Oh Maggie (and J. Edgar) I couldn’t have tried any more…

Awards season is upon us, and in terms of film awards, this year’s crop seems far inferior to the last few years. I’ve already made my feelings clear about the Hollywood wank films, and I think it’s a shame Harry Potter is unlikely to get anything beyond some special effects gongs, given a) Lord of the Rings took home a truckload, and it’s not like those films were actually that superior to the Potters, and b) in a fairly mediocre year for cinema, Deathly Hallows 2 was one of the highlights. But snobbery persists, I guess.

One of the safest ways to bag a nomination is to portray a real person, particularly if you’re a woman for some reason. One of the most hotly-tipped contenders is Meryl Streep for The Iron Lady.

I saw this and J. Edgar within a few days of each other – J. Edgar is Leonardo DiCaprio’s attempt at bagging an award for being a real person, and like Streep, he’s been lauded as the best thing in his film.

Both biopics have a striking amount in common. They each have a narrative sequence that flits between their protagonist’s elderly, declining years and their younger days and their career trajectory. Both take some liberties with the ‘truth’ (in Hoover’s case, this is partly because he himself was pretty cagey). Neither manages a particularly fulfilling account of two very significant people’s careers – huge events pass by in seconds – although this is always the problem of trying to cram huge lives into short films.

Both films have come under criticism for being too generous to their subjects and for being too disrespectful – that they’re receiving flak from both ends suggests they may well have some semblance of balance. I’d say that on that score they do the best they can given that both Hoover and Thatcher were divisive figures – to make films that were either entirely celebratory or entirely critical would alienate half their audience.

In The Iron Lady, for example, Thatcher comes across as a formidable woman who achieved status in a remarkable way and who was a very driven and ambitious leader – yet the incredibly negative impacts of her policies are also made clear, with all the members of ‘the public’ in the film shown as being dispossessed, angry and suffering. So I think that seems a reasonable reflection, although many argue that the focus is still on her, rather than her policies. This is true, but that’s a biopic for you. Same goes for the Hoover film, although that one is less coherent – or that may just be because I know a lot more about the Thatcher years being a) British and b) alive during them.

The Iron Lady chooses to use another actress, Alexandra Roach, as the young Thatcher, whilst Streep portrays her from just before becoming PM until the end of the film – and you just KNOW they were willing her to die so their film could include the end of her life – it really feels kind of ghoulish watching it as you can just sense the narrative urging to get to her death at the end. In J. Edgar, DiCaprio plays Hoover all the way from mid-twenties until his death. This is a risky strategy – DiCaprio may still just about look younger than his years but he doesn’t entirely convince as a twenty-something any longer. Both he and Streep excel when their protagonists are, funnily enough, around a similar age. Streep as PM Thatcher is very convincing, she really does do a decent impression of Maggie. (Judi Dench in J. Edgar, on the other hand, is totally phoning it in)

But in both film, the elderly scenes are a problem. In the case of The Iron Lady, this isn’t helped by you wondering how much of the whole dementia and ‘seeing Denis everywhere’ storyline is just made up – I bet a fair amount – and this takes up about 50% of the film, when it would have been better in much smaller doses. Jim Broadbent’s elderly make-up and hair are astonishingly good – and devastating, but the elderly Thatcher, unfortunately – or maybe appropriately – reminds me of this:

In J. Edgar, Naomi Watts’ ageing make-up isn’t that bad, but DiCaprio and Arnie Hammer (who is excellent as the younger Tolsen) both wear so much latex by the end that all I can think of is this:

and with Hammer, there’s also an air of this:

Essentially – they should have cast older actors and be done with it.

I’m interested in seeing The Descendants, which arrives on Friday, and Coriolanus, but all-in-all, this year’s awards-bait has a definite air of ticking-the-boxes in the hope of gongs rather than the industry crafting some interesting and challenging films. Could do better.

Hollywood infecting your brain

I went to see The Artist last night. I have an unlimited Cineworld card and it’s been getting a hell of a lot of awards buzz, so I was intrigued. I didn’t know much about it, beyond it being a tribute to silent movies, being in black and white and having John Goodman and Zefram Cochrane (as he will always, always be to me) in it.

