Haven't had time to post last few days as I've been busy getting ready for End Of The Road Festival tomorrow. All packing done, just need to fill up with petrol, last minute visit to Morrisons pick up my stuff (lots) and off we pop.
I wouldn't normally be so well organised but I want to get down early to see Among Brothers at 6PM in the Tipi Tent. Even with an early start it is likely to be a close call by the time I've put my tent up/unpacked etc.
Have given all the bands barring last minute drop outs at least a cursory play and have narrowed it down 3 must sees. Long time Goffa From The Block faves, Tinariwen, Slow down Molasses and The Walkmen. Lots more to see as well with further liasons with Allo Darlin', Caitlin Rose and the (hopefully) rejuvenated Beth Jeans Houghton. Amongst others also looking forward to the bonkers looking Cambodian Space Project and the not so bonkers looking Secret Sisters (swoon).
So many bands..... beautiful setting. Don't want to appear a wuss but all I need is for it to stay dry and my tent not to get burgled!
Cheers
Wednesday 31 August 2011
Thursday 25 August 2011
Snatched Out Of The Jaws Of Defeat
Alas the eBay think didn't come off. He might have been a genuine seller but there was just something fishy about it all. He was just a bit too evasive for me and made excuses why I couldn't pick the ticket up from him. It went for £206 anyway, a bit too much even for such a wealthy man as I.
However, thanks to seemingly reliable online selling agent Viagogo and only £30 over the odds, I'll see those who care to join me at Larmer Tree Gardens on 1 September 2011. Now the anxious wait for the ticket to arrive but it looks like there's going to be a happy ending to this chapter!
However, thanks to seemingly reliable online selling agent Viagogo and only £30 over the odds, I'll see those who care to join me at Larmer Tree Gardens on 1 September 2011. Now the anxious wait for the ticket to arrive but it looks like there's going to be a happy ending to this chapter!
Wednesday 24 August 2011
My End Of The Road
It's not looking good to be honest. Not sure whether I mentioned here but I've faffed up big time this year. I waited too long to but my ticket and they sold out (at the end of June I think) and for the last month I've been looking on The Ticket Trust site for any returns to no avail and now I'm looking on eBay. I'm actually winning an auction at the moment that finishes late afternoon tomorrow so if you're doing nothing (Thursday) at 5.30 in the afternoon pour yourself a glass of wine and tune into eBay to most likely see me get outbid at the last minute if not before.
I had plenty of irons in the fire but not many are left in there and if I don't manage to get hold of a ticket by Monday at the latest I'm going to have to accept defeat. It will be a real shame because although I'll be going on my own again I know quite a few people that are going. There's a crew of 6 going from our very own Westgarth Club, Barnard Castle exile Richard, who I met last there last year, and a friend of Sylvia's called Graham who I met at the Stockton Festival.
Talking of the Stockton Festival or Weekender it all turned out alright in the end. The weather was a bit bad on the Saturday but it was ok and plenty of people turned out which to be honest was great.
Highlights? I enjoyed Django Django, retro pop stars Cast and the wonderful and wacky Jack Daniels swigging siblings Kitty Daisy and Lewis.
Biggest disappointment was Saint Saviour who I was really looking forward to seeing after her performance in the Sound It Out documentary. To be fair she really got the arse end of the dreary weather and she was just like the weather. Of the big guns Newton Faulkner just came across as a mixture between bonkers posh chef Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and bonkers experimental chef Heston Blumenthal., nice touch coming on with a mug of tea though but. Not so good touch with finishing with solo version of Bohemian Rhapsody. Just because it's clever doesn't make it good in my book.
I wasn't impressed by Seasick Steve's decision to keep repeating the same song and left to catch the last bus home after about 25 minutes (seemed longer) of his set. He did seem like a bloody good bloke though and I'd like to say something nice about Maximo Park but I left their set early as well.
The presictable highlight of the week-end was The Kids Are Solid Gold After Show Party at The Georgian Theatre where we treated to a wonderful late night by current favourites Washington Irving. If you haven't seen or heard them you must (both) and a cheeky little Leeds (the acceptable face of) rock'n'roll) band, Bear Driver. You can listen and even obtain a couple of freebies here.
I'll post some photos tomorrow.
I had plenty of irons in the fire but not many are left in there and if I don't manage to get hold of a ticket by Monday at the latest I'm going to have to accept defeat. It will be a real shame because although I'll be going on my own again I know quite a few people that are going. There's a crew of 6 going from our very own Westgarth Club, Barnard Castle exile Richard, who I met last there last year, and a friend of Sylvia's called Graham who I met at the Stockton Festival.
