A Saturday Night Off

This past Sunday, I had to be on location, for a film shoot, at 6:30AM. Because of that, it wasn't possible to do my "Night Waves" radio show, as it finishes at 7AM, and the studio is about 250 miles from the location. After explaining to the Station Manager, he was cool with me taking Saturday night off. After all, I make a hell of a lot more money working on a film, than I do doing radio.
The last time I was "off" on a Saturday, was the Saturday before New Year. Then, my good friends, Tim and Barbara, were visiting, from New York. Even though I was off, I was busy entertaining them, so it wasn't a relaxing time for me. This past Saturday was different. I had nobody to please other than myself. I was up for some fun. I found that Jordan Marsh's band, Blue Shoes, was playing a gig in Essex. I had to hire a car to get to the shoot on Sunday morning, so I picked it up Saturday evening, then set out for Essex. The car hire company gave me a free upgrade, because they were out of the cheap cars, which is what I had reserved. Instead, they gave me a Fiat Bravo and I wasn't complaining. The car was very nice, with a six speed transmission. I tuned in some music on the stereo, then blasted around the M25, to the other side of London.
Jordan was playing at the Eagle and Child, the same pub I had been turned away from, on New Year's Eve. This time, I had no trouble getting in. When I walked in, Jordan had just started his first set. He gave me a nod of acknowledgement, as I walked in. I bought a pint of Strongbow from the bar, then settled to enjoy the show. Jordan plays a nice mix of classic rock, soul, rockabilly, and even takes requests. Women in Essex have quite a reputation and there were several good looking Essex girls, present. In fact, I ended up surrounded. I had two brunettes in front of me and two blondes behind me.
When Jordan finished his second set and started packing up for the night, I walked over for a quick word. He was cordial as ever, even though we were interrupted by one of the brunettes, who was drunk. He told me that he's still not finished the CD he's working on. After saying goodbye, I rejoined the Fiat, out in the car park. With the stereo fired up, I roared back around the M25, to Berkshire and home. It was a fun night out. The only thing that could have made it better is if one of my friends had joined me. If you ever have the chance to see Jordan Marsh perform, grab it. He always gives an entertaining performance. This Saturday, I should be back on the radio, from Midnight, UK time, till 7AM, Sunday. You can listen to me at www.seasideradio.co.uk .

BT Digital Music Awards

Last night, I attended the BT Digital Music Awards. A friend of mine, who works in television, got me a press pass, in exchange for me working as part of her crew. My duties included holding a bag for her, running across the street to buy batteries, and taking some snapshots on a digital camera, when the crew photographer was off, shooting somewhere else. I also had to fetch drinks. On the plus side, I got to drink free all night.
This awards show is less established and wasn't attended by too many A list stars. I got to stand near by, while our correspondents interviewed them. The biggest star of the night had to be Natasha Bedingfield. I was amazed at her figure. She was, by far, the hottest woman at the show. She had a curvy ass that beats Jennifer Lopez's. Natasha's figure was highlighted by a figure hugging mini dress, which showed off every curve, but in a tasteful way. Even one of the women in our crew was amazed at Natasha's figure. I'm not that impressed with her music, but she sure looks great!
Several "Big Brother" former contestants were there. Chantelle Houghton, the winner of last year's "Celebrity Big Brother," attended. She looked great, although overly tanned. My friend interviewed her, but made a slight gaff at the start. My friend started off the interview by calling Chantelle, "Chanelle." Doh! Chanelle was a contestant on this summer's "Big Brother." Needless to say, Chantelle was not pleased. Her eyes flashed and her nostrils flared, but all credit to her, the former Paris Hilton look-alike maintained her composure and merely corrected the error, saying, "My name is Chantelle," through slightly clenched teeth. For me, that was one of the funniest moments of the night.
We were also treated to Nikki Graham, one of the stars of "Big Brother," 2006. From this year's "Big Brother," we met the twins, Sam and Amanda, as well as Charley. The twins didn't do much but pose for photos and giggle. Charley spoke a mile a minute, just like she did on the show. She complained that she had ended up wearing the same dress as the twins. Charley looked better than she ever did on the show. It's the first time I have seen her really look pretty. Her makeup was perfect. Sadly, the tattoo on her right arm detracted from her otherwise classy look.
The second most funny moment of the night, for me, was when Simon Webbe, former member of boy band, Blue, came to the press area, to be interviewed. I happened to be heading to the loo at the same time. We came face to face at the entrance to the press area. Simon immediately stuck out his hand and shook mine. I returned his greeting, politely, then made my way past him to the toilet. He mistook me for someone he needed to talk to. There were a number of newer bands and musicians who I've never heard of. I was interested to learn that members of the major news media didn't know who these people were, either. My friend had equipped us with photos of each act who was attending. While we were covering the red carpet entrance, a TV reporter in front of us kept turning around and asking us who some of the people entering were. Many of the reporters and paparazzi help each other out, while working.
Hoping to start covering these sorts of events for my radio show, I spent part of the evening talking to a photographer for "the Daily Star," and a radio reporter for BBC Radio 6. I was interested n their advice on equipment. In particular, the Radio 6 reporter, who happened to be a woman, discussed recording equipment for recording radio interviews, with me. I told her I was trying to organize equipment for my new radio show. She was very helpful. I also spoke to two women who were covering the event for TalkSport Radio. I mentioned James Max and they seemed to know him. I think one of them said she produces James when he is on TalkSport. I managed to tear myself away in time to catch the last train back to Bracknell. My second night out in London, this week, yet I still had to be at my day job in the morning.

