mp3: Sister Sneaker, Sister Soul (windows media)

website: http://www.mylatestnovel.com

You know, I was trying to be smart. I first wrote about My Latest Novel on March 25, 2004. You can see the proof here. So when it got to the 23rd last week and I began falling for their new album Wolves, I looked back in time to discover when I first found them, realised it was almost two years to the day, and thought to myself, “I know. I won’t write about them today, but I’ll save it until the anniversary and make it look more spooky.” So of course I ended up extra-busy again and it all slipped past. Now I look quite foolish instead.

The thing is, My Latest Novel are in Amsterdam tonight playing London Calling, and I thought long and hard about going because I’ve really wanted to see them live since I first heard them. But I just can’t help the fact I’ve been too busy, so I’ve settled for watching them on 3voor12TV all the time (as all they ever show is London Calling performances), and hoping that the band go down so well that they are given a proper Dutch tour in a few months.

The first song I ever heard by them was ‘Sister Sneaker, Sister Soul’ and I still love it. The windows media file I have linked at the top is still that original demo version I think. The album version is possibly more subtle in parts and also much longer, as it features an extended outro, but it’s still lovely.

As for the rest of Wolves, well I really wasn’t sure at first. One of the things that initially hit me was a couple of spoken word moments. Sometimes I’m into that kind of thing, but more often than not, I’m not - like with Arab Strap for example. But I’ve given it a fair go since, and I must admit that I’ve really come to like the complete album. When it wants to be dark there are swirling violins and great moments of tension. When it wants to be cheery, there are the perfect summer’s day moments like ‘Sister Sneaker’ and ‘The Hope Edition’.

I’ve noticed a trend of English press calling them the Scottish Arcade Fire. It’s quite funny seeing as how they had the core of their sound sorted long before anyone in Britain cared who the Arcade Fire were. But I suppose it can’t hurt too much, and there are brief glimpses where I can see what they mean. The more prominent comparisons in my mind, however, are Belle and Sebastian, Deacon Blue (Fellow Hoodlums-era for those spoken word bits, but I think it’s just me hearing that), and when they’re at their best I get to remember The Delgados (who I really miss).

Not only am I sorry that I’m not seeing them tonight, they make me regret not being around more in Glasgow where I could experience bands like this regularly. For now, I’ll just settle for having a lovely album to carry around with me for the coming spring.

Okay, so it’s a couple of months since I first posted about V for Vendetta. Well it got its NL release yesterday and my review published in the Amsterdam Weekly, so being a cheeky bugger, here it is. In fact, this version is bigger and better. When it came to the printed version a whole 350 words were chopped at the last minute to make way for ads. That’s life sometimes. Anyway, I didn’t change my mind from my earlier post. I still like it…

Is it the kiss of death for a film when the man behind the story’s inception turns his back on it? Well, clearly not if you throw enough money at it, cast big name stars like Natalie Portman, Hugo Weaving and John Hurt, and hire the men behind The Matrix to bring it to fruition.

This is the case with V for Vendetta, a politically inspired action-adventure based on a comic series, and later, a graphic novel. Begun in 1981 by Alan Moore and illustrated by David Lloyd, it drew upon the conservative political climate of the era, imagining a futuristic post-nuclear Britain of 1997. The country is being trampled by a totalitarian government with much of the developed world being wiped out in war, and our hero V is its unlikely saviour. He hides behind a Guy Fawkes mask, boasts no special powers–other than the lyrical prowess of a Shakespearean actor and a dark desire to avenge those who have wronged him in the past–and has the will to inspire a civil uprising against the country’s leaders.

Moore finally completed the work in 1988, and it has come to be regarded as one of the finest examples of graphic novels in existence, filled with sharp dialogue, elaborate artwork and powerful themes about freedom, the value of art, loss, revenge and fascist control.

Understandably, however, in the process of readying the movie for filmgoers, scriptwriters Larry and Andy Wachowski–directors of The Matrix trilogy–have modernised the story, throwing it further into the future, to 2020, and replacing the fears of then with the prime Western concern of the present: terrorism.

