Head Space Daily Words...

My kids are on half term at the moment and in my current jobless/freelance state and with the rain pouring down outside, today was a cinema day. Looking at the listings there were two possible films to go and see. Namely, Epic and All Stars. We asked our boys which one they would like to see and the resounding answer was "the one with real people." Hallelujah. The trailer for Epic is the usual CGI nonsense of style over substance. A booming OTT voice over gives it all the "in a world where blah de blah," before name checking a list of the dozen or so star voices of various repulsive insect characters. Yawn, seen it all before, move on please and besides that, the trailer told us nothing about the movie. The trailer for All Stars on the other hand made it clear that it was the story of a bunch of kids trying to save their beloved youth club from the grubby hands of the evil developers. Simple. Could they do it? How would they do it? The force of good against evil. Immediately my kids are wondering how it's going to turn out and were intrigued by the personalities and relationships of the group. It was actually a very good film, nicely shot, well scripted and some very nice moments. Some of it was a little cliched but all films have some element of cliche and after all this is aimed at children. My favourite moment was where the main character - Jayden - drifts into his imagination, whilst sitting an exam, finding himself in a setting of paper cut trees and life size paper cut robots, leading to a Wu-Tang style martial arts sequence. Very nicely done. I won't give away the ending beyond it doesn't involve death or tragedy but if you have kids and a rainy day, the film is well worth going to see. My youngest, who is eight and a half years old declared it was the best film he had ever seen and wants a copy on DVD. Praise indeed...

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Lets play darts!! The dart board at the club where my boys play tennis...

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Eric B And Rakim - Paid In Full (Coldcut Remix)

HSD Tune goes all classic hip hop remix madness tonight...

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The sun has been shining. That is all...

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I featured a photo from this shop of all sorts on Sclater Street a couple of months ago, with an action man in an uncompromising position. This time, Lenin is looking resplendent...

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Marvin Gaye - Praise

My favourite Marvin Gaye track. Unique voice, fantastic tune...

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Last night I went to a dear friend's 40th birthday celebration at a bar in Spitalfields in Shoreditch. It was a very good bash and nice to have a few beers and catch up with old friends. It's not often I am out late in town, so it was good to be soaking up the night time atmosphere of Brick Lane, the last train home and the night bus. I left the bar around 11.30PM to walk along Brick Lane. It was full of punters queuing to get into venues, there were people leaning out of windows, taking in the scene below, there were homeless people begging for change, there were fashion victims, cool cats and wannabes, a group of people dressed like Where's Wally (see Daily Image) and there was the Brick Lane Beigel Bakery, which is where I was heading.  This place is an essential destination on Brick Lane if you have the munchies, or the need to buy bagels and it was as busy as always. A (bakers) dozen of plain bagels was acquired, along with a tuna mayo and sweetcorn bagel, with a diet coke, for less than a fiver. Bargain. Out the shop, second right along Sclater Street and on to Shoreditch High Street Station, for the East London Line. Outside the station was sitting a homeless girl, begging for money, which is a pitiful state to be in, whatever your view may be of begging on the streets. I gave her one of my bagels and her eyes lit up with gratitude. Whether you're rich or poor, you've got to eat. On the platform of Shoreditch station was a group of friends - three boys, three girls - and one of the lads had his pants down whilst the others placed waxing strips on his arse and defuzzed the peach. Ouch. We boarded the last train of the evening, which only went as far as New Cross Gate, so the need to catch the 171 night bus arose. To my right were sat two Bayern Munich fans, in full kit, with German flags painted on their faces, after watching Bayern win the Champions League Final. We passed through Brockley and I got off the bus, walking the short distance home, under the glare of the full moon, in the clear night sky...

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The Where' Wally crowd on Brick Lane last night...

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The Doors - Riders On The Storm

Ray Manzarek, keyboard player from the Doors passed away this week and I had forgotten just what an amazing catalogue of incredible tunes the band had recorded...

