Perfect Circle

It comes but once a year. Yes! It was Record Store Day 2019 and me and my merry band of pranksters were on the hunt for overpriced vinyl! There had been some discussion as to whether we were going top Aberdare or Newport. Steve Dixon had been making the case for Aberdare, but I am a creature of habit and despite hearing that Diverse weren’t getting as much in this year, their list was pretty impressive. Steve D had also made noises that he was going to duck out this year, but on a trip to Rough Trade in Bristol to see an excellent Fontaines D.C in-store I convinced him to come along for the laffs. he said he wasn’t going to buy anything. Yeah, right. Anyway it wouldn’t feel like Record Store Day now without Steve D.

So as per we joined Steve Ford and Mike for the drive down to Newport and freezing O’Clock, and blimey it was bastard cold. I swear we were stood in the exact same place that we were last year, pretty close to the front and but not ridiculously eager. As has become the new tradition i didn’t think it was a bumper year, but had been strategic when I’d made up my list. Yes, list. A CSNY live album was £50 so I Spotimified it adn didn’t think it was £50 good, which freed my cash up for other stuff. I couldn’t find the fucking list when Steve Ford turned up so went through the releases in the car on the way down and remembered that the firs Soccer mommy EP was out. She’d ‘Clean’ my favourite album of last year, so that went on the list along with the Bingo Hand Job (R.E.M bootleg), the first This is the Kit album, the first Frank Black album, an Idles EP and a Kristin Hersh album amongst a few other things.

Of course the best thing about RSD is yapping with the Steve’s and Mike. There were many yuks as we shivered, we took turns at getting coffee, and lordy lord I couldn’t stop going to the bog. To the extent that when we right at the front of the queue i asked the owner of Diverse if I could pop across the road for a slash. I had time just before we were let in. I didn’t want to be jumping from foot to foot when I was in the store.

Mike and I were let in soon after 9 and I got seized by RSD panic and confusion, while Mike kept a cool head and snagged the one ‘Bingo Hand Job’ copy. The only thing I could find on my list was the Soccer Mommy EP, but when the Steves got let in I gradually got handed and found all the others. We’d agreed if we found something that the others wanted that we’d hand it over and that worked like a peach. Diverse even gave me a fiver off the This is the Kit album cause it had a crease in the corner. Steve Ford only fancied the ‘Black Mirror’ soundtrack and Steve D ended up getting more than him, cough. We had time to pop down to Newport market’s second hand record stall where i picked up a reissue of ‘Tommy’ by The Wedding Present and then when we got back to Cardiff I was like a crate digging ninja and shot into D’Vinyl’s for the 50% off sale and picked up a heavy weight reissue of ‘Never mind the Bollocks’ inexplicably still in the shrink wrap and a copy of Bowie’s ‘Lodger’ for next to nothing. It looks like shit but plays well.

The cherry on the RSD cake was that Mike was then able to pick up a copy of ‘Bingo Hand Job’ at another record shop. So a great Record Store Day where I stayed comfortably within my budget and had lots of laffs and I’ve just managed to defrost.

People have the power

It’s been odd that being an enforced man of leisure again that I haven’t updated my blog more. So I round up up of what I should have blogged about.

First and foremost Sian and I went on the ‘People’s Vote’ march in London. When the result of the referendum was announced I was disappointed and resigned to us leaving the UK. I doubt if anyone could have predicated two years ago what would have unfolded. I’ve felt largely powerless in what’s happened since. So when Sian suggested we go on the march it felt like doing something positive against a mountain of negativity.

There were chartered buses leaving from Cardiff, but they were full so we got the Megasbus at stupid O Clock which was still rammed. It was a bright, sunny day in London and European flags increased in evidence as we got closer to Hyde Park. The Park was busy and there was a buzz of nervous excitement as people gathered. Insanely we bumped into a mate who was also going on the march. Later we’d try and meet up but the sheer amount of people made it impossible. We got nearish to the front, listened to some speeches and then sorta shuffled off. I was surprised at the demographic of the march as there were a lot of 50+ people, which was good to see.

The good natured march snaked slowly through London, occasionally chanting, one of my favourites being:
”What do we want?”
”Brexit!”
”…errrr, (pause ) I don’t think that’s what we want.”

And there were a group of young girls on some scaffolding who got my section of the march shouting:
”Bollocks to Brexit!”

I’d never quite seen central London like that, it was virtually at a stand still, it was quite a sight. There was an estimate of a million plus people being on the march, but everyone was having a good time and getting along. I think many were there show a very visible disagreement to what’s happening. Sian and I didn’t get to Parliament Square in time to see the speeches, we were within sight of Big Ben where signs were thanking people and wishing them a safe journey home. We bailed at the Embankment Tube and managed to have a much needed sit down at Paddington, after walking for six hours my back was in half.

It was very positive thing to be part of. As my mate Steve O’Brien said shortly after I hadn’t given the EU much thought before the referendum but subsequent to the march I’ve had to dig for some facts to back up my opinions, which is no bad thing. I don’t think anyone really knows how this will all end,

Runaway

Part of the ennui I’ve been feeling this year has extended to my running. Yet again I’m trying to get a sub-three hour time in the Newport marathon. The training for this goal has been brutal and it hasn’t gone well. This is partly because with the marathon being in May i thought I could leave it a bit longer before I kicked the booze into touch, in retrospect I should have gone on the wagon on New Year’s Day. Also two days into 2019 I came down with a bad cold which I couldn’t shift for two weeks. I had to skip some training runs, and my old calf injury has also flared up and just to add to the giggles I picked up another cold around a fortnight ago.

