Invaders

Every August, they come here, with their haircuts, their overpriced beer and their 'culture'.

Most of the year, Edinburgh's the sort of peaceful city where lazy misanthropes like myself can merrily wander the streets without fear of jostling from hideous 'other people' whilst still enjoying the benefits of city life. Basically, I can go and buy Kettle Chips at midnight whilst avoiding the sweaty masses. Ace.

For one month, though, literally millions of hideous, yelping humans flock here to 'see stuff', booze themselves silly and GET IN MY WAY. All of a sudden Arthur's Seat is crowded with human cattle, pubs swarm with idiots in pork-pie hats and every square centimetre of indoor space is turned into a 'venue'. I took one of my shoes off to scratch my foot in the street the other day and when I tried to put my foot back in a troupe of lycra'd dwarves were performing an interpretive dance about the Iraq war in it.

And these people are some of the worst sort known to man: 'Creative' types. Now, don't get me wrong, there's any number of great performers, artists, etc who've enriched mankind no end. The problem is, they're followed around by a bunch of unimaginative gobshites who swan about the place pretending to have a reason to live. You can spot them wondering around town wearing some wacky headgear and a pair of plastic 'Elvis' shades handing out forests of paper to promote their awful show. They should all be rolled up in a giant newspaper and fired into the centre of the sun. With these folk about it's like living in London, only without the ethnic diversity or decent public transport.

There are, however, some decent comedians on and fireworks every night. When I get me that Taser I ordered it could almost be quite a fun place to be!

What Were the Skies Like When You Were Young?

They were fucking ace.

The Pentland hills are a mere 20 minutes of uphill sweating on a bikefrom work, and once there it's a veritable playground for mountain bikers. Never-ending uphills, super-fast downhills, a few wee jumps, midges - the lot! It makes me feel pretty lucky when I'm sitting eating my post-work snacks on the grassy hillside gazing idly at the reservoir reflecting the early evening sky. Much better than going to the gym or something.

Start Again

Whooooeeeee. Well, everyone else seems to be blogging like crazy, so I guess it'd be rude for me not to resurrect my own little corner of the internet.

So I thought I'd start a clean slate and explain who I am and what this blog will contain.

This is me:

I write this blog from my room high up in a tower above the beautiful city of Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland. It's an amazing city to be in, and I will no doubt yammer on about it ceaselessly in posts to come.

I make a living working in a chemistry lab, where I mostly take bits of goo and put them through horrible chemical ordeals in order to make sure the people in the adjacent factory are doing their job properly so that we don't poison anyone (the goo gets used in medical applications). I have the usual complaints that many folk have for their jobs: monotony, poor management, crap holidays. On the up-side, I love the cycle commute and the job's pretty undemanding, plus I can smugly approach it in a thoroughly half-arsed fashion smug in the knowledge that I have no intention of keeping a career there.

I started this blog so that I could show off all the big words I know and also have the odd rant. So what can you expect to read about here?

Well, I love the outdoors, particularly climbing (rock, ice, whatever) and cycling (on or off road). Much of my free time gets spent travelling to what I can only describe as big grown-up playgrounds where I can indulge in some mild derring-do. It's all actually a lot less dangerous than it sounds and a lot more fun than it should be, and I get to see some truly amazing things that you just don't get to see unless you go a bit off-piste. Like this:



I also listen to music endlessly. My tastes are fairly broad, but I have no time for bad music, or worse, mediocrity. Be warned that I may loose all sense of proportion when praising/damning some music, but then what's music for if not to get passionate about?

To that end, I will end this post with a short playlist of what's been rocking my hungover Sunday:

Mogwai - My Father My King
Sufjan Stevens - Sister
Malcolm Middleton - Fight Like the Night
Nelly Furtado - Maneater
Simian Mobile Disco - Sleep Deprivation
Caribou - Melody Day (Four Tet Remix)
Daft Punk - Da Funk
Fujiya & Miyagi - Transparent Things
CSS - Music is My Hot, Hot Sex
Prodigy - Charly
Idlewild - In Remote Part/Scottish Fiction

Yeeeahhh Bwoyeeeee

My it's been quiet on here of late hasn't it?