Yet Moore is none too happy with what the brothers have done to his masterpiece. In fact, he isn’t happy about how Hollywood has treated any of his works although, with the adaptations of From Hell (2001) and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003), you can see his point. But it should be remembered that Moore is a self-confessed perfectionist and control freak with a specific vision: anything which doesn’t match that view is typically met with discontent, so take his complaints with a pinch of salt.

This cinematic rendition of V for Vendetta is actually a whole lot of fun and encapsulates the spirit of the original. It maintains a healthy dose of grit and grime, right down to the unsightly grey English complexions and rotting teeth, and frames its stark images in a convincing comic book style.

Dealing with a verbose script, Hugo Weaving (The Matrix, Lord of the Rings) has the unusual task of performing the lead role from behind a mask, meaning it’s essentially a voice-over part. He carries it off, though, handling the rapid-fire alliteration with ease, and selling the culture-loving personality of V. And let’s be honest, the prospect of Natalie Portman (Garden State, Closer) performing for two hours in an English accent is enough to unsettle the strongest stomach, but even she, as Evey, V’s unknowing pupil, manages an accomplished turn. Perhaps too much attention is lavished upon the scene of her weeping while having her hair shaved off–we’ve all had bad haircuts.

Thankfully there is much more subtlety and clarity here than can be found in the last two Matrix movies, and while there are some very neat action sequences scattered throughout–though primarily punctuating the spectacular beginning and end–the in between plots are strong enough to satisfy when the focus falls upon speech.

There’s the impressive supporting cast, too. John Hurt, the antithesis of his Winston Smith role in 1984, stars as Supreme Chancellor Adam Sutler. This self-styled leader of the government appears on massive TV screens throughout the Orwellian dystopia. Stephen Rea plays the detective Finch, the man put in charge of stopping V, who stumbles upon a horrific cover-up in the process. Meanwhile, Stephen Fry is given the electric task of almost playing himself in the form of an intelligent, culture-hungry, secretly gay TV host, who provides some of the best comedy, particularly through a mock Benny Hill sequence which satirises Sutler.

Of course there are always angles to attack the story, and the easiest is to question how acts of terrorism like blowing up London’s Old Bailey and the Houses of Parliament–symbolic as they are–could dent a government which laid its foundations by spreading fear and lies. But this isn’t Syriana, offering only bleak truths. It’s just a piece of lively fantasy fiction–albeit one with a bit of edge, for a pleasant change–and it’s allowed to sell some hope in anarchy.

Think positive: as well as being an entertaining movie with a breathtakingly visual pay-off in its finale, it has the power to spark thought and encourage debate–how many comic heroes have managed that? And for those still worried about Moore’s great work being tarnished by yet another glossy adaptation, V for Vendetta is sure to turn a whole new generation towards his printed work, where they can be digested and judged as originally intended. Isn’t that the happy ending that it deserves?

mp3: Think Niles Drink
mp3: Strike You As The Enemy
video: Think Niles Drink

website: http://www.whataboutabout.com

It’s no secret that every so often I get wildly excited about a song or album then start writing effusively. Well, I think my latest audio crush is About, aka Amsterdammer Rutger Hoedemaekers.

I first came across him last year while doing the music listings for the paper. I should add that some band names are a real bugger to work with. As you can imagine, a lot of my work involves scouring Google and trying to find a website to find samples that I can write about, and just you try find a band called About without knowing where to start. Anyway, I somehow did find the site eventually, and was impressed enough with the audio clips on there to bookmark it for future reference.

So six or seven months later and his debut album Bongo is out, and whenever I listen to it, I can’t help thinking, ‘bloody brilliant!’ Only 32 minutes long, it’s just short, sharp bursts of great fun.

