Quench - Issue 54

QUENCH.GAIRRHYDD.COM VOL 4.54 > JUNE 11 2007

DIAN G UA RD E N T U E ST AZIN M AG T H E F O YEAR

WHAT A SCREAMER

The Automatic’s Alex Pennie talk s to Quench about punk, America and losing control

“The NME Awards were a perfect example of ever ything I hate about the music industry”

INTERVIEW BEST OF H S WITH THE AY-ON-WY E DARA O’B

PICTURE THISGRAPHY PHOTO GUIDE US HE T THROUGH YEAR

ROGER CORIAIN ALEXANDE OK R McCALL SM

HOME-GRO

ITH

WN STYLE

FASHION C GRADUATEARDIFF MAKES IT -COME-DESIGNER BIG IN LON DON

INSIDE And in the end...

04THE BLURB Memories are all in my mind 06DEBATE Just Jack 07GRACE It’s the end of our rainbow 08INTERVIEWS Automatic high 18FASHION Can’t live without you 20TRAVEL Turning Israeli, I think I’m Israeli 22FOOD You’ll cream yourself 23GOING OUT Get beachy 24GAY Taking you further than Charles Street 25PHOTOGRAPHY Paints you 1,000 pictures 27REVIEWS Peasants with plenty of panache

“

You Love Us? Damn right.

Here’s to another 10 years.

“

13FEATURES Crazy for loving you

Features on obsessions / page 18

28ARTS Fun in the sun 30FILM They’re like magicians 35MUSIC It makes a good ponty 42BOOKS Welsh words 46DIGITAL Back to the future 49CULT CLASSICS A question of rock 50COLUMNS Wooing you 55TV Much more than just a box

QUENCH@GAIRRHYDD.COM

Editor Sophie Robehmed Executive Editor Perri Lewis Assistant to the Editors Elaine Morgan Arts Kim O’Connor, Rebecca Child Blind Date Rosanne and Olivia Books Daisy Beare Columnists Gareth Paisey, Grace DeVille, Dave Menon, John Widdop Cult Classics Tom Brookes Debate Caleb Woodbridge Digital Dom Mukwamba-Sendall Fashion Leana Crookes, Matt Hitt Features Amy Harrison, Ben Bryant Film Ewen Hosie, Ryan Owen, Si Truss Food Joanne Grew Gay Deen Lloyd, Jenny Hall Going Out Kayleigh Excell, Rachel Clare Interviews Amira Hashish, Nicola Menage Music Mike Richards, Sofie Jenkinson, Will Hitchins Photography Adam Gasson, James Perou, Sarah Day Travel Chris Rogers, Jim Whiteley Proof Readers Amy Harrison, Kieran Harwood, Azzedine Bouleghlimat, Andy Rennison, Katy Dobbs, Ed Vanstone, Beth Herdman, Aisling Tempany Contributors Ed Vanstone, Aisling Tempany, Jenny Edwards, Richard Brown, Rhys Trigg, Lucy Andrews, Amy Grier, Laura Rowe, Amelia Thomas, Tash Prest-Smith, Ashley James, Ali Quas-Cohen, Benjamin Lepley, Matt Hutchinson, Michael Bateson-Hill, Jim Finucane, Josie Allchin, Jacquie Hoskins, Ben Marshall, Greg Cochrane, Guy Ferneyhough, Tom Williams, Timothy Scrivens, Lee Randall, John Davies, Gareth J.S. Mogg, TV John, Front cover photo: James Perou

THREE

THE BLURB q.ed.

Thanks for the times that you’ve given me...

S

o after three years of stooping over Mac computers, enduring Dominos pizza sweats, giving out my loaf with slices of my dignity in the student elections and boiling my nipples off in the all-year greenhouse environment of gair rhydd towers, it has come to this. My final editorial.

And it wouldn’t be a final editorial if I didn’t personally thank the individuals that have made my life as editor much easier and a hell of a lot more fun too. Someone pass the tissues and the cheese platter…

Pray tell, where do I start? Well, it’s damn obvious really. Perri, chief and teacher, thank you for your raw enthusiasm and relentless support. That doesn’t do you justice but neither would this entire editorial. Elaine, thank you for being the staples that keep these pages together. Graeme, you’ll always be my design guru. Grace, I’m going to really miss your columns so keep writing your spiky, funny opinions somewhere that I can read them, yeah? Yes, like a national because you’re bloody good enough remember. Don’t worry, Amira, I think you’re great too. The calibre of people that you and Menage have got for us have been super. Still, I’m not putting photos of you two in my final editorial.

Especially not after fortnightly ad nauseam doses of The Lowdown. Ho ho ho. Although I’m tempted to include photos of Deen and Jenny, my beloved team gay. The way you’ve revamped your section has made me so proud, bebs. Crack open the Dr Pepper. And Daisy, the same to you; don’t ever underestimate the importance of your section or how you’ve improved it. And Caleb, the force is most definitely with you and your debates.

It’s with you and your Cult Classics, too, Tom, however much you don’t believe it yourself.

Dom, thanks for taking on Digital and making it more accessible and well, interesting. Matt and Leana, true fashionistas on the pages and in the flesh. Likewise, Chris and Jim, you’re true experts in your travelling field.

Stay chilled (with beers of the world) my brothers. Mike, Sof, Will, your hard work and dedication has never gone unnoticed… despite bullying me. And that goes for you Si, Ewen, and Ryan (except for the bullying bit). Thank you Kim, Becca, Joanne, Kayleigh and Rachel for always hunting down the best of diverse culture, tasty grub and local hot spots. And Rosanne and Olivia, Little Miss Blind Date was a brilliant idea. Photography, I’ve been loving your work. Seriously, you guys have made us look more like a real magazine. Proofreaders and contributors, you’ve been crucial (obviously). Amy and Ben, you’ve done really great things with Features and I have no doubt that you’ll do the same with gair rhydd and Quench.

Finally, thank you to my family, Matthew Cutler, flaties and laughter for being my saving graces.

That’s it. Loaf in. Loaf out.

FOUR

THE FIGHT Who would win in a scrap between the ultimate anti-theist and his ‘supernatural’ nemesis Richard ‘Rationalism Rules!’ Dawkins Strengths: High intelligence; logic; rationalism; humanism; secularism; empiricism; eloquence; quite nice hair; attractive wife; many books.

Weaknesses: Can get a bit cross when people don’t share his viewpoint; tired and weakened after so many years of arguing against religion.

Special Move: The Logicator - Dawkins unleashes a tirade of beautifully spoken rationality to support his staunch atheism, plunging the listener into an abyss of numb realisation. Then he kicks them in the face. Hard.

God ‘So famous he doesn’t even need a surname, like Madonna’

vs.

Strengths: Omnipotent; omniscient; fantastic beard; attractive son; one book.

Weaknesses: Not actually, technically, honestly, truthfully, candidly, literally, when it comes right down to it, real.

Special Move: Miracle Mayhem - using his power to do, basically, anything he wants, God utterly annihilates his opponent in a messy fashion.

THE VERDICT

A

lmost a win by default for Dawkins in this one, as God turned up very late, fuelling speculation from the throng around the ring that he simply couldn’t handle the flawless logic of Dawkins.

However, in a puff of smoke, barely seconds before the famous atheist was to be declared the winner, God appeared. The fight was on.

Driven to hysteria by such an awesome spectacle - the great one himself, and God as well - the eager crowd started to chant (almost religiously), and the two opponents began to circle each other warily, eyes locked in a smouldering battle.

Then, suddenly, God ripped his eyes away from Dawkins and began to laugh boomingly, sending deep vibrations echoing around the arena. Even Dawkins looked a little intimidated.

‘You just don’t get it, do you Richard?’ God thundered. ‘I’m the man. You cannot beat me. Even with your science, your empiricism,

all of the logic and rationality you can muster - I simply cannot be beaten!’ He then began to laugh in quite a devillish fashion, which confused everybody.

And then it happened. God let fly with his patented Miracle Mayhem, turning Dawkins into a frog, then a deer, then removing his head and making it fly around the room before reattaching, and then, finally, leaving him shaking on the floor in a pool of sweat.

‘Do you see now, Richard?’ God boomed.

‘I win! I am omnipotent and omniscient! I rock! Yes!’ He then did a little dance, which confused everybody further.

From on the floor, Dawkins’s dulcet tones emerged, ‘You can’t be omniscient and omnipotent. That makes no sense. If you were truly omniscient, you would know exactly what you were going to do all of the time, and therefore would be powerless to change it. Thus, you would not be omnipotent.’

God paused. ‘Oh Me, you’re right,’ he said, and disappeared in a fizzle of rationality.

Dawkins got to his feet shakily and was carried around the arena on the shoulders of fans. An utterly unforgettable fight.

Ed Vanstone THEBLURB@GAIRRHYDD.COM

THE BLURB tars’ S e d n o D The t, keyboardis arris, Matthew H tackles Quench’s five big questions

! s i h t r e w Ans What's the best thing you've ever stolen?

I’m not much of a kleptomaniac but I did pinch a really ornate Kronenburg glass from a pub in France.

What's the best lesson you've learnt in life?

You can get away with a lot.

If you could be anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?

Keith Richards. If I could still look and function like him after what he’s done, I’d be happy.

Do you have any guilty pleasures?

Listening to Jefferson Starship and Kelly Clarkson.

KEVTHINKSTHINGS

What would your special powers be if you were a super hero?

I’d like claws like a wolverine, like X-Men have.

THEBLURB@GAIRRHYDD.COM

“There is a hell of a lot of bureaucracy tangled up in them there lecture notes”

I

have just finished my degree. The flood of relief I expected, and felt, for roughly five minutes, has quickly been replaced by an intense feeling of doom. I can’t change the outcome now. My remedy? Mainly beer.

What I have, however, recently discovered while attempting to clear out my room is the ridiculous amount of paper that I’ve accumulated over the last three years. I am admittedly more of a hoarder than most (see train tickets, gig tickets, newspapers, ornamental owls etc,) but having peered into many a bedroom belonging to many of my contemporaries it seems a fairly average amount for the duration of an undergraduate degree.

And here, ladies and gentlemen, is the crux of it; about 70% of this paper is what could be described as semi-useful educational material, but the rest can be mainly attributed to various university related bumph. Basically there is a hell of a lot of bureaucracy tangled up in them there lecture notes.

The levels of petty bureaucracy within higher education are insane – although individual experiences tend to vary from school to school.

Unfortunately I found myself in a school which asks you to predict any special circumstances that you may find yourself in during your assessment period well in advance of the deadline – yeah, let me just get my crystal ball.

I found myself surrounded by lackadaisical English and Journalism students (gross generalisation alert) drowning in a wealth of extensions while simultaneously running about rubbing their unfinished essays all over themselves. Meanwhile I am reaching for yet another packet of biscuits and my 47th cup of coffee in an attempt to stay up for the second night in a row to get it all done.

And here’s the crazy thing - extension fate is left up to an external body of names and faces, rather than a module leader who knows the student and subject the best.

And this isn’t the only instance of crazy paper pushing. Oh no. The timetabling and general organisation of this institution is lost between pages, leaving the interests of students and lecturers alike out in the cold, rain splattered streets.

As well as questioning the difference these experiences could make in terms of degree marks it also makes me curious about how relieved lecturers (etc.) do or do not feel knowing there is a lovely safe dollop of bureaucracy saving them from ever needing to get their hands dirty - a handy barrier between us and them, if you will.

Gone are the days of Educating Rita and with them the interests of students, far and wide, can be seen falling by the wayside. Sofie Jenkinson FIVE

DEBATE

Captain Jack:

Harkness vs Sparrow

Cardiff’s time-travelling Captain of the Innuendo Squad takes on the Caribbean’s campest pirate Captain. Yarr!

Captain Jack Harkness Aisling Tempany

C

“ ”

aptain Jack Harkness. Or as he should really be named: Captain Slutty McSlutSlut. Because really, animal, mineral, vegetable, Captain Jack Harkness would so do it. And we’d wish it was us.

He is the character that TV has been begging for since its invention. A hot American time-travelling bisexual. He is what horny slash fiction writers were begging for. With a guest spot in Doctor Who he was charming, funny and incredibly gay. On Torchwood, he’s dark, broody and really, really incredibly gay. Perhaps the biggest disappointment of his return to Doctor Who is that it doesn’t involve the romance of Jack and the Tenth Doctor (what would he do if he met all ten?

Slash writers, to your computers!)

Perhaps most important though, Torchwood is in Cardiff. And so, therefore, is Captain Jack. Potentially all we have to do is go down the Bay, buy him a few drinks and all our fantasies are fulfilled. We don’t need to go sailing in the Caribbean, become ridiculously thin and wear corsets. No, with Captain Jack our fantasies can be fulfilled on our doorstep, and maybe, even in the bedroom.

But away from fantasies for a second, Captain Jack Harkness represents a freeing of thoughts and ideas once unheard of on television. It’s fine to be gay; it’s fine to be sexual. Oh, how Mary Whitehouse must be spinning in her grave. When he first appeared on Doctor Who, no-one expressed concern about this raging homosexual, (I think they may have been more concerned by the underage 1940s mother though.) If anything, Captain Jack Harkness should open the doors for more sexually, and morally, ambiguous four-dimensional characters.

He’s the hero, but he makes mistakes and the wrong decisions, like we all do. Compare this with the bland, referential action heroes hoping to create a franchise, with their edgy dark make-up and aging rock-star fathers.

SIX

He is the character that TV has been begging for since its invention

Captain Jack Sparrow Jenny Edwards

O

riginal Captain of the Black Pearl and reluctant saviour of the seven seas, Captain Jack Sparrow is a true one-off. Altogether there are a fair few reasons why he can claim to be, to use his own words, the ‘much more better’ Captain.

To start with the very beginning (the very best place to start) he can be trusted to make a dramatic entrance.

Casually stepping off the mast of a disappearing ship and shooting his way out of a coffin show that he can teach anyone a thing or two about arriving in style, something you want to see in every good captain.

Having arrived there he can be trusted to sort out many a tricky situation. There isn’t much that he can’t talk, sword-fight or dive himself out of. If all else fails, he can be relied on to sport eight eyes and escape on a giant fruit kebab. More importantly he uses good old-fashioned pirate methods, completely technology-free, making him the captain you’d want to rely on in a power cut.

There’s a lot to be said for his pirate’s life of sailing the Caribbean, drinking rum, searching for treasure and fighting the occasional tentacled pirate for kicks.

Speaking of which, there are few who can boast having been to Davy Jones’s locker and back. Granted, he may be slightly mad, a bit of a player and not altogether trustworthy but he’s a Disney creation so there’s definitely a good-hearted streak behind it all.

Finally, having managed to avoid commenting on the appeal that Johnny Depp brings to the role, I think one small mention is needed. Respect is owed to anyone who can make eye liner, a moustache and a beaded goatee (not normally an advisable combination) look that good.

So Captain Jack Sparrow may be an unlikely hero, but with a barrel of rum for persuasion you could trust him to save the day, and do it with style. Savvy?

If all else fails he can be relied on to sport eight eyes and escape on a giant fruit kebab

DEBATE@GAIRRHYDD.COM

GRACE Rage against the Regime

G

Grace de Ville

osh, it appears from the vitriolic spiel below that I may well have been foaming at the mouth at some point in the last week. I did wonder what those patches of dried spittle were doing on my face. Still, it’s important to bow down from one’s tenure as a columnist in a suitably hateful barrage of rage.

My four years at this hallowed institution have, as of today, come to a close. It all started in a discothèque when I observed a sprightly redhead licking the sweaty crown of a bald man’s head, and ended in an exam hall with me wiping the stress-induced perspiration from my hands onto my fluorescent pink tights. Sweat has been a recurring theme. It’s been an eventful few years, but what am I going to do next?

North Korea, that’s what. A hungover conversation with an old chum has now escalated into a burning desire to visit one of the most hostile countries on the planet. My interest swelled with the purchase of Pyongyang, Guy Delisle’s graphic novel based on his experiences as a cartoonist in the barmy capital of this backwards country. It offers an utterly absorbing insight into everyday life (or at least the day-to-day existence of a western visitor) in a place so many people know nothing about.

I can imagine I’d be very bored in North Korea. Independent tourism is strictly prohibited, so I’d have to go through a guide such as Koryo Tours (www.koryogroup.com) and spend a great deal of time in sprawling, eerily empty hotels. Everywhere I went would be controlled and limited, and I’d spend endless hours doing crosswords.

I’d probably have more fun on a beach in Thailand with a hollowed-out coconut filled with a dubious liquid (on second thoughts, I severely doubt it). I’d certainly have more fun in New York or Paris or Rio OR Scarborough. But the difference between these undoubtedly desirable locations and North Korea is that very few people can say that they’ve visited the latter.

It’s not that I’m seeking exciting dinner party fodder; (‘Well, when I was in NORTH KOREA…’) I’m not. It’s more the desire to experience a place so entirely different from what I’m used to. I suppose there’s an element of adventure too, of exploring a ‘new’ frontier. I may never make it up Everest (too fat; too lazy; too poor) but if I save up a few grand and be careful what I photograph, I can witness the country that time forgot. It’d perhaps also be beneficial to get away from all the wireless networks for a while. I bet they don’t get technologyinduced headaches in North Korea.

GRACE@GAIRRHYDD.COM

This week: I turn travel correspondent AND bitter harridan. Lovely.

I'm infuriated. Angry, enraged, incensed and really rather ticked off with the pathetic, shambolic and catastrophic manner in which the world around me operates. I haven't got a clue how to conduct myself in such a hostile environment. In short: I don’t stand a chance.

I’m angry with the fact that living in the city centre means fighting my way through an infinite number of people in order to use a cashpoint. I’m angry that I still feel the need to say ‘thank you’ to a wallmounted contraption that spits out your own money if you press the right buttons. I’m angered by money. I’m angry with shoppers - those abstract, beige globules of ignorance who cloud up the high street like swarms of LIES while they fool themselves into thinking that spending will complete them. I’m angry that I’m one of Them.

“

I'm angry that to me, orange squash will forever taste like musty village halls and underwhelming church fetes I’m angry that I’ve been single-handedly responsible for the death of countless tiny green bugs because I can’t avoid picking them out of the centre of driblets of cuckoo spit. I’m angry that I can’t remember the last time I came across any cuckoo spit. I’m angry that, to me, orange squash will forever taste like musty village halls and underwhelming church fetes where the bran tub is full of bible-themed ‘prizes’. I’m angry at religion. I’m angry that I drink too much cordial and not enough water because I’m not adult enough to consume straight H2O. I’m angry that every time I move my legs in a particular fashion, my knees click very loudly. I’m angry that this is probably indicative of future arthritis. I’m angry that I worry about this more often than necessary, and every time I pass somewhere that sells copper bracelets, I consider buying one to ward off the impending affliction like a slightly more feasible amulet.

I’m angry that I spend every night penned into a single bed that very much resembles a cot, when really I’d like to sleep diagonally across a king-sized affair with fluffy pillows and a fully-sprung mattress. I’m angry that lack of sleep has resulted in my

eyes resembling the ocular organs of a frog.

I’m angry that the head of my shower sprays jets in eight different directions; only one of them being downwards. I’m angry that I haven’t sat in a field for several months.

I’m angry that David Walliams has forged an impressively long comedic career despite looking like a sex offender and being about as funny as swallowing a nutmeg grater and getting it lodged against your spleen so that every time you cough you induce massive internal bleeding.

I’m angry at the size of my feet. I’m angry that my sebaceous glands have only now, at the age of 22, decided to attack my face and pepper it with vile pustules of varying hues of yellow.

I’m angry that there’s vomit on the end of my street. I’m angry that I can’t cross the road without squealing like a banshee. I’m angry that taxi drivers fail to indicate.

I’m angry that I threw that netball at Frances Hulley’s head during a P.E. lesson as she’s probably developed a phobia of anything rubber or spherical and had to spend countless hours in therapy.

I’m angry that I’ve spent the majority of my student loan on garden ornaments, cottage cheese and Pimm’s. I’m angry that every time the sun decides to rear its melanoma-inducing head, I’m stuck in a call centre "listening" to disgruntled insurance customers rant about the imperfections on their car spray job. I’m angry that I spent my 21st birthday rubbing my face on a grass verge, when I should have been at the theatre or playing croquet or engaged in another similarly highbrow pursuit.

I’m angry that I haven’t read a book in some time because my brain no longer processes words in the relevant order. I’m angry with the ants in my kitchen. I’m angry that I’m forever crumpled because I haven’t used an iron in over four years. I’m angry that I’ve wasted a great deal of my time here at university being annoyed at the sky, the ground and everything in-between.

And I’m VERY angry with the fact that I’ve used the word ‘angry’ almost 40 times in this very column.

By jingo, I’m pissed off. Its been nice knowing you.

SEVEN

INTERVIEWS

e r i f n o s Alex i Alex Pennie is The Automatic’s everzealous touch-paper, full of spirit and charm, here to tell us why punk is the future. By Sofie Jenkinson lexander Pennie is not your usual pop star. Hell, he’s not your ordinary human being either. He is widely renowned as the member of The Automatic that screams often inaudible lyrics over the top of their sickly sweet pop tunes, a technique not unfamiliar to many (punk) bands in and around South Wales. However, there are three things that separate Alex Pennie from most; unfaltering honesty, his constant commitment to being true to himself, oh and also an unhealthy love of houmous.

Alex was born in Aberdeen to the Pennie clan 21 years ago. As the last member of The Automatic to join, just over four years ago, he has always held a certain status as ‘the outsider’.

Aside from the fact that opinions of The Automatic as a whole are generally mixed, opinions on Alex’s role in the band’s line-up divide the musical sphere like pop-punk Marmite, ranging from harsh criticism to the exuding positivity. His is the element of the band that separates them from any other act and, arguably, makes them one of the most exciting British bands around, but he is also the focal point for much of the criticism.

Quench caught up with Alex just after the Full Ponty festival in Pontypridd, before he jetted off to America for the Warp tour. There is a notably refreshing difference between Alex’s down-to-earth nature and most other people involved in the music industry, almost instantly. “My favourite types of definitions of things are just describing what they are, like I wouldn’t like to describe myself as a rock star, or a musician, or a professional musician, I’d just like to describe myself as someone who’s in a band.” But the tensions within Alex himself

A

PHOTOS: JAM ES PEROU

are obvious: he’s a little punk kid who has been plonked right in the middle of the mainstream, and that gets him a lot of stick.

“In a way I do something a lot of people don’t respect and would really not want to be a part of. I think if they didn’t know what I did I’d feel fine, but I think that everyone knows that I’m in a mainstream band, so I think it is, definitely a big thing within myself, psychologically. I never really see it, it’s never really apparent physically or verbally in people but

I wouldn't like to describe

EIGHT

The Automatic, such as the re-release of singles, the comedy videos and the direction of the album.

“Control is a massive issue. I think the only real route for this band in what I want to do is I either leave and get control from something else or perseverve and get to a stage where we have control. That’s quite a long way away, that’s weird, that’s like a fourth album kind of thing. You get control. Which is kind of insane.

“It’s not something I’ve ever thought about because we signed to an indie label and I was like ‘cool’. Looking back, I would definitely have been a lot more careful.”

Of course, The Automatic have a little Monster of their own to deal with, one that seems to have become tiresome and often something of a curse for the band, “I don’t think the song needs any more attention and I don’t want any other ridiculous misinterpretation of what the song is meant to be about going around the world.

“I think we made a big enough mistake with our video. It was fun making it but I have fun making videos anyway because I like the social aspect of it. I like the make up people and the costume designers and the cameramen. They’re just nice people and they go to work ‘cause they’re good at working with people because they’re people’s people. It’s good fun” Alex has been something of a self-professed punk since the age of 14. “It’s weird because loads of people are influenced by those people who ‘did it first’ or were there at the beginning. Y’know like when people are influenced by Black Flag or whatever, I’m sort

myself as a rock star, just as someone who’s in a band I’m not sure if it’s there or not.”

The Automatic are often considered something of a joke band; without offence Alex seems to take this in his stride. “It’s not taken seriously by everyone, I suppose. It’s not a serious-sounding music. It’s probably just because it is really mainstream music and the general fanbase, is like young children and things like that, and people who don’t take it seriously and just go ‘Yay! This is nice.’ It’s not really people who care about it.

If people don’t really care about things, then why should people take them seriously?”

The music industry is a seething capitalist monster, that’s no secret, whipping up new bands like freshly baked fondant fancies and spitting them out when it’s time for something new. There is a great deal of speculation over whether many of the decisions are made by

INTERVIEWS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

INTERVIEWS of jealous of that because it seems more pure. The band it all started with for me, I suppose, was At The Drive In. I found myself being influenced by bands who were themselves influenced by the originators.”

South Wales has an active and healthy hardcore punk scene or what some might call a community. “It's a really nice way of being. A lot of hardcore punk and punk is just really good-willed. Like in a way they won't eat meat and they won't wear leather because it harms animals. They won't drink and they won't do drugs because it's bad for themselves and it's bad for the people around them.” It seems as though Alex may have found, in this close-knit community, a place where understanding and appreciating music is a high priority; just the remedy for the restlessness of being constantly immersed in the mainstream. “Punk has become a general fashion idea. It's another part of people who don't understand it, don't know what it is and so it is easily sold to them because they don't generally understand it. So they just assume that what is out there is what is right, which it isn't. If they look into it they'll find different things about it and they'll learn about it.

“I think if you care about anything you need to know where it comes from, how it originated and what it's about. A lot of them are just kids and they see it in Topshop and they think the stars and the chequers are cool and just wear it. I don't think it’s as thought out or planned as fake. I'd never call kids like that fake because I don't think they're trying to be anything else; they're just not really trying enough.

“The thing with pop culture is that you can learn a lot from magazines, which is ridiculous. It's them telling you and then a lot of people assuming that it's right and you're not really getting any feedback. If you do get feedback it's controlled by them anyway, because they choose what they want to put in their magazine, full stop.”

A headline slot on the NME Awards Tour earlier this year gave Alex ample opportunity to cast a shadow on the mainstream masses below, but he certainly wasn’t convinced by certain support bands, “Everyone is cooler than The View – they look like they’ve watched too many Rolling Stones documentaries and are sad that they missed out of The Libertines because they were still foetal.”

The tour was closely followed by the ceremony at Hammersmith Palais in London: “The NME Awards were a perfect example of everything I hate about the music industry.

