Ah, 2018 then. How are you? Oh right, excellent. Anyway, enough about you, as it's a new year and a chance to set out some new life goals, I thought I'd go back to blogging. The micro-blogging of Twitter doesn't interest me at the moment so I thought I'd have a go at this again. See how it goes, and all that. Just a quick one to ease me in:
There is absolutely nothing I don't love about this photograph.
It's Rush outside the Holiday Inn in Birmingham in 1978. A very West Midlands' decade, were the 70s, think about it: ELO, Black Sabbath, Wizzard, Trevor Francis at Birmingham City, Spaghetti Junction, Jasper Carrott, Tiswas ATVLand Birmingham B1 2JP, John Swallow, Red Robbo, the Bull Ring, Crossroads etc. The Brutalism architecture in Brum is one of its great strengths, I find. What a pity theses days that the city seems intent on erasing every last piece of it. I mean, look at the concrete in that Holiday Inn. Also look at the Renault 16. They were everywhere then. I really hope that's the car which will transport the Canadian rockers to the Birmingham Odeon. A very Renault decade was the 70s. And look at Rush, a very Rush decade was the 70s, with their epic twenty minute songs, moustaches and Geddy Lee's boots...
I don't want to keep quacking on about Rush, it's very boring for you and even I'm starting to get fed up of it. Thing is that last night's Rush show might have been my last. I don't know what it was but it was all just a bit 'meh'. 60% of it was good, 40% of it was merely okay. Nothing was particularly excellent, they just seemed to be going through the motions. The tour's called Time Machine; as they've no new LP to promote at the moment it's a 'greatest hits' package but with the 1981 classic album Moving Pictures played in its entirety. That bit was great, as it was proper 'old' but there was too much stuff from the blandathon mid-80s and early-90s albums.
The band themselves even looked like they were going through the motions. The drum solo, a highlight for many Rush fans, was lacklustre. They tried to do comedy at the beginning of both halves of the show by showing overlong films they'd made trying to be funny. Neither film worked particularly well. And we were kept back for another ten minutes at the end while another 'funny' film was shown featuring two blokes from a film called I Love You, Man (no I've not seen it either). I watched this film in the belief that Rush were going to come back on and blow us a way with a rip-roaring run through of Anthem or The Trees, but when it finished the houselights came up and I was just left a bit miffed that I'd missed out on beating-the-rush-to-the-car-park time.
Somebody also needs to have a word with Geddy Lee about his vocals - he strains, and I mean really strains - to hit top notes these days. It was painful to hear, especially during 2112. Perhaps he ought to think about dropping down an octave or two.
I was just left a bit deflated after all the excitement, and that was the general consensus in the car afterwards. Hmmm... Still, I did have a bit of an 'Elbow moment' when I saw them walking out onto the stage, so it wasn't all bad.
Whether they'll come back to the UK remains to be seen, they're recording a new album due for release next year but I can't see them coming back in such a short space of time. And Neil Peart has hinted that this might be their last album. I think that might have been the last time I'll see them. Farewell to Kings.
I'm going to see Rush tomorrow night. Look what some idiot's written on the Facebook Events page for the gig: "Carnt wait, my partner is cumming with me, No she aint a fan,lol. we goin at dinnertime monday make sure we r there intime, we onlt 1 1/2 away but ya never no with traffic, i always panic ) we stopping at the Hilton Hotel tha night too, we in block C row 2"
Thank God I'm in Block A, away from him. I thought Rush fans were supposed to be intelligent? Well, apart from me, that is.
I think it should have read like this: "I can't wait! My partner's coming with me - she's not a fan! We're leaving home at lunchtime on Monday to make sure we're there in time; we only live ninety minutes away but you never know what the traffic's going to be like and I always panic. We're staying the night at the Hilton, where no doubt my partner will be 'cumming' with me. Ho ho! Our seats are on Block C Row 2, so if you're sitting there you're in for a treat!"
I understand his excitement but leaving at lunchtime? I live less that ninety minutes away and I'm not picking my party up until 16:30. By the way, it seems I'm being a personal taxi for this lift I'm giving them, they all want picking up from their homes. I'm just too bloody nice, that's my problem.
