to ignore this any longer. S reacted with some vehemence but balanced his fierce – yet articulate – tirade against Dwight by saying he’d heard a song called Tiny Dancer that was actually rather good. Well, I’ve since downloaded 1970’s Tumbleweed Connection and I’ll give it a try over the next few days. Apparently it was inspired by the singer’s love of The Band and has a tangible Western feel. It might change my life. I doubt it though.

Stop Your Messing Around

Gloucester 21 – Saracens 12

Last night’s match was in no way a classic but the fireworks that lit up the Gloucestershire heavens didn’t distract this punter from a quietly compelling eighty-odd minutes that may prove reasonably important come next spring. I am pleased the tyro Lamb returned to form. A below par performance against Agen last week led to some doubting the lad’s talent but each of Gloucester’s tries, both scored by an energetic Rudi Keil, were as a result of keen thinking and elegiac passing from Lamb. I was thrilled for Keil too. It has taken the affable African a while to win the supporters over so to hear his name being chanted yesterday delighted the sentimentalist in me. Simpson-Daniel’s return was another positive. The young prince enjoyed little time on the ball last night – perhaps a good thing as he returns from a nasty injury – but his elegant presence always reassures me. I still reckon he is Gloucester’s best back ever. I must mention the skipper Bortolami again. What great business it was to deliver the charismatic Italian to Kingsholm! His controlled reading of the game, his mastery of the basics, his utter commitment, his shrewd and influential captaincy skills all impress greatly. And one day he’ll get a pass on the wing! His exotic bow to the shed after the match was a moment to treasure. I think he likes us too.

I was working then on my great unfinished novel

The new Lloyd Cole album, Anti-Depressant, is a joy. Not a word is wasted and the knowing wit and sharp intellect that wooed me as a young chap remain twenty-odd years on. The rhyming of ‘Scarlett Johansson’ and ‘driven to distraction’ is worth the admission price alone but there are lyrical gems galore. Right now, my favourite is, “I said ‘I’m working on my novel’ / She said ‘Neither am I’” – very Lloyd Cole. The tunes are marvellous too and complement the world-weary thoughts of Chairman Cole with a pleasing subtlety. Of course, I had the chance to name my son Lloyd Cole but bottled it. It might have worked.

I made copies of the above album, the last Scritti Politti long-player (the album of the year chez Cole – this Cole, not Lloyd - although you never know) and the gorgeous Seven Swans by Sufjan Stevens for C yesterday and with complete foolishness posted the package without any stamps on it. I feel such a chump.

Brief Rugby Post

I am overjoyed to see the city club continue its fine unbeaten run and away to Leicester too. With the Tigers’ impressive home record, any points snuck away from Welford Road are welcome. Importantly not many of our rivals for the top places in the league will win or draw at the historic East Midlands venue so we have stolen a march on them albeit in a small way. All these advantages add up at the end of the season though. As ever on drawing, one feels a slight pang of regret that the lads didn’t go the whole way and bag a wondrous victory but such thoughts are a touch churlish when the Gloucester engine is running so smoothly. We’re not quite in ‘We’ve never had it so good’ territory but are certainly approaching it.

Fitter, Happier, Skankier

I won’t bore readers with the details (which involve misplaced battery chargers, eBay, newly purchased battery chargers, miraculously found old battery chargers, the sullen juxtaposition of old and new battery chargers, the expression ‘what was it doing in there?’ and a heavy sigh or two) but I had, until this week, been unable to use my gorgeous Creative MP3 player for a while. It was like missing my right arm especially as a good deal of my music exists only in downloaded format. It is back in use now and I am whole. The universe is aligned.

I love reggae and I love Radiohead so it makes sense that I should admire deeply the new album by a host of classic reggae artists (Horace Andy, Sugar Minott etc.) recording under the banner Easy Star All-Stars. They have come up with a reggae version of OK Computer called Radiodread (what else?!) and, despite reservations as I usually dislike such ‘novelties’, I reckon it’s a cracking listen. The production is superb and it is obvious that a lot of work and thought and , importantly, affection went into making it. The singing and playing are tight and uplifting throughout and all the re-examined and revamped songs benefit from such an unusual approach. The little touches render it a delight. The Augustus Pabloesque melodica that introduces Subterranean Homesick Alien is a lilting joy while the dub effects that permeate the bass-heavy Exit Music (For a Film) are reminiscent of Lee Perry or Mikey Dread. And I love the lyric towards the end of Paranoid Android where ‘Jah loves his children’ instead of God. This could become one of the surprise hits of the year in Cole-world.