Quoting myself from the newspaper, ‘it’s straight in your face with a concoction of glitchy electro madness, spiky guitars, unexpected pop hooks and persistent energy. When asked what drives such diversity, his answer was simply, ‘I get bored quite easily, so I try to keep it interesting.’ Either way it works, and when he’s joined onstage with guitarist/vocalist Marg as he pushes buttons, twists dials and sings his songs enthusiastically, it’s all about the release and having a fantastic time - just like gigs should be.’

However, I was limited in space with that piece, so let me add that his music is like some sort of unlawful cross between three of my favourite Dutch acts – Voicst, Persil and Solex.

There are a couple of reasons why I have the comparison with Voicst in my head. Firstly, it’s because he was responsible for the electro flourishes on their album 11-11, and has appeared onstage with them to add some extra noise too. But while the balance of electronics and guitars is weighted more towards the electronic manipulation on his album, there’s still an element of punk spirit mingling with the poppy hooks and breakcore mania, and it all comes together in a wall of energy. Often the hardest thing to capture on tape (or a hard disk), all the noise and melody of Bongo is just brimming with life and that’s why I can’t help getting excited by it.

If I was to single anything out, ‘Think Niles Drink’, ‘Band Dynamics’ and ‘She Knows Everything About All Who Ever Drank Coffee With Her’ are three of the best pop songs I’ve heard this year, but thanks to the runtime of 32 minutes, Bongo is seemingly one of those rare albums that I can tolerate going right back to the beginning and playing again.

Upcoming Dutch shows include:

22/03 - Club3voor12, Amsterdam
25/03 - Vera, Groningen
15/04 - De Nieuwe Anita, Amsterdam
27/04 - Patronaat, Haarlem

I love my mp3 player. I write that in fear in case I tempt fate and it breaks, but hey, it’s not even a year old yet, so let’s hope not.

I picked up my Creative Nomad Zen Xtra 40GB player last year in America, and coming in at around £118 thanks to the currency differences, it was quite a bargain. It was far from a new range at the time, and I think you’d do well to find one new now seeing as they introduced more expensive models that do the same thing but look snazzier in the process.

But I’m not one to care about prettiness. After all, up until around 2002 I was still walking around with a massive bulge in my pocket that was actually just my walkman. Then there was a switch over to a discman, and again, I was perfectly happy to have such a bulky object attached to me as long as I could mix music and motion. So when I finally made the move to an mp3 player, my biggest priority wasn’t finding a player that will fit inside my mouth or be a gaudy white colour, but one which sounded good and had enough space to carry more than I’d ever have time to listen to. The Zen Xtra does that job wonderfully, and even though I sometimes receive nosey looks on the train, as if to ponder, ‘what kind of ugly ipod is that?’ it’s actually quite shiny and sleek once you strip back it’s free leather case – yes a free accessory.

At the same time I bought the mp3 player, I also made the great retail judgement to purchase Sennheiser PX100 headphones, and there’s no doubting that those are the best personal headphones I’ve ever owned. Truth be told, I think they even have a better bass response than my aging Sennheiser studio headphones, and for such a small package that folds away neatly in your bag, they’re an audiophile’s dream. The only small negative is that their open design means sound easily spills outwards, so I tend to tread carefully on busy trains so as not to annoy people – unless they annoy me first, then I let the volume rip.

The story doesn’t finish there, however, because in fact a second mp3 player joined the Stayfun family last month. As a graduation present for Natasja, and in the knowledge that she would probably be starting a new job soon and doing a lot of travelling, I opted for the Creative Zen Nano Plus 1GB. Not through loyalty to Creative or anything of the sort. I still do my rigorous research when looking to purchase any elements of technology. It just seemed to fit the bill of having a reasonable capacity, a host of cool features that might be handy, like voice recording, a line-in and FM radio, and primarily it’s tiny, which is ideal for her to carry around.

So over the past couple of weeks it’s been getting used and so far it seems pretty good. The limited capacity doesn’t suit my personal listening habits – I like to carry all the key albums from my collection, as well as a lot of new stuff to try out – but for what it is, it’s another Creative product I’m really happy with. And while the FM radio could be seen as a gimmick, I’ve actually found it achieves better reception in my home than my DVD player which has an aerial attached.

