This is a whole lot of money.

Peeps, the following is an exhaustive list of the bands I have seen live this year. It includes individual concerts, festival shows and support slots. Weep with me at the amount of cash I have given to these fuckers. And then relax in the realisation that yup, just about every bleeding one was more than worth it.

Against Me!
Alkaline Trio x4
Anti-Flag
Band of Horses
Be Your Own Pet
Ben Folds x2
Biffy Clyro x2
Bloc Party
Blood Red Shoes x4
Cherry Poppin' Daddies
Chris TT x4
Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band x2
The Cribs x2
Dartz!
Death Cab for Cutie
Does It Offend You, Yeah?
Dropkick Murphys x2
Editors x2
Eels
Emily Barker x4
Emmy the Great
Esser
Electric Eel Shock
Feeder
Finch
Flogging Molly x3
Foals x2
Frank Turner x6
The Futureheads
The Gaslight Anthem x2
Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly
The Get Go
Glasvegas x2
Gogol Bordello
Goldfinger
H20
Hayley Hutchinson
HiFi Handgrenades
The JB Conspiracy
Ida Maria
In Case of Fire
Interpol x3
Jimmy Eat World x3
Joe Lean and the Jing Jang Jong
July Rising x3
Kid Carpet
Kill Casino
The King Blues x2
The Last Shadow Puppets
Lightspeed Champion x2
Los Campesinos! x3
The Lurkers
Mad Caddies
Manic Street Preachers
Mike TV (a.k.a. Pickled Dick)
MxPx
The National
1984
Operahouse
Panic at the Disco
Paramore
Pendulum
Pepper
Plain White T's
The Presidents of the United States of America
Punchline
Queens of the Stone Age
R.E.M.
Rage Against the Machine
Random Hand x2
Rancid
Rolo Tomassi
Skindred
The Smashing Pumpkins
Sons and Daughters
Sparkadia x2
The Steal
Stereophonics
Street Dogs
The Subways x3
Sum 41
TDA
These New Puritans
30 Seconds To Mars
The Ting Tings
Travis
Vampire Weekend x2
We Are Scientists x3
White Lies
The Wombats
The Xcerts

Phew!

Screenaged Noise: Chris TT: 'We Are The King of England'

Taken from the unquestionably brilliant Capital, which really deserves a place in everyone's 'top albums of 2008' lists, 'We Are The King of England' is Chris TT at his most accusatory best. Oh, and see if you can spot another personal favourite in the video...

Ah, vanity.

Well blog, it's been a while. I do apologise. Life got in the way. Again. Just in case you want to know, I did go to the Alice in Wonderland house party, I wasn't in costume, things did go well as the person I wanted to be there was, but sadly, things have since not worked out... but ho hum, back to the drawing board, plenty other fish in the sea and all that.

Anyway, to make up for my appalling lack of updates, I'm gonna go post crazy over Christmas, I promise. And we start here with Mitch Hewer, a.k.a. Maxxie from the marvellous Skins. The show returns in the new year with a completely revamped cast, which is nice, but for now, let's savour this incredibly hot young man's naked body, shall we? Even if he is a bit of an arse, as indicated by the quote attached to the picture. But still, HOT YOUNG FLESH PHWOOOOOOOARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Conundrum.

To attend the Alice in Wonderland themed house party on Saturday or not? I'm experiencing major costume fail, especially given the way work seems to sap up my schedule. I have toyed with the idea of attending for a couple of hours, out of costume, and then going to the Bunker... and I'd resolved to do that until I found out an important piece of information that might make me err on the side of staying at the party all night.

Teasingly, I am going to leave that nugget to your imaginations. But you can probably guess what it is. So everyone... what do you think?

1. Desperately try to clobber something together in terms of a costume and attend (despite not being at the Bunker a couple of weeks ago too? Shocking, I know!)
2. Attend out of costume and go to the Bunker?
3. Stay away altogether and just Bunker it?

Thoughts please.

Sometimes, the good guys win.

What a relief.

Some excellent news to wake up to. All that crossing clearly made a difference...

I'm a little bit stunned really. Delighted, but stunned. It happened. They did it.

Prepare for four years of scowling faces on FOX News.

Prayers before bedtime.

Well, it's a bit of a historic day.

Come tomorrow morning, when I open my eyes and curse that wretched alarm clock of mine for waking me out of my peaceful slumber again, America will have elected a new President.

Let's just hope it's the right one. I'm crossing my everything as I climb under the covers.

Don't let me down guys.

In my mailbox, this afternoon.

Hello everyone

We thought you would like to know that we have been making music. We have been in the studio with Mr Steve Albini recording live – to tape – analogue – no digital hiss – no Pro Tools – no safety nets. Quite scary, daunting but invigorating.

All the songs we are recording are lyrics left to us by Richey. Finally it feels like the right time to use them (especially after the last 18 months being so amazing with Send Away The Tigers). Musically, in many ways it feels like a follow up to the Holy Bible but there is also an acoustic side – tender, romantic, nihilism, “Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky” esque. It’s a record that celebrates the genius of his words, full of love, anger, intelligence and respect. We have to make this great. Wish us luck.

We hope to release the record next April or May. The working titles are “Journal for Plague Lovers” or “I Know I Believe In Nothing But It Is My Nothing”.

Love
Nicky, James and Sean.

There is a distinct temptation to be unkindly pessimistic about this endeavour. I caught myself thinking, 'Oh God guys, what have you let yourselves in for'? Can they do Richey's words justice? Are Richey's words even that good (much was made of the 'rambling' nature of some of his work post-The Holy Bible and pre-his disappearance)? And what about the notion of that second album title suggestion? (Awesome lyric, bad name for an LP). But you know what, I'm not going to be the spoilsport here. I'm going to take this for what it is, or rather, what it could be: something potentially fantastic from a band (probably) in its final days. They seem committed to doing a damn fine job and I honestly don't believe that (a) they'd give it a go if they didn't think they were up to it and (b) if Richey's words weren't up to scratch, that we'd even be here, having this discussion. So I'm looking forward to seeing what my favourite band of all time ever can come out with. Here's to 2009.

