PEPPERMINT IGUANA

A taste of peppermint.. What's coming up this week

2012-01-08T18:43:00.004Z

Yes folks, 2012 is finally with us. There are various interpretations as to what might happen this year. Some believe the world will come to an end; some believe the Earth and its inhabitants may undergo a positive physical or spiritual transformation and that 2012 may mark the beginning of a new era; some believe that Cardiff City will be promoted to the premiership. The only thing that is certain is that the Peppermint Iguana Radio Show will carry on regardless – even if the world comes to an end.

NEXT PEPPERMINT IGUANA RADIO SHOW: 8PM, TUESDAY 10^TH JANUARY 2012.

Clint will be taking a break from his themes this week and will be catching up on some recently released tracks and a few gems that you may have missed in recent years that your life will not be complete without (and if the world is coming to an end we better get them in quick). His selection will include the blues rock of Aberdare’s Henry’s Funeral Shoe, funky 12 piece brass from Renegade Brass Band (playing a benefit for the Kebele Social centre this week), militantly work shy drum and bass (literally) from Sick Note, Colombian latin dub in the shape of Frente Cumbiero (thanks to our Colombian listener Gareth from bringing these to our attention), some old classic grunge rock from Clutch and Pitch Shifter and a special Balkan treat for our mate Tom who has been ill in Bulgaria since our last show.

The Artist Formerly known as Ginger John will be sticking with the tried and tested formula of classic hidden gems including reggae legends Steel Pulse , the Stranglers (need we say more?), ex Last Shadow Puppets and Rascals front man Miles Kane, classic PP Arnold, and the wacky Sultans of Ping FC, plus few newbies - including a demo hot off the mixing desk from The Bleeding Noses.

We will also be keeping you updated with the scores on the doors with Cardiff City Carling Cup Semi Final first leg against Crystal Palace – yes folks, that is how committed to you we are, we will be missing the game to keep the show coming at ya. Our man Blue Mist will be texting direct from the terraces (if we are feeling adventurous we might even risk a phone in!)

To listen to the show go to http://www.dapperfm.co.uk/ … we will be on from 8pm (that’s GMT for our international listeners). If you fancy tuning in a bit early though Steve Goodie, a fellow Cardiff City fan, will be playing some ‘bangin’ dance choons’ to warm you up from 6pm

For past play lists and stuff go to http://www.peppermintiguana.co.uk/radio.html

IGUANA RECCOMENDS.. Friday 13^th January, Black Swan Bristol - Renegade Brass Band, the Sporadics (punk/dub) and a French swing funk outfit called Fantazio (benefit for Kebele Social centre, Bristle) http://kebelesound.wordpress.com/

The Peppermint Iguana Radio Show number 7 : THE ONE THAT WENT PEAR SHAPED

2011-12-27T23:43:00.000Z

Well it had to happen sooner or later. After several weeks of being trusted to run the show without anyone else in the studio looking over our shoulder, the wheels finally came off – big time.

It started so well, we managed to get in to the studio without getting stuck up the chimney, we uploaded the necessary music in record time, the show was going like a dream then all of a sudden, with no explanation, it all went pear shaped and the computer started playing five different tunes at the same time before grinding to an unexpected halt. We still do not know what went wrong.

Eventually Eggy managed to get his pants back on, pull up his trousers and rush down to the studio to get things back on track – but only after going through a re-boot of the entire system (when we mess up, we mess up big time!).

We did manage to play over an hour of music before it went wrong, Clint continued with his theme of mates and John joined in the theme idea, playing a strictly reggae selection.

This is what we did play….

The Peppermint Iguana Radio Show number 6 THE INVITE YA MATES ROUND FOR A PARTY SHOW

2011-12-15T23:39:00.002Z

With the winter solstice almost upon us, this week Clint decided that he would be running with the theme of ‘invite ya mates around for a party’, and only played tracks by bands he knows personally. John, on the other hand, stuck to the tried and tested old skool favourites

PLAY LIST HERE

The Peppermint Iguana Radio Show number 5: THE STRIKE SPECIAL

2011-11-29T23:28:00.003Z

POWER TO THE PEOPLE: Yes folks, the country ground to a halt this week as two million public sector workers refused to go into work, manned picket lines, marched through town centres and did a bit of Christmas shopping in defence of their pensions. We here at Iguana HQ kicked things off early with an eve of strike radio show on Tuesday night and the track listing is as follows

This week we flew solo for the first time, with our illustrious studio manager and technical adviser needing to have a lie down following a hard day drinking and chasing ‘ginger birds’ at a funeral. it wont be long before we are totally self sufficient!

PLAY LIST HERE

The traditional difficult third show

2011-11-01T23:45:00.001Z

SHOW NUMBER THREE: Tuesday 1st November 2011. Despite dodgy headphones and a misplaced confidence to twiddle with knobs we should not be twiddling with, show three still managed to sound almost competent. A more disciplined approach to play listing meant we only had to cut two tracks of the show this week, but they will be slotted in to the next show.

We kicked off with a little tribute to John Peel who passed away seven years ago last week. Without him, all our play lists would be very different. We also paid tribute to him by making lots of technical mistakes in the show.

Play list here

SHOW TWO DONE AND DUSTED

2011-10-19T19:16:00.001+01:00

Well folks, that’s two shows under the belt and everything is starting to come together like a well oiled jigsaw. 'Learning curv'e is phrase of the week. A bit more rabbit between choons resulted in half a dozen tracks being lopped off the play list as we progressed, but lessons are being learnt – although John is still forgetting to shut down the mikes after the music has started.

Don’t know about you, but we are enjoying it and starting to wish we were doing it every week. Too many tunes, too little time and all that. We have some interesting requests in that we are going to fit into the show over the next few weeks, but they are going to have to fit in with the stuff we want to play, that is after all why we are doing it!

If you check out the radio page on the Iguana website, you will see we have already uploaded the play list from this week, which contains links to find out more about any of the bands featured.

I am going to try to start concentrating on unsigned/self released stuff, whilst John is going to stick to playing from the archives. Although I am sure temptation will result in the odd variance from this.

NEXT SHOW: 1ST NOVEMBER

The Peppermint Iguana Radio Show launches

2011-10-04T23:56:00.003+01:00

PEPPERMINT IGUANA RADIO SHOW SUCCESS SHOCK. Well, nobody expected that, the Peppermint Iguana Radio Show burst into cyber space on 4th October like a drunk coming out of a pub, stumbled, got up then ran and ran sobering up as it went. We managed to break the station record for listeners (no, not the least listeners, the most) and we ended the evening with a big high five (although Eggy messed up the news link at the end - amateur) Face book is dead, long live having real friends!

Was this a one off though, with people tuning in just cos it was the first show? Will people come back or be scared off? Will it sky rocket and get head hunters from big radio stations looking for us to sign us up, or will we have head hunters from Penywaun looking for us to beat us up?

SO WHAT DID WE PLAY? We now have a page set up on the Peppermint Iguana website that gives details of when the next show is and what we played on the last show and answers all the other questions you might not have. Go to www.peppermintiguana.co.uk/radio.html

THE NEXT SHOW IS THIS TUESDAY (18th October) FROM 8pm TILL 10pm. We are a little more organised this time and the play list will feature, among others, Dubrovnik, Tarantism, Tattsyrup, Bleedin’ Noses, Joe Gibbs, Major Lance, the Ethiopians, the Damned, King Blues, Crisis and Dub Trio. With first night nerves over and done with, we might even talk to each other. If you have any gig dates you want us to plug, let us know before Tuesday. Or failing that, e-mail us during the show studio@dapperfm.co.uk

CAN’T WAIT TILLTHE 18TH? We are not the only show on Dapper FM you know, drop by and show some love for other DJs http://www.dapperfm.co.uk/

Cosmo's strikes again

2011-08-01T19:58:00.002+01:00

Oh! To Be In England (Now the EDL's in Town)

Goldie Lookin Chain Strike Again

2011-07-17T08:58:00.000+01:00

Captain Ska Strikes Again!

2011-07-09T12:36:00.003+01:00

Captain Ska strikes again with his third anti-cuts single. This time he looks back to the last Tory government and has a feeling of dejavu.

For those that have missed, his previous singles are here

follow him on TWITTER

40 ODD OF ANOTHER KIND: Otway and Barret hit Cardiff

2011-06-08T23:22:00.009+01:00

In 1977, Polydor released ’20 of Another Kind’, a sampler of the then new phenomenon of punk rock – or new wave at it was then sometimes acceptable to be called. Hidden amongst bands like 999, the Lurkers and Sham 69 were two tracks by a gangly misfit known as John Otway and his then sidekick Wild Willy Barret.

The two tracks were the A and B side of the single ‘Really Free’ and ‘Beware of the Flowers cos I’m Sure they’re Gonna Get You’. This single sky rocketed into the charts, back in the days when the charts meant something, to the giddy height of number 27.

Although this was a punk compilation, Otway and Barret were hardly from the classic punk mould – although the spirit of rebelliousness, originality and rule breaking seeped from every chord. The single had ‘novelty record’ or even ‘one hit wonder’ written all over it and it was clear this was not going to be a ‘band’ that would last – or was it?

Punk rock came and went. Then we had post punk, mod and ska revivals, rave, grunge, brit pop, jungle, big beat and all manner of music trends that came and went, scrubbing the decks of the good ship rock and roll clean before setting out on their own voyage. Yet through all of this the unlikely pop star that was Otway clung on to the mast and weathered all musical storms that were thrown his way. He has never given up and has been touring constantly – although the name of the bloke that stands next to him on stage has changed several times.

Never quite equalling that early chart promise he steadily built up a cult following that eventually decided to give him a second hit for his 50^th birthday by all appearing on one of his singles singing backing vocals and then getting their families to go out and buy it – thus hyping it into the charts.

Tonight, 34 years after that first hit and 40 years since his first gig, he is back with his old partner in crime, Wild Willy, and touring the nation once more.

As we enter Cardiff’s Globe, we find them both, not quite propping up the bar – but very close to it. After a quick introduction we head backstage for a chat bout the mad mad world that is Otway. We talk of crazy publicity stunts - like going around peoples houses to perform his single Frightened and Scared, getting his fans to vote his lyrics as the seventh best lyric of all time, and an attempt to tour the world taking his whole fan club with him in a chartered jumbo jet.

(Interview to be uploaded to Iguana website shortly).

After some more bar propping up and dealing with autograph hunters, he and Willy eventually take to the stage to entertain the gathered masses.

It is difficult to classify an Otway show. Part pop concert, part comedy show, part cabaret act – the whole thing just rips up the rule book and takes the audience on a death defying thrill ride.

The return of the prodigal Wily makes for a special vibe. He is the ying to Otway’s yang; his dry cynicism and lack of respect for Otway’s genius is matched only by Otway’s own self depreciation; his rack of many instruments, including balalaikas, banjos, guitars, fiddle, bagpipes and a wheelie bin, make up for Otway’s acoustic guitar and a Theremin; his nonchalant take everything in his stride attitude counters Otway’s undiminished child like enthusiasm and his mastery of any instrument he cares to pick up nicely compliments Otway’s – erm – enthusiasm.

The on stage rapport between them is pure comedy gold, Willy’s straight man bouncing off Otway’s court jester. It is such a good match it is difficult to comprehend how Otway has managed without him – although it has to be said he managed quite well – hence the cult following.

Tonight Barret manages to impress with fret board trickery, amaze with playing guitar and bagpipes at the same time and amuse with sawing a guitar in half and smashing it with a hammer – while still playing it (even Hendrix had to stop playing his guitar down when destroying it). Oh, and there was the wheelie bin thing – but I don’t want to spoil it for when you go to see them.

Of course Willy is only half the act. Despite the self depreciation and jolly japery, Otway is something of a lyrical genius - who else could come up with “Natasha you're a smasher but you're working for Russia" - and despite the comic approach to everything, what he does with the Theremin is actually very clever. You don’t get to fill the Albert Hall if you are crap as he makes himself out to be – which he aint.

There have been books, rock operas (Cheryl) and fan club trips to Dunkirk. What next? Otway the movie (we kid you not). Watch this space.

*Please note, no microphones were headbutted in the making of this blog

Martin Harley Band - Drum rolls and green rooms

2011-05-07T23:10:00.002+01:00

Our first encounter with the Martin Harley Band was six or seven years ago, late at night, at a festival. The Larmer Tree was shutting down for the night, all the stages had closed down, the last of the revellers were off to bed and we were sat watching the food stalls closing up trying to squeeze what we could out of what was left of the night. Just as we were coming to the conclusion the night was over, three buskers turned up with a guitar, double bass and a cocktail drum kit. For the next hour we were served up a healthy portion of delta blues that made sure we went to bed happy.

Little did we know, this impromptu busking session would be the first of many gigs we would catch and that the Iguana CD collection would soon have to find a new section for the MHB.

Fast forward to 2011 and we are in very different circumstances – the plush and arty surroundings of The Courtyard in Hereford, where the latest incarnation of the Martin Harley Band are to entertain the local bohemians. We arrive early to interview the band are invited into the green room to chill with the warm and friendly Martin.

We talk of slide guitars, living in cars, surfing in Australia, touring by bicycle, playing the highest gig in the world, touring Mali, chilling in Barbados, stoner rock, independent record labels and playing the Rive Cottage for Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. He is down to earth and ego free. While we do the best to squeeze as much as possible out of a night, he is squeezing as much as possible out of life – and doing a pretty good job of it.

Then its time for the show. I use the word ‘show’ deliberately. The bar and the auditorium are separate – with no drinks allowed while watching the band - mobile phones must be switched off and the seating is ‘cinema’ or ‘theatre’ style. There is even a planned intermission. A ‘gig’, this is not.

This sort of set up is probably the most sterile way of seeing a band and in the past we have refused to put up with this sort of thing. It’s unnatural – like sitting down to watch football. However, it does tend to focus one’s attention on the stage and when you do that, the MHB reward you with a finely balanced serving of roots, blues, soul and jazz.

Sat down, often with his slide guitar on his lap, Martin and his band are able to create a relaxed and intimate atmosphere. Most of the songs are personal tales and the audience are invited into the world of carefree globe trotting with a surfboard in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

Between numbers we get chat and an interaction between band and audience that adds to the intimacy of the event. I have to grudgingly admit that the fact that everyone is sat politely adds to this atmosphere.

We get a selection of numbers from throughout the bands back catalogue and as the show progresses some of the more rebellious audience members get up and shake their thang in the isles.

Whilst it is the Martin Harley Band, the rest of the band are not exactly extras. Pete Swatton occasionally ditches the drums to play the balalaika (yes, a drummer that is also a musician) and Jay Carter has a rest from propping up his double bass to play guitar. Both add backing vocals throughout and the chemistry between the three makes the band much more than the sum of its parts.

Finally we get a version of Voodoo Chile that is both a nod to Martin’s love of heavier sounds and a demonstration of what can be done with a slide guitar. Even tea loving buskers can be a power trio when they put their mind to it.

Creation Records - the movie

2011-05-05T23:42:00.005+01:00

If you grew up in the 1980s and early 90s, liked guitar music, read the Melody Maker or the NME (ah – the good old days, when the NME was a publication worth reading) or paid the slightest bit of attention to what was going on beyond the mainstream; then you knew about Creation Records.

They certainly weren’t the first indie label, they probably weren’t the best (although that is open to debate), but they were definitely one of the most successful. Many of the bands on their roster would never become household names or get day time airplay, but with few exceptions they all had a devoted cult following.

With an A&R policy of signing bands that were good, as opposed to potential money makers, there was always a danger that catastrophe was only around the corner. But somehow Alan McGee, founding director, had the fortune of signing many of the era’s defining bands. Jesus and Mary Chain, Primal Scream, House of Love, Sugar, Super Fury Animals, My Bloody Valentine and eventually the colossus that would become Oasis, were all products of the Creation label.

Upside down, the story of the label, features interviews – both contemporary and archive – with all the movers and shakers in the Creation story. We also get live footage from the days when Indie actually meant Independent, rather than a style of guitar music.

Run, on the whole, by amateur music fans who just wanted to have fun, get laid and take lots of drugs, they achieved success despite – rather than because of – their passion for music and no time for compromise. Based in a nondescript office in north London, day to day life was more like a 24 hour party than a business and new bands were generally stumbled upon when out on the pull.

This warts and all documentary skips through the history of the label, from the formation, the early releases and the growing successes; through the glory years as the mainstream embraced the underground and Tony Blair embraced Brit Pop, to financial melt down, drug excess and the realisation – as Oasis played Knebworth – that the removal from the real world that comes with mega stardom aint all fun.

Tonight, as the film gets it’s welsh premier in Cardiff’s Chapter Arts, McGee drops in for a Q&A session. He comes over as a passionate music lover that has been through the industry ringer and come out older, wiser and with his feet re-planted firmly on terra-firmer. He is entertaining, witty and contented with his lot, having now settled in Hay on Wye.

As the evening closes, we top it off with free drinks in the foyer – no need to withdraw from the highlife completely!

THE Q&A

Generation Xerox - london Zine Symposium 2011

2011-04-17T23:26:00.003+01:00

If there is one aspect of underground culture that personifies the DIY ethic, it is zines. Since the dawn of punk and beyond, enthusiasts have been writing, laying out, publishing and distributing their own publications totally outside the traditional mainstream channels. The London Zine Symposium, therefore, seems like the perfect opportunity to get back into the habit of blogging (again).

So, this morning, with the sort of head you can only get when up at the crack of dawn the day after a gallon of Taffy Apple celebrating a Cardiff City victory, I delicately climbed into the Iguana-mobile and headed for the bus station. After a quick flick through my in car CD collection, I opted for the Desperate Bicycles, the quintessential DIY punk band, as the sound track to my journey – very appropriate for the day I thought.

A few short hours later I was stepping out of Aldgate East tube station and heading in the direction of Brick Lane. Deep in the heart of the East End, brick lane is like walking down the curry equivalent of Amsterdam’s red light district. The street is full of curry pimps trying to entice you inside their restaurant, desperate to convince you their food is the best in town. Many have signs outside like ‘once featured on a TV programme about good curry houses’, or ‘winner of the best restaurant ever to have been opened at 84 brick lane’.

Twas not always thus though. It was once the centre a centre for the weaving, tailoring and the clothing industry, and played host to a large Jewish community. Today I would have the opportunity to link both these strands of the area’s past, the Zine Symposium was being held in a former rag factory and in the afternoon they would be hosting a walk around Brick Lane’s radical history, taking in sites where Jewish radicals and anarchists had risen up in rebellion.

I had to find the place first though. Having not been to an event (quite) like this before, I anticipated lots of literate punks hunting down punkzines like Sniffing Glue or Maximum Rock and Roll – all I had to do was keep an eye out for a stream of punks heading into a rag factory.

Fortunately there were signs at the end of the alley pointing me in the right direction, because there was a distinct lack of punkyness about attendees, in fact, most did not look in the slightest bit ‘alternative’. Then again, sporting a full beard and a ‘built for comfort rather than speed’ physique, it is a long time since I looked alternative.