To make up for that, as promised, I proudly present to you the second part of my mixtape/podcast/whatever: Son of Red.

I personally guarantee that it will have you air-drumming and booty shaking till you can drum/shake no more.

All you need to do is do the right-click/save as thing on this link, then enjoy to your heart's content. The track list will appear in the comment box for some reason that escapes me.

ENJOY!

Feast Your Ears

Evening all.

I can just tell by the way that you're reding this that you're getting bored of your record collection. You've heard it all six million times, and you certainly can't be arsed with the squealing gibbons that present the radio.

Fear not, for the internet can save you.

Yes indeed. I have painstakingly collected a bunch of wonderful tunes together for your Aural pleasure. Call it a podcast if you will, but that implies that I did something other than choose some good songs and put them in a pleasing order.

It's called 'Son of Blue' as its the sequel to a compliation I did a couple of years ago along the same theme. It's one part of two, the other part being the 'Red' side which will appear on here in due course. The 'blue' side is the quieter, more introspective part, the tracklisting for which can be seen in the comments box.

Right Click here and do the Save As thing, then enjoy enjoy enjoy.

Thanks to Del for the hosting.

A Quote

Comedian, TV Presenter, novelist and genuine National Treasure Stephen Fry on the ongoing tension between protestants and catholics:

"Religion: Shit it."

Wise.

These Things

Straight from my brain to your eyes (except with computers and internets and stuff in between), yet another list of ponderations:

- Today I dissolved some eye goo in acid and then set fire to it. They pay me money to do this. I like my new job.

- Scotland beat The Best Football Team In The World® at the weekend, and the supporters and press didn't go on about it as if it was the shattering of a new epoch. English sport media (and supporters) have a lot to learn from their wise Caledonian brethren.

- Someone asked me if that new slide thing at the Tate Modern is really art, or if it's just a slide. I say if it's in an art gallery and some pseud wants to fawn over it then it's art. Either that or the Tate Modern's trying to muscle in on some of Alton Towers' action.

- I am so tired of Co-op filled pasta but it's just so damn easy.

- I want to find the peple responsible for Radio 1's daytime playlist and kick them in the kidneys until they piss blood. If I hear James Morrison or The bastardbastardbastard Feeling once more I may become unstable. ALthough they can play that Jamie T song a bit more. And Hot Chip. Oh, alright, they can stay, but I'm not making them a cup of tea or anything.

- There's yet another podcast over on Delrico Bandito. It will make your ears quite literally catch fire with joy.

- It's way too warm for October. Quite a lot of the trees are stil lgreen and it's just plain wrong. I bet slugs and badgers and that are going mental with it all.

- Waitrose isn't as expensive as I expected.

- I can't find non- aerosol deodorant anywhere. If you know of a cunning source then let me know and I will award you with a shiny new donkey.

That is all. Time for bedsleeps. Goodnightithtihtihtittttt!

I'm Feeling Lucky

I've finally given up and poured my whole online soul into Google's servers. As well as having a Gmail account, a Blogger account and using their fine search engines, I've now signed up for Picasa photo hosting too. You can see a link to it over on the right. Arent these internets clever wee gadgets?

I've also updated some other links over there too. If you have a photo site, blog or whatever then leave a comment and I might even get round to adding a link for you. How nice.

Also, some amusing and/or interesting things have happened recently and I have opinions about their implications.

A Smile Around the Face

Man, my CDs are in a total mess. I've just been looking for my copy of The Soft Bulletin by the Flaming Lips (one of the greatest albums evereverver), and after a solid 20 minutes looking I'm still no closer to hearing those opening strings (or synths or whatever) of Race for the Prize. I reckon I might have to wait until the invention of the quantum computer before I'll be able to bring order to the realm that my music collection now occupies.

