Albums of the year

posting soon…..

Welcome Back, Malcolm Tucker

Oh, how you have been missed. The most brutal, brilliant, misanthropic character probably ever to grace our small screens, last night’s return of Armando Ianuuci’s “The Thick of It” to mainstream BBC, should have got more column inches than it did. But for those of us in the know, the return of Peter Capaldi in a role he will never better as the spin doctor from hell, Malcolm Tucker, was comedy brilliance and worth the licence fee alone.

Last night’s series opener focussed on Tucker’s attempts to control the media on cabinet reshuffle day, an opening five minute salvo that included the some of the best swearing I have ever heard on television. Yes, I know that swearing is not always big or clever but , believe me, last night it was big, clever and side-splittingly hilarious.

There are many things that are brilliant about The Thick of It: the writing is exemplary, the direction wonderful, the acting peerless. For me though, it is the dialogue that makes this show stand head and shoulders above others. If last nights episode was anything to go by, then Saturday night has just become “Malcolm” night.

What have the Europeans ever done for us?

It was with some interest that I read the BBC report that Wales is no longer one of Europe’s poorest regions and was at risk of losing its £1.3bn funding. This is hardly surprising given the expansionist nature of the EU over recent years- Romania and Bulgaria being obvious examples of ‘poorer’ nations- but the development is still a concern. Many Welsh communities have benefited from European money as roads and infrastructure have seen marked improvements. Im not arguing that Wales remains a “poor” nation- it is anything but although the job on transformation is still a work in progress. We all know the challenges facing a number of Welsh towns in terms of development and the road and rail links between North and South Wales have long since become a national joke.

As we watch the developments at a European level unfold, Im hoping that politicians of all colours start to address this issue. Long term projects and infrastructure programmes are not headline grabbing vote winners but they make a real difference to peoples lives.

Video killed the politics star?

Just seen the upload of Edwina Hart’s Labour leadership campaign video- I ‘hart’ Labour- (yes we saw what you did there Edwina) on the most excellent current affairs site Wales Home

You really need to view it to take in its breathtaking awfulness. A selection of AMs declare their support for Edwina and the reasons why she would make the best successor to Rhodri Morgan.

In an age of the blogosphere, social media, twitter and so on, is the sum total of the imagination a 42 second advert set to the most funereal guitar track you’ll hear this year? I love Edwina’s directness, candour and integrity- doubtless the intent here- but someone is advising her very badly if they think that a badly shot, badly lit badly edited youtube clip is the future of political campaigning. I know this is just the start but if this is the benchmark then Huw and Carwyn will scarcely have to break sweat to improve. Im hoping this race will be full of ideas, content and debate. So far, its proving far from it…..

Whats wrong with liking Heavy metal in your 30s?

Ok. Picture the scene. Its a well known retailer of newspapers and magazines and I am queuing with two purchases. Firstly, my daily newspaper- a well known broadsheet, famed for exposing MPs expense scandals. My second is a copy of Metal Hammer, perhaps the best known monthly heavy metal/rock/alt magazine in the UK. As it’s a weekday and I hold down a reasonable job I’m in a suit. I dutifully place both items on the counter for the sales assistant to deal with. Newspaper scanned as per normal and barely a scintilla of recognition from my server. And then they scan Metal Hammer. And the server looks at me and then looks at the cover of the magazine. and then looks at me with a growing realisation that, yes I am buying this magazine and yes I am in my 30s and yes I do probably have a mortgage/car/overdraft/all of the aforementioned. And I must be a freak.

It was if I had put a huge pile of hardcore pornography on the counter not a daft little music paper. But it got me thinking: just what is it about heavy metal that still, some forty years after its creation, do people find so fearful, so strange and so outre? And why is it that you are supposed to “grow out of it” when you get to a certain age?

I like metal because it is full of energy, creativity, dynamism and genuine eccentricity. Dont get me wrong- there are some bad metal bands, some inept metal bands and some so goddamnawfulpleasedontdarkenmydooragain metal bands. But that’s the same with ANY genre. I like metal because the fans are so damn nice. I would rather- as I did- spend a weekend at the Sonisphere festival in Knebworth surrounded by 50,000 metalheads where there was not one ounce of trouble that I witnessed, nor really a hint of it, than take my chances with the quasi football hooligans that ruined my experience at Oasis.

I do like the fact that there remains an element of slight menace about metal but, honestly, the collected hordes of satan are hardly taking over now are they? Anyway, I like it. There.Said it. Thanks for reading.

No time to be Les Miserables

Art and society are not easy bedfellows. The debate about how best we should fund the nation’s moral and artistic health is always a political hot potato. After the worst recession since the second world war, the public funding of arts has never been more under the scrutiny of those who know the cost of everything but the value of nothing.

