Sam's Ramblings

Shame

2012-02-24T23:44:00.000Z

Fellow Goldsmiths alumni Steve McQueen (well, I’m not quite sureI count as I was so effing Goldsmiths to the extreme and dropped out) reuniteswith the gorgeous Michael Fassbender after their 2008 babe of British cinemaHunger, to present the second in a series of modern masterpieces named after feelingsone never really wants to feel.

Brandon (Fassbender) is an attractive thirty-somethingliving the city life in New York, only this life is tarnished with hisconsuming addiction to sex. He masturbates frequently, sleeps with prostitutesoften, and spends a great deal of his time watching pornography. It’s only whenhis scatty younger sister Sissy arrives (played with a brilliant fragility byCarey Mulligan), that we begin to learn that his issues resonate deeply, fromchildhood experiences we’re left to wonder about.

Shame is certainly hard-hitting but ultimately refreshing.Sex addiction is a complex condition that receives much less awareness in society,compared to substance abuse for example, and the arts seem to have apparentlyfollowed suit.

Fassbender makesBrandon incredibly real, giving him vulnerability so raw and compelling whichleaves the audience intrigued and captivated. When he experiences erectiledysfunction with a colleague he seems to genuinely like, he has an emotionalbreakdown. Perhaps he fears true intimacy, the one thing he may actually need,you can only guess. Brandon’s a victim, as is Sissy.

It’s clear that the film is made under McQueen’s artisticallyslick direction. The close-up of Mulligan’s lovely elfin face as she singslongingly in a bar, the fast-paced tracking of Brandon jogging through New YorkCity’s darkened streets, the out-of-focus children’s cartoon in the backgroundof one of Brandon and Sissy’s intense arguments, depicting the tragic irony oftheir relationship.

Shame is definitely bleak. Bleak but beautiful.

As forFassbender’s you-know-what: Magnificent.

Bright Light Bright Light @ Central

2012-02-21T13:46:00.000Z

Last season is every season with synth-pop’s new leadingman.

London Fashion Week is here yet again, and as men’s fashionis ever-growing in London, the British Fashion Council will be introducingLondon Collections: Men in June, so menswear will now have a whole week insteadof the current Menswear Day.

It must’ve been an honour then, for fine emo-electro boywonder Bright Light Bright Light to close one of the last LFW Menswear Days aswe know them (a load of the capital’s best designers getting their work inthere at the last minute) with the launch of his second single ‘Disco Moment’at swanky private members club Central.

Bright Light Bright Light is the moniker of Rod Thomas, aWelsh synthpop extraordinaire, who, initially discovered as an acousticsinger-songwriter, has since taken his love for 80s and 90s club classics andused it as inspiration for his own style of enjoyably emotional electronica.

More fun than Hurts, and more camp than Frankmusik, BrightLight Bright Light leads the way for the fellas in this relatively smallmatriarchal genre led by the wonderful likes of Robyn, Kylie, and EllieGoulding, the latter of whom Thomas was the opening act for throughout her 2010‘Lights’ tour.

After walking down into the venue’s basement out from thewarmer autumn air once my straightest friend got chatted up by a much-olderrich American gent, we were greeted by a modestly small stage which waseventually transformed in to a huge visual feast of vibrantly coloured smoke,extravagant costumes, abstract choreography, vivid imagery amongst a largevideo backdrop, and aptly, lots of bright lights… bright lights.

The visuals went hand-in-hand with the setlist’s elevensongs, to make an amazingly all-round sensual experience for the packed room offashionistas, clutching goodie-bags with “You Make It So Hard” written on themin big bold capitals. Standard.

My favourite moments of the night, disco moments so to speak(sorry), were the blissfully new wavy opening track ‘A New Word to Say’, thetwinkling throbs of ‘Cry at Films’, Thomas’s sweet vocals on the pulsating ‘Howto Make a Heart’ (geddit? Sorry again), and of course, ‘Disco Moment’, aninfectious piece of perfect pop that could go hand-in-hand with Robyn’s‘Dancing On My Own’.

From the reaction in the room, it’s certainly safe to saythat Rod Thomas is here to stay.

http://brightlightx2.com

Bright Light Bright Light ‘Disco Launch’ single launchparty.
Central.
21/09/11.

Homegrown, Episode 2, Part 2

2012-02-16T17:09:00.000Z

Sam

   I finish my cigarette, drag Dan to the cloakroom and we leave, finding Adam weirdly high-fiving a security guard outside. Dan then demands we go round the corner so he can relieve himself, handing me his phone and pleading with me to assure Rosie's boyfriend Charlie that she's okay, even though she's very drunk and nowhere to be seen. I assure him anyway, before Rosie rocks up with only one shoe and a random girl's bag. I then have to herd all three of them across the big busy road, shocked and upset that my birthday came to this - me the least drunk out of everyone left, with them the most drunk I've ever seen. I try to get us all a cab as they continuously fall all over the place, shouting and gagging, so I'm left to repeatedly help them up from the pavement and tell them to be quiet in front of equally questionably sane passers-by. I manage to grab a cab, and the driver's visibly annoyed with their loud, drunken behaviour, particularly when Rosie keeps claiming she's going to be sick, when after some momentous roars like something out of The Ring, all that comes out is a load of saliva gobbed over the window. The driver stops the car and chucks tissue in their direction, warning that she'll get kicked out the car if it's not cleared up and she doesn't stop. Conveniently, Rosie stops, and he eventually drops us at Dan's. We arrive and Dan's mum Carol's understandably annoyed as the three of them fall about everywhere attempting to vomit, a random pear getting squashed into the carpet and Dan's glasses breaking in the process. Rosie runs into Dan's bed and pleads with me to protect her from Adam's wandering hands, but he then turns on to an eager Dan. Come 5am, I get the first buses home and crash on to my bed with the birthday existential crisis returning.

    I awake to a variety of missed calls and texts from Rosie, Dan, Adam, and the like, wondering where I am and if I was okay. I remember I'm going to Homegrown later tonight and feel demotivated and lethargic, particularly as I'm going with Dan. I realise I don't actually have to go, but feel I should after saying to people like Chris and Leaphia that I'll see them tonight. As I assure everyone that I'm fine and I understand things like last night happen, I meet Dan on the train for an awkward chat. We arrive at BAC and Gemma joins us in the cafe. We all then check out an alright scratch performance and then go to the workshop, where Chris, Bertie, Craig, Dani, Tara, and Tom are there. It's packed, and led by a guy called Charlie Dark, a DJ, producer, and poet. Charlie wants us to each say something interesting about ourselves, but not the typical “I love theatre”. One of the first to be asked, I instantly say, “I like to party”. “How much do you like to party?” Charlie asks, and I'm not expecting that. In a goofy way, and unintentionally perhaps mockingly, “I like to party a lot!” is what I answer. After that, he just doesn’t drop it about me liking to party and makes me out to be some hardcore druggie raver, all in jest of course.

    He asks us to jot a few things down, beginning with how many people we feel we roughly know. Ever the perfectionist, I'm unsure, before this character of a girl beside me jots down 1,000, so I double it for me with confidence. Charlie then asks us to jot down our favourite ever drink, and I say this cherry punch I had at a student house party in Nottingham almost a year ago, because it was hilarious to see everyone get so drunk over something that just tasted of cherryade. At this, Charlie jokes that I'm a lethal, sadistic person, but this is quashed when he asks us to name a person who means a lot to us, and a memory that will always stick of them. He asks me first and I have to say my mummy, and my memory was when I went from nursery to reception and the daunting experience wasn’t so bad because my mum was there the whole time with all the other parents, and it made me feel protected, safe and secure. He then asks us what our favourite song is, and again asks us to say why. He asks me first again, and I perform What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong, as I’m an eternal optimist and a believer, and it reminds me of early childhood, when I first heard it, which was of course a wonderful world.

I add that when I was auditioning for the VJ Search on the Philippines’ number one music channel MYX, a question on the application form asked what song best described me and why. I put that song down for the reasons I just mentioned. I became one of the twelve finalists out of nearly five hundred auditionees so I obviously gave the song a listen as standard and thought yeah, what a wonderful world indeed. Charlie then basically slates my piece, saying that he wanted a sensual description full of sights, sounds and scents as opposed to me merely talking about a memory. I sarcastically say, “Oh cheers”, undoubtedly yet unintentionally giving him the impression that he’s offended me. He said he didn’t mean to and just wanted to give me constructive criticism so that I’d know what to do in a similar position in the future. I totally understand but I’m not sure if he gets that as he still makes jokey references about me “crying” and being “vexed”. On the contrary, Charlie applauds Chris when he sings Take That's Patience;

Gemma gets a standing ovation when she performs Otis Reddin's Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay;

Dan performs Katy Perry's Firework

and gets joined by Charlie's Dizzee Rascal, belting out Florence + The Machine's You've Got The Dirtee Love.

After the night I had, the birthday I had, I kind of want to leave, as Dan directs Firework at me.

However, Charlie then closes the workshop and gives this incredibly inspiring speech about how my fellow workshop attendees and I are at the age where we should network, look for opportunities in the arts and go for them head on. It touches me because that’s how I’ve certainly been feeling recently. He closes by re-introducing himself and saying his goodbyes, before saying he's gonna speak to Ralph Lauren and comes my way, as I was wearing a Ralph Lauren jumper. Checking out, my brief introduction with the character of a girl next to me is dashed, but I learn that her name goes by Charlotte, as she glares at me. Charlie and I speak, and he immediately apologises as he feels he's offended me, and I assure him he hasn’t and that it's totally cool, I fully understand and I’m grateful for the feedback. He says that it’s because I seem like an interesting character with interesting life experience and that his last speech was for people like me. I'm totally commendable for his speech, telling him it really touched and inspired me and how grateful I am for that and the workshop in general.