So yes, it’s been frustrating, I haven’t come close to the pace I need for the marathon. I’ve dragged myself out for the runs even knowing that they’re probably going to be a grind. I suspect that’s what differentiates some who runs from a runner. Yes that comes across as smug, but last Sunday when I was on the Taff Trail on around mile 14, clomping along with my back in half something kept me going.

I’ve been hoping that the training would snap into place. I’ve got to be comfortable running at 6:40 and I haven’t come anywhere near that. My long Sunday run involves running 6 of the miles at the marathon pace, so I decided to invest in some isotonic powder to mix with my water, some energy bars and recovery drink. I’ve tried to stay away from the isotonic drinks cause they’ve had some - errr - detrimental effects on me on the past but I needed some advantage.

I faffed around putting the long run off especially as the weather was filthy, but eventually I dragged myself out. It didn’t look good initially. I had to stop twice on the first marathon mile as I was coughing so much gunk up (sorry to be indelicate), but after that it picked up. I got soaked, dry, wet again then sorta damp. I ran out to past the Radyr Weir and actually didn’t feel too bad. I felt better in the second half of the run than I did at the beginning and actually had something left in the tank at the end of the run.

Subsequent to this blog my time had started to get better, I bought new daps and my lower back pain was manageable. I was getting closer to my marathon pace as my training started to taper. However in the last week I’ve caught another bloody cold and come down with a bout of food poisoning. This has meant that I’ve missed another two running days. I don’t think is is my year for the sub three hour marathon…

You can't always get what you want

I have of late been at a low ebb. The contract role I’d been in for the last two years which gave me some much needed stability came to an end last month. Since then I’ve been a bit rudderless. I do like a routine, partly because it gives me a foundation to be able to bounce around doing all various activities. It’s only been twenty two days but I’m feeling more than a little lost.

Which means it takes an extra effort to be creative. I was contemplating not submitting to the RA Summer Exhibition for my annual rejection. I’d picked up from the last two years that the RA do like a call back to art history and a visual joke, which gave me an idea based around The Death of Marat  by Jacques-Louis David. It’s a very different direction to my usual work, I had a few passes at it, then run out of time. I finished the version above but still can’t tell if it’s shit. I would be amazed if it even got short listed if I’m honest. I should have given myself the time to have another pass at it.

The Man Don't Give A Fuck

There is something rotten in the heart of Cardiff. The fundamental character of the city is being torn apart by developers. Huge swathes of buildings and streets dating back centuries are being knocked down and bulldozed to make way for car parks and ‘student accommodation’, most of which will be a quarter full at best. The ‘student accommodation’ is then changed to luxury ‘executive apartments’, thus circumventing costly regulations. While just yards away people live in tents mushrooming on the moldering central Queen Street. The student accommodation scam is an open secret and is a disgrace.

The student accommodation scam is an open secret and is a disgrace.

The latest sacrifice to Mammon is Guilford Crescent. The Rapport Family - who own the buildings and knocked down the historic and scary Vulcan pub - are knocking it down just ahead of it being granted conversation status. The Crescent has a Masonic Lodge on it (The Lodge is already a listed building so the Grand Hob Goblin can sleep well at night) the Maderia restaurant, the Thai House and the GiwidHu.

The GwidiHu is very dear to my heart and to many people around the city. I’ve been to many many gigs and had a significant birthday there. It’s a great, colorful friendly space, a bit arty and independent which is becoming a rarity in the increasingly homogenized Cardiff (they’ve never managed to sort the toilets out mind). The demolition has been delayed for two months but already it’s too late for the businesses.

It felt important to show support and concern over what’s happening. Daniel Minty - a Cardiff music promoter - had organised a march last Saturday. Sian and I were still shrugging off a cold but joined at the start in Womaby Street. It was a joyous affair and we not only bumped into both sets of neighbors but also saw friends as the march snaked through Queen Street to Guildford Crescent. It felt like a larger turn out that the Womaby Street march which is impressive for a cold Saturday afternoon in January.

Naturally the march ended in Guilford Crescent, where we treated to a number of speakers including Minty, the owner of the Thai House and the GwidiHu, Jo Stevens the Labor MP for Cardiff Central and Tali Källström the lead singer from The Estrons. All the speakers were sincere, passionate and eloquent, Tali especially emphasizing the importance of small venues for breaking new bands.

I was a bit more optimistic coming away from the march. It feels like a spotlight has been shone on some very reprehensible activities. It’s too late for the current business on Guildford Crescent, so although we’ve lost the battle could we still win the war? The GwidiHu is going to relocate and start up a crowdfunding campaign which I’m gonna support.

My first gig of 2019 will be my final gig at the current incarnation of the GwidiHu, which a fundraiser tomorrow with a lineup of local bands. It’s gonna be a bitter sweet night.

Eye of the Tiger

 The classy move would have been for the Rocky franchise to bow out with ‘Creed’. That film was way better than it had any right to be. It also has one of my favourite scenes in the series where Adonis, Creed and Bianca are jubilant after his first professional win and decide to go and celebrate. The next scene finds all three asleep in front of a Bond film with a half finished take away on the table. The film also provided a great exit for Rocky. So I was a bit ambivalent when I read there was to be a ‘Creed II’ until it was announced that Ivan Drago from Rocky IV was coming back, “Fuck! When’s it out?”.

