Straight in at the deep end...

http://www.mobygratis.com/film-music.html

Sunday Nights

It's my first day at school tomorrow.

And so I put my head into my Transformers lunch box and cry.


PicLinks
http://nicolelavelle.tumblr.com/

Are you sitting comfortably?

The Pipe and Slippers

Stokes Croft

Venturing out into the great unknown - or rather, the a-bit-further-down-Gloucester-Road-great-unknown - my fellow explorers and I managed to stumble across Stokes Croft watering-hole, The Pipe and Slippers.  Not going to lie, both Cel and I have noticed it before - it's not the kind of name that you can easily forget. It was just, with the sprawling lady's legs on the sign, and the achingly cool student-types sucking on rollies outside, I was just worried that it might be another one of those mind-blowingly 'scene' gastro-pubs caught between a satellite town Wetherspoons and the canteen at Ikea. But WORRY NOT...

Dark wood furnishings, mis-matched armchairs,  pies pies pies, a gluttonous selection of spirits, patchy worn leather, Weihenstephan Hefeweissbier, Dog Dancer Scrumpy, candles, and Sunday roasts... what's not to like?

As well as acting as as an ever-comfortable extension of your front room in the daytime; each Friday, Saturday and Sunday night sees a dazzling selection of Bristolian DJ's guaranteed to keep the pipe smoking into the wee small hours. Perhaps the best bit was the baffling selection of currency (real or fake?) stuck to the back of the bar. At least if you ran out, you could try paying with the $1 bn note... 

Check out sister pubs The Windmill and The Lazy Dog. They damn sure got this one right, so I guess the others won't be far off...

See: http://www.barwarsltd.com/the-pipe-and-slippers/about/


PicLinks:
http://welovetypography.com/
http://www.etsy.com/?ref=so_home

I'm #1 so why try harder?

Less of a post, more of a get-your-ticket-now-I-don't-care-if-it-is-in-Swindon-that-is-close-enough-to-Bristol-and-this-man-is-an-absolute-genius.

Watch this:

Read this: 

Get your card and click on this:


http://fatboyslim.net/wordpress/5-night-stand-tickets/


DONE.


And you can't blame us for being so completely enamoured with every thing Norm is, says or does. Here's a sneaky what he gave us Bestivallians last Sunday...

"They know what is what but they don't know what is what. They just strut. 


What the..."


Best DJ in the world? For the moment, yes. 

Onwards and... downwards: Welcome to Bristol.

Have you ever sat down to a difficult piece of work? I mean really difficult. Like, the existential nature of thewhat?subconscious dialectical dichotomy of expressive subjectivity in theIdon’tgetthisatallandIdon’tknowhowtobeginbecau sethisisdefinitelytoocomplicated.

Or, have you ever tried to tidy a room so chaotic, so unmanageable, so disgusting that you can’t even start? Or attempted to navigate your way around an anally detailed reference book? Searching in vain for one idea, one concept that you know will pass you by. Or, how about trying to eat a burger too large for your mouth? Cutorsquish? Cutorsquish?

It’s all the same simple equation. You + something that attracts you, overwhelms you, confuses you. It seems too much for you to handle, but you WANT TO BE A PART OF IT.

To be perfectly frank, that is exactly the situation that I have found myself in. Granted, I am not sitting in front of a Double-Cheese-Flame-Grilled-Halloumi-Chilli-Quarter-Pounder-With-Bacon-And-Onions puzzling on how to eat it. In fact, having recently defected southwards once again, I am now floundering in the astonishingly vibrant, living, breathing city of Bristol.

Bristol Artists. Bristol Entrepreneurs. Secret Bristol. Fleece Bristol. Alfresco Disco. UrbanFusion Bristol. Crack Bristol. Bristol Birds. Bristol Blokes. Headfirst Bristol. Propaganda Bristol. Bristol In:Motion, Bristol Festival of Ideas, Pressure Bristol, Pick Bristol...

There is so much choice, it makes for one hell of a case of indigestion. Obviously, grumpy or not, all that is left to do is swallow my Gaviscon, adjust my goggles, and dive straight in.

Here's a first taste:

THIS is our local...