In which, I plea for sanity.

Sometimes, I despair.

I honestly cannot believe that in this supposedly enlightened day and age, 44,998 people still chose to listen to the ass-backwards, self-professed 'moralising' and dangerous reactionary conservativism of a worthless rag like The Daily Mail. 44,998. Read that number and weep, people. Nearly forty five thousand of middle England's finest purveyors of 'good taste' and 'decency' chose to pick up their phones, dial the BBC and register their disgust at the decision to air Ross and Brand's skit about Andrew Sachs. "Filth!", claimed 'Outraged' of Tunbridge Wells. "In appallingly bad taste!", roared 'Aghast' of Kingston-Upon-Thames. "Kill these feminist homosexual swan-eating Polish Muslim immigrants!", bayed 'R. Littlejohn' of... oh, wait.

And all this days after the sketch was actually broadcast. Yes, that's right ladies and gentlemen, two whole individuals registered their complaints with the BBC initially. Then, when The Daily Mail's ultra-right-wing, ultra-pro-censorship media correspondent happened to tune in and found it at odds with his own personal proclivities (Songs of Praise, tragically, it was not), he made the Alps out of a molehill, splashed the story over the front page of the Sunday edition of his newspaper (not that there were any more important issues to be rabbiting on about that day or anything) and created the biggest moral panic to hit Blighty since Marilyn Manson first dipped his toes in the English Channel about ten years ago. So now, just about everyone in the Home Counties has joined the gang and had a bit of a go... and they're still complaining. Yes, that's right, the number continues to grow as the days go on, and with every additional complaint, The Daily Mail's editorial staff get a step closer to realising that yes, actually, they do control the country.

And yet, it seems, not that many of the morally outraged have actually had a listen to the actual broadcast. Here, by the glorious power of Youtube, is the skit in all its glory:



Now then. I don't know about you but... I honestly cannot see the scope of the problem. It's hardly Enoch Powell's 'Rivers of Blood' or, my personal favourite, The Daily Mail's own "Hurrah for the Blackshirts!" But we do have to concede Andrew Sachs, and his daughter's, feelings amongst all of this. Except, their feelings do seem to fluctuate a bit. Read one report and you think the BBC aired the show despite their protests that they didn't want it broadcast. Naughty BBC then, you may think... everyone should have the right to refuse the presentation of materials about themselves, or those related to them, that they object to. Although you wouldn't think that from reading The Daily Mail, or any of the gutterpress for that matter, day in, day out, as fresh sex scandals drip from their grubby pages; as over-paid 'mistresses' kiss and tell about their one night stands with married, rich celebrities. But that's another story altogether. Read the next report and you find that Sachs only objected after the broadcast; that he initially gave it his approval. Naughty Sachs then, you may think, for smelling the potential exposure and ££££ in kicking up a stink and getting both his and his daughter's name in more column inches in a week than they have managed in about two decades. (What's the betting one of the two, if not both, will appear on either Celebrity Big Brother or I'm A Celebrity... Get Me Out Of Here! in the not too distant future?!) And if you read report number three, you'll think Sachs 'wasn't happy' about the material, but gave it the go ahead anyway... and then did a 360 degree turn after broadcast. And probably after he smelled the £££££££. Hmm....

To call the sketch 'morally reprehensible' is just plain idiotic. Perhaps Ross and Brand overstepped the mark by alluding to a personal relationship between Russell and Sachs' daughter that needn't have been exposed to the public if either of the parties objected. But then, all he says is that Brand slept with her. They then go on to state that he used a condom. Heaven forfend! Oh my God, the blasphemy! What filth, what degrading, disgusting, guttural immorality! Get this refuse off our airwaves! Or... not. You would think that a member of a burlesque troupe calling themselves the 'Satanic Sluts' might be used to the concept of consensual sexual intercourse. And that the listeners of a late night radio show might be used to the concept of consensual sexual intercourse. And, particularly, the kind of listeners that tend to tune in to Brand and Ross' show. All this is lost on The Daily Mail and its middle England readership, however; all they see is a penis and a vagina, all they hear is the suggestion of - shock! - homosexuality and, whoops, they're barfing into their begonias. Some go on to object to the rest of the sketch, in which the comedians suggest ways they can apologise to Sachs, one of which is to creep up on him in his bedroom and give him a cuddle... which, obviously, leads to more sexual innuendo. Sure, you might think it's purile but, get this guys and girls, try this concept on for size... it is not to be taken seriously. Woah, never thought of that one, ey? The concept of this part of the skit is 'how can we make it better?'; the comedy lies in the suggestions ultimately only making it worse... thereby defeating the point and making Brand and Ross appear, by association, a bit dumb. To take the suggestions at face value is just plain ludicrous. But then, what do you expect from 44,998 people who only complain after a newspaper has told them to?

This is not the most troubling aspect of the, I can barely bring myself to type it, 'scandal', however. Putting aside for one moment the disgraceful fact that Gordon Brown has actually addressed this issue, and that it has been brought up in the Houses of Parliament of all places, when, you know, our economy is falling down around us and that, let's just have a look at what The Daily Mail is doing now. A day after Brand resigned and the poor Radio 2 head followed suit (neither of these should ever have happened), the paper ran this article,

Outrage at Mock the Week repeat!

in which the airing of an old episode of topical, satirical panel show Mock the Week was objected to because of its inclusion of a two minute piece in which jokes are made about the Queen. 'Morally reprehensible' jokes, obviously... which, in The Mail's eyes, is just about anything that pokes any semblance of fun. Once again, the point is missed entirely: the sketch asks the performers to come up with lines that you wouldn't hear the Queen make in her Christmas speech and therefore, the humour is open to interpretation. It is not necessarily that the suggestions are truths that would never be voiced... if so, I'm sorry, but I'd have a hard time believing that the Queen knew the words to 'Boombastic' by Shaggy. And yes, the comedians can be ruthless. But that's Mock the Week for you. No one and nothing is safe... and that's the point. Take a joke. That's all it is. The Daily Mail, however, once again, sees the world in black and white rather than its actual shades of fabulous technicolor.