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There was a live performance, which I must check out on i-player, on 6Music yesterday, by The Flaming Lips, to celebrate the bands thirty years together. I am not a fanatical fan and have never seen them live but I own copies of The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots. The Flaming Lips, with front man Wayne Coyne, seem to live on the extremities of what is considered normal and have a bloody good time doing it. Walking on stage wearing a pair of laser shooting giant rubber hands must be a great laugh. Rolling out across the heads of your audience inside a huge plastic bubble has to be a total buzz.  They are having fun and it all appears to be done with the utmost integrity, providing a comment on how ridiculous life is and begging you to enjoy it whilst you still can. The Yoshimi album is one I often go back to, which is a sign of a great album. It consists of humour and emotion. You find yourself rooting for Yoshimi, who is going to save us all by herself from the evil robots. If you ever have a daughter, please, name her Yoshimi. The Flaming Lips song which to me encapsulates what they are about, is in my opinion one of the greatest songs ever written and is possibly their most well known song, is Do You Realise; a tragic, euphoric masterpiece, which joyfully approaches life and death and confronts our place in the Universe. The message is to enjoy life while you can; love the ones you’re with, and don’t look back. We’re all going to die anyway, so make the most of the experience. The song even tarnishes one of life’s most beautiful, natural experiences – the sunset – with the words “you realise the sun doesn’t go down, it’s just an illusion caused by the world spinning round.” It is all beautifully done, leaving you unsure whether to laugh or cry. A modern masterpiece... 

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I am the Walrus. A shop front on Dartmouth Road in Forest Hill...

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The Flaming Lips - Do You Realise??

A song that never fails to bring a tear to my eye. Life, death, love and the Universe. It's got it all...

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Sitting on my train this morning with the new Deerhunter album blaring in my ears, I couldn't help thinking that the world is a weird fucking place. As we trundled past the Georgian houses of Paddington and 60s high rise council blocks, Trellick Tower on the right and through the Crossrail extension construction works, aimed at modernising the rail system at Paddington Station, I wondered just how far have we actually come as a race of people. The train picked up speed, zooming beneath unending cables, as we passed over a canal en route to Hayes and Harlington, with calm little barges, peacefully floating on the surface, before passing under a bridge, supporting a dual carriage way, vehicles roaring overhead, then pulling up alongside the Nestle factory, billowing out plumes of thick grey smoke. I have never been on a barge, let alone had the desire to live on one but out of the three images, that felt the most appealing. No progress or technology with a simple barge, just you bobbing on the water. Technology and means of communication have developed hugely but are only really useful when they are used in a positive way. We spend so much time communicating in virtual grunts, mixed messages and abbreviations via e mail and so little time actually making real connections, that we only ever scratch the surface. We end up living in a world of unfinished sentences, misread statements, exclamation marks and double meanings. The basic function of speaking face to face is still the best way forward. As Bob Hoskins said on those BT ads years ago - "It's good to talk."

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A mini cricket ball from Lord's...

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Big Mamma Thornton - Hound Dog

I heard this on a BBC 4 show the other day and it is the original version of Hound Dog which was covered by Elvis.  The original is the best...

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Soreen Malt Loaf. Enough said...

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A beautiful launderette form Margate...

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Gil Scott-Heron - Me And The Devil

I just heard this tune on an ad for a Sky drama. It is from an incredible record, called I'm New Here and was Gil Scott-Heron's final album before he passed away. Great video as well...

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Watching a cricket match requires a very different mindset to that needed to watch a football match, which is my usual sporting pursuit. Whilst football's tribal nature and fierce rivalries invoke a very tense state of attrition, cricket involves a patient sense of expectation and a Corinthian spirit, rarely seen in modern team sport. It is easier to cultivate such a spirit in a non confrontational atmosphere but where else do you spend so much time applauding the opposition? My boys and me saw England beat New Zealand at Lord's yesterday and witnessed an exhilarating end to the match. The final four English batsmen fell and the entire New Zealand team were skittled out in little over three hours - including lunch!! This was my second time at Lord's and the only other cricket ground I have been to is Trent Bridge, where I was flanked by an army of guy's dressed as Star Wars characters, two clowns were ejected from the ground, which I found extremely clownist and we sang to Monty Panesar, who was standing on the boundary, in front of us. It was a good natured, fun day out, fuelled by beer. All other grounds such as Edgbaston, The Oval and Old Trafford, having seen them on TV over the years, would appear to be similar in atmosphere. Lord's though, is a little different. Marelybone Cricket Club moved to St.John's Wood and what eventually became known as Lord's in 1814. Cricket was already well established as an elitist past time, enjoyed by nobility and the wealthy but the plebs were allowed to infiltrate as time went by and a sense of the past still remains at Lord's. Due to being located in a wealthy part of London, it's reverential status as the home of cricket, with it's immense history, Lord's can attract a higher class of clientele. When it comes to wine, I prefer red over white but a guy a few seats down the row from me announced, "I don't drink a lot of Italian wine." As we walked to the exit at lunch, I overheard another guy, whilst he leant over, wine bottle in hand, ask his friends, "a topsy anyone?" Tim Nice but Dim would have been proud. As we sat down in the picnic area to start on our packed lunch, a couple opened their hamper, the padded interior revealing a fine set of cutlery, resting inside pouches, as they took out their parma ham and a host of cheeses. It is one of the few places I have been to where obviously rich, upper class types, mix freely with people that would be considered to be of normal income and social status. In the rather genteel toilet block, a fellow Villa fan had some fan banter with my youngest son who was wearing his Villa top and on the way out a bloke, who I can only assume was a Birmingham City supporter, was less complimentary. So, back to reality but it was good to escape to a different sporting culture for a day...