Fuelled by money and drugs. It’s just not what I’m interested in.”

Straightedge culture is often something associated with hardcore punk, where people

chose to opt out of drinking, drug-taking and casual sex, and although, as Alex has eluded to, this crosses over with the hardcore punk idea of good will, it is something that does always sit right for him. “There’s a lot of fakers out there and I think a lot of people feel like they have to be in that sort of position so they have, like, a moral high ground, so they can be like, ‘I don't do this, I don't do that, you are wrong, I am right.’ But I think there's no wrong or right, it's all choices for yourself and that's why, like, I got sent an email yesterday from PETA and they wanted me to do an interview about being a vegetarian and I said, ‘No, I don't want to, because it's not anyone's business. I think it's become a big part of the culture but it's not a part of the music so I shouldn't have to talk about that because it's my own thing and I don't really care if everyone knows or not. And they're weird anyway, PETA, kind of like Nazi vegetarians”, he laughs.

After the release of debut album Not Accepted Anywhere in July last year, there was a certain level of backlash towards the band, and although Alex hints towards his increasing disenchantment towards the record and its lack of ability to put across what the band are really about, he goes on to say, “shows are the main thing for me; I like going to shows as well. I'm not really a massive part of the punk community in South Wales but I like to go to gigs whenever I can. I get to see the same people and I've made lots of friends through it.”

It’s through performing live that Alex believes the band are really able to show what they are made of. Talking about the impending American tour, Alex’s pure anticipation about attempting to win over an entire nation through live shows alone is electrifying, and although the album is receiving a new and “hopefully heavier” mix, with Alex rerecording many of his vocals, it’s the thought of hitting the stage that really seems to set his eyes on fire. “I'd love to be in a hardcore band and just go. I know I could. I think they'd welcome me to hardcore music anyway - obviously it'd be different because I'd have different music to do it to, but I mean the way I've been performing lately has been very much like that anyway. I've been really influenced by a lot of the music I've been listening to recently.

“I'll learn about a few bands from like, say, Frank from Gallows or Frank Turner (ex-Million Dead, Kneejerk) who’s been involved with hardcore since he was like 16/17 - he started a band. Now he's about 24, y'know he'll talk to me about a band and I'll learn something about them and then when someone brings them up in conversation I'll have something positive to say about them. It is an exchange of what you know a lot of the time.”

Having just recently played this year’s Full Ponty festival in Ponypridd, Alex reflects, “It was pretty horrible; lots of bands sounded

“” eird And they're wTA, anyway, PE zi a kind of like Ns vegetarian

INTERVIEWS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

the same. Emo/punk/pop thing, some did it well, like Kids In Glass Houses, and some didn’t, mentioning no names. I thought it was quite ironic that Head Automatica played on the Thursday and then loads of bands sounded like them for the rest of the weekend.”

Reflecting back on his punk roots, Alex notes, “it happens to quite a lot of bands: they turn from being hardcore punk bands into pop-punk bands, like Head Automatica.

It seems like people feel they earn their stripes and then can do whatever they want.

It felt really Americanised - I mean Cardiff’s kind of always been like that, but it was weird seeing half an hour on TV proving it.”

June sees The Automatic return home to play this year’s University Summer Ball alongside The Feeling and BBC Radio1’s Trevor Nelson and Zane Lowe. After playing a stint of uni balls around the country, Alex seems a little downhearted by the prospect. In a similar vein to how he feels about popular music and mainstream culture in general, he goes on to say that events that have loads of potential to put on amazing shows often fall a little flat: “It’s just that no one seems to give a crap. I don’t really mind if they don’t seem interested, because we’re there to grab your attention and try and show you what we’re about or whatever, but people shouldn’t come and see us if they don’t want to, because why should I care if you don’t?”

So there you have it. An idealistic little fire-cracker of a person, ready to take the world on piece by piece and by God, he’s going to give it a good go, starting with America at the end of the month. He may not be truly content with the industry in which he finds himself in but, against the odds, he’s managed to forge out his own piece of happiness. He’s perfectly content in his own wellworn shoes, and that is priceless.

NINE

INTERVIEWS

Ready steady Cook Amira Hashish and Nicola Menage speak to investigative journalist Roger Cook

R

oger Cook has had an impressive career. He began as a newspaper and television reporter and subsequently joined BBC Radio 4’s The World at One, working on several BBC radio and television programmes such as PM, Nationwide and Newsnight. He created and presented Radio 4 Programme Checkpoint, specialising in investigating and exposing criminals before moving to Central and creating The Cook Report, an investigative show in which he would often get verbally and physically abused.

Yet Cook says he has never been scared during his encounters. “I’ve had loads of dangerous moments. I never get terrified. I suffer from what I call ‘fear in arrears,’ in other words, ‘what have I done now? It’s like lion taming; if you’re scared you cope less well with what you’re faced with. So I try never to.”

Despite a now impressive array of achievements, journalism was, for Cook, initially something he came into contact with only as a way of funding a different ambition. “I was going to be a vet. And I was paying my way through the University of Australia by being a broadcaster during the day. I used the voice to read the news and I began to think, with the arrogance of youth (which I hope you still have) I shouldn’t be reading this I should be changing it! So I changed disciplines from Vetenary Science to English Literature - that was before they told me to leave! They asked me to go home and reconsider my position. I won’t tell you why, but I wasn’t a very good boy.

“No one has ever asked me if I’ve got a degree and I think that all a piece of paper does is tell the employer that your head works. And I’ve never done a job interview in my life!”

Cook has advice for those hoping to follow in his footsteps.“I never write notes,” he says matter-of-factly. “It means you don’t listen. The best advice I could give journalists would be to listen.”

So what other qualities make a good journalist? “Fairness, tenaciousness. I’m certainly tenacious. I was once described in a newspaper as a man who wouldn’t take yes for an

answer.”

It becomes apparent that this particular journalist is a perfectionist. “There’s a 1,000 programmes that I think I have made mistakes on. But I don’t keep any clippings or programmes because you can always do it better. I’ve had to look at things for this retrospective programme I’m doing now and I think, ‘I could have done that better!’”

“I was once described as

a man who wouldn’t take yes for

TEN

an answer” Despite the abuse Cook has dealt with during his years of investigative journalism his enthusiasm for the job has never been deterred.

“It never put me off,” he explains. “I would do it all again, as they say.”

He gives us a taster of the lifestyle that comes with his journalistic territory after we ask which countries he has most enjoyed visit-

ing.

“I don’t see any of them. But I think there’s something to be said for most places. All you ever see if you do what I do is the inside of a big cigar tube as you hurtle round the world. I’ve just got back from the United States and I did six states in two and a half days.”

The reporter’s reponse to the idea of him enjoying this lifestyle is frank.“I absolutely do not enjoy it! I’ve been having a break from it but even then I have to fill my time with something otherwise I get bored easily. If I’m not doing that I fill my time with other things such as being Professor of Broadcast Journalism at Nottingham Trent University.”

Cook is currently promoting his new book, More Dangerous Ground, following the previous Dangerous Ground. The texts document the inside stories of his life as as an investigative journalist.

The writer gives us an insight into the process of putting the book together. “This one took about five years to complete,” he explains. “But most of that was waiting for things to happen. You have to make the time to write a book. You can make time to do anything you want. It may mean working through the night which is what I did.”

INTERVIEWS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

INTERVIEWS

Mock the man

Amira Hashish talks to Mock The Week host and stand-up comic, Dara O’ Briain, before he entertains his Hay Festival audience...

Have you enjoyed your time at this year’s Hay festival?

care anymore. I get bored but I don’t worry about my dignity.

Very much so. I am here to do a show. It is slightly odd because I am in between tours so you never know what is going to come out on stage. I came a day early to soak up a bit of the atmosphere and everything has been great. I have been buying books and attending shows.

Have there been any nerve-wracking moments in your shows?

What makes you laugh?

Other comics. There are millions of them that I like to go and watch. It is not in the way that I want to be ahead of the curve or anything but I see a lot of stuff. I am a huge fan of people like Bill Bailey. All comedians are comedy anoraks. We are big comedy nerds.

My current favourite comedian is called Dave Atell. He has a brilliant live DVD called Skanks For The Memories. It is well worth checking out. That is the kind of level we are at.

Do you ever get embarrassed?

On a personal level I would not say so. That’s probably not because I am a comedian though. It has more to do with age. I am 35 now, so I don’t stick posters up on my bedroom wall anymore or have idols or get embarrassed. When you are younger you worry how people will perceive you but I don’t INTERVIEWS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

I still get nervous at every show. I am about to go and do a gig and I am really nervous about that. If you are not nervous, you do not care. You have to consider that people have invested money in coming to see you. This is a big part of their evening. You have the happiness of other people in your hands so you

“

You have to consider that people have invested money in coming to see you. This is a big part of their evening. should worry. In every audience there will be groups of friends. One person may know your work and then drag their friends along. If you are shit you risk ruining friendships. I want people to go home thinking their friends have worthwhile recommendations to make.

What would be your advice for those considering getting involved in the comedy cir-

cuit?

It is very easy to get involved in stand-up. I think the most difficult part is moving to cities like London or Manchester where there are lots of really good comedians. You need an audience to respond to you though. In stand-up there is no entry level at all. You just go and do it.

Was there any other career option for you?

If I was not a comedian I would probably be involved in media. I have done the journalism thing and enjoyed it.

Did you go to uni?

Yes, I did a degree in Theoretical Physics. It is completely different from anything I am involved in now. So much so that I have done nothing with it, nor will I ever. I went to University College Dublin. I was the co-editor and co-founder of the college newspaper there.

If I gave you a million pounds what is the first thing you would do?

I would probably pay off my mortgage straight away. I am in the process of buying a house so it would be helpful. I would not want to take time off doing what I do because I really enjoy it. My work is play time on stage.

ELEVEN

INTERVIEWS The Interviews team brings you the news and gossip from this year’s Hay Festival

PHOTOS: JAMES PEROU

SPOTTED Dara O’ Briain having a relaxing lunch in the outdoor cafe after attending some talks.

Edwina Currie smiling at passers-by in the green room.

Kiran Desai being accidetally hit with a toilet door by an annonymous member of the interviews team.

HAY HISTORY The Hay Festival of Literature and Arts is an annual literature festival held in Hay-on-Wye for 10 days. Devised by Peter Florence in 1988, the festival was described by Bill Clinton in 2001 as "the Woodstock of the mind.” Since its inception, the festival has been held at a variety of venues around Hay until 2005 when it moved to a central location just outside of the town. The Guardian has been the main sponsor of the festival since 2002, succeeding The Sunday Times.

The festival has expanded in recent years and now includes musical performances and film previews. A children's festival, ‘Hay Fever’, runs alongside the main festival. It has also expanded internationally and sister festivals take place in Cartagena and Segovia. Tickets are free for students. If you didn’t make it this year, make sure you don’t miss the next one.

Gordon Brown rushing away from press after leaving his talk in the Barclays Wealth Pavillion.

Clive James in the town centre.

Andrew Marr accidentally bumping into everyone in the green room.

Leslie Phillips leaving the ‘artists only’ restaurant.

Richard Dawkins leaving the festival bookshop and running late for an interview.

Gruff Rhys playing with children’s music toys.

Simon Jenkins reading a newspaper.

Bob Geldof in a tent

Vivienne Westwood shocked onlookers in her talk in which she unveiled her cultural manifesto. The piece was hard to follow and even Vivienne lost thread of what she was saying. She also claimed that the audience members at the literary festival were not as avid readers as her. One man rose, theatrically stretched, sighed loudly, and left the tent. Many others followed suit. It was entertaining to say the least.

TOP OF THE TALKS Journalists: Jon Snow (LEFT)/George Alagiah/Rageh Omaar/Simon Jenkins Politics: Gordon Brown/William Hague/John Major/David Cameron Science: Richard Dawkins/Steve Jones/Martin Rees TV: Clive James/Dara O’ Briain/Leslie Phillips/David Attenborough (RIGHT) Music: Bob Geldof/Gruff Rhys/Hot Chip Literature: Dave Eggers/Kiran Desai/Wole Soyinka

TWELVE

INTERVIEWS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

FEATURES

! ! ! " FEATURES

# THE MANICS ! ! ! FEATURES # BRISTOL CITY F.C. ! ! ! FEATURES

Fanatics Unite

Three students reveal all to Features about their obsessions, infatuations and lifelong passions...

Chasing the robins Richard Brown reveals the extent of his fanaticism in his diary of a 600-mile round trip to watch his beloved Bristol 7.10am - I am awoken by my alarm clock, and the day is about to begin. Let’s just hope that my bad dream - well, more of a nightmare, actually - of a 1-0 defeat doesn’t come true.

7.30am - After a cup of tea and a hit of Sky Sports News, my brother, two friends and I set off on the trip to Carlisle, which sits about 10 miles from the Scottish border.

9.00am - We spot some fellow City fans on a mini-bus on the M5. I beep the horn to alert our comrades to our presence and, in return, much badge-kissing and scarf-waving ensues.

11.15am - We see our first sign for Carlisle after almost four hours in the car. And it’s still 83 miles away. Brilliant.

12.30pm - We arrive! Five hours after setting off, we are in Carlisle. I’ve certainly seen shoddier cities, such as Hull on a Tuesday night – not a pretty sight.

1.00pm - We are reliably informed by a Carlisle fan that the best place to get a pint is the Carlisle Rugby Club. We approach the pub and are welcomed by a sea of red and

FEATURES@GAIRRHYDD.COM

white - it seems that, like us, plenty of City fans have arrived early, and a good atmosphere is developing as quiet optimism is very much the order of the day. After all, if you’re going to make a 600-mile round-trip, you have to at least hope for a victory.

2.45pm - A cheeseburger and pint of Fosters for £4.40 is good value. No, it wasn’t exactly the City fans rise to their feet to salute their free-range-organic; in fact, it resembled more heroes. Our players and management applaud the City fans for our support, and the of a cheese roll. But it did the job.

3.00pm - As the players run out, we give our win is celebrated in style on the terraces with heroes a rapturous welcome. The City contin- renditions of ‘We are going up!’

5.10pm - As we walk back to the car, opinions gent is in good voice, and a crowd about the game are totaling over 10,000 has creatshared amongst ed an excellent atmosphere opposition fans. All as we settle down into our There of the Carlisle fans seats. wish us luck next 3.05pm - Disaster strikes is nowhere I would season, and there as Carlisle open the scorrather be on a is not an ounce of ing after some woeful Saturday at 3pm than bad feeling between defending. No words can the two sets of supexpress the feeling of disapin the stands porters. It is only when pointment at this stage. We watching you travel the length and glumly stare into space.

Bristol City breadth of the nation follow3.45pm - Joyous outbreaks greet ing football that you realise City’s rather fortunate equaliser. After play violence really is a thing of rarity; a half of being outplayed, we have the vast majority of us simply love the somehow managed to get to half time at game.

1-1. A much better second half perform8.30pm - We stop off in Eccleshall, near ance is required if we are going to turn Crewe, for a celebratory curry. My exaggeratthis game around. ed sense of masculinity is dampened when, 4.20pm - Bedlam! Enoch Showunmi, our powerful forward, scores to make it 2-1 to after eating an ‘Extra Hot’ dish; I have to run City. I fly across five seats in order to hug my to the car to drink some milk, as the oozing fellow City fans and as we break into song, magma of the curry from Hell napalms my the realisation that City may be getting pro- tonsils.

11.30pm - We finally arrive home, 16 hours moted is starting to hit home.

4.35pm - City look to have sealed the win after setting off. Although the win sweetens with another goal to make it 3-1. A superb the journey, it really isn’t about winning or losgoal, matched by a superb celebration as the ing; it’s about the lifestyle. Would I have City players sprint over to celebrate in front of regretted the 600-mile round-trip if we’d lost? us. We can now begin to expect – not just Let’s just say that there is nowhere I would rather be, on a Saturday at 3pm, than watchhope for victory.

4.50pm - The referee blows his whistle and ing Bristol City play football.

#

THIRTEEN

FEATURES ! ! ! " FEATURES

#

# THE MANICS ! ! ! FEATURES # BRISTOL CITY F.C. ! ! ! FEATURES

A design for life Rhys Trigg reveals all about his ten year love affair with The Manic Street Preachers

I

have recently celebrated my tenth anniversary of being a Manic Street Preachers fan. This shocked me as, frankly, I didn’t think I had any sort of tenth anniversary in me whatsoever (any future marriage, job, you name it - I almost certainly won’t make the big 1-0 on it), let alone in the fickle arena of musical fandom.

Nonetheless, when I lovingly cradled the freshly Spillers-purchased Everything Must Go 10th Anniversary Edition album in my delighted paws last November I experienced one of those frequent realisations that, good Lord, the Manics meant more to me than pretty much anything.

This curiously life-affirming sensation was coupled with the awe that it had actually been ten whole years since the first time I ever heard the band that, to me, was everything.

Let me paint you a picture. It is the year 1996, and little 10year old Rhysy is in the back seat of the car, being driven to school through the dusky and winding roads of wildest Caldicot by Mummy Trigg, trying desperately to cram in as much comic-book reading before school as possible, with one thing on his mind: why was the song emanating from the car radio (later revealed to be the ‘work’ of seminal shit-peddler Wyclef Jean) so infuriatingly annoying and repetitive? The continual barrage of utterly, indisputably terrible music on that fateful journey had continued to the point where I had lost faith in music entirely; my rash and youthful mind had almost made the decision to never, ever listen to music again.

And then I heard it.

That cascading, triumphant guitar motif backed up by the pounding drum part and driving bassline gave way to the vocalist, half-singing, half-screaming that wonderfully bombastic chorus like his life depended

FOURTEEN

The snarling, intelligent and politically charged lyrics of Nicky Wire taught me to No value intelligence wonder, and the power then, that the Manics of language

on it; the music and lyrics roaring from the speakers utterly and unequivocally captivated me. The song was A Design For Life, and my musical life was forever changed.

While I did thereafter insist on listening to A Design For Life wherever possible, I was too young to really pursue an active Manics’ fandom (outside of buying the If You Tolerate This… cassette single from Llanelli Asda).

However, a few years of languishing in the musical wilderness later, after watching that bit in Back To The Future where Marty McFly plays Johnny B Goode to a bunch of unsuspecting 1950s types I fancied learning guitar.

In order to learn the songs I had to buy the albums, which I soon discovered I loved dearly; Everything Must Go and This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours became the chief occupants of my CD player for about a year, before I actually went out and bought the rest of the band’s back catalogue and fell deeply, and permanently, in love with the band.

Never before had any music held such power over (and empowered) me; the snarling, intelligent and politically charged lyrics of Nicky Wire and Richey Edwards taught me to truly value intelligence and the power of language, while James Dean Bradfield and Sean Moore's music was the most inspiring, exciting thing I had ever heard. The combination of the two was like a shot of musical adrenaline; no band had ever fired me up like the Manic Street Preachers.

While the Manics’ musical influence was an enormous factor in my fandom (particularly singer/guitarist Bradfield; I once spent my entire savings account on a white Gibson Les Paul Custom guitar in honour of the man himself), their whole image and personality as a band was just as fascinating.

This was a band whose entire early existence was deliberately constructed as a defiant ‘fuck you’ to the world; they came from the macho Welsh valleys yet dressed like Marc Bolan, played Guns N’Roses-style vitriolic hard rock at a time when the loved-up Manchester ‘baggy’ scene was in full swing, mercilessly verbally assaulted other bands and institutions live and in interviews (some personal favourites include “we will always hate Slowdive more than Adolf Hitler” and while playing Glastonbury, “we should build a bypass over this shithole!”), and exuded a fierce intellect and literary adroitness in the pilled-up early90s idiot culture.

made as many enemies as fans, but the band has always worked best when fighting their way out of a corner and spitting in the face of adversity. While much of this attitude was diluted after Richey Edwards’ disappearance in 1994, it was still a fine ideology to cling on to in the face of the staunch negativity modern Manics fandom regularly receives.

Particularly when in school, friends’ negativity towards the Manics somehow only made me love them more, presumably due to the band’s much-appreciated awakening of my inner contrary bastard.

I first saw the band live in 2001 at Cardiff’s CIA. I can only liken it to some sort of religious experience; perhaps, if you believe in that sort of thing, like seeing God. But better, obviously.

Since then, I’ve been to see the band eight times, met them a few times (progressing from my first meeting them at a signing years back and pretty much only being able to communicate with my heroes through the twin mediums of curious little ‘eee’ noises and general shaking, through to an in-depth 15 minute chat with James Dean Bradfield last summer about guitars, favourite albums, his solo project and how everyone hates their own recorded voice), bought nine copies of the latest single in a futile bid to rocket the band up to Number One, and generally put anything Manic Street Preachers-related before my degree.

You Love Us? Damn right. Here’s to another ten years.

Rhys Trigg with his hero after a gig in Newbridge

FEATURES@GAIRRHYDD.COM

FEATURES

S ! " DOCTOR WHO

# # # " FEATURES

! THE MANICS # # # FEATURES ! BRISTOL CITY F

In love with the doc When he was just eight years old Caleb Woodbridge’s imagination was captured by the Time Lord...

Features took to the streets to discover more student obsessions

O

despite being a Time Lord of Gallifrey is a bsessed, me? Well, maybe, but I'm at distinctively British hero, a mysterious and peace with my inner geek and not eccentric wanderer who defeats evil not ashamed to come out of the TARDIS through force or weapons, but through his and admit my love of Doctor Who. wits and intelligence. The show never lets Fanishness, if that's a word, often seems budget get in the way of imagination, which to be the result of early ‘imprinting’, like a chick on a mother hen, and my love of Doctor is immensly endearing, and while taking the drama of each Who is no exception. Despite the story seriseries being off our television ously, screens, as a voracious eightalways year-old bookworm, I borrowed I can has a loads of Doctor Who novelisaprobably remember the sense of tions from the library. Through fun and repeats on BBC2 in 1999, I titles of the almost 200 humour. started buying videos and stories there have been, I only spin-offs, such as the novels paddle in and audio dramas, and so by more-or-less in order, the shallow the time Doctor Who returned to and know which end of obsesour screens in 2005, I was already was the first sion compared a scarf-waving fan. to some fans.

Doctor Who appeals in a number of story to have Although I've got ways. Most imporsubtitles some of the videos tant is the characand one or two (well, ter of the Doctor, maybe three or five) pieces of who Who merchandise, I don't have the compulsive urge to buy anything with the Doctor Who logo on it. But I can probably remember the titles of the almost 200 stories there have been, more-or-less in order, and know which was the first story to have subtitles on Ceefax, so I must admit my geekiness goes quite a long way.

Cardiff is the place to be for a Doctor Who fan at the moment. One of the pleasures of living here is sometimes turning a corner to find Doctor Who filming in the next street. I once bumped into Russell T Davies, head of Doctor Who, in the Woodville Pub, and can pick up lots of gossip by keeping my ears to the ground, (the finale of this series contains the words ‘spheres’, ‘paradox’ and ‘Axon’, by the way!)

An alien who travels time and space in a police box; stories that can go anywhere across time and space; a courageous, intelligent hero who saves the world armed only with a sonic screwdriver and a bag of jelly babies. What I can't understand is why anyone wouldn't love Doctor Who!

!

FEATURES@GAIRRHYDD.COM

SHOES

Catherine Shepherd, 2nd Year, Psychology

I adore shoes, I just wish I could afford more. I reckon I’ve got about 30 pairs.

Stilletos are without a doubt my favourites.

FOOTBALL

I’ve loved playing football ever since I was old enough to kick a ball. I play as much as I can and am a massive Bolton Wonderers fan. Karl Holland, 3rd Year, Business Admin

FOOD

Bryony Sheaves, 2nd Year, Psychology

When it comes to food it’s all about the sweet stuff! The lemon muffins in Kappucinos are damn good.

BBQs

You just can’t beat a good barbie in the summer. It’s all about the steak for me.

Kyle Green, 3rd Year, Business Admin

THE LIBRARY

Hannah Dowling, 2nd Year, Psychology

I wish it wasn’t my obsession, but sadly my life at the minute revolves around 12 hour stints in the Arts and Social Library.

FIFTEEN

FEATURES

Famous for 3 minutes and 50 seconds Plucked from the crowd to sing a duet with Bryan Adams in front of 10,000 people, Cardiff student Lucy Andrew recounts her experience, and tries not to let the fame go to her head...

I

was at that icky stage of my assessed essays where I’d read over them again and again, but somehow just knew that there were at least 20 ridiculous mistakes in there somewhere. It was definitely time for a night off. After all, getting to that stage a week before essay hand-in is pretty impressive (and equally sickening for those friends who haven’t).

But when I contemplated this ‘night off’, I didn’t expect it to involve singing onstage in front of 10,000 people at the Birmingham NEC with one of the world’s most famous soft rock stars. No matter how ‘hip’ you are, you’ll have heard of Bryan Adams, the man who brought us such hits as ‘Summer of 69’ (who can survive a night out without it?) and spent sixteen weeks at number one with ‘Everything I Do’ in 1991. Truly a legend.

So when Bryan was searching the crowd for a leading lady to sing ‘When You’re Gone’ with him, the duet he originally recorded with Mel C, I didn’t expect to be his first choice. Jumping up and down like a bunny on Prozac with my mother (yes, I take my mother to all my concerts) shouting : “she wants to do it!”

SIXTEEN

at the top of her voice, we somehow managed to attract Bryan’s attention.

As he announced his decision of “the girl in the black t-shirt”, I made a quick scan of the crowd – after all, I couldn’t be the only girl in a black t-shirt giving the impression that she was madly in love with Bryan Adams. Apparently, I was. After attempting to throw myself over the upstairs barrier to make my way to the stage, the security guards dragged me off in the opposite direction, down some stairs – a much more sensible option – and made me run all the way to the stage. After making it up a stepladder onto the stage, it was time to meet Bryan. And let me tell you – he is even more attractive up close. “It’s not possible!” I hear you cry. But I assure you, he was!

After being booed by thousands of Brummies after announcing that I was from Wolverhampton, and sharing the most important aspects of my life story, I decided to say my hellos (without any prompting from Bryan) to my mum, and my best friend from Cardiff, who also happened to be at the concert with her boyfriend and her mum and dad. And then the terrible moment arose. After

I jumped up and down like a bunny on Prozac with my mother (yes, I take my mother to all my concerts) shouting ‘She wants to do it!’

