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Friday, 3 May 2013

Hungry like the wolf......

Me and football, a love affair that began when I was 3 years old. I can't pretend to be a loyal devoted fan of one team in fact I have 3 teams that I follow, I know, I know but you don't have to bleed a team to love 'em ok? I love football, it thrills me as much as it pisses me off, but I love it. Yes, I moan about referees decisions, bad behaviour, money, corruption blah blah blah but there's just something that I can't let go of.....

'Super Sunday' often sees me and 'him' shouting at the telly, holding our breath, trying not to throw something, there's an honesty in our passion, it's real. Don't even get me started on 'Soccer Saturday' drives me wild, I often throw out the C word, mainly aimed at Charlie Boy Nicholas......yet still I watch.

My lovely Dad took me to see Wolves when I was 3 years old, I don't remember it but from that day Wolves would always have a place in my heart. Regular readers will know my lovely Dad has been gone a while now but as I think about him I think about Wolves and the sorry mess they find themselves in. (In a shallow twist my allegience temporarily swerved to Aston Villa in the 1980's that had nothing to do with Tony Morley or Gary Shaw...ahem!) Anyway, back to Wolves and the sorry mess....should they have got rid of Mick? I dunno but to expect an inexperienced manager like Dean Saunders to keep them up was criminal. I don't like 'Deano', I'm sure he speaks highly of me too, but the job was/is way too big for him. No club deserves to stay in a league, no club is too big, but for me Wolves sorry demise hurts. I am not a mega fan, couldn't tell you their ideal first team but, it's Wolverhampton Wanderers, my Dad's team.

Should they go down tomorrow I will probabl;y shed a tear, football does that doesn't it? It hurts, none of the Wolves players know how I feel, nor, I suspect do they care, and they will have to shoulder the responsibility of the downfall of a club that has always been in my heart, big words from a part-time fan eh? I am not calling for the manager to be sacked, I'm not going to slate any players, after all it is only football....but it still hurts.

Good luck tomorrow Wolves, play hard, play fast, play with heart, play for my Dad.

Wednesday, 17 April 2013

I couldn't help it if I tried........

Pencil skirt, seamed stockings and a bit of trepidation, nothing like a Monday night gig! The occasion, a birthday treat for the other half, tickets to see Dexys at the Duke of York's theatre. Trepidation? Well while I knew Dexys soulful side I can't say I knew enough, Al, however.....there was always the fear that they would be awful too, so yeah, trepidation!

Buoyed with a swift pint we made our way to the theatre. Small, compact and shit hot seats!Result!A speed freak poet gave us an interesting introduction to the gig, I'm pretty sure it was great poetry but as he was very nervous and talking at one hundred miles an hour I can only go by the reaction of the small group who obviously knew him, they were laughing and cheering so I guess he was great!Is Edward Woodward still alive? Just asking...anyway poet leaves stage left....keyboard maestro plays the introduction to One Day I'm Going to Soar album....and then it happened....Kevin Rowland's sweet, delicious, smooth, whole voice broke through the darkness...you know when something hits you on a level you that just can't quite quantify...imagine this, take good quality chocolate, melt in a bowl, take a spoonful, put it into your mouth and now try and describe what you are experiencing, that, my friends, was Kevin Rowlands voice.....divine. As I said I haven't really had enough exposure to Dexys/Dexys Midnight Runners, I knew the newish album and liked it, though to be honest it's a difficult listen if you're a lyrics kinda person, musically its rather marvellous.

Lights up and there they are, laid bare. No faffy back drops, all looking rather dashing in their 1940's-esque clobber, spats an essential....the first part of the gig was the new album in it's entirety, non-stop. Honestly? It was a tad wanky nay theatrical, but I expected that and it worked. Mr Rowland seemed nervy and intense, I also expected that. His sweet sweet voice smothering me with such velvety joy I spent most of the time, eyes shut allowing the sound to coat me, engulf me, affect me.

Trademark violin, trombone and sax made the band boom, tight and happy to respect to Mr Rowland's talent, they were made to make music together.

The stage was small which, I felt, inhibited them at times, the sense of theatre was heightened with little scenarios, I didn't really think it was needed, but I get why they did it.

Stand out tracks? Difficult as each song had it's merits.... 'Incapable of Love', 'It's ok John Joe' 'Tell Me When my Light Turns Green' and a Caribbean-esque version of 'Geno' remained with me on the journey home so I guess they're the ones that come to mind.


In short, Kevin Rowland's voice has changed, today it seems more angst ridden, more whole and oh so silky smoothe. The gig was as bonkers as I expected but nothing can take away the affect it had on me, which is all you can ask for on a Monday night eh?!