There’s a new kid on the Victoria Street block. It’s called, prosaically, 62 Buckingham Gate – that’s the street which connects Victoria Street to Buckingham Palace. It has been built on the site of the old Selborne House, where I used to work for many years, when it housed the Lord Chancellor’s Department and the Department for Constitutional Affairs, when we morphed into that institution. Selborne House was a drab sixties tower block which no-one liked. 62 Buckingham Gate, in contrast, looks amazing. I love the way they’ve built all sorts of angles into the face of the building, so that, with the mirrored front, it reflects myriad images, depending on your vantage point. It’s a classic bit of Victoria Street architecture, bearing no relation to anything else that has gone before. Maybe that’s the theme for Victoria Street: anything goes.
So I took a few shots with the iPhone today, with a view to sticking one of them on this blog. But honestly, I love the way so many images come into play, so I’ve decided to post a few today. I hope you like them as much as I do.
This last shot, taken randomly at the crossroads nearby, with a bit of that fuzzy iPhone zoom, shows the angles in full effect. There are two images of Westminster Cathedral, which is not that near at all – at least a hundred yards down the road and tucked behind lots of other blocks. But it has sneaked into view – twice!
This summer just past, inspired by reading Clare Tomalins’s biography of Charles Dickens, “A Life”, I’ve read two of his magnum opuses, both around a thousand pages long. “Bleak House” and “David Copperfield”.
Both were truly magnificent. The kind of of novels you live with. They aren’t perfect, but each day, as I read another 30-40 pages, on the tube, I grew closer to the characters, the plot and the author. Dickens lives and breathes these pages, and getting on for 150 years later, his character still shines through.
I started with “Bleak House”. It’s a sprawling story with a dark heart. There are many comic characters, who endlessly amuse as they repeat their characteristics each time they appear. But deep down it’s a tale of class divides, dark secrets and the deleterious effect of the legal system on everyone who has the misfortune to become involved with it. The symbol of all of this is the lawyer, Tulkinghorn. A man with his finger in every pie, and really, no redeeming features. The squalor of London is vividly portrayed, along with the suffering of so many people living in the city. There is goodness, principally in the central characters of Esther Summerson, the young woman at the centre of so much in the story, who also narrates parts of the tale, and her benefactor, John Jarndyce. Jarndyce is also part of the mysterious legal battle that suffuses the whole story, and brings it to an end, when the legal costs outweigh the money at stake in the dispute. Dickens has a vehement dislike of the legal system, caused by his own experiences when disputing copyright, and it doesn’t half show.
“Bleak House” is a pessimistic tale, which takes apart the class obsession of Victorian life and the cruelty of a society which leaves so many people at the bottom of the pile. It has a real coherence, despite the myriad sub plots, and conveys a picture of nineteenth century London which is unsurpassed. There is laughter as Dickens teases the minor characters: the mother who obsesses over African affairs rather than her children, Guppy, the junior lawyer who can never quite say what he means, the pompous preacher uttering meaningless phrases, Snagsby, the stationer who gets caught up in all sorts of affairs which he’d rather avoid. But in the end the darkness prevails, alleviated only by Esther’s virtue.
Where “Bleak House” is a grand canvass of despair, “David Copperfield” is a more straightforward tale of a young man’s passage through life. The backdrop, especially in its London scenes, is little different to “Bleak House”, but the story is essentially optimistic, and there is a happy ending. A really happy ending, which moved me to almost-tears as I stood, crammed into a Piccadilly Line tube train, absorbing those lovely last moments. David goes through a whole range of suffering, especially in his early life. The cruelty of Victorian life is vividly portrayed, but throughout the story there are good people – (Miss) Peggotty, Mr Peggotty, Traddles, Aunt Trotwood after her initial outburst, Mr Dick, and above all, the lovely, perfect, Agnes (too perfect really) – who elevate the story and give you hope. There is tragedy, deception and evil, but good wins in the end. It’s not always convincing, but despite the thinness of some of the characters (especially David’s wife Dora, who is hardly raised above the one-dimensional “child-wife”, and Uriah Heep, whose main defect early on is being sweaty, ugly and ginger ) the sheer scale of the story wins you over. You really do care about the fate of all the characters.
