y.m.f.s

"Not so younger than yesterday"...

2009-04-23T12:54:00.009+01:00

Jamie's 21st birthday party.

“Protest long enough that you are right, and you will be wrong”...

2009-04-23T12:30:00.007+01:00

G20 Protest pics. Fun day out... until the police showed up.

jme

Red Kite Progress (Written by Jamie for CBTR)

2009-04-19T23:11:00.003+01:00

Whether it be the looming silhouette of a Buzzard circling high above or the grayish blur of a Sparrow Hawk whizzing along the hedgerows, there are few sights more exciting than that of a bird of prey, and none more so than the distinctive Red Kite. The forked tail and chestnut-red colouration is immediately recognisable and rather surprisingly a very familiar site to me. I get to witness these magnificent birds almost every day of the week. But how is it that a rare bird I would have had to travel to Mid Wales in hope of spotting a few years ago, is now suddenly thriving on my doorstep (as pictured below), amidst the suburban sprawl of Woodley?

The truth is that once upon a time the Red Kite was as much a London bird as the Ravens in the Tower of London. The streets of Shakespeare's capital were full of Red Kites. "The city of kites and crows," he calls it. Surprisingly, Red Kites are neither particularly strong nor aggressive despite being such large birds (with a wingspan of up to five-foot). They are primarily scavengers and opportunists, which is what made them so successful in 16th century London, feeding on the plentiful rubbish in the streets. The Kite is not capable of opening up sheep or lamb carcasses by itself and has to wait until more powerful birds such as Ravens or Buzzards have made the first inroads before it will attempt to feed. Red Kites are however predators and do take a wide variety of live prey such as earthworms, small mammals, amphibians and birds. They usually pair for life, although this is thought to be more because of a mutual attachment to the same territory and nest site, rather than any great attachment to each other. He he.

Persecution meant that these birds were exterminated in England, Scotland and most of Wales by the end of the last century. This was due to a series of vermin acts set out in the 16th century, requiring 'vermin' which included the Red Kite to be killed, perceived as a threat to expanding agriculture. Such persecution continued throughout the 17th and 18th centuries and the final blow came towards the end of the 18th century, when increasing numbers of Gamekeepers were employed on country estates. These men were responsible for killing off the final few Kites and by the late 18th century Red Kites had bred for the last time in England and Scotland. If it wasn't for the initiative of a few local landowners in rural Mid Wales, who had the foresight to safeguard these beautiful birds, the Red Kite would have probably reached extinction, down to only a final few breeding pairs. It is said that the Red Kite was so close to extinction, at one point the entire population of Kites in 1977 emanated from just one female bird!

Over a period of a 100 years efforts to maintain a fragile breeding population were made by committed generations of landowners, rural communities and dedicated individuals. Then in 1903 the first official Welsh Kite Protection Program was established, now the longest continuous conservation project in the world. In 1989 British conservationists began ambitious schemes in the Chilterns to reintroduce Milvus milvus to its former haunts, using a few young Welsh birds. Red Kites started breeding successfully in the Chilterns area and eventually in 1999 up to over 130 breeding pairs were recorded. So successful have the re-introduction programs been that in the latest assessment birds of conservation concern in the UK 2002-2007, the RSPB removed the Red Kite from it's red list (species of highest concern), to it's amber list (species of medium conservation concern), an action that was unthinkable when the last assessments were made in 1996.

So the next time you're out and about, driving down the M40 to your favorite fishing spot, keep a look out for this amazing bird. Alternatively, you could wait a few years and you may see one flying above Nike Town on Oxford Street! Still very much at risk from Egg thieves and the use of illegal poisoned baits, I hope these beautiful birds are allowed to continue there success and grace our skies for centuries to come.

jme

"Bristol goes heroin chic"...

2009-03-20T18:18:00.008Z

jme

Zippy

2009-03-15T21:03:00.003Z

Starg and I wear QOS zip top and cardigan backstage at The Lexington.

www.queensofsounds.com

jst

Sneezing Panda...

2009-03-04T22:50:00.000Z

Te he he!
jme

Studio Pics...

2009-03-04T22:12:00.003Z

jmex

Beggars Belief

2009-03-01T23:37:00.002Z

by Linda Serck

Reading's Beggars are ditching all their old songs to forge ahead with a brand new sound. BBC Berkshire laments, while co-frontman Justin Girdler assures us it's a step in the right direction.

Well, after writing this I may as well get my copy of Beggar's promo album sampler and fling it in the bin.
The jaunty gems on that disc, once the staple of the 60s and Libertines-influenced Reading band, are making way for a whole new direction in sound.