I really love the Rocky films, and not in an ironic hipster way (well maybe a little bit). The first film is a very solid, finely crafted story doomed always to be in the shadow of ‘Raging Bull’ (justifiably).  As the series went on the films became increasingly ridiculous, but more fun and crammed full of montages. In preparation for "‘Creed II’ I re-watched Rocky IV which has four montages, count um! Four! That film is probably the reason I have an obsession for over training and growing beards. ‘Rocky V’ is a low point of the series and the one I’ve watched the least, I will have to revisit it soon, in case I’ve done it a disservice, I doubt it though.   I was happy when the comeback film ‘Rocky Balboa’ was announced in 2006. It’s far from perfect - it’s central conceit is pretty farcical - but it had a very satisfying emotional centre, it showed the characters moving on and dealing with grief and old age. It provided a more fitting end to the series than ‘Rocky V’, but if there’s one thing you learn about Rocky it’s never to count him out, sorry.

’Creed’ not only managed to revive a series everyone thought was dead, it treated the legacy of the films with creativity and respect. This is something that ‘Creed II’ shares with it’s predecessor. Bringing Ivan Drago back with his son Scouly Drago in tow makes perfect sense and does provide the film with an emotional gravitas.  Dolph Lundgren is very impressive as the older Drago who manages to look both world weary and bitter at his country and wife  for turning their back on him, while still showing the gimlet eyed steel on occasion from ‘Rocky IV’. Although there is scene right at the end of the film where Lundgren is running with Scowly and Lundgren has a very odd running style, it looks like he’s doing the Lambeth walk.

Many of the Rocky tropes are all in ‘Creed II’ including the training montage (Horrah!) and the ‘I’m not gonna train ya!’/’I am gonna train ya!’ push and pull. The film is hardly original, but who knew a towel could have such emotional weight?  It gives the structures of the previous Rocky films a new gum shield and shorts and sends it back into the ring, but blimey it punches above it's weight, sorry. Me and my best mate Matthew Hampton were pretty much laughing with glee during the final bout and when they (cynically?) drop the Rocky theme in during round 10 I want to get up and punch the air!

’The Godather’ it ain’t, but there’s enough intelligentially handled callbacks to make this fanboy very happy. To be honest I’d go back and see it again today if I could.

Too Real

I had to drag myself out to the Fontaines D.C. gig last night. It was a sold out gig at The Moon and earlier I’d been for a 10 and a half mile run. It felt good to stretch my legs but it did have the knock on affect that my nose started to run in sympathy.

It was my de facto gig kemosabe Steve Dixon’s idea to go. I didn’t know the bad that much, although I had heard a track or two on 6 Music. We cycled down and stopped in the nearby Wetherspoons for a snifter cause the booze in The Moon is pretty scarce.

The venue was rammed and we got in in time to see the last four songs of the support band. For the life of me I can’t remember what they were called but they were decent in a Joy Division type of way.  Fontaines D.C took the stage soon after. The gimlet eyed looked pretty well refreshed before he took to the mike, but he was very intense and focussed. Blow me if Big Jeff wasn’t down the front! Second time I’ve seen him at a Cardiff gig this year, the first being the Orielles. You know you’ve made the right gig choice if you see Jeff there, I found out subsequently that Jeff has seen them six times, blimey!

I’m having to get used to the idea that most new bands I see these days are younger than most of my nephews, but even at this gig I was far from the oldest member of the audience. Everyone seemed to have had a couple of drinks (including me) and were having a good time. The lead singer kept pushing up at the low celling of the stage as he looked out at the crowd and gave Jeff a high five.  The band themselves are very much in the Idles/Slaves mould. Cause the band are from Ireland would be lazy to say that they had elements of the Undertones in the mix? Yeah, probably, but there was that spikey energy to them.

A great packed end to my 2018 gig campaign.

Pussycat

Upon reflection I shouldn’t have had that third pint. I went along to Clwb Ifor to see Pip Bloom. I wanted to see the support band Cardiff’s Big Time ‘cause my mate Jas has said good things about them and I nearly put them on as a support earlier this year. I thought they were gonna be a lot more Shoe Gazey but they were actually quite jangly. Very good they were too. Very accomplished, I’d definitely give them a punt again. The promoter hadn’t shared the stage times which was a pisser but I did manage to get there right on time. I was in the mood for a drink, that was nice so I had another, but yes, I knew as I was buying it that on a school night, it was a mistake. Enough I was having a good time and I’ve paid the price today.

Talking of a school night gig it was a good turn out considering. Pip Bloom is both the singer and the band. Much like Soccer Mommy earlier this year Pip Bloom were a rockier, harder proposition live that they are on record and the band were clearly having a good time. The band are from the Netherlands and the bassist made a decent fist of speaking some Welsh.  The red headed drummer was a force of nature to behold in particular. I know the band from 6 Music and Mark Riley. It was quite a 6 Music crowd but not exclusively but I felt comfortable. The songs zoomed by with highlights being ‘Pussycat’, ‘I Think I’m in love’ and ‘Telephone’. It was the second gig in a row where I didn’t fancy the t-shirts, although they weren’t as awful as the woeful Parquet Courts gig t-shirts a week before. I could have gone to see a band called Trampoline upstairs at Clwb, but I’d already pushed it with three pints. I cycled home passing students who’s night out was just beginning as mine was ending.  

Vamos

We weren’t going to go.

I discussed the 30th anniversary ‘Come on Pilgrim’/’Surfer Rosa’ shows at the Roundhouse in London with my brother. We both agreed that they were a spicy enchilada and that we weren’t going. Fine. But then…I started thinking ‘Well fuck, it is a special show and I’ve never been to The Roundhouse before…’ then I got a load of Extra work and then the next thing you know…I’d bought us two tickets.

To cut down on the spiciness of the endeavor I decided to take the Megabus up. Lordy lord I thought it was never gonna end! It was busier than it had any right to be on Wednesday afternoon and had a stuffiness unique to UK buses. We circled Victoria coach station twice and I thought that was my life, to be damned to live forever on a Megabus looping round Victoria.

