Platz 10: Rocco Deluca & The Burden mit "Bus Ride". "Bus ride, then i'm cross-town. I take my seat and watch the streets go by. Traffic lights, then a left hand turn... I'm almost to the street where you live on."
Die letzte Bahn war schon weg, ich nahm den Nachtbus. Ganz hinten sitzend, wo man die kleinsten Unebenheiten der badner Straßen noch so deutlich spürt, starrte ich in die Nacht. Gelbliche Lichter zogen an mir vorbei wie überdimensionale Glühwürmchen mit Schweifen. Verzerrte Wahrnehmung. Schuld war der Wein. Oder vielmehr der reichliche, wenn auch nicht übermäßige Genuss desselben. Im (neu erworbenen!) mp3-Spieler lief Rocco Deluca.
Platz 9: HoneyHoney mit "Bouncing Ball". "Forgot feeling shameless, we drove straight to Vegas and tried to seem cool. Now I like my sinnin', but husks of old women were all that I could afford."
Jeder, der ursprünglich aus einer Kleinstadt oder einem noch kleineren Dörfchen kommt und damals von der großen, aufregenden und weiten Welt geträumt hat, wird wohl irgendeinen Bezug zu "Bouncing Ball" finden können.
Platz 8: José González mit "Hand On Your Heart". "You know, it's one thing to say you love me, but another to mean it from the heart."
Eigentlich ist es fast schon ironisch, dass ich genau dieses Lied von José González ausgewählt habe. Das Original ist nämlich von Kylie Minogue...
Platz 7: Justin Nozuka mit "After Tonight". "You tell me where to steer, D-D-D-Darlin'."
Nachdem ich letztes Jahr einen Artikel in der Vanity Fair über ihn las, habe ich mir diese Woche endlich sein Album "Holly" zugelegt. Grandios beeindruckend.
Platz 6: Bright Eyes mit "Lua". "When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend; I'll get a coffee and a paper, have my own conversations with the sidewalk and the pigeons and my window reflection. The mask I polish in the evening by the morning looks like shit."
"Lua" wird wahrscheinlich auf immer und ewig mein Lieblingslied von Bright Eyes sein. So einfach und simpel. Und doch genialst.
Platz 5: Eric Clapton mit "Change The World". "If I could reach the stars I'd pull one down for you, shine it on my heart so you could see the truth."
Neulich summte Papa den ganzen Mittag "Change The World". Es traf mich wie ein Schlag, als ich mich daran erinnerte, wie ich das Video zum Song zum ersten Mal auf MTV sah und dann zu Recherchezwecken las, dass das ganze vor 12 Jahren passiert ist...
Platz 4: David Gray mit "Nos Da Cariad". "See its face beneath the glass, it murmurs on the breeze; like a long black Cadillac it passes 'neath the trees. What is it you're waiting for? Sweet love is on its knees. Go to sleep my one true love and find your heart's release."
Okay, Platz 4 fällt vielleicht etwas aus dem Rahmen, weil es nicht ganz so leise ist wie die anderen. Ist aber eben noch so'n Lied für die Ewigkeit.
Platz 3: Jarabe De Palo mit "Agua". "Pasión y ley - difícil mezcla. Agua y sed - serio problema."
Da muss ich eigentlich nicht mehr viel zu sagen. Eines der besten und perfektesten Lieder überhaupt.
Platz 2: Simon & Garfunkel mit "Old Friends". "Can you imagine us years from today, sharing a park bench quietly? How terribly strange to be seventy."
Winzerfest-Zeit bedeutet auch immer vorlesungsfreie Zeit, was die Wahrscheinlichkeit, über lange nicht gesehene Freunde zu stolpern, doch um ein Vielfaches erhöht. So geschehen vergangenen Donnerstag. Hat richtig gut getan!
Platz 1: Eva Cassidy mit "Time After Time". "Then you say: 'Go slow, I fall behind..'"
Gänsehaut. Jedes Mal.

So whose to worry
If our hearts get torn
When that hurt gets thrown
Don't you know this life goes on
And won't you kiss me
On that midnight street
Sweep me off my feet
Singing ain't this life so sweet

You ever listen to a song a hundred times, but not really hear it?

This is one of those songs for me. I have heard this song I don't know how many times, but never really listened to what the song was saying. I've always loved the melody, the piano, his voice.

Finally, I looked up the lyrics a few days ago, and now I think this song is one of the most romantic and beatiful songs ever written. The words are simple, elegant, and timeless. It is now my MySpace song, and it's a song that I would dance to under the stars, by the beach, or at my wedding (If I'm still young enough to dance by then!).

Maybe it just strikes a chord in me at this particular time in my life. Maybe I'm just tired of Alice in Chains. Who knows? Maybe it's just reflecting my more mellow and softer side that's showing these days. Yes, my friends, the Queen does have a softer side.

It is still one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard.

For now, I'm off to take my mellow self off to work on another query letter for the book I wrote. I received my first rejection letter today!

Here's to David Gray!

Cheers!

I'm out!

I gave up giving tours several years ago. After a few platonic friendships crossed the line into the murkiness of long distance love, followed by a looong spell with a live-in boyfriend, I became too busy, too important, to drive around the city with a band in tow. But something about the lads in the British import band Passenger, made me change my tune.

Passenger came to my tv show via Brighton and were sent to me by the gals at Girlie Action. Lead singer Mike Rosenberg, a baby face with a sharp wit and old soul, proved to be a ready opponent for my snark and subversive interview style. Their performance was impressive enough to raise my jaded ass's interest and I actually stayed in the studio to watch.

Still with a good show in the can, I didn’t suspect I’d see them again. The invite to a gig after a taping is something I normally deflect with a lame excuse, more often than not. But that night, when out searching for my first meal of the day, I found myself pulling up in front of the Hotel Café.

Yeah, I know. The Hotel Café. While I had created a new singer songwriter show, Songwriter’s Stage, for Vlaze TV, it isn’t exactly a haunt that you’d ever find me in. No offense to the many talented songsmiths and troubadours that perform there…I just like my music with a healthy serving of edge and vitriol.

