Derek

Derek

I like Ricky Gervais. I loved The Office and Extras. I think An Idiot Abroad is a work of art, although that is mainly down to Karl Pilkington. I even think he hits the spot now and again with his stand up comedy.

In thirty five confusing, pea brained, mealy mouthed, poorly thought out minutes last night he undid all that good work with his latest offereing 'Derek'. Thirty five minutes of confusing, poorly acted nonsense that was billed as a 'comedy / drama'. Unfortunately this mean spirited and unlikeable piece of television offered neither. As far as i could make out it was Gervais in a comedy cardigan, with a comedy comb-over, jutting his chin out and shuffling around the place. The problem with that is Gervais is just not a good enough actor to pull it off. Dustin Hoffman as Rainman? Yes. Ricky Gervais as Derek? No. It says something about your limited ability when you're acted off the screen by Karl Pilkington in a wig.

As far as I'm concerned if you're going to portray an eccentric and obviously mentally disabled middle aged man and try and play it for laughs you at least have to try and appeal to the viewers sense of pathos. Gervais was as far away from hitting the spot than a Fernando Torres potshot at goal. Therefore i sat there perplexed as to exactly what he was trying to say. Were we meant to laugh at Derek? Were we meant to laugh with him? Were we not meant to laugh at all and realise halfway through that the joke was on us for finding any of it amusing? If anyone can offer an answer to these questions I'd be intrigued to hear it because i still can't fathom it out. Perhaps Gervais should have treated himself to a DVD copy of 'That Peter Kay Thing'. The Episode 'Leonard' where Kay plays an old eccentric man and Britain's oldest paperboy was dripping in pathos. He knew where to play it for laughs and where to stop it in it's tracks and tug at the heartstrings. Gervais decided that doing a comedy fall into a garden pond was the level he wanted to pitch Derek at. The only time he came within a mile of showing a delicate touch was when he arrived back at the old peoples home with his lottery tickets only to be informed that his old lady friend had died. For a brief moment we saw what might have been before he reverted to hamming up the comedy walk and jutting his comedy chin out even further.

The signs were there with 'Lifes Too Short' which i managed to persevere with for one episode. Not because i found it particularly offensive but because it was achingly shit and unfunny. At the moment watching Gervais trying to be edgy and difficult is like watching your favourite band put out a double album of freeform jazz and white noise. He appears to have no-one around him to say 'Ricky, that is absolute bollocks and if you commit it to film you're going to undo ten years of undeniable brilliance'. 

Gervais has said in the past ‘just because someone is offended it doesn’t mean they’re right’ and he's absolutely correct. Although if you're going to try and offend people at least do it with a sense of style and panache and at the very least be funny.

Rob H - 2012

Rusholme Rock

The Stone Roses are back.......and so is Aziz Ibrahim with a new solo album. Carl Stanley runs the rule over his new offering.

Rusholme Rock

April sees Aziz Ibrahim return with his new solo album Rusholme Rock, described by the man himself as kind of 'Asian Blues', this blessed and extremely talented guitarist has both re-visited past material and created new songs for this his second solo release.

With only Aziz and Tabla master Dalbir Singh Rattan playing on the album they create a big sound for two guys, these two very accomplished players come up with a host of beautifully layered sounds and traditional re-workings on some of the guitarists most renowned work, the classic Ian Brown tune 'My Star' re-christened here as 'My Sitar', Aziz's acoustic version brings out his and the songs roots which is just as hypnotic as the original.

Rusholme Rock's enlightening opener 'Xen and Now' is a traditional Pakistani sounding piece made almost cinematic with amazing guitar work but the albums interest point could well be the return to songs like My Star, Kills Me and Middle Road which go closer to the guitarist's own interpretation and how he probably heard these songs the first time round, like the track that has had much bearing and influence on his own musical journey, 'Morassi', a song first released on a Melody Maker compilation many years ago it turned into a personal favourite and has been re-worked into one of the albums highlights, an uplifting beautiful feel of time and space and as you'd expect his playing is awesome, and though some of it might sound electric don't be fooled as everything on here is played on acoustic guitar.

