Another Year, Another Wristband!

Having just about recovered from another year’s festivities it’s time again to look back on the Leeds Weekend, and slate it retrospectively. Dreaming of a grand return to the days of the Carling Weekender we have to ask; how exactly did this year compare to 2009 and the glory days of years gone by?

After any traumatic experience it’s human nature to strive to do things differently in the future, to avoid the same outcome, after all insanity by definition is to repeat the same behavior whilst simultaneously expecting different outcomes. Therefore, after a shambolic campsite experience the previous year, it was only right that I should demonstrate my healthy state of mind by joining the flock of early birds in descending on Bramham park a whole day early. The early bird, a ticketing phenomenon created by Festival Republic that many festival veterans have been thus far reluctant to involve themselves in, would appear to have become a necessity. Only a couple of years ago it was normal to arrive at the site fresh faced on a Thursday morning after a good sleep the night before, you’d have to work your way through an endless cue of bodies and the traffic would be unbearable, but you’d still find yourself camped where you wanted to camp with space for the whole family. Oh how things have changed! These days it’s a prerequisite to arrive on the back of an early bird and an extra fifteen pounds to secure camp in any of the campsites closest to the arena. Shenanigans in 2009 resulted in the worst campsite in history (try sleeping on a main pathway, under a tree, with no mattress and lots of stones) and led us to flock to the park early, admittedly this time from door to full set up completion, only two and a half hours was taken from my life but, what was definitely the easiest entrance to the festival, still turned up some surprises.

Yellow Bubble. The campsite of all campsites. The daddy of all festival homes, the safe haven for the festival veteran. The campsite we couldn’t secure last year. The campsite, which comes with the gift of slumber. It would be there for the taking. The fearful stroll across the rolling hills of Bramham demonstrated just how popular this new phenomena had become, anyone would be excused for thinking that by arriving at 2pm you’d be welcomed by near empty fields but as was the case nobody could have expected campsites to already be bursting from the seams. The trek into the unknown was never going to be pleasant but it was reassuring when we managed to pitch up in one of the finest Bublé quadrants. Why on earth have Festival Republic started this premature regime? What was in store for us this on this Wednesday debut? And how were we going to survive the long day that follows?

Well, as should have been reasonably expected of Mr Melvin Benn, the relentless man that he is, there was nothing in store for us on our Wednesday debut. Post set-up and multiple trips to the car it became clear that our fifteen pounds contribution was merely for the privilege of descending upon Bramham early and did not entitle us to any extra entertainment. Time to entertain ourselves… would we be doing this the whole weekend? One can hardly forget the dismal evening scene from last years festival which was less an ‘Oasis of Rock n Roll’ and more a ‘Carpal Tunnel of Dub’ but the real question was always going to be ‘Has Leeds turned into a weekend rave?’. Obviously, the line-up remains the finest in Rock and Roll, it isn’t this that has de-evolved, but the Leeds sub-culture of neon-nosed teenagers. Last year saw the stark revelation of the ‘Relentless Tent’ which, much to our disappointment and our disapproval, had made a return, like a cold you just can’t shake off, again, we were let down as we were forced to endure the evening spectacle of teenage, binge-drinking, drug using school leavers. It would appear this is the new theme! Festival fashion has always been close to my heart, I truly admire those who can survive the festival looking pristine, as much as I admire those who come out of the other end of ‘Rachel’s Gate’ looking like they’ve fought in Afghanistan, but I do not like this new trend of School Leavers Hoodies. Warm, they may be. Convenient, they may be. Cool, they definitely are not. Leave them firmly at home next year kids, I’ve heard of pride for your University but pride for your compulsory secondary education? I don’t think so…. It would appear that this festival has fast turned into a Region-wide leavers party. What a horrible thought! I call for an age limit outlawing under eighteens, I can just about listen to folk talking about getting into Uni, but to be subjected to talk of GCSE results? Just NO!