I think I’ll take a little bit of time off from Dickens now, but I do plan to work my way through the novels. They are an extraordinary chronicle of the 19th century. He is the English Tolstoy – or should I say Tolstoy is the Russian Dickens?
If you haven’t ever read Dickens, do give him a go. And maybe “David Copperfield” is a good place to start, not least because there is a strong autobiographical element in the story. Follow it up with Clare Tomalin’s book, and you’ll know all you need to know about one of our country’s greatest writers.
This is a building at the junction of Grosvenor Gardens and Buckingham Palace Road in Victoria. I walk past it every day and think, this could be in Paris. 7th arrondissement? I checked on the web, and found that it’s just on the edge of a Westminster conservation area and the architecture being preserved is described as “French Renaissance”. The area was constructed by Thomas Cundy III in the 1860s.
Balls Brothers is a decent wine bar, so it fits the Parisian bill!
Haven’t done a top ten for a while. Apologies dear reader, but they take quite a lot of effort, uploading tracks, photos ‘n’all. But here’s a good one to get things going again.
The Manic Street Preachers aren’t a band that I always regarded as great favourites, but there are a few songs that I’ve always had great affection for. Recently I was writing about them for my book on music. I had them in my chapter on Britpop, while recognising that they weren’t really Britpop. They started earlier, lasted longer – they are still going – and their roots are different. Less sixties nostalgia, more connections with punk (especially The Clash). But they peaked in 1995 with their album “Everything Must Go” and shared the stage at Knebworth with the ultimate Britpop band, Oasis, in 1996.
As I wrote about the Manics, all the memories came back, including the tragedy of their guitarist Richey Edwards, who disappeared in 1995, never to be seen again. Suicide by the Severn Bridge was suspected, but never proven. But I also listened more closely to a couple of the albums that I’d bought but never really given much time to. Especially “Know Your Enemy” from 2001, which was associated with a trip to Cuba where the Manics were the first Western band to play there for twenty-odd years. Fidel Castro was in attendance! As a result there are a couple of tracks in this ten that might not have made it before. I’m glad they have. Because they are so good.
The band, minus Richey, are James Dean Bradfield on vocals and guitar, Nicky Wire on bass (and chief lyricist) and Sean Moore on drums. They have just released their 11th studio album, “Rewind The Film”. This is them in 2013. Moore-Wire-Bradfield.
So let’s go, ten down to one, as usual.
10. You Love Us, from Generation Terrorists
1991 single, precursor to the first album. An audacious early rocker, with some of that punk spirit. This single version even has a bit of Iggy Pop at the end. I always think of it as a flip side to the Rolling Stones “We Love You” too.
9. Australia, from Everything Must Go
I just like this as a dynamic, catchy rocker. It’s not about Australians, just the Manics’usual pessimism and anger. Australia synonymous with escape here.
8. Motorcycle Emptiness, from Generation Terrorists
Another early Manics tune, and for the true fans, one of the keynote songs. Who knows what motorcycle emptiness is, but it sounds like an epic kind of emptiness. And the song has that epic, panoramic sense too. You understand.
7. If You Tolerate This (Your Children Will Be Next), from This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours
It’s a Spanish Civil War thing, you know? The most Manics of Manics song titles. With a lovely melody, punched along by an electronic drum beat. The follow up to “Everything Must Go”. It did the business – this was a No1 hit single. Can you imagine that now?
6. La Tristess Durera (Scream to a Sigh), from Gold Against The Soul
The last words of Vincent van Gogh apparently: “the sadness persists”. It’s a punchy, hard hitting song, which I always thought was another Spansh civil war type thing. In fact, it’s about the travails of a British war veteran, who feels utterly forgotten. All together now, I see liberals…
5. So Why So Sad, from Know Your Enemy
This is one of the songs I’ve got to know and love recently. Even though the album title sounds like a classic Manics political statement, the album is their first true foray into more personal lyrics. Their songs have always had a tinge of melancholy. This one is right in that camp, but in a wonderfully upbeat way. Happy/sad pop. The minor keys lifting you up rather than down. And even with a bit of doo-wop.