Again songs like 'Kills Me' have appeared before but its the chemistry between these two players that takes them somewhere else, his ability to showcase his own style over his Pakistani traditional background and rock'n'roll chops is felt no more than on 'Middle Road', heard before on a earlier release he offers up probably his best version to date, sounding like a rock tune but played in his eastern style with some great lyrics its just a fantastic cross over and example of what he does so well.

Aziz Ibrahim's overall influences and love for all music comes through in the albums closer 'Heavens Rain', that of something very oriental and bluesy at the same time, which is quite an achievement in its self but also something very delicate and probably offers the best window to the mans appetite and understanding and playing of a whole range of genres, sounds and traditions of music.

Rusholme Rock also includes a fantastic and outrageous version of Sonny Curtis's 'I Fought The Law' which plays as the perfect centre piece providing the albums middle ground, we all know it but it comes at you from a totally different place, its clever, fun and sounds great, and its one The Clash would of tipped their hats to no doubt.

So if Lahore to Longsight was Aziz going back in time and tracking the roots of his families journey in music then Rusholme Rock is showcasing his own unique journey in sound, style and influences and bringing them together, a truly beautiful album.

Playing Friday the 4th of May at Monto Water Rats Aziz launches 'Rusholme Rock' performing several tracks from the album

http://www.facebook.com/events/222046744561887/

 

Viva La Roses!

I did something strange last Friday. Something i haven't done for a long time. Something if i'm being honest, i thought i'd never do again.

I got genuinely excited about going to see a band play a gig. 

Not any old band though and certainly not any old gig. The band in question is The Stone Roses.

So after the best part of an hour refreshing web pages whilst holding on the phone i managed to secure a couple of tickets for the resurrection of my generations version of The Beatles at Heaton Park in Manchester next year.

Carl Stanley did similar....here's his take on the events of last week. 

Rob H

The Stone Roses - Back And All Soul'd Out

The great ticket rush of Friday 21st for Stone Roses concerts was like nothing ever seen before, 220,000 tickets, all 3 days sold out in 68 minutes, the quickest in history for any UK band.

Everyone & their uncle must have had a go at 9.30 am that Friday morning, two phones on the go while manning the PC getting wound up by the minute & hammering the redial button, dreams were made & lost in side the first fifteen minutes of the tickets going on line.

The sheer joy of those who so luckily got through on the phone or PC for the chance to spend about £220  on four tickets could be seen on Facebook with posts like..."got mine!" which would of obviously pissed off the many while staring at their monitor screens with the phone welded to their ear only to hear that dreaded Ticket-Line recorded message everyone probably knows off by heart now,..the voice of that monotone voiced woman who provides the very polite but annoying..."sorry, due to a high demand these lines are busy, please try again later" message that I'm sure many had ringing in their head for hours after.

To be honest Ticket Master & co should of knocked up another message that went  "you know its never going to happen you fool!......but please try again later"

Some great stories about like one lucky lad who got through twice on the phone & ended up with EIGHT tickets for the Friday night suddenly found his ex, who apparently swore she'd never look at him again & was now in another relationship, at his door three hours after he'd told his mates he'd got them with, or a lad I know who was trying to get tickets on the phone & on line listening to the radio that had some kid who'd just won four VIP tickets in a competition he entered by mistake saying he might go or give em away, because he "wasn't really into them" & would of preferred Take That tickets, this lad got so wound up hearing this ungrateful kid on the radio while getting nowhere trying to get his own tickets he stood up and kicked his living room door and put his foot straight through it!...Maybe the lad on the radio, with the VIP tickets that he's not bothered about, could take him?

And then there's the press conference itself, which was great for loads of reasons, listening to Mani's 'Bernard Manning' deliveries, Ian giving it to the guy from The Mail, Reni for saying more to the press than he did in all his years with the Roses & John for simply showing up.

But most of all it was the announcement of new material, well maybe, but by the sound of it there seems to be a good chance of it happening: a world tour, new tunes (and hopefully some Squire art work to accompany it all) amounts to a full on come-back - could this be the true second coming for the band? The one they went out to do sixteen long years ago.

