onionbagblog

The Orb’s Oblivion. This was a really uplifting and pleasant listen as part of the Album of the Day earlier in the week. I’d almost forgotten about The Orb. I really should delve deeper into their back catalogue. I’m currently balls deep in Ozric Tentacles hippie shit, which I absolutely adore.

My Orb listening back in the day was probably only around U.F.Orb. It sounded so fresh and so different at the time.

By the time Orblivion came along in 1997, the whole landscape had shifted. Chill wasn’t exactly chilling. We were all buzzing off our tits and jumping around like mad fuckers. I’m not quite sure where The Orb fitted in at the time.

With age, however, and the inevitable slowing down, Orblivion is well worth a second listen. Most of it was unfamiliar to me. I’ve forgotten completely about the lead track, Toxygene. It bounces along and still has me buzzing.

An unplanned bicycle ride on Saturday morning to kick-start the weekend. Unplanned bicycle rides are the best.

I had hoped to ride on Sunday. The weather forecast of doom suggests not, so Saturday morning it was.

Chapeau!

As ever for this time of the year, I got my layers all wrong. I was wearing long-sleeve Lycra but could have done with a gilet. These details matter, Comrades.

I fancy stretching my legs out along the old Abberton Reservoir route. It rather handily concludes with a stop off at the gym for a quick swim and a freshen up.

Saturday mornings are anything but quiet along the Estuary Wilds lanes. This is the time when the white van men can go out earning some extra dosh with weekend work. Getting out of Sunny Colch and then the Hythe was pretty hellish.

Half an hour later or so, I was out on the Reservoir circular route. The white van men had been replaced by the birdwatchers around Abberton.

The seasons are showing visible signs of change. Withering ferns lined one particular stretch. They look completely singed and hanging on for dear life.

The wind picked up. I knew this as the return run involved passing a number of wind turbines in complete overdrive.

The gym was reached. A brief swim followed, and then my reward of a hour arsing around doing absolutely fuck all in the spa.

GAWD bless Stone Rock Records in Sunny Colch. I’ve been in a few times, flicking through the vinyl crates. I’m not really in the market for buying new vinyl these days or even secondhand vinyl.

I had a little more time to kill on Friday morning. I wandered past and noticed a small CD selection that should kill 10 minutes or so with a bit of crate digging.

It looked as though a job lot had just been bought from someone who has rather fine and ever so slight left of centre indie tastes. It wasn’t the usual meat and two veg indie.

The prices were most defo of the cheapo cheapo variety. We’re talking £1 per CD or £2 for three. Blimey that’s even better than charity shop tat.

Staring straight at me right from the start was a CD version of the PiL Metal Box album. It was even in the metal tin.

SHIT THE BED. That can’t be £1, can it? I had no idea what this currently fetches on eBay. An online shifty later in the day revealed anything between £40 and £50. I’ll have a bit of that, I thought.

Added to the pile were a couple of Wedding Present albums. You can’t go wrong with the Boy Gedge as he grumbles away and his guitar grunts back at him.

The Clint Boon Experience debut album was another half-decent find. I’ve always loved the lead track White with No Sugar. Let’s add that to the pile.

I also picked up the Chemicals debut. They can always cut it. I don’t think I’ve actually ever owned a copy of Exit Planet Dust. I’m always a sucker for any Chris Rea.

And so £4 for 6 CDs. Christ, that’s fantastic value. The owner behind the counter is also a lovely lovely fella.

To the Mercury Theatre! …early on Friday morning. I was booked in as part of the Heritage Open Weekend on a freebie guided tour.

This was only my second visit to the Mercury. The first was also a freebie during a local elections hustings. At least I know what my price pinch point is.

I really rather enjoyed the morning in the company of a couple of incredibly friendly guides. I really should make the effort to take in some of the shows.

My issue, as ever with everything is the cost. £30 probably isn’t an unreasonable price to pay for any theatre performance. It’s just that in the back of my mind I still think that most theatre seats can be bought for a tenner.

I still only paid a grubby fiver for the performance of As You Like It at Shakespeare’s Globe earlier in the week. I find it hard to understand the economics of the Globe and how a £5 Groundlings ticket hasn’t increased since the Globe first opened more than a quarter of a century ago.

Anyway back to the guided tour of the Mercury.

My name was called out by the lovely host. Another fella put his hand up.

Hang on, mate. That’s me not you.

It turns out that within a group of a dozen or so people you really can have two blokes sharing the same slightly obscure second name.

It was something of a whistle-stop guided tour. We were told on many occasions that a more considered look around the theatre can be taken if you are prepared to hand over your shekels.

Our first stop was the new performance space. The Mercury has been pretty much transformed over the past five years or so with the refurbishment.

