This sounded far too manufactured and false. Sure, I hear your social concerns. But it’s hardly What’s Going On, sung from the heart. The Jam and Lewis production never fails, no matter the artist. But I wanted a little more soul and meaning. I wanted authenticity, and not album sales.
⭐ ⭐
Bailed after four tracks. My head wasn’t really in the right space for this. Aggressive, posturing, dated.
⭐ ⭐
To the Essex Sports Arena! For a Valentine’s Day themed mid-table clash between the Rebels and Derby Trailblazers! Except there wasn’t a lot of love lost between the two teams.
Derby arrived with a short bench - just eight players lining up for the team introductions. The Rebs were giving a debut to new signing Isaac Temilola.
We took up our usual seats behind the home bench. Five minutes later and an army of ankle biters sat behind us. Oh dear. It was a birthday celebration trip for one of the enthusiastic young fellas. We decided to shuffle along to the next block.
Partners for the game day was the local Robin Cancer Trust. There was no shortage in takers for the raffle set up by the Rebs. Toby from the RCT gave an inspiring speech to the busy Arena ahead of tip off.
There’s no polite way of putting this: Derby were BRUTES. They are a very physical imposing team that isn’t afraid to make the most of their extra muscle on court. Rebs tried to counteract this with pace.
The home team trailed 18-21 at the first buzzer. They did well to catch up at the start of the second, but were still chasing the game 39-44 at the break.
Somehow the home team managed to pull ahead 56-48 at one stage in the third. A time out from Derby managed to stabilise the game, as they went ahead 65-69 at the end of the third. The final score of 91-83 in favour of the away team seemed about fair.
Whittlesey Athletic rocked up at Broad Lane on Saturday afternoon to find a surprisingly half decent pitch. It appears that some sort of micro weather climate has managed to keep this little corner of Wivenhoe free of any of the horrid rain over the past few weeks.
The conditions meant that both teams tried to play a passing game - which was something of a first. Whittlesey were clearly skilled, and not afraid to keep possession in their own half. I can’t say that I’m favour of a Pep tactics having filtered down to non-league.
Following an even first half, Wivenhoe came out after the break and… passed the ball into the Whittlesey net. It was almost as if the opposition had tempted the Dragons to play their passing game. Imitation, flattery etc.
The remaining forty minutes or so were spent with Wivenhoe in game management mode. It was never a case of hanging on and hoping for the best. The home team did well to defend with confidence and keep Whittlesey out.
This was the first game this winter where the floodlights weren’t needed. And so a 1-0 home win, and spring is in the air. Optimism ahoy!
I had a spare couple of hours late afternoon on Friday, and for once, the bloody Estuary Wilds skies weren’t threatening rain. I’m on something of a walking mission at the moment. I’m still recovering from a crocked running injury. But I can’t sit still. Have legs, will walk, etc.
And so I plodded off for the second decent walk of the day. The morning effort was the now routine pacy hike around the town. It’s nothing too adventurous, but it’s mainly flat and I can work up a good fitness level.
I fancied something a little more nature shit late afternoon. I strolled out along the estuary, with the broad aim of hitting up the old St Peter’s abandoned church at Alresford. There was just enough daylight left to complete the circuit.
The wind picked up once I reached the mouth of the estuary. There was no one else around. An outgoing tide also meant no traffic out on the water. I paused briefly to have a moment at Fat Bloke’s bench.
The wellies rather than walking boots were most welcome. At times I was wading through mud. I came close to coming a cropper and landing face down in all the brown stuff.
St Peter’s was reached. Each time I’m here it seems special. The uniqueness of the shell of the old church felt all the more poignant with the darkening skies and the wind blowing around the old four walls. I stopped to take a few snaps. The battery on my PEN-F died on me.
I opted for the cross country walk back to base. I didn’t fancy the busy road. I was wearing black and had no lighting. I reached Quayside just as the locals were turning on their lights and starting their weekend plans.
We took a punt for a Friday lunchtime game of wiff waff. The weather above was changeable. It wasn’t quite four seasons in one day, but we could feel the Estuary Wilds blowing up a storm with every passing points.
And yep - the points did pass around - mostly against me. I wasn’t helped by my attire. You haven’t LIVED THE DREAM if you haven’t played outdoor winter table tennis wearing a cheapo pair of Dunlop green wellies.
The mud around the foot of the table was the least of our worries. Mid-game and it became noticeable that the lime wind ball had turned a dark shade of brown. On closer inspection it also revealed what the foul smell was: dog shit.
NEW BALLS!
All the mucky business meant that our mental concentration was shot. We messed up a few times with the scores, and who was suppose to be serving. The final score was a 4-1 defeat to me. It may just have been the other way round.
Possibly.
It’s been FORTY THREE years since the magic of Into Battle with the Art of Noise has been banging around in my head. Forty three chuffing years. Blimey. And now I’ve finally got a copy on CD.
I still proudly own the cassette EP that I first bought from Selectadisc back in the Fair City in 1983. It was the first official release on ZTT. I have vague memories of seeing a video on The Tube the night before, and taking a punt.
That cassette has long since been knackered and worn out. I rinsed it to death on an old Walkman whilst carrying out a paper round for a year or so. I remember it being such a cinematic sound as I walked around the family village, shoving some free sheet shit through the letterboxes as the light faded.
The CD that landed this morning contains the glorious 23 minutes of the original EP, plus 17 other tracks to stretch out the release. The beats still sound industrial, yet somehow soulful. Moments in Love remains LUSH.
“A volatile character is walking into a volatile situation at the City Ground. The results could be explosive.”
Atomizer is a very rhythmic album, and not the clusterfuck of noise that I was expecting. It even sounds a little like Nu Rave, some twenty years too early. I swear I heard some bagpipes. Big Black had some soul. They just didn’t want you to know it.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐
This sounds like a diluted version of that horrid rock / rap crossover. Not that there’s any rap on it, but you get the point. It’s Lenny Kravitz outtakes, with all the original soul and energy sucked out with a clinical production style.
⭐ ⭐