Talking of the Stockton Festival or Weekender it all turned out alright in the end. The weather was a bit bad on the Saturday but it was ok and plenty of people turned out which to be honest was great.
Highlights? I enjoyed Django Django, retro pop stars Cast and the wonderful and wacky Jack Daniels swigging siblings Kitty Daisy and Lewis.
Biggest disappointment was Saint Saviour who I was really looking forward to seeing after her performance in the Sound It Out documentary. To be fair she really got the arse end of the dreary weather and she was just like the weather. Of the big guns Newton Faulkner just came across as a mixture between bonkers posh chef Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and bonkers experimental chef Heston Blumenthal., nice touch coming on with a mug of tea though but. Not so good touch with finishing with solo version of Bohemian Rhapsody. Just because it's clever doesn't make it good in my book.
I wasn't impressed by Seasick Steve's decision to keep repeating the same song and left to catch the last bus home after about 25 minutes (seemed longer) of his set. He did seem like a bloody good bloke though and I'd like to say something nice about Maximo Park but I left their set early as well.
The presictable highlight of the week-end was The Kids Are Solid Gold After Show Party at The Georgian Theatre where we treated to a wonderful late night by current favourites Washington Irving. If you haven't seen or heard them you must (both) and a cheeky little Leeds (the acceptable face of) rock'n'roll) band, Bear Driver. You can listen and even obtain a couple of freebies here.
I'll post some photos tomorrow.
Where Have The Last 2 Weeks Gone?
My life continues to pass me by and my promised posts have failed to materialise yet again.
Got a bit of free time tomorrow night so I'm going to try and sum up what I've been up to since I last posted,
You'll be surprised to hear that I'm far from happy at work again. Our Lord Jesus Chris must have put me on this earth to do something more fulfilling than work in the tax office, currently for 32 hours a week, for the last 31 years and counting. People complain a lot about their job at work (though not I) but frankly I'm just more embarrassed and it's got me thinking. Years ago (about 30) I didn't like to admit where I worked so when strangers used to ask me where I worked, I just lied. I might start doing it again. That doesn't make me a bad person does it?
At least we have the Internet at work now and I generally have a browse through the newspapers at lunch-time. Today I was happily reading about David Beckham going bald and Rooney's hair transplant turning grey when a colleague looked over my shoulder gently mocked my choice of reading material asking if that was the most important thing going on in the world.
That was me told..... Apart from, they're actually pretty relevant to me.
Sure Beckham and Rooney have their millions and I may be about 10 years older than Beckham and 15 years older than Rooney but I played football tonight and they're going grey and bald just like me!
Got a bit of free time tomorrow night so I'm going to try and sum up what I've been up to since I last posted,
You'll be surprised to hear that I'm far from happy at work again. Our Lord Jesus Chris must have put me on this earth to do something more fulfilling than work in the tax office, currently for 32 hours a week, for the last 31 years and counting. People complain a lot about their job at work (though not I) but frankly I'm just more embarrassed and it's got me thinking. Years ago (about 30) I didn't like to admit where I worked so when strangers used to ask me where I worked, I just lied. I might start doing it again. That doesn't make me a bad person does it?
At least we have the Internet at work now and I generally have a browse through the newspapers at lunch-time. Today I was happily reading about David Beckham going bald and Rooney's hair transplant turning grey when a colleague looked over my shoulder gently mocked my choice of reading material asking if that was the most important thing going on in the world.
That was me told..... Apart from, they're actually pretty relevant to me.
Sure Beckham and Rooney have their millions and I may be about 10 years older than Beckham and 15 years older than Rooney but I played football tonight and they're going grey and bald just like me!
Saturday 6 August 2011
Waiting For The Rain to Stop
So much for the reasonable weather forecast. Yesterday great, review later. In mean time if there's any justice in the world this will be summer number 1. Of course there is no justice so we will all have to be content in the knowledge that we just know much better.
Wednesday 3 August 2011
One more day to go and then 10 days off work. Going to The Sessions at Dr Brown's tomorrow night, I've got my ticket for The Stockton Weekender for Friday and Saturday, Robin Hoods Bay is booked for Sunday, Monday and Tuesday and when I return Ian and his family will be home.
Don't like to wish my life away but roll on 5PM tomorrow.