Image courtesy of John Swa - www.goldenlionbristol.co.uk

OK, maybe this is a little more representative...

With an open-mic each Monday, regular live musicians on Tuesdays, and a vast array of nights, artists and events nearly every other night of the week, this is certainly one hell of a local. Heading along last Tuesday, George and I were treated to the gentle Norah Jones-esque guitar songstress Nuala along with a couple of her hand-picked guests. DISCLAIMER: She's great, but her guests can occasionally be a little...beige. 


Anyway, let's just have a look at what's on this weekend, shall we?


Friday 16^th September

Dub from Atlantis

Beginning as a club night in the city, this motley cru have set up a record label, created some darn good reggae and dub nights in Bristol, and endeavoured to make sure that heavyweight dub is back on the map. Mixing live music with DJ sets, the Dub from Atlantis original dub is not unlike fellow dubbers Easy Star All Stars, Toots and the Maytals and the Trojan Sound System.

Entry £3

http://www.dubfromatlantis.com/

Saturday 17th September

Eastpole Orchestra

A far cry from the previous nights shenanigans, this five-piece Balkan-Bristol band are sure to get you moving. Reminiscent of Orkestra del Sol, Gypsy Hill Soundsystem and the Molotov Jukebox, this hyper-frenetic musical mix includes Middle Eastern and North African rhythms as well as Eastern European and Klezmer melodies. Guaranteed to make you get up and get sweaty, this heady cocktail of gypsy magic is certain to be one night you will not forget. 

Entry Free

http://www.myspace.com/eastpoleorchestra

There is a lot more to come. I have a feeling that my already substandard concentration span is about to take another battering. 

Hello, Bristol...

"Electro Swing?" "Well.. it's kind of more Swing than Electro. But still is Electro. You know?"

White Mink

Voodoo Rooms 
12 August
Midnight  - 3am

Electro Swing is exactly what it says on the tin. A literal blend of various elements of electronic music mixed with samples taken from the swing and jazz of the 1920s to 40s, it is hard not to stop your toes tapping and hips shaking when you hear it. No, honestly. It's like Astaire and Rogers, or vodka and lime, or marmite and cheese, this is mix that works. A sort of Creamfields meets The Great Gatsby. 


And although Edinburgh may not be renowned for its decadent demeanour or its banging swing scene, this year's Fringe Festival sees White Mink come to West Register Street's Voodoo Rooms each Thursday, Friday and Saturday night this month. Pioneered by DJ Chris Tofu, godfather of the movement, and founder of London's Electro Swing Club (of which there are now several throughout Europe), this is a blend of cabaret, swing, dance, magic, drum & bass, jazz, house and many more that is guaranteed to please even the most dubious of punters. 


As the fringe blurb proclaims, White Mink "blur[s] the line between fantasy and reality", and this couldn't be more right. White face paint, pearls, polka dots, cognac cocktails, crackly black and white cinema reels, cigarette holders and shiny shoes; from the moment you entered it felt as though the clocks had actually gone back, but raving was totally the thing to do. 


Featuring guests Le KKC Orchestra and The Twilight Players, interspersed with mixes from the DJ booth all night, the all-dancing crowd had plenty to get their teeth into. The French KKC Orchestra - fresh from Too-luuuse - were a sure-fire crowd pleaser; with their franglified rap, dextrous guitarist-cum-bassist, and Amelie Poulain-esque demoiselle on keys. Effortlessly charming the crowd, the band cranked out some vessel-bursting energetic swing mixes, and had just enough English for the somewhat well-oiled crowd to be able to bark out the choruses. Their finest moment was undoubtedly the break into drum and bass, which not only sent the dancers into raptures, but was evidently the kind of thing the KKC-ers lived for. Speaking to the band member after it became obvious that, as players on such a new platform, they essentially assess crowd reactions and adjust their set accordingly, something which worked to win the audience over in Glastonbury's Shangri La this year. Watch this space for more from this French trio...


Although this seemed like a seriously hard act to follow, dancing laddies The Twilight Players, didn't even break a sweat. Their understated entrance, air of self-consciousness, and preppy dress - each sporting wide-shouldered tweed jackets and matching brown and white loafers - didn't provoke much confidence. Yet they soon proved us wrong, and embarked on a remarkable display of energy, hilarity and (surprisingly) flexibility. Mission most certainly accomplished.