After the night before, I'm cheered up big time, making up with Dan and enjoying a great evening with my newfound friends at BAC, with no hard feelings for my old ones whatsoever. In hindsight, my birthday was good. Life's good.

Homegrown, Episode 2, Part 1

2011-10-21T22:03:00.000+01:00

                                                                        Sam

   As Katie Melua once sang, this is the closest thing to crazy I have ever been, feeling twenty-two, acting seventeeeen. Okay, I'll quit the melodramatics, but today, I hit twenty-two. As Heywood Broun once said, the most prolific period of pessimism is at twenty-one, or thereabouts, when the first attempt at translating dreams into reality is made. Okay, I'll quit the quotes too, but the breh has a point (come to think of it, I don't even know if Heywood Broun's a breh or not). I mean, twenty-one is usually the age of graduation, and life for graduates isn't as promising as it might've been before. Jobs, let alone graduate jobs, are hard to come by, arguably moreso if you want to enter the creative, media and arts industries. But hey, I haven't even graduated yet. Technically I should've last year, but I've never been one to conform. I'll let that be my excuse for being behind, as I then wonder, why am I feeling like this?

   I know existential crises are standard on birthdays, you're another year older, you realise how the years are moving by so fast and how the older you get the faster they go, and you may look around and wonder what you've achieved since the last birthday. As a creative, your thirst for success and recognition, or at least just some feeling of accomplishment with your work, can make you feel dehydrated when you're not exactly where you want to be. And even though that makes you more driven, determined, ambitious, committed, hard-working and dedicated in what you do, as a human being, you sometimes, especially at times like this, start to think too much, take yourself too seriously, and begin to forget who you really are. I've never felt like this on any other birthday, but I kind of knew I would today, cos over the past few months I have been feeling a bit wack, and I hope to God it's nothing more than a bit of mild Seasonal Affective Disorder if anything. Perhaps it is just me being stupid, overthinking and indeed being melodramatic (I'm a performer, Dahling) or maybe as an artist I'm just prone to being a tortured soul, Location: Hell.

    I wasn't really going to do anything for my birthday because you couldn't top last year's celebrations, where around a hundred of my friends and family congregated in one place for my surprise 21st birthday party, and made it easily one of the best (if not the best) nights of my life, and also because twenty-two isn't a big age really. As it came nearer, I was thinking of putting it on the weekend after but my friend Chris was celebrating his birthday then (we once did a joint do for our 19ths so I didn't want to do that again). As it wasn't a big one, I thought I'll just do it on the day, which is today, a Wednesday. Understandably, a lot of people have early starts tomorrow, so I've rounded ten people up to go for drinks at the student bar The Kingston Mill, followed by a student night at Oceana, all in Kingston-upon-Thames, our local nightspot. I did want to go to Bacchus, an underground alternative club, but it was a metal night and besides, I did that for mine and Chris's 19th. I made do with a student night at an otherwise chavvy club, which used to be good back in the day but I swear they're letting anyone in after the recession, although I guess more and more chavs are becoming students now seeing as it's that easy these days.

    I arrive with Luke, Adam and Amie, and Dan, Jasmine, Chloe and Gulam are already here. I forgot Chloe was going so that's a pleasant surprise, as is Jasmine, as we'd recently made up after another fall-out and it was nice to see she was making the effort. A mixed bunch, I've always found myself a bit of a misfit in motley crews, but I like it. All of them are character personalities; unique individuals who are lone rangers that rarely follow the crowd - my kind of people. In addition, all of them are closer to me than each other (other than Chloe to Dan, who have hilarious history), so it's sick to see a melting pot of big personalities mixing together. All of them are classic too, so the night was going great. Then Tony arrives, and after him come Rosie and Phoebe. Rosie and Phoebe are best friends that go way back and they kind of come as a unit, and I also know Rosie through Dan, so all of that changed the initial dynamics a bit, but it was all gravy nonetheless. We all had a laugh and as everyone was buying me drinks, I was definitely the most intoxicated there, probably more than everyone else put together.

    We move on to Oceana and Jasmine, Amie, Chloe and Gulam leave as they have early starts tomorrow. We wait in the huge guestlist queue and Adam and I chat to a bunch of Asian girls in which Rosie later claims I snogged one of them which I deny. Once inside I end up on the packed main ballroom dancefloor with Luke, Tony and Adam. I then find myself speaking to three Sloaney Surrey girls in the smoking area and when they tell me they're all there for an eighteenth I'm baffled by how much older they look and make my excuses and leave to avoid telling them I'm there, seemingly alone, for my own twenty-second birthday. I then find I've lost the others, before Nicola, a funny chav I know from college, bumps into me and we catch up over a cigarette. Turns out she Facebooked me happy birthday wishes earlier today and asked where I was celebrating tonight. I then find a clearly drunk Dan hovering about the dancefloor, as if looking for a gay guy in the ghetto. Rosie then appears, clearly inebriated, and then disappears again. Phoebe then shows up and is the only one of the three that is actually coherent and tells me she has to go. I walk her out of the club and make sure she's fine before I try to get sense out of Dan. At that point, I learn that Luke and Tony had to go and for some reason, Adam's outside the club, chatting to anyone and everyone as usual. In the rammed smoking area, Dan's all over the shop, and two Persian boys say something prickish about him and laugh. I grab Dan's arm and ask them what they said. "Nothing mate," they scoff and walk back in. I've sobered up bigtime, and as I stand there in the smoky crowd with a wobbly Dan on my arm, I am quite frankly, pissed off.

Homegrown, Episode 1, Part 2

2011-07-27T21:07:00.008+01:00

Everyone

Sam

When we arrived I immediately recognised it as that grand theatre I thought was both a pleasant surprise and a hidden gem when I saw my cousin Hearns do a show here the summer before. Dan and I stood at the box office and this guy behind the counter asked me if I'd been there before cos he was sure he'd seen me around. I said I briefly visited for a show last year, but he was convinced it was somehow else. I shrugged, I didn't recognise him and I get that a fair bit. I like to think I'm memorable but then friends tease me and tell me I'm generic. Whatever, usually people say it to me and it starts a conversation. He seemed gay, that's all I'm saying. A blonde lady was getting Dan and I to fill in some forms and then spoke to a blond boy who was hovering around her, looking like he was hanging on her every word. Dan looked at him and then looked at me, "Ugh, he seems like a typical, pretentious, public schoolboy drama type." I guess I could see it. "You fancy him," I said to Dan. "I actually don't." He blatantly did, and I knew that we'd get to know this pale, windswept pretty boy, and if Dan didn't fancy him now, he would at some point.

Chris

I can't believe I'm actually here. There's no escape now. I'd been toying with the idea ever since I'd found about it which wasn't long ago, but bloody felt like ages ago. Toying with the idea means touring the cafes of south London just beforehand trying to decide whether to go or not. I'm an artist. I've never acted, but having something else that I could channel my creativity into can't hurt. The art of embarrassment might do though. I just needed something, something different, something new. I've been unemployed for months now, and there's only so much jobhunting and Gilmore Girls you can combine. Plus when you look around and everyone's getting on with their lives, twenty-three suddenly feels so old. On another level, and it's clear that this is notable, I thought this would be good for my self-confidence. It's definitely time. Yes Chris, you're gonna do it. In fact I have done it, I'm here. Only now it doesn't seem like such a bloody good idea. We're sitting in a huge circle and everyone seems so intimidating. We're doing some sort of introduction game with the person next to us and presenting it to the whole group. The first two people seem like such over-active, over-confident, over-enthusiastic drama kids, and now I've gotta do an impression of this guy I just pretended to slap about the place. His name's Sam. Dark hair, hazel green eyes and a swaggering, staggering confidence that doesn't seem impressed with the showy arrogance of the first two people. I hope I don't offend him. What's worse, I hope he doesn't show me up when he does an impression of me. Can the ground swallow me up please?

Gemma

I'm doing a BSc Honours in Business Management at the University of Westminster. I know right, crazy. Why am I here? Well, I've always loved acting. It's taken me across the country, abroad, and hopefully to a long road of success. However, I thought I'd get a degree in my other passion of business though. While doing that, and while I'm in London, I thought I'd keep my love for performing going, so I found out about BAC which is near where I live and came along tonight. I'm from Ruckland, a quiet village in the Midlands, so I might as well make the most of things around here. It's been fun, the people seem alright. This guy Sam seems cool. When we had to check out I left whoever was next to me and walked over to sit next to him cos we'd already just met and I didn't think it mattered. He claimed to of already forgotten my name though. How could he? How could that happen? That's when it began to matter.

Leaphia

Tonight was great. I met some cool new people like Dan and Chris; a tall, dark, slim, skinny-jeans kinda guy, and a guy I recognised from creative writing at uni, Sam, so it was good to see a familiar face. I told them I'd see them all next week. But I won't. Maybe not even the week after that. Who knows when? Ha, the fools. One thing's for sure. They'll never find me in here, my home, the BAC basement. MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARGHARGHURGH *cough* *cough* *cough* *splutter* *cough*!

Craig

So I've just returned to BAC for this Homegrown programme and found out that Dani, Paul, Lemar and even bloody Bertie are all "young producers". Somehow I missed that one. It's cool, it's cool, I'm not mad, I just thought I'd come back cos this programme seems cheap, and it's something to do while I'm out of work on my year out. The workshop was alright. But nah, I'm just gonna sit in the bar afterwards watching the beatboxing and not speak to anyone in a seemingly self-gratifying sulk. Seeya!