"We're still writing pop songs," co-frontman Justin Girdler assures me, detecting the disappointment in my voice, "it's not like we've gone into opera or something ridiculous, we've pushed our sound a lot recently and we've come up with quite a new modern twist on things."

Beggars formed three years ago with brothers Justin and Jamie Girdler fronting a band infused with infectious harmonic pop hooks redolent of The Beatles, The Kinks and The **’s.

Now songs such as You And Me, Eulalia and Someday Too Soon are being scrapped - for good.

"We got into a lot of different music over the last few years," says Justin. "When we first took the band seriously we were very much 60s boys and all of our influences were coming out of that time period.

"I think just naturally we started looking for newer inspiration and something a bit fresher - we've always been the type of band that moved on."

Two new demos have made it on to their MySpace - Lie Upon Lie and Tolerate. While the guitar-driven pop is still prevalent, the darker electronica kick to the tracks is certainly a far cry from their Beatles-esque harmonic sing-a-longs of old.

"We wanted to have more of an upbeat thing and we wanted to bring in more synth sounds and a bit more of a funky feel to some songs," says Justin.

He cites Michael Jackson among the band's current influences.

"He's got that nice mix of modern upbeat dancey sound, but with quite soully vocals and 'pop'."
Beggars recorded the demos with Ferg '500' Peterkin, who's worked with Depeche Mode and The Horrors, "so he's really good with twisting knobs and making funny sounds."

And the band are currently holed up in the studio rehearsing and recording more songs.

"We're really confident with the new stuff," says Justin. "We just hope people are ready for it. I think new our songs a lot more exciting, we've got some really great choruses in the new stuff and some interesting things going on.

"We're just not the skinny-jeaned indie band that people remember from a few years ago."

Mulholland Drive

2009-03-01T18:28:00.005Z

A puzzling, peculiarly strange nightmare. Mulholland drive left me creeping, perplexed and terrified up the stairs to my room last night!
David Lynch's mysterious 2001 film contains a typically weird character base; paraplegics, lesbian amnesiacs and eccentric espresso connoisseurs are blended curiously with seemingly ordinary everyday people.
Shortly after arriving in Hollywood, bright-eyed, aspiring actress Betty stumbles upon Rita, still reeling from the car accident the previous night. The two begin to piece together suspicious clues to discover who Rita really is (or was) before the crash and what trouble she seems to be in. Subplots converge like switching characters and settings in dreams, providing clues themselves to what appears to be going on.
More complex than Blue Velvet, though at least as strange, channelling the nightmare vision of Eraserhead with the undertones of terror contained in Roman Polanski's Rosemary's Baby. Set aside the early hours of a Sunday morning and i have a morbid hope it does the same for you as for me!

dan w.

Mulholland Drive
(David Lynch, 2001)

Import/Export...

2009-02-24T10:20:00.005Z

Ulrich Seidl's Import/Export is a bleak societal commentary on the inevitable exploitation brought on by capitalism. It's documentary style narrative tracks the opposing routes of Olga a Ukrainian single mum and Pauli an Austrian head-strong security guard. It drags you through the depressing truths of life at the bottom of the food chain and the decency that persists even in the most soul destroying situations. It is both shockingly beautiful and darkly funny. You simply gotta watch this film!.... at a comfortable distance!

jme

Western Spaghetti

2009-02-19T15:15:00.007Z

Best described by RiseAgainst90's Youtube comment as, "Trippy". My favorite bit is the tomato squishing. All the sounds are awesome..I'm addicted!

jst

Misfits Utd

2009-02-16T11:40:00.002Z

Boots shined and ready, butterflies in the stomach, Capri Sun packed..it can all only mean one thing..5-a-side football!

Last night saw the opening league fixture for Beggars FC and what a game it was. Having not been able to assemble a team of our own, Webb and I were introduced to the rest of our new team-mates; Dellroy, Daniel Dreads, Phil 32, Rumjika (aka Rum) and Jhonny Anger..

The captains were asked to enter the centre circle for the toss. After an awkward silence and foot shuffling on our side, i stepped forwards. Tails never fails, we had kick-off. Although things had started well, we found ourselves 3-1 down with a third of the game already played. However as the team began to gel, we started to play some great football and managed to end the first half 3-3. Then came the all important halftime team-talk, we discussed positions..Big Dellroy and Webb at the back with Anger and I attacking, Dreads in goal. We started the second a little shakey, quickly conceding two goals, as we got used to our roles, but then began the onslaught! Out of nowhere, Webb half-volleyed the ball straight across the keeper and into the top corner. After that, the goals didn't stop coming!

We left the pitch with our heads held high and a 7-5 win under our belts!

Till next week ;)

Jst x

"It's business time"...