Entering the old factory, the first stall I came across (after the home made cake stall) was run by the Last Hours posse – quite possibly the best zine I have come across in the last ten years. I interviewed the main man, Ed, a few years back as research into the DIY scene. He was not around though and the stall was being run by two charming young ladies that were much better looking than him. They had a nice selection of zines and some interesting books, including ‘Soccer –v- State’, which I would end up purchasing before the day was out, despite the American terminology for the beautiful game.

As is the way with these things, I was determined to suss out exactly where everything was, then slowly work my way around again spending more time on the more interesting stalls. This did not take long though, as the event was a little smaller than I had expected – although big enough to have a nice mix.

Zines come in many shapes and sizes and cover a huge range of topics. Most of the zines that have caught my attention in the past have been music related, with the odd footyzine chucked in – but today, football and music were in short supply, the stalls around the old workshop being covered in everything from anarcho-feminism to art and cookery, from wordy books to graphic novels, from photocopied pamphlets to professionally printed limited editions.

Active Distribution were in the ‘hood, with their awesome selection of books, zines and music, along side a myriad of zine distros that seem to have been born, grown up, started a family and been thriving quite nicely without me ever having head of them.

I mingled, swapped a few zines, strategically left a few peppermint Iguana’s lying around, went back and bought the football book, filled up on a falafel in the Anarchist Teapot kitchen, treated myself to a slab of chocolate orange cake and hung about to attend the ‘Throwing Zines at Thatcher’ workshop – which was cancelled. The twisted hand of fate led me in the direction of a zine about the Desperate Bicycles, which had to be bought – much to the surprise of the guy running that particular stall.

Eventually, rather than hang about for the ‘Radical Brick Lane’ thing, I took it upon myself to explore the area on my own. On a Sunday Brick Lane is home to several markets – a sort of mini Camden town, but with more street cred and less tourists – this is after all, pwoppa east end.

Nestled in the old Truman Brewery is Rough Trade East, the bigger of London’s two legendary Rough Trade shops. Starting out as a ground breaking independent shop, then moving on the become a respected independent label, the fortunes of the Rough Trade have been a roller coaster ride through cult status, bankruptcy, being bought out by BMG and becoming an Independent again.

Rough Trade East opened in 2007 and is more than just a shop, they sell coffee, put on gigs and it is generally a place where people want to hang out, not just buy music. It is clean and modern and – well – to put it bluntly, trendy. CDs and books are not cheap by any stretch of the imagination. They do have a half decent selection on sale, but it is a far cry from the old DIY ethos. It’s a dog eat dog world though, so if this is how they have to survive, good luck to them.

Down at the other end of Brick Lane, next to the Aldgate East tube station, is the Whitechapel Art Gallery. Today the main exhibition is something that appears to be made out of broken doors and the floor is littered with lovelies waiting to watch someone prance around the sculpture. I opt to head upstairs and check out an exhibition of photographs of old Brick Lane from the 1970s, around the time the Jewish population were starting to be outnumbered by Asians.

When looking around the gallery bookshop, I find a section dedicated to DIY art, street art and such like. Ironically, most of the books are of a size that would threaten the legs of the sturdiest of coffee tables, and a price tag that compares to the national deficit. Clearly, no matter what the motives of those producing DIY art, there is no shortage of people wanting to exploit it and even attempt to mainstream it – which is sort of missing the point I think.

I can’t leave Whitechapel without popping in to see the posse in Freedom Press, London's leading anarchist bookshop. The place seems to go from strength to strength every time i visit, “We do quite well on a Sunday,” Andy informs me. “The gallery is open so we get lots of silly fuckers coming in to buy postcards and talk about how quaint anarchism is.” Quite. I steal some postcards and talk about how quaint art galleries are – then head for home.

For antother review of the event, with lots more pictures, go to Amelia's Zine

While we are at it, just found the story of rough trade on Youface, so here it is for your entertainment

STORY OF ROUGH TRADE PART ONE

STORY OF ROUGH TRADE PART TWO

STORY OF ROUGH TRADE PART (YOU GUESSED IT) THREE

Under the Pavement

2010-08-29T19:29:00.005+01:00

"Under the Pavement" is a community radio station based in Manchester that reports on direct action and grass roots resistance in the Manchester area. Although we aint Mancunians, for the last few weeks we have bee walking around listening to their podcasts on our MP3 player, soaking up interviews with the likes of King Blues, the Autonomads, Chomsky All Stars, Zounds and many more.

They have been on a break for the summer but will be back on 2nd September with Steve Ignorant, of Crass fame. Tune in, turn on and throw shit. Go to www.underthepavement.org

Baka Beyond Interview

2010-08-29T17:33:00.005+01:00

Since 1993 Martin Craddick and his wife Su Hart have been deeply involved with the Baka people of Cameroon. They have sampled them, made music with them, made music inspired by them, recorded them in the rain forests and created an amazing back catalogue of genuinely afro-celtic music. In the process they have helped the Baka, promoted their cause, built a music house with them, helped them build a school, taken them on tour and put on a festival in Cameroon.

Baka Beyond, the musical project that has grown from all this, is undoubtedly unique. Not just doing the odd benefit for the Baka, helping the forest people has been the band’s Raison d'être for seventeen years. But they are not just people with a good heart, they are also bloody good musicians who put on a damn fine show. We sat down earlier this year for a chat with Martin. It would be impossible to cover everything they have done in the last two decades, but we hope it will whet your appetite and set you off on a journey to find out more.

Billy Bragg Interview

2010-08-18T17:45:00.002+01:00

Blogging presents a bit of a conundrum. To have anything interesting to write about, you need to be doing things. But if you are doing things, you don’t have time to blog. Hence this 'ere blog being dormant throughout the summer. If we get a chance we will try to upload some post-dated tales about some of the major things, like festivals, cars breaking down and trips to Wembley. In the mean time, we thought we should let you know we have today updated the website with an interview with Mr Billy Bragg.

Now Mr Bragg is not someone we have paid a lot of attention to in recent years. Back in the 80s we regularly went along to gigs and bought his music; he was a breath of fresh air, he was original, he was funny, his heart was in the right place and he was – well, a good bloke. Over the years though he sort of drifted from being ‘alternative’ to being ‘mainstream’. I don’t particularly recall a point when we stopped listening to him, we just did. One minute he was doing miners benefits in pubs for a fiver and getting played on John Peel, the next he was doing sold out shows in art centres for considerably more than a fiver and appearing on Question Time.

Now there is nothing wrong with art centres and Question Time, it is just that it is territory we don’t usually hang around in (well, not much anyway). Being involved with trade unions and left wing politics he has never been far from our consciousness though. Comrades in the union that rarely go to gigs make the effort for him and whilst we don’t go to see him any more it is easier to have a conversation about Billy Bragg than it is the Tofu Love Frogs.

Earlier on this year we went along to see ‘Breaking Rocks’, the film about Bragg’s project, ‘Jail Guitar Doors’, which takes guitars into prison as a tool for rehabilitation. Our interest in the man briefly went up a notch. Clearly he still has a heart and is interested in developing new talent and helping those less fortunate than himself.

Then there was the election, and he seemed to be turning up all the time talking about the BNP.

Then he turned up at UNISON conference to talk about defending the public sector, fighting the cuts and the possibility of a Robin Hood Tax. We just cannot get away from the bloke.

As it happens, we were at UNISON conference working on some press stuff for the Wales region. Just after he had spoken to conference the press co-ordinator came into the room and asked if we would like to interview Billy, she had arranged for him to be available, but had not arranged for anyone to interview him.

And so it was, we found ourselves sat in a corner of the Bournemouth International with Billy and about a dozen other UNISON amateur journalists. We were told we could have a maximum of one question each and I began to despair when the first question was ‘if you could bring in one law, what would it be?’ Amazingly though, he managed to respond to what we snobbishly thought was a pretty unimaginative question with an extremely imaginative answer. And so it went, no matter how boring the questions, his answers were always articulate, thought provoking and entertaining.

It is easy to see now why he gets invited to speak about a wide range of subjects that one would not normally consider to be matters you would want a ‘pop star’s’ opinion on. The guy is far deeper than we had given him credit for and is an all round nice bloke. How could we not give him space on our website?

Go here and check the man out. Find out more about the Robin Hood Tax, love Music Hate racism and Jail Guitar Doors.

EXIT THROUGH THE GIFT SHOP

2010-04-26T22:35:00.005+01:00

“Banksy is a sell out”. So reads the graffiti scrawled across the wall. Is this true? Well, he has certainly progressed from being an unknown street artist to an internationally renowned (all be it still anonymous) street artist that can put on sell out exhibitions, shift books by the shed load and – now – make his own films.

Exit Through the Gift Shop is, on the face of it, a documentary made by Banksy about a guy that tried to make a film about Banksy but messed it up so Banksy made a film about him. There is no point getting too bogged down in the plot because to be honest, it is difficult to tell if it is a genuine documentary or if it is another one of Banksy’s magnificent pranks.

Narrated by Rhys Ifans we are taken on a journey through underground street art with a host of graffiti artists, guerrilla stencil painters and pranksters. Whilst Banksy is the highlight of the film, it is clear he is not alone with numerous creative subversives making an appearance in this roller coaster ride that has you grinning, admiring, and on occasion down right laughing, for 87 minutes.

Whilst this is based in ‘underground’, DIY, street art; many of Banksy’s pranks are clearly not cheap. Some punk with a spray can he is not. We get telephone boxes bent in half, giant spray cans and exhibitions with live elephants painted like flock wall paper. Where the money for all this comes from is never explored. A trip to across the Atlantic to do a bit of graffiti is taken for granted, as if it is the most natural thing in the world.

Most of his antics are clearly beyond the pockets of 99% of street artists, but does that really matter? His blend of satire, art, humour and subversion has simultaneously given the art establishment and street art a kick up the rear end. Art is supposed to be about originality, so we don’t want loads of copy cats, but if it inspires kids to do a bit more than just inane tags on bus stops and brightens up our streets then surely that is no bad thing.

Fair play to him though, despite his global fame he appears to have stuck to his roots. His website declares:

"Banksy does not endorse or profit from the sale of greeting cards, mugs, tshirts, photo canvases etc. Banksy is not on Facebook, Myspace, Twitter or Gaydar. Banksy is not represented by any form of commercial art gallery. All images are made available to download for personal amusement only, thanks."

These are not the words of someone who has sold out

What impact this thought provoking film will have on movie making is difficult to tell, but at the moment that is not important, all that matters is that it does what all good films should do, entertain, inspire and agitate. If you don’t leave the cinema after seeing this film eying up a bit of blank wall you have no soul.

AND FINALLY….

If you like Banksy, you will love Mutate

Britain

, the latest project from the Mutoid Waste Disposal Company. And they be coming to Newport in August!!

DJ FARRAPO

2010-04-26T19:33:00.010+01:00

Italy's mighty DJ Farrapo has some new tracks you really ought to check out. Here at Iguana HQ we love his funky mix of deep house, latin sounds, nu-swing, drum and bass, balkan beats and .... just check them out and make your own mind up

Here be a player where you can listen to some of his newest stuff for free, gratis, nout .... but i am sure he wont mind if you decided to buy.

(Oh, and the last track is an awesome twenty minute mix you can download for free, bung on your MP3 player then get strange looks as you dance down the road).

Latest tracks by DJ FARRAPO

for more info he can be found on Myspace at http://www.myspace.com/djfarrapo

A JOURNEY TO THE BAKA BEYOND

2010-04-23T23:32:00.013+01:00

Every now and again I hear something that grabs me by the scruff of the neck and I gets me gagging to hear more. It could be background music on the telly, something a DJ is playing in a club, something on the stereo in a shop, grooves belting out of a passing car, or something that pops up in the middle of a mix tape. Sometimes it drives me insane and it takes weeks, months, even years to find out what it is.

Sometimes it is easy. The radio is probably easiest because usually - though not always - someone tells you what it is when it has finished. I have lost count the number of times I have sat in the car long after I have reached my destination just to hear the DJ tell me what I have been listening to. In a club it could be easy, but going up to ask the DJ is just not cool; although there have been occasions when cool has gone out the window and I have been compelled to ask.

The interweb has made things easier; if it is a movie soundtrack you can Google it and if there are lyrics you can punch random bits of lyric you remember into a search engine. Obviously the latter does not work with dub, techno, foreign language stuff - or eighty percent of punk rock.

Sometimes it just leads to disappointment. For instance, Chaiyya Chaiyya Bollywood Joint was recently tracked down via the internet after watching the film Inside Man. I had hoped this awesome track was going to lead me to similar stuff but it is totally unrepresentative of Terence Blanchards work - the trail ended there.

Then again, sometimes it can be the start of an amazing journey. When I first heard John Peel playing Zion Train’s A Passage to Indica I had no idea that it would lead to me interviewing the band, getting to be mates with them, going to see them live all over the country and them introducing me to a host of other contacts that I now consider to be close mates.

Another journey started off innocently. In the summer of 1990 a haunting sound seemed to follow me around every festival I went to. It was a simple sound, just an acoustic guitar and a didgeridoo (this was before every man and his dog on a string got into didges). It seemed to be playing in cafes and on PAs everywhere. Then, walking though a field in Bala at a travellers free festival I heard it coming out of a ghetto blaster so walked over to the campfire and asked what it was. Thus I discovered Outback and fell in love.

Sadly the love affair was doomed to fail, Outback split in 1991 after releasing just two albums.

Graham Wiggins, the Oxford born solid-state-physics lecturer who had been responsible for Outback's antipodean vibe, went on to form Dr Didg and released seven albums under that guise before going back to teaching in Boston.

Meanwhile guitarist Martin Craddick and his partner Su Hart, inspired by a TV documentary, visited the Baka tribal people of the Cameroon forests. So inspired were they by the magical rhythms and melodies of the Baka people, that they recorded an album "Spirit of the Forest" under the name Baka Beyond. This was closely followed by “Heart of the Forest” an album featuring the music of the Baka Pygmies themselves, recorded by Martin on a Sony Discman pro.

Baka Beyond did not just take inspiration from the Baka, profits from the CDs were used to help the tribes people back in Cameroon. This in itself was a pretty unusual, but it did not stop there. The band became a permanent set up playing festivals and gigs all over the world and eleven albums on they are still feeding the profits back into Cameroon.

Originally made up of British musicians the band soon expanded to take in musicians from Brittany, Cameroon, Senegal, Sierra Leone and Ghana, creating what is truly an ‘Afro-Celt’ sound.

Since that first visit in 1993, Martin and Su have been back to the jungle many times and have become part of the community. They have helped with many projects, including building a music house, putting on a UK tour for the Baka themselves, and organising a festival, Under The Volcano, to coincide with the end of a rally by the Adventurists.

Now they are back in the UK and touring. With band members spread all over the world getting the full band together can be expensive, so they now have several line ups. Tonight, in Pontardawe, we have a five piece line up including Molara - ex Zion Train – small world ! (although I would not like to paint it).

Molara was actually good enough to set us up with Martin for an interview before the gig. Interviews can be awkward on times, often we find ourselves hanging around for ages whilst sound checks are done, beers are drunk, old acquaintances renewed, noses picked and eventually, hopefully, an interview will happen. Tonight there is no such messing about; we land, Molara hands us a beer out of the ice bucket and we wander out into what is left of the sun and chat with Martin for half an hour. We hang on every word, fascinated by tales of music, forests and travel. We might have had an interesting journey since first discovering Outback in a sunny field in Bala, but Martin has been on a journey that we could only dream about.

Oh, and then there was a gig ….. review to follow.

Expect the interview to appear on the Iguana website soon. For Peppermint Iguana's Molara Interview click here

Baka Beyond website
Baka Beyond on YouTube
Global Music Exchange - charity set up to support the Baka tribe

TJs closes door for final time

2010-04-20T19:48:00.002+01:00

The world famous music venue, Newport’s TJs, has closed its doors for the final time. Following the death of owner John Sicolo recently, his daughter has decided that it is not financially viable to keep the venue open.

For the last two decades or so it has been an essential stopping place for touring bands on their way from the gutter to the stars (and occasionally on the way back). The Buzzcocks, The Beat, Catatonia, Chumbawamba, Clutch, Conflict, Cornershop, The Cranberries, The Damned, Echo & The Bunnymen, Elastica, Fugazi, Goldblade, Gorky's Zygotic Mynci, Green Day, Inner Terestrials, The Lemonheads, Manic Street Preachers, Misfits, Mogwai, New Model Army, NOFX, No Means No, Oasis, Offspring, P.A.I.N., Primal Scream, Rancid, RDF, Selecter, Shed Seven, Skunk Anansie, Snuff, Joe Strummer, The Subhumans, Supergrass, Test Department, Therapy?, The Tofu Love Frogs, UK Subs, Voodoo Glow Skulls and The Wedding Present are just a few of the touring bands that have set foot on the TJs stage.

On top of that you can add literally thousands of local bands like The Cowboy Killers, Dub War, 60 Foot Dolls, Novocaine, Flyscreen, Rectify, Four Letter Word and The Terrorist Ballet Dancers from Hell.

Legend has it that Kurt Cobain went down on one knee and proposed to Courtney Love in the club when she played there with Hole in 1991.

The walls of the ‘John Peel Bar’ area of the club are covered in photos of many of the bands that have played there. Pride of place goes to pictures of owner John Sicolo picking up an award at the Brits.

Apparently the club had been in financial difficulty for some time, and solicitors dealing with the estate have advised his daughter Rachel to sell.

It would be a cliché to say that Newport will not be the same without TJS… but the fact is, South Wales will not be the same without TJs and Newport will be a poorer place for its loss.

INTERNATIONAL INDEPENDENT RECORDS STORE DAY 2010

2010-04-17T18:57:00.009+01:00

"If you walk down street Oxford Street, you do not see niche record stores among the chains. We warned Mr Todd [Spillers Records] that he is standing in the way of progress. The rent in their present location will at some point be unaffordable." The words of Michael Brown, Investment Director, Helical Bar, the owners of the land on which Spillers records stands. This was back in 2007 when he was trying to shut the place down. Fortunately it has had a reprieve following a high profile campaign which had support local politicians, pop stars - and you.

Shame on you Mr Brown. You are the epitome of money grabbing capitalist development with no concept of individuality; you are symptomatic of the mentality that has led to town centres from Lands End to John O Groats being filled with the same chain stores selling the same goods in high streets that look exactly the same. You suck the soul out of towns and leave them bereft of character.

It’s not even a concept that makes commercial sense; if all towns are the same, what unique selling points do they have to attract consumers? Why would I go to Cardiff rather than Newport, Sw*nsea or Bristol? Why even bother with a town, why not an out of town shopping centre?

In fairness, there are many that love the world that the likes of Mr Brown is trying to create; Cardiff is now ranked as the sixth most popular shopping destination in the UK. The humongous St David’s Two development is responsible for this. It is a huge glass and steel cathedral for those that want to worship consumerism, filled with chain stores, dominating the city centre and making the old Hayes Island now feel quite claustrophobic. It was completed some time last year, I have yet to set foot in it, I have no intention of setting foot in it, it puts me off going into the town centre, it leaves me cold.