Bertie

At the bar I thought I'd go over to speak to the two new pretty boys I saw at the box office earlier because they were blatantly talking about me. The short one's clearly gay, I'm not sure about the other one, but he must be at least bicurious if he's hanging around with him. I find out their names are Dan and Sam and they've just gone to the first Homegrown workshop, thought so. We make smalltalk about the workshop and our interests in the industry, though I don't reveal too much about me to maintain whatever mystery and enigma I can fling together. What it really comes down to though, is whether Sam's gay and Dan's single. No bother, I'll find out sooner or later.

Tara

Oh my god there's a lot of new fit boys at BAC. I've already got a boyfriend from it. His name's Dan. He's my height, small for a guy but just right for me. He's got glasses and brown eyes and light brown hair and he likes me. When we were playing my favourite Musical Statues, he stopped right in front of me on purpose so I didn't keep still, I hugged him and stroked his back cos that's what he wanted cos he loves me. I'm looking forward to next week already, maybe he'll give me his number and kiss me.

Tom

For God's sake Tara.

Dani

Tonight was a success. My new post as Homegrown Tyrant went down a storm. Simone's gonna be so proud. Next stop? WORLD DOMINATION.

Homegrown, Episode 1, Part 1

2011-06-13T22:59:00.006+01:00

Everyone

Dan

I'd been needing to do something like this for ages. It's been months since I left Sheffield, a place where I was living a life I liked; away from home, independent, worlds apart from the drab Middlesex suburbia of roaming chavs and Friday nights in the local Wetherspoon. I graduated with a degree in biomedical science because I wanted to be a doctor. Keyword 'wanted'. I'd been bitten by the acting bug all my life, from when I played the Giant in Jack and the Beanstalk in Year 4, to becoming one of the executives at my university's drama company. Once I graduated, I knew that the stage is where I need to spend my life. Since then, I've just been back at home working casually as a support worker for special needs youth while looking for acting work. I've been unsure about what to do, but I've finally realised professional training is what needs to be done if I want a good agent in this competitive industry. I've had my headshots done, uploaded my details on to casting websites and applied for drama school, but in the meantime, I need something that will make me happy, and that's when I found Homegrown. I was browsing on the Arts Council website as usual when I came across this programme of weekly workshops at Battersea Arts Centre, BAC, a renowned theatre in south London. The programme looked great. It incorporated the likes of writing, performing and producing and had great names well-known in the industry conducting the workshops, such as leading physical theatre companies DV8 and Frantic Assembly. Plus it was a mere £4 for each workshop! I couldn't go wrong and it was an opportunity I couldn't afford to miss. I could escape each week in an environment where I could feel I belonged, surrounded my like-minded creatives and who knows, maybe some theatre opportunities could come from this too, plus BAC's famous in the industry so having this on my CV would be immense. Only thing is, I foolishly told Sam about it in passing, but I'm hoping he's forgotten. The first workshop's tonight and I haven't heard from him. I'm looking at the BAC Homegrown Facebook page now and wondering whether to Like it or not just in case he's online. Oh whatever, I'm Liking it. Done.

Sam

BAC Homegrown? What's that? I clicked on it, and it was that acting thing Dan told me about. 'Old up, the first workshop's tonight! What the hell?! He must be going, but why hasn't he reminded me? Deepazoid. I rang him.

"Hello?"
"You've got a bloody nerve." I usually say that anyway even if he hasn't got a nerve.
"What?"
"You know that acting thing you told me about, the first one's tonight."
"Yeah I know I'm going."
"YOU'VE GOT A BLOODY NERVE!", I shouted, "Thanks for bloody telling me!"
"Well Sam I'm not your bloody agent!"

He really has got a bloody nerve, seriously. But I know what this is all about. For example, back in summer, Dan told me about this audition for a BBC drama so we both sent the casting director our photos and CVs, his CV acting-centric and mine having nothing to do w/ acting, and it was I who got the reply. Dan was obvs scared that I'd steal the thunder, and probs felt I was just edging in for the sake of it, allegedly thinking about myself as usual and not about him even though he's one of my best friends. I understood that he probs wanted to do this alone, to be somewhere totally brand new where he didn't know anyone and no one knew him. I also understood that he'd been feeling low since summer and this was a good move for him. But what about me? Dan can't forget that I've been feeling low these past few months too. I'm a second-year undergraduate studying English & American literature and creative writing, but I'm torn between academia and showbusiness. Most of my friends have graduated and wish they could go back to the ease of uni life. I wish I was already out there. I'm aware that it's incredibly hard to get a good graduate job right now, but ever since I did a VJing stint on the Philippines' number one music channel right before I started university for the second time round, I realised that that was where I want to be, in front of the camera and on the stage. I know how important it is to get an education and I've always wanted one, but I find the work so hard. Whatever, it's the new year and I'm never gonna change my positive thinking. I've always been interested in acting and performing, but until now I've mainly concentrated on writing and broadcasting because journalism's a top career choice for me. However, I feel I've got an alright amount of experience in that field and that I'm at a right age where I'm still in education to explore other possible career routes, so this would be good for me. I would never want to rain on Dan's parade, and I won't, I care about Dan and will do my best in helping and supporting him in what he loves doing, always.

Big Brother Sheffield: Days 2, 3, 4, The Final and What The Housemates Did Next

2011-05-28T19:18:00.018+01:00

The housemates that Big Brother allowed to exit the house in order to buy some of a Chinese takeaway and some of a Lebanese takeaway (they were originally only going to buy Lebanese but Vanessa kicked up a storm, accusing the others, and Big Brother, of racism, and demanded she have her chicken chow mein, despite choosing to remain in the house while the others bought it, only because Sam stayed) return, and they veg out in the attic. Some decide to watch I Love You Phillip Morris, and probably watch it all over again right after as Sam talks all the way through it, probably because his harem of women interrogate him on the bed. It was mainly Vanessa, stalking his online presence and being taken aback by how his infectious personality had been picked up on the world wide web. Roz and Katie and basically all the housemates felt intimidated by Vanessa's dominance in conversation w/ Sam, but it was actually Dan A that was a woman scorned on the edge of the bed, as pictured above.

As night falls, Big Brother gives the housemates some alcohol and games. As some housemates can't hack what becomes their reason for nominating Vanessa anymore, they go downstairs. Roz makes this incredibly clear by already packing her suitcase to leave the house. Dan G claims to feel unwell and retreats to his bedroom, the lounge, sleeping with Charlie, and a spurned Elie returns to the attic and joins in with the other housemates. Even though their boyfriends have decided to sleep together, the expected bond between Elie and Rosie doesn't happen. In fact, it is Elie that is obviously Rosie's first nomination, not Dan G or Charlie, as she claims her loyalty lies with Dan G as some housemates had met before entering the house, during the long application process. The group decide to play Would You Rather? and Bag of Doom. Well, most do, Kyle and Vanessa opt out due to personal reasons, being that they'd rather be playing games with each other. Roz dips in and out of the game, amidst packing her things. Her attempts at getting the housemates to plead with her to stay fail. They in fact make it clear that they'd rather she leave. This leaves Dan A, Elie, Harold, Kyle, Matt, Rosie, Sam and Vanessa in the bed, and understandably, tensions run high. Sexual tension around Sam mostly, as Katie claims he farted in her face. Sam denies this, asking why her face was up his arse in the first place. She insists it went in her mouth. She leaves at 4am, only to go running back to him. It was always going to kick off. Prior to Fartgate, he asked her if her laugh was genuine which it clearly isn't. He also accused her of attention-seeking as she insisted to read a book in the middle of everyone playing a game. It wasn't just Katie that Sam had offended. Kyle kept up the reputation he'd conjured up over the weekend and continued to bore the housemates as well the nation. He was explaining the plot of an obviously boring film and the nation rooted for Sam as he shut Kyle up by burping in his face. Sam then proceeded to talk about The Human Centipede, and biomedical student Dan then couldn't stop thinking about it until the night after, claiming that his knowledge of the human body made him realise it was possible. Honey, Vanessa's a medical student and even then you don't need to be a rocket scientist to realise what goes in your mouth comes out of your bottom in a certain way. It was obvious that night that Dan was disturbed as it was the only night of the three that Sam had been in the house in which Dan hadn't tried it on with him as they slept alone together. The next morning, Harold decided to continue his way up Kyle's arse and expressed his disdain for Sam, as pictured above.

Big Brother allows the housemates to go to Wetherspoon, where it is only Sam and Katie who have kissed and made up as the pictures above show. The cracks begin to show for Dan G and Elie, and Harold and Kyle clearly hadn't gotten over their mutual love-to-hate for Sam from the night before. Roz refused to go to the meal, and was in talks with Big Brother to leave, when the housemates return. Katie finally gets evicted in a triple eviction with Dan G and Elie, and sensationally offers them relationship advice and a threesome once out of the house. Roz gets evicted unnoticed. As a celebratory gift to the remaining housemates, Big Brother allows them to go to the park. What Big Brother doesn't expect is that the housemates perform a seance in the middle of the packed public park, as well as singing Row Row Your Boat at the tops of their lungs, prompting some housemates' evictions to move closer. It's due to Dan stripping down, Matt perving all over him with his camera, and a game of Chinese Whispers turning into an excuse for some housemates, namely Dan, Kyle and Vanessa, to get down and dirty with one another. Clearly Kyle's last-ditch attempt at trying to appear entertaining fails as he and Harold are then evicted. Before he goes, Sam decides to make peace with Kyle but Kyle responds by breaking Big Brother's rules, and cruelly hints at Sam as to who may have nominated him the night before. He numbers people, clearly putting himself, Harold, Katie and Rosie in the firing line. Sam doesn't care, and when Vanessa is evicted, he falls asleep back at the house. This prompts Rosie to realise there's no fun without Sam, and she falls asleep too. The others have no other choice but to retire. Sam's evicted the next morning, followed gradually by the original housemates, Matt, Dan and Charlie respectively. Rosie is crowned the winner of Big Brother Sheffield 2010.

