So, after an unhappy Saturday football-wise which almost ended in tears (of frustration and anger, not sadness), I am happy again. After seeing Sir Alex's line-up which featured Nani, who had a disastrous showing against Chelsea, and realising we were without Vidic and Rooney, I decided skipping my dance class because I could not take the stress of watching another game which I felt we would lose, because all Barcelona needed was a score draw.
Naturally, I am feeling a little happier with the world, and am now hoping for an all-red final in the Red Square with the correct red to win. We'll see.
On another note, a team of scientists over at the Museum of New Zealand are thawing a colossal giant squid which weighs close to 500 kgs. The squid was caught by accident by fisherman in February 2007. You can catch the thawing process, which began the afternoon of April 28th, Wellington time, live on camera. If your connection's not fast enough to handle the webcast, you can also check out the scientists' blog.
At first glance, I did not realise how large the squid is. Then someone wandered into the frame, providing me with a benchmark, and my first reaction was, "My gosh, it's bigger than a car!" And that was just its head! And, apparently, this specimen may just be a minnow compared to the rest of the colossal squid family. How fascinating! Now this is the sort of news which makes me want to take up deep-sea diving!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Tickets for this year's Meltdown, an annual festival organised by the Southbank Centre and programmed each year by a celebrity curator, have been selling quickly. But then again, when the curator is Massive Attack, the influential creators of trip-hop who have put out such great albums as Blue Lines and Protection (which, a friend notes, sounds like some sort of safe sex campaign), of course tickets are going to sell out.
Meltdown features, among others, opening and closing performances from the band itself, Grace Jones in concert (yes, the Grace Jones), and a number of Silent Disco nights which feature guest DJs such as Peaches, Kieran Hebden (aka Four Tet) and Andrew Weatherall.
As you might expect, tickets for both of Massive Attack's performances are sold out, as is Grace Jones. However, thanks to my great training, gleaned from getting tickets for Coldplay in Singapore and Radio Soulwax over here, I managed to get tickets to their closing performance on June 22, 2008.
I am really looking forward to it. I've been meaning to catch them ever since I got into them back in my university days!
Meltdown features, among others, opening and closing performances from the band itself, Grace Jones in concert (yes, the Grace Jones), and a number of Silent Disco nights which feature guest DJs such as Peaches, Kieran Hebden (aka Four Tet) and Andrew Weatherall.
As you might expect, tickets for both of Massive Attack's performances are sold out, as is Grace Jones. However, thanks to my great training, gleaned from getting tickets for Coldplay in Singapore and Radio Soulwax over here, I managed to get tickets to their closing performance on June 22, 2008.
I am really looking forward to it. I've been meaning to catch them ever since I got into them back in my university days!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
I've been pretty busy over the last couple of months and still haven't quite had the chance to blog about the Underworld gig I attended close to two months ago. Given how much fun I had that night, it's simply unacceptable. However, as the memories have faded with the passage of time, this review will be a lot shorter than my usual gig reviews.
Did someone just say, "Phew! Thank goodness!"? Harumph.
In a nutshell, Underworld were fantastic. Frontman Karl Hyde proved that age was no barrier when it came to high octane performances. He was simply mental, dancing in a way few people would ever dare to do in a club. And he did it throughout the entire concert, while singing. He was amazing. I love to dance but I doubt I could sustain it the way he did, and he's almost 20 years older than I am!
It wasn't just Karl's great performance which made this show so memorable. It was the way they did the visuals and mixed all of their considerable material into the concert which made it so wonderful. While it was just the turntables, the screen (which showed, among other things, video clips of Space Invaders and Pong) and Rick Smith, Darren Price and Karl on stage for the first part of the concert, the concert was raised to another level when props (most notably the gigantic air tubes from the music video for Two Months Off) were brought on stage during the build up to Two Months Off. Between the neon lights bouncing off the tubes, Karl's hypnotic vocals and the great melody (especially the thumping climax of the song)... It was simply awesome.
Did someone just say, "Phew! Thank goodness!"? Harumph.
In a nutshell, Underworld were fantastic. Frontman Karl Hyde proved that age was no barrier when it came to high octane performances. He was simply mental, dancing in a way few people would ever dare to do in a club. And he did it throughout the entire concert, while singing. He was amazing. I love to dance but I doubt I could sustain it the way he did, and he's almost 20 years older than I am!
It wasn't just Karl's great performance which made this show so memorable. It was the way they did the visuals and mixed all of their considerable material into the concert which made it so wonderful. While it was just the turntables, the screen (which showed, among other things, video clips of Space Invaders and Pong) and Rick Smith, Darren Price and Karl on stage for the first part of the concert, the concert was raised to another level when props (most notably the gigantic air tubes from the music video for Two Months Off) were brought on stage during the build up to Two Months Off. Between the neon lights bouncing off the tubes, Karl's hypnotic vocals and the great melody (especially the thumping climax of the song)... It was simply awesome.
Credit: UnderworldLive.com (url)
On top of Karl's dancing, his sheer, crazy antics just made the show that much more enjoyable. At one point in the concert, he held a hand-held camera which was broadcasting to the giant screen behind the band, and he turned it around to film his face and pulled the camera back and forth while simultaneously spinning round and round as he was singing. So, yes, what the audience saw was Karl's giant, deformed head with a constantly moving background. It was freakin' trippy for sure! I don't know how the people who were drugged up (and, trust me, there were quite a few) took it, and it would have been cool to find out what it was they were seeing.
The song I'd been dying to hear (and the song which the duo must be the most sick of, come to think of it) was the anthemic Born Slippy. That song is one of the greatest dance tracks ever made, in my humble opinion. It never fails to move me - both physically and emotionally - every time I hear it. It's such a perfectly put together track that just hearing that melody makes me breathless and almost brings tears to my eyes.
Now, I think most bands would simply have launched into their well-known tune without needing to build it up in any way, but Underworld, being the musical geniuses that they are, had to do it differently. And man, what a build-up. They started with the bassline from Rez, which morphed into an improvised intro by Rick, and then gradually built in the bass of Born Slippy before incorporating that oh-so-familiar intro. Karl's vocals sounded even more impassioned than the record, and just fed the crowd's frenzied response. It was incredible.
That's pretty much all that I can recall from the night. It was a fantastic gig and if you're a fan of electronic music, you should do all you can to catch an Underworld gig. With a great frontman (Karl is one of the best live performers you'd ever get a chance to see), stunning visuals and simply incredible music... what more could you ask for?
Related:
Underworld's MySpace page
UnderworldLive - The duo occasionally do live broadcasts of performances from their studio as well as concerts. The next broadcast is scheduled for June 11, 2008 at 6 pm, UK time. Live recordings of their gigs can also be purchased here for £15 per gig.
Underworld - Two Months Off (February 28, 2008 at the Roundhouse)
Underworld - Born Slippy (February 28, 2008 at the Roundhouse) - Judging by the response of the crowd to this tune, it's clear that I'm not the only one who is extremely in love with this tune. I defy anyone who proclaims to like dance music to tell me that this tune does not rock their world.
After lunch, my girlfriends decided to go shopping. I declined, saying I wanted to go home and study, although I ended up making a detour which involved sampling Flat White, checking out American Apparel and La Senza, before finally getting on the bus home.
But before that detour, one of my friends said, "The grouchiness will pass."
I stared at her, first in astonishment, then in relief and exclaimed, "Oh my God! Yes, I've been so incredibly grumpy for the last few weeks and I couldn't figure out why!" I had attributed it to job stress and missing friends back home with whom I could just be utterly crazy with and not have to watch what I say (given that the people I end up spending the most time with here are invariably my colleagues), and to hear someone who'd been through the same pain I'd been going through this time last year put forward an explanation as to what's been bugging me... it really did help.
This exam is really getting to me. And it may be the last of three legs and I should be happy the end is in sight, I'm just finding it so darn difficult to digest anything because it's so boring that it makes me sleep whenever I start reading about a financial valuation model, not to mention that the mathematical formulas look so complicated, I hyperventilate merely thinking about them.
Friends tell me I go through that same angst before every exam I've taken and I've always ended up passing. Now, if you've got a friend like me, don't ever tell that person that. It will only make her more stressed out that this will be the time when she finally proves herself right and everyone else wrong.
Be smart, be cool, and sympathise while she freaks out. That's all you need to do. That's all you can do, really. Just don't tell her she's being silly when this is an exam where only half the participants pass.
But before that detour, one of my friends said, "The grouchiness will pass."
I stared at her, first in astonishment, then in relief and exclaimed, "Oh my God! Yes, I've been so incredibly grumpy for the last few weeks and I couldn't figure out why!" I had attributed it to job stress and missing friends back home with whom I could just be utterly crazy with and not have to watch what I say (given that the people I end up spending the most time with here are invariably my colleagues), and to hear someone who'd been through the same pain I'd been going through this time last year put forward an explanation as to what's been bugging me... it really did help.
This exam is really getting to me. And it may be the last of three legs and I should be happy the end is in sight, I'm just finding it so darn difficult to digest anything because it's so boring that it makes me sleep whenever I start reading about a financial valuation model, not to mention that the mathematical formulas look so complicated, I hyperventilate merely thinking about them.
Friends tell me I go through that same angst before every exam I've taken and I've always ended up passing. Now, if you've got a friend like me, don't ever tell that person that. It will only make her more stressed out that this will be the time when she finally proves herself right and everyone else wrong.
