The Greatest?

Last night I sat down with my good lady to watch the Senna documentary film. I was already aware of what he achieved and thought this would be a good way to get a fix of Formula 1 and see something behind the man.

I wasn't prepared for such a ride!

The man was driven (excuse the pun) from such a young age. He decided that he had the skills and capability to achieve 3 World titles and didn't settle until he had done it. The behind the scenes footage from driver briefings and meetings was insightful to say the least. When we got to the Senna-Prost battle of '89 and '90, I was gobsmacked but only for a while when the story of how Prost went crying to his fellow Frenchman at the head of the FIA when Senna dared to challenge him. Then, the incident in Japan caused by Prost that took both drivers off the track. As Senna weaved through the tyres to rejoin the race, hook-nosed crybaby Prost went off to complain. Result: Senna disqualified and Prost crowned champion.

Fast forward to the next year. Same race, same situation but in reverse: Prost had to beat Senna to win the title. Cue case of de-ja-vu as Prost and Senna collide. This time both cars are definitely out and Senna wins the title.

I can accept that this film is bound to show Ayrton Senna in the best possible light and brush over any controversies, but nevertheless, having been truly shafted by the authorities over the Pole Position issue, he would have been forgiven for feeling satisfied with his revenge, but still he felt uneasy about having to do it that way - he would always prefer to outrace his rivals. Indeed, during his battle with Prost at McLaren, Senna's intention was not just to beat his team-mate, but humiliate him. And he had the skills to do it.

It says enough that Alain Prost was driven into retirement twice by Senna's ability, the second time just to avoid being teamed up with him at Williams!

But then the film comes to it's conclusion at the 1994 San Marino Grand Prix. No matter how much time has passed since, and no matter how many times the footage is shown, I was still choked up inside as the film showed what happened to first Barrichello, then Ratzenberger, and finally the great man himself.

When all is said and done, Ayrton Senna pushed the limits of what both the driver and the car could achieve, whilst being at the forefront of trying to make the sport safer for those involved. The greatest, yet most tragic legacy is that nobody has died in a Formula 1 car since that day on 1st May 1994.

For any sporting fan, this film is interesting. Hell, even my girlfriend was enthralled by it.

If I could get my name on the cover along with an endorsement, I would call it "inspiring and essential viewing" whilst giving it about 10 out of 5.

So, please, everyone, watch 'Senna'.

A Special Christmas Treat...

Once in a while, it seems I have the ability to surprise people. As a modest, simple soul (not simple as in, you know, dumb, but simple as in "not complicated or difficult to fathom"). So it came to pass that I surprised some people recently. And, as a special Christmas treat for those, here, once again in all it's full technicolour (well, I suppose it's just black and white) glory, is how 'Dave' was introduced to the world. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!!!!

Dave’s Misfortune And Other Adventures

This is the story of a misfortunate chap called Dave. Now, Dave could be anyone really. You, me, or just someone you might know. Apparently it’s virtually impossible to go through life without coming into contact with a man named Dave.

But this particular Dave just seemed to have trouble with things. Love, work, family, even pets. In fact he had trouble with all these in the space of one unfortunate weekend. 

So, it all started on a Friday. Our Dave was looking forward to his weekend. He had plans to go to the cinema with his girlfriend, then a barbeque at his parents house on Saturday. 

He went to work on the Friday morning as usual. Things immediately struck him as odd – most of the managers were already closeted away in the office downstairs. This was not lost on his colleagues either. A few of them, Bill and Nicky, who were his immediate co-workers, sitting as they did opposite him, speculated on the possibilities. They ranged from murder to more mundane suggestions.

When the meeting broke up, and everyone began work, fears appeared to subside. Dave and Bill made plans to go for lunch at the pub, being as it was, Bill’s last day.

Before long, though, they were all called into a huge meeting. The big boss man dropped a bombshell on everyone – the company was struggling, and in order to carry on, changes would have to be made. To cut a long story sideways, Dave was going to be out of a job soon! Now this didn’t quite sink in with Dave. Not properly. The affected staff were allowed to leave early and come back on Monday morning for further discussions.

Dave and Bill eventually de-camped to the pub for lunch, Dave fully intending to make an afternoon of it! Many of the staff also headed to the pub, out of habit more than anything (although there was by no means a drinking culture).