Since leaving the house, there has been so much drama. Sam and Vanessa remain firm friends, and in a reunion later in the summer, original housemate Kate returns for Matt's 21st and is joined by Dan A, Dan G, Katie, Kyle, Matt, Roz and Sam as Katie passes around a blog made by Sam in homage to his fellow housemates, slagging it off and trying to get the others involved, namely Kyle, who eventually turns on Sam at Katie's 23rd where they're joined by Charlie, Dan A, Rosie and Vanessa. They each meet each other separately at different occasions, such as Rosie making guest appearances on Sam and Dan A's new show Homegrown at their birthdays, getting horrifically drunk at Sam's with Dan A, and assisting Dan through an existential crisis at his birthday. All in all, Sheffield was one of the best weekends of 2010, and Big Brother misses it.

Big Brother Sheffield, Day 3

2010-10-05T19:51:00.012+01:00

The housemates spent all night @ a school-disco-themed night @ The University of Sheffield's SU [pictured above], and considering as he is the fucking party and it's a damn tiring job, Sam understandably slept in 'til almost 4pm the next day. He'd been up all day the previous day, travelled all the way up from London, and had to put up w/ the task Big Brother had given him to spice things up in the dull-as-dishwater Big Brother house, as well as having to put up w/ the ensemble of douchebags that were the housemates. As always for him though, the task was a piece of cake, and Sam made the most of it, but boy did the other housemates know it. The rest of the housemates were in the living room, Roz was, as usual in a v obv and contrived way to make out that she's better than the others, making the point of being the only housemate cool and normal enough to be interested in the World Cup, and so the other housemates gathered around the TV, barely watching the football as they didn't know what to do w/ themselves as the life and soul of the party was Sleeping Beauty. Sam. Dan A and Vanessa, Sam's most loyal sheep in the house, feel lost w/o their shepherd, so Vanessa makes Dan play a sombre song on the piano in memory of him as seen below. They, along w/ the rest of the house, rejoice as Sam walks in after needlessly, but clearly, receiving a lot of beauty sleep, and he's in total task mode. Appalled @ the dreadful lack of hospitality from the other housemates, particularly the originals, he sends Dan A to the kitchen to make him a morning brew, and the others copy him like the sheep that they are and make Dan bring in a tray of tea w/ the guarantee that being the comedy act Daniel Ash, he walks through the door and a pale of water falls on to him as he slips on a banana skin, and comes tumbling over, tray n' all. Sam sits on the floor inbetween the sofa and the door, to show the others that he's really that down-to-earth to literally be beneath the already-lowly likes of them.

He overhears Harold, Kyle and Vanessa talking about him @ the table. Well, it's actually Kyle w/ his back to him, asking Vanessa where Sam is. Vanessa answers quite normally. She leaves and Sam takes her seat. Bespectacled, Sam sits there, minding his own business, before Kyle suddenly insults him w/, "I don't think you look good in glasses," or something along those lines. Sam obviously didn't care, he knows he's fantastic w/ or w/o specs, and particularly as it was coming from Kyle of all people. Nevertheless, by randomly, inappropriately and unexpectedly saying that, Kyle's just made Sam's task easier. Sam leaves the lounge to demand food from the house skivvy, Dan A. He finds out that Vanessa, Harold and some of the others rudely, unhygienely and inexplicably picked @ the leftovers of his Chinese takeaway from the night before, and placed it back in the fridge, making it inedible. Vanessa follows Sam into the kitchen all smitten and infatuated, and Sam confronts her about her scrounging. She becomes a woman scorned, and hits back @ him, claiming his chest is malformed. He realises her game and gives her what she wants, the sight of his bare torso and a cop and a feel. Like putty in his hands. Some of the housemates retreat upstairs to Rosie's room and lounge about on the mattresses on the floor. They begin to openly talk about the Big Brother experience, using the toilet as the diary room, yet talking about nominations carefree. As punishment to all of the housemates, Big Brother randomly selects Katie to be evicted. The other housemates show that they're clearly not bothered by this, in fact they rejoice, even joining in w/ Big Brother @ counting down Katie's steps out of the house. She leaves, but Big Brother notices the interesting dynamics developing in the house, mostly since Sam's arrived, and brings Katie back, knowing that she is now the black sheep of Sam's herd, abeit not as black as Kyle. The housemates are devastated, angered and annoyed @ Katie's return, so they play childhood games to lighten their moods, and reluctantly allow her to play. They play Pictionary, Chinese Whispers [nod to Van], Wink Murder and Killer, a game Vanessa made up in the hope that she sits next to Sam.

Katie dives in between them, and she and Vanessa become frenemies. Vanessa then lies about a guy once stroking her hand during the game, and Sam then jokily does it to Katie. Katie then later boasts to Vanessa w/ glee that Sam was lovingly stroking her hand. Vanessa had her first nomination easily sorted. On the other side of Sam was Kyle, another pair of frenemies. Sam joked in front of everyone that Kyle was holding his genitals and not his hand, and did this as a true frenemy. Even though he was jokily mocking Kyle, he was helping him realise the feelings he later revealed to some of the housemates after the left the house, and boy did Kyle feel those feelings under the duvet. On the other hand, literally, Katie wants in on the action, and starts a love/hate relationship w/ Sam, who reluctantly reciprocates but keeps his task in mind. They begin to have harmless banter, a bit like sibling rivalry as their both Reynolds's, although it was incestuous for Katie as Sam just plays along out of pity and boredom, throwing her a bone every now and again. As he continues to win yet another slanging match, she can't take anymore of both having to resist him and getting brutally insulted, the story of her life, so she gets back in her kennel w/ her lamest comeback yet, "You're just... nasty!" Their relationship is summed up in the pictures above.

Big Brother allows some of the housemates to exit the house to buy a Lebanese takeaway. The rest of the housemates remain in Rosie's room. Vanessa pounces on the bed as, you've guessed it, Sam is lying down. She uses any excuse, in this case her medical background, to start touching Sam up again, as pictured above. The perverted Matt gets his usual voyeuristic camera out and starts taking pictures of Vanessa's equally, if not moreso, perverted antics, and there's plenty more in store...

Big Brother Sheffield, Days 1 and 2

2010-07-22T21:53:00.013+01:00

Last month, five girls and seven boys entered the Sheffield Big Brother house. Well actually, five boys and two girls were already there, but it ain't no party 'til Sam arrives, he is and was the fucking party. He's what the mystery S in S Club stands for, it ain't no party like an S Club party. The five boys already there were Charlie, a twenty-two-year-old supervisor from Kingston, south-west London, Dan, a twenty-one-year-old idiot from Ashford, Surrey [both pictured above w/ original housemates Matt, Kate, Roz and Rosie during the Big Brother housewarming], Harold, a twenty-two-year-old coconut from Chelsea, west London, Kyle, another twenty-two-year-old coconut, and Matt, a twenty-year-old council worker from Wales. The two girls were Rosie, the twenty-two-year-old girlfriend of Charlie, and Katie, a twenty-two-year-old douche from God knows where. Charlie, Dan A, Matt and Rosie have lived in the Big Brother house for nine months, enough time for Rosie [or Dan] to have given birth, w/ the housemates being set the task of finding out which of the "men" is the baby's father. Big Brother has tried repeatedly to not only evict all of the housemates, but spice things up [abeit unsuccessfully] w/ tasks such as Come Dine with Me, household chore arguments, and Dan's 21st, although Sam couldn't make it making it good, but not great. Big Brother has already successfully evicted Kate, a twenty-one-year-old politics student from Nottingham, and packed her off to the Netherlands. Big Brother then brought in Harold, Katie and Kyle, to ethnically and sexually diversify the hideously white, straight, male house. Well, you could say it was male-dominated cos Rosie's the only girl alongside Charlie, Dan A and Matt, but patriarchal w/ that lot? Be'ave, especially as bisexual Dan likes to be male-dominated, as does all of the new three [however Kyle only revealed this to some of his fellow housemates once the series ended, or maybe once he had his legs entwined w/ Sam's under a duvet]. Ethnically, Harold's a Filipino, Katie's mixed-race and Kyle's black, but different shaded coconuts all round. The day Big Brother evicted Kate, all of the others were evicted too.

Kyle and Rosie tried to re-enter the house but failed miserably, hiding their suitcases in bushes and heading to a park re-reading Harry Potter [fun times]. Katie was brought in to spice things up, claiming to be a naughty bisexual nurse, but she too, failed miserably. Big Brother then allowed the housemates to drink in a club, to which Rosie admits to of became "insanely drunk by accident". Big Brother hoped this would then spice things up, but, w/ the apparent highlight being Rosie forcing Dan to sit on a box, that too, failed miserably. The next day was really hot and Big Brother hoped this would spice things up, y'know, people showing flesh, heat-induced arguments, etc., but the best they got was Katie, Kyle and Rosie [pictured above evidently enjoying herself] sunbathing in the attic [Kyle and Katie shows you how that works below] listening to the sounds of waves. Exactly.