Eventually I wobbled off to Camden where I hooked up with Mr Floyd jr. God it was good to see him. We’ve both had life stuff going on so it was good to catch up. I’d picked the 31st of October as our gig in the 5 night run. Camden was warm and buzzing with Halloween high jinks as we went for drinks then to the Roundhouse.

What a bloody great venue! Mark was very happy to learn that it was the location of a legendary Doors gig back in the 60s. There was no support just some wonderfully arty films about the making of the Pixies album covers narrated by scary uncle Vaughan Oliver and sound tracked by Joey Santiago.

“Mark and I shared a moment when during ‘Nimrod’s Son’ we turned to each other and gleefully sang the line “You are the son of a mother fucker!” Ah. memories. ”

Pixies came on to joyous applause and I had a massive shit eating grin on my face from beginning to end . They just banged through ‘Come On Pilgrim; the visuals announced each song and amazingly they managed to retain the rawness. Joey took central stage for the first of his two Vamos wig outs. Dave Lovering threw him a drum stick, he played his guitar with it, he threw it back and Dave dropped it. I love love love you Pixies. As has been the tradition for Pixies shows of late Black Francis didn’t talk to the crowd, despite that the band seemed to be in high spirits. Even to the extent that Chuck read out the ‘You fucking die!’ piece of dialogue from ‘Surfer Rosa’. Mark and I shared a moment when during ‘Nimrod’s Son’ we turned to each other and gleefully sang the line “You are the son of a mother fucker!” Ah. memories.

Pixies are a lesser band without Kim Deal but I don’t love them any less, so did enjoy hearing ‘Gigantic’ get an outing. I had heard that the night before that the band had done ‘Debaser’ as part of the encore, which was more that I expected. So for we went to the mosh pit which was actually quite lively and had a good old fashioned ruck. The only song I can remember was ‘Into the White’. With a bit of change from 10:30 we were back into the Camden Halloween night.

The Roundhouse gig is one of my top five Pixies gigs for a number of reasons. The band were in a good mood, getting to spend quality time with my brother and the amazing venue. Crikey though, I was evil the next day.

Always Trying to Work It Out

Steve Dixon and I drove around Bristol trying to find parking for the Low gig last night. Boy, we know the roundabout by The Exchange well by the end of the night. My fault, I thought my gig kemosabe - who was kind enough to drive us there - knew the way. I only know the way from The Exchange, so my directions were a bit scrappy do. Eventually we did and got into the Trinity in time to see the final song from the support band, buy a beer and do the first sweep of the merch’ table.

Low’s set consisted very heavily of songs from their new album ‘Double Negative’ (did they play the whole album?), which is no bad thing. ‘Double Negative’ is pretty experimental with the actual sound of the songs, to the extent that the first time I played it I did check my stylus. It was great to hear the songs stripped of the effects and they really soared, filling up every corner of the church. They also settled into two extended bouts of guitar drone, similar to the ‘guitar armageddon’ that My Bloody Valentine used to close their sets with, but at a less ear threatening volume. I’d accuse most bands of being self indulgent at this point but Low last night weren’t doing it for effect, they were being artistically uncompromising, yes they were. I got the same feeling listening to the drone as I do when I’m looking at a Rothko painting. It filled my soul with joy.

Alan Sparhawk barely spoke to the audience for the first half, then when he did someone started screaming at the crowd. I have no idea why or what she was screaming about. Sparhawk was - understandably - freaked out and kept asking “Is everyone…cool?” Things seemed to settle down, but it was all very weird. Sparhawk recovered and was quite chatty after, even updating the audience on how his kids were doing, and how one had gone to art college. He seemed to be almost justifying the price of the gig ticket (which was a bit spicy) but fuck it, they’re Low. I’d see them every week if I could. Mimi did say ‘Is it Monday right?’ to which a wag in audience replied “Welcome to Bristol.”

They did pull some older songs out of the bags, particular highlights being ‘Murderer’ and ‘Pissing’. Low can play whatever they want, but I always hope for ‘When I Go Deaf’ but the one time I heard them do it live I blubbed like a baby, so probably best they didn’t.

I'm a Believer

By rights I should have had a better time. All the conditions were good. I’d purposefully left myself a bit dehydrated so I wouldn’t have to go for a slash right out of the gate, so I was cautiously optimistic about getting a new PB in Sunday’s Cardiff half marathon.

It’s my tenth? The only way I could know for certain is if I counted the amount of Cardiff half medals I have, and I don’t want to do that. I was a bit nervous. I hadn’t really got the required pace in my training runs, and I should have left more time to taper my training. ASICS have stopped doing their bespoke online running plan, so I thought I’d do my training ad hoc, having done enough of these. In the last four weeks I’ve also had a fair amount of lower back pain. On the day I slathered so much Ibuprofen gel and Deep Heat on my back that I probably created my own back brace.

I was running this year to raise funds for the wonderful local charity The Wallich which helps rough sleepers and prevent homelessness. One of the benefits was that they had a room in the City Hall to store bags and stay warm. It was a sunny if cold start. I set off for the start line at 9:30 for the 10am start. That side of things was a bit chaotic and at the end of Queen St, by the old Barfly. It was gridlocked with supporters. Can’t moan too much cause I was in the White Pen with 15 minutes to spare and in time to see the now traditional huge flames fire up vertically in front of the Castle.

And we were off!

