'Tis the season to list stuff

All the British blogs I like (namely Davey and his cohorts) are putting up lists. Well, there'll be none of that here. Unless I was to list the movies from the previous year which I haven't seen, or the albums I never bought. Don't get me wrong- I want to see No Country for Old Men, 3.10 to Yuma and so forth. But the only film I've seen this year which appears on all of these lists is the Bourne Supremacy. To my shame I saw all 3 of the Bourne movies this year. I pretty much refused to watch anything with Matt Damon from Good Will Hunting onwards, with the exception of his appearances in Kevin Smith movies. The Bourne movies are fantastic, because of the mouthwatering locations, the flawless action sequences (I was a bit bored by the car chase at the end of Ultimatum, but never mind) but mainly the fact that Jason Bourne is, for want of a better description, hard as fuck. But It's not all about how good he looks in a sweaty T-shirt. Hell, I even raised my opinion of Clive Owen after his appearance in the first instalment. So now I just think he's a twat.

300 replaced Gladiator as my guilty pleasure, and Ive even forgiven Mr Butler for P.S. I Love You'. I downright cackled at Hot Fuzz but it was Christmas and I may have been overcompensating. Another film I saw and was greatly impressed by was The Departed. Damo's performance may have even been the cause of my finally relinquishing and watching the Bourne Identity. I also enjoyed the Joe Strummer biopic and *gulp* I am Legend. When I move back to England, I promise to watch more movies.

As far as music goes, I've lifted a few albums from the Canadians I work with- from soundscapey stuff like Apparat, to obvious gear like MIA or Bedouin Soundclash, even Tori Amos-lite like Dresden Dolls - and bought the obvious stuff- QOTSA, Super Furry Animals. I like Era Vulgaris, but then I wasn't as hard on Lullabies to Paralyze (sic) as some. The SFA album is still slowly growing on me, despite the hideous artwork and lack of invention. But mostly Ive been listening to Maximo Park. Their first album, full of angry tales of spurned love/lust and a desire to escape their (I should really be saying 'his') surroundings drew me in, and their second album did not disappoint. I get the feeling I shouldn't like them, and many of my friends continue to tell me so, but there's something about the bargain-basement Baudelaire that keeps me interested, even with that painfully obvious video for Books From Boxes, which I will not be showing below. Plus I spotted Meester Smith in a pub in town and approached him about working for Warp while he was watching the Sunderland game, and found him to be a very nice fella.

Shock of the year for me would be Babyshambles. Despite seeing the Libertines live I never really fell for them until it was all over and Mr Doherty was made the nation's favourite pariah. Like the Libertines, Babyshambles have a very hands-off approach to production, with The Clash's Mick Jones overseeing both Libs' efforts and Babyshambles' debut. Basically they do ten takes and choose the best one- a far cry from the likes of Razorlight or the Kaiser Chiefs, with their loops and synths and general shiteness. There are songs on the debut and on Shotter's Nation which I think will remain favourites for me for years to come, and there are also songs which just remind me of Steptoe & Son. Which is a good thing. I truly hope he can keep his head above water long enough to blow a B-movie actress' face off in his California mansion for touching his favourite bongo.

Surprisingly, I've been reading a lot of books. In my bar manager era, it might take me a year to finish a book, if indeed I bothered at all; I will never finish Mr Nice, even after the boring old get turns up his toes. But now, with all the air and rail travel and sleepless, sober nights, I find myself acquiring another book before I've finished the last. Im dipping into various forms; Russell Brand's autobiography was a welcome Christmas present. Haruki Murakami had been a source of intrigue; a lot of girls seem to read his books, and I wanted to know why, bringing me inches closer to their undie elastic. And of course there are the historical texts on World War 2 which Im constantly swiping from my brother in law, as well his wide range of travelogues and Americana.

So, yeah. Reading is fun, kids. I suppose this blog is far easier to read- and indeed to write- than the usual shoegazing, soul-searching whingebaggery. But don't worry, there'll be more of that next time.

Happy New Bleargh

New year, new ways to complain about the same stuff. I am at something of a crossroads- to quit or not to quit? Following the Biggest Show in the World ™, I’m not relishing the prospect of the year ahead. I’m just a lazy bastard, no doubt about it. However there are several other factors to consider, which I will outline, in no particular order.

It’s the 2nd of January as I write this, from Cologne, Koln or Keulen, depending on which language I’m speaking. This is ENGLISH, for the uninitiated. We are one show down, another is soon to follow and then we have no shows until the 25th. I’m on a salary though, so rather than whoring myself out freelance or just taking an ill-deserved holiday, I have to hang around the office, looking at cute kittens or douchebags and their latest photographic conquest. I don’t even have to look busy as such, I just have to be there. On the rare occasion I have to ask my superior in the next room anything, I find it’s usually easier by e-mail.

In the past year I have acquired a lovely, gorgeous, expensive, loving girlfriend. In England. She puts up with the fact that I’m somewhat underdeveloped regarding emotions and feelings and communication and other gay stuff. I’ve hatched a fantasy scenario whereby I continue to work for this company for a while, without having to hang around in the dead-time, this way I can get an apartment on the coast with my lovely lady, without the pants-shitting fear of coming back to England with no job. To my addled brain, it makes perfect sense, but my boss may think otherwise…

I’ve never been sure exactly what my job entails, as the contract is all in Dutch. But I do know it changed significantly 3 months in, and I gained a lot more responsibility, due to my boss’ attention being diverted to the aforementioned Big Show. I have a mental list of stuff I definitely have to do on each show-day, and the rest of my time is taken up dealing with whatever situations arise unforeseen. Most problems can be solved with money. I don’t even have to spend it myself; I have a runner to do the dirty work. As long as the figures balance at the end of the day, I don’t have to worry. Now that I have an Excel file worked out, I don’t even bother checking if I balance at the end; I just hand over the receipts and whatever cash I have- there’s no point looking for anymore because I remain honest and it is what it is.

On a recent trip to the offices to hand in paperwork and get more pocket-money, the human resources lady asked me to sign my contract- for the year I’d just worked, not the year to come. I held off on signing a new one, but I’m pretty sure there was no change in job-title and no pay-rise. It’s not the done thing to ask for such a thing, mostly I think because we’re all aware of how replaceable we are. Let’s face it, I was a glorified bartender before I did this, and the other guys on the payroll (hourly, I might add, the lucky bastards) were previously an ice cream man, a baggage handler at the local airport and a cucumber salesman. Considering we now go to the US four times a year and have Japan and Australia on the horizon, it’s little wonder they choose not to rock the boat.

While the company pays 100-plus Euro’s per night on hotel rooms for a dozen Canadian cameramen and sound-techs, I’m paying 500 euro (currently about 370 quid) a month to live in a cellar with no vacuum cleaner and mould in the roof.

OK, I think you get the point; I’m sick of my job and refuse to see the good points. This is a very long-winded way to say it, though. Maybe I should just do the Family Fortunes Test…
So, you can’t decide whether to quit your job? Let’s see…
Are you making a lot of money? Eh-Ehhh!!
Are the prospects good? Eh-Ehhh!!
Oh dear. So you must be having fun, right? Eh-Ehhh!!

I think I just answered the question that costs me what precious sleep I can get while living in an airless room with bars on the windows below a roundabout. Sorry to have taken up your time.