Be smart, be cool, and sympathise while she freaks out. That's all you need to do. That's all you can do, really. Just don't tell her she's being silly when this is an exam where only half the participants pass.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Thought at 2.15 am today: Ah, dirty pounding techno beats. How I have missed you! How could I have lived without you for this long?
Price paid at 7 am today: Accidentally tipping sundried tomatoes into my muesli, instead of cranberries. Fortunately, error was noticed pre-milk.
Price paid at 7 am today: Accidentally tipping sundried tomatoes into my muesli, instead of cranberries. Fortunately, error was noticed pre-milk.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The Tracey Fragments, based on Maureen Medved's novel of the same name, starts off with 15-year-old Tracey Berkowitz, played by Ellen Page, naked under a shower curtain at the back of a bus, looking for her little brother Sonny, who thinks he's a dog. The rest of the film pieces together the events leading up to the point where we first meet Tracey.
There are many cinematic devices director Bruce McDonald utilises in this film: the movie is shot almost entirely in split-screen, there are a number of jump cuts, there are some fantasy sequences, and as mentioned earlier, the story is told almost entirely through recollections. The thing with utilising such devices is that they ultimately end up distracting the viewer from what's going on.
Yes, I get it. It's in split screens and all that, because the fragments represent the disintegration of the main character's mental state, so on and so forth, but really, it felt as if the director tried to throw in as many nifty devices he could think of without any care and consideration for the viewer.
Now for the good parts. The soundtrack, scored by Broken Social Scene, and including other bands such as Peaches (who also feature on the Juno soundtrack) and Fembots, is well chosen and nicely interwoven with the overall film. There is a particularly good scene in the beginning of the film where Broken Social Scene's cover of Patti Smith - Horses is cut in quite well with the scene in question, almost as if the movie stopped being a movie for a moment, and was instead subject to the technical wizardry of a VJ.
Ellen Page turns in another brilliant performance as a disaffected, bullied, neurotic teenager, sort of like a more damaged Juno (although this film was made before that show). She conveys the hard-edged innocence of Tracey incredibly effortlessly. And in one sequence, where she dresses up in New Wave/Fafi fashion, she just looked incredible. Her eyes are very expressive. I wish I could pull that off, and, hey, I'm way more Oriental-looking than she would ever be, and, yet, I just know I can't do it with the same panache she possesses.
All in all, I would say that The Tracey Fragments is a decent movie. I would give it 3 out of 5 stars. I would have rated it higher had all the visual trickery not given me a slight headache. However, it did. So, unless you're a huge fan of Ellen Page (which I am, to a minor extent) or like movies with cool soundtracks (again, something I am), I wouldn't declare this a must-see. I was a little regretful that I sacrificed some study time for this as it is coming out on general release later this year.
Of course, the fact that there was a free afterparty which came with my ticket which included a viewing of Tracey Remixed, a movie remix by VJ Buzzard Buzzard, accompanied by a live ambient soundtrack by Youthmovies did make the sacrifice a little more worthwhile.
There are many cinematic devices director Bruce McDonald utilises in this film: the movie is shot almost entirely in split-screen, there are a number of jump cuts, there are some fantasy sequences, and as mentioned earlier, the story is told almost entirely through recollections. The thing with utilising such devices is that they ultimately end up distracting the viewer from what's going on.
Yes, I get it. It's in split screens and all that, because the fragments represent the disintegration of the main character's mental state, so on and so forth, but really, it felt as if the director tried to throw in as many nifty devices he could think of without any care and consideration for the viewer.
Now for the good parts. The soundtrack, scored by Broken Social Scene, and including other bands such as Peaches (who also feature on the Juno soundtrack) and Fembots, is well chosen and nicely interwoven with the overall film. There is a particularly good scene in the beginning of the film where Broken Social Scene's cover of Patti Smith - Horses is cut in quite well with the scene in question, almost as if the movie stopped being a movie for a moment, and was instead subject to the technical wizardry of a VJ.
Ellen Page turns in another brilliant performance as a disaffected, bullied, neurotic teenager, sort of like a more damaged Juno (although this film was made before that show). She conveys the hard-edged innocence of Tracey incredibly effortlessly. And in one sequence, where she dresses up in New Wave/Fafi fashion, she just looked incredible. Her eyes are very expressive. I wish I could pull that off, and, hey, I'm way more Oriental-looking than she would ever be, and, yet, I just know I can't do it with the same panache she possesses.
All in all, I would say that The Tracey Fragments is a decent movie. I would give it 3 out of 5 stars. I would have rated it higher had all the visual trickery not given me a slight headache. However, it did. So, unless you're a huge fan of Ellen Page (which I am, to a minor extent) or like movies with cool soundtracks (again, something I am), I wouldn't declare this a must-see. I was a little regretful that I sacrificed some study time for this as it is coming out on general release later this year.
Of course, the fact that there was a free afterparty which came with my ticket which included a viewing of Tracey Remixed, a movie remix by VJ Buzzard Buzzard, accompanied by a live ambient soundtrack by Youthmovies did make the sacrifice a little more worthwhile.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Guilty Pleasure #201
Upon closer inspection, part of the dance sequence looks quite a bit like the warm-up for my dance class. No wonder I enjoy the class so much!
Upon closer inspection, part of the dance sequence looks quite a bit like the warm-up for my dance class. No wonder I enjoy the class so much!
DJ Yoda's recently released FabricLive 39 is most definitely recommended for all fans of mash-up and all kinds of eclectic music. To commemorate the album launch, DJ Yoda put together a 30 minute mini-mix. It may be short, but it's packed with musical gems and has more than a few surprises (in particular at the 22:18 mark).
The mini-mix can be listened to here and downloaded from here.
The mini-mix can be listened to here and downloaded from here.
Son of Rambow is a delightfully British movie. Set in 1982, this film is about two young boys who set out to make their own action movie after having been captivated by First Blood, the first Rambo movie.
The boys, Will Proudfoot (Bill Milner) and Lee Carter (Will Poulter), are not initially friends. They first meet when Will, a member of the Plymouth Brethren (similar to the Amish, I'm told) is sitting out in the corridor, having been sent out of class as they are about to watch a documentary as he is not permitted to watch TV. Lee is thrown out of class for being a general hell raiser (as regular an occurrence as Will's weekly documentary exclusion, we soon learn) and Lee takes it upon himself to bully Will into helping him out with his film project.
At the same time, a group of French exchange students arrive at the school, among them, Didier Revol (Jules Sitruk, Stanley Kubrick's grandson), seemingly the most chic and outrageously cool of all the French students, who instantly captures the minds and hearts of the English students who set eyes on him.
The two plot lines interact when Didier, typically Gallicly bored with everything that has been offered to him by the adoring English students so far, discovers Will's notebook, filled with beautiful sketches of monsters, heroes and other movie ideas. They hijack the movie in Lee's absence and with Will's naive, trusting consent; Lee, by now revealed as an outsider in the school, is left ostracised and resentful when he returns.
To say anymore, I feel, would be to give the entire movie away. But it is very much a British film; it is funny, quirky, sincere, charming and touching. One suspects that an American movie-maker simply would not have been able to make a film as great as this if they had been given the same script and story idea. Other great British movies which fall in this category would be Love Actually and About a Boy.
This film was written and directed by Garth Jennings, director of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and was meant to be his first film, but ended up taking seven years to make. The plot was inspired by Garth's own childhood adventures with his friends when they pretended to make their own Rambo movie.
So as to ground the setting of the movie firmly in the '80s, Garth sprinkles music from that era throughout the show, with songs from Depeche Mode and The Cure featuring in the film. He also uses slang from the '80s to make it more authentic (with the school children calling Lee a "scab" and the kids generally using "it's skills" to refer to anything cool).
The day I went to see the film, I had had a rather bad day at work.; between this movie, and being plied with chocolate and ice-cream by a colleague, everything just seemed all right. But even without the sugary treats, I'll say that if anyone watches this show, and doesn't feel happy afterwards, then that person has a heart made of stone.
SPOILERS
Favourite scenes:
Will (as the son of Rambow): I need to find my dad!
Didier (as Le Wolf and said in a very French accent): Okay, I will help you find the daddy-man.
Didier (coughing and again in a very French accent): I need a coca cola!
Will (as the son of Rambow): Let's split up!
Lee (as Colonel Chapman and after a very long pause): Yes. Okay.
The boys, Will Proudfoot (Bill Milner) and Lee Carter (Will Poulter), are not initially friends. They first meet when Will, a member of the Plymouth Brethren (similar to the Amish, I'm told) is sitting out in the corridor, having been sent out of class as they are about to watch a documentary as he is not permitted to watch TV. Lee is thrown out of class for being a general hell raiser (as regular an occurrence as Will's weekly documentary exclusion, we soon learn) and Lee takes it upon himself to bully Will into helping him out with his film project.
At the same time, a group of French exchange students arrive at the school, among them, Didier Revol (Jules Sitruk, Stanley Kubrick's grandson), seemingly the most chic and outrageously cool of all the French students, who instantly captures the minds and hearts of the English students who set eyes on him.
The two plot lines interact when Didier, typically Gallicly bored with everything that has been offered to him by the adoring English students so far, discovers Will's notebook, filled with beautiful sketches of monsters, heroes and other movie ideas. They hijack the movie in Lee's absence and with Will's naive, trusting consent; Lee, by now revealed as an outsider in the school, is left ostracised and resentful when he returns.
