onionbagblog

And so Forest’s annual On the Beach day came around a little earlier this season. Two games to spare, with plenty of breathing space ahead of Bournemouth at home. What were we all so worried about?

The team news landed. MGW. Blimey. He’s stepped up big time this season following the #lolspurs fall out of last summer. He had no need to play this match with his mask. It’s clear that he still has a point to prove ahead of the World Cup.

Vitor meanwhile on BBC Radio Nottingham was living in fantasy land. Or maybe something got a little lost in translation?:

“We won the Champions League.”

Steady the buffers, gaffer.

He went on to clarify:

“We won our Champions League.”

Which is a rather chest-beating way of saying we’re not getting relegated, a new contract should be in the post, job well done.

VERY well done. I’ve never been so chilled watching a Forest match in recent seasons. If this is what mid-table obscurity feels like, then bring it on.

All we’ve ever really wanted in the four years since the PL return is to be safe by Easter, and then coast in as the sun starts to shine. Last season was an outlier.

There was strong end of season vibes ahead of KO. I can’t say I’m a fan of player’s kids coming out with the team. But then I haven’t got any kids, and I’m never likely to be leading Forest out at Old Trafford.

The game was wide open right from the KO. Man Utd struck first whilst the Forest players were rolling out the beach towels.

But wait! What’s this?

Morato? Where the chuff did that come from? Tie that BEAST of a bloke down with a ten year contract, erm, right…?

Man Utd went ahead again, before the sun tan lotion could be rubbed into the muscular thighs of the Brazilian BEAST. Whatever. It was that type of game.

The dodgy VAR - which is putting it politely - wasn’t really in the spirit of the end of term feel. It will do little to silence the growing sense of the PL Cartel, and accusations of being corrupt as fuck.

Cometh the hour, cometh the man in the mask. MGW’s second for Forest was the goal of the game. I was known to be a rather tricky player myself back in the day - there you go again, making a Forest Crap Match Report all about yourself, etc.

But the delicacy of the touch by MGW, and the skill and foresight requited to pull that off was incredible. Not only should he be on the plane to the WC, he should be starting alongside Anderson.

The game then went a little bonkers, with basketball breaks up and down the pitch. Either team could easily have scored a couple more.

It wasn’t to be for Forest. There’s no shame in a 3-2 defeat away at Old Trafford, including a very poor VAR decision against us. I would be fuming if we weren’t already ordering in the margaritas ahead of KO.

Bournemouth back at the World Famous next weekend promises to be the beach part to end all beach parties.

“There was a designated orgy room, and the ballroom was given a makeover with “garish psychedelic paintings all over the flaking walls”. A photo on the Facebook group, posted by someone called Wavey Gravy, shows a tie-dyed teepee pitched up in the grounds where Miss Morleena had supped on her cold collation.”

Superb read from The Londoner on the old Eel Pie Island Hotel.

London Colosseum: Olympic Park Could Get NBA Basketball Arena

via [Londonist](London Colosseum: Olympic Park Could Get NBA Basketball Arena)

Another G Force cardi, another absolute BEAUT of a beast. tbh, I’m not quite sure what happened here. There I was one morning, slurping tea and refreshing a G Force Vinted feed and WOH! Shit the bed. £10.

BUY IT BLOODY NOW.

I didn’t even stop to check the size or any other details. My general rule of thumb for all things G Force is one size fits all - and yep, I do own some women’s items in my wardrobe.

Plus also just BLOODY BUY IT. These original items are getting rarer and rarer to source. The new Re-Imagined imprint coming out of the Fair City sells cardigans for £500. They’re worth every penny.

But ten quid for a 90’s original? Blimey.

There’s no G Force label on the cardigan, but I’m 99% sure it’s an original. The zip and cut of the collar is something of a dead giveaway. Plus who is going to be turning around G Force knock offs?

A weekend of G Force poncing around the Estuary Wilds awaits.

You need to approach Time Out without a Jazz Head - which is just as well, seeing as though I haven’t really got one anyway. I’ve read about experimental time signatures and innovation. Fuck that. This album is a great listen, purely for the music and the mood itself. You don’t need to be a muso to appreciate the melodies that drift in and out, whilst the light touch on the drums and bass hold it all together. It sounds timeless, effortless. Not a diss, but a great album to work along to.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

We waited for a break in the Estuary Wilds rain before heading out to the Table of Dreams on Thursday. We very much welcome the rain - we’ve got a new roof that needs rain-testing. But let us get in a game of wiff waffle first, yeah?

It was hit and miss. It was also bloody cold. The table itself had a puddle in one corner. The tactic was to aim for the puddle, and kill the ping pong ball stone dead. Best laid plans, etc.

I raced to a 2-1 lead. I walked away with a 3-2 defeat. It’s all about consistency.

This feels SO 1992 - which is what you would expect from an album released in… 1992. It’s that US slacker feel, that tries just a little too hard to put across the can’t be arsed attitude. They clearly can be arsed. The end product is half decent, sounding like the soundtrack for endless US lifestyle telly dramas. I’d forgotten about Hey Jealousy - a decent indie pop song. But overall, New Miserable Experience is one of the reasons why Britpop had to happen.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

An album that straddles DUMB NY punk, and also opens up with ideas about Americana. Tom Petty ran with this a decade or so later.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Clinical, yet still soulful. There’s also an element of irony in some of the cold-hearted approach. The Model remains a masterpiece. It’s one of those staple songs that you know inside out from your youth, yet never grow tired of hearing it. I really should dive deeper into Kraftwerk.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

“The season is not even over yet, but already it feels more prolonged than the making of a My Bloody Valentine album.”

Arf. David Marples on what has been a ‘challenging’ season at the World Famous.

‘Build it and they will come’: the hopes new life for former lido will revive Weston-super-Mare

via The Graun

“He does not have a history of left wing activism to bury. He has always sucked up to the rich and powerful, to the privatisers, the weapons manufacturers and the warmongers.”

Socialist Worker on Slimy Streeting

Most commuters don’t trust bike storage at stations, putting them off cycling, new survey finds

via road.cc

I’ve finally cracked on the 1,001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die list. I’ve heard them all, I haven’t died. I win, right?

Ever since R introduced me to the list around three years ago, the morning routine has involved firing up the random generator for an album to listen to.

I’ve really enjoyed the exposure to music I wouldn’t normally explore, as well as having the exact same album as R. We could both leave a review, and then compare and contrast our tastes.

We long finished the list a couple of months ago. The dregs were then served up, aka listener recommendations. As R pointed out this morning, these are albums that individual users THINK you must listen to, but that is rarely the reality. Ikd-sj’s World’s End Fruit was the breaking point.

And so instead we’re exploring Colin Larkin’s list. It has many of the usual suspects, and reads a little like a Q magazine Best Albums Ever list. But I still think there are some obvious gaps in my musical listening, not to mention my CD shelves.

There’s some duplication with the 1,001 albums list. I’ll skip those. Plus also some of the absolute shite. Sorry, but I’m not starting off with Rob Zombie.

Listening to a new album at the start of every day has been in the most part, a positive experience. It’s broadened my taste, and emptied my wallet.