Israel. Palestine.
Spooks.
It’s a dramatic intifada waiting to happen…
Showing posts with label Journo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Journo. Show all posts
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
Feature: review of Spooks, episode 5
Israel. Palestine.
Spooks.
It’s a dramatic intifada waiting to happen…
Friday, 15 October 2010
Feature: review of Spooks, episode 4
After last week’s light-hearted romp through cold-blooded killings, the real politik necessity of mutually assured destruction and a wealth of double-crossings, things in Spooks just took a turn for the worse.
Wednesday, 6 October 2010
Feature: The Shape of Broad Minds
This interview with hip-hop group The Shape of Broad Minds was originally written as a 'Ones to Watch' feature in the print edition of Clash Magazine. It's since been posted on their website: see it here.
Ones to Watch: The Shape of Broad Minds
Jneiro Jarel, the mastermind behind Philadelphia’s latest addition to the hip-hop pantheon, is in something of a rare state when Clash gets him on the blower. It’s that old familiar tale: one drink on a Friday night and suddenly it’s 6am and you realise you’ve been chatting up a rather fetching lamp stand for the last few hours…
Ones to Watch: The Shape of Broad Minds
Jneiro Jarel, the mastermind behind Philadelphia’s latest addition to the hip-hop pantheon, is in something of a rare state when Clash gets him on the blower. It’s that old familiar tale: one drink on a Friday night and suddenly it’s 6am and you realise you’ve been chatting up a rather fetching lamp stand for the last few hours…
Feature: 4Hero
This interview with drum and bass veterans 4Hero was originally written as a double-page spread, but appeared as a one-page feature in the print edition of Clash Magazine. It's since been posted in full as part of the Best of Clash series: see it here.
4Hero
Despite being more concerned with moving to big school when the first wave of acid house washed over a suspicious Britain in the late 80s and early 90s, today’s clubbers are all too familiar with the roll of drum and bass and the clatter of rave. No one bats an eye when the distinctive rhythms and bass lines of Britain’s homegrown dance culture are dropped in clubs these days, and even indie bands are cadging the tricks that the likes of Metalheadz and Roni Size used to pack a dancefloor with and keep it sweating back in the day. For old scene heads 4hero, however, it’s been a long journey from illegal shows in north London warehouses to being radio staples and Mercury Music Prize nominated doyens of the dinner party soundtrack.
4Hero
Despite being more concerned with moving to big school when the first wave of acid house washed over a suspicious Britain in the late 80s and early 90s, today’s clubbers are all too familiar with the roll of drum and bass and the clatter of rave. No one bats an eye when the distinctive rhythms and bass lines of Britain’s homegrown dance culture are dropped in clubs these days, and even indie bands are cadging the tricks that the likes of Metalheadz and Roni Size used to pack a dancefloor with and keep it sweating back in the day. For old scene heads 4hero, however, it’s been a long journey from illegal shows in north London warehouses to being radio staples and Mercury Music Prize nominated doyens of the dinner party soundtrack.
Feature: Lethal Bizzle
This interview with grime-indie crossover MC Lethal Bizzle originally appeared as a one-page feature in the print edition of Clash Magazine. It's since been posted on the website as part of the Best of Clash series: see it here.
Lethal Bizzle
Grime’s image isn’t really one of feet-up-telly-on domesticity. If the popular conception of the UK’s most misunderstood urban music scene is to be believed, MCs are more likely to be sharpening butterfly knives and loading baggies with baking soda to shot to drunks on Coldharbour Lane than they are to be putting a brew on and flicking over to the Big Brother highlights.
Lethal Bizzle
Grime’s image isn’t really one of feet-up-telly-on domesticity. If the popular conception of the UK’s most misunderstood urban music scene is to be believed, MCs are more likely to be sharpening butterfly knives and loading baggies with baking soda to shot to drunks on Coldharbour Lane than they are to be putting a brew on and flicking over to the Big Brother highlights.
Reviews: The Clash Essential 50
Written for Clash Magazine in March 2009 for their 'top 50 albums of the last five years' feature, The Clash Essential 50.
I contributed five reviews to Clash's look back at the 50 best albums published in the magazine's five-year lifespan. Click the links below to see them on the Clash website, or read them all in full below the fold. Here they are, in reverse order:
I contributed five reviews to Clash's look back at the 50 best albums published in the magazine's five-year lifespan. Click the links below to see them on the Clash website, or read them all in full below the fold. Here they are, in reverse order:
Feature: review of The Edible Garden
This show... irked me. Beyond belief. From the visual style to the chintzy script and right-on folky soundtrack, The Edible Garden was everything that makes me go 'nyergh' at lifestyle shows on the TV.