Festival Republic still hasn’t quite got all the glitches ironed out when it comes to this festival. I still say that more needs to be made of local, unsigned talent, especially on the evenings and Wednesdays if this early chicken lark continues, and you still find bands on the wrong stage. Whether this is down to NME or the organisers themselves, it wouldn’t have taken a genius to realise that in a time when folk everywhere are buying into twee, indie, lovable musicians, the epitome of this genre shouldn’t be squashed into the NME/Radio 1 tent, but they were, and there were two major errors in judgment by organisers this year, which caused massive problems. The first oversight was at ‘Pendulum’. It’s no secret that this band has become huge, and everyone knows how crazy those drum and bassers can and did get. They played a truly fantastic set and there wasn’t one unhappy face in the crowd, until that is, they went to leave. Having played on the ridiculously located NME/Radio 1 stage, seeing the thousands of danced out and juiced up folk try to leave, was a horrific sight. Stuck in a bottleneck because stewards had neglected to fully open the exit gate, hundreds of fans were caught like sardines with no way out. Paramedics were called, security alerted and poles mounted, it was a disaster. Panic attacks, fires, you name it, everything was happening. Needless to say, it was an, ‘epic fail’. Not quite as disastrous or as problematic but equally as disappointing was ‘Mumford and Sons’ situation on the same stage. With most of the crowd left watching the gig from a poor quality screen, sat on one another’s lap, Festival Republic once again demonstrated a poor lack of judgment. I’d like to say it was a good performance, everyone looked to be enjoying it, but from my position on the outskirts of the field, let alone the tent, I can’t profess to actually hearing a god damned note!

For this writer, the attraction of Leeds 2010 was always going to be the reunion of ‘the Libertines’, a band close to my heart in many ways. There have been incredible amounts of ‘will they, won’t they’ hype surrounding this gig and I don’t really know why, surely the more ‘will he, won’t he’ headline was the 'Axel Rose show'?! Anyway, as was to be expected a great crowd descended on the main stage to witness the show, or the spectacle and the boys didn’t disappoint. With only a mere three-minute waiver of confidence from Mr Doherty, the full set of classics went ahead, hitch proof and with a complementary heir of sickly sweet brotherly love. Whether this new found love for each other was sincere or not, I wouldn’t dare to comment, but Pete was firmly on this Planet and Karl had found the confidence he lacked in performing solo, never have band mates needed each other so much and never have this pair made their fans so proud.

A band I was less than enthused about seeing from the off had to be ‘Blink 182’ or should I say ‘Travis Barker’, or is it Blink 183,4,5? When this band split, I didn’t really understand the wide spread sorrow, so needless to say, I didn’t really appreciate the adulation of them reforming. In fact, the only member of this trio worth the acclaim they receive is one Travis Barker, drummer and producer extraordinaire. The band played all their hits, I think, and had some cheeky banter, but were somewhat upstaged by the prior performance of ‘Weezer’. The only memorable aspect of Blinks performance came from Mr Barkers drum solo on a platform, which did a full 360-degree rotation. Weezer on the other hand proved their coin by giving a masterful performance. Showing their experience, they performed in a manner any headliner wishes they could perfct, enticing the crowd, climbing the speakers, shimmying across the billboards and finally throwing open the artist/crowd partition and running through their fans. They did it all and finished the set with every member of the crowd wanting more and doubting Blinks power to outshine. Rightly so, absolutely superb.