I thank D for his texted updates as Gloucester soared to victory away to NEC Harlequins. His half-time reassurances did the trick and, indeed, as predicted by the fellow, Gloucester had more than enough in the locker to drag themselves back from 16-6 to vanquish comfortably. Alas, it appears that the noble – and some would say aristocratic – Alexander Brown appears to have fractured his arm and may be out until the new year. The strength in depth that was so happily lauded pre-season will now certainly be required. It is time for Will James to show what he is made of methinks.

Battles

A while away from these pages and I sense a few weeks of intermittent posting as I return to work and earn my corn. Excuse any absence but I’ll try to post at least a couple of times a week. We shall see how it goes.

A couple of events to briefly celebrate. It was pleasant to return to the Guildhall and its somewhat uncomfortable cinema seats on Thursday evening. Ken Loach’s The Wind That Shakes The Barley was a compelling hour or two, a stark and uncompromising history lesson that explored the origins of the Irish republican movement via a fictional account of two brothers united in their resolution to rid Ireland of English rule characterised by the ruthlessness of the notorious Black and Tan soldiers. More human drama follows when the Irish Free State is formed and the brothers take separate sides, one fighting on for the republican cause, one accepting the new agreement.

Less crucial battles were fought out yesterday as Gloucester hosted Bath in a gripping opening fixture that the city deserved to win but contrived to almost throw away. With numerous key players missing (Boer, Simpson-Daniel, Nieto, Tindall and Lamb) the club’s strength in depth imposed itself on a willing and competitive Bath outfit. I enjoyed a capable Gloucester performance and the second half brace of tries were certainly worth the price of admission. Jack Adams’ dancing feet and composure with the line beckoning were thrilling while the ruthlessness of the back division when finishing off a typically heroic Andrew Hazel gallop was refreshing. The captaincy of Marco Bortolami again caught the eye. His line-out work was splendid and his contributions to loose play were intelligent and welcome but I especially enjoyed his energetic geeing-up of his troops and constant appraisal of the match situation. I felt during the match that the Shed had found a new hero but his desire to lead the lads back onto the park to salute the punters went down a storm too. He might well be my new favourite player.

A Chip off the Old Blockley

Although I phoned the venue in Bristol and made enquiries, the Coles did not venture to Bristol on Tuesday for a second helping of Wiyos magic. One can only have too much of a good thing. I truly hope our paths cross once again though. Another review of Sunday’s Calmer* and some links to audio and video clips appear on these esteemed pages.

I get emails from the Scritti Politti organisation and I note that the Gartside fellow will be playing the Birmingham Academy in November, exactly one week after the Sufjan Stevens concert. Verily, my cup doth overflow.

The Coles ventured to IKEA today. After checking-out, a confident middle-aged woman approached me. ‘Are you from Blockley?’ she enquired. ‘Er, no,’ I offered politely in reply. ‘Well, you have a twin who lives there,’ she concluded. This vaguely unsettles me. She obviously doesn’t really know my North Cotswolds doppelganger too well otherwise she would have known it was not he surrounded by flat-packed furniture. What if I had said, ‘Yes’? I want to meet this man.