After a good six pints, Dave was feeling suitably wobbly in the legs department. He wisely put in a call to his lovely lady, Kelly, to see if there was any chance of a lift home. Never mind that Kelly was at work and at a crucial stage in her staff appraisal. Her boss was really putting her to the test! (wink wink, nudge nudge, know what I mean?!)

So, anyway, having not spoken to Kelly, he decided to try his old man. Having attempted to explain his current predicament, through a haze of beer, he finally managed to convey his need for getting home in his current state. Reluctantly, for he was also working, Dave’s dad agreed to come and get him and drop him off at home.

Three pints later, his dad arrived and, true to his word, took Dave back home to the place he shared with Kelly. Dave that is, not his dad. His dad was married to Dave’s mum, and had been for nearly forty years.

Anyway, Dave got into his home and sat on the sofa. He tried once more to let Kelly know what the problem was, but again no answer. Not knowing what to do for the best, he sat and watched the television for a while. Not realising, he managed to fall asleep, and was only stirred when Kelly arrived home in a state of undress. It could have been distress, but Dave had just woken up, and unbeknownst to Dave, Kelly was carrying her pants in her handbag.

Not impressed with Dave, and the prospect of having to be a breadwinner, and being on the bread-line, Kelly told him to bugger off as she preferred her boss. When Dave asked why, she only replied in the monetary sense. Dave was confused, but decided to ask for an explanation nonetheless. It turned out that Kelly had been doing more than checking the stationary cupboard with her boss. Also, today’s appraisal had included a rather extensive examination, which Kelly was proud to have passed. Her boss was pretty pleased with her oral skills too, by the way.

Well, to sum up, Dave was now out of work and out of a relationship. Still being in a beer haze, he proceeded to rearrange the furniture in a reckless way. He then left Kelly in a state of shock, stood in the middle of the living room, surveying the carnage. 

He finally turned up at his parents house, worse for wear, and tired after a long walk. He confided his misfortune to his parents who commiserated with him over a cup of coffee and a cream cake. He went to bed, tired, emotional and with a huge headache from all the beer.

He woke up next morning feeling like someone was trying to drill through his skull and swish his brain around! An almighty hangover it was. With that night being his parents barbeque, Dave pledged to leave off the beer for the day.

However, as guests arrived, including his brother and wife, drinks flowed and Dave joined in, figuring it was rude not to. One thing led to another, and before long Dave was taking control of the barbequing. Burgers, sausages, all sorts. When they ran out of fish, Dave happily dived into his dad’s pond and netted some fish to cook. If his dad had seen this, Dave would have been stopped well before he got to the edge of the pond. It turns out koi carp are particularly expensive to replace and not all nice to eat.

Now, Kelly took this opportunity to pile more misery on Dave. She showed up, unabashed, and proceeded to dump his belongings on the driveway. The bare-faced cheek shouted Dave, and being drunk, displayed his bare faced cheeks to Kelly. Not a pretty sight, as you can imagine!

Kelly drove off with her new man in the car. Dave couldn’t help feeling put out. He was older, uglier, shorter and fatter than Dave, which made him feel marginally better.

Saturday night turned into Sunday morning. Dave’s dad was fuming about the fish, Dave’s mum was apoplectic about the embarrassment she’d felt, Dave’s brother was upset he hadn’t been allowed to get his air rifle and shoot at Kelly. Dave felt responsible for all of this. He made his mind up to take the chance and go away for a while. Somewhere quiet, where he could be with his thoughts, such as they were! Maybe experience life a bit, coming as he did, from a sheltered background.

He told his parents who were not best pleased with his care-free lassez-faire attitude to seeking employment, but his mind was set, and he explained that now was the time to follow a dream, take life by the balls and make things happen, in places he wanted them to happen. It was an amazing speech and the only thing preventing it from going down as the greatest speech of all time, was the fact that only his parents heard it. Or that it didn’t include the phrase “I have a dream…”. Oh well.

When challenged to elaborate on his dream, he started to regale his parents with a tale of unrivalled sexual exploits with rich, beautiful women in every major city in the world. Eventually, after recovering from their initial shock at hearing Dave telling them about a reverse cowgirl with Cameron Diaz, his parents guided him in the direction of telling them what he intended to do in the real world. Without pausing, Dave said he wanted to get away and see the world for a bit. Dave’s dad wasn’t impressed. He hadn’t had the chance to do any of that when he was Dave’s age. 