And it's just getting worse and worse. Try this article, from Friday's edition, on for size:

"We apologise to any readers who may be offended."

I nearly choked on my Wotsits when I read over these examples of, to quote the paper, 'smutty and degrading obsencities'. Offended? Really? By any of that? You'd think we were living in the 1950s, were in nuclear families and that women had 'their place' in the kitchen, perpetually cooking the husband's dinner. 'A sympathy shag'? I find the whole concept of Sarah Palin about 10,000 times more offensive. But dear, dear, delicately-sensibilitied Mail reader, here's a thought... if you don't like this stuff, change the channel. I'm personally offended every time that trumped up, self-aggrandising bigot Jeremy Clarkson is given any airtime whatsoever on British television but instead of picking up the phone and whining because "I don't like it!", I reach for the remote and find The Graham Norton Show instead. And again, as with Brand/Ross and Mock the Week, the point is so achingly, depressingly missed in virtually all of the examples listed. The comedy lies in the ridiculousness of the scenarios: in marrying one extremity with another. They're not... oh why do I even bother? We're never going to get through to these people. I mean, just look at this article from today:

Now HMV's in deep trouble...

Granted, this is a step away from the world of television, but it's the same root cause of the same ludicrous moral panic. Because yes, banning these badges will reduce knife crime in Britain. Obviously. And The Dark Knight? Well, it's a shocking glorification of knives and should be given an 18 certificate! In fact, just ban this sick filth now! Head, here's two hands... meet your new best friends.

Of course, it is tempting to glance a sensible, sane eye over these articles and brush them off as the ridiculously ill-informed, psuedo-moralistic knee-jerk garbage that they are... but that ignores the underlying, really rather worrying issue, which is that, if 44,998 people can be buoyed into action by a single article in The Mail, and those numbers can then effectively bring the BBC to its knees and force them to make radical changes, however unnecessary or objectionable, what else can middle England's favourite 'journalists' achieve? What other programmes (or other forms of media output) whose political, moral or social stance they object to, can they force to 'change'? The articles above indicate that they're already trying it: what is the Mock the Week article but a blindly Royalist viewpoint taken to its most ridiculous extremity? ("We cannot mock our Monarch!" "But it's in the title of the show!" "Then she is off limits to you, heathens!") Is there any way of explaining the objections listed in Friday's article other than that they contradict an almost evangelical Christian ideology? The politics here aren't the Mail's... so they must be silenced. It's absolutely, unequivocally abhorrent... and it's damn worrying. Especially if another 45,000 people actually buy into any more of this crap.

Please, people. Don't be daft bastards. Put down this poor excuse for toilet paper, pick up the remote and change the damn channel if you need to. Just don't be responsible for landing us in a Mary Whitehouse-led media climate where 'knock knock' jokes are about the only acceptable form of humour and Little House on the Prairie fills up our daily schedules.

Don't listen to The Daily Mail. Thank you.

Addendum

Just found this

Well well well, Daily Mail. You bleat about the insensitivity of joking about murdering prostitutes now, but it wasn't that a year or so ago when you published this Littlejohn column, now was it?:

"That doesn't make it justifiable homicide, but in the scheme of things the deaths of these five women is no great loss."

I still can't get over that one. But did 44,998 people complain about this delightfully insensitive, utterly inappropriate load of garbage? Did they hell.

Oh, and it's worthwhile noting that this article about Top Gear was the lead story on the website... just above something about genetically modified mice and, oh yes, a couple of little bits about that economic crisis and, oh yeah, that little election thing that's going on in some country somewhere... these guys man, they've really got their priorities straight.

Screenaged Noise: Everclear - 'Wonderful'

I was woken from a Manics-orientated slumber some time in late 1997 by the sound of a curious Beach Boys-cum-Green Day rock song emanating from a cobwebbed car stereo. Said vehicle belonged to my achingly cool uncle, who was already responsible for my introduction to the world of both Nirvana and - for my sins - the Crash Test Dummies. Said rock song was 'So Much For The Afterglow', the lead track from American four piece Everclear's (probably) greatest album. After having been loaned this LP and had it set constantly to 'repeat' on my Super Deluxe Hi-Fi System for about six months, the Manics released 'This Is My Truth' and I promptly forgot all about Art Alexsias and co. Until this lovely ditty came along. As the first single from a set of two concept albums released by the band in 2000-01, 'Wonderful' acted as both the perfect re-introduction to the band and a startling, but glorious, change of direction. Far poppier than much of their previous material, but no less poignant or catchy, the song instantly burrowed its way into my skull and made one heck of an impression. Its genius lies in both its simplicity and its sincerity... qualities to be found in spades on both of the 'Songs From An American Movie' records (though personally, I am slightly more partial to part one, 'Learning How To Smile' than I am part two, 'Good Time For A Bad Attitude'). So... a fine, fine introduction to a God-damn-it-much-more-than-fine band. Spend all your money on their records, you scamps.

Satan will try anything.

And on All Hallows Eve...

Um. Anyone else find the timing of the release of this news a little TOO appropriate?

This is the Devil's work my children, run to your homes, lock your doors, BURN YOUR COPIES OF 'ABC'!

Screenaged Noise: Eels - 'Last Stop: This Town'

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the wonderfully weird world of Eels. 'Last Stop: This Town' was the first single from their second LP, the critically acclaimed (and deservedly so) Electro-Shock Blues and, really, there's no better introduction to the band. I defy you not to be swaying in time with the music by the time the final run-through of the chorus comes around. And what about that promo video, eh? Talking carrots and everything. What more could you ask for?

PS Download Electro-Shock Blues now if you don't have it: album of 1998, believe me.
PPS Eels' gig at The Sage on March 1 this year is vying for position as performance of the year. (Funny that, Stellastarr* March 1, 2006, Eels March 1, 2008... spooky. Ish.)

Watch with mother.