2009-02-13T18:31:00.009Z

Been in our Hurst studio all this week putting down some demos of new tracks. With the help of Ferg Peterkin behind the controls (Depeche Mode/Horrors) we are planning to record versions of 5 new tracks... So watch this space!
A couple of early recordings have been put up on the myspace already: http://www.myspace.com/beggarsband

jme

“To appreciate the beauty of a snow flake, you have to stand out in the cold”...

2009-02-12T23:19:00.011Z

Michael Jackson the musical - I wonder if it touches on any of the more controversial events in his life!?!
Fun, fun, fun, in the evening snow. The following day, saw even more snowfall and London was brought to a stand still, what better time to put your feet up and indulge in the timeless brilliance of World at War which just so happened to be on TV.
Then with cabin fever beginning to set in, we braved the treacherous couple of centimeters of snow and made it to the pub!

jme

Kinski

2009-02-10T12:25:00.005Z

Fitzcarraldo
(Werner Herzog, 1982)

danw.

Covert Candy...

2009-02-03T20:01:00.014Z

Put simply - You don't have to pay for clothes!

We are constantly buying new clothes with our hard earned cash when we really shouldn't have to. Why? Because the clothes we want are lying in other people's wardrobes not being worn, and the clothes we no longer wear may be exactly what someone else is looking for.

CovertCandy does something about this situation by providing a trading platform so you can sell the clothes you don't want - earning yourself credits. These credits can then be used to buy clothes from other users. Meaning you get clothes for free!

CovertCandy is an online community coming together to exchange clothing. It's about locating people with similar tastes and building a network of friends. Search our clothing database for the next addition to your wardrobe, buy items with your credits, then sit back and wait for the packages to arrive through the post. You save time and money.

Click here:

jme

Chris Strong...

2009-02-03T19:51:00.010Z

jmex

The Black Dogs Progress...

2009-02-03T19:41:00.002Z

The sad story of the Black Dog is told through a series of flipbooks. The scene grows denser as looped scenes accumulate and the narrative develops.

jmex

Consider The Birds - Who they are and what they do...

2009-01-28T18:52:00.003Z

There's something a bit Victorian about gathering all the knowledge on one topic into a single volume. And, on the evidence of Consider the Birds, it's easy to imagine the British science writer Colin Tudge as a 19th-century clergyman-naturalist, sermonising about nature's marvels and corresponding with other learned gentlemen about the territorial habits of the robins in his vicarage garden.

But it's a mark of how good Tudge's book is that it reads, not like a reference work - although you could use it as that - but rather like a David Attenborough series in print. And it's another mark of its quality that, despite the book occupying ground already well trodden in the work of the Greatest Living Englishman, I hardly ever found myself yearning for a moving image.

Tudge's book covers everything about birds, from their prehistory, evolution and behaviour to their increasingly threatened state. Since archaeopteryx, the oldest fossil bird (discovered in 1861), first wobbled through the Jurassic sky, evolution has made them ever more adept at turning muscle into motion, giving them the most lightweight components, such as hollow bones, and the most aerodynamic shapes. Evolution has also shaped wings to supply the particular combination of speed, stamina and agility that suits their lifestyle - even underwater. Such diversity allows birds to hold their own in every environment on earth. And they have plenty more tricks besides flying. Among many others, we meet the African ground hornbill, which hunts in packs, and rouges its savage beak with oil; the hoatzin of South America, which is born with archaeopteryx-like claws on its wings, and lives, cow-like, off vegetation that ferments in its stomach; and the crows of the Pacific island of New Caledonia, whose ability to make and use tools rivals that of chimpanzees.

But the greatest pleasure is when Tudge reveals the startling feats of the birds around us. The swift shrieking above your head on a summer's evening might have flown to Africa and back without ever touching ground. The manky pigeon that threatens to poo on me as I pass under the railway bridge has a magnetic mineral in its nose that acts as a built-in compass. That frumpy female dunnock in your back garden is having sex 30 times a day, with several different males - each of whom, before mating, pecks at her rear end to make her eject the sperm of the previous suitor. You needn't go to Amazonia to see natural wonders. A bus ticket will do, and the more you understand, the more wonderful it gets. Anyone who wants to know more about the birds around them beside their names would do well to keep Consider the Birds next to their field guide.

But while Tudge is excellent on what birds do, he's not so strong on why they do it - the evolutionary theory that stitches the examples together. Even when they're explained well, for example, it's difficult to get your head round the several theories for why female peacocks and birds of paradise prefer males with the gaudiest and most cumbersome ornaments. Anyone coming to these ideas through Tudge is likely to end up more confused than necessary. Richard Dawkins did a better job of explaining the classic experiments involving tinkering with the tails of male long-tailed widow birds - showing that females do indeed go for males with longer tails - more than 20 years ago, in The Blind Watchmaker. Tudge even gets the experimenter's name wrong, turning the Swede Malte Andersson into Mark Anderson.