‘I Blame Coco’, the project of Stings daughter and rising fashionista Coco Sumner showed that it’s not just her brogues collection that demands acclaim but also her ballsy take on musical entertainment. Only really present at the gig because the bands name had drawn our attention earlier that morning, it was surprising to discover that Stings little madam is following in her old mans footsteps, and this band has quite the journey ahead of it, watch this space! ‘The Freelance Whales’ are another exciting prospect if you ask me. There’s a great influx of this style of music coming through at the moment so it worries me that this little gem might go without the recognition they deserve, with stella single ‘Hannah’ due for release, this fun loving band are great value. Stealing their limelight, and arguably deservedly so, are bands like ‘The Drums’ who played an exceptional set. Heavy comparison has been drawn between these and another band from across the pond, ‘Vampire Weekend’ but the Drums definitely have the potential to overtake twee rockers Vampire Weekend. With an heir of the Smiths coming through via the bands superb front man, the only issue I could take with the Drums was their failure to play their two recent hits ‘Lets go Surfing’ and ‘Saddest Summer’. I criticised ‘Sir’ Alex Turner for neglecting his hits last year and it’s only fair I do the same here, for a festival set is nothing without the hits, it’s these which we are paying good money to celebrate and someone should inform all of these serial hit neglectors out there, of the five ‘Festival Commandments’:

(1) Thou shalt always please the crowd,

(2) Thou shalt always play the floor fillers,

(3) Thou shalt have a good time,

(4) Thou shalt do a good cover, and

(5) Thou shalt be on time.

You can’t really go wrong if you arrange your set list having regard to these and a premium example of this was found on the main stage for ‘Cypress Hill’ who were an abundance of stoner fun, and then lurking unexpectedly in the NME/Radio 1 tent on the Sunday in the form of ‘Phoenix’, a soft rock band with their roots in Versailles, France. Not overly popular in their native, they rely on support from the States and cult support from the edgy regions of the UK. Low expectations were in play when Mr. Wella Wannabe and myself strolled over, and I can honestly say that from the outset, we were blown away. It was disappointing the see half the crowd disappear prior to their entrance, never before has a band so much proven the point that music has to be experienced live to be properly appreciated. Phoenix have a mellow sound to their latest album, ‘Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix’, they almost sound like they’ve spent a little too much time seeking perfection in the production room, a little like the ‘Wild Beasts’ , but nothing prepared me for the robust drumming powers of borrowed drummer Thomas Hedlund and the eccentric antics of front man Thomas Mars who at one point, threw himself at the mercy of his fans. A truly magnificent set all in all, and the only band I went away from the festival with a little more space in my heart for. Whether it was the astounding light display, which was like nothing I have ever seen at a festival, or their pure energy on stage, this band proved their weight in gold and I shall definitely be watching out for UK Tour Dates.

Other bands I’ll be looking out for in the future are ‘NOFX’ and ‘Frank Turner’. The first, very experienced to the point I seriously think they are more comfortable on stage than in their living room, gave a fun loving set with comical, almost cartoon-esque moments where the band exchanged puns and jokes…

‘My dad died in the Auschwitz’

‘How?’

‘He fell off his watchtower, drunk!’

… and the latter, fairly new to the scene but rather enchanting and very honest performer Frank Turner. His set was warm, lively and everything you want from an artist you enjoy. I shan’t be looking out for, or mentioning in any more glory than this, ‘Guns ‘n’ Roses’, because I don’t believe they were there. Axel did his best, only arriving on the stage 30 minutes late and having a glorious rant at Mr Benn in an attempt to extend his curfew, but the band just isn’t the same without the rock royalty that is Slash. I’m sure they were entertaining enough though.

So, admittedly, this is hardly the short summery I intended it to be when I started writing but I feel it’s all well founded! With the entertainment being so lax, it was nice to resort to entertaining ourselves as it would have been back in the 60’s (or so I imagine!) and I have a query for you all; ‘How many of these ‘popular’ throwbacks from the land of verbal discomfort are you able to bring yourself to use? We tried and tested some of the following with great success!:

Win, Fail, Epic Fail, Fo'Sho, Mo'Fo, Sick, Phat, Okies, Fair, LOL (a full list shall be compiled below!)