For both the acts, the DJ, the dancers, and even the unassuming punters of the bar next door, this was a night to be proud of. Electro Swing, fresh from it's somewhat hidden adolescence, shows that it is made of tough stuff, and there is no doubt that it is here to stay.

White Mink
The Voodoo Rooms

19a West Register Street

Edinburgh, EH2 2AA

Phone: 0131 556 7060

Email: info@thevoodoorooms.com

Website: www.thevoodoorooms.com

19 - 20 August, 25 - 27 August 2011

Schpank

Spank
16 - 23 August, Midnight - 3am
Underbelly, Cowgate

Spank is infamous. Three hours of comedians, music (of sorts), heckling and an obscene amount of alcohol in the dank depths of the Underbelly.

To be honest, you've got to be drunk.

Aside from that, there really isn't that much else to say.

Knob gags anyone?

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Get Your Dance On

In Edinburgh, you go to shows, right? And after the show, if it was good and if you're sufficiently lubricated, you have a dance. But how about if you want a show and a dance? Can this even work? Are the two synonymous?

Usually not. Yet, descending into the dark depths of the C Venues basement for Hartshorn and Hook’s stellar production of Blues Brothers Live, it’s impossible not to start shakin’ your tail feather as soon as the lights go down. Running at just 55 minutes, this is more of a party than a production and right from the second number the audience were in the aisles joining in with the singing, dancing, and unashamed rockin’ and rollin’.

The relentlessly enthusiastic cast, complete with a full jazz ensemble, blazed their way through well-known numbers such as Soul Man, Gimmie Some Lovin’ and Jailhouse Rock. Songsters Sam Parry and Josh Mumby made extremely plausible Belushi and Ackroyd lookalikes in the title roles, sporting suits and dark glasses even though it was most decidedly not sunny on this rainy Edinburgh night. Their dream team was joined on stage by the somewhat typecast but nonetheless extremely effective Ncuti Gatwa with his three-in-one Ray Charles, James Brown and the Rev. James Cleveland. The energy of the singers was matched only by the band, whose enthusiasm in both their playing and their cameo roles lit up the theatre. A special mention needs to go to trumpeter, ‘Mr Fabulous’, who most certainly lived up to his namesake with a glass-shattering array of top notes and a tone to die for. Another highlight were the sashaying, smiling backing singers, with sparkly sequin dresses and ahellalotta attitude. Giving stunning performances, amongst others, of the mildly disturbing Minnie the Moocher and Aretha Franklin’s feel-good girl-power-ballad Think; these lovely ladies effortlessly charmed the rather rowdy front row clientele.

Directors Louis Hartshorn and Brian Hook certainly seem to be seasoned veterans at putting what seems to be “the best party at the fringe” having now championed the show for three years running. Both producers and performers know exactly what the audience want, and were expert in coaxing even the most reluctant audience member into the all-singing all-dancing party. As the sweaty audience poured out into the driving rain, hats off to the cast, band and crew for what was yet another fantastically energetic show stopper.

Mission from God? Well, I don’t know about the big man, but everyone else certainly had a darned good ol’ time.  

Blues Brothers Live will be at C Venues at 23.00 from the 13 - 29 August. Tickets available from edfringe.com. The same cast and company are also staging The Rat Pack  at C ECA (Edinburgh College of Art)

Pleasance Press Launch

Saturday 6 August, 2011

Pleasance Grand

10.40am

It often pays to have friends in high places. Or rather with friends in high places, you don’t have to pay. Courtesy of Miss Sophie Tolley and her job at the Pleasance, we landed ourselves complementary tickets for the last of the venue press launches by Edinburgh’s ‘big four’: Assembly, Guilded Balloon, Underbelly and Pleasance. 