This is Vaudeville

Cheltenham Spa’s Calmer* evenings are growing on me like an exotic ivy and I am beginning to really appreciate the eclectic mix of music these showcases provide. Last night’s cracking double bill made a fine impression. First up was American one-man band Philip Roebuck thumping his banjo strings in a frenzied and frenetic fashion and beating out relentless riddims on his back to complement his plaintive and personal numbers. He rocked. I always enjoy encountering novel musical experiences and Roebuck’s set was an unusual and challenging excursion. Frankly, I had approached the evening unaware of any other acts on the line-up so New Yorkers The Wiyos’ incredible set was a delightful surprise. I’m not supposed to like jug-bands who harmonise old-style country songs backed by double bass, washboard and geetar but, I confess, this was the most delirious forty minutes entertainment (not a dirty word, I reckon) I have encountered for ages. The flyer used the word ‘vaudeville’ and the stagecraft, musicianship and ability to get the audience’s toes a-tappin’ adhered to that old-fashioned scene too. Their songs were fabulous, they looked great and, importantly, they made this punter grin from ear to ear with their well-rehearsed antics and humorous interplay. I thoroughly dug them and I sensed the whole Calmer* crowd had taken the trio to their hearts too judging by the extent of the warmth of the applause and the volume of the cheering at the end. I have yelled ‘More!’ on numerous occasions over the years but have rarely meant it as much as last night. Their long player, Hat Trick, captures their live show perfectly and the Coles are considering popping down to Bristol on the morrow to witness The Wiyos experience once more. For now, they are this house’s favourite new band.

This is Kingsholm

Gloucester 29 – Llanelli 22

This was encouraging. Doughty and determined heads in the Scarlets line-up ensured this was no gimme but a gritty Gloucester performance containing sufficient craft to complement the graft won the spoils. And, despite a need for the city to produce an encouraging display, the victory, any victory, had more import attached to it. The club could not welcome Bath next week with three straight defeats under the collective belt.

For sure, there was scrappiness at times but, certainly, fixtures like these are designed to expose and remedy that. Evident were a series of cameos and displays that heartened and comforted. I liked Bortolami’s style. He is a pacy fellow who, while adhering nattily to the basics of the tight, was able to make himself a nuisance in a variety of game situations. He’ll add a good deal to our fifteen. His captaincy skills were apparent throughout; an encouraging slap on the back here, a few words of encouragement there. He possesses ‘people skills’ for sure. He can inspire. He is welcome.

It was strange to see Iain Balshaw wearing the cherry hue but he showed a lot of class yesterday and by no-side his reputation was, in my eyes, enhanced. Naturally one associates raw pace with the fellow but he demonstrated his intelligence on a number of occasions, choosing a clever line, seeking out a comrade, selecting a place to enter the line or, in defence, demonstrating shrewd organisational skills. He’ll prove an asset to the crew.

Newbies Walker and Califano did nothing wrong all afternoon. The Kiwi outside-half controlled things well, generally kicked with aplomb and appears to be a decent signing who will fill the Lamb-shaped void steadily and with no little poise. Califano is the wily old fox I expected. I’m reassured that he’ll be around to steady ships and add his nous to proceedings over the months.

It was refreshing too to witness the enthusiasm and zeal of others. Peter Richards enjoyed a snarling and energetic match and his will to win and quickness of thought caught the eye. This livewire shall be key to our chances this season but I appreciated Rory Lawson’s twenty minute cameo that was almost Richardsesque in its effervescence and appetite for action. Peter Buxton had a pleasing match and, especially in a ten minute purple patch after the break, proved a colossus and almightily difficult to bring to ground. Andrew Hazel remains Andrew Hazel and I salute the terrier. To state that England’s loss is the city’s gain is obvious but there shall ne’er be a truer word spake all term methinks. For me, James Forrester deserves the man-of-the-match nod. It is churlish to suggest that he could, on occasions, seek out a team mate more readily when he is making such clean breaks and scoring such bewitching tries as yesterday but that remains my only minor criticism of the youngster. As I see it, his confidence levels are sky-high, he is carrying the ball with a tad more power than usual and, my word, he wants to win rugby football matches for the city club.

There were many positives on show yesterday but to defeat the old rivals from Bath next week, a touch more ruthlessness, a tad more streetwise, heads-up ‘thinking rugby’ needs to permeate the team. At times Gloucester made the heaviest of weather when attempting to cross the try-line and this was against, at times, only fourteen fellows who were not, despite a fierce collective competitive nature, seeking league points. That said, I tip my favoured team to open the new season with a win next weekend and I would be pleased to see the gnarled and rugged Collazo back in the fifteen as well as old lag Tindall and young pup Allen replacing Keil (steady enough, to be fair) and Adams in midfield. Would there be a better way to start a new season than with a merciless dismantling of the Somerset side? Can’t wait…

Northern Skies

I shall write more about the Coles’ Scottish (and Mancunian and Yorkshirian) jaunt at another juncture. However, I shall briefly report that a marvellous time was had by all although, as ever, it is lovely to be home. There’s a couple of photographs above to indicate the coast/city japes we embraced.