Now that the brand spanking new seasons of our favourite American television shows are hitting their stride, it seems only prudent, does it not, to take them off the air for a week here, a week there and, get this, maybe even a few weeks in a row just to, you know, keep viewers on their toes and that. I mean, why wouldn’t you want to jeopardise the strength of the fan base you are so delicately accumulating, or confuse the hell out of those that have stuck with you since the beginning? Who really needs those fuckers anyway? The answer, of course, is every programme that has ever come spooling out of the inner recesses of its creator’s warped little mind, and so it’s with a significant amount of bemusement that I cast my eye over the USA’s scheduling plans at this time of year and ask, “why, gogglebox overlords, WHY??!!” Just look at TV Guide’s listings for the next few weeks: Heroes is about to get its first broadcasting break, Prison Break is one on, one off, one on, one off again, Fringe is now at the start of a THREE week absence and Terminator, well, that show just doesn’t know where the bloody hell it is half of the time. It’s small wonder so many shows are hacked from the schedules before they’ve had a chance to flex their muscles with the big boys – how on Earth are they ever expected to compete when viewers can’t even be assured that the bleeding things are actually going to be available for them to watch?

The consequences for you, dear reader, are simply that this blog entry will be shorter than perhaps expected, and that this trend will more than likely continue into the coming weeks. Admittedly, I have slacked somewhat with Screenaged Kicks for the last week or so (largely due to my various excursions around the UK) but, it seems, this two week television review update actually won’t be the equivalent of War and Peace. We do have two episodes of South Park, Desperate Housewives and Heroes to stroke our collective chins over, but of the others, merely one. So let’s stop beating around the bush, shall we? Fringe. First and foremost, did anyone else catch the potential South Park homage in this gore-fest of an episode? Oh sure, exploding heads are nothing new but when Walter and co. are working on the remains of poor Patient Zero in the lab, we are subjected to a delightfully gratuitous shot of what is left of her skull… and it looks exactly the same as Matt and Trey’s Britney caricature. You know, the one earlier this season when she attempts to blow her head off and then ends up wandering around with just a chin for a face? The shape’s identical and everything! You can’t tell me that’s a coincidence. Nah ah… no way. Squealing fan boy moment aside, ‘The Cure’ functions perfectly nicely as a stand-alone episode with a few innocuous nods to the show’s ever-developing mythology: seeing Massive Dynamic woman again, Peter’s pontificating over the significance of The Pattern and so on. It’s well written and paced, maintaining the urgency of the overall investigation by punctuating the narrative with a series of enigmas and resolving them hastily, while concurrently returning to the central point of disequilibrium on sufficient occasions to reiterate the gravitas of the overall situation. As usual, the pre-credits sequence is a corker; the execution of the ‘micro waving’ (for want of a less absurd description) is shockingly graphic and considerably disturbing, further lending credence to the notion that Fringe could give its idolised predecessor The X Files a run for its money in introductory shock value. The only real points of contention lie in the continued overuse of ‘characterial sympathy’; yet again, the show’s writers are determined to draw Olivia’s personal history into the story and, unfortunately, it doesn’t really work here. Her stepfather abused her mother, so she feels an affinity for the women who have been abducted and are being experimented upon? Well… if Fringe hadn’t already thrown this sort of plot point at us with each preceding episode, perhaps I would’ve let it go. But the highly tenuous nature of the link betrays the writers’ desperation: they’re looking for issues to graft onto the plot, rather than allowing them to rise naturally out of it. I dunno… perhaps I’m just being a bit of an emotional buzz kill. I’m sure a large proportion of viewers love this sort of stuff and normally, yeah, I’d probably side with them. But this doesn’t feel like narrative and character holding hands and waltzing off happily into the distance; this feels like they’re being chained together in a darkened room and force fed whiny platitudes for all eternity. Guys, it wouldn’t hurt, you know, to just give us a week where the emotional investment is kept to a minimum. Just a thought.

106: ‘The Cure’: 8.4
Wrs: Brad Caleb Kane & Felicia D. Henderson; Dr: Bill Eagles

I’m tempted to say the same of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles after this week’s fourth or fifth slow mover of an episode in a row. Look, I understand that it would be somewhat counterproductive to make each instalment an all out action fest of pant-wettingly gargantuan proportions as the inherent formula of the show (John and Sarah pursued by whacked out cyborgs from the future) would become very stale very fast. But come on guys! Give us something, would ya? A mystery here and there, perhaps? Some life-threatening situations or conundrums to work our way out of? Anything but more Shirley Manson! Okay, okay… she wasn’t that bad in this one. At least she got to play up the ‘I’m a robot and don’t understand human emotion’ side of her ‘character’. But sending her ‘daughter’ to a shrink? Is that really the most riveting plot point the production staff of the show can come up with? And before any diehards start bleating about the significance of the whole ‘lower level’, exactly how much time did we spend in those secret rooms with the machine that’s developed a sense of humour? I’d hazard a guess at about, oooh, four minutes tops. The main focus of the hour, undoubtedly, was on the human psychoanalysis of Savannah and, later, John by ‘Skynet’s’ latest recruit. Which wouldn’t be so bad if there was something significant to be said in amongst it all. Sadly though, all we get is the resolve for cyborg Mommy dearest to stroke her child a bit more (oh, and build some neato Lego sculptures) and, after a number of irritatingly laconic false starts, the revelation that, shock of all shocks, it was John that killed Sarcyssian in the season premiere. Well really, did any of us see that one coming? Blow me down with a feather, what a plot twist! Those writers sure know how to suckerpunch us, huh? Well, erm, no… not in the bleeding slightest. It’s not even as if we were treated to much more of an insight into the inner workings of young Connor either (and yes, the double entendre is intended there… nudge nudge, wink wink): his broken utterances, steely glares and limited revelations about his feelings towards his mother don’t really add up to anything satisfactory. So what else do we have? Well, the plot is given something of a kick in the pants with the introduction of a new, kick ass female Terminator, and the sequence between she and Cameron in the elevator is the perfect balance of suspense and, oddly enough, comedy, but then there’s the other side of the multi-faceted narrative coin: Derek’s love interest who suddenly pops up out of nowhere, having a little jog and they indulge in, you know, a bit of sex. As you do. There’s one tiny snippet of relevance to the on-going story toward episode’s end when we find she’s been photographing our favourite fugitives (saucy minx!) but, in the interim, we have to wade through several scenes of irrelevant mush to get there. The poor woman is given virtually no characterisation of any merit whatsoever and, consequently, I couldn’t give a flying f**k about her past with Brian Austin Green. Really, I couldn’t. Sorry Terminator, but if you want to earn your recent promotion to full season bigwig (yes, FOX commissioned a complete set of 22 episodes), you’re going to have to do a lot better than this. Here’s a thought: move the plot forward. Here’s another thought: get Thomas Dekker to take his clothes off. It’d make me happy anyway.