There are a number of good things you could say about it. The two leads, Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo, really do look and act the part of 1920s/1930s film stars. It looks great. I’m not an expert on the period, so can’t say how authentic the detail really was, but to a casual observer, it seemed believable enough. But, other than that, I didn’t see the point of the thing. It just felt like Hollywood (/the film industry) having a massive wank to me, and this seems only further reinforced by the number of awards it’s been nominated for. Everything about it screams Emperor’s New Clothes. ‘Oh, aren’t we clever? We can make a silent movie, like they did in the olden days, but we can pretend it’s original because, a) it has contemporary actors in it and b) it’s a quasi-metaphorical “statement” on how romantically wonderful the olden days were’. Except, no. The lead characters are pretty unlikeable, saved only by the hard work of the two lead actors and the dog, who will probably get best supporting actor (and, to be fair, deserve it). The storyline is kind of dumb and incredibly heavy-handed, and it all feels so very much style over substance. I’m not saying there is no merit in making a contemporary silent movie, but why not update the form for 2012 rather than do a pastiche of the 1920s/1930s period which actually has nothing of interest to say, but thinks it’s being ever so profound?

It’s not the only example of Hollyood/film industry masturbation out at the cinema right now, however. Hugo is guilty of similar things, saved only by its use of 3D (the only film I’ve seen to use the medium successfully since Avatar) and the way it did actually get me to be vaguely interested in the history of cinema, which The Artist comprehensively failed to do. The metaphor in that film is also clunky and heavy-handed though, Chloe Moretz is really awful (and she is usually excellent), and Sascha Baron Cohen does a great impersonation of Inspector Clouseau/The ‘gid moaning’ guy from Allo Allo, although I don’t know if that’s what he was aiming for. It’s exceptionally pretty, but once again feels very self-congratulatory – and rather preachy. ‘My Week With Marilyn’ also has some of the same flaws, although it’s a more interesting and engaging watch all in all – however fabricated it may or may not be.

But really, the film industry needs to get over itself – you’re not half as fascinating as you think you are, luvvie.

No-one I know could ever keep up with you

Arriving at Wembley Park station on Tuesday night was fun.  Wembley was host to two Sweden/England encounters: the match at the stadium, and next door, Roxette’s first UK show in 17 years.  It’s no secret that I adore Roxette, and the Crash!  Boom!  Bang! Tour in 1994 was the first live gig I ever saw.  I thought that may be the last time I would ever see my favourite group live, especially after Marie Fredriksson’s brain tumour and their long hiatus in the years proceeding, when it looked like they really were over (the one-off extras to add to various Greatest Hits packages notwithstanding).  But twenty-five years after their formation, they’re back and on what might turn out to be their longest tour ever.

I’ve put the review under a cut for those of you who do not care. Although you are, respectfully, wrong.

I’m so excited and I just can’t hide it

On Tuesday I go to see Roxette at Wembley Arena.  It’s their first proper (i.e. not secret) UK gig in 17 years and the only one they’re doing on this tour.  Despite their very low profile over here these days, it’s pretty much sold out (there were 40 tickets left last night), which is exciting.

Although I’ve seen several videos of them live, I’ve only seen them live myself once, in November 1994, at the Sheffield Arena on their Crash!  Boom!  Bang!  tour.

This single was out at the time. 

 I was so impressed that I managed to persuade my mum to let me go (it had been billed as their ‘last ever tour’ in some press, and whilst this has not been true, what is true is that until now, it was the last ever tour to come to the UK, I think this was a big factor in getting permission, along with me dragging my friend Bob along) and I was very grateful I did.  It’s difficult to express how much they mean to me – either as much as or more than Kylie though, so you know that’s a lot.  I get a little teary every time I think about seeing them – I’m so glad Marie is well enough to do this, I’m so glad I can go, I am so very, very excited.

You can’t uneat the apple

…but if you are one of the cultists who spent way over the odds on your iShinies, then there’s finally an app that makes the iPad seem less of a grand folly…

An Only Connect app!  This would be the only thing that would make me ever consider buying an iPad, because doing the wall on it has to be more fun than clicking with the mouse.

(I’m not going to buy an iPad just for this, of course, that would be mad.)

Gonna start a revolution from my bed

Like most people, I’m feeling pretty conflicted by the recent riots/disorder/looting/protests (delete according to your political/emotional standpoint) in parts of England.  I feel sad for those whose homes, jobs and businesses have been lost, and for the ugly scars damage leaves on our cities.  I feel angry that people can torch other people’s homes with seemingly no care.

