My Own Trumpet

12/06/11
I am currently sitting on a leather armchair which I have occupied for the past few hours, as Olli Daffarn works hard at straightening out Mike Sykes' vocal take. This weekend, as well as playing host to an annual footballing event (which this year had a particularly unfortunate result), has seen the Red Dragon Diamond Club's first ever recording session take place. The band has camped out at HL Studios in Totton (just outside/inside of Southampton) since Saturday morning, recording what will be our first single and b-side release. All terribly exciting, especially with so many of the Club having never experienced recording before.

You can see highlights of day 1 by clicking here! Pictures so far from both days can be perused by clicking here!!!

As Olli bravely forges ahead with his mission, and Tim and Lib venture out to try and procure late night snacks and supplies, I am left to sit here in what I imagine is very similar to a nuclear/anti-zombie bunker and muse about musical matters, especially since I am too tired and hungover to do anything useful.

I have been involved with a modest number of musical projects over the years. Today is a day which teeters on the brink of the future, and so is an opportune moment to look back in retrospect at these projects. The hangover is always a vehicle for introspective backwards glances. Backwards I glance then, to the very first musical misadventure...

Frankie Solo
With a name pilfered from a pub sandwich board, this was the infamous vocal quartet that set the corridors of Ash Manor Secondary School ablaze, with a propensity to steal and manhandle other peoples' songs with a vicious abandon unheard of until the arrival of the X Factor. The original line-up; Frankie, Solo, DJ Franko and Duck Tiny, mainly performed a capella with a Rolf Harris vibe and released a single album, Streetwise, on cassette. The line-up was trimmed down with the disappearance of Duck Tiny but boosted by musical instrumentation in their live performances. The legacy of this quartet lives on in a series of videos on youtube taken from their career-defining performance at La Casa de Hawkins. I'd like to think that this group has lived on through each of my subsequent musical projects.

 Here is a video of one of our original songs, complete with dance routine. It is both informative and entertaining.

Philanthropy
This is where it started to get a bit more serious. 3/4 of the original Frankie Solo lineup joined with Graham Pether on bass to form a band. Early on Duck Tiny was replaced by Dan Hertogs on drums, and it was from this that I first got a taste of the murky world that is the gigging circuit. Starting off focusing on an alternative rock side fuelled by a love of the White Stripes, Ash and the Datsuns amongst others, we eventually moved towards a style that was more reminiscent of Radiohead and Portishead (at least I think we did), expedited by the addition of Olli Daffarn into the mix when I moved away to uni. He was originally there to cover for me when I was in Exeter, and to beef things out when I was back but he soon became a very important and integral member of the band; his technical skill and sonic gadgetry proving to be key in the band's progression. We recorded a couple of albums and played gigs at exciting venues such as the Kentish Town Forum and the Garage. You can listen to our albums here and watch a live video for the song Rapport here.

21/06/11
This post is taking quite a while to write up it would seem...I have since returned to Brighton. Both RDDC tracks have been successfully recorded. All that is required is mixing ahead of our eventual single release in September. Jollification.

2-Shay
2-Shay started when myself and former Frankie Solo colleague, Steve Kelly, began to write immature political raps during our free periods at college. These intellectual seeds flew in the air like those of the dandelion, until one Philanthropy practice saw the melding of said lyrics to a RATM aping guitar line. A full track was born and unleashed to great surprise at a Philanthropy gig a few months down the line. Fuck The 3World received its first airing an a legend was born. From time to time the ugly head of 2-Shay would rear itself; slipping into Philanthropy recordings and performances here, leaping about at parties there, but never was the 2-Shay project fully realised. Recordings of several tracks have been made, with some available to listen to here! One day, I am sure we will see the full potential of this political hip-hop monster unleashed and unmatched, but until then we will have content ourselves with shouting, "UHHHHHHHNNNHHNHN," really loudly.

SmoothGay
This is the real deal. Upon leaving for university I fell in with some real scoundrels. The best kind of scoundrels it turned out, and I was very fortunate to have encountered them. SmoothGay was the band I formed with my university pals, fuelled by the '8 cans of Castlemaine for £5' deal at the nearby 24/7 Esso garage. Our early output displays this influence quite explicitly, but it was only once I signed us up to perform at an Indie Society gig in 24 hours time, without much of a catalogue of music to draw from, that we really took off. After writing a set within the time limit, we performed with critical acclaim to a receptive crowd. It really looked as though things were going to take off, but at our second gig we fell flat. Perhaps it was the formal surroundings (an Indie Society formal event...), perhaps it was our overexuberant imbibing pre-gig, whatever the case, the magic had gone and that was that. Despite the death of our commercial career we struggled on gamely, eventually recording the genre-defining album Do You Remember SmoothGay? over the course of a day (naturally) and holding a launch party the same evening. The album has gone down in history, and can be heard in all its lo-fi glory here! This summer, me and Mike will hopefully be reconvening to record the follow-up sophomore release. Keep your ears peeled...