On entry, Aindrias de Staic’s slightly dubious folk violin was easily usurped by the first act; charming songstress, Camille O’Sullivan. Her sultry voice effortlessly mesmerized the audience with an unaccompanied rendition of Jacques Brel’s Amsterdam, followed by an equally enthralling and no less theatrical interpretation of The Ship Song by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

However, like a butterfly being followed by a warthog, Nick Helm’s somewhat abrasive entrance was a little bit of a shock to the system. Screaming, ‘Do you like jokes? DO YOU LIKE JOKES?’ repeatedly at a bleary-eyed 11am audience may have seemed like a sure-fire way to piss everyone off, but his expert timing and crude delivery quickly won over the now fully-awake spectators.

Unfortunately, this left a rather hard task for Henry Paker, whose genteel comedy seemed weak and slow in comparison. Yet kudos to him as he only started stand up in 2006, although perhaps he needs slightly more originality and slightly less Michael McIntyre-ness.

Comedy was followed by theatre, and Steven Berkoff (complete with dodge Scottish accent) introduced an excerpt from his adaptation, Oedipus. Firmly sitting in the physical theatre camp, the disturbing choreography and haunting subject matter indicate that this is one thing to catch on the Fringe this year.

Pleasance director Anthony Anderson then came on with a rather clumsy ‘thank you’ speech. Basing his address on various ‘c-words’ – cobbles, Candida, and Kermit (?) to name but a few – as we came to ‘c-word-number-fifteen’, you rather hoped he would shriek an obscenity and be done with it. However, he was joined by charming magician Pete Firman, who managed to wile the reluctant Anderson into a guillotine, along with a couple of unsuspecting carrots.

Sheeps was on next; a ‘sort of sketch group’ whose awkward self-conscious humour left many in the audience cold. However, the softly spoken drawl of New York comic Hannibal Buress smoothly won the audience over. Looking as though he was enjoying himself as much as the audience, this is certainly the hands down hot ticket at the Pleasance this year.

Bringing the event to a close, all male a capella group Out of the Blue shimmied their way through a Bon Jovi and Final Countdown medley before rounding off with the Kings of Leon’s Use Somebody. Hailing from Oxford University, it was more the ‘mathletes’ than The Monkees and although we may have been spoiled by the glitz and glam of Glee, to be frank it was difficult to get excited about these somewhat mediocre musical misfits.

For more details visit www.edfringe.com or http://www.pleasance.co.uk/edinburgh

Blank Page Blank Screen. The Grumpy Scot Part II

So my rural French idyll is over. And I am once more on home soil; ecstatically racing up to the dizzy heights of Arthur’s Seat and breathlessly gulping in the view of the Firth.

NB. [Old habits die hard. Or rather, they are exceptionally easy to fall back in to. Although I have now renounced my former Imogène-the-intriguing-and-mysterious-foreigner identity, this does not automatically mean that I will give up my penchant for hyperbole.]

But seriously, location has now changed to home sweet home: Edinburgh.

Am I happy to be back in the land of the mountain and the flood? Well yes. Although I am still firmly of the opinion that it should be renamed the land of the midge and the chip-bap. I can’t work out whether the spots covering my body are due to the nightly invasion of buzzing-biting little creatures or the fact that I have had six battered sausages in five days.

Yet there is no doubt that it is the best time to be in the capital. We are but a few days into the Edinburgh International Festival – tourists are thronging the Royal Mile in all weathers, drinking licences are lengthened until ridiculous o’clock, top hats and  are the fashion norm, and you can’t go anywhere without hearing some sort of a capella troupe. I myself am lucky enough to be working for the Edinburgh International Book Festival (check us out: www.edbookfest.co.uk) while Celyn is holding down (propping up?) the bar at the Bristo Square’s Udderbelly (Yes it is a huge upside down inflatable purple cow. No I don’t know whose idea it was, but if I met them I probably fall to my knees and call them Jesus).

Where does this leave the Grumpy Scot? With so much going on, it is less a case of finding things to write about, than a case of selecting the best reviews in order not to bore you into early mid-life crises. Already I have been lucky enough to sample some Comedy in the Dark (Guilded Balloon, Teviot: http://www.edfringe.com/whats-on/comedy/comedy-in-the-dark) as well as a fantastically diverse press preview at the Pleasance, including Camille O’Sullivan, Henry Packer, Aindrias de Staic, Steven Berkoff (OH EM GEE!), and dubiously named comedian Hannibal.