Don’t be afraid to try them out yourselves, and Muchos thank you to everyone I camped with, for I had a splendid weekend. Highlights being:

(1) The Punk Duck

(2) The Guardian Poncho

(3) Limbo at Cypress Hill

(4) That silly sod that security nearly threw out on the Friday for well, being a silly sod

(5) Super messy Saturday, as per…. and,

(6) Showering in wine.

Until next time!!

Gaslights in Brixton

Reviewing a band like The Gaslight Anthem is never an easy one to call, with a dedicated fan base that churn out the bands lyrics in perfect harmony it’s hard not to get sucked in purely by the atmosphere. Rocking into the Academy just in time to see the Sharks exit the stage I arrived with enough time to buy a nice pint of Tuborg (O2’s Draught of choice) and find myself a nice position within the crowd. When the second support band ‘Twin Atlantic’ stumbled onto the stage the venue was already filling up. It was a sold-out show, so Rock fans were bound to be disappointed to be hearing from a band that were seemingly influenced by bands such as ‘At The Drive-In’. The band sings in their native Glaswegian accents, not necessarily a bad thing, but in such a large venue they lacked the dynamism of their recordings and seemed somewhat lost on the stage, it being one of the biggest in the country.

The Gaslight Anthem took to the stage to deafening applause, seeming somewhat overwhelmed by the masses of fans they had managed to entice to the South London venue. Opening with a single from the new album's 'American Slang', the bulk of their main set was made up of recent songs, starting with the self titled ‘American Slang’, moving on to 'Queen Of Lower Chelsea', 'Stay Lucky' and 'Bring It On' and it’s safe to say the band didn’t play out of purpose throughout the entire set. Obviously, the crowd erupted into ecstatic applause when the band played 'The '59 Sound' from their second album, which they played only eight songs of. Having been to most of the gigs at the Brixton Academy (a lot of people will be aware that I also work there) I don’t think I have ever come across a crowd that were quite so responsive as this one. No encouragement was needed from vocalist Brian Fallon for the crowd to pipe up and chant the chorus of ‘No Surrender; back at the band, or should I say idols they had paid to see, for these were not fans who turn up on a whim, because they....

‘liked that song on TV that they did with Springsteen"

.... which they did play fantastically well and was received with all the cheers and yelps it deserved (pretty much every member of the audiencesang along with the band in a beautiful four minutes of synchronicity) NO, this audience was the result of years of touring, three great rock 'n' roll records and a hell of a lot of hard work.

Closing with a raucous cover of The Who's 'Baba O'Riley' was a masterstroke. It saw fans covering the scatter graph of ages come together, arm-in-arm. It’s going to be a big year for the Gaslight Anthem and they ended the night with a rapturous five-song encore, drawing mainly from 'The '59 Sound'. Absolutely brilliant.

Junction 22

It was exactly one year ago to this day that I ‘voiced’ my fears of impending adulthood and achieving the milestone age of 21. It was exactly one year ago to the day that I sat on my IKEA sofa in my warehouse conversion in Hoxton, procrastinating when I should have been reading some informed authority on company law. TODAY, I sit on an IKEA sofa in a one bedroom flat in Hoxton, procrastinating when I should be preparing for the impending conference I have in the morning. Still fearing impending adulthood, some things never change. I’m sat peering out of the window and on the face of things I realize that I’m getting nowhere with any significant speed these days!

I turned 21 years of age with priorities for the coming year, I was to commence the Bar Vocational Course, try and secure pupilage, find a place to live and continue loving music. I will turn 22 years of age having pretty much completed the Bar Vocation Course, failed to secure a pupilage or any form of job security, having spent approximately fifty thousand English pounds and recently regaining my love for music having lost it to Blackstone Criminal Practice last October. So this is sounding like a dreary life account already but it’s by all means not supposed to, for I sit here in my Hoxton abode, perched on my IKEA sofa and I reflect on my life as a 21 year old. I’ll tell you what; it’s been a pretty good one!