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This was our view from the Compton Stand at Lord's on Sunday. A thoroughly enjoyable half a day's play at the home of cricket...

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Sterling Void - It's Alright

I fancy a deep house anthem this evening. Whilst searching for a decent Sterling Void related picture, I came across this shot of Roger Sterling from Mad Men. It's going to be alright people...

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The wonder of Test Match Special returned to our radio today, filling our kitchen and dining room with the third day of England's first home test match of the season against New Zealand at Lord's. The show is so quintessentially English it would never translate into any other country's culture. For those of you that have never listened, or don't follow cricket, the programme consists of former cricket players and the hilariously posh Henry Blofeld, randomly wandering from one obscure topic to another. Each of the commentators, presenters and summarisers has a nickname, which is generally an abbreviation of their surname. Today, the poetic 'Blowers' described the "nodding horse chestnut trees" around Lord's, before discussing the game of conkers with Micheal Vaughan aka 'Vaughnie.' Geoffrey Boycott or 'Boycs,' recounted a story of Pavarotti singing opera in his speedos, whilst standing in the sea, off a Jamaican beach. We learnt about Beethoven and semaphore from the guest New Zealand commentator and the cheeky Essex boy, Phil Tuffnell or 'Tuffers,' couldn't resist a pun on Joe Root's surname, by chucking in a Root 66 gag, when the player had scored that number of runs. Jonathan Agnew, known as 'Aggers' and the main presenter, beautifully described the noise of the crowd as "the lovely Lord's hum." In amongst all this humorous chat, wonderful anecdote and talk about food, cardigans and footwear, is some commentary on the actual cricket itself. My boys and me are off to Lord's tomorrow, so we will be able to experience it first hand. Can't wait. Just hope the weather holds out...

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Who you gonna call? A couple of Ghostbusters at Oxford Circus tube station...

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Nu Yorican Soul - The Nervous Track

I had forgotten just how good this track is. An absolute blinding tune form Masters At Work, which must be around 20 years old now. Quality lives on...

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After filling our stomachs with a meat, clam and potato concoction at a Portuguese restaurant on Stockwell Road, me and my gig buddy, made our way to Brixton Academy, to watch Alt-J. You may already know this but by pressing the alt and J keys simultaneously on your computer keyboard, a perfectly formed triangle is created - hence the band's symbol. As the line in Tesselate goes, "Triangles are my favourite shape, three points where two lines meet." The Alt-J boys love a good triangle. Their music is a downbeat mix of abstract layered vocals, with intricate, often delicate, musical arrangements. When you listen to it, the music can envelope you, it feels quite personal. Brixton Academy is a big old venue, holding around five thousand people and it was just way too big to carry Alt-J's sound. They didn't do anything wrong, they played well and sung nicely but it felt like having five thousand people in my front room and switching on the CD. We were up in the balcony which can leave you feeling slightly detached and I did wonder if I was missing something, because people around me were caught in the moment, making triangle shapes with their thumbs and forefingers - something I struggle to accomplish, as I have bendy thumbs - and making that old heavy metal sign with index finger and little finger pointing forward, with the thumb to the side. Perhaps I'm getting too old for this sort of malarkey  but the reaction seemed way out of proportion to the music. There were singalong moments, to words that I can barely decipher, due to the singer's unique delivery - and that's the way I like it, I want to hear him sing, not the audience. We weren't at a Killers gig. As my mate said, he was "waiting for the lighters to come out and for it to go all Cliff Richard." I think that to pull it off at Brixton Academy, you need to perform, you need something extra. When I think of past gigs I've seen at Brixton, Friendly Fires on their Pala tour springs to mind. A strong light show, interesting back drops, a South American dancing troupe, and Ed Macfarlane, the lead singer, moving, jerking, running, dancing, captivating. These Alt-J boys last night were rooted to the spot, I guess it is not that sort of music but it did feel as if, having won the Mercury Music Prize last year for best album, that they are milking the money cow. It could all be too much too soon in my view. Heaven, a venue close to Charing Cross Station, would have been the perfect size to host the band, giving them chance to cut their teeth a bit more and get an act together. Back to the drawing board please lads and get some presence. Top album though; who's coming round for a listen...