To say anymore, I feel, would be to give the entire movie away. But it is very much a British film; it is funny, quirky, sincere, charming and touching. One suspects that an American movie-maker simply would not have been able to make a film as great as this if they had been given the same script and story idea. Other great British movies which fall in this category would be Love Actually and About a Boy.
This film was written and directed by Garth Jennings, director of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and was meant to be his first film, but ended up taking seven years to make. The plot was inspired by Garth's own childhood adventures with his friends when they pretended to make their own Rambo movie.
So as to ground the setting of the movie firmly in the '80s, Garth sprinkles music from that era throughout the show, with songs from Depeche Mode and The Cure featuring in the film. He also uses slang from the '80s to make it more authentic (with the school children calling Lee a "scab" and the kids generally using "it's skills" to refer to anything cool).
The day I went to see the film, I had had a rather bad day at work.; between this movie, and being plied with chocolate and ice-cream by a colleague, everything just seemed all right. But even without the sugary treats, I'll say that if anyone watches this show, and doesn't feel happy afterwards, then that person has a heart made of stone.
SPOILERS
Favourite scenes:
Will (as the son of Rambow): I need to find my dad!
Didier (as Le Wolf and said in a very French accent): Okay, I will help you find the daddy-man.
Didier (coughing and again in a very French accent): I need a coca cola!
Will (as the son of Rambow): Let's split up!
Lee (as Colonel Chapman and after a very long pause): Yes. Okay.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Los Campesinos! were wonderful. I'm sure you're getting tired of my proclaiming that every concert I go to is great, but I like to think that it's a combination of my great taste in music (heh) and the fact that the bands here really are just that talented.
Anyway, the night didn't start off too fantastically. Doors opened at 10 pm, so I got there promptly, thinking that, surely, the band would start around 11 pm, play for less than an hour (given that tickets were £5 after all) and then those who wanted to party on could stay while the rest of us could catch the tube home.
As it turns out, I was wrong.
Instead, those queuing were divided into two queues: male and female. I kid you not. All of us were astounded, but the reasoning was that they wanted to search our bags, and, hence, there had to be two different lines. I'm not sure why given that no other club I've come across implements this policy (the segregation, not the bag searching. That's normal) but it definitely did not make for happy clubbers, as those who were in a mixed group (and there were many) had to be separated, with no guarantee that the entire group would be able to get in at the same time.
To make things worse, they kept all of us waiting out in the cold for over half an hour. I'm used to having to wait, but that night was very cold, and I'm sure the other clubbers felt it more keenly than I did, given that I was wearing enough clothing to combat the cold.
Anyway, so when the doors finally opened to let us in, the men's queue - predictably - moved faster than the ladies' queue, something along the lines of three males to every female. It's not something the ladies were particularly pleased about given that the Quad does have capacity constraints (of about 1,000, if it hasn't changed from when I was in uni).
It wasn't the ideal start to an eagerly anticipated gig. I'm sure you get the idea.
It should also be obvious that I did manage to get in, and, once I was in, all the bad vibes I'd gotten from having been subject to a rather stupid queueing policy vanished. This might have been helped by the fact that drinks were half-price, much to my amazement. In fact, given the bars I'd been to lately, the drinks were more than half-price (A Corona was £1.40 vs. £3.30 at 93 Feet East), so I was well chuffed. The guy in front of me was as well; he turned round just as I queued up behind him and yelled, "Half-price drinks! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Heh.
I didn't really take advantage of this promotion though. I was by myself, and in spite of my seemingly alcoholic tendencies, I don't drink much when I'm by myself, which has pretty much meant I haven't drunk that much at all since I arrived in London.
Anyway, the night didn't start off too fantastically. Doors opened at 10 pm, so I got there promptly, thinking that, surely, the band would start around 11 pm, play for less than an hour (given that tickets were £5 after all) and then those who wanted to party on could stay while the rest of us could catch the tube home.
As it turns out, I was wrong.
Instead, those queuing were divided into two queues: male and female. I kid you not. All of us were astounded, but the reasoning was that they wanted to search our bags, and, hence, there had to be two different lines. I'm not sure why given that no other club I've come across implements this policy (the segregation, not the bag searching. That's normal) but it definitely did not make for happy clubbers, as those who were in a mixed group (and there were many) had to be separated, with no guarantee that the entire group would be able to get in at the same time.
To make things worse, they kept all of us waiting out in the cold for over half an hour. I'm used to having to wait, but that night was very cold, and I'm sure the other clubbers felt it more keenly than I did, given that I was wearing enough clothing to combat the cold.
Anyway, so when the doors finally opened to let us in, the men's queue - predictably - moved faster than the ladies' queue, something along the lines of three males to every female. It's not something the ladies were particularly pleased about given that the Quad does have capacity constraints (of about 1,000, if it hasn't changed from when I was in uni).
It wasn't the ideal start to an eagerly anticipated gig. I'm sure you get the idea.
It should also be obvious that I did manage to get in, and, once I was in, all the bad vibes I'd gotten from having been subject to a rather stupid queueing policy vanished. This might have been helped by the fact that drinks were half-price, much to my amazement. In fact, given the bars I'd been to lately, the drinks were more than half-price (A Corona was £1.40 vs. £3.30 at 93 Feet East), so I was well chuffed. The guy in front of me was as well; he turned round just as I queued up behind him and yelled, "Half-price drinks! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Heh.
I didn't really take advantage of this promotion though. I was by myself, and in spite of my seemingly alcoholic tendencies, I don't drink much when I'm by myself, which has pretty much meant I haven't drunk that much at all since I arrived in London.
Los Campesinos!
So. Anyway. Los Campesinos! came on after half an hour after I got in. An indie pop septet hailing from Cardiff who describe themselves as "the second-most punk rock band in Britain", they seemed rather overwhelmed by the enthusiastic reception they got from the crowd the moment they appeared. Lead singer Gareth thanked the audience for being so wonderful after every single song. I kind of got the sense that he couldn't quite believe this was all happening. It was all rather endearing.
Los Campesinos! played through pretty much their entire catalogue of songs, including their hits, We Throw Parties, You Throw Knives, The International Tweexcore Underground, Drop It Doe Eyes and, of course, You! Me! Dancing! There is a lot going on in every song they perform. But of course, with seven people in the band, you'd expect there to be. Each performance was fast-paced, full of beats and energy and definitely lots of instruments (with the glockenspiel and violin featuring in quite a few of the songs).
Gareth
Gareth is definitely lacking in the singing ability that most other lead singers would possess but the songs that the band have put out so far don't really require great singers. I can't quite describe the style of singing, but it kind of reminds me of Jarvis Cocker in Common People without well, quite getting to the level where you'd call it singing. In any case, his voice is distinctive, and I'm conscious of the fact that not every one seems to be able to take it. He does make up for it with his rather geeky style of dancing though. Aleksandra, the female singer, does not suffer from the same problem that Gareth does. She, however, does not feature in all of the band's songs.
But no one really listens to Los Campesinos purely for the singing anyway. They listen because their songs are irrepressibly cheerful, their lyrics are intelligent, strange and wacky all at once (We Throw Parties, You Throw Knives starts off with "When you play pass the parcel with human body parts / Somebody might get head but somebody will get hurt" and the infectious chorus "There's red stains all over the place / They're not blood, they're cherryade" in and "And every sentence that I spoke began and ended in ellip...sis" in Knee Deep at ATP) and every song is just full of exclamation marky goodness that it's impossible not to feel it too.
My favourite tune by the band, and more than quite a few people's tune of 2007, is You! Me! Dancing!. It has all the ingredients of a great tune: one heck of a build-up, twinkly glockenspiel, hand claps, a great chorus, a memorable guitar riff and loads of energy. What's not to like? When Gareth and Aleks sing, almost plaintively, "If there's one thing I can never confess / It's that I can't dance a single step," before shouting, "It's you! It's me! And there's dancing!" how could one resist? How could one not want to dance awkwardly and geekily along with Gareth? Why on earth would one want to dance with anyone else?
Happy moshy people
The band ended off the night with Sweet Dreams, Sweet Cheeks. Midway through the song, Gareth just dived off the stage into the crowd. The security guard just lunged after him and kept his hand on Gareth's t-shirt, preventing him from getting too far. The crowd which had already been moshing like mad through the night just went mad. After several verses, he got back on stage and he mouthed to someone "you're buying me a drink, yeah?" so I'd definitely like to know who that person was and what happened for sure. It was definitely a good song to end off the set. It's not as high-powered as the other songs in their repertoire, but it was definitely a crowd favourite as it's an unreleased tune which helped the band achieve Internet fame. And so, with "Sweet dreams, sweet cheeks / Oh tomorrow, oh tomorrow..." Los Campesinos! thanked the crowd once again and were off.
Related Links:
Los Campesinos! (Official Web Site) - The band's beautifully quirkily illustrated web site features a blog, a mechandise store (with cute t-shirts of the cover art from Hold On Now, Youngster) and free downloads of We Throw Parties, You Throw Knives and Don't Tell Me To Do The Math(s).
Los Campesinos! - Live in Concert (February 25, 2008) - FabChannel - Features their famous cover of Pavement's Frontwards, done with typical Los Campesinos! energy.
Wichita Records - Los Campesinos!'s record label and also the label of Simian Mobile Disco and Those Dancing Days.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
The Lad is leaving my team! He’s not leaving the company, but he’ll be moving to another office in a number of weeks.
I’m gutted! I really, really am. It’s downright insane how much I’ve grown to like him in such a short period of time.
While this technically means I can now ask him out as it’s less verboten now, it just means I’ve lost my cover for why I would never do such a thing. The truth is, I would never have the bottle to do so… much less ever let him know how I feel!