But I feel more sad and more angry about a system that allows whole generations to grow up feeling alienated, desperate and angy.  If ‘society’ (you know, that thing that either doesn’t exist or is big, depending on which Tory party rhetoric you’re listening to this week) doesn’t give a damn about them, then why should they give a damn back?  This, of course, is probably simplifying the situation – the truth is no-one knows exactly why so many pockets of disruption occurred and why in those particular areas – it  is probably any number of contributing factors – poverty, alienation, gang culture, consumerism, and the whole sense of being part of a ‘happening’.  That it was a destructive happening makes no real matter – anyone who remembers being young remembers how easy it is to get swept up in what everyone else is doing – not that all the rioters were young – and we all know the power of collectivity.  That power of collectivity, the buzz of being part of a ’happening’, of working together is why so many people were swept up in counter movements like Operation Cup of Tea, #riotcleanup or recirculating the video of that kickass woman in Hackney.  There is power in feeling part of something.  Feeling part of something can, even for a moment, cause alienation to cease and people to feel like they have some control – and whether that power is over the police because you can nick an iPad or a bag of basmati rice and no-one will catch you, or whether that power is over your community through cleaning up a mess that was caused – it’s still collective power.

Whatever the real causes of the protests (and we must not sweep under the carpet the issue of the shooting of Mark Duggan – whilst I am not anti-police, the Metropolitan Police, already under scrutiny because of #hackgate and still not trusted that much after the Jean Charles de Menezes fiasco, have some serious issues that need dealing with), they raise important questions – and these important questions are not really whether or not to shut down mobile phone networks or get out water cannons, David Cameron.  We have several generations of people who are disaffected – and this is not simply an “underclass” problem.  (How despicable that words such as underclass, feral, rats etc have been bandied about with no question by the way).  I am disaffected with many things in our society - and chances are so are you. 

This is not simply a problem of the Tories, or the coalition, or New Labour (and let’s not romanticise Old Labour either – the 1970s were not exactly a picnic).  It is a problem of a social, cultural and political system of obscene privilege.  A system where your place in society is largely determined by the place you were born and the family you were born into.  Any society that has a substantial private education system, that has huge discrepancies between the incomes of those at the top and those at the bottom, that cuts services that help the young, the elderly, the sick, the poor, that decides the arts, humanities, social sciences, maths and computing are not worth subsidising in education so that they potentially become the preserve of the rich once more, that allows whole generations to live in crumbling estates, give up on education and run amok and allows whole other generations to sip champagne as if it were tap water, avoid paying taxes because of some obscure loopholes and get into positions of power through nepotism and family connections is sick. 

But most of us sit in the middle of all this somewhere.  Most of us, if we’re honest (and we need to be honest), acknowledge that we quite like nice TVs and trainers and smartphones and if we could afford it, we’d drink champagne a bit more often than at the odd wedding.  Most of us wouldn’t want to work in Poundland on minimum wage if there’s any way we don’t have to.  Most of us would rather those people that do shitty jobs no-one else wants were paid more handsomely for their efforts, whilst those who sit on their arses atop of big corporations, gambling with our futures and bankrupting nations were, you know, paid less.  Or preferably put in jail.

Many of us are unhappy with the levels of inequality in our country, and in countries like ours.  We’re not necessarily happy with our political system that requires MPs to live a crazy lifestyle, away from their homes and constituencies for much of the week – even in this age of internet communications, and where they, and the heads of big corporations, can get into power through the privilege of being born in the right place.  (I know some ’make it on their own’ but these are the exception, not the norm.  We need a system that allows more exceptional people, from all walks of life, to become influential rather than one where the working-lower middle classes need to be at least 10x as exceptional as their upper-middle-upper class counterparts in order to succeed).

However, we’re British.  We’re not that comfortable with huge sweeing change.  We like our country – we would just like it to be better.  Many of us feel uncomfortable with the kind of violence that tends to accompany revolutions in other countries.  We might quite like revolution, but couldn’t it be a bit, well, more polite?  Well, if any country can effect a polite revolution it’s ours.  I don’t know how we could make it happen, or even if we could make it happen – but I get the feeling a revolution conducted over cups of tea and polite conversation is a far more acceptable idea to most of us than smashing things up – if only because our urge is then to tidy things up again afterwards.  So is there anything we can do?  We don’t have a constitution, so we can’t look there for ideas – but we have a medium in the internet to discuss these things.  The internet may not be the revolutionary paradise it’s been sometimes sold as, but it’s the best we’ve got.