The Sneaky Frog and the Scoundrel
Named after a piece of music from the FFIX soundtrack by Nobuo Uematsu, this was the band myself and Tim of Philanthropy formed once ensconced within the surrounds of Brighton. The band consisted of the two of us, teamed up with two fellows Tim had come to know through his humanities degree, our overall friendship cemented through our 5-a-side football team. Understandably, the songs were usually to do with humanities or football, or indeed at times a wonderful mix of the two. The music this time was of a more poppy, indie stylised nature, perhaps reminiscent of Belle and Sebastian or the Arcade Fire or Talking Heads? Possibly not. Anyhow, it was nice and accessible. We performed a couple of gigs and recorded a 5 track EP, Me Too, I'm A Painter! with Olli Daffarn. This release is easily the most profitable record I've ever contributed towards, as somehow we managed to sell one at a gig for £40. Sensational. You can make your judgement on whether or not it was worth the cost by listening here! Sadly, as Tom and Ed both opted to leave Brighton following the end of their MAs, we were left without a band once more, and a wonderful song about Dick Van Dyke unplayed. Perhaps...one day...

The Red Diamond Dragon Club
And so we come to the present... Kanye would be proud. Taking on electro and folk and injecting something of a party vibe, we have ourselves the RDDClub. Two gigs down, a third coming on Saturday. It is, quite literally, all go. I think that so far we have managed to work the 9-piece thing without sounding too much like an Arcade Fire rip off, or a Polyphonic Spree rip off, or a Slipknot rip off for that matter. I think we need to explore the nu-metal territory at some point though, sooner rather than later.

The Neil Warnock Trophy

I have been mulling over various different topics for posting recently; an article on wrestling following the death of the Macho Man Randy Savage, a top 5 fictional drunks, a top 5 musicals, profiles of various music projects, a treatise on the art of boules...all of these worthy topics, but I have thus far struggled to find a sweet little moment in which to compose both myself and them.

Instead, my hand has been drawn for me. This Saturday, the 11th of June, shall see once again the forces of good and evil descend on that most provincial of English cities, the fair Exeter of Devon. It is, of course, the annual rematch between two of the most mismatched rivals in sporting history, between the ridiculously named and ridiculously attired Team Laser Explosion Mob and the far more brave and handsome Brotherhood of Justice.

The rivalry has been alive and well since 2006, its seed germinating when team captains Oliver Tiberius Ezekiel Jarman and, yours truly, James Douglas Iago Chrysanthemum McIntosh, extended their acquaintance within the confines of heated Past and Present seminars. Those were heated times, leading to heated confrontations on and off the field.

They have had a fierce history; In 2007 we played for the Richmond Road Invitational Cup. In 2008 TLEM fought back from 0-4 down to claim the Steve Sidwell Memorial Trophy. In 2009 the BoJ managed to sneak the Bruce Grobbelar Trophy (I think) through a bit of the old "next goal wins it" magic. 2010 saw the unofficial stag do victory head to TLEM. As you can see, the results have tended to swing towards Ollie's team more often than not.

What the Brotherhood of Justice lack in the results department, they usually make up for in the popular support market. This is a team that represents not only the people, but both the land of the people and the animals of the people as well. They can usually count on lots of lovely and attractive people turning out to support them. These people are often their seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth men, giving a strong numerical advantage to them in their quest for that elusive minx, Glory. It just goes to show that quality is probably more important than quantity.

This time though, in these difficult, difficult times, with the economy receding further than Wayne Rooney's hairline and a society receiving more ill-advised cuts than a punter in a drunken barbershop, few are able to make the long pilgrimage this year. We will be down to a solid six, an electric six, perhaps with a magnificent seventh, who can say? This will be the first time a mighty team of WAGs and BABs won't be present to cheer on our green-clad heroes. Will this lead to an upturn in fortunes? Will this eradicate those distractions that have been the perennial stumbling blocks thus far (apart from that one time)?

Let us hope so. The Team Laser Explosion Mob are not a nutritious bunch. Whenever we invited them to parties back at uni they wouldn't come. Ollie came once or twice, granted, but then secretly he wishes he was part of the Brotherhood of Justice. They never went to the Cavern. They probably chose fish and chips over veggie kebabs at the Raj. They probably don't know where the Exeter Picturehouse is. For shame. These guys deserve to be put in their place. Perhaps this could be the year it happens.

above - the banner of the Brotherhood of Justice

Whatever happens this weekend, we can rest assured that Voss, Earwaker, McIntosh, Parker, Dawes, Cowley and perhaps even Dunkley will give their all, eat lots of food, drink lots of alcohol and wake up with very sore heads on Sunday morning. Exeter is a lovely city with lots of great places to visit; if I'm able to fit in the Top 5 (Boston Tea Party, the Cavern, the Raj, Real McCoys and Beerbox) then I will be overjoyed. However, even if we end up going to Arena or worse, I can rest safe in the knowledge that I will get a chance at some point to take Oliver Jarman's legs out. Oh yes.

