Not A Fish

I used to hate swimming. At primary school it was every Wednesday morning.
I disliked having to get up half an hour earlier to catch the coach to the
pool, feeling travel sick there and back, and then spending the rest of the
day feeling somewhat moist in the underwear region.

To begin with it wasn't too bad as non-swimmers were in the nice warm
kiddies pool which was in its own room, and hence unsupervised as the
teacher was by the main pool barking orders at those who could swim. When a
bit older, I had to go into the shallow end of the big pool with the other
older non-swimmers, splashing around with my legs while clutching a
polystyrene float. Not much fun, but then again I didn't want to be in the
deep end being made to go up and down, or jumping in wearing pyjamas. I
hated pyjamas, and the thought of having to appear in public wearing them
put me off learning to swim. I'll just stay here with my float, splash
around a bit and look forward to vigourously toweling myself down before
raiding the vending machines for some chocolate and fizzy drink.

I then got my first pair of goggles. Suddenly a whole new world opened up,
a world of legs wiggling underwater, tiled surfaces and drain holes. I
propelled myself around with waggling arms and legs. One day while showing
my Dad my new found skill of underwater movement, I surfaced faster than I
expected and found myself heaving my way across the surface. What's this? I
could swim! Somewhat splashily and ungainly, but I was getting around
unaided. My Dad suggested trying to swim across the width of the pool, so I
set off splashing my way towards the other side. I made it, and was
surprised to see one of the lifeguards applauding me on the side. He then
gave me a swimming badge, one of those thin stripes with the word
"SWIMMING" sown into it. I had seen others with lots of them sown onto
their trunks in different colours, but now I had my own, in white, for
swimming one width. Oooh, cross channel swim here I come!

The trouble was, If I now could swim, I would have to go into the deep end
and face the discipline of going up and down to order, and the potential of
those pyjamas. Noooo!!! So I kept quiet about my new found skill at school
and stayed in my comfort zone with my float. Nice floaty.

After primary school there was no more school swimming and I didn't swim
for many years. Around the age of 30, .T. took me to Droitwich Lido a
couple of times which was rather alarming. I found that although I could
still swim around a bit, I found it hard to stay afloat. My belly wanted to
meet the bottom of the lido and my legs had hidden stores of lead.

More years passed and due to the need to stay fit, Downham Market Leisure
Centre found .T. and I puffing and panting our way around the gym. .T.
started to pop off to the pool for a few lengths and last Autumn persuaded
me to join her for a dip. It was hard work! Swimming needs different
muscles to anything else, and my swimming muscles had long since retired,
put their feet up and were looking forward to watching repeats of "Last Of
The Summer Wine". I also didn't like the look of that deep-end. There is
something rather disquieting about putting your feet down and finding
nothing there. But perseverance pays off and over the next few months I
have developed a crude but working version of the breaststroke and a
splashy but reasonable crawl and can sometimes do the 25m length in 25
seconds. Coo, that's about 2.24 miles per hour! OK, so I have to catch my
breath for a minute afterwards, but it is about half Olympic speed (and
they wear skin-tight lycra - cheats!)
Now I just have to get my breathing right (remember: air good, water bad).
I keep breathing out in time with my strokes and after a while realise that
breathing in might be useful. I also find my sinuses get well rinsed out by
the occasional tsunami zipping up my nostrils.

Yesterday we went for a dip and found that the pool was warmer than usual.
Whether this was a bank holiday treat or those refugees from King's Lynn
pool needed mollycoddling I'm not sure. But it sure kept the cramp at bay
for an hour. Now my confidence has increased I enjoy swimming to the bottom
of the deep end and traveling along the base of the pool for as far as
possible. A handy technique in case I get chased by aliens through flooded
tunnels: provided I'm not wearing pyjamas.