Yesterday while at the cinema to see Syriana, I experienced an advert for Heineken centred around Voicst and one of their live performances. Now fair enough, as far as I’m concerned they can sell their songs to whoever they want, and as the majority of their fans will be beer drinkers, then maybe it makes sense. It’s just a little weird seeing this little band up there on the big screen, although obviously they aren’t being viewed by the corporates as so little anymore. The only worry I do have is that I wouldn’t like them to be pulled in the same direction as Di-Rect (ultimately more poppy I know, but can corporate ears determine that?), who seem to jump through hoops to keep their faces in the spotlight.

However, I wasn’t posting to be negative about Voicst. I had originally wanted to supply some mp3s for those people outside of the Netherlands who haven’t heard them, only I can’t find any these days. Instead you have the Media section on their website (click on Media, then the record, then an album cover). It’s not so handy, but it technically works.

Additionally I was inspired to post about the Pete Philly and Perquisite cover of ‘Dazzled Kids’ which you can also find in the media section. It’s really well done, and while I haven’t covered the cool hip-hop of Pete Philly here yet, I may come back to it in the future.

Still not finished, last night I found myself watching this Voicst acoustic session recorded on the Amsterdam Metro (in December I think). It’s pretty sweet actually, and while I began here by talking about corporate sponsorship, I don’t think the band have turned particularly evil. Maybe they’re just developing stronger survival strategies. But this fun session proves how down-to-earth they still are.

I’ve just read that Ivor Cutler has died. How sad. Admittedly at the age of 83, his life is one to be celebrated not mourned, but still. He’s been responsible for so much wonderful surreal poetry, music and comedy over the years, and it’s just sad to think of him not being there anymore. Although, undoubtedly his legacy of work will live on for a long time - as it already has.

For those less familiar with Ivor Cutler, you can always start with the samples on his website, though they’re far too short. So instead get onto soulseek and download an album like Velvet Donkey or Life in a Scotch Sitting Room vol.2. They’re a great entry into a strange and fascinating world.

mp3: World Wide Suicide - Registration Required

website: http://www.pearljam.com

Are Pearl Jam still relevant? I don’t know. Are REM? I don’t know, but I still like both bands, although, while in some regards they tread a similar path of doing something for too long, I still feel a bit thrilled listening to old REM songs, while I can’t even imagine listening to Pearl Jam’s Ten.

But yes, I still have a soft spot for Pearl Jam, and truth be told, if they ever toured Europe again I’d probably want to go. They only played Scotland once during my musical lifetime and that was a horrible arena, so I’d probably like a chance to put it right.

Anyway, they have a new album out in May, and as a taster they have the rather energetic ‘World Wide Suicide’ available as a free download. Registration only takes a few seconds so don’t let that put you off.

I personally don’t do much in regards to taking photos at gigs. I’ve tried and failed. I’m sure I could work on the techniques and actually end up with reasonable results in the end, but mainly I just feel weird putting my thoughts towards a camera rather than being consumed by swirling music.

But that doesn’t mean I’m against concert photography, although, I confess that in an age where everyone thinks they’re capable of taking good shots, even when using a camera phone, i do wish i had laser eyesight and could send mobile phones up in flames when they’re raised above ear level.

Anyway, when done properly concert shots are cool, and I’ve borrowed plenty over the years for Stayfun. This week, Onno published a short essay on his website about techniques and etiquette, and you can read it all here at his Concert Photography Guide.

