Wow.
The Kraken Wakes saw its small gig area get a sonic barrage of music, courtesy of a great start by Watashi Calcutechs, a band only possibly summed up as a hybrid of Biffy Clyro and the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Performing just for the third time and for only four songs, the trio still managed to get a small yet appreciative crowd going, warming up the ice cold place with some heavy, machine gun paced rock.
Next up, another trio, but definitely with a whole other beat were Sheffield-based Shake Alletti, known for the Toddla T remix of their song ’Hold Me Down’. Catchy songs such as their new and infectious single ‘Dancefloor’, you’ll be hearing a lot of this song in places quite soon.
Last, but definitely by no means least were the brilliant and upcoming stars Fenech-Soler, who tonight brought the house down. Suddenly, the crowd at the Kraken Wakes shook off the cold and turned the heat up as they blasted into ‘Battlefields’, a new personal favourite of mine.
Kicking through a set with great pace and nearly playing a whole album, including the singles ‘Lies’, and the upcoming ‘Demons’, they ended with a spectacular performance of ‘Stop and Stare’. One band which no doubt you‘ll hear at various festivals and on radios this year. Watch out Friendly Fires, Fenech-Soler surely are the new contenders for electropop’s throne.
Tuesday 30 November 2010
Monday 29 November 2010
That old thing you used to do, you know, smile?
Happiness isn't an illusion.
She just makes me smile with a thought, a mere glimpse of her smile gets me happier than anything before. I know the way she kisses and touches, well, it's more than just a quick thing. She holds me tight, as if nothing else matters but this moment. She's breathing harder than usual, because she knows what day it is. It's only a few more hours before she sets off, and she just wants to hold on for a little more before getting back in the car and driving to the other side of the water.
I sit in the car anxiously, with a sense I'll see her again, but to leave now it would feel so right. To not have those strings attatched, to realise that things are not permanent but as temporary as the way the wind blows. She tells me not to tell anyone, and I promise her, with everything that I won't, and she believes me. ":) x x" she texts. I reply likewise, and lock my phone. She's worth any time to wait for a text.
I'm realising now on the way back home, that I won't see her for a long time. And yeah, that things will happen in between the next time I meet her, and I know that she'll mature and realise what a waste of space I truly am. But still, sitting here under the stars, the cold and the flickering business lights, I know that the old saying "Good things come to those who wait" is a true statement, and whoever came up with it was a genius.
She just makes me smile with a thought, a mere glimpse of her smile gets me happier than anything before. I know the way she kisses and touches, well, it's more than just a quick thing. She holds me tight, as if nothing else matters but this moment. She's breathing harder than usual, because she knows what day it is. It's only a few more hours before she sets off, and she just wants to hold on for a little more before getting back in the car and driving to the other side of the water.
I sit in the car anxiously, with a sense I'll see her again, but to leave now it would feel so right. To not have those strings attatched, to realise that things are not permanent but as temporary as the way the wind blows. She tells me not to tell anyone, and I promise her, with everything that I won't, and she believes me. ":) x x" she texts. I reply likewise, and lock my phone. She's worth any time to wait for a text.
I'm realising now on the way back home, that I won't see her for a long time. And yeah, that things will happen in between the next time I meet her, and I know that she'll mature and realise what a waste of space I truly am. But still, sitting here under the stars, the cold and the flickering business lights, I know that the old saying "Good things come to those who wait" is a true statement, and whoever came up with it was a genius.
My Muse
A heart collapsed in a sea of pain
never to be heard or seen again
now I have these never ending dreams
the water's always much deeper than it seems
I feel the everything in my life has just slipped away
no matter how much you try, you can't buy back yesterday
for once I wish I could just see past the illustrious lies
replace them with something better and someone undisguised
I could scream about the false mask you hide behind
keep on replaying events which never were, in my mind
you're such a beautiful muse to me with all that misery
can't describe how much time I've used to write your litanies
I don't have a single emotion for you nowadays
it's strange not to have to rely on your pathetic ways
because for some odd reason, people actually like me
they see me for me and they don't have a sordid mental history
Oh, how I truly used to adore you,
now frankly my dear, I abhor you
sorry if I managed to bore, I must admit you're so easy to ignore
you to me, are as irritating and frustrating as a cold sore
Honing my skill at throwing vicious words your way
I found out that the secret is not to what you say
but how to use words like you use all these men
and make sure they're pure venom then
never to be heard or seen again
now I have these never ending dreams
the water's always much deeper than it seems
I feel the everything in my life has just slipped away
no matter how much you try, you can't buy back yesterday
for once I wish I could just see past the illustrious lies
replace them with something better and someone undisguised
I could scream about the false mask you hide behind
keep on replaying events which never were, in my mind
you're such a beautiful muse to me with all that misery
can't describe how much time I've used to write your litanies
I don't have a single emotion for you nowadays
it's strange not to have to rely on your pathetic ways
because for some odd reason, people actually like me
they see me for me and they don't have a sordid mental history
Oh, how I truly used to adore you,
now frankly my dear, I abhor you
sorry if I managed to bore, I must admit you're so easy to ignore
you to me, are as irritating and frustrating as a cold sore
Honing my skill at throwing vicious words your way
I found out that the secret is not to what you say
but how to use words like you use all these men
and make sure they're pure venom then
Tuesday 23 November 2010
...