Before I go crazy with rage again, check out the review on WWM or read it below the fold.
Transport For Lunatics
Comment piece written for music and culture blog Shoots Bands and Leaves on 4/10/2010
As any of you who while away your three score and 10 scurrying to and from work through London's vast network of underground caverns will know, there's a tube strike on today.
Being a right-on cyclist with my own Lycra and everything, the ructions between the RMT's subterranean rat-men and their awful overlords doesn't really bother me that much. Sure, the hordes of grey-faced commuters forced blinking into the weak October sunlight make the journey a little more fraught: the roads through the city are packed with bikes, mopeds and cars clearly piloted by the criminally insane and there's a far higher incidence of pedestrian lemmings hurling themselves from the kerb with frighteningly blank eyes. Still, it's helping Londoners engage with each other more than the usual commute does - even if the brief spark of human contact only seems to light a conflagration of communal moaning.
What's tickled me is the news coverage of the strike. The BBC covered it in the London local news section: fair enough. They also featured it as a headline story in the main body of BBC Breakfast, which made me wonder if we'd see similar stories if Nottingham's tram drivers took a day off in a huff. Is the Underground really national news, or is it just a parochial dust-up that's easy to send a reporter to?
The cries of 'union stooge!' that went up when Ed Miliband was elected as Labour leader have made industrial action more noteworthy. I'm looking forward to seeing how his relationship with the unions unfolds as the cuts start to bite, and curious to see how the coalition PR machine swings into action to fight a renewed opposition.
Whatever happens, I hope tube workers decide not to strike again in November, as all the extra people lurching around above ground do have one rubbish effect on my ride: I can't sing embarrassing songs to myself without attracting attention. And with an internal jukebox which inexplicably started playing 'La Isla Bonita' all last week, any involuntary singing as I peg down City Road can only end in humiliation.
As any of you who while away your three score and 10 scurrying to and from work through London's vast network of underground caverns will know, there's a tube strike on today.
Being a right-on cyclist with my own Lycra and everything, the ructions between the RMT's subterranean rat-men and their awful overlords doesn't really bother me that much. Sure, the hordes of grey-faced commuters forced blinking into the weak October sunlight make the journey a little more fraught: the roads through the city are packed with bikes, mopeds and cars clearly piloted by the criminally insane and there's a far higher incidence of pedestrian lemmings hurling themselves from the kerb with frighteningly blank eyes. Still, it's helping Londoners engage with each other more than the usual commute does - even if the brief spark of human contact only seems to light a conflagration of communal moaning.
What's tickled me is the news coverage of the strike. The BBC covered it in the London local news section: fair enough. They also featured it as a headline story in the main body of BBC Breakfast, which made me wonder if we'd see similar stories if Nottingham's tram drivers took a day off in a huff. Is the Underground really national news, or is it just a parochial dust-up that's easy to send a reporter to?
The cries of 'union stooge!' that went up when Ed Miliband was elected as Labour leader have made industrial action more noteworthy. I'm looking forward to seeing how his relationship with the unions unfolds as the cuts start to bite, and curious to see how the coalition PR machine swings into action to fight a renewed opposition.
Whatever happens, I hope tube workers decide not to strike again in November, as all the extra people lurching around above ground do have one rubbish effect on my ride: I can't sing embarrassing songs to myself without attracting attention. And with an internal jukebox which inexplicably started playing 'La Isla Bonita' all last week, any involuntary singing as I peg down City Road can only end in humiliation.
Now playing! 'Nothing to See', Four Tet
A little bit of content written for music and culture blog Shoot Bands and Leaves on 4/10/2010
Going further down the glitchy rabbit hole than he did in There is Love in You, Four Tet's contribution to the new Soul Jazz compilation Future Bass is brilliant. 'Nothing to See' drifts on warm fuzz, burbling synths and chiming cut-up instruments, loosely anchored by the stomping, clubby kick drum than ran through his last LP and The Ringer EP.
Four Tet's post-house production sounds so organic you can imagine it growing on trees in a shaded, mossy forest. I love it - you should too.
Going further down the glitchy rabbit hole than he did in There is Love in You, Four Tet's contribution to the new Soul Jazz compilation Future Bass is brilliant. 'Nothing to See' drifts on warm fuzz, burbling synths and chiming cut-up instruments, loosely anchored by the stomping, clubby kick drum than ran through his last LP and The Ringer EP.
Four Tet's post-house production sounds so organic you can imagine it growing on trees in a shaded, mossy forest. I love it - you should too.
Feature: review of Spooks, episode 3
I love Spooks' blend of slick production, fast-paced action and brilliantly lunatic plotting. It's one of the few programmes I'll actively tune in to on the telly.
Check the review out in situ at WWM or read it in full below the fold.
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