I’m gutted! I really, really am. It’s downright insane how much I’ve grown to like him in such a short period of time.
While this technically means I can now ask him out as it’s less verboten now, it just means I’ve lost my cover for why I would never do such a thing. The truth is, I would never have the bottle to do so… much less ever let him know how I feel!
Monday, April 14, 2008
After briefly getting lost in spite of having a map on-hand, I made my way to Britain's First & Best Beigel Shop on Brick Lane to get dinner: a salt beef bagel. To my disappointment, all they had were plain bagels instead of my much-craved onion bagel. But I'd come too far to be denied, so I just had the salt beef with a little English mustard on a plain bagel.
Was it spectacular? No. Was it good? Meh. I'd say it was just average. I don't really get what's so great about the bagels sold by the two Brick Lane bagel places, to be quite honest, but the prices are certainly good (£2.60 for a crapload of beef), so I'll definitely drop by for a cheap eat whenever I'm in the area.
After I finished the salt beef (and being reminded of the similarities between English mustard and wasabi in the process), I walked to the neighbouring Beigel Bake to purchase an Eccles cake and an apple turnover (both 50p each). The Eccles cake was delightful when hot, the apple turnover not so much. I like my apple pastries sweet and tart at the same time, but the filling in Beigel Bake's apple turnover was just plain bland, same as the last time I tried it. To sum up, the Eccles cake is a definite repurchase, the apple turnover, not so much.
Still, in spite of that less than spectacular dining experience (which was still somewhat okay given my state of extreme hunger), I do so love Brick Lane. It's full of all these amazing shops where you can find anything and everything. And best of all, you won't break the bank (much) should you wish to indulge... particularly during the Sunday market sessions!
Then I wandered off to make my way home, and I had the strongest feeling that Chelsea and Wigan would draw, unlikely a result as that seemed at the time. As I mentioned to a friend the day before, I'm only prescient when it comes to football results, and, as it turned out, I was right. Go me!
Was it spectacular? No. Was it good? Meh. I'd say it was just average. I don't really get what's so great about the bagels sold by the two Brick Lane bagel places, to be quite honest, but the prices are certainly good (£2.60 for a crapload of beef), so I'll definitely drop by for a cheap eat whenever I'm in the area.
After I finished the salt beef (and being reminded of the similarities between English mustard and wasabi in the process), I walked to the neighbouring Beigel Bake to purchase an Eccles cake and an apple turnover (both 50p each). The Eccles cake was delightful when hot, the apple turnover not so much. I like my apple pastries sweet and tart at the same time, but the filling in Beigel Bake's apple turnover was just plain bland, same as the last time I tried it. To sum up, the Eccles cake is a definite repurchase, the apple turnover, not so much.
Still, in spite of that less than spectacular dining experience (which was still somewhat okay given my state of extreme hunger), I do so love Brick Lane. It's full of all these amazing shops where you can find anything and everything. And best of all, you won't break the bank (much) should you wish to indulge... particularly during the Sunday market sessions!
Then I wandered off to make my way home, and I had the strongest feeling that Chelsea and Wigan would draw, unlikely a result as that seemed at the time. As I mentioned to a friend the day before, I'm only prescient when it comes to football results, and, as it turned out, I was right. Go me!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
A little while ago, I had coffee with a friend. As is the norm with girls, we ended up talking about relationships in general, when I said this, "Relationships... aren't like anything else on this planet. It doesn't get any easier with practice. In fact, I think it just gets worse the more people you date. I mean... how do you know that this guy you're with... that he's the one? That he's the one you're meant to be with? I've felt this way before about other people and they didn't work out. How do you know?"
I was surprised at how desperate I sounded, not just by the words I used, but also by my tone. I had definitely not having intended to go down this road.
I'd also completely forgotten that the man my friend had recently got engaged to was her first and only boyfriend.
But she said this, "Well, I don't know if I'll ever feel this way about another guy, but what I have right now with him, it's quite good and I guess... if it ain't broke, don't fix it!"
Not exactly the most inspiring words in the world, but then again, my friend has never been the emotional, expressive sort. I know she's happy with her fiance, and he does seem like a nice, sweet guy beneath his gruff exterior.
Let's get back to how this started. I've been wondering, could all this dating - not at all excessive by quite a few people's standards - have rendered my judgement permanently impaired? Perhaps that, coupled with the damage wrought by the romantic songs and movies I listened to while growing up, has just made it so much more difficult for me to... to something. I don't know.
I think I'm still looking for that guy who'll let me know I'm not alone if I ever Crash and Burn, as well as that person who'll try to Fix [Me] when I feel lost, who'll make me wonder why I Never Saw Blue Like That before. All of that and more.
Is "the one" really out there? Or even several "ones"? Or am I being foolish in not wanting to settle?
Let me just clarify that I'm not looking to get married right here, right now. The thought of getting married now frightens me, much less the thought of settling down and raising kids. But I do want to get married someday... and for that relationship to last a lifetime, increasingly rare an occurrence as that may be.
I was surprised at how desperate I sounded, not just by the words I used, but also by my tone. I had definitely not having intended to go down this road.
I'd also completely forgotten that the man my friend had recently got engaged to was her first and only boyfriend.
But she said this, "Well, I don't know if I'll ever feel this way about another guy, but what I have right now with him, it's quite good and I guess... if it ain't broke, don't fix it!"
Not exactly the most inspiring words in the world, but then again, my friend has never been the emotional, expressive sort. I know she's happy with her fiance, and he does seem like a nice, sweet guy beneath his gruff exterior.
Let's get back to how this started. I've been wondering, could all this dating - not at all excessive by quite a few people's standards - have rendered my judgement permanently impaired? Perhaps that, coupled with the damage wrought by the romantic songs and movies I listened to while growing up, has just made it so much more difficult for me to... to something. I don't know.
I think I'm still looking for that guy who'll let me know I'm not alone if I ever Crash and Burn, as well as that person who'll try to Fix [Me] when I feel lost, who'll make me wonder why I Never Saw Blue Like That before. All of that and more.
Is "the one" really out there? Or even several "ones"? Or am I being foolish in not wanting to settle?
Let me just clarify that I'm not looking to get married right here, right now. The thought of getting married now frightens me, much less the thought of settling down and raising kids. But I do want to get married someday... and for that relationship to last a lifetime, increasingly rare an occurrence as that may be.
Woo hoo! 2-1! And Manchester United have effectively put an end to Arsenal's season. It was only about a month ago when the Gunners were leading the league and still in the Champions League too. How quickly fortunes can change.
As noted by football kaki, whom I was texting throughout the second half because it was filled with way too many heart-in-my-mouth moments therefore causing me to not be able to concentrate on studying at all, we still haven't lost when we're both watching the games. which is good to hear. His comment is a reference to my semi-superstitious belief that whenever I watch Man U play live, they invariably lose. Glad that I've met someone who's counteracted that so effectively!
There'll be a couple of photo-filled posts up soon. One will be incredibly frivolous, detailing how I've just gone utterly crazy for all things MAC, while another will be expounding on the joy that is indie twee pop band Los Campesinos!, who make songs so happy and joyful that everything ought to contain an exclamation mark (or two)!!
As noted by football kaki, whom I was texting throughout the second half because it was filled with way too many heart-in-my-mouth moments therefore causing me to not be able to concentrate on studying at all, we still haven't lost when we're both watching the games. which is good to hear. His comment is a reference to my semi-superstitious belief that whenever I watch Man U play live, they invariably lose. Glad that I've met someone who's counteracted that so effectively!
There'll be a couple of photo-filled posts up soon. One will be incredibly frivolous, detailing how I've just gone utterly crazy for all things MAC, while another will be expounding on the joy that is indie twee pop band Los Campesinos!, who make songs so happy and joyful that everything ought to contain an exclamation mark (or two)!!
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Oh, cool, I found a couple of other blog post reviewing coffee places in London, so this gives me a few others to add on to my list!
I tried Bullet on the third floor of Snow & Rock on Mercer Street today. Here's my quick review.
Food: Not much in the way of choice. There were only three types of paninis and one salad in the chiller by the time I got there at 2 pm. In terms of sweets, there was a pie of some sort, two types of cookies and some brownies. The brownie was incredibly dense, and utterly divine.
Beverages: The cappuccino was pretty good. Bullet uses organic fairtrade coffee, which are supposed to taste better than regular coffee. I don't know if it's true, but this cup of java was definitely good enough to be drunk without sugar, unlike what you'd get in Caffe Nero. The cappuccino was served with two marshmallows on the side, which I thought was slightly odd, but sweet nonetheless... in all senses of the word!
Prices: Given that this is in Covent Garden, prices were a little on the high side. An espresso cost £1.50 while a cappuccino and a flat white cost £2. The brownie was £2, about the same as you'd get from Flour Power City, although perhaps only 75% of the size. Paninis were £3.40, slightly high given they didn't look too appetising, but I think that's the normal rate for a panini in this city.
Service: I think service was generally all right. The New Zealand barista who served me was quite pleasant, offering to warm my brownie, but they lost some marks for taking a while to serve my cappuccino. I don't know if he had forgotten or if they were waiting for me to finish my brownie, but it took ten minutes before I got my beverage.
Size: The place is a little on the small side. There are only about four or five tables, and two sofa seating areas, so not many people can sit there before it becomes either too noisy or too crowded or both.
Ambiance: As mentioned above, it can get a little cramped and definitely a little too noisy.