Dave waved away the protests and said his mind was made up.  And so began his adventures…

What John Lennon Means To Me

It's that time of year again.

Christmas? No, well, almost. But not Christmas.

31 years ago today, the light that is John Winston Ono Lennon was extinguished by a nutter with a gun. But the afterglow is still as bright as ever. That sentence came to me this morning and subsequently became both my Facebook status and a tweet on Twitter. It may be crazy, but it is so true.

I can think of no other anniversary that marks an individual's death that resonates still with so many people as the anniversary of John Lennon's death every 8th December. Over the course of the day, at the various memorial sites across the word (Strawberry Fields in New York's Central Park, and the one in Liverpool to name but two) people will go and pay their respects to a man, his music, and his legacy. Lennon tunes will be played, some people still get weepy.

The fact is that John is mourned by family, friends, people who grew up in his lifetime, and those who have grown up knowing only his legend and creative output. There aren't many people who can say that.

In life he was a man for our times, in death he became almost a deity. Which is terribly sad. In life he had both devoted fans and harsh critics, in death it seems that all the bad stuff has been washed away.

I would say his fans can be categorised as the Beatles fans who didn't like his overtly political, outspoken solo career, the Lennon fans that liked the honesty and harshness of his early solo career and baulked when he softened upon his return to recording before his death, and those who loved it all. There is also a special category for those fans who loved the Beatles, and loved his solo career, but thought that 'Some Time In New York City' wasn't really a great album.

I fall into the latter category. I can't remember now how John first came to my attention. It may have been through my parents listening to the odd Beatles track, or my brother. Either way, as I grew up I began to devour pretty much everything that came from the Beatles and John's solo career. I was amazed at how he was able to write from his heart yet connect with the man in the street. The Beatles as a group have a back catalogue with a song for every possible mood. As John matured, so did his music and his outlook. He started writing about what was going on around him and in the world, bringing us 'Revolution', 'Cold Turkey' and 'Instant Karma' to name just a few.

John's greatest achievement for me, are the two albums that signalled his solo career - The Plastic Ono Band and the behemoth that is Imagine. On one hand you get the harsh reality and raw emotion, on the other there is a melodic genius that anyone would struggle to match.

His music became a little overly political upon his move to the US, he was immersed in borderline extreme political movements, and this alerted the Nixon government, beginning a 4 year fight for John to remain in the country. He won in the end.

The birth of his and Yoko's only child, Sean, signalled a period of self-imposed absence which was rare for someone of his stature and profile to do. Five years passed before he returned to the studio and gave us what would prove to be his swansong. He clearly saw this as a new start, a rebirth. Now comfortable in his own skin and looking forward to growing old, he gave us 'Woman', 'Beautiful Boy', and 'Watching The Wheels' where he tells us how he looks at those rushing by and explains how he's happy to sit back and smell the roses, take it easy - a reversal from how he used to be.

And then in a couple of shots, he was gone. And I was only a few months old. Yet I get quite emotional on this day, listening to Imagine, All You Need Is Love, Grow Old With Me.

We All Shine On. Like the moon, the stars and the sun. God rest your soul John, we all miss you on Planet Earth.

Musical Influences

It can be said that most people's musical taste is formed in their childhood. And parents take a large part of the blame or praise for that. Then, as you grow, you become exposed to more and begin to develop your own direction. Unfortunately, this is where people go wrong and get mixed up in RnB nonsense, but they can be rescued.



My dad in his Freddie Mercury phase!



But this isn't about them, this is about me and my influences. I can put my musical education down to five people and here they are:

1) My dad! As a youngster, all those car journeys that were accompanied by the likes of Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly and the like have instilled a liking of the 50's era. Add to that the occasional flicks through his record collection revealing delights as The Rolling Stones, The Hollies, Elvis Presley and of course Monty Python's Life of Brian!

2) My mum. Along with my dad, my mum has her own influence. Not her current music tastes, granted, but the likes of Marvin Gaye and the first two Beatles albums (although my dad lays claim to one of them). To be fair, even Tina Turner and Cliff Richard have left their mark on my steamy windows!!

3) My mate Doug (and probably his parents too!). Growing up together at the time of the British music boom in the early to mid-nineties, he was probably one step ahead of the game thanks to avid readership of NME. From there he ensured I got to appreciate the likes of Oasis, Supergrass, Kula Shaker, Cast and many more. Thankfully we both managed to skip the drabness of Coldplay. And he also helped me make the first connection with Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin and probably most joyously of all Nick Harper.