Yes! I didn’t need a slash so I was off to a very quick start running the first mile in 6:33. The miles just flew by and I remember thinking ‘This pace isn’t too bad, if I dig in I might be able to do this.’ However things started to go to shit between miles 3 and 4 when take the hill from Penarth road up towards Barry and Penarth. I never really regained my pace after that. I needed an average pace of 6:50 and I was hitting around 7:20. So I knew by the time I got to the barrage I wasn’t on for a sub 1:30. The trick is then to keep going at a good pace and not just to kick back. I did get a pick-me-up when I saw The Wallich supporters at Richmond Rd. They cheered me on and I briefly hit the 6:40 pace again only to lose it again by the time I got to Albany Rd. So I kept on grinding the miles, I only stopped at one water station and I actually felt pretty strong running, especially when it came to Roath Park Lake, which is around mile 10 when you start to really feel it.

Although nothing really hurt and I felt strong I never got the ‘race high’ that I normally get around mile 8 fueled by lovely lovely endorphins. As I closed in on the end and killer hill as you coming into Cathays at mile 12 the closer I could get to 1:30 the better. I sprinted but still only got in at a disappointing 1:35.

Now, I don’t want to be a prick about this cause I know in the greater scheme of things that it’s a good time. If you’d said to me at the start of the year would I prefer a PB in a marathon or a half marathon I’d have chose the marathon, and I did get a PB in Newport in April, but still…I can’t help be disappointed. I should have trained more, and I should have followed a plan. As it turned out I was actually 2 minutes quicker than last year, and I know what I’ve got to do for next year. Also I raised money for a great charity, which is the the most important thing. I suppose.

War Paint

It’s been an…eventful year. This has meant that some of my activities have sometimes taken a back seat. Principally my painting. I’ve been less than inspired with my usual subject matter, and a few things I’ve gone back to haven’t really worked out. This has all translated to me spending less and less time in my studio, to the point that I was shocked to realise the other day that I hadn’t been there in 6 weeks.

“Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.”

— Picasso

However I have had an idea for a new set of paintings, partly informed by the work I saw in the RA Summer exhibition. So the ideas have been fermenting and it was just a matter of dragging myself back. In the words of Picasso “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” which has meant that I’ve been back to my studio twice this weekend.

There have been some very practical considerations, namely that my studio is a tip. I have mentioned a few times on this blog that I run in, throw some paint and turps around then run back out again, but now the space really is a disgrace, so I had to do some tidying up. Believe it or not the picture you can see if after I’d done some cleaning. Yes, I have some way to go.

Having cleared my studio of Burnt Umber, which at one point seemed to be breeding, I now find that I need some, which is all part of life’s rich pageant. It does feel good to be back working, knowing what direction I’m going, and - as soon as I do some more cleaning - a path into my studio

Beat Quest

Yesterday was a bit full on.

It kicked off with a deceptively leisurely start as I got ready for the Cardiff 10k. I was a bit blase about the race as it's not my distance. When I did it a couple of years ago I was astounded that there was such a fuss being made about a race which was just 6 miles. I do recognise that it was quite a douchey thing to think, it's a big challenge and a very life affirming thing to do. Like any of this events it also spotlights the best side of my adopted home town.

I was a little but nervous and I walked to the start line, no reason really. I did have an ambitious pace of 6:40 in mind, and random parts of me began to ache (especially my back, oi granddad!). I had time to nip into The Hilton for my now tradition pre-race slash, especially as they delayed the start by 10 minutes.

Blimey though it was tough! I did the first mile in 6:20, which upon reflection was probably a bit too fast. I got steadily slower, and by midpoint I was pretty fucked, although I was keeping a respectable pace. Even though I'd looked at the map of the route before hand I couldn't quite put all of it together in my head. It was a good, flat route if a little twisty turny, which took in The Stadium, Westgate Steet, Llandaff Fields and Potcanna Fields. There was a point on Castle Avenue where someone was breathing so loudly and in such an avant-garde jazz way that it drew looks from the crowds, I hope the runner was okay, they certainly didn't sound it. As soon as it started it was over, and I got a respectable 43:32 and an average 6:57 pace, which is fine. It was a training run for the Cardiff Half and I was pushing myself. I was happy to get a Nation Radio pen in the goody bag. 

Next was a brisk walk, a shower and off to The Corner in Roath, where we were filming the first new 'Anoraks' episode for two years! 'Anoraks' is the geek sitcom which I created and co-write with the very talented director Ed Sinclair. It's a very tenacious project as we've managed to keep it alive despite scheduling issues and actors dropping out. It feels like with the casting of Sarah Bennington as Kim - the third lead character - that the final piece of the puzzle and slotted into place. We'd rehearsed on the Saturday and there was an instant chemistry between the three actors which was exciting to witness. Our camera man Chris Davies was on hand as were new additions Rachel Price and Andrew Creak as runners/support artists. It was great to see the episodes finally coming together thanks to Ed's hard work. I just turned up and said: "Say 'Falconmyer' in a funny way.'.

We wrapped at 4:30 and I had another brisk walk to get to Cardiff Central to get the train to Bristol for the Flatworms/Thee Oh Sees gig at the 02. What was great is that I was reunited with my gig kemosabe 'Grumpy' Gareth Evans for our first gig together in two years! Blimey, what was it about 2016? Yes the 02 is a shit venue, I'll only ever go there as a last resort, and this counted cause we'd failed to see the two bands in London when the Beast from the East blew in March. I was really looking forward to seeing Flatworms, and I was a bit disappointed when the t-shirts they had for sale turned out to be not much cop. T-shirt disappointment aside they were very good, a very tight three piece with a real kick who didn't fuck about, even though the lead singers mike was a bit temperamental, causing a Spinal Tap style roadie intervention. 