So this Rush ticket thing then. I wish I'd never bothered asking this Random Rush Fan to come now. I said to him "If you can't find anyone to go with you can come with us". He's more than taken me up on that offer. He rang me the other night and said "I'm looking at Rush tickets now, how many extra people can you get in your car?" Bloody hell. I'm sure I've got an aura above my head that I can't see which reads "Sucker". I've offered to take the bloke, out of the goodness of my heart I might add, thinking it'd be a shame for him to go on his own, and now he's roping in all sorts of mates to come along. I have a hatchback, not a minibus.
I kind of wish I was going on my own now. I've seen Rush quite a few times now and I've always been on my own. I do this because I know they're a bit of an acquired taste and I certainly wouldn't want to subject anyone else to Geddy Lee singing, in the way he does, about a dystopian world in the future where music has been banned and then a guy who finds an ancient flute in a cave gets chucked into chokey for playing it. Or something. See what I mean? Would you like to sit through that? And a ten minute drum solo? Thought not. Whenever you say to people that you like Rush they always either say "Who?" or they roll around on the floor pointing and laughing. It's best if you hide your light under a bushel as far as liking Rush goes. Saying you like Rush is a bit like saying you vote UKIP. Or admitting you're still a virgin (and in many cases with Rush fans...). Or that you think Jeremy Clarkson has got some interesting things to say (and in many cases with Rush fans...)
The other reason I like to go on my own is so that you don't have to interact too much with other Rush fans. You can just turn up, get your ticket ripped and enjoy the show. More typical Rush fans can't wait to spend time together. They rock up in the Signals Tour t-shirt they bought at Stafford Bingley Hall in 1982 and swap tales about the flattened sixteenth Alex dropped into Closer to the Heart at Wembley on the Hold Your Fire Tour of 1988. Or the time that Neil Peart fluffed a drum fill during By Tor and the Snow Dog at Birmingham Odeon in 1979. Aah, what larks. Not.
They also love to drink. And they love to drink together. Usually while eating a curry. Eating a curry while wearing their Moving Pictures t-shirt. And when they've finished doing that they like to headbang and throw that stupid devil's horn sign populated by Ronnie James Dio. And when they've finished doing that they moan that Rush aren't as good as they used to be. I tell you, Desmond Morris could get a whole book out of observing Rush fans at a Rush convention.
Aah, now then, Rush conventions. I used to be quite pally with a lad, when I used to frequent Rush messageboards (not advised, Rush messageboards. All human life is there) and I asked him once if he fancied going to the UK Rush fan convention, you know, 'for a laugh'. I loved his answer, and I've never forgotten it: "Spend a day with a load of Rush fans? No thanks."
So I wish I was going on my own now and not having to spend the late afternoon and evening listening to some Rush fans quack on about Cygnus X-1. Sometimes loving a band is very hard work. I hope Geddy Lee's pleased with himself.
Having said all that though, they're one of only two bands whom I get incredibly excited about when I see them walking onstage. Who'd have thought that three Canadians could exert that much emotional power over one human being?
Here's the world's greatest living drummer, and, as it happens, also the world's mardiest man trying to do 'comedy'.
The drums then. Well it all went rather swimmingly, especially as I was having my doubts approaching the rehearsal studio where the lesson took place; it was at some industrial units at a farm just out of town. Very dark and very lonely during the evening.
I introduced myself to the teacher and after we exchanged pleasantries he sat me behind the drums straight away and we were in. I don't like blowing smoke up my own trumpet but he said that he couldn't believe that I'd never played the drums before as I was picking it up straight away and had bags of 'natural rhythm', oo-er. Or do you think that was a ploy to give me confidence and go back? After twenty minutes I was playing a basic rock drum pattern which he said can be heard, most famously, on AC/DC's Back in Black. Which is handy as that's the ringtone on my mobile. He then stood there and said "We'll have you playing Rush fills in no time." the word 'fills' means nothing to me, it must be something technical, but I smiled to make out I knew what he was on about. In fact, we spent half the lesson talking about which bands we liked in common.
The upshot is that he says I need to practise, practise, practise. So to that end I'm in the process of buying an electronic drum kit. I'd love an acoustic drum kit but space is at a premium and there are other people to consider. If I get good at it I'll have an acoustic kit though. So my teacher is coming with me tomorrow afternoon to demo a drum kit I've seen and tell me if it's any good or not. I'll bugger off before I turn into a drum bore. Next lesson on Monday. Can't wait.