Toothsome (song 1st draft)

I'm in love with your smile, it means your happiness is doubly worthwhile
And I don't mean to be judgemental, I just think it's preferential that you show me some more dental, it's essential
Because I've been staying up all night, thinking about your perfect pearly white so forget about the whites of your eyes
And your gentle lips, the shaking of your hips or the lines of your thighs

Just tell me all about every tooth in your mouth
Tell me all about every tooth in your mouth
Tell me all about every tooth in your mouth (x2)

It was your molars that bowled me over, your incisors excite me I want to get inside
The cavern of your mouth, touch your tender gum tentatively with the tip of my tongue
You have thirty-two teeth, each one beyond belief, just as sweet as the last, make your beauty complete
So, if your inclined, place your lips on mine, our canines can dance in time


Just tell me all about every tooth in your mouth
Tell me all about every tooth in your mouth
Tell me all about every tooth in your mouth (x2)

Your enamel...I'm enamoured
And your armour...is Arm and Hammer
Don't turn your back...don't turn your back on me
And don't turn your back...don't turn your back on plaque

Just tell me all about every tooth in your mouth
Tell me all about every tooth in your mouth
Tell me all about every tooth in your mouth (x2)

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Capo 4th fret, yo, capo 4th fret.
Verse - C, E, Am, F
Chorus - C, E, F, G > C > G
Mid 8 - Am, C, F, C > chord that I don't know the name of

I think I need to tweak that plaque line. Also not sure if this is better suited to SmoothGay or The Red Diamond Dragon Club. Or whether that really matters too much.

Pop Song Guitar Tab - draft 1

Pop Song

This is quite an easy song to play along to. If you listen to it whilst playing you should be able to pick up the strumming pattern. Enjoy!

Tuning: E A D G B E

Oh baby when I see you, you take me higher!

C            Am                 Em                 G

Every look I take sets my heart on fire!

C            Am                 Em                 G

You are the only one that I desire!

C            Am                 Em                 G

Tonight we dance, tonight we love, tonight!

C            Am                 Em                 G

But yet, I can’t help worrying that this is Dionysus talking

D7sus4   Bbaug            F                    Aaug

and sweeping me up with rutting stags and clucking hens,

Cm      Bdm7                  G#7sus4 G#maj7                 B6

This whole place stinks, usually the beer and sweat smell

D7sus4   Bbaug            F                    Aaug

remind of good times, not the Roman Empire throwing up,

Cm      Bdm7                  G#7sus4 G#maj7                 B6

andshouldIaskforthenameagainnoshutupkeepeyesonfacenotbreasts

D7sus4

This. Is. Me. Trying. To. Act. Normal.

C     A     B     B     A     G     E

Successful compliment. Sincere invitation. Best intentions. Meaningful interactions.

B#                Fbmin                B#                Fbmin

You and me, baby, tonight!

D                  G                        D

NB - I wrote this originally to present at a seminar as part of my Marxism and Creative Writing module. Unfortunately I was ill that day so I didn't get to get any feedback on it. One of the people in the group made a recording of their interpretation of it, then emailed it to a guy called Ben instead of me. I am intrigued as to how he played B# and Fbmin.
I also wrote it whilst I was on a train, so couldn't really check to see if the chords sounded any good together. The first chord sequence is pretty generic but after that I imagine it gets messy.

Saved By A "War"

"Only a crisis - actual or perceived - produces real change."
                                                                   - Milton Friedman

"The kind of crisis Friedman had in mind was not military but economic. What he understood was that in normal circumstances, economic decision are made based on the push and pull of competing interests - workers want jobs and raises, owners want low taxes and relaxed regulation, and politicians have to strike a balance between these competing forces. However, if an economic crisis hits and is severe enough - a currency meltdown, a market crash, a major recession - it blows everything else out of the water, and leaders are liberated to do whatever is necessary (or said to be necessary) in the name of responding to a national emergency. Crises are, in a way, democracy-free zones - gaps in politics as usual when the need for consent and consensus do not seem to apply."
                                                                   - Naomi Klein, The Shock Doctrine.



