blog! a rhythm?

I was reading the newspapers that built up over the weekend and I stumbled across a feature on Gerry Anderson. Not to be confused with the talented tv producer and writer, Gerry Anderson, the one I'm talking about is the not quite as talented bloke who always turns up on BBC Northern Ireland or BBC Radio 4. He's apparently courting controversy these days by claiming that Gary Glitter is a decent old skin.

The picture of Gerry served to remind me of a time about 15 years ago when the trad/folk band I was in entered the Opportunity Knocks talent contest held in Ballyshannon. I considered us a supergroup of sorts. We had a singer who went on to voice the character of Shadow in Bear in the Big Blue House. We had an accordion player from Cavan who was the only person I ever heard make that particular instrument sound good (Welcome to Hell! Here's your accordion!). We had a wonderful guitarist from Rossnowlagh and another talented bloke from Clondalkin and then there was yours truly on percussion. If my memory serves me correctly we won and collected a grand in prize money. Our win came courtesy of three independent judges: the aforementioned Gerry Anderson, the then Late Late Show in-house pianist Frank McNamara and someone else I can't remember. Needless to say we went on the batter with all the judges and other contestants afterwards and ended up in a boozer called Eoin Roe O'Neills I believe. The gargle flowed all night (probably at our expense) and Frank kept banging out tunes on the piano until the small hours of the morning. As the sun started to rise I realised that we had to get to Sligo to make a train back to Dublin. I distinctly remember the scornful look on my mates's mother as she collected us to bring us to the airport. Three drunk smelly blokes sitting in a car at about 7.30 in the morning pretending to be sober. I had some kind of lucid moment around Ben Bulben as that's the only part of the journey I remember. I think I kept calling it Ben's Bulb. That kind of stuff counts as funny when you've been drinking all night. What wasn't funny was the trip home on the train when we were collectively blanked by a clearly hungover Frank McNamara. That's stars for you. They're your best buddy one night and then your yesterdays news.

What the fuck all of that has to do with the rest of this post is beyond me. I'm banging on about that kind of nonsense when ther's things happening on the music and blogging scene all around me. In Dublin news a couple of new places have opened in the city. The first is actually new. It's some boozer called Le Cirk on Dame Street and it has some notions about being a jazz lounge. It appeared from behind hoardings some weeks ago and is trying to find its feet. I sent my wife and her mates to it the other night but they were having none of it and left after one drink. Maybe jazz isn't their thing. Apparently the music bookings are being taken care of by ex-Jazz FM boss, Ollie Dowling. The former pirate radio mogul will hope that this return to jazz promotion is more successful than his efforts with the Bleu Note on Capel St. The other new, but actually not new, venue is The Twisted Pepper on Middle Abbey Street. This was previously Traffic and for some reason I managed to never go there when it open. As such I've no idea if Twisted Pepper is any different. The Wobble Crew were promoting a night downstairs and it featured my old junglist muckers Don Rosco and Naphta. I only hung around for a while to check out Don Rosco and T-Woc weave some dubstep madness and missed Naphta as a result. The lure of my slippers and a hot cup of Ovaltine was too much for me. I legged it.

The DEAF weekender draws ever closer and I'll remind you again that the only place to be this Thursday evening is in The Sugar Club for the Sweettalk with Steinski, Maser and Alan Gilsenan. I'll be there. Carrying a copy of the FT under my left oxter and with a pink carnation in the lapel of my sports jacket. Another event worth checking is the White Noise gig being promoted by Mici Durnin and his cohort Darren of Maximum Joy promotions. I only met Mici at the tail-end of the summer. We had some oldschool football kickabouts with a motley crew of participants from the likes of The Jimmy Cake, Dave from Road Records and Claude from PIAS distribution. It harked back to those football games on the local green that would go on until it got pitch black. If someone had arrived with an empty glass milk-bottle full of water it would have completed the picture. Anyhow White Noise play The Sugar Club at 8pm on the 26th October. A DJ Set from Broadcast will follow.

I have it on good account that Twenty Majors forum is the place to be this weather. I went over just after it opened and it asked me to register. I hate to admit it but I'm a lazy auld shite when it comes to registering on websites, so I didn't. In any event, I have it on good account that it's working out nicely.