Artist of the Week: Dido

This week, my Artist of the Week is singer/songwriter Dido. Although she hasn't released any new material for about four years, she is reportedly working on a new album. I liked both her albums, so far. Her single, "White Flag," from her second album, "Life For Rent," became a personal anthem for me, in 2003, when it was released months after my divorce was final. The lyrics summed up my feelings about my evil ex-wife, the Black Queen, quite accurately. I don't know how popular she has been in America, since her big commercial break came after I moved to the UK. Obviously, Eminem heard her, because he sampled one of her songs for his single, "Stan," and she also appeared in the video.
I was fascinated to learn that her full name is actually Dido Florian Cloud de Bounevialle Armstrong. No wonder she goes by "Dido," professionally. She's a four time BRIT award winner and has been nominated for a Grammy, as well as for a couple of MTV awards. If you aren't familiar with her music, it's about time you tried it. You can check her out at her official Myspace page: www.myspace.com/dido . I am eagerly awaiting the release of her third album, due out early next year.

Artist of the Week: K.T. Tunstall

This week, my Artist of the Week is K.T. Tunstall. Her second album, "Drastic Fantastic," is due out on general UK release, tomorrow. It should be out in the US by the 18th of September. Recently, the Scottish singer-songwriter caught my ear with her latest single, "Hold On." I noticed it on the music video TV channels, a couple of weeks ago and I liked it immediately. She has also caught my eye, as I have seen billboards around London and the southeast of England, promoting her new album. On these billboards, she strikes a sexy pose with a short, white dress and holding a guitar.
I was interested to learn that K. T.'s birth mother was half Chinese. So was my evil ex-wife, the Black Queen. Could they have been one and the same? Hopefully not. Anyway, K.T. was adopted and still has grown up to have a successful music career. She's an example that being adopted is no excuse not to get on in life. You can check K.T. out on her Myspace, at: www.myspace.com/kttunstall . I wonder what else she has in store for us, on her new album?

Artist of the Week: Robyn

This week, my Artist of the Week is Robyn. Robyn, who's full name is Robin Miriam Carlsson, is a Swedish singer and songwriter. She's not a newcomer to the music scene. Not only is she well known in her home country, she actually had some commercial success in the United States, making it into the top ten of Billboard's Hot 100 chart, in the late 1990s. As the new millennium began, Robyn continued having some European success, but the evolution of her sound caused a reconsideration by the US arm of her record company. 2004 brought a further evolution, to an electro-pop sound. Record company executives reacted badly to the new Robyn sound, so they parted company.
In early 2005, Robyn created her own record label, Konichiwa Records. She released her forth album, which achieved commercial success in Sweden. This year, Robyn has secured her international comeback. Her latest single, "With Every Heartbeat" has reached number one in the UK singles chart. I happen to like the song a lot, as well. You can check her out on her Myspace, at: www.myspace.com/robynmyspace . In particular, American readers pay attention to her latest song, as I don't know if it's getting play in the States.

Artist of the Week: Basheeba

This week, my Artist of the Week is Basheeba. Based in Belgium, this little known group is one of those gems I occasionally find on Myspace. They are apparently composed of three female vocalists, plus one man who does the music. At some point in the past, there seems to have been a fourth female vocalist. There's not a lot of information about them. You can check them out on Myspace, at: www.myspace.co/basheba3 . If you like Britpop and girl groups, you'll like them. The girls look great and the music's catchy. What more needs to be said?