They looked and sounded like they really want it and have that fire in their bellies still, despite Reni's claims of being 'rusty' and that 'drummers should quit in their late thirties.

I don't think he would be doing this if he thought he couldn't, in fact I'm really looking forward to hearing him do his thing again, remember the early 90's when bands on the scene unashamedly jumped his style, or tried to; like Blur's "There's No Other Way" & The Mock Turtles "Can You Dig it". As well as those magic backing vocals on tracks like " Going Down" its a very welcome return for this talented musician, Joe Strummer said "any band is only as good as it's drummer", in that case the signs are looking great because The Roses have probably the finest drummer of the past 25 years.

When the band were doing press around the late 80's early 90's They'd say "hopefully people who come to see us will get into it and'll go home and do something them selves" it could have been a sly dig at the bands of the time going through a Stone Roses make-over but I really believe the band believed that ethos themselves.......and probably still do.  

That spirit would be one of the biggest things that could come out of all this, inspiring 'The Kids' again - like Liam was inspired to go out and put Oasis together after watching The Roses fronted by Ian Brown at the International one night back in 88. He said it changed his life and if last Friday's ticket stampede is anything to go by......he wasn't alone.

Viva La Roses!

Carl Stanley  - October 2011

The B-Team - Reviewed by Carl Stanley

The B Team

Think Bash Street Kids planning a riot that includes a Laurel & Hardy combo and PC/Media savvy nutters who struggle to earn their football hooligan stripes, they are The B Team.
Put together by jonny Owen (Shameless,Svengali) and Pete Jones (Rob Brydon's brother) with Eddie Piller as "Old Vic", a fila wearing football yob mod, The B Team will have you creasing up as they desperately try to make the top 5 in the "Hoolie League" so they can join the elite and follow England, but at joint 12th with Barnet things arn't looking to good.
From getting their fixtures mixed up and accidently bumping into Millwall to losing their signals on their phones and not realising Cardiff City are right behind them.
Follow Jay, Dog, Big Les, Justin and Old Vic as they plot and scheme from their London pub...you've seen the teaser.... Episode 1 coming soon...narration by The IT Crowds Matt Berry..


Absolutely hilarious...as someone who could always find a mysterious pie stall, and lurk in it's queue whenever there was a big off in the air, I doff my dearstalker to the B-Team...' Irvine Welsh....

'Brilliant...Dads Army for Casuals'...James Brown Sabotage Times..

© Carl Stanley - April 2011

Just Say No by Carl Stanley

Drugs are for mugs. Or so they say. Usually those people who have never sampled them shout that the loudest and in all honesty they've probably got a point. 

Let's get it out in the open, i reckon there are far more of us who have sampled drugs on a recreational basis than we realise. Keeping it locked away as a dirty little secret. I know when i was younger i dabbled in coke, ecstasy, acid, speed, spliff, mushrooms and even ketamine a couple of times (makes me feel wobbly just thinking about it) but never became addicted and was always strong enough to know when to stop and get up for work the next morning and certainly always steered clear of a few old mates who were into smack. Some users aren't quite as lucky. 

Their drug dependency becomes all encompassing and a lifestyle of dark, piss stained bedsits, dodgy geezers and ducking and diving just to score a few quid for some gear starts to become the norm. As does watching friends keel over and overdose and even succumbing yourself.

Carl Stanley is one of those people. 99% clean now (come on, none of us are angels are we?) and prepared to share his story. Beware, it's not a Trainspotting style 'Hey Hey We're The Junkies!' type romp.....it's a work in progress that hopefully he'll keep people updated with that is dark, sad, sometimes funny and always gripping.........

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Its safe to say anyone who either likes a spliff now and again or has a nasty rock habit will have a catalog of drug taking, selling, and buying stories that went wrong, we don't go to Tesco's to buy a bag of weed, get a receipt from a nice smiling lady on the till and be safe in the knowledge that no one was used or abused in the making of our shopping, in the name of drug activity we jump through hoops some times in order to partake.