Big Brother set Dan a task to heat things up further by demanding they go to Bakewell w/ his beloved James. Rosie was visibly unimpressed, but James made her feel bad as he was soon going back to Ireland [why feel bad, if anything that'd make you feel good! Good riddance]. That was the drama. Dan failed the task, although he did state that he looked like a peadophile for eating triangular sandwiches from a lunchbox in shorts @ the back of a bus [pictured below]. Dan, you look like a peadophile's victim. In the Diary Room, Rosie described the day as "I had a banana and strawberry ice-cream, Dan had a bakewell tart one, ew," making the viewers thankful that she isn't editing the highlights shows.

The seemingly attention-deprived Katie [pictured above, showing the house's first blossoming romance] then decided to seek attention by kicking up a storm, claiming she was offended by the racist dolls in shop windows in a backward Bakewell town. No one batted an eyelid. Gay Gok-Wan-wannabe Harold was drafted in by Big Brother that eve to spice things up, but the best they got was Rosie rightly guessing who'd rather be a werewolf or a vampire. Oh [Big] Brother. The next day, Big Brother was hoping to God things would get spiced up by providing the housemates w/ hair dye. Rosie dared to be all random and out there and dyed her hair twice. Oooh get her! Big Brother was about to bomb the house before bringing the final set of housemates in a last-ditch attempt to spice things up once and for all. They are Dan G, a twenty-two-year-old science student from London, Elie, the seventeen-year-old girlfriend of Dan G and the youngest housemate, former housemate Roz, a twenty-one-year-old philosophy student from Leicester, and Sam, a twenty-one-year-old epitome of perfection from Bedfont, south-west London. Immediately Sam walks in w/ a bang as Big Brother rejoices. After Sam asks Katie what she does w/ herself and she replies in sign language involving her mouth and her foot, she then says to him, "So what do you do? I heard you're a model." The relationship begins as they find out they're both Reynolds's, and as Katie reveals her blatantly-added-in-for-attention forenames, Catherine Sinead Mary [do me a favour], they realise they're both mixed-race w/ Irish descent, although Katie's half-black and Sam's half-Filipino, making Kyle and Harold feel inadequate and uninteresting.

Sam continues to spice things up much to Big Brother's delight by swinging Rosie's surprise birthday cake [pictured above] all about her face around Sheffield. Big Brother allows the housemates to buy alcohol to welcome the new arrivals and for Rosie's twenty-second birthday celebrations. A load of half-way housemates arrive claiming to be there for Rosie, who remains upstairs w/ all of the housemates, leaving the half-way housemates reeling downstairs. Drama ensues as Katie dyes her hair in a routine fit of attention-seeking and also to upstage Rosie, who is re-dying her hair as she's threatened by the new arrivals. The last housemate arrives, in the alarmingly-misshaped shape of Vanessa, a twenty-two-year-old banana from Malaysia. Elie, Katie and Sam play Nineties pop, including S Club 7's Bring It All Back. It'll be an S Club party alright, now that Sam's arrived. . .

Some of the half-way housemates twiddle their thumbs as the main housemates have fun.

Vanessa, Harold, Roz, Kyle, Sam, Katie, Dan A, Dan G and Elie celebrating Rosie's 22nd in school disco mode.

MYXin' It Up

2010-07-16T19:14:00.007+01:00

The MYX VJ Search 2010 is on, and even though it hasn't been a year since the last search, it's been the best part of a year which has flown by too. MYX, the Philippines' #1 music channel, from ABS-CBN, Asia's oldest TV station. Growing up, I always watched MYX when I was there. I mean, firstly, it was one of the few predominantly English-speaking Filipino TV channels, so as an English child, it was one of the few channels I tuned into. It was a music channel too, so that was good, as I love music. I also like how the lyrics would display on the screen, something genius for a Filipino music channel, what w/ their videoke-obsessed culture. I even remember when Pop MYX would start w/ a girl chewing pink bubble gum, blowing a huge bubble to which it would then pop, and the MYX logo would appear. When I was working as a radio DJ in Cavite, I planned to perhaps go from DJ to VJ and broaden my broadcast journalism by stopping off @ MYX before I left the country.

It was perfect timing then, that the MYX VJ Search 2009 was under way. I auditioned along w/ nearly five hundred other hopefuls, and became one of the twelve finalists. I only found out in what I thought was the 'final evaluation' in which perhaps, the twelve of us sitting in that boardroom @ the ABS-CBN compound would be whittled down even further through interviews and the like. Overall, I'm a confident person. However, I'm shy in some situations. For instance, I'm confident if we're all in the same boat, but shy if I'm the new kid. Even though we were all in the same boat, I still felt like the new kid. Some of them seemed to already know each other, whether from five minutes before outside, or because they were already in showbiz. I'm also unusual in that a lot foreigners are sheltered from the poverty, the slums, the shanty towns, the real Philippines, whereas I'm v much aware of all of that, in fact growing up and spending a lot of time in the Philippines, I made it my mission to get to know the real Third World, to learn, to open my eyes and open my mind. The foreigners that are sheltered from it are usually working in the upmarket business districts or holidaying in the beachy tourist spots. I stay in Cavite, and if anything, I was sheltered from the well-off, middle-class, educated Manila folk. The whole experience was surreal and overwhelming anyway, let alone for me, when I came across people my age who I never came across in the Philippines before. It was fascinating. You had Andi, an actress from a famous showbiz family of Swiss descent [I initially thought she was completely Caucasian]. Ant, a Filipino-American. Jade, who reminded me of my most fashionable friend Shreeji, because they're both short and stylish. Janine, a commercial model of French descent, who I saw in the auditions. I said there that she'd go through, and she then went on to win it [after I said she would too]. Kevin, an actor. Lana, a Canadian member of a Filipino girlband who is of German descent. Mike, another Fil-Am who I was convinced was mixed too, but isn't. Miki, a singer and actress of German descent. Nel, a singer and dancer of Columbian descent. Sarah, a New Jersey-born singer of Swiss and German descent, and Toff, a guy who looks more Korean than Filipino. I guess feeling like the new kid was also down to the fact I was this British boy in the culturally [other than the Oriental and Latin flavours] half-Americanised, half-out-of-this-world Philippines. I mean, sure it added to the globally hand-picked melting pot of finalists, but I always feel like a foreigner anyway, let alone in the Philippines. Despite being half-Filipino, I look more white, I can't speak Tagalog fluently and when I'm there I always have a relative or family friend w/ me in case I get robbed or something. Still, factors like that only make me more determined to accomplish things like learning fluent Tagalog to progess there both professionally and generally.

So anyway, the dashing, charismatic and slightly scary Sir Andre Allan Alvarez breaks the news to us that we're finalists. I was so happy! But I think one thing that kept me bashful was the big decision I then had. Alas, I voluntarily left early due to education back in the UK. The 'safe' option, I wouldn't have left if my mum wasn't advising me all the way from Italy to leave, not knowing, despite my best efforts of explaining across Eurasia, how big the opportunity was. Mi madre only had my best interests @ heart and I plan to return once I've graduated and have no more commitments in the UK. The experience was amazing though and if you have what it takes, audition!

Obviously I can't really say what I think of the new finalists, because I'm on the other side of the world and have no real means to see what they're like. From what I have seen, however, they seem like a cool bunch. I have great faith that the MYX family chose the worthiest finalists, as the MYX fam are a cool bunch themselves. Judging from their plug shoots and MYX site pros, I'd say Issa gets my vote out of the girls. She probs has the most diverse taste in quality music out of the lot, which I think is v important for a MYX VJ. As for the boys, Ton would get my vote. He also has a great taste in music, and a clear interest in it too, which again couldn't be anymore important. It's actually hard to choose, they all have good qualities about them of course. If ever you wanted a mixed bunch that represented the growing multiculturalism of today's Manila generation, however, last year's batch was it. Apt that I was part of it then, as I'm a misfit who frequently finds myself in motley crews. Even Sir Andre said we were the most mixed bunch they ever had, as we were all different from each other. You know what they say, variety is the spice of life. Me? Biased? Never! Haha.

Korean boybands wouldn't know what hit them if we fronted P-Pop.

Coursework vs Exams

2010-06-07T20:27:00.010+01:00

I always preferred exams to coursework. I think the bulk of that preference comes from experiences where my laziness gets in the way. Yes, I'm lazy. I admit it and shit! Potential employers could come across this. Then again though, I'm being honest and in all honesty, I guess it's a case of that I WAS lazy. We're talking Year 11, in which I decided to make a coffee shop for my GCSE graphic products coursework. Typical of that age, and @ a school where discipline wasn't spectacular, most lessons I'd just sit back and have a laugh, particularly in after-hour lessons where everyone would catch up on their model creations and I would just catch up w/ everyone. Well come on, there was jokes aplenty, you had Luke kicking cones to make it clear he was angry @ Mo, Tom and Shreeji repping freakshows everywhere and Jaaay, galloping in to ogle Mr. Todd. Idk why I chose to do a ruddy coffee shop anyway. Even though it was incredibly easy to make compared to some of the masterpieces other people made, I wish I did a DVD case like aspiring architect Mo [weird choice for him, but that's our MO!], and that way I could channel my creativity w/ film and art, which I prefer to graphic design. It's no surprise then, that I had that opportunity in A-level media studies, where I randomly decided to create promotional products for a Mafia movie. I took photos of best boys Luke, Rhys and Tony donning smart clothes and posing w/ toy guns and planned on editing them for, wait for it, A Sicilian Story. Lucio McLeani, Rhys Wrightio and Tony Pepperoni were great, it was just me. I'm not big on the whole practical side of things, I much prefer to put pen to paper and write a sick blurb and synopsis and that'd be it. Alas, I didn't do that great on the coursework, but I knew I had to redeem myself in the following exams and most certainly did so when I got a few marks off top marks in them. That's why I prefer exams, it's in front of you and you do it, there and then, whereas w/ coursework, it drags.