Every week in, week out, I find myself once again opening up my heart to another person who I think I can trust, someone I can care for, someone I can listen to and be able to talk to as well. And at the end of every week, something happens.
The something that happens is I scare them away. Or at least that's what I think it is, I seem to have a knack of self sabotage. It's a number of things probably. I just seem to have this skill of cocking up a perfectly good situation, and then expecting to find out some horrible thing which caused it not involving me! But every end of the week, it is me who messes it up.
I'd never say it's entirely my fault, I'd never say that the way I act or speak has anything to do with it, I mean I'm not terrible in bed, I don't hit women or for that matter hit on women, I act polite, not gentlemanlike, subtle, not blunt, but still, it's not enough I reckon.
Some people I know are just too messed up or consider themselves to be in the midst of a situation with an ex where they've corrupted their minds so much they can't accept there's a decent bloke out there, who is fluent in the language called English, and actually not too weird. They want change, but are afraid to accept it, so therefore stick to the same old 'bad boy' formula, trying to change them but inevitably failing.
I happen to be honest about it, I know at times it's hard for the right words to come out, but the gestures I make are nice, they're not dickheaded like some. Some would say this is just a rant or a whine at his pathetic attempts of love in life, but no, it's actually a self evaluative outlook on things.
When looking back at my relationships, I've noticed one pattern. No matter what, I love to see people with bleeding hearts, with hearts of hurt and emotion, because I've always been and will always try to be a sympathetic and emotive man. I don't give a damn if that in your opinion's pathetic, but still I respect your opinion.
No, I'm sure that near everyone I've shown a glimpse of emotion I've connected with because they too suffer the situations. I was in love, once, but that was a hell of a long time ago. Now, I've matured enough to see that the word is irrelevant at 19. What would be nice though, is if people were less worried about showing emotion.
Any, just show me something. Happiness, depression (but not too much, ok?) anxiety, joy, euphoria, pain, guilt, lust, anything. Along the way, I'll also try to too. But please, just consider this. It's not the wisest of ideas of playing around with heads and hearts, mine included. I promise I'll try not to do the same.
The something that happens is I scare them away. Or at least that's what I think it is, I seem to have a knack of self sabotage. It's a number of things probably. I just seem to have this skill of cocking up a perfectly good situation, and then expecting to find out some horrible thing which caused it not involving me! But every end of the week, it is me who messes it up.
I'd never say it's entirely my fault, I'd never say that the way I act or speak has anything to do with it, I mean I'm not terrible in bed, I don't hit women or for that matter hit on women, I act polite, not gentlemanlike, subtle, not blunt, but still, it's not enough I reckon.
Some people I know are just too messed up or consider themselves to be in the midst of a situation with an ex where they've corrupted their minds so much they can't accept there's a decent bloke out there, who is fluent in the language called English, and actually not too weird. They want change, but are afraid to accept it, so therefore stick to the same old 'bad boy' formula, trying to change them but inevitably failing.
I happen to be honest about it, I know at times it's hard for the right words to come out, but the gestures I make are nice, they're not dickheaded like some. Some would say this is just a rant or a whine at his pathetic attempts of love in life, but no, it's actually a self evaluative outlook on things.
When looking back at my relationships, I've noticed one pattern. No matter what, I love to see people with bleeding hearts, with hearts of hurt and emotion, because I've always been and will always try to be a sympathetic and emotive man. I don't give a damn if that in your opinion's pathetic, but still I respect your opinion.
No, I'm sure that near everyone I've shown a glimpse of emotion I've connected with because they too suffer the situations. I was in love, once, but that was a hell of a long time ago. Now, I've matured enough to see that the word is irrelevant at 19. What would be nice though, is if people were less worried about showing emotion.
Any, just show me something. Happiness, depression (but not too much, ok?) anxiety, joy, euphoria, pain, guilt, lust, anything. Along the way, I'll also try to too. But please, just consider this. It's not the wisest of ideas of playing around with heads and hearts, mine included. I promise I'll try not to do the same.
Thursday 18 November 2010
Sonnets
It's not as easy as it seems,
to play foolish games with a heart,
so let yourselves go and fall apart,
and run away go chase your dreams,
days become nights whilst you open your eyes,
the choices we make and actions we take,
can always be coincidence or fate,
once your wishes now become white lies,
some say just pure human mistake,
but ask yourself if love is all,
before you start to fall stare at the drop,
then remember never to stop,
just realise you're here and now,
before you start to disappear somehow.
to play foolish games with a heart,
so let yourselves go and fall apart,
and run away go chase your dreams,
days become nights whilst you open your eyes,
the choices we make and actions we take,
can always be coincidence or fate,
once your wishes now become white lies,
some say just pure human mistake,
but ask yourself if love is all,
before you start to fall stare at the drop,
then remember never to stop,
just realise you're here and now,
before you start to disappear somehow.
