How Far We've Come

When Kirbymoreside first passed her driving test, we went everywhere together. Pretty much every weekend, Kirsty and my good shelf would bundle into her car (Percy) and drive around. Usually to the beautiful countryside village of Ainsford, for a mess around by the stream and a small beverage in The Plough. (I like to live my life as if I'm in an episode of Last Of The Summer Wine).

Sometimes we'd head to the coast for days of nearly drowning and nearly getting kidnapped by coffee-carrying kiddie-fiddlers. "Would you like to come back to mine to dry off?" Erm… Probably not so much, thanks. I could have been the new Maddie.

Other times we'd just head to the Wilson residence and twat around in the local park. Or eat chips. Or both.

The soundtrack to that summer was Matchbox Twenty. I'd just seen them at a overly shit Bon Jovi concert, and they were without doubt the best part of that day. I was determined to inflict their songs on as many people as possible. Luckily Kirsty was a huge fan too. Everywhere we went, and Percy went, Matchbox Twenty went too. Happy times. Life was less confusing that summer. Nothing to worry about other than having fun. No jobs, no ties, no responsibilities. Before the days of relationships and heartbreak. A more innocent, hopeful (maybe naïve) time. Just me, Kirsty, Percy and Matchbox Twenty.

Fast-forward seven years, and times have changed. Massively. We both have fairly tough and demanding jobs. We both know what it's like to have loved and lost. Percy has been replaced by a new model called Orlando. Innocence, hopefulness gone… But probably still a bit naïve. And the thought of us spending just one weekend driving around together, let alone a whole summer's worth, is pretty much unthinkable, such are our lives now.

But one thing remains: Our love of Matchbox Twenty.

Last Thursday, we went to Wembley to see them. I met up at the O2 with Kirsty and Alex, a rather nice young gent from her watering hole (that's not code) who was coming with us. We went in search of cocktails, and stumbled upon Frankie & Benny's.

Several Strawberry/Champagne creations were downed, and I think the Passion Fruit may have put in an appearance at some point. Conversations ranged from work, to epilepsy, to Heath Ledger, to Jacuzzis, to Alex being a complete lightweight (Bed by 8pm?! What's wrong with you man?!) and obviously recalled some of the old favourites: Making someone cry in Year 10 English, the 'I'm Not Going Home Without My Shoes' incident… The usual stories!

(No mention of the time I was mugged. Kirsty must have been trying not to humiliate me too much in front of this person I'd only just met! Bless her…)

By the time we left, several hours later, I think we were all quite tipsy. We staggered towards the Jubilee Line, and the Rush Hour squeeze. We all got seats. And as an extra-special bonus, I got a seat AND a woman's anus in my face. Pleasant. God bless the Rush Hour!

After what seemed like an eternity staring at this woman's vast behind, we got off the train at Wembley and headed towards the Arena. Yay! Much excitement, and a little bit of pre-cum!

A few more drinks seemed to find their way into our hands as we watched the support act. Headway. They were REALLY good! It's not often I enjoy a support act. The only support act I've ever REALLY enjoyed were Matchbox Twenty themselves at THAT hideous gig in Milton Keynes with Bon Jovi. So yes… Headway. Buy their EP if you like Maroon 5 or The Calling. That's the plug over with. If they become huge, I can take a little portion of the credit. Maybe the royalties too, but I might have to discuss that with them. Headway. Yes. They're good.

We amused ourselves with a bit of lesbian-baiting, the gentle mocking of some foreigners, and a few more piss-weak beers. I went to the toilet forty-three and a half times. And then it was time for them to begin.

"Hello… Hello…"

They opened with one of my all-time favourites – How Far We've Come. It's a great, punch-the-air, life-affirming, pop-rock song, but it really does make me think sometimes. Makes me think just how far we HAVE come. Not sure if that's a good thing or not. I think too much.

Alex, Kirsty and my pretty self cheered and sang as if our sole mission was just to break our vocal chords. And I don't think we stopped for the whole night. Word for word shouted back at them with such passion; always moving and uplifting when you are in a room-full of people all doing the same, all feeling the same.

There were so many highlights. I have to mention Back 2 Good though. God, that song. That song.

"Everyone here is wondering what it's like to be with somebody else,

And everyone here's to blame,

Everyone here gets caught up in the pleasure and the pain."

The only thing stopping me blubbing like a baby was the thought of Kirsty sidelining the 'I'm Not Going Home Without My Shoes' story in favour of 'Remember The Time You Cried Your Eyes Out In Public Like A Fucking Nancy?'

