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“No more news without community involvement. Let’s make it community published. How does that sound?”

via @DaveWiner

I love it when we wear all red. It’s a Munich thing, innit. I hate it when we wear all read and play pants. It’s a DIRTY Leeds thing, innit.

OH MY DAYS. This was a shocker. I thought that we had seen the worst of Dyche ball with Bournemouth away, the two Everton games, and Villa away. Not to mention Sturm and Braga on the Euro jollies.

But gosh. This was a performance that has a Head Coach checking the diary to see when the next international break is. Phew. Lucky for Dyche that the Sacking Fortnight isn’t around the corner. He’ll probably last longer than the PM now.

It became clear right from the start that we’re crap on corners. OK, so we’re not privy to what takes place on the training pitch. But the name is something of a dead giveaway.

Corners are your set piece advantage. You get to deliver a cross without being closed down. Your own players should know what is coming. It seemed at times that Forest didn’t even know who should be taking them.

The first Leeds goal was unforgivable. The defence was split wide open. What made it worse was that it had to be an ex-D***y player who benefitted.

The second goal wasn’t much better; the third was a disaster, coming so soon after the break. Like the previous Dyche ball disasters, I really felt for the poor Forest fans who had made the trip on a piss poor evening weather wise.

This season will be remembered for many things: three Head Coaches; Edu loan deals that have gone wrong. But Forest losing in the rain, again, again and again is my lasting memory.

The DIRTY Leeds scarf twirlers did my nut in. So did the substitutions. MGW coming off for Yates? wtf is that all about?

The Big Fella up front at least understood his job description. Pizza Crouch did well to make contact with a high ball and head it in. I don’t think the other Forest players were even given a job description by Dyche.

And so it seems that Dyche ball is our only route to survival. Deep, high crosses, all hit in the hope of the Big Fella muscling in. One nil wins here and there, goalless draws. A fourth from bottom finish, and then pray that the Big Fat Greek calls time on the whole experiment.

I hate having my weekends ruined by constantly having to look out for other results to see where that leaves us.

3am Eternal

In Kardboard, Komrades #23

A private tour inside Lambeth Fire Station, London Fire Brigade’s Art Deco HQ

via @JanesLondon

“Lime bike boss proposes adjusting traffic lights “to reward safe cyclists”

Good luck with that one, as they say.

This sounds more like a mix tape than an album. I love the chopping and changing of styles and references points between each track. You can’t imagine it being recorded anywhere but East London during a particular time. Like all the best albums, it borrows from just about everyone, without ever trying to hide this. It’s disposable music that deserves to be revisited every now and then as a reminder of what was possible.

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It’s difficult to approach a Dire Straits album without all the headband bullshit that exists around them. As ever, it’s me that’s got the problem, not them. As a debut, this is very strong. The songwriting and musicianship is a million miles away from what was making headlines in the music press at the time. I kinda like that. In their own way, Dire Straits didn’t give a shit, and just did their thing. I also like the very English approach to blues and singing with a Geordie accent. Forget the band name, enjoy the music.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

“So if you want a £5 English breakfast, to get your watch fixed, to buy some jewellery or get hold of an egg timer, go in whilst you still can and say hello.”

Left Lion on the demise of the Vicky Centre Market. And yep, I use to work there.

This is a far more acceptable introduction to the Good Captain. I’ve always struggled with Trout Mask, going back decades now. I should really just give up on it. Safe As Milk is… safe. It’s also very bluesy without all the out of tune wanderings. The bass is a bloody beast throughout. It feels as though it’s anchored to the ground. I’ve still no idea what it’s all about. I like some mystique in my music, just not the Trout Mask level of madness.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I’m starting to slowly, slowly soak up the sheer joy that is the Cafe Bleu Special Edition release - and this isn’t even the best Style Council album. Fast forward to Our Favourite Shop if you really want to immerse yourself in a mid 80’s full on soulful attack of Thatcherism.

Initially I was a little meh about the Cafe Bleu Special Edition. I’ve heard it all before. If you’ve got the five CD set Complete Adventures box set, then you’ve pretty much got the entire TSC back catalogue from start to finish. But as we have found out in The Beatles Universe, there’s never a definitive back catalogue.

Cafe Bleu Special Edition has been teasing with some studio outtakes and demos that haven’t been heard before. There’s always the disclaimer that demos are just that, and remain unreleased for that very reason.

But it’s always nice to soak up more content, in the highly unlikely event that TSC will ever release any new material again (although Mick and Paul are back together doing some promo around the release.)