I have plenty to report and plenty on the horizon. I bought my new rugby season ticket today and shall trot to the Kingsholm area tomorrow to exhort my heroes to play up and vanquish against a Llanelli fifteen. I remain disappointed by the two losses incurred thus far pre-season and dismayed to learn of the nasty injury suffered by the young prince, Simpson-Daniel. I’m just keen to see the lads in action for myself. I note that Bortolami has been named as captain for this weekend’s clash; we need a strong leader so I hope this is an experiment that works.

I seem to have had my head in a book fairly constantly for the past couple of weeks. I’ve polished off a couple of music books which shared similar themes. Joe Boyd’s White Bicycles was a fascinating swoop through the sixties and the key strands of the fascinating underground scene that Boyd, to an extent, fostered and inspired. I finished Patrick Humphries’ biography of Nick Drake today. The book contained few surprises and missed the input of two key figures, Drake’s sister, Gabrielle, and Joe Boyd (Drake’s close friend and producer), both of whom refused to cooperate with the project. I read a couple of novels while away too. I enjoyed Zadie Smith’s White Teeth a while back and tackled On Beauty, her latest work, while in Scotland and this proved a remarkable read full of insightful ruminations on class, race and gender. It reminded me a little of some of David Lodge’s campus novels and the portrayal of university politics proved a hoot. I also read Small Island by Andrea Levy which examined race issues during and after the Second World War and considered the treatment of Jamaican servicemen, and later, immigrants by a predominantly white and suspicious English population. I welcomed a peek at a forgotten chapter of British history.

Gloucester Rugby: A New Season

The Coles shall be heading north midweek, to the land of the Scots via Manchester and with a visit to Pickering, I believe, to slip in on the way home. I understand modern parlance calls it ‘breaking the journey up’. I shall report back in a couple of weeks but there won’t be any posts until then methinks.

The holiday means I shall miss the first Gloucester RFC friendly match - against Saracens this Friday - which is a shame as I always enjoy checking out and analysing new players and this season, in particular, there are many new ‘uns to behold and celebrate. I don’t recall sitting here in August and feeling quite so confident about the chances for the city. For once we appear to have found a potent balance of pace and power, strength and style.

Our future successes will depend heavily on our front five and I am optimistic that we have a set of superb props that will see us through the term well. The experienced continental swagger of Nieto, Collazo and Califano represents a trio of bruisers that no club will want to encounter while the hugely promising Forster and the effective and, in my opinion, vastly underrated Wood will let no side down. The hookers are contrasting characters. The burly Azam is a frightfully physical gentleman and, again, is a name that other teams will not appreciate seeing on the teamsheet before a match. The lighter but nippier Mefin Davies enjoyed a decent run in the team last spring and demonstrated what a clever and unselfishly effective component he is. Both have roles to play. Azam is scarier; Davies does the basics more consistently. Again youth waits in the wings in the shape of the enthusiastic and ambitious Elloway and the rated new boy Macmillan.

We have rarely been so blessed in the second row as this season. The signing of the inspirational Italian skipper Bortolami is an outstanding one. His leadership skills, high levels of skill and competitiveness and, importantly, his aura, should serve us well. He has to prove the real deal. The noble and intelligent Brown should continue to impress but the new fellow James should be pressing for a starting berth; by all accounts he is a no-nonsense and rugged behemoth in the mould of Worcester’s Gillies or Collier. The enterprising Pendlebury and the old hand Eustace make up the numbers.