This uncharacteristic slip highlights Tudge's hostility towards the view of evolution advocated by Dawkins and others. But this body of theory is far more nuanced than the nice-guys-finish-last caricature that Tudge paints, and in fact underpins many of the studies he celebrates. In turn, these studies have informed and supported the theories, in a dialogue going back decades that has shown us that a bird's behaviour is as well fitted to its environment as its body.

When Tudge does follow this thread, it's gripping. He describes, for example, the Panamanian songbirds that tolerate the chicks of a cuckoo-like parasite in their nests, but only when there are no bees living nearby. This apparently baffling arrangement turns out to make perfect sense. . In the absence of bees, which keep away flies that lay their eggs on chicks, an interloper is the next best option, because the foreign chick picks maggots off its nest-mates.

Discovering this was a triumph of painstaking observation, but to go from description to explanation you must ask what the payoff is. The assumption that every living creature is, in the novelist Neal Stephenson's phrase, “a serious evolutionary badass”, has proved an excellent place to start.

But more often Tudge stops at description, risking the impression that bird behaviour is governed by anything-goes eccentricity, rather than finely honed self-interest. This doesn't mean that everyone is invariably horrible to everyone else: often, the best way to be a “badass” is to be a good neighbour, and he stresses how co-operative birds are, often roosting, nesting and feeding together. But he doesn't explain how such states arise, and I still think the best explanation is that natural selection favours the individuals that are best at helping themselves.

The pity is that Tudge has the intellectual armoury both to explain the ideas and take them on, not usher his readers past muttering about “pessimism” and “materialism”. Indeed, his capacity to occasionally exasperate is part of what - along with being generous, humane and moral - makes him good company, and what keeps Consider the Birds interesting. On second thoughts, don't file it next to your field guide. Keep it, and his previous book The Secret Life of Trees, between your nature books and your science books - between Richards Dawkins and Mabey. It's a territory that Tudge has made his own.

The Sunday Times review by John Whitfield
Consider the Birds by Colin Tudge

jme

Lupe Fiasco - "Kick Push"

2009-01-24T19:26:00.001Z

Gomorrah...

2009-01-21T19:08:00.005Z

Rarely can a piece of reportage have begun with a more arresting image. A container is swinging in the air as it is lofted towards a cargo ship moored in the port of Naples. Its doors suddenly open, and the contents spill on to the quay. In their hoary stiffness, these falling forms seem at first like shop-window dummies, crumpling and shattering as they smack into concrete. But the truth soon sinks in: they are frozen cadavers, the corpses of Chinese workers being covertly returned to the homeland for burial so that their paper identities can be taken up by a new phalanx of immigrants.

Page one of Roberto Saviano's Gomorrah is enough to communicate the raw force of his writing and a sense of why the book has been an astonishing success in Italy. Many Italians are reluctant readers, Saviano is a first-time author, still in his 20s, and Gomorrah is an angry, unsettling work of non-fiction: so the fact that it is closing in on a million sales is a literary phenomenon of almost Potteresque proportions.

The title is a pun. Camorra is the name most often used for the mafia networks that have turned Naples and its hinterland into a god-forsaken metropolis. Whether it be in the form of dead Chinese immigrants, phoney branded fashion, weapons, toxic waste or narcotics, the criminal underside of the global economy finds a nodal point in this city of contemporary sins.

Behind it all lies an underworld that is much harder to write about than the Sicilian mafia. Cosa Nostra has a single rulebook and a single structure, building up in a pyramid from the soldiers at the base to the boss of bosses at the apex. The Neapolitan Camorra, or "the System" as it is known by those on its inside, is a vast, pullulating world of gangs. They form, split, descend into vicious feuds, and re-emerge in new alliances only to be annihilated in some new internecine war. Whereas a Sicilian capo can confidently expect to see his grandchildren set out on their criminal careers, a senior camorrista is lucky if he reaches 40. Reporters who try to keep the public informed about "the System" soon find that the faces, names and underworld connections proliferate far beyond the tolerance of even the most dogged lay reader.

By becoming a literary sensation, Gomorrah has broken through the bewildered indifference that used to greet Camorra stories in Italy. Yet it is a difficult work to summarise, a generic hybrid: it is part undercover investigation, part political polemic, part history and part autobiography. One of the many harrowing tales in the book concerns Saviano's father, a doctor. Early in his career, he was beaten up for treating the victim of a Camorra hit rather than leaving him to die; he has since become an embittered man who feebly admires the violent machismo the criminals espouse.