If I'm honest I enjoyed Flatworms more than the headliners. Not that Thee Oh Sees were bad, they were great, very dynamic live, and the twin drummers just knock you out visually as well as sonically (I couldn't get out of my head how much one of the looked like the late playwright Joe Orton). John Dwyer - Thee O Sees defacto leader - likes a guitar noodle as well as a gurn, and about midway through the set and another guitar workout the day began to catch up with me and my back started to ache again. It did cause us a rueful smile as both Gareth and I pushed our palms into our backs for support on the way back to the car.

A busy busy day which I'm gonna pay for in the coming week, but what the hell, it was fun. 

Stripper Vicar

I should have written this three weeks ago when we actually went to the RA Summer Exhibition,  but hey ho there you go.

It was baking hot in The Smoke when Sian and I rocked up to the Royal Academy. This was a landmark year being it's 250th year and they had pulled out all the stops. The xxhibition was on three floors and in a turn around from  there seemed to be a few more of us armature artists in there, which gives it a bit more vigor. I'd been on the fence about going but it had got some great reviews and it was curated by everyone's favorite unsettling media transvestite Grayson Perry. 

What market this year out was a playfulness, some of the stand out pieces played with art history like Kim Jong Un/Duchamp mash up (pictured above) in the second room and the smoking green lady in curlers (right) which we nearly bought. and pictures with terrible puns. There was also a wall of portraits of Perry which people thought in a wave of sycophancy would get them in, and they were right. It did work, it was cheeky and funny. 

Inevitably with an exhibition so vast and a tiny bit more inclusive than previous years  there's going to be a few sings and misses. I wasn't keen on Cornelia Parker sex robot piece, thought it was a bit on the nose. I didn't think much of the David Hockneys, but these were two of the few low points for me. The lino/wood cuts seemed to be grouped together in the new upper room and were very impressive and were a good counter point to the digital work. Also Parker's framed red dot panting is becoming a bit of a perennial, it's like turning a corner and bumping into an old friend. I wonder how long she can carry on the gag? 

All in all a great year, and I came out feeling inspired and with a few ideas about what I'll be submitting to get rejected next year.

Do You Realize??

Blimey I'm tired.

I suspect that it was some kind of beautiful accident which got The Flaming Lips booked into the 1,000 capacity Tramshed last night. The gig sold out in an hour, and it's the busiest I've ever seen the venue, and lordy lord it was hot, it was disco hot.

I have a lot of history with the Flaming Lips and are probably one of the only bands I've seen in multiple countries. I've lost count of how may times I've seen them. The first time was at a Glastonbury in 1999 (?) with Grumpy Gareth at the other stage. The set had fake blood, nun glove puppets, basically everything you'd want from a gig.

Last night after some technical difficulties they were straight out of the traps with 'Racing for the Price' and proceeded to open the full visual onslaught that they're known for. It felt like they started the show with an encore. That level of euphoria couldn't be maintained for the entire gig but it came pretty damn close. The set relied pretty heavily on 'Soft Bulletin' and 'Yoshimi' which is no bad thing, they have been pretty much been doing the same set for the last five years, which I'm not complaining about, I'm pretty sure I've seen Wayne Coyne zorbing across the crowd while singing 'Space Oddity' before, I definitely haven't seen him ride a unicorn while wearing rainbow wings before. Coyne did mention that they pretty much hadn't changed the stage set they use for an enormo-festival stage and it was even more impressive in The Tramshed. 

There were a lot of phones out for the Lips zany antics, but I managed to stay in the moment and leave my phone in my pocket, I nicked the photo above from a friend's Instragram feed. It was a proper old school sweaty gig, both Sian and I were drenched when we left. I loved the gig, it was just sheer joy which was topped off with an inflatable rainbow (of course) and 'Do You Realize??'. A gig to lift your soul and make you smile.  

Christ's Entry into Govan

I didn't intend to go to see Trembling Bells. It's been a spicy month and there's more coming up so I thought 'I can duck out of this gig.' but then 6 Music started to pummel me into submission. Thus listening to Marc Riley's listeners email in to say how good the band were on their current tour I caved and with a few taps of Dice I'd bought a ticket.

“ I didn’t think Trembling Bells were her kind of band. I was right. ”

I had a  further surprise when Sian took up my offer of coming along. I didn't think Trembling Bells were her kind of band. I was right. We got to Clwb Ifor just after 9 and they were already on which was a relief on a school night. I love Trembling Bells, they feel like a band from another era, and wouldn't sound amiss contributing songs to the original 'Wicker Man'. They're a bit Fairport while tipping a hat to the Haunted Generation sub-genre. I can appreciate that they're not everyone's cup of tea. I was one of the youngest members of the   audience which numbered roughly 40+ who were very 6 Music. On Saturday when I mentioned to my mate Jas that I was seeing the band his face crumpled up and he compared their music to the sound of fingernails being dragged down a black board, so yes definitely not everyone's cup of tea. Bugger it, I love them, I acknowledge their proggy folkely dokely leanings but I embrace that!

They did a fair amount from the new album including my favourite, the bonkers 'Christ's Entry into Govan' which led to a proper old Cockney wig out where I went down to the front. Sian said later that her favorite part of the gig was seeing being bopping along to the song.

I don't know how long the band have been on tour but they seemed a little fatigued. Not when they were actually playing but just with their slightly awkward stage banter. It was nice to hear about their adventures in the Forest of Dean that day on a pilgrimage to find Dennis Potter's birthplace. Alex Neilson the singing drummer (I'm a sucker for a singing drummer) and main song writer of the band started one song acapella for the encore, had a wobble, forgot the words and started another.