Anyone who visits their local run down council estate to score (unless your living in it) or makes a B-line for the pub toilet for a sniff will always be at risk of everything going tits-up, whether its getting ripped off, getting caught with them and even worse losing the plot or going over, sad to say I have had the experience of both.

So keeping this in mind I have recalled a few low drug moments of my own,

Taking

Whether its some one your with who is doing your head in with incessant talking about pointless crap because they are off their trolley to having a bad turn or reaction to some thing you or some one snorted, smoked or at worst injected to actually being caught in the act, being sprung while trying to sort your self out, taking drugs can be a mission in its self.

Being one of the many idiots to join the idiot club (Heroin addiction) I have my own experiences of drug taking going very wrong.

Going over, overdosing or what ever you call it are literally heart stopping moments, I have overdosed my self and have also had people overdose in my home.

Regarding my self and going over, I came back to my home town after spending 4 months in Borrow in Furness working on the building of a Battle Ship the HMS Bulwark, working for the Ministry of Defence and having to sign the official secrets act as part of your contract making sure no one talks about what they do at work down the pub, I was either withdrawing or high running around this Battle ship getting lost on the different levels on a daily basis.

But I was mostly withdrawing as it was a town I struggled to score in on a daily basis in but I needed the money so toughed it out for 4 months.

Coming back home my tolerance to the Heroin was down, meaning because my habit had decreased I would really feel the effects of a normal hit of gear, and thats exactly what happened.

Basically I met up with a couple of other user mates and scored like normal, but even my mate said       "you alright with this, the gear is good and you haven't been using much" but being greedy and a typical junkie wanting to nod out I said its fine and lets get it on.

I hadn't been using needles long so my mate sorted that out and with in seconds I was back on the sofa watching the TV, apparently one of the lads said to my mate "your mate alright" and with that my mate shoved me, I just slumped to one side.

I was dragged to the floor and slapped about ,water thrown on me and stood up and walked, or dragged about the room, my mate sent a lad for an ambulance as we didn't have any credit between us but this lad was called back about 4 times as I would come around with my mate shouting " its alright Steve, Ive got him back" to me going blue again, stopping breathing and nodding out.

Obviously I was out for the count so I have to take my mates account for what happened next, there was a girl at the flat and she started putting her hands down my boxer shorts with my mate totally gone out at what was going on, he said he thought she was kinky like that, she was actually a prostitute and the reason she was trying to pull me off was to try and get blood flowing,..now I still don't know whether it made any fkn difference to my recoverery but I woke up to me lying in my mates arms while this scruffy bird is gripping my nob and wanking me off like my life depended on it, in fact thats why she did it, I was that fkd that I really didn't realize what she was doing but when I saw her hands down there and me in my mates arms I thought I was being taken advantage of,.. to this day when I see my mate (who is still on the gear) he gives me the wanker sign but I found out yrs later reading a magazine article that Janis Joplin, or a friend of hers started blowing this guy off back stage one night because he went over and it was claimed it revived him, who knows, Who cares.

I've also had to deal with some one going over in my flat a few years after this, I was in the same position, still a junkie and still in the same neighborhood .

One day I was just popping out my grubby little flat leaving a couple at my flat while I nipped out to see a man about a dog when this lad I know turns up asking me to score some crack for him, this lad wasn't a junkie but a drinker and enjoyed a rock now and again so would come to mine for me to sort it for him,  I told my mate who was flat sitting to look after this lad while I was out and when I get back I would get this guy, called Dave, some crack.

Well getting back to my flat coming through the door I was just in time to see this typically selfish junkie bastard cooking up some gear and telling Dave to get his sleeve rolled up. He had talked Dave into spending his money on Heroin because he wanted a taste him self,..."What the fk do you think your doing, he don't use pins dick head, He'll go over"

This fell on deaf ears as this guy who I left to look after Dave slapped his arm scouting for a vein to use, I walked in the kitchen, where shooting and smoking took place and saw the needle in his arm with, lets call him Mr Selfish, pushing the crap we call Heroin into his thick and healthy arms, with no track marks and a healthy glow to Dave's skin it instantly indicated he was not even a recreational user and his arm was virgin territory to dirty junkies injecting his veins with shit, the signs did not look good.