Hope you all gave Justin Townes Earle a go last night. Bloody marvellous and for those who either liked it, weren't keen or just didn't bother here's another one. This time a cover version of The Replacements Can't Hardly Wait.
Justin Townes Earle
Virtually everybody who knows me, knows about my love for Steve Earle but his son Justin Townes is coming up on the rails. I've seen him twice this year and apart from being the most impressive guitarist I've ever seen (my criteria) he's also currently pretty much the best white singer around.
A troubled young man and a wonderful talent (how often do we hear those phrases together). Sadly, by the look of him last week unless he starts taking more care of himself we could soon be talking about him in the past tense.
Listen to this beautiful version of Mama's Eyes and weep.
A troubled young man and a wonderful talent (how often do we hear those phrases together). Sadly, by the look of him last week unless he starts taking more care of himself we could soon be talking about him in the past tense.
Listen to this beautiful version of Mama's Eyes and weep.
Tuesday 2 August 2011
A Footballer's Lament
Felt like a long day at work today although it wasn't particularly. An early start and an early (for me) finish and then played football at Goals. These are halcyon days in the twilight days of my football career. I now cherish every game I play.
From as early as I can remember, like every other boy in Berwick Hills I wanted and genuinely expected to become a professional footballer and like every other old man I now remember being very good. I was the best player in my age group in our area which seemed to matter at the time but looking back it was probably only out of about 6 kids.
So what went wrong? I was a regular in the Ladgate Junior School team, right wing but I never made any impact at my senior school, Springfield. I just moved further and further down the pecking order. Our team was really crap as well.
I still played over the field with my mates but as the years went by I suspected it just wasn't going to happen. By fifth year seniors people started to realise I wasn't a bad player. I could have told them that in first year but they weren't interested in listening to me then and by fifth year I wasn't interested in what they thought. Besides, I didn't even own a pair of football boots and I had paper round so I couldn't go to football practice anyway.
I started work age 17 and started playing 5-a-side for fun and in many competitive leagues. I made a name for myself albeit at my lowly level as a hard working grafter whose play went for the sublime to the ridiculous often in the same game. I played pretty much 2 or 3 times a week solid until recent years and I never got sick of playing. I didn't have to think about keeping fit because football did it for me.
I even had the occasional 11-a-side for the office although in truth I only played because we got time off work. I never ever got used to playing 11-side, the pitch is just too big for 22 players!
At the age of 35 I reached the pinnacle of my football career when inexplicably I was asked to play for the Civil Service team in the Langbargh League first division, an 11 a-side league. It was a really good standard with loads of Northern League players filling their boots. Talking of which I even bought a new pair. There were loads of nutters just using it as an excuse to go out and maim people with little chance of going to jail, most of the time I was scared shitless.
After a couple of months I came to my senses after seeing our goalkeeper chase the referee from South Bank St Peters ground after being sent off. Enough was enough and I think I packed in just in time before people realised I was out of my depth (actually looking back I doubt if that last bit is true).
And here I am now, still playing 15 years later. My competitive days are probably over (not sure many of opponents would agree with that mind) but within my arena I still play as hard as I possibly can.
We won tonight as well. In the tropical heat of Teesside my team won 7-1 (I scored our first and last goals) and apart from the mighty Kev Wall I think the next youngest player on the pitch will have been over 10 years younger than me. I didn't even have a spell in goal which was probably why I crawled off the pitch.
Hail playing football, it still beats pretty much anything else in life.
From as early as I can remember, like every other boy in Berwick Hills I wanted and genuinely expected to become a professional footballer and like every other old man I now remember being very good. I was the best player in my age group in our area which seemed to matter at the time but looking back it was probably only out of about 6 kids.
So what went wrong? I was a regular in the Ladgate Junior School team, right wing but I never made any impact at my senior school, Springfield. I just moved further and further down the pecking order. Our team was really crap as well.
I still played over the field with my mates but as the years went by I suspected it just wasn't going to happen. By fifth year seniors people started to realise I wasn't a bad player. I could have told them that in first year but they weren't interested in listening to me then and by fifth year I wasn't interested in what they thought. Besides, I didn't even own a pair of football boots and I had paper round so I couldn't go to football practice anyway.
I started work age 17 and started playing 5-a-side for fun and in many competitive leagues. I made a name for myself albeit at my lowly level as a hard working grafter whose play went for the sublime to the ridiculous often in the same game. I played pretty much 2 or 3 times a week solid until recent years and I never got sick of playing. I didn't have to think about keeping fit because football did it for me.