Fantastically moving, as was my Matchbox Twenty Theme Song: Hand Me Down. A beautiful song from their third album that seemed to sum up an entire year of my life. Granted, as a theme song, it's not as wonderful at Tracey by The Cuff Links, but it means something to me and was great to hear it live.

Other major highlights were If You're Gone, Could I Be You, Long Day…

And Bright Lights. Like the Tom McRae song of the same name, a hopeful little ditty about escape and dreams. And love. And all the usual things I look for in a song. Fantastic.

As I say, the gig was just perfect, and it was nice to go somewhere other than the Turnpike with Kirsty. It was certainly in my Top Five Gigs Of All-Time… And probably one of the best nights I've ever had.

"While you were sleeping,

I was listening to the radio

And wondering what you're dreaming

When it came to mind that I didn't care…"

Doctor Who Watch #4

Episode Four/Five: The Sontaran Stratagem/The Poison Sky by Helen Raynor

Given that this script was penned by the same woman responsible for the most atrocious episodes since Love & Monsters, I didn’t have very high hopes.

Her offensive Dalek episodes from last year rank among the very few episodes of Doctor Who I can’t stand. They were abysmal, and even though a former gentleman caller of mine was in it (!) I still find myself unable to watch it again when ploughing through the Box Set. So imagine my surprise when I actually start enjoying this two-parter. More than enjoying it, LOVING it!

Okay, so Martha just seems a bit redundant now. Compared to Donna, she seems like such a waste of screen time. (Which is a shame, because I think Freema Whatshername is actually quite likeable). So then to have TWO Martha’s running around… Well, that was just a silly idea. Now two Donnas? THAT would have been worth seeing!

The opening five minutes were gripping; like a modern-day thriller. The Doctor giving a heartbreaking farewell speech to Donna, thinking it was the last time he’d see her, before she went and ruined it by saying she was merely popping home – GENIUS! The thought of Wilf dying at the end of Episode Four upset me greatly… So I was most pleased to see him survive. (Although the piss-easy way they got around it – smashing the car window with an axe – felt like a bit of a cop-out)

That irritating little gob-shite human kid assisting the Sontaran’s was rather well played, and I don't suppose I would have kicked him out of bed, either. (Him AND Ross... Mmmm...)

I particularly enjoyed his self-sacrifice at the end of the episode. Even though I saw it coming a mile off.

The Sontaran’s were nicely realised. Their war-mongering dialogue was amusing, and they made a much better ‘classic enemy’ that the Cybermen.

All in all, a really quite enjoyable two episodes.

Total Score: EIGHT out of TEN

Doctor Who Watch #3

Episode Three: Planet Of The Ood by Keith Temple

Without a shadow of a doubt, my favourite episode of the series so far. I love the Ood. I want to sit on their faces. All of them.

They are the best ‘new’ monsters since Doctor Who came back in 2005, and it was great to learn more about them. Tim McInenenenenenenrnnenenerny was brilliant as the Chief Baddie. Very three-dimensional, for a villain, showing a vulnerable side as well as a murderous, cold-hearted side. I was most pleased with myself when I guessed, within the first second of seeing him drink his hair tonic, that he would be turned into an Ood at some stage. Aren’t I clever?

Again, a thought-provoking episode that blows the likes of Partners In Crime out of the water. Commenting on the slave trade, the holocaust... Yet still being remarkably good fun. The Ood song moved me – and, it would seem, Donna – to tears. But the hints at what lies in store for the Doctor and Donna are really beginning to annoy me...“Your song must end”

No. Stop it. The Doctor and Donna should never be parted. They are the best double act ever! Best assistant, second-best Doctor... I love them. So it hurts knowing that something soon will tear them apart.

“There is something on your back”

Total Score: NINE out of TEN

Doctor Who Watch #2

Episode Two: The Fires Of Pompeii by James Moran (Or should that be James Moron. Oh, the wit!)

Yes, well... This one dragged a bit. The Sisterhood were dull and pointless, providing no real threat. I couldn’t stop picturing Phil Davies as Wilfred Brambell, which made his turn as Chief Baddie almost laughable. The Latin jokes went WAY over my head, as I don’t know any Latin. (Despite three Latin lessons at school with the lovely Miss Cornforth: “Get to the Naughty Table! Wayne, Kirsty... Stop bullying Craig”)

Donna convinced The Doctor to save Sid’s Dead Dad (the glorious Peter Capaldi) and the rest of his family. It was quite moving, and good to see her standing up to the Doctor. But if they should have died, and history was changed so they lived... Where were the Reapers? The whole point of Father’s Day (Series One) was that history had been changed by Rose saving her Dad from dying, and that was BAD. So why don’t the Reapers come to clean ‘The Wound In Time’ when the Doctor saves a whole family from the death that they were destined to have? Or am I misunderstanding the whole ‘Time-Space-Paradox-Bollox’ stuff?