[caption id="attachment_161" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Mike Rosenberg of Passenger"][/caption]

Perhaps it’s the fact that Passenger’s comparisons to David Gray are a bit misleading. Yes, the melodies are soft and pretty and the harmonies give it that Starbucks song-of-the-week feel. But those who have likened Mike’s lyrical sense to Nick Drake are a bit more on the money. Drake and a lethal dose of biting British self deprecation. That's the combo I'm all about. An ironic fist in a velvet glove.

So, while I normally distance myself from the interview subject, that evening I found myself on an all night adventure. The guys took me to an odd house party with two grand pianos and a Fuse TV crew goading us into doing fake vodka shots for their program about 'partying'. It was somewhat amusing to watch Mike and guitarist Stephen’s faces as they took in all the bizarre pre-mating habits of fringe Angelinos on the make.

“What a perfect Hollywood party to have gone to.” one of them remarked.

“Oh, this is by no means what a Hollywood party is like.“ I corrected.

For one thing there was no hosted open bar from a booze company that no one has ever heard of. No unemployed actors serving expensive appetizers in honor of a major movie release. No DJ with his stage name in glittery sticker letters across his laptop, pumping out banging disco house music. There were no roving club kid photogs goading under age kinds to pull their tops down for a moment of cyber fame. There wasn’t even a celebrity sighting.

In fact, the only real Hollywood thing I was able to show them was the La Brea tar pits – I drove them over to Wilshire, prepping them on the monument to our pre-historic predecessors. As I pulled my convertible up to LACMA, their faces fell.

“That’s it?” Their manager, Dan, yelled. “Those don’t look like woolly mammoths. They’re like cartoon fiberglass elephants. Fooking ‘ell!”

I had failed as a tour guide.

Luckily last week I had the chance to redeem myself. The boys were hopping back across the pond to support the drop of their album Wicked Man's Rest. I bought me some spf 50, map quested Zuma Beach and rsvped to every annoying pool party and drink fest that came across my email spam box.

Dinner at Jones and a small gathering at the Woods with James Murphy in attendance, was a nice evening out for Passenger…but where was the gin soaked night? The evening of excess? The morning after where you aren’t quite sure where you are or which playmate you woke up next to? I’d have to try harder.

Passenger performed again at the Hotel Café. Even though only six weeks had passed, their performance was so much tighter and dynamic. I got chills listening to Mike warble songs such as Things You Never Done and Table For One. And the upbeat single about stalking (which was just banned by a radio station) Night Vision Binoculars, got the early dinner crowd clamoring to meet them afterwards.

Now, I suppose that too many years spent up all night and sleeping all day has jaded me. My smooth skin belies the time I’ve spent partying hard, and hitting the bottle harder. But a domestic partnership, a serious illness and a jaded 'been there, done that' glaze has seriously mellowed me out. My idea of wild fun would have been punk rock karaoke or maybe splurging on a really expensive bottle of wine. I must admit I’ve become more of a boho hipster, rather than a fun-thirsty scenester.

Passenger must have sensed this. Which is probably why they left nothing to chance this time and had their management company make a reservation at a club called Villa. Yeah, that Villa. As in the Villa I only know of from the check-out lane tabloids. Passenger told me the Weho address and I sniffed at it, snobbishly.

“I don’t go west of Fairfax Ave.” I chided.

“Why not?” They asked.

“You’ll see." I warned.

The MacLean-mobile pulled up to what once was the yuppie pub, Sloans. Now transformed into Villa, the place looked like a Kubrick wet dream. White silk cord ropes hung draped from the ceiling. A giant stuffed peacock competed for attention with a giant silver hot air balloon and a white Apollo space suit. The walls were frescoed with paintings of books as if the Eyes Wide Shut orgies had spilled into a billionaire’s library.

The place was gorgeous. That is, until the clientele arrived.

If reality television had spawned a nightclub, then this is where they would come for re-runs. Every fake tanned, fake-titted girl teetering on heels, in a too short t-shirt-cum-dress, came in hungry for attention. It made me do a double take in a way that even blatant beastiality would fail to. It was so...Jerry Springer episode: Tanorexic oompaloompa girls and the trucker hatted dudes who love them.

If this place is supposedly good for spotting stars, then where were they? Where the hell was gorgeous Villa denizen Jonathan Rhys Myers? Where was Johniston or Brangelina? Was the lack of wattage because it was karaoke night? And why was Lukas Haas checking email on his Sidekick WHILE he was on stage singing Bitter Sweet Symphony? That's enough to make The Verve break up again. Permanently.

“The décor is wasted on these people.” I remarked “None of them know what those strange oblong things called books are.”

“No.” Stephen agreed. “They probably call it ‘the wall with good children’s names'.”

“Yes, like Gatsby Silverstein. Or Nietzsche Jones.”

I shudder to think. Makes Apple Martin or Pilot Inspektor Lee sound kind a good Christian name. Doesn’t it?

We stepped outside for a cigarette to a hail of flashbulbs. That horrible swarm of parasitic paparazzi that you see on TMZ, were in the flesh outside of the club. Even with a little experience walking down a red carpet, I was a bit taken aback.

“Is this what it’s like when you go out in Hollywood?” Mike asked.

“NO." I stammered. “This is how the other half live. I’m an east side hipster. We stick to indie rock, red wine and artistic integrity.”

Actually what we were witnessing wasn’t exactly how the other half of LA lives. It’s really more like an eighth…the real Hollywood stars don’t hang out at Villa on a Monday night. They go to bed for an early call to the set the next morning. Or they attend a charity function where the swag bags include strands of black pearls and complimentary blackberrys. No, this type of Hollywood crowd is a very specific breed. The 'dancing with the d-list' kinda crowd. The reality TV has-been kinda crowd. And that includes you, Miss so-called World 2006.

Almost as if on cue, two of the perma-tanned d cup girls came out for a cigarette, and the parasites went crazy, clicking and sticking microphones into their faces. I couldn’t tell you who these trollops were, or what they possibly had to say that would hold anyone’s interest…but someone was paying the shutterbugs to capture their every move.

“Who are they?” Stephen asked.

“I dunno. Maybe they’re Hef’s playmates? Or maybe they’re on some reality show.” I offered.

“What show would that be, ‘Surgical Mistakes’? Stephen quipped. No doubt coming soon on Spike TV.

This was exactly the part of Hollywood that out-of-towners want to see, but are then very sorry when they do. It’s an embarrassment to someone like me to try and explain away why America is fascinated by this type of vapid vomit. It’s a peek behind the curtain at what glamour really ISN’T about.