206: ‘The Tower is Tall but the Fall is Short’: 6.5
Wr: John Enbom; Dr: Tawnia McKiernan

Perhaps the Terminator production staff should pop down to the Prison Break studios for some hints and tips. Truly, I find myself overwhelmed at the quality of material that these guys have been putting out, week after week, since the sub-par season premiere. Midway through last year’s lacklustre third season, I was ready to write the show off. It was good for two years, I thought, until the writers tripped over their own limited format and began scrambling for ideas in an effort to keep things interesting. And yeah, when we were treated to the somewhat transparent ‘Scylla’, I was sure we were about to be subjected to another year of the same. Not so. Oh, how I’m eating my words now. Prison Break has really turned around since its effective reboot at the start of September; once the pieces were shunted into place, albeit in a somewhat clunky fashion, the exploits of Michael Schofield and co. have once again become must see TV. And ‘The Price’ continues this new found tradition. Structurally, the episode is quite a straightforward one. The narrative is divided into two principle storylines – the retrieval of the General’s card and Roland’s betrayal – and is padded out with some additional sequences involving the fantastically deranged Gretchen. The interweaving of these strands is executed with finite precision, with each building toward an eminently satisfying crescendo at the ¾ hour mark, following which the aftermath is played out in all its delicious glory. Keeping the story simple, not jumping between snippets of narrative here and there, gives ‘The Price’ a cohesive feel and ensures that the weight of each plot’s ultimate outcome is delivered with significant force. The failure of Lincoln’s plan to acquire the General’s card, for example, while telegraphed, is highly satisfying because it comes encased in the frankly superb execution of Roland’s downfall, discovery and (part) redemption. This is by far the episode’s highlight, in every possible dimension: the sequence in which he confronts Wyatt is expertly written, with each beat more callous and shocking than the last. It is also wonderfully executed; Bobby Roth’s direction is calculated and methodical, drawing the tragic horror of the moment out for maximum effect. And let’s not forget the actors involved. This is surely James Liao’s finest hour; for a character that most Prison Break fans have either loathed or felt utterly indifferent about over the last seven weeks to receive the level of concern that is now being bandied about in fan forums is testament to the skill of the actor playing him. In the space of one or two small scenes, Roland becomes hugely empathetic, and not only because he is faced with death, but because he is truly redemptive. The closing sequence, in which Michael quietly clings to him until he passes away, successfully conveys this notion and is satisfyingly poignant… something that perhaps we wouldn’t always be quick to associate with a show as fast-paced and unforgiving as this. It certainly left a sinking feeling in my gut and that’s got to be a sign of greatness, no matter how you look at it. Elsewhere, Sarah’s flashbacks are wonderfully depicted, and thrillingly sick, and her all-too-brief encounter with PSYCHOBITCH Gretchen is yet another home run: brilliantly warped, yet equally rather moving, stuff. It is certainly refreshing to see a show that so many had sent packing from their weekly schedules, shake itself down, pick up the pieces and resolve to return to what made it so God damn addictive in the first place. Here’s hoping it continues.

408: ‘The Price’: 9.1
Wr: Graham Roland; Dr: Bobby Roth

Et tu, Heroes, et tu. I’ve harped on just about enough over the past few weeks about this show’s return to season one standards so I’m not going to bore you all again with it, except to say that yes, episodes six and seven, the two part ‘Dying of the Light’/’Eris Quod Sum’, are really rather good. You wouldn’t know it from glancing at TV.com, of course, but then, how far can you really trust reviews that consist of ‘OMG CLAIRE IS SO ANNOYING AND JESUS WON’T THEY JUST GET RID OF MAYA AND NO ONE CARES ABOUT PETER AND OMG OMG OMG EXPLODE’? Well, I’ll let you all make up your own minds about that one. I read an interesting article in the current issue of the UK’s SFX magazine the other day, in which Tim Kring revealed that the writing staff’s current approach to scripting the show consists of ‘Haiku storytelling’. To quote the man, ‘You take a story that would normally take ten beats to tell and you try to find a way to tell it in five. It makes for a very exciting kind of storytelling where every scene is very complete and very full.’ For the most part, I agree with the implementation of this approach. Slowness of pace and padding of plot is what made Heroes’ second season somewhat below par, so upping the ante in this fashion has got to be a good thing… and from the evidence we’ve been given for the past few weeks, that theory’s been borne out. I do have one major reservation, however, and that is that the active attempt to shoehorn plot, to compact it into a set amount of narratalogical space, may ultimately prove counterproductive to its own execution. Sometimes, narrative has to be allowed room to breathe; events and developments need some time to develop and prosper. This is particularly true of character beats: while it hasn’t happened to a significant extent yet, it is possible that Kring’s notion of ‘Haiku storytelling’ may not allow his audience to warm to any changes or developments in the arcs of particular characters. On a minute scale, Tracey and Nathan’s minor-scale romance (holding hands!) is indicative of this as it seems to have sprung out of nowhere, while Sylar’s attempts to be a ‘hero’, to rid himself of his villainous past, while explained quite logically within the context of the plot and also understandable, nevertheless niggle a little when compared to the sheer wealth of his, well, evilness in seasons past. Perhaps if this development had been given, say, eight or nine episodes to reach the point where he is trying to be good rather than, well, one or two, viewers wouldn’t be so ready to down remotes in bemused disgust and return to their copies of The Umbrella Academy.