It would make you wonder why I chose to do a degree which is more coursework than exams. Well, for starters, I didn't realise, and secondly, I'm doing a BA honours in English & American Literature and creative writing. When it comes to coursework, English was the subject where the As would come in, @ both GCSE and A-level. So I thought yeah man, a few essays and I'm done. Only degree level is much harder and after a year out of education, it was v hard for me. However, I soldiered on to my v first exam in around two years, today. I think I now prefer coursework to exams. It makes sense, the fact you do it in your own time, w/ help and assistance from teachers, resources, materials. We've studied some great stuff over the course of my first year in romanticism though. I've always been really interested w/ the uncanny. Y'know, things like déjà vu, doppelgängers and death drives. From a v young age I've always somewhat seen everything as anthropomorphic, and wondered if other people do so too. It could be anything, from the letters on this blog, to objects and landscapes. Animism is another one, I went through a short period when I was really young in which I thought my Furby might come alive, cos I bought it @ the around the same time I first watched Child's Play and it was an innovative, technologically-forward toy. Then there's the universal fears of being buried alive and death, as well as the general awesomeness of languages. I also just love the phrase, 'oooh it's uncanny!' as well ha. Then there's the concept of twins, heck, look @ Tony and I! Maybe more before though. And how about transsexual, transgendered and intersexed people. My Filipino heritage means I spend a lot of time in the Philippines, where like Thailand, ladyboys are everywhere. Usually I'm good @ distinguishing them from women, but the time I actually got to know a couple, I genuinely thought one was a girl.

No, it wasn't in a close shave circumstance. I was working as a radio DJ and people could visit me in the studio. I was on air and a lady was in the other room @ the window. I invited her to sit in and we just chatted. I was like, 'Have you met my brother?' she then said, 'Yeah, in the toilet.' Confused, I joked, 'What were you doing in the gents eh eh eh?' to which she giggled and said, 'What d'you think I am? A girl or a boy?' Oh. 'Would you like a coffee?' I asked, before I got to know why she was the way she is. It was an interesting, touching and enlightening explanation though, which helped me to understand people like herself. On top of the uncanny, we studied the sublime. I've always been a fan of that too, this idea of something being incredibly great, intensely overwhelming and potentially bad. We also covered the Shelleys, Percy and Mary. Two legends who are my kind of people tbh. Crazy, beautiful idealists w/ free thought, open minds and a mentality different from the rest of society, the fact they're both literary geniuses is an inspiration to many. So today's exam should've gone well right? Hmmm, I hope my blag-a-thon did it, we'll see.

If any potential employers are still reading and still taken aback by my admittance that I can, like the next person, be lazy, I prefer the term, laid-back. My previous and current employers might call me lazy, but I work in retail while I'm studying, and knowing me, they know I need stimulating and exciting things to do, which is why I plan to do a job I enjoy when I graduate. I find my current job and the one before boring. That may show, but obv not that much as my previous employer invited me back to work. Despite some of my envious colleagues calling me idle, it was probs the fact I'm actually nice to the customers, which is more than what can be said for some of them. Weigh it up, mofos.

You don't wanna mess w/ them. Grrr.

Glastonbury Festival 2009

2009-07-11T00:26:00.009+01:00

Last year's Reading Festival and Bestival made me want to try out two festivals I hadn't yet been to this year, and I wanted to go to Glastonbury Festival of Contemporary Performing Arts, and Festival Internacional de Benicàssim, otherwise known as FIB, or just Benicassim in Benicasim, Spain. I put this out there to my fellow festivalhead friends, after our fun times as a wonderfully diverse dozen [we're such a motley crew it's brilliant] at RDN, and as a hillair half-dozen at Bestival. After an initial enthusiasm from the others, I registered for Glasto and urged them to the same. As the first batch of tix came out a month after the colourful Bestival was in full swing, the earliest ever, the apathy of the others became apparent. It seemed the smart registration system that Glastonbury Festival uses to avoid ticket tout nonsense had made the others lazy and lethargic, on top of how soon the first batch came around, so it clearly made them think they had loads of time to pull their finger out. That, plus the fact that last year's ticket sales hadn't sold out as quick as previous years, possibly due to the unusual choice of headliners including Kings of Leon [who, funnily enough, have now become headliner material for many major festivals, including the likes of RDN, after Glastonbury had arguably made them mainstream, you know they're commercial when Capital FM have them on repeat] and Jay-Z.

I mentioned it to my oldest friend Lisa, who isn't a usually a festivalhead but clearly v open-minded, as she told me she'd already registered which was a pleasant surprise. When the tix came out, we bought a couple, and I urged the others to do the same. Now I don't wanna make it out as I told ya so, but out of the three, Glasto is def the one I want to go to again. Of course I wouldn't say no to RDN or Bestival again, but in a word, Glasto is just awesome! At around £13 more than RDN, it's so much more worth it, considering there's so much more to. Even Bestival has more to do than the scene and overrated RDN. I had a lot of fun at RDN, but it was def one of those who-you're-with than where-you're-at scenarios. Of course RDN is quite jokes anyway, but other than the live music, a Guitar Hero, silent disco and a funfair is about as far as it goes in terms of things to do. Glasto, on the other hand, is so action-packed and fun-filled it's amazing, regardless if there's two or twelve of you. When it ended up just being the two of us, it didn't matter once we got there.

It's just so random, unconventional and creative, a temporary tented city in the middle of nowhere, that appears to be the size of Sunbury and with more people than the city of Norwich. Friendly, hippy vibes are everywhere and there's hardly any deathly moshpits in comparison to RDN, which seems to be filled with more young people than the all ages at Glasto. The many vast fields echo the charitable feel of the festival, and the amount of things to do just can't be done in five days - a day more than RDN, Bestival and most other festivals. Spending the early hours of each morning in the mind-bending Shangri-La, Trash City and Arcadia is just literally out of this world, it's as if you're on another planet. The retro-futuristic theme in these fields this year was enormously enjoyable, whether we were dancing in a giant pinball machine, or raving in a packed igloo paved with screens displaying funky graphics. The circus, cabaret and theatre fields were fantastic too. The Green Fields, Field of Avalon and The Park were also very surreal, and you could just go mad all night in the Dance Village, in its various tents including the legendary silent discos. It's all just so fantastical, wherever you end up. The sights, sounds and smells make it such a sensual experience.

That's not even mentioning the huge range of music from across the globe the fest is famous for. We camped inbetween the Dance Village and the Other Stage, so we'd frequently be passing an array of stages whilst getting from one to another. We did, however, stay and watch Gabriella Cilmi, The Rumble Strips, Regina Spektor, The Maccabees, N*E*R*D, Fleet Foxes, Lily Allen, Lady GaGa, Jamie T, Neil Young, Animal Collective, VV Brown, Metric, Jason Mraz, Spinal Tap [including guest on bass Jarvis Cocker], Dizzee Rascal, Paolo Nutini, Kasabian, Bruce Springsteen, Franz Ferdinand, Vagabond, Brand New, Tom Jones, Madness, Roots Manuva, Amadou et Mariam and The Black Eyed Peas, from what I can remember, and that's no way near everyone I wanted to see. Allegedly, the celeb count this year was pretty low, but I'd like to know what it's like when it's high, as I had quite random encounters such as Paolo Nutini walking over me inbetween Spinal Tap and Dizzee, Reggie Yates squeezing past me whilst raving, two members of Goldie Lookin' Chain drinking while I was being served in the Dance Village bar and Pete Bennett from Big Brother walking alongside me before we caught him randomly appearing in one of the circus acts. Of course, the news about Michael Jackson initially made everyone subdued, until a lot of the acts honoured him with tributes, and his choons were played inbetween sets and at various bars and tents. It also became a conversation starter, and the initial community bond grew stronger, what with all of us being at The Michael Jackson Glasto. In addition to this, we experienced some of the best Glasto weather ever, as despite some photogenic thunder and lightening storms creating some trademark mud, it remained hot, sunny and dry. According to numerous publications such as The Independent, Q and The Guardian, as well as the BBC, this was one of the best Glastos ever, described as having the same feel as some of the earlier shin-digs in bygone eras such as the early Eighties, and I'm glad to of been a part of that. Oh and, with one last comparison to the other fests, at RDN and Bestival, you could only drink your own booze in your campsites, at Glasto, you could bring it bloody anywhere! Rock on indeed.

Michael Jackson, August 29 1958 - June 25 2009

2009-07-06T18:07:00.005+01:00

It was at the amazing Glastonbury Festival 2009 that I'd learnt about the death of one of music's most influential living legends. If the environment and atmosphere of the world's biggest festival wasn't mind-bending enough, particularly walking through the random Snake Pit in the crazy Shangri-La at midnight on Thursday and into the witching hour of Friday morning, intoxicated as well, then people passing by shouting out 'Michael Jackson's dead!' would just add to the already surreal experience. I didn't believe it. Festivalheads tend to start rumours while festivaling as we've all become this commune cut off from the rest of society for a weekend, or in this case, a week, so no one knows what's really going on. Last year's Reading Festival rumour was that Bruce Forsyth had died, yet then he went Strictly Come Dancing. As soon as MJ had allegedly died, Margaret Thatcher, Bruce Springsteen and John Peel had all snuffed it as well. Then again, Maggie was still alive and kicking, The Boss headlined on Saturday night as planned and John Peel was already dead, hence one of Glasto's stages being named after him. It was only when what started as a rumour, had spread like wildfire across the many vast fields of a festival with more people than the city of Norwich, that the initial indignance and disbelief had turned to wonder and anticipation. Was Jacko really dead?