I'd read about the Casino in Marino way back in school. It featured in our art history studies back in secondary school. Yesterday we went en famille over Donnycarney way and visited the Casino. You can imagine my disappointment when I found there was no blackjack table there. Instead you're treated to an architectural wonder of symmetry, creativity and trickery. It's the bleeding business. We went on the tour with a German mother and daughter and some bloke who looked like he'd been forced there by his mother. We all had to put on slippers before they allowed us walk on the nice parquet floors. Freaky buzz but a top buzz.

Finally, it pains me to say it but the fabulous Blogariddims series has come to an end. Fifty blogariddims later, Droid, Slug and the rest of the weareie cru have called a halt to proceedings. These guys have achieved huge admiration for crafting podcasts for general consumption to anyone with an interweb connection. I for one believe they have covered themselves in glory. Well done chaps. You can check out the hugely convoluted but higly entertaining series of posts by all 10 contributors to the final blogariddims over on weare.ie. And here is the very first post by Droid

revisionism rocks

I heard a joke recently.

Q. Why are pirates called pirates?

A. Because they just aaargh!

Last night The Mullet and myself hooked up with an old mate from our pirate radio days. Aidan Kelly lowered the Jolly Roger a few years back, he picked up his Kodak Brownie and he is now carving a bit of a niche for himself in Dublin’s design world as both a photographer and with his input to Candy Collective. This is in addition to his other creative pursuits which are too numerous to list. Last nights Sweet Talk session was introduced by Aidan and in keeping with the Seachtain na Gaeilge theme at this time of the year, all of the guest speakers were from the auld sod. The audience was populated by many folk from across the wide spectrum of Dublin’s creative set. It was like an NCAD reunion or at least it was like how I imagine an NCAD reunion would be. Given the bohemian nature of proceedings there were also a few blokes there who looked like they’d come to audition for a job as drummer with The Klaxons.

Aidan kicked off proceedings with an introduction that was not dissimilar to the part of mass that usually took place after communion. For any Irish Catholics reading this they’ll know what I’m talking about. It’s been a while since I was there but it reminded me of that bit in mass when the church collection took place and the priest took the opportunity to read out notices about the annual pilgrimage to Lourdes or any upcoming Novenas. Unlike mass, Sweet Talk had beer on sale and a smoking area just outside the back door. Once the obligatory thank you’s and introductions were proffered by Aidan it was straight down to the business of design.

First up was illustrator, printer and administrator of the Monster Truck Gallery, Colm Mac Athlaoich. One interesting piece of trivia that came to light about Colm was that he was an aspiring classical trumpeter when he was younger. As someone who played the flugelhorn as a young fella I can appreciate why Colm may have wanted to become a classical musician. Thankfully the music world’s loss was the design world’s gain. In my case, I’ve heard that the music world is still lamenting the loss of my precocious talent. You can never have enough flugelhorn players. Colm presented many of his quite brilliant illustrations and some of his print stuff and a common theme for the evening was quickly established. It appears that the now defunct Mongrel magazine first published Colm’s work.

Similarly, the next speaker, stylist Aisling Farinella did plenty of work for Mongrel magazine. If I’m not mistaken she also mentioned that they were first to publish her work. Aisling then went on to present several samples of her styling from her trips to London and New York fashion weeks as well as plenty of stuff that was done locally around Dublin. All in all she was quite an affable young lady with a keen eye. However I’m still not sure exactly what a stylist does. Whenever I hear the word stylist I just think of that Graham Cruz bloke and it makes me shudder. Aisling mentioned that she had worked with a bloke I went to college with many years ago, Peter Evers. I bumped into Peter at a wedding about a year ago and he very kindly took a portrait of my assembled family and e-mailed it to me a few weeks later. It's the only photo of my folks and brothers and sisters together as adults. Nice one Peter. Coincidentally the couple that got married that day just had a baby girl the other day. It's a small world, but I wouldn't like to have to paint it all.

The third speaker, photographer Matthew Thompson, also showcased some work that had appeared in various publications and once again Mongrel came in for special mention. Amongst the material on show was a selection of photos of Dublin’s homeless community. I missed an awful lot of this speaker because I was talking shite with two of the Mullets acquaintances, filmmaker Lorcan Fox and his Dom Joly lookalike partner in crime from the now defunct Ringsend hip-hop outfit Satyrix.

In light of what I heard last night it appears that I might need to apply some revisionist principles in relation to my publicly quoted views on Mongrel magazine. I stand by the fact that I oftentimes found it disjointed and not funny but I must now reassess it in light of the influence it had on many creative types working in Dublin. I never really questioned how the illustrations or photo shoots got into the magazine or even who was behind them all. All three speakers mentioned above appear to hold the magazine and its editorial team in high regard as it provided them with an outlet for their endeavours. In many cases the initial opportunity then turned into a stepping-stone for bigger and better things. Eoin Butler, Ireland’s ex-premier social diarist was on hand to mop up the plaudits from his position at the back of the room. Fair fucks to Mongrel for stoking the creative fires of Aisling, Colm and Matthew.