We need to stop allowing politicians to co-opt things that are ours, such as #welovethenhs or #riotcleanup.  We need to find a new way.  I don’t know what that is, I don’t know if we really can change our political system, scrap (or reform, or pose a significant challenge to) the big three parties, change the wealth distribution in our society or any of these other things, but wouldn’t it be nice to know that we could at least have a proper conversation about these things, that wasn’t strangled by the means of voting for the least evil of a choice of political parties, none of whom we agree with on everything, that wasn’t limited to the odd petition or marches no-one pays attention to.  The riots got attention – but they didn’t give people a platform to speak – the rich rise up with fear and try to exert more control while the rest of us scream that making people more angry won’t help matters.  So let’s talk about this seriously people.  We need a #politerevolution.

Rain or shine?

Yesterday when it was late and I was hormonal, and the weather was dark and sticky and oppressive as it had been for days, and all I had in my head was this song:

my brain went, as it often does in these circumstances, to the important questions of life – in this instance, which weather has the best pop songs?

Sun has a fair amount going for it, particularly if you expand that to include summer - unless you remember that Belinda Carlisle then comes along and RUINS IT BY BEING IN BOTH CATEGORIES:

However, it has a bit of a reputation for cheese – not entirely fair, as the Manic Street Preachers and Soundgarden at least attempt to redress the reggae/pop vibe of the season with their efforts.  A good sun-related tune will put a smile on your face, guaranteed.  And even a bad one can be forgiven if the weather is right.

But then there’s rain.  On paper, it seems the more credible sibling, because cool music is always a bit depressing, so therefore sons about bleak weather should be incredibly hip.  Bitty McLean, however, might challenge that theory.

Some bands seem more disposed to one season or the other.  Roxette are clearly rain (The Rain, Waiting for the Rain, Watercolours in the Rain, Queen of Rain etc) although they do have June Afternoon, which is pretty much the most summery song you can get.  East 17 are also rain (Thunder, Let it Rain) whilst Ash, despite a song called Dark and Stormy (and Goldfinger referencing rain lashing down) are clearly sun (When we watched them at Tramlines, they played Walking Barefoot, Oh Yeah and something else referencing summer in a row, prompting my friend Kerry to remark on their fondness for the summer.  Kerry also pointed out that watching their set felt like being at Wimbledon. Every time they played some guitar wank, obscure song from their A-Z project or random Weezer cover that wasn’t of The Sweater Song, Buddy Holly or Pork and Beans, rather than, say, Angel Interceptor or Jesus Says, she wanted to say “Come on Tim”.  Kerry is ace). Elkie Brooks/Berri and Five Star remain somewhat neutral on the matter*.

Snow has a whole slew of Christmas music at its disposal, but other than that, there’s JJ72, and that’s about it.  And wind needs to up its stakes, as Wind Beneath My Wings and Wind of Change aren’t going to be enough to get it to the position of best weather in pop.

So, what do you reckon?  Sun or Rain?  Or does one of the lesser weather conditions have it?

To help you make up your mind, here are ten random songs (from off the top of my head, there’s no science here) to represent rain and sun.  Tell me which you think is the best pop weather season in the comments or on Twitter, or, if you’re Fiona, do a top 5!

Wet Wet Wet

The Sun-days

(Dare you to not mentally sing ‘have an Outspan, small ones are more juicy naturally’.  There, see.  You CAN’T.  Unless you’re young and don’t remember that advert of course)

*You could make a case that Elkie Brooks and Berri are pro-sun, but they don’t want any old sunshine, they wanna see the sunshine after the rain, which is a very specific type of sunshine, requiring precipitation first.  Therefore, I maintain they are fence-sitters.

What I learned from Tramlines 2011

For the uninitiated, Tramlines is Sheffield’s annual free music festival.  The 2011 event was its third, and biggest, with over 50 venues from the likes of the folk forest at Endcliffe Park, the Rude Shipyard and the Greystones outside of the centre, to a whole host of central venues, including the Millennium Galleries and the Cathedral alongside all the usual places. It was the first year I’d “done” Tramlines properly, having only managed the odd little thing previously.  This time I wanted to make as much of the weekend as possible, and here are the ten things I learned (and one I didn’t) from this year’s experience.

