The mould has been broken, the dominant aspect of Country music in its own backyard taken apart, its historical birthplace, has been, if not smashed, then certainly demolished brick by brick, blade of grass by white picket fence and tales of the homely and beautiful swept aside. It is the mould set out by the American Country genre to which The Shires, Chrissie Rhodes and Ben Earle, have become quite rightly known as the band in which sit up, take notice of and toast as the modern day British saviours of a genre that was wobbling under its own weight across the pond.
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Constable’s Dark Heart.
There is a dark heart
that beats
in your shadows,
double time, occasionally
skipping
and the pulse
oozing a venom
that does much to remove any trace
of humour, sarcasm or the fine
art of gilded laughing;
I despair at the thought
of the Constable
and the modern Haywain
sitting in the bleached over
life dictated by
the divine and the blessed
hand shakes
in Time,
through Time
and across the backs
of those who know nothing more
than veneration.
Nth Ascension, In Fine Initium. Album Review.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *
Progressive Rock in all its glory, all its different shades of colour and often praise worthy offerings, is thankfully still able to command an interest of immense proportions, the old guard with their lyrical genius, of the use of the English language and their seemingly inexhaustible supply of random time signatures, they never truly went away. They were joined when the music world needed them most, by the new breed, the conquerors of the new century and in all honesty the Time has just swept by in an orgy of Progressive Heaven.
Film First, React Later.
Static,
camera in hand, mobile conditioned,
we have all become directors,
producers and stars of our own bubble
reality, too much to say,
we film first for the fascination
of the audience
and the ethereal likes, the thumbs
up and the oh my gosh that
is so cute…
we film first and react later.
I half expect one day
to unbelievingly witness several
different angles, the Blu-Ray
Director’s Cut edition
with bonus features and condescending
commentary supplied by a man in a beret,
Aynsley Lister, Eyes Wide Open. Album Review.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10
The dawn of a new day, the burst of sunlight upon your face and the aroma of a rose bush hanging in the air is nothing if you don’t face the moment with appreciation, with your senses unlocked to the possibility of calm and joy; from your mind welcoming the new sensation, through to ears receptive of the new storm to the Eyes Wide Open in belief, the dawn of new things is there for the taking.
Dana And Susan Robinson, The Angel’s Share. Album Review.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
The Devil may always take his due but the music will always belong to a higher authority when it comes to the muse and the sound of the joy that comes from within, The Angel’s Share will always be one that gets the most attention.
Hancock’s Half Hour, The Lost Sitcoms. The New Neighbour, Television Review.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
Cast: Kevin McNally, Katy Wix, Kevin Eldon, Robin Sebastian, John Culshaw, Robert Jack.
The beauty, pathos and reflection of Ray Galton and Alan Simpson’s writing can be seen fully in two of Britain’s greatest ever sitcoms, Hancock’s Half Hour and Steptoe and Son, both written with consideration and absolute wit, performed by comedic geniuses and with the knowledge that even after 60 years in the case of Hancock’s Half Hour, the words and situations are timeless, that no matter how much we move on in society, we still are products of the post Second World War generation.
A Damned Wish.
I wish
I could sit across
the table from myself
and look at the shell,
the bundle of broken nerves
and the uneasy anxiety, directly, squarely
in the blue eyes, those eyes
that have seen too much
and tell me
to let go, to damn myself
for my annoyance, for not having
the spirit to tell some
to go to Hell for their mistakes
and revelling too much in mine;
stupid boy, no answer
from your sallow lips and misty
eyed memories, holding back tears
CRAZY PAVING!
Crazy paving, I’m cracking up
Stone cladding you ain’t so tuff
Cement ponds in Netherley hills
Concrete overcoats for unpaid bills
Crazy paving I’m walking over you
Laying down with the hardcore crew
Stone taxi I’m flagging you down
Take me to Mr. Flintstone in Bedrock Town
Crazy paving I’m cracking up over you
With your concrete mixer stir the stew
You’re out of plumb lines are not so true
Is you’re circle coloured blue
Crazy paving you’re set in your concrete ways
You’re going off in sedimentary clays
Crystal Grief.
What have we learnt? Having lost all those
mothers and fathers – innocent bystanders –
to someone else’s misconceptions,
the news is still bleak. What have we really learnt?
Saddam had something, somewhere, maybe;
flames spread easily inside a tinder box;
David Kelly liked to go for walks;
the prayers of millions often go unanswered
but, of course, God bless America;
everyone is now a qualified chemist.
Conclusion: jet fuel can’t melt steel beams.
45-minute document airily
proves the dangers of information –
loose accuracy readily changes minds.