Should I Get An MP3 Player?

Life has hit me with one of those hard to resolve dilemmas. Should I get an MP3 player? As this weekend is a holiday weekend, in Britain, there are loads of sales on at the shops. I saw an ad in the paper for an MP3 player for only £9.95. I had considered buying one before, when they were advertised for £19.95. Now I am glad I waited. Okay, it's a basic model and only holds 12 hours of music, but still it's less than a tenner. Even I can afford that.
When I was driving my car, I didn't think I needed one, as I had the stereo in the car. Now that I am on the bus, I spend a lot more time musicless. Should I hold out for a better model? One that has an FM tuner costs £39. I can't quite bring myself to spend forty quid, when I am saving for a car. Technology gets cheap when you don't have to have the latest thing. All this stuff gets so cheap, if you wait. Still, I don't know if I can be bothered walking round with those little earphones in my ears. What do you think?

Virgin Records Party

Last night, I was on the guest list for Virgin Records Industry Party, at Pangaea, in London. For the last couple of months, I have been trying to do some clubbing, with disastrous results. I stopped doing the club thing back when I was married. My evil ex-wife, the Black Queen, wasn't into clubbing and refused to go with me. As I recall, we only went out to a club once during our marriage and that was for a work night out. Since I have been single again, I have gone a few times, but only to local venues, in or near Bracknell. Sadly, I haven't found any place in the local area that wows me, like big clubs in London, Frankfurt, and New York have, in the past.
Over the past couple of months, I have made several attempts at sticking my toe back into the proverbial club scene water, but each one has been sidetracked, for one reason or another. When I received the invitation to attend the Virgin Records Party, something about it set off a fire in me. A fire of desire. That something was "CD giveaways." I set my mind to the task of going. Trying a few folks to see if anyone would be up for going with me, I had the usual success. Nando couldn't be bothered, despite agreeing, a couple of years ago, that we would go clubbing in London, sometime. Not willing to move his lethargic ass off the sofa for a change, I looked elsewhere. I wasn't surprised that Nando turned me down, but I needed to ask as a matter of politeness. Tom seemed unreachable. I still couldn't confirm if he has gone to France, as planned, or not. Mucky Sarah came the closest to saying yes, but when she heard the party started at 10PM, on a weeknight, she declined. She had to work the next day, but hey, so did I (and I have to be at work a lot earlier than she does!). Finally, I asked TV presenter, Opal Bonfante. It was a long shot, but again, it was a nod to politeness. Opal has never agreed to go anywhere with me, but you never know. It's been so cold in southern England this year, that I thought hell might have finally frozen over.
With Opal's not unexpected decline in hand, I went ahead and RSVPed from myself, alone. Once I set my mind to doing something, I don;t let little bumps in the road stop me. Was the box stopping people from agreeing to go? Who knows, but to hell with the box. For my re-emergence on the London club scene, I decided on my black suit. I matched it up with a white and lavender, striped shirt, but no tie. A couple of squirts of Giorgio Armani's Acqua di Gio (courtesy of a close personal friend) and I was ready to go. Due to the quirks of the local British transport system, I would not be coming home after the party, but taking the first train to Camberley, in the morning, and going direct to work. Because of this, I had to carry my work shoes and shirt in my travel bag. To cut down on bulk, I swapped the black suit trousers for a clean pair of black work trousers. In a dark club, no one would notice that they weren't a perfect match and I would only have to switch shirts, and shoes, for work in the morning.
On my way out the door, I made a side trip to the kitchen and grabbed two slices of pizza for my bag. One would be my dinner, on the bus, while the other was held in reserve, in case I got hungry before I got to work the next day. Opening the front door, I was greeted by a downpour. I had left my favorite, big, black umbrella at work, so I opted for my little, old, beat-up, folding one. It barely protected me and a bit of water was blowing in from the sides, but I would have to do. As I was walking to the bus stop, a route 190 went by. If I had just been five minutes quicker, I could have caught that. The rain and just missing the bus seemed like last ditch attempts by the box to dissuade me, but I was determined. It didn't mater, as there was an inbound 194 due in less than 15 minutes. That would be in plenty of time to get me into Bracknell's town centre to catch the 8:10PM coach to London.
The 8:10 is the last Coach to London on a weeknight. At £4, it's much cheaper than the train. With few passengers, I got my favorite seat, with extra legroom. I tried to get some sleep, as I knew I would be up late, but I was too excited for more than a slight doze. The closer I got to London, the more the funk eminating from the box seemed to lift. Perhaps the box's range was limited. Maybe it could only affect people and events near to its location. Whatever the reason, I felt the best I had felt since the box came into my life. As the coach roared eastbound, along the M4, I snacked on one of my slices of pizza. By the time we were entering the outskirts of London, the rain was abating. Looking north, as we traveled the elevated section of the motorway,just before it ends into the A4, I saw the arch of the new Wembley Stadium, in the distance. Although it wasn't my first time seeing the arch, it was the first time I was able to appreciate it's architectural beauty.