I first walked along Bedford Row on September 16th , somewhat unsure of what kind of hand I was about to be dealt. I can now divulge that I was dealt an exceedingly good hand even if I accepted it with a bit of a Poker face. You see, I went through my degree with a varying indifference towards most people and I assumed I was heading for the same path this time round, instead I was handed group 9. Group 9 consists of some of the best people I’ve met in a while. In fear of turning into a complete girl and gushing about them, I’ll say just this: They to some extent restored my faith in people…

… In the midst of what was an assessment focused year however, I lost a little piece of who I was, it wasn’t until I woke up one morning remembering how cool I used to be that I realized I had a lot to regain. In response to this epiphany there was only once course of action, I rallied the troops and pretty much forced everyone to the Inner Temple Student Associations Spring Ball. If the ITSA Blitz party did one thing for me, it gave me back everything I used to live for [bar friends and family of course]! I hit the shops, had friends over, and started listening to music.

AH MUSIC! Music was like… well, MUSIC TO MY EARS!

An explosion of the senses, like a great big cannon exploding raspberry compote and cream.

I listened to Blur, Muse, the Libertines, Marilyn Manson, Skindred, the Stone Roses, Pavement, Incubus, Maximo Park and much to my happiness made time to work more at the Academy. I hid away my stone washed denim and I was back to my socializing, fashionable, gig-going self in no time. It’s so easy to get bogged down in what you’re doing, especially when you’re joining the dots in a giant dot-to-dot style career path and forget to spend a little time doing what you enjoy. Sometimes you need someone to take your brain and shake it, like a hetcher-sketcher just to scramble things up so you can begin to forge a better path through the rack and ruin you left behind!

As my birthday draws near, I feel that queasy sensation deep, in the pit of my stomach, like a volcano waiting to erupt and probably cause an ash cloud the disced upon London, disrupting everything if recent trends continue! The familiar feeling of unease and uncertainty for the year ahead, somewhat comparable to risking the inclusion of egg noodles two days past there use by date on the menu, you never quite know what life has planned for you. I do know this though, 21 was a good age for making friends. It's like the first time you dunk a cookie into your tea... you know when you're onto a good thing!

I have no job, I have no money but I do have a wealth of friendships old and new to cherish forever.

Down To Earth [Pavement 2010]

The face of so called ‘Indie’ music has changed immensely over the last decade, to such an extreme that you could never really expect a self coined ‘middle-big college rock band’ to remain a hit after a 10 year non-touring streak, surely? Well if Pavement proved anything in their recent comeback tour it is that it doesn’t matter how long you’re away, or how much music has changed if you managed to reach cult status.

Stephen Malkmus propelled into cult status way back in the 1990’s, in the hearts of anyone who could see past the bands former discrepancies, mainly the plagiarism claims, and took the rest of band for the ride alongside him. Pavement, soon became a favorite amongst Indie Fizzpickles everywhere, admired for their mumbling charm and slacking sound. A ‘raw’ band they have always been and a ‘raw’ band they remain today, the awkwardness and the rough around the edges approach to their four-night spell at Brixton Academy demonstrated why they are still loved today. Having achieved cult status, success is much like relying on a good recipe; if you keep the ingredients the same, you’ll never go far wrong.

Many a sour remark towards rival bands such as The Stone Temple pilots and The Smashing Pumpkins rekindled their grumpy attitudes towards what constitutes a crowd pleasing performance, leaving the crowd experiencing the much anticipated awkward, mumbling performance which caused them to fall in love with the band in the first place. There were the usual screams and scowls from percussionist Bob Nastanovich which progressed the band through it’s 31-song set, sweeping from the mundane softer numbers, into the progressive, exciting numbers, sometimes like a hurricane…

It was obvious, when considering that prior to their tour they’ve performed less than a handful of gigs together in the last decade, that the performance was going to be less than perfect but somehow that just added to the charm making it feel special, perhaps more than perfect. The band showed they still have what it takes though, showing their ability to change styles and shift gears at a moments notice they belted through a guitar smashing crescendo post the chorus of ‘Elevate Me Later’ and re-synched, to give a somber final verse which left them swimming into a sea of silence and the audience with every hair on their neck stood on end.