In the shadow (literally) of this twenty first century shrine to mammon lies Spillers, the oldest record store in the world, marking the entrance to one of Cardiff’s Victorian arcades, full of non-chain niche stores. This is why I rather shop in Cardiff than Sw*nsea or an out of town retail village. It defiantly stands in opposition to the malignant expansion of malls (and the sort of people who use the word mall)

.I am not adverse to a bit of downloading or internet shopping, but at the end of the day there is no substitute for standing in a decent record shop rooting through the racks looking for something and happening across something new.

I look through the dividers marking out the bands with back catalogues, then sift through the CDs by lesser bands simply filed under letters of the alphabet. If I am after something in particular I might have to check under different categories in case I disagree with the shops definition of punk, reggae or whatever.

The Ruts, for instance, may have split thirty years ago but even though I bought everything when it first came out I still cannot help having a quick shufty through the Ruts rack in case something rare or unreleased or dubbed up has been released without me knowing.

Now you could argue that you could do this in HMV, but then you have to cope with rack upon rack of tripe and you won’t find anything that is not selling by the skip load. If you want anything a little bit different, it has got to be an Independent.

As you go through the door of Spillers, for instance, turn right and you have several racks of ‘local and self released’ CDs. The chains are not interested in selling Kilnaboy, PAIN, Sick Note or the Clay Statues, but Spillers lap it up.

Independent record shops deserve support if only for that reason; they support local bands and therefore help keep music interesting. Today I supported my local record shop by buying CDs by local bands; Cardiff based welsh language dub/hip hop vetrans Llwyber Llaethog (Mily Way) and Pontypridd based ska heroes Tattsyrup (which is not actually welsh, it is apparently something that was on sale in the local shop for local people in The League of Gentlemen - yes, they are all ex-students)

And another thing …… strike up a conversation with the staff in Spillers and you might discover a new band, learn about new releases, hear about an upcoming gig or just spend five minutes talking to someone who shares your passion. Talk to the staff in HMV and you will be lucky to find out the time of day – as for the staff on the record counter in ASDA……….

Independents are a dying breed though. Downloading, high rents and supermarkets utilising their buying power to sell the mainstream names at outrageous discounts have all led to a drop in the footfall through these emporiums of sonic delights.

Three years ago Chris Brown, employee of the independent record store chain, Bull Moose, located in Maine and New Hampshire, conceived the idea of International Independent record Store Day. Now, once a year, all over the world record shops put on events with in-store performances, DJ sets, sell special Record Store Day releases and t-shirts and generally make it (even more) fun to call into an independent for the day.

Spillers joins in the fun. This year we have DJ sets from Bullet for My Valentine, Bethan Elfyn, DJ Rascal, Gary ‘Twisted by Design’, plus Spillers regulars Ben and Sam. There are also in-store performances from The Automatic, Christopher Rees and Cosmo. Before the shop had even opened people were queuing to get into the niche shop that Mr Brown thinks has no place in the Town Centre.

I don’t do queues at the best of times. I certainly do not do queues outside shops. I was, however, determined to support my local record shop today so timed my visit to coincide with an appearance by my favourite tame hippy. Some people say he changes his underpants every week, whether he needs to or not; and rumour has it he once appeared the National Lottery live. I don’t know if this is true, but I do know his name is Cosmo.

Whisking into the store at the last minute to avoid being mobbed by his fan club, he quickly plugged in, tuned up and got down. Browsers tapped their feet in the right place, nodded in agreement with the Anti-BNP song and giggled at the Oi Mush Song. With a few brief songs he agitated, educated and offended in equal measure. The gig was like a flash mob (but without the mob). One minute he was not there, then he was, then he wasn’t again. Surprise surprise, he then went to the pub and bummed drinks of his fan club – and waxed lyrical about how people who hang out in record shops are a bit nerdy - so get we get our own back by telling you where you can download his latest album for free

But remember folks, you cant skin up on an MP3

BUDGIE TURNS INTO TURKEY

2010-04-16T23:30:00.006+01:00

I remember it like it was yesterday. I sat in my bedroom listening to The Damned and my brother walked into the room. We got into a debate about music and he walked over to the stereo, lifted ‘Dammed Damned Damned’ off the turntable and put on some hippy looking album with a bird on the cover. We were only a few bars into ‘Breadfan’ by Budgie and I was sold. This welsh outfit were to join the very short list of heavy metal bands that were going to be allowed to infect my record collection. That was over thirty years ago.

There was always something unique about Budgie. It was a mix of Tony Bourge’s unique guitar sound – I can’t put my finger on what was unique about it, it just was – Burke Shelley’s almost lead guitar like bass and his voice. I don’t normally like blokes that sing like girls, but with budgie it some how worked a dream, very similar to Geddy Lee from Rush.

Tracks with titles like ‘Nude Disintegrating Parachutist Woman’, ‘Napoleon Bonaparte one and Bonaparte two’ and ‘In the Grip of a Tyrefitter's Hand’ were soon starting to fill up my shelves – much to the disapproval of my punk mates.

With the exception of a drunken blurry night at the Reading Festival in 1982, I never really got to see them live properly before they split in 1988. Then in 1998 while booking a gig with Man, Man’s manager asked me if I would be interested in Six Ton Budgie as a support. Next thing I knew I was sat in the home studio of original Budgie drummer Ray Phillips in his home in Trefil. I was transported to my youth and sat there for hours listening to tales of life on the road with Budgie. Of course I wanted them as a support, I was never going to get the proper Budgie (as far as i knew they were disbanded with no intention of reforming), but Six Ton Budgie were, as Ray put it, Budgie - only heavier.

The Shelly incarnation of Budgie played sporadic one off gigs during 1995 and 96, then officially reformed in 1999 but left it till 2006 to release an album, the typically Budgie titled ‘You're All Living in Cuckooland’. They must have played near by at some time recently but tonight’s gig In Pontypridd’s Muni was the first I had heard about in advance and duly set about sorting myself with a ticket.

Appropriately tonight, as dinosaurs and prehistoric birds walked the earth once more, Europe was grounded due to a cloud of volcanic ash floating above us. As we arrived I felt unusually young, with many of those that had turned out probably going to see Budgie while I was still in junior school and still yet to go through my bedroom Budgie epiphany. We arrived shortly before the doors opened and there was already a queue. Not being one for queue’s, or watching covers bands (support was in the shape of Merthyr Tydfil’s metal cover band, Celtic Pride) we headed for the pub.

Once the text arrived notifying us that Celtic Pride had left the stage we walked the short distance from the Patriot Bar to the packed Muni and started to feel even younger. The room was full of people who think £16 to see a live band is cheap, Judas Priest t-shirts are cool, queueing to get a venue before it has opened is normal and it is acceptable to have a covers band on a bill for proper bands.

I put my snobbery in my back pocket and we set up camp to the right of the stage and waited for the arrival of the second best heavy metal band in the history of the world (Ozzy era Sabbath obviously being the first).

When they finally arrived I nearly had by eye poked out. Current guitarist, Craig Goldy of the Ronnie James Dio’s band, was wearing unfeasibly tight leggings not really appropriate for a man of 49; it looked like he had a cricket box down his pants.

Then they began.

Shelly had turned sixty this week. Well done Mr Shelley. Now I hate to be ageist, but sixty is most definitely too old to rock and roll, and sadly Burke Shelly is an example of this. Whilst he actually looked fitter than me, his voice is not what it used to be and given that voice was a vital ingredient that made the band so special, this was not good. His nifty bass work was also pivotal; I am not sure if it was the sound engineer not understanding the band or if again age was a factor, but the bass was barely audible.

As for the unique guitar sound? Well it was clearly unique to the original guitarist, which was not Mr Goldy. It is not that he is not a good guitarist, he is clearly a very good guitarist and threw in some pretty amazing finger wizardry. However, that was not what Budgie were about and trying to make Budgie sound clever makes Budgie sound like – not Budgie. They sounded like a heavy metal band; a very talented metal band, I’ll give you that, but as odd as this sounds, I don’t actually like metal. The Budgie I loved as a kid sounded special and different, the Budgie that I saw tonight did not. ‘In for the Kill’ hinted at the old Budgie, but the encore of that classic ‘Breadfan’ left me feeling very sad.

A bit of me wished I had not gone, that memory of Budgie all those years ago had been slightly defiled – and lets face it, thirty years later with only one original member, it was obvious there was a good chance that would be the case – but hey, I would have never forgiven myself if I had not gone. I am glad I went, but I won’t bother again.

CARDIFF CITY 2 SWANSEA CITY 1

2010-04-03T22:45:00.011+01:00

Chopra celebrates most important derby goal (ever?)

Football derbies all over the world can generate passions unrivalled by any other sporting event. Where ever you go in the world, whether it be Boca Juniors v River Plate in Argentina, AC Milan v Inter Milan, Spartak Moscow v CSKA Moscow, Milwall v West Ham or Celtic V Rangers, grown men lose the plot and want their team to beat their local rivals more than any other team in the world. The local derby can take on more importance than the FA Cup, promotion or a game against a footballing giant like Chelsea or Arsenal.

The passion often goes beyond the pitch and spills into violence between fans. Some teams have fans that cause agro wherever they go, but throw the derby element into the mix and even the most mild-mannered supporter will be overcome by an irrational hatred of 'them from down the road'. Add into the mix two sets of fans with a reputation for violence and you have an explosive combination.

There are several rivalries within British football that are a nightmare for the local constabulary, but Cardiff v Swansea is an event that over the years has built a reputation for being one of the most violent clashes in the UK. Last year's games, the first for over ten years, saw police operations on a scale second only to the G8, with plod from five police forces involved in escorting a convoy of coaches along the M4 from one ground to another and no independent travel allowed.

Today we have a few extra ingredients to make the encounter even spicier than usual. This was to be our first meeting at the shiny new Cardiff city stadium - and both teams are in ‘play off’ positions, with the prize of premiership football potentially only six games away. The Welsh media have been building it up as the most important derby the two clubs have every played – EVER.

So how do the hardcore prepare for a game of such importance? No idea. Our little posse prepared by hitting the pub. Following on from last year's 11am Sunday morning kick off, this year -much to the displeasure of the police - we had a 5:20pm kick off on a Saturday afternoon (just goes to show, SKY have more clout then the old bill!). So instead of queuing outside the pub at 7am on a Sunday, we strolled into town for noon then slowly worked our way to the ground stopping off at most of the pubs on the way. When we finally got into the ground the atmosphere was bumping with the 25,000 crowd all on their feet and singing their hearts out.

A packed Ninian Park was a daunting place for away teams (and fans) to visit and no-one has been surprised that the atmosphere in the new stadium does not come close to replicating the old amphitheatre, but today we came close and as the two teams walked out of the tunnel the whole place had the vibe of gladiators about to do battle to the death - with potential new investor, Dato' Chan Tien Ghee, watching over like an Emperor with the power of life or death.

Then there was some football.

Swansea have the best defensive record in the division and Cardiff have one of the best scoring records in the division; so it was a case of an irresistible force meeting an immovable object. In fairness, the Jacks had most of the possession, passing the ball about amongst themselves thus denying us goal scoring opportunities (if you aint got the ball you can’t put it in the net!). Then on the half hour they moved forward and put it in our net.

The jacks went wild but after a moment of stunned silence the Cardiff faithful were back on full song and got 110% behind the Bluebirds. Just before half time Chopra rewarded the crowd’s loyalty and banged in an equaliser, silencing the travelling Jacks.

The second half was more of the same, Swanesa passing the ball about but not really threatening to do anything with it. A draw was starting to feel like a reasonable result in this top of the table clash then after 92 minutes Chops banged in a cracking goal and the stadium exploded. Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat - with no time for a response - was sweeter than a sweet thing on Saint Sweets Day.

Fortunatley a Youtube roving reporter managed to capture the winning goal where we were stood (look carefully and you will catch our gang celebrating!)

After having hope dangled in front of them for much of the match, the last gasp winner must have been heartbreaking for the jacks (bless em). As the final whistle blew it was obvious the ground was not going to empty for a good while to come. People just stood their ground, cheering, singing and savouring the moment. Despite the intense rivalry and emotions, the massive police presence and the design of the new stadium meant there were only 8 arrests, mostly connected with the Jacks smashing up and setting fire to the bogs.

Eventually we had to move on and finish the day the way it started, in the pub. But this time, instead of being filled with hope, trepidation, excitement and a little bit of apprehension, it was just pure joy.

We had beaten the Jacks in the most important derby EVER ----- but will there be a more important game before the season is over?

Urban75 view of things

BBC Report

1234 : Tales of young love and rock and roll dreaming

2010-03-15T23:34:00.007Z

1234 trailer

1234 the movie | MySpace Video

New British Cinema Quarterly is a scheme that is, in its own words, “Taking the most distinctive and original British feature films and filmmakers from the festival circuit and bringing them to the

's flagship independent cinemas”. Chapter Arts in Cardiff, presumably, must be a ‘flagship independent cinema’, because this is where we headed tonight to catch the first film to get the NBCQ treatment, 1234.

1234 is a tale of young love disguised as a film about a young indie band dreaming of making it big – but it might possibly be the other way around. Bespectacled guitarist Stevie (Ian Bonar) together with his mate Neil (Matthew Baynton) attempt to break out of the hum drum existence of working in a call centre by forming a band. First they recruit the slightly older and more experienced Billy (Kieran Bew) and slightly scatty bassist Emily (Lyndsey Marshal) - who moonlights as an artist, making sculptures out of hair and creating maps based on a day following strangers around.

The band rehearse in what appears to be a church hall, play gigs in pubs, lay down a demo and send it off to every record company they can think of – then build up a collection of rejection letters from said record companies.

Stevie falls in love with Emily, who in return likes him back – but she has a boyfriend, so the course of true love is not a straight one.

The film is not a Guy Ritchie movie, not a Huw Grant Movie and not even a Billy Elliot move; it is a tale of people having a laugh and making the most of things while living a mundane life but living in hope. There is no happy ending, but at the end we do get a tantalising glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel, in more ways than one; you are left with a feeling that maybe things do work out but there is enough of a question mark at the end to generate a warm grin as the credits go up.

This is a directorial debut by Giles Borg, who cut his teeth making music videos. The film was actually made back in 2008, with a little bit of help from the wallet of Radiohead’s Ed O’Brien, but is only now getting big screen space due to the New British Cinema Quarterly project.

As part of the NBCQ tours, films are followed by a question and answer session with someone connected with the film. In Cardiff we get the endearing Matthew Baynton, a young and refreshingly honest and down to earth character who gives us a little insight into how the film was made, tales of playing in his own band and a few thoughts on young love.

All in all a thoroughly wholesome and heart warming evening.

JOHN SICOLO R.I.P.

2010-03-14T18:09:00.004Z

PIC: John sicolo hanging out with John Peel

John Sicolo, owner of the legendary TJs in Newport passed away this morning. BBC story here

Newport will not be the same without him.

TAKING DOWN THE BORDERS WITH A SPANNER

2010-03-05T22:51:00.004Z

If you want to find a pissed off anarchist with a liking for ska-punk and black hoodies, you wont go far wrong by going to a No Borders benefit gig. For some time now the more active anarchists in Cardiff have been focusing their energy on No Borders Wales and tonight they have gathered for drinking of beer and grooving to loud shouty punk rock.

Prior to the event the Promised Land was described to me as “a hot new venue in the centre of Cardiff”. On arrival I realised I had been there before but it had not clicked because it is not new and not particularly hot. Come to that, I would hardly describe it as a venue, more – well – a pub! Enough of the semantics though, good gigs can happen anywhere and walking towards the ‘venue’ it soon became clear that at the very least we were in for a night out surrounded by old friends.

Now I like a bit of shouty punk as much as the next man, in fact probably more than the next man, but I am into moderation in a big way. A spoonful of shouty punk can add energy and sweeten proceedings; two spoonfuls of shouty punk can be harmful to your teeth and three spoonfuls can be undrinkable – which is a shame.

Each of the bands on the bill tonight are capable of putting on a good show and in different circumstances probably do, but for me I like a bit of variety. I don’t like bills that are single genre, whether it be a terabyte of techno, a bong full of reggae or a tankard full of diddly, but an overdose of hardcore punk is probably the hardest to swallow.

Now it could be argued that there is variety on the bill, the publicity says:

“Expect hard sounds and hard politics from these outspoken bands. There will be crust-punk from Jesus Bruiser, anarcho-punk from Filthy Habits, and hardcore-punk from The Shortcuts”.

I have been jumping about to punk rock since the heady days of 1977, but I am not entirely clear what the difference between hardcore punk and crust-punk is, judging by tonight, not a lot.

Okay, time to stop whinging, cos in fairness the bands don’t deserve it, they all manage to harness an energy and anger that is just a distant memory to this ageing punk – and perhaps more importantly they manage to turn the upstairs of a pub into a hot (if not new) venue. But to paraphrase the t-shirt, this old punk will never die; I just stand by the bar.

The event was a benefit for No Borders, an organisation I support, but it was not that support that dragged me into town tonight, it was an appearance by Bristle ska-punk outfit, Spanner. Yes, another punk band, but Spanner are an uplifting, double- caffeine and guarana cup of punk stirred with a brass spoon that will wake up the tiredest of old punks.

Spanner are not just punks that have latched onto the anarchist image, they are direct action veterans that happen to also play in a ska punk band. Having been around the block a few times these guys are tight and tonight they wake up all but the totally wrecked (and there are one or two of those around) and get them up and dancing. Well worth the wait.

As for the totally wrecked? ..... Not a good idea to fall asleep at a punk gig, as the guy in the picture below found out

BORING ON THE SEVERN

2010-03-03T17:53:00.006Z

There are very few locations in the world where tidal bores can be seen, but one of the most spectacular bores occurs just up the road on the River Severn, which has the second largest tide in the world. Creating a wave up to 2m high, it is by far the largest bore in the UK.

The Severn Bore occurs to some extent throughout the year, but the really big ones happen around the equinox, particularly the spring equinox. They are caused by high tides (hence the connection with the moon) rushing up the estuary causing a tidal wave on the leading edge. A lot of factors come into play, such as the amount of water coming down the river and the wind.

Bores can range between one star, caused by a tidal range of 4.5m (14.8ft) to 4.6m (15ft), and five-star, caused by a tidal range of 5.4m (17.7ft) and above. On 2^nd March the river experienced its first five star bore since 2002 and dozens of surfers gathered to ride the wave up to three miles up river (BBC Report and video). Armed with his tide table Crispy assured me that there ought to be a similar spectacle on the 3^rd.