I suppose a major challenge for coach Ryan will be to discover the most successful balance in a back row that still lacks a ball carrier of the class of the, as yet, unreplaced Junior Paramore. Of course Hazell remains a nugget in the seven shirt while a lot depends on how much Forrester has bulked up to add a more steely presence to his expressionist array of skills at eight. The three ‘B’s should contest the blindside berth. I hope Balding regains the form of two years ago when he illuminated a disappointing campaign for the club with a series of old-fashioned and passionate performances that shamed a good many of his insipid team mates. Peter Buxton quietly and modestly enjoyed a fine last season but, personally, I’d love to see the honest and hard working Jake Boer clinch the six jersey and really run the ball aggressively at (and through!) enemy lines. If push came to shove, I’d nominate the South African as my favourite player of the past decade; he represents all I’d expect from a player wearing the famous cherry. Youngsters Narraway, Merriman and Matthews await chances; of the three, Will Matthews has most to prove and the new season should allow the lad sufficient opportunities to really fulfil his potential.

Behind the pack, there merrily exists a good deal of healthy competition for each position although I do have a favoured first choice selection. At scrum half, Peter Richards enjoyed a really encouraging season last time out. Although question marks remain over his service, his pace, eye for the gap, attacking zeal and ruthless will to win all impressed this scribe. Haydn Thomas has done nothing wrong and remains a worthy understudy while the new Scottish lad, Rory Lawson, could be another dark horse; by all accounts he has pace and skills in abundance. I suppose one could suggest it is a case of ‘horses for courses’ but the thrilling Lamb should be inked in as the city’s playmaker with the steady Mercier in reserve. Both are match winners but only wunderkind Lamb has the cognoscenti whispering the blessed word ‘genius’. I can’t wait to see the kiddo play again. Willy Walker can also play at outside half but I know little about the Kiwi.

The midfield should comprise Michael ‘Mike’ Tindall and the coltish and ebullient Allen. The mix of experience and youthful zest should really click. Jack Adams returns of course and I really rated his gainline-breaking élan last autumn before his nasty injury. How well and how fearlessly the boy Adams plays after his recovery will be interesting. I guess Rudi Keil will be cover and Walker and Simpson-Daniel are able to slot into the centre too.

I would prefer Simpson-Daniel to play at wing three-quarter though. The space that a bullying pack will create for the likes of Lamb and Richards to control matches will prove a fillip for ‘Sinbad’ and I expect Iain Balshaw to be his partner in crime. This could prove a potent pairing. The earnest and improving Mark Foster, speedy and clinical James Bailey, experienced and wholehearted Rob Thirlby all indicate the club’s strength in depth. Olly Morgan remains a thoroughbred at full back and I look forward to watching his heads-up, elegant counter-attacking again. I suggest that Willy Walker will be second choice as the unfortunate and loyal Jon Goodridge heads to Pertemps Bees for a loan spell.

I would suggest this to be the strongest squad that Gloucester has ever assembled and I anticipate a top three finish in the league and, depending on our results against Leinster, a European semi-final. Having suffered many false dawns I think the time has finally arrived for the supporters to have a really top notch team without conceivable weakness to salute. I can’t wait.

Museum

A childhood – possibly teenaged – visit to South Kensington’s Victoria and Albert Museum had always stuck in my mind for the wrong reasons. Frankly, I found the place dull and uninspiring, full of pointless costumes and objets that held no appeal. A second trip, avec famille, last Friday blew my prejudices and simmering distrust of the place out of the water. Obviously, the institution has been revamped in the two decades or so since I last strolled through its corridors but it proved a fabulous collection of too many beautiful and fascinating pieces to mention and I am unable to sing its praises loudly enough. The new Islamic Art wing is stunning, the Asian artefacts are wondrous while the statues simply took the breath away. And the John Madjedski Garden (pictured) is a fabulous oasis of calm and beauty in the centre of the city. I’ll visit again and spend more time. An edgy part of me thinks that the V & A may have been rather splendid on my previous visit and that it is me that has changed the most.

Mixed Vegetables Fried Rice

It has been a busy few days for one reason or other and I have relished the chance to relax and recharge this evening. I feel sated und enhanced by a delectable takeaway of Chinese origin; I have listened with a tangible glow to Tom Robinson interviewing Green Gartside on the splendid 6Music (and he read out my email asking the Scritti Politti main man something or other of little import); and now I’m sat here, without a care in the world, tapping these mundane thoughts into the computer while I listen avidly to The Associates’ Fourth Drawer Down. Life couldn’t get any better.