Facilities: There are two Internet PCs free for customers to use. Restrooms were quite clean.
I tried Bullet on the third floor of Snow & Rock on Mercer Street today. Here's my quick review.
Food: Not much in the way of choice. There were only three types of paninis and one salad in the chiller by the time I got there at 2 pm. In terms of sweets, there was a pie of some sort, two types of cookies and some brownies. The brownie was incredibly dense, and utterly divine.
Beverages: The cappuccino was pretty good. Bullet uses organic fairtrade coffee, which are supposed to taste better than regular coffee. I don't know if it's true, but this cup of java was definitely good enough to be drunk without sugar, unlike what you'd get in Caffe Nero. The cappuccino was served with two marshmallows on the side, which I thought was slightly odd, but sweet nonetheless... in all senses of the word!
Prices: Given that this is in Covent Garden, prices were a little on the high side. An espresso cost £1.50 while a cappuccino and a flat white cost £2. The brownie was £2, about the same as you'd get from Flour Power City, although perhaps only 75% of the size. Paninis were £3.40, slightly high given they didn't look too appetising, but I think that's the normal rate for a panini in this city.
Service: I think service was generally all right. The New Zealand barista who served me was quite pleasant, offering to warm my brownie, but they lost some marks for taking a while to serve my cappuccino. I don't know if he had forgotten or if they were waiting for me to finish my brownie, but it took ten minutes before I got my beverage.
Size: The place is a little on the small side. There are only about four or five tables, and two sofa seating areas, so not many people can sit there before it becomes either too noisy or too crowded or both.
Ambiance: As mentioned above, it can get a little cramped and definitely a little too noisy.
Facilities: There are two Internet PCs free for customers to use. Restrooms were quite clean.
It's Man Utd vs. Arsenal tomorrow afternoon. I'm quite anxious about the game because Chelsea are nipping at our heels. But more than that, I miss my football-watching kaki back home. We didn't watch every game together, but we did make an effort to catch the big games. And by anyone's definition, tomorrow's game is a big game.
It doesn't really help that said kaki is also the same person referenced here and here. I've only ever admitted liking him to one of my best friends, one's who's close to the ex-girlfriend of this guy, the ex-girlfriend who's also a good friend of mine.
See how complicated that last paragraph was?
In any case, the best friend told me that she'd suspected something was up, because the two of us (meaning kaki and I) are good friends who hang out quite a bit together, and the way we looked in a photo we took when I was back home. She also said that if anything ever occurred, she'd be on my side because kaki and I had been friends independently of ex-girlfriend (as in we'd met before they got together, and our friendship hadn't been predicated on the fact that he'd been going out with a good friend of mine). In addition, it'd been ex-girlfriend who'd initiated the break, so my best friend said she had no reason to object if I wanted to go out with kaki.
Still, we agreed it was a moot point; I'm here, he's there. I've always maintained that it's just because he's a nice guy and I'm a nice girl that people are reading way more into our friendship than there really is, because neither one of us has, as far as I am aware, ever made any overtures which could be considered more than platonic.
But I'll admit: I miss his being around, I miss his nice-ness and his checking in on me every now and then, and I definitely miss having a fellow Man Utd fan around to catch the game with.
It doesn't really help that said kaki is also the same person referenced here and here. I've only ever admitted liking him to one of my best friends, one's who's close to the ex-girlfriend of this guy, the ex-girlfriend who's also a good friend of mine.
See how complicated that last paragraph was?
In any case, the best friend told me that she'd suspected something was up, because the two of us (meaning kaki and I) are good friends who hang out quite a bit together, and the way we looked in a photo we took when I was back home. She also said that if anything ever occurred, she'd be on my side because kaki and I had been friends independently of ex-girlfriend (as in we'd met before they got together, and our friendship hadn't been predicated on the fact that he'd been going out with a good friend of mine). In addition, it'd been ex-girlfriend who'd initiated the break, so my best friend said she had no reason to object if I wanted to go out with kaki.
Still, we agreed it was a moot point; I'm here, he's there. I've always maintained that it's just because he's a nice guy and I'm a nice girl that people are reading way more into our friendship than there really is, because neither one of us has, as far as I am aware, ever made any overtures which could be considered more than platonic.
But I'll admit: I miss his being around, I miss his nice-ness and his checking in on me every now and then, and I definitely miss having a fellow Man Utd fan around to catch the game with.
Friday, April 11, 2008
When I was living in Singapore, I tended to be aware of whatever was going down in the little red dot.
Now that I'm living in London, I'm happy to say that I seem to have managed to exercise this particularly useful ability of mine to cover the big smoke.
With Singapore being the size it is, it's not too hard keeping abreast of the concert,s club nights, theatre, sales, etc. going on. London, however, is a whole different animal.
So how do I do it? It's a combination of a lot of Internet surfing, being on the mailng lists of ticket sellers, reading Time Out and just generally reading the various free newspapers the increasingly rare times I leave the office early enough to grab one.
Some useful sites I've found which cover everything from the exhibitions to plays to sales to music are Urban Junkies, Flavorpill and Londonist. However, there's always a chance that by tickets would have been sold out by the time a gig makes its way onto these sites. If you're worried this might happen, you should check out IndieLondon's gig guide on a regular basis. I've found it's more comprehensive than Time Out, as Time Out does sometimes suffer from the sold-out syndrome as well.
Daily Candy is quite good for quirky, unusual shops and experiences in London; of course, you do need money to enjoy quite a few of their suggestions, but the layout and design of Daily Candy is so deliciously girly that I just enjoy reading the daily e-mails even if I can't quite afford to partake of some of the activities proposed.
If shopping is more your cup of tea, and you love your brands, then Fashion Confidential's sample sales alert is what you need. Every few weeks or so, you'll receive an e-mail listing the upcoming sample sales for brands such as Ted Baker, Temperley and Biba. Lynku also lists a number of sales.
Of course, it's not cheap indulging in all these activities in London. You'd want to stretch that pound as far as it can go. This is where the Internet comes in handy. Tickets are usually sold by a number of Internet retailers. However, not all of them are priced the same. I have seen tickets selling for £16 on one site retailing for £19.50 on another, despite the fact that the tickets were exactly the same. So if you want to purchase tickets, I would strongly advise you to check the various ticket sites before making your purchase. If all of them are more or less the same price, then perhaps you should go to Gigantic (if it's selling your event) as 10% of the booking fee will be donated to Oxfam, so at least you're contributing to the greater good. If the event is sold out, try Scarlet Mist which is a forum where people sell their spare tickets, but at face value, rather than marking it up as they tend to do over at Seatwave.
When going for a play, check out Theatre Monkey's review of venues which provides seating plans and advice on the best seats for the category you're going for. While this may not help you save money, it does at least help you figure out what you're getting for the money you're paying.
That's all I have for now, and will update this in subsequent posts as and when I come across new sites of interest.
Now that I'm living in London, I'm happy to say that I seem to have managed to exercise this particularly useful ability of mine to cover the big smoke.
With Singapore being the size it is, it's not too hard keeping abreast of the concert,s club nights, theatre, sales, etc. going on. London, however, is a whole different animal.
So how do I do it? It's a combination of a lot of Internet surfing, being on the mailng lists of ticket sellers, reading Time Out and just generally reading the various free newspapers the increasingly rare times I leave the office early enough to grab one.
Some useful sites I've found which cover everything from the exhibitions to plays to sales to music are Urban Junkies, Flavorpill and Londonist. However, there's always a chance that by tickets would have been sold out by the time a gig makes its way onto these sites. If you're worried this might happen, you should check out IndieLondon's gig guide on a regular basis. I've found it's more comprehensive than Time Out, as Time Out does sometimes suffer from the sold-out syndrome as well.
Daily Candy is quite good for quirky, unusual shops and experiences in London; of course, you do need money to enjoy quite a few of their suggestions, but the layout and design of Daily Candy is so deliciously girly that I just enjoy reading the daily e-mails even if I can't quite afford to partake of some of the activities proposed.
If shopping is more your cup of tea, and you love your brands, then Fashion Confidential's sample sales alert is what you need. Every few weeks or so, you'll receive an e-mail listing the upcoming sample sales for brands such as Ted Baker, Temperley and Biba. Lynku also lists a number of sales.
Of course, it's not cheap indulging in all these activities in London. You'd want to stretch that pound as far as it can go. This is where the Internet comes in handy. Tickets are usually sold by a number of Internet retailers. However, not all of them are priced the same. I have seen tickets selling for £16 on one site retailing for £19.50 on another, despite the fact that the tickets were exactly the same. So if you want to purchase tickets, I would strongly advise you to check the various ticket sites before making your purchase. If all of them are more or less the same price, then perhaps you should go to Gigantic (if it's selling your event) as 10% of the booking fee will be donated to Oxfam, so at least you're contributing to the greater good. If the event is sold out, try Scarlet Mist which is a forum where people sell their spare tickets, but at face value, rather than marking it up as they tend to do over at Seatwave.
When going for a play, check out Theatre Monkey's review of venues which provides seating plans and advice on the best seats for the category you're going for. While this may not help you save money, it does at least help you figure out what you're getting for the money you're paying.
That's all I have for now, and will update this in subsequent posts as and when I come across new sites of interest.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Eat your own ears indeed (otherwise known as why some people back home will want to kill me after seeing this):
Just to clarify - not that I'm going to any of these concerts... yet. The one which I really wanted to go for, Four Tet and James Holden, clashes with the one-time screening of 2 Many DJs' documentary, Part of the Weekend Never Dies, at the Royal Festival Hall.