And so it was, using up the last of my leave for this financial year I jumped in the Crispmobile and we set off up the banks of the Severn to the appropriately named Severn Bore pub. Our timing was perfect, within a minute of arriving the bore came around the corner, splashing against the banks and upsetting a few horses. As a lone surfer rode the wave I was overwhelmed by the silence of the crowd gathered in the car park. Unforetunately the silence was not awe, but disapointment. This was my first time, I was losing my ‘bore virginity’ and it was, to put it mildly - an anti-climax. I could not work out what all the fuss was about, but looking at everyone else’s face I could see I was not alone. I looked at the crisp, a veritable bore stud, his face a picture of puzzlement. “Well, that was – erm – boring!”

We hastily jumped back in the crispmobile to race the wave to a bridge on the outskirts of Gloucester and tried to analyse what had gone wrong. The tide was the same height, there had been no rain to fill up the river, so the only answer must have been the wind. Yes, that was it, the wind was blowing in the wrong direction.

We arrived in Gloucester and I ran up the path to the bridge, expecting the bore to be just behind us. But with all the meandering and travelling at just 10pmh, it was at least half an hour before it reached us and disappointed a whole new set of bore watchers. I had been hoping the wind had changed direction, the river had narrowed or even that there had been an earthquake, but no, it was just as boring up river. Next time eh.

Part of the package deal for the lift in the crispmobile had been that we then had to, for reasons I will not bother you with now, go and sit in the car park of a trading estate in Solihull for an hour, then go and look around charity shops in Solihull town centre for an hour. Eventually we finished off the day with a pleasant bar meal in the Masons Arms and, whilst you poor citizens of Solihull may feel your town is boring, I can confirm it is not as boring as a Severn Bore with the wind blowing in the wrong direction.

*in fairness, even a mini-bore is a little bit impressive and I will be back again hoping to catch it in all its glory next year

Let it snow

2010-02-26T00:58:00.002Z

Not done much with me Flikr account for ages, but tonight have uploaded some photographs of snow taken recently go here for a slide show or alternatively go here to see the set

A bit of Tom Jones

2010-02-21T22:36:00.002Z

Went down to Chapter Arts tonight to see A bit of Tom Jones. Thoroughly enjoyed

It is a low budget (£100,00) film made in Tredegar (south wales) and was originally only intended to be shown in Wales, but i understand there are a handfull of cinemas over the bridge now showing it (Bristol, Manchester and Sheppards Bush). I reccomend you get along if you have a chance.

The basic plot is a guy buys Tom Jones cock in a pub and spends the rest of the film trying to sell it to rich perverts that collect celebrity body parts. It is a cross between twin town, sattelite city and a carry on movie. On times the plot is - well - just plain silly, but there are a considerable number of scenes that produce all out belly laughs. I can't remember the last time i laughed out loud so much in the cinema.

The mixture of familiar (to me) locations and valley humour make it quite unique and will be of special interest to valleys bods; although anyone with a wicked sense of humour will enjoy

Guardian article here

CHELSEA 4 CARDIFF CITY 1 (FA Cup round 4)

2010-02-13T20:06:00.008Z

We managed to knock Leeds out of the FA cup when they were top of the Premiership and we got to the FA cup final in 2008 (after beating Barnsley in the semi-final, who had knocked out Chelsea en route). The chances of repeating this sort of success are pretty slim, but they are always in the back of the mind when travelling away to a big club. So, full of vim and vigour, we set off for the big smoke with our hearts full of hope. Although, with a team littered with injuries and a reputation for inconsistency, it was mainly hope that we did not get an embarrassing thrashing.

The 12 noon kick off meant an outrageously early start for a trip to London. On the bus stop by 06:30 and ever so slightly tipsy by ten of the clock, at which time we were in Heston Services just out side London.

After a short ride through London's west end, the busses were all parked up in the car park for Earls Court

Then it was just a short walk around the corner for the first refreshments, an off licence next to the car park. Just as well, cos it turns out most of the pubs in the area were closed.

We then had to walk through Brompton Cemetery. It is an impressive Victorian park full of lovingly crafted mausoleums, it would be interesting to visit it properly some time, but I am not sure it is appropriate to use it as a route for football fans heading to and from the football ground.

Then it was into the legendary Stamford Bridge. This was my first visit to the ground since the days when Chelsea were in the old second division, back in 1983. Things have changed a bit since then, both on and off the pitch.

Chelsea is one of the most expensive grounds to visit in the country, which has led to it becoming very much a ‘prawn sandwich’ venue, many of the old ‘working class’ fans that would sing their heart out being replaced by a more sedate crowd. Today the place was very much livened up by 5,800 boisterous and vocal Cardiff city fans. The usual we love Cardiff type songs would today be supplemented by cheeky songs about John Terry’s philandering and ultimately, “Four One - and you still won’t sing”.

We lost, but it was no walk over. Despite them scoring within two minutes (shocking refereeing to allow a goal so obviously off side) we kept them on their toes for much of the first half and eventually Chopra banged in an equaliser. At half time we were full of hope but it was no real shock when Chelskei went up a gear to eventually knock us out of the cup. The score line was slightly flattering to them though and Cardiff can be proud of their performance. BBC REPORT HERE

Then it was out of the ground for the walk back to the bus. Despite the biggest police presence at Stamford Bridge for 15 years (allegedly) the crowds pretty much mingled and there was quite a lot of ‘robust interaction’, many of Chelsea’s old Head Hunters coming out of retirement to say hello to their old friends the Soul Crew. Having seen it all before many times it was not too difficult to get back to the bus unscathed ready for the journey home.

One day a real rain is gonna come and wash all the scum off the streets.

For some pictures taken nearer the pitch with a better camera and by a more sober photographer, go to Urban 75

FREE COSMO ALBUM TO DOWNLOAD

2010-02-08T18:26:00.004Z

Cosmo, Cardiff’s very own ‘Rebel without Applause’, has put a free sampler album on line for peeps to download and consume at their leisure. Think you have heard it all before? Well you haven’t (unless you have already heard this album, obviously), cos there are two new and exclusive tracks. Oi Mush, Suicide Bomber in your Heart, F@ck the BNP…. All the classics are here; and more.

We have given him some stick in the past, but that is just cos we love him. The guy really is a diamond; his combination of social insight, philosophical musings, political awareness, cultural appreciation, poetic genius, self depreciating humour and drunkenness, together with a natural talent on the guitar, provides us with a treat for your head heart and feet. He makes Billy Bragg look like a Tory and makes Jasper Carrot look like a comedian.

Download it, bung it on ya MP3 player and get strangers wondering why you are smiling to yourself while walking down the road.... GO HERE INNIT

Shatter The Hotel: A Dub Inspired Tribute To Joe Strummer by Strummerville

2010-02-06T11:11:00.004Z

Only just discovered this. It is what is says on the tin, a dub tribute to the late great Joe Strummer. Proceeds from the sale of this release will benefit Strummerville: The Joe Strummer Foundation For New Music, a registered charity that aims to create new opportunities for aspiring musicians. Set up by the friends and family of Joe Strummer in the year after his death, the charity seeks to reflect Joe's unique contribution to the music world by offering support, resources and performance opportunities to artists who would not normally have access to them.

Clcik on the tracks in the player below and hear for your self what it sounds like, then go and buy the CD and help out the charity.

Shatter The Hotel: A Dub Inspired Tribute To Joe Strummer by Strummerville

SONCI ROCK SOLSTICE 2010

2010-02-05T16:36:00.003Z

Just noticed there is to be a psychedelic space rock extravaganza up the road in Builth Wells over the summer solstice. Sonic Rock Solstice includes our old mates Omnia Opera, Litmus, Hawklords, Bridget Wishart and Pre-Med, with loads more already booked and to be confirmed. If you get ya tickets before the end of February they are a snip at £35. At that price you cant afford to not go!

NEW OMNIA OPERA TRACKS TO DOWNLOAD

2010-02-01T17:24:00.004Z

Omnia Opera, proabably the greatest plasma rock band ever to hail from Malvern, have two tracks from their forthcoming album available for you to down load fro free, gratis, nout.

Go to http://www.omniaopera.co.uk/news.html .. innit

We think they are rather splendid

CARDIFF CITY 2 DONCASTER ROVERS 1

2010-01-30T18:00:00.000Z

There is one thing that can be said about following Cardiff city, life is never boring. In the last week we have come from behind to beat Leicester 4-2, knocking them out of the FA cup; we have been drawn away against Chelsea in the next round of the cup; Severnside locals Bristol City were given a six nil hiding, our first victory at Ashton gate for 40 years; and Chairman Peter Ridsdale has apologised publicly for misleading the fans, he had promised new players this January if people bought season tickets early, but the money is going to the tax man instead.

All of this made for a tense atmosphere as we took on Doncaster Rovers today. There had been much internet chatter about protests during the game, but fortunately common sense prevailed and everyone got behind the team.

For 45 minutes we dominated the game, attacking the goal from the word go and keeping their goalie busy; but come the half time whistle only Michael Chopra’s 8th minute goal separated us.

The second half was a different story, with Doncaster running rings around us, soon equalising and pressing for more. But perseverance, a trait City have not been renowned for prior to this season, paid off as city dug deep and finished the game with a flurry that resulted in a last minute winner from jay Boothroyd.

The victory relieved the tension, but some still felt the need to protest and call for Ridsdale’s head; we just head home happy.

NINIAN HOMES

2010-01-30T14:30:00.000Z

CARDIF CITY'S FORMER 'HOME' GROUND, IS NOW A 'HOME' GROUND

ROCKAWAY RECORDS TURNS CRIMINAL

2009-12-30T21:37:00.007Z

Simon, the unassuming man behind Rocakway Records, restrains himself from buying his own stock

Newport has for many years had fairly vibrant music scene, with many of its bands and even some of its live venues, quite literally, becoming world famous. During a brief period in the 1990s the town was even dubbed ‘The New Seattle’, due to the number of guitar bands making waves in what the scene hungry music press were calling ‘Cool Cymru’. This ‘scene’, as is often the case, was a creation of lazy journalism. Newport was pumping out good music long before the NME discovered there was a toll on the Severn Bridge and long after The 60 Foot Dolls split.

Now, whilst it would be an exaggeration to say Rockaway Records has been responsible for all the good music coming out of The ‘Port for the last 30 years, anyone who knows anything about the history of all this would be hard pushed to deny that without Rockaway, things would have been very different.

Situated in Newport’s provisions market, Nick Hornby could have been talking about it in his novel High Fidelity, when he described Championship Vinyl; “Located in a neighbourhood that attracts a bare minimum of window shoppers, I get by because people make a special effort to shop here, mostly young men”. Over the years it has expanded and contracted, at one point dominating the upper floor, these days modestly occupying one unit downstairs, in amongst the fruit and veg stalls.

Whilst there is a variety of sonic delights on sale, including reggae and dance music, Rockaway’s reputation is undoubtedly based on its punk rock collection, from old skool UK punk to imported west coast American hardcore. The fact that you can pick up gems there that can be found in few other UK shops, if any, has led to people travelling far and wide to check out the stall.

The shop has always been far more important than its stock though. It has always been a meeting place for locals who have an ear for something a little bit different. There is always someone just chatting away with the owner, Simon, or his ‘assistant’, Dean Beddis (formerly front man with the Cowboy Killers and Las Vegas Elvis). Sometimes it is just a music fanatic discussing the latest release by the Meat Puppets; sometimes an aspiring musician discussing last nights gig; sometimes an old head reminiscing about the old days down the Stowaway; or sometimes an anorak waffling on about some obscure white label he has bought off e-bay. Being Newport, they have their fair share of local nutters who will spend twenty minutes complaining about the price of a £6.99 CD before going off to shop lift from HMV.

Rockaway has probably been as important to Newport, if not more important than, TJs. For many years Simon was the brains behind Cheap Sweaty Fun (CSF), an ad-hoc not-for-profit punk promotion outfit. They started out in 1984 to raise money for striking miners and went on to put on hundreds of shows, with profits either going to subsidise the gigs that lost money or going to local charities. They focused on punk and ska gigs, but the only criteria they really stuck to was it had to be a band they wanted to see themselves. They wandered around a bit, using Stowhill Labour Club, Pillgwellny Irish Club and finally settling on TJS. I think it is fair to say that without CSF, TJs Disco would still be as its name suggests; a disco.

In addition to putting on gigs CSF also put out the odd record, usually to celebrate an anniversary like their 100th or 200th gig. Bands they put out include The Misfits, Bouncing Souls, Snuff, The Cowboy Killers and Choketeen.

For a good few years now Simon has been concentrating on record fairs and has now finally decided to give up the shop. He is going to carry on with the record fairs whilst Beddis, who has worked there for over 20 years and pretty much runs the show anyway, will be formally taking over the stall as of Saturday. The record fair business will take the name Rockaway, whilst the stall will be renamed Criminal Records.

You can't skin up on an MP3!

By way of a last hurrah, today Simon is holding a record fair upstairs from the stall and this is my first point of call. Behind his stall is a collage of vinyl, both 7” and 12”, suspended in transparent display covers. The display is varied, to say the least. Chet Atkins and the Oppressed share a space with ‘Highlights of the 1961 FA cup Final' and ‘Roar: Authentic sounds from grand prix races and the Isle of Man TT’. (?!!)

I chat with Simon, as is the tradition, and browse through the non sound effects CDs. An old mate of Simons arrives and starts scooping up CDs as if he had won the lottery. Simon starts telling us about a new ska band he has seen but is quickly trumped by his mate who tells us about Staff Benda Bilili; A group of paraplegic street musicians who live in and around the grounds of the zoo in Kinshasa, Congo. Being a sucker for the obscure, I make a mental note to Google them when I get home*. Matey then disappears to find a cash point to fund his purchase as Simon tots up his bill, muttering to himself, half pleased that he has a big sale, half guilty that even at mates rates his mate is going to be handing over the equivalent of Iceland’s national debt. I sheepishly purchase one CD, The Ruts DC V Zion Train.

Rockaway, the Vinyl solution

After making arrangements to drink beers with Simon sometime soon, I head downstairs for one last visit to Rockaway Records, the stall. Dean is enthusiastic and looking forward to the challenge. This could potentially mean a new lease of life for the stall, Beddis has some plans for changing and expanding, and with Simon not creaming off the best of the stock for the fairs (something he openly admits to) we could see a revival of the stall, or at least as much of a revival as you can have in a recession hit world where people are keen to download their music for nout. A local nutter wanders by and complains about the price of DVDs, before heading off to shop lift as HMV; some things never change.

* I rarely come away from meetings with Simon without having heard about something new, this was a bit unexpected though! Staff Benda Bilili make music of astonishing power and beauty. The band's mesmerising rumba-rooted grooves, overlaid with vibrant vocals, remind you at times of Cuban nonchalance, at other times of the Godfather of Soul himself. You can hear echoes of old-school rhythm and blues, then reggae, then no-holds barred funk. Four senior singer/guitarists sitting on spectacularly customized tricycles, occasionally dancing on the floor of the stage, arms raised in joyful supplication, are the core of the band, backed by a younger, all-acoustic, rhythm section pounding out tight beats. Over the top of this are weird, infectious guitar-like solos performed by young Roger Landu, (an ex-street kid the band took under their wing), who plays a one-string electric lute he designed and built himself out of a tin can.

MY(OUTER)SPACE

2009-11-03T20:52:00.003Z

Right, been off line for a while due to terminal illness of me hard drive, but back in the world of cyber space now. And what better way to get back into blogging than to let you know about a little site I have discovered called MyOuterSpace. Basically it is “A project that musicians from all over planet Earth participate in. Each musician or band provides his best or an especially composed song for the CDs you can download HERE and NOW for FREE”.

I can’t comment yet on what the releases are like, but it looks interesting to me. As I type I am downloading Volume 5 and will update this post when I have given it a listen.

FREE MARK VILDER ALBUM DOWNLOAD

2009-08-05T17:04:00.003+01:00

Mark Vilder, the mash up king behind Go Home Productions has just released an album and EP of original material (i.e. stuff he has written himself not mash ups). It is, quite frankly, amazing that he bothers to mash up other peoples records if he can make music this fine on his own. Heavily influenced by psychedelic and funky sounds from the last 4 decades, from the Rolling Stones through to the Stone Roses this is one of the best new albums we have heard for ages.

And what’s more….. it is only available for free download! (Although if you want to send him something via pay pall you can). He is also happy, in fact eager, for people to share it. So get yourself over to his website and check it out. While you are there, you might want to download some of his mash ups for gratis as well.

(Expect a review soon)

DOWNLOAD A TANTRUM

2009-08-05T00:23:00.003+01:00

Have just spotted that the lovely people at Cardiff's Tantrum Records are giving away a shed load of stuff for free (and legit) download.

Go HERE and help yourself to a load of Sick Note, Cosmo, Whistling Biscuits, the Physicists and much more.

SONIC BOOM SIX INTERVIEW

2009-08-04T22:44:00.003+01:00

Sonic Boom Six Interview uploaded to main website.

One of these days I will get around to learning how to build a proper website, I am sure I make it a lot more time consuming than it needs to be.

MUD, SWEAT AND ORCHARDS

2009-08-01T23:29:00.006+01:00

Nozstock Festival 2009

“You can’t do them all mate”. True, but its scant compensation when you are gagging to go somewhere and for various reasons you cant make it. Then I pick up messages from Flapsandwich (he out of Sick Note), offering me a guest pass for Nozstock festival. Grrrrrrrr…. What shall I do? Cant really go for the weekend, for various reasons.. but this is just to generous an offer to turn down. I ring back and explain I can’t do the whole weekend and perhaps it should go to someone who can but am advised that it is no problem, I should come along anyway.

And so it was, that I find myself driving to Hereford on a wet Saturday afternoon for another festival first… STAYING SOBER AND DRIVING HOME!

Sheep Music festival was not sign posted anywhere, but that was not a problem because it was right next to the town of Prestigine. Nozstock is not sign posted, which is a problem cos it is in the middle of nowhere. I eventually find a road that I think takes me in the right direction and come across a sign that says, “WARNING, FESTIVAL TRAFFIC 400 YARDS AHEAD” which leads me to think I am headed in the right direction.

I pull up to the gate and a steward sticks his head in the window of my car. “I am only here for a few hours so could do with parking somewhere it is easy to get out”, I tell him.

He looks thoughtful and then responds, “There is nowhere easy to get out, you will have to drive down there”.

OK, no problem I think, and clunk the old Iguanamobile in gear and put pedal to the metal. Within seconds I see what he meant. I have just landed in the Somme. All I can see is wellies, mud and tractors.

I look to the right and spot a green space where a car has recently left and it is only a few meters from the gate, but try as I might, I cant get to it, me wheels are well and truly stuck in a tractor wheel rut. I have no option but to drive into the belly of the beast. At the bottom of the hill I can see cars being towed INTO the car park. Memories of Workhouse 2007 flash into my mind and I chuckle to myself.

As I drive down into the site I have to stop for tractors pulling people in the other direction. I look around, spot a little space that has ‘Clint Iguana’s Parking Spot’ written all over it and drive straight into the hedge. “Job Done” I think to myself, grab me wellies and head off in search of wristbands.