The coach dropped me off at Hyde Park Corner, just before making a turn to the south for it's final destination, Victoria Station. From Hyde Park Corner, it was relatively short work further east, along Piccadilly, into Mayfair. Pangaea is at 85 Piccadilly. I made such good time, I reached number 85 by 9:45. The party didn't start fr another 15 minutes and I didn't want to be the first one there. The club bouncers were just setting up the ropes outside. A little further on, I spotted a Starbucks. I decided to nip into Starbucks for a cold drink and a seat. More misfortune awaited me. Starbucks had let the supply of chilled, sparkling water run out from the refrigerated display. They offered me the choice of a warm bottle (yeah, right!), or a cold bottled of still. I settled for the still, as cold was more important than bubbles. My roving eye spotted a lone, remaining piece of some rich looking, chocolate cake. It was called "Chocolate Decadence," or something like that, and I decided to treat myself. Yum, chocolate! The bloke behind the counter insisted that the last slice of cake is always the best. Armed with cake and water, I plonked myself down at a table and began to enjoy my treat, at leisure. I pulled out a copy of a gossip magazine I had in my bag, to catch up on the latest celebrity gossip. It helped pas the time and slowed my consumption of chocolate. I wanted the pleasure to last as long as possible. Looking to my left, I noticed a group of four girls, dressed for a night out, They were doing the same as I was, killing some time before going to Pangaea.
I managed to use up a half an hour in Starbucks, but they looked like the wanted to close. I left just behind the gang of four and followed them back to Pangaea. There was enough of a gap between us that a girl on her own managed to slip in between us, as we reached the velvet ropes at the door. The bouncers cleared the gang of four, then started speaking to the single girl. She reeked of alcohol already and was having trouble answering a bouncer's questions. While she was fumbling, trying to come up with the name of who's guest list she was on, he decided o have her wait to the side and move on. I guess I looked more coherent. He found my name on the list and then asked if I was on my own. Wincing, I confirmed I was. No need to rub it in, pal. I was admitted immediately. The next step was being frisked by the next bouncer. He also checked my bag but didn't take my last slice of pizza. Once he was satisfied that I didn't pose a risk, I was cleared to proceed. I walked downstairs to the club, proper. It was still early and very few people were there yet. I walked around, looking for the coat check. I wanted to leave my bag there. I spotted the gang of four, then found the check room, on the opposite side of the room from the entrance. That seemed a most unusual place to put the check room. Usually, it's near to the entrance. I paid £2 to check my bag.
Free of my luggage, I started surveying the place. This was my first time at Pangaea, even though I had passed it on several occasions. I was a little disappointed. It was small and had a tiny dance floor. There was an attractive, female DJ, but her choice of music was leaving a lot to be desired. The sound system didn't seem to have enough base. I found a place to sit and waited for more people to arrive. My location, next to the coat check, ended up being advantageous. Every woman who entered ended up coming over to check her coat. I was treated to a show of legs, as it seemed that most of the female guests chose to attire themselves in short dresses. I was really impressed with the beauty of the women that night. I'd say 98 percent of the women in attendance were beautiful. A tall, leggy blond, with a sporty figure and sporty attire to match, walked up to me. As she started to speak, I was a bit surprised. It turned out she was selling massages. I'd heard of this. I remember seeing an ad for people to work giving massages in clubs, last year. She said I could pay whatever amount I thought it was worth, after the massage. I was very tempted, but I figured I'd need to at least give her a fiver. After paying two quid to check my bag, and spending over three quid in Starbucks, I decided I'd better put a stop to the hemorrhaging of my budget. Besides, I'm not into massages. I was just being tempted by the thought of her putting her hands all over me. I declined as sweetly as I could, explaining that I'm not into massages. She took defeat well and told me to let her know if I changed my mind.
As the crowd built up, the music got quite a bit better. The DJ played a number of the current crop of popular dance tracks, although the sound system still sounded a bit flat. Then I thought, "where's the CD give away?" In due course, another attractive woman strolled over, her arms full with a stack of CDs. She offered me one, which I gladly accepted. As she moved on to other patrons, I looked at what I had received. "The Last Trick," by Anja Garbarek. Never heard of it. But then, I suppose that's the point of these events; to introduce lesser known artists and promote stuff. Obviously, the CD was a Virgin Records product. It was a single, so I didn't even manage to get a whole album.
As the night wore on, I had to fight to stay awake. I kept catching myself nodding off. At one point, after 2Am, a bouncer came by and touched me, to see if I was alright. I was fine, up till he touched me. I didn't enjoy that! I much prefer a woman's touch. Although the party was due to last till 3AM, I packed it in at 2:30. The majority of folks had left by then. I caught a night bus to Southbank, then walked to Waterloo Station. I napped while waiting for the 5:05AM train to depart. Once on the train, I changed my shirt and shoes, getting ready to work. Another nap on the train, then again, on the minibus to work, would be all the sleep I would get. It would have been more fun if I had company, but the words of Paul Newman in, "The Color of Money," came to mind: "I'm back!"