Against this backdrop, the departure of Judith Isherwood from her role as CEO of the Wales Millennium Centre should be seen as a watershed moment for the arts in Wales. Not only are we losing an administrator of considerable prowess but the arts scene itself, despite its vibrancy, diversity and colour now has to re-invigorate and push forward when all around it will be urging caution and cutbacks.

Isherwood was the director of performing arts and acting chief executive of the Sydney Opera House when she was headhunted to run the 104m arts complex in Cardiff Bay. The centre opened in 2004 to much fanfare- and the de rigeur “do you know how much this is costing you?” news reports- with a gala performance featuring Welsh-born opera baritone Bryn Terfel.

Ms Isherwood’s arrival added to the sense of tumult, and her appointment quickly split the so-called “opinion formers”: was this a brilliant, visionary appointment of one of the world’s most able arts administrators or was this a collective failure of both the imagination (and the extensive recruitment processes) that meant that Wales was unable to find anyone of the right calibre to run the new Wales Millennium Centre?

It was not the happiest of arrivals in the capital: budget overruns, a pretty cynical media and a curious public is not the best start to one of the largest publicly funded art centres in Wales. Nowithstanding, the construction of the WMC did reflect a changing attitude towards the arts in Wales. The Opera House project had stumbled, stumbled some more and then ultimately failed and the maelstrom of debate that swirled around the revised mandate for the WMC was reflective of the passion and drive within the arts community. Amongst the inevitable chorus of naysayers, the words “white elephant” were regular additions to newspaper and magazine reports.

So, five years later, where are we? To this casual but interested observer, matters are in rude health. When she joined back in 2003- to oversee the last elements of construction and to prepare for the opening, I remember being struck by her analogy of the WMC with the Sydney Opera House- specifically the journey that it had gone through from the challenge of winning over a sceptical public to being, perhaps, the best loved arts auditorium on the planet (wonderful architecture also helps). I thought this was an overstatement but, at the very least, you couldn’t fault the ambition.

Today, a quick glance of its current roster of activities sees a good, healthy balance between obvious crowd pleasers such as Hairspray-the Musical and Les Miserables through the pop warblings of Paolo Nutini and Seasick Steve to the more challenging Mark Morris Dance Group. Likewise, the focus on education and participation seems to have struck a chord. Isherwood’s vision of the WMC becoming a centre of genuine artistic endeavour but never forgetting the fact that it always needed to put “bums on seats” and be commercially viable has meant that the arts scene in Wales now has a focal point of which it can be genuinely proud.

It is also a stage on which international artists can perform and provide a proper benchmark through which we can, meaningfully, judge the calibre of our own artists. The “armadillo” has, quite rightly, become an iconic part of the Cardiff skyline- the building’s guest appearances in Doctor Who and Torchwood adding to the public awareness both in the UK and more widely (the good Doctor being one of the BBC’s biggest exports).

There is now a fantastic opportunity to further enhance the reputation of the WMC. However, with such a legacy, there is also a considerable challenge ahead for Ms Isherwood’s successor. The sheer diversity and idiosyncrasies of the arts scene in Wales means that you will never please all of the people all of the time. But this is not the point. Art should be contentious, challenging, thought provoking and life enhancing.

Isherwood proved that you can marry art and commerce and not just take the easy road. In an age where the vogue for nostaligia appears undiminished- Dame Vera Lynn is No1 in the album charts, Beatlemania is back, the venerable AC/DC are the biggest live rock band on the planet- we need to be careful not to take the safe route but to take the right route. Isherwood’s successor needs to continue to run the WMC as if walking a tightrope: this means combining artistic merit, technical excellence and commercial endeavour- it’s a tricky, tall order and one that we wont get right all of the time but it is absolutely critical that we do.

As we wish Ms Isherwood good luck in her new role in Melbourne, we should not bask in any reflected glory or indeed take our foot of the proverbial gas; on the contrary, we should take the opportunity to look forward to a WMC that reflects the creativity, diversity and exuberance of a nation not just at ease with itself but one that has truly come of age.

Climate Camp- so what’s it for?

Unless you’re a professional contrarian, there aren’t many people who aren’t at the very least, somewhat interested in the ongoing debate around climate change, environmentalism and so on. Likewise, there aren’t many people who have not been at least indirectly impacted by the recent economic crisis- job losses, rising debts, home repossessions. Everyone has their own personal, often heartbreaking, story.

If you then take these two issues and throw in the low regard with which parliamentary politics are held currently, then surely you have the conditions for a groundswell of change.