I even had the occasional 11-a-side for the office although in truth I only played because we got time off work. I never ever got used to playing 11-side, the pitch is just too big for 22 players!
At the age of 35 I reached the pinnacle of my football career when inexplicably I was asked to play for the Civil Service team in the Langbargh League first division, an 11 a-side league. It was a really good standard with loads of Northern League players filling their boots. Talking of which I even bought a new pair. There were loads of nutters just using it as an excuse to go out and maim people with little chance of going to jail, most of the time I was scared shitless.
After a couple of months I came to my senses after seeing our goalkeeper chase the referee from South Bank St Peters ground after being sent off. Enough was enough and I think I packed in just in time before people realised I was out of my depth (actually looking back I doubt if that last bit is true).
And here I am now, still playing 15 years later. My competitive days are probably over (not sure many of opponents would agree with that mind) but within my arena I still play as hard as I possibly can.
We won tonight as well. In the tropical heat of Teesside my team won 7-1 (I scored our first and last goals) and apart from the mighty Kev Wall I think the next youngest player on the pitch will have been over 10 years younger than me. I didn't even have a spell in goal which was probably why I crawled off the pitch.
Hail playing football, it still beats pretty much anything else in life.
Monday 1 August 2011
CH R.I.P.
Switched BBC News on tonight just in time for Look North and was surprised to see the Yorkshire rather than the North East version come on. It turns out North East comrades are on strike in protest of compulsory redundancies at the BBC unlike the scabs from Yorkshire. There may be another reason but I'm going to show solidarity with those taking industrial action by not watching the BBC news or logging on to the wonderful BBC web-site for the evening.
And that's as whimsical as I'm going to get tonight. Received more terrible news today at work today. Another associate/work friend was taken from us at the week-end. Chris Hoggarth, 4o years old died of a heart attack. What can I say, that 's 3 in under 2 years (see earlier obituaries at Goffa's Place). Uncannily they were all really close friends of each other.
Chris and I were quite good pals at one time as well, sharing a love for music and more precisely we were fellow consumers of music. He was one of only 2 people I knew who bought more CD's than I do/did. In his time Chris was an expert wheeler/dealer on eBay and latterly a record fair dealer. An early unconfirmed story is that he was doing a record fair the day he died at Whitby.
The last conversation I had with him was a few weeks ago about the valuation of my local punk singles (see earlier post).
I remember him treating me to a Stiff Little Fingers concert at Middlesbrough Town Hall a few years ago as part of a deal in which I gave him a CD back that he'd agreed to sell to somebody else. He didn't have to bother but he insisted. He was a dangerous party animal when an opportunity arose, and I've ended up in a few states over the years because of him. The lesser said on that the better. We've all got memories of Hoggy, some great, some bad ,some atrocious to be honest but never average.
Chris leaves his wife Debbie, who also works in our office and a 3 year old daughter.
Thought I'd put a song on for him. We share a love of Neil Young and Steve Earle and we both obviously liked SLF but I decided this was more appropriate. Cheers big fellar, this one's for you.
And that's as whimsical as I'm going to get tonight. Received more terrible news today at work today. Another associate/work friend was taken from us at the week-end. Chris Hoggarth, 4o years old died of a heart attack. What can I say, that 's 3 in under 2 years (see earlier obituaries at Goffa's Place). Uncannily they were all really close friends of each other.
Chris and I were quite good pals at one time as well, sharing a love for music and more precisely we were fellow consumers of music. He was one of only 2 people I knew who bought more CD's than I do/did. In his time Chris was an expert wheeler/dealer on eBay and latterly a record fair dealer. An early unconfirmed story is that he was doing a record fair the day he died at Whitby.
The last conversation I had with him was a few weeks ago about the valuation of my local punk singles (see earlier post).
I remember him treating me to a Stiff Little Fingers concert at Middlesbrough Town Hall a few years ago as part of a deal in which I gave him a CD back that he'd agreed to sell to somebody else. He didn't have to bother but he insisted. He was a dangerous party animal when an opportunity arose, and I've ended up in a few states over the years because of him. The lesser said on that the better. We've all got memories of Hoggy, some great, some bad ,some atrocious to be honest but never average.
Chris leaves his wife Debbie, who also works in our office and a 3 year old daughter.
Thought I'd put a song on for him. We share a love of Neil Young and Steve Earle and we both obviously liked SLF but I decided this was more appropriate. Cheers big fellar, this one's for you.
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