Kanye West Concert

I saw Kanye West perform, in London, at a special, invitation only, concert, tonight. If you are a fan of Kanye, I'm sure you would have loved it. I'm not a fan. I am very mild about Kanye. This concert did nothing to win me over to him. If anything, it had the opposite effect.
First, was the wait. It took waiting in queue for an hour beyond when the production team said they would be letting us in, before the audience was finally admitted to the building. Once inside, we had to wait almost two hours more. The wait was longer than the show ended up being. When he did finally take the stage, he was backed up by an all-female orchestra. While that was a nice touch, some idiot decided to dress the orchestra in these hideous dresses, in neon colors. To make matters worse, as if the neon dresses weren't enough, it was decided to put silver face make-up on the girls in the orchestra, so that they all look like they are wearing masks. They ended up looking like clowns. The girls also wore matching, awful hairstyles.
Putting aside the visuals, let's talk about the music. After all, the music is the main reason for attending a concert, right? The lyrics were virtually unintelligible. Kanye seemed to be ovemodulating. I'm not sure whether it was his overmodulating, or the fact that the three women to my left were screaming in my ear, but I couldn't make out the lyrics. What's the point of rap if you can't hear the lyrics? Then, he doesn't even play the one song of his which I like. He paused a couple of times, during the show, to re-shoot this or that. He redid the opening number. It sounded no better the second time. During one such pause, he chastized audience members sitting in the balconies, for not making these ridiculous "diamond" shapes with their hands. He complained that it wouldn't look good on TV, if some sections of the audience weren't doing it. Kanye criticized all the audience for this, except the section where I was standing. He cited us as the ideal. That's because so many of the goofballs around me enthusiastically waved these diamond shapes, even before Kanye had asked for them. They must be fans. Especially one of the women to my left, who screamed out, "marry me!" I don't think we are in any danger of nuptials between them, as she was more endowed with enthusiasm, than beauty. Another thing about the fans which felt annoying, was that so many of them held up mobile camera-phones, to record Kanye performing. They kept waving their cameras back and forth, tracking his movements on stage. What's the point in coming to a live show, then spending the whole show watching the images on your tiny, mobile phone's video display? When I was young, people held lit cigarette lighters aloft, during concerts. Now, these seem to have been replaced by the mobile phone. This sea of waving phones just made it harder to see. I ended up liking the music played while the equipment was being set up, better than the music in the show.
Maybe it's rappers. Maybe rap music is such that it's better to hear it on studio recordings, than to listen to it "live." And yet, I remember playing with an MC, when I was a DJ, and him being great at it. Then, we didn't overmodulate. In any case, when it comes to Kanye, the bulk of his songs ended up sounding like a hash of noise. Also, this was the first concert I can remember where there was no encore. Fans of Kanye will probably accuse me of being too harsh, but I think that was the worst concert I can remember ever witnessing. You can make up your own minds, as Channel 4 will be airing the recording of the show, on 2 September, at 2PM. Looking on the bright side, you might spot me.