Martha's Harbour

Tonight is the last ever Top of the Pops. If you had told the sixteen year old version of me that one day in the future the show would be deemed obsolete by the BBC’s powers-that-be, my spotty young face would have guffawed and probably snarled, ‘Whatever!’ Top of the Pops was massive in my life and I longed for the end credits of Tomorrow’s World every Thursday so that I could immerse myself in (generally) heroes. That fact that I still have VHS tapes galore packed with clips of Lloyd Cole, The Smiths, Scritti Politti et al. is testament to my addiction. I doubt if I missed more than one or two shows between 1981 and 1985 and if I did there must have been a darned good reason. I loved the programme. Laughably, I recall no grey areas; I either adored a record or loathed it with a passion. Having chucked a list on here last time, I am reluctant to post a ‘Martin’s Top Ten Favourite Top of the Pops Moments’ but Japan doing Ghosts would feature as would anything by The Jam (Paul Weller wearing an apron as he sang Going Underground anyone?) and, certainly, Legs and Co. dancing to Orange Juice’s Rip It Up while simultaneously ripping up pieces of paper. Gosh, I’ve misted over. I will not be watching tonight’s show though.

A military operation took place yesterday morning as I logged on just before 9am in order to secure a quartet of tickets to see Sufjan Stevens in Amsterdam. The mission was successful and we are off in the middle of November to see, in my humble opinion, the world’s finest and most moving recording artist. I can’t remember looking forward to anything as much since, well, Top of the Pops circa 1984.

My Favourite Gigs

‘Top Ten, I reckon’, I mumbled deliriously to S as we left the Kentish Town Forum on Monday night. The exuberance of Teenage Fanclub’s harmony driven power-pop had made such an impression that I considered their lengthy set worthy of inclusion in my Top-Ten-Gigs-Of-All-Time. Such spur of the moments pronouncements (fuelled by alcohol, on occasions) are able to come back to haunt one but, 72 hours down the line, I reckon I might just have been correct in my judgement. It was that good. So what other concerts can proudly boast Top Ten status? Here are the other nine in no particular order:

The Fall at Cheltenham Town Hall, 1987. This was the first time I’d seen The Fall who remain my most-seen act. A classic line-up and so many wondrous songs! They opened with Shoulder Pads, U.S. 80s-90s and Gut of the Quantifier, a belting hat trick of stunners! I was only young. What a treat. More details are to be found here.

Burning Spear, Jamaican Sports and Social Club, Gloucester, 2002. A council strike meant the original venue, Gloucester Guildhall, was unavailable so the gig was switched to this perfect little arena. Ageing West Indian dudes were playing dominos as one of the key reggae acts climbed onto the makeshift stage. S, S and I supped Red Stripe unselfconsciously as the tightest of ensembles belted out hit after hit.

The Go-Betweens, Birmingham Academy, 2005. See here. All the more poignant after Grant McLennan’s untimely death recently. This was a gorgeous and emotional evening.

The Pixies, Bristol Bierkeller, 1988 and Bristol Studio, 1989. The only band to appear twice on this list but two deserved entries for the Bostonians. These were really intense, sweaty happenings and the aggressive and energetic songs came thick and fast. The Bierkeller gig was the more memorable. My Bloody Valentine supported with the loudest set of all time. Amazing times.

Gang of Four, Bristol Academy, 2005. Another corker from last year which I wrote about here. I’m not sure about bands reforming to relive past glories but this bunch was awesome. Andy Gill’s angular guitar noise was a history lesson I was privileged to attend. Art.

The House of Love, Bristol Bierkeller, 1988. I always bundle this one with the first Pixies gig as they were pretty close together. The House of Love was a cracking and really rather underrated band. Their debut album which they showcased this evening remains a classic. They conjured up a remarkable noise; Terry Bickers’ guitar work was nothing short of majestic.

R.E.M., Newport Leisure Centre, 1989. There is a set-list here. I stood with one hand on the stage throughout. The opening salvo of Pop Song '89, These Days and Disturbance at the Heron House rivals The Fall for gig-opening wonderment.

Lloyd Cole and the Commotions, Birmingham Hummingbird, 1985. I went on the train with B. They played all of Rattlesnakes and one or two other songs in a tiny little venue. The Blow Monkeys supported. Superb.