Perhaps I should have stuck with ferrying them on a trip to the Sunset Strip. Even though the brains over there aren’t exactly firing on all cylinders either, at least it’s fun to watch the crowd that hasn’t made it past 1986. Watching someone like Vince Neil imbibe and make an ass of himself seems almost wholesome next to this slutbag contest. This was just…depressing.

It also served as a reminder to me underlining the fact that mediocrity and grotesque reign over talent and beauty. Why is Passenger, with their gorgeous melodies, playing an early slot at the Hotel Café? While Heidi Montag of The Hills is singing at Universal Ampitheater?!? Why, in a town of creative people, do we allow this to happen? Why can’t we urge everyone to stop reading OK magazine and stop tivoing Sunset Tan? Why couldn’t I convince any of my friends to go see the free Shakespeare in the park this summer? And who the hell greenlit Don’t Mess With The Zohan?

No seriously. I mean it. For fuck’s sake! I want to know who greenlit it, and I want his head on a platter!

Frankly I’m tired of having to go to the BBC for good comedy via Gervais and Izzard. I’m hoping that by the time I re-read my worn out copies of books by Evelyn Waugh, another Sedaris will be published. I’m really, really, really hoping Vicky Christina Barcelona will beat House Bunny at the box office but I’m not going to hold my breath.

Perhaps that’s what Silverlake is for. A place on the east side for those of us cultural snobs to retire to, after the glitter fades. We’ve drunk ourselves into an oblivion, partied like rockstars and watched our creative dreams slowly erode. So we barricade ourselves beyond the 101 beltway, light candles for Elliot Smith, eat at vegan bistros, and keep working on the great American novel or album.

When a group of lads like Passenger come to Los Angeles, I want to have something worthy of them to show them. Something smart. Something thoughtful. Something truly glamorous – the type of glamour that inspired De Mille, Hawks, Altman and Allen.

I know I’m not responsible for the entire city of Babylon. But I am a citizen here and so I must accept that this is how it is, or change it. After all, it’s been years and I still live here. I could live anywhere in the world. It must be because somehow that promise of glamour, of greatness, of creative utopia is still somewhat alive. Perhaps like the song, the feeling remains, even after the glitter fades.

INTRO: Shooting Diary for a Music Video I directed 7 years ago for the musician DAVID GRAY, first published in PROMO magazine.

Powering through the Palmdale desert in a trail of dust, the sky is blue black and we are driving at 65 miles per hour. At the wheel is Karen O‘Brien producer and wife to Jo Willems the Director of Photography who is sitting in the back with 1st assistant director Martin Serene. My head is spinning a little and I backtrack just a single a week and I get to..

Friday 23rd February

Arriving in LA and there is the customary detainment at immigration. I am beginning to get to know the immigration guards on first name terms. It’s away into the little room with me and my bags for a good search. A trip to LA wouldn’t be the same without an uncomfortable entry.

An hour and a half later I clear customs, the weather is warm, the smog is choking and the sunset is golden. I am picked up and taken straight to Swingers diner where I meet with Pete Chambers already in town shooting a commercial also at the table Karen and Jo Willems and my usual LA producer Youree Hendley. I see location photos and talk through another video that is "bidding" with Youree.

11pm and I stagger into my hotel room and lay on my bed for hours of sleep that I can’t work out. In fact it feels like someone took those hours and spliced them out of my consciousness – blink – my eyes close its 11pm – blink – my eyes open its 6.15am and I have showered and I am running to the car downstairs waiting to take me to the first of many location recces.

Saturday 24th February

Casting notes – Pig Nosed girl – from casting VHS tape. 

I am praying that the pig nosed girl can act  - she looks more like a boy than a girl sort of androgynous but of a pile of American actor kids she is the weirdest looking, most interesting. Her acting is hammy but there’s something there – the casting director asks her to pull a face and she obliges with a cross eyed gurn that gets her the job.

Monday 26th February

Casting notes 2 – Tiki Life symbol

8am somewhere close to Vine and Yukka - Hollywood

This is the second casting session, the first was done while I was flying from London, this one I get to attend. I love casting and always attend if I can. Good actors you notice straight away – in person and on tape, but sometimes the bad actors get through on tape – its the tiny things that give away the bad actors.

"Directing is making up for the mistakes you make in casting" I think it was William Goldman who said that.

I am seeing about 300 people for about 4 parts and some of these people must go to up to 10 casting sessions a day – most have a good nature and a sense of humour. Mark Jury our casting Director stands six and a half feet tall, short bleached blond hair roots showing baseball hat, ripped jeans, he has tattoos all over his arms and is bummed that everyone who sees his Tikki Life symbol tattoo asks if he’s an Einstrurzende Neubauten fan.

It looks very much like the EN symbol, EN must have adopted it, he pulls out a faux German accent that would make John Cleese proud, says "Zee  jjjeermon industrial band JJYA??!!?"

The casting begins soon after and as he is a little pissed off about the tattoo he takes it out on the first poor hopeful – he barks out with a good-natured smile:

"OK listen up we’re casting for the part of Billy, Billy gots bugs all over him, so you’re itchin and scratchin and you’re mad as hell too, OK? Now, ACTION!"

Most people stink, but there are a few that can pull it off – every now and again we get someone who tries an off the wall tactic.

A large man of about twenty-five reads deadpan and almost without moving

"Hi my name is Billy I am covered in bugs and this bug does Shakespeare"

He pulls out an imaginary bug with one hand, then begins about two minutes of monologue from Richard the IIIrd.

Next!! Neeeexxxt!!

Wednesday the 28th of February

I am standing in the grey blue darkness on Beverly Boulevard waiting to be picked up. Its 4.30 am or maybe by now its 5am I can’t quite remember, and it should be dead out here. No cars, no people, the streets should be empty. But no, its busier now than daytime, the only difference being that the humanity seems to be missing, there’s nothing but freaks out in the godless hours.

It’s a scary place; I feel like I’m tempting fate just being here and contemplate returning to my hotel room when Jo and Karen screech around the corner in their beat up red Fiat.

We drive to Palmdale – two hours on the road and I wish I could sleep  - the freeways are packed. By 5.45 we are hitting the desert and the overhead blanket of inky blue black is cracking open at one end. By 6.30 we are cutting across flat fields and slamming into dust storms that look like they bridge gaps between other worlds.