Becoming a little less personal and a little more like a very low budget and soon-to-be-on-its-way-out magazine for irritatingly eager writers, watch this space for news, reviews and general goings on in the next month. Obviously objectivity is out... ceebs. So for Part II of this extremely exciting saga (take what you will... I think it is riveting), welcome once again... to the Grumpy Scot. 

Sarlat Fin

“This time, you’ll cry when you leave France, not the other way round.”

Loath as I am to admit it, Celyn is actually right. Wiping rivulets of mascara from my cheeks, I reluctantly said goodbye to my ‘family’ and friends in Sarlat before unashamedly wallowing in a rather uncomfortable hole of self-pity as I made the journey northwards for the last time.

I cannot deny that leaving France has been a confusing emotional injection of ups and downs. Bittersweet on so many levels, it is an experience akin to taking medicine that burns your throat on the way down but in the end you know it will make you feel like a million bucks. True, I was desperate to see my family and friends, to be in contact without having to prearrange Skype times, to be able to converse and make jokes without having to worry about verb endings, to be in the same country as Celyn and to be able to share with him even the most mundane tasks. This was a sense of normality that I had been hankering after. Yet, flying in the face of all this, I cannot quite believe that I will be leaving my rural French idyll, that my fairytale lifestyle is now make-believe for real.

La Ferme de la Croix d'Allon... home for the past 6 months

My final week flew by in a chaotic montage of coffees, gifts, beers and goodbyes. Still well in possession of my reputation of the ‘yes-girl’ (well, if you don’t do, you don’t learn..!), I participated on a school trip to Domme with two of my classes; was given the choice of caving, archery, canoeing or rock-climbing on the CM2 Semaine Sportive; indulged in a badminton apéro (or five) both at someone’s house and in the sports hall itself; dined with colleagues in Sarlat to mark the beginning of the summer holidays; celebrated Nadine’s birthday (my mother #2) with a meal at a local restaurant and a very special surprise party ; and in all thoroughly managed to abuse my liver whilst bidding farewell to my new amis - an act that seemed fairly fitting for leaving the foie gras capital of the world.

Getting off the 'train' at Domme

"No honestly, we are listening!"

"Domme est une ville fortifiée, fondée en 1281..."

Greatest quiz team ever

Gourmet pack lunch for the profs...

Canoe races for sports week

The newbie at Ferdinand Buisson..!

"No. Honest. We DON'T want to canoe"

End of term dinner with F. Buis colleagues

Hard work on a Saturday afternoon

"Daniel, are you SURE you're not pregnant...?"

Eating ooot for Nadine's birthday

It's THE DANCE. It's proper hard you know..

Les filles at the fête in Tamnies

Love

Love love

Rapidly assembled table for Nadine's surprise party

Hats off to Lucie - grand master flash for organisation

Joyeux Anniversaire Nadine 

I know I will see them again, there is no doubt about that, but it is with a sinking feeling that I know a flying visit will never be the same as constructing your own life there. I have been informed by many that I am leaving at the ‘best’ time. True – the weather is magnificent, post-lunch siesta’s and afternoon swims are the norm, and restaurants, bars and cafés have popped up everywhere to accommodate the hordes of tourists who have descended on the region. Yet, although winter in Sarlat is really nothing to shout home about (as the past 9 months of grumpiness have demonstrated), it is the term-time memories that will never be forgotten. Rainy Tuesday evenings eating cabécou on pain grillé (yeh, that’s the French version of cheese on toast), squeezing four into the backseat before heading down to the Stade de Madrezes for the rugby, rushing back from school on sunny afternoons to grab a quick swim (and diving lesson – merci, Jason) before evening lessons, all crashing back at 4am for some red wine (or vinegar, if you are into that kind of thing) and a hilarious analysis of the night’s events, having a surrogate family who are there to help when you manage to screw-up, no matter how many times that may be.

Happy as I am to be home, Sarlat – tu vas me manquer...

They think it’s all over...