FEATURES@GAIRRHYDD.COM

“

I’d had mediocre solo parts with my local musical theatre and I’d sung for my music GCSE. So yes, I could sing, I decided.

BRYAN ADAMS: Gritty 90s rock star with hardcore tattoos

wrestling back control of the microphone, Bryan asked the million-dollar question: “Can you sing?”

Hmmm, what to say? I’d had mediocre solo parts with my local musical theatre group, (one such role saw me playing a swan – make of that what you will), and I’d sung for my music GCSE. So yes, I could sing, I decided. And as a compromise (so as not to look too stupid) I replied “Erm, a bit.” But I needn’t have worried about looking stupid – my performance inevitably did that for me.

Perhaps what Mr Adams should have asked was not “Can you sing?” but “Can you sing in front of 10,000 people with a band so loud that you can’t actually hear yourself at all?” In case you’re wondering, I couldn’t. And, having heard the recording afterwards, it’s a blessing that I wasn’t able to hear myself. But I at least attempted to make up for it in enthusiasm. In usual circumstances, my mother would have locked me up if she had seen me dancing like that with a 47year-old man (not that it’s a regular occurrence). Lucky for me that my mum has different rules for Canadian rock stars.

Needless to say, I rather enjoyed myself at the time. And making my way back to my seat, gripping Bryan’s plectrum, (that’s a guitar pick – before you non-musical types become alarmed), a card was thrust into my hand from the programme director of Heart FM: “We want you on the show in the morning.” Great! I’m famous!

If I’d realised that being famous meant getting up at 7am to answer their phone call, I might not have been quite so enthusiastic. I was showered with text messages the morning it aired – mainly due to the fact that I’d called up everyone I knew the night before and told them to listen. I even had a mention in my local paper: “The moment Adams plucked Lucy from Wolverhampton to duet with him on When You’re Gone was simply wicked.”

Notice it diplomatically mentions nothing about my performance.

And then I crashed back down to earth – and it was painful. A link to YouTube led me to a recording of my performance. Luckily, the recording

FEATURES quality was so poor that I couldn’t hear much of the ‘vocals’, for want of a better term. One viewer, however, had not had such a lucky escape: ‘She shot herself in the foot when she said she could sing, then she sang it like “Boy everyone is thinking I should be a singer.” Sorry but that was the worst I’ve seen it done and that’s about five times! People were actually laughing at her!” Oh dear! From superstar to laughing stock in the space of a few seconds, I’d witnessed the darker side of celebrity. Sure, everyone’s talking about you, (OK, so there were only four comments, but that’s four more than I usually get), but they’re not necessarily saying nice things.

Imagine being in the public eye all the time. It would be like hearing every bitchy comment that your would-be friends direct at you behind your back.

Sure, some people prefer the honest approach, but I for one would rather live in ignorance. If people think I’m a joke, I’d rather not be in on it. Sensitive soul that I am, the above criticism nearly ruined the whole experience for me. My mum obtained a copy of the video from a friend yesterday and warned me that the vocals were a bit, erm, ‘off’. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t watch it. But I think perhaps I will. After all, it was only a bit of fun. I wasn’t expecting to win any awards for it. And it doesn’t pay to take yourself too seriously.

“

If I’d realised that being famous meant getting up at 7am to answer the phone, I might not have been quite so enthusiastic And if you don’t want to hear negative comments about yourself, then don’t listen to them. I’ve been logging on to YouTube every day since that first horrific onslaught, with all the grim fascination of a driver slowing down to gawp at a car wreckage on the opposite side of the carriageway. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, until I found it this morning: “As 4 Lucy, I think any1 who has the balls to go up on stage and sing with an international music icon in front of 1000s of people deserves credit. OK, it wasn’t like listening to Mel C up there, but she was giving it the beans and dancing with him too. The people near us weren’t laughing at her singing, they were laughing at her having the balls to gyrate her hips next to him!!”

You see: I have balls. And sure, Mr Critic, that may have been the worst you’ve seen it done... but it was also the fifth best. Fame’s not so bad after all.

SEVENTEEN

FASHION

Wardrobe Wars

Fashion Desk invades the wardrobes of several stylish students Over the past year we, here at Fashion Desk, have been advising you, the students, on the latest trends and tripe that have been gracing the catwalks and hammering the highstreet. Now, we’ve been wondering: does our advice sink in, or even matter to our readers? We invaded the wardrobes of several students to find out what item of clothing actually mattered to them.

Lizzy, my sequinned skirt: It’s been something of a whirlwind romance between the two of us. Love at first sight in a Primark changing room followed by a heady few days and some very late nights. I feel that this is the ultimate mini-skirt; evoking the spirit of its sixties forefathers (foremothers?) in epitomising youth and freedom. I like pairing it with trainers and a basic t because I think it looks grunge; which is my next look…

Oz, my jeans: Maybe they aren’t my favourite item of clothing but without doubt they are the most worn. I don’t wash jeans. They go starchy. The layers of food and paint have added to the colour changes. They are Levis and over Easter I was in the Levi section of Selfridges and the Levis’ woman complimented me on my customisation; for example the staples at the bottom to heal a tear. She thought it was deliberate. Dense bitch.

Meme, my vintage dress: I got this dress from a vintage arcade in Exeter. It was £5 and I loved it the minute I saw it.

Unfortunately it is a size too small so I can't bend over in it or eat any food while wearing it but apart from that it’s shiny and golden and great!

EIGHTEEN

Lucy, my bat jumper: I got hold of this little bat-winged marvel at a village jumble sale about a year ago. I love the colours and glittery thread that runs through the peacock feather design. I wear it with washed-out skinnies, but usually manage to restrain myself from breaking out the old acid legwarmers, yellow lipstick and fluorescent bangles too.

Michael, my red shoes: I bought them from my sister. She picked them up from a car boot sale in Suffolk and I bought them from her at a reduced price. When people ask where I got them from, I have to tell them I’ve got the same size feet as my sister.

FASHION@GAIRRHYDD.COM

FASHION Matt Hitt talks to Cardiff University graduate/designer done good, Josie Beckett, brainchild of clothing label whereareyounow?

Josie x

Home-grown style M

ost students talk a lot of crap.

Particularly when it comes to postuniversity plans. The thousands of conversations about how you’re ‘totally moving to London after uni’ or how you’re planning on starting up your own little organic juice bar will, most likely, never develop beyond a drunken pipedream. That, I’m afraid, is how the proverbial cookie crumbles; cést la vie!

Unless, of course, your love of clothes leads you to plans to start up a clothing label, and your focus and devotion leads from one thing to another, and then that one thing that you want to make happen so bad actually works and, though you started out by making little dresses for your friends you’ll eventually wind up with your own rail in Topshop’s flagship store. At least that’s the reality for Josie Beckett, who has been designing clothes for her label whereareyounow? Josie x.

Despite having never formally studied a degree in Fashion, Josie managed to utilize her own initiative and sense of style to begin designing her own clothes. “I made a few items to wear to friends’ parties and on the occasions I did make things, people always commented favourably on them, so I thought it made sense to make more for other people.” Josie, with her then cofounder, initially christened the label BowHo but this year saw the emancipation of whereareyounow?

Josie x, with Josie being the label’s sole owner.

However, it took a long time to get to this point, especially as Josie was venturing into a business she initially, in

terms of business, knew little about. “I tested the market with a range of products everything from printed t-shirts to handbags, until I found a style that seemed to work for me. I also worked to support the project financially,” she said.

Finding her style is something that appears to have developed fast - Josie now designs outfits based exclusively upon old garments and materials she finds ‘everywhere and anywhere’. “The items I find solely provide the inspiration - if I find a beautiful, delicate, lace panel, that will inspire me in a different way to a tasseled cushion cover!” By recycling old materials, Josie’s pieces are modern heirlooms and are truly unique.

So much so that last Christmas Josie was scouted selling at Spitalfields market and was offered her own space in Topshop’s Oxford Circus store. Such success has meant that the design process has transformed from an arbitrary hobby to a full-on working week. “I spend one day a

week compiling around 80 pieces. A lot of my skirts are made pairing vintage fabric with belts - once this is done, they are sent off to my ten ladies who make them up that week and then I pick them up ready to sell. During the week, I then work on new designs loosely based on trends, although I do believe in offering something other people aren’t.”

I visited Josie’s rail in Topshop (it’s near the café bit) and it seems like she really is offering something, rather ironically considering the age of her materials, completely new.

Some of the other rails were offering fourthdivision versions of what Topshop already sold upstairs but Josie’s dresses made from vintage silk scarves genuinely stood out.

Of her own designs Josie says: “They are fun. They are made for an occasion and are bound to get you noticed. Each one is made using vintage finds to make a truly unique piece.” In five years she hopes to be ‘selling worldwide online’. Considering she only graduated and started properly designing four years ago, and is now being sold in arguably Britain’s most popular shop, you’d be a fool to doubt her.

You can get hold of whereareyounow?

Josie x dresses in Pussy Galore in Cardiff and Topshop in Oxford Circus as well as selected boutiques across the UK.

Despite having never formally studied a degree in Fashion, Josie managed to utilize her own initiative and sense of style to begin designing her own clothes

FASHION@GAIRRHYDD.COM

NINETEEN

TRAVEL

Israel: A tale of two cities Amy Grier takes us to Jerusalem and Tel Aviv in her exploration of the wonders of Israel

A

country about the same size as Wales, Israel is culturally diverse yet sparsely populated. Its unique landscape means that you can ski in Mount Hamon in the north, and then drive four hours south to lay on the sandy beaches in Eilat. Despite this and many other attractions, the current political climate has, for many, stuck Israel permanently off the list of holiday destinations. However, after my recent visit to Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, I found that Israel has much more to offer than the headlines suggest.

Jerusalem

J

erusalem, the capital, only has about 600,000 residents spread across the Old City and the New City. The Old City is divided into quarters; the Jewish Quarter, home of the Western Wall; the Christian quarter, which encompasses the site of Christ’s crucifixion; the Muslim/Arab quarter which has the Dome of the Rock, and the relatively new Armenian quarter.

Aside from its historical and religious significance, the Old City is fascinating in its very presence as one of the oldest surviving walled cities in the world. The different ‘quarters’ all run into one another in a sprawling maze of narrow cobbled streets; the awnings from the different shops and restaurants meet so that it’s hard to tell, once you are in there, whether it is day or night. With all the different cultures and religions confined to a relatively small area, the Old City is almost a microcosm of Israeli society. Unfortunately, this means that like the country itself, the Old City does have its problems; walking around at night is not advisable, particularly in certain quarters.

Religious tensions run high in this confined area, and for this reason it is better to err on the side of caution. But during the day, providing you have a good map and razorsharp haggling skills, the Old City is a defiTWENTY

nite must-see.

The New City of Jerusalem is just like any other modern capital, and appropriately boasts an impressive array of museums, shops and restaurants. Well worth a visit is the ‘Shuk’ (pronounced ‘shook’) or market in the north of the city. This covered market is like an extended Aladdin’s cave. Hidden behind the busy modern streets, it is overwhelming in its array of visual and olfactory colour: it’s a little bit of the real Middle-East in the centre of a busy City.

Lastly, when talking about Jerusalem, I must address the issue of safety. The truth is that at no point did I feel unsafe. No one takes security more seriously than the Israeli’s; and in a strange way the fact that the threat is so obvious and open lessens the fear of the unknown. As one of the few ‘modern’ countries to have compulsory conscription, there is a heavy army presence on the streets and public transport. The only unnerving thing about this is seeing people younger than me carrying machine guns. It was a culture shock, but one I became accustomed to very quickly. Another thing to note is that everything in Jerusalem, including the buses, shuts down from Friday to Saturday for Shabbat (the Jewish Sabbath).

While this can be quite an inconvenient and surreal experience for most Westerners (myself included), it is also quite refreshing after the organised chaos which predominates during the week. It’s like the whole city takes a deep breath over Shabbat, before returning to the hectic struggle of everyday life.

Tel Aviv

A

fter five days of heavy sight-seeing in Jerusalem, I was ready for a more laid back pace of life and hopped on a bus to the next city, Tel Aviv. Only 45 minutes (add an extra half an hour for the airport-style security at the bus depot) down

the motorway, Tel Aviv, the modern financial centre of Israel, has an altogether different feel to Jerusalem.

Described as a ‘den of heathen’s’ by a particularly religious man I met in Jerusalem, Tel Aviv’s mainly secular population, great beach and busy night life has led to its reputation within Israel as a bit of a party-city. I am pleased to report that this is most definitely the case. Drum and bass and Dance music are big, and the clubs regularly attract some pretty reputable DJ’s.

Bars stay open till 5am, drinks are cheap and Shisha (a kind of fruit flavoured tobacco) is plentiful. Be aware, however, that the relaxed way of life in this city has diffused into the service industry. The staff in hotels and hostels were particularly challenging/infuriating to my ridiculously polite British mentality; just remember that in Tel Aviv, as in the rest of Israel, the customer is always wrong until proven otherwise. Trust me, it can take a bit of getting used to.

After two days of unadulterated sun-worshipping, I decided to visit Jaffa, a great natural beauty stop on the coast just 10 minutes bus ride from the centre. With not an orange tree in sight, this old disused harbour now has a great flea market (watch out for the actual fleas), a visitor’s centre and museum, as well as the best fresh fish in the city. Despite having my wallet pinched in the market, Jaffa was one of the high points of my trip.

In every way, Israel surpassed my expectations. Between these two cities alone I managed to combine the fun and frolics of a beach holiday with the fast paced action of a city break. Flights are reasonable and the cost of living is much cheaper than most European cities. A country desperately in need of tourism, I would urge people to look beyond the headlines and reconsider Israel as one of the unexpected holiday destinations of the future.

TRAVEL@GAIRRHYDD.COM

TRAVEL

Picture This

Travel takes a trip down memory lane with a few of our favourite photos, and announces the long-anticipated winner of our photo competition.

“This is my brother in a state of agony in a market in Funchal, the capital of Madeira. He always likes to boast that he can eat anything, no matter how spicy it is. On this occasion, he picked up a tiny yet lethal chilli from a tiny old woman’s stall and bit right into it before swaggering off ahead of us. Seconds later, his eyes were watering and he was spitting it all out into a tissue. He wouldn’t stop swearing, which just made it all the more funny for the rest of us. The photo shows him with a glass of beer that we hoped would aid his recovery. And the hanky on the head was my idea...he deserved to look as stupid as possible. Let’s just say he’s been taken down a peg or two since this incident.”

WINNER William Hitchins on the Morocco Hitch “I took this photo when I was feeling a little down one day (I was worried about not feeling accepted and loved by foreign cultures) - life can be hard on the road! Sometimes I found waiting for lifts very difficult, as I’m not a very patient character, but the hitch filled me with such a huge sense of achievement, it was worth every second waiting by the side of the road!”

Chris Rogers discovers the wonder of ‘Chingrish’ in Beijing “It was lucky this sign (right) was posted on the front of the cinema - I can’t even imagine what kind of trouble I would have got into if I hadn’t had stopped and emptied my bag of the cocaine I was carrying, along with the small nuclear missile that I take on all my travels. And where would I be had I not taken heed of the public safety notice, dispensing sound advice on my safety regarding correct sightseeing protocol? ‘Chingrish’ is a great part of the Chinese experience, but one soon to disappear with the ‘upgrading’ of Beijing for the upcoming Olympics.

It will be sadly missed...”

TRAVEL@GAIRRHYDD.COM

Congratulations Tasha Prest-Smith, enjoy your free subscription to Working Abroad Magazine!

Jim Whiteley gets a ride in the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia “The best things in life are free - and this free ride from a bus full of Malaysian students on their way to a tea plantation was no exception. After the polite conversation in limited English (due to a distinct lack of Malaysian from my girlfriend and I), a singsong seemed like the next logical step to affirm the bonds of friendship.”

Leila Pinder meets Chinese refugees in Thailand “Seeing the ‘Long Necked Women’ in Northern Thailand was a really interesting look at foreign traditions. We were told by our guide that the women stretch their necks to protect themselves from tiger attacks; a process which is started at the age of four years old.

It is a belief that has stemmed back from the traditional life in China, where the people have had to flee due to conflict at the southern border. It almost seems like this is a case of tradition for tradition’s sake, but interesting nonetheless.”

TWENTY0NE

FOOD

Scream for ice cream Laura Rowe and Joanne Grew find plenty of new and exciting ways to liven up the cheapest of bargain-basement vanilla ice cream Mocha choca toffa sundae

Get three scoops of your favourite vanilla ice cream. Personally I like serving my ice cream slightly melted and squidgy, so if possible take the ice cream out of the freezer at least 10-15 minutes before you are ready to serve. Chop rough chunks of toffee and chocolate into varied sizes and sprinkle over the ice cream. Pour over a hot shot of espresso or a small hot, strong cup of instant coffee. Finish with some nibbed hazelnuts and a café swirl. Delicious - all the ingredients melt into each other and create the perfect treat.

Elderflower surprise

Pour elderflower cordial over three scoops. Simple, but for extra extravagance make an elderflower fritter. Grab an elderflower off the bush (be careful you are not just picking some random weeds – not only rather untasty but potentially fatal) – and make a simple batter with some ice-cold sparkling water and self-raising flour – dip the flower in the batter – stem facing up, shallow fry the flower end in some very hot (i.e. be very careful) oil until golden.

The contrast in heat and textures is divine.

light Strawberreylarde ge chunks of ice

Sweets galore

Relive your childhood dreams. Think of all the sweets you used to pester your parents for… Smarties, Fruit Pastilles, Revels, Maltesers, Mars Bars. Tempted yet? Pick out your favourites and add to three scoops of vanilla ice cream.

Yum.

Scoop out thre eropped-up strawb cream and add ch the strawberry n ries, not to mentio kle on a few tiny sauce, and sprin rfect for a marshmallows. Pe It’s easy to in. romantic night s of isticated in term make it look soph gain some brownso et presentation too, ed one. Don’t forg ie points with a lov getting your one of the added bonus o. fruit/veg a day to out of five fresh

Cinnamon Crunch

Three scoops of vanilla ice cream; cornflakes; cinnamon. Sounds freaky but no.

Sprinkle a tsp of cinnamon and a handful of cornflakes (crunchy nut if you are feeling frivolous) over the ice cream. The spice of the cinnamon and the texture of the cereal are strangely alluring.

You cheeky monkey

Get 3 scoops of (soft) vanilla ice cream. Add a chopped-up ripe banana, roughly-chopped pecans and roughly-chopped-up peanut butter cups. Simple but delicious

Chocolatebutton mountain A naughty but nice firm favourite. Drizzle melted chocolate over three scoops of vanilla ice cream with chocolate buttons (Cadburys are the best!).

Calories shmalories, simple but stunning.

TWENTYTWO

tty ger nu

, gin Mango ay Saturd

bos r y’s com Sainsbu ing his ver y s r’ e v li Jamie O addies. Tweak ing d us are the e: instead of la ice il m n e a th v r e u ic n p up yo y ripe diced to t, r u ctl yogh ger ith perfe hed gin cream w nd a few crus esco do T a mango mar vel that is e ginger e nuts (th lyumptious valu mar veldy idd scrumd like, 25p – bloo nuts for, lous!).

Very berr

You guesse y nice d cream again it, three scoops of van ill . and so scru A raspberr y coulis is so a ice mmy and b ri made any ti lliant and ca easy m n be fresh or fro e of the year. Use a h zen raspbe andful of rr ies, a tsp o sugar (do th f ic is juice of one to taste, it’s not exact ing lime. Blitz in ) and the mash in a b owl with a fo a food processor or combined. rk until com Ra p seeds whic spberries have lots of letely h are fine w ti ny he are not so good in a sa n gobbled whole but u sieve until ce, so if po you a have ssible a smooth a bright pink nd silky sauce. Pou r the desired of coulis; it am s sw colour really eet, sharp and fanta ount stic complemen t ice cream.

A few extra the cold, creamy berries of ch and choppe oice d pistachio s sp give some extra texture rinkled over a Summery a nd superb! nd interest.

FOOD@GAIRRHYDD.COM

GOING OUT

Life’s a beach

You don’t have to stray far from Cardiff to find some great beaches to relax on.

Amelia Thomas gives you a guide to some of the best

A

s the exam season leads towards overdrive, it is set to prove, as usual, catalytic for warm sunshine, signposting the fast approaching finale of student life at the same time. How then, are we expected to be so painfully studious in such circumstances? Simply, we are not. Of course, random raves are advised to remain in the bulky realm of the student calendar which doesn’t embrace exams. So, what better excuse to indulge in some last minute quality bonding with your ‘university homies’- at the beach.

Alas, Cardiff has no beach of its own.

Attached to this, however, is the chance to venture outside of the Capital. Unfortunately, Aberavon Beach is forever left out in the cold.

Thus, reaching the crucial point, Aberavon Beach is an underrated and undiscovered gem. With idyllic gardens, serene seating areas and a promenade perfect for potential Parisian posers, this budding seafront holiday hotspot lives up to a BBC review of Welsh beaches: “I’m really glad Wales is so much less touristy than Devon or Cornwall…

I don’t think people realise how beautiful the beaches are in Wales.”

Ironically, in the case of Aberavon, you can forget the beauty of the beach - at first - in exchange for unbeatable sightseeing on situating oneself near the Lifeguard Watchtower.

As cheesy as it may sound, these lifeguards truly come close to David Hasselhoff and the Baywatch gang. Many of them are British

GOINGOUT@GAIRRHYDD.COM

triathlon members, and they alone aid in attracting the annual Welsh Championship Competition to Aberavon’s shores.

Nonetheless, Aberavon cannot be taken at face value. Deeply impressive is the fact that abstract artistic interest has been given £187,000 of investment to make the plans of a Carmarthenshire Artist, Andy Rome, Seafront landmarks.

With the whole adventure costing under £15 for an average group of Cardiff students, including return train fare, ice-cream at Remo’s and chips from Franco’s, (Aberavon’s Italian catering chain), it’s the next best thing to a holiday together in sunny Spain.

“

As cheesy as it may sound, these lifeguards truly come close to David Hasselhoff and the Baywatch gang

Here are three more beaches near Cardiff to check out Llantwit Major In the middle of the Vale of Glamorgan lies the small coastal town of Llantwit Major (or, in Welsh, Llanilltud Fawr).

Llantwit Major has often been called the most beautiful of places. It is a quaint old town four and a half miles south-west of Cowbridge. It possesses a medieval town hall, the ruins of a manor house, and a historic church as well as the foundations of a Roman Villa.

RIGHT:: the rocky beach of Llantwit Major.

Ogmore-by-Sea Ogmore-by-Sea is a small village on the coast. There is a nearby castle, beautiful sandy beach and magnificent countryside nearby.

Horse riding and hiking are popular in this area. RIGHT: Looking down from the hills onto the beach.

Porthcawl Porthcawl is a leading holiday resort in southern Wales and has one of the largest caravan and camping parks in Europe. It has a long promenade and several beaches, two of which are Blue Flag beaches: a tourist-oriented beach at Trecco Bay, at the east end of the town; a sandy beach at Rest Bay, which lies to the northwest of the town; and the quiet and sandy Pink bay leading out towards Sker point. A tarmac-covered beach lies in front of the promenade. There is usually a funfair. Four rocky points line the shore: Hutchwns Point, Porthcawl Point, (on which a lighthouse is situated), Rhych Point and Newton Point.

LEFT: The bay at Porthcawl.

TWENTYTHREE

GAY

Out and about Looking to spend your pink pound outside of Cardiff this summer? Quench gives you a taste of what to expect from two other UK cities often getting an earful from Cardiffians if they show any form of public affection.

With such a diverse culture in the Manchester scene, perhaps the fundamental thing that frequenters have in common is sexual orientation. This places a strong emphasis on sex, giving a somewhat seedy atmosphere to the scene. In Cardiff, seediness is also rife, but to a much lesser extent.

Canal Street dwarfs the size of Cardiff’s Charles Street, providing far more choice for its gay punters. Cardiff may have swanky Pulse, but fails to offer more specific venues, such as Coyotes’ lesbian karaoke on Canal Street Chorlton Street and an Indie room in the gay night Poptastic in Manchester.

It could be argued that the relatively small hen my friend Sarah expressed an size of Cardiff compared to Manchester interest in studying at Manchester allows for a more intimate scene. Going to University, I was a very happy gay Exit on a Saturday night can be described as indeed. Dear Sazzel, you see, had opened a a chance to catch up with friends - as soon homosexual door for me, and behind this as you enter the doors, you will see at least door lay an entire unexplored kingdom, that half a dozen familiar faces. Some would think went by the name of Canal Street. this to be a rather claustrophobic atmosDuring the 1970s, social change saw an phere, as you can’t have a night out without evolving attitude towards the gay community seeing at least two of your exes in Cardiff. in Manchester and also a change within the Manchester provides a degree of anonymity community’s attitude itself. With growing condue to its magnitude; however, there still fidence, various pubs, clubs and eateries aimed at the homosexual community develop- seems to be as much inbreeding in these two gay communities despite the size difference. ing in the Canal Street A marked difference between the two area, ensuring that scenes, which I believe highlights a certain Manchester became unique charm about Cardiff, is that Cardiff is the largest gay vilneither aimed more at gay men or at gay lage in Europe. women, unlike Manchester which is predomiThe city of nately male-orientated. Several of my lesbian Manchester itself friends up in Manchester complain that they seems to be a lot barely have any gay male friends, as they are more open to its gay often shunned in clubs as the gays see lescommunity than bians as being little more than cigarette disCardiff, as every third pensers with the wrong genitalia. Cardiff couple you see walktakes a completely different approach to this ing down the matter, with many beautiful tales about a Manchester high street poof and his stoic lesbian fag hag by seems to be a genetihis side. cally-engineered pair of Overall, while homosexuals, with no Manchester is obviously the one even giving them a bigger player in terms of gay second glance. scenes in Britain, I stay very Unfortunately in Cardiff, loyal to my beloved Cardiff. Many we do not have this same Manchester Pride 2006 love to hate it, even more hate to luxury, with gay couples love it, but we can’t deny the strange appeal of the little street that lies between Burger King and M&S.