Nozstock is a 5,000 capacity event just out side Bromyard, near Hereford. It is a family run event on the grounds of a farm. It has eight stages, a comedy tent, cinema, kids area, bars, market and loads of random art. In the middle of it is the organiser’s house, which you can walk through. Quite a few of the stages are dance orientated and the likes of Andy C and the Scratch Perverts are on this weekend, as well as the Saturday headliners the Buzzcocks. Six of the 8 stages are going to be running legally till 5am on Sunday (grrrr and I am driving home!).

As I walk in through the ‘arena’ gate, I almost bump my head on the spotlights of the main stage. It is smack in front of me and does not have much of an area in front of it for the crowd. It is however sloping, amphitheatre style, so everyone has a good view. It slopes a lot. And with all this mud about I have visions of the entire audience ending up on stage at some point. There are a lot of slopes, in fact there aren’t any flat bits on the site at all. Us valley boys are used to it though.

I text Flapsandwich to arrange to meet and head off for a recky. First I head off to the left, past the Garden Stage, down through a little market area on a slope that would have me falling over in the dry, down into a little wooded dingle and into an area with a with a sound system. I find a PA pumping out beats and loads of people, not so much dancing, but stood around nodding and looking as if they have been there at least 24 hours. It reminds me of a scene from the old free parties in woods. I don’t stop long.

I head back up the hill and stop at the bar by the main stage, spotting a familiar face, not one I would expect to find at a gathering like this. His first words are “Don’t tell anyone you saw me at a hippy gathering like this”. Its Dean Beddis, former front man with the Cowboy Killers and Las Vegas Elvis, currently doing stuff as the Ginger Arsonists. I promise not to tell anybody.

I then head down another hill, past a pond with monsters in, past a bronze flying pig and up to the kids area. I find my old mate Julian who, he informs me, has come in his new caravan. The last time (and only time) he towed a caravan was when he towed my caravan, with a car I had only had for three days, to Glastonbury, and did £2000 worth of damage to my car and wrote off my caravan. Now he has bought himself a twenty-five foot double axle beast. He tells me about problems with the electrics and the gas, but I am too busy laughing inside to pay much attention.

I look around the market and text Flapsandwich. Then I decide it is time to find the rest of the gang. I head over to the live in vehicles section and soon find the Risca and Aberdare posse tucking into a huge breakfast/brunch/dinner thing. I sit for an hour or so getting abuse for staying sober and driving before heading off to the arena.

Now then. Sick Note.

Sick note don’t do clever guitar solos, they don’t do beautiful love songs and they don’t do thoughtful folk songs. They do deep down, dirty, primal beats for your feets. They grab you by the innards and shake you. When combined with P&Os Vjing you get sensory overload and are transported to another place. I have seen them in pubs, nightclubs, festivals and even working men’s clubs and there are two essentials that stand out for me. 1) The darker the better, turn the lights down low, big up the VJ screen and crank up the volume. Sick Note will make you feel like a newborn baby, coming out into the world discovering light and sound for the first time. 2) Anyone coming on after Sick Note will look a bit lame in comparison. I have seen some pretty big names (withheld to avoid embarrassment) look silly following Sick Note.

So here we are, early on a summer evening, in broad daylight, on an open-air stage. They rock, they rock big time. Those that have not seen them before will undoubtedly have been blown away, but I can’t help feel sorry for those who are seeing them for the first time and not getting it in full effect, like sex with a condom. Promoters are starting to geth the message though.

I stand for five minutes watching cars being towed off site. I have to say, for a small festival they are pretty sorted, three tractors and about ten lads with wellies on controlling traffic, and pushing people out. I watch, see what works and what doesn’t work, which lines are the best. Then jump in the car, reverse out of the bush, stick her in first and drive straight out. I impress myself, but you can bet next time I have an audience I will mess it up.

Later I realise I have the wrong number for Flapsandwich and have been texting some poor stranger. Sorry for not catching up with you Flappy, will see you next week. And sorry if you have been receiving strange texts about mud, flying pigs and scratching perverts.

DUBS, DOPES AND 24 HOUR CHEESE SHOPPING

2009-07-25T08:13:00.005+01:00

The Powersteppers launch new dub night in Swansa

Pretty Shitty City. A harsh and possibly inaccurate description of Swansea, but one that it is going to have to live down for may years following the cult movie, Twin Town. It is only down the road from iguana HQ, but it is a place I have not really bothered much with. I have been to union meetings there, I have travelled through it on my way to the Gower and, of course, have had ‘interesting’ trips to watch Cardiff City playing at both the old Vetch and the Liberty Stadium. Oh.. and last year I went to see Ozric tentacles in Sin City, a gig memorable for the band taking a half an hour break to have a spliff in the middle of the set, which in fairness, seems like a pretty Swansea thing to do (there you go, I have fallen into the trap of stereotyping the place). Tonight though, we head for the Monkey Café, a venue that looks like it might smash my preconceptions of the city.

The Monkey Café aims to bring a touch of jazzy, funky coolness to this coastal town. Inspired by venues in Australia, Europe and Asia, in particular Schemes like the arts factory in Byron Bay Australia. It aspires to be a “meeting place for artists and musicians and a forum for their work, a progressive and ethical policy in terms of business practice, styles of food, waste management and a relaxed and bohemian atmosphere”.

Originally opening in 1998 as a restaurant with a difference, in 2004 it expanded and gained nightclub status. Since then they have played host to artists such as Hybrid, Freestylers, Scratch Perverts, Dreadzone, Mr C and LTJ Bukem. They host regular club nights, including salsa, Latino, funk and hip-hop nights. Tonight we are Monkey bound for the launch of a new monthly Dub night and who better to kick the night off than The Powersteppers with Molara on the mic.

Being a nightclub, things don’t really kick off till traditional pub closing time. My travelling companions tonight are veterans of the Monkey and often don’t leave Blackwood till midnight to get there. Tonight we have a few jugs in Cardiff then head west. We arrive about half eleven and the place is almost empty, so head for one of the two ‘smoking balconies’ to ‘acclimatise’ ourselves for what is to come. As we wait, the walls, doors and teeth rattle as Colin sound checks in the main room.

A quick scout around reveals a nice funky ground floor bar restaurant thing. Head up to the first floor and on the left you have the main room which will hold about 400 sardines with, what has to be said, a pretty fine sound system which handles the bass very nicely if you are stood in the room, but when in the toilet you think you are in the middle of an earthquake. On the right you have the smoking balcony, complete with its own bar and extremely friendly bar staff. Leg it up to the second floor and you have another smoking balcony, which security tend not to pay too much attention to, and a chill out room.

All the staff are friendly and laid back, even the security chick dressed all in black with bum length blonde dreads and looks like she an extra from Kill Bill.

The balcony slowly fills up with reprobates, rascals and rogues, with a few bohemians chucked in for good measure.

Eventually the main room opens. Colin twiddles and tweaks his knobs like a good ‘un and people drift in and out to check the vibrations. The dub connoisseurs set up camp in the corners and of the room and let the heavy weight bass lines wash over them, but the lure of the smoking balcony proves too much for those that have just dropped by for a late night. Eventually Molara picks up the Mic and soon the smoking balcony empties as the lure of the dance floor becomes too much. Those in the know nod, knowingly. For those that are new to this, smiles of discovery and skanking feet are the order of the day.

Then at lost track of the time O’clock, the Powersteppers give way to Manasseh in Session with Brother Culture on the mic, live and direct, straight outta Brixton SW9 for some rootical sound system stylee goings on to keep the bass lines coming and the feet moving.

In no time at all it is 4am and we have to head back to civilisation, with a quick stop at an all night superstore to buy some cheese!

Monkey Café? Yeah, not bad, certainly more bohemian than your average nightclub and whilst it may not have smashed my preconceptions of Swansea, it certainly dented them.

PS a big shout goes out to Mr Pat Pending (as seen on Dragons Den) for staying straight and driving home at dawn. A trooper once more.

PISTOLS, PUNKS AND PARAMEDICS

2009-07-19T23:03:00.007+01:00

Sheep Music Festival (Day 3)

There are a few advantages of going to a festival on your own. Not many, but a few. The best way to do a festival is with a small gang of close mates who are on a similar wavelength and just party for the duration. Too big a gang and you get sucked into seeing bands you don’t want to see just to go with the flow. Even in a small gang you can be distracted from what you really want to do. Which is where flying solo comes into its own.

So, after gliding home after dawn, I was up at the crack of noon. The weather had changed though and today would be a test to see if the new tent was waterproof. During a break in the rain a leisurely stroll was embarked upon and a healthy does of vegan curry was consumed. Sick Note are off home so it is back to entertaining myself for the day. I did consider the prospect of and early return to Iguana HQ myself, but the thought of the Dub Pistols kept me going.

After the curry was demolished, the rain returned so it was back to the tent to be absorbed into Oliver Grey’s ‘Volume’. See, now if you were with a gang you would never get away with reading for hours.

Eventually the rain stopped so I headed out to suck in the last few hours of Sheep Music 2009. Some photographs were taken of spectacularly large, but musically unremarkable bands.

The Antipodean Mr Grunwald

There was one act I was determined not to miss though and that was Australian blues maestro, Ash Grunwald. Not only is he an awesome guitarist but he also has a full arsenal of foot pedals at his disposal to provide various beats and percussion. His stool even doubled up as a bass drum. A clever, bluesy, funky and sometimes witty set was only slightly marred by what appeared to be a constant battle with the PA. He was chuffed to bits with the fact that he had travelled half way around the world to play a tiny little obscure festival in the middle of nowhere and people knew his stuff and shouted out requests.

No one appeared to be in full on party mode, but there was a definite air of ‘last night of the festival letting your hair down’ going on. People who had been drunk all weekend were casually topping themselves up and I spotted a few security guys in off duty mode indulging an a few shandys.

The Suited and Booted Dub pistols

I headed up to the Big top to catch the main attraction. The MC whipped the crowd into a frenzy, the smoke belched out, the tension rose, and slowly but surely the Dub Pistols wandered onto the stage all suited and booted. The crowd went mad as the chunky bass lines gave them something to jump on and surf. I watched for a few songs and was taken by the vibe, but I have to say after four or five songs they lost me. It was not that they were not good, they are very competent at what they do, but it seemed to lack a little bit of imagination for my tired head. I wandered back down to Café Seren.

Mr Sheen getting grungy

Here the night was brought to a close by Mr Sheen (at least that’s what the programme says), who were a very grungy, unpolished (sorry could not resist) lo-fi garage rock, in the vein of Beefheart, and Zappa, with a stoner rock edge to it. I decided they were more challenging and interesting than the Pistols and made myself at home on the carpet. A drunk walks in and shouts, “F*cking hell man, you are great, much better than that nonsense in the Big Top, I am going to go back up there and drag everyone down”, then promptly disappears, never to be seen again. Whilst the Dub pistols had been a disapointment, Mr Sheen had made staying the extra night worth while.

As things wind down I witness someone old enough to know better, trying to perform a death defying skateboard stunt, presumably too drunk to remember he cant do skateboard stunts. His departure from the top of the ten-foot high ramp, with all the grace of a goose with one wing is only excelled in its spectacularness by the head first crunch into the concrete below him. Luckily the first aid tent is only yards away and he is soon in the hands of professionals and off to hospital.

Why do I mention this horrific accident? Well, I suppose to demonstrate that even though the event is geared up for entertainment and hedonism, the professionalism and sobriety of those that need to be professional and sober is spot on.

I suppose this sums up the festival. It has been relaxed with no bad karma; people have enjoyed themselves with out upsetting anyone (whether it be the locals or the balloon heads). Very few have gone over the top, but when they have there has been paramedics with first aid, or passing hippies with sound advice, to ensure every body keeps calm and carries on.

There has not been any music that I would say was actually crap and one or two of the bands have actually been excellent. The food was out of this world and the toilets possibly the best at any festival I have ever been to. I have made new friends, built on existing friendships, made a few contacts, discovered new music, eaten good food and drunk good cider. RESULT!

SQUIBS, CUNTZ AND THE STATUE OF LIBERTY

2009-07-18T23:59:00.007+01:00

Sheep Music Festival (Day 2)
The advantage of an early night is that you wake up fresh and ready to take on the world. This morning I was up with the larks, or at least up with the balloon people next door who were larking about thinking it was still Friday. I took a deep breath of fresh air and strolled down into the site with a spring in my step and a song in my heart. Or something like that.

I start with an exploration of the site. It is only small, but there seems plenty going on. There’s the main stage in the Big Top, The Dome, which will host lots of acoustic stuff and a bit of theatrical stuff, Café Seren which is a funky little venue with a stage and .. erm.. a café. The Village Hall will host everything from Knitting classes, through theatre workshops to acoustic folk sets and The Gamelan will have percussion, percussion and percussion all weekend long. It seems the amazing drummers I saw last night were not any band in particular, but part of a three day long jam (at least I think that was what was going on).

On top of this there were a few food outlets, a bar, a kid’s area and a few art installations to ponder on or freak you out, depending what mood you are in.

Knitting at the Village Hall

The whole thing is taking place right next to the village, my unusually flat and comfy camping pitch is actually the local football pitch, there’s a tennis court right next to me and there is even a skateboard park within the festival itself. The kids area is amazingly in the middle of an orchard.

There is also a ‘sculpture trail’, which, quite frankly, unless I took a wrong turn somewhere, was a bit crap.

The security, despite walking around in shirts and ties like night club bouncers, seem friendly enough and on the whole there is a very relaxed vibe about the place.

I try to ring Martin to arrange the interview but find there is no reception anywhere on the bloody site, so decide to have a wander into town to have a nose about and to see if I can get reception. There is not much to Prestigne, but for a small place it does seem to have more than its fair share of boozers. I pop into The Royal Oak for a swift one.

I float out six pints later to try and catch Martin Harley’s second set, having established that the natives are very friendly and they have no problem with the festival because there is never any trouble. On returning to the site I find Sick Note hanging out in Café Seren and I slur praise for Martin Harley before heading off to find him.

The Dome is, strangely enough, a dome. I believe geodesic, is the term. Like most of the stages on site, is powered by wind and sun. Inside we have carpet, tables, chairs and lots of civilised people who chuckle politely when martin Announces, “This guitar is made for me by a friend in Germany with the unfortunate name of Andreas Cuntz. This song is dedicated to you Cuntz”.

Martin harley with a Cuntz on his lap

The set is the perfect laid back blues for a lazy afternoon, although he does get the slide working over time to funk things up occasionally. Even Sick note enjoyed it, which surprised me a little.

After the set I introduce myself to martin, who informs me he is off to Germany to see his favourite Cuntz straight away, so the interview will have to wait for another time. I am disappointed, having done my best to stay sober enough to talk to him, but slightly relived because I had failed to stay sober enough to talk to him.

After this events sort of shuffle themselves about a bit in my memory. At one point I find myself sat with Sick Note by their tents. Filthy the drummer decides to make himself a ‘meal’. After messing about with changing the gas cylinder on his cooker (one of them little calour ones where the valve goes straight into the canister) he lights it, but next thing you know the is gas coming out of the canister instead of the valve, and it's on fire. To avoid setting fire to the tents he holds it up in the air above his head, like the statue of liberty, but in the process almost melts Flapsandwiches sun glasses to his head (which would actually look pretty good on stage). A passing hippy reassures us, “So long as it is on fire it is not going to explode”, so Filthy puts it out. Luckily it reignites and once more presents no danger of blowing up. Eventually calm is restored and he finished cooking his boil in the bag pasta (was it worth the effort?)

Squib... cool, even when straight

As darkness descends we go off in search of music. Flappy was keen on checking out Dub FX, who don’t turn up. I was keen on checking out Maroon Town, who turn out to be crap. As all the main stages close down we find ourselves in Café Seren watching Squib. I camp out next to the stage, enthralled with their funky uptempo brand of jazz rock. I love it and at the end of the set buy a CD, with my mind churning over the possibility that they might have just been good cos I was stoned and when I get home the CD will be crap (it wasn’t). I find Sick Note in the corner, who are moaning about having to sit through a jazz band.

Eventually everything on site shuts down so we head back to the tents, stopping off for five minutes at the all night café on the edge of the campsite. Five minutes chilling turns into five hours of turpitude and when I get back to my tent even the balloon heads from next door are crashed out.

Flapsandwich later writes in his blog that I have a calm aura about me and he felt peaceful and relaxed around me in the all night café. This is very nice of him but maybe I should share with him the proverb about the old bull and the young bull.

An old bull and a young bull are at the bottom of a field. At the top of the field is a herd of cows. The young bull says to the old bull, “Dad, lets run up the hill and f*ck one of them cows.” The old bull responds wisely, “No son. Let’s walk up the hill and f*ck them all”.

SHEEP, STRANGERS AND DANCEFLOOR SEANCES

2009-07-17T23:59:00.008+01:00

Sheep Music festival (Day 1)
“It’s still on fire you nutter!”; “Let’s all hold hands and have a séance” and “This one is dedicated to you Kuntz”; three phrases you don’t often hear in one weekend, but this weekend we will be treated to them all, and more.

The days leading up to Sheep Music 2009 were frustrating to say the least. First the Ginger Prince wimped out because they would not allow caravans on site. Then there was an almighty cock up with my wages that resulted in me running around various banks moving cash about; in the process Barclays bank in Porth landed me with some counterfeit notes that my own bank refused to accept. The final straw was Tara Iguana deciding she was too tired to come to the festival, following a week in London with school. I was destined to go to a festival on my own for the first time ever (unless you count Frogstock … oh, and there was one in Belgium about 20 years ago)

Friday morning I was in no mood to go a festival on my own. I watched some DVDs instead. Then I watched some more. I was determined not to waste the ticket though and eventually decided I had to make a move or I would be putting my new £35 tent up in the dark. So at around 6pm I set off, weaving my way in and out of the Welsh border, landing in Prestigne some two hours later.

The lack of signs for the festival in the area was somewhat surprising, but with my map at my side I found the town fairly easily. What was really frustrating though was the total lack of signs even when you reached Prestigne itself. After driving around like a bloke for ten minutes, I eventually stopped and asked a local, who seemed incredulous that I had not spotted it on my tour of the village. No matter, the car was soon parked, wristband strapped on and the perfect pitch located.

The £35 tent was liberated from its bag (it had to go up now, there was no way I would get it back in the bag). Like a bloke I started rummaging trough the various parts trying to decide how best to put it together. Like a woman (mainly because she is) Caroline from Llanidloes, my neighbour for the next few days, grabbed the instructions and within five minutes we had it erected (the tent that is).

Sick Note were due on shortly, so I proceeded to make up for the couch potato time and guzzled a few down me quick sharp. In no time at all I was stood on the edge of the crowd swaying in time to the post new rave beats of Cardiff’s finest dance floor terrorists.

The usual visuals were not in attendance this weekend, but the house lights and the smoke machine managed to do the trick and the tent was ‘avin it’, ‘banging’ and ‘appening’.

