House Of All (Newhampton Arts Centre, Wolverhampton)
When the (rather excellent) support act David Lance Callahan is joined on stage by his drummer (and ex MES sidekick) Darran Garrat, he jokes “I’m the only person on stage tonight who wasn’t in The Fall.”
Quick as you like, one crowd member flashes back, “And I’m the only person in the audience who wasn’t in The Fall”.
The Manchester band’s churn in members was legendary; it’s spawned an entire book. Mark E Smith – curmudgeon, autocrat, genius – was the only constant.
Following his untimely demise, former bandmates led by Martin Bramah are laying claim to their legacy – and doing so in fine style. Make no mistake, though – this isn’t The Fall or any kind of sad rehash of that band’s former glories.
One fan who calls for ‘Last Orders’ is given short shrift; and while there are cover versions tonight, its Can’s ‘Uphill’ and ‘Ur Mum’ by Wet Leg that get the facelift treatment.
Other than that, it’s all new stuff, either from House Of All’s tumultuous self-titled debut album or their follow-up which was apparently recorded as part of the same hectic sessions.
Bramah ditches the semi singing he employs with his regular band Blue Orchids, and opts for a straightforward ‘sprechen’ delivery, all the better to hear his surreal, phantasmagorical imagery.
The sound is propelled by double drummers, Si Wolstencroft amd Paul Hanley, whose brother Steve sticks to his simple trademarked thudding bass, which lend the songs a nursery rhyme quality.
Stand in guitarist Phil Lewis (replacing Pete Greenway) supplies the jagged guitar lines, creating a sound that is Velvets meets Doors meets glam.
“Terrific” as John Peel would have said.
The Beauty Queen Riots - podcast (BBC I player)
The Lozells Riots of 2005 in Birmingham were truly scary for me on two counts.
Firstly, as a journalist covering the story, I was chased through the streets at the height of the violence by thugs who weren’t interested in enquiring about my health.
The second was that my faith in my home city’s multicultural heritage was challenged by the shocking racism shown towards the south Asian community by their African Caribbean neighbours. Some of the comments I heard when I was conducting interviews on the city’s streets at the time would not have been out of place at a National Front rally – but they were coming from members of a minority groups.
The conflagration was ignited by allegations that a young black woman had been gang raped by a group of men of Pakistani heritage and although this claim was never substantiated, it tapped into long standing economic grievances.
Journalist Amardeep Bassey (a mate of mine) peels back the layers of historic injustice that lay behind the violence - not just the sale of black beauty products by Asian business owners which was cited at the time and which was of huge symbolic significance; but also the economic injustice of Empire than created many of the divisions that played out on the streets of Brum at the cost of two innocent lives.
Desi Pubs: A Guide to British Indian Pubs, Food And Culture (CAMRA)
If you want an antidote to The Beauty Queen Riots, this is it. Desi (ie Indian owned) pubs are a living embodiment of the multicultural ideal – people from different backgrounds bonding over their shared love of beer, food and (usually) sport, courtesy of large screen tellies.
David Jesudason neatly intertwines personal and political history to create a work which is both an important document of social change and a great guidebook for mixed grill guzzlers like myself.
In case you’re wondering, yes, I have raved over this book before, but now I’ve actually seen a hard copy, I like it even more.
Train Departure Boards
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” they say. But what do “they” know? You might have thought the humble train departure board has been around for so long its design must have surely reached it’s zenith?
Apparently not, these new boards – which I’ve seen at both London Euston and Manchester Piccadilly – are sleek and really easy to understand. An improvement on perfection.