Still, this reviewer is perfectly happy to accept Sylar’s current status as potential hero-in-the-making, if only because, well, you do have to drop all semblance of believability when it comes to this show really, don’t you? It’s making for some great sequences between he and Peter (the electro-fight in the first episode is awesome) and, ultimately, Kring and co are careful to ensure that shafts of Gabriel past come shining through when the carrot is dangled in front of him: see his potential ‘recruitment’ to Pinehurst for further evidence of this. And hey, what a series of twists and turns overall, eh? First, Adam Monroe snuffs it in one of the most surprising deaths by old age ever depicted on screen. Then, Maury Parkman bites the dust without even so much as a ‘Goodbye Matty, nice messing with your head’. And let’s not forget Daphne’s betrayal (nope, definitely didn’t see that one coming), the split second in which we all thought it might be curtains for poor Matt and his turtle (is it just me, or is Knox getting ever more likeably bad ass with each episode?), Mohinder’s continued lack of mental stability and, of course, that moment at the end of episode six in which Peter’s powers go bye bye. Which is probably a good thing, in all honesty, for the foreseeable future. Arthur’s power – transference of others’ abilities from them to him – is completely logical, given Sylar and Peter’s similar variants on the theme, and is, evidently, the most potentially lethal of them all, making him a superbly sinister villain. And on that subject, what about Puppet Guy, eh? His scenes in ‘Dying of the Light’ simply ooze menace; for the first time since the season opener, the production staff take their time with the depiction of the sequence, milking every possible scare out of a deliciously harrowing situation. The ‘Russian Roulette’ with Claire’s family is fascinating to watch, even if the outcome is ultimately rather predictable, and it’s largely thanks to the actor playing Doyle: I defy you not to want to crawl right behind the sofa whenever he opens his mouth or, indeed, moves a limb. In amongst all of this general marvellousness, we are also treated to some lovely comedy moments involving Hiro and Ando (Mr. African Isaac is first and foremost), Maya’s potential exit from the show (am I the only one whooping? Sorry…) and, um, Sylar’s frankly ridiculous escape from Level 5. ‘You don’t know what you’re capable of’ and then wham bam, thank you ma’am, I’m out? Hmm. A little too convenient methinks. Shame really, as it’s the only real blot on an otherwise damn fine couple of episodes. Here’s to Hiro’s spirit walk in a couple of weeks…

306: ‘Dying of the Light’: 9.2
Wrs: Chuck Kim & Christopher Zatta; Dr: Daniel Attias

307: ‘Eris Quod Sum’: 8.7
Wr: Jesse Alexander; Dr: Jeannot Szwarc

…and here’s to Mrs McCluskey getting straight up out of her hospital bed, marching back down Wysteria Lane and clonking Dave over the head with that great big baseball bat pronto. What a SOB, eh? Rearranging the items in Karen’s home after having decided to throw her a birthday party, just so that she can appear to have dementia and be going a wee bit senile. Evil, evil, evil. While I was initially sceptical about my potential investment in this season’s ‘mystery’ narrative, I have to hand it to the writers for having turned this old stick in the mud around, yet again, by cooking up some deliciously twisted developments. It certainly helps that the brilliant Kathryn Joosten is getting a substantial slice of the action; she’s gone from being an amusing aside to one of the most loved characters in Desperate Housewives history in the space of a few short seasons and, I have to confess, I was more than a little irked at her departure from our screens at the end of the superb ‘Mirror, Mirror’. I’m sure she’ll be back as soon as she can make a quick escape, but the fact that I spent the last few moments of the episode screaming “no!” at the screen (albeit in my head) certainly says a lot about the quality of both her character and her performance. It made the episode for me and that’s actually saying something: Jeff Greenstein’s script is a wonderful piece of narratalogical craftsmanship, weaving together a series of seemingly disparate plot strands around the collective attendance at a specific locale, and the decision to preview the ultimate outcome in the teaser, and then slowly reveal the build up to it by character, works wonders as a piece of original, and highly entertaining, storytelling. Plus, of course, we are given insight into the events that have led our core housewives to the current situations they find themselves in which, in some cases (notably Bree), is actually quite startling. Excellent stuff then, and certainly the best episode of the season so far. ‘Back in Business’, the previous week’s offering, while not quite up to this standard, is also nicely structured around the theme of the ‘green eyed monster’ and offers up some wonderfully unexpected sequences: particularly the strands involving Orson and Bree, whose marriage is certainly suffering as a result of Mrs Van Der Kamp’s success. While Lynette’s descent into petty jealousy and, indeed, desperation is difficult to watch (I covered my eyes during a great deal of it), it is all the more successful because of it, Gabrielle and Carlos’ decision to teach their child the facts of life results in a number of rather humorous moments and, of course, Susan’s ludicrous attempt to hide her son’s relationship with Jackson from Mike produce the usual round of unfortunate Myer related klutziness. Ultimately, a set of decidedly above average episodes: one excellent, the other rather good. Desperate Housewives is most definitely on something of an upswing.