On the bright side, such lengthy searches always unearth a forgotten nugget of brilliance that has sat dormant for years. I found my copy of Four Tet's Glasshead single hiding next to some unsavoury looking compilation CDs. Hooray for me!

If you've never heard Glasshead then you should do your utmost to seek it out NOW. For me personally it was a bit of an epiphany. Back when I was a mere 18 years old I bought it pretty much on a whim and started an unending love affair with off-kilter electronica. I'm desperately trying to hink of how to describe the track but without diagrams, hand-signals and perhaps even dancing I'm not sure I could do it justice. It's over 11 minutes long and has a bit that sounds like someone scratching on giant rubberised turntables whilst riding a pogo stick. And there's trumpets and stuff. Aw fuck it, it's brilliant - JUST GO AND FIND IT NOW.

And to think that more people will buy the new David Hasselhoff single than will have even heard Glasshead. Humankind is surely screwed. If, by the way, you have so much as smirked at the idea that that permed moron should be allowed to invade the nations collective consciousness then you should instantly ram a vinegar-soaked fork through your reproductive organs. There really is no excuse.

Daguerreotypes

I done posted some pictures what I took of my antics over the summer on my fotopic site. Check it out, yo!

Irn Bru Haiku

Mighty orange drink
O girder-based caffeine hit
You dissolved my teeth

Hello Again

Apologies for not posting for a while, you know how it is. Been busy and that. Christ, this feels like one of those emails you send to you old school friends that you can't be arsed to keep in touch with. Bollocks to that. I APOLOGISE FOR NOTHING.

Here are some musings:

- Look after your inner ears. Falling over in public isn't fun (and watching TV for a whole week whilst bed-bound will erode your faith in mankind).

- The humble bicycle is the most efficient machine ever invented. If everyone cycled more I think the world would be a better place. Albeit one in which more people wear lycra. Maybe I haven't thought that one through.

- Growing a beard makes me feel like a grown up. But also makes me look like a ginger-faced vagrant. I think I might grow one too keep my fave warm when ice-climbing though - just so I can grow icicles on it.

- I think I've broken a couple of toes.

- Yesterday I saw first-hand what can happen if you're not careful in the mountains. I will be replacing my battered climbing helmet and maybe taking a first-aid course. I really hope the poor guy is OK.

- I miss listening to John Peel.

- Everyone should check out Married to the Sea every day. DO IT NOW YOU FOOL.

Thus spake I.

Like the Heat of a Thousand Suns

I have rope burns on my wrists and I'm not sure how they got there.

Likewise the bruises on my knees.

I need to improve my technique.

This blog post was brough to you via the power of childish smut.

*Creak*

Right, well that's got rid of both of my regular readers for now. Several months of silence does wonders for one's blog readership. Stops the riff raff dirtying it with their bloodshot little eyes.

In true lazy mofo style, I shall try to recount the last few months in the form of a list. List order and chronology bear no correlation.

- Listening to Sufjan Stevens, reading Cloud Atlas in a tent on the Lofoten Islands in Arctic Norway.
- Going climbing at all hours ofthe night on said same islands.
- Sleeping in a cave on the Moray Firth coast whilst the sky collapses with rain.
- Deciding that I don't like Borrowdale.
- Extracting ticks from my areas.
- Having my first job interview in aages.
- Getting the job.
- Sleeping rough for 2 nights in Oslo sculpture park.
- Falling in love with granite.
- Jamming (and sincerely hoping that you like jamming too).
- Listening to the collected works of Mono at high volume.
- Being calm in the face of swearing motorisits.
- Swimming in lochs.
- Being grumpy about the Edinburgh Festival, but still enjoying the nightly fireworks.
- Growing a comedy ginger beard.
- Shaving it into an awful handlebar moustache for fun.
- Reading lots of other David Mitchell books.
- Not really understanding Jpod by Douglas Coupland.
- Lusting over mountain bikes.
- Spending my future salary on mountain bikes (in my head).
- Reading lots of internet comics.
- Being a bit underwhelmed by Thom Yorke's The Eraser
- Not tidying my room.
- Hurting my feet on discarded bicycle parts in my room.
- Sleeping in an industrial estate near Aviemore
- Climbing 'The Classics'.
- Being scared.
- Being brave.
- Bar-B-Q.
- Boycotting trendy bars with a 'no trainers' policy.
- Sweating my nights away in blistering heat.