Compelling as they are, none of these elements holds Gomorrah together. The details of Saviano's own life are sparse, for example, and his undercover investigations do not reach a climactic unveiling; nor are the facts he garners from judicial papers about the Camorra's role in narcotics, construction, waste management and murder particularly new.

The book's real thrust comes from the way Saviano puts his own sensibility at the centre of the story. This is a kaleidoscopic personal testimony rooted in a visceral rage and revulsion at what organised crime has done to one of the most beautiful places on earth. Saviano feels the salty swill of nausea rise in his throat as he sees yet another teenage hoodlum scooped into a body bag from a pool of gore in the street. Anger clutches at his chest like asthma when the umpteenth building worker dies on an illegal construction site. The ground seethes beneath him as he explores a landscape ruined for generations by fly-tipped carcinogenic waste. Saviano is not content to observe the holes punched in bulletproof glass by an AK-47; he is morbidly drawn to rub his finger against the edges until it bleeds. Organised crime is a permanent emergency in southern Italy, and it has never been written about with such guts and passion.

Saviano's prose makes for an uncomfortable ride. It bears the same relationship to standard journalese that piloting a beat-up Vespa through the chaotic streets of Naples bears to cruising round Tunbridge Wells in a Volvo. There are jump-starts and screeching halts, crashing gears, mounted kerbs and death-defying lurches towards oncoming traffic. The results are sometimes ugly ("The arms question is kept secret in the bowels of the economy, sealed in a pancreas of silence") and occasionally obscure (I have no idea what a "calibrated sedimentation" is). But the style has a remorseless hold on your attention all the same.

Unfortunately Saviano's translator is not always up to the unenviable task of rendering all this into English. Fucili a pompa are not "air rifles", but pump-action shotguns. Auto blindate are not "armoured cars", but ordinary sedans with bulletproof plating. But the translation is good enough to allow most of the scattergun power of Saviano's picture-making to reach us undiluted. A woman Camorra boss and her pair of female guards, both dressed in bright yellow and equipped for their task with a matching yellow Smart car. A sweatshop tailor weeping when he sees his handiwork worn by Angelina Jolie on TV. Sixteen-year old gunslingers, bulked out by Kevlar vests, and so wired on the MDMA their bosses administer to keep them alert that they have to drink Coca-Cola by the litre to stave off dehydration.

Gomorrah has enraged the gangsters. Following a series of highly credible death threats, since autumn 2006 Saviano has been given an armed escort at public expense. Gratifyingly, this has boosted his book's sales even further and has failed to silence the young journalist. Read this important book, and you will appreciate why Italy is still a country that needs heroes like him.

This article was written by John Dickie for The Guardian.

Matteo Garrone has now adapted Gamorrah into a brilliant film as well.

http://www.gomorrahmovie.co.uk/

jmex

"Bowling is a sport that could be right down your alley"...

2009-01-20T20:42:00.017Z

Brilliant evening with Semera, Caroline and Sarah Bates - I'm amazed we were not thrown out of that restaurant post dance-off! Probably had something to do with the bill!
Couple of nights later we played the Ben Sherman launch party at Bloomsbury Lanes and I came to terms with the fact
I'm shit at bowling!
Danny - I can't believe you missed your flight!

jmex

The Makings of You...

2009-01-14T12:54:00.001Z

"Keep Calm and Carry On"...

2009-01-13T20:46:00.010Z

The only thing bad about a holiday, is it's followed by a non-holiday"...

2009-01-05T23:33:00.013Z

Twas the night before Christmas... and Soho was full of drunk suits in ripped Christmas hats! And if that wasn't scary enough, I was yet to witness Trisha's Christmas decorations!

Spent Christmas by the sea... New Year in the country.
A very Happy New Year to all! Be positive and remember: "It's tough to make predictions... especially about the future!"
he he!
Jmex

"We have met the enemy and it is us"...

2009-01-05T20:26:00.013Z

Primal Scream played the Hammersmith Apollo... Joined onstage by Kevin Shields it was possibly the loudest gig i've ever been to! I think they were trying to out do the noise level of a My Bloody Valentine gig!
The following day, we were invited by the kind people at Bench to sample some of their new clothing range. Thanks again Rachel. Crazy dressing rooms.
Jmex

Arcadia

2008-12-10T19:23:00.004Z

Discovered Reading's most working class public house on Friday evening. I know this, because on the wall-mounted T.V.s was looped footage of a cat fighting a squirrel. A few doors down, caught MidiMidis at Conrades Club. First time I had seen them. Was like a demented Strokes playing the mega drive..they were insane! The photographer seemed to be attempting to climb inside Marcus' nostrils and there was a tiny kid wandering through everyones legs during the performance..would of made a great video for them.
On our way to the Afterdark, Tim and I were waylaid. Finding ourselves being slid countless black Sambuccas down the bar, western-style, by a buxom brunette in Coopers, while she told us inappropriate jokes. That's the problem with going to the Afterdark. You pass so many other bars on your way, by the time you finally get there..you can't see.