Just one of the many pleasant conundrums and quandaries faced in any given week in London town.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
The London mayoral elections are on May 1, 2008. As a resident of London, I am entitled to vote. And I will be voting, given that this will be the first chance ever in my life that I have the opportunity to vote on something that will make a difference. Perhaps it's because I have never had the choice to do so in Singapore that I am taking this particularly seriously to the extent that I have gone to Vote Match, scrutinised the positions taken by the various candidates on a number of issues, and decided on a candidate to vote for. Moreover, I have had serious debates with fellow overseas Singaporeans resident in London over why I have made the choice I have.
The two candidates who have by far and away the biggest lead over the rest of the pack are Ken Livingstone, the current Mayor of London, and Boris Johnson, a Tory candidate whose previous positions include editing The Spectactor. It is a sad day indeed when Boris, a confirmed idiot, not just in my eyes, but in the eyes of many, is tied with the incumbent, who has had the benefit of doing the job in question for five years. It just goes to show how thoroughly Ken has messed up over the past few years. True, he has had some successes - the congestion charge being one of them, the way he responded to the July 2005 bombings, uniting a defiant London is another - but the very fact that he's tied - or according to some polls, behind Boris - just illustrates just how much his character defects and failure to keep his campaign promises have damaged his claim to the position.
How on earth could someone who has claimed that he would run London with the help of a panel of advisers but refuses to name that panel until May 2, 2008 (i.e. after he is elected) as it would be "smack of hubris" for him to do so have so many people supporting him? Don't they feel as insulted as I am at the sheer arrogance that Boris is displaying by refusing to let London make an informed decision as to the quality and suitability of his advisers? Boris clearly isn't qualified to lead London on his own. That much can be seen, given his history of general buffonery. Why then should we trust his judgement when it comes to selecting the panel that will be helping to govern London?
That being said, the candidate I plan to vote lacks political experience as well. Still, I'm willing to take a chance on him. The only candidate among those standing with actual experience just hasn't cut the mustard and - to me - doesn't deserve a second term on the basis of his performance. While the candidate I am backing will not win, I feel it is the best avenue I have of expressing my dissatisfaction with the two leading candidates.
I never really thought I would have such a strong opinion on anything this serious given that I'm not the confrontational sort, so this really is a new experience for me.
Related Links
The Observer - Ken has to show the joke will be on London if it elects Boris
The Daily Telegraph's coverage of the Mayor of London elections
The Times - It's Horrid Ken vs. Chaotic Boris
The Independent - The Men Who Would Be Mayor: Power and the People
The two candidates who have by far and away the biggest lead over the rest of the pack are Ken Livingstone, the current Mayor of London, and Boris Johnson, a Tory candidate whose previous positions include editing The Spectactor. It is a sad day indeed when Boris, a confirmed idiot, not just in my eyes, but in the eyes of many, is tied with the incumbent, who has had the benefit of doing the job in question for five years. It just goes to show how thoroughly Ken has messed up over the past few years. True, he has had some successes - the congestion charge being one of them, the way he responded to the July 2005 bombings, uniting a defiant London is another - but the very fact that he's tied - or according to some polls, behind Boris - just illustrates just how much his character defects and failure to keep his campaign promises have damaged his claim to the position.
How on earth could someone who has claimed that he would run London with the help of a panel of advisers but refuses to name that panel until May 2, 2008 (i.e. after he is elected) as it would be "smack of hubris" for him to do so have so many people supporting him? Don't they feel as insulted as I am at the sheer arrogance that Boris is displaying by refusing to let London make an informed decision as to the quality and suitability of his advisers? Boris clearly isn't qualified to lead London on his own. That much can be seen, given his history of general buffonery. Why then should we trust his judgement when it comes to selecting the panel that will be helping to govern London?
That being said, the candidate I plan to vote lacks political experience as well. Still, I'm willing to take a chance on him. The only candidate among those standing with actual experience just hasn't cut the mustard and - to me - doesn't deserve a second term on the basis of his performance. While the candidate I am backing will not win, I feel it is the best avenue I have of expressing my dissatisfaction with the two leading candidates.
I never really thought I would have such a strong opinion on anything this serious given that I'm not the confrontational sort, so this really is a new experience for me.
Related Links
The Observer - Ken has to show the joke will be on London if it elects Boris
The Daily Telegraph's coverage of the Mayor of London elections
The Times - It's Horrid Ken vs. Chaotic Boris
The Independent - The Men Who Would Be Mayor: Power and the People
Monday, April 07, 2008
From 17 degrees on Friday (people were actually sitting out on the grass patches drinking beer as I was headed home at 7.3o pm) to sub-zero temperatures on Saturday and a whole morning full of snow on Sunday... such is the fickleness of London weather.
Spotted: Rainbow on Saturday evening
Snow on Sunday morning
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Clash Club presents The Guillemots at 93 Feet East was well worth the £8 cost of admission. They're not a band I would ordinarily have discovered had it not been for a birthday gift from T. two years back, who felt that it would be something I'd enjoy. He, as usual, was right. There aren't too many people whose musical tastes I would trust, but T., M. and M. are right up there when it comes to knowing good music when they hear it.
Anyway, when I heard the news that the secret headliner of Clash Club Returns would be The Guillemots, I immediately went and purchased advanced tickets just to guarantee entry. London's quite a bit different from Singapore in that everyone buys tickets way in advance here (mostly scalpers and touts trying to arbitrage the tickets, I suspect) while in Singapore, everyone seems to wait until the last minute, just so that they can confirm that they are indeed free to see the gig. Both are annoying in their own way, as the London way means that waiting for someone to confirm whether they can go with you may result in tickets being sold out by the time that person confirms (*grumbles* Turnmills' The Last Dance being one which I sorely regret not purchasing when I saw tickets available as they were sold out in 24 hours) while the Singapore way means... well, not knowing for sure whether you'll be going at all.
Owing to a prior commitment, I got to 93 Feet East at 10.15 pm, a little fearful that the club venue would be full up and that I would be forced to spend the rest of the night in the DJ room. Thankfully, that wasn't the case and I managed to get a spot in the middle of the room. Thanks to my height, standing close to the stage isn't encouraged as I'll get a neckache from looking up at the stage after 10 minutes, not to mention the hazard of potential spontaneous moshing that tends to break out in the front of the crowd.
I proceeded to wait, all by my lonesome, a bottle of Sol in hand until 11 pm for the band to come on. I hate waiting, but it's a necessary evil. And while I had the feeling that the gig, especially in such an intimate setting, would be good, waiting over half an hour in the hot, stuffy, crowded room slowly began to erode the good vibes I had about the gig. This wasn't exactly helped by the first song of the The Guillemots' set. It was decent, but it wasn't great. The woman beside me evidentally felt so, as she yelled, "That was shit!" and promptly left.
The second song wasn't too good either but again, it was decent. By this time, I was wondering whether I'd made an error, and whether all the fantastic reviews I'd read about their new album, Red, were horribly wrong. Then they launched into Made Up Love Song #43 off Through the Windowpane and it was absolutely wonderful. It's got a great, happy, instrumental melody which goes from quietly simple to nicely jangly, which I'm sure regular readers will have noticed I so love, and incredibly quirky lyrics (totally catching my attention with the opening lyrics "I love you through sparks and shining dragons, I do"). If only I could find a guy who made me feel the way this song captures...
This was followed by another song about relationships, Words (off Red), which is nicely listenable, and definitely a little more mainstream and commercial than the three tunes played previously, and should be one of the hits off the album. Words is a sad, poignant song about how miscommunication contributed towards a break-up (with lyrics such as "I think life would be so much easier if I was half-drunk and mad"), and stood in stark contrast to the celebration about being in love which preceded it.
The Guillemots' next track was Get Over It, their first single off Red, which struck me as being rather reminiscent of James - Sit Down and Blur - Song 2 (if that sounds odd, then let me clarify by saying it's more 80% James, and 20% Blur). It's really big in an anthemic kind of way and infectious as hell.
I suppose, given the order of these three tracks (being in love, breaking up and then getting over it) that one could almost see some kind of theme. Deliberate? Who knows these days?
At this point in time, I can't for the life of me figure out what song they played. I jotted down a couple of the lyrics I heard, but can't seem to find out what it is, which really annoys me because it's the only song missing in the set list I noted from when the set got really interesting. You'll just have to bear the frustration of missing out on what song #6 was until I manage to track down a set list.
Song #7 - Trains to Brazil, off Through the Windowpane - was most definitely the highlight of the night for me. Like most of the band's great tracks, the song makes great use of various instruments, starting off improbably upbeat with a great drum snare and kick, a hauntingly poignant theremin which grounds the bounciness of the tune, and has a great jazzy saxophone-led break in-between. Lyrically, the song works quite nicely as well. Written in the wake of the London bombings in 2006, Fyfe just exhorts the listener to enjoy life ("Can’t you live and be thankful you’re here? / See it could be you tomorrow, next year"). It just made me want to dance. In fact, it sounded like a great song to lindy to. Maybe I'll get the chance to try that out some day.
The last track of the night turned out to be an epic, Sao Paulo, again off Through the Windowpane. It's 12 minutes long and, with the variety of instruments, melodies and moods present in this tune, could have been two songs. In fact, I thought it was it was two different songs and that they had thrown in the second part as an encore, that's how different it sounded. It's an epic which starts off quite classical with shades of Sigur Ros but much better, before turning into an indie rock album in the second half. Sao Paulo demonstrated the vast range of the band's musical abilities and was definitely a good choice to end off the set with (although, given the length of the song, it would be difficult to put it in any other part of a concert, to be quite honest).