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Here is one of Juan Munoz's sculptures from the Turner Contemporary Museum in Margate...

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Smokey Robison & The Miracles - The Tears Of A Clown

I fancy a Motown Classic this evening and it doesn't get much better than this bitter sweet dancer from Smokey and his Miracles...

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The Route to West Drayton

Aeroplanes drift towards Heathrow, a long haul procession reflecting the sun, streaming over graffiti-abandoned carriages, as Nestle lies empty and Sunrise stands tall.

Honey Monster mocks with a super furry grin, the wasteland before him abandoned, rattling on in our speedy tin can, as we make our journey to work.

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Alt-J - Breezeblocks

I'm off to see Alt-J at Brixton tomorrow evening. I've not been to a gig for a while, so I am very much looking forward to it. The vocals are layered up, clever and a bit weird and the bass on some of their tunes will make the Academy rattle...

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I took this picture yesterday, outside a department store next to Oxford Circus tube station. A homeless man sleeping with his dog, as the daily bustle of life goes on around him...

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This morning, I found myself sitting in the Genius Bar at the Apple Store on Regent Street - a doctor's waiting room for poorly computers. Yesterday, the call had arrived for me to work from Wednesday until the end of next week. Great news. I had also arranged a meeting with a potential client for today to discuss how we could work together. All good. Then, disaster struck. Last night, I dropped my laptop, resulting in a shattered screen and a barely breathing MacBook. I was distraught, as I rely on my computer to work from home. This morning, as soon as I had dropped my kids at school, I sped over to the Apple Store on a mercy dash and was directed to the Genius Bar, where I was given an appointment to discuss my computer's symptoms. The techno doctor is known as a Genius and he was an understanding listener who lent a sympathetic ear as I described how the screen had turned green, although I had managed to initiate a backup and how, when I checked on the patient this morning, there was only the occasionally flickering pulse of light registering. Could my computer be saved? A mobile monitor was rushed in, wires attached and some form of electro CPR administered. The drive was in tact. Hallelujah. The screen was buggered. I went to my meeting, whilst my MacBook went into surgery. Several hours later, I returned, met by a Latvian Genius nurse to collect the patient. The Genius doctors and nurses are incredibly chatty and charming, making the whole experience feel as if you have stepped into some otherworldly experience, where only calmness, knowledge and good manners prevail. Not a bad way to be...

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The Genius Bar, the computer hospital at the Apple Store on Regent Street...

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Patti Austen - (I've Given) All My Love

An uplifting Northern Soul beauty to lift your spirits on this rainy day in May...

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On Saturday, due to a combination of tiredness and a beer at the football, I drifted off to sleep during half time of the FA Cup Final. It was that kind of lucid semi-sleep, where you are just dipping beneath the surface, not diving all the way into blackness but almost existing in two worlds at the same time. You might call it dozing off. Around ten minutes into the second half I surfaced, dazed and confused from my slumber to utter the immortal words “we’ve got cheese haven’t we?” As the words were coming out of my mouth, I became aware of what I was saying but it was too late to stop them forming and being released. Where it came from, I have no idea. As I was in my mum and dad’s front room at the time, this crazy drivel provided no end of amusement and bewilderment to my parents, my missus and my boys. What sort of stupidity goes on in our sub conscious? Perhaps I believed I was Wallace from Wallace and Gromit or maybe I was preparing a mental shopping list? Does Barack Obama ever dream of cheese? Who knows…

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A camp statue with a scarf around it's neck, guarding the disused Royal Victoria Pavilion at Ramsgate. What dreams are made of...

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Dream Baby Dream - Neneh Cherry & The Thing

With today's post touching on the idea of dreaming, here is a gorgeous song released last year by Neneh Cherry and The Thing...