4. A Design For Life, from Everything Must Go.
I guess a lot of people would have this as their No1. Probably their most perfect pop song. The symbolic song from their finest album. Rock, pop, sixties strings. Sweeps you along. So why haven’t I got it as No1? Well, there are three more which just have a special, personal, appeal…
3. Ocean Spray, from Know Your Enemy
Another of my new favourites. Everything I said about So Why So Why Sad (apart from the doo-wop) applies here. Feels sad and yet so uplifting. It’s a song about fighting for a better place, I think.
It’s easy to see, it’s easy to see, to see only white where colour should be…
2. Elvis Impersonator: Blackpool Pier, from Everything Must Go
What an evocative title. That sense of the dead end, and yet the dream…
It’s the start that grabs me.
20 ft high on Blackpool promenade – Fake royalty second hand sequin facade – Limited face paint and dyed black quiff – Overweight and out of date…
That last line stings!
I’ll tell you what though. I respect those Elvis impersonators. We used to have one at the school summer fair at my children’s primary school. Invariably it rained. But Elvis never gave up. In his late Elvis Las Vegas style garb, he crooned the songs that made the grannies – and plenty of others – relive their youth. A real trouper. A man in love with rock’n’roll. Any man in love with rock’n’roll is in love with life.
1. Your Love Alone Is Not Enough, from Send Away The Tigers
When I first heard this tune, on the radio, in 2007, I instantly fell in love with it. I hadn’t listened much to the Manics in recent years, but that didn’t matter. There was just something about it that hit all my buttons. I had it on repeat on my iPod as I walked into work; it was all I wanted to listen to. That doesn’t happen very often. It’s a magnificent, soaring pop song, again with those minor chords lifting it higher and higher. It’s simple, a boy-girl thing, with a bridge, sung by Nina Persson of the Cardigans that takes you to a special place. And then at the end a guitar solo of utter splendour. You might listen to this and say, what’s the fuss, heard it all before. You might. It’s nothing new, I admit. But I do think it is one of the greatest pop songs ever written. I really do!
Thought I’d start a new series of photos snapped on my iPhone – still languishing on a version 3 at the moment. Daily scenes – never mind the quality, feel the place. With apologies in advance for likely bias towards West and central London, but I’ll try to branch out from time to time.
Normally I’ll just post one photo, but today, for starters, I thought I’d have two. Contrasting sporting scenes.
This is the Ealing Half Marathon, which finished in our local park, Lammas Park. I caught it after the elite had finished, but credit to everyone who took part.
And then, a scene from my favourite bike ride: from Kew Bridge down to Putney Bridge along the Thames towpath – and then back home via Fulham, Hammersmith and Chiswick. At Putney there are loads of boathouses. In the background here you can see Fulham’s football ground, Craven Cottage, and in the distance, Wembley stadium, which is miles away. A bend in the river and no tall buildings allow a glimpse of the national stadium.
Shan’t commit to every day, but will try for as many days as possible.
I was reminded today how much I loved this when I first saw it on Jules Holland’s Yew Year’s Eve Show a couple of years ago. Dizzee’s own rap, “Stand Up Tall”, combined with Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit”
An ambient-techno-rave classic from 1991. One of my favourites from the era.
I’ve been listening to FSOL as I write about all the brilliant electro-dance music in the early 1990s. “Papua New Guinea” is just about the best. This is what I wrote about it for my book:
“1991 was a good year for electro-dance. One of the best was “Papua New Guinea” by The Future Sound Of London. It was at the ambient end of the rave sound, with a hymn-like chant, which sounded at first like la-di-da-di-da. And maybe it was – I never bothered to find out. It was spacey and somehow eastern – it was called “Papua New Guinea” after all. It was music to watch waterfalls by. The torrent pounding, fragmenting, refracting the light. The vocals looped over an alternatively shimmering and pulsating beat, which would have been highly danceable in the right place, the right frame of mind. I simply found it an entrancing piece of music, and timeless. It’s as magical today as the first time I heard it.”
I bought “Papua New Guinea” first as a twelve inch single – ah the days of vinyl! – but then got it again on the band’s CD “Accelerator”. The track here is off the album. It’s worth a listen. Nothing else quite matches “Papua New Guinea”, but there are some great beats and loops and blurps to keep your electro-buds stimulated. Give it a go, if you like this sort of thing.