Every time I see this bunch I think of the near orgasm I had when my brain was first invaded by them three years ago and look around the crowd at the faces, wondering if anyone is going through what I went through. I think a few are.

Doghouse asks everyone to join hands for a séance (he’s not all there you know) and the tent becomes a temple of techno for the gathered masses to worship in.

After The Note I head off to The Dome to catch Martin Harley, who is thankfully late on stage, which means I don’t miss anything. I had prearranged to interview him at some point during the weekend but keeping in mind you only have one chance to make a first impression, and me being now three sheets to the wind, I decided to ring him tomorrow.

In a bizarre looking Bedouin tent thingy two kit drummers play the most amazing percussion set I have ever seen. I make mental note to look them up in the programme tomorrow. More wandering is done and then it is back to the tent for an early(ish) night. Sleep is only disturbed by the young tikes next door having fun with balloons. My overworked imagination tells me nitrous oxide must be involved, but I would not like to give evidence in court about it officer.

LOGS, DOGS AND THE TOFU LOVE FROGS

2009-06-27T23:59:00.003+01:00

If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise

Shortly after The Tofu Love Frogs reformed, back in 2007, Paddy came up with the idea of a festival featuring the Frogs and any band that featured ex-Frogs. Given the number of people that had done time with them, this opened up the possibility of a fairly big bill. A field in Devon was sorted and word was spread through cyber space. Unfortunately Jupiter, Uranus and the local constabulary all aligned to make sure the motley gathering did not happen.

Jump forward in time for another crack at it. Frogstock 2009 is announced on ye-olde interweb.

Yep - you guessed it - Frogstock is coming! They begged them to play at Glastonbury but the Tofus want to play a free party in the woods instead. It promises to be one of the greats - so change whatever plans you had, put on your stomping boots and prepare for a night (or few) of mayhem and madness.

Free up the 27th of June and be prepared to settle in for a party that promises to last for days. More details about the exact location will be released closer to the time - but you’re looking at a half hour train ride from London in a kinda north easterly direction and a water taxi to the party location (taxi charge £2)

There’s a field for camping and the music is going to start around 9pm so arrive early to give the ferry a chance to get you all there, and to set up your canvas abodes (more details about best times to arrive as they become available)

As I was due to be in London on the 30th anyway, and the unions were paying for my rail fare, and I had annual leave to take, it was a no brainer, I was going. I waited with baited breath for more details. Then eventually….

Get to Harlow Mill Station. From the station, walk to the river and then walk up the river (north, so that the river is on your left) for 15 minutes or so until you reach the site. It’s inaccessible by road, if you prefer not to walk up the river, you can get the river taxi up there which will be running all afternoon. Bands will be on from 9pm so arrive early to set up your tents beforehand.

Can you bring a van/bus? If you do you won’t be able to stay in it because you’ll still have to walk up the river to the site.

Dogs (and free range kids) - this is important!!! The place is right next to a railway line and the fence is pretty much non existent, so don’t bring them for their own sake! It’s just not safe for them there. So if I hear of anything happening to them after I’ve warned you I will personally visit and kick your arse.

Who’s playing? Palm Tree Club, The Paisanos, Nutty and the Blazers, Chicken Shed Zeppelin, The Tofu Love Frogs, … and plenty DJs after and between

Last minute notes: BRING A TORCH!!

So, I emerged from the railway station and headed off in search of the river. Being a bloke I did not bother asking, I just wandered. After ten minutes I decided that I was getting to wet too worry about things like being a bloke and asked someone where the river was. I then turned around and headed in the right direction instead.

Paddy had already text me to say that the ‘water taxi’ had broken down, so with a purposeful step I headed north, with the river on my left. I pondered on the location. The theory was that the plod would not have time to muster enough boats to raid the place and it was unlikely they were going to walk. As the purpose in my step diminished, I could see why the old bill would not be up for raiding it on foot.

Beautiful houseboats were moored along the banks of the river, generally far enough apart for them not to be able to intrude upon each other’s space. My mind drifted off to a week spent on the Norfolk Broads. Eventually I spied an armada of houseboats, or whatever the collective noun is, moored up together. These were less beautiful and had the look of a scrap yard about them. I guessed, correctly, that this was the place. The boats belonged to Paddy and his mates and before mooring up for the night had transported all the gear that was to be used for the party up the river.

Three blokes ambling in the other direction advised “When you get to the woods, take a right by the big gas bottle”. I was not sure if I should be flattered or insulted that they had recognised me as a party head.

As soon as I turned right into the woods, I had to negotiate a ditch about twenty feet wide and five feet deep. A rope for people to hang on to indicated that this was not a wrong turning but the easiest way to get to the party. I followed the sound of laughter till I reached another ditch, this time about fifteen foot deep and thirty feet wide. From the tarps stretched between the trees above and the sheets of plywood at the bottom I guessed that this was what passed for ‘the main arena’.

With the reflexes of a cat I managed to avoid being garrotted by the ropes holding the tarps up and found my way to the bottom of the ditch (sorry, to the dance floor) without a slip, trip or fall. I decided that rather than relax after my seven-hour train journey, the best plan of action was to strive on a little longer and get my tent up. Besides, there did not really appear to be anywhere to relax that did not involve rain or mud.

Kel (Tofu Axe Hero) was doing something roadie-like with the PA but took a few seconds out to say hello and point me in the direction of the huge slippery embankment I had to climb to get to the ‘camping field’. After conquering the south face of the camping field with only one near death experience, I surveyed the terrain to decide which patch of nettles I was going to pitch my tent on, then proceeded to erect my canvas abode; well, nylon actually but that does not have the same romantic connotations. Last summer came rushing back to me as I remembered what it was about my tent that was broken. The pole that holds out the mini-awning. No matter, I was going to be dry.

I then took a bit of a long cut, back down to the tow path then in past the gas bottle again; a tricky route, but considerably safer than abseiling down the wall of the dancehall. The worrier in me was trying to work out what the odds were of me getting through the night without going apex over base into a ditch (very good odds actually). I also wondered how long it would be before I walked straight into a tarp rope in the dark and if I could go twenty-four hours without having a shit (did I mention the absence of toilets, water, fire extinguishers or anything remotely health and safety related?).

I bumped into Paddy who looked like he was on a mission to do something technical, although it was not exactly clear what. I asked where the bar was. “Its down there Clint, where those dogs are fighting”. He paused for thought, “How many times do you have to tell people? But they don’t listen. Those dogs are going to get run over by a train before the weekend is out”.

I forgot to mention, the side of the site that was not bordered by the beautiful river, was bordered by the very same rail track that helped those Stanstead Express trains on their way.

I followed the sound of fighting dogs. I have to say, if these dogs had wandered onto the tracks, I would not have fancied the train’s chances of coming out unharmed.

I purchased my cider from the lean-to that passed for a bar and found a log to sit on next to the campfire. It was still raining so went for a wander to ‘explore’ the ‘site’. It came as no real surprise to discover that I had actually already seen all there was to see. In the grim reality of daylight it looked like the sort of party I would imagine results in the piles of cans by the side of the river I often find when going for a walk on a Sunday morning; but with a PA, which had yet to kick into life. I convinced myself that it would look better in the dark, even if it did mean the tarp ropes would be more dangerous. I decided to retire to the tent to read until it got dark; or stopped raining.

As darkness descended and reading without a torch became impossible, I headed back to the arena. I was right, it was starting to look more like a party now, more people had arrived, more tarps had gone up, more fires had been lit and a party atmosphere was descending; even if the PA was still showing no signs of life. It reminded me a little of the old Casbar parties in North Wales. There was a healthy contingent of veteran festival heads and aqua-crusties with a sprinkling of the local chavs up for a party. No security trying to charge a ‘door tax’, no dodgy dealers, no one with an attitude, just people out for fun and looking after themselves.

I spotted a rather dodgy looking bloke in a top heat serving hotdogs from a trestle table and kicked myself for not getting food when I was still in civilisation.

More wandering. More cider. I sat by a campfire and started chatting with a young girl. “I wish I had brought a torch with me” she commented. She asked my name. “Clint? Not Clint Iguana is it?” Fame at last! “I am Jenn”. It soon clicked, this was the Tofu’s webmistress; not quite as famous as I thought then.

“Should have taken your own advice and brought a torch then!” I quipped. We chatted for a while about the Tofus, Oxford and Bristol, then went our separate ways.

I was starting to get hungry now so asked dodgy chef guy if he had anything vegetarian. “The hot dogs are vegan”, I was advised by one of his assistants. Whilst I had no reason to doubt her, it was dark, she was pissed and they were serving food in the open air in the rain. She fished the packet out of the bin for me to prove their provenance and I handed over my cash. As I was waiting for the food to be delivered a young lad, who I assume was dodgy chef’s son, performed a free magic trick. The food was nice; I handed over more money, had another vegan hotdog and watched a young lad make an eyeball disappear.

The PA kicked into life, all be it intermittently. The party went up a gear. I went back to the ‘bar’. By now they had sussed my favourite tipple.

I bumped into Ade, erstwhile Tofu bass player, who informed me he was looking forward to watching the band from the audience for the first time, although he was intending to get up and sing at some point. Kel informed me that the guitarist with the first band had not turned up so the Tofu’s would be on in ten minutes. It seemed an odd set up, the main band coming on first, but it was late already and it meant I would not have to wait till sunrise to see the band I had travelled all this way for.

This was the moment we had all be waiting for. Under a leaky tarp, with electric plugs under water, with a broken bass guitar, on a sloping stage in the bottom of a ditch, in a wood miles from anywhere, the most hardcore folk band on the planet ripped into an hour and a half of no nonsense punk. New bass player Mikey was having trouble with his guitar, but with his charity shop suit on he looked like Isaac Hayes. Paddy, also in a charity shop suit, looked like Albert Steptoe. Kel was in metal mode and the set was rough, spiky and edgy.

You had to be there to appreciate it, but it suddenly all made sense. Who needs the ‘alternative’ bits of Glastonbury when you can have the Tofu Love Frogs playing at a free party in the woods? It don’t get much more D.I.Y. than this.

Ade got up and did his bit, then slowly the Tofus morphed into Ade’s new band Chicken Shed Zeppelin and entertained us all with their own take on bluegrass punk. Everyone enjoyed, even the local chavs were happy, despite the lack of repetitive beats. I slipped off into the night and fell asleep to the chunky-punky sound of the Passianos (or at least I think that is what they were called).

TRAINS TUBES AND WATER TAXIS

2009-06-27T19:55:00.003+01:00

I love travelling by train. A lot of people criticise the various train companies, making out they are late all the time and the service is poor, but I have not experienced any of this. Yes, there are occasional problems, but by and large they are efficient, comfortable and convenient. Today I am headed to Harlow Mill, just north of London and train is my transport of choice.

I sit on the train, which is on time, open my book, ‘A Year of Festivals’, and drift off to Roskilder with the author, Jarvis Hammond. You can’t get lost in a book when driving, well, not legally anyway. I manage to detach myself from my surroundings and drift away to the festival with Jarvis as my guide for almost one hundred miles. Then I notice we are just outside Reading. I look out of the window, then get back into the book. Roskilder comes to an end and we start heading for Latitude. I look out of the window again. We are still just outside Reading. We have not moved since I last dipped into reality. A voice that appears to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time announces that there are passengers are on the line, but soon corrects himself to say trespassers. I slip back into Jarvis. Well, more precisely, his book. My faith in the rail system is still in tact, its not First Great Western Trains fault that some Muppet has decided to go walk about on the track. For a moment my humanity slips and I think to myself that it would serve them right if the train just ran over them.

You can’t just stop and start trains when you feel like it. It’s not like the motorway; you have to fit in with the schedule of other trains. But because it was not their fault, I decide not to blame First Great Western for the train arriving in Paddington a full hour late. It is not as if I had any deadline to meet anyway. I stroll the length of platform one to get to the tube station, only to hear the tannoy announce that the Circle Line is being replaced by a bus due to engineering works. Well, you’ve got to work on the track sometime I suppose, it can’t be helped. Although walking back the way I just came, carrying my trusty rucksack and tent down to the other end of the station to jump on the Hammersmith Line was something I could have done without.

By the time I got to Liverpool Street I decided a cold Strongbow was in order, after all, I had plenty of time to get to Harlow. It did not take long anyway, it was a warm day and it went down so quickly I hardly had time to savour the refreshing apple taste. Then it was off to the machine to purchase my ticket. It was only when I had my ticket in hand that I realised that I did not know which train I needed to catch. The helpful lady at the information desk soon put that right. “Well, you really need to Cambridge train, but you just missed it and there is not another one for an hour. Your best bet is to get the half past express train to Stanstead but get off at Harlow Town, then get a connection to Harlow Mill”. The advice sounded fine to me so I took it (although I did wonder if it should be called the express train if it was making stops on the way).

I considered stocking up on refreshments for the festival but decided to get something in Harlow, thus avoiding carrying it any further than necessary. Then I sat on the ‘express’ train and opened up Jarvis again (you have a dirty mind you know). He was just landing at Stanstead Airport. An omen I thought, this is the train for me. The carriages soon filled up with weary travellers on their way home and excited travellers about to start their holiday. Then another voice from everywhere and nowhere announced signal problems directly outside the station, which were causing a delay to all trains departing from platforms one through to ten. I looked out the window. Platform seven. Never mind, Jarvis and I were having fun. The train started to fill up with people that had technically missed the train, or would have if it had been on time. Forty-five minutes later we started moving. The train had emptied a bit by now, some had already decided they were going to miss their flight and had resigned themselves to another night in ‘The Smoke’. I was not too concerned; I had been spending quality time in Spain (Latitude was history now). I was at Benicassim, soaking up the rays; this brought a really big smile to my face as I had recently purchased tickets for this year’s event! Then I remembered the ticket was for daughter number one, not me. We raced out through the north of London and out beyond the M25 and soon I was deposited in Harlow Town.

I had not been to Harlow before and was not sure of the geography. I considered walking to Harlow Mill; it could not be that far away. Then I remembered my 24 hours lost in Falkirk, purely because I got off at the wrong railway station, mistakenly thinking it was only a village. I went in search of the platform I needed for my connection to Harlow Mill. After wandering for ten minutes (no mean feat on a station as small as Harlow Town) I came to the conclusion that I needed to wait for the Cambridge train that was due to leave Liverpool Street on the hour. If I had waited I could have taken my time on another pint of big boys happy apple, instead of standing on the platform of a station in a depressing looking town reading the Samaritans sign wondering if I was in need of conversation.

It started to rain. Not any old rain, but old skool, hardcore, biblical rain. It was accompanied by thunder and lightening. Jarvis could not distract me from questions in my head about what shape my tent was in when I packed it away. I had a nagging feeling that there was something wrong with it, nothing that would stop me camping in on a beautiful sunny day, but might put me off camping in a monsoon. It stopped raining. I don’t recall seeing hail this late in June before, but now I was seeing it. Thoughts of my wellies back at home went through my head. The thought of changing platform and getting on the ‘express’ train to Liverpool Street went through my head.

Eventually the Cambridge train rolls into town and transports me from one end of Harlow to another with the speed only an hour late express train can. The hail has subsided back to just plain rain. A quick squint around the area reveals a trading estate, an Indian Restaurant, and a pub from a famous chain and a tool hire centre. No sign of an offy. I had no intention of getting soaked in a search for an off licence that might not even exist so I headed for the river. There had been a promise of a water taxi, but I had already been alerted to engine problems. This was not a good day for public transport. I headed ‘north, with the river on my left, for about 15 minutes’.

Perhaps it is about time I let you in on where I am headed.

Shortly after the Tofu Love Frogs reformed Paddy came up with the idea of Frogstock, a festival that would feature the Tofu Love Frogs and bands featuring ex Love Frogs and bands that had a remote connection with the Frogs. It did not happen in 2007. It did not happen in 2008 either. Paddy is never one to give up on a good idea (or a bad one), 2009 is to be the year of the Frogstock, all be it slightly scaled down from the original plan. And this is where I am headed.

PEPPERMINT IGUANA SEVEN

2009-06-25T21:58:00.002+01:00

Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, I give you ……. Cue drum roll. We have a new issue of Peppermint Iguana Zine!

After several nights burning the candle at both ends we now have issue seven of the zine in our hands. We have a bit of partying to do this weekend, but as soon as we get back we will be looking to upload the contents onto the iguana website.

We will, as usual, be getting them out and about at festivals gigs and stuff and putting them in some local record shops. if you have difficulty getting hold of one, leave a comment and we will get back to you.

UPDATE: 29:06:09... zine available from All Ages Records in Camden, probably the best punk record shop in London

POWERSTEPPERS INTERVIEW

2009-06-21T21:33:00.000+01:00

On a bit of a roll now. Have managed to get an edited version of the Powersteppers interview typed up and laid out in the zine. Looks like we might be on target to get the zine out before next weekend.

SONIC BOOM SIX

2009-06-19T13:37:00.004+01:00

Had a day off today to do something, which ended up not happening, so have been cracking on with Iguana stuff. Managed to sort out the Sonic Boom Six interview that, again, has been sitting on the Dictaphone without being typed up for an outrageous amount of time.

Done now … or at least a zine version is… and it is a cracker, really pleased with it. Laying it out for the mag now, will get it on line once the paper version is in the bag

CLUTCH ROCK

2009-06-17T23:59:00.003+01:00

Tonight Clutch rocked. Official.

Halfway between Download and the French Hellfest the Clutch tour bus rolled up outside the legendary TJs and they served up a dose of the finest American Blues rock to a packed house.

I don’t often go to gigs where beards and plaid shirts are the order of the day. And I don’t think I have seen bouncers who have clearly had one to many steroids swinging from the PA determined to make sure no one got over excited and enjoy themselves. Not in TJs anyway. The plaid shirts were not going to be put off by the roiders and merrily got on with their crowd surfing.

I don’t think the band were too impressed though and stormed off without an encore. An anti-climax to an otherwise wicked gig.

For those of you that have never heard Electric Worry, and those of you that have....

DICK LUCAS INTERVIEW

2009-06-16T21:46:00.004+01:00

Gordon Bennett. Just finally finished transcribing an interview I did with Dick Lucas last year. It has taken me ages. Boy can he talk! Boy does he have a lot of things to talk about! The Stupid Humans, The Subhumans, Culture Shock, Citizen Fish, The Clutton Brothers, Bluurg Records…. He has been one busy bee!

The interview was intended for the book, but I am now going to filter it down to go in the zine, which will basically involve cutting about 4,000 words (yes, that’s 4,000). Here goes…..

while you wait, here is another interview with him that is NOTHING to do with us...

OK are OK!

2009-06-15T22:32:00.006+01:00

Things have not quite gone to plan tonight, just about managed to get one review written up. However, it is a bit of a juicy album. Colin Powerstepper has kindly let us get our mits on a demo of a band that he is managing called OK.

They are pure 80s pop, in the style of The Smiths, Housemartins, Prefab Sprout, that kind of thing. Not normally what appears on the Iguana menu, but a tasty and refreshing change. We love it. The review can be found here.