504: ‘Back in Business’: 8.2
Wrs: John Pardee & Joey Murphy; Dr: Scott Ellis

505: ‘Mirror, Mirror’: 9.0
Wr: Jeff Greenstein; Dr: David Grossman

And South Park is most definitely on something of a crazy, whacked out, most-probably-Mary-Jane-fuelled-spin. Matt and Trey’s latest offering, the two part Cloverfield homage ‘Pandemic’, is so utterly, utterly ridiculous that you just can’t help but be awed by it. The plot, in a nutshell, is as follows: The boys decide to form a Peruvian flute band, as they believe they make a considerable amount of money. The government then bans Peruvian flute bands on the grounds that they are a nuisance. Following this, giant guinea creatures attack cities across America and leave devastation in their wake. The boys are carted off to Peru by the evil head of Homeland Security, as it is only one of them that can save the world from complete destruction. Scathing political commentary? Astute social observation? Um. Pointless tomfoolery. Yeah, that’ll be it. Still, the whole thing is rather amusing, if only because it just gets stupider and stupider with each passing moment. Randy’s incessant use of the camcorder raises a few smirks and it must be noted that the animation/direction of these sequences is pretty darn awesome. Stone and Parker certainly pay their respects to J.J. Abrams’ film in a highly fulfilling fashion. The use of Craig as the central protagonist also makes for a refreshing change, allowing an outsider’s view of Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny’s exploits to be given centre stage (although the joke does wear a little thin after a while… when Eric attests that “no-one likes hanging around people who complain all the time”, I have to confess to being somewhat in agreement with him). The Peruvian flute band element is good for a few giggles too, particularly in the responses of the general public to their performances: “it’s so… cultural” is just the kind of meaningless epithet that you might hear shot in the general direction of the players in Tube stations. On the whole, ‘Pandemic’ certainly isn’t the most meaningful, or indeed the most laugh-out-loud memorable, narrative in South Park’s illustrious twelve year history, but it’s certainly a fun ride. Utter and complete nonsense, then, but enjoyable nonsense all the same.

1210: ‘Pandemic’: 8.3
Wr: Trey Parker; Dr: Trey Parker

1211: ‘Pandemic 2: The Startling’: 8.0
Wr: Trey Parker; Dr: Trey Parker

Next week, I will be reviewing:
Desperate Housewives 506
Prison Break 409
Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles 207
South Park 1212

Which means, no new episodes of:
Heroes
Fringe

Paul's social life: BREAKING NEWS!!

This just in from our roving reporter on the front line...

Paul has been invited to an Alice In Wonderland themed house warming party next weekend and is thinking about attending.

He is thinking, "March Hare" and now needs your help in the acquisition/construction of a costume.

Assistance, much?

Screenaged Noise: Stellastarr* - My Coco

Lo, I returneth to these hallowed shores of blog postage with a new feature. Oh yes, tonight sees the début of 'Screenaged Noise', wherein I post a music video for a kick ass song that, really, you need to hear in order to live the rest of your life. Actually, it's just an excuse for me to hunt for cool music on Youtube. But epic win either way, right?

Kicking us off, we have Manhattan's stupendously named Stellastarr* (yes, that asterisk is crucial, God dammit), with a live performance of the superbly catchy, and rather sexual really, 'My Coco'. Yes, you guessed it, the embedding rights on the actual promo video have been disabled. Boo bloody hiss. Still, this does give us a chance to see Michael Jurin, the band's lead guitarist and purveyor of mesmerisingly high-pitched backing vocals, in action. When I saw these guys play at the Roadhouse in Manchester (March 1st 2006, date fans), not only was it one of the best things I have ever seen (it still has a place in my top 10 gigs of all time), but I managed to have perhaps the greatest fan girl moment ever when Michael suddenly appeared next to me post-gig and I spent ten minutes yabbering to him about God only knows what. It's become something of a blur; all I can really remember is the phrase 'you are ridiculously hot' running through my mind ad nauseum. Oh dear.

So, without further ado, 'My Coco'. And check that incredibly lengthy, deliciously sexy guitar solo. You don't get those on Stereophonics albums, that's for sure.

There are busy times ahead.

Paul's Schedule

Tuesday 14th October: UP AND OUT! Live
Wednesday 15th October: JULY RISING acoustic performance at Hoko 10, with Limp Rizted to follow
Thursday 16th October: DOWN 'TIL WE'RE UNDERGROUND at WHQ
Friday 17th October: FOALS/ESSER (GONZO MTV2 TOUR), York Fibbers - to review for MTV2
Saturday 18th October: The Bunker (well, obviously)
Sunday 19th October: *breathe*
Monday 20th October: BLOOD RED SHOES, Newcastle Academy 2
Tuesday 21st October: FRANK TURNER, The Cockpit, Leeds
Wednesday 22nd October: FRANK TURNER, York Duchess (plus probably Limp Rizted afterwards)
Thursday 23rd October: FRANK TURNER, Glasgow Oran Mor
Friday 24th October: FRANK TURNER, Manchester Academy 3 (plus probably Jilly's afterwards)
Saturday 25th October: Tom's birthday night out
Sunday 26th October: *relax* Again.

As you can see, I am currently at the epicentre of a whirlpool of activity and, as a consequence, I don't have all that much time to sit at my computer, bashing away at the keyboard in attempt to form some coherent sentences. Granted, I have today to take a - somewhat brief - breather, but this doesn't really allow enough minutes, nay hours, for me to intricately piece together the kind of television reviews that I normally spend the better part of my weekend crafting. So, this is your disclaimer, ladies and gentlemen. What you're gonna get may not be up to scratch. Yeah, I said it. Basically, I'm gonna just summarise my thoughts on each of the four new episodes of American programmes that I cast my weary eyes over this week, rather than wax poetic in paragraph after paragraph about their minutiae. So.. here we go.

Heroes continues to be bloody marvellous. 'Angels and Demons' is a prime example of why this show deserves many, many more illustrious seasons to come: it is a wonderful marriage of character development with plot twist, turn and revelation and, as a result, is nothing short of exhilarating. I defy anyone who wasn't rooted to the spot when Peter nearly sliced open his mother's head, Hiro 'stabbed' Ando (hmm... I think perhaps that's not quite how it happened!) or, perhaps more significantly, Maury Parkman showed up and was OWNED by Daddy Petrelli. The reveals certainly come thick and fast toward episode's end and act as a fantastic pay off to the questions and complications that have arisen from the first four episodes. There are a multitude of jaw-droppingly cool moments too: Mohinder's transformation into insane Spiderprofessor being one of them, particularly the superbly executed moments of tension between he and Maya when she's hiding under the table, Claire's encounter with Vortex Guy, the second coolest Hero/Villain we've seen in quite some time, Claire's mom's ultra creepy encounter with Puppet Guy, the coolest Villain we've seen, and of course, Angela's dream, chock full of delicious gore. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Christine Rose is one of the finest actresses to grace our screens in years. She makes the scene in which she reveals that Nathan was experimented upon; while Adrian Pasdar is certainly on fine form, her blend of the sinister and the sorrowful is just perfect. And how about Linderman, huh? All Maury's influence and a kick in the stomach to those 'fans' who didn't have the patience to persevere and just wrote the development off as 'an unbelievable twist in an absurd show'. "Pah!", I say to you all, "Who's coming crawling back now?!"