So, by this time, you might be asking, "Who the heck are the Guillemots?", as well as "What kind of a name is the Guillemots and how on earth do you pronounce it?". Let me answer the second question first. Apparently, guillemots are a kind of sea bird. And it's pronounced "gi-le-mots", exactly how it looks, and not at all French-ified as I originally thought. The Guillemots is a quartet, led by the improbably-named lead singer Fyfe Dangerfield. Fyfe is a classically trained multi-instrumentalist who has perfect pitch, according to The Independent. Other members of the band include MC Lord Magrao (a former death metal guitarist), Aristazabal Hawkes (a classically trained double-bass player) and guitarist Greig Stewart (who used to play with trad-folk bands in Scotland). The wide range of musical backgrounds and abilities plays a large part in the band's songs, and it is a real pleasure to see them live, watching them swap instruments effortlessly and seamlessly. Yet, in spite of the ridiculous amount of talent the band clearly possesses, they never let it get in the way of the song. It never feels as if they're trying to show off, and it's just wonderful.
The Guillemots play at The Forum in London on June 4, 2008 (way too close to my exam). If you're free, go catch them. If you're not, cancel the conflicting appointment and go any way. Get your tickets through Sandbag Tickets for £16.50 + booking fee (Ticketmaster and See Tickets charge an astounding £21.25 and £24.50 per ticket respectively after adding on all the various fees).
Related Links
La Blogotheque #25.2: The Guillemots - Made Up Love Song #43: Amazing French site La Blogotheque makes featured artistes play live on the streets of Paris as part of its Concert a Emporter series (Take Away Shows). Watching Fyfe Dangerfield walking down the streets playing on his guitar, and then meeting up with the rest of his bandmates... it's so beautiful I almost cried. Check out #25.3 - Annie Let's Not Wait as well.
The Guillemots - Trains to Brazil (acoustic): As you can tell, I absolutely loved Trains to Brazil when they performed it last night. The acoustic version tops it, something which I didn't quite think was possible. Without the bouncy, jangly melody provided by the usual instrumental accompaniments, it sounds quite different. Add to that, it's beautifully mesmerising seeing how engrossed in the music Fyfe is.
The Guillemots cover The Streets - Never Went To Church: At Mike Skinner's request, the band covered his incredibly personal tribute to his father following his father's death. I quite liked The Streets - Dry Your Eyes, which talked about a break-up (and got a lot of airplay in my household when I went through a break-up the year after), but somehow, couldn't quite get into Never Went To Church. I acknowledge the pain Mike feels, but it does seem a little too sappy for my liking. In the hands of Fyfe Dangerfield though, it gets turned into a piece of orchestral majesty, so much better than the original version.
Anyway, when I heard the news that the secret headliner of Clash Club Returns would be The Guillemots, I immediately went and purchased advanced tickets just to guarantee entry. London's quite a bit different from Singapore in that everyone buys tickets way in advance here (mostly scalpers and touts trying to arbitrage the tickets, I suspect) while in Singapore, everyone seems to wait until the last minute, just so that they can confirm that they are indeed free to see the gig. Both are annoying in their own way, as the London way means that waiting for someone to confirm whether they can go with you may result in tickets being sold out by the time that person confirms (*grumbles* Turnmills' The Last Dance being one which I sorely regret not purchasing when I saw tickets available as they were sold out in 24 hours) while the Singapore way means... well, not knowing for sure whether you'll be going at all.
Owing to a prior commitment, I got to 93 Feet East at 10.15 pm, a little fearful that the club venue would be full up and that I would be forced to spend the rest of the night in the DJ room. Thankfully, that wasn't the case and I managed to get a spot in the middle of the room. Thanks to my height, standing close to the stage isn't encouraged as I'll get a neckache from looking up at the stage after 10 minutes, not to mention the hazard of potential spontaneous moshing that tends to break out in the front of the crowd.
I proceeded to wait, all by my lonesome, a bottle of Sol in hand until 11 pm for the band to come on. I hate waiting, but it's a necessary evil. And while I had the feeling that the gig, especially in such an intimate setting, would be good, waiting over half an hour in the hot, stuffy, crowded room slowly began to erode the good vibes I had about the gig. This wasn't exactly helped by the first song of the The Guillemots' set. It was decent, but it wasn't great. The woman beside me evidentally felt so, as she yelled, "That was shit!" and promptly left.
The second song wasn't too good either but again, it was decent. By this time, I was wondering whether I'd made an error, and whether all the fantastic reviews I'd read about their new album, Red, were horribly wrong. Then they launched into Made Up Love Song #43 off Through the Windowpane and it was absolutely wonderful. It's got a great, happy, instrumental melody which goes from quietly simple to nicely jangly, which I'm sure regular readers will have noticed I so love, and incredibly quirky lyrics (totally catching my attention with the opening lyrics "I love you through sparks and shining dragons, I do"). If only I could find a guy who made me feel the way this song captures...
This was followed by another song about relationships, Words (off Red), which is nicely listenable, and definitely a little more mainstream and commercial than the three tunes played previously, and should be one of the hits off the album. Words is a sad, poignant song about how miscommunication contributed towards a break-up (with lyrics such as "I think life would be so much easier if I was half-drunk and mad"), and stood in stark contrast to the celebration about being in love which preceded it.
The Guillemots' next track was Get Over It, their first single off Red, which struck me as being rather reminiscent of James - Sit Down and Blur - Song 2 (if that sounds odd, then let me clarify by saying it's more 80% James, and 20% Blur). It's really big in an anthemic kind of way and infectious as hell.
I suppose, given the order of these three tracks (being in love, breaking up and then getting over it) that one could almost see some kind of theme. Deliberate? Who knows these days?
At this point in time, I can't for the life of me figure out what song they played. I jotted down a couple of the lyrics I heard, but can't seem to find out what it is, which really annoys me because it's the only song missing in the set list I noted from when the set got really interesting. You'll just have to bear the frustration of missing out on what song #6 was until I manage to track down a set list.
Song #7 - Trains to Brazil, off Through the Windowpane - was most definitely the highlight of the night for me. Like most of the band's great tracks, the song makes great use of various instruments, starting off improbably upbeat with a great drum snare and kick, a hauntingly poignant theremin which grounds the bounciness of the tune, and has a great jazzy saxophone-led break in-between. Lyrically, the song works quite nicely as well. Written in the wake of the London bombings in 2006, Fyfe just exhorts the listener to enjoy life ("Can’t you live and be thankful you’re here? / See it could be you tomorrow, next year"). It just made me want to dance. In fact, it sounded like a great song to lindy to. Maybe I'll get the chance to try that out some day.
The last track of the night turned out to be an epic, Sao Paulo, again off Through the Windowpane. It's 12 minutes long and, with the variety of instruments, melodies and moods present in this tune, could have been two songs. In fact, I thought it was it was two different songs and that they had thrown in the second part as an encore, that's how different it sounded. It's an epic which starts off quite classical with shades of Sigur Ros but much better, before turning into an indie rock album in the second half. Sao Paulo demonstrated the vast range of the band's musical abilities and was definitely a good choice to end off the set with (although, given the length of the song, it would be difficult to put it in any other part of a concert, to be quite honest).
So, by this time, you might be asking, "Who the heck are the Guillemots?", as well as "What kind of a name is the Guillemots and how on earth do you pronounce it?". Let me answer the second question first. Apparently, guillemots are a kind of sea bird. And it's pronounced "gi-le-mots", exactly how it looks, and not at all French-ified as I originally thought. The Guillemots is a quartet, led by the improbably-named lead singer Fyfe Dangerfield. Fyfe is a classically trained multi-instrumentalist who has perfect pitch, according to The Independent. Other members of the band include MC Lord Magrao (a former death metal guitarist), Aristazabal Hawkes (a classically trained double-bass player) and guitarist Greig Stewart (who used to play with trad-folk bands in Scotland). The wide range of musical backgrounds and abilities plays a large part in the band's songs, and it is a real pleasure to see them live, watching them swap instruments effortlessly and seamlessly. Yet, in spite of the ridiculous amount of talent the band clearly possesses, they never let it get in the way of the song. It never feels as if they're trying to show off, and it's just wonderful.
The Guillemots play at The Forum in London on June 4, 2008 (way too close to my exam). If you're free, go catch them. If you're not, cancel the conflicting appointment and go any way. Get your tickets through Sandbag Tickets for £16.50 + booking fee (Ticketmaster and See Tickets charge an astounding £21.25 and £24.50 per ticket respectively after adding on all the various fees).
Related Links
La Blogotheque #25.2: The Guillemots - Made Up Love Song #43: Amazing French site La Blogotheque makes featured artistes play live on the streets of Paris as part of its Concert a Emporter series (Take Away Shows). Watching Fyfe Dangerfield walking down the streets playing on his guitar, and then meeting up with the rest of his bandmates... it's so beautiful I almost cried. Check out #25.3 - Annie Let's Not Wait as well.
The Guillemots - Trains to Brazil (acoustic): As you can tell, I absolutely loved Trains to Brazil when they performed it last night. The acoustic version tops it, something which I didn't quite think was possible. Without the bouncy, jangly melody provided by the usual instrumental accompaniments, it sounds quite different. Add to that, it's beautifully mesmerising seeing how engrossed in the music Fyfe is.