Jst

http://www.myspace.com/midimidis

"If you can't convince them, confuse them"....

2008-12-06T13:44:00.009Z

Steve Winwood treated the Shepards Bush to a sublime set of classic tracks from Spencer Davis to Blind Faith as well as new material from Nine Lives. His bongo player was unreal! The following evening we caught up with the brilliant film maker and artist Paul Kelly. Check out his two new fIlms - 'Take Three Girls: The Dolly Mixture Story' and 'Lawrence of Belgravia'.
Then from the Pillars to KoKo for the Agent Provocateur party... Girls in underwear, free cocktails and live music from Mick Jones and Bobby Gillespie. Unfortunately for you, I left my camera in the cloakroom!

Jme

Zealots

2008-11-28T11:32:00.006Z

Last Friday saw a night of endless, strobe-induced boogie at our hideout/studio. Late into the night, we were all about to say our farewells, until 'Fu-Gee-La' blasted out from nowhere..and we were hypnotized into dancing till dawn. Hip-hop has never been my thing, I just don't find it varied enough and it rarely moves me. But with Fugees' The Score, it's different.
At age ten, Webb's older brother gave us a tape of the song 'Mista, Mista' which features the words 'Mutha Fucka' about eighteen times.. We thought we were the coolest kids on Marfield road! We eventually got hold of the complete album and ended up wearing the cassette down so much, we had to get the cd. A year later, Webb and I set out on our first proper school trip (The one where you go away from home for a week in year 6, stay up all night talking about girls and get taught orienteering by perverts). It was an amazing week, my first real taste of independence and I loved it. We named our dorm, The Fugees and listened to 'The Score' all week on our Walkmans. Now everytime I hear The Fugees' version of 'No Woman, No Cry' I am immediately transported back..slamming some drawers closed, tears streaming down my face and all over a girl! What was her name again?..

Jst

The youth is starting to change. Are you starting to change? Are you together?...

2008-11-19T18:57:00.011Z

Roro's birthday drinks.
Jme

“Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain”...

2008-11-17T01:44:00.009Z

Beneath the Christmas lights, Carnaby Street lay host to the phenomenon that is the silent disco, Me and Justin just so happened to be walking past when it all kicked off... it was quite a sight. And if that wasn't enough to put us in a festive spirit, we emerged from the studio that night and the rain had turned into snowfall.
The following day, Justin and I we're invited to the Gibson showroom to try out some guitars. We walked away with two new J45's!
Jme

"The ocean is a wilderness reaching round the globe, wider than a Bengal jungle, and fuller of monsters".... Visited the London Aquarium today..

2008-11-17T00:17:00.010Z

Visited the London Aquarium today...
Jme

"If a donkey bray at you, don't bray at him"...

2008-11-16T23:35:00.013Z

Went to see Gray's production of 'My Own Show' at the Pentameters Theatre in Hampsted. If you haven't been to see a play for a while or just fancy something different to do, then i would highly recommend going to see a production at this particular theatre. Tickets are cheap, you can bring a bottle of wine up from the pub below and when the production is over you can go and get a crepe from round the corner, everyone's a winner.... especially Starg! The following day we discovered some friends we didn't know we had at our studio. That evening we travelled to Canterbury to play a party. Great night, with a impromptu support set from Mr Noah Kelly.
Jme

Stand...

2008-11-13T12:47:00.000Z

Juice

2008-11-03T09:14:00.005Z

Hello! Tell us more about where you're from and what do you?
We are from the biscuit-making town of Reading, England. We live on the outskirts where it is quite countrified, but we can hop on a train and be in a Soho bar in thirty minutes. Suits us perfectly. Our rehearsal space is out in the middle of nowhere, near where we live, surrounded by donkeys and mechanics.

How was the tour?
This was our first headline tour, which made it different to the others. This was the first time that we were the band that everyone was there to see and it was quite a humbling experience. We did it all on our own (I was lumbered with most of the driving, but i had just read 'On The Road' so would imagine myself as the English Dean Moriarty zooming up and down the motorways. It helped get us around a bit faster!). We became even closer as friends, if that was possible, but it took a few rough nights times to get there.