Go West Young Man

Over the weekend, I won two tickets to a special, invitation only, concert by Kanye West. The concert was tonight, in London. The only problem with all this was finding someone to use the other ticket. There were difficulties with the usual suspects. A close, personal friend isn't currently interacting with me, so no invite for that person. Hey, if you don't return my calls, how can I invite you anywhere? Besides, that individual doesn't like rap music. Tom was unenthusiastic. He's not particularly fond of rap, either. Plus, he was due to leave for France today. Nando wasn't interested. Jan remains out of the country, in Italy. Tina, is away, visiting her family. Mucky Sarah is getting over being ill. Finally, I tried calling Chef Anthony, Sunday evening. He didn't answer his mobile, but I left a message. He loves Kanye West.
Not having heard back from Anthony, I put the call out, further afield. I posted a notice on Facebook saying I was looking for someone to go. I sent a bulletin on Myspace, to all of my 3,071 "friends." I even set up a chatroom, on the internet, inviting anyone to use the other free ticket. Okay, I probably set up the chatroom too late. I wish I had thought of that earlier. How could it be, in 2007, that I could have a free ticket for a private Kanye West gig and not be able to find anyone to use it?
When I arrived at work, this morning, I went looking for Anthony. It took me moments to run into him. He said he'd seen that he had a missed call from me. I asked him if he'd listened to the message. "No," he said.
"Why didn't you listen to it?" I asked, full of frustration.
"I thought it was you calling to tell me you were on TV, or something," he replied. "I looked on the TV, but I didn't see you."
"Anthony," I said in exasperation, "I won two free tickets to see Kanye West, tonight, in London. I was calling to ask you if you want to go."
"What?" Anthony hadn't seen that coming. "Kanye West? Hell yeah, I want to go." So, it seemed that the problem was solved. Or was it? Chef Anthony has a history of saying he'll do things, sounding very enthusiastic, but later backing out. Sure enough, as the day wore on, he stated coming up with objections. "I left my wallet at home," was his first one.
"Can't you have someone bring it here, to work?" I suggested. I used to be a car salesman, so overcoming objections is my forte. He agreed that would be a solution, but as hours passed, he seemed unable to make that happen. "Why don't you borrow some money from Russell," I said, offering yet another possible solution. "You can pay him back, tomorrow."
"That's not a bad idea," Anthony replied. But when I checked with him, several times, during the remainder of the workday, he hadn't done it. He left work forty-five minutes before me. I told him that if he wants to come, to meet me at Farnborough Main train station before the 4:58 train for London Waterloo leaves. When the train pulled away from the station, there was no sign of him. No one else bothered to call me and take advantage of the other ticket. I walked into the venue, tonight, alone. The concert was recorded for television. I love being in front of cameras. When opportunity knocks, you need to grab hold of it.

Artist of the Week: Kate Nash

This week, I am pleased to select Kate Nash as my Artist of the Week. For those of you who haven't heard yet (which is probably all of you in America), Kate is a singer and songwriter from London, who's a new star in the UK music scene. Her second single, "Foundations," which I have chosen for my profile song for the week, shot to number 2 in the singles chart, even though many commercial stations ignored the song when it was released. I first heard it in my car, on the radio, back in June. I was immediately hooked. Since then, I regularly watch the video on the music channels. Because of the unexpected, meteoric success of "Foundations," Kate's record company, Fiction Records, brought forward the release date of her debut album, "Made of Bricks," to August 6th. Since release, her album has reached number one on the UK albums chart.
"Foundations" gives the impressions of a young woman stuck in a bad relationship. I think the lyrics are such that any woman can relate to them. I find her distinctive London accent endearing, although some British women who are not Londoners have complained about it. I think it suits her and makes her songs sound more genuine. Guys, the lyrics of "Foundations" give you a clear blueprint of how NOT to act with women. Learn from them. You can check out Kate on Myspace, at: http://www.myspace.com/katenashmusic . Those of you in America, check this girl out and get your radio stations to play her. I am expecting more good stuff from her in the future.