4) My lovely lady Marisa. I was already pretty advanced by the time she came into my life, and had written off the majority of 'new' music. She still managed to get me hooked on the Fleet Foxes and Mando Diao, whilst embedding Led Zeppelin further into my consciousness.



James, possibly pointing the way to music nirvana



5) My brother James. Easily the greatest influence on my musical education. Whilst I was playing my Subbuteo and Game Gear in my room, he was next door with his 'music centre' (radio, twin cassette AND turntable) blasting out the likes of De La Soul, Beastie Boys, The Stone Roses and Happy Mondays. He also did his Ibiza phase which I just don't get. It didn't stop there, he embedded the Beatles in my head forever (although it took me a while to officially give in), The Beautiful South (and the Housemartins by association), and House of Pain.

So, those five people can stand up and take a bow and congratulate themselves on creating a musical connoisseur (or snob, take it as you will).

Anyway, I'm off to listen to a bit of Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band... (just kidding, it's The Sopranos soundtrack)

Albums You Should Own Part 7

Welcome back to another in my well-established series of suggestions for your record collection. When I say well-established, I mean I've actually put some thought into it and come up with more than a couple of posts in the same vein!!

I'm sure by now your bank balances have recovered from the serious outlay that was the entire Beatles studio back-catalogue, so we can move on to my next offering.

All Things Must Pass by George Harrison

Totally inspired by the showing of Martin Scorsese's documentary on the BBC over the weekend, my next offering is the debut solo album from the "under-rated Beatle". Fresh from the Beatle break-up and subsequent law-suits, George Harrison found an outlet for his ever growing stockpile of songs deemed 'not good enough' for Beatles albums Let It Be and Abbey Road. And, boy, what an album to produce.

Released at the end of 1970, in the vinyl format of the 'olden days', this was a triple album, but technological advancement meant that it fit on to two cds (even the 30th Anniversary edition produced in 2001 with bonus tracks).

It starts with "I'd Have You Anytime", a writing collaboration with Bob Dylan that gives a mellow opening before kicking up a few gears with the mammoth "My Sweet Lord", a song that both made George a fortune and also cost him a fair bit (a lawsuit centering on the similarity between this and "He's So Fine" by the Chiffons). Play this song and before the first chorus is over, you will be singing along. I guarantee it.

Following closely behind is "Wah Wah", written the day George walked out of the Let It Be sessions after a filmed heated discussion with Paul McCartney. The recording is distorted and noisy, thanks to Phil Spector (still basking in the perceived success of the Let It Be production), something George admitted his dislike of initially, but it grew on him.

Another gear change down brings us the first of two versions of the song "Isn't It A Pity?". This version is seven minutes long and beautiful. Enough said. Then George takes us back up a notch with a real gem, "What Is Life". I first heard this song on the Goodfellas film soundtrack, just a snippet during the film - the full version became one of my firm favourites. From here, we then have a rare cover version - George's rendition of Bob Dylan's "If Not For You". Equally as good as Bob's version, and possibly easier on the ear! This is followed by three good solid tracks (although many artists would kill to be able to have songs like them on an album) in "Behind That Locked Door", "Let It Down" and "Run Of The Mill".

After this, you'd be forgiven for wondering if the quality of songs might dip. Not just yet, for we are treated to another truly wonderful song, "Beware Of Darkness".

For me, the rest of the album does struggle to maintain the standards so far set, but one final mention should be given to the album's title track - "All Things Must Pass". First written and demoed during the Let It Be sessions (see the Beatles Anthology albums for the song's Beatle-days incarnation), George finally gets to air this masterpiece of musical philosophy and gives it the platform it deserves. It would have been a crime to have this playing second fiddle to "One After 909" or "Dig It".

And then the album finishes off with some good, solid if not unremarkable tracks including the second version of "Isn't It A Pity", "The Art of Dying" and the closing "Hear Me Lord". Then we get an extra treat in the form of recorded session jams, one for the purists only I think (a banner I happily fall under).

And there we have it, a real beauty of an album, often forgotten thanks to the extensive post-Beatles outputs from Lennon and McCartney. Hard to believe it's 10 years since George left us, but with albums like this, he'll always, always live on.

Ta'ra!!
And as George would say, "Hare Krishna"!