Manchester

W

Canal Street dwarfs the size of

Cardiff’s Charles Street, providing far more choice for its gay punters TWENTYFOUR

Birmingham Hurst Street

O

n arriving in Birmingham's city centre, the bizarre local dialect (not to be mistaken with a small mammal in agony) surrounds you from every corner and you start believing that you've entered another world rather than crossed the border.

Despite the irritating accent and chavtastic hooded gangs, Birmingham has an incredible nightlife - one that thankfully extends to its gay scene. The main concentration of gay bars and clubs lies on Hurst Street, a short walk from other venues popular with the breeders, such as Reflex and Oceana. Hurst Street definitely has a certain buzz about it, something that is arguably missing from Cardiff’s equivalent Charles Street. As you make your way past various bars and clubs that open out onto the street, there is a real sense of community.

Bars such as The Old Fox can easily be compared to Cardiff's Golden Cross and, if by any chance you begin to miss the likes of Pixie or, God forbid, Amber Dextrous, Glamorous Show Bar is the place to be for top cabaret shows. Birmingham's main gay venue is Nightingales or ‘The Gale’ as it is often referred to. Inside you are treated to three floors: downstairs caters for all your camp chart and house music cravings. The second floor is a lot more relaxed and even contains a restaurant (just in case you fancy beef bourguignon as a midnight snack). The third and final floor is the place to be for strobe lighting, hard house and sweaty pill heads.

One area that Cardiff trumps is… well… the people. Calvin Klein models the inhabitants of Birmingham are certainly not. And once you manage to shake off the dwarf who won’t take no for an answer, there’s always the desperate straight girls to contend with. This aside, Nightingale is host to various ‘high-profie’ acts every weekend such as Gina G and, more recently, Rogue Traders. Definitely not A-List performers but far better than Donna Marie every Sunday.

With accomodation in the city centre reasonably cheap, Birmingham is definitely worth a look. Despite a few let-downs, overall a gay night out in Birmingham really won’t disappoint.

GAY@GAIRRHYDD.COM

REVIEWS IN REVIEWS THIS WEEK

" Digital’s looking in !"Chicago in Arts !"Music look East !" very random places in cyber-space !"Books go to Hay-On-Wye " Film are a bit annoyed !" " !"

Photos by James Perou

w Reviehe Of T k Wee

S O G I M A S O L ¡ !

S E R A L U C ESPECTA Monday June 4th

L

The Point

Los Campesinos!

os Campesinos! have come a long way from their initial appearance as brightly coloured indie Power Rangers at Fun Factory just over a year ago. Some things, however, are still as solid as that sweaty night just over a year ago; unbrideled passion, a certain wonk in each note of their pop and the individual power of each member. Welcome to the next epoch, Campesinos! style.

From opener International TweeXcore Underground, everything about this gig, this set and the band itself is instantly fuller, faster and packs a less girly punch, much like a body builder on a diet of pink protein shakes and chicken. It is brought forth with enough confidence from each member to equal the sum of the bands prevoius parts.

Gareth Campesinos! himself has turned from meek and occasional guest of the stage to master of the ring, as he saunters over to Neil’s microphone and shares spit. Odd moments of embarrassment mixed with sly cheeky smiles to friends are happy reminders that tonight's audience is full of contemporaries and idols alike. Yet these are now outnumbered 10 times by fans, and it still remains as much a pleasure for them as it is for us.

From there, they turn intense reflection into the ultimate party in a way only LC! know how as Broken Heartbeats Sound Like Breakbeats cracks into place, closely followed by Don't Tell Me To Do The Math(s), a perfect introduction to each element of a Los Campesinos! live show. It showcases Gareth's penchant for grimey white boy rap, QUENCH@GAIRRHYDD.COM

juxtaposed with Aleks lilted, saccharine vocals, circled around with Neil’s driving guitar hook and Tom's consistently amazing fret-wandering. All glued into place

by Ellen’s beat-happening bass line, Ollie’s gymnastic style of drumming and Harriet’s illumination of the more subtle moments.

Sliding neatly from note to note without ever losing a single ounce of charm.

An eruption of collective singing occurs as Gareth spits out the line “If you shout it all back at me...” from debut single We Throw Parties You Throw Knives and instantly the room is set alight with liquid elation. Gareth and Aleks swap places for Drop It Doe Eyes, which perfectly captures the still shambolic but increasingly well-organised nature of the chaos they now command. Mid-way through the set, Knee Deep at ATP iluminates the more serene and occasionally deeper shades to the septet’s newly embelished live show, pin-pointing the most developed part of their growth. These shades of grey offset the already vibrant colours which have been built upon from shows gone by. Turning a short punk-ass set of hyperactive non-stop party pop into an increasingly sophisticated spectrum of Glock’n’Roll, hinting further to the already exisitng darker undertones of their often misunderstood upbeat numbers.

They launch straight from Gareth’s tantrum-esque writhing delivery of ...And We Exhale and Roll Our Eyes In Unison into most recent single You! Me! Dancing!, grounded in the post-rock roots, the pitter- patter of the bands first steps and perception of Cardiff itself, all the way down to fountain frolics. Its introduction, drapped in intense smoke,

A world conquering zest-tastic band of indie Power Rangers building up to deliver what will almost certainly become this years sun-soaked summer anthem. Lighting the touch paper threaded amongst the feet of thronging masses below, fulfiling its prophecy to wear out dancing shoes from the damp streets of Twisted

By Design, to here and beyond.

There is no doubt that this gig marks a transition from a student band with a quirky demeanour (y’know, the one that your mate knows) to a fully fledged, world conquering zest-tastic band of indie Power Rangers.

Their previously immovable, wide-eyed innocent beams have been replaced by dazzling, toothy smiles. A dizzy height that anyone who has been fortunate enough to bask in the glow of their electrifying musical rapture before would have felt bubbling up inside them way before now, as they coax out an inexplicable joy from within one’s soul.

Sofie Jenkinson TWENTYFIVE

QUENCH IN PICTURES (FOR YOUS WHO CAN’T READ SO GOO

FROM RIGHT TO LEFT: Graham Coxon, being interviewed by Quench at the C the New Young Pony Club live in Cardiff Students’ Union (Jameson Kergozou Union (James Perou); The Rumble Strips live at Cardiff Barfly (Ed Salter); Pix (James Perou); Gallows live at Cardiff Barfly (Rob Taylor); Alan B’Stard canva Mark Thomas at The Sherman Theatre (James Perou)

ARE YOU A BUDDING PHOTO-JOURNALIST? Then why not join our award-winning photography team next year? Contact us at photography@gairrhydd.com

OD)

Coal Exchange (James Perou); Andy Spence of the New Young Pony Club (James Perou); Tahita of ); The View live at Cardiff Students’ Union (Ed Salter); Amy Winehouse live at Cardiff Students’ xie of Minskys being interviewed by Quench Gay (Matt Horwood); Jen Long DJing at Buffalo Bar asing Cardiff residents (James Perou); Zane Lowe DJs at Cardiff Students’ Union (James Perou);

ARTS

The female of the species WOMEN BEWARE WOMEN Sherman Theatre May 25 - June 2

not for the faint-hearted

W

CHICAGO

New Theatre May 21 - June 2 girls’ night out

C

hicago is one of the sassiest and most stylish musicals on stage, and razzledazzle the audience from beginning to

end.

Set in the 1920s twilight world of Chicago, the plot revolves around showgirl Roxie Hart and her attempts to disentangle herself from an inconvenient murder charge that’s getting in the way of her career. In jail, she battles with Velma Kelly for freedom, headlines and the attention of legal eagle Billy Flynn. This explosive story, coloured with sizzling dances and robust songs, is staged powerfully and with propulsive energy.

Haley Flaherty was sensational as Roxie Hart and gave a performance that goes beyond the character’s obvious comic poten-

Review TONY ROBINSON’S CUNNING NIGHT OUT

June 7 @ Sherman Theatre TWENTYEIGHT

tial. Her rendition of ‘Roxie’ was sassy and fantastic. George Asprey was equally superb as Billy Flynn and he oozed the character’s charisma and synthetic sincerity well. Dawn Spence was also fantastic as Velma, dancing up a storm and belting out her numbers in a voice of molten steel while Dale Meeks’ Amos was touching and funny.

The strength of the show was in the dancing. Gary Chryst’s choreography was sharp, sexy and thrilling. The dancing ensemble had killer combination, sass and boundless energy. Their costumes were dazzling and the props were used effectively, adding to the show’s flamboyancy. The orchestra were also magnificent, their enthusiastic playing adding an extra sparkle to John Kander and Fred Ebb’s musical score.

Chicago should be seen by anyone who loves musicals, theatre or just a great night out. It is funny and invigorating, full of lusty charm, jazz, and sizzling choreography. A wonderful production.

Rebecca Child Using his most famous character as a reference point, Tony Robinson presents an amusing, revisionist view of history that champions the little guy.

Neatly comparing Baldrick's downtrodden experience to that of his own father, an intelligent man excluded from further education by his class, this is a passionate socialist polemic made palatable by Robinson's droll

hen the picture board warns you, as you walk in, that there will be gunshots and scenes of a sexual and disturbing nature, you know you’re in for one hell of a show. This was a polished and skilled performance by members of the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama, which compensated for the often-confusing plot line.

Rape, incest, bondage, adultery, insanity and murder: this play really did have it all. It managed to pull off the scandal and brutality through credible acting and Thomas Middleton’s eloquent script. Guardiano (Thomas Brownlee), who instigates the rape of Bianca by the duke, was particularly disturbing. Think of the gay, bald-headed guy off Catherine Tate whose catchphrase is, “How very dare you”, and add more menace. The ward (Daniel Parker), an insane man with rolling eyes and wandering hands, was sometimes a little too convincing.

Livia (Sara Wyn George) was the real bad girl of the show, killing her niece and working her way through four of the male characters, although she concealed her malice through a noble and respectful exterior.

Middleton’s script evoked a violent and bewildering world where the cardinal is a corrupt murderer, the duke is a rapist and ‘Sordido’ couldn’t be a more appropriate name. As the innocent Isabella (Sama Goldie) laments: “What happens when truth and love are things we cannot trust? What happens when blood that should be love is mixed with lust?”

Women Beware Women was nothing if not memorable, and definitely worth a look.

Tasha Prest-Smith

delivery. Through Agincourt and the Somme, to his own experiences as a skiving schoolboy, via Blackadder and the archaeology show, Time Team, Robinson brings home the message that your ancestors suffered in ways you can scarcely imagine.

ARTS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

ARTS Cardiff has plenty to offer the cash-strapped student seeking a bit of culture over the summer, as Kim O’Connor finds out...

Everyman Open Air Theatre Festival 2007 July 11 - August 4 @ St Fagans National History Museum One of the real treats of the summer is the open air productions put on by the Everyman theatre company in St Fagans. You can combine two cultural goodies in one here: take a stroll around the village that recreates the Wales of the past, complete with ‘living history’ houses and shops, and enjoy the unique chance to experience open air theatre. This year, Everyman are performing a variety of shows that are bound to suit every taste, so there’s no excuse to miss out.

Photomarathon 2007 Event: Saturday 16 June, and Exhibition: July 7 - August 5 @ Cardiff’s Old Library Perfect for snap-happy students, Photomarathon challenges you to push your creativity and spontaneity to produce original, eye-catching shots. It’s a photography competition with a twist: every entrant receives a 12 picture film and over 12 hours you have to take pic-

Welsh Artist of the Year 2007 Exhibition June 4 - August 10 @ St David’s Hall This multi-media art show displays some of the best established and emerging artistic talent Wales has to offer. Judges have selected around 110 contemporary works from almost 500 entrants to make up the exhibition in St David’s Hall. Now in its seventh year, the exhibition boasts paintings, drawings, sculpture, photography, ceramics and video art.

FREE: Entry. For further information call 029 2087 8500 or visit the website: www.stdavidshallcardiff.co.uk

ARTS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

For musical fans, The Mikado promises to be a colourful spectacular that captures the humour and warmth of Gilbert and Sullivan’s original. A Midsummer Night’s Dream offers a chance to enjoy one of Shakespeare’s most accessible plays and, for those who want to indulge their inner child, The Adventures of Robin Hood should work a treat.

FREE: Entry to St Fagans is free. The

Everyman shows are priced from £6, but the company needs volunteers for: set construction, front of house and stage management. If you’re interested in helping out, visit the website: www.everymanfestival.co.uk

tures on 12 given topics. The winners receive snazzy prizes and many entries are shown in the exhibition that follows in Cardiff’s Old Library. If you don’t take part in the competition itself, the exhibition is definitely worth a look to see how the 12 topics have been interpreted so differently by the entrants.

FREE: Entry to the Photomarathon

competition costs £15, and the closing date is 8 June. The exhibition is completely free. For further information see the website: www.photomarathon.co.uk

Jerwood Drawing Prize June 13 - July 20 @ BayArt Gallery, Cardiff Bay For the first time, the Jerwood Drawing Prize will be exhibited in Wales. The competition is open to artists across Britain and demonstrates the vitality and variability of contemporary drawing. In 2006, over 2,647 drawings were submitted, from which 78 were finally selected. The quality of the exhibited work is always of the highest order, and explains why the competition is such an interesting and popular event.

Chapter Gallery June - September @ Chapter Arts Centre Chapter Gallery hosts a series of fascinating exhibitions this summer. Tessa Farmer’s ‘Infestation’ runs from June 16 to July 29 and is probably not one for the squeamish. Prepare for close-ups of flying insects, creepy crawlies and ‘roadkill’. This actually sounds hideous, but it’s worth a look for how bizarre the whole concept is – apparently all these gross dead things are ‘fairies’. Indeed.

Slightly less odd is ‘Draw me a Castle’, which runs from July 7 to August 19, and is the first solo exhibition of Pat Flynn’s work. This features a series of films, photographs and sculpture that explore modern landscapes, historical architecture and fiction. Finally, a showcase of Michael Roberts’ work runs from August 4 to September 16. Roberts’ paintings explore the effects of light, both natural and artificial, on the human face. The resulting art is captivating for its detail and striking similarity to real life.

FREE: All exhibitions are free. For further information visit the website: www.chapter.org

FREE: Entry. For further information email: bayart@tiscali.co.uk TWENTYNINE

FILM SPOTLIGHT: (Satoshi

Kon,

Paprika 2006)

SPEED SWANK Hilary Swank is to embark upon a run around the world for charity. The enviable venture is to acknowledge the people throughout the world with no access to clean drinking water.

Swank will join 19 other runners on the Blue Planet run, which will take place over 95 days, with runners proceeding ten miles at a time, over the 15, 250 miles.

The run will take place over 16 countries, out of reverence for the 1.1 billion unfortunate enough to be suffering under such adverse conditions.

Swank has claimed, in typically Oscar-worthy fashion, that “the real heroes are the 20 people who are actually running... and putting their lives on hold for the 95 days."

THIRTY

F I L M

HEATH LEDGER’S CLOWN PRINCE OF CRIME This is the first official photo of Heath Ledger in his newest role as the Joker.

The photo gives a fair indication of the dark direction that director Christopher Nolan plans to take in the upcoming The Dark Knight, due for tentative UK release next July.

The Dark Knight (which is the first Batman film not to feature the name Batman in the title) will follow the beginnings of the Joker, reprised for the Nolan-Bale era universe. It will also chart the rise of altruistic District Attorney Harvey Dent (played by Aaron Eckhart). Other new cast additions will include indie stalwart Maggie Gyllenhaal, who replaces Cruise lovespawn Katie Holmes in her role as Rachel Dawes.

This news excites amid a summer 2007 so far stained by relative blockbuster disappointment so far.

N E W S

IS PERSEPOLIS ISLAMOPHOBIC? Marjane Satrapi’s black and white satirical animation Persepolis has drawn controversy after winning the top prize at the Cannes film festival.

The low-budget feature follows a young girl’s experiences following the overthrow of the Shah by Islamic fundamentalists and was lauded by the Cannes jury.

However, critics of the film, such as Medhi Halhor (an advisor to the Iranian president on cinematic affairs), claim that the film paints an “unrealistic picture of the achievements and results of the glorious Islamic Revolution… Islamophobia in Western drama started in France, and producing and highlighting the anti-Iranian film Persepolis in Cannes falls in line with Islamopohobia.”

FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM

FILM PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: AT WORLD’S END Dir: Gore Verbinski Starring: Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley, Bill Nighy, Geoffrey Rush Out Now, 3 fucking hours (no stars... not even one)

Hell hath no fury like a film editor scorned.

Jaded, disappointed and heartbroken, film Si vents his rage at being let down by one film franchise too many.

T

his time last month, given the opportunity, I would have been the first to admit my near unconditional love for the Pirates franchise. Come to think of it I can honestly say that, since its release last year, I’ve spent a massive amount of hours defending Dead Man’s Chest from its critics, despite its obvious flaws.

You see, for me the first two Pirates films had a simple appeal to them, that despite their utter trashiness, pretty much devoid of artistic or intellectual content, they were unashamedly fun. The release of the first film, Curse of the Black Pearl really stood out as a turning point in family cinema, managing the perfect balance between an exciting plot, well-developed characters, comedy, action and even the odd sneaky bit of innuendo for the grown-ups. Set against the context of Hollywood’s desire to churn out reams of fantasy epics, comic book spin offs and reworkings of old cop shows, here was a series of films which revived the tradition of the classic family romp, the likes of which had barely been seen since the days of The Goonies, Indiana Jones or Back to the Future.

Yet with this, the third in the Pirates trilogy, the franchise takes a nose-dive the likes of which haven’t been seen since the awful Matrix sequels of 2003. What we’re left with is a prime example of what can go wrong when an over-ambitious set of writers are given a completely free reign and a director with a near limitless budget.

It’s said that an infinite number of monkeys left on an infinite number of typewriters would eventually replicate the entire works of Shakespeare. Well, based on that logic, three monkeys with a pack of crayons could probably churn out the script for At World’s End in under twenty minutes.

One of the problems of which Dead Man’s Chest was accused (to some extent correctly) was that of it being slightly long and too complicated. Admittedly it is fair to say that the film did add a fair chunk of new characters and extra twists into the mythology of the Pirates universe, yet at all times this felt as if it were building towards a conclusion that would appear in the final film of the trilogy.

Yet, with At World’s End rather than producing a film in which the cliff hangers, plot twists and ambigious allegiances of the second film come together to provide a coherent ending to the saga and to give much needed closure to the trilogy, writers Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio along with director FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM

“

“This time around Depp’s character becomes relatively sidelined; reduced to fighting for screen time among the massive ensemble of needless characters”

SPARROW: Addled

Gore Verbinski seem to have opted to try and throw in as many new plot twists, characters and extra slabs of piratey folklore as possible. The result is a film which is so over-long, needlessly complicated and mindnumbingly incoherent that it is veers into the realm of being entirely unwatchable.

It’s as if the aforementioned film-makers are completely oblivious to what it is that made the first two films so good. It has always been clear to anyone who watched even ten minutes of either of the first Pirates films that the key element in the formula has been the brilliantly quirky performance of Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow.

Yet the Disney team seem to be entirely unaware of this fact. This time around Depp’s character becomes relatively sidelined; reduced to fighting for screen time among the massive ensemble of needless characters we’ve been introduced to throught the run of the trilogy. Captain Jack ends up having little effect or importance in the conclusion of the story at all.

And the new characters we’re introduced to do little to excite. Chow-Yun Fat makes an appearance as a pirate lord and is an utter non-character; entirely one dimensional and merely annoying if anything.

I do, however, find it difficult to get to the bottom of what it is that really irritates me so much about this film. I can cope with a movie being long and complicated as long as it’s still entertaining, and as I’ll freely admit, there was a lot wrong with Dead Man’s Chest that I was willing to overlook merely out of a love for the characters.

Maybe then, the reason I left the cinema overwhelmed with a feeling of genuine disappointment at what had become of the Pirates universe is down to the fact that I simply care about the characters more than the film-makers do.

There’s so much left unanswered by the third film; the mysteries of Captain Jack’s past and the histories of other characters remain disappointingly unexplored.

Furthermore, too many occurences between the second and third films, such as Geoffrey Rush’s return from the dead and the death of the Kraken, are merely glossed over, neither given more than a single line of dialogue as way of explanation.

The bottom line is it doesn’t have the feel of the first two films. True enough, the odd scene, such as Jack arguing with his own subconcious in the land of the dead, look brilliantly surreal, but it’s far too late in the game to be making stylistic changes and the result is a film that looks as if it’s pieced together from a scrapbook of ideas.

To some extent Gore Verbinski’s directionless directing seems more understandable when you realise that they started shooting the film before the script was even finished.

He attempts to make an epic but the result is just a mess.

Keira Knightley can’t act, Orlando Bloom is unbearable and one character grows to become 100-foot tall and then turns into crabs. Devastating.

Si Truss THIRTYONE

FILM BLACK SNAKE MOAN Dir: Craig Brewer Starring: Samuel L. Jackson, Christina Ricci, Justin Timberlake Out Now, 115 mins

N

ow, in case you’re wondering, yes this is the film where Lazarus (Jackson), a past middle-aged black man, keeps Rae (Ricci), a young, extremely sexy white girl, chained to his radiator in order to rid her of her nymphomaniac ways.

Now after just typing that I will admit it does seem both a stupid premise for a film and just a tad exploitative. However, there is so much more to this movie than the basic summary.

Going on the marketing alone, Paramount would have you believe you are about to witness a ridiculously, or fabulously (depending on opinion) explicit sexual romp of a film.

However, while Ricci does spend the majority of the running time in just a pair of pristine white cotton panties it never quite plummets to the depths into pure titillation.

Much of this is down to the performance of Ricci. She wonderfully plays what must have been a daunting character, one that, left to a lesser actor, could have given the film a completely different feel. Ricci is at ease with the raunchiness and adolescent playfulness of the role and, is equally adept during moments of touching emotion.

The central relationship of Lazarus and Rae is bizarre to say the least, but also completely moving and somehow believable.

While Jackson has at his disposal a horribly stereotyped, racist, caricature, the warmth, tenderness and downright fury he injects into Lazarus is wonderful to watch. Equally as compelling as the central performances is the use of music as a core theme of the film, specifically southern blues-rock. Such is its importance to the film that it does, at times, begin to visually resemble an overstylised music video. Yet it supplies the action with such a bombastic score that it would seem empty without it. It affords otherwise dense scenes a resonance that occasionally outweighs the narrative. In fact, hell I’ll say it: this film is worth seeing just because the soundtrack is so damn brilliant.

Black Snake Moan is an audacious choice of film for director Craig Brewer as his follow-up to the critically acclaimed Hustle and Flow. In fact it’s a brave choice of film for all involved, not least its stars Jackson and Ricci, but also Justin Timberlake who gives an assured performance in one of his early screen outings. However, the gamble is worth it on all accounts because the result is a fine film that is a reward for the level of bravery displayed by its creators. You will find yourself surprisingly shocked and ultimately touched by a story with unsettling, genuine heart.

Ashley James

THIRTYTWO

RICCI: Saucy ZODIAC Dir: David Fincher Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr Out Now, 158 mins

W

hen basing a film on a 40-year-old unsolved murder spree, it’s obvious that a great deal of the proceedings will deal with personal opinion rather than actual fact. However, there are some glaring stone-cold facts that shine through the murky hue of Zodiac. Most importantly it reinforces the fact that David Fincher is quite simply one of the greatest directors working today.

Nobody does menace quite like him; the anarchic chaos of Fight Club, the pitch-black intrigue of cruelly overlooked third effort The Game, and the pure evil and controlled hatred contained within Se7en, are all delivered with the ever-present sinister, unsettling tone which could be considered the ‘calling card’ of Fincher’s work.

Thankfully Zodiac is no different. The violence is handled in such a calm, nonchalant manner that every gunshot, every stab of the knife punctuates the already harrowing scenes with an added element of brutality that resonates deep within the viewer.

However, there is more to Fincher than the distinctive tone of his work: technically he is virtually unrivalled and, while it could be said that Zodiac is his simplest film to date, it is wonderfully shot. While most of the admittedly dialogue-heavy running time is shot with nothing more than a professional ease, the way Fincher links scenes together is something else.

These are the moments when the director truly comes to life, allowing himself passages of indulgence, but crucially without

upsetting the flow of the narrative. Fincher is truly a master of these transitional shots; the opening shot, which follows the Zodiac’s first letter through the office of the San Francisco Chronicle on a mail cart before landing on the editor’s desk, is impressive.

Better still is an overhead tracking shot that perfectly follows a taxi through the grid system of downtown San Francisco, mirroring its every turn in a dazzlingly fluid scene.

Another core reason for the success of all of Fincher’s films is rooted in the continually near-perfect casting of his projects, and through Downey Jr, Gyllenhaal and Ruffalo, Zodiac has just that.

Essentially the film is split into three acts, each of which is dominated by a different character’s pursuit of the killer and each of which contains a fantastic performance from the male leads. If Fincher is the greatest, most under-appreciated director around then Robert Downey Jr is his thespian equivalent. Unsurprisingly he shines as an eccentric yet charming alcoholic, which is basically Robert Downey Jr playing himself: the much troubled Robert Downey Jr of a few years ago.

Add to this a great turn from Gyllenhaal, that overflows with a childlike vulnerability that only he can deliver, plus a consistently brilliant performance from Ruffalo, and what you’ve got is an extremely accomplished, at times spectacular, acting master-class.

Similar to Helter Skelter, the book which deals with the Charles Manson murders, Zodiac is a revealing and startling identification of the problems that existed through police forces not co-operating with each other.

It highlights Fincher’s undeniable talent for telling complex stories and equally his cast’s ability to sell them so well; as such Zodiac is an enthralling piece of film-making that never fails to captivate despite a lack of action in the final third.

Ashley James

FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM

FILM

MAGICIANS: Cheeky GOYA’S GHOSTS

MAGICIANS

Dir: Milos Forman Starring: Javier Bardem, Stellan Skarsgard, Natalie Portman

Dir: Andrew O’ Connor Starring: David Mitchell, Robert Webb, Jesica Stevenson Out Now, 90 mins

Out Now, 114 mins

O

pening in 1792, Goya's Ghosts covers some of the most turbulent years in Spanish history, including the dreaded torture methods of the Spanish Inquisition, Napoleon's violent imposition of liberty, equality and fraternity, and invasion by the English. Nobody has a good time. At all.

Especially Natalie Portman. If you thought she had a rough ride in Closer, think again. In Goya's Ghosts she is tortured, raped, goes insane, has her baby taken from her, her family is killed, and, to say the least, she loses her looks somewhat.