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My boys and me went to Aston Villa’s final home game of the season against Chelsea yesterday. A defining feature of Villa’s season has been the applause that has taken place during the nineteenth minute of every match in support of the club captain Stiliyan Petrov, who is suffering from acute Leukaemia and who wore the number nineteen shirt - hence the nineteenth minute (see Daily Image.) For that sixty seconds of each game, the supporters of both teams united in support and recognition of the fact that some things are more important than twenty two men kicking a ball around a piece of grass. I took my boys to watch Villa play against Arsenal at the Emirates Stadium on March 24^th 2012, in what was a nondescript, routine 3-0 win for the Gunners.  What we didn’t know at the time was that this would not only be Stan Petrov’s final game in a Villa shirt but his final game full stop. One moment you are the captain of a Premier League football team, the next your life is changed forever, diagnosed with a potentially fatal, rare form of cancer. As a supporter, you feel close to your team, so when that kind of news breaks, you are shocked by the brutality of life being changed in the blink of an eye - the thought of never knowing what is around the corner. The news had a galvanizing effect on Villa supporters. The nineteenth minute applause grew over time. The first time we experienced it personally, was away at Southampton and was a fairly mild round of applause but a few weeks later against Fulham at Craven Cottage, the applause and emotion was immense, beginning in the nineteenth minute, leading to five minutes of singing Stan’s name and continuing vocal support until half time. Football continually holds a mirror up to society and usually reflects back negativity - this season in the form of racism, police lies and incompetence, homophobia and one human being biting another – so it has been refreshing to see some humanity shine through in football stadia and that a shred of decency still remains, in an age of grossly overpaid, egotistical young football players who become ever more removed from the supporters. It is never pleasant to lose to Chelsea, which is what happened yesterday but the overriding sentiment had to rest with Stiliyan Petrov, whose dignity in the face of unimaginable adversity has been a lesson to us all. After the game, he led the squad around the pitch, with his two kids in tow, on what is now referred to as a lap of appreciation – there is no great honour in not yet being safe from relegation. Almost every supporter remained behind, the Holte End still packed to the rafters, to show their respect, gratitude and admiration to someone who has shown incredible strength, courage and determination. Petrov has always been aware, as a sportsman, of how lucky he is to have received a quick diagnosis and treatment and is now devoting himself to establishing a charity to raise funds and awareness of Leukaemia. I must say, I will miss the nineteenth minute round of applause next season but as Stiliyan says in his final programme notes as captain, “it will be hard to let go but in life everything and everybody must move on.” Too true mate, onwards and upwards…

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This picture was taken at Aston Villa's final home game of the season against Chelsea, during the nineteenth minute, in what became the traditional minute of applause to support Stiliyan Petrov, Villa's club captain, in his battle against accute leukaemia...

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Stevie Wonder - Master Blaster (Jammin')

This track is a tribute to Stiliyan Petrov's wonder goal from sixty yards against Derby County - Master Blaster, geddit? Oh well...

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Unfortunately no tune this evening due to being unable to load youtube. As the Daily Words revolve around Karma, it would have been Karma Police by Radiohead. It will be added to the Spotify play list at the end of the month...

Radiohead - Karma Police

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Yesterday I was visited by the Karma Police as the fickle finger of fate pointed in my direction and chose me to be the recipient of some good fortune. It all began last weekend when I was spammed like a fritter, as some techno trickster hacked into my yahoo account and sent an e-mail, apparently containing a video about the benefits of dieting, to everyone in my address book. Pisser. I haven’t seen the video but being tall, slim and able to eat like a horse, anyone who knows me would be surprised to find me supporting a dieting regime. A few people kindly e-mailed to make me aware that I had been sending what they presumed to be spam mail. This included a message on Thursday morning from a friend who I have worked closely with for many years, “I knew you wouldn’t have sent that,” she commented, and then asked what I was up to. I told her it had been a slow year, then, like a guardian angel, she e mailed me back to let me know that there was a networking event taking place at a bar in town that very evening. I was in. It was the first networking shindig I had ever been to and I took to it like a duck to water and before you knew it, I was flinging my business card around like confetti. A few new contacts have been made which could potentially lead to work. If I hadn’t given a business card to the waiter, I would have had one left over for that other potential client. Oh well. What happened yesterday felt as if the stars had realigned and karma had been served. If my e-mail account hadn’t been spammed, my friend would not have contacted me and I wouldn’t have been out last night meeting new people. You never know what is around the corner…