There’s a little confusion on the format and packaging here. If you want the full on Special Edition experience then you need to fork out for the physical media. This includes six discs (gosh) including BBC sessions a live recording from around the time. The streaming platforms have cut this down to 54 songs that form the vinyl release, clocking in at just over three hours. Either way - it’s an awful lot to take in.

There’s also been a few errors along the way. The first pressing of the release has included the wrong version of The Whole Point on the actual Cafe Bleu album. This is one way to go about pissing off TSC archivists - although it also makes for a collectable release, with the label withdrawing the albums and offering a replacement.

I can’t listen to the streaming release from start to finish. Three hours takes up a lot of the time in your day. Instead it’s become a daily pleasure this week to dip in and out, as and when time allows.

What becomes clear is that TSC achieved an incredible body of work in such a short space of time - and that’s just the 18 months or so framed around Cafe Bleu. By the end of 1984 they were done with all the Cappuccino Kid styling and wanted to try and take down the Tory government through pop and politics.

This is essentially one and a half albums. Special Edition bundles up Introducing - the mini TSC album that, ahem, introduced the band. I use to love mini albums back in the day - £2,99, six or seven tracks, all packaged up beautifully. Introducing stands alone as being a very ambitious opening statement.

We go from The Jam melodies of Speak Like a Child, through to the funk socialist anthem of Money Go Round, and then into the seasonal funk of Long Hot Summer. Cafe Bleu hasn’t even started yet. Oh - and don’t forget Paris Match which is on there as well.

This is the sound of a band - a collective - being given the time and space to experiment. You don’t get that now in the tightly regulated format of the music industry. A couple of piano instrumentals from Mick? Sure. Who needs Weller, anyway.

Then we land at the singles that bridged Introducing and Cafe Bleu, with Solid Bond (a Jam hangover) and My Ever Changing Moods. You’d be hard pushed to find two more uplifting and perfect pop songs that fitted the mood and energy of the time. They still both stand up today.

The second disc of the original Cafe Bleu from start to finish remains a late night listening pleasure. I still get a Pavlovian response of wanting to spark up a fag and lean out of my teenage bedroom window whilst listening. Sorry, Mum.

At the time, the nu jazz didn’t seem all that weird to me. My ears were fresh and open to new sounds and directions - much like Weller himself. Oh hang on - here we go, comparing myself to Paul Weller…

But thinking back, going from a meat ‘n’ two veg Mod power trio - albeit a bloody good one - to releasing a jazz album less than two years later? You can see why some of the old school parka crowd were a little pissed off.

Cafe Bleu is remarkable. Out of the opening six tracks on Side A (ha!), Weller only sings on two of them. It’s all about the Council Collective, innit.

Paris Match with Tracey Thorn, and then the solo piano version of My Ever Changing Moods helped to shape my own understanding of modernism back in 1984. It also introduced me to coffee that wasn’t Nescafe Instant.

Side 2 is equally diverse, not to mention a little bonkers. From Dropping Bombs on The Whitehouse (you try releasing that in 2026) to the laid back love vibes of You’re The Best Thing. There’s also the rallying call of Strength of Your Nature, and the absolute youthful optimism of Headstart for Happiness.

What a debut!

Disc 3 rounds up some rarities. You’re the Dub Thing, Big Boss Groove 12", and the Money Go Round Dance Mix. You can skip these.

Disc 4 is for the TSC nerds.

OH HAI!

Here we have a pre TSC demo of Long Hot Summer (The Jam could never have got away with this), and a series of songs that have been unreleased up until now: Up for Grabs, Take it to the Top, Mick’s Demo, Funk Interlude, Summertime Song, Come Away With Me, Boy Hairdresser and I’m in the Mood for Gazza.

TSC really were an experimental outfit at this point in time.

Of course all of this is written through the a fan boy prism. Poke around the darker edges of the modern interweb, and you’ll find similar eulogies to Gawd awful Grateful Dead boxsets.

But you needed to be there at the time and to live the Cafe Bleu period. It shaped those shifting from the brawn of Mod, through to something a little more sophisticated, whilst simultaneously bringing down Western capitalism.

The future we always leave to late: Forward ever, backwards never.

You don’t play a Black Flag album to enjoy it. You play it as a release for all the fucked up things that are happening out there. I wasn’t in the mood for it this morning. The Carpenters seemed more appropriate for my mood. Damaged does its job well though. I would have bloody loved this as a 15 year old. It didn’t feel right, forty years later.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