The dust storms are a worry, wind isn’t something we have much defence against shooting in the desert, but as we get closer to our location the storms die off. The grey blue is now almost washed out into the soft brown hues of sand and rock littered dirt.

The roads out here are straight and every cross road is marked with dead flowers in wreaths and the weathered crosses of the dead.

Road accidents here seem to be common and often fatal. There’s no emergency response; no hospitals out here just an army of stray dogs that must wage war with the coyotes at night. Then there’s those recently checked out from methadone clinics, and in contrast, those with their own crystal meth labs, all of it side by side every few miles interspersed with thousand year old Joshua trees.

We arrive at the location just in time to see all hell break loose. Despite trying to keep this shoot low key we have a small village of motor homes and they are all parked in the wrong place…

9.30AM

David’s Gray is laying on the desert floor getting used to the camera and his first performance take is stiff and so I get down on my back in the dirt and I try to show him the looseness of movement we need. I explain that he is supposed to be relaxed, half dead with defocused eyes. David jokes that he should be able to do the half dead bit at this time in the morning. The sun is shining directly in his eyes and so we go for eyes closed throughout the second take. He picks it up quickly and we move on.

David is good at being himself and this is a relief. On a punishing schedule like this if an artist retreats into his character for safety, its better if that character is him and not some projected image. So far David is being himself wonderfully.

We have been shooting for an hour and a half, mainly shots of David Gray laying in the dirt singing when he gets a telephone call and disappears into his trailer. Outside we set up a wide lock off shot of a lush patch of fake vegetation we have dressed in the desert. We need to shoot various plates for the final video and safely locking down the camera alone is going to take ten minutes.

Its another hour and a half before the door of David’s trailer is unlocked and news comes straight to us. David’s father has just undergone cancer surgery, we knew this from David’s management – but now it seems that the cancer is back and as vicious as ever and David’s has just been informed that his father has not long to live.

Outside in the desert the wind is getting heavy blowing our equipment around. We stand fairly immobile waiting a little longer for news from management. Will David leave straight away, will he stay for today’s shooting? We are behind now, an hour and a half but I am optimistic we can pick up the pace, we may lose one set-up. When life steps in like this the film making takes a back seat.

Half an hour or so later we have made the decision to continue shooting with the actors we have with us, David is still in the trailer while we battle with the wind blowing our rain machine everywhere but where we want it.

After we wrap for lunch with our main actor I go to talk to David in his trailer – David is visibly, shell-shocked, his expression is dominated by a look of disbelief. I make it as clear as I know how that we can work around whatever he chooses to do next. Even if that is leave on the next plane. My suggestion at this point is to cut a scene and then reduce his involvement in the video down to a minimum. Cut some of his performance scenes and have him for the next hour or so then just a couple of hours the next day. If he wants to go I explain that we will still have a video. He calmly states that he wants to stay, then he says something I will later read in a newspaper interview. He says being half way round the world covered in yellow make up – being rained on, in the desert. What circumstances in which to learn of your father’s imminent death. Then he says he feels like life is playing a cruel joke on him. I leave him in his trailer and get back to shooting the actors with a cold chill down my spine. We get through everything and despite the setback lose only one set-up. When we come to shoot David’s performance part he is honest and full of tangible pain, and there is a moment when he sings the lyric "ain’t life so sweet" then pauses and just shakes with emotion.

In the end David has been taken to his hotel, I am crammed in the front seat of a back firing pick up truck, holding a tiny monitor. In the back no less than five people are crammed into a four foot square area along with an Arri 435 on baby legs a hand held two K light, a huge heated water tank and tiny hand held rain machine and an actor.

I kind of wish David could see us hanging onto to this pick-up, half of us in danger of falling off like Keystone Cops as we rush against the daylight to get the final shot. I imagine he would laugh and that this would be some relief as I cut the take and the actor who for the first time all day is having problems performing yelps because the water in the rain machine is scalding hot. I imagine he would laugh as someone runs frantically to get cold water and at how ridiculous we all look with our serious faces clinging to this tiny truck again chasing the last of the light as it dies in the sky.

Written Feb-March 2001 © David Slade

Basil Poledouris (Conan the Barbarian) - This is the soundtrack to the infamous Arnold movie.  Majestic brass orchestrations,  very Wagner-esque.  I love it. 

Coldplay (Viva La Vida) - Great album.  It's a slow-grow, takes some listening to get used to, but once it gets its hooks in ya, it's great.   I listen to it all the time.

David Gray (Greatest Hits) - Great compilation from one of our best songwriters.  Amazing tunes, wonderfully produced.  The two new songs, "You're the World To Me" and "Destroyer" are great, and a new version of "Babylon" is done nicely as well.

Eddie Vedder (Into the Wild) - My two favorite songs on this album, "Hard Sun" and "Society," are the two that he didn't write.  Go figure.  But the whole album has a very unique tone to it.  Definitely worth listening to.

The Everybodyfields (Nothing is Okay) - Amazing album.  I love these folks.

Pearl Jam (Avocado Self-Title) - Their newest work is their best since "Yield."  I love this album. 

Radiohead (Kid A) - My favorite Radiohead album, and their best work to date.

United fielded a full strength line up with Carlos Tevez leading the attack alongside the promising Frazier Campbell who scored the winner earlier in the week in Ole Gunnar Solskjaer's testimonial against Espanyol.

Rio Ferdinand and Wes Brown were given the task of holding off the Peterborough attack, while Darren Fletcher and John O'Shea were placed in the centre of midfield.

Sir Alex also handed a debut start to Rafael Silva, with his twin brother Fabio also had 45 minutes of the game under his belt.

Manchester United took the lead in spectacular fashion after Russel Martin chested the ball into his own net from David Gray's cross.

Peterborough continued to caused problems, but United but the game beyond doubt in the 68th minute when Darren Gibson struck a long range shot into the top corner, which brought a smile to the face of the Manchester United bench.

Brazilian youngster Rodrigo Possebon came on and did his hopes of challenging for the first team no harm with a solid, calm assured display.

Ferguson was also happy to point out the performances of Brazilian twins Rafael and Fabio Da Silva.

"I was really pleased with their contributions, and it will be interesting to see how they get on this season."