The performance space was a fantastic size. It looked ideal for small-scale performances with anything between half a dozen and perhaps even a solitary cast member. It was also a good area in which to try out possible new creative directions.

We were then allowed to look through into the rehearsal area. Preparations were full on for the forthcoming production of Jane Eyre.

I got a sense that the tour was becoming a little Spinal Tap. We were walking endlessly through corridors, passing signs saying Stage Entrance with arrows pointing and twisting around.

It didn’t surprise me that, in front of the main big stage door for the theatre auditorium, there was a large mirror. These actor types certainly do know how to ponce up before putting on a performance.

The highlight of the tour was actually entering and treading the boards of the Mercury Theatre stage. Don’t put your son on the stage, etc.

The acoustics standing on the stage were incredible. You could almost feel the sense of calm around you.

The tour then went a little wonky. A battleaxe old couple took issue with our charming guide. His role was part of engagement and not a high-profile financial position within the theatre.

The old battleaxe couple took him to task about the refurbishment. They demanded to know why he personally didn’t organise the expansion of the theatre to something around 1,000 seats or so rather than create dance studios and fringe theatre spaces.

He very politely tried to bat this aside but the old battleaxe couple wouldn’t let it lie.

Fuck me. Some people.

We entered the construction workshop. Preparations were already underway for the panto scenery. It looked very industrious.

Meanwhile the costume space was miniature. It looked like a lot of hard toil goes into creating the finer details for each costume for what might even just be a walk-on, walk-off part.

And so a very decent half-hour whistle-stop tour around the Mercury Theatre. I’ll try and make sure I actually pay something when I return next time.

Some snaps of Sunny Colch, for no other reason than have content, will publish. I spent pretty much all of Friday walking around the half town, half city. I had a few errands that were time dependent and so had time to kill. Have time to kill, have camera, etc.

It helped that it was also Heritage Open Weekend. I’ll have a bit of that, I thought.

As well as dropping in on a freebie open tour of the Mercury Theatre, as posted elsewhere, I also managed to get a look behind the usually closed doors of the Baptist Church along Eld Lane.

My memories of ‘O’ Level RE - Grade B, I’ll have you know - are that I actually attended a baptism back in the day. It was a full-on thing: a grown adult being dunked in the water, John the Baptist style.

SPLASH. Gotcha.

The Sunny Colch Baptist Church was almost Art Deco with a stunning curvature up in the balcony.

I sniffed around a little, poking my nose where perhaps I shouldn’t. I was in search of their indoor Lido.

Where the fuck is it? It’s got to be here, right? What’s the point of a Baptist church without an inbuilt Lido? Although technically, a swimming pool that is indoors is a swimming pool, and not a Lido.

The very friendly guide tipped me off and showed me the magic markings on the centre stage where the water was underneath. It was almost like the trapdoor in a theatre.

Elsewhere around Sunny Colch I was hoping to take part in a Billy No Mates audio walk around the half town, half city. One of the popular apps that usually charges for a guided walk through your phone was offering up a freebie for the weekend.

If I’m ever going to do this then I’m going to do it during Heritage Open Weekend when it’s a freebie, right?

I tried to book the freebie the night before. Nothing. Ah ,no worries, betcha it only rolls over on the day of the actual freebie walk.

I tried once again on morning. No, nothing. Arse.

You picked the wrong person to dangle the carrot of a saving £3.99 for a freebie walk, mate.

I marched off to the Colchester tourist people, or whatever they are called these days. They were most charming and incredibly friendly. They were also a little saddened to hear I couldn’t access my freebie walk. Some emails were fired off.

Oh well I still had my camera. I still had time to kill. I did my own guided tour around the half town, half city. I was my own personal guide, taking in some of the locations that I’ve not really been to in around 35 years or so.

We’re talking around the edges of the old Roman wall and the Castle Road and Roman Road area. I spent a very interesting year living here. Some memories are best forgotten.

I walked past the old house. The frontage looked pretty much the same, although the small front garden has certainly been tarted up with a new garden wall. I lingered perhaps a little too long, peering into the windows. I noticed one was open. I looked a right stalker, and so decided to get a move on.

I did manage to walk around the back. Our own back garden, during that one year along Roman Road, actually backed onto the Roman wall. I stood in the back garden and had a quick shifty through. Someone was hanging out the washing.

Whoops. Now would be a good time to move on, Jase.

And so a decent day also walking around the town. My errands were all done in time to catch the train home. I had a camera full of snaps, some cheapo cheapo CDs, and half a dozen pants from Primarni.

LIVE the dream.

“I come from NYC where all the bodies of water were cesspools when I was growing up. The Hudson River had garbage floating in it. When I went to school the incinerators in the buildings we lived in burned garbage on the kids, all nicely washed and dressed by our mothers, we arrived at school smelling like smokers. My grandfather took me to Knicks games at the Garden, and the arena was filled with smoke by half-time. We can clean things up. Humans as a species are good at this if we put our minds to it.”