1. Take a spare mobile phone.  Or one with a super-duper battery.  Or one that works better than mine anyway.

Tramlines needed Twitter.  The #buskersbus, #tramlines and not-used-enough #tramlinestraffic hashtags were like my Bible for the weekend – updating you on what was happening where.  I was able to see where my friends were headed and post where I was.  Facebook was also useful for seeing where non-Twitter friends were at, and of course, text messaging was handy.  But my battery life is rubbish, and my phone has a tendency to crash when it thinks I’m making it do too much, as if it were a teenager I was pestering to do its homework.  So every single day, my phone died way before home time.  I did take the netbook out Saturday and Sunday but it looks a bit awkward to be getting that out in gigs, and it’s a bit fiddly to faff about with wifi and dongles and whatnot on that thing in crowded spaces.  A second mobile  would have helped.  Or, you know, a good one.

2. Domino’s pizza costs £7.99.  Or £5.  Or £3.  Or £2.  Depending on which day it is and where you are.

I have never seen so many people publicising one teeny-tiny shop before.  Everywhere you looked in town (seriously) there were people flyering for Domino’s, wearing huge pizza boxes, shouting about whatever deal they had going on through megaphones and, at some venues, selling pizzas.  The Domino’s on West Street (always busy anyway) is the size of a shoebox.  How they managed to employ all those people or keep all those pizzas coming is a mystery.  They were a bit annoying though.

3. Big news stories will break, but you’ll feel weirdly disconnected from it all in the Tramlines bubble.

Festivals and conferences always have that whole ‘bubble’ feel about them, don’t they?  However, usually that feeling is aided by you being away from home.  This festival was in Sheffield, with all the normal stuff about and you got to sleep in your own bed at night (if you were a local anyway.  Well, unless you were lucky/wasted enough to end up in someone else’s, I guess).  Even so, the ‘bubble’ vibe still took over, and the most pressing news of the day was always how busy each bar was, which toilet queue was the longest (fun facts  at the main stage, the busiest toilets were near the quietest bar and vice versa) and who might be playing secret gigs on the Buskers’ Bus.  Norway happened and you learned about it in fits and starts, through things popping up on Twitter or Facebook as you were checking for news on whether or not  you could get into your venue of choice, or through a quick flick on of the telly when you stumbled home late at night, not really able to take in the news.  Amy Winehouse died, and I discovered it via Twitter (of course) outside the Fat Cat tweeting about the wait for the Everly Pregnant Brothers to come out in the car park.  Every music festival has a celebrity death during its run, doesn’t it?  Several bands performed covers and ‘tributes’, some sincere, some less so, after the news came through.

4. SYPTE will do something idiotic like change all the bus routes and stops in a major way during the festival.

I saw a lot of confused people on High Street on Sunday evening as the travel meanies decided to baffle drunk people on the busiest weekend of the year by changing everything in a major way.  Sensible.

5. Think about what you wear.

There’s a rare breed of people who can do stylish and comfortable.  Some of these folk were out and about this weekend. However, the majority of us can only do one or the other – and if that’s you, do comfortable every time.  I saw far too many people trying to navigate Devonshire Green in impractical heels, shivering and soaking wet in Barker’s Pool because they hadn’t brought a coat or brolly, or sweating and smelling in a synthetic fabric in a sweaty pub.  I would say I got it right on Friday (outdoors all evening, warm but on and off rain = hoodie with T-shirt underneath for the warm bit earlier in the day, jeans, trainers, brolly) and Sunday (mix of outdoors and indoors, sunny = cropped combats, long T-shirt, comfy trainers, brolly in bag, thin cardigan, funky necklace) but wrong on Saturday (on feet all day, warm day, mix of outdoors and indoors = medium comfortable trainers, jeans, T-shirt, hoodie) where I was too hot and sticky and my feet hurt, plus I was nowhere near stylish enough for Tiger Works (which is a horrible venue).

Layers that are easy to put in a bag, very comfortable footwear and cropped trousers are probably your best bet, and sunglasses, a brolly, lip balm and suncream are advised.  I didn’t take my sun cream because it leaks (thanks for nothing, Boots’ Soltan spray) or sunglasses, because I’d broken them, and I regretted it.  It’a also worth taking a mini deodorant, and tissues in case you end up in one of the outdoor venues with portaloos.