"The squad we had tonight will play Juventus on Wednesday- with Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Gary Neville to come in."

On the loss to his father's side, Peterborough boss Darren Ferguson said: "It was a good experience for my players. They had eight internationals out there in the first half.

"The second half petered out a bit, and we gave the ball away too easily.

"When you do that with players of the quality United have it takes you a long time to get back."

Today, on Sir Alex Ferguson also revealed that the Cristiano Ronaldo saga is over in a press conference on Sky Sports News, but he has yet to arrive in England.

When asked by a reporter about it, Ferguson remained defiant responding: "The matter is closed now. He is a Manchester United player - it's finished. He'll be playing here next season believe me. It's finished."

I am extremely pleased to hear not only this, but the fact that Real Madrid have said that they have concluded their transfer business this summer with the signing of Hamburg and Netherlands winger Rafael van der Vaart- once believed to be a target of the Old Trafford giants.

"Van der Vaart is the first and possibly the only signing of the summer for Real Madrid," Calderon said.

Real Madrid should have invested in more defenders rather than there usual policy of signing attacking Galacticos, if they want to challenge for European and domestic honours. However, despite the fact that Ronaldo cannot leave until at least the January window, this will not stop tabloid newspapers from fabricating stories, dishing for exclusives and outside influences (Preferably his agent) having a little word in his Ronaldo's ear.

Disapppointing news coming from Sir Alex is that Wayne Rooney is set to miss the start of the new campaign after picking up a serious virus in the 2-1 win over Portsmouth in Nigeria. What I do not understand is why the boys were flown out to Abuja for one game. I suspect that it must have been a lucrative deal for the club, otherwise Sir Alex would not have sanctioned such a long trip across the continent.

"I doubt Wayne will be fit for the start of the season," said United boss Sir Alex Ferguson.

"It's a virus he picked up in Nigeria and it's not a nice one. He's not been back in training yet."

This will only cause further anxiety among United fans for Ferguson to speed up his transfer activity and in particularly tie up the deal of Tottenham forward Dimitar Berbatov, although a £20m bid has already been turned down for the Bulgarian.

Cristiano Ronaldo will miss the first two months of the season following ankle surger, while Portuguese midfielder Nani is suspended and Anderson is on Olympic duty with Brazil.

I don't know whether we will have a team ready," said Ferguson. "Nani is suspended, Anderson is in the Olympic Games.

"(Michael) Carrick's come in this morning and he may play a part of the game on Sunday."

Ferguson has only Carlos Tevez, untested youngster Fraizer Campbell and Louis Saha to choose from up front- whose time at Old Trafford is said to be at an end, with ex team mate Roy Keane preparing to line up a £10m bid.

There has also been talk that Ferguson is interested in the likes of Lyon's Kerim Benzema but despite his wonderful goal against United in the Champions League clash and some stunning performances he is very unproven and one does not know how long Ajax Dutch international forward Klaas-Jan Huntelaar will adjust to life in the Premiership, irrespective of his very prolific strike rate at club and international level.

He was Eredivisie's top scorer in the 2005–06 season with 33 goals in 31 games and became the top scorer in the 2007–08 season with 33 goals in 34 appearances.

For Holland he has netted 8 goals in 13 senior appearences and is the all-time highest goal-scorer for the Netherlands U21 squad with 18 goals in 22 matches along with other accolades such as Dutch Football Talent of the Year and 2006 UEFA European Under-21 Football Championship, where he became the tournament's leading goal-scorer; and was named in the UEFA Team of the Tournament.

But Berbatov would be a instant hit. He has a proven ability in the Premiership and hit 23 goals and 11 assists only bettered by Frank Lampard and Cristiano Ronaldo. As a tall target man he would add something different to United's strikeforce, is masterful with the ball at his feet and can score a goal out of nothing.

His four goals against a 6-4 demolition against Reading was part of a one made show which revolved against this man. He would certainly excite the fans even more, but I do wish Tottenham would lower there asking price.

A brilliant player he may be, but at 27 Tottenham must be realistic to know that no club will shell out in excess of 25- £30m for his services. But Tottenham may find that they do not need to cash in on another prized asset after selling Robbie Keane to Liverpool for £17m- with add ons taking the deal up to a whopping £20m.

Meanwhile Ferguson has said that said that the club are in no rush to appoint a successor to assistant manager Carlos Queiroz, who left to fill the vacant managerial position at Portugal left by Chelsea boss Luis Felipe Scolari.

United will have a much sterner test when they face Italian giants Juventus on Wednesday at Old Trafford, in there last pre season game before Sunday's Community Shield clash at Wembley against FA Cup winners Portsmouth.

'39 Russell Martin
'68 Darron Gibson

Sir Alex Ferguson's men go into Wednesday's friendly against Juventus still unbeaten in pre-season, despite a decent test against a Peterborough side managed by his son Darren.

Darron Gibson's glorious second-half strike, added to a first-half owngoal by Peterborough right-back Russell Martin, saw United win their first away match on English soil since that momentous May day in Wigan.

Irish midfielder Gibson had been on the field for less than a minute as United's eighth and final substitute when he brought down Lee Martin's flicked pass with his right foot and crashed home an unstoppable half-volley with his left boot from 30 yards out.

That wonderful moment in the 68th minute brought a big grin to the face of Sir Alex but there was plenty for the Reds boss to smile about throughout the evening, not least the first appearances of his new full-backs, Brazilian twins Rafael and Fabio Da Silva.

Rafael played the full 90 minutes at right-back and was joined in the team for the second half by brother Fabio at left-back. United finished the match with three Brazilians on the London Road pitch, following Rodrigo Possebon's entrance just before the hour.

The Reds made numerous changes at half-time, having taken the lead a few minutes earlier when Russell Martin, otherwise impressive on his home debut for Peterborough, chested David Gray's right-wing cross past his own keeper Joe Lewis. Nani and the lively Carlos Tevez were both involved in the build-up with the latter eventually feeding Gray.

With Gray backed up and sometimes overlapped by Rafael Da Silva, Peterborough had to deal with a number of raids down their left side. Not that it was much quieter for Posh on the other flank with Nani and Reds left-back Patrice Evra stretching their legs on a number of occasions, although both will be seeking greater accuracy with their shots against Juventus before the serious action starts.