The Other Marsh

This past Saturday, I went to Essex to see Jordan Marsh perform, live. Jordan is Jodie Marsh's brother and I originally met him while auditioning for Jodie's reality TV show. When I read Jodie's autobiography, "Keeping It Real," I discovered that her brother is a musician. After our initial meeting, I added him as a "friend" on Myspace. It was on Myspace that I first got to sample his musical talents and, although I wasn't expecting much, I was impressed. Here in England, everybody's heard of Jodie Marsh, but her brother is not so well known yet. It turns out he's the hidden gem in the Marsh family.
All of sister Jodie's talent in looks and the wearing of scintillating, sexy outfits, Jordon equals in musical ability. He sings and plays keyboards. Soul, rockabilly, R & B, and funk are the styles of music Mr. Marsh enjoys and he does them justice. As good as his recordings sound on Myspace, he was ten times better in person. Jordan played the Bull pub, in Brentwood, a regular venue for him. Over the years I have lived in England, I have seen a number of pub bands, but few put on as musically competent a show as I enjoyed on Saturday. The crowd were entertained by a repertoire of covers on famous songs by the likes of Stevie Wonder, Average White Band, Curtis Mayfield, Elvis Presley, and Little Richard, amongst others. All of this and the admission price was absolutely free.
Sadly, Jordan's regular band mates weren't available, so he played with a stand-in drummer. He also had a sax contribution by the drummer's wife. There's something cool about female sax players. It was also unfortunate that we didn't get to hear any of Jordan's original material. A promised CD is on the way. Jordan has a number of gigs lined up, primarily in Essex, for the rest of the year. There is at least one gig in London, as well. If you get the chance to see him perform, I recommend you grab it. Jordan Marsh gives you real music, with real instruments, not the artificial sound of synthesized percussion that plagues a number of pop acts these days. You can check him out on Myspace, at: http://www.myspace.com/jordanandthesection . I predict that he will shine as a star in his own right, rather than remain in the shadows of his sister. I expect that she is very proud of him.

Artist of the Week: Manic Street Preachers

This week, my Artist of the Week is: Manic Street Preachers. I saw them perform live during my recent attendance at the taping of "The Friday Night Project" (see, "The Friday Night Project," 17 July, 2007). They performed their second single, "Autumn Song," from their latest album, "Send Away the Tigers." I like the song, so here they are. The delay was due to the time it took to acquire them as "friends" on Myspace. I first got into the Manics back in 1998, when they had their first number one single, "If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next." The band are from Wales, which is nice. I have a soft spot for Wales, as my second fiancee was from there and I have spent a lot of time visiting Wales. Sadly, the Manics are socialists, advocates of a misinformed economic policy. Ironically, they are enjoying the success of capitalism. So long as they keep making good music, I suppose we can ignore their political views. You can check them out at their Myspace page: http://www.myspace.com/manics .

A Renewal of Faith

Several weeks ago, I was driving to a pub on a Friday night, scanning radio stations for some enjoyable music. Obviously, this was when my car was still running. All of the sudden, I found this great electronic music, at the upper end of the dial. I think it was 107.3 FM. The music was drum 'n base style and perfect for driving fast on the motorway. I stayed tuned in to the station the whole way. The DJ calls herself, Lady Hektik, and she said she would send anyone a free CD of her music, if one would just send a text with one's name and address. A free CD? Now she was really playing my song.
As I was driving, I typed out the text into my mobile phone. It was all ready to go, I just needed the number to send it to. Quickly she rattled through the number, but I only managed to get the first four digits. As I was driving, I couldn't write it down. I arrived at the pub, still waiting for her to repeat the number again. I noticed there were no commercial breaks on the station. Eventually, I figured out why. It was a pirate station. No, not a station that only plays old sea shanties. An unlicensed radio station, operating "illegally." I don't remember ever hearing any pirate stations, back in America. I think the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) clamps down on them rather swiftly, there. Here in Britain, it seems that the "authorities" are much less effective at stamping out such things.
I sat in the pub parking lot, with my mobile poised in my hand, waiting for Lady Hektik to give me the vital, missing numbers. At risk was me missing last call. Finally, she ran through the number again. I sent my text off into the night, then scrambled into the pub. Weeks went by and no CD arrived. I had no reply text, nor any other indication that my request had been received. Eventually, I resigned myself to the conclusion that Lady Hektik was a bit too hectic to come through with my promised, free CD. Shrugging my shoulders, I chalked the whole thing up to experience. I guess pirate radio DJs don't live up to "the code," like pirates do in "Pirates of the Caribbean."
Then one Saturday, I came downstairs in the morning to find an envelope, addressed to me, that had come through the post, sitting on the kitchen table, with the rest of the mail. Hitler's Nephew must have put the mail there before he left the house that morning. I picked up the strange envelope and noticed that "do not bend" was written on the outside. Intrigued, I opened it. I had completely forgotten about my late night text to Lady Hektik. Well shiver me timbers! To my surprise, the envelope contained my long awaited, free CD. Lady Hektik was as good as her word. I popped the CD into my DVD player and immediately began listening to it. The music wasn't quite as good as I remembered, but it was enjoyable. Besides, the price was great. Events like this renew my faith in humanity. Lady Hektik, if you're out there somewhere, respect!