What does your tour bus say about you?
I haven't asked it.

We heard that Justin almost lost his voice recently. How is he doing?
I think a bit more TLC may be needed in order for a full recovery..maybe a long weekend in Singapore?

Why did you name yourselves Beggars?
It was almost a reaction to some of the ridiculously convoluted names that have surfaced in new British and American bands recently. To put it simply, it's sounds cool and is short and sweet. Not to say it didn't take us a bloody lifetime to settle on it!

How would you describe your music to your parents?
Secure.

What sets Beggars apart from the other indie bands out there?
Maybe that Dan, Starg and I have been friends since we were little kids and James and I are brothers. We've all known each other a while and i think this comes across in our music..especially when we play live. We all write the songs and Dan (Drummer) tends to write most of the lyrics. We've been writing a lot of new stuff recently and i don't think it sounds like anyone else, we are all very excited about it..it's a world away from our myspace demos.

Any hidden talents among the group members?
James used to play for Reading FC academy, Justin played the role of Oliver at the London palladium, Starg isn't a bad dancer and Webb's written a novel (One of these isn't true).

Tell us what happens in Reading, apart from the obvious music festival.
Nothing.

What's the inspiration behind your music?
Everything from The Impressions to the countryside, Kes to Georgie Fame..Mod-Soul!

What would you do if you weren't in Beggars?
No Idea. Form Beggars II?

Complete this sentence: 5 years from now…
..I hope to be happy.

Why should we listen to Beggars?
It beats going down 'pit.

And if we don't listen to Beggars, what would you recommend we listen to?
Anything mentioned in the inspiration question above. I am a big fan of BBC Radio 4, it learns you more than school could ever do.

Lastly, any exciting news coming up for Beggars?
Keep an eye out for the new tracks on our myspace and check out our blog if you haven't already:
http://youngmodsforgottenstory.blogspot.com/

[Justin answered questions for Singapore's, Juice Magazine.]

Of Time And The City

2008-10-29T00:28:00.007Z

'The problem with being poor is that it takes up all of your time..the problem with being rich is that it takes up everybody elses'
The above is quoted in 'Of time..' and was realised by Webb, Ruth and I as we scrounged some pennies together to pay for the petrol (and a few cans) to get us to Oxford to see Terence Davis' latest. The hour long journey was out of necessity as this was only cinema in a 10 mile radius to be showing the film. Nevertheless, we enjoyed the road trip and a change of scenery. On our arrival, a very pregnant lady offered us an extremely dramatic story, tearfully culminating in the fact that she simply must get to Botley..and needed our money in order to do so!

It's a lovely film/documentary. Some of the most beautiful footage of Liverpool you will see. Davis' voice was quite mesmerizing, although the narration couldn't help but remind me of 'Monty' Griffiths! They should definitely serve you a brew to take in with you, it'd fit perfect!

Justin

Flying On The Ground Is Wrong

2008-10-29T00:16:00.008Z

Tuesday. Final night of the tour. Soundcheck at the legendary 100 Club ran its smooth course as ever! Jumped off stage for an impromptu stairwell interview with Damien Gabet. All questions and quips out of the way, we took a walk to the familiar kaleidoscopic streets of Soho for a quick bite to eat. It didn't take long however before we were buzzing ourselves up to the Heavenly offices for some Red stripe and Buffalo Springfield.
We arrived back to a packed 100 Club and had to go straight on stage. Gig was the most enjoyable of the tour. Great vibe. Great crowd. Thank you so much for your support.
Eventually security managed to kick everyone out of the venue, but on we marched to Trisha's where the good vibes continued through the night.
Webb

2008-10-28T17:48:00.003Z

Nuthin but a Hounddog

2008-10-22T00:09:00.022+01:00

Friday night at The Cooler in Bristol. Pre gig in the dressing room with german journalist Johanna; nuts with a polaroid camera..Noah Kelly sat awkwardly all night behind beggars t-shirts (cheers!). Later on bristol had twisted mr.hyde-like with booze, so getting to and from the van across the street turned into a deadly game of British bulldog! Great night.

Awoke Tuesday morning to bright autumn sunshine; last gasp of summer maybe...Went straight into the studio to finish off some new tracks. Daisy treated us to her best Elvis impersonation.