Forman's film is a magnificently majestic portrayal of the destruction of the individual at the hands of the hubris and ambition - and idiocy - of several different ideologies as they rise and fall, invade and are invaded.

Javier Bardem, armed with a voice like a Mediterranean Barry White, gives a fantastic performance as Lorenzo, first an avid priest, then, as the film cuts forward 15 years to the French invasion, an avid Bonapartist, and Portman and Skarsgard are equally impressive as a beautiful innocent decimated by fate and the great artist Goya himself.

In a film replete with wonderful moments, both aesthetically and at the level of dialogue and plot, a personal high point was a twominute montage showing, in meticulous detail, the process by which Goya's etchings are made. And Forman's ending tableaux, involving all three of the main characters one dead, one deaf, one mad - is perhaps the most beautifully realised and moving climax to a film in recent times.

Dark humour speckles the torture and terror, but the only real moment of light relief comes in the form of a cameo from the guy who used to play the baddie in Power Rangers (he's the bloke on horseback who shoots the priest). Sod the four stars and the waxing lyrical, I know you're going to go see it now.

Ed Vanstone FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM

A

fter an unfortunate accident involving an adulterous wife and a guillotine, two magicians part ways. Months later, they meet up in an attempt to win £20,000 in a magic competition.

Mitchell and Webb trundle through watered down versions of their Peep Show characters in a film not quite good enough for us to forgive them for those Mac adverts.

Half the fun of watching British comedies like these is spotting the hordes of our sitcoms' finest, who populate almost every minor role. Here, Peter Capaldi is a particular delight as a caustic judge at the magic competition, and O'Connor's movie is full of those, 'Ooh, it's him from [insert loved sitcom here]' moments, which offer up tiny tin gles of pleasure. It's like seeing an old friend at the zoo - or something.

Aside from actor spotting, however, it's pretty slim-pickings. There are some great laugh-out-loud moments, almost all too filthy to repeat in even a student publication, but they are strung together with a plot as transparent as Webb's character's psychic abilities. It's all a bit slow, and the viewer can't help wishing that the inner monologue of Peep Show would break in and offer up the nuggets of wisdom of Mark and Jeremy to liven things up a bit.

That said, any film in which a character faced with two magicians' awkward reunion mutters, 'I have achieved wood' is worth a few of your pounds in my book, and although O'Connor's direction displays the same lack of imagination as the plot, the quality of the widely spaced gags is enough to keep interest alive.

Fans of Mitchell and Webb should not be disappointed, though Magicians is further confirmation - if any were needed - that both face being typecast to Matthew Perry-like proportions for a very, very long time.

Ed Vanstone

GOYA: Dark

THIRTYTHREE

FILM dvds

new release JOY DIVISION Out Now his film has nothing to do with the Mancunian art-rockers, nor should it be confused with upcoming Ian Curtis biopic, Control.

It is the chronicle of a German youth raised in the wartime era of ‘strength through joy’, who’s captured by the Soviets and later serves as a KGB spy in ’60s London, where the freedoms he experiences teach him the meaning of happiness for the first time. Clearly this time-skipping screenplay is not short on ambition. Unfortunately, despite umbrella guns, counter-conspiracies and a perky Michelle Gayle, the ’60s scenes aren’t as forceful as the flashbacks to the Eastern Front, with tanks, crowds and firefights. The final result is tedious and as painfully long as a Linda Barker appearance in another advert with yet another banal catchphrase.

Sophie Robehmed

T tv boxset

CSI: LAS VEGAS (SEASON 6) Released June 4 SI is quite probably the best detective drama series ever: Poirot? Morse? Frost? Pah!

C

Once you experience Gil Grissom and his team of forensic geniuses you will be able to solve all crimes, ever! It’s all here: technology, car chases, guns and gore. The lacking of humour may be the only downfall.

Benjamin Lepley

METROPOLIS: Hitler’s favourite

re-release LE SILENCE DE LA MER (MASTERS OF CINEMA) Released June 25 ean Michel Jarre is a fraud. Jean-Pierre Melville is not. Le Silence De La Mer is an intimate piece on the horrors of World War II, making use of dark, claustrophobic sets and bottom-lit close-ups all with a methodical pacing, signalling a distinct departure from the Hollywood fare of the day.

He is a major influence on several directors. His legacy is measured not only by quality but also by the respect of his colleagues.

Jean-Pierre Melville's contribution to cinema surely ranks with the greatest.

Ryan Owen

J

new release HANNIBAL RISING Released June 25 o here is the prequel of a prequel that is both a remake and an original film in its own right. Surely something this convoluted shouldn’t have been aimed at such apathetic Friday night audiences. How delightful retrospect is.

A story of how Hannibal became Hannibal is one that should delve into one of the most complex characters of all time, rather than what we have here, which is a concept that can’t escape its beermat origins. Furthermore, the exploration of Hannibal’s character is done in such a shallow follow-the-numbers manner, it starts to generate anger, and finally psychosis. Now, if Thomas Harris could have scribed that, he’d have developed what is known as character motivation. Nazi soldiers ate my sister indeed.

Ryan Owen

S

new release NOTES ON A SCANDAL Released June 4 heba Hart, (Cate Blanchett), a new art teacher at the local school who is trying to alter her life, which she neither enjoys or desired.

The story is narrated by Barbara, (Judi Dench), a cynical, selfconfessed battle-axe and history teacher, as she writes in her diary. The main plot is Sheba’s affair with a pupil. However, the film deals with so much more than the cheek/charm of a 15 yearold Irish lad. It gives insight into the lonely, unfulfilled lives of its main characters and how repression can induce misplaced passion and release. Initially, Barbara comes to Sheba’s rescue and then promptly falls for her, (yes the film is really about an old, gay lady). Barbara hopes to ‘secure the prize’, (Sheba), by becoming her confidant and friend. The situation blows up after Barbara’s cat dies, (a trying time I know), and her love turns to loathing once rejected by Sheba. The rest is pretty predictable as you can imagine.

It is an entertaining film, which left me thinking I should spend more time with my grandma and that it’s been a long time since I’ve heard Cate Blanchett’s real voice.

Ali Quas-Cohen

S new release LITTLE RED FLOWERS Out Now his is based on the semi-autobiographical novel Could be Beautiful by Wang Shuo, the best-selling bad boy of contemporary Chinese literature.

Little Red Flowers is a poignant and touching drama about a young boy making a little revolt of his own against his teachers.

The interaction between the children is always authentic, connecting you to the child’s perspective. The purposeful pacing allows for reflection upon the heart-warming interaction between the children as they go their own way. This is a carefully structured exploration of individuality and community.

Ryan Owen

T

THIRTYFOUR

FILM@GAIRRHYDD.COM

MUSIC

The Band Wagon

So long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen. Goodbye...

Thought of the week...

For those of you who are true disciples of the riff, a night of good heavy grooves is as elusive as a Nobel Prize-winning crack whore.

But Tuesdays at Clwb Ifor Bach offers something a little different from the endless flow of turgid indie music that usually fills ‘alternative nights’ like mustard gas in a septic trench.

“It’s hard-hitting, abrasive, it’ll kick you in the balls or pussy. And it’ll make you think real hard about who you are,” ponders local roadie Reuman Frijj.

Dangerous self-reflection Pt. 2

A

fter a very detailed slagging off of the Kaiser Chiefs’ television appearances in last week’s Thought of the Week, I thought it was only right to do a follow-up after seeing them strut their blasé things in person.

After being lucky enough to attend a recording of Later with Jools Holland (!) and eating a giant cheese twist in the cafe part, I can now say I’ve seen Ricky Wilson’s beady little eyes up close and personal and can tell you that they are as hollow and as creepy as I thought.

However, I would like to make a slight amendment to the harsh berating I gave them last week, but only very slight.

Personal preference aside they are undoubtedly an accomplished popsong producing machine and do, at times, persuade even the most stubborn of feet to tap. So maybe they’re not quite as repugnant as I first thought. Although having said that, their fairly impressive performance in the studio seemed to lose something in transit and once again became a casualty of Wilson’s sweaty eyes, riddled with intoxication.

In other news there is much anger flying around the country at the moment in relation to Glastonbury tickets, or lack thereof.

With just over a couple of weeks until, arguably, the best festival in the world kicks off, it has come to my attention that the last date for returning tickets was May 5.

This deadline passing so early will see thousands upon thousands of people crying into their warm beds as us lucky ones hitch up our jeans and run off into Somerset’s finest fields. Sofie Jenkinson

NEWS IN BRIEF:

Spencer McGarry, one of Cardiff’s hottest bands played Brighton’s Great Escape Festival at the end of last month along with a whole host of other new music gems. Just how long will it be before they conquer the world? Los Campesinos! most recent single You! Me! Dancing!, released last week, was more pre-ordered than Bloc Party’s The Prayer. With appearances at Glastonbury, Lollapalooza and in New York, it’s all happening for our local heros. Future of The Left are adorning the front cover of national magazine Art Rocker this month. MTV Unplugged will be returning to our television boxes this summer. After a long time off the air, the classic acoustic set-up will return with a performance from Bon Jovi, of all people, on June 22. Damon Albarn’s new opera Monkey: Journey To The West will arrive in Manchester aboard a train specially pimped out by artist and Gorillaz collaberator James Hewlett. The opera will open on June 28.

MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM

Check out Planet Rock’s top five tracks: 1. Tool - Stinkfist 2. Kyuss - Thumb 3. Down - Stone the Crow 4. Monster Magnet - Powertrip 5. Pantera - Five Minutes Alone

SPOTTED! Quench aren’t the only ones with love for Spillers Records...

ABOVE: BOMHEADS JACKET BASS PLAYER JONO ABOVE RIGHT: JAMIE T AT THE NME AWARDS RIGHT: BILL AND BEN THE FLOWER POT MEN

QUENCH LOVES LOCAL STOPMOTION MEN Barfly May 23

T

he StopMotion Men are a three-piece act who combine film making and music to produce an intense but incredibly involving set without pretension.

They use driving piano (please note, not like Keane), punchy distorted guitar and aggressive drums to produce a repertoire of wellcrafted songs, their lyrics being offset by ani-

mated and self-made films screened on a projector behind them.

The films deal with various grievances from self-produced movies about media-induced moral panics, (Fake Your Death explores the increasing onslaught of loan adverts and its effect) to anime clips (Spit and Chew) edited together to fit perfectly in time with the crashing of the drums or piano chord changes.

They recently came first in this year’s LMS Battle of the Bands, winning a spot performing at the Summer Ball, and the reasons why are evident tonight. They produce an electric performance executed with intense passion think of The Dresden Dolls at their darkest moments collaborating with Danny Elfman on a new Tim Burton film and you have the StopMotion Men. Matt Hutchinson THIRTYFIVE

MUSIC CANDI PAYNE I Wish I Could Have Loved You More

Painful Vs. Soothing

W

A

fter the resounding success of debut platinum album, The Back Room, this four man band famed for their gloominess are back with their highly anticipated second offering.

Yet unlike the claustrophobic menace and icy grandeur of the first album, An End Has A Start sees frontman Tom Smith focus more heavily on the power of redemption and the human necessity for friendship in the face of death. Indeed, Smith sings that we should “Keep a light on those you love / They will be there when you die” in suitably titled The Weight Of The World.

The band’s desire to experiment and stretch themselves on this album is made obvious having roped in friends alongside band members to create the choir at the close of jittery first single Smokers Outside The Hospital Doors which is reminiscent of an Arcade Fire sound, but not necessarily the best song.

Bones is an indie-disco number guaranteed to get your hips shaking, while Escape The Nest is an anthem along the lines of debut single, Bullets. The poignant Well Worn Hand that concludes the album sums up this album’s ability to evoke much more in the listener than the gritty issues that it is already dealing with.

8/10 Sophie Robehmed

QUENCH GOES TO THE MOVIES...

Monster

THIRTYSIX

W

ith comparisons to bands such as the Flaming Lips, Broken Social Scene and The Beach Boys, I was expecting something very special indeed from these country bumpkins.

Worlds away from the bitter twisted fakery of so much modern pop, Annuals are refreshing in the way, you could imagine them honestly saying, “its all about the songs dude.”

And you know what, they’d be exactly right.

The delicate opener Brother begins with the sound of Sufjan Stevens weeping gently over the sound of crickets, but before you know it, the Arcade Fire arrive and the song ends with a musical explosion of noise and ideas.

Herein lies the beauty, yet arguable downfall of Be He Me. There’s so many different musical styles on the album it’s tricky to know where you are. From quirky folktronica (Carry Around) to beautiful indie pop (Bleary Eyed), Annuals are hip-hoping around genres and are doing things so many bands aren’t and that’s taking a risk.

OK, so there’s no mantra to smash people in the face to and Annuals aren’t the sort of band to feed on sneering indie snobbery, but who cares? It’s summer so go sit under a tree in the park, listen to this and feel uplifted. 8/10 Michael Bateson-Hill

Worlds away from the bitter twisted fakery of so much modern pop, Annuals are refreshing.

Annuals

Rough Trade

F

Beano!

Edit this - ?!raaa@/*

1990S Cookies

or some reason 1990s have looked at Jet and decided they want in on the action.

Cookies is not a bad attempt at the quintessential party-rock album, laden with poprock riffs and cheeky lyrics – “my cult status keeps me fu**ing your wife” is a particularly wry moment – while You Made Me Like It is all urgent harmonies and danceable “ah ah ahh” choruses.

However, halfway through, and after the gloriously funky two minutes of Is There A Switch For That? the ideas seem to run dry and the obvious allusions to drugs become tedious.

The lack of variation on Enjoying Myself is cringe-worthy, with the ridiculous Weed about as classy as a fifteen-year-old pulling a whitey on the park swings.

Far too pop to ever truly rock and challenge the likes of Eagles Of Death Metal, this is definitely one to leave to the kids.

4/10 Jim Finucane

Ace Fu

Kitchenware

Deltasonic

hat happens when a white woman takes a stab at soul? If she’s Candie Payne then she excels at it.

Payne sounds like she’s stepped out of another era. She combines a distinctly individual voice with elements of Dusty Springfield, Sinead O’Connor, Billie Holiday and Nancy Sinatra. In turn, her album has a timeless quality which should see it played for years to come.

She was pretty much destined to go into music, with one brother (Sean) as drummer of The Zutons and another (Howie) in the former band The Stands. The Liverpudlian-turned-New Yorker dazzles with a sound that is an eclectic combination of 60s pop, folk, jazz and soul, in an album that plays like the Pulp Fiction soundtrack. Her debut single All I Need To Hear and current offering I Wish I Could Have Loved You More especially would make perfect backing tracks to any 60s spy movie.

There is an acoustic, authentic quality to her work, emphasised particularly in the eerie and haunting songs, Seasons Change and Why Should I Settle For You. A melancholy tone lingers throughout, although Payne reveals her livelier side in the heavily rhythmic and vibrant tracks, By Tomorrow, the brass-infused Take Me and Hey Goodbye.

Understated, thought-provoking and brilliant. 9/10 Tasha Prest-Smith

ANNUALS Be He Me

EDITORS An End Has A Start

Q

uentin Tarantino’s fourth film of epic proportions impressively combines the thrill of the martial arts genre alongside a John Wayne-style Western with an Anglo-American twist. But that’s not it, Tarantino manages to do it all with his trademark dig at popular culture and with his tongue firmly in his cheek.

This film has everything – and so does the soundtrack. Over-the-top and overblown, just like the film, the soundtrack has all the obvious choices – opener to the film and to the

CD, Nancy Sinatra’s Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) and the quick-to-cult status Woo Hoo by the 5.6.7.8s. And not forgetting classic rockabilly from Charlie Feathers and That Certain Female – genre mixing is not exclusively for the film then, and we haven’t even got to the real gems yet.

The best songs on the CD, in my opinion, are what give the film that ironic, insincere edge – tracks like Al Hirt’s Green Hornet (impressively crazy trumpet playing) and Tomoyasu Hotei’s Battle Without Honour or Humanity, most notably used for the film’s trailer and character Oren Ishii’s grand entrance into The House of Blue Leaves.

But as good as this is, there is one track on here that I think is pure genius – Quincy Jones’ Ironside, the short clip used to embody a comic book style feeling of shock when the camera focuses in on a character’s face, with the viewer expecting a colourful array of “Gosh!” and “Kapow!” to appear on the screen. Absolutely awesome.

Josie Allchin MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM

MUSIC Modular

Is it OK to eat horse?

I

t’s no understatement to say that New Young Pony Club are a bit of a handful.

Raw talent, a multitude of influences and a sensory explosion. Kapow.

This is the crux of why NYPC come across as momentarily shambolic during their live shows, but unfortunately not always inducing the sublime tingle one gets when disorder really works. This is, however, where Fantastic Playroom truly shines; an impeccably wrapped bundle that tucks all the stray odds and ends under its disco emblazoned-ribbon.

It is a sophisticated and extremely wellhoned record, incorporating the elements that make NYPC an exciting live band and polishing each trace of messy confusion into a kind of beautiful chaos.

Opening track Get Lucky swaggers in with the same self-assured and alluring style as lead singer Tahita Bulmer's entrance onto each sticky stage. Her vocals are gritty yet sultry in their gentle intonation and blend with

GRACE Detours De

the chameleon-like influences which shift from track to track; from the pure pop Kylie end of the spectrum (Tight Fit), through fightpop Gwen Stefaini style and onwards.

Feisty vocals in the vein of M.I.A pump over the top of Afro-beat war drums of Hiding On The Staircase and the staccato build up of Fan, both offering a glimpse of the multi-layered influences embedded in and used to cement this record. This worldly wise sway often slips neatly into the other more worn elements such as the killer disco snare at the heart of second single Ice Cream, followed by most recent single The Bomb, which cranks the pace up another level.

No one moment sums up the quality of the record better than The Get Go, appearing just

BIFFY CLYRO Puzzle

Polishing each trace of messy confusion into a kind of beautiful chaos.

Domino

F

14th Floor

NYPC

CLINIC Funf

P

MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM

“

Pick e Of Th k Wee

NYPC: Cardiff fun

De Ville? roduced by a guy who’s worked with The Doves, mixed by someone who’s worked with The Kooks, and with an album cover showing striking resemblance to Coldplay’s abstract drawing for A Rush of Blood to the Head, along with a dash of Keane, Detours is in danger of being too imitative of more established bands.

That said, it shouldn’t be dismissed too easily. It’s a perfectly respectable debut album, consisting of enthusiastically strummed guitars, tinkling piano sections and a lead singer who sounds like a manlier version of Luke Pritchard. Except in the track Alive, where the two of them could actually be clones.

These boys know how to get serious and sombre. Dark Horse is a pretty heartbreaking tale of a girlfriend playing away, Sleep All Day is a subtle complaint against the monotony and coercion of contemporary society and Sink Like A Stone is a beautifully sung melody musing on death and the afterlife. Even a happier track, like their debut single, Stand Still, is steeped in the bittersweet.

Wonderful and Explode (which also showcases an impressive vocal range) are loud, ear-bashing, anthemic ballads, good for driving along to. Overall, it’s an album that grows on you, and the band will probably develop a more unique sound over time.

6/10 T.P-S

over halfway through and dazzling the very notes it is made up of with intellectually neat, prickly lyrics and the circling predatory bass line. Instantly disintegrating gracefully into a dark, crumbling lament of Talking Talking.

Echoes of the genre spanning ESG ideology, riot grrl attitude and the traditional electronic sensibility of bands à la The Human League entrench this record with the same intense electrifying passion of many artists gone by. A mere 10 tracks, but all bursting with potential and leaving room for further growth and experimentation. It does seem that whatever shade NYPC choose to paint with, the result is always framed by an infectious and electrifying beat.

8/10 Sofie Jenkinson

PHOTO: JAMES PEROU

e

NEW YOUNG PONY CLUB Fantastic Playroom

Sigmund Freud will see you now

rom the same label that brought us Test Icicles - who imploded in on themselves in a whirlwind of noise and frenzy after only one album - Clinic follow suite, although perhaps without the same levels of uncontrollable brutality. The unpredictability is still there though, and herein lies the charm of this band.

Opening this album is a somewhat strange instrumental track, to which my heart sank as I braced myself for one of those difficult experimental albums - but to my delight the rest of the album opened up to be an invigorating collection of fuzzy guitar, synth-ridden (often peculiar) songs.

The tunes here aren’t exactly all that original, but the quirky way the band delivers them makes up for this. Having just been covered

by Acarde Fire at their recent show over in Portland it also seems as though they’ve been given the nod by one of the greats.

Clocking in at barely over 29 minutes, you’re left wondering what exactly you’ve just listened to, but the key here is not to expect the obvious. 7/10 Josie Allchin

Always start with the corners

T

his is Biffy Clyro doing pop. Simplifying their unpredictable song structure may lead to accusations of selling out, but this is an impressive album. It’s more polished than previous efforts, meaning it loses the scintillating rawness of Biffy (renowned for touring heavily and committing their live sound to record), but the result is a beautiful, emotional record.

As always, Biffy open the album intently, with single Living is a Problem Because Everything Dies combining complex orchestral layers with touching, morbid lyrics (“Everywhere I look someone dies – wonder when it’s my turn”). The album’s highlight is Folding Stars, a song about the death of vocalist Simon Neil’s mother, which sounds like what Foo Fighters would do if they gave a toss about feelings.

The band’s songwriting talent shines through as they take us on a rollercoaster ride from pounding drums and sweet strings in Living Is A Problem... to pop-punk vocal choruses in A Whole Child Ago, with some sumptuous piano interludes in between.

Biffy Clyro have always been about the music – their continuous touring is proof of that – and this superb offering is enough to do the fans proud, and appeal to new listeners at the same time. Make way for Biffy Clyro: they are about to get the recognition they deserve.

8/10 Jacquie Hoskins THIRTYSEVEN

MUSIC live live live live live live live live live live live live live live

P

ontypridd is not a place one readily associates with the powerhouses of modern rock, but for one day a year, the ‘Pridd is transformed into Fortress Emo for 12 hours of guitar-based frivolity.

The first band I had the delight of witnessing were a motley crew calling themselves Ghost of a Thousand. Well, as far as I could tell, it must have been a thousand twats, because this is Topshop hardcore of the most derivative kind. The face of rebellion for 12-year-olds.

Feeling somewhat despondent, I wandered over to catch Gethin Pearson enchant an enraptured crowd. For the length of his set, the tent became a sanctuary from all the nu-metal pap that was being peddled throughout the rest of the field. Glorious strings and uplifting vocals brought a smile to even my most haggard of visages. I then had the pleasure of encountering Reel Big Fish. Baggy of trouser and brassy of instrument, they reeked of comedy ska and a comedy cover of The Cure would usually be the nail in any band’s coffin. However, whether it was the sunshine, the cheap cider or the sheer energy of the crowd, I

Quench takes to the streets of Bristol to check out this year’s new Dot to Dot location

DIE! DIE! DIE!: Floored

THIRTYEIGHT

TC

S - Intense Kiwi DIY punk at its best – on top of a boat. Making ears want to bleed. Once the assault on the senses melts away the strength of the songs becomes clear.

10:00pm WE SMOKE FAGS S - A three piece guitar band with a backing track. I think I hate them but this is hilarious.

10:00pm ARCHITECTURE IN HELSINKI K - This funky Australian sextet know exactly how to start a party, and that’s with their own style of instrument-swapping, twee, indie-pop fun. Unlike on record, Architecture in Helsinki have a grittier and more direct approach live which turns the crowd into a gang of blissful dancing morons. Ace.

FOALS: Of Horse

TC 11:00pm FOALS S - It could be the drink talking, but at this particular moment in time I honestly think that this could be the best band in the world.

F - The one band I'd nearly been ejaculating over all day did not disappoint in any way, shape or form. They were quite simply exceptional and any band that can make me dance that much without giving a shit is truly amazing. Foals are destined for even bigger things with their jagged ‘math-pop’ disco, and I can't bloody wait. SJ, FJ & KE

LOSTPROPHETS: Good point

JP

RBF: Come up trumps

HIGHLIGHT: Foals Friday May 18th

JP

Brighton Pier

5:00pm CANDI PAYNE S - I don’t get this. It sounds like Sophie ‘alien-face’ Ellis-Bextor doing a Stars In Your Eyes Bond theme special. Her eyes seem dead and passionless - although this may have something to do with the crazy ginger man bouncing around in front of her.

Cracking vocals but there’s something unoriginal about it all.

6:00pm LATE OF THE PIER F - Late of the Pier's sets are like one big party, with wood-banging genius that everyone seemed to love, the ability to get the crowd disco-happy and T-shirts to rival the Klaxons. Fuck new-rave, just dance.

6:15pm KID HARPOON S - If Gogol Bordello was a British gypsy folkster I imagine he’d sound like this. He is like a crazy little minstrel of the modern day.

9:30pm DIE! DIE! DIE!

found myself dancing. Every fibre of my being willed me not to, but it was physically impossible.

A brief jaunt over to the tent found Gallows at their truculent best, inciting the poor sods left out in the rain to tear down the barriers and flood in. Gallows are everything that teenage rebellion should be: loud, nasty as fuck and ideal posterboys designed to piss off your parents. One of the few actual highlights of the day.

Everybody’s favourite pop nonces The Automatic were up next, and despite a ludicrous barrage of plastic bottles managed to pull off a half-decent set. However, it’s a sad testament to the band’s novelty factor that the biggest cheer came from their version of Kanye’s Golddigger. I then had the misfortune to see a band named Paramore, who to my ears sounded nothing more than a technicolor Evanescence and seemed better suited to Spiderman.

Finally, Lostprophets strutted onstage, like emo cockerels to the dulcet tones of Tom Jones. This was certainly a homecoming for them, in a figurative and literal sense; I think Ian Watkins even brought his Nan onstage at one point. A rollicking ride through the classics and even a cheeky New Order cover provided a thoroughly workmanlike set. However, it was still an average end to an unfortunately average day with disappointingly few exceptions to this reign of mediocrity. Ben Marshall

S

ixty minutes is all the notice you get in this town. Horatio's - a Queen Vic style boozer complete with Toby Mugs and Pork Scratchings on The Pier's tip - sees Foals play a turn-up 'n' plug-in guerrilla gig.