Dave Winer on cleaning up the social web

The team news dropped. Oh dear we appear to be without three established centre halves - which is something of a problem when you’re playing a very rigid system with a refusal to be flexible with your back five.

Oh how we could have done with Morato, albeit the West Ham Morato, who somehow was transformed into a wing back wonder last night.

Out came the teams. I’ve always had a soft spot for Villa. I think it’s a Midlander thing. Plus we are European brothers in that we’ve both lifted the big trophy.

I’m not too up to speed with the Villa of 2026. The best thing I can say about them after today’s performance is that their home kit looked very sexy.

Not so the Forest third kit ripple effort. That’s a jersey that only a hardcore Forest fan could fall in love with.

I said the same thing about the third kit during the Nuno European push season. Our relationships with football jerseys are intrinsically linked to the performance we see whilst they are being worn.

Villa started strongly. Matz Sels, in the middle of our goal, was superb. He certainly kept Forest from falling behind early on and possibly being out of the game.

Villa are also something of a niggly team. We got the first sighting of the Forest Britpop physio this afternoon.

Murillo remains such a worry on the injury front. He’s only one overstretched run away from being a long term injury.

Somehow Forest found their feet and rallied. They had the better of the closing 15 minutes or so of the first half.

I managed to miss Delap’s debut goal. My VPN was playing silly buggers.

Wait. We’re back.

Running the midfield for Forest was Schlager. He was absolutely commanding, with an incredibly industrious performance that I think should edge him ahead of Sangare in future team selections. He has so much energy and also ideas when he’s on the ball.

Meanwhile McAtee was finally looking like the solution we need. As well as possessing the ability to twist and turn whatever way suits the style of play, he has also added a physical element to his game.

Dan Ndoye was also something of a trooper. I had strong Steve Stone vibes from back in the day, watching Dan the Man run around with cotton wool shoved up his nostrils.

The goal did the power good for Delap. He was incredibly powerful and unselfish when needed. He could quite easily have pressed on when he was forced out wide on another occasion, but chose to make the correct pass instead.

1-0 up and the game became very nervy for Forest. We needed to finish them off whilst we were on top. One goal is never enough.

Erm, yep.

Whatever, a score draw away at Villa Park is not to be sniffed at. It looked like The OG felt the same as he brought on Sangare to shut up shop.

Nope. Villa fucked up with their substitutions and played out the final 10 minutes with 10 men.

Attack! Attack!

Attack! Attack! Attack!

Forest finished stronger and were clearly looking for the winner. We owe Villa one after the Europa semi last season.

And then it came. JESUS! He walks on the Trent.

And so our season finally gets going. 2-1 seems like a fair score. This is also the scoreline when it comes to European Cups lifted by both teams.

That’s some record that The OG has got against Villa. I hope we draw them in the FA Cup third round come the start of the year.

Oh yeah, SHOUT OUT to the Forest fans who made the short journey over to the West Midlands. They were magnificent from start to finish.

The film passed me by and so did this album at the time. I’m still not entirely sure what I have just to. At times it felt like the roll call ahead of a circus big top performance. At other times it was almost too meta-French. This is no bad thing. I like a bit of variety in my morning listening habits. This pricked up my interest and was thoughtful. It wouldn’t pass the old grey whistle test but it was a pleasant departure from some of the other music I’ve been listening to of late.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I was a layer down in clothing for the autumnal ride on Thursday lunchtime. The weather around the roll out for the Estuary Wilds loop was made for gilets - which was something of a shame as I have become a bit of a gilet ponce in recent years. Any excuse to wear them, but sadly not today.

I was feeling a little tired on two fronts and so decided to take it easy. Yesterday we put in 25,000+ steps, schlepping from East London down to Bankside, across to the West End, and then back over east. This was also my first major physical activity since something of a vaccination spree at the start of the week.

The only eventful thing to happen on this ride was the powerful stench of onions. These appear to be getting stronger and stronger each week. I think most have been picked from around the fields in the lanes. They’re just left there lying now, waiting to be collected.

There’s a metaphor in there for the dying days of the summer.

I approached this with some caution. I’m not really a fan of nu soul: too much vocal gymnastics and not enough, erm, soul in the actual delivery. I was pleased to see that this is only 37 minutes long. That’s pretty much a decent running time for any album.

“Global warming ain’t got nothing on this chick. My summer has gone frigid.”

… ‘aint going to win an Ivor Novello Award anytime soon.

The music is actually the winner: strong Prince vibes - and not just any old Prince vibes but some pre-Purple Rain stuff with some of the slowed down funk on offer here. Still not enough to tip it over the edge for me.

⭐ ⭐