305: 'Angels and Monsters': 8.9
Wrs: Adam Armus & Kay Foster; Dr: Anthony Hemingway

Fringe gave us its fifth instalment this week after a short absence and it was something of a beaut. The episode's core concept - that a human being could potentially wittingly or unwittingly control electricity - was explored fantastically, offering up a number of hugely memorable water cooler moments: the guy's arm in the mechanical device, the car alarms and lights going off, and particularly the entire pre-credits sequence in the elevator which was superbly shot for maximum effect. The decision to cut from the chaos to a still shot of the ground, from which we view the ultimate collision, was inspired, magnifying the horror of the incident to an even greater degree than we perhaps would've experienced had we simply been treated to an aerial shot or even remained in the elevator. The subsequent exploration of this theme was also very well handled: kudos to the writers for allowing the viewer to care about the outcome of the investigation by beautifully characterising the role of Joseph, and leading the narrative oft-times from his perspective. Granted, we had our usual absurd blast of barely-even-psuedo-science from Walter (electromagnetic signatures to cassette tapes to homing pigeons is um... yeah), but I'm starting to forgive the show for it to be honest, especially following the superb 'The Observer' which effectively began to shift the show's self-imposed rules (did you all spot him getting out of the elevator before Joseph got in? Did you?) Plus, Olivia's characterisation was delicately handled, paying dividends as a result: I actually began to care about her previous relationship with John, and the entire 'part of his consciousness is in yours' angle certainly holds promise for future wackiness. On the whole, a solid effort and further evidence that Fringe is only just getting started.

105: 'Power Hungry': 8.7
Wr: Julia Cho & Jason Cahill; Dr: Christopher Misiano

Okay everyone, I know this is gonna come as a bit of a shock so I'm just forewarning you before I actually type it. Are you ready? Okay. Here goes. Shawn Pyfrom was actually in Desperate Housewives this week. A lot. There. Feels good, doesn't it? Shame he spent most of it in a suit and not out of a suit, or out of most of his clothes for that matter, but hell, I'll take whatever morsels I can get. There were no hot, juicy snogs with hot, juicy boys either, which is obviously depressing, but his storyline held its own and was fairly innocuous... and a whole hell of a lot more interesting than last week's Solis pity party. Granted, we're still on the same 'oh woe is me, look how far from grace I've fallen! Waaaaah!' motif but at least the whole thing was handled with a lot more reserve and panache in 'Kids Ain't Like Everybody Else' than it has previously been. And now that I've mentioned that thematically leading title... 503 was very much the children's episode, from Danielle returning with a simply fabulous new look darling, and a vegetarian, Jewish six year old to boot, to Juanita bullying poor little MJ. What can sometimes be something of an off-putter for television drama actually turned into the best thing about the episode, thanks to some skilful writing from show stalwart Joe Keenan. The effects on the respective families were the interesting part and allowed for some superbly pitched moments, such as Orson's scolding of Bree over allowing Benjamin to be lost to his real parents or, indeed, the hilarious front-lawn fight between Susan and Gabrielle, leading into a lovely reconciliatory scene, with booze, in Gaby's house. It's worth mentioning that Dave's story picked up the pace somewhat here too, and was delightfully intertwined with a smirk-inducing nugget of a C-storyline involving Tom's longing to form a garage band to boot. I concede, Housewives writers, I am now dying to know exactly what this guy's history is and what his plans are for Wysteria Lane. Well done all, you've intrigued again. Best episode so far this season and one that can certainly hold its own amongst the big guns of years past.

503: 'Kids Ain't Like Everybody Else': 8.5
Wr: Joe Keenan; Dr: Bethany Rooney

Oh, and let's have a shirtless Shawn Pyfrom just for good measure:



And that brings us, finally, to South Park's breast cancer episode. I'm not gonna say all that much other than that it was a vast, vast improvement on 'The China Probrem' and that it certainly felt like a great deal of effort was put into both the writing and the execution of the episode. It was good to see a whole host of familiar faces back - Wendy, for starters, Bebe, Craig, Clyde, the Kindergarten kids, Ike and, of course, your favourites and mine, the goth/emo kids! Let's have a warm round of applause for these guys, shall we?



While 'Breast Cancer Show Ever' certainly wasn't laugh-a-minute, roll-around-on-the-floor-in-hysterics funny, it certainly amused (particularly all the references to titty cancer), and the central plot of Cartman trying to worm his way out of an encounter with Wendy was flawlessly executed. Matt and Trey did an excellent job of keeping the viewer guessing as to whether the face-off would actually occur and, of course, what the outcome would be. I'm tempted to say this was a triumph for character development, of all things, in a comedy show but I suspect Eric will be, rightly, back to his usual ways next week. Still, it kept me entertained and that's certainly a whole hell of a lot of steps back in the right direction.

1209: 'Breast Cancer Show Ever': 8.5
Wr: Trey Parker; Dr: Trey Parker

Right. Done. Now to add to my schedule. See, it doesn't end at the 26th. While I have taken the following week off work to recharge my batteries, I'm finally gonna do what I've said I would for ages and go out every single night of a single week in Newcastle, doing different things (but largely, clubbing. It's just that you can't really on the Sunday night.) So...

Monday 27th October: The Cooperage
Tuesday 28th October: Get Y Sk8s On
Wednesday 29th October: Limp Rizted (with The Automatic... for Hallowe'en)
Thursday 30th October: Stone Love
Friday 31st October: ??????? Somewhere for Hallowe'en... but not Legends!
Saturday 1st November: RANCID at Newcastle Academy, followed by The Bunker
Sunday 2nd November: EASTPAK ANTIDOTE TOUR feat FLOGGING MOLLY, Newcastle Academy

So yeah. Busy.