Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
Love is a very strange beast, we think back with fondness at those that have taken us for granted, we adore the rose tinted glasses we wear when we think of those that have let us down and we despair at the thought of those that we have left in search perhaps of a greener field or those that left because they could not bear us; modern love is all the rage but Past Loves are the ghosts that spur us on and define our actions in the present.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
It was a tag of derision, playful perhaps, but always one covered in the sentiment of dominance, of authority and a sense of the supreme, to be called short stuff may have been the dread of the day and led to the thought of one day you would show them just what short stuff meant. Now to be thought of being short stuff, it could lead to the person being thanked, congratulated on knowing the difference between good music and music that dominates, that has that keen eye for authority, one that is shrouded in the midst of power and waves of control; it is the stuff that makes up the Big Blue and one that has the upper hand when it comes to covering the classic of the day.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
A feast is what you make it of it, it is not essential to be a 20 foot table groaning under the weight of sugar laden titbits, it is not a requirement for it to be whimpering with bowed legs and deformed curved middle as steaming hot pies, sides of mutton and inedible quiche adorns every square inch not taken up by raised eye brows and Watney’s Party 7 keg. A feast is no less a banquet for having the ability to rein back in the over exposed and indulgent to a point where you feel sated just by having lived in the moment, by taking in the luxury of the simple and honest fare.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
There comes a time in every performer’s career when it must step out of the long and gracious shadow that is Jimi Hendrix and strike a chord and a sense of wisdom of their own; it is never to do down the late great man but rather to suggest that the power of such men and women in the subconscious of music lovers should never should not hold back the ability and prowess of those following up behind. Everybody deserves to be heard, to have their words heeded or enjoyed and everybody, even in a world rapidly approaching eight Billion souls, should be able to say without impunity Know My Name.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
Cast: Seema Bowri, Cavan Clarke, Laure Elphinstone, Adam Ewan, Penny Layden, Stuart McQuarrie, Christine Patterson.
Our voice is important, our opinions even more so and yet we decry others without even understanding them, without taking the time to truly listen without interrupting to what they are saying; at times it can seem like we have never gone past the ethics of the playground, whoever shouts loudest wins the argument. It is one that can be seen to have divided the nation, in some ways irrevocably, for the long foreseeable future as we continue to discuss the almost senseless act of offering a hopeful reasoned debate on the expectation of Britain’s role in the European Union, its position of a once in a lifetime vote of in or out.
The taxi had ground to a halt
somewhere down the Kirkdale Road,
hurrying home now in jeopardy, now a part
of the routine
of travelling and being ill
as bones shook to death,
out of the corner of my eye,
I saw a young lad, no more than eight
and small, Gerard sized, packing a wallop
with a ball against his parents’
wall and no doubt making the vase,
brought as a present by an aunt with no taste,
all kaleidoscope and narrow lip,
wobble on a hastily put up shelf.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
Never let anyone tell you otherwise, but to sit back in silence and reflect upon life, upon a suitable answer, is not a waste of time, it is not unproductive and it is certainly a finer use of time than shooting from the hip and causing destruction, upset and even conflict. Reflection, taking time out to see beyond your own view point is the antipathies to the idealist, it requires restraint and not the knee jerk reaction, it ask for definition, not a slogan and it is one that Amsterdam band My Baby extol in their album Prehistoric Rhythm.
This would have been so much simpler
seventy years ago, distant edible Time
gone by, a hopeful spot of lunch
and various glass sizes of whisky
and beer filling my insides,
the White Hart
a mess of staggering proportions,
eye sight blurred and voice slurred,
I would have bowed to the words
of Dylan, the master of such dramatic pause…
and shuffled along my own feeble attempt
in which to capture a moment
in fag cut haze, breathing it in,
sideways glance to a booth where my words
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
A life without care is something we all dream of, to play the instrument closest to our hearts and woo the world with it. It is the life we should have, it is the life we were perhaps promised as we sat in classes dominated by the old school guard of thrown blackboard erasers and pulled ears, that we were the fortunate ones because the future was going to be rosy, that the coming of the new century was going to see Humanity rise in such a way that many old ideas were going to finally be obsolete. Nothing is ever that straight forward, everything is always going off at a tangent; that we are always Verging on the Perpendicular.
I want to be on a private beach,
picking sand and shadows
out of my bellybutton, admiring the view
of a secluded castle on the hillside
and the dense wood
that nestles around it,
far from home
when the sunburn hits me,
when nations clash
over such stupidity
on the beach, as they play war games
with tin boats and daring rhetoric,
I want nothing more than to be sipping
a cold beer as my skin goes red
and peels,
getting sunburned in the Med