Jamie

Snowy September

2008-10-21T22:32:00.003+01:00

Our dressing room in MK was more akin to a cosy ski resort lodge with a view over-looking the snow dome's indoor slopes; swedish masseuse's day off sadly. Jamie and I even managed to venture out onto the snow for a quick session! radical.. Is it just us or is Milton Keynes not dissimilar to a huge airport?
Justin

Gifted Baristas

2008-10-21T22:29:00.007+01:00

Flashing your band pass got you a free coffee at Night and Day Bar..cappuccino, latte, expresso, mocha..ah the possibilities.. A nice way to relax after a few hours on the road, complimented by the local rag. Perhaps a little too long, by the time we'd finished the fabled record shops on Oldham Street had closed. A tip-off from a Manc friend took us to the Northern Quarter's Odd Bar..we were pleasantly surprised; excepting dan's hash of corned beef!
Justin

Silver Pen Boost

2008-10-19T18:01:00.034+01:00

Journey time to and from Wales passed with a frantic game of the band alphabet (or conversations in a muso asylum). Justin's thimble-sized risotto portion caused a riot on table nine...elsewhere top button tight, Jamie somehow passed off as a critic for a free meal again..Cardiff freshers fought the evening drizzle for some Barfly Beggars.
Webb

Don't Look Now

2008-10-09T19:24:00.018+01:00

A late cancellation by the Cambridge promoter, due to 'venue issues', resulted in an early day off yesterday. Although we were disappointed, the realisation that Justin had almost entirely lost his voice in Liverpool meant that at least we gained a recovery day. We are planning to re-arrange the gig for a later date.

We had given Nottingham the prestigious title of Beggars 'Bogey Town', after a series of unfortunate events over past trips to the City. The most farcical being a last minute trip to a gig in the city which began as badly as it would end; driving to London first by mistake...

After pushing a Kia Pride (with bin bag for a back window) well beyond it's limits, we arrived at the venue in Nottingham just as the band took to the stage. After several post-gig drinks, we quickly realised that the designated driver was in no fit state to make a two and a half hour journey back South. We ended up convincing our, then, manager to let us crash on the floor of his cupboard-sized hotel room. Waking the next morning we received a text from said manager, who had already left,

"Careful when leaving, hotel owner asking questions". We packed up our gear and made our way downstairs, passing reception towards the exit. It was here we were accosted by the tiny old landlady who looked like she'd been working the night shift there for forty years,

"Have you given in your keys?" She enquired softly. To which we replied,

"Yes..." her face then transformed from that of a harmless pensioner to a troll, not dissimilar to something out of 'Don't Look Now'!

"NO YOU HAVEN'T!" She Screamed at us. And we ran. Straight out of the door, towards where we had left Martha (our trusty Kia Pride) in the railway car park..only, we went the wrong way and gave ourselves double the distance to run. As we slowed to catch our breath (sleeping bags and pillows seem extremely heavy when you haven't exercised for a while) we noticed her stocky son had decided to give chase..shit.

Half a mile later we reached the car, everything was bundled in; sleeping bags, guitar, pillows, drummer.. We quickly realised that we were a man down and looked back to see Starg, totally out of breath, mumbling something about us going ahead without him. The beefster was now dangerously close behind him. Justin, who was already in the car, reversed at about 40mph out of the space and back towards dan the lagger who jumped into the back seats. Without letting the door shut we headed for the car-park exit, fast. Just as we turned the final corner..Bang!..we smashed straight into the front of an oncoming car..shit!.. "Keep moving..!"

"Sorry!" Justin shouted out of the window as we shot out of the car park. The other driver is probably still there, frozen by shock. With that, we zoomed out of Nottingham onto the M1 and headed home Southwards. Leaving behind a flurry of sirens, the furious landlady, beefcake and the unlucky driver in his dented Corsa.

..This time however, Nottingham was far kinder to us; Marks and Spencers sandwiches waited for us in the dressing room! Thankyou to the fans for the great response, the nice words after the gig won't be forgotten.

Trent Terrace

2008-10-04T21:11:00.023+01:00

Passing disused industrial estates running alongside the Trent, we arrived in Stoke on a September afternoon; hungry for the live show.

It feels like a while since we were last out on the road, back in hot May with the sweaty JJJ boys and our scouse story-telling tour manager Paul "Brucey" Bruce at the wheel. That first drive up here for the Underground gig was full of appetite and anxiety.
But this time was different, it was our first headline tour and that makes it more exciting..we took to the stage with opening night ambition and were greeted with a very warm reception. All was well.

After a good night's sleep in Liverpool's factory suburb of Runcorne (Thankyou again Nicola and Wayne for the warm hospitality..and Ben the collapsing Labrador). We headed straight for the city's Cavern Walks to our favourite beat Inspired boot shop; where we spent a good hour slipping on and off cavern boots. Later in the evening we were reacquainted with Brucey, for the first time sine the summer festivals and found ourselves enjoying yet more tales. Thankyou to those who missed the big match for the gig..we hope it was worth your while.
Webb