And here be the video for the new single which is out today, available from i-tunes and all that malarkey

HILIGHT TRIBE

2009-06-15T00:10:00.004+01:00

Just downloaded the Hilight Tribe's 2008 album Trancelucid

BILLY BRAGG???

2009-06-15T00:06:00.001+01:00

Billy Bragg is playing Blackwood tonight. I like Billy Bragg. Tickets are £17. I don't like him that much. I am not going.

MOLARA INTERVIEW

2009-06-14T19:30:00.002+01:00

Molara interview edited and laid out for the zine now. This was something I did quite a while back over the phone. Because I was making notes rather than taping it I had to write it up fairly quickly before I forgot what was said, but only now have I got it laid out in the zine.

An extended version of this interview, combined with an interview with Colin Powerstepper, will probably make up a fairly substantial chapter in the book when it eventually comes together.

KILNABOY INTERVIEW

2009-06-14T15:44:00.003+01:00

Well, progress is a bit slower than we would have liked, but we now have a version of an interview conducted with Cardiff’s very own Kilnaboy typed up and laid out. It was conducted in a very noisy pub in Cardiff on 23rd May, after the Cardiff Anarchist Bookfair, and before a benefit gig for the same.

Its not word for word, cos I could not make out half of what was said, but I am sure they were too pissed to argue with any of my quotes. Will put a version on line as soon as I have the zine sorted.

ZINE TIME

2009-06-13T17:23:00.007+01:00

Taking photographs of railway stations at sunset. One of many things I have been doing when not getting on with the zine

Its that time of year, festivals are around the corner and I ought to be thinking about another zine. Given that I have settled on producing one zine a year, you would think it would be a simple task. I have a knack of making the simplest of things difficult though. I spend a year conducting interviews, accumulating CDS to review and reading books but I still end up rushing the zine together at the last minute. Every year I think to myself, “I will write things as and when they happen so next year it will only take ten minutes”, but it never happens.

This year, things have been complicated by the fact that I have started writing a book on the DIY music scene. The interviews have been much more detailed, and I have been collecting anecdotes from the past, jotting down memories from bye gone years as and when they return to my addled brain. My ‘other’ life (work) has been pretty complicated to say the least, with lots of travelling and long hours. Oh, and I have travelled the length and breadth of the country watching the famous Cardiff City FC.

All excuses really, it is not as if I have not had the time to sit down and knock out a few CD reviews, it is just my brain has been elsewhere. I suppose this is down to me being born in the year of the Water Tiger (any old excuse).

So, time to knock out a zine in double quick time ready for the festival season … which makes my decision to resurrect this blog all the more strange, but I am back. Hold tight, here we go!

NEW PEPPERMINT IGUANA ZINE OUT

2008-07-02T17:36:00.004+01:00

Taking a hard earned rest after countless late nights working on the zine

Bloody hell, loads happening but no blogging goin’ on! That’s because recent weeks have seen us in a mad rush to get another issue of the zine out. We give ourselves a year to put out an issue but it always ends up one mad rush as we approach festival time. Well folks, we can now officially announce that the latest issue of Peppermint Iguana the Zine is out now!

It contains recent highlights from this ‘ere website, plus loads of new stuff. Recent weeks have been a bit hectic getting it together and we have not had time to upload stuff to the website, so that process will start shortly. We are out and about at festivals for the next few weeks, so we will get onto it when we dry out.

There is an interview with Nik Turner finally written up to go along with The Tofu Love Frogs, Inner terrestrials, Ozric tentacles, and The Don Bradmans; plus articles on F.I.T. Watch (no, not like bay watch, it stands for Forward intelligence Team), aliens over Wales, 9/11 conspiracy theories and a shed load of reviews of CDs and books that have we have been too slack to do in recent months. In the mean time, keep an eye out for us at festivals and get ya copy while it’s hot. If you want to buy a copy mail order, send us a message innit.

Cardiff City : 1970s - 2008 : a fans perspective

2008-05-16T10:42:00.002+01:00

first shown on the BBC in the run up to the FA cup.... one of the best little doccumentaries on football i have ever seen ..... spot on in every way

The Road to Wembley.... in lego!

2008-05-15T10:35:00.002+01:00

PART ONE

PART TWO

created by weevil888

FREE MASH UP BOOTLEG: Courtesy of GHP

2008-05-11T11:10:00.001+01:00

Mark Vilder, AKA Go Home Productions, has produced a bootleg album of mash ups... to down load it for free, go here

2008 FESTIVAL LISTING

2008-05-05T14:22:00.004+01:00

The 2008 Peppermint Iguana Festival Listing has been uploaded to the main website.

Last year's festival season was interesting, to say the least. We had some really hot weather, but we also had some of the worst summer flooding the UK has seen for decades. As a result some festivals proved to be a little bit ‘challenging’. On top of that the forces of law and order forced some festivals to go for slightly over the top security to ‘target harden’ them against terrorist attack! What will they think of next?

For the last year or so we have some really cool grass roots festivals sprouting up which has been great news for festival goers who are now presented with so many festivals happening it is physically impossible to attend them all without getting involved in multiple cloning. This is not so great news for festival organisers though, with there now being so much competition that some festivals have been struggling financially.

The challenges listed above, and others, have resulted in a few casualties this year; Eastern Haze, a festival with tremendous potential will not be happening again; Ashton Court has closed the gates for the last time after 35 years; The Big Green gathering will not be big this year, in fact it will be non-existent, mainly due to the ‘target hardening’ nonsense we mentioned above. Amazingly after several years of selling 150,000 tickets within a few hours, even Glastonbury (PLC) is struggling to sell tickets for this year’s event.

Some festivals are surviving though and some have sold out already. There are also a few new events this season, and looking at the calendar there are events just about everywhere in the UK, so there is no excuse for anyone to not find them stood in a filed soaking up the music at least once this year. Just make sure you take your wellies and your factor 15 sun cream and expect the unexpected. Remember, there is no such thing as bad weather, merely inappropriate clothing.

FREAKED OUT AND FUNKED UP: Acid Mothers Temple live in Cardiff

2008-04-28T23:06:00.004+01:00

I must have been to a freakier gig than this, MUST have, but I cant for the life of me think when. Tonight’s gig with the Acid Mothers Temple really would take some beating on the freaked out steaks.

For the uninitiated, The Acid Mothers Temple are a wigged out Japanese experimental psychedelic jazz rock crew that take on a myriad of forms and… well, just read about them here.

I have loved the concept of the band for a long time now but have found their albums very difficult to get into. A friend of mine tried to explain it to me once, he said, “Their music is so difficult you have to try really hard to appreciate it, so hard it hurts, it takes a while but when it clicks it is like a revelation, like suddenly understanding differential calculus”. Personally I like my rock ‘n roll simple.

Undeterred by the difficult albums I went to see them a while ago and discovered that live they really are something else, one of the most amazing live bands I have ever seen. Not catching them again was never really an option.

Zipadee doodah

I suppose it should not have come as any surprise that tonight was to be something completely different from that first gig. COMPLETELY different. They were supposed to be playing as a three piece but the bass player was taken ill so they just carried on regardless as a two-piece.

Things were weird from the off. They started with playing the zips on their jackets. Yes, that’s right, zips. I have no idea what was going on, I assume some sort of pick up was attached to the zip, then put through a distortion pedal and the volume turned right up. Jaw dropping weirdness.

Scissors... the cutting edge of avant guard

Water music, Handel would have been proud

Then they got a bit more serious and started playing scissors, followed by empty bottles of water and then cameras. You had to be there to appreciate it.

When a third of your band is missing, what is the obvious thing to do? well in the case of the Acid Mothers, the guitarist goes outside for a smoke for 30 minutes while the drummer plays solo. Obvious really. It was not quite a drum solo, there was some sort of backing track thing going on which in my book spoilt it a bit, I think I would have preferred something more traditional. Traditional is not what you get at an Acid mothers gig though, so I suppose I have no right to complain. It did remind me of that famous Tony Wilson quote “Jazz musicians enjoy themselves more than anyone listening to them does.”

Jimmy Page has a lot to answer for.. but somehow i think this lot would have thought of violin bows without him

When the guitarist came back on stage the drummer buggered off for half an hour. Somewhere along the way I actually recognised one of the numbers, their ‘signature’ tune, ‘Pink Lady Lemonade’. The crowd were mesmerised and stood watching in awe all night long.

A slightly more traditional end to the show.

Eventually we get the ‘full’ band back on stage and brains are fried for a spectacular climax.

LIKE A DAY AT THE SEASIDE: Cardiff 3 Blackpool 1

2008-04-12T18:10:00.006+01:00

"There's only one Ninian park!"

Today we opted for something we have not done for a VERY long time. There was a time when football specials used to take us all the way to Ninian Park halt without needing to change. These days, if you want to go to Ninian Park you have to change at Cardiff Central… no big deal but for some reason it is something we have never bothered to do…. until today. Living next to a railway station it’s almost door-to-door for me, so maybe we will try it again.

"Easy, easy, easy!"

Anyway…. Today’s opposition were Blackpool. No matter who the opposition were it was always going to be a good atmosphere with it being the first home game since the victory in the FA cup Semi final. As it turned out City were on top form and we were unlucky to go into half time with only one goal in the net.

Anarcho Prawn

You can tell it is coming close to the end of an era, even on the Grange end people are starting to sample the joys of prawn sandwiches.

Watching the game on a TV plonked on top of the Grange End bogs

The atmosphere underneath the Grange was relaxed as everyone was trying to get their heads around the fact that we are in the final of the FA Cup. Yes, it was fun… and only slightly annoying that we ended up watching Sinclair’s second goal on the TV in the bar.

The rustic charm of the Grange end. I will miss it when it's gone

Then it was back up to watch the game in the flesh, again we missed the third goal, this time because it was obscured by a haircut!

The station next to the ground. Why on earth do we not use it more?

The consolation goal by Blackpool did not dent the atmosphere and soon it was back to the platform to get the train straight home.

The new ground shaping up nicely in the distance

QUE SERA, SERA, WE'RE GOING TO WEMBELEY... AGAIN!

2008-04-06T23:40:00.011+01:00

A slightly longer and more in depth football blog than unusual … but hey, these are unusual times, you never know when we might be in this position again.

02:00 Sparky was around. We were unable to sleep due to being like kids on Christmas eve, we decided to stay awake all night.

02:30 fell asleep knackered

Wayne with his traditional welsh kilt

06:30 up and ready for the charabang to Wembley

Sparky... can't stay awake, wont stay awake

08:00 on bus. Due to recent problems with bus company, bus was strictly ‘dry’. I think this is probably the first time EVER I have been on a dry bus to football. Started out listening to the special ‘road to Wembley’ singalong cd I prepared earlier. No one sung along. Sparky went straight back to sleep.

Sparky finally comes to life... ish

11:00 Arrived at a pub in the middle of no-where on an industrial estate near Heathrow. It had been pre-arranged, so they were expecting us, but you wouldn’t have guessed it. Within an hour they had run out of Strongbow. Several people ordered food. The ginger whinger ordered lamb shank. Lamb shank arrived but did not have enough veg on the plate to keep the whinger happy. He whinged. When he cut into the lamb it was uncooked. He whinged and took it back. Chef had to cut short his shift cleaning out the blockage in the toilet to stick the lamb in the microwave. Some of us retired to the beer garden for fresh air.

Ginger Whinger wishes he had gone for the curry, Ashes gets ready to stab him if he touches it.

The legendary lamb shank finally arrives

Fresh air in the beer garden

Wet heads ready to get on a dry bus

13:15; Back on the bus for final leg of trip. Bus still dry but spirits slightly wetter after the pub stop. We have ‘Top gear greatest driving anthems’ to keep us ‘entertained’.

No room at the Inn

14:30(ish) arrived near Wembley. Pubs all full so we took advantage of the off licence and had a drink outside Mahatma Ghandi’s house.

Spot the regular city fan

Mmmmmm....

Something special must be happening... is that a smile?

Cardiff in the area

15:30 (ish) headed into the stadium. Had a quick look at the prices behind the bar (Pie and a pint £7) and agreed that standing in the street drinking cans had definitely been the best option.

15:50: met up with the Cardiff branch of the gang (the ones that had queued for hours to get our tickets and without whom this trip would not have been happening, bless ‘em) and found seats

16:00… this is it, Cardiff city really are playing at Wembley!

"Sit down and behave yourself!" Would you want to sit behind this bunch?

16:04 middle aged, middle class couple ask really nicely if they could swap seats with a few of us.. if we were going to stand up they could not see.

16:06 less polite couple ask some of the gang to sit down less politely. Handbags are swung.

"All we are singinging.. is give us a goal"

16:09: Joe Ledley scores (the other end from us.. so no pic)…. Everyone stands up! We then begin 80 minutes of nail biting; have seen us blow it in the last minute too many times to be happy until the last whistle.

Barnsley, whats the score?

Sparky still not sure if he is awake ... or just dreaming

"Lets all have a disco!"

17:50: Tears of joy roll as it sinks in that Cardiff city really are in the final of the FA cup for the first time since 1927. The Cardiff end of the stadium roars like a roaring thing on St Roaring day. We hang around for ages soaking it up.

Lap dancer brings around the champers

18:30: back to bus, which has parked in the perfect place for a sharp exit to avoid all the traffic.

20:30 the final four arrive on the bus so we can now make our exit not worrying about traffic cos everyone has gone. On trip home the dry restrictions were lifted slightly, cider and even champagne flowed. The ‘Top Gear’ cd is ditched and the singalong cd is given a reprieve. Oddly, everyone sings along. ‘Oi Clint, this cd sounds ten times better when you are pissed’ remarks one critic.

Words fail me for this one... i think the picture says it all

We arrive home and try to get our heads around whether or not we are dreaming…. An already thinking of the scramble to get tickets to do it again on the 17^th may, cos ....
CARDIFF CITY ARE IN THE FA CUP FINAL!

FA CUP FINAL REHEARSAL? Cardiff 0 West Brom 0

2008-04-01T22:49:00.000+01:00

With both Cardiff and tonight’s opposition, West Brom, both involved in FA cup semi finals later this week, it was always going to be a strange game. Would both teams be taking it easy to avoid injury for the big games? Would they be going flat out to ensure a place in the side at Wembley? Would they be going for the psychological advantage of a win, should it come to a rematch in the final? Would all thoughts of Wembley be put out of mind and thoughts be on the little matter of promotion to the premiership?

Prior to kick off a large, but not massive, special Wembley flag was unveiled and given a trial run across the bottom of the half filled bob bank. Mmmmm. If that comes over my head at Wembley I will not be pleased.

Then on to the game. Both managers were resting top names, City actually played the second half without a striker on the pitch, but that did not deter from the excitement. Those that were on the pitch seemed to be making an extra special effort to impress the respective managers. Trevor Sinclair, fresh back from injury, was on top form, if he does not start on Sunday, there will be something wrong.

In the end, a nil nil draw. In the past I have stated (only half joking) that I would rather us lose than draw nil nil, cos it is just boring, but I have to say this was one of the most exciting end to end games I have seen for ages, shame there were no strikers around to put the icing on the cake.

Oh… and this has little to do with this game, but I love this Trevor Sinclair goal from 1997 when he was playing for QPR... as it happens against our opponents at Wembley this weekend, Barnsley… enjoy

CITIZEN FISH: live in a dive

2008-03-28T23:59:00.002Z

With a little bit of help from Blind Destruction, Gagged (South Wales’ very own anarchist newsletter) put on yet another blinding benefit gig. Again, the Legendary TJs was again chosen as the venue.

We were pleasantly surprised to find that you did not need breathing apparatus to use the gents; obviously the venue is looking to upgrade its reputation. Then again, on exiting the bog we discovered a huge bin in the middle of the dance floor to catch the rain that was coming in from the ceiling (presumably travelling through the three floors above before getting to the nightclub), so the clever dumb balance was once again restored.

For someone who prefers to watch live music out doors, I am being very picky here… lets get on with the review…..

KILNABOY

Kilnaboy were on early, maybe it was their desire to keep away from the water on the dance floor, in case they had to either A) drink it neat or B) wash in it (sorry lads and lass, couldn’t resist it). Their sets definitely seem to be getting punkier every time we see them, now sounding like a punk band that play folk, rather than a folk band that play punk. They have been getting up and having a bash at just about every opportunity for quite some time now, turning up everywhere like some sort of anarchist stalker (are they really MI5 in disguise?). All that practice is starting to show, no matter how drunk they get they still somehow manage to put on a show that gets everyone moving, from the old heads staffing the bookstalls to the young guns looking for some fun. Tonight is no exception and the dance floor soon becomes a Temporary Autonomous Moshpit.

SPANNER

Spanner don’t get quite as much practice as Kilnaboy but they still manage to improve every time we see them, which is quite a feat considering how good they were the first time we saw them. Charging over the river Severn, eager to show solidarity with comrades in arms, they bombard the gathered clans with high-octane ska punk, diluting the rain on the floor with the sweat of the bodies thrashing about. When they hit the stage they start with a rallying call… “Get involved with South Wales Anarchists, they are doing some serious work and having a good time while they are at it”. Ditto Spanner. They know exactly what has to be done, they don’t shirk from doing it, but they also know that you can have a laugh while you are at it. Spanner… serious fun!

CITIZEN FISH

If you wanna talk about practice, hard working Citizen Fish put everyone else to shame. Averaging about 200 gigs a year for the last 18 years, not to mention the fact that half the band also tour as The Subhumans, you have a seriously polished ska punk machine. Ramming their songs with pretty astute social observations and anarchist critique, it is almost a shame to put them to music so intense and high energy, but as singer Dick puts it mid set “look, if you wanna know what this song is about, go over there, buy the CD and read the lyrics. Mean time, lets dance!” Like a whippet running rings around a police dog, Dick charges around the stage putting kids half his age in the crowd to shame. The music, although played at break neck speed, is precise and polished. Citizen fish, in a pond of their own.

DOING IT AT HOME IS KILLING THE INDUSTRY: Keep doing it!

2008-03-18T17:33:00.002Z

a couple of images that tickled me......

and the funniest of the lot...........

CAMDEN: A bit like Glastonbury.. i.e. not as good as it used to be

2008-03-12T18:04:00.001Z

Had to go to london today. Had some time to kill so went to Camden, which was within walking distance of where i had to be. I used to love Camden and i have had many happy hours there. Its been getting more and more plastic over the years but still had a bit of character.

Today though, I really struggled to find anything of interest. Now that a huge part of the market has burned down I fear for what is left, no doubt it will just turn into a town like every other, full of chain stores.

Mornington Crescent Station was the only thing i felt like taking a photo of. They don't build em like that anymore..... and they dont often name games after em!

CARDIFF CITY ON THE WAY TO WEMBLEY!!!!!!!

2008-03-09T16:00:00.003Z

YEEEESSSS!!!!