The last speaker of the evening was Daragh O’Connell from Brown Bag Films. The Mullet insisted that I mention that he went to primary school with the other half of Brown Bag, the affable Cathal Gaffney. Cathal wasn’t there last night but Daragh was on hand to provide the audience with a whirlwind history lesson on Brown Bag Films, from their early stop-motion creation of Peig right up to their current work with HIT Productions (the guys who make Bob the Builder). In between we were treated to several short films, a few of their recent commercials and an Oasis video that they made.

I was only speaking to Cathal Gaffney a couple of months ago when he told me Brown Bag had moved into new premises in Smithfield. He also mentioned that they had about sixty people working for them. I wondered at the scale of the business at the time but I never realised the amount of work they have on hand. Its incredible that the two lads have made such a good fist of their business. In fact last night’s talk served to give me a greater insight into the stuff that goes on here in Dublin unbeknownst to most others and myself. It reaffirms my faith in the city when I see so many people doing such good things. Sweet Talk and the related Candy magazine have now become essential reference points for me. Both serve to keep me up to date on the world of Irish design. You could do worse yourselves than to turn up at the next one for a bit of a look and listen.

sweet talking

This Thursday sees the return of Sweet Talk to The Sugar Club. I was at the last one of these in Dublin back in November and there was a mad drunk culchie chick telling the guest speakers that they were boring. Let's hope that she's learnt her lesson this time around and stays away. Even though I thought she was pretty funny the designer set could only tut-tut at her behaviour the last time out. This session sees a host of Irish design talent grace the podium with a selection of their design work and some accompanying narration. It's a great night out if you just want to have a couple of beers and listen to people talk about what they do for a living or for kicks, or sometimes both if they're lucky. The guests this time around are the Fashion stylist, Aisling Farinella, animators & producers Brown Bag, the illustrator Colm Mac Athlaoich and photographer, Matthew Thompson. Bring your MacBook and designer spectacles and a few quid to buy me a drink.

I picked up a couple of seven inches in town today but I really should have listened to them before I shelled out for them. The first is 'Cassius' by Foals and although its by no means the worst, I've enough average shite filling my shelves already. I can really do without space fillers when space on the shelves is at a premium. I still haven't sorted out new shelves for my seven inches. Does anyone know of a good carpenter? And I don't mean Karen or Richard! Foals play The Academy here in Dublin on April 20th.

The second tune that I picked up is by Cazals and its titled 'Life is Boring'. I only bought it because it was on the Kitsune label. Kitsune have put out a few decent tunes but this isn't one of them. It sounds like a wedding band trying to sound like Bloc Party. If its any consolation to the band my seven year old likes it. I asked him if he thought it or 'About you now' by The Sugababes was better and he plumped for the latter. I agree with him in his assessment. Cazals play The Button Factory on April 11th but if I was you I'd go and see Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings in the same venue on the previous evening.

I'm finding it hard to get time to write here in the evenings. I'm on evening duty with the new little fella and he tends to come alive at this time. He'll sit happily all day but likes to make himself heard for the same couple of hours every night. I admire his consistency.

shite talk

I've been wondering about the state of things recently. In particular I'm back on to the subject of free magazines available here in Dublin City. I'm only thinking about this again because I've decided to go to Sweet Talk in the Sugar Club this coming Thursday. As far as I know it has something to do with the creative types that publish online journal Candy Culture. I've been banging on about this subject before in this post here. On reflection I might have been a bit spiteful so please check out the 'caveats' in the comments section of it.