Foritensum

I've always been a bit of a puzzle fan, so IQ tests are usually fun things to do. The hardest and most intriguing IQ test I have come across is Foritensum, which attempts to make the test "culture fair". In other words "an alien from a different planet should have the same chance to score well as someone raised and living in the western world."
I've solved several of the problems, but some are still making me ponder.

Password

One of the biggest problems I have with changing my password is I have a brain like a goldfish. I remembered that I changed it, and that I changed it to something that I wouldn't forget, but I still took a worried 5 minutes staring at the blogger login form before it popped into my head.

I've also forgotten that great post that I had in my head just before falling asleep last night.

Meanwhile, you know how some larger ladies wear dresses like tents ....

Strange Fruit (& Veg)

<Start seductive voiceover and Santana music> This isn't just a blog post, this is the finest blog post made from my memories of the weirdest Norfolk folk and carefully stolen images from google image search . . . .
</enough of that!>

While in Marks & Spencer on Saturday, I found my way somewhat blocked by four old people standing in the fruit and veg section. I sneaked past them to grab some greens and noticed that they were standing in a line, not speaking, and staring very intently at the vegetables. I then went to get some choccy cake, bread and wine (good diet!) and a few minutes later went back down the fruit and veg, past the same four people still staring at the vegetables. One of them finally spoke: "There aren't enough vegetables here, let's go to the farm shop instead."

Had I stumbled upon the British entry in the International Fruit & Vegetable Staring Contest having a training session? Are they now in a farm shop staring some poor carrots and pears into submission? Or is this just a popular pastime in Norfolk?

Anyway - I asked some fruit and veg for their comments.

 

Lovely pea picture found here

Kate Bush - Aerial

Blimey! It takes me nearly as long to get off my backside and write this review as it took Kate to bother getting off her backside and make this album. After the emotional but often musically lackluster The Red Shoes album way back in 1993, Kate took time off to do her own thing, including starting a family. She briefly popped into the studio in 1996 to knock the single King of The Mountain into shape, but nothing further happened for many more years.
Having long since given up any expectation of seeing another Kate Bush album, I was somewhat surprised back in the summer of 2005, when it was announced that a new album was soon to be on its way. As such there was no lengthy period of "it is coming eventually" as with previous albums, leading to expectations running high. I was just very happy to have new Kate material. And hey! there are two CDs of material in a very nice package! Well, very slightly over 80 minutes of material which could have been squeezed onto one CD if somebody did a bit of editing. Having two CDs does mean you can choose whether to listen to the assorted odds and ends CD or the "birdie" concept CD, or just take a handy loo break half-way through.

The first CD "A Sea Of Honey" is the odds and sods half. A mixture of the great and the plodding. The single King of The Mountain was the first song to be heard and the first on the album, and it really doesn't do that much for me. It is as cleverly done as most Kate songs, and came with a typically batty Kate video, but the slurred vocals and lack of oomph failed to please. Yes, I know that the slurring is her impersonation of Elvis Presley, but it does irritate almost as much as that bloody big fade out at the end. You'd have thought that between 1996 and 2005 she could come up with a decent ending. Anyway we are on to more interesting territory with the second track π (pi), a song not about the number itself, but a man obsessed with the calculation of pi. It has often been mentioned in Kate Fan Circles that Kate could sing the telephone directory and it would still sound good, and here Kate goes for around 100 digits of pi. Trouble is, I still find a lack of involvement. There is no great hook, no amazing music, even Kate's vocals aren't that special. It sure is intriguing, not least due to the missing 22 digits and the few digits emphasized by backing vocals. Could this be Da Katie Code?
Things start to pick up with the delightful Renaissance-esque Bertie, a song about her son. Given the subject matter, it could so easily have been yucky, but the interesting choice of music combined with not-too-specific lyrics means it easily escapes the "pass the paper bag" hell of most odes to children.
Even better is Mrs. Bartolozzi, with just Kate at her piano it takes me back to her early material. Here though her maturity shines through a great set of lyrics. Never quite describing precisely what is going on, you get the impression of a great loss, precious memories and a life of willing domestic drudgery which is all Mrs. Bartolozzi has left to get her through each day. If you thought this was just a song about a washing machine than think again.
Unfortunately after that we have to get through the rather dull and plodding How to Be Invisible, a song that sounds like Kate, looks like Kate but for some reason doesn't dance like Kate. The lyrics seem to gently mock the more obsessive fan and her own apparent attempt to hide from view (according to the media). It never really gets going, staying on one level throughout. Luckily the song about a soldier's view of Joan Of Arc, Joanni shows that her talent for poppy hooks hasn't deserted her, this being one of two songs that could have been released as singles instead of King of The Mountain. The lyrics don't really say much and it's far from the best song of her career, but it is fun.
The final piece on the first disk is stunning. A song of memories and loss. Again just piano and vocals, A Coral Room is an emotional piece dealing with Kate's loss of her mother and how time can soften the pain. It made me cry, and still does sometimes. In fact it is difficult to listen to at times, but always worth the effort. Apparently Kate almost left this beautiful track off the album, luckily she didn't.