United's first-half line-up was completed by Tomasz Kuszczak in goal, Wes Brown and Rio Ferdinand in the heart of defence, Darren Fletcher and John O'Shea in central midfield and Frazier Campbell, Saturday's scorer against Espanyol, up front alongside Tevez. 

After almost the entire side was changed by Sir Alex, you might have expected a less cohesive performance from United in the second half. But one of the highlights of the latter stages confounded that - a move of multiple passes ending with Tom Cleverley's shot being saved by Peterborough's substitute goalkeeper Mark Tyler.

As for United's keepers, Kuszczak had to work reasonably hard to keep his latest clean sheet before he was replaced for the last 23 minutes by Ron Robert Zieler. The Pole in goal made a couple of fine saves, including one to deny a point blank header from one of Peterborough's numerous second-half subs, Craig Mackail-Smith.
 
United: Kuszczak; R Da Silva, Brown, Ferdinand, Evra; Gray, Fletcher, O'Shea, Nani; Tevez, Campbell. Subs (all were used): Zieler, J Evans, Cleverley, F Da Silva, Cathcart, Martin, Possebon, Gibson.

	-
MUFC Reserves	3-2	Liverpool Reserves

Cleverley 28	-	Eccleston 40
Gray 51	-	Brouwer 72
Drinkwater 87	-	-

 

A late, late goal from Danny Drinkwater decisively swung a topsy-turvy match in United's favour and, in doing so, secured the Lancashire Senior Cup for the Reds and a first trophy in management for Ole Gunnar Solskjaer.

With David Gray captaining the side, the team lined up with Zieler in goal, his first game back after his success in the European U-19 Championships, and a back line of Simpson, Cathcart, Chester and Eckersley. In midfield, United played a 4-5-1 formation with Gray wide on the right and Cleverley on the left with Gibson, Possebon, Hewson in the middle, leaving Campbell up front. However, when we attacked it was a more fluid 4-3-3.

United started the brighter with some really good team play. Gibson was booked early on for a rash challenge but it was Gray and Cleverley who looked the most likely to open up the Liverpool defence. In fact Gray set up our first chance with a great cross that Campbell should have scored with from close range. Then on 28 minutes, Tom Cleverley gave United the lead shooting from just in the area after Liverpool failed to clear.

Liverpool hardly threatened but got an undeserved equaliser when one of their players scored with a terrific strike from outside the box giving Zieler no chance.

Half-time: 1-1

United upped the tempo in the second half and started playing some real quality football. After Gibson intercepted a stray Liverpool pass, he played an exquisite slide rule pass through the defence which Campbell ran onto, before crossing to the far post and Gray slid in to give United a deserved 2-1 lead. The Reds started creating numerous opportunities and it could have been 3-1 when Campbell hit the bar after good work from Simpson and Gray. On 56 minutes Possebon was replaced by Drinkwater - perhaps he was being saved for an appearance on Saturday? - but almost immediately Liverpool equalised with a header at the near post with only their second shot on goal.

United continued to press and with three minutes to go, Drinkwater won the match for United after some good play across the pitch with numerous players involved. It was a totally deserved winner as United had dominated the game from start to finish. He lifted the trophy as captain, with both Ole Solskjaer and Alex Ferguson looking on.

Corry Evans replaced Hewson on 90 minutes. The crowd of 660 then took great delight in watching United lift the trophy for the first time since 1969!

The MOM was given to Darron Gibson, and although he played well, Richard Eckersley was in fine form, Tom Cleverley impressing all over the pitch and Fraizier Campbell's running off the ball a delight to watch. But the real star was David Gray who set up two goals, scored one and was outstanding from start to finish.

United:
1. Ron-Robert Zieler
2. David Gray (c)
3. Richard Eckersley
4. Craig Cathcart
5. James Chester
6. Danny Simpson
7. Rodrigo Possebon (14. Danny Drinkwater '56)
8. Darron Gibson
9. Fraizer Campbell
10. Tom Cleverley
11. Sam Hewson (16. Corry Evans '90)
 
Unused Subs:
12. Jimmy Derbyshire
13. Ben Amos
15. Magnus Eikrem
 
Huge thanks to Mr MUJAC from RedCafe for the report. The official site has a report of its own up here.

 

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This year's love... I hope I find it. Iubirea minutului si a secundei, si aerul care ma respira, si zambetul care ma traieste...

Sweep me off my feet...

Ikväll är en kväll då jag plockar fram mannen i mitt liv.
Ja vet D., jag har inte lyssnat på dig på tusen år minst.
Men ikväll gör jag det.

...Cos its in so deep"

Secondly, someone searched JIF peanut butter sex to find this blog. I applaud them for their creativity.

I'm off to the Outer Banks for the weekend, but I'll leave you with this...

---------

Every summer I have a CD that I listen to relentlessly. I play them so much that come August, I can't stand to listen to it one more time. But I like that, because then whenever I do get around to listening to it again, I can only think of is that summer. In 2005, it was Coldplay's X&Y, 2006 was Nelly Furtado's Loose, 2007 was David Gray's New Day at Midnight and this summer was a mixed CD of John Mayer songs. Now despite the fact that I have a set CD for each summer, there are two songs that will forever be my summer songs: Bob Seger's Night Moves and Fleetwood Mac's Gypsy.

Whenever I hear a Bob Seger song all I can think about is how I want to have sex in a car, but specifically Night Moves, because it's a classic and all about teenage nookie. VH1 played that music video a lot when I was a kid and my mom always used it as an example of what I wasn't allowed to watch, but of course I did. And as soon as I was able to figure out what Night Moves was all about, I fell in love with it. There is something so innocently sexy about it. I never got to have sex in a car in highschool, or college for that matter, so this song always makes me want to live out my frustrated teenage dreams. Can't you just see yourself driving down some country highway, pulling over and turning this song up really loud and going at it? I know I can. Who wants to make this happen?

Fleetwood Mac's Gypsy is very much a favorite of mine. I've always had a thing for Fleetwood Mac, how can you deny the awesome voice of Stevie Nicks? Gypsy will forever remind me of driving home at 4 am down empty streets in Cary. The street lights running down the street to my house slightly resemble a landing strip at an airport, so they felt like they were guiding me home as I blasted Gypsy with the windows down. Summer always treated me well there.

I'll listen to these songs year round, but come summer, they stick out; they're quintessential.