Why do his words matter? Well, it’s only a guide, not a set of laws, but you might find them helpful. And while my typical Scottish nature means I find it easier to make fun of his work rather than compliment it, he’s been managing some really nice photos that I would have stolen and plastered all over older incarnations of Stayfun.

mp3: Summersetsun

website: http://www.suicidalbirds.com

When The Suicidal Birds first signed to Transformed Dreams the hype just never really worked on me. I guess I just wasn’t impressed by the audio samples on their website at the time, which in terms of compression and technology (flash), just ruined it for me. But I’m not so stubborn that I can’t go back and change my opinions – unless it’s a band like Belle and Sebastian where I’ve said too much to ever try take it back.

Anyway, after seeing The Suicidal Birds play at Noorderslag in January, everything clicked into its beautiful place. Performing as a duo with a drum machine, there was just so much intensity and passion coming from them. Harking back to the violence and angst of riot-grrrl, but mainly screwing with all your preconceptions of garage rock, messy lo-fi blues and punk - with little shards of PJ Harvey and Breeders at times - all their edges are as rough, distorted and shaky as can be. But see them play and just do what they do, it becomes blatantly apparent that songwriter Jessie is a bloody good frontwoman.

Her ability to scream and still convey a tune is supreme. As is the ability to repeat one line over and over and have the song finish still sounding fresh. Scout Niblett can do that, but it’s a rare talent. And I know from experience that almost anyone can collect four overdriven chords and turn it into a song, but what’s so hard is creating something special, that through its performance makes you feel alive. The Suicidal Birds have that bit of magic, and kudos to Marcel at Transformed Dreams for recognising that and signing them.

I regret taking so long to realise how good they are, but I’m just one person and the band don’t need me. They’ve already been doing fairly well in Britain, doing shows and radio sessions. Dutch bands making it big abroad are quite a rare thing, but with the right support these weird Frisians could do it. And despite an international music scene clogged up with blues, garage and punk bands, I think they’d easily deserve it.

I should also state that the linked mp3 is part of Transformed Dreams’ free compilation from last year. I always meant to link at the time, but never did. Most people will have it anyway, but if not, here it is.

Well, that’s how it feels sometimes, and that’s the impression you may get from the current celebrations marking the 100th issue of Amsterdam Weekly. Click on the link and see the 18 second viral marketing video (up until at least Wednesday).

A lot of work went into the 100th issue as it’s another comics edition. So as well as the usual articles and listings, there’s an extra section of comic drawings by a selection of Dutch artists and it looks fun.

The good news is that I’ve been working like a maniac to build a new Amsterdam Weekly website (the main reason it’s been so quiet here lately), and so soon you’ll be able to access Amsterdam listings online as well as in the actual paper. Plus there is likely to be a pdf download of the weekly issue, meaning you no longer need to be in Amsterdam to get a copy - especially handy for me as I don’t get in every week. The bad news is, the site hasn’t officially been launched yet, so you’ll have to wait a bit longer. But due to all the effort I’ve put in, I’ll be announcing it here first.

Anyway, last night was the officially birthday party at De Foyer/De Nieuwe Anita (100 issues = 2 years since the launch. I estimate I’ve had content in at least 98 of those issues). I was feeling particularly rough with a cold, but after all the effort I’ve put in recently, I didn’t want everyone else to be having a party without me - especially when there’s free beer and carrots at stake.

The point is, I’m quite proud of my involvement with the newspaper. It has its ups and downs, but we’ve done a lot of good work over two years - plus it’s aided my survival in a foreign land. So if you read the paper, continue the support because it’s appreciated through all levels of the staff. If you haven’t ever seen it before, then definitely check it out.

Yesterday I got an email from Dermot pointing me to this page.

There’s not much I have to add as the text is all on that blog, as are the links to two mp3 files. But just in case you’re too lazy to click, contained is information about French singer-songwriter Emily Loizeau and two of her songs - one of which is a duet with Andrew Bird.

Very pretty stuff, however, the files are hosted temporarily through YouSendIt, so be quick or you’ll miss it.