Dave feels the hit, moves to the living room and I tell Mr Selfish to watch him, so I'm having a piss and trying to get my head together after watching some thing very wrong when I hear the shriek of the girl who was with MR selfish so I run to my living room to see Dave flat out on the floor with Mr Selfish stood over him like the useless twat that he was, I go into "Oh Shit mode" and put Dave into the recovery position which is on his side and making his breathing easy, while slapping and again throwing water over him with mad dashes to the kitchen to fill the cups with water.

I shout at Mr Selfish to go and ring a ambulance and he duely excepts and flys out my front door, so I'm thinking "the medics on the way, keep him breathing" but about 30 seconds later the girl who was still there said " he will do what he did last time when this happened" ...what the fk are you talking about , I ask her..." last time we were some where and some one went over he did a runner, he hasn't gone to ring anyone, hes fkd off".

This is getting better...., I'm shouting and slapping Dave while telling her to "go to the phone, you ring em" so like Mr Selfish she is out the door, but this time I know I'm going have to do this so I shout for my up stairs neighborer and he is down stairs real quick with a phone, he told me later he was listening to it all and was to scared to come down, poor bastard.

Pleased to say I saw Dave months later and he told me the medics said  he owed me one, though it could of been all so different.

Buying

Touch wood I have never been caught with drugs by the Police, and these days I'm not likely to but I have ridden my luck in the past.

I have been bumped off with the odd bag of shit gear, bash...but it was the purchase of a nine bar of fine Moroccan solid that got me and some of my mates right in the shit, though again it could of been worse.

I went to Magaluf at 17 on the promise of a job painting villas and some where cheap to stay, I was on the dole and scrounged the air fare from my Dad (he bought me a 1 way ticket) but with 5 of us altogether out there, and 1 of the lads more or less a local due to growing up there for a bit and having family there I assumed it would be easy street.

After 2 weeks painting villas hung-over the novelty wore off, this led to the suggestion from my mate who knew the island and some of the people to buy a "nine-bar of Moroccan" make loads of deals out of it and punt it to the holiday makers busting for a smoke, we really should of kept painting them villas while throwing up hung over because it was still a better option compared to the mess we made.

on the 5th night of going out, splitting up and getting rid of our really small, piss take £10 deals of resin we got collared by two plain clothes police, they made it quite clear they were happy with them selves gripping us, we were took behind the night club where we were hanging out side of and in that 10 meter walk God knows how but I managed to get my hands in my pockets and discard the 5-6 deals in my pocket (Id sold the rest).

So I was alright but one of my mates copped it when one officer found a couple of deals in his pocket, straight away this lad tried to eat the evidence and got a slap and cuffed to a lamppost for his efforts, and while we were being turned over so was our apartment in which they pulled to bits and found another of the lads stash ( we did say "don't keep ya shit in the flat") it was a couple of ounce and they found more deals cut up, but he payed the price along with the other lad who tried eating his draw.

They were summand to the local bobby station to find out what their fate would be,....when they got back they looked glum and said they tried to play it stupid when asked "where you score, who" they said  "some guy in a night club" in which they were told they would either go back to the night club with 2 undercover bobbies that night to point these men out, or they would take the charge and not see their passports again, what an option, well that night they went to the night club and pretended to spot the phantom dope dealer, obviously they wen'rt going to finger anyone but they needed to play for time.

After 2 nights of this ordeal they were getting visions of "Midnight Express", I was down the road drinking in a bar thinking what my options were when my 2 friends turned up and said "were off", so we fled to Palma City for two 1 day passports for these 2 newly formed on the run petty drug dealers from the British Consulate. With those two now sorted for departure it was the airport next, and I would like to finish on some thing like we got a flight and made an easy get away, but we actually got on a flight that late that we only found out which UK airport we were actually landing at while flying, while in the air we had a game of guess the airport with the lad who booked it while we sorted out the luggage, he couldn't quite remember which airport it was we were landing so I went through all these airports with my mate saying "nope, not that one" to every airport I suggested until he said "I think it starts with an E", basically he didn't give a shit because he had just dashed a Spanish drug charge and would of taken a flight to Guantanamo Bay just to see the back of Magaluf.