They didn't have a medium t-shirt which was a bugger and a large would have looked hideous so we started walking home. Yep, Sian didn't like the band and not unreasonably she asked if I knew she wouldn't like the band why I invited her out. Well she constantly surprises me, there was a outside possibility that she might enjoy them (unlikely) but it was just nice to have a night out with her, and a school night out at that. 

Last Time

Gigmaggedon continued with...ladies and gentlemen The Rolling Stones!

Loads of mates of mine were going, but it proved near impossible to organise a mutually agreeable meeting point which was a shame. The weather was good enough for a beer garden and although I like the support band Elbow, I didn't like them enough to put up with the Stadium's overpriced cooking lager. 

We timed it perfectly and got to the Stadium in time to get a drink (fizz) 'ave a slash, bump into friends and find a spot. The Stadium was packed and may have been close to selling out? I was surprised at how many twenty somethings made up the crowd, which might have helped the atmosphere, which was great, it was a Friday night in Cardiff!

The Stones were right of the gate with 'Street Fighting Man', and you could feel a swell of energy from the crowd. Jagger was chewing gum as he moved around the stage, I dunno why but I thought it was a nice touch. They were remarkable and seemed to be having a good time, I even saw Charlie crack a few smiles. It was essentially a greatest hits set, but with a few surprises thrown in. The blues number 'Just Your Fool' was good to hear with Jagger on harmonica. 'Get Off My Cloud' was by request and I dunno if I've heard them do it before? Equally 'Like a Rolling Stone' was good to hear and I was happy that 'Paint it Black' got an outing.

I nipped off to get a drink, but rushed back when I heard Keef take lead vocals on 'You Got the Silver' and 'Before They Make Me Run'. Oddly enough I thought Keef was a bit off, Charlie was very tight, Ronnie surprised me (as he did at the 2014 Hyde Park gig) by being blistering, but Keef, I dunno. At one point he did start the wrong song. Was it his fault? Who knows. 

Jagger made reference to other Cardiff gigs they'd done, especially the 1975 Cardiff Castle gig which didn't go ahead. I don't think they played anything past 1978, the disco workout of 'Miss You' sounded fresh. Unlike the Beyonce gig I pretty much knew every word of every song. Loved the gig. Couldn't believe how good they were and how energetic Jagger was, there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. 

I've seen them four times now, and surely this has got to be the last time? If so it was an amazing send off. 

Crazy in Love

It's been a heavy month of giggage.

It kicked off on the 6th with Beyonce and Jay Z at the Millennium Stadium. It was more a Spectacle than a gig and it's fair to say I felt like a complete tourist. It was lots of fun though, it's hard not to enjoy something done on that scale and with that amount of flair. I knew about four songs though. Thought they pissed 'Crazy in Love' away. The visuals were full on with a heavy emphasis on how much in love Beyonce and Jay Z are. Thought about buying a t-shirt, but at £30 a pop they can fuck off for free. 

Next up was Nadine Shah and Billy Bragg at the Millennium Centre. The opening set of this year's Festival of Voice. It's not really a festival of course and it was bad planning to put it on when there are so many other gigs happening in Cardiff. Tickets weren't cheap for the events and they should have operated some kind of wrist band system. Four gigs get one free? Still, it brings in some big names.

One of the selling points for this gig was that Nadine Shah was supporting. I'd missed her when she'd played The Globe last year and was kicking myself. She took a bit of time to find her feet, and favored a Liam Gallagher style arms behind her back stance. As the set continued she found her confidence, and the last song 'Way Out' had a Led Zep type swagger which provided the most thrilling six minutes of live music I've seen this year.

Billy Bragg was funny, engaging and utterly charming. I particularly him telling the story of being berated for using a single use water at his last Cardiff gig, only to be greeted by the person who'd called him out, again in the crowd. The big nosed bard from Barking seemed to get a bit more conciliatory when the audience member made himself known, although to Bragg's credit he had change to multi-use bottles.

The set was a heady mix of music and politics, high points included songs from his Woody Guthrie Mermaid Avenue album and of course 'New England'. 

The next gig I went to was Belly with Steve Ford in the Glee Club. I'd been in the Glee the night before to see the drag artist Jinx Monsson, which was an entirely different proposition. Belly took the unusual step of having two sets and an interval. Is it because the venue usually has an interval? I preferred the second set, they were a bit less shambolic and more charming. The front row were a hardcore bunch of fans who'd contributed to a crowd funder campaign. It was a joy to see how much they were enjoying the gig and being together. When Tanya Donelly said that they were doing a song from the new album an American behind us said loudly:

"No one came to hear your new songs, we just want the old stuff." someone turned around and said:
"Shut the fuck up!"
"Calm down!"
"Don't tell me to fucking calm down."
Steve and I edged away as they started to jab fingers into each others chests. There was an odd atmosphere in the gig, somewhere between euphoria and violence which I wasn't expecting.

Two days later came an unexpected gig in the form of Norwegian singer Susanne Sundfør at the New Theatre. It was part of the Festival of Voice and I was offered two free tickets. Great! Never seen a gig in the New Theatre and I have very happy memories of working there as a a barman when I was a student. I enjoyed the support band, Sian was less keen After a interval where I caught up with the talented photographer Simon Ayre it was in for the main act. I was aware of Susanne Sundfør but didn't know what to expect. It was just her and another woman accompanying her on piano and guitar. I absolutely loved it and find it impossible to describe the music without using cliched terms like 'ethereal' and 'glacial' . Great stuff and a complete contrast to the Beyonce gig exactly a week before.

Blimey, I was feeling a bit punchy the day after, it's a heavy schedule, even for me, but I was saving the best to last...