This point also relates to the next two points…

6. Medium venues are your friend

Everyone wants to be at the main stage because that’s where the ‘names’ are.  Or they want to be in the small intimate pubs, because that’s where you hope to get the ‘vibe’.  But the main stage and the small venues all regularly packed out and had queues.  The medium venues, however (well, the ones I got to – didn’t make the 02 Academy, Leadmill etc) such as the Peace Gardens, Cathedral, City Hall Ballroom and HUBS had enough people to give a feeling of something happening, but not so many you felt like death.  I saw several acts at these venues, of varying quality, but the atmosphere was always great.  I heard this was also true of Heeley City Farm and the folk forest at Endcliffe Park, even from people who didn’t like the music – good venues, good vibe.  And, importantly, with all these venues, you generally got to have a sit down.  Which leads me to…

7. Plan loosely, not rigidly

On Saturday, I ended up leaving town at about 9pm because I hadn’t paced the day correctly, and my feet were killing me from being shoes that could have been more comfortable, and standing or walking the whole day.  I needed more sitting down in my day.  Sunday, I had a lot more sitting down and stayed out a lot longer.  This is where point 6 comes in handy.

Sitting/standing aside, it’s worth looking in the programme and having a vague idea of where you might like to go, otherwise the size and scale of the thing can overwhelm you and you’ll either wind up wandering aimlessly or staying rooted to one venue.  Give yourself a few options for each time slot, but be prepared for disappointment – several running orders changed, or venues were too full and people missed acts that way – best not to pin your hopes on anything, but to be flexible.  You won’t see everything you want to, you won’t see every “happening” (I missed some cracking “happenings” according to Twitter, but then I was at at least one such event and personally thought it was a bit meh so these things are all subjective anyway), so just enjoy wherever you end up.  Do move about a bit and try and take in a few venues, but don’t expect to get everywhere.  The best moments are the spontaneous silliness anyway (personal favourite: the huge crowd in the Fat Car park on a Sunday Saturday, eating bargainous burgers from the outdoor BBQ, drinking bottles from the Kelham Island brewery shop because the bar queue was too long, partying with the EPBs, pointing at the woman on the balcony and singing ‘Don’t You Want Me Baby’ to her).

I went down by myself every time, and though there were a few places where I’d pre-arranged to meet people, often I just turned up to a venue to see what was happening.  In all but one venue, I found people I knew there, and often that led to wandering on to the next venue with that group, and then going somewhere else by myself.  Don’t be afraid to go somewhere if you want to go and your mates don’t.  Plenty of people were going to stuff on their own, and it’s Sheffield, you’re bound to bump into someone.

8. The Buskers Bus is amazing

There were two routes running, and if I didn’t get so travel sick, it would have been fun just to ride around on the buses all weekend.  Most acts seemed to love doing the bus run, including some of the medium-sized “names”, and the atmosphere on the buses was great.  Don’t just go for acts you’ve heard of though (although I mainly went on buses where my mates were playing) – the small groups seemed just as fun.  I didn’t hear of one bus journey that wasn’t enjoyed.  20 minutes of your life you won’t regret.

9. Everyone wants it to go well

I’m sure there were scuffles and disruption at some points, but I didn’t see any – what I did see were security guards, police, bar staff, stewards, bands and festival goers all wanting a peaceful weekend.  There was booze everywhere, but it didn’t seem to be a problem, as long as people disposed of glass (and cans at some venues), they could bring their own or buy on-site (in the outdoor venues) and people seemed to behave themselves well for the most part.  All the security and police I saw were friendly and relaxed.  Again, there were probably exceptions, but the general rule was one of niceness and politeness.

10. Sheffield is amazing

Seriously.  From the rousing reception to the EPBs singing about the hole in the road and Hendo’s, to the visibility of people of all ages, races, abilities, sexualities (the same inclusive vibe as Pride the week before), to the range of musical genres on offer, to the sheer number and range of venues and businesses involved, to the sheer love for local bands as well as a warm welcome to those from elsewhere.  This was a festival that, yes, had some big corporate sponsorship, but also celebrated the small and local in a big way.  I love living in the biggest village in the world.

… and one thing I didn’t learn

1. Where on earth Bar 27 was

And I wasn’t the only one.  Everyone I spoke to was stumped, and I saw lots of people poring over the maps, which it wasn’t on, looking for it.  Obscure venues need to be clearly markedon the maps next year!