The bands set list, 31 choice tracks selected from all of the bands five albums and eight EP’s was a crowd pleaser, including all the favorites to wet the crowds appetites. For any successfull story, you need a good beginning, middle and end. For any truly scrumptious meal you need a good starter, main and dessert. For any good gig you need a good introduction, bulk and encore. Pavement achieved this easily, starting with favorites Silence Kit and Stereo, they proceeded to move through a jam packed bulk including Grounded, Cut Your Hair, Fight This Generation and finish with not one but TWO sweets. The first encore Date with Ikea and Stop Breathing led to a second encore, lapped up by the over excited audience and their final two songs were conduit and Here.

Generally, the band couldn’t really do much wrong so long as they stuck to what they knew and they sure did that. A truly fantastic, in places, awe inspiring performance by the West Coast Lead Singer and indeed the rest of the band. As though they picked up the very same instruments that had been laying idle for ten years, they proceeded to improve and break them in as the four days went on, leading to a phenomenal performance to end their four-day residence on the final Thursday, proving they still have the talent and followers (including a weird eerie cult atmosphere) to continue being at least one of my favorite Indie bands if not one of the best Indie bands history has ever seen! I was even lucky enough to meet and have a natter with Scott Kannberg, you will be pleased to know they are as nice as they are talented, truly lovely people and I shall end with the question; Can this band do no wrong?!

You think it's all over, It IS NOW!

Okay, so it’s all over for another year but how did 2009’s Leeds Festival fare?

Well for a Festival with little to no need for introduction, it’s veterans could be excused for thinking they’d stumbled into the wrong campsite or at least an alternate reality! Walking through hoards and hoards of semi-pitched tents you could barely fail notice the new festival persona. What would once have been fields filled with Rock and Roll loving folk seemed to have changed some way. The aesthetics, mostly the same with the bright colored bunting, rolling hills of tents, fair grounds and flags flying in the air no, it is the festival goers that have evolved. Evolved into something less than spectacular. With sights that would make the Festival veteran throw up his own snake bite and forcibly ram Rock and Roll albums down the necks of this new audience just to teach them a little about the music this festival celebrates, it was clear that maybe this time, the organizers had gone too far in commercializing the festival and changed it’s world famous vibe altogether.

Rather than camp circles filled with the expected personas of the Gallagher brothers, Jimi Hendrix, Ronnie Wood and Ian Brown sat by camp fires, over drinking and over indulging, we see crowds of a more fluorescent and neon nature indulging in more Rave than Rock.
It does beg the question, ‘Have Festival Republic sold out the worlds finest Rock and Roll festival?’.

Yes the Line-up remains a selection of some of the finest new and vintage Rock and Roll artists, it’s not this which suggests the festival may have been compromised but the post Headliner entertainment. Instead of the expected dance tent uniting festival goers everywhere though classic Rock and Roll music to entertain us until we’re drunk beyond comprehension and sparked out in a stupor we are faced with ‘The Relentless Tent’ which was amply named. DJ Sets from Chase and Status as well as other unknown Dance, House and DB artists dominated the entire weekend. It’s followers (drunken, chin chewing, face paint sporting teenagers) dominating it’s vibe.
With such a calling for unsigned bands, one would surely see evenings as THE SLOT for them to showcase their talent and entertain until the early hours?! Apparently not…. For instead of Rock and acoustics and hours of hillbilly entertainment we were subjected to drug fuelled raves and heavy continual baselines.