Plastic palm trees get trampled and pints of London Pride rocket from the bar like liquid pinballs as Yannis and Jimmy jolt into the crowd as their incredible future-pop recalibrates the fruit machines, vibrates the Helter Skelter and unnails the floorboards.

As penultimate disco-bomb-scare Hummer ricochets off the worm-eaten window frames it feels like we could drop into to the English Channel at any moment - but in the company of Britain's most exciting band, it'd be our pleasure.

Greg Cochrane MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM

MUSIC live live live live live live live live live live live live live live

O

Coal Exchange

T

Barfly

Help She Can’t Swim

eez, bands like you actually exist!’ I thought to myself as Kick-box Riot, in between songs, began poking fun at members of the crowd.

‘Take your music, your T-shirts and piss off’ is what I would have liked to have said. On the other hand I have no balls and instead stared awkwardly into the void of my pint. Never mind!

Next up are hyper-disco-friendly-bopstars The Pistolas and they’re sort of awesome.

Plus, the lead singer is like a little box of anger throwing shapes crazier than your

Solace. This in an exciting day, as The Goblin’s new material is better than it’s ever been. “This record is a real melting pot of all our influences. It best suits our style,” singer Ben Ward told Quench before the show. But it’s the raw energy of the new songs that I looked forward to most on the live stage.

Ward made it clear that the band had not lost any momentum over the last 10 years, describing the band as a “pressure valve” they can use to vent the pressures of the working week.

As they take to the stage, following a fan-

tastic set from Solace, their presence fills the room like an airborne virus. Ward’s giant, bearded stature seems barely capable of containing his crazed eyes, as his band rip it up bluesy and heavy. From the opening chord, the room shook as they made their way through a good deal of the new record.

The anthemic riff-fest of The Ballad of Solomon Eagle was undoubtedly the highlight from the new album, but classics like Blue Snow remind the audience exactly why we love The Goblin.

Mike Richards

J

Monday May 14th

O

Clwb Ifor Bach

Orange Goblin

range Goblin made Clwb Ifor Bach the Welsh leg of their 10-day UK tour, following the release of the fantastic Healing Through Fire.

Cardiff sees very little of the Stoner Rock scene that is so prominent in Swansea, so it’s a true treat for the overlords of the UK Stoner-Metal scene to peddle their sound here in Cardiff, supported by the great MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM

Thankfully the trio of Pull Tiger Tail provide a much fuller sound and engaging performance – bassist Davo was particularly intriguing as he simultaneously glided and jerked across the stage to their electro-indie bursts of energy. Essentially a slightly harder We Are Scientists, even with similarly cheeky tuningup comments to boot, their place on a ‘new music’ tour is not without question.

Headliners Rumble Strips bring a bit of glam to proceedings with their brass-inspired showtune take on all things indie-rock. The trumpet and saxophone add contrast, but seem ultimately hollow gestures. All tonight seems to confirm is that, even when it comes to new music, you just can’t top the prospect of two individuals beating the shit out of a guitar and drums. When taken back to basics, this is where the real inventiveness happens. Jim Finucane depressed uncle dancing to Bigmouth Strikes Again at a wedding. Nuff said.

Last but by no means least: Help She Can’t Swim. These hardcore popstars woo a somewhat depleted Barfly with their brutal indie disco experiments. Layers of noise over sweet keyboard melodies swirl and bounce around the ‘fly. OK, so they’re no Sonic Youth, and sometimes white noise can drag just a bit. But with songs such as Are You Feeling Fashionable it’s clear these hipsters really do know how to pen witty lyrics about wannabes, consumerism and all that stuff. Sing after me: “Do you sell more copies than Melody Maker!”

Michael Bateson-Hill

Wednesday May 16th

NME TOUR: Rumble Strips

PHOTO: JAMES PEROU

Great Hall

n arriving at the back of the Union we were greeted by sleeping bags, leopManic Street ard print, and swathes of Preachers th military paraphenalia.

Saturday May 12 Manics fans, for those of you who didn't know, are crazy, though this rag tag bunch of idolisers sure made a lot of noise when James Dean Bradfield, Nicky Wire and Sean Moore opened with fan favourite You Love Us. Their set tonight draws heavily from their early albums, and from the recently released Send Away The Tigers. Some of the old stuff doesn't ring true, but perhaps this is inevitable for a band who have changed their sound and aesthetic so much through the MANICS: Manic years. The highlight in terms of performance was probably new single Your Love Alone, with James somehow singing both his part NME New Music Tour and that of Nina Persson.

They were clearly enjoying themselves, and Thursday May 17th now that Bradfield and Wire have exercised their desires for solo projects the band seems to have found a new lease of life. hanks to public transport and the However, when Wire donned a skirt and ridiculously early start time for openers stockings and started high kicking, you couldBlood Red Shoes, I race into the Coal n't help but wonder if maybe they were enjoyExchange only to catch the last one and a ing themselves a little too much. half songs of their set. It is still impressive Guy Ferneyhough though, and highlights the perplexing choice to place arguably the most inventive and exciting band here tonight in the obscurity of the warm-up slot.

The duo’s visceral grunge duly makes way for the sickly, lightweight, happy-pill pop of the Little Ones, which achieves exactly the opposite effect on me as I grumble over to the bar.

THIRTYNINE

MUSIC becomes one of the most affecting White

JACK PEÑATE Torn On The Platform

PAPER TIGERS Damaged Goods

Stripes singles ever.

A series of words (or phrases) one might use to describe this single: calypso; reggae; summery; bouncy; bashfully romantic; fun; happy.

Reliving the excitement of a train journey, or perhaps the leaving of a loved one.

8/10 GK

Inoffensive, generally nice indie-pop that should blend in well with the current state of affairs the chart is seeing at the minute.

That’s not to say it’s anything outstanding; it isn’t. Catchy though: that damn chorus has been stuck in my head all day.

5/10 JA

SCOUT NIBLETT Dinosaur Egg

XL Records

CHERRY GHOST People Help The People Heavenly Recordings/EMI

One of those songs that’s so sickeningly sincere that it expects to change the world in one fell swoop of a heartfelt lyric and a piano-based melody. Easy on the ears and all, but can’t help thinking that Mr Ghost’s efforts will go unnoticed in the big bad world.

5/10 JA

Broken Bottle Music

BADLY DRAWN BOY Promises EMI

This single is really rather beautiful. It is very pretty, melodic, and has a subtle touch of melancholy twisting through it. Eligible for things such as Jo Whiley’s ‘Changing Tracks’ perhaps, or a ‘this is our song’ moment.

7/10 GC

DIZZEE RASCAL Sirens

WHITE STRIPES Icky Thump

Dizzee’s back with yet another slice of hiphop genius that is sure to revitalise a drablooking UK scene. With hooks dirtier than a Camden chip shop the track is loud, incisive and memorable as Rascal makes the leap from grimy underground sensation to an MC finally grasping his stunning potential.

9/10 KE

Unlike the first offering off forthcoming album Icky Thump, Rag and Bone, this title track may not be free on the front cover of NME. But I’m guessing that most people won’t mind paying for this classic slice of musical genius. Infectious hooks tangled up in the kind of eccentric guitar-embracing tangents reminiscent of iconic rock bands of the past.

Add an extra serving of blues, and this

Matador

XL

8/10 SJ

EMI

It’s business as usual for Scout here, although even more lo-fi and certainly a bit odder. I’ve listened to the track about 17 times and the lyrics are still utter gibberish; however, like much of Miss Niblett’s output it is both confrontational and delicate.

7/10 WH

QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE 3’s And 7’s Polydor

When Queens go to the studio, it’s an exciting time. The last record was a little disapointing, and the singles were even more so.

And because of this I prayed and prayed that this single would prove to me that Josh Homme hadn’t lost his touch and that the band could sound good without Nick Oliveri in the ranks. But the first listen of 3’s and 7’s was like being told Santa doesn’t exist for the first time: the presents are still good, but the magic just isn’t the same.

It only takes a few listens to realise that it is in fact a good tune, but these days I expect great tunes from Queens of the Stone Age. 7/10 MR

It was 40 years ago today...

I

t’s the end of the academic year and even the end of education forever for people like me. Plus, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band has turned 40. So what better time to get nostalgic? I don’t think many of us will be getting nostalgic about that heady summer’s day in 1967 when the legend began, but you don’t have to have lived through the time when the world was in black and white to have a special place in your

FORTY

heart for the Beatles’ masterpiece.

You may or may not have seen the programme that BBC2 put on the other day, in which some of the biggest artists of the moment (Razorlight, Travis, The Stereophonics, The Fratellis - you know, the usual suspects) each recorded a song and put together a modern Sgt Pepper’s, recorded on four-track and in Abbey Road Studio with the original engineer Geoff Emerick. This of course is a brave idea and if I’m honest, at first it weakened me with a terrible sense of distain in the pit of my stomach and back of my throat. But in the end I watched it because I had to.

It wasn’t far into the documentary when I realised that the idea really wasn’t so ugly and irresponsible after all. I mean, I’m sure the final product in the form of a record would be a truly intolerable listen, but that’s not really the point. Over the course of the show, the biggest egos in British Pop music were humbled by the history of the studio and the magic it produced. A confident Carl Dalemo of Razorlight told the camera how he hadn’t practised the bass line for With a Little Help From My Friends because it was pretty easy. The following few minutes of the documentary saw Emerick and the rest of the production team becoming increasingly despondent with Dalemo as the bass failed to deliver a fraction of the force it did in the hands of Paul McCartney.

But the task was enormous. Only a fool like Carl Dalemo wouldn’t recognise that something spectacular would need to be made of a Sgt. Pepper’s song to even be considered acceptable. And whether Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band deserves this royal status is neither here nor there.

Reminiscing over the album put the same twinkle in the eye of James Morrison as it did with Noel Gallagher or Ozzy Osborne, and that counts for something. John Lennon was dead before most of us were even born, but somehow this album is just as poignant for some of our generation now as it was for the hippies that went before us. Mike Richards MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM

MUSIC

East Infection Will Hitchins casts a wry eye over the increasing presence of Eastern Euopean music on our shelves

G

oulash, snow, big stone walls with guard towers, moustaches, alcoholism, and good old uncle Joe; all these things one might associate with Eastern Europe. That, and a highly efficient intelligence agency. However, in the last couple of years, emerging out of the streets of Bucharest and into the hearts of many, the diverse, melancholy and wonderful music of the region has begun to establish itself firmly on our shelves and in our iPods.

Although on the forefront of the scene only in the last year or so, the new Europe influence has actually been appearing on the western music horizon for quite a while now, gradually marching towards us like a bearded, grizzled accordion player arriving in town to whip the population into a drunken frenzy. There has been an undeniable trend towards music of the region, whether it be actual Eastern European artists who have begun to break through, or more western bands whose music has been unmistakably changed by the sound.

The first band to bring the music onto the western radar were the Kolpakov trio, composed of three Roma gypsies, who were the first such ensemble to tour North America after the Iron Curtain was lifted. This opened the floodgates for a culture, very much removed from the West for over 50 years, to pour into the streets, sidewalks and alleyways of urban America. That was then however, and this, as they say in the old country, is now.

Times have changed, and the vibrant spiritfilled sound of the region is now represented

in all areas of commercial music. One of the most outspoken and well-known troubadours of the scene is Eugene Hutz (right), frontman of gypsy punk pioneers Gogol Bordello.

There are already all manner of myths, legends and mistruths about this character, the most interesting of which is after moving away from Chernobyl to escape the inevitable radiation-induced cancer, he funded his record collection by selling photocopied pornography and pimping it to his fellow classmates.

True or false as this may be, Gogol Bordello (formed in New York in 1999) play a hybrid of balls-to-the-wall punk and traditional

Roma party.

Now we have a slight divide which emerges between the ‘genuine’ artists, those who have blood links to the old country, and the pretenders to the throne, the young whippersnappers who have appropriated this eastern European music and rolled with it. But give a shit because they’re all still making incredible music. A good example of this is Beirut. Primarily the project of 21-year-old Zack Condon, the author and sole musician of last year’s masterpiece, The Gulag Orkestar, a delicate and rousing record packed with trumpets, trombones and violins - the staples of Eastern European music.

Beirut have had plenty of critical success and been accepted into the collections of the wooden pencil case wielding indie kids of the UK, and rightly so.

Slightly older, bubbling under the surface for a while now, are A Hawk and a Hacksaw, who, having recently toured with the Hun Hangar ensemble brought a mix of Transylvanian wedding dances and Hungarian folk songs to our shore. These shows summed up for me everything that’s wonderful about the music of the region.

It’s energetic; there is no posturing or posing. The pin-up boys of the scene are more likely to be 60-year-old violinists than converse-wearing 20-year-old heart throbs, with a moustache never failing to add to the mix.

Above and beyond everything else it’s just fucking great music to dance to. Mishto!

Behind the music..

A bearded grizzled accordion player arriving in town to whip the population into a drunken frenzy gypsy music, which come together to form an undeniably energetic live spectacle, unrivalled by most wet-behind-the-ears indie popsters. Just don’t mention world music. As the moustached Hutz frequently states: “What’s fucking ‘World Music’; it’s fucking punk rock man!”

This leads us on to the spectacular Balkan Beatbox (see above), consisting of two core members, Ori Kaplan and Tamir Muskat, who bring together many varied musicians from around the world, fusing Mediterranean, Balkan and gypsy music with their electronic background, cooking up a big

Adam Gasson is a freelance photographer and ex-photo editor of Quench and gair rhydd WHAT DO YOU DO? I'm a freelancer photographer working for, among others, NME, Future Music, Rock Sound, Buzz and Red Handed. Oh, and a

MUSIC@GAIRRHYDD.COM

bit for Quench.

WHY DO YOU DO IT? Because I get paid to do something I love!

And big cameras look cool.

HOW DID YOU GET STARTED? Through the gair rhydd and Quench, then started shooting for Buzz.

WHAT'S COMING UP THAT YOU'RE GETTING INVOLVED IN? Download Festival this weekend, Glastonbury at the end of the month.

EUGENE HUTZ: Goblin

WHAT'S THE BEST GIG/EVENT YOU'VE SHOT? Boysetsfire's last ever show in Newport was pretty amazing: a rare sold out punk show. My first NME band shoot with Los Campesinos! was good as well.

ONE CURRENT AND ONE ALL-TIME FAVOURITE RECORD? Only one? That’s tough. All time probably Smash by Offspring. Current is either Sleep Is For The Weak by Frank Turner or We Are Still Alive by Latterman.

FORTYONE

BOOKS This week, Books editor Tom Williams looks at what’s going on in the world of Welsh literature, Ed Vanstone looks at why Ian McEwan is still good, and Books catches up with Alexander McCall Smith at the Guardian Hay Festival.

Welsh Literature: Not just for Wales F

rom Roald Dahl to Dylan Thomas, from Rhys Davies to Dannie Abse, Wales has spawned some greats in the world of literature and poetry. The term ‘Welsh literature’ is often overlooked by many as simply texts in the Welsh language by Welshspeaking authors for Welsh-speaking people.

However, there is undoubtedly a scene of Welsh writers, writing in the English language, hoping to raise the profile of Welsh literature and unleash it on the masses. Some staples of contemporary Welsh writing include:

Wales Book of the Year This annual competition is run by Academi and hands out prizes for outstanding works by Welsh (or Welsh interest) writers in the field of fiction and literary criticism. It has two categories for English language writers and Welsh language writers and the winners can expect a healthy £10,000 in prize money, with four runners up each receiving £1,000.

Last year’s winners were Robert Minhinnick’s To Babel and Back, and Rhys Evans’ Gwynfor: Rhag Pob Brad. The short list for this year’s Wales Book of the Year was announced at the Hay Festival.

The English language shortlist collected such talents as Chistine Evans for her collection of short stories Growth Rings, rock climbing and travel writer Jim Perrin for The Climbing Essays, and Lloyd Jones for his novel Mr Cassini. The Welsh language shortlist included Robin Chapman’s biography of Saunders Lewis named Un Bywyd o Blith Nifer, Llwyd Owen’s Ffydd Gobaith Cariad and Gwen Pritchard Jones’ Dygwyl Eneidiau. The winner of the £10,000 prize money will be announced on July 9.

Tickets are still available for this prestigious event, which will be held at the Cardiff Hilton, and are priced £40. The ceremony is hosted by BBC man Rhun ap Lorwerth and professor Dai Smith, while award-style music comes from the Paul Jones Jazz Quartet.

FORTYTWO

Peter Finch

FINCH: Awe-insipiring

This Cardiff poet has redefined the ‘cityguide’ book with his intriguing and factual look at the city in Real Cardiff. In his own unique way, Finch explores Cardiff as a city undergoing continual change and make-overs and gaining in popularity. Demonstrating how

a post-industrial city can work without losing its tradition and culture, Finch dissects the city into streets, bars and parks and simply observes Cardiff’s character. This book is for anyone who is interested in the darker, trivial and irreverent histories of Cardiff.

John Williams

young city-folk to the once dangerous and down-trodden area of the city. Recent advertisements for the redeveloped area seem to ignore the multicultural underbelly of the Bay. Williams, in his novels which include Cardiff Dead, Temperance Town and The Prince of Wales show this area for what it really was, and as can be argued with the area of Butetown, really is. With intertwining plots filled with crime, drugs, violence and prostitution, Williams explores the hidden depths of the Cardiff underclass. With loveable pimps, hopeless hookers and wannabe Islamic Extremists, he presents Cardiff as a city running as fast as it can towards the 21st century, but also running the risk of leaving behind the culture which has defined the city for so long.

It has been reported that one in five people who visited Cardiff recently did so because of the city’s depiction in the popular reworking of the Doctor Who television series. John Williams’ aim, however, is to show the outside world a more accurate and darker picture of life in Cardiff. The continual redevelopment of the Cardiff Bay area has attracted wealthy business people, celebrities and

Seren Wales’ leading publishing house specialises in English language texts by Welsh writers. Based in Bridgend, the independent publisher has been operating for twentyfive years, Seren boasts a healthy catalogue of authors and has brought to the spotlight many new talents over the years.

Once focusing only on poetry, Seren has branched out to publish fiction, history and biography titles among many others.

CARDIFF DEAD: The dark side BOOKS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

BOOKS

Ian McEwan is one of the most celebrated writers of our time, and subsequently has become a bit of a cliche. Yet Ed Vanstone argues he is still at his very best...

ON CHESIL BEACH Jonathan Cape

Blue - but not like a Tory

L

ike Converse trainers and Radiohead, Ian McEwan’s eleventh novel, On Chesil Beach, has recently been besmirched through association with the rosy-cheeked non-entity that is David Cameron.

Confronted with Cameron’s commendations, the temptation to alter one’s musical tastes, one’s penchant for shoes that caress the ankle, and one’s fondness for the quietly menacing prose of McEwan, becomes almost unbearable. His good taste elicits an eerily similar feeling to that which is experienced when listening to a good friend extol the virtues of Dan Brown: utter belly-clenching despair.

But the thing to remember is that bad people often have - or quite possibly in Cameron's case, fake - great taste too. If Kim Jong-il was a Queens of the Stone Age fan (and he might be), it wouldn’t make them any less fantastic; and the Tory leader’s photographed fixation with McEwan’s latest should not detract from the fact that On Chesil Beach is a wonderfully elegant and haunting novel.

McEwan is one of a handful of writers whom the literati regularly endow with the ‘greatest writer of their generation’ placard.

And rightly so. Ever since the publication in

BOOKS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

The Master of Words 1975 of his first short story collection, the gloriously disturbing First Love, Last Rites, it has been clear that McEwan is a writer of immense talent and virtuosity. Over thirty years later, he has yet to write a bad book.

Since the epic masterpiece of Atonement in 2001, McEwan appears to have embarked upon a new stage of his career: his last two novels have in common a vast scaling down of temporal focus. Saturday, which appeared to mixed reviews in 2005, followed neurosurgeon Henry Perowne over the course of a single highly-eventful day. But On Chesil Beach goes even further in its forensic analysis of a tiny slice of time, for, though the author shifts seamlessly forward and back to give context and complexity to his story, On Chesil Beach is really about one single moment, a moment in which the author shows how ‘the entire course of a life can be changed - by doing nothing’.

The novel tells the tale of innocents Edward and Florence, two young virgins newlywed and in love in 1962 - a time when ‘a conversation about sexual difficulties was plainly impossible’. Slowly, masterfully saturating his luxurious sentences with tension, McEwan builds up to the first sexual encounter between the two. When it finally

comes - without wishing to give too much away - his description of the couple’s anxietyridden fumblings contains the word ‘gouts’.

Gouts, as any professor of linguistics will tell you, is the least sexy word in the English language.

And so it comes down to a single encounter on Chesil Beach, after the gouts and the grimness, that the fate of these two naïve almost-adults rests. Over fifteen excruciating pages, McEwan mercilessly dissects the conflicting emotions, desires and grievances of his two characters, beautifully illuminating the eternal problem of the unreachable isolation of each individual mind. The stilted conversation between Edward and Florence is awash with words said but not meant, words meant but not said, misunderstandings, mute anger, embarrassment and madness - and, of course, that fateful moment of inaction that seals everything.

On Chesil Beach, at 166 pages, is a masterpiece of succinct subtlety. Few novels can boast a more eloquent analysis of just how easily things fall apart - though Cameron's probably reading one of them near a photographer right now.

9/10

Few novels can boast a more eloquent analysis of just how easily things fall apart

FORTYTHREE

BOOKS

In the company of a Ed Vanstone talks to prolific bestselling author Alexander McCall Smith about sabbaticals, schedules and speculation

I

f there was a world championship in the field of the Curriculum Vitae, Alexander McCall Smith would be a terrifying prospect for any opponent.

Born in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) he moved to Scotland, where much of his family resides, to study law. After the end of his student days, he returned to Africa to teach law at the University of Botswana, before moving to Scotland again to become Professor of Medical Law at Edinburgh University. He has written over 60 books: academic texts, children’s literature, shortstory collections, and novels - including the No 1. Ladies’ Detective Agency series, for which he is most famous. His novels have been translated into 29 languages; he has 13 letters after his name; he co-founded the Really Terrible Orchestra, a fixture at the Edinburgh Festival; and he plays the bassoon. Blimey.

Now Professor Emeritus at Edinburgh – “when the books took off in a very, very serious way,” he explains, “I took an unpaid leave of absence and I thought I’d go back, but then it became impossible” – he spends all of his time writing, and hopping around the world. “I’ve always travelled a lot,” he says, “and I think that’s very important in terms of working out how the world works – which as a novelist you really need to do.”

Smith is at Hay Festival to do a talk and promote The Good Husband of Zebra Drive, the eighth novel of his No 1. Ladies’ Detective Agency series - “I’ve agreed to write eleven of them, not eight,” he is at pains to point out - which has brought him worldwide acclaim, and forced him away from his job not to mention out of positions as the Chairman of the British Medical Journal Ethics Committee and Vice-Chairman of the Human Genetics Commission. Double blimey.

The charming adventures of Precious Ramotswe have captivated readers everywhere, and have even inspired a glowing commendation from Flea, the bassist of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, who does a pretty good job of summing up the books’ appeal: “They are really fun to read and make you feel like human beings can have worthwhile lives. I highly recommend them if you like to

FORTYFOUR

With writing I’ve found the more I do, the easier I find it. It’s a question of finding one’s voice. If you find your voice, then you’re off

BOOKS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

BOOKS

gentleman be happy.” (The two have since struck up an unlikely friendship; Smith refers to the bassist affectionately as Mr Flea.)

Having passed the 60-book mark, one could forgive the author for resting on his collection of laurels, but Smith shows no signs of slowing down. “I write four books a year,” he says. “They’re all series: the Botswana series; the Isabel Dalhousie series; the 44 Scotland Street series; and then the German professorial series. So that’s all.”

That’s all indeed. But after so many novels, is there a danger of running out of ideas, and where does he continue to get them from? “Well, I’ve got an idea,” he says, “somebody said something to me, just before the event there.” He draws out a sallow yellow piece of paper - covered with squashedup scribblings - from somewhere deep within his jacket, and I squint at it, pondering in which of his future novels, and in which of his four series, this fragment will turn up. “That’s my ideas,” he laughs. “Little bits of paper.”

Despite the inevitable envy his achievements inspire, it’s impossible not to instantly like Smith. His owlish appearance is emphasised by the tiny round frames of his glasses that perch halway down his nose, and his unfalteringly pleasant demeanour conjures up memories of jolly uncles - fiercely intellectual jolly uncles, that is.

“

I’ve always travelled a lot. I think that’s very important in terms of working out how the world works - which as a novelist you really need to do

LEFT: McCall Smith surrounded by his passions. ABOVE: Sans tuba, plus hat

BOOKS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

It’s hard to glimpse in such an affable character the intense drive it must take to knock out a book - and always a very good book - every three months. But Smith’s secret lies in his method’s rigid simplicity. He doesn’t even redraft. “I’m a serial novelist,” he says. “I do one book. And then I go on to the next. If I sat around on manuscripts, I think that I could get stuck.” He pulls out some sheets of paper. “At the moment, it’s so carefully planned – my schedule is so controlled by other people, deadlines etc.” He mutters for a few moments into his papers, and then indicates a squabble of complicated markings that make up some form of timetable. “This is what I have for the rest of the year,” he says. “This covers three days.

For every day, it’s absolutely like this.

Nightmare.” Even his writing schedule is strictly regimented. “I’ve started volume five of the Scotland Street series“, he says. “I’ll do volume nine of the Botswana series in June. It’s all planned.” Discipline, it would seem, is every bit as fundamental to Smith’s fictions as his talent.

But what of the actual writing? Has it become easier or harder as he has got older, and the books, characters and plots have piled up? Smith pauses - something he rarely seems to do; his speech, though typically articulate, is speckled with “erms” and “ahs”, which fill the brief gaps that form when his eagerness to make conversation outruns his thoughts. Then he answers: “I think actually the process becomes a little bit easier, because I think practice is really important. Interestingly enough, there are many things that become harder as you get on in life, but with writing I’ve found the more I do, the easier I find it. It’s a question of finding one’s voice. If you find your voice, then you’re off.”

Despite having been writing for so long, Smith still finds his appetite for stories has not been sated. “For a novelist really the whole idea is that you listen to what other people are saying and you speculate as to what lies behind the person; what that person’s story is. I find that very interesting: looking, wondering; what people do and where they fit in. So I’m sitting here wondering: what do you study?”