I've spent a lot of time on You Tube recently looking at old videos of Rush. I've never seen most of them before as when Rush were troubling the lower reaches of the pop charts in the late 70s and early 80s, they never got shown, and I didn't know who Rush were then anyway. What irks me though is these amateur musicians who like to play along with their favourite tracks. What with Rush being a bit of a musos band you get quite a lot playing a long to everyone's favourite Canuckprog-metal power trio. Take this fellow:
He's paying along to Rush's Neil Peart. A man who is often hailed as one of the best drummers still living. Why does he think he can play any better? Nobody's interested in it. Are they? Well 192,000+ were interested enough to watch it. Mind you, they were probably thinking "Why doesn't he go out, get some exercise and get some of that lard off instead of sitting at home behind his expensive drum set up playing along to someone else? Or even better form a band and make some music of his own? And he should stop wanking too, it'll send him blind." I mean, how much would you love yourself to actually film yourself and then put it on the internet? Does he think he can do any better? Clearly not as he just drums along parrot fashion, like an unoriginal turd. Then you get all the other musos chiming in with comments like "Mmm, really tight man, I'd love to see you and Neil in a drum war!" Well the amateur would clearly lose, wouldn't he? Considering he has to drum along to someone else to perfect his 'chops' and can't come up with his own stuff. Anyway, this girl pisses all over our friend above. And she's THIRTEEN. And she can do all that fancy stick twirling stuff.
I get inundated with literally no letters asking me why I like Rush. Try these three originals for size, they tell you everything you need to know about the mighty Canadians. Ladies: try asking yourself, could you ever love Geddy Lee (the singer)? Plenty of Rush's female fans do. I'll leave that thought with you.
This one's a belter with Aimee Mann playing a camerawoman. The director was obviously going mad with new technology:
There's a lovely piece by Stuart Maconie in the latest edition of Word magazine about Gregory's Girl. I couldn't agree with what he says more. I, like Maconie, also use lines from the film to punctuate real life situations. Just the other day I was speaking to someone at work on the phone and trying to explain how to set a particular piece of equipment. I found myself saying "Then the red light should flash every four elephants". I then had to explain to my hapless colleague what an 'elephant' is. And if you haven't seen the film, and think I meant a pachyderm, think again. Go and watch the film, you won't be disappointed.
If you're a fan of the film, then you can count on me as friend for life. The only person from work who I see on any sort of social level is also a huge GG fan. Just the other week I went up to him in the canteen, nudged him and said "Don't touch the ravioli, it's garbage." In fact, this guy is such a fan of it, he even visited Cumbernauld, where it was filmed, as a sort of pilgrimage. I was insanely jealous, until he told me it was shithole and he couldn't even find the Clock Plaza.
And what man over the age of 35 isn't excited by a film featuring Clare Grogan in a beret. Just go over there and have a little think about that. Clare Grogan. In a beret.
Of course it's biggest strength is that it shows teenagers in a positive light. Not trouble-making, glue-sniffing tearaways. Just good kids who are crippled by every teenager's sense of awkwardness. And if you'd seen me at a school disco, you'll get my drift.
In fact events at our school in the late 70s formed part of the inspiration for the film. A girl had been picked for the football team which caused a minor national outcry. It made it on to John Craven's Newsround and everything.
And, our hero, has Rush posters on his bedroom wall. John Gordon Sinclair is a big Rush fan. In fact it was a Rush patch on someone's bag that encouraged him to carry on attending a Glasgow youth theatre group, he knew there were good people there.
You can't beat these for classic lines:
"Lot of fuss over a bit o' tit, eh?"
"We'll start the driving lessons when you've mastered the walking bit"
"Tits! Bum! Fanny! The lot!"
"Let's go and sweet-talk those two lovelies" - something myself and GG-fan-colleague usually jokingly say on a night out.
"Whoah, whoah, easy on the sugar, lady!"
"Here's 50p, you can buy loadsa chips wi' that"
"Pickled onions and dates don't mix, you might have to do some *mwah* kissing later on"
"That is a brassiere!"