So why does the Blackheath Common climate camp set up to supposedly address these issues and provide an alternative feel utterly irrelevant, indulgent and pointless? As noble and committed as these campaigners undoubtedly are they appear to have no clear agenda other than a terrifically over inflated sense of their own self importance and how they are fighting The Man, man. This is a terrific shame because some of their ideas do need wholesale adoption- greater regulation of financial markets, better job creation schemes, improved housing and community projects and greater democratic accountability. However, the fact that they are so utterly removed from those actually making decisions that impact on people’s lives the less impact they will ultimately have other than a cursory report on the news about how much litter they created during their stay in greenest South East London.

The homeless need housing, the unemployed need jobs- everyone is looking for hope and a sense of purpose and belief that tomorrow will be a better place. What we don’t need is a 1980′s throwback. There is a fight worth fighting but Im not sure that this exclusive, self regarding style of protest is going to make the kind of impact that these protesters hope.

Why lazy journalism is making fools of us all

Last week, a successful British company announced its half year results. They were very good, ensuring that its many thousands of employees would continue to be employed and the thousands of customers that rely on their services to run their own businesses could rest easy in the knowledge that these services would continue to run efficiently and effectively. During the worst recession since the 1930s, you would be forgiven for thinking that this was a silver lining in a dark cloud, wouldn’t you?

Sadly, if you had read a newspaper or watched a television news bulletin, you wouldn’t. Why not? Well, the company in question was Barclays Bank and, as you should have learned by now from reading the papers or watching TV, banks are EVIL and this was not a good news story at all. No: apparently, making a profit suddenly became another “scandal” about banker’s bonuses.

Was it really? Well, no, but that’s what the journalists decided the story was so that’s what we got. This is not about defending banks. The banking crisis, the greed of bankers and the current recession have been discussed at length. This is however, about lazy, agenda serving, press release journalism.

Despite the fact that we have 1000s of newspapers, rolling 24 hour news, the internet and millions of blogs, journalism is becoming so lazy, so cliched and so predictable that it runs a risk of becoming at best ignorable, at worst, irrelevant. The once fine vocation of The Fourth Estate is rapidly turning into PR. And bad PR at that.

What do I mean?

This summer you will hear, in nauseating detail, the daily sunbathing habits of a young British woman. This will be “Jordan taunts Peter” or “Jordan is at it again” Have you ever noticed that there is no actual evidence of said taunting? Or any clarity over what the offending “it” actually is?

Likewise, this month you will hear another “scandal” about how easy GCSEs have become. In virtually the same breath we will hear the “scandal” of how schools are failing our children because they haven’t got the requisite five GCSE passes? So how easy are these exams, then? Perhaps the truth is somewhat more banal- that some kids pass exams and some don’t. Isn’t that the purpose of exams? Sadly, that isn’t a “scandal” is it?

Journalists, often quite rightly, reflect the public concern that politics has been turned into the cult of personality. Its therefore galling they then give extensive coverage of whether Gordon Brown smiles at inappropriate moments or whether David Cameron buys his swimming trunks at Villebriquin. All political stories are, invariably, “scandals” or “-gates”, irrespective of whether there really is a scandal or not. I’m not saying that there haven’t been ANY scandals but if EVERYTHING is a scandal then we run a real risk that proper corruption, proper scandalous activity will be treated at a superficial, headline-only level. This is not good for democracy, for journalism or for our collective moral health. I mean, honestly, just how many “worst weeks since coming to power” can the Prime Minister actually have?

Moreover, have you noticed that Treasury stories are always, but always, written as if they were analogous to your own household budget even when they palpably aren’t? Since when did you do a little bit of quantative easing when you were last in Asda?; defence-spending stories are invariably “battlefields” where there are always “bloody battles in Whitehall”; health stories are always “scares” even if no one is actually frightened.

It doesn’t end there. Have you noticed that all human interest stories must be “journeys” or “odysseys”, irrespective of whether any journey, literal or metaphorical, actually took place? Or how all new films are ‘instant classics’ or “masterpieces” when they, really, are merely nothing more than decent or adequate. Hype and hyperbole have replaced insight and intelligence.Trivia has been accorded the same importance and same level of coverage as genuinely newsworthy, important stories- thereby inappropriately diminishing one and overcooking the other. This is knuckle-gnawingly awful.

This is neither informative, educative or reasoned. And it’s got to stop.

Mercifully, it isn’t all doom and gloom. There might just be some glimmers of hope out there. Earlier this year, The Daily Telegraph investigation into MPs expenses not only reported brilliantly, it provided insight, reflection, comment and acute observation. It set the agenda. And the result? The public cannot get enough: The Daily Telegraph sees the highest surge in its sales in years and is a shoe-in for Newspaper of the Year 2009.