I see that Murderball is on BBC4 tonight (which I have via my UPC digital tv, when either the cable box is working, they remember to switch on the BBC4 signal, and when my tv is actually working - so the odds aren’t actually that high). Not sure why it’s happening so fast. It only got a Dutch cinema release back in December or January. Anyway, it’s an interesting documentary and it reminded me to publish the review I wrote for Amsterdam Weekly back when it came out. I recommend checking it out the film, if not on tv tonight, then on DVD…

Up to now, the sport of quadriplegic wheelchair rugby has never been much of a headline grabber. It’s never in the scrum for television airtime and is unlikely to fill huge arenas, but judging by the action and characters of Murderball, maybe it should. Initial scenes of high speed clashes, metal on metal and customised chariot-style wheelchairs being flipped over on impact are simply captivating, as well as brutal, viewing. However, the scenes of sporting carnage are only a small fragment of what this 2005 Sundance Film Festival award-winning (Documentary Audience Award and a Special Jury Prize for Editing) documentary is about.

Following the players of the USA ‘murderball’ team at wheelchair eyelevel for a period of two years, events kick off at the 2002 World Championships in Sweden and carry through to the 2004 Paralympics in Athens, by way of three sporting acts, each focused on the burning rivalry between the American and Canadian teams. But in between the action–which isn’t as dominant as you’d gather from just watching the trailer–we’re given a very personal insight into the lives of the US players.

All the players are quadriplegic and have been left with varying degrees of movement, either from serious accidents or illness. Their scars and deformities are often vividly on display, as are their histories–how they ended up in wheelchairs, adapted to a new lifestyle, sought love and sex, and how quad rugby has reinstated dignity and purpose to their lives. It’s this that drives the film more than the sporting competition.

The primary American protagonist is Mark Zupan. The film opens in silence as we watch him battling to change into his training gear. It’s a simple action that most of us take for granted, but the scene isn’t there to gain pity or show how tough it can be without four working limbs.

Rather, it places Zupan’s need for independence right on the front line, and also marks him out as one tough bastard. He looks the part too, tattooed, with a buzz-cut and heavy metal goatee. His friends are quick to point out that he was just as bitter and twisted before the accident which broke his neck–as a teenager, he fell asleep in the back of his friend’s pick-up after a night out (the drunken driver was completely unaware of this), and was thrown from the truck after it spun off the road. Landing in a ditch, he saved himself by hanging from a branch for thirteen-and-a-half hours.

For the purposes of the documentary, Canada coach Joe Soares is portrayed as Zupan and his team’s arch-enemy. A former American quad rugby hero, he won every trophy going and he remains fiercely competitive: when he was finally dropped for being too old and slow, he attempted to sue the team selectors. After that fell through, in an act of ultimate defiance, Soares defected and headed north to coach the Canadians.

Screaming at the top of his lungs until it seems his head will explode, his passion for winning is at once both comic and terrifying. He must beat the Americans at all costs, and after he has a heart attack, he almost gets his wish. But as he recovers, the film offers a moving subplot, as you experience the bond growing between him and his young son Robert, who, unlike his dad, prefers playing the viola to sport.

The inclusion of Keith Cavill, a motorbike fanatic injured in a riding accident, is another reward. Whereas Team USA players have mainly adjusted to their situations, we are introduced to Cavill and his family as he struggles to come to terms with all he could lose in the first year of his rehabilitation. After a meeting with Zupan and a try-out in his specialist ‘murderball’ chair, you nevertheless see the glint return to his eye and the potential birth of a new quad rugby player.

Filmmakers Henry Alex Rubin and Dana Adam Shapiro and the players all maintain that Murderball is no feel-good hit. It isn’t seeking pity or even attempting to inspire others with any kind of sentimentality: to them, quad rugby is just reality. But the documentary can’t help itself; to the casual viewer, it doesn’t matter if USA achieve gold in Athens or not, but when you see the daily struggle the players undergo, the achievements they’ve made, and the effects the sport has on those coming to terms with a life-changing disability, you’ll do well not to leave the cinema both moved and inspired. By the time the Paralympics kick off in Beijing in 2008, there’ll be plenty more cameras pointing their way.