If you're still unconvinced, it's on BBC1 on Sunday night.
The internet's a bit quiet at the minute, ain't it? So as a means of finding something to blog about here's a quick iPod shuffle. Those with a nervous disposition may wish to look away now:
Elbow - We're Away. A 'bonus' track from my version of The Seldom Seen Kid. It's filler and sounds like it. Drums played with brushes which I usually hate, unless it's a Nina Simone record.
Rush - Ghost Rider. Honestly, I haven't made this up. A slow-burner about the death within a year of drummer Neil Peart's wife and daughter, and his subsequent retreat into four years of reclusiveness. A reclusiveness which found him touring North America alone on a motorbike, hence the title. One of the best songs they've done in the past 25 years.
Radiohead - How to Disappear Completely. From Kid A, not my favourite Radiohead record. Thom Yorke's voice was really starting to get irritating by this stage in their career. Very whiney. The track itself is quite dreamy, acoustic guitars, strings, deadened drums and William Orbit-style 'noises'. Wouldn't sound out of place on one of those 'Ibiza Sunset' type compilations. I wouldn't normally choose to listen to it.
Giorgio Moroder and Phil Oakey - Together in Electric Dreams. Hurrah! Proof that there are, what John Shuttleworth would call, 'fun tracks' on my iPod. From a film I saw once on pirate video about a bloke who meets a woman via computer. Or summat. Now whoever would have thought that picking people up via a computer would catch on? From what I remember the computer falls in love with the woman an'all (despite the fact it has no human emotions or sexual organs). Sorry to spoil it if you haven't seen it. Good song, even though I prefer Moroder's production work on the so-bad-it's-brilliant Son of My Father by Chicory Tip.
GirlsAloud - Biology. Look, I can explain, I'm not gay. I don't care much for the tabloid exploits of this lot, but they - or their producers Xenomania - make very, very good pop records. I don't fancy any of them, by the way. Okay, if I had to make a choice it'd be Kimberley. Chubby cheeks, a false smile and a Bradford accent? What's not to like?
That's it. I was rather hoping for the Don Partridge track I downloaded this morning to come up, hey-ho.
I went on holiday a couple of weeks ago, before I went I thought I'd by myself a magazine. Perusing the shelves of a motorway services branch of WH Smith the cover of the current Q caught my eye. I think I must have bought every copy of that magazine between 1988 and 1998, but haven't had it for years what with all their 'list' issues. I only really bought it this time because Metallica were on the cover, and there was a great bit about The Raconteurs inside. Anyway, in the back they have a feature called The Ten Commandments - I don't think I need to explain the gist of this regular feature - and this month it was Jo Whiley. She gets my back up at the best of times, but she's just made it even worse. Get this: Educate your children "I've shaped my 16 year-old daughter pretty well. There was a brief Spice Girls phase, but I soon crushed that out of her. It was the Arctic Monkeys, I think, that first turned her on to 'good' music. I'm grateful to them for that"
I hate parents who do that. One of the things behind me getting into more alternative types of music at an impressionable age was to piss my parents off, along with growing my hair and a beard and smoking jazz fags. The stuff I was bringing into the house was so much at odds with what everyone else was listening to that it might as well have been coming from another planet. Any record with one of those little Parental Advisory stickers on it was usually taken straight to the till at R&K Records. Even Ice T's Original Gangster album. What gives Whiley the right to dictate to her daughter what she does and what she doesn't listen to? If she likes the Spice Girls so what? A lot of kids of her generation did. No doubt the child was listening to My Bloody Valentine in the womb. Which is something you see an awful lot of in Rush fans. "Er, yeah, when we went for the first scan we had Cygnus X-1* playing. Then when we went for the second scan Xanadu** was playing. At the birth we made sure as soon as the head popped out By-Tor and the Snow Dog*** was cued up on the stereo"
The thing is, with so many kids these days listening to their parents copies of Led Zeppelin 4 and Combat Rock the only way to rebel these days is to fill your iPod with music that's deeply unfashionable. I feel the ELP, Toyah and Celine Dion revival is just around the corner.
*10+ minute song about a doomed spacecraft. **12+minute song based on the poem by Coleridge. ***10+ minute song about a battle between a dog and a fucking robot.