Nice.

Punishment

There is no greater form of art thean the mighty pun. Observe:

Stevious says:
fucking hell. writing about climbing is hard

Del says:
an uphill struggle?

Stevious says:
yes. I want it to be the best article ever (est)

Del says:
soon it'll be over, hang in there

Stevious says:
dunno. it's looking a bit ropey

Del says:
er...

Del says:
ah, fuck it. get knotted

Stevious says:
yeah. and your gran

Stevious says:
ite

Del says:
ooooh. no need to rock the boat. if you want more puns you only need axe

Stevious says:
gneiss of you to offer

Stevious says:
but you might cramp(on) my style

Durrrr

Durr durr durr durr durr.

That is all.

It's raining music and it burns. Ouch, I like it.

 

So, after a wondeful few days of gigs, here's the round-up of what I saw at tritych this year.

Adem & Akron/Family at the Bongo Club

Firstly let's get the 'headliners', Akron/Family out of the way. With plenty of charming banter and a good line in noisy blues stomps they seemed promising on the outset. Unfortunately, they fell into the dull stoner rock trap of thinking that you could put 6 minutes of meaningless feedback in EVERY BLOODY SONG and still be entertaining. They were wrong, and as a result somewhat patchy.

No such disappointment from the real star of the night - Adem. With a clutch of effortlessy beautiful songs played on an array of esoteric acoustic instruments, there was a danger that music so fragile would fall apart in the bongo club. Opening with a solo rendition of new song 'spirals' it was clear that no such thing would happen. Somehow managing to avoid all the singer-songwriter cliches without making a hoo-ha about all the whacky instruments employed, the band managed to make you feel like you were the only person in the room. A rare thing indeed.

Extra point also go to Adem's band for using abotu 5 different glockenspiels during the gig. Plink-tastic.

Mogwai at the Usher Hall

Mogwai were my first real love in music and as such I find it hard to describe them without descending into a flurry ofsuperlatives. I've been going to see them live since I was 17 years old, and every gig has been spectacular and unique. Despite the poor acoustics of the Usher hall and the omission of 'My Father My King' (possibly the best live song EVER) the gig was still beautiful, mesmeric and punishing in all the right ways. After tugging on your heartstrings with perfect melodies, they assault you with a veritable barrage of sound. It's a very physical and emotional experience and I urge anyone who hasn't had the 'Gwai live experience to seek it out at the nearest possibility. Just don't expect to leave with your hearing intact.

Keiran Hebden/Steve Reid & Battles at The Venue

Laptop deviant Keiran Hebden has always floated on the more organic side of electronica, so teaming up with Steve Reid - a legendary drummer - for some live shows seems like a brilliant idea. In reality the results were somewhat patchy, but bearing in mind that the whole hours performance was improvised that's no big loss. It was certainly fun watching the interplay between a wizened legend and a twitchy upstart, and the mutual reverence made for a rather touching stage chemistry. Certainly not an essential event, but entertaining nontheless.

Battles, on the other hand are nothing short of incredible. Their records seem a little bit too robotic to really excite - almost verging towards dull muso wankery at times. On stage, however, they create a truly compelling spectacle, but more importantly they make you want to dance your fucking legs off. Combining astonishing musicianship with oodles of spastic energy, they all but tear your face off with their ferocity all the while juggling absurd polyrhythms and dancing like fools. If there's any justice in this owrld they'll be headlining the pyramid stage at next year's glastonbury, and as the camera pans out into the crowd, you'll be just able to make out the banner 'More Human Beat-Box in Post-Rock'.