Either way, I don’t get how the Doctor could have saved this family without consequence?

It was a moving episode though, and Catherine Tate was – again – fantastic as Donna. She made me shed a small tear. The last twenty minutes were gripping, thought-provoking and moving... But the slow start really stopped this from being as epic as it promised. A great episode, but not the classic it should have been.

Total Score: SEVEN out of TEN

Doctor Who Watch #1

Episode One: Partners In Crime by Russell T. Davies, who is a little bit gay.

I can’t recall looking forward to an episode quite as much as this one. After the rather awful Christmas special (Too many deaths, too little substance, too much Kylie and the spazziest baddie EVER!) I was looking forward to the start of the series proper. Especially after the seeing the trailer in the cinema, which made the excitement just too much to bear. In the event, I was a little disappointed.

It had been built it up so much, that I was expecting something amazing. As it was, all we got was another ‘First Episode’ – The one where everything has to be set up. The one where RTD makes us care about the new assistant. The one that establishes the dynamic between Doctor and assistant. A fun little episode that doesn’t even begin to compare to those that will no doubt follow.

(If you had the choice, would you rather watch Rose or The Empty Child…? That is clearly a rhetorical question. I don’t expect anyone to be sad enough to have even made it to this paragraph, let alone start answering the questions sprinkled within.)

Obviously, RTD can’t open a series – and lets not forget it IS a kids show – with a dark, sinister, frankly depressing episode like The Last Of The Time Lords. But a BIT of an edge wouldn’t have gone amiss.

The villains of the piece were so cute that it was hard to understand why the Doctor was trying to stop them. Ah, the Adipose. I want one. Someone buy me one. It can sit on my bed next to AlanYentob, looking all nice and cuddly.

Nice and cuddly… Not really want you want from a Doctor Who foe.

But there were still some things to enjoy. Lots, in fact. The first twenty minutes where the Doctor and Donna keep missing each other was a nice new take on the whole ‘Doctor meeting his assistant’ thing. And the silent conversation they have when they first clap eyes on each other did make me do an out-loud chuckle for a few seconds. Even if my lip-reading skills weren’t quite good enough to understand what the hell was going on.

Raquel from Coronation Street, doing her best impression of Jo Frost from Supernanny, was a really good baddie. Sinister and camp-as-arseholes… THAT is what you want from a Doctor Who foe! (Although if she’d searched high-and-low for somewhere that was as “Beautifully Fat” as the UK… Why the hell didn’t she try America?!)

Whoever thought to hire Bernard Cribbins to play Donna’s Granddad should be knighted for services to genius casting. If he’s not the new assistant for Series Five, I’m going to stop watching!

David Tennant did his usual bit. As good as always, but still not quite Christopher Eccleston. And as for Catherine Tate…The thing about hiring a woman like Catherine Tate is that she is not as conventionally attractive as Billie Piper or that other bint. Most TV Critics are sleazy, smug old men who judge a programme, not on its quality, but on how pretty the cast are. So suddenly the reviews for this series have been a lot less glowing… Slating the whole of Doctor Who, just because they don’t want to bash one out over Catherine Tate.

I think she’s fucking wonderful though. She’s toned down the ‘Shouty Old Harridan’ act since the last time we saw her in the 2006 Christmas Special (although I enjoyed THAT too!) and looks set to be my favourite assistant. She’s got a genuinely funny rapport with Mr Tennant, yet I’m quite sure she’s going to be a revelation when it comes to all the emotional stuff.

Her asking the Doctor “Don’t you want me?” was heartbreaking, and hopefully a small indication of what she is capable of. I can’t wait to see where these next twelve episodes take the character of Donna. Hopefully to some darker, more dramatic situations than those of Episode One. I’m looking forward to the ride…

Total Score: SEVEN out of TEN

Accelerate & Alcohol

Myself and Bex had booked into a cockroach-free hotel in Kensington (which, judging on past experiences, appears to be somewhat of a rarity) for a night of Alcohol and Accelerate.

Accelerate is REM’s new album. Alcohol is… well, you know what Alcohol is, surely?!

So, we popped to a nearby shop for supplies (Mmm… Scampi Nik-Naks! When did they make a comeback?!) and we managed to get into a small argument with Mrs Cunt Behind The Till. She tried to give us a fake ten pound note.

“It’s fine. Take it. It’s fine. You can use it in other shops. It’s fine. Get out. Get out of my shop. Don’t you dare question me. It’s fine. It’s a proper ten pound note. Get out. Get out. Thank you for calling!”