Anyway – I might talk more later about the actual bands and stuff, but for now, a huge, huge thanks to all involved.  It must have taken a tremendous amount of organising, and to put it all on for free, for us, for the sheer fun of celebrating music and celebrating Sheffield – it was a pleasure.

You’re amazing, just the way you are.

I am sick.  Really not well with whatever the current strain of virus is that has triggered a relapse of the bronchitis and ear/headache/dizziness stuff I was plagued with last year.  On top of that, the world is a mess, the country is a mess and so is pretty much every community and individual I know.  Many people are sick, and in a more ‘proper’ and significant way than I am.  We, as a community of friends, are grieving the loss of a child recently.  Many more people round the world are grieving right now.  Our city has staged protests this weekend about a government that is hurting its people – protests are taking place in countries all over the world with regimes they disagree with.  In all the protests there is maybe some hope (look at Egypt – not that I would dare to say our shitty government was anything like as bad as theirs) but there is a lot of struggle.  2011 has not gotten off to a good start all round.

So, time to have fun, right?  I’m enjoying the 30 day Song Challenge meme on Facebook at the moment, and, kind of inspired by something in last week’s Guardian guide, I thought it’d be fun to list the people that are currently making TV worth watching.

From ‘The Big C’: Cathy Jamison and Andrea Jackson

I’m mostly enjoying this show full stop, but I love Cathy’s snarkiness and Andrea, the smart-mouth student, particularly the way she recently delivered a kick-ass smackdown to Cathy’s whiny son.

From ‘Glee’: Sue Sylvester, Coach Beiste, Santana, Lauren Zizes and Becky

This show is ALL about the female supporting cast (with a sprinkling of Brittany and Mike Chang for good measure).  Will Schuester is a horrible, horrible person and many of the key New Directions mob could do with a slap, but inside the cheesy show there is a delicious undercurrent of awesome waiting to get out.

From EastEnders: Shirley and Jane

Apart from when they keep going back to Phil and Ian.  EastEnders overseas episodes are always rubbish but if they were to make a Jane’n'Shirl Thelma’n'Louise style road trip, I bet it’d be ace.  As long as they didn’t die, and instead the soap got cancelled and replaced with Jane’n'Shirl’s marvellous adventures.  Truly, they are not only too good for their men, they are too good for the Square.

From ‘Friends’: Monica and Chandler

Yeah, so Friends is over, but while E4 are still showing repeats (when does that end?  It must be soon) it’s worth being reminded just how good the show could be, and how right Monica and Chandler were.  Unlike Ross and Rachel, who were never a believable couple, Monica and Chandler are just, well, like a slightly-exaggerated version of the rest of us.

From ‘Nurse Jackie’: Jackie

Oh, she is awful, but we do love her.  Wonderful character, wonderful show.

From ‘Neighbours’: Callum and Kate

The first actual likeable teens in many a year?

From ‘Being Human’: The genius scriptwriters

I am DYING after last week’s episode.  Haven’t been so excited/nervous about a series finale since Ashes to Ashes.

More nice stuff please – favourite songs, shows, funny things – blog, tweet and Facebook the good stuff, because heaven knows we all need something to smile about.

Like the break of day, she takes my breath away

I figured out that in one way or another, I blog in at least ten places, maybe more, and sadly this one ends up being the most neglected of them all – what with Twitter and Facebook as well as all the other, specialist, blogs, it seems less and less relevant, though I like to have it here as a place to rant and rave from time to time.

Anyway, I’m popping over here to say I’m reviewing theatre bits and pieces over at Broadway World and am reviewing Racing Demon tonight, which I’m looking forward to, though I hope the Crucible main theatre isn’t quite as cold as the Lyceum and Studio have been in recent weeks.

Also, most importantly, Roxette have a new album, Charm School, out in Europe now and you can read my review of it over at Lowculture.  I am so glad to have them back.  My favourites are Speak to Me and No One Makes it On Her Own, both of which are hauntingly beautiful, and Big Black Cadillac which is just plain good fun.  It should hit the UK in about six or seven weeks but you can get it at Amazon.de, CDON and various other sites if you can’t wait.  I’d definitely advise the 2CD edition, though, with a live disc containing Silver Blue, Sleeping in My car, Listen to Your Heart, Things Will Never Be the Same and a load of other amazingness.

Right, must dash, three lectures, one seminar, three thesis chapters and a dissertation marking sheet to write…!