Wednesday 17 November 2010
Portsmouth week 7?
I've found it harder to blog. Why, I don't know. My creative muscles are getting tense again, and that isn't good at all. I've got deadlines coming, I've got to get physically and mentally back in the game, and somehow find the perfect day to get smashed, then spend the rest of the week sober.
Wow, time's managed to run away again. Seems like it's only been a few drunken nights, a lot of unlucky and retarded events occurred and definitely not enough sleep. But all in all, here's a brief account of the previous week: Work, work, work, creative messy social beyond the point of ridiculous, stupid broken heart, then broken phone, Nando’s, recovery, Jack Daniels, fall down the spiral, Half-Life 2, curiosity, then rebirth via Domino's Pizza and a kiss.
Now it's Wednesday, I don't know what to say except that for every reaction and equal and opposite reaction occurs. My example: Play the nice guy and some Touch-Cup with a bunch of Geography students, find the psycho girl of the group and get verbally and physically abused for zero reason. Buy a new phone, get wasted and break the new phone.
I am my own worst enemy, and my greatest muse it seems.
Wow, time's managed to run away again. Seems like it's only been a few drunken nights, a lot of unlucky and retarded events occurred and definitely not enough sleep. But all in all, here's a brief account of the previous week: Work, work, work, creative messy social beyond the point of ridiculous, stupid broken heart, then broken phone, Nando’s, recovery, Jack Daniels, fall down the spiral, Half-Life 2, curiosity, then rebirth via Domino's Pizza and a kiss.
Now it's Wednesday, I don't know what to say except that for every reaction and equal and opposite reaction occurs. My example: Play the nice guy and some Touch-Cup with a bunch of Geography students, find the psycho girl of the group and get verbally and physically abused for zero reason. Buy a new phone, get wasted and break the new phone.
I am my own worst enemy, and my greatest muse it seems.
A Lost Saturday in Portsmouth, thoughts of occurrence and travel...
As I traipsed around the corridors of another bleak yet neon-lit bar, I wonder how I came to be here at this stage. 19, not yet a man yet certainly past the stage of young child, now living in an entirely different city, speaking another language to some doe-eyed girl already gone past the stage of comatose.
A cold wintered scene, I shovel my tattered shoes across the slush and mire, and fall drunkenly to my next direction. Now, the toilet bowl seems a void where I can escape for some moments and get my thoughts all rightly aligned. Ok. Eject, reject and then repeat process.
Back to the noise, that ever-penetrating phallic throb, which pounds through the sides of walls and into the cubicle where me and my stomach once were located, and I find myself back on top. Now, sounds all burst as I pry open the doors. Then, at the exact same moment of the drop, I position myself into the centre of the dance floor and let go.
It seems so euphoric and equally terrifying to see such an array of sound and movement connect as I totally get enveloped in the midst of it. Music seems killer serene to my dilated eyes. I can't believe the unity of all. The high I feel is as if an electric charge punched its way into my cerebellum and ejaculated pure adrenaline everywhere on my lobes.
A cold wintered scene, I shovel my tattered shoes across the slush and mire, and fall drunkenly to my next direction. Now, the toilet bowl seems a void where I can escape for some moments and get my thoughts all rightly aligned. Ok. Eject, reject and then repeat process.
Back to the noise, that ever-penetrating phallic throb, which pounds through the sides of walls and into the cubicle where me and my stomach once were located, and I find myself back on top. Now, sounds all burst as I pry open the doors. Then, at the exact same moment of the drop, I position myself into the centre of the dance floor and let go.
It seems so euphoric and equally terrifying to see such an array of sound and movement connect as I totally get enveloped in the midst of it. Music seems killer serene to my dilated eyes. I can't believe the unity of all. The high I feel is as if an electric charge punched its way into my cerebellum and ejaculated pure adrenaline everywhere on my lobes.
The surge remains at its peak, I remain on the ceiling and somehow find reality via a game of coat grabbing and a brisk walk into the nearest bar, where my compatriot and I seem to find time and space stand still for us. A major warning, I need some form of numbing, not time to wake up. We take more delicious drugs, ease off this scare and return to a loosened sense.
Now is not a reality. When is. We both get onto the streets flawlessly and attract many attentive eyes that converse and subjugate us in modes of intense knowledge of the city which I know nothing of. We say nothing yet somehow telekinetically acknowledge these people need to relax and find their own way back.
I envision myself sitting on a pavement returning back to my vague form of structure. The bed awaits, and my home, begging for a second chance, allows me safe passage minus run-ins with blood-thirsty police or any machete wielding avengers of the morning. I feel at one, and at the same time, completely and utterly destroyed. It's good to be away from the world.
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