For the first time since 1927 (when they one the final)
Cardif city are on the way to Wembley
for the semi final of the FA cup. It was never in doubt after going ahead in the first 9 minutes. They dominated the game thoughout and dumped Premiership outfit Midelsborough with ease, final score 2 nill to City.

INNER TERRESTRIALS INTERVIEW

2008-03-09T11:28:00.002Z

Inner Terrestrials’ website proudly proclaims that they are ‘London’s most havin’ it punk band’. A bold claim maybe, but one that would be difficult to argue with. For 15 years they have been bombarding gigs, parties, squats and festivals with their sonic arsenal of punked up ska dub and folk. Their politics are every bit as uncompromising as their music and they do their best to shake the system as much as they shake dance floors.

In February 2008 the I.T. battle bus rolled into Newport, we managed to catch up with guitarist and vocalist J to discuss the current state of the ‘underground’, both musical and political. Check the PEPPERMINT IGUANA WEBSITE for full interview

UP YOUR'S RICHARD BRANSON: A rant about the music industry

2008-03-01T07:47:00.006Z

For the music 'industry', these are the only notes they care about

I have been thinking a lot lately about the music ‘industry’. Despite the fact that I live for my music, it seems that the ‘industry’ live on a different planet to me. A good example would be to take a look at the recent Brit Awards. 2008 and Take That win not one but TWO awards.. What the hell is that all about? The judges really need to get out more.

Although, perhaps it is a case that they are out too much, being wined and dined by the ‘industry’, everyone slapping each other on the back, lining each others pockets and laughing all the way to the bank after another good year of ripping off the spoon-fed record buying public.

I always have trouble with this, these artists sell millions of records, am I an elitist snob, deliberately liking outsiders purely to demonstrate how cool I am? Do I have the right to criticise what other people want to buy?

I don’t think I am a snob. Look in my record collection, you will find Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Bob Marley, the Stone Roses, Paul Weller, Goldfrapp, Groove Armarda… all mega selling artists. If something is good, I will buy it. But the vast majority of crap shoved down our throats by the industry is at best a watered down and sanitised version of what is going on out on the ‘street’; at worst, manufactured, plastic tripe.

The problem for me is that music is an art form, NOT an industry. Music comes from the heart; it is an expression of emotion. Music can make you want to dance, lie down, laugh, cry, make love or get up and fight someone. All the ‘industry’ is interested in is making you put your hand in your pockets. The heads of the big record labels are not interested in creating a piece of art that will be remembered for years, they are business men and want to create something that lots of people will buy.

I recently read ‘Rock Stars at Rockfiled’, the story of the legendary Welsh recording studio. I enjoyed it, there have been a lot of class acts that have passed through the doors and it is only a few miles up the road. It gave an insight into how some of the records in my collection were created, with the added bonus of (for me) local interest. But it struck me how much influence the record labels had in the making of some of the albums. There were tales of bands spending months making an album, sending it to the record company only for them to send it back saying “wrong, do it again”. How can it be wrong? It is what the musicians wanted to make. Obviously it is wrong because the record company don’t think it will sell, artistic merit counts for nothing.

The irony of it all is that no new music trend has ever come out of a record executive’s office. Artistic imagination comes from the street. Soul, jazz, punk, reggae, techno, drum ‘n bass, hip hop… you name it, it came from kids coming up with ideas themselves and making music themselves in the garage, the shed, the bedroom, the local church hall. Only after it has been designed and tested on the street will the ‘industry’ touch it. They are out there all the time looking for the ‘next big thing’ and occasionally try to create it (remember Cool Britannia and Cool Cymru?) but executives sat in the boardroom will never understand what it is really all about.

More often than not when the ‘industry’ gets hold of something they quickly milk it to death and it becomes so sanitised it completely loses its meaning. ‘Indie’ music, on a major label… what’s that all about?

Suicide Bid, mates making music for the fun of it.... and making it well

What IS it all about then? Well for me it means being in a sweaty little club experiencing a band up close and personal, where the boundary between band and audience is broken down; listening to music created by musicians who are more interested in making music than making money; bands being original and experimental.

It is about networking and making friends. I have put on gigs with bands like New Model Army. I was paying them a substantial wage for the night, but they did not even talk to me, I had to deal with their manager and they whinged about everything from the ryder to the dressing room. I have put on gigs with bands like the Tofu Love frogs, PAIN and Inner Terrestrials, they did not complain about anything, they crashed out in my house after and are now big mates that always make a point of saying hello; they have put me on to other bands and promoters helping extend the Iguana circle. That is what it is all about.

It is NOT about paying through the nose (if you can get a ticket) to sit down ten miles away from the stage, being ripped off for drinks and t-shirts, pushed about by bouncers to watch a band through binoculars. It is NOT about boring derivative music created by people who will do whatever they need to do to become rich and famous with the music being an after thought.

Good music can become popular, not all big names are plastic, but that is more by accident than design; it is the exception rather than the rule.

Is this all snobbery? Does ‘keeping it real’ mean putting up with bands that are only ‘underground’ because they are crap? Quite simply, NO. Just take a look at the Peppermint Iguana website, or Organ, or any number of webzines and you will find hundreds, probably thousands of wicked bands doing it themselves for people like themselves. Yes, among all the brilliant bands there are shed loads of crap bands, but at least they aint ripping you off.

That’s another thing… even if a band are crap, they are usually real people and if you are all rammed into some crappy little dive you can find yourself having a laugh at the bar with the band, the DJ, the promoter or whoever, they tend not to lock themselves away back stage. I once had the ‘honour’ of doing some back stage work with one of my all time favourite bands, Stiff Little Fingers; what a bunch of premadonas, I have not spent a penny on them since. The camaraderie on the DIY scene makes up for the musical failings of any of the bands, the bands are growing up in public, everyone has a good night out. As far as I am concerned, you can stick the industry up your arse.

WORLDS BIGGEST RECORD COLLECTION IS CR@P SHOCK

2008-03-01T07:27:00.002Z

Is he checking the song writing credits, or the price tag?

The undisputed largest personal record collection in the world went on sale recently. Containing 3 million records and 300,000 CDs making a total of more than 6 million song titles. Unfortunately, the collection is pretty shite.

In an interview with Mojo Magazine he stated. “I catalogue most majors. I don’t seek out punk or indie unless it’s local, but most major stuff I’ll save”. Granted there will a few classic albums in there, but by ignoring punk and indie he has left a MAJOR gap in his collection. Would I swap his collection for mine? No.

The fact that he is selling it says a lot, obviously not a real music lover… or maybe he has finally realised himself it’s a crock.

THINKING THE UNTHINKABLE: Cardiff City 2: Wolverhampton Wanderers 0

2008-02-16T17:15:00.008Z

That third goal was elusive, but in the end un-necessary ;)

With the run at the promotion play off places erratic to say the least, a good cup run would be a welcome boost to the morale, not to mention the coffers of Cardiff City.

And that is what City are doing, a win against Wolves would have meant a place in the quarter finals of the FA cup for the first time since 1927 (the year we won)…. And a win we had, but not just a win, a very convincing win, with two goals in the first 8 minutes they never looked even close to coming back.

Brummie Mark says hello to his brother who has come down for the game

The atmosphere on the grange end was amazing, fans were celebrating the footballing history being made in front of our eyes, but it was made even sweeter by the fact that it was a victory over Wolves, a team with which there is no love lost between fans.City fans march off into the sunset

Victory in the next round means a trip to Wembley!

Wolves fans climb the fence to wish us asafe jouney home

And we wish them a safe journey home!

And everybody goes home safely

GROWING UP

2008-02-09T17:03:00.002Z

You know you are getting old when your kids are old enough to legally buy you a pint (now if they actually get 'em in, that would be grown up)

BREAKING THE CHAINS: Inner Terrestrials @ TJs

2008-02-08T23:59:00.006Z

Tonight we headed once more to the Legendary TJs for a benefit gig to raise funds for Cardiff Anarchist Prisoner Support Group. The bill was looking good, quite varied, and a shed full of old faces in the crowd was guaranteed.

As we walked in it looked like a scene from the Anarchist Bookfair, with stalls run by South Wales Anarchists, Cardiff Prisoner Support, Gwent Hunt Sabs and the Keble Cooperative in evidence.

TJs is famous throughout the world for being where many big American bands played their first UK gigs. The stars in the making don’t come around so much now, but the legend lives on. Like so many little clubs that have played their part in Rock ’n roll history, it is a bit of a dive; that is part of its charm though.

DIRTY REVOLUTION

First up were Ska-diff’s Dirty Revolution, a name we have been hearing for some time now but have not got around to catching. Very quickly we were kicking ourselves, why have we not caught them before? A wicked blend of ska/dub/punk and attitude, they were just what we needed to get us limbering up for what was to come. Lively, skankalicous and thought provoking. We will be watching out for these again.

THE REJECTIED

Then came The Rejected. Hardcore punk like only Newport can produce. Loud, shouty and angrier than a pit bull with his balls on fire. Unlike the three wise monkeys, they see evil, they hear evil and they speak about evil. The world is sleep walking into mindless compliance and these guys are here to wake us up with a baseball bat, sending out an alarm call at the top of their voices.

KILNABOY

Things calm down a bit after the rejected, but not much, with the ever-present black flag waving, welly stompin’, waistcoat wearin’, mandolin pluckin’, beer swillin’, G8 hatin’ Kilnaboy. Being in a band is not just an option of these boys, it is compulsory; they have to make music, they have to turn up wherever people are resisting they system and they have to make you all jig about and smile while filling them Molatovs. Maybe it was the surroundings, maybe it was the company they were keeping, but from where we were stood it felt like tonight’s set was a little punkier than usual. The moshers up the front weren’t complaining.

INNER TERRESTRIALS

Then it was the main attraction, Inner Terrestrials. These guys have been about a bit, and you can tell. They glide through a set of old classics and new numbers with an ease only old hands can pull off. While the dance floor becomes a frantic blurred pit of sweat and snot, IT stand there on stage smiling at each other like brothers that have done this so many times they can communicate with the nod of a head and a turn of the eye. They are well and truly at home on stage and despite their contempt for the system that controls our lives, they love the brother and sister hood of the resistance, they love being outsiders and most importantly they love making music.

They drift seamlessly from full on punk attack, through folky rebellion, to skanking dub and back without batting an eyelid. They deftly turn their hand to whatever style fits with a natural ease, displaying a talent and imagination that can so often be missing from the ‘angry brigade’ of the punk front line.

The gathered unwashed lap it all up, throwing themselves around in reckless abandon. But there is something different. Despite the intensity of it all, it is not an exclusively male environment, the revolution is not going to be patriarchal and the mosh is open to all.

Amongst the crowd is the son of Stig, the late singer with Icons Of Filth. I.T. drag him out of the crowd to sing the old Clash favourite ‘Guns Of Brixton’, a moment that is moving without being sentimental. That is I.T. all over, they know how to do things differently and with style, always unpredictable yet always reliable.

The old faces we had expected were more than satisfied with the performance and, perhaps more importantly, the new faces that had wandered in on the off chance were converts to the I.T. cause. That is another thing about them; they are also irresistible.

Expect a new interview with IT on the main PEPPERMINT IGUANA website soon

RIPPED AND SCRATCHED

2008-01-29T20:26:00.000Z

Purely by accident we happened across the blog ALWAYS SEARCHING FOR MUSIC. It is run by ‘Garychching’ and appears to be him ripping old stuff (mainly punk) off vinyl, uploading it as MP3s into cyber space and posting links.

As I type we are bopping around to the classic punk compilation from 1977 ‘STREETS’. A quick look down the previous posts reveals a wealth of forgotten ‘old skool’ punk classics, dating back to days of old, when punks were bold and mohicans had not been invented, like LONDON, THE ART ATTACKS and… just go and look for yourself. I am sure we will be clicking on the old ‘save target as’ button quite a bit in weeks to come. This is what blogs are for! Nice one Gary.

TOFU LOVE FROGS INTERVIEW (and stuff)

2008-01-27T16:51:00.000Z

No car and a potentially unwelcome garage bill means self imposed house arrest, cleaning the kitchen and updating the website. Hence ……

TOFU LOVE FROGS INTERVIEW: Yes, the Tofu’s are back. Those of you that have been with us for a while will have fond memories of gigs they did for us ‘back in the day’. They were fast, they were furious, they were entertaining and they were messed up on drugs. Has old age got the better of them? Are they shadows of their former selves, just old codgers going through a mid life crisis? The simple answer is no, the only difference is that they now have to take more drugs to get where they used to be… and they do. Read about why they split, what they have been up to, why they got back together and what they plan to do in the future. Expect tales of drugs, losing fingers in boat accidents, weddings at Nenah Cherry’s house, anarchy and e-bay.

GIG GUIDE: A gig guide was always an integral part of the concept of the Iguana Website, which makes it rather odd that we have been online for nine months and have only just got around to it. It is in its early stages and as we type only has dates for February, but keep an eye on it, we be getting there slowly (Cue Al iguana shaking his head in disbelief of the amateurishness of it all). If you hear of anything we should add, let us know.

VIDEO BLOG: After a long period of inactivity we are now posting daily video blogs… well, every couple of days anyway. Check out some of the hottest new bands and some golden oldies

That be it for now, we wont detain you any longer, you are no doubt all in a rush to head on over to http://www.peppermintiguana.co.uk. You will find links to all the new stuff on the front page. While you are at it.. why not join the mailing list? Go to the bottom of the home page and bung your e-mail in.

S.A.T. keeps 'em comin'

2008-01-23T16:10:00.000Z

You can find another blinder of a mix from S.A.T. on Boombox… the man is relentless, I am going to break into his house to rob his record collection. Download it here

First away trip of season proves to be memorable

2008-01-19T23:59:00.000Z

Well…. yet another attempt to breath life into this ‘ere blog.

Today me and the Spark drove up to the Midlands to watch West Bromwich Albion V Cardiff City, our first away game of 2008.

We knew that the West Midlands Old Bill were a pain in the arse and would mess the busses about and were quite pleased with how smooth everything went in terms of getting to the game. The busses were taken in convoy from the services (four miles from the ground) on a guided tour that started off an hour before kick off and ended up with the buses arriving at the ground 20 minutes after kick off (what planet are these pratts in blue on, were they trying to start trouble?). We were oblivious to this though, arriving undetected by the old bill and wandering around at will. Really glad we drove rather than went by bus.

The Game was a cracker; with City going ahead 30 seconds after kick off and staying ahead till almost the final whistle. It was end-to-end stuff and the equaliser ironically coming from a City own goal. Final score WBA 3 Cardiff City 3. Nothing to be ashamed of, travelling away to the top of the table and giveng them a run for their money.

The journey home started well, apparently there was a similar run around for the busses on the way home as well. We just walked back to the car park and drove off. Our luck was not to last though, broke down on the M50 with major car trouble. The RAC (when the finally arrived) were flummoxed, so we came home on the back of a truck. Still better than being messed about by the forces of law and order though.

REVOLUTIONARY DREAMS

2007-10-29T23:55:00.000Z

Not posted anything about free downloads for ages… so here be a quick mention of something that will have you lubricating your living room.

Our old friend SAT has a new mix, Revolutionary Dreams available on BoomBox and it has to be said it is one of his best, some mighty fine funky stuff.. some of it new, some of it reworkings of stuff that will be familiar. Drop by his myspace and follow the links of go straight to BoomBox. You will note that there are two dub mixes there that he put together earlier this year… down load them as well.. crucial!

While we are at it, we were looking at some of the links he has given on his myspace to the artists on this latest offering, and we came across BelgaBootlegs, where there are loads of mash up mpfrees to down load. Gwan, give ya lugs a treat.

THERE BE DRAGONS

2007-10-27T23:32:00.000+01:00

Hay on Fire has been happening for a good few years now. The last one we went to must be about 15 years ago, but we are not sure if they have had one every year since then. Basically, it is a cross between a pagan Halloween thing, a battle re-enactment, a firework display and .. well, a few other things chucked in for good measure.

There had been things going on most of the day, lantern making workshops, Morris dancing with fire etc, but because of the weather we waited till late and headed up in time to get a good view of the lantern procession.

Hay on Wye is a nice little town, it is in the record books for having more books shops per head of population than any other town in the world, and it is home the Hay Cinema bookshop, the largest second hand bookshop in the world. The Valleys, it is not.

The procession was led by a steam engine, piercing the air with its whistles and bringing with it thoughts of a dragon straight out of the industrial revolution. Behind it all manner of dragons, dancers, drummers and lantern carriers. Off we were led, through the town, through the village and down to the river.

Once at the river we were treated to a feast of flame and sparks to invoke the spirit of times gone by in some far off Tolkien land. Fireworks illuminates the sky, dragons raced around the field and minstrels made merry as the bookworms gathered on the embankment overlooking the arena.

We wont wait 15 years to go again.

LET'S GET THIS BLOG BACK ON THE ROAD

2007-10-27T10:00:00.000+01:00

Liverpools legendary Kop, watch out lads, the Blue Army is coming... calm down calm down

I was so pleased with myself, managing to keep this blog going for so long, updated on a regular basis. Things seem to have fallen by the wayside though. No point going into the reason for that, I am sure I have mentioned them before, but in an effort to kick-start some life back into this site, here is an A-Z of what is in my head this morning.

ANFIELD: Tickets have arrived today for Cardiff city’s first game against Liverpool in 50 odd years in the legendary (and soon to be demolished) scouse ground.
BEATRIX POTTER: Just watched her life story on DVD with my little un
CRUMPETS: What I wanted for breakfast this morning
DON BRADMANS: Got to get my head around writing up the interview I did with them in the summer
EATER: Ordered a CD by them ages ago and it has not arrived yet, must chase it up
FIRE: Off to Hay On Wye later for this years Hay on Fire
GRANGE END: Building work progressing on the new Cardiff City stadium, gonna miss the old one
HEMP COAT: had it 18 months now, bought it in Amsterdam, but it is so warm I have hardly worn it since… gonna wear it to Hay tonight
INTERVIEW: received notification this week that I have been short listed for a two day long interview in Brighton
JUICE IN MY HAND: Apple
KAVA KAVA: Downloaded Beats For Cheats EP this week
LONG WAY DOWN: Current book I am reading
MESS: The state on iguana HQ… it has GOT to be sorted!
NO IDEA why I am writing this
OPTIMISTIC: My mood… as it usually is
POLICE BASTARD: Back catalogue CD landed here recently, awesome
QUALITY TIME with Tara Iguana this weekend, gets better all the time
RESTARTS: Getting my head around reviewing latest CD
STRIKE: Awaiting result of strike ballot which closed yesterday
TOASTED BAGELS: What I had for breakfast.. Tara over ruled the crumpet idea
UNRELIABLE CAR KEY ZAPPER THING: doing my head in
VICIOUS POP: debut album by the Spectaculars landed this week.. needs a pronto review
WASTING TIME: Wring this list when I could be doing something on the main website… or tidying HQ even!
XENOPHOBIC… A one time friend that has been in touch today
Y-CANT Cardiff City keep a clean sheet?
ZION TRAIN REMIX; On the Kava Kava EP