But for right now, well, I'm in a Bill Withers mood, so he and I are off to build those sandcastles in the sky. Have a fantastic weekend. <3 Shro

Wann immer mich ein schlechtes Gewissen plagt, weil ich etwa verbotenerweise eine CD für einen Freund kopiere, denke ich schnell an David Gray und ich kann beruhigt in meinem Tun fortfahren.

Nein, im Ernst, ich kopiere natürlich keine CD’s, das ist doch nicht nur illegal, sondern schädigt die Musikindustrie bzw. uns alle, denn dann ist kein Geld mehr da, um Talente zu entdecken und zu fördern. Und das wollen wir doch alle. Wer möchte denn fast ausschließlich geklonte Superstars, zum Verwechseln ähnliche Popschwuchteln, Alben zu 19,90 € mit gerade mal ein oder zwei eingängigen Songs und spätestens ab dem zweiten Album immer nur Wiederholungen und mehr Geld für Werbung und gleichgeschaltete Radioprogramme, als für neue Künstler ausgeben?

"Shine" vom ersten Album "A Century Ends"

Sehen Sie, bzw- hören Sie, das will doch keiner. Und was das mit David Gray zu tun hat, fragen Sie? Nun, wenn Sie das fragen, dann sollten Sie einmal reinhören. Und wenn Ihnen das gefällt, was Sie da hören, wenn Sie gar teilen, dass David Gray

"mit einer charakteristischen, an Dylan erinnernden, ruhigen und etwas rauen Stimme Geschichten über die Liebe und das Leben in einer schlichten poetischen Schönheit erzählt, wie das lange niemandem mehr gelungen ist"

"alles auf das Wesentliche konzentriert, und es ihm, wie nur den ganz Großen der Branche gelingt, trotz - bzw. wegen minimalistischer Arrangements ein Höchstmaß an emotionaler Dichte zu erreichen"

Der Titelsong vom zweiten Album "Flesh"

Wenn Sie schließlich sogar zu folgender Ansicht gelangen sollten:

"Mit David Gray gibt es noch Hoffnung, das spürt man deutlich und bezieht den Gedanken sowohl auf sich selbst, als auch auf ihn und auf die Betrachtung des Musikmarkts im allgemeinen. Eine große Entdeckung!"

Alle 3 Zitate: © Michael Frost / 10.03.2001

... dann sollten Sie noch schnell wissen, dass das Album „White Ladder“, aus dem unser Titelsong hier stammt, Grays viertes Album war, mit geringsten Mitteln im eigenen Wohnzimmer hergestellt, nachdem er von einem so genannten Major-Label gefeuert worden war. Wer die ersten drei Alben von David Gray kennt, weiß spätestens mit dieser Episode, dass die Musikindustrie von Vielem Ahnung haben mag, von Musik haben sie keine. Tja, geschah diesem Label ganz recht, dass Gray dann vom unerkannten Genie zu einem der erfolgreichsten britischen Songwriter wurde.

Der Titelsong des vierten Album "White Ladder" (nur Audio)

Die Story ist aber keineswegs zu Ende. Durch den großen Erfolg von „White Ladder“ befindet Gray sich im Stadium relativer Unabhängigkeit und kann sein nächstes Album frei von Zwängen, dafür mit teurem Equipment produzieren. Er tut das auf eine lässige Art und zusammen mit seinen beiden bewährten, multi-instrumentalen Begleitern Clune und Polson entsteht ein geschliffenes, brillantes Album, ein würdiger Nachfolger. Viele Jünger aus seiner mittlerweile enorm gewachsenen Gemeinde sehen zwar bereits in diesem Album einen kommerziellen Sündenfall, ich kann das jedoch nicht finden. Sicher fehlt es den Stücken bereits ein wenig an den Ecken und Kanten, aber doch wohl eher deswegen, weil aus dem Angry Young Man ein professioneller Vollblutmusiker geworden ist, der aber eben (noch) nicht seine Authentizität verloren hat.

"Real Love" vom fünften Album "A New Day At Midnight"

Jetzt ist Gray auch international ein Star, wenn auch noch immer in Deutschland eher einem eingeweihten Kreis bekannt. Allerdings beginnt nun auch der kommerzielle Druck und die weiter oben beschriebenen Einflüsse zu wirken. Jedenfalls geht Gray zum ersten Mal eine Liaison mit einem Produzenten ein und dieser Marius De Vries sorgt denn auch dafür, dass nun geklotzt statt gekleckert wird:

"Vorbei sind die Zeiten der spartanischen Arrangements, als Gray vorwiegend die Gitarre zupfte. Heute sitzt der Mann mit der Riesenstimme meist am Konzertflügel, drumherum wallt ein schmuckes Gewand aus Streichern, Bläsern und allerlei Geklingel. Mal schillert es grell, mal ist es nur lind getupft; den famosen Songs aber lässt es immer genügend Luft zum Atmen."

© kulturnews.de

"The One I Love" vom aktuellen Album "Life In Slow Motion"

Ich finde nicht. Das Album hat man sich gerade wegen des Bombastes bald überhört. Alles, was vorher eine Gänsehaut auslösen konnte, ist jetzt völlig überladen damit. So vollends kommerzialisiert, ist es überhaupt kein Wunder, dass das Album sich hervorragend verkauft – nur nicht in der ursprünglichen Gemeinde.  ;)   Nachdem aber „die Industrie“ wieder die gierigen Griffel im Spiel hat, ist es eben doch nur ein Abziehbild David Grays geworden, fast schon ins Groteske verzerrt. Nun, der Mann ist erst 40 und hat sich mehr als einmal verändert. Mal sehen, ob es ihm erneut gelingt.

Der Regisseur Billy Wilder hat einmal gesagt, wahre Schönheit bedürfe der Markanz und sei nur einen Hauch vom Grotesken entfernt. Am Beispiel Marlene Dietrichs beschrieb er deren (chirurgisch veränderte) Wangenpartie als dieses irritierende Element. Wären die Wangenknochen nur noch eine Winzigkeit weiter verschoben, hätte die Frau eine Fratze gehabt. So aber strahlte sie diese elegante, kühne Unnahbarkeit aus, diese frostige Schönheit, dieses irisierende Moment. Mag also sein, dass Grays jüngstes Album einfach nur schön ist, für mich ist es dann aber bereits zu schön, zu süß, zu klebrig.