I’m tempted to try and make myself sound really interesting. If I concoct something fascinating about myself, I think, I might get a sallow yellow scribbled note of my own.

Literary immortality beckons! However, my imaginative talent is no match for Smith’s, and so I just mumble something about English Literature and imminent graduation.

Sadly, I don’t think I’ll be popping up in the author’s Botswana adventures any time soon.

And then, suddenly, Smith rises to his feet, apologising profusely and saying he must go, and I realise that half the reason he brought out his hectic schedule was to show that he really couldn’t give me more time - just a tenminute slither crushed between his confining commitments.

The kindness that radiates from his novels, then, is very much present in the man himself, and after a quick shake of hands, I leave him free to cheerfully fulfil the tasks on his typed-up daily agenda.

All this joviality and literary quality, and he doesn’t even have to rewrite. It’d be enough to make one sick if he wasn’t so lovely. And his website’s great, too. Triple blimey.

FORTYFIVE

DIGITAL

Digital In Review: Blackpeopleloveus.com

T

his site sends up the patronising views of black people which are still held by us more intelligent white folk.

Ooh! Was that satire? Did he mean it!?

These are the type of questions the makers of this site probably didn’t anticipate receiving in response to their bulldozeresque satire. The site is a mock celebration of the extent to which an everyday white couple are loved by their black friends.

There are amusingly staged photographs of the two Caucasians and their negro friends playing hangman (the white man is frustrated he can’t guess the ‘a’ in the word racism.) There are also testimonials from black friends: “Sally always says things that make me feel special, like: You're so cool, you're different, you're not like other Black people!"

Unsurprisingly, a few American – commentators fail to see the irony (post-ironic question - is this racist?): “You guys are the biggest bunch of fuckin' idiots I've ever seen. White people like you are the worst kind.”

This forward thinking contributor myopically fails to see that he holds inherent prejudice against white people of whom the pseudo-owners of the site are just the ‘worst’ kind. This webpage offers a humor-

Dragonocity FAQ Ever wonder whether you’re a winged beasty?

In Review: www.tomorrowlands.org/draconity/faq/

T

here is, as has oft been said, a fine line between genius and madness. Without further ado I can reveal that there is someone living today who actually resides upon this mythical line. His name is Baxil.

Oh yeah, and he’s a dragon.

Baxil has kindly put together an FAQ site for people who suspect that they too are of a wyrm-like persuasion. There is handy advice for people who must sit up at night and ask themselves desperately: “How can I tell whether I'm a dragon or not?”

The more cynical observer might suggest you check whether or not you’ve got a tail; Baxil, on the other hand, informs us that “there's no simple answer to this,” before helpfully advising us that there are “no tests” one can take.

So, no measuring wingspans here then.

Instead we are told that the only way to see if you’re a gargantuan reptile is to “look, long and hard, at yourself.” (This shit is so deep!)

We are also reminded that: “how much meaning ones draconity [their dragon-ness] has is proportional to how much effort they FORTYSIX

ous insight into the paternalistic condescension of whites towards other ethnic groups, but at times also seems a little too sure of itself. That being said, there are a plethora of links to academic sites promoting black history and culture, so if a few more self-satisfied white people actually engage with the issue instead of making unfounded generalisations like I’m doing here, then this site will have made a positive contribution to the overblown and worthless (sorry!) issue of race.

Timothy Scriven.

more about how he ‘snuck’ into that particular town. He must have tucked his wings into his socks. How did he buy them? With some of the jewels which he slept on?

Timothy Scriven

put into it”. Which is roughly the same as saying - “The more often you lock yourself up in a pit of despair and repeat a delusion to yourself, the more likely it is that your fevered brain will accept it as the truth”.

In response to the question that you’re hopefully asking: “I'd love to be a dragon, too, but aren't you taking this a bit far? Baxil claims that, “taking it too far” is a judgment value, and the question that hinges on is: "Why do you believe in something which I can't accept as real?"

Well, he’s got a point there, hasn’t he? Why do we have to take a perfectly reasonable person, Charles Manson, for example, and stifle them with our anachronistic and repressive views? Who cares if David Koresh thinks he’s Jesus? So what if he’s imprisoned a load of girls? After all, it’s not as if what Baxil has to say for himself is really that unbelievable: “Speaking personally, during my last life as a dragon I snuck into a local human town on a weekly basis to buy books.”

The little scamp! I’d certainly like to hear DIGITAL@GAIRRHYDD.COM

DIGITAL METAL GEAR SOLID 4: GUNS OF THE PATRIOTS Kojima Productions PS3

http://myfootballclub.co.uk./

A

fter watching my beloved Liverpool F.C. lose the Champions League final to A.C. Milan recently, some friends were complaining about a few of manager Rafael Benitez’s decisions on the day. Some didn’t like the timing of his substitutions, some thought he picked the wrong starting XI and some just didn’t like his tactics from the start.

Listening to my friends’ complaints the question in my mind was: could I have really done any better than Rafa? Well now there’s a chance to find out.

Former sports writer Will Brooks has begun a campaign to recruit 50,000 football fans to take over a football club. At Myfootballclub.co.uk fans can sign up and pay just £35 to get a taste of what it’s really like to manage a football club. As soon as the website hits 50,000 members the money from members will go into a £1.4 million kitty which will be used to buy a football club. Fans vote for which club they would like to purchase and the most popular financially viable club will be approached.

Each member will apparently have an equal say in the running of the club and there will be votes on which players to buy, tactics to use, starting XI’s and all other major decisions involved with the running of a football club. There will be a board appointed to run the club and present all major decisions to the members for a vote and, though the board would veto any decisions made which would jeopardize the club, the fans will be taking all of the decisions that really matter.

The most important aspect of all this is the fact that there will be no manager. A head coach will take charge of the daily running of the team with the coaching staff and players making video reports from training and matches to help members stay informed of the state of the team. All of the management decisions, however, are entirely in the hands of the members.

This seems a unique and fascinating opportunity for fans to get involved with the running of a football club.

Myfootballclub.co.uk has been operating for a month and so far has over 25,000 members. So if you’ve already won the treble with Dagenham & Redbridge on Football Manager, or you just fancy getting involved in a project with real fans at its very heart, it just might be worth a look.

Lee Randall

DIGITAL@GAIRRHYDD.COM

Heavy metal

T

he setting of MGS4 couldn’t be bleaker. Set in the near future the former political powers have either succumbed to or crumbled in the wake of numerous private military companies (PMCs). These new ‘superpowers’ have engineered a state of perpetual conflict across swathes of the earth. Five of these PMC’s are secretly controlled by none other than uber-amalgam-super-bad-guy Liquid Ocelot.

Ocelot has managed to amass a level of military might equivalent to that of the U.S.A and plans to use his power to finally bring to fruition Gene’s original vision for a soldiers’ utopia, Outer Heaven. To be honest he’s doing a good job of it. War planes fill the sky overhead whilst battalions of mercenaries roam the desolate war torn streets below and GEKKOU: monstrous biomechanical mechs, stalk alongside them, breaking off in packs to hunt down soldiers.

The visual prowess of the PS3 is such that when you actually see one of these unnerving behemoths wade past you can’t help but feel a little worried. The teaser trailer shows a pack of GEKKOU literally dismantle a full brigade of RPG wielding soldiers. Watching the whole event captured using Hideo Kojima’s (the creator of the Metal Gear series) cinema quality directorial prowess is unsettling, yet very exciting.

The majority of footage of the game so far has been taken from only one of the three confirmed locales in which MGS4 finds itself set, the Middle East. However it has been recently confirmed that MGS4 game play will also take place during conflict in South America and Eastern Europe.

What this may infer about Hideo’s intended message aside (although the Metal Gear series has always been a militaristic game it has a prevalent anti-war ethos), the possi-

bility of MGS4 having radically different gaming environments opens exciting possibilities for the player. Tactics would surely have to change to suit these differing climates, and as Snake in this title is no longer the spring chicken he once was, his deteriorating health will be a factor in how you handle each challenge. Snake’s repertoire of moves now includes feigning death, and throughout the game he will need regular injections.

All weapons within MGS4 can be upgraded and, for the first time in the long running series the mental state of a guard will effect their reactions to your presence. Mess with their minds enough and they’ll panic, attack a position they have no hope of defeating or sit shell-shocked rocking like a man-mental.

You can change allegiance to these warring party’s ad hoc, so you can pretty much side with whoever is least likely to get you killed at the time then shoot them in the back once they’ve served their purpose. Otacon returns in the form of a camera-mounted tripod that will surely be used by the player to scope out areas before entry, as do Raiden, Meryl and most intriguingly a young Snake.

Whether these characters have been added as red herrings I don’t know, but I can’t waitfind out.

Dom Mukwamba-Sendall

FORTYSEVEN

DIGITAL PREVIEW: SUPER MARIO GALAXY Nintendo Wii

Retro corner SHINOBI: 1987 SEGA Master System

What I didn’t realise when playing these retro games was that I would discover almost all of them became huge franchises, but as is the case in movies, no sequel (or prequel) ever comes close to the original. Yes, graphics, technology and gaming may improve, but they are still spin-offs of the original idea. Shinobi: 1987, Rendezvous Café (again), U2’s With or Without You, Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer and Sam Fox’s Touch Me (I Want Your Body) pumping from the jukebox, and Pepsi was the choice for the new generation. And that was me, in my cotton cycling shorts throwing my unlimited supply of deadly stars at the evil ‘Zeed’ who had been kidnapping the children of the Oboro clan. The colourful ninjas were mind-blowing - there was not an adventure game to touch it. Five levels, each increasing in difficulty, of this platform game needed to be tackled. But like most of my gaming career, I failed every time to get past halfway, and preferred the role of arcade coach. Oh yeah, and there was Ninja Magic. If you were in deep shit, hit a button and it would kill every other motherfucker on the screen.

Zang!

NEW ZEALAND STORY: 1988 NES

Let’s move on a year to 1988: possibly the greatest year for films. Tom Hanks got Big, Bruce died really hard (“Yippee ki-aye kimosabi!”) and I fancied a cartoon hottie in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?

When I could pull myself away from these wonders I was in Gough’s chippy moving a Kiwi chick in a balloon, or sometimes even a UFO that shot a tiny laser beam around Auckland. I could actually get to grips with this game. My little fella shot arrows at cuddly bears with aviators and a boomerang-throwing brown possum thing with a blue helmet, to save other Kiwis from a huge walrus. Tiki was so cool: he wore the oversized blue pumps and always looked like he was in need of a course of Citalopram. There were secret portholes that you could fire your arrows at and jump three of four stages, which actually allowed me to progress.

Looking back, this game was probably designed for girls - sometimes girls know best. Ask Roger Rabbit. John Davies

FORTYEIGHT

Mario needs a Wii (to show off his skills)

S

haring similarities with the ill fated Mario 128, Shigeru Miyamoto’s iconic aviator of gaming is set to return in what is arguably the most anticipated Nintendo Wii title, Super Mario Galaxy. The plot is as sparse as ever. Someone has pinched Princess Peach and only a short stocky, jovial moustachioed plumber can liberate her from the claws of a mysterious baddie who is, at a guess, named Bowzer.

Mario’s environments (bar the all-tooclose-to-reality-for-comfort Mario Sunshine) have become more and more abstract throughout the years and SMG shows no sign of bucking the trend.

Gameplay takes place on the surface of numerous planetoids floating in the empty (yet ludicrously colourful) void that, to Mario, is space.

Travel between these spheroids is facilitated by ‘Jump’ stars, platforms on each planet that act like the cannons of Mario 64, firing him out into the big black and on to his next destination.

This is by no means Mario’s only means of getting from one planet to the next, however.

On one particular planet, Mario reaches a grassy summit and a beanstalk rises into space and connects with another.

The first thing you notice when watching SMG in motion is that Mario can traverse these spheroids on all axes, sticking to the surface of the planetoids, being able to jump to platforms at right angles, run up vertical walls and follow paths that regularly shift their orientations.

This redefinition of gravity in relation to our cannelloni-munching protagonist shows a healthy willingness for SMG’s developers to break away from previous titles and create something entirely new, and hopefully brilliant. Namely, a title designed specifically for the Wii’s innovative control system, which so far has been made to suffer through one poorly-adapted PS2 title too many.

The control system for SMG looks absolutely spectacular. For starters, the analogue stick guides Mario around his environment the same way it did on 64 and

Sunshine. The Wii remote, however, controls a new reticule that can be directed straight at the screen to manipulate objects in Mario’s universe. Point the cursor at gold stars in Mario’s vicinity and they will gravitate towards him. Hover it over an enemy and it will lock the little bugger in place, then just flick the remote left or right to let loose Mario’s new spin attack, which also doubles up as a defence mechanism for any projectile attacks he encounters along his way. I assume this reticule will also be employed in-game to manipulate scenery. Imagine that: upon stumbling across a ravine, you could use this reticule to drag a nearby log along the screen in order to fashion a bridge or maybe goad Goombas into toppling in one after the other, blocking the gap and forming a makeshift trampoline to simply bounce across. That would be brilliant, and if I can think that up, Miyamoto’s guys can think up something infinitely better.

With no definite release date beyond ‘some time in 2007’, Super Mario Galaxy is a title that I am willing to put money on being delayed - but I’m sure it will be well worth the wait.

Dom MukwambaSendall

DIGITAL@GAIRRHYDD.COM

CULT CLASSICS

The Masses against the Clashes Two cult bands.Two cult albums. But which side of the fiery polit-punk fence do you sit on? It’s time for the (soon to be) annual ‘Battle of the Cult Classics’.

THE CLASH London Calling (1979)

W

The Clash: Smashing

MANIC STREET PREACHERS The Holy Bible (1994)

H

ow many bands have a truly careerdefining album? A totally original statement of intent that distils the purest essence of precisely what that band is about, gives their hardcore fanbase a definitive rallying point and shapes casual appreciators into true believers? The Manic Street Preachers are one, and their entry into this select aural pantheon is afforded by their 1994 magnum opus, The Holy Bible.

The final Manics album featuring the full participation of lyricist Richey Edwards before his disappearance, The Holy Bible, is a monolithic collection, that sounds like no other album ever recorded. Incredibly heavy without being anything so trivial as ‘metal’, being hooky and melodic without ever venCLASSICS@GAIRRHYDD.COM

hen you think of the 70s, you normally think of flares, strange hair and disco-dancing funk maniacs who look suspiciously like John Travolta.

Either that, or you think of torn clothing, snarling expressions, safety pins and some pretty good haircuts.

Joe Strummer and his band of punk icons, Mick Jones, Paul Simonon and Nicholas “Topper” Headon were responsible for influencing a great deal of bands around to this day with their unique song writing, witty lyrics and strong left-wing political ideals.

This bears a striking resemblance with the Manic Street Preachers, who have named The Clash as one of their strongest influences.

The release of London Calling in 1979 was iconic in almost every single way. It embraced the feelings and moods of the time with such a vigour and a force that it is impossible to ignore. From the album cover,

where Paul Simonon is seen trashing his bass guitar, to the pure genius of Guy Stephens who produced. He was known on many occasions to throw ladders and chairs around while wrestling the sound engineer for interfering with the raw sound that The Clash were famed for. London Calling should be in everyone’s record collection simply because it defined a generation and without it, the music scene today would undoubtedly be different. It is not easy to find an album that deserves this much credibility.

The track listing doesn’t disappoint. The title track is still played everywhere today and you will undoubtedly encounter it on a night out; Jimmy Jazz is a change from the ordinary but still something you can dance to and of course there is the sublime landscape that is Lost in the Supermarket. The album, in terms of sounds is much more varied than their other albums as it embraces pop, rock, R&B and even reggae to an extent.

If you ever find yourself out in the unknown, this is one of those records that you will want with you. Quite possibly one of the greatest albums ever made, by one of the best bands who ever existed. The Clash, we salute you! Gareth J.S. Mogg

turing near the world of pop, and being harrowing while retaining a mercilessly addictive quality.

The band’s two previous albums had always suffered from a sense of internal division; nihilistic, controversial and fiercely political lyrics mixed with bombastic, powerchorded G N’R-esque ‘dumb’ rock. With The Holy Bible’s angular dissonance and hauntingly dark harmonies, however, the Manics’ medium finally matched their message. The band’s lyrical and musical teams (Edwards and bassist Nicky Wire, and guitarist/singer James Dean Bradfield and drummer Sean Moore respectively) spectacularly aligned to create such career-defining songs as the deliciously venomous P.C.P., the achingly beautiful This Is Yesterday, and the album’s spiritual figurehead, Faster.

Absolutely essential listening for even the most casual of fans, The Holy Bible is Manic Street Preachers’ masterpiece and remains urgent, pure and defiantly original to this day; an eternal testament to the vitality of Wales’ greatest band. Rhys Trigg FORTYNINE

COLUMNS Little Miss Blind Date

T

here are always those definitive moments in your life which make you realise that everything has to change at some point. And it’s a bit scary.

I had one of these moments recently at my friend’s wedding. Watching the beads of perspiration gather on his forehead while he waited for the bride to arrive, I felt almost as if I was viewing some scene from a soap; Phil Mitchell marries again, there’s a complication ending in a punch-up and a buffet in the Vic with sausages on sticks. That’s the type of script I’m familiar with, it’s predictable, cosy even. But with this, I wasn’t entirely sure what to think.

It was all incredibly adult; for a start, it was the first time I’d ever seen the groom look distinctly smart, let alone in a morning suit with a fuchsia cravat. Looking along the row, my other friends appeared oblivious to my inner confusion, but then they would; one teacher, a council clerk and a couple whose wedding I will be attending next month, they are all now sufficiently grown-up. We’ve been mates for years, ever since sixth form when I had train-track braces, the teacher had a strange taste in shapeless green jumpers and Saturday nights were spent outside the local carpet-floor club holding the bride-to-be’s hair out of her own sick.

When had we become so grown-up? A question everyone seems to be asking just recently. While my home-town friends are buying houses complete with heavy mortgages and a garage, marrying and even reproducing (or doing all three; two of my friends have bought a three-bedroom so they don’t have to move ‘when the time comes’ and are tying the knot in Florida at Christmas), my Cardiff contemporaries and I are faced with the ‘whatnow?’ panic of graduation.

To be honest, however lovely the wedding, I was quite glad to return to the sanctuary of my student house and unmarried housemates. Without my friends’ fears of meeting mortgage payments or finding babysitters, I felt almost light-headed. While the majority of people aim to settle down in the end, there’s no hurry to do it immediately.

I intend to live out the (normally) carefree existence of university as long as I can. But thinking about the future has made me reflect on some of the more useful things I’ve picked up over the last three years of dating delights and disasters...

FIFTY

Game on... the sofa

Sofie Jenkinson on the power of knowledge in the male vs. female battle taking place on a sofa near you

H

ello, I’m a girl and I enjoy watching football. Which, I suppose, gives me something in common with the majority of the population. It does, however, often mean that I am considered an inferior fan and am often treated as such.

I have recently begun to experience frequent and overwhelming MEN: Harmless fun episodes of anger relating to this issue. And this is before even wading into the murky waters of women in sport; this is my issue about women attempting to enjoy and be an active spectator of sports.

Despite the fact that I have probably been in more competitive sports teams than many of my male friends and relatives I am consistently undermined in word and action by many of these people in relation to sport. Let’s take football, ‘the beautiful game’, as the centre point example. A sport dominated by men from pitch, to ownership, to sofa. Occassional ly elements of female involvement thrown about willy-nilly, but they often seem tokenistic. Although the generalisations I am about to WOMEN: Various nudity make are not true for the entire spectrum of further discussion of this knowledge e.g. sport itself, they seem to be a fairly accurate details of transfers and results. This is what outline of the state of football, which appears classes them as different from many female to the last bastion of true male domination. supporters and what many consider being a It has never been a burning ambition of ‘real’ fan. mine to come across like a raging feminist Since whe n has knowing the details of but there are certain lines that I do not feel anything inside out meant that you were worth should be crossed and to berate someone for more than someone else? People refer to the entertainment of a group is one of them. music and/or film as their favourite interests It is quite often a simple case of bullying as everyday of the week and on every social netopposed to anything discriminatory.

The reaction of women, far and wide, to this working site you can think of, yet how many subordination in the field of football fandom is people really know which guitarist used to be in which band and how many B-sides they’ve illustrated beautifully and simply in the ways done. Not many I’m guessing. Even the peomany often choose to show their support. ple who do have a depth of knowledge such Many women seem to over-sexualise themas this do not generally belittle and undermine selves in order to maintain a certain level of the opinion of others, although a bit of snobpower, although whether or not this is actually bery often slips thorugh. Because, and here’s achieved is arguable. A short trip onto any the difference - music is seen as something web-based image search engine speaks for that everyone is deemed worthy to have an itself; from women in team themed bikinis, to opinion on. It seems that in football, and often semi-glamour models scantily clad in miniafor sports in general, the only opinions considture versions of football kits. Either way it is a ered legitimate are male. world away from the images depicting men It’s a gender equality minefield, so maybe enjoying a decent bit of ball-chasing. men should lighten up a bit. Afterall, it's only The nexus of male domination in football, a game and international sports events are certainly in terms of support seems to lie in just about the only thing that really brings out the arms of knowledge. Something which the pride in this country. Still, a bit more tolermany social scientists often refer to as a ‘knowledge economy’, clearly exists within this ance and a bit less traditional sexism wouldn’t go a miss. Right, I’m off to burn my bra, ta’ra. field. Men often display their authenticity as Sofie Jenkinson football supporters throug the exchange and

“A world away from men enjoying a

decent bit of ball chasing.”

QUENCH@GAIRRHYDD.COM

TELEVISION MONDAY BBC1

T unnel Vision TV John Topping Ofcom’s most-wanted Ladies first, then. The first thing to note about Channel 4’s annual motorcade of the inane this year is just how, well, uninvolving it all seemed to be. The opening spiel, consisting of the double-headed yawn of a lengthy official Ofcom statement, followed by a full 20 minutes of Davina performing an abysmal one-woman Russell Brand impression, did much to flaccidify the loins. Yet the arrival of the ‘stars’ in the back of a Limo-black Corsa dampened the spirits even further.

The house, the usual result of a brainstorm between pissed interior designers and Warhol-fixated three-year-olds has done it’s best to jazz up what’s essentially a sour taste in the BB viewing public’s mouth. But is having an oven in the bedroom really going to spice up anything except ageing Mike Reid impersonator Lesley’s porridge? No chance.

Just as well then, that the revolving door of personality holocaust has thrown us a few belters this year. So far we’ve got a Rave Scene ’92 stereotype who looks like Jurgen Klinsmann, a set of twins who’ve been bred in captivity and fed nothing but sugar-coated piss for their entire lives, and a predictably boring Indian-born feminist who the crowd booed because she had a good job. Not because she was Indian or anything: Big Brother’s not racist.

There’s also some topical fodder, from a self-styled wackjob who looks like Amy Winehouse in a hall of mirrors, and a stupid bitch who’d sell her own Arctic Monkeys’ demo for a chance to give a Crouch End pub-rock wanker a good rimming, if it meant she’d get some ‘indie cred’. Then there’s Carole, who is 56 and had a poster in her bedroom saying “I wanna fuck you up”, and looked like a Crimewatch photofit with a stocking over her face (the audience loved her, apparently).

Last but not least, the two obligatory boring fashion girls who promise very little and deliver even less: Charley, who looks like a waxwork of Ruud Gullit, and Chanelle, who is just about the only housemate who DOESN’T look like a famous celebrity, but seems to be head-over-ass obsessed with her own apparently striking similarity to Victoria Beckham.

Aside from their own distinct aura of vacuosity that could suck up a book and vomit out a new lipstick if left unattended, the only similarity looks-wise is that they’d both leave a half-decent corpse if they were kebabbed TV@GAIRRHYDD.COM

11TH JUNE

BBC2

Channel 4

6:00 Breakfast 9:15 Heir Hunters 10:00 Homes under the Hammer 11:00 To Buy or Not to Buy 11:30 Car Booty

6:00 CBeebies:Fimbles 6:20 The Story Makers 6:35 Balamory 7:00 CBBC:Arthur 7:15 ChuckleVision 7:30 Krypto the Superdog 7:45 The Story of Tracy Beaker 8:00 Springwatch Trackers 8:30 CBeebies:Take a Bow 8:35 Jakers: The Adventures of Piggley Wink 9:00 Boogie Beebies 9:15 Toddworld 9:30 CBeebies Springwatch 10:00 Teletubbies 10:30 Seasonal Snapshots 10:50 Seasonal Snapshots 11:10 BBC Primary History 11:30 BBC Primary Geography

6:00 The Treacle People 6:10 The Hoobs 6:35 The Hoobs 7:00 Just Shoot Me 7:30 Big Brother’s Little Brother 8:00 Big Brother 9:00 Frasier 9:30 The Story of the Novel 10:30 How Music Works with Howard Goodall 11:30 My Crazy Media Life

6:00 Milkshake!

9:00 The Wright Stuff 10:30 Trisha Goddard 11:30 five news

12:15 Bargain Hunt 1:00 BBC News; Weather 1:30 Regional News and Weather 1:40 Neighbours 2:05 Doctors 2:35 Murder, She Wrote 3:20 BBC News; Weather; Regional News 3:25 CBBC:ChuckleVision 3:40 Arthur 4:05 Stupid 4:30 SMart 5:00 Serious Andes 5:25 Newsround 5:35 Neighbours

12:00 The Daily Politics 12:30 Working Lunch 1:00 Something Special 1:15 Something Special 1:30 Tennis from Queen’s 5:15 The Weakest Link

12:00 News at Noon 12:30 A Place in the Sun 1:35 Pursued 3:30 Countdown 4:15 Deal or No Deal 5:00 The New Paul O’Grady Show

12:00 Home and Away 12:30 House 1:30 The Left-Handed Gun 3:25 five news update 3:30 Perry Mason: The Case of the Lady in the Lake 5:30 five news

6:00 BBC News and Weather 6:30 BBC Points West; Weather

6:00 The People’s Quiz 6:00 The Simpsons - Wildcard 6:30 Hollyoaks 6:30 Let Me Entertain You

7:00 Celebrity MasterChef 7:30 Super Vets

7:00 York Minster 7:30 Johnny Kingdom: A Year On Exmoor

7:00 Channel 4 News 7:00 five news 7:55 3 Minute Wonder: 7:15 Cricket on five Tracey’s Postcards

8:00 EastEnders 8:30 Panorama

8:00 Springwatch

8:00 Dispatches: Kidnapped to Order

8:00 Fifth Gear

9:00 New Tricks

9:00 Peter and Dan Snow: 20th Century Battlefields

9:00 Big Brother

9:00 Paul Merton in China

10:00 BBC News; Regional News; Weather 10:35 Hollywood Greats

10:00 Have I Got Old News for You 10:30 Newsnight

10:00 Cutting Edge

10:00 Prison Break

11:15 Last Orders

11:20 The Apprentice: Why I Fired Them

11:05 ER

11:00 Sniper II

onto a wooden stake.