Alas, it was true. And, like many other people at Glastonbury, and millions across the globe, I was shocked, saddened and subdued. No celebrity death has shook the world this much since that of Princess Diana almost twelve years ago. No celebrity death has ever made me feel like this, I didn't think any could or would and I can't think of any other celebrity that might have the same affect. Jackson was an icon, and it was so unexpected and tragic for him to go at fifty years young. His career had started @ the age of five, and his album Thriller is still the biggest-selling album of all time. It is of course, along with his other albums and singles, going to definitely sell more now. Labelled the Most Successful Entertainer of All-Time by The Guiness Book of Records, he was the star of the multi-million dollar Jackson family, an all-singing, all-dancing dynasty of talent. His father, Joseph Jackson, is still producing music at nearly eighty and was at the forefront of Motown, while Michael and his four older brothers, Jackie, Tito, Jermaine and Marlon formed the infamous Jackson 5. The oldest of the six boys and three girls, Rebbie, followed their mother, Katherine, into the religion of Jehovah's Witnesses. All nine of them, including La Toya, Randy and Janet, were born and brought up in the faith, as was I.

So why am I, this British Eurasian twenty-year-old affected so much by his death? Perhaps because, I can relate to how it must have been growing up as an unbaptised publisher with the JWs? No. Michael Jackson touched the lives of millions, he was an inspiration to many, including numerous musicians of all genres. He was inexplicably talented, a gifted singer, songwriter and dancer [moonwalk, anyone?] amongst many other things [I mean, everything that made things such as his music videos just superb was clearly down to Michael, whatever it was], and he was one of a kind. He appealed to people wherever they were in the world, of every race, age and culture. The superstar, with which music and pop culture as we know it today would not be the same if he didn't exist. Of course, however, fame came at a price. Michael never had a childhood, constantly in the public eye, not knowing any different, and whatever childhood he did have was abused by his father. Due to this and the pressures of celebrity, it was clear Michael had obviously contracted some form of BDD, otherwise known as Body Dysmorphic Disorder. His mental health had clearly detoriated when it seemed his plastic surgeon was taking the piss out of him. Around the time of Thriller, I think Michael looked his best. After what was suggested to be just one rhinoplasty surgery done at the time, he went from a cute little boy to a hot young man. And then, he went from a black man to a white woman, although I fully believe he had the skin condition vitiligo contrary to contrasting speculation that he bleached his skin. Even after his skin had lightened, he was still hot and hypnotically charismatic on stage. Then, it literally looked as if he went too far.

Soon after this, Michael was accused of being a peadophile, and paid off a family over $22 million after it was alleged that he had a sexual relationship with 13-year-old Jordie Chandler. He maintained that he did nothing wrong, but justified his reasons for paying such a large amount by stating that he just wanted it to be over. It wasn't the last time some money-grabbing parents saw an opportunity to fleece the megastar. In 2003, the Martin Bashir documentary Living with Michael Jackson showed footage of Michael holding hands with 13-year-old Gavin Arvizo, and admitting to sleeping with boys, though not in the sexual way. This inevitably sparked global controversy, and before you know it, Arvizo's family are accusing Michael of all sorts. All charges were dropped however due to lack of evidence. So what's the deal exactly? According to many accounts not only from the 'accusers' and their siblings [surprise, surprise], but of Jackson's staff too, Michael was showing these half-naked, prepubescent boys pornography, giving them 'Jesus Juice' [wine, Babe] and sleeping in the same bed as them. But what do we know? What do they know? Will anyone actually know? See, I don't actually think he was a peadophile. The fact he had such an unconventional and quite an alarming upbringing might just explain his mentality. He might have been obsessed with children because he never really had a childhood of his own. It could of been his way of escaping, or catching up on something he never had, or just an opportunity to be himself. According to what few friends he had, he had a very childlike, playful persona, and this was displayed on Bashir's interview. To be honest, he seemed like my kind of person. I watched the documentary again when I retuned from Glasto, to remind myself of what he was really like. He just seemed like such a nice guy, a humble, down-to-earth man, who, despite the vast fame and the vast fortune was so loving, kind and caring towards others. He was so quirky, so crazy, such a free-spirited individual who was young at heart. It also seemed like he was a victim, a lost soul caught amidst the troubles, trials and tribulations the rollercoaster ride he knew as life threw at him, and I felt sad and sorry. He needed help, and, in a way, I'm kind of glad he went on a high, with his what would have been his upcoming comeback tour. I'm also glad that, he doesn't have to endure any more shit that people threw at him, just for being him. How Bashir was so negatively biased and critical of Michael throughout the documentary was an example of this, and I urge anyone to watch it, to also see what kind of person he was, delightfully funny, eccentric and damn right cool! Michael wanted to help the world, but he was helpless himself.

What's refreshing though, is that it was merely just him being him that's making many grieve right now. We're all remembering the Michael who captured the hearts of many as the little boy with a big voice, the young man with the creativity, charm and moves that would make him the legend he has become. No one has had a life quite like his, in fifty action-packed years. JFK, John Lennon, Elvis and Diana have all shook the world with their ways of going, and perhaps Michael is the last person of his and this generation to have the ability of gathering this much attention with his premature death. In terms of icons, powerful people, I can think of few, such as Madonna or Obama, who could have a similar affect, but to be honest, no one is like Michael, he is just unique, a fantastical, dreamer of a guy that gave so much, and just wanted something in return, perhaps acceptance, or normality. I just can't see how people, especially my generation, could not be affected by this. He was something that was part of growing up, part of your life, part of life. I was born in 1989, and my brother and sister were die-hard fans. Everytime I think back to those days, I remember a striking poster on my brother's bedroom wall of Michael performing Black or White at the 1991 MTV VMAs. I subsequently won awards for dancing like Michael, when I was three. I wish I still could. I wish he still could. He's become part of the fabric of dance, of music, of life.

I have his Number Ones album on repeat [which, ironically and predictably, is back at Number One in the charts], the posters back on the wall, the Thriller, Off the Wall, Bad, Dangerous, and other records out, whether they're on vinyl or tape that my family bought before I was born, and Moonwalker and the footage of his memorial on Sky+. I haven't watched it yet, and I haven't cried yet, but I have a feeling I might just do that. I'm glad I was at Glastonbury when I lived through history, or HIstory, pardon the pun, because I'd rather of been at The Michael Jackson Glasto than at work, where everyone would be talking about it perhaps in a less whimsical way that we at Glasto were about it, in totally Jacko vein. I miss you Michael, we miss you Michael, but you will live on forever though your power, influence and music! :'(

Nouvelle Vague

2008-12-31T01:41:00.006Z

After seeing the brilliant Simple Plan at the quaint Forum in Kentish Town, a few days later I caught the fantastic Nouvelle Vague there. According to their MySpace page, they class themselves as 'Other/New Wave/Lounge', genres that do sum them up. They famously cover songs from the new wave era, their overall genre would be quite vague (pardon the pun), and lounge suits them perfectly, as would chillout and even soul. In my opinion, with their instrumentals, soft vocals and energetic dancing, I would simply call them a French folk band, a brilliant one at that.

So it was my first gig since I caught the wonderful Vanessa Carlton at Shepherd's Bush Empire nearly six years ago in which the venue was full of twentysomething Londoners speaking a multiple of languages and English in an array of accents. Shreeji and I were possibly the youngest giggers there. After catching N*E*R*D at the Roundhouse in Camden Town, one stop on the Northern Line after Kentish Town, followed by Simple Plan, I made sure I got there just after the doors had opened at the latest, after around a year since I'd been to gigs at other London venues (it's that time of year folks, festival season's over!). Shreeji was running equally late, and I forgot my camera, so, with it being the last in a somewhat long list of gigs for a while, it seemed like we wouldn't make it in time and even if we did, we'd have no pics or vids. Luckily, we made it, and there obviously no queue, which is a plus really, and, Shreeji had her cam! In we went.

The place filled up pretty fast, and an acoustic support act opened the show nicely. Shortly after, the band entered to ruptuous applause, and immediately showcased their talents on the instruments. These gifted men are underrated and don't get the recognition they deserve due to being members of what some would call 'the backing band', but they are an important part of Nouvelle Vague, helping to create what seems like a theatrical production every time a new song starts. At first, with the lead female vocalists speaking to the audience in French, I wondered if they would be interactive with the crowd and if they'd go down well. Alas, they revealed their great linguistic abilities and dropped the mystery, enigma and their inhibitions, when they interacted with the crowd superbly, even to the point where one of the singers climbed into the audience and walked on through, still singing, embracing various delighted members of the crowd.

The band did provide many surprises but that was undoubtedly the most unexpected. The same singer proved how fun and enthusiastic she was by performing amazing solo dances, to instrumental sets of drums and percussion. The other girls were equally talented, but decided to focus more on their awesome vocal abilities. They performed many of their hits, including Blondie's Heart of Glass, Buzzcocks' Ever Fallen in Love? and Billy Idol's Dancing with Myself, probably the best version pipping the likes of Blink-182 and The Donnas. I was disappointed that they didn't play my favourite song of their's, and in my opinion, one of their biggest hits, In a Manner of Speaking, but because the rest of the show was such a spectacular in terms of both visuals and music, it didn't matter. The whole band reunited at the end to bow, like they do in theatre and not just any gig, and as I looked around, the venue had totally filled up, both upstairs and downstairs, and as far as I could see, their were crowds of people applauding this unique and exciting group of individuals. Brilliant.