This Festival was full of surprises. The Arctic Monkeys failure to pull of a headlining set was not one of them I’m afraid. It would seem all his exploration of the States has left little Alex Turner on a different planet to the rest of us. After playing a set which saw the vast majority of it’s crowd leave half way through it wouldn’t surprise me if he still grants their set a success. In reality, they didn’t have the material. They may have three albums but the fact remains that only one of those was truly successful enough and it was only one of those albums the crowd wanted to hear… and of that album only two tracks were played. I’m sure they killed the festival spirit of thousands of festival goers.

What was a surprise was the lack of attendance in the NME/ Radio 1 stage for the legends who are Faith No More on the Sunday evening. Pulling off a fantastic set to close the festival, one could only feel for them having to perform to a less than half full tent. However, the few hundred present were definitely subjected to an outstanding performance and could only leave the festival feeling somewhat completed to have seen the band play on top form post a decade of non touring.

Surprises come in all shapes and sizes and the Alternative Stage is turning into a real gem. With a phenomenal performance by Tim Minchin attracting thousands into the over crowded tent, one can only hope this stage goes from strength to strength in the years that follow. I LOVE BOOBIES!haha…

It’s hardly going to make your jaw drop to hear that I’m now about to complain about British Weather. Come rain or shine, we know how to have a good time but why oh why for one weekend a year can it not rain and just shine?! For the heavy showers did put a dampener on the festival. It’s just sometimes nice to be able to sit on the grass and soak in the atmosphere, it’s however not nice sitting on the grass getting soaked because there’ no shelter! Maybe that’s somewhat down to the fact that we as a nation are destroying the atmosphere. Maybe the Lord is raining on our parade to teach us all a lesson… well, It’s a thought haha…

Moans aside, believe it or not I had a fantastic Festival. My highlights being performances by:

Eagles of death Metal, Ian Brown and The Prodigy on The Friday.

Tim Minchin, Vampire Weekend, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Radiohead on the Saturday.

Florance and the Machine, Jamie T and Faith No More to finish on the Sunday.

Campsite parties and the funfair remain firm favorites of mine and were explored with due respect on the Friday and Saturday evenings! Combine with this two bearded lizard dragons in a glass of alcohol, crate after crate of beer and a great bunch of guys and you can see why I still had a great festival ☺ The festival remained hitch proof once you discounted the pathetic attempt at directing people to the site and if you don’t count the fact we had to be rescued from the Car Park by the AA! All good stories though eh?! I’m now home, slightly sun burned and more than slightly worn out!

Oh! AND REMEMBER ‘Only a Ginger, can call another ginger ginger!!’

Voters: Floaters, Loyalists and Royalists.

So it’s coming close to that time of year when abstract artists specialising in social governance and truth twisting stand on their podiums to testify their good will and ambition to serve the people and direct our country to triumph. This same time of year defines the personality and moral values of the vast majority of UK inhabitants. Voting Season.
So where would you position yourself? To the right or to the left? To the far right or to the far left? Or just so far in the middle that you’ve got enough splinters in your rectum from sitting on the fence to qualify for reconstructive surgery on your rear courtesy of the NHS?

There are four types of people and three types of voters. You have the dedicated audience, the loyalists, that abide by the policy of their party come rain or fall. You have the reflective voters, the floaters who decide where to mark their ‘X’ on the policies fronted by each party at each election. You have the Monarchists or the Royalists who will vote according to the traditional tracture of our Monarchy and then you have those that don’t vote.

This 4th of June our primary aim should have been to eradicate the world of the non-voters. The United Kingdoms rise to democracy is one of the magical traits of our country and should be treated duly, especially considering how hard we fought for our rights. It would seem however, that succeeding in our attempts to draw in votes (weather by free will or by kidnap and pen forteture) the bigger challenge is teaching voters how to use their vote wisely. Of course what I am referring to in this fairly recent plight of negative reinforcement used to send a message to the labour party this EU Election. Proof in it self that Joe Public still abuses it’s position and involvement in the running of this fine country.