So the first CD is a mixed bag, but no more so than the last two albums. A quick trip to the loo (see, I said it was useful) and then on to the next CD, "A Sky Of Honey".

Basically this is a continuous concept piece covering most of a day (afternoon through to the following dawn) with a lot of birds thrown in. It is quite faux-classical sounding at times, and manages to sustain a beauty for most of the first half. It begins with a short but charming introduction (Prelude) with Bertie as "The Sun" watching and wondering about the birds. We then go straight into Prologue, a most lovely piece with Eberhard Weber's strange bass noise underpinning light touches of piano and string and Kate's gorgeous vocals. When something works as well as this, I can forgive the rather intrusive drums at the end. Next Rolf Harris as "The Painter" murmurs about his painting and leads us into the rather retro sounding An Architect's Dream, reminding me of Delius from her album Never For Ever and featuring that fretless bass sound that critics like to deride. You'd have thought by now that people might have worked out that Kate does her own thing, and doesn't follow the current fashion in music. If she thinks it is what a track needs she will use it, even if everyone else thought it died out in the 1980s. More orchestral strings play through the short linking piece The Painter's Link which takes us into Sunset. From the start Kate sings "Could be honeycomb" in a way that makes me melt. If I haven't already succumbed then it is about now that I feel that well of tears build up, that odd feeling in the belly, that lump in the throat. Absolutely marvelous! Sunset starts off with a somewhat laid-back jazzy feel, similar to pieces from Jane Siberry's Maria album, before bringing in the flamenco guitar and ending with a joyful carnival of sound. Ok I do have a few niggles about the over-repeated lyrics, but so far this is one of the best recordings of Kate's career.

Aerial Tal, as cute as it is with Kate singing along with a blackbird does break the flow of this disc (and it is where the vinyl version splits "A Sky Of Honey" in two). I do think that this short piece could have been developed further, or used just before the final piece Aerial which starts with a similar flow. It is around now that things take a downward turn, with Somewhere In Between coming across as not really a Bush track at all. Her voice sounds odd to me, the percussion rather bland, and the whole affair just plods by. It is a shame as the lyrics are great and there is a decent tune in there, but the end result is boring, especially coming after all that good stuff. Nocturn starts off sounding as if it is trying to get things back on track, with an eerie keyboard sound and Kate giving some good vocal. Then, it is back to a bloody boring backing beat. Nothing much happens for the next few minutes but gradually more and more layers are built up and that backing beat gets buried. Hurrah! The track finally starts to impress, hits a climax and goes plop into the electronic wibble that starts the final track Aerial. Hurrah! Almost unexpected, this disco booming bouncy track ends the album on a high note. Kate laughs along with the birds celebrating a new dawn and we go into a guitar wankfest with Kate singing unintelligibly. This is fabulous! I usually replay this track I love it so much. You'll find better guitar work elsewhere, better Kate singing, better bouncy beats, but who cares. This is one kick-your-arse-and-make-you-dance-on-the-rooftops type track. Yey!