The Guillemots cover The Streets - Never Went To Church: At Mike Skinner's request, the band covered his incredibly personal tribute to his father following his father's death. I quite liked The Streets - Dry Your Eyes, which talked about a break-up (and got a lot of airplay in my household when I went through a break-up the year after), but somehow, couldn't quite get into Never Went To Church. I acknowledge the pain Mike feels, but it does seem a little too sappy for my liking. In the hands of Fyfe Dangerfield though, it gets turned into a piece of orchestral majesty, so much better than the original version.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Moving abroad has certainly made everything that much more complicated. It seems like I have had to make decisions on everything, from where to stay to which utility provider I should use (water, electricity, telephone and Internet) to which gig I should attend (as some really good ones do clash, such as Soulwax and Four Tet on April 24, 2008) to where I should invest my money. This post is primarily concerned with the last question.
Over the last few weeks, I have had to decide where to invest (i) my CPF with the recent change in CPF regulation, (ii) my UK pension and (iii) my ISA allowance (a tax-free wrapper account for those resident in the UK). Thanks to my brilliant financial adviser back home, (i) was settled very quickly. It helps that my investment time frame is over 20 years because I don't foresee any need for the money in the short-term, and with that long an investment horizon, your investments usually will give you better than average returns compared to say, cash and bonds. In the mean time, if I ever feel the need to purchase property in Singapore, I hope I would have enough in my regular savings by then to be able to fund the deposit!
In the case of (ii) and (iii), I didn't have the luxury of an adviser... not to mention the fact that the choice of investments here can be, quite frankly, rather overwhelming. In terms of open-ended investment companies (OEICs, similar to unit trusts, except that they are incorporated, and therefore, not a trust), there are so many different fund managers to choose from. Then when you throw in the various asset classes and market sectors, it all gets a bit much. I'm not investing a great deal of money (certainly not enough to be warrant hiring a financial adviser) but still, it is my money and I get a bit iffy at the thought of potentially losing, well, anything, in spite of the fact that my ability and willingness to take risk is generally regarded as being on the high end.
Today being the last day to invest my ISA allowance for 2007/8, I was rather tempted to just let the deadline slip and not bother. However, I'm aware that the tax-free allowance does add up (although, mind you, it took me quite a few weeks to realise that the allowances accumulate, and are not an absolute amount for each year). In addition, as I'm studying for the CFA accreditation now, I couldn't in good conscience forego the allowance just 'cos I couldn't be arsed to pick up the phone. I mean, if the CFA Institute ever learnt of it, I might be disbarred!
I am kidding, of course. The CFA Code of Ethics may be a strict and puzzling one, but it ain't that draconian.
Anyway, with that in mind, I forced myself to call one of the established fund supermarkets here so that I could open an account. It was surprisingly quick and while I was a little disappointed that I had to invest a minimum of £1,000 in a single fund, rather than have an absolute total of £1,000 spread out over several funds, I was happy that the minimum investment was lower than the £3,000 needed to open the account online.
So, over the next few weeks, I'll be topping up my account, as well as diversifying from the one fund I put my initial investment in. I'm kind of excited at the funds I intend to invest in, though given the market volatility since the beginning of the year, I have to confess a certain amount of trepidation, even if I acknowledge that with my long-term time frame for my cash investments, the investments will definitely gain more than if I had put it in a savings account.
I realise that it must be the saddest thing in the world if I'm excited about the prospect of taking charge of my investments, but it does feel rather empowering. Living on my own, doing my own household chores, investing my own money, having no dependents and commitments (yet) and being beholden to no one... it's all rather exhilarating in a scary kind of way!
Over the last few weeks, I have had to decide where to invest (i) my CPF with the recent change in CPF regulation, (ii) my UK pension and (iii) my ISA allowance (a tax-free wrapper account for those resident in the UK). Thanks to my brilliant financial adviser back home, (i) was settled very quickly. It helps that my investment time frame is over 20 years because I don't foresee any need for the money in the short-term, and with that long an investment horizon, your investments usually will give you better than average returns compared to say, cash and bonds. In the mean time, if I ever feel the need to purchase property in Singapore, I hope I would have enough in my regular savings by then to be able to fund the deposit!
In the case of (ii) and (iii), I didn't have the luxury of an adviser... not to mention the fact that the choice of investments here can be, quite frankly, rather overwhelming. In terms of open-ended investment companies (OEICs, similar to unit trusts, except that they are incorporated, and therefore, not a trust), there are so many different fund managers to choose from. Then when you throw in the various asset classes and market sectors, it all gets a bit much. I'm not investing a great deal of money (certainly not enough to be warrant hiring a financial adviser) but still, it is my money and I get a bit iffy at the thought of potentially losing, well, anything, in spite of the fact that my ability and willingness to take risk is generally regarded as being on the high end.
Today being the last day to invest my ISA allowance for 2007/8, I was rather tempted to just let the deadline slip and not bother. However, I'm aware that the tax-free allowance does add up (although, mind you, it took me quite a few weeks to realise that the allowances accumulate, and are not an absolute amount for each year). In addition, as I'm studying for the CFA accreditation now, I couldn't in good conscience forego the allowance just 'cos I couldn't be arsed to pick up the phone. I mean, if the CFA Institute ever learnt of it, I might be disbarred!
I am kidding, of course. The CFA Code of Ethics may be a strict and puzzling one, but it ain't that draconian.
Anyway, with that in mind, I forced myself to call one of the established fund supermarkets here so that I could open an account. It was surprisingly quick and while I was a little disappointed that I had to invest a minimum of £1,000 in a single fund, rather than have an absolute total of £1,000 spread out over several funds, I was happy that the minimum investment was lower than the £3,000 needed to open the account online.
So, over the next few weeks, I'll be topping up my account, as well as diversifying from the one fund I put my initial investment in. I'm kind of excited at the funds I intend to invest in, though given the market volatility since the beginning of the year, I have to confess a certain amount of trepidation, even if I acknowledge that with my long-term time frame for my cash investments, the investments will definitely gain more than if I had put it in a savings account.
I realise that it must be the saddest thing in the world if I'm excited about the prospect of taking charge of my investments, but it does feel rather empowering. Living on my own, doing my own household chores, investing my own money, having no dependents and commitments (yet) and being beholden to no one... it's all rather exhilarating in a scary kind of way!
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Recent posts would suggest that I am thoroughly infatuated with the Lad. All I can say, in my usual long-winded way, is that that is not an inaccurate statement.
It used to be that he would brighten up the later part of my week but I would be able to leave for the weekend, get on with my life and come back in on Monday, with my crush at a manageable level, having been free of him for two whole days.
But one fine Friday evening, that all changed. By that time, I had realised that this wasn't just an ordinary office crush, which is, I'm told, fairly common and actually quite pleasant because it makes you look forward to going to work, but doesn't really affect you to any other degree. This, however seems to be something which had the potential to make my going to the office both a pleasure and a pain simultaneously. As I mentioned before, it does make going to work a less torturous experience, but what's the point if I know nothing can ever come of it?
Anyway, that Friday, the Lad had a party to go to and changed into his civilian clothing before leaving for the day. When he reappeared in his fitting (but not at all in a gay way) t-shirt and jeans combo, I was thoroughly bowled over. This was, quite naturally, rather different compared to our usual office gear. But more to the point, he looked absolutely stunning. His body looked fantastic, and his arms, a part never usually seen bare because office dress codes dictate that long-sleeve shirts are in order, were nicely muscular. I was gobsmacked. I knew he was fit (he goes to the gym quite often and does sports as well) but had never actually seen the evidence presented quite so boldly before.
It would be no exaggeration for me to state that he, looking as fantastic as he did that night, took my breath away. I stood there for a while, quietly admiring the view while he chatted with the other guys in the office.
And then I collected myself, realised what I was doing, and the effect he was having on me, and went "Oh s***. This is not good," grabbed my things and left the office as quickly as I could.
It used to be that he would brighten up the later part of my week but I would be able to leave for the weekend, get on with my life and come back in on Monday, with my crush at a manageable level, having been free of him for two whole days.
But one fine Friday evening, that all changed. By that time, I had realised that this wasn't just an ordinary office crush, which is, I'm told, fairly common and actually quite pleasant because it makes you look forward to going to work, but doesn't really affect you to any other degree. This, however seems to be something which had the potential to make my going to the office both a pleasure and a pain simultaneously. As I mentioned before, it does make going to work a less torturous experience, but what's the point if I know nothing can ever come of it?
Anyway, that Friday, the Lad had a party to go to and changed into his civilian clothing before leaving for the day. When he reappeared in his fitting (but not at all in a gay way) t-shirt and jeans combo, I was thoroughly bowled over. This was, quite naturally, rather different compared to our usual office gear. But more to the point, he looked absolutely stunning. His body looked fantastic, and his arms, a part never usually seen bare because office dress codes dictate that long-sleeve shirts are in order, were nicely muscular. I was gobsmacked. I knew he was fit (he goes to the gym quite often and does sports as well) but had never actually seen the evidence presented quite so boldly before.
It would be no exaggeration for me to state that he, looking as fantastic as he did that night, took my breath away. I stood there for a while, quietly admiring the view while he chatted with the other guys in the office.
And then I collected myself, realised what I was doing, and the effect he was having on me, and went "Oh s***. This is not good," grabbed my things and left the office as quickly as I could.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
How insanely talented is Cristiano Ronaldo? He's an arrogant young pup, yes... and I'm so glad he's on my team!
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