Presumably, they’re going to filter the boys in one-by-one; the first lucky soul gets a taste of Tracy ‘Cheesy Quaver’ on Friday, with the rest, excuse me for being presumptuous again here, likely to be a rag-tag bunch of half-witted imbeciles who say things like “I’d like to fuck twins – at the same time man!” ignoring the fact they’re basically encouraging incest and therefore an even more bucktoothed ripple in the gene pool than the one that spawned their sorry ass.

I do like Laura though. Clearly an attempt to present us with a female Glyn Wise, but

Five

6:00 Home and Away 6:30 Payday

good for two solid reasons. Providing she doesn’t go barmy and start taunting poor Lesley with a broom, or quits, she’s got the innocent “What’s a vagina again?” charm that Glyn and Helen had in previous years.

Plus, she’s Welsh, so even if she skins them all alive and uses their femurs to bash her own eyeballs out, she’ll have the entire country’s money pouring into Endemol’s pockets.

Result.

FIFTYONE

TELEVISION TUESDAY BBC1

BBC2

12TH JUNE

Channel 4

Five

WEDNESDAY BBC1

BBC2

13TH JUNE

Channel 4

6:00 Breakfast 9:15 Heir Hunters 10:00 Homes under the Hammer 11:00 To Buy or Not to Buy 11:30 Car Booty

6:00 CBeebies:Fimbles 6:20 The Story Makers 6:35 Balamory 7:00 CBBC:Arthur 7:15 ChuckleVision 7:30 Krypto the Superdog 7:45 The Story of Tracy Beaker 8:00 Springwatch Trackers 8:30 CBeebies:Take a Bow 8:35 Jakers: The Adventures of Piggley Winks 9:00 Boogie Beebies 9:15 Toddworld 9:30 CBeebies Springwatch 10:00 Teletubbies 10:30 Primary History 10:50 Primary Geography 11:10 Churchill’s Bodyguard

6:00 The Treacle People 6:10 The Hoobs 6:35 The Hoobs 7:00 Just Shoot Me 7:30 Big Brother’s Little Brother 8:00 Big Brother 9:00 Frasier 9:30 The Farm Revealed 10:00 Day I Got The Sack 10:30 Power to the People 11:00 Gay to Z 11:30 My Crazy Life

6:00 Milkshake!

9:00 The Wright Stuff 10:30 Trisha Goddard 11:30 five news

6:00 Breakfast 9:15 Heir Hunters 10:00 Homes under the Hammer 11:00 To Buy or Not to Buy 11:30 Car Booty

6:00 CBeebies:Fimbles 6:20 The Story Makers 6:35 Balamory 7:00 CBBC:Arthur 7:15 ChuckleVision 7:30 Krypto the Superdog 7:45 The Story of Tracy Beaker 8:00 Springwatch Trackers 8:30 CBeebies:Take a Bow 8:35 Jakers: The Adventures of Piggley Winks 9:00 Boogie Beebies 9:15 Toddworld 9:30 CBeebies Springwatch 10:00 Teletubbies 10:30 Living History: The Roman Army 11:15 Coast 11:30 am.pm

6:00 The Treacle People 6:10 The Hoobs 6:35 The Hoobs 7:00 Just Shoot Me 7:30 Big Brother’s Little Brother 8:00 Big Brother 9:00 Frasier 9:30 The Farm Revealed 10:00 Day I Got The Sack 10:30 Power to the People 11:00 Gay to Z 11:30 My Crazy Life

12:15 Bargain Hunt 1:00 BBC News; Weather 1:30 Regional News and Weather 1:40 Neighbours 2:05 Doctors 2:35 Murder, She Wrote 3:20 BBC News; Weather; Regional News 3:25 CBBC:ChuckleVision 3:40 Arthur 4:05 Stupid 4:30 Whizz Bang Bang 5:00 Blue Peter 5:25 Newsround 5:35 Neighbours

12:00 The Daily Politics 12:30 Working Lunch 1:00 Pod’s Mission 1:15 Pod’s Mission 1:30 Bill Oddie Goes Wild 2:00 am.pm 3:00 Tennis from Queen’s 5:15 The Weakest Link

12:00 News at Noon 12:30 Supporting Acts 12:50 A Place in the Sun 1:50 Identity Theft 3:30 Countdown 4:15 Deal or No Deal 5:00 The New Paul O’Grady Show

12:00 Home and Away 12:30 House 1:30 Russell Grant’s Postcards 1:35 When Billie Beat Bobby 3:20 five news update 3:30 The Maldonado Miracle 5:30 five news

12:15 Bargain Hunt 1:00 BBC News; Weather 1:30 Regional News and Weather 1:40 Neighbours 2:05 Doctors 2:35 Murder, She Wrote 3:20 BBC News; Weather; Regional News 3:25 CBBC:ChuckleVision 3:40 Arthur 4:10 Stupid 4:35 Dr Who - A Blue Peter Special 5:00 Blue Peter 5:25 Newsround 5:35 Neighbours

1:00 The Flying Gardener 1:20 Lifeline 1:30 Working Lunch 2:00 Tennis from Queen’s 5:15 The Weakest Link

12:00 News at Noon 12:30 Great British Brands 12:50 A Place in the Sun 1:50 Million Dollar Murder 3:30 Countdown 4:15 Deal or No Deal 5:00 The New Paul O’Grady Show

6:00 BBC News and Weather 6:30 Wales Today; Weather

6:00 The People’s Quiz 6:00 The Simpsons - Wildcard 6:30 Hollyoaks 6:30 Let Me Entertain You

6:00 Home and Away 6:30 Payday

6:00 BBC News and Weather 6:30 Wales Today; Weather

6:00 The People’s Quiz 6:00 The Simpsons - Wildcard 6:30 Hollyoaks 6:30 Let Me Entertain You

7:00 Celebrity MasterChef 7:30 EastEnders

7:00 The Apprentice

7:00 Channel 4 News 7:00 five news 7:55 3 Minute Wonder: 7:15 Gavin Stamp’s Tracey’s Postcards Orient Express

7:00 Celebrity MasterChef 7:30 X-Ray

7:00 A Dirty Weekend in Hospital: Mischief

7:00 Channel 4 News 7:55 3 Minute Wonder: Tracey’s Postcards

8:00 Holby Blue

8:00 Springwatch

8:00 How to Look Good Naked

8:00 MacIntyre: Edge of Existence

8:00 Traffic Cops

8:00 Springwatch

8:00 Property Ladder

9:00 Lenny’s Britain

9:00 Andrew Marr’s History of Modern Britain

9:00 Gordon Ramsay’s F Word

9:00 CSI: Crime Scene 9:00 The Apprentice Investigation

9:00 Natural World 9:50 The Rabbits of Skomer

9:00 Big Brother

10:00 BBC News; Regional News; Weather 10:35 Week In, Week Out

10:00 BBC Cardiff Singer of the World 2007 10:30 Newsnight

10:00 Big Brother

10:00 CSI: Miami

10:00 BBC Cardiff Singer of the World 2007 10:30 Newsnight

10:00 Britney: Off the Rails

11:05 Children Fighting Cancer 11:45 A Walk on the Moon

11:20 Reader, I Married Him

11:05 Derren Brown: Trick of the Mind 11:35 Star Stories

11:00 Law and Order: Criminal Intent

10:00 BBC News; Regional News; Weather 10:45 Space Cowboys

11:20 The Apprentice: 11:05 Will and Grace You’re Hired 11:35 Sugar Rush 11:50 Wedding Stories

PICK OF THE WEEK

Gordon Ramsay’s F Word, Tuesday. 9pm.

Food’s foulest mouth serves up another helping of amateur chef challenges, celebrities and quick cuisine. Apparently slightly better than Naked Jamie, Ramsay dishes up a combination of gourmet food, alongside nosh that even the most mentally challenged cook can prepare within minutes. Gordon, and his liberal use of the word ‘fuck’ has made him a firm favourite among the TV Desk, and his coverage of provocative subject matters makes us gush. Even recipe challenges are now fun and exciting, with guest appearances from Blur’s Alex James, David Gest, and resident big-mouthed belly Chris Moyles. As an avid fan of flame-grilled BKs and shooting stuff, Gordon Ramsay is the man of the people. Now get the fuck out of my kitchen.

FIFTYTWO

TV@GAIRRHYDD.COM

TELEVISION Five 6:00 Milkshake!

9:00 The Wright Stuff 10:30 Trisha Goddard 11:30 five news

THURSDAY BBC1

6:00 Breakfast 9:15 Heir Hunters 10:00 Homes under the Hammer 11:00 Falklands Service of Remembrance

BBC2

14TH JUNE

Channel 4

Five

6:00 CBeebies:Fimbles 6:20 The Story Makers 6:35 Balamory 7:00 CBBC:Arthur 7:15 ChuckleVision 7:30 Krypto the Superdog 7:45 The Story of Tracy Beaker 8:00 Springwatch Trackers 8:30 CBeebies:Take a Bow 8:35 Jakers: The Adventures of Piggley Winks 9:00 Boogie Beebies 9:15 Toddworld 9:30 CBeebies Springwatch 10:00 Teletubbies 10:30 Look and Read 10:50 Music Makers 11:10 Music Makers 11:30 Folk Dance 11:50 Primary Geography

6:00 The Treacle People 6:10 The Hoobs 6:35 The Hoobs 7:00 Just Shoot Me 7:30 Big Brother’s Little Brother 8:00 Big Brother 9:00 Frasier 9:30 The Farm Revealed 10:00 Day I Got The Sack 10:30 Power to the People 11:00 Gay to Z 11:30 My Crazy Life

6:00 Milkshake!

9:00 The Wright Stuff 10:30 Trisha Goddard 11:30 five news

12:00 News at Noon 12:30 3 Minute Wonder: I Am What I Spend 12:35 A Place in the Sun 1:35 Sea of Sand 3:30 Countdown 4:15 Deal or No Deal 5:00 The New Paul O’Grady Show

12:00 Home and Away 12:30 House 1:30 Russell Grant’s Postcards 1:35 Forbidden Planet 3:25 five news update 3:30 Bonanza: The Return 5:30 five news

Serious Cat Says:

12:00 Home and Away 12:30 House 1:30 Russell Grant’s Postcards 1:40 Don’t Talk to Strangers 3:35 five news update 3:40 Sleeping with the Devil 5:30 five news

12:30 Bargain Hunt 1:00 BBC News; Weather 1:30 Regional News and Weather 1:40 Neighbours 2:05 Doctors 2:35 Murder, She Wrote 3:20 BBC News; Weather; Regional News 3:25 CBBC:ChuckleVision 3:40 Arthur 4:10 Stupid 4:35 Dinosapien 5:00 Blue Peter 5:25 Newsround 5:35 Neighbours

12:00 The Daily Politics 12:30 Working Lunch 1:00 Tennis from Queen’s 5:15 The Weakest Link

6:00 Home and Away 6:30 Payday

6:00 BBC News and Weather 6:30 Wales Today; Weather

6:00 The People’s Quiz 6:00 The Simpsons - Wildcard 6:30 Hollyoaks 6:30 Let Me Entertain You

7:00 five news 7:15 Game Ranger Diaries

7:00 Celebrity MasterChef 7:30 EastEnders

7:00 This World 7:30 The Museum

7:00 Channel 4 News 7:00 five news 7:55 3 Minute Wonder: 7:15 Getting on the Tracey’s Postcards Property Ladder

8:00 Families at War

8:00 Holby City

8:00 Springwatch

8:00 How Clean Is Your 8:00 Build a New Life House? in the Country 8:30 Embarrassing Illnesses

9:00 Exit Wounds

9:00 Dalziel and Pascoe

9:00 Mary, Queen of Shops

9:00 Big Brother

10:00 BBC News; Regional News; Weather 10:35 Dragon’s Eye

10:00 BBC Cardiff Singer of the World 2007 10:30 Newsnight

10:00 My Name Is Earl 10:00 Shark 10:30 Inside Deep Throat

11:05 Question Time

11:20 The Graham Norton Show 11:50 Wedding Stories

11:00 101 Most Embarrassing Moments in Entertainment

6:00 Home and Away 6:30 Payday

9:00 House

11:00 CSI: Crime Scene Investigation

Telly round-up So we’ve realised that writing these things is actually quite difficult and so we’re just writing about the handful of bits we want to (read: we can remember.) Let’s begin with The O.C. No longer will we be tuning into the morally-informing Sandy Cohen musings, Ryan and his wife-beater, and Seth Cohen’s beautiful face. Yeah, you expected me to say that. Do. I. Care?

Celebrity Big Brother also caused a bit of a stir didn’t it? Donny Tourette being a twat aside, the whole Jade Goody et al being dirty, bitchy, slaggy, cunty, thick, lower-class, jealous racists, was quite possibly one of the most covered events of the year. My mate Dan even changed his MySpace to tiled pictures of Shilpa. Important world affairs: 0 – 1 TV. And then we had Eurovision; I’ll never quite understand the manner in which a musically inept competition could unite so many people. What I will admit to is just how great Turkey’s entry was. Bloody brilliant pop: shake it up Shakarim indeed.

TV@GAIRRHYDD.COM

Setting up an extension ladder at the correct angle is the key to working safely on the walls or roof of your house. Make it too steep and the ladder could tip over backward. Give it too much angle and it could bend or the bottom could slide out.

Soaps Hiyarrr! Well things are really hotting up in Soapland this week kiddos.

I say hotting up, I mean ablaze at the core, scorching at the seams, blistering in all their shoddy glory.

According to the soap mag in front of me, Bradders declares how he wants Stacey back in Eastenders. Mate, she’s been bonking yer dad, it’s so fricking incestuous, yeah you don’t know this (how the gosh could you not: thicko) but meh, you’re a bellend and I don’t care what happens in your shoddy love life anyway. Shirley lives up to her reputation as being a bit chavvy and ‘ard by punching someone (as you can probably tell I’m not reading the magazine, I’m merely describing the pictures I can see). Neighbours is also proper bo this week: Pepper gets a blast from the past and reveals her stalker is the father of the child she miscarried. I couldn’t make this stuff up even if I tried. Karl leaves again for Landan Tawwwn to rush to Izzy’s side, which pisses Suse’ off a treat.

Mega. Oh, and pretty boy Hoyland gets dumped by Glen. In Corrie, David pretends to be gay. That will be all.

Apart from: what a tosser. Denise also tries to kiss Ken, but he rebuffs and there will inevitably be lots and lots of awkward silences and stuff cos that’s what happens in these sorts of situations innit? Moral to this illwritten section: love and soaps really don’t mix.

Hot -

Paris Hilton ACTUALLY going to jail.

The best thing about Paris Hilton going to jail is that instead of the golden ponies and magic elves that she’s used to dealing with every day, the only thing she’s going to be faced with is a gang of crazy cracked-out lesbians waiting to throw acid in her face.

FIFTYTHREE

TELEVISION FRIDAY BBC1

15TH JUNE

SATURDAY

16TH JUNE

BBC1

BBC2

12:00 Home and Away 12:30 House 1:30 Rain 3:30 Danielle Steel’s Changes 5:30 five news

6:00 Breakfast 9:00 Saturday Kitchen 10:30 Trooping the Colour

6:00 CBeebies:Teletubbies 6:30 CBeebies:Balamory 6:50 CBeebies:Step Inside 7:00 CBBC:Batfink 7:10 Arthur 7:35 Watch My Chops 8:00 Mona the Vampire 8:30 The Story of Tracy Beaker 9:00 Hider in the House 10:00 Beat the Boss 10:30 Totally Doctor Who 11:00 The Story of Tracy Beaker 11:25 What’s New Scooby Doo? 11:45 Sportsround

6:00 The Treacle People 6:10 The Hoobs 7:00 Goalissimo!

8:00 The Morning Line 8:55 T4:Big Brother’s Little Brother 9:25 T4:Shipwrecked : The Reunion Finale 10:30 T4:Popworld 11:20 T4:Big Brother

12:00 Home and Away 12:30 House 1:30 Russell Grant’s Postcards 1:35 When Billie Beat Bobby 3:20 five news update 3:30 The Maldonado Miracle 5:30 five news

12:15 BBC News; Weather 12:25 Celebrity MasterChef 12:55 Tennis from Queen’s 4:40 BBC News 4:50 Regional News and Weather 5:00 Just for Laughs 5:30 Weakest Link

12:00 See Hear 12:30 The Flying Gardener 1:00 Animal Park 2:00 In Harm’s Way 4:40 Tennis from Queen’s 5:25 Flog It! 5:55 Trooping the Colour: Highlights

12:25 T4:Big Brother 12:55 T4:O2 Wireless Festival 2007 2:00 Channel 4 Racing from York and Sandown Park 4:10 Location, Location, Location 4:40 Deal or No Deal Classic 5:25 Monarchy by David Starkey

6:00 Home and Away 6:30 Payday

6:20 The People’s Quiz

BBC2

Channel 4

Five

6:00 Breakfast 9:15 Heir Hunters 10:00 Homes under the Hammer 11:00 To Buy or Not to Buy 11:30 Car Booty

6:00 CBeebies:Fimbles 6:20 The Story Makers 6:35 Balamory 7:00 CBBC:Arthur 7:15 ChuckleVision 7:30 Krypto the Superdog 7:45 The Story of Tracy Beaker 8:00 Springwatch Trackers 8:30 CBeebies:Take a Bow 8:35 Jakers: The Adventures of Piggley Winks 9:00 Boogie Beebies 9:15 Toddworld 9:30 CBeebies Springwatch 10:00 Teletubbies 10:30 The Maths Channel - Year 3 10:50 Watch 11:05 Tales from Europe 11:20 Primary History 11:40 Primary Geography

6:00 The Treacle People 6:10 The Hoobs 6:35 The Hoobs 7:00 Just Shoot Me 7:30 Big Brother’s Little Brother 8:00 Big Brother 9:00 Frasier 9:30 The Farm Revealed 10:00 Day I Got The Sack 10:30 Power to the People 11:00 Gay to Z 11:30 My Crazy Life

12:15 Bargain Hunt 1:00 BBC News; Weather 1:30 Regional News and Weather 1:40 Neighbours 2:05 Doctors 2:35 Murder, She Wrote 3:20 BBC News; Weather; Regional News 3:25 CBBC:ChuckleVision 3:40 Arthur 4:05 What’s New Scooby Doo? 4:30 Raven 5:00 Totally Doctor Who 5:25 Newsround 5:35 Neighbours

12:00 The Daily Politics 12:30 Working Lunch 1:30 Tennis from Queen’s

12:00 News at Noon 12:30 Will and Grace 12:55 A Place in the Sun 1:55 Bugles in the Afternoon 3:30 Countdown 4:15 Deal or No Deal 5:00 The New Paul O’Grady Show

6:00 BBC News and Weather 6:30 Wales Today; Weather

6:00 The People’s Quiz 6:00 The Simpsons - Wildcard 6:30 Hollyoaks 6:30 Let Me Entertain You

7:00 Celebrity MasterChef 7:30 Springwatch

7:00 The Trees That Made Britain 7:30 Nation on Film

8:00 EastEnders 8:30 My Family

8:00 Gardeners’ World 8:00 A Place in the Live Sun 8:30 Big Brother

9:00 Dalziel and Pascoe

9:00 Lost World of the Raj

6:30 Channel 4 News

7:15 Doctor Who

7:10 The Culture Show 7:00 Lie Lab

8:00 Nigel Marven’s Big Cat Adventure

8:00 The National Lottery Draws 8:10 Casualty

8:00 Coast

8:00 The Last Aztec

9:30 8 Out of 10 Cats

9:00 NCIS

9:00 Jekyll 9:55 Would I Lie to You?

9:00 Seven Ages of Rock

10:00 K-Pax

10:00 BBC News; 10:00 Balderdash & Regional News; Piffle Weather 10:30 Newsnight 10:35 Friday Night with Jonathan Ross

10:00 Big Brother 10:30 Friday Night Project

10:00 Law and Order: Criminal Intent

10:25 BBC News; Weather 10:45 The Negotiator

10:00 Louis Theroux: Gambling in Las Vegas

11:35 The Faculty

11:35 Big Brother’s Big 11:00 Prison Break Mouth

11:35 BBC Four Sessions: Ray LaMontagne

Nigel Marven’s Big Cat Adventure Friday 8.00pm FIFTYFOUR

7:00 Channel 4 News 7:00 five news 7:30 Unreported World 7:15 Cricket on five

Channel 4

Doctor Who Saturday 7.15pm

11:00 American Psycho

Shaun the Sheep Sunday 5.55pm TV@GAIRRHYDD.COM

TELEVISION Five

SUNDAY BBC1

17TH JUNE

BBC2

Channel 4

Five

6:00 Sunrise 6:55 Milkshake!

10:00 Fifth Gear 11:00 Killer Snake of the Amazon: Austin Stevens’ Adventures

6:00 Breakfast 9:00 Sunday AM 10:00 Heaven and Earth with Gloria Hunniford 11:00 Countryfile

6:00 CBeebies: Teletubbies 6:30 Balamory 6:50 Step Inside 7:00 CBBC:Batfink 7:10 Legend of the Dragon 7:30 Smile 10:00 Something for the Weekend 11:30 Stolen Summer

6:00 The Treacle People 6:10 The Hoobs 6:35 The Hoobs 7:00 Trans World Sport 7:55 Avon Tyres British GT Championship 8:25 New Shoots: Films from Disabled Directors 8:50 T4:Popworld 9:40 T4:Hollyoaks Omnibus

6:00 Milkshake!

10:00 Getting on the Property Ladder 11:00 The Hotel Inspector

12:00 The Clouded Yellow 1:50 Columbo: Dead Weight 3:25 Field of Dreams 5:20 Baby Geniuses

12:00 The Politics Show 1:00 EastEnders 2:00 Falklands 25 5:00 EastEnders 5:55 Shaun the Sheep

1:00 Isle of Man TT 2:00 Tennis from Queen’s 4:40 Natural World 5:30 BBC Cardiff Singer of the World 2007

12:15 T4:Friends 12:50 T4:Big Brother’s Little Brother 1:50 T4:Big Brother’s Diary Room Uncut 2:55 T4:Smallville: Superman the Early Years 3:55 T4:The Simpsons 4:25 T4:The Simpsons 4:55 Supernanny US 5:50 A Place in the Sun: Home or Away

12:05 Nice House, Shame about the Garden: Revisited 12:40 No Name on the Bullet 2:00 Mr Magoo 3:40 Superman II

6:15 Songs of Praise 6:50 The Great British Village Show

6:50 Channel 4 News

6:00 Everybody Hates Chris 6:55 five news and sport

7:00 five news and sport 7:15 Cricket on five

7:35 BBC News; Regional News; Weather

7:15 Deal or No Deal

7:15 Cricket on five

8:00 NCIS

8:00 The Chase

8:00 Coast

8:00 Big Brother: On the Couch

8:00 Envy

9:00 CSI:NY

9:00 How We Built Britain

9:00 Sex, the City and Me

9:00 Big Brother

10:00 Law and Order

10:00 BBC News; Weather 10:20 Medium

10:30 Graham Norton Uncut

10:00 Freddy vs Jason

11:00 Angela’s Eyes

11:00 Seven Ages of Rock

11:15 Topsy-Turvy

11:50 4 Music:O2 11:00 Killer Instinct Wireless Festival 2007

Telly’s Boring, What’s On YouTube?

This week, search for: “Twiggy the Water Skiing Squirrel”: does exactly what it says on the tin.

“Sneezing Panda”: it’s funny because it is.

“Man Versus Beast”: banned American TV show, shamelessly exploiting animals for our own benefit. Shows once and for all that humans are ace and animals are crap. Apart from zebras.

“Baby laughing”: if you’re ever down in the dumps, watch this and I guarantee you’ll turn that frown upside down.

Telly Justice

10:00 Vanished

What’s New With Scooby Doo? – Fuck All Warner Bros might have thought they were clever when they came up with this quite frankly cheap and disgusting rhyme, yet in reality the show has shown no signs of original plotlines or character development since its inception in 1969. Each episode sees Scooby and the same gang of irritating little problem solvers uncover some ‘new’ ghost and/or werewolf-related crime, travel around in their dubious drug-fuelled hippy van which subsequently leaves them in need of a ‘Scooby snack’, or as it is more commonly known ‘the munchies’. Not only does this still perpetuate the myth that the owners of creepy old abandoned theme parks are nothing more than fantasists and enjoy dressing up as ghosts, but it also essentially undermines the sterling work that our police force do by implying that their job could be done by a dog, a lesbian, a whore and a Pete Doherty-esque shambling drug casualty.

Sport

Not – Topman.

Wimbledon is coming and with it the inevitable transformation of your nearest and dearest into tennis afficionados, bombarding you with crap about the tonnage of strawberries served last year and discussing the merits of Roddick’s backhand. Well TV is here to put you one step ahead with trivia so hot that you could cook an egg on it. First off, Sue Barker has donated her skin, when she dies, to be used for a leather sofa in the Wimbledon players’ lounge.

Also, legendary ladies champ Martina Navratilova has allegedly been using a false surname; apparently she decided Martina Russia was a bit stupid and thought Navratilova was a lot more fun. Fact. Plus, Tim Henman has no pubes, Andy Murray once trapped his little finger in a hungry hippo’s mouth, Maria Sharapova plays with a vibrator down her knickers, and contrary to common assumption, tennis is based on pong, not the other way round.

Did you know it sells NME? Well it does, and it’s just one of the reasons why Topman is shit. Get off the nu-rave bandwagon, stop selling bandanas and ball-achingly atrocious flouro wank. You’re not in the Klaxons, fuck off.

TV@GAIRRHYDD.COM

FIFTYFIVE