She also prices her Malibu ridiculously high. £18 for a small bottle?! In the words of Turkey Farmer Bernard Manning, it was a “fucking disgrace”. If I wasn’t so thirsty – a whole MONTH without a drop of alcohol passing my lips – there probably would have been another argument.

“It’s fine. Buy it. It’s fine. It costs that much in other shops. Honestly. Stop looking at the price tag and just pay me. Get out. Get out of my shop…”

She was a bit of a cunt.

We retired to our hotel room for a couple of drinks, a listen to some of the new songs on Accelerate and a rinse of our private parts.

We then grabbed a small – or, in my case, a HUGE – bite to eat at the local Wagamamamamama’s. I thought it was just a rumour, but asparagus really DOES make your piss – and sex piss – stink. Nasty business.

After squeezing my fat gut out of Wagamamamamamamamama’s, we headed towards the Uncle Albert Hall. As regular readers of my shit witterings will know, this is where I saw the Flaming Lips. I should have been watching Tooth & Claw – Episode Two, Series Two of Doctor Who – but instead, Foxy Bellend decided to drag us to the very highest seats and force us to watch a man in a ball singing songs that were sadly not Fight Test.

From that night on, I’ve always shuddered at the mere mention of the place. I always thought it to be a completely shite venue. And, I guess, if you’re high up with an awful view (as we were at the Flaming Lips), then it IS a pretty shite venue and you ARE going to have a crap time. But if you happen to be in a BOX…

:-p

Oh yes, a BOX. A velvety, private box, with coathangers, a table and enough room to swing a cat. If pets were allowed, obviously. We shared the box with just three other people – two old twats and a bloke who looked perfectly normal but, as he was on his own at a gig, was probably a bit of a suspect individual. It was GREAT! No having to get half the audience to stand up and move out your way every time you need to make piss. No chance of getting into a fight with someone by accidentally jumping on their toes… mentioning no names, Mr Bellend.

It was perfect!

I could have quite happily spent three hours marvelling at what a fantastic BOX it was. Which would have been a better way of spending my time than sitting through the tedious support acts:

FOALS – Ridiculous haircuts. The guitarist looked like he was having a seizure. Their songs were just noise. They weren’t particularly pretty. Made me long for the days of Idlewild and their threat of “We’re going to sing TEN songs for you now!”

DUKE SPIRIT or DUKE SPECIAL, I don’t know which – For a start, I can’t remember their name, so they can’t have been that good. And they weren’t. The banshee on lead vocals was doing her best to try and beat The Go! Team as Worst Support Act We’ve Ever Seen. She may have succeeded.

ROBYN HITCHCOCK – Pretty. A couple of nice acoustic numbers, but nothing amazing. Made for a nice toilet break, though.

And then, after stocking up on Vodka & Coke from the Delightful Foreign Gentleman at the bar, we took our seats once more for the main event… REM!

Living Well Is The Best Revenge and Man-Sized Wreath – two tracks from the new album – opened the show, with the latter being one of the highlights of the entire night. When the not-bad-for-his-age Michael Stipe warned the audience that the night was going to be “loud”, he wasn’t kidding. They did, in fact, rock!

The new tracks were good – some better than good, such as Supernatural Superserious – but obviously I was dying to hear the old favourites.

Losing My Religion, Imitation Of Life, The Great Beyond, Drive, Electrolite and the always-amazing finale of Man On The Moon made for an unforgettable evening. Could have done with less new stuff and more old songs, but it was still a fantastic night. In a fantastic venue, as it turned out. It was the BOX that did it!

Hearing them perform Leave would have made it even better, though! Eh, Bex?

Newspaper Story Of The Week

Front Page of the Daily Sport this Friday...

KILLED BY THE BOSS!

An Australian woman has admitted that she stabbed her husband following a row over a Bruce Springsteen CD.

Karen Lee Cooper pleaded guilty to manslaughter and will face eight years in prison for killing her partner of two years Kevin Watson at their home in Queensland in 2006.

Her charge was downgraded from murder after the court accepted she never intended to kill Watson. The court was told that Cooper, who had been drinking at their Cedar Grove home, attacked Watson with a kitchen knife after he told her to take a Springsteen album off the stereo.

In a recorded police interview, Cooper said: "I couldn't even play Bruce Springsteen on my stereo. Can you believe that? Can you believe that?"

"I mean, who doesn't like Bruce Springsteen? I'm 49 years old and I want to play my own music."


Well, exactly... Who doesn't like Bruce Springsteen? What a perfectly reasonable reason for killing your husband to death. Who doesn't like Bruce Springsteen? I'd have stabbed him, too. May he burn in hell...