Why did Social Democrats, BNP and Green party gain their seats? Well put it this way: Should all those who voted for ‘any party but Labour’ have sat down and thought about their decision and researched party politics…. They wouldn’t have gained those EMP seats. But Hell… it’s only the running of our country we’re deciding! Why should we take it seriously?!

Considerations for Impending Adulthood

Have you ever wondered when the time will come that some switch In your brain slides into an offensive position and you suddenly realise that you’re an adult, have responsibilities, an accumulating amount of debt and no direction in your life? Well I’m beginning to think this is a myth, you don’t actually wake up one day and realise you’re an adult. I mean, I’ve been told this all before but it made me wonder, can anyone really get away with being a child for life? Or at least is it possible to shirk the responsibility until lying on your deathbed?

I realised my dream last night. It’s not to be a Barrister. Well, I say that loosely. I do want to give it a try. Mingle with high society by night and help the people who need a voice by day. I reckon I’ll try it out for a few years, see if I can’t make some money BUT that's a job. My dream, my real dream, my one singular ambition in life at the moment if you discount the shrubbery of creating future generations because your cells are screaming at you from deep inside your genetics to reproduce, my dream would be to create a concrete architectural masterpiece.

Have you ever watched Relocation, Relocation and compared the properties on offer to those true works of art created by the individual on programmes such as Grand Designs? Well I can probably safely assume that I have seen pretty much every aired episode of Grand Designs and my dream is to have the money to one day dedicate 15months to the creation of my fortress, the home of all homes, my identity, my signature piece.

The exterior, a mix of ultra modern and 18th Century classic architecture will be surrounded by land and lakes and fitted with the best Bespoke interior fittings. Stairwells contracted to artists and craftsmen creating the furnishings. I want to produce a place of real joy and delight. I think £1.5million to show the world a piece of your soul is small price to pay and with what would work out at a £2million+ retail price, a good Pension Plan also. Of course now I’m dreaming…

In all seriousness though, my own house I shall build and you will all look on in awe (one day).

Back to my original statement, the one I made prior to running off on a tangent, Finance. In an age of financial uncertainty the world seems to have plunged into the depths of despair, with only the middle/ upper class and the recession-proof teenagers unaffected, credit is harder than ever to secure with rates rising and lending grinding to a Holt. I was procrastinating at around 3am today when a documentary about dressing up your credit rating appeared in front of my eyes on channel 4, or maybe it was the BBC.

As a lot of my friends know, I have to apply for a loan soon to cover the excess of my Bar Vocational Course, which I embark upon in September of this year. Now, 3 years ago this wouldn’t have been an issue but with the banks inability to borrow money and an unwillingness to then lend money in today’s age, borrowing a large amount is going to prove difficult. Help is apparently at hand though since if I cut off closed accounts, un-used cards and disassociate myself with joint accounts previously used to pay rent, my credit score should be in tip top shape.

It was all this thought of money, the prospect of going into full time work and starting a career in little over a years time that made me realise that with my 21st birthday looming in the wings, I will have to grow up soon…

Now THAT is a scary thought. What does it mean to ‘grow up’ and ‘accept responsibility’? Am I expected to settle down in relationships? Do I have to find more permanent residence, you know, make a house a home? Must I spend nights in doing mountains of ironing? Do I have to echo my flare for a minimalist style of interior on my Social Life? Is it a one night a week, one night a fortnight social calendar now?

I just don’t know what adult life is supposed to offer other than stress headaches and lots of Nescafe. I’m 20 (nearly 21), single and still enjoying my life and dancing to it’s soundtrack and sharing it’s monumiscent tones with friends and family. I’m the king of my own Castle and one day I’ll have a real castle to live in.

I think I’ve mumbled enough now, especially when I should be reading Statutory Authorities on Company Law. I am however going to leave you with something I’m loving at the moment…

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man,
Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

William Shakespeare