Simple Plan

2008-12-01T01:07:00.010Z

I first discovered Simple Plan four years ago, when their single, Perfect, was endlessly played in the Philippines, where I was staying at the time. The song was officially released the year before, the fourth and final single of their first album, No Pads, No Helmets... Just Balls, which was released the year before that. I eventually bought both that album and their follow-up album, Still Not Getting Any..., in 2004, when the latter was released. It was around this time that the emo fad was beginning to take place, and the pop punk sounds of this French-Canadian fivesome, together with their arguably emo songs, Untitled (How Could This Happen to Me?), Welcome to My Life and Perfect, didn't alter the emergence and progression of the contemporary subculture. Different to legendary pop punk bands such as The Jam and Buzzcocks due to their uniquely British sound, I would most definitely list Simple Plan as one of my favourite North American pop punk bands alongside genre legends such as Green Day, Blink-182 and The Offspring.

On Saturday night, I finally caught them at the Forum in Kentish Town. It was their final date on their second European Tour this year, and they made a point of that frequently between songs. After thinking that N*E*R*D were one of the most interative bands I've seen, Simple Plan are probably the one to beat. Despite not enjoying extensive mainstream success, particularly in the UK, their popularity has grown rapidly in the past few years, and that was evident when the queue outside was incredibly long, with a higher-than-expected number of ticket touts hovering up and down. They were supported by two fellow pop punk bands, Missing District and Saving Amy, who were good but nothing spectacular. Eventually Simple Plan finally came on and it was indeed worth the wait. They ended their tour in style as they interacted with the crowd superbly, cracking jokes, carrying out conversations and giving out bottles of water, towels and guitar picks, which certainly got the crowd going.

They performed all of their hits, including I'm Just a Kid, Shut Up, I'd Do Anything, and Jump, along with some of my personal faves Addicted, Welcome to My Life, Untitled (How Could This Happen to Me?) and their final performace, Perfect. I was disappointed they didn't play my other faves such as Perfect World, Everytime and Thank You, but they did pull off an impressive set making it one of the most fulfilling and action-packed gigs I've been to. The crowd certainly agreed, making a moshpit and obviously jumping to the likes of Jump, with many fans claiming it was their best show yet. Among the long list of songs they were determined to include included a medley combining recent chart hits of contrasting genres such as Flo-Rida and T-Pain's hip-hop smash Low and Katy Perry's pop rock hit I Kissed a Girl, which went down a treat with the audience.

All in all, after receiving my tickets nearly two months prior, it was definitely worth waiting. I would most certainly list them as one of the best bands I've seen, and it was one of the best gigs I've been to. I truly believe that they're a breath of fresh air within a genre in which so many bands sound the same. I'm glad they're achieving more recognition, especially in this country, because they do deserve it as they're too underrated. I think that their songs can be interpreted into however the listener wants it, sub-consciously even. For instance, Untitled (How Could This Happen to Me?), remains my favourite song when I'm feeling low, as it hits the nail on the head for me, despite the fact it's actually a song about how a single death can negatively affect the lives of many. I find that many of their songs can allow people to relate to them in their own ways, such as Thank You, Perfect World, Welcome to My Life and indeed, Perfect. It's ironic that this band who aren't necessarily emo, accurately describes how many teens feel at some point, with their emo tune, Welcome to My Life. Damn, I'm so emo haha!

NER*D

2008-11-14T17:19:00.014Z

On Tuesday, three diverse friends and I went to see the Neptunes, or in this case, No-one Ever Really Dies aka N*E*R*D, at the über cool Roundhouse in cool Camden Town. I say diverse, as you had my friend Shreeji, a coconut British Indian who's dabbled in grunge, emo and indie subcultures, my friend Luke, who's nickname the King o' Crunk says it all, and my friend Aoife, who's musical taste reflects nights out in small 'nightclubs' full of loud lager louts living for the weekend. The variety within us summed up the variety of people who listen to N*E*R*D, as at first glance, one could mistake this three-piece ensemble to be an alternative hip-hop group at least, yet the addition of their instruments could turn them into an alternative rock band. 'Alternative' is an imperative word when describing the genre of these three talented individuals, as their music seems to be a complex fusion of alternative, rock, funk, hip-hop, indie, soul, R&B, blues and arguably a wide range of other genres.

Doors opened at 7pm and we arrived just after, to a long, disheartening queue which subsequently moved quickly, and once in, we headed straight to the stage which predictably had a crowd built up. Sipping on expensive Strongbow, we had later intentions of habitual moshing to the front, as a young, attractive female DJ came on to cheers and started spinning some tracks. The mixing wasn't great and after an initial warm-up of the crowd, two hours later, patience was running thin. She was eventually cut off and contrasted cheers then set off to that. N*E*R*D finally arrived on stage much to the crowd's obvious delight, with a big live band in tow but suspiciously, as much as I could see, without Chad Hugo, which I was disappointed about. Alas, frontman Pharrell Williams was clearly on board and disappointed neither me nor the rest of the crowd.

When they came on, I assumed maybe the crowd would react as standard and my natural instinct to move forward would be contagious. It didn't seem like it was happening, and I accepted that my reaction was too engraved in my place at indie rock gigs and festivals, and that their reaction is what to expect when at a hip-hop gig, from my previous experience with artists such as 50 Cent, Fabolous and Lloyd Banks. I just assumed an N*E*R*D crowd would be different, as after all, their genre of music is a crossover of other genres, but alas, the crowd was filled more of the scary, angry hip-hopper type whom you really wouldn't wanna mosh into with a blatant attempt at a better view of the stage. I stopped feeling puzzled and slightly detached when Pharrell clearly agreed. In his numerous conversations with the crowd inbetween songs, he constructively criticised them in a pally way by questioning the lack of movement and encouraged them to get movin'. They raptuously responded, when the reminder of the fact that they were technically out of their comfort zone and at a rock concert came through when classics like Lapdance, She Wants to Move and Rock Star were played, with the brilliant tempo of the Jason Nevins remix thrown in too, as well as a sample of the fantastic Seven Nation Army beat from the White Stripes.

One crowd-surf and no moshpit later, Pharrell and the boys did a good job of trying their best in interacting with the crowd, but clearly with a high proportion of nubile Innit Innits who daren't tarnish their non-existent gangsta status by showing a slight movement at music, it didn't meet the group's expectations. There was one couple sweating in their winter jackets at an attempt to look effortlessly cool but they looked effortlessly stupid, coming to a gig and remaining entirelessly motionless, until recent hit Everyone Nose (All the Girls Standing in the Line for the Bathroom) came on and the girl clearly felt it was her cue to quit looking like a girl standing in the line for the bathroom and actually move instead, and boy did she, as if She Wants to Move was dedicated to her beforehand. The boys took matters into their own hands and pulled up lucky members of the audience on stage and although the band wasn't on for long, they sure were worth the wait, providing a loud, live musical feast from a creative, original and unique group within a crossover genre of try-hards and copycats. Spot on.

dan le sac vs Scroobius Pip

2008-11-01T18:34:00.011Z

After just arriving from Barcelona on A-level results day this year and being too tired to celebrate, I missed dan le sac vs Scroobius Pip's headline show at New Slang, the indie and alternative weekly club night at the otherwise undesirable haunt of McCluskey's, a riverside nightclub in Kingston-upon-Thames, south-west London. In addition, I missed them at Reading Festival a week later to see the unarguably much better Rage Against The Machine. A fortnight after that I thought I'd finally see them at Bestival, but the festival's ill-preparation to the awful weather that plagued the country that weekend meant the line-up was altered and alas, I missed the Essex-based musical duo once again. However, as a friend is a student at the University of Hertfordshire, I eventually caught them at the Font, the university's student union, on Thursday evening.

My suspicions that the majority of the university were into neither indie nor live music were confimed when the venue was virtually empty, with the majority of ticket-holders seemingly older outsiders, wondering whether their £10 ticket was going to be worth it. The emptiness allowed the unusually cold Hallowe'en weather, which gave London its first October dusting of snow since the earlier part of the 20th century, make the venue freezing, and together with the announcement that flash photography and filming were disallowed, the twosome, who, according to their MySpace page, list their music as a fusion of hip-hop, electronica and indie, had to please the crowd.

Kid Carpet started to do just that when he opened the set with his unusual electro. His jokes, quirky lyrics and obvious references to his strange choice of instruments (in this case and perhaps all of his cases, a Casio keyboard and Fisher-Price guitar) made him seem more like a stand-up comedian but it did make the crowd feel warmer in the wintry draft as he encouraged them to near the stage and therefore encourage him to prepare for his succeeding act. le sac and Pip emerged and played a few hits, with strangely, curiously and depressingly more than one on the theme of self-harm and suicide, before on that note, requesting the small crowd to get moving so everyone could continue to gain warmth. It happened, with a mini moshpit formed, a sight I didn't think would occur for either the University of Hertfordshire or dan le sac vs Scroobius Pip.

Fixed, a parody of UK hip-hop which samples Dizzee Rascal's Fix Up, Look Sharp is definitely a crowd-pleaser but more probably so because of its original artist's infectious beat, rather than the spoken word which had a twang of envy flowing through, while my favourite song of their's, Thou Shalt Always Kill, is their biggest hit with fantastic one-liners and brilliant melodies, and had their moshers going for it on the night. Definitely an original couple, with notable work and a creative streak, they certainly left the crowd happy and in my opinion, they were good live and it was a good night. I just don't think they were worth the three-month wait, but perhaps that's merely because my expectations were left brewing too high.