Derart zugekleistert öffne ich meine Ohren dann gerne mit Grays sicher am wenigsten irgend einem Mainstream angepassten Werk. Zweifellos ein Übergang vom unglücklich verliebten, poetischen Folksänger zum souveränen Singer-Songwriter, aber dennoch mit eigener Berechtigung dank seiner ursprünglichen Kraft. Hier spürt man hin und wieder Grays Wurzeln in einer Punk-Band und hier spürt man auch den Zorn des ewig unverstandenen Genies. Sein Platten-Label nahm - wie oben gesagt - dieses Album zum Anlass, ihn zu feuern und es klingt, als habe David Gray das bereits bei den Aufnahmen geahnt. Leider habe ich den Titelsong nicht auf YouTube gefunden, aber auch das hier ausgewählte, abschliessende Stück des Albums zeigt die ursprüngliche, fast rohe, aber dennoch so zärtliche Kraft dieses singenden Poeten. Hiermit endete diese Episode. Danach erstand der Künstler in neuem Gewand.

"Gutter Full Of Rain" vom dritten Album "Sell Sell Sell"

]]> http://onecolouredworld.wordpress.com/?p=398 Thu, 10 Jul 2008 02:51:45 +0000 Anjolie http://onecolouredworld.wordpress.com/?p=398

"Something religious?" the man asked.

"Noooo, silly....a map to the stars!" said the little boy in the orange raincoat.

A map to the stars...

"So whose to worry
If our hearts get torn
When that hurt gets thrown
Don't you know this life goes on
And won't you kiss me
On that midnight street
Sweep me off my feet
Singing ain't this life so sweet

This years love had better last
Heaven knows it's high time." 

~David Gray
"This Year's Love"

This one came from listening to a song by David Gray, called "Shine". There were two images in my head and this was one of them. It's just based on a feeling about my home where I grew up. I was away at school when I did this. I was sort of reminising about the summer and how I would take my two ferrets out at night since it was cooler. I remembered how the tulips in my mom's garden just always looked like they were glowing because of the moonlight. I think there is something more to this but, I'm not sure how to explain.

The singer-songwriter's hit single Babylon is said to be the preferred choice of the US military in Iraq who play the track incessantly to detainees during interrogation sessions.

More here

Amongst all the musician's unsurprising whines, of course, he has a point: play anything to death and it becomes an annoyance, whether it's trash or Tchaikovsky.  And yes, whatever the comedy value of their choice of song, they're still torturers, and torturers are bad people with rotten capitalist hearts and teeth yellow as pissed-in snow.

Still - what could be funner?

If only someone had the wit to strip the detainees naked and ride them like pack animals... hillarity would ensue, surely, to a predictable Benny Hill soundtrack.  Enough, even, that these jolly sadists might memorialise a few Kodak moments for the family album?  Now there's a thought.

:O

That is all.

Check it out.

And if you haven't heard of his music... shame on you.

This imprompto soundtrack is spot on. The music, the lyrics, the cadence of the artists voice, the rhythm of the guitars, the snap of the snare, all of it puts you in the moment and you're lost; to the music.

And that's just the first track.

On his sophomore album, David Ford takes his diary, empties it out, and tries to convey to the listener the turmoil of his new-found self-awareness and wanting for things that may have been, up until now, unattainable. He swimmingly croons through a sea of relationship-laden tracks as if David Gray was sitting on a lifeguard tower ready to jump in and save him with some of his own British electro-pop styled mouth-to-mouth. Mr. Gray better put on some more SPF30, because he's gonna be there a while.

We here at eargoggles have just secured a copy of his latest album Songs For the Road out on Original Signal Recordings earlier this April, digitally in February. Great to listen to in the car; probably the reason for the title. Upon first listen it is quite impressive; hit well with the current weather change in Southern California (a little relief from the low-100s with a balmy mid-70s day). It has, as mentioned before--and we hate to equate artists to other artists, a David Gray feel, with maybe some of Bright Eyes frontman Conor Oberst in here--Mason Jennings, perhaps--wait! no!! Jason Anderson. You know, good sweater music--good for a brisk walk or an Autumn read on the porch sippin' on some coffee or tea--with some Bailey's or whiskey.

The album was released last fall in the UK where it received rave reviews from The Sunday Times (Best of 2007: "...a devastating reminder that an artist witha keening voice, an ear for melody and a willingness, lyrically, to wrestle withdemons can still take the breathaway."), The Guardian ("…[Ford] has a real and thrilling edge."), and The Sun ("This is a sublime 37 minutes of music. It’s melodic songwriting on par with Damien Rice, folk singing reminiscent of The Pogues and lyric writing as good as Bright Eyes."). Wow! So we were spot on with the Bright Eyes compairison.

He's got all the tools for a succesful commercial jump to America. He's got the voice, the gimicky sound, and a signature look; he wears a fedora/bowler-like hat (see above and in the videos).

That was at first listen.

Now, when you watch him it's a totalydifferent story. Looping live noises, strums of a guitar, drum beats, as well as harmonizing with multi-tracked recordings looped of himself on top of live vocals performed live is where it gets very interesting. While we here at eargoggles are huge fans of Andrew Bird, who also uses live instumentation and live recorded loops behind his very distinct voice, David Ford seems to have thrown at least 3/4 of the staff here for a loop. Watch some video below:

"Go to Hell!"

and here with "State of the Union"

Now see, that's pretty amazing! a nice change of pace, a little Nevertheless, David Ford will be playing in Los Angeles at the Hotel Cafe on July 10th. Definitely something to check-out if your in the area. We'll be there, well some of us, looking for a good time and some cool looking hats.

Live show review to come!

The second season of The Sundance Channel's music-performance series Live From Abbey Road premiered this past Thursday night. The series airs on Thursday evenings at 10 p.m. Eastern and Pacific.

The program is recorded at the legendary Abbey Road Studios in London, and features some of today's top musical talent. Among the artists appearing this season will be Dashboard Confessional, David Gray, Herbie Hancock, James Blunt, Kate Nash, Mary J. Blige, Panic at the Disco, Rascal Flatts, and Suzanne Vega.

For further information, see http://www.sundancechannel.com/livefromabbeyroad/.

Click below for the Live From Abbey Road promo video: