Unlistenable. But I think that’s the point. I pressed on, all the same. I quite enjoyed the rhythmic nature of it all. Plus some of the samples. Water drips against an industrial backdrop on Negativ Nein works well. Three stars for an unlistenable album is not bad going.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐
Walking the line from R ‘n’ B over to something a little let looser. You can almost hear the sound of the trousers widening at the hem as the album progresses. The title track stands out. It’s almost pop perfection. Some of the more serious workouts sounded laboured. The soulful elements are a delight, the muscle bound muso riffs not so.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐
YouGov poll shows only one group sees London as ‘safe’ – the people who actually live there
To the Essex Sports Arena! To watch some volleyball! And basketball!
But we managed to balls it up. Bugger.
My diary said women’s volleyball at 2pm, men at 4pm. I thought we would catch the men at 4pm, and then hang around for the women’s basketball at 6:30pm. Sports Billy, etc.
We rocked up at the Arena and it was absolutely empty, apart from some fuss ball nets covering all the courts. Most odd.
Ah. Betcha there is some fuss ball tournament, and the volleyball and basketball are on in the Sports Hall next door. The Rebs had already mailed us to say this is where the basketball would be taking place.
My timing as ever, was incredibly fashionably late. The volleyball net was being taken down, with both games having already been played - midday and 2pm, innit.
Oh well. We only have another two and a half hours to kill on campus in out of term time before the basketball begins. It would have been a right pain in the arse to make the half hour walk back home, settle for a short while, and then head out again.
We swerved the SU Bar, and went for the grown up choice of the rather lovely green eco coffee place, that popped up next door a few years ago. An hour and a half was spent slurping hot chocolate and cream, whilst scrolling football updates.
Finally the Rebs were ready for us in the Sports Hall. This now feels like a strange venue to watch elite level basketball. The University needed to build the Essex Sports Arena to step up. Games inside here suggest an organisation on the up, rather than playing in an old 80’s sports hall.
This was the exact same location where I sat my undergrad exams some 35 years ago. It’s where I was first introduced to the idea of aerobics for a very temporary time period, plus also the scene of my last sending off in football.
We took up our positions on the front row, just as the Rebs were starting their warm ups an hour ahead of tip off. It was a very different viewing experience. Even during the warm up, you got to experience the speed and physicality of the players.
Tip off came, with the Rebs playing Caledonian Gladiators in a Cup Quarter Final. I lose track of the different competitions and formats. But we played the same team just before Christmas in a Cup semi. Gladiators left with a victory. These games are developing into quite a strong rivalry.
The first half was scrappy, played out at an intense pace from both teams. The passes were there, but there was no holding back with some of the ball play and interceptions. I ended up with a Rebs player almost sitting on my lap after one particularly tasty encounter.
Rebs took a 25-24 lead into the first quarter buzzer, hinting at the tightness of the contest that was to come. This was pretty much mirrored with a 49-48 lead at HT.
We noticed after the break that the Gladiator players all had what looked like a bicycle light on each trainer. On closer inspection - we were on the front row - and it became clear that these were GPS trackers. This is a VERY professional league.
Gladiators finally pulled away in the third. Everything seemed to sink for them. Rebs played well, but the baskets just weren’t landing. Rebs were up against it, heading into the 4th trailing 84-67.
It all got a little nasty, both on the court and on the bench. I’m surprised no one was fouled out of the game. Gladiators were deserving of their 108-84 road win.
Here’s a new one for me: Maxine Funke. Don’t be fooled by the name. Maxine is far from the funky diva. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Instead, she’s a New Zealand based artist who produces some very haunting melodies. No surprises that it was the ever excellent Late Junction that first alerted me.
In particular, the track Let’s Go! Another Year seemed to fit the mood for me right now. There’s a very light touch to the production behind the almost constrained vocals. Think Nina - Nordenstam, deffo not Simone - who would fit the slightly bonkers funky diva description.
Timeless Town is the latest album release. It sounds perfect for the first few weeks of the new year, despite being released in autumn of last year.
Late Junction rarely fails to deliver. It’s an outpost of radio that somehow still manages to break through all the bullshit that occupies the airwaves elsewhere.
Oh - and SHOUT OUT to Mule’s Oddcaste which is playing a similar role on a local level.
Truth be told, I wasn’t really up for the Cup. Honest. I wasn’t really up for the Cup when we reached the semis last year. The Wembley “we’ve had a lovely day out” experience for the semis is all about the commercialisation of the Cup. I may have let my guard drop a little if we had reached the Final.
Yeah, yeah - that’s an easy thing to say. Especially in hindsight after watching yet another lacklustre display from Forest away at Wrexham on Friday evening. The first half Shit Show hurt even more, knowing that Forest were being exposed yet again with a live TV audience.
This was the weird prism in which I use to watch Forest in the 80’s and 90’s. I could handle a defeat I had seen in the flesh, as long as my friends from around the country at the time hadn’t seen us play poorly. I was quite the social climber back in the day, with fancy friends in far flung places such as Barking and Ilford.
But now the game has changed. Every crappy little half-arsed tackle is clipped up and put up on X, seconds after slapping my forehead back at home at how shit Forest have become this season. What a world we live in.
Which is a long-winded way of saying that I could write a highbrow tactical essay here to explain how Forest’s second string struggled in the first half at Wrexham going 2-0 down, before the big boy cavalry came on and added a little fight pulling a goal back; we were exposed and were down and out at 3-1. CHO then came to the rescue and took us to extra time and pens. Poor young Omari - although he was off the pace for most of the game.
You’ll get to read far more in-depth analysis of how fragile the fringe players at Forest are elsewhere. The Forest Focus post-match stream in particular did the usual excellent job of explaining what went wrong, and more crucially, why. tl;dr it’s all about chaos at the club and the lack of stability since the summer months.
I only half watched the game to be honest. I was double screening, with most of my attention spent BALLS DEEP in a spreadsheet, trying to work out some fiddly code that was causing my latest creation to crash. I bet that’s how Sean Dyche feels on the bus back from Wrexham. It’s a fiddly thing. One rogue mistake and you’re fucked.
From what I did see, I thought Morato started well. That didn’t last long, obvs. Bakwa looked promising - my notes say here. Both players were hooked at HT, showing my complete inability to read a game of football. I’m always from that old school that thinks 606 became unlistenable when it lost the two Danny’s and became a comedy tactical show instead. Give me fan culture, not armchair critics.
I could see that Luiz struggled to get into the game. He looks the part - a proper Rolls Royce elite player with the immaculate beard and fancy foreign swagger. Looks can often deceive.
McAtee meanwhile was AWOL throughout the entire 45 minutes he was on the pitch. wtf has happened here? The narrative over the summer was that Forest should feel honoured that he has chosen us, rather than a big payday over in Germany. I would seriously pick up the phone to Young Nigel at Mansfield and loan him out in Division One for the rest of the season.
The refereeing in the first half was also poor. It was Sunday League standard with the Luiz Hand of God goal. I was convinced this wasn’t a goal after the first half a dozen replays. I’m open now to thinking that maybe the ball hit his shoulder, and not his arm.
But that’s just papering over the many cracks in what is a very fragile Forest team. Even a win away in Wrexham wouldn’t have disguised the problems we have ahead in the PL.
I upped my own spreadsheet game in the second half. Like I said - I wasn’t up for the Cup. I followed the flow of the game, but not the detail. I was surprised we managed to take to pens. SHOUT OUT to CHO with what was a superb goal to draw us level.
I did watch the shoot out. Not Taiwo, please, NOT TAIWO was my mantra. I would have preferred to see Murillo rather than Omari step up for the all important fifth kick.
And then we come to Dyche. I didn’t listen to the interview with Sir Colin of West Bridgford late in the evening. It was way past my bedtime. I saw a brief tease online, and then caught up with the trashing of his team in the morning.
Blimey. Talk about throwing half your team under the bus. Dyche basically told his fringe players in a very public outing that they aren’t worthy of playing for Forest. BC might have got away with this back in the day, but Dyche still has a lot to learn from the Master.
This leaves us with effectively two teams, two dressing rooms. The trusted twelve or so may just get us over the relegation red line in the PL, but if anything happens to any of them then we’re in deep shit.
A Cup run would have been bloody awful. But OF COURSE you would day that. But in-between fire fighting at home in the PL, and then taking a few fancy foreign trips in the Europa League, I could well do without the likes of another Exeter midweek away day.
Stick that in your silly spreadsheet.
The main aim for the WivGigs Thursday Social row was to avoid the rain. We could all see it coming on our various smart prediction apps; we could all see it and smell it in the Estuary Wilds air as we gathered down at the Sailing Club.
Actually, we couldn’t see it. There was a thick layer of mist hanging over the Colne, late afternoon. If this was a weekend row with the Sailing Club Cadets doing their dinghy thing, then navigation would have been a problem. But for a Thursday afternoon, we had the whole bloody estuary to ourselves.
I was put on stroke. I felt fine, but wasn’t really up for setting the pace. The crew was a mixture of experienced old sea dogs, and some new hands. I found it tricky finding a suitable compromise.
We weren’t helped by rowing through a channel full of shit. Suddenly the water turned brown. Bits and bobs of brown texture were rubbing against the oars. This was no time to start splashing around with some power strokes. Put a peg on your nose instead.
Whatever. We pressed on. Buoy 18 was reached. We had a little extra time and tide, and so decided to push on and turn at Buoy 16. The visibility weakened, yet still there was no rain. We powered back to the Sailing Club along a very high tide. Audacity was wrapped up and put to bed.
Yep - we beat the rain.
I don’t know what to honestly say about The Joshua Tree. It’s perfection, but it’s also U2. No musical snobbery here, nope. It was right for me at the time with a shiny new CD player paid for out of my first pay packet. It led me to exploring other types of music, meaning that I left U2 behind. I can’t diss it, as you would expect in a cool, Bono bashing way. The songs are great, the production is lush. It’s a pleasure to listen to from start to finish as a one off again. But I didn’t really say that, right?
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
“We had exactly this conversation about robotic process automation a few years back. And before that, cloud. And before that, CRM. And before that, I dunno, Lotus Notes.”
wtf. One of the worst closes passes I have seen. No further action.
Refused to listen.
⭐