Tunng & Buck 65 at the Bongo Club

At first I thought Tunng might be a bit like a British version of The Postal Service and was getting rather excited by theor performance. By the end, however, I got a bit bored by their distinct lack of performance, despite having some very accomplished and engaging music. Possibly just wasn't in the mood.

Buck 65 is utterly unique as far as hip-hop artists go. Drawing from his upbringing in rural Canada and seemingly fathomless music collection he crafts superbly skewed tales of, well, just about anything really. On stage, he's like a performing re-embodiment of John Peel. The musical esoterica and technical hitches of Peel's music shows (rapping to obscure classical music and skipping records) blending with the superb storytelling and emotional honesty of Home Truths (each track came with a funny, touching prologue) are enough to make any sane person grin all over.

In summary, then a rather fine festval. Bring on next year! 

Horsepiss

I spent ages writing a post about how wonderful climbing is last night and Blogger appears to have dissolved it. It was a prose of such unrelenting beauty that to gaze upon it would heal lepers and cheer goths up. I'm starting to think I might have dreamed it, but still hold the vague hope that it ended up on some random blog somewhere - I like the idea of it nestling in between missives from some podgy canadian teeneager complaining about being misunderstood by all the losers at school.

Ah well, it was probably a load of quasi-emotional pish with a few long word thrown in to make me seem clever and that.

I'm oof to see no less than FOUR GIGS IN A ROW this week as part of the Triptych Festival, some of which I might even review on here if you're particulary unlucky.

All I need now are some really big chips.

Just back from a fantastic weekend in Dumfriesshire - a part of Scotland I've never really been to before. I must say I was blown away with how remote it seemed out there despite being only about an hour from Glasgow. It's a truly stunning area, with some superb coastline and some world-class mountain biking to boot. All y'all should check it out.

Anyhoo, we were staying in a friend's 'hut' by the sea (which was far more luxurious than that sounds) and decided to go for a stroll along the coast. Barely a soul there apart from a couple of dog walkers, which is just how I like my beaches. We wondered over to one of the wee islands that is normally submerged at high tide for a bit of a poke around.

Look at what we found


Apparently the locals are now trying to build the world's biggest deep-fat fryer.

Civil Liberty

Well, I have yet another reason to love this wonderful nation - Scotland now has a ban in place prohibiting smoking in all enclosed public places. I'm jsut back from the pub, and I smell only of my own glorious scent, and not the stale cancerous smell of tobacco. And hooray for that.

It's a bit of a cultural turning point, and here's why:

Imagine you're in a cafe, enjoying whatever continental bread is trendy this week washed down with a wonderful cup of caffeiene juice. You're with a good friend - maybe even a potential love interest - smiling, gesticulating and generally minding your own business. And then along comes little old me. I stand right next to you and do the foulest, stinkiest fart you've ever experienced. A putrid stench so thick with evil it stains your clothes, your hair and even dries out your contact lenses. You'd think I was a bit of a dick, right? I mean what sort of antisocial bastard would do that?

Well, that's just what smoking's like. Except it gives everyone concerned cancer too. And until now it's been socially acceptable for smokers to inflict this on everybody else - even considered cool to flaunt 'no smoking' signs. But now it's actually illegal - you get a fine for it and everything!

So whilst it's almost a shame that it requires government intervention to establish something that should be a matter of common decency, it's by far the most sensible legislation I've seen in my lifetime. And to those who think it's an affront to civil liberties - is it an affront to ban people from letting their dogs shit on the pavement? Of course not.

So here's three cheers to cleaner air, and a big, mighty fuck you to all the smokers. I hope you enjoy standing outside in the pouring rain like the social lepers that you are.