The letter E has been quite influential in the past and the basis of many great nights but this time it represented the only airport I knew which started with an E, Exeter, considering we had about £1:50 between us and a few Spanish coins we were stranded in Exeter needing to be in Humberside, and to cap it off when we landed the customs chap pulled me and had me for a random drug search, by the way I was looking I don't think it was that random, they rubbed a tissue in my pockets to see if I had carried anything, the tissue would turn blue if I had been carrying anything with the chemical they use on the tissue reacting to the smallest of traces, I was very nicely told by one customs chap that "if it turns blue Mr Stanley it means you have been carrying drugs, there fore you will be arrested".

We all stood there watching this piece of tissue with baited breath, or rather mine was,.I was shitting my self while receiving evil looks from the German Alsatian sniffer dog, the color stayed white and I was waved on and as I walked off I had 1 thought only, I had made sure I placed enough smooth Spanish draw  in my mouth for a post flight spliff, which set me up for the 2 days travelling and thumbing it home as 1 by 1 people made there own way home.

Taking the piss

I have to include this, and I hope a Yorkshire bobby never reads this, in fact any bobby.

I was once in the back of a car in Sheffield taking night club supplements and all of a sudden the little metro I'm in is surrounded by police, we all panic and start putting stuff away, necking and crushing things. 

To my luck I was stuck in the back and in the middle, there were 5 in the car and all of em could be got at easy as they were next to windows but I had that little window of time to slip things into my mouth, a wrap of this and 2 of them wrapped up, so i was already feeling quite cocky before I even got out the car while the other lads were having things being found on them, I could hear shouts coming from the drug squad officer saying "watch him in the back, watch his arms" I was gripped, yet again by the plod.

But again the patron saint of lucky bastards was looking down on me and all my little treats were tucked away in places where they wouldn't go, if it came on top I would should swallow the shit down. So it was off to the police station and again theres a seating situation because there is not enough room for everyone to sit down in the police van for the trip to the plod-shop so I was given the floor and was tucked away in the corner, the only one who could see me was a mate who glanced at me like he was fkd, and he knew it, so you can imagine he was well pissed off with me when I thought I would have a little laugh by moving the little wrap of pills with my tongue to show my mate while he was hand cuffed to a bobby, if looks could kill and I was already thinking what I was doing as soon as I was out of the grip of the plod.

The one thing I did have and didn't want in my mouth was a lump of resin, it wasn't even that big but by now I was buzzing of all this shit melting in my mouth so I think fk it and as we are led into the station I drop the small piece of resin on the floor out side the doors, actually thinking " I'll be back for that", and back for it I did.

When I came out I was proper flying and really feeling like no one could fk with me, not even in a police station, I'm also very nice and polite when I'm off my head so the bobbies thought I was an alright lad who liked a chat, about anything.

I got outside the station and its dark, instead of walking on I start looking at the floor for this piece of dope, I know I shouldn't and didn't particularly want it but I knew it was on the floor and I knew I would like a spliff before bouncing into the club so I keep looking more intensively until two police officers walk past and inquire " you alright lad, you lost some thing", as I said, I was really pushing it so I say "yeah, I cant find my house key, I'm sure I dropped it here" one of the officers takes out his tourch and shines it about, next I have the other bobby looking as well, asking "are you sure it was here" when I glance and see this little piece of dope and realize I am taking the piss having Starskey and Hutch stake out the front doors to the station to find this 2 joint nugget, I swoop for the draw and in one full move pull a key out my pocket and say" what an idiot, it was here all the time, but thanks lads for your help, you've been great"

TO BE CONTINUED..........

© Carl Stanley - Feb 2011