Well, it actually is. After an exhausting ten-month season, the rugby is finally finished. Despite the official rugby season being long over, the last two months have seen a series of Final Phase matches; a sudden death home-and-away competition which essentially gives the teams the opportunity to battle it out in order to be promoted to a higher pool for the following season. Although the CAS have had an almost unbeaten season, conceding just two matches, the ‘Phase Finale’ (or as I believed, ‘fazss-finall’) has been a lot more hard going. Losing nearly every away match, it was due to their strength at home that they managed to stay in the competition (points are done on aggregate for aller-retour matches). But after losing to Villefranche-de-Laurangais in a rather dubious 47-minute long second half (in which the opposition scored a try in the 46^th minute), they weren’t able to regain their ground in the return match and lost 15-6, knocking them out of the competition.

Nadine and the youngest CAS supporter, Marylou

Sarlat Vs Muret (Sarlat in red... away strip)

Forts and Becky who managed to catch a match whilst on holiday here

Stade de Madrazes

Sarlat vs Villefranche

It is a shame, but the season and the Phase Finale in particular have been unbelievably fun. The supporters – the most loyal, enthusiastic and hilarious bunch that I have ever seen – faithfully follow the team to every match, bringing horns, flags, crazy electric sound boxes attached to speakers, face paints, and more blue and black paraphernalia than I’ve ever seen... any more gusto and they’d be on the damn field itself. Massive congrats to the players – what a treat to support a team that actually wins (sorry Scotland, but it’s true). And how lucky am I to have had the chance to experience the atmosphere and madness of the stands, the away buses, and the habitual 3eme mi-temps. 

P.S

Article du journal Sud Ouest du lundi 6 juin 2011

Sarlat et Nontron ont craqué

Les deux clubs périgourdins ont échoué dans leur quête de montée en Fédérale 2. Le CAS concède même sa toute première défaite à domicile.

Tous les points marqués l'ont été par l'entremise des buteurs : Rousseau pour Sarlat à deux reprises, et Mercier pour Villefranche-de-Lauragais, cinq fois. Pour les essais, les spectateurs sont restés sur leur faim. À l'exception de deux occasions très franches dans le premier quart d'heure, Sarlat est tombé face à une équipe d'un niveau au-dessus.

Mais, passées les quinze premières minutes, les Sarladais sont retombés dans le travers qui les a poursuivis toute la saison, à savoir être capable d'enchaîner plusieurs temps de jeu, mais finir par perdre le ballon.

Hier, trop de touches ont été perdues et, avec elles, l'avantage de la possession. Trop de ballons ont été rendus au pied à l'adversaire, faute de trouver les touches. Les rares coups de pieds tactiques n'ont jamais mis en difficulté des Villefranchois toujours bien organisés dans l'occupation de l'espace. Ajoutons à cela des choix de jeu douteux, beaucoup trop de précipitation et de fautes de main.

Alors, cette première défaite à domicile de la saison ne doit pas faire oublier l'excellente prestation générale du groupe tout au long de l'année qui, en d'autres temps, aurait été synonyme de montée directe. Il y avait certes de la déception à la fin de la rencontre, mais tout le monde pense à cette saison qui a finalement tenu ses promesses : se qualifier et aller le plus loin possible.

Les Nontronnais, également,ne visaient que la qualification. Mais ils étaient, eux aussi, à 80 minutes de la Fédérale 2. Mais les Héraultais étaient invaincus à domicile depuis deux ans. Le challenge s'annonçait difficile… Lunel a sorti ses plus beaux atouts pour assurer la montée.

Les locaux ont fait une très bonne entame : Sirvent débloque le compteur dès la 5e minute. Après un quart d'heure, les Lunellois inscrivent leur premier essai. Taillan feinte une passe pour Akabi qui va aplatir entre les perches. Puis Grimal enchaîne pour Taillan et Bezert marque le deuxième essai. Nontron réduit l'écart avant la pause par Tallet qui, après une pénaltouche, aplatit en coin.

La transformation, difficile, ne passera pas. Les Lunellois reviennent en force des vestiaires en ajoutant deux essais. C'en est alors fini des espoirs nontronnais. Mais Deforge récupère la passe de Boisel pour l'essai, peu avant le coup de sifflet final. Pour l'honneur.

Bravo les gars pour cette belle saison...