I've finally gotten round to reading The Shock Doctrine. It is an intensely frightening book, but also an intensely illuminating one. Reading it is akin to looking under your bed and discovering a nest of spiders, and as soon as you notice your first spider you quickly spot another one. Then another one. Then another one. It has been well-documented how comprehensively the political processes that Klein describes are at work in our society today, and I would urge anyone who hasn't had a look at it to give it a go.

An open letter/cry for help to Brighton

Dear all,

This weekend sees the return of the one event that makes me wish I had a television. True, it would be handy for some sporting events (I'm looking at you, World Cup), but these generally work pretty well down at a pub. Now, I have watched Eurovision in a pub once before, but it's always felt like something that deserves a more homely, intimate and comfortable setting. Plus it's cheaper, you can hear the snide remarks and slightly xenophobic comments made by whoever is being paid by the BBC to get drunk and keep the viewers updated, as well as usually having much more pleasant toilets on hand if you stay in.

The benchmark of Eurovision parties I've been lucky enough to be involved with has to have been the one held at 46 Priory Road, Exeter, during my last year of university there. It was a beautiful occasion. We had gotten ourselves familiar with that year's selection of songs. We had dressed ourselves in suits. We had printed out pictures of various European flags and stuck them up about the living room. We had brought downstairs two of the mattresses from our beds so that everyone could sit/slouch in comfort. We bought a lot of pizzas and beer. We persuaded some Americans to come over who had no idea what they were getting themselves in for. We had one particularly enthusiastic chap who brought along his very own full sized Polish flag. Thankfully Poland did not win. Unfortunately Latvia did not win. An honourable mention went to Spain, especially their idiosyncratic dancers. It was glorious. What a night. I will put pictures onto the internet at some point.

And so here we are, three years on from that wonderful night. Here we are in Brighton. It is here that, once again, I am met with that most atrocious problem; not having a TV but having something very important that I need to watch.

I can't quite understand why the television owners I know that live in Brighton haven't been shouting from the rooftops and rallying the troops for that wonderful night where the whole of the continent and a nice proportion of Eurasia are united in battling each other across the field of music. Perhaps people have been shouting from the rooftops, and only doing it whilst I'm at work. Perhaps I've been getting drunk in my leisure time a little bit too much, and that inexcusable displays of loutish behaviour have put people off inviting me to any such gatherings. Hopefully this is not the case. I watched the semi-final yesterday on my housemate's laptop and it's just not the same.

Someone needs to step up to the plate here. Step up to the plate and have a swing at glory. Someone needs to take that chance, to reach out and grab at it. That person could be the one who gets to say, "hey, remember that gathering I held when that Belgian a capella jazz-pop group won Eurovision?" Imagine being able to say that. Much better than saying, "hey, remember that Sufjan Stevens gig we went to?" I don't have anything against Sufjan, but he's just not Witloof Bay is he?

So, those who own the means of production in this matter, open up your arms and share this joy with those who have not. Do the right thing. Host a Eurovision party. Even if I'm not invited. I will find a way and a venue to watch it eventually. I can. I will. I know I can untie these hands.

PS. I love Belarus.

Film Night

A group of friends decide to have a quiet night in on a Friday for once. They've all spent most of their money this month and so staying in to watch a DVD seems like the most practical and enjoyable way to spend evening whilst they wait for pay day on Tuesday. Whilst they all enjoy going out carousing, talking about girls/boys, eating pizza however, they find it quite difficult to decide upon which DVD to watch.

4 of them would quite like to watch the version of Hard Candy. Two of them have seen it before and love it. The other two have yet to see it but quite like the idea of paedophile entrapment, as the film has been described to them. They're fairly easy going when it comes to films though, these two, and would probably watch anything.

2 of the party would quite like to watch The Shawshank Redemption. One has seen Hard Candy before and hated it. The other has not seen either of these two films, but really doesn't like the sound of paedophile entrapment.

1 of the party is a bit avant-garde and would like to watch Un Chien Andalou. They're just a bit avant-garde and really like the idea of avant-garde eyeball slicing. Failing that though, they'd be quite up for The Shawshank Redemption on account of it being the highest rated film on imdb.com.

1 of the party would like to watch The Wrestler due to its critical acclaim. They really like critically acclaimed films, so they wouldn't mind The Shawshank Redemption either.

1 of the party would really love to watch The Great Escape. Epic tales of defeating incarceration are really their bag. Shawshank would go down pretty well.

They group of friends decided to cast their votes. As you can see, Hard Candy was the winning film, amassing 4 votes. This meant that there were 5 fairly disappointed people who had no interest in watching this film, who would all have been up for The Shawshank Redemption, plus another 2 who would have been happy with it.

If only they had decided on a different way of choosing a film to watch. Then they wouldn't have been exposed to Hard Candy on what would have otherwise been a lovely, quiet night in.