News matters: journalism matters. It’s our daily discussion with each other: it aids democracy and debate; it can stimulate, infuriate and challenge. However, if we don’t demand more and fight back against this current soporific, everything-is-beige laziness from The Fourth Estate then a blanket of base, crass and patronising PR masquerading as journalism will become our norm. And we will all be the poorer for it. Start the fightback.

Sonisphere- very good start but could do better too

Just back from the latest addition to the ever burgeoning live music summer festival calendar; the oddly named Sonisphere festival held in the lovely grounds of Knebworth Park in Hertfordshire, England. Sonisphere is that strangest of beasts- a European touring festival, which had traversed much of Europe before alighting on Blighty’s shores.

It was never entirely clear as to what Sonisphere’s actual purpose was- a rival to Download, the now seemingly fixed heavy rock extravaganza at Donington? or something else entirely?. No matter: getting these things off the ground is never an easy undertaking so if you are going to and a vehicle in a traffic jam of rival festivals, you better ensure you have a juggernaut.

Getting Metallica, then, to headline was a stroke of genius- this is the metal band that your granny knows about- and in a good way too. Having Metallica on board meant that the festival was guaranteed a good day ticket take up- there were patently thousands upon thousands more on site on Sunday compared to Saturday (and I dont think this was just because of the better weather either) as well as pulling in the dedicated weekenders unsure as to where to spend their hard earned. If festivals are going to work, they either need a brand- like Glastonbury- or they need box office. Sonisphere is working hard on the former but it had the latter in spades.

The simple fact of the matter though is that there are too many festivals and not enough quality acts to go around, especially when some artists enter into exclusive deals, as clearly happened with Download and Sonisphere. Although they were hugely entertaining, Bjorn Again looked exactly what it was- a filler act who played because they were available and not, as some wag laughably tried to point out, that “Metallica are huge fans of this band”. Likewise the debacle over the Machine Head show/no show seemed to be greeted with a collective sigh of relief- and much to Mr Flynn and his cohorts credit they played a blisteringly good set. I am not going to comment on the risible decision to book Feeder.

The overall line up was patchy in terms of quality. Saturday looked a bit cobbled together; Sunday looked too busy if anything. The overall running order was very strange. Much as I love em, Lamb of God at 1.20pm on a Sunday afternoon is just wrong.

On the plus side, Metallica turned up and promptly showed everyone why they are still the metal band to beat but much much credit to the following: Mastodon, Anthrax, Machine Head, Limp Bizkit. Slightly less credit but still in glass raising mode: Alice in Chains, Thunder, the aforementioned Lamb of God. See me after class awards go to Linkin Park- efficient but cold and a disappointing and subdued Nine Inch Nails- not the send off that I was hoping for.

Other creditable mentions: security for not being complete thugs and morons- thanks chaps; the very sensible chap who booked the Monster energy disco that thinned out the end of day crowd effectively; the undercover Bohemia bar for shelter from the oh-so-predictable English summer rain and the lovely people over on the Hooked and Cooked Fish and Chip stall that restored my faith that not all festival food needs to be a botulism burger.

So, a few hitches but overall a bit of a triumph. I will be back.

Just how bad is the Mercury Prize?

Flamin Nora Batty. How bad was that?! Was it the clunking treacle like sponsorship from Barclaycard that did it? Or the impression that the shortlist was made up by the Geography teacher that no one cared for that did it?

This years Mercury Music Prize album shortlist is a dreadful, myopic, achingly pretentious list that little care for, few will remember but will, doubtless, have Jo Whiley talking in husky tones of “lost/forgotten/subtle (delete as needed) masterpieces”. Lets be honest- there is no record on that shortlist that is any more worthy than simply, decent.

What really annoys me though is not the myopia of its shortlist, its the arrogance and self regarding sense of what is “alternative”. There is no real extreme music here- either the prog metal of Mastodon (my personal choice) or the free flowing jazz of Japan’s Hiromi or any of the fey, folksy pop records that soundtracked the last few months on the uk airwaves.

Doubtless some supposedly clever journo will vent spleens over how the album doesn’t matter any more (and will use reference points like iTunes, Spotify etc to illustrate their lazy point). They will be wrong. On September 9, the remastered Beatles back catalogue will witness the biggest spike in CD purchasing in an age. Music fans are prepared to listen, do have patience and understand the narrative arc. Its such a shame that backslapping exercises like the Mercury do their level best to suck the musical marrow out of the music buyers bones.