Artist of the Week: Amy Winehouse

For a long time, I resisted being swept up in the popular frenzy over Amy Winehouse. The songs I heard by her were okay, but, to me, didn't seem to justify the acclaim she was receiving. Being the individualist that I am, I steadfastly refused to jump on the bandwagon. Finally, I have heard a single by Amy which I really like. That single is, "Tears Dry on Their Own" and it's the reason why this week, my Artist of the Week is Amy Winehouse. Unfortunately, "Tears" isn't available for adding on Amy's Myspace page, so I have selected her most successful UK hit, "Rehab," as my sample for her. You can listen to a sample of "Tears Dry on Their Own" on Amy's Myspace page, at: http://www.myspace.com/amywinehouse .
"Tears" is her most recent single from Amy's second album, "Back to Black." Amy won Best British Female Artist at the 2007 BRIT Awards and due to her recent commercial success, it's hard to imagine that any of you don't know who she is. If you haven't particularly enjoyed her work in the past, try listening to "Tears Dry on Their Own." You might find it wins you over.

Artist of the Week: Mutya Buena

This week, my Artist of the Week is Mutya Buena. The second single from the former Sugababe's first solo album is released tomorrow, Called "Song 4 Mutya," it was done with Grove Armada. Ranked as number one in pre-release charts, the song is set to be another success story for Mutya's solo career. She was always my favorite Sugababe. I will probably always have a soft spot in my heart for the lovely singer. A sample of the song is playing, this week, on my Myspace profile. Check out Mutya on her Myspace profile, at: http://www.myspace.com/mutya1 .

Artist of the Week: Rihanna

This week, my Artist of the Week is Rihanna...again. This time, it's more like Artist of the half-week, as I am late posting this article. I have been so busy that it's been hard to keep up with my blog schedule. I do apologize. Between the extra time riding on public transportation takes and the fact that my social life is becoming more busy, there just aren't enough hours in the day. I selected Rihanna again in honor of her having the UK number 1 single for the ninth week in a row and because it was quicker than shifting through all the artists who are eligible (that's becoming quite a task, now). Besides, since she had the honor before, recently, it's not so bad that she will only get a half week. Anyway, Rihanna is still beautiful, with amazing eyes and legs. She still has a hit song and you can still check her out at: http://www.myspace.com/rihanna .

Artist of the Week: Maritri

This week, I was feeling a bit jazzy when I was selecting my Artist of the Week. I discovered a talented woman on Myspace and decided to honor her as my Artist of the Week. I present to you, Maritri. Born in Southern California, Maritri studied at Fisk University and at Howard, before moving to New York. As well as playing piano, guitar, and cello, this lady has a soothing singing style which merits commercial success. She has already released a couple of EPs and although unsigned, is working on a new record. You can check her out on Myspace, at: www.myspace.com/maritrimusic . Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the lovely Maritri.

Spicetastic!

It's finally happened! Today, after ages of rumors and denials, the Spice Girls have announced that they are getting back together. Girl Power is being recycled, although the world tour is more likely to add CO2 to the atmosphere, rather than reduce any. They are also planning to release a greatest hits album in time for Christmas. That would be a definite buy, for me. The Fab Five are one of the most successful British groups ever. They pretty much invented the girl group sub-genre of Britpop,which has led to such current successes as Sugababes and Girls Aloud. In fact, I will find it interesting to see how the Spice Girls do now, faced with the competition from the newer groups. This year, we were treated to a single with Girls Aloud and Sugababes, for Comic relief. Imagine a single with the Spice Girls and Girls Aloud. I am so pleased to have the Spices back that I may even go to see them during their tour. After all, they are spicetastic!

Artist of the Week: Rihanna

This week, my Artist of the Week is Rihanna. I was motivated by her current hit single, "Umbrella," which seemed appropriate, as it rained all weekend, here. I was mildly into her previous work, but "Umbrella" has won me over. I watched the video a couple of times, this weekend. It's the first single from her latest album, "Good Girl Gone Bad." The album was released earlier this month, on June 5th. Born in Barbados, her full name is Robyn Rihanna Fenty. She''s never told me why she calls herself simply Rihanna, professionally, instead of Robyn Fenty. Not only musically successful, Rihanna is a beauty as well. Gillette recently named her Venus Breeze Celebrity Legs of a Goddess for 2007 and she is rumored to have insured her legs $1,000,000. If she needs help shaving them, I'm available. You can check her out on Myspace at: http://www.myspace.com/rihanna .