Overall a damn good album, if you cut out the few bad bits and you like your pop supplied with emotional clout. Not her best (see The Dreaming) but still well worthy of entering her back catalogue.

So there we are. Kate came back, popped her head over her parapet and dropped this album on our heads before disappearing into whatever media-based fantasy land we think she lives in. So goodbye Kate and thank you for this one last album.

Or is it......

RIP Cassettes

Could this be the end of cassette tapes? I used to spend many a happy hour compiling my own compilation tapes to send to people and was always pleased to get one. Even better was when someone created their own cover. I have a pile of tapes, no longer played and gathering dust in a cupboard, but having a clatter through them I found several compilations from others that I ought to give another listen to. Check out those groovy covers (the one with the dog is actually covered in furry felt).

Next - the end of CD compilations, as I now exchange MP3s on small cards.

Plug me in!

Kid's stuff

As a child I spent many a happy hour making things out of lego. Castles, cars, trains, spaceships, all out of those little coloured plastic bricks. However I never thought of doing anything like this version of Escher's Relativity. Yep, people make the strangest things out of lego.

When I was older I got into Origami and made many a flapping bird and many other animals. Nowadays it has become part of spaceship design and people have developed it to make
extremely complex models, like this dragon with folded scales. (Although the site is in Japanese, it is easy to navigate. Check out the insects!)

The Wire

Every now and then, I treat myself to a copy of The Wire, a magazine that covers a more interesting type of music to the usual. I used to get Q magazine but it started to go downhill about 10 years ago. (I even wrote a diatribe around then about how bad it was getting on their online message board, only to find the whole board had been cleared due to "technical problems" a few hours later.) I gave up completely a few years ago as every issue seemed to have a list along the lines of the "top 50 albums by artists that our noses are stuck up the backsides of".

Now where was I. Oh yes, The Wire. I popped into the new Fopp again and found a copy of Sun Ra's "Space Is The Place" (yey! weirdo jazz-jam jollyness!) and then spotted a familiar gurning face by the counter. What's this? Mark E. Smith collaborating with Mouse On Mars? And a freebie CD stuck on the cover? Yes please! So with a copy of Mojo's second best weirdest record ("The Top 50 Records That Will Fry Your Brain") and The Wire under my arm, I went home a happy Boolbar.

The freebie CD is great, and unlike many a giveaway magazine CD I've had before, it is very consistent. The lesser tracks are at least interesting: the odd sound collage does give the effect of biting on sunshine melted Kit-Kats with bits of foil left stuck in the chocolate that find your fillings. (Now there is one good thing about modern packaged Kit-Kats.) Overall the tracks are kept short and snappy, there is plenty of variety, and a nice bit of Throbbing Gristle thrown in. Lovely. As for the Mark. E. Smith / Mouse on Mars "Von Südenfed" track, well it sounds a bit "I've heard stuff like this before" at first. Almost a damp squib, but one that is then heated up in the oven to dry it off, before being put in your pocket along with several matches and some sandpaper. Nice.

As for the Sun Ra, I've been meaning to get this for a while as apart from the aforementioned Mojo list (I have half of the top 20 albums on that list, and they are all great albums), two of my favourite albums of recent times namecheck Sun Ra and this album: Blur's 13 (I seem to be in a minority of one for thinking that 13 is Blur's best album by far) and Primal Scream's XTRMNTR. The title track is a groovy workout with several things happening at once for the majority of the piece, and sounds similar at times to Captain Beefheart's wonderful Mirror Man sessions. At times the album sounds like it is getting into swing territory, at other times an unholy racket, but it is at least fascinating and at best it is an invigorating mind blast.

Hopefully Fopp will continue to supply a decent range of albums, and not end up just providing the mainstream like so many record shops do.