It once again brought back memories of The Slate, a free publication that vilified certain individuals (and rightly so!) but also knew how to have a good laugh at things and itself. In it's own words and on the release of it's 'Best of' edition it states
"For nearly three years, The Slate was the shining light of the Dublin media scene, attracting awe and attention from all quarters. With our cheap controversy, lame jokes and mistakes on every page, we quickly earned the respect of the nation.
Now you can leaf through this selection of our standout moments and learn that:

a) We had no idea what we were doing for the first few issues
b) We regularly changed our mind about things for no reason
c) The Slate was a dab hand at predicting things that never happened"

One inspired moment was the cut-out of Gavin Lambe-Murphy that you could place in your toilet bowl. A personally more inspiring article was one that featured me in my previous guise of The Golden Maverick. It was an article on the quality of radio programming and for some strange reason it transpired that I wasn't too awful to listen to compared to a lot of the shite on air at the time. Being mentioned in the same breath as Donal Dineen, I felt it validated my half-baked radio persona. At that time in my life I didn't know that I wanted or needed validation until I actually received it. Although I'd been happily doing my thing on radio for a number of years before the article 'Saving the Airwaves' appeared in The Slate, I must admit to having a spring in my step after reading it. I wonder what those lads are doing now? They're probably editing The Sunday Business Post or The Farmers Journal.

In the context of my previous posts on the state of Dublin press I wonder if it's the right thing to be denigrating the efforts of others. Besides editing the college paper for a year and making one or two (ok, maybe six or seven!) forays into music journalism I've offerd little to the medium. Judging by the amount of times I've been asked to produce a follow-up I obviously do not have a natural bent for it. No one ever came out straight and said I was shit, but by the same token no one ever said the writing was great. Sometimes, silence speaks volumes. I'm going to keep quiet about other peoples journalistic efforts in future. It seems that God loves a trier but that I'm not quite as forgiving.

I can agree with The Slate on two things

a) I have no idea what I'm writing most of the time
b) I regularly change my mind about things for no reason


PS - When writing all this shite I was doing a bit of interweb research and found the following in relation to someone else having a go at 'Mongrel' magazine. In defence of Mongrel one of their contributors had the following to say: "Incidentally, I'm not middle class and for three glorious years I was one of the main writers on the Slate. So, in conclusion, go fuck yourself." That's a fucking great riposte. Unfortunately it appears that they've stopped writing their blog for a while but I for one will be looking forward to its return, and in the meantime having a root through its archive.

the state of the press

No, I'm not referring to the Irish notion of a press, that thing the rest of the world call a cupboard, I'm talking about the journalistic type. There's a glut of magazines here in Dublin purporting to be some kind of press. I'm not talking about the business of broadsheet/tabloid press, I'm talking about the musical/social variety. When I say the social variety I use the term very loosely. Excuse me for a moment whilst I mount my high-horse. Unfortunately I strayed into the peculiar world of Irish social journalism recently. The story begins a couple of weeks ago...............................

Cue mysterious music and some dry ice

I chanced upon a copy of Image magazine on my kitchen table. My wife, being of the fairer sex, is wont to read such magazines. It purports to be some kind of fashion and style magazine for the discerning Irish woman. I wouldn't ususally dabble in these things but my eyes were drawn to an article entitled 'The boys are back in town'. Rather than the expected Thin Lizzy article this particular feature endeavoured to 'profile Ireland’s 60 brightest male sparks under 35.' I read on with interest and came across a number of chaps I've met over the years here that include, Arveene, Hugh Scully and the Bodytonic chaps. What a shower of blaggers I thought to myself! Ah well, it's Dublin, it's small. Maybe they were making up the numbers? Most surprising was the inclusion of the Mongrel pack. These guys manage to bring out a free stylised social/musical monthly, printed on high quality paper but stuffed full of low quality journalism. The fuckers must have money to burn. It does manage to do a decent feature every now and again but its probably some mistake on the part of one of their typesetters. In their defence, the magazine is free, but free does not always equal good. The former editor of The Slate said it was better but I'm convinced he was just trying to be nice.

The folks in Hot Press have the gall to charge people for what is usually a hybrid of the Big Issue and the now free In Dublin. If you want to pay €3.50 to read last months news next week then this is the one for you. In fairness, their typing and spelling is probably better than mine.

Always wanting to end on a positive note, there is one free social/music magazine doing the rounds of Dublin that I always like to pick up. Totally Dublin (can't find their website) features some simple honest writing and the odd quirky 'Top 5' feature. It appears that the thing is put together by some Swedes that are living here in Dublin but, as the Soundtracks Blog points out, they do seem to read Candy Culture for inspiration.

I mentioned Candy Culture in this post a few weeks back and I have not checked out if there's been a new edition since. As such I'll take my leave and head over there now. So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu.

reading material for the internet enabled

I only came across the Candy Culture website quite recently and its one of the better things I've seen come out of Dublin in a long while. I seem to be in a perpetual state of cultural catch up ever since i had kids. before the remixes arrived i was in a perpetual state of cultural oblivion. such is life