Hey Superman

I was hungover and sweating profusely on an oppressively humid Megabus on the way up to London. It was my annual trek to The Smoke to drop my paintings off. Jesus I was so relieved to get off that bus, it seemed never ending. I was taking the Megabus up to try and cut costs, the big mistake was getting the 9am bus, cause I couldn't sleep and it was like a Greenhouse on wheels

I was a disgrace on the underground, so wandering around like a clown, getting on the wrong train and getting off too early.  Eventually I got to the Happenstance studio, dropped off the paintings, had a chat to Anastasia and off I did trot. A flying visit as I had stuff to do back in Cardiff.

A week later I was back up in London to pick the paintings back up, again on the Megabus, but this time not hungover and we got in half an hour early. Larvely! This gave me an opportunity to look around the exhibition. It was as great and diverse as usual, but if I'm honest nothing really leapt out at me. It was at the same gallery - Candid Arts Space - as last year and it's a great space. I was interviewed for Art Freak a Youtube vlog. Oooo, vlogs, all the young people are vlogging aren't they? As long as they aren't vlogging a dead horse. Sorry. 

After the interview I had to grab the paintings before the exhibition ended and jump back onto the underground. With an understandingly weary look Anastasia said "Yeah that's fine, Darren's special." You can say that again. So grabbed the paintings and dashed across town to get the next train home. Loved having the paintings in the exhibition, it's still a thrill for me to have the opportunity to have my paintings on show in London. I'm thinking of trying something a bit more representational for the RA next year and I'm looking forward to going to the Summer exhibition in a couple of weeks.  

Newport State of Mind (pt 2)

I have a lot to be grateful for. Not least that I am healthy enough and have the resources to run marathons. 

I was nervous in the build up to yesterday inaugural Newport marathon. I was aiming for a sub-three hour time, an ambitious time.  My training had gone reasonably well but I hadn't really hit the required pace. To add a little spice to proceedings the first train to Newport was at 8:04, leaving a slim margin of time before the 9am start time. As it turned out the train was on time and not packed which surprised me. On the train I put on my first layer of deep heat, and lordy lord did it stink.

“...part of the street by the Wetherspoons had been cordoned off with police tape. The night before an 18 year old had driven into a crowd. Welcome to Newport...”

I didn't really know where the start line and just followed everyone else. As we walked down the waterfront there was a part of the street by the Wetherspoons had been cordoned off with police tape. The night before an 18 year old had driven into a crowd. Welcome to Newport. 

It was a slightly chaotic scene at the waterfront. The Marshall I asked didn't know where the white start was: "Errr, that way?"  It wasn't hard to find but I do get a bit chippy just before the start of a race. I had been a bit - errr - over eager to sign up, and as a result I had the bib number of 16, which I was slightly ashamed and proud of in equal measures. 

The start time got pushed back by 15 minutes, then a following 15 minutes because of the delay people had getting into Newport. It was always going to happen, and is something that Run4Wales will learn. Also it would be good to keep spectators away from the running pens, there were lots of people just wandering around. 

After the delays we were off at 9:30am, and I was right at the start. I got off quick and did the first mile in a very pacey 6:33, and despite having lots of opportunity before hand I needed a slash within the first mile, I stopped just before mile 2 but it didn't really slow down. I managed to keep a sub 7 hour pace for the first 7 miles before it started to slip away and I saw the 3 hour pace setter pass me and gradually fade into the horizon.

Despite this the pace was good, I felt strong and i was dipping below the 7 mile pace on a regular basis. The route was great, very flat (as promised) with lots of straight, long country roads. it's hard to see how they could grow the race as I could imagine that the route could get pretty congested. I was lucky to have a lot of space from the get go. There was were few supporters on the route because of how out of the way it was. I didn't find this a problem cause I'm happy to chew the miles with just my own thoughts.

“I did think that if my time was good I’d Moonwalk over the finish line...”

The way i handled the race was as soon as I got over mile 17 I'd think 'Only 8  more miles to go...' of course it was actually just under 9 miles but it was just what I'd tell myself to keep churning the miles. Alas my faithful Garmin didn't seem to be able to churn with me, it kept turning itself off after mile 19, which was really frustrating. Although I couldn't see what my overall time was i kept switching it back on to keep an eye on my pace, which was around 8 - 7:30 minute miles. Around this time I began to get a weird nerve pain in my left arm. it's something different each marathon, at Brighton it was my shoulders,

I knew at this point - miles 19 - 21 - that I wasn't going to get a sub-three hour, i knew it awhile before in fact, but I knew that if I dug deep that I'd be on for a PB. I did think that if my time was good I'd Moonwalk over the finish line, in the end I decided not to. 

i really had to dig deep for the last three miles, because traditionally that's where it wall falls apart for me. At mile 24 we double backed on ourselves and on the other side I could see the 3 hour 15 pace setter. I knew I had to stay ahead of him to have a hope of a PB, I was still doing a respectable time, but I could feel him snapping at my heals as I came up to mile 25. I just ground my teeth, dug in and used everything I had to speed up in the last mile. Then in the distance I could see the finish line and the clock ticking at the 3 hour 13 mark, I sprinted and crossed the line at 3 hours 14 minutes and 59 seconds. Four minutes off my PB at Tokyo and ten minutes faster than my time in Brighton last year.  The pace setter came in just after me.

I was happy crossing the finish line, and without knowing it made the volunteer who was giving out medals put it on me like Princess Leia putting the medal on Han Solo at the end of Star Wars. I got my t-shit and some water and walked past the crime scene (now with forensic experts swabbing) to the station and had to run (oh the indignity!) to catch the train.

A great course, which has the makings of a great race once Run 4 Wales have got over their teething troubles. My quest for a sub three hour marathon continues...